In the Shadow of Mountain Kings

Oakenshield

It surprised Firiel that it had only taken a full day of riding to leave the definite land of the Shire and come upon the woods and valleys of the land beyond. She didn't know what this place was called, since geography had never really interested her, but she knew she had left home.

The trees were dark, and wet, with bark that was peeling, and not as much warm sunlight as she was used to. The hills and rocks were harsher, steeper, but altogether not unpleasant. The plants were now identifiable from her memories of sketches in books, not from the touches and smells her grandmother had taught her. This land was different, but she liked it too. They were clearly heading off towards some mountain ranges that she could always spy in the distance. The Misty Mountains, if she had heard the dwarves' song correctly.

They stopped for the night on a well-shielded cliff, with a small cave in the large rock wall against it where a fire could easily be hidden. There were still trees and greenery all around them, making it a rather strategic spot to rest. Dwalin told her whilst they had all been eating, that they would soon run out of shelters this opportune. There were many places to stop like this in the valleys, but, once they reached the Misty Mountains, there would only be caves with untold inhabitants.

Later into the evening, as most of the dwarves had gone off to sleep, Firiel found that she could not. It wasn't the fact that she had to sleep in the company of so many strangers (for, by this point, most of them were not very strange at all). It was the ground. It was hard and cold and the roots dug up into her back. The dwarves avoided it by all cuddling together, but that was something she hadn't been invited along for. Instead, she sat by the fire, between Kíli and Fíli in the small indentation in the rock, eating an apple that she had brought in her bag. Kíli whittled whilst Fíli smoked his pipe. These dwarves ate a greasy gruel for dinner that made her insides hurt and her body feel heavy, so she had to eat something good for her. The brothers had teased her briefly when she pulled it out, but she had scoffed at them. They could die young if they wanted to.

It soon seemed that Firiel was not the only one who couldn't sleep. From his place, Bilbo had been tossing and turning for a while, until he finally got up, moving around and shaking his legs. Gandalf, who had been leaning up against a far tree, smoking away, turned at the sudden shift in activity. Bilbo took one quick stretch, and then headed off towards his pony. Firiel grinned when she could just make out her uncle removing a little round fruit from his pocket, as he pet and cooed to the animal. That man was a never-ending pile of mush.

Suddenly, there was a violent screeching in the distance. Those among them who were awake stilled, listening to the horrendous sound. It was like the screams of the tortured and dying. The brothers looked up from their tasks and out towards the foggy lands below the cliffs. They had reached for their weapons, Fíli his swords and Kíli his bow. Firiel shuddered, cuddling closer towards the back of the rocks, and Fíli. He looked down at her, placing his hand on her shoulder. Firiel may have been intent on not needing a protector, but she knew that she could not fight. If danger came upon them, she had no weapons, and Fíli was responsible for her. She felt much safer in his company.

"What on Earth...?" she murmured, shivering at the sound as it ran through the air again.

"What was that?" Bilbo turned back from the ponies to ask, pointing out into the darkness.

Kíli seemed to be listening intently, though he paled as the identity of the noise came to him.

"Orcs," he said slowly.

Fíli looked up at his brother again quite suddenly, and the two shared a look. Firiel felt a small gasp go past her lips. Fili seemed to assess the howls for himself. Reassuringly rubbing her shoulder with his thumb, he leaned back and put his pipe back up to his mouth.