CHAPTER 4 | WIZARDS

THE Company had found camp for the night near the edge of a cliff after a day of riding. Ygritte was thankful, as she hadn't gotten much sleep when she had been curled up on Bilbo's living room floor. Once they had tied up the ponies, gathered wood to start a fire, and eaten the food cooked by Bofur, they all went their separate ways for sleep before dawn would arrive.

Ygritte laid curled on her blanket, her cloak wrapped around her body as she used her arm for a pillow. Her father, Gandalf, sat next to her sleeping form, a pipe in his mouth, puffs of smoke occasionally filling the air around him.

If was when an ear-screeching scream ripped through the night air that Ygritte woke from her much needed slumber. Her hand instantly darted to the blade in her boot, but when her father placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, she calmed her nerves and let out a breath.

"What was that?" Bilbo asked in concern.

"Orcs," said Kili, just as another scream ripped through the air.

Thorin, who was dozing, jerked awake upon hearing the word Orcs, now alert with possible danger.

"Orcs?" Bilbo echoed.

"Throat­cutters. There'll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them," Fili said.

Ygritte rolled her eyes and laid back down, curling her cloak back around her body. She laid awake for a few moments, the adrenaline from panic still present in her veins. As she waited for sleep to pull her back in, she listened to the brother dwarves strike fear in Bilbo.

"They strike in the wee small hours," said Kili, "when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet; no screams, just lots of blood."

When she heard their small laughter, she wanted to tell them to lay off and stop teasing the hobbit, who was clearing frightened still of the journey ahead, but her exhaustion wasn't allowing her mouth to form any words. She knew she would be back asleep soon enough.

"You think that's funny? You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?" With her eyes closed, she could tell it was Thorin whom was now speaking. His voice was very recognisable amoungst the Company. It was almost deeper than the others.

"We didn't mean anything by it," Kili said.

"No, you didn't. You know nothing of the world." Ygritte could hear someone walk after Thorin spoke.

"Don't mind him, laddie," said Balin to Bilbo. "Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs. After the dragon ─ " Balin cut himself off as he glanced over at Aninth and her dragon companion across the fire. He quickly corrected himself. "After Smuag took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had got there first."

"My mother told me this story," Aninth realized, "she was there along with my aunt and uncle. When the army got there it had already been taken by legions of Orcs."

Now interested to hear everything about the historical moments of the Lonely Mountain, Ygritte opened her tired eyes and stared over at Balin and Bilbo, even glancing briefly ar Aninth and her dragon through the flames of the fire.

"Aye," Balin agreed, nodding. "There were three Dragonkin there that day. The Orcs were led by the most vile of all their race, Azog. The Defiler. The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin."

Ygritte knew the line of Durin was Thorin's blood, as it was Kili and Fili's.

"He began...by beheading the King. Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us."

Ygritte listened intently, like a child during a bedtime story. Her father told her little of the history of the Lonely Mountain, so some of the information being said was all new for her ears.

"That is when I saw him," Balin said, glancing over at Thorin. "A young dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe, his armor rent...wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog, the Defiler, learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken. Our forces rallied and drove the orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated. But there was no feast, no song, that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived. And I thought to myself then, there is one who I could follow. There is one I could call King."

By now, everyone had gathered around just to hear the history of their kin. They were all staring at Thorin in awe, as said leader of the Company turned away from the view beyond the cliff. Thorin walked between them toward the fire.

"But the pale orc? What happened to him?" Bilbo asked.

"He slunk back into the hole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago."

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Morning seemed to have arrived far too soon for Ygritte. She was forced to stretch her limbs and eat a quick breakfast before they jumped onto their horses and ponies, continuing their long journey ahead of them.

Later in the day, it had begun to rain. Their horses stomped through the muddy forest as rained poured heavily down on them. Ygritte's cloak was pulled over her head, even though it would do absolutely nothing to keep her dry.

Her blonde hair, even though braided down her back, was soaking wet. Droplets that seeped to the ends of her locks dripped down her back, making her shiver every now and again. It wasn't because she was cold that she was shivering, it was because of the sudden trickle of a droplet of rain slowly trickling down her spine that made her shiver. She even leaned her body forward as to allow the droplet to drip down her spine faster. If another dropped, she had half a mind to rip her braid out from underneath her cloak and let it fall over her shoulder instead, as to not annoy her any more.

Her clothes stuck to her body as well; her gray coloured cloak looked black wet, and her trousers and shirt clung to her body. She would, no doubt, have to peel them off her body later once they found camp and set them by the fire to dry whilst changing into the fresh pair of clothing she had packed in her bag.

She road near her father, her wet hands holding the reins of her white horse named Evie. Evie had been her mothers horse and one of her favorite companions. She took the horse almost everywhere she would go, unless the adventure she was going didn't need Evie along the trip. Plus, Evie needed a break every now and than.

"Here, Mr. Gandalf, can't you do something about this deluge?" Dori said. His voice was loud, nearing a shout, so that say he could be heard by the Company's eldest wizard through the heavy rain pouring down on them.

"It is raining, Master Dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard," Gandalf told him.

"Don't bother asking me either," Ygritte said before Dori could even open his mouth to ask her the same question.

"Are there any?" Bilbo asked.

"What?" Gandalf asked.

"Other wizards?"

"There are six of us," Gandalf explained, "apart from my daughter."

Ygritte glanced over at the soaking wet hobbit. "I'm half human," she informed him.

"The greatest of our order is Saruman, the White. Then there are the two Blue Wizards; you know, I've quite forgotten their names."

"And Mia," Ygritte reminded her father.

Gandalf nodded, unable to believe he forget young Miasera. "Ah, yes, and my apprentice, Miasera the Red. She and Ygritte have grown quite close over the years."

"Where's she? Why isn't she with us as well?" Aninth asked.

"She's doing some training and studying, as a young Wizard, she still has much to learn," Gandalf said in response.

"And who is the sixth?" Bilbo asked.

"Well, that would be Radagast, the Brown." Ygritte smiled at the thought of Radagast; she liked the strange, yet kind, wizard.

"Is he a great wizard or is he...more like you?"

Ygritte glanced over at her father, and when she spotted his slightly offended expression, she couldn't help but chuckle.

"I think he's a very great wizard, in his own way. He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to the East, and a good thing too, for always Evil will look to find a foothold in this world."