Chapter 3

Originally posted on: 11th February 2014

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At the beginning, there were their voices in praise of Elbereth.

A! Elbereth Gilthoniel!
silivren penna míriel
o menel aglar elenath,
Gilthoniel, A! Elbereth!

He heard his own voice - DORIAN?! SYBIL?!
He heard their shared laughter, almost felt the happiness ...
We must do everything in our power to repay the debt which we have to Thorin Oakenshield.
A Life for a life.
And shouldn’t we simply reveal ourselves?
And fight with Thorin and his Company?
We ... don’t want him to know about us.
The chase will participate at least two, maybe three dozen of  orcs.
It’s just the two of us.
How are we supposed to protect them?
We have a job to do.
We need to stop Azog.
He knows that Thorin is here.
He wants to kill him ...
It's them!
You don’t understand, they'll kill you if they see you with us!
There’s no time to explain, it's all about your safety!
By Aulë, I beg you, go away!
I see them already!
RUN!
Then, there was a scream. His own. It woke him up.
Kili had nightmares about the meeting with Dorian and Sybil, he still heard these snippets of conversations.
Young dwarf looked around. Luckily, he did not wake anyone. Only Gandalf, who had a watch, knelt beside him. 

“Everything all right, Kili?” he asked, his expression full of concern.  

“Yes, everything’s fine,” Kili lied. 

The wizard was not fooled that easily, so he just stared at him for a moment, as if to look into the dwarf’s mind. After that, Gandalf departed. More and more members of the Company suspected something. He and Fili rarely were so silent, pensive and slow to fun and jokes.

How to stay unchanged after such a meeting?
How to forget the hymn to Elbereth?
How not to be sad after a better idea of ​​that people grow old so fast?
How not to wonder about their mission?
What if what they say about Azog is true?
Who came then, why we had to leave?

These questions had circulated persistently in Fili’s head when he was waking up from an unpleasant dream he couldn’t remember. He woke up even more tired than he had been before he had gone to sleep.

Today was the day of their next encounter. 

He had planned something special with Kili due to this fact. It would require a lot of effort, but in the end, he and his brother would satisfy curiosity.

***

She felt only guilt. Damn overwhelming sense of guilt. Sybil had realized how great Azog’s wrath would be. How much the dwarves would suffer.

She didn't balme Dorian. He had always been the one to talks and negotiations. Besides, she would have acted the same if the had been in his place.

There had been about eight messengers, moreover, everyone of them had mounted wargs. She and her brother had had to consider that battle very well. Thankfully, she get along with Dorian without words. They ended up with scratches, bruises, no serious injuries.

But after that they had to rest. Without fire, of course. The corwns of trees were safe.

Dorian couldn’t bear sleeping in this way. He was afraid of falling down in every coming second, and the rope which was always tied to the branches did not convince him.

What was more, they had only heat of their own bodies. Covered with flimsy blankets which they had scunged, found or even stolen, they were often freezing to the bone.

 They didn’t complain because they didn't have anyone to complain to.

Once again they were caught up by their usual signs of human mortality - even though they were trying to keep pace with the Thorin’s Company, that wouldn’t do. Dwarves were tough and they had ponies.

Even so many months of wandering, hunger and cold hadn't prepared Dorian and Sybil for this rate of travel.

Moreover, they were mentally depressed. Awareness of the evil caused by killing the messengers killed them too. The only thing which kept them on their feet was the thought that they still could fix it.

The whole seven days after the last meeting with Fili and Kili were one endless nightmare filled with exhaustion, pain, famine, sadness, fear, coldness as well as lack of sleep, full of bad dreams anyway. It seemed that Dorian had known exactly how much they could withstand, wandering in this way. One more day and they would give up.

The seventh day was a true blessing. Just one more step, two, three, yet only a hundred yards, a mile, two, just a little, and they would appease their hunger, bathe and warm up again.

When they had noticed the Company in the distance, stopping for the night, Dorian and Sybil began to prepare their own accommodation with energy from nowhere.

Brother gathered wood and set fire. She hunted, groomed and cooked the game, while he guarded if there was safe. After a dip in a cruelly cold stream and washing their clothes, they began to feast. This scheme they had known by heart.

As they had eaten two rabbits in fricassee of wild parsley, which was even better than the previous one, they waited.

Why Fili and Kili weren’t coming?     

                                                

They combed their hair without such emotions as the last time.

Out of boredom Dorian began to sharpen and oil his magnificent sword. It was so big that he had to carry it on his back. The weapon seemed to glow with its own light. It was made of the finest steel and had a simple, mercilessly sharp blade. What was more, it always fit perfectly to the hand holding it. It was a masterpiece of the art of making swords.

Sybil wanted to carve a few arrows, but she couldn’t concentrate. She wanted to see with her brothers!

With Fili in particular.

She polished her bow, washed the dishes, did everything useful that she could.

And they were still not here!

Anxiety started to bother the siblings. They understood that it was not so easy just to get out of the camp but they were supposed to meet, weren’t they?

“Dorian …”

“Hm?”

“I’m afraid.”

“That they won’t come?”

“Yes … maybe … let’s sing to Elbereth, shall we? It always helps me.”

“Well then,” he sighed and started a song:

A Elbereth Gilthoniel,
silivren penna míriel

Sybil joined her brother:

o menel aglar elenath!

Then they sang together:

Na-chaered palan-díriel
o galadhremmin ennorath,
Fanuilos, le linnathon
nef aear, sí nef aearon!

“Don’t stop, ever,” came a familiar voice, or a combination of two voices actually. Fili and Kili came out from nowhere. There was general rejoicing, everyone exchanged hugs, smiles and jokes. Fun has reached a higher level, when Fili and Kili triumphantly announced that they brought beer.

It was very cunning, clever indeed. To make people get drunk. You could draw a lot of information from them without much resistance.

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So here it is, another chapter. It doesn't explain anything, really.
In my first post I claimed that the story would be slow to update. And it will be, but not yet. Chapters in the Tome I aren't long and Tome I isn't large as well. Tome II is a different matter. It will be much more difficult to translate it. Moreover, I finally have to finish writing "A life for a life" in original. I'm just pretty sick of Dorian and Sybil. I've been writing Tome III since... hell, four months and I'm not even in a halfway...