An Even Fifteen (Fili x reader)

(2) Barrel-Riders and Bad News

It took a bit of creative thinking, but you managed to worm your way past the guards' defenses and sat with them in the winery, a cup of purple liquid in your hands. The guards had been posted at the cellar doors and in the hall, but you convinced them to show you how wonderful their wine was by questioning its quality in comparison to the wine men made. Affronted by the offense to their egos, they escorted you to the cellar. You now sat at the table and watched them drink their precious beverage while you only pretended to sip at yours. It would not do for you to get drunk during a covert mission, and the stuff didn't taste all that great anyway.

When the guards' heads began nodding drowsily over their cups, the cellar door creaked open and Bilbo poked his head in. You nodded subtly to him and refocused your attention on the two guards that were still conscious. Their eyes glazed with alcohol, they watched you, enraptured, as you described the trees of Greenwood, covering the shuffling and whispering of thirteen dwarves. You waved your arms as you spoke, keeping the guards' focus as the company crawled into empty barrels. All the while, your eyes followed the progress of the company, your eye lingering on a blond dwarf with quiet determination in his movements.

The stacked barrels were soon filled with delinquent passengers. They were eerily quiet for a few moments, and you crossed your fingers hopefully as Bilbo opened the ramp to the river below and let the barrels go crashing loose. Some of the guards stirred blearily at the commotion, but you laughed obnoxiously over the noise to try and distract them. Bilbo gave you a salute and a thankful nod before sliding down the ramp after his companions.

All hell broke loose as the guards stood and shouted, tripping over their chairs and each other in their rush to do something in the face of this escape. They forgot you in the melee as you sidled up to a wall lined with full barrels, and you made your escape when the door was clear. Heart racing, you made quick work of the halls between you and your rabbit sled, and you were gone before the elves could stop or question you.

As the forest flew by, the Rhosgobel rabbit's tails bouncing away in front of you, you clenched your hands on the handle of the sled. The elven king was surely going to regret his choice to ignore the rising darkness around him. It was even sickening his own forest, you knew, shuddering as you passed spiderwebs the size of large houses. For all his stubborn willfulness, he must surely acknowledge the sickness growing over the land? You sighed. Though frustrated, you had a little satisfaction in pulling one over on the king.

You replayed the dwarves' escape as the rabbits pulled you through the forest. They were a ragged-looking bunch, with bedraggled clothes and hair knotted with dirt and twigs. But they had carried an air of noble purpose about them, a confidence that defied their current station. Some were portly and broad, others twiggy and awkward, but they moved as a united force, driven by something powerful and unseen. Something surely not of the shadows that now haunted the forests. You had never seen anything like it. The dark haired one that you'd seen confronting Thranduil certainly carried himself with dignity. And the light-haired one, you remembered the look of determination in his blue eyes as he strode stealthily to his inelegant means of escape.

You hoped they made it out safely. As you had flown out of the elven gates on your sled, you could hear a raucous clamor from the other side of the stronghold. You had never seen a fight before, but you imagined that racket must have been something like one.

Bilbo had not told you of the company's plans; you were both too busy trying to get them free. But now you wondered, as you drew quickly closer to your home, what was the force that drove them to such determination? Where were they headed? What did they need to accomplish? It was unheard of to see even a single dwarf in these parts, let alone a company of thirteen. It must be something vastly important to unite them and bring them so far from their exile.

You dwelled on these questions until Radagast's house came in sight. It was a relief to see your home again. You had not been gone long, a day, perhaps. But the thatched roof and smoking chimney lifted your spirits significantly.

You released the Rhosgobel rabbits and put away the sled before stepping inside. Radagast, busy inspecting a blackened leaf beneath a microscope, did not notice your entry until you reached across his shoulders to hug him.

"Ooooh, Y/N," he said, setting the leaf down. "I did not expect you back so soon!"

You shrugged. "Well, here I am, all the same."

"How was, er," he trailed off, tapping his lip in thought, "uuuuuhm, the, er..."

"Mirkwood?" You prompted.

"Ah! Yes, Mirkwood!"

Your shoulders slumped as you sat down, hesitant to give your guardian the bad news. "Not as we hoped."

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please give this chapter a vote if you enjoyed it, and I'll have another part published next Thursday!

-RA