Different Sense

Different Sense: 31

“To answer your earlier question; no I do not have a distraction.” Lothiriel whispered while wriggling her hand from Thorin's grasp. Reaching forwards she slowly pried the branches of the bush apart to sneak a look at what was happening.

“I do.” Bombur said, Lothiriel turned to look at him, so did everyone else. Bombur pushed himself up onto his elbows, he was oddly laying on his back with his arms and legs stretched out. There was the hint of a grin playing on his face. “Someone's going to have to give me a lift,” he pointed a finger up. “So I can get to the top of the tree.” His eyes flitted to Bilbo, his own eyes widened and he slowly lowered his head.

The group watched in silence as Bilbo, with some much needed help, hoisted Bombur's form up into the tree. They didn't get him to far, just far enough for him to clasp onto the branch and pull himself up.

“That was a very unpleasant experience.” Bofur proclaimed quietly. “It this doesn't work, I’ll kill 'im.”

Lothiriel pulled a face and looked back up and then to the elven riders. They were chatting amongst themselves. All of a sudden there came a tremendous shout from above. Swords, bows and arrows and any other weapon was drawn and aimed to where the shout came from. The elves, for all their beautiful composer, looked rather fearful now.

“What's this?!” Lothiriel couldn't help but flinch. The sound of Bombur's voice echoed from above. It sounded huge, monstrous even. It certainly didn't sound like his voice. If she didn't know it was Bombur up there lurking in the shadows of the forest, then she too would surely be fearful like the elves.

“What brings you elves so far into my forest?” Bombur's voice sounded from everywhere. “Speak!” He shouted loudly.

Finally one of the elves found his voice and leant forward in his saddle. “Show yourself!”

“No!” Bombur's short reply came second later. “Why should I show myself? You are the ones in my forest! And you are so far from your dwellings, elves!”

“Are you the one they call Tom Bombadil?” The elf asked calmly, he looked rather calm too.

“And what business is it of yours?”

“We have heard of your presence being here in this forest. Though no one believed it. We are looking for our captives. They are a danger to this forest, King Thranduil-”

“King?” Bombur paused. “What King dares to dwell in this forest without my knowing? I did not dub him so. He is false!”

“So you are Tom Bombadil!” The elf who was brave enough to whip courage up to talk and reply to Bombur's exclaiming voice, now shifted frightfully in his saddle. “The creator of Middle-Earth...” his voice quaked.

“The very same! Now do as I say; go back, leave! The dwarves which you seek did not come this way. Or any other way for that matter. Return to your King and tell him; that if he dares to send more of you this way, I will do, very bad things to them.” Bombur said threateningly.

Lothiriel couldn't help it, she was close to laughing. Bombur was doing very well at this! Thorin's hand slowly went over her mouth so she didn't let out an unknowing giggle. She blinked and turned to see that Thorin too was trying not to let out a wayward laugh at his comrades acting.

The elves didn't move, which didn't bode well with Bombur who exclaimed loudly; “Go!” They were off then, as quick as they could, within seconds they had disappeared into the forest.

There was silence for a few minutes, just in case they were still hanging around. No one appeared, so Thorin stood up slowly. He glanced at Bofur, Bilbo, Oin and Gloin as they went to go help Bombur down.

Lothiriel quickly shot up by his side, she was still grinning. “Do you know of Tom Bombadil?” Thorin asked her as she looked a little confused for a moment.

“Sort of...my father spoke of him, vaguely.” Lothiriel looked at him. “He is supposed to be the creator who inhabits this forest.” She blinked and looked over her shoulder as Bombur appeared. She rushed over and quickly threw her arms around his neck. “Bombur, you were amazing!” She said while taking a jump back.

Bombur looked very pleased with his performance. His fellow dwarves gave him 'well dones' and pats on the back.

Everyone sat for a moment to gather themselves, and then they were off again. No one really knew the way, but they trudged on regardless. They hadn't been walking for long before some men from Lake Town had found them.

Bard was the name of their leader and he was a quick, smart man who equally complimented in an odd way, Thorin's blunt disposition and temper. Naturally though, he shot half a dozen questions at them.

Bilbo and Lothiriel didn't answer the questions, they stuck side by side looking on. Bard however, when he glanced over at them smiled. He ran a hand through his dark hair and nodded slowly. “Well, well.” His grin seemed to widen. Thorin didn't take to kindly to his glances and stepped between Lothiriel and Bard.

“Don't you worry yourself, Master Dwarf. I have no intentions whatsoever to have any ways with your lady.” He peered over Thorin's shoulder. “A nymph.” His eyes seemed to glow from excitement. It was one of those moments again when someone glanced on something which surely shouldn't exist.

“She has a name!” Oin snapped. “This is Lothiriel, Daughter of Durion and the Lady of Eryn Vorn! She certainly deserves more respect, as does our King, Thorin Oakenshield. Last King under the Mountain.” Oin said in that natural proud but stubborn dwarf tone. He gave a sure nod and narrowed his eyes up at Bard.

Thorin did the same, but most of his pride dwelt and stemmed from Lothiriel being addressed as 'his' lady than Oin's respectable defending. He never thought to call her that before, but then he never really knew what he should address her as.

Bard, who had listened intently to Oin, took a step back and bowed slowly. “Rumours. The rumours are true,” he looked up, Lothiriel smiled lightly more from embarrassment than anything else. “My Lady.” Her embarrassment grew. “As they are of you, King Oakenshield. Have you returned to reclaim your mountain?”

“I have. We will defeat the dragon Smaug, and we will reign as a proud race again.”

Bard nodded slowly. “I believe it. But, the road is long and dangerous. The Lonely Mountain is even more so. Come, let us return to Lake Town.” Bard turned with a smile. “We shall allow you to rest, recover, eat and change. I am sure you have all endured many hardships. The forest must have been an unpleasant experience too, I imagine.”

“It gave us some trouble.” Thorin commented, he had relaxed somewhat as Bard spoke about the inhabitants of Lake Town. He turned to look at Lothiriel, only she was no longer beside him, but walking beside Bilbo and Bifur.

She had developed a strong friendship with Bilbo. As clear as it was that their relationship was solely one of friendship, Thorin still felt a pang of jealousy. Turning back around he narrowed his eyes at the horizon.