[Imladris]

Balin

Balin rubbed his cheek and nose vigorously, then gently touched it with his finger tip. There seemed to be an added crookedness that had not been there before. He could not believe that Lîs had swung a fist at him -- the leader of the entire expedition. It felt as if the iron force behind the punch was still driving itself into his cheek, and he was sure that healthy would at once appear soon. Flori and Ori were, naturally, trying to avoid a fight. Turning away from them, he glanced keenly at Lîs: her face was red, and she was muttering to herself. With grudging reluctance he decided it must have been an accident. He knew Lîs well enough to know that she wouldn’t purposely take a swing at him -- but she still should have recognized him.

He heard a sly chuckle behind him and he saw Ori and Flori pouring a parchment while a raven flittered between the two impatiently, as if he waited for a treat. But the smiles quickly faded and the brothers’ brows slowly drew together in a gnarled frown. “Come, come!” Balin said, with a small smile. “First you laugh, then you are all frowns. If anybody has a right to frown, it should be I,” he added somewhat ruefully. “Tell me, what are you reading?”

Ori’s eyes widened and darted towards his brother’s before he said, “Oh, ‘tis nothing. Just a letter from his highness King Dain, telling us that we should all get along,” he added with particular stress to the last word.

With a wry grin, Balin said, “Well, let us hope that there shan’t be another wrinkle among the dwarves. The forest of Mirkwood is but an hour away! Enough time has been wasted…we camp at the edge of the Forest at dusk.”

As they marched, the monotonous stamping occasionally used to keep the beat of a marching song, Balin immersed himself into memory. He could still feel the spider rope tied tightly about his chest, impeding his breathing, still see the spider’s leering faces, their hairy legs that skillfully spun and tied the knots that bound himself and their companions. They had been rescued -- a broad smile flittered to his craggy face -- by Bilbo Baggins. But they had only escaped one trap to be caught in another. The elves had found the dwarves and taken them captive. For a brief instant, a moment of doubt drifted over him, and he wondered if it would not be best to go ’round. No. He shook his head and continued with a firmer step towards the forest that clung like shadow to the nearing horizon.

The stars had just appeared when the dwarves arrived at the forest’s edge. Moss clung to the leaf barren trees, the silence hung around the forest like a heavy drapery. A large squirrel with a busy tail leaped from a tree branch and disappeared into the forest. The trees were silent and seemed to watch the visitors with grave displeasure as they flung their packs to the grounds. “Take only dead wood!” Balin called out as Loni and Narin as they nervously (but resolutely) went towards the forest to gather wood.