Raven: An Unexpected Adventure

Thirteen

Thorin

In Route to the Shire

Early November 2958

Thorin always prided his people for their loyalty. When Dwalin's message had arrived, Thorin had stormed out of his Small Council Meeting. He had of course intended to leave for the Shire alone. He shouldn't have been at all surprised, however, when the entire Company showed up. He had paused just long enough to send a message off to Dáin. In it, he begged with no uncertainty for his cousin to come and take charge of Erebor in his absence. Then, he had changed from his royal robes into his traveling tunic and coat. He had gathered the necessary rations and a bedroll and been out the door. Or well, tried to be out the door. He'd still been in the courtyard, arguing with a groom about mounts when the rest of the Company had arrived. It hadn't taken a genius to realize the mastermind behind the delay. Balin and Oín were the eldest of the Company, and good old Balin wasn't about to see them left behind.

As soon as his advisor had made an appearance, the groom's complaints had ended. Suddenly, there had been enough mounts for all of their party. It was a large party too, Thorin realized as they clattered out of the courtyard. The whole Company was there. Well, all eleven of them seeing as Dwalin and Fíli were already there. Then, additionally Glóin had his son, Gimli, along. His wife Lívói had also stubbornly refused to be left behind while her husband and son went.

"I can fight as well as any soldier." she had declared when Thorin fixed her with a dubious look. He had nodded and then fixed a glare on Bombur. Elsba sat atop a large pony at her One's side. Bombur sat tall and proud in his saddle, silently supporting her decision. Beside her, two young boys shared a pony. Their eldest son, Baldur, could be no more than thirty. His younger brother had been a babe when they left on their Quest. Therefore, he had to be sixteen at youngest, and twenty at oldest.

"This is no place for children." Thorin declared coolly.

"With all due respect, your majesty, we are journeying to retrieve your own bairn. Perhaps, she might like some youthful company? Some other dwarrow children to help her adjust?" Elsba said, her head held high as she met Thorin's gaze.

"They won't slow us, Thorin, no more than Oín and I will slow you, but you wouldn't dare dream of leaving us behind now, would you?" Balin had interjected on behalf of the boys. Thorin in turn had glared at his advisor, but agreed nevertheless with a non-verbal grunt. He had mounted his own steed, and thus led his Company of sixteen dwarrow and a dozen guards from the courtyard. He didn't look back.

Traveling should have felt freeing. Thorin had expected it to be what with the relatively small traveling group. They made good timing. It was nice too to be living simply, not as their king but merely a leader of a Company. It was odd how being an exiled monarch was so different from being a proper one. He had no heavy bejeweled robes on the road, he wore no crown and, best of all, there were no meeting or other social obligations thrust upon him. At least, not in the way that he had become resigned to. With his steadfast companions, out here on the road, he was simply Thorin. He was still their leader, but he had always been their leader.

At times Thorin still hated the way that his position had distanced him. Since he had become king, only Dwalin dared still spar with him. Even Balin's harsh advice had simmered down and that was to say nothing of the other dwarrow. His previous Companions met him with bows and spoke so formally. At first, it had been nice when they fell back into their old selves. They did not dare to openly disrespect him, but there was no bowing on the road either. They each had tasks to do each night, and he was happy to pull his weight. He knew that their change of behavior was all in deference to him, but it still felt strange. As king, Thorin could no longer walk through a crowd without the conversation ceasing and everyone bowing to him.