“Two warg packs and a party of goblins, not to mention trolls far too close to the Great East Road.” Amera stated factually, drumming her fingers against the table. She set her jaw, treading carefully now. Thorin’s face betrayed nothing, remaining as somber as always. Sighing, she ran a hand through her thick hair and tried once more, choosing her words carefully as she leaned forward slightly. “Your company is rather skilled at calling attention to itself, Thorin Oakenshield, and not all such attention is given by friends.”
He was silent for a moment, unmoved, then shrugged. “Such cannot be helped.”
Thorin replied coldly, “Think you we are to blame for the goblins and trolls you speak of?”
“Well, before you and your company was assembled and began to travel, they were content to stay hidden in their caves and crags.”
His face darkened. “We cannot help what would wish to interrupt our quest.”
Amera shook her head, eyes briefly flashing. “Interrupt? Aye, no doubt much of what plagues the North would be content to see Durin’s Heir and his kin unable to continue on in their endeavor, but had you given any thought to what might happen to the rest of the North after you and your party had been on their way? What the foul folk would do once they traveled southward, left their barren hills behind?”
“It is not our concern.”
“Two of my kin are dead along the Great East Road,” Amera growled, her patience snapping, “Killed by warg riders hunting your party! Another lies buried in the Trollshaws, butchered by trolls that had never before wandered so far south until you and your kin embarked upon your endeavor!”
For a brief moment, Amera thought she could see regret in his bright, somber eyes, but it passed as quickly as it had appeared. “My condolences to you and your kin.”
“I’ve no use for your condolences.” She responded icily, working to temper back her anger. “And neither do the Dunedain. We need assurances that your party will not urge any more enemies from their shadowed crags into the light and south into our lands, Thorin.”
He set his jaw, “I cannot promise that.”
Amera ran a tongue over her lower lip, drawing in a small breath as her fingers trembled with repressed fury. “Had you truly given no thought as to what all you might awaken in your journey, master dwarf? Given no consideration to what might happen to the lands you leave behind, plagued with all that would hunt you?”
He leaned forward, voice dangerous in its calmness. “My duty is with Erebor, not with the Bree-lands.”
“But our’s is!” Amera snarled, standing up and gesturing furiously to nothing in particular. “Your folk are natural warriors, Thorin, the men of these lands are not! Give the Bree-folk a sword and they are more like to try and plow a field with it than put it to any true use! They cannot protect themselves; they know nothing of what lies outside their lands, all that you stirred and awakened!”
He stood now too, calloused hands planted firmly against the table as he shot her a withering look. “Such was never our intent.”
“I care nothing for what your intent was!” She glared back, pale features bright with anger. “Our numbers are too few already, Thorin, to perform all that is asked of us in our duty. It is no easy task, certainly without the additional chaos your company has caused, and however great our skill may be, we cannot protect the Shire & Bree-lands from what all you have awakened.” Amera shook her head, swallowing hard as she drew in a small breath. “Your quest affects more than just your kin, Thorin Oakenshield. Whether you would wish it or not, evil has taken notice and no longer rests, content to watch and wait.”
He met her gaze, his eyes stony in their determination. “I must do this, Dunadan.”
She set her jaw, confused by the torrent of emotions surging through her. Amera glanced downwards briefly, then sighed and nodded to him. “So be it, but know this, you have not gone unnoticed. And where you go, Thorin Oakenshield, evil will follow.”
