Complicated (Thorin Oakenshield x Reader) [Slow Updates]

Chapter Nine

(Y/N) takes a small bite of a piece of spinach, and does her best not to wrinkle her nose.

She's never really been too fond of vegetables. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that her skin-changed form is carnivorous, or maybe not. Either way, it doesn't seem to matter much to her; the table is still filled with vegetables. She looks up and across the table at Dori, who is attempting to coax Ori into eating a piece of lettuce.

"Try it. Just a mouthful," the old dwarf says.

"I don't like green food," Ori says with a shake of his head. A few seats to her left Dwalin is sifting through his salad with his hands.

"Where's the meat?" he asks, looking up at the the others, whom give no response. She sees Oin, who's sitting to Dwalin's left, give a slice of radish he'd speared a confused and semi-revolted look.

"Have they got any chips?" Ori asks, looking to his left. (Y/N) raises an eyebrow, amused.

"I don't know what, but something tells me that'll be a no," she says with a chuckle. Ori shrugs.

"You never know." (Y/N) notices Gandalf and Elrond walk onto the platform they're eating on and towards a higher table a few meters away, but decides that it's not really worth noting. Across the table she sees Oin stuff a napkin into his ear trumpet to block out the flute music being played by a nearby elf, and she can't help but roll her eyes.

Why am I still being surprised by the excessive stupidity of some of these dwarves, she thinks. When she turns back to watch what Gandalf and the elf lord are doing, she notices that Thorin is sitting at the table with them, and wonders how she hadn't noticed that before. Whatever.

She also notices that Elrond is holding the elvish blade that Thorin had been using since they'd encountered the Trolls.

"This is Orcrist, the Goblin-cleaver. A famous blade, forged by the High Elves of the West. My kin," he says before handing it back to Thorin. "May it serve you well."

Gandalf then hands Elrond his sword, and the elf partially unsheathes it almost immediately.

"And this is Glamdring. The Foe-hammer, sword of the King of Gondolin," he says. As he explains how and why the swords were made, (Y/N) quickly loses interest. She starts to fiddle with the handle of the elvish blade Gandalf had given her.

"I wouldn't bother, lassie. Swords are named for their great deeds they do in war," Balin says, seemingly have noticed her bored fiddling and mistaken it for curiosity on whether or not the blade had a name.

"Oh, I wasn't going to ask. This isn't really much of a sword anyway. More of a dagger," she says, sheathing the blade once again. He nods in understanding, and goes back to looking down at his plate of greens, though obviously having no intention of eating. She decides to go back to listening to Elrond, Gandalf and Thorin's conversation out of pure boredom.

"How did you come by these?" she hears Elrond ask Gandalf, gesturing to Glamdring.

"We found them in a troll hoard on the Great East road, shortly before we were ambushed by orcs," Gandalf says.

"And what were you doing on the East Road?"

~~~~

The sky is dark and full of stars. (Y/N) sits just outside the group in the new outfit the elves had given her, consisting of a rather comfortable yet fitted (f/c) tunic, an off-white pair of trousers, and a pair of traditional style elvish boots. The fabric was light and breathable, and allowed for free movement. She's busying herself by setting up a place to sleep for the night. Or at least, that's what she wants them to think. She'd seen Thorin, Gandalf, Elrond and Balin walk off a few minutes earlier, and she's not sure what, but something tells her that they're discussing something important. And she wants to know what.