Hummingbird Heartbeat

Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Bilbo screamed and Maranda sucked in a deep breath. They hit the water and bobbed to the top. Maranda's ankle wings kept them afloat as Bilbo flailed wildly. Nori grabbed Bilbo's hand and Bilbo gripped the rim of his barrel.

"Well done Master Baggins," Thorin called back and Bilbo almost fell off his barrell. Maranda was laying on a wooden tray as her ankle wings propelled her forward.

"What are you doing?" Gloin grumbled.

"Motor boat," she sang and followed the barrels down the river. They were almost to the gate when the first horn sounded. Maranda cursed and looked around. The Elves were rushing to the gate lever and Maranda slid off her tray and flung it at the Elf's head. It hit his helmet and he staggered sideways, toppling over the wall and falling into the water.

"Hel-" But that was all she got out before Maranda went under. A hand fished her out and she found herself in a barrel by a very wet Thorin Oakenshield. "Thanks," she coughed as she sputtered out water. He grunted and cursed at the wall as the gate closed. "It-it's fine. Kili- KILI!" she screamed in alarm.

"What, what is it? What happens?" Thorin said in worry as the other barrells collided with theirs. She covered her head as they bumped against the bars, tipping sideways. He braced them against the bars, both hands gripping the cold metal. He looked down at her and froze. Her eyes were pure gold and tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Two races, both alike in dignity in fair Erebor where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new battle creed, where battle's call makes battles path unclear. From forth the fatal loins of these five foes, a pair of star crossed lovers lose their lives, whose mighty adventure wyrm must overthrow, and with his deaths ignite a burning strife, the looming passage of the death marked gate, and the countenance of the races rage which, with these lovers end, nought could remove. Destiny's road crosses now once more, Make your choice Son of Erebor. Joy for thine kin or death for thine kith, speak now lest blood of child grim be on your head." Maranda's voice was a rasp, a prophecy.

"Maranda?" Thorin whispered. She blinked and her eyes were once more green, a ring of gold around the iris and pupil.

"Was I just quoting Shakespeare?" she asked and he shook his head there was a fierce yowl and Maranda jumped, shaking the barrel. "Orcs," she hissed. "It's Bolg, he's Azog's son and he's here on orders to kill you and the lads."

"KILI!" cried Fili in anguish. Thorin span and fear was on every facet of his face.

"He'll be fine." Maranda mumbled one hand on Thorin's chest.

"But you said I had a choice," he said she looked up at him. "His blood was on my hands if I chose wrong. His joy or his misery. That's what you said." Maranda stared, eyes wide.

"I may have said it, but it's not your choice. Not really," she mumbled. There was the sound of a wrenching wood and Maranda turned. "We're moving!" she cried in joy and the barrel went down. She circled her arms wildly as water filled in around her. With a loud sloshing sound, the barrell righted itself and Thorin put an arm around her, pulling her close to his side.

"Hold as still as you can," he said and she stared up at him in a moment of complete and utter understanding that even if he was more often than not cold and confusing and unusually awkward, he was above all else a protector, and he was keeping her safe now, too. Halfway down the river Legolas caught up with them.

"Legolas?" Maranda shouted in surprise.

"My darling, please, return to the castle with me!" he shouted as he shot an Orc through the head.