So Far Away ✔

009

. . .

THORIN

. . .

Thorin knew he had spoken harsh words, but he didn't regret his decision. Still he knew Dís wouldn't leave his mind for a split second. She was his sister – his last living relative and he had abandoned her. She might be in good hands with the elves, but that didn't guarantee a positive mindset. Thorin however told himself he couldn't do anything for her as he was in Rivendell, not now she was keeping everyone at bay, and hopefully she wound finally realize to what result her constant rejections led.

He patted Uriah's neck; the pony Lord Elrond had given to him. A gift that Thorin had taken reluctantly, since he had questioned the goodness of the elf king more than once. It was still hard to imagine that someone could have such a pure heart. It contrasted so strongly with the only other elf king he had ever met that it messed with his head.

"Here we go." Elladan looked over his shoulder a last time, but his home town was already invisible.

Thorin was Elladan immensely grateful for his help, but he realized there was no plan. He just wanted to go to Moria to search the area, looking for a sign of his father, refusing to think about the hordes of orcs that might roam around the lands and the memories that being there might trigger.

"Is it long ago since you went out?" Thorin asked curiously.

From his maroon stallion, Elladan looked at him. "I've visited some cities now and then, but it's a long time ago I crossed half of Middle Earth."

"Have you been to every place?"

The elf shrugged his shoulders. "More or less."

Thorin wanted to ask further, but suddenly he caught a movement to his right. Snapping his head to the side, he perceived a young warg between the bushes. "Look at that," he grunted, quickly gearing up his bow and putting an arrow on the string. "I thought there were no wargs so close to Rivendell?"

"Some must have stayed behind after the Feast of the Summer Gates."

"As it seems they've found a new place to breed."

Thorin aimed the arrow, pulled the string and let go of it. It might be just a whelp, but in time it would undoubtedly become large and fearsome.

To his surprise, a second arrow split the air, hitting his. He missed the young warg and the creature disappeared between the bushes.

Alarmed Thorin looked around, afraid there were orcs lying in wait. It however was a small, slender figure that silently came to stood between him and the warg.

"You can't kill Morn."

Thorin almost fell off his pony as he recognized his nephew, who was looking at him with a stern glance. "Fíli?"

The boy barely reacted on his voice and worried, Thorin dismounted his horse. "It's me, your uncle."

"I know that."

"I – what are you doing here?" His appearance and distant behavior confused him.

"This is bad," Elladan whispered.

Thorin aimed his questioning glance to the side and his friend nodded to the white bow in Fili's hands. Behind him the small warg had appeared, who was just as pale as the bow the boy was carrying. "There is only one elf coddling wargs."

Scar, Thorin understood. He turned around, finding the elf behind him. She didn't move, nor did her shiny, black warg.

"Looks like you've met my apprentice."