The Green Witch

When the morning arrived, the cottage was quiet and deceptively so, as not all who were within its walls slept. To be sure, there was one witch and one blonde dwarf who had hardly shut their eyes.

Eskamë rose first, not wanting to waste any more time. For the sky lit up clear this morning, and she knew what she must help the dwarves do next. She washed up discreetly and changed to fresh robes. She was unfolding an older tunic that lay near the bottom of her chest of clothes when she stopped to admire it. It was blue, but with an old weathered look that made it seem gray as well. Naturally, she was drawn more to greens and golds; always the forest dictated her choices, even in the most unexpected ways. For some reason, however, the blue color caught her eye on this morning. She smiled as her fingers traced the stitching on the fabric. The blue was familiar to her, and she knew exactly why.

She’d thought of little else in her few hours of restless sleep. Fili had entranced her somehow, in a way that was completely unfamiliar to her. She’d never allowed herself to bond with any being in a way that exceeded friendship. Her mind never wandered there, it never felt tempted. She was always caught up in the ways of the world and of nature and her essence to be troubled with things like love.

But Fili had kissed her. And she kissed him. Even now, the memory left her breathless.

It was an unlikely pair- a witch and a dwarf. But, then again, so was their meeting in the first place. Still, she knew it was a fool’s game to be playing. She knew it could go nowhere and was, at best, a fleeting release of emotion in the midst of some very confusing turmoil. Eskamë knew she had felt drawn to him, even the first time she laid eyes on him. Consciously, she attributed it to his bold charm and handsome physique. Subconsciously, however, she knew it ran deeper than that. She wanted to open him up, hear is thoughts, know his heart and what troubled it. But, in all her discoveries, she too left herself vulnerable. He had seized the opportunity to turn the tables on her, amazingly, without her even noticing. The kiss surprised her and even worried her for a moment. But after the initial shock she realized it was a great desire of hers all along. To be Fili’s, to kiss him and caress him, to feel for him. Even-

She shook her head. If she started throwing the word “love” around after only one strange day, she would never forgive herself. Still, the idea didn’t leave her brain entirely.

Eskamë put on the blue tunic and went into her kitchen to prepare a breakfast for her guests. As she mentioned the evening before, she hadn’t any eggs, but she had all the right ingredients to make a large batch of biscuits, and plenty of butter and milk, so she lit the fire and started cooking quietly, waiting for the dwarves to stir. She was nearly finished with her first batch when she heard motion in the front room. Soon after, Gandalf entered her kitchen with a smile.

“Good moring, Mithrandir,” she said softly, greeting him as she rolled dough out in front of her.

“Morning,” he said, with a nod. He took a seat on a stool near the window and pulled out his pipe.

“The skies are clear today; the rain made its way south,” she said as she worked. She implied something with her tone of voice.

Gandalf took a puff on his pipe, not letting it show if he knew what she spoke of or not. When she looked over at him, he have a short nod. Just then they were interrupted.

“Do I smell breakfast, miss?” Bofur asked, now standing in the doorway. Eskamë grinned at him.

“Why yes, master dwarf. And you’re just in time to set the table,” she said, motioning to the cabinets where dishes were kept. Bofur nodded and eagerly went to help, a couple of dwarves filing in behind him. They each grabbed plates, jugs, knives, forks, and anything else they could carry in their short but broad arms.

Eskamë flitted around her kitchen and pulled out a large copper pot.

“This should be big enough for grits,” she said to herself. “And now to just get the bacon.”

“Bacon?” Gandalf said, eyeing her quizzically. “A little much for a witch who’s in short supply is it not?” he questioned her.

“It’ll be spoiled by the time we get back,” she said simply, and there passed a moment when Gandalf did, indeed, understand her, and the moment passed in silence.

***

The breakfast was large, perhaps larger than the dinner the night before. There was a good deal of bacon that made the dwarves instantly happy (it had been a good number of nights since they had been able to eat fresh bacon). There was also a large pot of grits that even Bilbo remarked was “seasoned perfectly!” There were more than enough biscuits, even for a group of hungry dwarves. And to go along with them, a various assortment of jellies, marmalades, and jams that were all but demolished. Plus, there was nearly a bushel of golden apples, a couple of partial wheels of cheese, and plenty of fresh milk to go around.

“Now that was a feast,” Dwalin announced once the table had been reduced to scraps. There were nods and words of agreement.

“Indeed, that was quite a feast,” Thorin agreed. “But I must ask, why did you cook us such a feast? Surely that exhausted much of your supplies?” he asked the witch.

“Ah, of course nothing could get by you, Lord Thorin,” she remarked, smiling in his direction. “And you are right- it was not without reason,” she said, and stood up and began to gather plates. “We will be leaving shortly.”

“Leaving?” Bilbo asked, concerned. “But we’ve only just settled in.”

“You are adventurers, my young hobbit,” Eskamë replied, looking down at him. “You do not settle anywhere.”

“And where is it we will be leaving to?” Thorin asked. Eskamë continued to clear the table, now helped by Fili and Kili. She replied, unseen, from her kitchen.

“We will be journeying north, to the land of Ered Mithrin,” she said, and there were more than a few anxious glances between the dwarves at the table.

“You mean to take us to the dragons?” Balin asked, with knowledge of what lay in those lands. Eskamë appeared once more before them.

“I will take you to the outskirts of their lands, Balin. If all goes well we will not even see a dragon on our journey,” she said, sitting back down before them.

“And if all doesn’t go well?” Dwalin asked suspiciously.

“Well, then you will be able to have a practice run before you reach Erebor then, won’t you?” the witch asked him, causing him to shrink back down in his chair.

“But what is the reason, m’lady?” Balin questioned.

“A dragon’s hide is harder than any weapon you possess between the lot of you. The only thing that can pierce dragon scales is dragon fire itself,” she said simply.

“And?” Kili asked, now sitting back down next to his brother.

“And,” she continued, “we will be needing some dragon fire,” she said as if the solution was obvious.

“But how can one contain dragon fire?” Fili asked, confused but not at all mistrusting. He no longer harbored doubt about Eskamë’s knowledge and her intentions. Instead, he harbored many new feelings toward the witch, but those he tried to ignore for the time being. Though it was hard when she met his eyes from time to time and he felt alone and warm and vulnerable in her gaze.

This was one of those times.

Eskamë found his blue eyes, and though she only held them for a second, she savored the iciness and smiled.

“You cannot, master Fili. But there are ways to harness the power that it leaves behind.”

“Ash,” Gandalf said, nodding in his belated understanding of what the witch was up to.

“Yes, Mithrandir. What you dwarves need is black arrows. You may be familiar with them?” she asked, and Thorin’s eyes turned away, his mind taken back in memory. He nodded solemnly, as did Balin at his side.

“Black arrows are the only way in which you will be successful in this adventure to reclaim your mountain. Dragon fire ash is what turns it black, but, more importantly, it is what makes a black arrow forged so strongly and so perfectly. I will help you collect enough ash, and you will take it to Erebor, where you will fire it in the forges left by your people,” she said decisively. Thorin wasn’t entirely convinced.

“And how are we supposed to fire them before we kill the dragon?” he asked in disbelief.

“That,” Eskamë began, “Is your task, master Thorin. I have already given you far more information than you had when you set out on this quest to begin with. And by mere chance it is, that you came to me at all,” she spoke to him, but still he seemed unconvinced. “Tell me, what did you plan on doing once you reached the mountain?” she asked, and the room fell silent, as Thorin had no answer, and neither did any other being in the room.

“Then it is settled,” Gandalf spoke up, breaking the tension. “We will depart as soon as our provisions are ready.”

“I’m going near the foothills to gather supplies- herbs, medicines, and the like. You all are welcome to any of my stores, for nothing will be fresh upon my return. We should be able to leave before noon,” Eskamë said, grabbing a burlap bag that hung on a peg near her front door. She reached for a cloak when she looked back at the lot of dwarves.

“I would, however, like some accompaniment. It will make my trip shorter,” she said, fully knowing the tiny bit of truth in this statement. She had other motives, and they had nothing to do with her haste.
“Fili,” she started, “Grab your knives and I will saddle your pony,” and she walked out the door, not waiting for his reply.