An Extended Scene:
I didn't go to Bree to "pick up some ladies"
~~~~~~~~~~~~Thorin Oakenshield's Point of View~~~~~~~~~~~~
It almost happened too quickly, with two assassins on their way and a wizard sliding into the seat opposite my own figure, effectively saving me from making a scene. To be certain, I could've taken on the two human-blockheads, but that does not mean I could defeat them all. Indeed, I do believe killing a human in a human establishment may lead to more trouble. And thus, I am grateful for the wizard's appearance across from me, not that I'd ever admit it out loud.
"Mind if I join you?" Gandalf asks me, though I sincerely doubt that he is asking permission. Of course, I have never met this old figure, but as the heir to Erebor's throne, I know a great deal about his travels and excursions. His surprise entrances are famous in these lands, though it is none the less shocking at this time. Additionally, that comfort he holds around strangers must be an understatement as he goes about ordering food from the waitress.
"I should introduce myself. My name is Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey," the wizard remarks, his eyes boring into my own before diverting to the side. Confused, I turn my head in the slightest bit only to see a hooded figure leaning over my shoulder. I mentally curse myself as I flinch away at the contact, prompting the mysterious figure to laugh and slide into a seat next to the old man.
"Oh and this is my lovely assistant, Erudian Houdart" Gandalf informs me, though I pay more attention to the grunt sounding from the cloaked figure next to him.
"I prefer the term companion," the figure speaks, shocking me as the voice resonates in a feminine tone. Peering towards the shortened female, the light from the fire behind me reveals no features on her face. Instead, a strange and heavenly light glows from beneath the fabric, though it is not enough to reveal anything about this female.
"I know who you are, wizard, just not the female" I reply, nonchalance hiding my natural curiosity as I come upon the strange company. It would be a sign of weakness to express my curiosity in such a manner.
"I do have a name you know!" the woman, Erudian, shouts in bitterness. I send her a less than humoured gaze, turning back to the wizard who is surely more important than this woman. Why he is traveling with a female, I haven't the slightest clue. But I already have an aching dislike of her attitude.
"Well now! This is a fine chance. What brings Thorin Oakenshield to Bree?"
Gandalf asks, ignoring my previous glare at the woman.
"Hopefully not the ladies," she remarks, a slight whisper under her breath. I roll my eyes at the notion of this woman, seeing as these commoners are unworthy of the attention they demand, and especially unfit, seeing as they are human. If I came to this town for the ladies, I'd surely have a wife at this moment.
"I received word that my father had been seen wandering the Wilds near Dunland. I went looking, and found no sign of him" I reply to Gandalf's question. My sadness at the lost hope fails to shine through my cold exterior, a look I've mastered over the trying previous century.
"Thorin, it's been a long time since anything but rumor was heard of Thrain" Gandalf replies, looking at me with a compassion and pity that I strongly despise. Hope is not lost in this matter, and Gandalf needs to stop acting like it is.
"He still lives; I am sure of it" I remark defensively. At that moment, the waitress from earlier returns with Gandalf's plate of food. Erudia quickly goes about grabbing a piece of bread off the plate, popping it into her mouth. It is this motion, however, that gives me the slightest view of the woman across from me, her lips plump and pink. That is all I see, and I am surprised that I want to know more of her after such a simple glance.
"My father came to see you before he went missing. What did you say to him?" I ask of Gandalf, suspicion lingering in my eyes as my thoughts focus once more. His arrival cannot and is not a sheer coincidence of fate, if I know anything about the wizard. Indeed, this was planned and I need to know why.
"I urged him to march upon Erebor; to rally the seven armies of the dwarves, to destroy the dragon and take back the Lonely Mountain. And I would say the same to you. Take back your homeland," Gandalf replies, urgency lacing his tone.
"This is no chance meeting, is it, Gandalf?" I question the wizard, glancing at the mysterious woman with a look of distrust. She may be intriguing, but that does not explain her presence near my side. It's one thing for the wizard's arrival, but her's as well? There are greater plans in motion.
"No, it is not. The Lonely Mountain troubles me, Thorin. That dragon has sat there long enough. Sooner or later, darker minds will turn toward Erebor. We ran into some unsavory characters whilst traveling along the Greenway. They mistook us for some vagabonds," Gandalf remarks, prompting Erudian to chuckle softly.
"I imagine they regretted that," I remark, not surprised in the slightest bit. Gandalf appears old, but from the tales I've heard, he is a great force to be reckoned with. A wandering wizard must have a weapon, after all.
"Indeed, they did" the woman remarks smugly, looking down at her tunic after pushing open her cloak in the slightest bit. And though I am tempted to gape at the large blood stains upon the cloth, no good leader would do this. Curiosity is a weakness.
"One of them was carrying a message" Gandalf informs me, prompting the woman to reach into her cloak pocket, pulling out a cloth. As she slides it across the table, I am surprised to see a rough etching of the Lonely Mountain. What is this, and how did she get it?
"It is Black Speech" she tells me. From what she implies, I know that this woman can speak the tongue of Mordor...the tongue of our enemy. Shoving it across the table, I avoid looking at the potential villain. After all, no clear character speaks the orcish tongue.
"Promise of payment" Gandalf says.
"For what?" I question again, hitting myself for the slip of my curiosity. But then again, I need to know what the orcs are saying about Erebor.
"Your head. Someone wants you dead. Thorin, you can wait no longer. You are the heir to the throne of Durin. Unite the armies of the dwarves. Together you have the might and power to retake Erebor. Summon a meeting of the seven dwarf families. Demand they stand by their oaths." I stare at the wizard with shock coating my face. But at the same time, I am sure that my fear shines through my eyes. Sure, I've heard of assassins laying in wait of my arrival, but I did not know their reasoning. This is a far greater ordeal than I once expected, but it will not be dealt with in fear. Therefore, I wash the look away on a sudden whim, a stoic expression of normality coming to paint my features once more.
"The seven armies swore that oath to the one who wields the King's Jewel, the Arkenstone! It is the only thing that will unite them, and in case you have forgotten, that jewel was stolen by Smaug," I remark harshly, bitterness lurking at my throat. A movement in the corner alerts me to the assassins once more, their figures now leaving the tavern in which we converse.
"Will you go take care of them, Erudian, while I speak to Thorin?" Gandalf's asks of the female, prompting her to stand to her feet though it gives her no more height. Indeed, she appears to be the size of a large hobbit, nowhere near intimidating or threatening in stance.
"Of course"she replies, bowing of me in the same motion. I watch her in surprise as she struts from the tavern, looking less than dangerous but more than threatening. First, she speaks the Orcish tongue. Now, she is an evident assassin. Who is Gandalf associating with and how can we trust this female?
Our conversation is easier from thence forth, with the woman's sarcasm absent from the table. And thus, it is decided that I will take back my home, not for my own sake, but for my nephews and my people. While I gather the troops of my kin, Gandalf will gather our "burglar" in the nearby Shire, a strange choice that I am hesitant to trust.
Our disproportionate strides lead us from the Prancing Pony and back out into the storm that always seems to cover Bree. With little surprise, we catch the female punching people out in the rain, growls escaping her lips with each hit.
"Finally Gandalf. I was starting to lose my temper" she shouts over the thunder, although I am far too entranced to pay any attention to her words...Her hood has fallen down.
"That would not be good for anyone, so let us go. Now." She grabs at the reins of two nearby mares, one a horse and the other a pony. Her lean body, now uncovered by the cloak, pushes her form onto the horse, blonde hair swaying in the light gusts of wind. It is only then that she meets my eyes.
She is easily the most beautiful creature I have ever laid my eyes upon.
Her hair is a soft, vanilla blonde, though the rain pouring down on it surely makes it darker. But in the same way, the hairs now cling to her body, all the way down to her curvy hips. The lips that I saw before, now red in the misty and chilly air of the coming winter. Her cloak of earlier hid her beautiful skin that glows a pearly and heavenly light, unnatural, in certainty. But perhaps the most beautiful aspect of her entity is her eyes. They shine the color of the clouds and stars combined, boring into my own sapphire blue like how the early dawn meets the new blue day. But more than anything else, they express home.
She knows the pains I've travailed, felt them in her own way. The ways in which our eyes communicate express a shared fear for the future, yet prospective of something greater. Within these magnificent orbs, I see my home, my kingdom long forgotten. She speaks of our victory over Smaug and the times to come, all without saying a word. Looking at her, I see my future, although it is for the most unknown of reasons.
I would like to stare at her for eternity, capturing this moment for the years to come. And yet, we have miles to go before we sleep, and we must move onward in this awakened hour. Shaking my head, I pull away from the intimate, almost physical contact, climbing upon the pony near my side and heading off into the direction of home and beyond. The rain casts a shadow about the lands in which we travel, darkening with each day, month, and year. And perhaps it's this notion that prompts me to look back at the light, the woman of great potential. Turning around, little surprise stirs my heart to see her already looking at me. Instead, it is a great feeling of affection, and more than anything else, trust. Nodding my head at this woman, who does the same in turn, I question where I went wrong in trusting her. But as all things happen, in the greatest of surprises, I am glad to have met her, and in the end, come to respect her.
With our hoods returned to our heads and the promise of meeting like the dawn and the day on some future occasion, we travel in ways opposite to one another.
Of course, I didn't know what was to come in the following years, yet I hold no regret in meeting her gaze upon that day in Bree, for it set into motion perhaps the greatest luck of all. It's as Bilbo once recalled: this was an unexpected journey.
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Happy Halloween, my readers! So, I've been receiving great feedback on this story lately, as well as many comments requesting Thorin's point of view on parts of the story. At first, I was hesitant to do just this....but I'm still heartily attached to Erudian and Thorin's story, so I asked myself: why not?
And thus, we have this "Extended Scene."
I am planning on posting random scenes like this for the coming holiday occasions (Thanksgiving, Christmas/Hanukkah, New Years, etc.) with the majority occuring in Thorin's point of view. Take it as my "thank you" gif for the great interaction here on Saving Durin.
Let me know what you think!
xoxo
Patagonian