Saving Durin {Hobbit/Thorin}

Chapter 10: You can find me in the beard

Chapter 10:

You can find me in the beard

Luckily enough, my sense of smell is not up to par with my other senses, meaning that the troll hoard does not cause my own suffocation. I can smell from great distances, but the fragrance, or odor in this case, continues to be faint upon approach. For this very reason, I can track animals from far away, but will never know if I am catching up to them.

I am grateful for this flaw as we come upon the troll cave. From the dwarves' facial expressions, I can see that the smell is horrendous. But honestly, what did they expect? Roses? These are not elves we are talking about. However, my nose is not bad enough that I smelled nothing at all. The hoard smells like decaying carcasses (which probably lay in the cave).

"Oh, what's that stench?!" Nori exclaiming, talking publicly for the first time since our departure from Bilbo's abode.

"It's a troll hoard. Be careful what you touch," Gandalf warns the dwarves, though we both know it will be to no avail.

The walls shine of gold coinage and jewelry that reflects even the dimmest light. It is truly a beautiful scene, but it cannot quite diminish the horrendous smell. I am tempted to join the dwarves waiting outside, but alas, I am too curious.

"Seems a shame just to leave it lyin' around. Anyone could take it," Bofur says.

"Agreed. Nori, get a shovel," Gloin commands in his usual gruff tone. The group sets about creating a hole in which to store treasure. I roll my eyes at their idea of a "long term deposit" since it plays right into the stereotype of a dwarf: greedy. Furthermore, the chances of anyone finding this cave or even wanting to investigate it, given the smell, is minuscule. This whole treasure is safe from the wandering eyes of Middle Earth.

I follow after Gandalf and Thorin, curious as to what they will do, given all these jewels. As it turns out, they grab at two swords instead of the treasure.

"These swords were not made by any troll," Thorin deduces from a careful inspection of the blade's sheath. He hands Gandalf the sister sword to his own, before turning back to examination.

"I don't believe that trolls have the brain capacity to create anything, nonetheless a beautiful sword," I add to the conversation, backing up Thorin's point. My actions confuse me as I am still mad at the dwarf king for his unfair judgements of Bilbo.

"Nor were they made by any smith among men," continues Gandalf as he pulls the sword from the sheath, setting off another ray of light. He reasons, "These were forged in Gondolin by the High Elves of the First Age."

As you can probably expect, at the word "elves," Thorin moves to return the sword to its previous position against the wall. I reach out, touching his hand in order to warn him against discarding such a powerful weapon. He looks at me in surprise, as if he just realized I am here.

"You could not wish for a finer blade," Gandalf claims. I smile at Thorin encouragingly before removing my warm hand, reluctantly I will admit.

As Gandalf goes off to give Bilbo a proper sword (at least for a hobbit) and the dwarves continue to bury their treasure, Thorin and I wander around the cave. His eyes shine a bright contrast as they take in the gold, piled high on the walls. I can only imagine that this is his natural territory, surrounded in gold and fortune. The hungry eyes finally stop on a necklace of incredible beauty near the back of the cave. He looks predatorial as he sticks out his claim on the necklace.