The Northern Mountains

~Six~

six

Gandalf bowed his head graciously with a small curve of his aged lips, more so than he had done to the Son of Thrain, "Good evening, my Lady. Thank you so much for coming."

Hartlyn smiled brilliantly, a sparkle of...something in her gorgeous green eyes, "Yes, well, I suppose I needed an excuse to leave my castle."

'Lady?' The dwarves shifted at that. 'Castle?' Who was this woman to live in a castle? To be called a Lady by the wizard? And who was the man who seemed to shadow her every move, that seemed to stare them all down to the feeling of being prey.

"How long did it take you to travel here from the Northern Mountains?" The Istari questioned, curious of course.

Shock spread through the company, except Thorin. Wasn't everything about the Northern Mountains a myth? A bedtime story?

A secretive smile appeared on her pink lips, while behind her Jon smirked, "The time it takes to simply snap my fingers."

Thorin, the tallest dwarf rose from his seat with a thunderous expression on his face and spat before Balin could stop him, "We have no need for humans on this quest. Especially not a woman."

The taller man in black leather growled at his disrespect and took a step forward until Hartlyn stopped him, her smile turning predatory as she moved her gaze over to him. The tall dwarf fought against the need, the urge to bow his head in submission when her eyes began to glow unnaturally, the air being sucked out of the room.

Gandalf had sighed and closed his eyes, tucking himself away into a corner whilst Bilbo watched, unnerved by the sudden change in the kind woman who he had greeted at his door.

"Trust me when I say this, Master Dwarf, that we are not human," A flicker of an abnormal mask appeared on her face. It was horrifying, with hollowed cheeks, dark pits for eyes and a twisted, vicious snarl on its blue lips. Her hair changing from its fire like colour to a shade as black as coal.

Her beautiful face returned with a sweet, poisonous smirk, "We are anything but."

:3

Hartlyn woke the next day at sunrise.

The darling hobbit owner had offered them the biggest room he had, but the witch had declined, instead choosing to take to the front lawn, setting up a small tent.

It fooled the company of dwarves, for inside it was almost as large as her bedroom in her castle, fitted with everything to call it a home for an adventure they were about to embark on.

The lavish, magically enhanced tent had been pulled a bottomless bag Hartlyn had found amongst her belongings. She can't remember where she got it from, but the red-haired beauty could vaguely tell it was from a friend. A bushy-haired... brunette...

The immortal witch rolled over on the king-sized bed to stare at her sleeping lover. She traced her favourite scar over his eyebrow with her thumb and smiled lightly when Jon's eyes opened slightly to glare at her with a sleep hazed expression.

"Good morning, my love," An excited look settled on her beautiful face, "We're going on an adventure."

Jon huffed, not wanting to leave the warm bed, so he tugged her close, a small squeak escaping her mouth, "I don't want to." He pouted like a child.