On the footsteps of the Crows

The Silence of the First Day

The story could have ended and the paths of Ezyel and Thorin's Company could never have crossed again, but the human was never a fragile, fearful child who was afraid to disturb others, and as soon as they were a few meters outside of Brea's territory, heading towards the woods, the muffled trotting of a horse's hooves slowed the expedition to check who it was. With a proud and haughty demeanour, Ezyel approached the group on a tricoloured speckled steed that looked agile, falling in line at the back of the procession.

As the entire group turned towards the new arrival, a smile full of vain triumph for her childish revenge revealed that the canvas and soft leather backpack and comfortable patched clothes made from different materials than the original were not meant for strolling around in refined places. "I can't believe it," Thorin growled in a low tone, while a young beardless dwarf with a thick brown hairstyle smiled with amusement. "You're dead," he pointed out, while his red-faced travelling companion joined in the chorus of Ezyel's funeral with a mocking "But really dead." Ezyel looked at them for a moment, a little angry, while Balin tried to calm the King Under the Mountain by accompanying him with his pony. "Calm down, don't make rash moves," but Thorin's anger had already darkened his mood, and his adviser's words bounced off his ears.

Ezyel slowed her pace enough to stay behind the others and the fat dwarf with the dark red braided beard, perhaps because her pony was really weighed down by the rider's size, while Thorin spurred the small pony to head towards Ezyel as if he wanted to run her over along with his horse, which veered nervously. "I told you we didn't need your help," Thorin growled through gritted teeth, while the pony snorted irritated by the treatment, but Ezyel smiled with an angelically perplexed face. "So what?" she asked with a false sense of innocence as she moved her steed to ride alongside the King Under the Mountain, who was already starting to breathe so heavily that he seemed like an enraged bull, with his nostrils opening and closing and a look of annoyance on his face. "Then you shouldn't be here," he replied through clenched teeth in an almost indecipherable snarl of a cold anger, so much so that if he could vaporize Ezyel with the power of his thoughts alone, he would have done so.

Fortunately, it was not the unfortunate case that he had such powers, since Ezyel trotted a little ahead, feeling sorry she couldn't see the dwarf's face behind her, while she noticed out of the corner of her eye the hobbit reaching out a bag of coins to Gandalf as well as Kili and Bofur having to pay some bet. "The road is not just yours, sir," she rhetorically pointed out with an annoying tone of logic, using that respectful and formal form of address also because she didn't know the name of the expedition leader.

Thorin was gasping for something to say when suddenly he roared, "Trot! I want to reach the river by evening!" Of course, everyone realized that it was just a crude way to try to get the girl out of their road as they began to gallop with their little pony legs down the road, leaving her behind.

Ezyel watched the company pass her, and with a slight frown, she raised her eyebrows. "You're really childish," the wizard grumbled, being tossed back and forth in the gallop, holding onto his pointed hat. "That's how she'll understand," Thorin replied, careful not to bite his tongue as an annoying voice reached his ears. "Understand what?" Ezyel asked with a smirk while sitting up on her horse, even though there were no branches in sight for a long way.

Taken by surprise, Thorin almost stumbled, but as a good ruler, his anger quickly flooded the human as a minimal response. "You're already here!" he exclaimed, as the young woman opened just one free arm to indicate the situation. "You're on ponies, which have legs shorter than a horse. It's obvious that I could catch up to you!" Someone nodded, breaking a lance in her favour. Even Thorin had to say something, but not finding a clever response, he put on a constant grimace. "Don't think we'll help you in any way," he warned, raising his voice to let the entire company know what to do, while Gandalf rolled his eyes to the sky. "I won't disturb you, and..." the young human began to speak, but was silenced by a hand gesture from Thorin. "Not. One. Word," he instructed with a hard tone, silencing her with a grimace as they silently continued their journey.

Ignored by Thorin's company, someone occasionally turned with an embarrassed tone to alienate her from the conversation, but the loyalty to the King under the Mountain was stronger than an unknown human, even for Bilbo and Gandalf. Gandalf simply gave her a smile of encouragement, or perhaps mockery, as the first night of their journey descended.

Fortunately, it was a rather pleasant night, with a fresh spring breeze caressing the travellers until they decided to stop along the main road, disregarding the fact that Ezyel was not far from them, dismounting after hours of travel, sore on her backside, and making sure she didn't lose anything while the main group tried to light the fire and set up the tents.

It didn't take any words for her to understand that Thorin wouldn't even make sure a single spark reached Ezyel to keep her warm in the cool night. After staring at him for a long moment, the human simply turned away with a haughty expression for the King. She then briskly walked to quickly gather what she needed for the first small fire, while trying to light it with flint and steel obtained from her own home. Gandalf happened to pass by and threw a flame from his fingers onto the wood pile to help her, while peacefully smoking his pipe.

Ezyel stepped back in surprise like a frightened animal, then gratefully looked at the wizard but didn't speak to avoid causing him problems with Thorin, who was preparing the tents like the others. Even the little hobbit was in charge of watching the animals, while Ezyel, forcefully exempted from these duties, only prepared her sleeping bag and fed her horse, watering it from the pool where the other ponies and Gandalf's steed were also refreshing themselves.

She wouldn't eat for the night, as the journey was still long and supplies were practically limited, having almost cleaned out her own pantry. So she went to bed early, listening to the voices of the dwarves chatting and laughing to keep their spirits high from the refreshment they had at Bree.