A Tale of Swords and Dragons: The Journey Begins. A 'The Hobbit' Fanfiction

Royalty

"I do not think now is the time, Oakenshield." I reply coldly, stepping around him and Gandalf and heading towards the Troll statues, the early morning light shining down on them. A large, rough hand grabs my wrist before I can move past Gandalf.

"Why didn't you tell us you were an Elf?" He demands harshly, earning a few curious gazes from the Company. Dwalin is staring at me with hate and suspicion as well. Oh, joy.

"What difference does it make?" I retort, glaring back at him. "You still don't trust me. Now you hate me as well."

"You're an Elf." Thorin spits at me.

"Not by choice!" I roar in his face, ripping my hand away from his grasp. Some Dwarves start walking towards us, weapons being raised, and Thorin's face begins to darken.

"Enough!" Gandalf bellows. Everyone ceases, though Thorin and I continue to glare each other down. "What does it matter that she's quater Elf? Elf or not she and Bilbo saved your lives. When she became free, she did not run and hide. She prepared herself to fight for you. To defend you! Has she not proved her loyalty to you?"

Mumbles arise from the Company. Thorin stares down at the ground in contemplation, his handsome features beginning to relax. Oh, not this again. Stop that thinking Zorina, now is not the time.

"How do we know that she won't betray us for her Elven kin?" Dwalin growls, spitting the word Elven out with venom and disgust, whilst talking like I wasn't there. Charming.

"First of all, her Elven kin are far north, above the Grey Mountains, far from her reach." Gandalf scolds the Dwarves like an exasperated parent. "Second, she is a highly respected member of her Dwarven clan - of all Dwarven clans in her homeland - a high ranking warrior, who is known for her loyalty, honour and unrivalled battle skills-"

"How high ranking?" Thorin finally speaks, turning to the Wizard. Gandalf glances in my direction.

I sigh in defeat. "I am the daughter of Thevoth, clan leader of Dûrgrimst Ingeitum." Thorin's head whips back around to me, eyes wide. I see a flash of recognition in his eyes as he remembers our talk about my Dwarven society. "Ruling Dwarven clan of Alagaësia."

A few whispers are exchanged among the Dwarves. "You're... royalty?" Thorin asks in bewilderment. "You're... a Dwarf princess?"

I stare at him blankly. "Yes." I respond flatly. He's about to reply when my attention shifts to Gandalf. "These Trolls must have come down from the Ettenmoors. But since when do Mountain Trolls venture this far south?"

"Oh, not for an age." Gandalf answers. His face suddenly turns thoughtful as he stares at me. "Not since a darker power ruled these lands..." I take one look at his face and I know what he's talking about. The great war with Sauron. He told me about it a while ago. But wasn't Sauron destroyed? The Wizard seems to notice my confused, curious expression. "They could not have moved in daylight." He mutters, changing the subject.

"Yes, they did seem pretty relaxed about where they were, even with daybreak so close." I ponder. "There must be a cave nearby. I'll scout out for it." With that, I walk away from the curious, flabbergasted Thorin and the startled group of Dwarves. Gandalf is used to my subject-changing tactics now.