By the Light of the Fire

“You, child of abomination will not see the end of your precious forest; I will see to it that your company is the undoing of you!” Those sickening words rang through in her head, over and over again, calling her profanities of all kinds. Who did it belong to? Instinct only told her what she didn't want to know. Almasenor… “There are no happy endings for a hobbit!”

Did she mean Bilbo?

Did she intend to kill him?

She was swimming in darkness, a deep pool of black, endless space, frightening and relentless. Almasenor’s words boomed through the blackness and into Ainsel's soul.

“Keep her steady Laddy! She’s in a terrible state, we don’t want her choking on anything unpleasant in her sleep!” Balin took a hold of Ainsel's arms whilst Bilbo grabbed her feet, trying to steady her; she was thrashing violently on the floor, unconscious and screaming.

“This is useless! Try talking to her!” Fili shouted.

“Ainsel…. Ainsel can you hear me, it’s Kili.” Fili's brother noted his suggestion and took action immediately. She continued. He tried his boyish charm by stroking her hair and cooing lightly to her.

“Shh, it’s going to be okay...” She began thrashing more violently now. Bilbo and Balin let go of her limbs.

“What a charmer you are…” Fili threw at his brother sarcastically. “look at her, she’s worse than ever now!”

“Shut up” Kili grunted. “Bilbo you give it a try” Kili wiggled his eyebrows at the Hobbit, but he didn't pick up on that reference…

“Me? Why?! She hates me!” Poor Bilbo protested defenselessly, slightly scared that she would wake up and rip his nose off… That’s when she screamed his name…

Bilbo’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson as he attempted to get close to her flailing body, his hands wrapped around her left wrist. “This is useless” he whimpered, “She doesn't listen to me, she would rather imagine me impaled on a bloody spike!” His eyes looked pleadingly at the others who were fixed with expressions ranging from smug to worry as the Dwarves crowded around slowly, staring at her reaction.

“Dear Bilbo, you’ll never understand women because you’re scared of them.” Even Gandalf was joining in on the taunting. “She doesn't hate you, she just thinks she does” And as always, his wise words, made no sense. “Words are powerful Bilbo, and voices need to be heard in the darkness. Even if it is hatred she feels, then she feels the strongest towards you. A familiarity is what she needs to calm her from Almasenor’s grip of terror”

“She does hate me, you've seen the way she ignores me, and the way she addresses me” He didn't notice, but her limbs were slowly relaxing to the sound of his voice. Her face less contorted in agony.

“But I guess you’re right, I don’t understand why hatred would rouse her.”

“Well yes my friend, but it’s you she’s calling for… His face nodded to her body, now calming, and her breathing more regulated. Bilbo the old wizard’s gaze.

“Oh…” His voice stopped and she began shaking again. “Ainsel?” He asked. There was no reply; his she stopped her shaking. “Ainsel, can you hear me?” He put his small hands on her round face, soothing her cheek with his thumb. She began to murmer. “Shhhh” he responded every time she exerted noise. “Just please don’t kill me when you wake up…” he could have sworn there was a small but wry smile on her face.

The rest of the day passed by slowly, the Dwarves carried on with their merry songs, they even made one up about Ainsel waking up and hunting Bilbo, much to his bemusement.

She didn't wake for a long time. Her Pony carried her safely, Thandriel was very loyal and safeguarded her from harm, if he heard a noise beyond the footsteps and hums of laughter he would stop with the other Ponies, and raise his head, turn his back to a tree, so she was protected from the back, the front and both sides by fellow Ponies. Everyone admired this little Ponies protection of its dearest friend.

“I wonder why she stays in the woods…” Ori struck up the conversation.

“Who cares why she stays? I care more about getting her out of 'ere!” Bofur joined in.

“I think we can all agree on that Laddie!” Balin nodded. “Maybe when a bunch of us return to take Bilbo safely back to the shire we can drop her off at Rivendell”

“Or off at the shire with Bilbo” Bofur jested.

“Well there’s plenty of room…” Gloin laughed.

“I don’t even think he’s paying attention anymore…” Bofur motioned his head to suggest the others look at Bilbo. And sure enough, he wasn't listening, his attention was consumed entirely.

“Is he going to be distracted by her face this entire journey?” Ori giggled.

Finally, Ainsel's eyelids began to open. Her eye sockets were surrounded with a purple mist, her skin even whiter than before, her emerald coloured dress sticking to her body. She looked like death itself.

“Hnnnngg” she groaned into the evening air.

Her head screamed in protest to the light, pounding and sore was the spot on the back of her head where Gandalf's staff struck.

“Ainsel!” Bilbo’s voice was perhaps a little too loud, she winced, her brows furrowed into a crease. “Sorry” he whispered softly. With her eyes now fully open she began to take in the scene around her, drawing back from cradling her Ponies neck. She patted Thandriel lightly.

“Thank you” she whispered to her friend, the Pony’s ears flopped wistfully and he nodded his long, lean neck as acknowledgement. Peering out the corner of her eye she watched the Hobbit on his Pony Myrtle, riding next to her.

“Why are you watching me?” She asked, a little more harshly than initially intended.

“Just checking to see if you’re okay. You don’t look it.” He bravely added that last part, deciding on if she would take it as a feminine insult.

“Hmm. Thank you.” Ainsel replied. Bilbo couldn't help but beam at her, happy to receive a courteous reply. “For saving my life...” she added. His beaming smile was shot down, as he realised her tone wasn't so sincere. More like she owed him a debt she didn't want.

“It wasn't... It’s fine. Don’t worry about it; you don’t owe me anything if that’s why you’re so solemn.” She went from frowning to mimicking the expression of a Deer in the path of a troll, innocent and wide eyed, too startled to move.

“I... I sincerely meant thank you.” She almost spat it out at him. “You saved my life, after everything I've said to you, after how I treated you. Do you realise how conflicted I am? I've spent my life hating Hobbits, thinking they were bad, and now you risked your life to save mine after I was cruel? How do you think that makes me feel about myself, and about you? I owe you more than you will ever realise, despite how much I took my life for granted!” Tears began to form in her eyes, the whites of her eyeballs now turning a pale pink. “I should hate your kind, I have every right to, and a Hobbit killed my mother in cold blood and then chased after me!”

Everyone gasped, shocked at what they heard. A Peaceful Halfling had murdered an Elf and chased a young child through the woods? That didn't sound right... At least not to their Logic. Nobody questioned it though. She started to sob. Like the innocent child that fled the woods that day, she cried, hugging tightly to her Ponies neck.

“Ainsel, I’m sorry.” His words always seemed to tear her emotions, it was like walking on eggshells, her hardened demeanor now shattered, revealing a scared Half Elf clutching to the only family she had left. He lead across from his Pony who had now come to a halt, he placed a hand on her shoulder and whispered again, “I’m sorry”

“What for? You didn't kill her. I’m just selfish, selfish, cruel and weak.”

“You’re not weak Lass, not at all! Why, you put young Fili here to shame wielding a sword!” Gloin offered her some words of comfort. They registered a little.

“Yes, and it’s nice to see you smile!” Kili shouted from the back of the group. Ainsel giggled a little, still sobbing.

“I’m not bad with a blade!” Fili protested.

“Never said you were, you dimwit, I just said she was better!” Gloin threw an apple at Fili's head and it struck with immaculate precision on his temple, which earned him a grunt of disapproval.

“Ere, we will take you beyond the borders of these fowl woods, you can escape the treachery of the trees and finally be safe Ainsel. We will do that for you, you’re keen senses have been most helpful to us.” Thorin had pulled up beside Ainsel's pony and offered very powerful words to stop her crying. To be free of these woods? It sounded pleasing... but she had never found answers, never had closure or a reason to leave this place. Could she just... escape after such a long time? “I understand it might be strange for you at first, but if we can tempt Bilbo away from the comfort of his armchair and his comforts, then I’m sure the lure of safety will temp you too. Promise me, when we reach the end of these woods that fowl Witch will not deceive you again? I do not care for her reason in hunting for you, but if we catch her, we will kill her, rest assured.”

Thorin. The coldest Dwarf in the bunch was offering her such comfort and such kind words, Ainsel could no longer refuse their hospitality, nor could she refuse that feeling of safety. She nodded.

“Thorin Oakenshield, I accept your gracious offer. Thank you!” She cried. But not with tears; with joy.

“My Dear Ainsel, the answers you seek are within these woods, and I believe you will find them in time. You do not need a group of Dwarves telling you that you will be safer in a town of people to protect you, which you know! Nor do you need to surround yourself with these woods to find such answers, just surround yourself with the right people and it will come to you...” A benevolent smile crossed his lips and his eyes creased, offering a wonderfully kind expression.

Ainsel was soothed back into calmness. Smiling at her companions, she thanked each one individually. They carried on their journey that evening in higher spirits; singing, dancing around the campfire, and drinking the ale before finding fruits to make wine from.

Through a mystic mirror she stared at them all, their spirits not broken, Ainsel's body not bruised, beaten and lying cold on the earth as she had intended. All of them had now provoked her wrath, but killing the Half elf would be enough to wound them. It was like the tale of sad little Fosco all over again. She threw the mirror on the floor and threw her head back, screeching in anger into the night.
“I will see her wings burn!” Almasenor began to laugh sadistically, macabre flashes of power oozing from her withering body as she assumed the image of Enwe; Ainsel's mother…