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10: Cared For By Dwarves

10: Cared For By Dwarves

Kili was my crutch as we walked down into the hoard.

"Kili, go," Thorin said and held my arm.

He protested. "But-"

He raised one eyebrow at Kili and he walked away. Thorin looked at me.

"Are you alright?" He asked me.

I replied, "I'll survive."

"I'm sorry for your head," he parted my wavy hair, "What happened there?"

"Nail accident. I'm fine really. Don't worry about me."

"If you need to go home, so be it."

I said, "Thorin, I'm not from here."

"Of course, no one lives in these parts."

"No, no. I meant I'm not from here. Wherever 'here' means."

He stopped and looked at me.

"You're telling me," he paused, "That you're not from Middle Earth?"

Middle Earth? That's what this place was called?

I shook my head, "No, I'm human. From... Earth."

"And how did you get here?" He asked.

"Uh," I scratched my head, "I honestly don't know. One minute I was running, and the next I was at Bilbo's door. And all of you showed up. I know it's crazy okay, I literally don't know either."

"Well do you have a home you can go to on this 'Earth'?" He asked.

I replied, "No, not really."

He held me for support and continued to walk. "How can that be so?"

"Well, home is somewhere you feel safe and loved and you're surrounded by people who want what's best for you right?" I said and he nodded.

He got to these swords and handed me his torch so he could inspect them.

I confessed, "That doesn't exist for me."

He stopped grabbing at the swords.

"What?" He asked.

"Mmhmm," I hummed.

I asked for a sword and he handed me one covered in spiderwebs.

Great. Of course there are spiders here in Middle Earth.

I hope we don't encounter any of them. What if they've been modified in some way? I shook my head and unsheathed it. I had seen enough Bleach to know how to wield one.

"That is Glamdring," someone said.

I almost jumped and turned to look at the speaker. 

"Those were forged by the High Elves of Gondalin," Gandalf said and Thorin stopped inspecting one.

Did I call elves, or did I fucking call elves?

"Is there something wrong with elves?" I asked.

His kind tone changed into a deeper, meaner one.

"Yes," Thorin spat.

"You could not wish for a finer blade," Gandalf huffed.

"Here, Gandalf," I said and passed one to him.

He claimed, "This is Dashuri."

"Dwalin, don't you want one?" I asked the dwarf.