Different Sense

Different Sense: 04

Animals which were bigger than him, usually didn't bode to well. “I'm fine with walking, honestly.” Sadly though his comment didn't seem relevant. Thorin spared a moment to listen before turning.

Lothiriel sat plaiting the mane of her pony, there was a small smile on her face which meant that she must have found this whole moment amusing to some extent. Her eyes flicked up just as Thorin looked away and ignored the fuss which Bilbo was making when someone had hoisted him up onto a white pony.

Giving a click of her tongue, she directed her pony over to Bilbo's, he himself looked immensely uncomfortable and awkward in the saddle. “Mr Baggins,” upon hearing her voice he slowly turned and looked at her. “It is very good to see you. What changed your mind?”

Bilbo awkwardly diverted his attention between glancing at her, and then focussing on gripping the reins. “Well...you, actually. What you said last night got me thinking, and well...” he trailed off and smiled lightly. “Here I am.”

“Here you are.” Lothiriel smiled and nodded. “I am glad you came, Bilbo Baggins.” She said honestly while looking up at the sky.

“Yes, well,” Bilbo glanced ahead of him. Blinking slowly he gave Lothiriel a quick sidelong look. “Thorin didn't seem to pleased by me appearing.”

Lothiriel pouted lightly and looked towards the dwarf in question. She and Bilbo flinched when Thorin had turned and looked back at them, Bilbo and Lothiriel looked at each other and then back at him.

“It is fine to feel slightly unwanted.” Lothiriel said, Bilbo looked at her confused by her words. Lothiriel grinned quickly. “I get the feeling I am unwanted too. But I am sure he'll come round, stubbornness is a strong trait in dwarves, let alone dwarves of royalty.” Lothiriel leant over and clapped her hand lightly onto his shoulder, smiling she gave a wink and left his side.

When conversing with Lothiriel, Bilbo felt rather sure of his riding skills. But when she moved away he didn't feel as sure as what he previously did. Admittedly he didn't look up to often for the first few hours of travelling, but he did whip up the confidence eventually and he even started a conversation with Bofur and Gloin.

“I read that Nymphs usually travelled in groups, or in twos.” Bilbo stated. He had just learnt that Lothiriel had been recruited from the outskirts of Eryn Vorn. It confused him ever so slightly as to why she wasn't in amongst the trees where Nymphs were known to dwell.

“Aye,” Gloin said while giving his red beard a thoughtful stroke. “We heard that too. Apparently it is not true, she sounds like a odd one.”

“Thorin seems weary of her too.” Bofur noted while glancing at their leader. Bofur mainly stated this because every so often Thorin would shoot her a weary look. Lothiriel, ignorant or just plain ignoring, seemed none the wiser. She continued to travel next to Gandalf while casually looking around the surroundings they were travelling in.

“What do you think?” Bofur added while looking at Bilbo. The hobbit gave a jolt and fidgeted awkwardly in the saddle. He briefly glanced over to Lothiriel, Gandalf rode next to her but his figure and with the added height of his hat, made her look so much smaller than she actually was, as it made him look much taller than he actually is. Despite the odd sizing it didn't seem to bother either rider, Bilbo's eyes slowly travelled to Thorin, who did indeed keep looking over his shoulder now and again.

“I don't know.” Bilbo added quietly, with that said the three travelled on. Gloin stroking his beard every so often, Bofur humming lightly to himself and Bilbo watched the three riders ahead of them.

----

The company set up camp in a clearing sheltered by a cliff base. As Thorin stood staring over at the moonlight valley in front of him, Balin's voice echoed quietly as he told the tale of his battle against Azog and the loss of both his father and grandfather on the same day. The day he became King was perhaps one of the worst days in his life. That day had played so many times in his dreams, he had lost count how many times he'd relived it. When he turned around and looked at the group, or those who were still awake, he frowned at the slightly awe struck expressions on their faces.

He didn't say anything, he merely walked past them and took to sorting out his bed for the night.

“What of the pale Orc?” Bilbo asked.

“What happened to him?” Lothiriel continued his sentence while leaning her chin in her hands and looking over at him.

“That filth died of his wounds long ago.” Thorin said with a hardened tone. He settled slowly and gave a curt nod to his nephews. He was more than aware of the uncertain looks which were being exchanged, Balin and Gandalf were the main owners of these expressions. Thorin was to tired to question them. He didn't honestly care that much, he wanted Erebor back, and he wanted the Arkenstone where it belonged.

Leaning back he fidgeted against the rock behind him for a few moments before glancing around. Gloin laid undisturbed, he breathed the small flying night critters that hovered above his sleeping form before breathing them back out again.

Lothiriel sat nearby inspecting her gloves and flexing her fingers. With thanks to the fire which burned in front of her, her eyes seemed to glow more than usual.

“You're far from home, aren't you?” Thorin didn't mean for his words to sound slightly harsh, it was merely a presumption. He was more than prepared to defend his words if she took them the wrong way. His tone of voice had perhaps hardened over the years so it sounded like he was being blunt most of the time. Lothiriel gave a sigh and clapped her hands together, steepling her fingers she looked over at him. She certainly didn't look like she took offence to his words, she seemed to be thinking for a response to them however.