Child of Sky (eventual Legolas/OC)

Book 1: chapter 3

As we rest, I look out to the dark forest below, my fingers playing with a soft brown feather. I was sure I saw something down there just a moment ago, but the new moon is making it difficult to set apart animal from anything else.

I glance behind me as I spot Bilbo from the corner of my eye sneakily passing by, but only snicker to myself as he treats his pony to a nice red apple. It must mean he has made friends with it after all.

Suddenly a foul sound is carried through the air, echoing off the rock around us. It alerts me immediately, making me look back to where I was looking before, but see nothing there one again.

"What was that?" Bilbo asks in a panic.

"Orcs." I tell him bluntly, making him look around worried.

"Orcs?" he questions. He probably has never seen a creature like it.

"Throat-cutters." says Fili darkly. "There'll be dozens of them out there. The Lowlands are crawling with them." he says, a hint of humor in his voice.

"They strike in the wee hours, when everyone is asleep. Quick and quiet, no screams, just lots of blood." Kili butts in before they both laugh at the look on poor Bilbo's face, who turned as white as snow.

I shake my head as Thorin scolds them for their childish behavior before walking off to overlook the forest.

"Don't mind him laddie." Balin says to a scowling Kili. "Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs." he tells him, before telling us the story.

Balin tells us how they went to Moria after the dragon chased them from their home, only to find leagues of orcs already there. One particular orc, Azog the defiler, killed the King, Thorin's grandfather, and with Thorin's father nowhere to be found, he set his sights on Thorin himself. Balin tells us that he used nothing but an oak branch, hence Thorin's name, as a shield and eventually cut off Azog's arm.

The orcs retreated soon after the dwarves rallied and they reclaimed Moria, but they didn't celebrate because the deaths were too many to count. "And I thought to myself, there is one who I could follow. There is one who I could call king." Balin says finally, looking over at Thorin. A moment of silence is all that follows as they all look at him in awe.

"But the pale orc, what happened to him?" Bilbo finally dares to ask, making Thorin turn around.

"He slunk back in the hole whence it came. The filth died of his wounds long ago." he says rather angrily, apparently not having overcome the event yet.

After the story, it does not take long for all to fall asleep, although maybe a fitful one for some as nightmares seem to haunt them. I keep my watch though, not letting my eyes stray from the surroundings as I can sense a feeling of being watched. Tonight I will make sure no harm comes to my fellow travelers.

The following morning, our luck is out concerning the weather. It pours heavily as do the complaints of the company. "Mister Gandalf, can't you do something about this deluge?" Dori calls out to the annoyed wizard.

"It is raining master dwarf, and it will continue to rain until rain is done. If you wish to change the weather of the world, I suggest you find yourself another wizard." Gandalf retorts.

"Are there any?" Bilbo asks him.

"Of what?"

"Other wizards." he clarifies, making Gandalf nod.

"There are five of us. The greatest of our order is Saruman the White. Then there are the two Blue wizards...you know, I've quite forgotten their names." he confesses, probably not having met with them for an age.

"Who is the fifth?" Bilbo asks making Gandalf smile.

"Well, that would be Radagast, the Brown." he muses, a fond smile on his face.

I remember him, having met him a few times. He is an odd fellow, but I do like him. He has a kind and honest heart.

"Is he a great wizard, or is he... more like you?" is questioned making me chuckle to myself.

Gandalf, though insulted, answers anyway. "I think he is a great wizard in his own way. He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals above others. He keeps a watchful eye over the forestlands East. A good thing too, as evil is always seeking for foothold in this world." he explains.

"Say lass," Dwalin calls, making me look at him. "Now that we heard wizard talk, I'm quite curious as to your skill set. How about it?" he urges me to tell me more.

I smile lightly, saying; "All you need to know for now is that my ears and eyes are as sharp as my nails master dwarf." I tell him, not yet ready to give up more information.

Later, as the rain has let up, they set up camp once again, much to Gandalf's dismay. The location doesn't suit him as he remembers that the broken down house on site was housed by a farming family only recently. But there was little trace of that now. The ruins make me uncomfortable as well.

"I think it would be wiser to move on. We could make for the hidden valley." Gandalf urges, making Thorin bristle in annoyance.

"I told you, I will not go near that place!" he argues.

"We have a map that we cannot read." Gandalf reasons. "Lord Elrond could help us."

"Help?! When the dragon took Erebor, what help came from the elves? Orcs plunder Moria and desecrate our holes. The elves looked on and did nothing!" Thorin rants. "You ask me to approach the very people who betrayed my grandfather, who betrayed my father!" he continues.

I turn myself away from the bickering between Thorin and Gandalf, sighing. "He's certainly one to hold a grudge no?" I question to the hobbit standing beside me. Bilbo only shrugs, shaking his head before looking up as Gandalf stalks away angrily.

"Gandalf, where are you going?" he wonders.

"To seek the company of the only one who makes some sense around here." he mumbles.

"Who's that?"

"Myself, mister Baggins! I've had enough of dwarves for one day." Gandalf says before disappearing from sight.

I sling my bow and quiver onto my back, before walking away from the group. "Miss Therith?" Balin calls, making me turn around.

"I'll be close by. It's time I'd take a look around. That's why I'm here after all." I tell him before strutting down the hill to look out for anything out of the ordinary.