Heart of a Dragon

Chapter 3: The Song of the Mountain.

Elerìna had heard many stories about Thorin Oakenshield. He was a warrior, a noble king-in-exile, slayer of the foulest Orc who ever lived. He had founded the Dwarven colony in the Blue Mountains, he was the son of Thrain, son of Thror. But despite what the stories said, they did not prepare her for the truth that was Thorin Oakenshield.

When Gandalf opened the door, Elerìna was surprised when her eyes found a rather noble-looking Dwarf, streaks of white in his dark hair—he looked nothing like his companions. He wore a well-kept tunic, and a dark blue cloak flowed down his shoulders.

As he studied the scene before him, his gaze flitted over Kíli and a quick smile crossed his lips. Elerìna raised her eyebrows curiously.

'Gandalf.' Thorin greeted smoothly in a deep voice as he stepped inside. He was taller than most of the Dwarves, and Elerìna felt that his appearance did not disappoint his title. 'I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. I wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door.'

Gandalf shut the door behind Thorin, and Bilbo pushed through the bowing Dwarves to cry indignantly.

'Mark? There's no mark on that door, it was painted a week ago!'

'There is a mark; I put it there myself.' Gandalf said sheepishly. 'Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.'

Thorin stepped towards Bilbo, blue-grey gaze dark with judgement and doubt.

'So, this is the Hobbit.' Thorin mused, examining him critically as he circled Bilbo like a vulture. 'Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?'

'Pardon me?' Bilbo asked, perturbed.

'Axe or sword? What is your weapon of choice?'

Poor Bilbo, who had to say something, decided on. 'Well, I do have some skill at Conkers, if you must know, but I fail to see why that's relevant.'

'Thought as much.' Thorin looked at Gandalf with dark satisfaction. 'He looks more like a grocer than a burglar.'

Elerìna noticed Gandalf staring at her pointedly, so she stepped forward. Thorin's stare snapped to her, and his eyes darkened.

'Thorin, this is Elerìna Angolwen, our dragon-expert.' Gandalf said airily, but she noticed how his brow creased at the unforgiving look on Thorin's face.

'I thought you said you were bringing a man.' Thorin said slowly, the displeasure clear in his voice. 'Yet before me I see a woman.'

'A Man, Master Dwarf, not a man.' Elerìna clarified. ''Tis an easy mistake to make.'

Thorin's gaze fell clearly to her belt, where her hunting dagger hung, and then her well-worn boots.

'A man I would have tolerated, but a woman, Gandalf.' Thorin turned to Gandalf, vexed. 'You know we cannot take a Hobbit and a woman, both of which—'

'I suggest that you consider you next words very carefully, Thorin Oakenshield.' Elerìna interrupted darkly, drawing her dagger out halfway to show him. Thorin watched the blade slide back into its sheath with an unreadable expression.

'My bow and my sword are in Mr. Baggins' study, if that was what you wished to know.' She said, watching him carefully. 'And I will use them if necessary.'

Thorin's eyes narrowed at the threat, but he did not say anything more to Elerìna.

'Now then,' Gandalf clapped his hands together. 'We can come to business.'