Chapter 12

2.4K 93 2
                                    

Ten years later…

“Well just let me know if you end up wanting anything.” She winked.

“Oh, she is such a harlot!” Beuren muttered. The four of them sat at a corner table in the bar. The pub was full that night, for it was Thorin’s birthday. Half the guard was there if not more, his comrade scowled at the exceptionally pretty barkeep across the room. Dwalin and Balin sat on either side of them. Dwalin did nothing but egg Thorin on.

“Just ask her.”

“No, I’m not going to ask her, no.”

“C’mon lad! You aren’t getting any younger!”

“And neither are you!”

“I have my reasons lad, you, ha, you don’t! You’re a prince for Mahal sakes! Be a little bold!” Dwalin laughed, hitting his shoulder jokingly.

“If you really think that I’m going to let him ask that… tramp, you are sadly mistaken.” Beuren snapped. Dwalin smiled.

“Oh he wasn’t going to ask her, lassie.” Dwalin sighed, putting his feet up on the table.

“Then who?” Thorin and Balin both glared at Dwalin. Beuren frowned, looking at Balin. “Am I missing something?”

“You really are oblivious aren’t you?” The eldest dwarf of their small clique said. 

Beuren was quite taken aback by his comment. Twenty seven years old, twenty years of being best friends with Thorin of Durin and she had no idea who he had his eye on! Though she hated to admit it, she apparently was oblivious. This annoyed her, she knew everything about the prince, from his fighting technique, down to the small things like favorite color, how could she not know this?! Being blind was not an easy thing for her, finally irritated that no one would say anything, she crossed her arms and slumped back in her seat, kicking her boots up onto the table.

The three men laughed, all of which knew that the woman in the conversation had indeed not been the barkeep, but Beuren. They kept it quiet though, not wanting to make things uncomfortable for her. Her jealousy only made it funnier. How could she be so unknowing? Beuren, the girl that knew what he was going to say before he said it, the only person who could beat him at a duel because she already knew what he’d do, how could that woman, Beuren Elendil, be so unknowing, so naïve.

The barkeep had her eyes set on Thorin. This was about to put the little three quarters elf over the edge. She tried hard not to concentrate on it, rather the mysterious new woman in Thorin’s life. By all means, she wasn’t jealous, well, a tad bit, but that’s not the point. She would be happy to meet her, let her in, make her one of the group. Oh who are you kidding, she thought to herself, you’d rather watch her fall into the very pits of hell before letting her in.

The barmaid smiled and made her way over to the table. Several dwarves whistled at her, watching her walk by. She smiled as she neared, but as soon as her eyes fell on Beuren her gaze turned sour. She took the rag out of her apron, shoving Beuren’s boots off the table, wiping at the wood with the rag. She galred then looked at Thorin, smiling sweetly.

“Another ale?”

“Please.” She leaned across the table, taking the mug, winking as she stood.

“You know, hon, you really should change your top, we’re in a bar not a bedroom.” Dwalin choked on his drink. Balin shook his head, hiding his face in his hands. Thorin sighed, gritting his teeth to keep from laughing. The barmaid looked down at her.

“And what’s your excuse?” Beuren smirked.

“Standard cut for my uniform.” She said motioning to the sword on her hip. With a dramatic eye roll the barmaid left.

“Standard cut for your uniform?” Thorin laughed. She grinned happily.

“Aye.” Then with a small giggle she added “Mahal I’m good.” Dwalin patted her shoulder with a laugh. Balin sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“We really should do something other than sit here in this bar fighting with the lass.” Dwalin said, taking a deep gulp of his drink.

“Aye, but what?”

“Well, its Thorin’s birthday, I say he decides.” Beuren said. She stretched her arms over her head then pushed out her chair. “And whatever it is, you three have fun.”

“Three, there’s four.”

“Yes, but the fourth is exiting the premises. She shall return to her chamber, across the village, where she will consume several beverages containing copious amounts of alcohol, and then shall lie unconscious with a lovely down pillow on the floor of her bathroom, now if you’d excuse me.”

“Didn’t you just do that last week?” Dwalin asked.

“That was your fault!” She chided, laughing.

 “Oh, c’mon! You gotta stay!” They all whined.

“I have work tomorrow!”

“No you don’t!” Thorin laughed. “Its Thursday, you and I don’t work on Thursday!”

“I took some extra time!”

“That’s a lie!” Dwalin hollered.

“Always know how to ruin the party!” Thorin teased.

“Oi! I’m going home, good night. And happy birthday.” She nodded. 

Star-CrossedWhere stories live. Discover now