The Waterdancer

Chapter 15

I could hear the whispering of a spell as I opened my eyes. As I came back to consciousness, I could feel the pain of my wounds returning. I felt the sting in my middle, the burn of the cuts on my face, and the pressure and soreness in my chest. I weakly looked around me. It appeared that we were out of the clutches of the Orcs, and we were on top of some kind of mountain.

Then I remembered what I saw out there. The Hobbit. He tackled that Orc to save me. Where was he now? Was he alive? Was he dead? I searched the company before meeting Gandalf's eyes. "The halfling?" I whispered.

The Wizard gave a slight smile. "It's alright. Bilbo is here. He's quite safe." he said. I rolled over on the ground, trying to pick myself up. Kili and Dwalin grabbed my arms to assist me. Once I was up on my feet, I shrugged them off, and glared at the Hobbit.

"You! What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed!" I hissed. The Hobbit frowned, and looked down, trying to shrink away. I stepped closer towards him. "Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild? And that you had no place amongst us?" The Hobbit said nothing, and I could see his frightened face beneath his bangs.

My eyes softened then, looking over this small creature. "I have never been so wrong in all of my life!" I declared, and drew the Hobbit into an embrace. This Hobbit was truly a rare character. It was like Nemirien said, I should have given him a chance. There really was a side to him that was brave and courageous. He was loyal, and that was everything that I could ask of him. I let Master Baggins go, and he smiled at me. "I am sorry I doubted you." I said sincerely.

"No, I would have doubted me too!" he tried to reason. "I'm not a hero, or a warrior...not even a burglar." We all smiled at his comment. As I was about to say more, I saw something familiar in the far distance.

Master Baggins followed my gaze, along with the rest of the company. "Is that what I think it is?" he asked. We all walked towards it, that single peak that was so well-known to me.

"Erebor, the Lonely Mountain. The last of the great Dwarf kingdoms of Middle Earth." Gandalf announced.

"Our home." I smiled.

A bird flew past us and towards Erebor. "A raven! The birds are returning to the mountain!" Oin announced.

"That, my dear Oin, is a thrush." Gandalf corrected.

"We'll take it as a sign, a good omen." I looked fondly at Master Baggins.

"You're right." he smiled back. "I do believe the worst is behind us."

We made our way down from the peak known as the Carrock, and Gandalf led us to a place where we could rest. I kept looking over to Nemirien, who appeared to be avoiding me. Dwalin told me how he, Nemirien, and my nephews ran down the tree to fight off the Orcs after I passed out. A part of me was angry that she didn't listen to me, but I was more relieved to hear that she wasn't hurt too badly. She only suffered a couple of small cuts on her arms, which I was assured would heal quickly.

I couldn't exactly blame Nemirien for keeping her distance right now. I yelled at her for merely wanting to help me. I'd felt guilty for lashing out, but I didn't know what else to do. I'd only wanted her to be safe, and if that meant she would hate me a little more, then so be it. I would rather she hate me and be unharmed, rather than love me and be dead.

After finding a place to settle, we set up camp, and Gloin got a fire started. There was a river nearby, and I slowly made my way over to it. I wouldn't admit this, but my wounds were making me pretty sore. It hurt the most in my chest, where Azog's mace had knocked me to the ground the first time. I could feel it in my lungs, and it was harder for me to breathe. Nevertheless, I would keep moving. I wouldn't slow down now, not after catching a glimpse of my home.