A Tale of Swords and Dragons: The Journey Begins. A 'The Hobbit' Fanfiction

Something in Common

We continued walking after Bilbo's handkerchief crisis, which was waved off with a 'move on' from Thorin. Gandalf once again lead the company, with Thorin behind the Wizard and me tailing the Dwarf prince. I should probably be around Bilbo, as I am supposed to be protecting him, but I decided he was well enough protected being in the middle of the company. We were barely out of the Shire anyways, so there isn't much danger around. I'll keep him closer when we enter wilder country.

Besides, I enjoy talking to Thorin - when we get the chance to. He talked about Erebor - the Lonely Mountain - in its glory days: the great seams of gold running like rivers through stone, the skills of the Dwarves' craftsmanship, and of the great wealth the city held. He also talked about the Arkenstone, how all of the Dwarf clans swore an oath to help the wielder of the stone in times of war, and that Bilbo needs to steal said stone so Thorin can lead the seven Dwarf armies against Smaug. He also told me about Smaug's desolation upon Erebor. I've got to admit, this Dragon has a bad temper.

"What about you, Zorina?" He asks suddenly. I stare at him with a confused expression. "What is your Dwarf clan like? And how do you know so much about Dragons?" Wow, so many questions. I have a feeling it's only a tenth of the questions that he wants to ask.

So I told him about the complex system of the Dwarf clans in Alagaësia. "There's thirteen Dwarf clans in total, each with its own Grimstborith, or clan chief. These clan chiefs elect one of them to be a Dwarf king, and his or her clan becomes the ruling clan. Each clan has its own function within the Dwarf society, operating independently in specific areas, but overall matters are decided by the king." Thorin seems very interested in all of this as I rant on about Dwarf society structure in Alagaësia. I guess it is different from his own society.

"The thirteen Dwarf clans are: Dûrgrimst Urzhad. Dûrgrimst means 'clan' in Alagaësian Dwarvish. There's also Dûrgrimst Knurlcarathn; Dûrgrimst Fanghur; Dûrgrimst Gedthrall; Dûrgrimst Ledwonnû; Dûrgrimst Vrenshrrgn - those guys are trouble, their name literally means 'War Wolves'; Dûrgrimst Az Sweldn rak Anhûin; Dûrgrimst Nagra; Dûrgrimst Feldûnost; Dûrgrimst Quan; Dûrgrimst Ebardac; Dûrgrimst Ragni Hefthyn and Dûrgrimst Ingeitum." I list them all off on my fingers.

"Which one is your clan?" He inquires.

"Dûrgrimst Ingeitum. The Dwarf clan of smiths. Last I was in Alagaësia they were the ruling clan." The Dwarf prince nods in understanding. I notice a small pass along a cliff face coming up so I squeeze Stardust between Thorin and Dwalin's horse. Once we reach the bottom of the cliff, I ride up beside Thorin again.

"You didn't answer my second questions." He grumbled. I chuckle at his forwardness.

"Dwarves have had many battles with Dragons. It may have never escalated to a full-scale war, but it was enough for us to understand a Dragon's strengths and weaknesses." I wish I could tell him more, but Gandalf. Urgh.

Thorin must have caught on to my vagueness. "When will you tell me the full truth?" He asks quietly. I shrug.

"When Gandalf feels that the time is right, though I'm sure fate has a more... sudden reveal for us." A ghost of a smile appears on his face.

"Indeed, that seems to be the way of the world." I grin in agreement. After a few minutes of strangely non-awkward silence, he asks, "Why are you still wearing your cloak, you've never taken it off."