1 | vengeance [oakenshield]

THREE

PERSUASIVE NEGOTIATIONS

Thorin gave three fists to the door. Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Any more forceful and you'll break the poor Hobbit's door down," Katrina remarked sarcastically. "The presence of a handful of Dwarves isn't enough torture already?"

"You have quite a way with your words." It was the only comment Thorin could make without any bitterness attached to it. He didn't know if her goading was purposeful or a naturally occurring phenomenon in her life, but his already waning patience was wearing thin.

Her smile was ghostly. "I've been told it's a gift," she boasted. "Impressed, are we?"

Again, Thorin chose to remain silent and not fall victim to her incessant jabber. Mahal save me from this woman.

He was saved from any additional comments when the door opened. "Gandalf," Thorin practically sighed with relief, glancing at the Grey Wizard before peering into the small home. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice."

"Which, with all due respect, my good king, could have been avoided had we asked one of the very pleasant Hobbit-folk who resides in this here region."

Thorin sighed in defeat and fought every urge to roll his eyes as he carefully strode into the home, not failing to notice the cheeky smile Gandalf was wearing as he gestured both of them inside. "We would not have found it at all had it not been for the mark on the door," he continued as he worked on the straps of his cloak. A warm smile allowed itself onto his face when he met the eyes of two younger Dwarves, one blond, the other a short-haired brunette that had a stubble for facial hair.

Katrina observed this small but very important detail. In the hour they had spent together, his cheekbones had never lifted. It was only when he laid his eyes on that of his kin did he seem to allow himself to become more vulnerable, but at the same she could feel that he was also forcing himself to be more guarded, as if showing that he was relaxed equated to weakness.

The host of the Hobbit hole sputtered in surprise. "Mark?" he exclaimed as he shuffled past three Dwarves. "There's no mark. It was painted a week ago!"

Katrina allowed herself to rest on the now closed door. "There's one there now," she commented, allowing a sly smile to form as she rose her chin. "I wonder how that came to be, Gandalf?"

"Now, now, Katrina," the Wizard grumbled lowly before remaining composure. "Bilbo Baggins, allow you to meet the leader of our company: Thorin Oakenshield."

Katrina's eyes were poised on the named Dwarf. She watched as his chest seemed to inflate and his shoulder broadened as he observed the Hobbit. His eyes held a different sense of pride than the look from earlier. Perhaps being in the presence of someone inferior to him was a way he could mend the ego she had bruised, but she knew that although he was brash, he wasn't so cruel as to demean lower life.