The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings one shots and Imagines Book II

The merchant - Part 1 - Bard x Reader

Her humming, the sounds of cartwheels clattering, and horseshoes tapping against the old road, was all she had seemed to have heard for the past few days. The occasional hint of bird song, the only thing that seemed to break up the monotony. Not that it really bothered her, she was used to it. She was used to travelling the length and breadth of the land. Travelling from one town, one village, one city, to another; peddling her wares that she carried in the back of her wagon.

She had been doing this for most of her adult life; buying from one place and selling in another. Bringing goods from distant places; rare or unusual items that might hopefully appeal to those in the next place that she stopped. The open road was the only home that she had ever really known; the idea of a roof over her head, a strange one. It wasn't that she wouldn't like some place to settle down; some place that she could set up a little shop, and sell her goods, from there; but she doubted that she would find that place. After all, she had been doing this for years, and still hadn't found anywhere; but even if she did, she had a feeling that she would miss the open road too much. That she would miss her travels and seeing new places; so, such notions, were always put to the back of her mind; deemed as nothing more than silly thoughts.

"Look, Kaspier." She said, as she pulled on the reins, and the large, old horse slowly came to a stop.

"Do you see that? That is the Lonely Mountain. Erebor. The home of the Durin's. Well, it is now that they managed to take it back from the fire drake. And you know what the Mountain means? It means dwarves; dwarves that now have all that gold back and are hopefully willing to spend some of it." She chuckled, as she thought about all the items that she had purchased in hopes that they would appeal to Dwarvish tastes. Though she also knew from experience, that getting coin from the children of Mahal, was like getting blood from a stone.

"But it isn't just the Mountain; there is also Dale. The city is supposed to once again be doing well under their new master. You know, the one that actually killed the dragon when it destroyed Lake-town. Hopefully, his people have more coin in their pockets too. Coin that they will be happy to be separated from, for the right item." She chuckled again; well aware of how silly she must sound saying all this to her horse; but given that Kaspier always seemed to make noises like he understood, it just seemed like the right thing to do. And if she didn't talk to the horse, then it was sometimes many moons before she would utter a word to another being.

"Well, what do you say to keeping going for another hour or so, and then we will find somewhere to camp for the night. Maybe we can find one of the tributaries of the River Running so that I can have a bath. Don't want to get to Dale looking and smelling like this." She remarked. Laughing out loud, as Kaspier nodded in agreement.

"Hey! I only smell like this because I spend all day this close to your rear end. I think that you could do with a bath as well." Her amusement only growing, as the large horse shook his head, and let out a rather unamused snort.

"Fine, you grumpy old thing. Well, we will settle on a good brush, then. Get that coat of yours gleaming before we get to the city." She agreed, as she slapped the reins, and Kaspier once more began to pull the wagon along the well-trod road.

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Carefully she stoked the fire, as the pot bubbled happily above it. The smell of rabbit stew filling her senses, as she went back to drying her hair. Once she had found the perfect spot, she had removed Kaspier from between the shafts of the wagon and found him the best piece of ground with the juiciest looking grass; leaving the old fella to munch happily on his dinner, as she went out to find hers; thankful that it had not taken her too long before she had spied two long ears and a fluffy tail. Her kill butchered and placed into the pot with her few remaining vegetables, before she had ventured to the small river that she had camped nearby.

Days like this, were the only times that she took her hat from her head. The only time that she revealed the two things that showed that she wasn't as much the daughter of men, as she appeared. It was true to say that she was more like her father, than she was her elven mother, a mother that seemed to have been so distraught about giving birth to a creature like her, that she had sailed to the Undying Lands, leaving her with her father. A father that had been a soldier of Gondor, centuries ago. A father that had taught her all that she knew, that had encouraged her to use the skills that she had inherited from her mother; and had proudly stood by her side, when she had joined him in the ranks of the army. But when he had passed, Gondor had no longer felt like home; so, she had chosen to take the long life that was one of the few advantages of having an elf for a parent and begun her travels. Begun centuries of making her way from one place to another and seeing the wonders of Middle-Earth; centuries of hiding her awful ears, so that she was not judged, by men or elf. And she knew that concealing them would be a must in Dale, especially if she wanted to make some money from the dwarves, before she moved on. But she had been able to conceal her lineage for a very long time now, so she was not worried about causing any kind of stir when she got to the city in the shadow of the Mountain. Not worried that she would be seen as anything other than just another merchant that had come to sell their wares at the Dale market. Yet all of that would wait, for now, she had a bowl of stew calling her name, and a good night's sleep, before she arrived at her destination on the morrow.