A Place to Belong

Chapter 3: Trolls

Thorin sat listening to the crack of the fire and was staring blankly at the myriad of colour at its core. The sun was dipping in the sky and the dark of night was setting in. He looked up when he caught movement in the corner of his eye. He was greeted by the image of Dwalin and Ori, whom he had sent to get more firewood; they were awkwardly dragging what looked like a dead body towards the camp.

Thorin stood up; the chattering groups around him stopped as he did, he walked over to investigate. The rest followed him with their eyes, all except Bombur who was enthralled by the meagre feast he was preparing.

As the burdened pair moved closer, Thorin prepared himself for what would inevitably be one hell of an explanation. They stopped in front of him and gently laid down the blood stained body. They looked at him unsure of what he could be thinking; Ori was evidently expecting the worst.

"Well?" questioned Thorin. His piercing blue eyes glowed ominously in the light of the fire.

Ori immediately burst out afraid that Dwalin would pin it on him. "We were out getting wood for the fire like you asked, and we heard growling and grunting and someone scream, so, we hid behind some trees when we heard something running towards us. He..." Ori finally stopped for a breath after speaking at lightning fast speed and was pointing his finger at Dwalin. "He swung his war hammer and hit her!" his finger moved to the unconscious body in front of them. Now more relaxed he finished his explanation at a slower more controlled pace, "then we dispatched the pack of wolf that had chased her."

Thorin stared blankly at him for a few seconds, Ori had always been a little eccentric but his rapid explanation had pushed him up on the mad scale. He looked to the body, and examined it, "Her?" he whispered under his breath quietly, Ori started up again hearing his inquiry, but this interest was solely for Thorin himself and not the others. Very few women travelled nowadays and even fewer did so alone, why was this one out?

Thorin spent a few moments taking her in; she wore what looked like a trench coat, made of buckskin leather, knee high gaiters over her leggings and heavy boots all of which were well worn and nearing a state of disrepair. She bore several belts bearing multiple throwing knives; and a bow and quiver was slung over her shoulders. She looked wrecked, she was covered in muck and blood, and she had clearly been caught off guard.

He worked his eyes from her boots up to her face. Her features were soft and young; she looked to be no older than about 20. She had naturally rouge lips, full and as red as blood. Her eyebrows were dark, and framed her almond shaped eyes. She had long wavy hair, down to her shoulders; it was a strong auburn colour, with reds and browns snaking through it. She reminded him of someone, someone he'd long forgotten about and thought to be dead. 'Impossible' he thought, eschewing the idea.

The unintelligible drone of Ori's voice rumbled on as Thorin looked the woman up and down. He raised his hand and Ori finally stopped speaking.

"It was an accident... I assume?" he asked, looking to Dwalin, who was leaning against his war hammer, his eyes directed to the ground almost as if in shame. He had never been one to let his emotions get the better of him, but then again to Thorin's knowledge he had never accidentally or deliberately injured a woman, of any race.

Dwalin raised his head solemnly and nodded, the look of guilt didn't sit well on his usually confident and strong features, and Thorin felt a small pang of pity for the old warrior.

"Well then..." Thorin began breaking the silence and trying to lighten the mood, "Oin see what you can do to help her, we don't want her to die do we?" The latter was directed at the whole company; they shook their heads and answered with plentiful 'no's'. Dwalin gave a small withering smile, which faded quickly, Thorin then laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder and returned to his seat by the fire.