Rue (A Thorin Oakenshield/Hobbit Fanfiction)

20

Once the day had settled down, the Company made camp in a small clearing they found in the woods. In their first few hours of travel, they had left the comforts of the Shire behind for the bareness of the wilds. Everyone was relieved to rest for the night, but anyone could tell that their guard was tenfold what it had been when they were in Bag End.

The Company had begun to set up their bedrolls, the only noises being that of scattered conversation. Just as Bifur lit the fire, a shriek sounded through the air, causing all of the dwarves to look up from their current tasks.

"What was that?" Bilbo asked, though he feared he did not want to know the answer.

"Orcs."

"Orcs?"

Talia's attention drifted from sharpening her knives to her nephew at the words, her eyes burning with a deep hate. Next to her, Balin and Thorin had caught on to the brothers' intentions, their looks grave.

"Throat-cutters. There'll be dozens of them out there." Fili corroborated, glancing at his brother and grinning.

"The low-lands are crawling with them." Kili continued, enjoying Bilbo's sudden panic at the prospect. "They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood."

The boys laughed while Bilbo paled, some of the other dwarves cracking smiles as well. Talia, however, was not amused, but she returned to her knives, the rock scratching against them sounding louder and more sinister than before. It would do her no good to get worked up over such a matter. They didn't know of her past, like the others, and they were too young to understand the weight of their words.

But Thorin could tell how much it bothered Talia, and would've been able to even if he hadn't known of her whereabouts for the past century. She had stiffened, and as she looked down at her knives, she struck them harder and harder each time. Her green eyes had hardened, as had Thorin's own.

"You think that's funny?" Thorin began, standing suddenly. All conversation amongst the dwarves ceased upon hearing the sternness in his voice. "You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?"

"We didn't mean anything by it." Kili muttered, his eyes looking downcast.

"No, you didn't. You know nothing of the world." His uncle said, his voice low and dark. He turned to face the edge of the cliff before him, his eyes settling on the valley before he snapped again.

"Think of your words before you speak them." Talia's voice startled all around her. It held a tone of intense seriousness, yet there was a sadness within that the dwarves, the wizard, and the hobbit could all detect. "Our kin has been scarred by the heinous acts of the Orcs, more so than you know. There is enough danger in our quest. Do not cause anyone more grief than what they already suffer."

She held the eyes of her nephews for one more moment before returning to her blades. She spoke not only for Bilbo, but also for herself. Thorin looked back at her momentarily before returning his gaze to the landscape. It was then that the Company understood her time apart from them had not been one to celebrate, no. Something terrible had happened to her, something that had left a mark on her soul and forever changed her.

"Don't mind him, laddie. Thorin has more cause than most to hate Orcs." Though Balin did not know of what Talia spoke, he could offer an explanation for their leader's actions.

"After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had got there first. Moria had been taken by legions of Orcs, led by the most vile of all their race... Azog the Defiler."