Queen Under the Mountain - Thorin Oakenshield

~Three~

~The Quest Begins~

"Wait! Wait! Hold on!" A dot was coming towards them, and soon enough they found that it was Bilbo Baggins, waving his arms above him, contract in hand. 

"I signed it. I'm officially the fifteenth member of the company." He handed the freshly-signed contract to Balin.

Balin eyed the contract. "Well, everything seems to be in order. Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield."

"Give him a pony," Thorin ordered.

"No, no, that's won't be necessary," Bilbo quickly declined.  "Thank you, but I'm sure I can keep up on foot. I've done my fair share of walking holidays..."

They didn't make it far before he was far behind, just another dot behind them on the path through the trees.

"How that's keeping up, Master Baggins?" Dahlia called over her shoulder.

He panted in response, out of breath.

He was hoisted up onto a pony after that by Fili and Kili following a stern look from Thorin.  

"Welcome aboard," Dahlia told him, chuckling at him sitting awkwardly on the back of the pony.

While they continued onward, some of the dwarves were passing coins back and forth.

"What's that all about?" Bilbo asked Gandalf.

"Oh, they took wagers on whether or not you'd turn up," Gandalf replied. "Most of them bet that you wouldn't."

"Oh - and what did you think?"

Gandalf chuckled as a pouch of coins flew into his hand. "Oh, my dear fellow, I never doubted you for a second." He tucked the pouch into his pocket.

Dahlia nudged her pony so that it trotted up next to Thorin. She held out her hand. He sighed, handing her a small pouch of coins of her own. She laughed.

"So, what's your story, Master Baggins?" she asked him later on as the journey continued, now riding beside him and Gandalf.

"My story? Oh, not much, really. I'm not that interesting. I like my books, and I like cooking and gardening. The simple things." He smiled.  "What about you?"

"I come from the Durin kin in the Iron Hills. My father is the Lord there. Perhaps you heard of him, Dain Ironfoot?"

"I haven't, I'm afraid."

"As I said, we Dwarves of the Iron Hills are kin with the Durins in Erebor, so I visited the mountain kingdom as a child.  Then, I arrived again sixty years ago to meet my betrothed."

"Oh. And who was that?"

She nodded ahead.  "The leader of our company."

"Thorin?" He sounded surprised. 

She nodded. "Aye. I arrived there sixty years ago, and I never left." She smiled at their leader while Bilbo just blinked back in surprise. 

"Ugh, horse hair - having a reaction," Bilbo sniffled a while later after a trio of sneezes. "Wait, Stop! We have to turn back!" he called, halting the company and digging around in his pockets.  "I forgot my handkerchief."

"Here, use this-" Bofur tore off a piece of his jacket and tossed it to Bilbo.

"Thanks..."

Gandalf chuckled.  "You'll have to manage without pocket handkerchiefs, as well as many other things, Bilbo Baggins, before we reach our journey's end. You were born into the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire. But home is now behind you - and the world is ahead."

~ ~ ~ ~

The group carried on until dark. There they stopped for the day and made camp.

A sudden screeching carried out through the night.

Bilbo jumped.  "What was that?" he cried. 

"Orcs," answered Kili.

Bilbo paled.  "Orcs?!"

Fili nodded. "Throat-cutters. There'll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them."

"They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep," added Kili. "Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood."

"Oh, enough you two," said Dahlia from where she sat before the fire, sharpening her daggers. "Don't scare the poor man." Poor Bilbo looked as though he was going to pass out again. 

The brothers shared a glance and then shared a chuckle.

"You think that's funny?" Thorin spoke. "You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?"

"We didn't mean anything by it," Kili said quietly, now looking guilty.

"No, you didn't. You know nothing of the world." Thorin stalked away. 

"Don't take it personally, Ki," Dahlia told him.  "But it's best to tread lightly on the subject of Orcs around your uncle.  He's crossed paths with them more than once, and that was more than enough."

"Aye, don't mind him, Laddie," said Balin. "Your Uncle Thorin has more cause than most to hate Orcs."

"Disgusting filth," spat Dahlia. "Nothing but cold-blooded killers, the lot of them."

"What did happen that day?" Kili asked. "Uncle never speaks of it.'

"No, he does not, and for good reason." Balin sighed before launching into the story: "After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient Dwarf Kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had gotten there first. Moria had been taken by legions of Orcs, led by the most vile of all their race: Azog, the Defiler. The giant Gundabad Orc. He had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. And he began by beheading the king.  Thrain, Thorin's father, went mad with grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we don't know, we still don't know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us. That was when I saw him-" Balin smiled and looked to where Thorin was standing away from the group. "-A young Dwarf prince facing down the pale Orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog the Defiler learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken. Together we rallied, and drove the orcs back. For a time, our enemy had been defeated. But there was no feast, no song that night, for our dead were beyond counting. We few had survived. And I thought to myself then: there was one who I could follow, there was one who I could call King."

"And the pale Orc? What happened to him?" questioned Bilbo, sounding both curious and fearful, and rightly so. 

"He slunk back into the hole whence he came," grumbled Thorin. "That filth died of his wounds long ago." He stomped back over to his spot in the camp.

Dahlia followed him. "Thorin-"

"I want no more talk of Orcs, Dahlia."

"But I just think it's naive of you to think that Azog is no longer a threat. Rumours have carried across the lands, I've heard them - I think he still lives. He's still out there."

Thorin didn't answer, and didn't meet her eyes.  "Goodnight, Dahlia."

She sighed and he lay down, facing away from her, not saying another word.

Well, not exactly the friendly and peaceful goodnight parting they had shared the previous night. 

(Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! :))