Leventis ⚜ Thorin Oakenshield

Chapter 28 : Certain Aid

Casadon Erik's P.O.V

We walk down the Carrock. I was silent. I did not want to speak to any of the dwarves; if I were to die then I would like to die in peace and not crowded with dwarves and a hobbit. But my thoughts do not agree with withering away in a click of the fingers, I must tell Gandalf. He's not really family. But close enough.

The blood spewed down, underneath my clothing but it still stained my tunic. It disobeyed me and pain was erupted. I grit my teeth to stop wincing to prevent any mere noise from escaping, but I am unable to stop my instant reaction as my hand hand cover the entire area.

"You alright lass?" Balin says from below a few steps.

Turns out I stopped in my tracks on the staircase, just to stop my injuries from hurting. And the bruise on my shoulder blade was helping with the infiction. Balin stopped on the uneven stairs to be nothing but concerned for me. I look up at sky. If I keep looking up of the sky I forget the pain. I'll forget everything.

"Is it your shoulder? I saw you take a wee rock too it," Balin says.

I wouldn't call it a wee rock but an entire rock it was true that my shoulder was acting like a bonfire but the wound was worse. Not to mention how close is was to my heart when Azog tried to take it. But I could blame my shoulder and they'll never know that I was truly injured. I fought with my left hand which was stupid and idiotic but I'll do anything to cover this blood up.

"Yeah," I answered back, "But I'll be fine."

I walk past him on the uneven stairs that began to spiral round the bear shaped rock. Gandalf was leading the company at the front. I needed to get to him and tell him I was going to die sooner or later. I removed my hand from the bloody wound. There's blood on my hand and I have no way to hide.

*

When we reach the bottom of the bear structure of the Carrock. There's a river nearby to which Gandalf let us do our business in. Meaning I'm going to wash my hand from anybody noticing that I was bleeding. My legs automatically run towards to sanctuary of water. It's the only help I'll get. Then my legs give way and I skid in the stream, a second effect sprays off my legs. My pants and boots soaking but I need to hide the blood. Jagged rocks rubbed roughly against the legs of an elf. The grass lined the cerulean river with it lushes sage blades of death.

"Someone's eager," I hear one of the dwarves say. It didn't bother me because I could just turn around and slit all their throats.

Then it'll be bloody.

The water doesn't swiftly removed the blood on my hand by itself . My hands rub together in utter hoper that this crimson liquid washes off. By the time I've finished, some of the dwarves are playing in the river. I arise from being one with the water, my pants soak and the disgusting wet feeling sticking to my legs.

I'll die if the cold doesn't catch me.

I stroll over to the wizard who's sat on a rock. Smoking a pipe weed. He glances over at me when begin to come into his view. A smoke circle escapes his mouth.

"I need to talk to you," I say, standing over him, "In private.

Gandalf takes a few shaky moments to acknowledge what I just said. What if one of the dwarves hear what I have to say? Especially Thorin. What if he hears it? And he's only been revived from the dead.

"Well then, take a seat," He gestures his staff at a rock is near Gandalf's but further away from the river. I indeed take a seat on the rock. However, I'm not facing the company.