Chapter Text
On a muddy road, far in the north, as the moon finally vanished in the bright light of the rising sun, a young dwarf woman was tied down to a black horse, riding south. The journey was much to her discomfort, as dwarfs happen to prefer to set off before break of day, not to mention that she was guarded by two horsemen when she could make the journey easily on her own, and the circumstance that she had been kidnapped.
It was still too early for the normal citizens of the South- and Barrow Downs to get up and notice two hooded figures on horses and a dwarf tied onto another, and to realise that the situation was a bit odd, but sooner or later they would attract attention.
They rode along the north-south road, not a lucky decision as the dwarf knew the paths of middelearth as well as her own pockets. She had often wandered off with her cousin Gimli to the safe parts between Rohan and Gondor, and was a regular visitor to the city of Bree, where she just had been trying to enjoy a pint of beer Gimli had been able to get, even though they were too young to drink it and he was a bit younger than her. The broad statue of dwarfs, their strong features and small growth made it nearly impossible to tell a dwarf over the age of 50, an equivalent to a man's age of 17, apart from a full grown dwarf. Only the length of his beard could give away their false games, but to their luck nobody in Bree cared for two rebellious dwarfs trying to find out what beer tastes like. Nobody but two hooded horsemen with dark cloaks and seemingly no voice.
"How dare you take me, Darin, daughter of Balin, daughter of Fundin, heir of the noble house of Durin, without any permission and just tie me to a horse? Who is it you work for and what is your intention?"
The hooded men didn't stop, nor did they slow down. Darin was getting sick of the up and down of the stony road.
"I demand answers"
The figure to her left, slightly broader than the other, began to speak in a low voice she could barely hear over the sound of crushed gravel under the horses hooves.
"M'lady, you are taken to your king with strict order to not get lost and to not cause riot"
Darin paused her next wary demand in surprise.
This was no kidnapping, this was an escort. Poor Gimli must be feeling very betrayed when he realizes he has been hunting noble soldiers and not muggers with evil intentions.
"I do not have a king", she stated proudly, remembering her father's tales of his years under the last king of the dwarfs, Thrain II of Durin, and his glorious reign in Erebor, who was slain long before. Since then there had not been a dwarven king, not for 100 years.
"You do have a king, m'lady. You just don't have a kingdom", said the soldier, and on the three of them rode, until they had a break near Tharbad, shortly before crossing the river Gwathlo.
Many ships loaded with outlandish goods sailed past them, the wood painted in rich colors and brocaded with strange paintings of unknown origin. Darin knew the river, and knew the bridge they were about to cross and the direction they were going, but where this king was she could not imagine.
"Where do we follow this path to?", she asked as one of the soldiers gave her bread and water. They had unmasked themselves and turned out to be men with short beards and long hair. Both of their hands were rough and their eyes of a dark brown color. She had seen such eyes on her roads before.
"We cannot tell you", said the man with the slightly lighter hair and less frightening eyebrows. Not that a dwarf would be frightened by eyebrows, but the other man's were so thick and black that no dwarf would truly trust him.
Darin began to stare at them and realized that she had no reason to believe them, and that she still could be in great danger. But then she remembered her uncle's training, a strong and lovable dwarf she held very dear in her heart, who did his best to prepare her for the dangers of this world, and who would be very disappointed if she would lose her nerves over two grimly looking men half her muscles. So she remained calm and looked out for her cousin, who by now should have already found a horse and was surely on his way to rescue her. Dwarfs don't need rescue, but a little help was always welcome.
"Then tell me your names. How can I trust you", she said, and the one with the darker hair smiled and bit loudly into his piece of bread.
"You can trust us, Our only intention is to serve our king", said the lighter one friendly.
"Is your king the same as mine?", Darin asked. The dark haired man shook his head.
"If you ask me, our king isn't even a real king"
The lighter one kicked the other with his elbow and huffed.
Darin looked at them insistently.
"Who are you"
"I'm Kendro, a soldier of Gondor. This is Varn. You can rely on us, we will bring you safe to your king. We never fail"
The dark haired man, Varn, handed her the water again.
"Drink, your highness, and get ready. We continue our way soon"
They laughed, and Darin took another reluctant sip from the leather bottle.
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Gimli, son of Gloin, of the house of Durin and a little drunk, had finally found a horse to steal.
After his cousin had suddenly vanished with the pint of beer, he had thought nothing of it else than 'typical' and had moved on to find another pint, but then he had spotted the beer near the entrance of the old tavern of Bree. She wouldnt have left it there voluntarily.
Gimli ran outside to see three horses on the path to the north-south road, hurrying away from the tavern. Two of the riders were dark and hooded, another rider hung in an odd shape on top of the horse and had a dark blue hem flying behind him, the same color of Darin's dress. Gimli was angry that some bloody muggers managed to steal his cousin under his watch, cursed, exed the pint in his hand and began the search for a horse.
Behind the tavern, however, were no horses, and there were also none behind the the next two houses. Then the watcher of Bree became suspicious of him and angered Gimli with his questions further, until he had to resign into the tavern and drink another beer.
Young dwarfs, contrary to popular belief, are way more easily angered than their fathers.
Then slight fright overcame him what the muggers would do to his cousin, and he heard people arrive outside the tavern, accompanied by horses. He went outside, saw how they tied the horses to a nearby empty barn and went in, and sneaked up on the animals.
Both horses were too big for him, and the barn was on one side open to the view of the street, so that a successful theft of one of the horses had to be done quickly. He climbed the barn, rolled onto the first horse, held onto its reins and freed it off its ropes. Then footsteps came near and distracted Gimli, loosing his grip for one moment.
The horse reared, Gimli bit his tongue to not scream, and the footsteps came closer, now mixed with interested voices.
The horse came down again, its hooves hitting the ground with a loud shutter. Gimli kicked the horse in hopes that it would start galloping.
It made a loud noise, then ran out of the barn, Gimli barely holding onto it and nearly falling off the side.
Three men had been on their way to them, now looking at the small dwarf on the big horse galloping to the north-south road, perplex and unable to move until Gimli had ridden off too far for them to catch up. He took a sharp turn away from the road to not be caught by the horse's owner and followed the fields behind the trees near the road, always cautious.
It was a miracle he was still clinging to the horse.