Demons

Chapter Six

Megura

Aulë seemed to have been throwing everything he had at us. It started off with rain and now the sun was glaring down out us from the bright blue sky above. Our only relief was created by canopies of spindly branches that hung over our heads, but those moments of refreshing shade were short lived. I felt as if we’d ridden through all four seasons by the time Thorin allowed us to set up camp.

We trudged along a thin dirt path. The blazing sun was at its peak and I could feel rivulets of sweat trickling down my back. My hands were slick on the reins; my palms were drenched in sweat. Our loyal ponies didn’t seem particularly fond of the heat, either (Finley had developed a frustrating stubbornness when he was asked to move any faster than a plod). His mane was matted and his smooth body shone with sweat. I’d overheard a few of the other dwarves grumbling about the conditions but none of them had voiced their complaints to their leader; none of them wanted to slow his progress.

So, when Thorin chose to stop on his own accord, a chorus of relieved sighs rippled through the company.

“We’ll camp here for the night.” Came the King’s booming voice, “Fili, Kili, look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them.” Thorin’s nephews swiftly dismounted and made their way through the company, assisting them as they slid off of their ponies and then leading the animals into a small clearing to the right of the path.

Fili approached me to take Finley off my hands just as our Wizard companion uttered something in a grave tone... it sent shivers up my spine. “A farmer and his wife used to live here.” My eyes darted to Fili, then to Thorin and back to Gandalf. The young Prince gave me a nervous smile, a discreet shrug of the shoulders, and turned to join his brother.

Clearly Fili and I were the only one’s to have heard Gandalf’s statement, because Thorin could still be heard shouting orders to his kin: “Oin, Gloin! Get a fire going.”

A frown creased Gandalf’s brow as he strode towards the dwarf, his grey robes billowing in a soft breeze. I trotted along behind him, sensing that Thorin may need more than a wizard to persuade him to change his plans.

We followed Thorin into a small stone ruin. Arches were almost visible among the rubble; it looked like the remains of a house...

“I think it would be wiser to move on. We could make for the Hidden Valley.”

Oh no, I thought.  I braced myself for the incoming storm. I may have been absent through most of Thorin’s trials, but I’d known him long enough to know that he’d always had at least a slight grudge against the race that resided in the Hidden Valley.

“I have told you already, I will not go near that place.” Thorin growled.

“Why not? The elves could help us. We could get food, rest, advice.”

“I do not need their advice.” I could see that Gandalf was treading dangerous ground now. But that wasn’t going to stop me.

“We have a map that we cannot read. Lord Elrond could help us.” I reasoned. Thorin had apparently gone this whole time without noticing that I was present and I was thankful he had, for now I felt myself wither under the cold glare he threw me.

His tone was harsh, “Help? A dragon attacks Erebor, what help came from the Elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls, the Elves looked on and did nothing. You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather and betrayed my father.” A speck of spit landed upon my cheek as he hissed his final words.

“You are neither of them. I did not give you that map and key for you to hold onto the past.” snapped Gandalf, his temper rising.

His words pushed Thorin over the edge, “I did not know they were yours to keep.”

Turning on his heel, Gandalf stalked away from the dwarf. He was heading away from the campsite.

“Everything alright? Gandalf, where are you going?” Bilbo chirped in the distance.

“To seek the company of the only one around here who’s got any sense.” came the reply.

“Who’s that?” I small smile crept onto my face; Bilbo’s curiosity always managed to lift my spirits.

“Myself, Mr. Baggins!” declared Gandalf, “I’ve had enough of dwarves for one day.” And, with that, the Grey Wizard was gone.

Thorin

I watched the wizards retreating figure and rolled my eyes. I didn’t understand why everyone was so desperate to go to that scum for help. We dwarves are perfectly capable to handle this quest, without their help!

My stomach growled. In my frustration I had not noticed how hungry I had become. “Come on, Bombur,” I shouted, “we’re hungry.” One of my companions nodded their acknowledgement to me and began to busy themselves preparing some food. From my position I could see Bilbo murmuring something to Balin, probably regarding Gandalf’s departure.

“You know, it wasn’t Lord Elrond who abandoned you.” Her voice was soft and timid, ”It was the elves of Mirkwood who watched your kin suffer.”

Why can’t she just drop it? Blood boiling with anger, I turned on the woman that stood beside me, “How would you know?” I snapped, “You were ‘dead’, remember.”

Megura’s courage faltered, but it didn’t take long for her to pull herself together again. “Thorin, I don’t understa-“

“You dare talk to me as if you know me? You piece of filth!” my voice was barely more than a whisper but it dripped with menace, nonetheless. “You lied to me, you let me grieve for you. Where have you been all this time? Why return now?” I was spitting my words with such venom, even I was shocked.

She shook her head, “Why can’t you ever listen to others? We all want to see you reclaim Erebor, we are all trying to help you. Why can’t you accept that? Why can’t you trust us?”

“YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO ASK FOR MY TRUST!” I roared, not caring that everyone would hear, “GET OUT OF MY SIGHT, YOU LOATHSOME ELVEN MONGREL!”