The Green Witch

Eskamë walked back into her cottage, letting the dwarves follow her inside if they wished. She hummed to herself softly, barely paying any attention to her visitors as they began to trickle through the door. Then suddenly, she looked up at the lot of them, making their way into her kitchen, as if she’d noticed them for the first time.

“Aiya!” she exclaimed in Elvish, scowling at the startled dwarves. “Take your shoes off in my house! This is no barn!”

The dwarves looked dumbfounded. They rarely took off any of their gear and armor- even for sleeping. They exchanged uneasy and pained looks before Gandalf nodded his head slightly in Thorin’s direction. Thorin’s jaw clenched again, and he could feel his blood boiling. Still, he remembered that they were here for information, and that it would all be worth it in the end. He began to remove his boots.

“Put them out on the porch by mine,” the witch said, back to all but ignoring them.

“Oi! You’ve left your shoes on!” Oin protested, pointing at the black boots that were still on her feet. She looked up at him slowly, a sly grin now on her face.

“Aye, but they are my boots in my house,” she said simply. “And yours are filthy anyway. My dog has better manners,” and she turned to Bartlebee, who gazed up at her with affection.

“You mean that horse,” one dwarf said under his breath. A few others snickered as they exited the kitchen to place their boots on the front porch. Eskamë smiled and pulled something out of a pouch on her hip that resembled an old, shriveled steak. She held it out for the dog, who took it graciously.

Now shoeless and a bit uncomfortable, the dwarves gathered in the front parlor, not quite sure of where to go next. Eskamë walked in and pulled a chain that hung down slightly from the ceiling. It opened a small overhead door that revealed a short ladder that led up to the attic. She disappeared up the steps and came back down in a moment, her arms full of blankets and rags.

“ ‘Fraid I don’t do a lot of entertaining nowadays, so I don’t have much food to offer you. Still, I had a hunch I’d be having some visitors, so I’ve a couple hams roasting out back,” she said and started handing a blanket and a rag to each of the men. “You gentlemen feel free to clean yourselves up by the riverbank while I tend to supper. The water runs clear today so it’s quite safe for washing,” she commented, which did nothing but stir up the dwarves’ morbid curiosity.

She then walked back into her kitchen, leaving the company to stand and quietly debate on what to do next. Before they could look to Thorin to see if he planned on going along with her wishes, she popped her head through the doorway.

“That was less of a suggestion and more of a request.”

***

Begrudgingly, the dwarves made their way down to the edge of the river as Eskamë had suggested, and began to clean themselves up a bit. At first they were very unwilling and annoyed. But as the time went on and they started to swim and float around in the river, they began to relax. Even Dwalin, who had a hotter head than Thorin, was quiet and at peace as he scrubbed his face, leaving it a whole shade whiter than how it started.

“What do you think she meant about the water being ‘safe?’” Kili asked his brother who was sitting on a rock, scrubbing his socks in the water. His hair and bead still dripped steadily from his time in the water, but he’d left his tunic in the grass, so the water ran down his bare chest and back.

“Haven’t a clue. Probably just her nonsense witchcraft or what have you,” he said. While he led on that he was uninterested in discussing any bit about the woman, in truth, he hadn’t been about to get his mind off of her. What did she mean? What happens when the water doesn’t run clear?

Kili, who had been floating along on his back, sat up in the water and looked around. While he knew none of his kin was particularly happy about their plans for the evening, you wouldn’t have guessed it by looking at them now. Here were a dozen dwarves practically frolicking in the water, for lack of a better term. It was an uncanny sight. While they were weary from travel and unfamiliarity and confusion, they were now content and downright beaming. The time in the river had left them all clean and refreshed on the outside, but something twinkled behind their eyes. Something Kili hadn’t seen since the night they all reunited in Bilbo’s home.

“Witchcraft…” he muttered, now looking at his brother, who looked deep in thought. “Fili,” he started, “You don’t think she’s done something to this water, do you?”

At this, Fili looked up from his socks. He glanced at the rest of the dwarves and noticed just what Kili had. He couldn’t deny that there was something rather funny about them all wading about, and it wasn’t just the naturally funny sight of wet dwarves. Part of Fili wanted to agree with his younger brother, but part of him was still very cynical about this whole “witch” business. He scoffed.

“Don’t be foolish.”