When Dwalin returned two hours later, my heart sank to see that Clara was no longer with him. On Thorin's orders, Dwalin had taken Clara to the dwarf encampment, fearing that she'd be discovered if left with me, for it was difficult to conceal a horse more than having to hide oneself. I knew that had Clara been by the tree where I had left her that morning, Bernd would have discovered her immediately.  

I wanted to get angry at Dwalin but I was more furious with Thorin, whom I now refused to speak to, even as he pretended to scout the area as I trudged along noisily through the brush. The last time I looked, Thorin was on the opposite side of the waterfall when Dwalin arrived. 

"How far is the camp from here?" I asked. 

"Not far," Dwalin replied. "Two hours on foot at the most, heading straight east, then make a sharp detour south of an abandoned tower before heading east again." 

I nodded. I knew the tower that Dwalin meant. It had been an old watchtower long ago that had fallen in disrepair when a storm leveled the identical tower next to it. The main road wasn't too far from the lone tower, I thought, which meant that the dwarf camp was, as Dwalin stated, not far. 

After leaving Thorin at the cave, I had gone to the larger cave where I had spent the night. I wanted to retrieve my sword and not be too dependent on Thorin should danger arise. My face was still burning from the humiliation that followed his kiss and I could not understand why he had done it. But I knew that as much as I could replay that moment again and again inside my head, it would not change anything. 

I had concealed most of my belongings in a hole Jürgen had dug in the ground, safe from view should Bernd and his men have found the cave earlier. Nothing seemed disturbed as I went through the space, though I wondered if it was still safe to stay there for a second night. Maybe Thorin was right, I thought. Maybe I did need to stay in the dwarf encampment from here on. 

Dwalin led me back to the cave where I had just retrieved my sword, making sure that it was as concealed as it could be, with no traces of horse tracks anywhere. He carried a sack containing some food with him and he set it on the ground along with the rest of the supplies he had retrieved from Clara's saddle bags. He had also brought another blanket, which he had rolled and placed over everything else. All of these he slipped into the carefully arranged pit in the ground, and covered it with carefully arranged branches and leaves. 

"Thorin tells me that you prefer to sleep here rather than at the camp," Dwalin said. "It is no longer safe to stay here." 

I shook my head. "I will be safe here, Dwalin. It is well hidden and no one will find me."

Dwalin's face clouded, as if he wanted to say more, but he didn't.

"Is my mother well?" I asked and Dwalin looked away, avoiding my eyes. "Please answer me honestly, Dwalin."

Dwalin paused, his eyes glancing momentarily towards something behind me and I knew then that Thorin was standing by the cave entrance.

"I will let Thorin tell you how your mother fares," Dwalin said as he left the cavern, but not before stopping to whisper something to Thorin. I watched Thorin's face grow dark, before Dwalin finally left and he turned to look at me.

"Come, Frigga," Thorin said. "I will take you to see your mother."

Just as Dwalin described, the way to the dwarf encampment was eastward. We walked past giant trees that concealed the sky, and streams that cut almost haphazardly through trails, till we reached the two watchtowers, one which was nothing but a pile of stones on the forest floor.

"Who would build watch towers in the middle of nowhere?" Thorin asked as he offered his hand towards me, helping me navigate a high step between two moss and weed-covered rocks that blocked our way. As I took his hand, I found myself having to look at his face, seeing the softness in his eyes once more.

Out of spite I did not wish to answer Thorin, but Dwalin cocked his head towards me, eager to listen to an answer. After all, I hadn't spoken the entire time we'd started our journey and the tension between Thorin and I was so thick, Dwalin could have cut through it with his axes.

"Master Lialam's grandfather built it," I replied, and both men turned to look at me, frowning. "When he first built the town, he wanted it fortified by from whatever lurked in the forest. He thought that goblins lived underneath, but people tell me that he simply was mad."

Thorin and Dwalin exchanged glances as I continued.

"So he built these two watchtowers. Why not just one when you can build two?" I chuckled. "There was supposed to be another built on the other side of the road, but a storm destroyed one of the first two towers here, killing one of his sons who had chosen to guard that night."

"Did they ever find any goblins?" Dwalin asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know. Sometimes people say goblins lurk in the forest just north of us, and also if you go deeper within. They prey on traveling caravans, like they did with the caravan my parents were on."

As I said this I turned away, realizing that I was referring to the last time Jerrel and Tadd were seen alive. None of them had wanted to take the Old Forest Road, but Lialam had reassured them that it was safe, that he himself had journeyed through it with no danger having befallen him.

"The Men-i-Naugrim is a dangerous road," Thorin said. "Goblins have been known to prey on unsuspecting travelers. But there is no other way from the west through the forest, unless you travel north around it - or south, which would take one too far."

"Right," I agreed, recognizing the words Thorin used which meant the Dwarf Road. "Goblins attacked the traveling party of Jerrel and Tadd, and Nyssa and Ivan - Jürgen's wife and son. They did not survive."

A loud shriek filled the air and we all looked up, startled, as a bird flew over us, rustling the leaves in the trees as it settled on a branch with its prey in its claws. I looked away, praying that we would talk no more about Men-i-Naugrim, though I knew from stories that dwarves, elves and men used it to transport goods between their kingdoms and towns till recently, when it was deemed much too dangerous.

A dip appeared on the path before us and Dwalin jumped down first, followed by Thorin. But something caught Dwalin's eye and he motioned for Thorin to come closer towards a rotted tree blocking the path as I started to make my way down the embankment by first sitting down on the ground, my feet danging.

But before I could leap down to the ground, Thorin returned to grasp me by the waist and hoisted me down. For a brief moment, our eyes met as Thorin continued to hold me, not yet letting me go, and I found myself holding my breath as I lost myself in the blue of his eyes.

"You will stay in the camp tonight, where it is safer," Thorin said.

"But-"

"Do not argue with me anymore, woman," he said in a low voice before turning away and joining Dwalin who had gone ahead. As I followed Thorin, I glanced at the tree trunk, growing cold as I saw the shaft of a blackened arrow emerging from its bark.

Thorin called my name once and I was running to catch up with them as fast as I could. Jürgen had brought home an arrow just like it when he returned from that last journey that claimed the lives of Jerrel and Tad, I thought. A goblin arrow.

By the time we arrived at the edge of the forest, it was mid-afternoon and I knew that Thorin was right about having me stay at the camp. There was no way I could make it back before nightfall, not after what we'd all seen at the embankment. Already the air had started to turn cool and a breeze blew in from the west, ruffling Thorin's hair as he stood in front of me.

The guards that Lialam had assigned to watch the dwarves were stationed just north of the camp. There were three of them, and they appeared bored as they sat beneath the shade of an outcropping of rocks along a high hill overlooking the plains.

Just seeing the camp so close made my body tremble with excitement and thinking that I was cold, Thorin removed his coat and draped it over my shoulders. The thought of seeing my mother was too much to even imagine and I leaned against the nearest tree, fearing that my knees would give way beneath me.

"Are you alright?" Thorin asked, an expression of worry crossing his face.

"I'm fine," I replied. "I just never thought I'd see my mother again. I still remember the songs she sang to me every night. I never forgot them."

"And that's how you retained the ancient language," Thorin mused, smiling faintly.

Dwalin suggested that he go ahead while Thorin and I waited till dwarves working from neighboring towns would begin coming home. They usually traveled in large groups, and thus it would be easier to conceal me, he said.

As I watched Dwalin leave, I wished that we all could have gone with him, but knew that he was right. I couldn't risk being discovered right now, not when the prospect of seeing my mother for the first time in years was almost a reality.

I shrugged off Thorin's coat and handed it back to him. I followed him as he walked back into the forest, finding a flat spot to sit on and lay his coat down on the ground.

"So that's how it's gotten so dirty," I smiled, taking the coat off the ground and handed it back to him, sitting down on the grass and not caring if I got my skirt dirty. I remembered that I still wore my trousers and as I hiked my skirts up, Thorin raised an eyebrow.

"Did you remember that from Erebor?" He asked.

"Remember what?"

"That our women dress like men when we travel," he said.

I shook my head. "I made the trousers so it would be much easier for me to ride horses and learn sword fighting with Jürgen," I said. "Let's just say that I've had a few mishaps in the past."

Thorin smiled and it was nice to hear him do so. It lit up his face, removing the weight of responsibility that seemed to have aged him overnight. I knew that Thorin was only two years older than me but already, Smaug's destruction of Erebor and its people had aged him considerably. As a prince, he would have had few responsibilities of ruling a people, as his grandfather, Thror, claimed that right.

"Do not be alarmed by what you will see in the camp," Thorin said. "Conditions are not the best, and I'm afraid that it might distress you. We are low on food and supplies that we need to get started on our journey again, and we might need to leave sooner than we planned."

"Don't worry about impressing me with camp conditions, Thorin," I said. "I just want to see my mother again."

"And you shall," Thorin replied.  “Food and supplies we can replenish, but time with your mother is something you cannot capture once it’s gone.  But no matter what you see or hear, we will not starve.”

We did not talk much after that. Instead, we sat and waited till we heard the sound of dwarves traveling along the road from the south, returning to the camp. With another group of dwarves coming home from the north, the three men from Greenbanü tasked with looking for me could do nothing but  watch from astride their horses.

The moment Thorin saw an opportunity, having seen that the guards' attention was on the group from the north, we ran towards a large group of dwarves traveling along the road. If the dwarves were surprised to see Thorin and a beardless dwarf-woman joining in the midst of them, they did not show it. Their faces remained grim and as we walked with them, I felt the sense of loss of home and loved ones that permeated through their very skins.

Most of them had come from the neighboring towns to the east, where there was more work for them in metalsmithing and stonemasonry. They looked tired, their clothes covered in dust and dirt, their eyes barely even noticing me as I felt myself pulled along the throng through the middle of the camp.

From that point on, they split up, heading to their respective tents. In front of a main tent, food was being prepared by dwarf-women who looked up as I walked past, their eyes narrowing as they seemed to have noted my lack of facial hair. I brought my hand to face, ashamed, but Thorin only muttered something about not falling behind.  

A dwarf with long black hair combed back behind his head met Thorin as he led me to a tent that was set next to the largest one in the camp, one that bore the crest of the House of Durin. He wore a burgundy coat over a heavily embroidered inner tunic that told me that he was a counselor, just like my father had been. Though his clothes bore the wear and tear of travel, he looked as regal as he would have appeared before Smaug came to Erebor. 

"This is Balin, son of Fundin," Thorin said as Balin bowed his head slightly towards me.  

"You must be Frigga, daughter of Migan and Lyssan. I recognized you because you have your mother's eyes, and your scar," he said as I brought my hand to cover the side of my face, grateful that the scar was closer to my ear and did not mar my face completely. "But don't be ashamed, child. There are many here with worst scars than that, scars that cannot be seen with the naked eye." 

I bent my head, even more ashamed for my vanity. I wondered what Thorin had told them about the dwarf woman living in the town of men, shaving the beard that would have marked her as a dwarf just to fit in and worse, not even knowing what she truly was. 

"How is she?" Thorin asked Balin, his forehead furrowing. 

Balin did not answer. Instead he turned to me and asked me to follow him, leading me into the tent where a woman lay on a bed made from hay over which layers of thick cloth had been laid over.  

Four dwarf-women surrounded her, but the moment Balin cleared his throat, they parted to allow me to walk through as Balin remained by the door for a few minutes. I realized then that all of them were crying. 

My knees gave way beneath me and I found myself kneeling on the floor as one by one, the dwarves left us alone. Through my tears, I looked at my mother as I grabbed her hand between mine and brought it to my lips.  

I did not need anyone to tell me how she was doing. For I saw it in her sunken eyes as she stared at me, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly, her fingers opening to caress my cheek as she struggled to smile. 

My mother was dying.