I dusted my dirty and torn clothes off, frowning at the damage to my coat, holes poked through it and strains of who knows what plus the dirt and rain didn't do it much good. Luckily this cloak is made of strong material. Now that I can see the cloak in daylight, or what remaining daylight there is, I noticed the dark cloth, nearly black but an off dark shade of blue thrown in. Small dwarf like geometric shapes were stamped into the line of the cloak and the hood before connecting at two dark pieces of metal with criss crossed lines in the metal and then the string tying it off. Looks like there is even a clasp between the two metal pieces to hold it together.
Now that I think of it, I don't think this cloak is Balin's. At least, I have no memory of seeing any of the dwarves wearing this cloak, so who's is it? Well, I don't know who's it is but I am not returning it. I rather like it, even if it is a bit big on me. If the owner of this cloak wants it back, I might fight them for it, it's very rare to find nice but durable cloaks in villages on the road. Most of my cloaks get torn up pretty fast.
I proceeded to check my knives as I pushed the cloak over my shoulders to free up my arms, pleased it stayed as I checked how many knives I lost in that fight. I wasn't too please to find I am not missing five or six knives but that isn't as bad of losses as I thought and I knew I would need to use them sparingly, who knows how many I will still have by the end of this journey.
I was patting my clothes and checking at how torn up my clothes were, when I heard it. I froze in reaching for my boots to check the knives there, my blood turning to ice.
Warg's, howling and on the hunt for blood. Tons of them.
In checking my own condition, I had forgotten all about the goblin king sending a messenger to orcs. Now they must have tracked down our scent, the howls were one too many for a small orc pack. No, this would be a bloodbath. I would say dozens of wargs are in the forest.
I looked up along with the others in horror as we all tensed, looking around in worry. I looked at Thorin with wide eyes as I stood up straight, hand flying to my sword at my waist even though I knew it would do little good. Thorin was tense as well, looking first to the forest behind us then Gandalf as he got into a defensive position, hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Out of the frying pan..." Thorin growled.
"...and into the fire! Run! RUN!" Gandalf finished Thorin's sentence, yelling out the last part because there is no way the wargs didn't pick up the scent. They know we are here, there is no escaping them this time like we did with Radagast and the elves. there are no hiding places here, the evergreen trees to widely spread, and no nearby safe place like Rivendell.
We are stuck to running, we can only hope we might outrun them, as unlikely as that is. But I knew staying here was a death wish and I am not eager to die, so I ran as fast as my twisted ankle could let me, my entire leg bursting with pain but I ignored it as I rast as fast as I can. Sadly, my ankle is damaged enough it would always support my weight, so a stumbled quite a bit over bumpy land. Luckily we didn't have to jump down as the land is smooth or I knew my ankle wouldn't support me then.
I was also lucky sweet Bilbo ran in time with me, grabbing my arm and getting me back to running every time I stumbled, much like I did for him and Bombur before Rivendell. I was grateful he was returning the favor or the dwarves and Gandalf would have left me in the dust.
I glanced back, my red hair flying into my vision and away with every running step I took. The sun was getting real low in the sky and the light in the forest was lessening, making it harder to see. Still, I was able to spot the movement of lithe creatures jumping and racing through the forest in our direction. I looked forward once more as I stumbled again, Bilbo catching my arm once more.
Bilbo looked at me an shock and confusion as, while running, I tore the red cloth off my forehead and roughly drew my hair together, tying it off roughly and yanking a few hairs, but it get's it out of my vision, which I may need if we get stuck in fight.
I looked back once more, gasping as I saw a warg close in, more behind him before i pushed Bilbo away, where he hid behind a rock. I rolled out of the way of the warg before running forward some more, having lost sight of the hobbit. I do hope he is alright, but I need to focus on surviving myself if I hope to find him. I spun behind a tree, jumping and fearing I was about to die as the warg ran right past my tree.
I ran out once more, running fast as I could to catch up with the dwarves when I heard the heavy falls of soft paws behind me, racing right in my direction. I looked around frantically, see only a few nearby trees and not enough to elude the warg like I did the previous one. My breath sped up in fear and my steps faltered, my mind rushing with the memory of stabbing knife after knife into the warg's muzzle gripping my arm and shaking me from side to side like a ragdoll. The pain, the blinding pain as the warg ripped through muscle before a knife hit the mark of it's eye and it let go, paw reaching out with razor claws that inflicted more damage to my arm.
I shook my head violently away from that moment, one of my weak points, when a hand grabbed the same said arm and yanked me quickly out of the path of the warg and behind a rock. The sound of a drawn sword was heard as I was roughly pushed behind the rock for safety. I watched, as though in slow motion, as the blade flashed in the remaining light of the sun before cutting through the warg's neck, making it drop, growling stopped.
The remaining light caught the curve of an elvish blade. Thorin. I looked up from my rough drop to the ground behind the rock, surely looking ridiculous, to meet deep blue eyes that should not me familiar to me, yet are.
Internally, and to the female side of myself I will never acknowledge, I found it sweet the seemingly cold hearted dwarf king, or at least cold hearted to those who are not his kin, would risk his own life to save mine. I also questioned why it was this stubborn dwarf king out of everyone here who keeps saving me. It's like he's watching me the whole time, which is creepy to think.
I pulverized that female side of myself into the dirt as I stood, gritting my teeth as pain shot up my leg and through my hip, all the way up into my arm. Ya, I don't want to know the damage I am dealing to my ankle, but I knew I needed to run more, or else i wouldn't have an ankle, or a body for that matter.
I would be warg food.
Thorin grabbed my arm and yanked on it to make me catch up to speed running faster than I could with my ankle, yet again my arm ached from him yanking on it like he did before. All of us were running as fast as we probably have ever run, the moon rising and giving us light as the glow of the sun was all that was visible now.
Soon we reached a very, very tall v shaped cliff, steeply declining down and down... we would not survive such a fall, I believe it is steeper than the cavern we feel down and we had a bridge to help soften the impact by catching on the walls. We have nothing like that here.
"Were trapped!" I said, no longer caring at the fear in my voice because undoubtedly the other dwarves present were afraid too.
I was terrified to my core. If I thought goblins were terrifying for what they did to females, I knew for a fact orcs are much, much worse and cruel creatures. It would be like a picnic in comparison to what the orcs would do.
I was seriously tempted to jump straight off the cliff instead of face such torture, orc are that horrific of creatures to females.
"Up into the trees, all of you! Come on, climb! Bilbo, climb!" Gandalf said, spinning towards the nearest tree as he began to climb. I raced up to the nearest tree as I looked up and then behind us, seeing wargs approaching fast. I braced my good foot and hunched down, jumping up with all the force i could summon off of just my good foot, reaching up and catching the lowest branch with my hand before swinging up my other hand to grab on. I hissed, teeth clenched as I used all my strength to lift myself up onto the branch.
Under my breath I was swearing quite colorfully in sindarin because my arm really protested the action due to Thorin yanking on it, but I know such moves on Thorin's part probably saved my life so I wasn't cussing him out, more I was cursing orcs and goblins for putting me in this situation in the first place. I called the dead goblin king, wargs, and orcs some rather foul names in sindarin.
I continued pulling myself up the tree to the best of my ability, grabbing the next branch and sometimes placing my feet in the trunk to push up, or mostly just using my good foot. When that was impossible, I was just using the strength of my arms alone to pull myself up to the next branch. Finally, once I thought I was high enough, I sat on the branch, leaning against the trunk of the tree as I wheezed, gripping my protesting bruised ribs. I gritted my teeth, refusing to show just how weak I feel at the moment.
While I have definitely fought through worse with my arm torn up by warg fangs and claws, that was the last warg of the small orc pack, so I didn't have to fight after the injury. This is my first time fighting through injuries to keep on fighting, which is why I don't want the dwarves to know and think I am inexperienced.
But I don't think any of that matters now, since we might not survive till sunrise. Another dwarf pulled themselves up into the tree beside me, others having climbed higher into the tree above us.
"They're coming!" Thorin called, surprising me to realise he is the dwarf in the branch across from me as I looked up from clutching my ribs to see Thorin standing on the branch across from mine, looking out onto the ground below. Why is it my luc that I end up next to Thorin? Why not Fili, or Kili, or Bofur, or Bilbo, or... Well, anyone of the company really. Why is it my luck that I seem to always end up near the royal dwarf in sticky situations like this one?
I quickly pushed that thought away, pushing my pain and injuries to the back of my mind and clearing my head, knowing we might need a few clear headed people for what is to come. I looked down and my eyes widened as a warg jumped up, jaws snapping inches from my boot. I quickly lifted my leg and used the truck as a jump board for my good foot, reaching up and grabbing the next branch and pulling myself up quickly.
It's surprising what a near death situation can do to make you move faster. I looked down while gripping the trunk, now right across from Thorin who was on a slightly higher branch. I clutched the trunk tighter as the whole tree shook from the force of the wargs attacking the tree. I grimaced as the tree was rattled back and forth from the weight of the wargs trying to reach us. I was also cringing at their emotions practically being forced on me. Normally I wouldn't sense such things but in their numbers I was vividly aware of their blasing need for blood. It isn't pretty to have to feel, which is why I was cringing.
Till I felt the comforting, lighter and more in tune emotions to my own. I gasped, looking up to the sky happily as I heard the faint flapping of wings before I picked out two light blue eyes in the night. A low happy croak came from my raven friend as he landed on my shoulder. I smirked, seeing his feathers covered in charcoal, a few splotches of white visible. I wondered where he found a fire to cover himself in charcoal but never was I so happy to have taught Fairfin tricks at hiding.
He's such a brilliant bird.
I would have reached up and petted his head if I wasn't clutching onto the tree with all my strength. Fairfin caught my gratitude at him being safe though and rubbed his beak against my cheek, making me smirk as I noticed the smear of missing charcoal on his beak that is no doubt on my face now. Fairfin turned a beady blue eye down to the wargs and glared at them like he could take them on.
Since the incident of my arm, he has always hated wargs most of all. It made me love my bird all the more with how much he cares. I looked over to see Thorin staring in shock at Fairfin as well, his eyes moving to the key still wrapped around the bird, kept safe through the entire time we were stuck in Goblin Town. I smiled at Fairfin, I knew he could do it, keep the key safe.
Fairfin didn't fly over to return the key to Thorin yet, that can be done after all of this, if we live. All of us turned our attention to the ground as the trees stopped shaking and wargs stopped growling, backing off to form a hunting circle around the base of the tree, looking up and licking their lips as they prowled around the trees, eager to eat us.
I looked in the direction of where more wargs with orcs on their backs were coming from, a stone dropping in my gut at the sight that walked into view from distant trees, stopping on a jutting point of rock. A massive warg of great size bearing some deep scars stood upon that rock, fur as white as snow mixed with black lines and vicious red eyes that spoke of more bloodlust than the rest of the wargs. His emotions, which added to the loud amount from the rest of the wargs, were even worse, causing me to shiver.
Atop the warg, sitting there and grinning up at all of us in the trees was the ugliest and largest orc I have ever seen, his vile grin spoke of many gory kills he has do doubt done, but his ice white skin and missing arm told me exactly who this orc is.
Azog.