The Green Witch

Fili stepped onto the front porch and saw Eskamë saddling her horse. It was the lone golden and black one he’d seen when they first arrived. Beside her, a pony was saddled and ready.

The blonde dwarf felt eyes upon him and glanced over his shoulder to the windowpane that revealed a bit of the front room, and a bit of his uncle. His eyes were stern and Fili swallowed, feeling his stomach lurch. He straightened up and looked forward once more, all the while replaying the all too recent memory in his head.

Fili stealthily closed the front door behind him, glad to hear the steady snoring of the dwarves- it meant none of them had awoken.

Well, almost none of them.

“Fili, where have you been?” he heard a voice, that of his uncle, to his left, where the kitchen lay. He jumped, not at all prepared to speak to anyone, let alone Thorin. He hesitated, the right words not coming to him. His first notion was to lie, but his conscious told him Thorin would suspect it. Still, when his mind went to telling the truth, he knew that wouldn’t be at all helpful at the present time.

As if reading his mind, Thorin spoke again before the young dwarf could answer.

“It would do you no good to lie to me,” he said. His arms were folded in front of his chest and he looked down at Fili, just like he had so many times when he and Kili were children in need of scolding. Fili thought it best to lower his eyes and say nothing at all (he didn’t want to give too much away in case Thorin hadn’t seen everything).

“I do not want you alone with her anymore. Is that understood?” he asked, and Fili opened his mouth to reply but was cut off. “She is not to be trusted.”

Fili frowned. Apart from his growing feelings for the witch and his obvious bias, it seemed unfair for his uncle to make such a statement.

“Uncle Thorin, how can you say that so surely? Has she not fed us and housed us, and even given us vital information?” he defended.

“Yes, Fili, she has,” he began. “And she has done all of which with seemingly no intention,” and Fili frowned at this, ready to come to Eskamë’s defense once more. Thorin put his hand up, speaking again. “But I will remind you that she is a witch, something we know very little of. Her motives trouble me.”

“But what motives? You said yourself that she hasn’t any intent!” Fili’s voice raised, and movement was heard behind them where the dwarves slept, causing them to continue speaking in whisper.

“You are not to spend any more time alone with her, do you understand?” he asked his nephew. When Fili did not reply, Thorin put a hand on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t want this matter to get in the way of your allegiance and your ability to continue on this quest.”

Fili’s eyes grew wide. Is that what his uncle was afraid of? Was it even worth implying? Of course he was loyal to Thorin and any of the dwarves in the company.

“I am always loyal to you, uncle,” he said quietly. Thorin smiled at him.

“Good. Now get some rest,” he said and left Fili standing alone in the doorway. His mind raced: half because of the beautiful woman he’d just kissed, and half because his uncle had practically threatened to leave him behind.

The young dwarf tried to put the memory out of his mind. He’d seen the look on Thorin’s face when Eskamë had requested he come with her. He wanted now, more than anything, to stay behind and prove he had no intentions of betraying anyone. When she’d told him to accompany her, he’d looked around desperately for someone to volunteer to go in his place, but no one seemed to pay him any mind. No one, that is, except Thorin. His dark eyes glared at the witch, and when they settled on Fili, he gave him a stern look and nodded discreetly. Fili knew exactly what he meant.

Do not betray my trust.

Fili tried to shake off his worry. After all, what could happen? All he had to do was ignore her, show no interest. Though, once his eyes settled on her slender frame and her beautiful face when she turned to smile at him, he realized just how hard this short trip might be.

“These ponies are quite wonderful. Really a very good-looking breed. Where did you happen upon them again?” she questioned.

“From a man they call Beorn, south of here,” he replied, rubbing the neck of his horse. Eskamë stopped what she was doing and turned to look at him.

“Not Beorn the skinchanger?” she said in disbelief. Fili looked at her.

“You know of him?”

“Why yes, I know of him. He’s been a friend of mine for many, many years,” she continued. “But he hates dwarves!” and at this Fili chuckled.

“Indeed. But he is not too fond of orcs either,” and she looked at him as he smiled, still petting the pony.

“Well,” she started once her horse was ready, “we’d best be off. It’ll be a short trip, but, still, the quicker the better if the company is to reach the pass by nightfall.”

“Pass?” Fili questioned.

“Yes, there is a narrow pass that lies east of Mount Gunduband. It is the safest way through the mountains to Ered Mithrin,” she said, mounting her horse. Fili did the same.

Soon, they were off. They traveled at a decent speed, though nothing that would tire the horses before the real journey began. They rode straight north, towards the nearest foothill where Eskamë thought the best place to gather herbs was. It was a shorter mountain, and far grassier than the tall, precarious looking mountains that lay beyond it.

For a time they rode in silence. This was not something the witch had expected. True, she did not know what to say either, let alone how to bring up their encounter just the night before. But she could sense that the silence was not without reason; there was a fog of confusion and discomfort that had settled in the air between them, and it frustrated her. Every time she spoke, she felt it grow thicker and thicker.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked, once again trying to make small talk.

“Yes,” he answered simply, keeping his eyes forward and offering no other thoughts. Eskamë gave up.

“Have I done something to offend you?” she questioned sharply. This did, in fact, cause him to look at her. He didn’t anticipate having to explain himself.

“What? N-no. Of course not,” he said with as much confidence as he could muster. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he knew he’d not even begun to convince her.

“It’s just that… well,” he tried to make up a reason that didn’t involve telling her his uncle had all but forbade him to look at her. “I was just, ya know, doing some uh… well, some thinking.”

“Well clearly,” she said with a small laugh. “I’m more interested in what you’re thinking about.”

“Right… right,” Fili said and cleared his throat. Why was this so hard?!

He knew why, of course. It was because merely hours ago he would have been delighted to be alone, at her side, as he was now. He was finding it overwhelmingly hard to keep his promise to his uncle, whatever “promise” that was.

“I was thinking about last night,” he said, giving up as little information as he could.

“Ah,” she nodded, “I thought as much.”

The witch could feel and start to decipher the emotions that swirled around the handsome dwarf. There was discomfort, of course, but there was also something else: regret. She frowned, but turned away. She did not want to reveal the pain that this caused her.

“You regret it then?” she asked. Straightening up her face, she turned towards him. “You regret the kiss?”

“No! Well, I mean… no, of course not,” Fili stammered, not sure of how to answer her. “It’s not that I regret it or anything. It’s just that… that maybe it was, possibly, a bit of a… mistake,” he said, the last word tasting bad on his tongue. He instantly knew he’d chosen the wrong thing to say.

Eskamë straightened her posture and looked out in front of her, her lips forming an almost straight line. Fili at once saw her demeanor change entirely. She was no longer the happy, vulnerable woman she’d been when they’d departed. Instead she was back to the way he’d first seen her: closed off, with an elf-like stature, and an ethereal presence that made her appear both mysterious and wise. Silently, he already missed her genuine smiles.

“I see,” she began. “So, master dwarf, you do not regret kissing me but you believe it was a mistake,” she said, mocking him slightly. Fili bit his tongue. He wanted to blame his uncle, tell her he’d been joking- say absolutely anything he could to take back the damage he’d caused. But he knew he had to keep the charade up. It was his best option; his only option.

“It’s just foolish, you know?” he said, trying to adopt a lighter tone. “Of both of us, I mean.”

“Right,” she said, humoring him. She held her tongue and did not say what she really thought. “It was foolish. What, with you on your quest.”

“Exactly!” he exclaimed, not feeling overly positive that she really did understand, but deciding it was best to follow along and end this horrible conversation. “I just need to focus on the quest right now. I did not come on this journey looking for love, you know,” and, once more, he knew all too quickly that he’d chosen the wrong words. He was never as good at small talk as his brother, Kili. He silently cursed him for getting all of the charisma in the family.

“Love?!” she said, half laughing. “Who said anything about love?” She was starting to become more annoyed than she had the ability to cover up.

“Well- no- I just- I… You know what I mean,” he said, admitting defeat and shutting his mouth for once.

“I do, Fili,” she said softly, letting herself feel a flicker of pity for the dwarf. Communication was clearly not his strong suit. “You want to keep your priorities on the task at hand,” she offered kindly.

“Yes. Yes, you have put it into words,” and at this they both snickered a bit. “I cannot let my uncle down,” Fili added, more seriously. “He is like a father to me.”

“Did you not know your father?” Eskamë asked, truly thankful for a change in conversation.

“For a time I did, but he passed when I was very young. The memories get cloudier every year,” he said, dipping his head low. It was again that the witch felt sorry for him.

“I’ve often wondered what it was like to have a family. To have relatives. It must truly mean something to those who have them,” she offered.

“Yes, it does. I don’t know what I’d do without my uncle. And Kili. And of course my mum.”

“Does she still live?” she asked, almost regretting it, as she didn’t want to cause him more sadness. Her spirits lifted when she saw him smile.

“Oh yes. And she’s the prettiest dwarf maiden in all middle earth- I won’t stand to hear it any other way,” he said and chuckled. Eskamë looked at him fondly. She had all but forgotten that merely moments ago she’d been upset with him.

“She doesn’t look like an ordinary dwarf woman,” he began again. “Beards don’t run heavily on her side of the family, so she’s never grown one.” When Eskamë looked slightly puzzled, he added, “Which is very odd for any dwarf. Thorin, her brother, you understand, never had much of a beard either. And, well, you’ve seen poor Kili,” he said, and they both laughed. Fili reminded himself to stop making Eskamë laugh, and that, somehow, it would not be what his uncle wanted, but when he saw her smile again, the thought was all but forgotten.

“So, judging by Thorin’s dark hair, do you get your yellow hair from your father then?” Eskamë asked, wanting to hear more about his family.

“No, no. I get that from my mum. Her mother had lighter hair, you see. But my mum’s,” he started, but took a breath, caught up in a memory of his mother and his home, which he did miss dearly. “Mum’s has always been long, and golden, and beautiful.” He looked over at the witch and grinned. “Not like this straw-like mess,” he said, grasping a lock of his own hair. Eskamë smiled and laughed again.

“Ah, but you must be very fond of your “straw-like mess.” You do, after all, have a fantastic beard,” she toyed, grinning at him playfully. He smirked.

“Oh yes, I’m very proud of the beard,” he joked, stroking his braided mustache. “It does make Kili very jealous…”

Eskamë heard him continuing on, but no longer registered his words. Suddenly she felt a shift in the emotions that surrounded the two of them. Something drastically different began to flood through her. Something that felt both like hatred and fury…

“Numen!” she shouted, commanding the horses to turn West abruptly. Two arrows flew behind them, perfectly aimed for where they had just been a second before.

Whether something she had said or done caused them to speed up, or they were just startled, Fili did not know, but his pony began galloping westward, trying to match the speed of Eskamë’s stallion. The change in speed and direction startled Fili and he lost grip of his reigns.

Eskamë heard a short yell and a thump and looked behind her. Fili lay, unmoving, on the ground, the distance between the two of them growing.