Chapter 8 - There's an Inn

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

Laire jerked herself back into the discussion going on around her. Elrond was looking expectantly at Gandalf, sending her the occasional glance. Neither Gandalf nor Thorin could come up with a reason that was not their true purpose.

"Tis an expedition of academic purposes, much of the past knowledge and most famous tales lie in the lands of the West." The lie rolled off Laire's tongue with ease, the ability to spin stories unprepared was a task that came easily to her after many years as a Ranger.

Elrond seemed to accept her answer for now, knowing he would not receive the truth so easily. Thorin, who appeared to be growing uncomfortable with the sudden interogation rose from his seat and made his way down to his kin in hopes to obtain some relief from the uneasiness of the situation.

Gandalf and Elrond rolled into a conversation about the company the Wizard was keeping, Gandalf doing his best to vouch for the Dwarves' antics and behaviour. Laire and Aragorn turned into their own hushed conversation, which consisted mostly of Aragorn teasing his elder sister.

"He is staring at you."

"Shut up."

"Are you blushing?"

"Shut up."

"Oh you are definitely blushing."

"Shut yer bloody mouth ye flee-bitten mongrel rat!"

Aragorn snorted, more than satisfied with the rise he got out of her, he opened his mouth to bait her further by was cut off by something almost as equally amusing. Almost. Bofur had climbed up onto the plinth that sat between the two tables and began to sing a ballad that was far too vulgar for the usual Elvish taste

"There is an inn, a merry old inn
beneath an old grey hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
one night to drink his fill.

The ostler has a tipsy cat
that plays a five-stringed fiddle;
And up and down he saws his bow
Now squeaking high, now purring low,
now sawing in the middle.

So the cat on the fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle,
a jig that would wake the dead:
He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune,
While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon:
'It's after three!' he said. "

The other Dwarves joined in and began a fully fledged food war. While the Elves looked on in disgust, Laire slouched in her chair in laughter with Aragorn, Gandalf on the other hand was meekly smiling at Elrond.

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Later that evening the Company; with the exclusion of Thorin, Gandalf, Balin, and Bilbo, were spread around a low balcony that overlooked a grass covered courtyard. Laire and Aragorn were sitting on the steps across from one another bickering between each other in Elvish, occasionally Laire would kick her leg out and hit his shin when Aragorn said something that irritated her.    

"So lassie, where exactly did Gandalf find you? Your joining of the Company seemed very last minute." Bofur wondered, voicing the thoughts of many of the Company.

"Aye it was a bit. Gandalf found me in this tavern a wee further south of Bree, not the nicest place in the world but they pour a decent ale." Laire remarked.

"And what's a good, honest Ranger like yer self doing in a tavern?" inquired Nori.

Aragorn snorted at the mention of 'good and honest', to which Laire kicked and glared at him.

"Well ye see, the thing about being a Ranger is it's not the most profitable of occupations so I would make a bit of gold where I could, doing what I do best, fightin'."

"You are a tavern brawler?" Kili marvelled.

"When I feel like it, aye." Laire responded. The obvious thing with Laire was, that she never did anything unless she felt like it. Though she never shied away from duties, if it was not of dire importance, then it would have to wait for Laire to feel like it.

"Are you any good?" Gloin asked.

Laire scoffed and looked at Aragorn, "'Am I any good?' Would ye get a load of this lot brother."

Aragorn shook his head and chuckled, "Then perhaps a demonstration is in order, sister?"

There was a chorus of agreements from the Company members as Laire bounced her leg eagerly.

"I think ye might be right, brother. Care to do the honours?" Laire jumped to her feet enthusiastically, Aragorn following to the grassy courtyard.

The Dwarves all shuffled to the stairs and balcony rail to get a good few of the two siblings, a few sceptical of the height and size difference between the two.

"Are ye sure about this, lassie? He is a fair size bigger than ye are." Gloin asked unsure.

Laire rolled her shoulders and looked back over shoulder with a careless grin. "Aye he's big, fought bigger." Her attention turned back to her brother, "Ye know the rules little brother, first to pin the other for five counts. Loser has to run through Fangorn."

Aragorn seemed to almost hesitate for a moment but regained a determined expression and nodded.

"Five gold on Laire." Fili called settling down on the stairs to watch.

"Five? Is that all I'm worth?" Laire scoffed jokingly. 

The other Dwarves exchanged a few bets, the more sceptical choosing to back Aragorn because of the size advantage he had over her. 

"Are ye ready, wee brother?" Laire challenged, readying herself into a stance.

"Are you, sister?" Aragorn leaped forward and swung his right arm aiming for Laire's head.

The red-haired woman ducked under and spun a swinging kick to block his other hand and landed a solid front kick to Aragorn's chest. The younger sibling stumbled back but quickly regained his balance as Laire advanced with a few punches which he blocked and returned his own.

"Are ye pullin' yer punches, brother? You must really want to venture through Fangorn." Laire teased.

 Aragorn faked a swing to Laire's head and instead landed a blow to her stomach, not as hard as he could, but hard enough to make an affect. A few of the Dwarves grimaced at the blow, but Laire smiled devilishly and lunged forward and stomped his foot and kept him in place as she landed and uppercut to his chin and then swung her elbow around to connect with his jaw.

Aragorn stumbled backwards, his balance lost as Laire thrust a kick to his chest that sent him onto his back. Laire knelt over him with one leg on his chest to hold him in place.

Laire grinned cockily as she began to count aloud, "One, two, three, four, five. Consider yerself beat, wee brother, again."

The Company clapped, cheered, and exchanged money as Laire pulled Aragorn to his feet.

"Ye know, one of these days ye may actually beat me. Nay who am I kidding that will never happen." Lair grinned and ruffled Aragorn's hair who protested and pushed her away.

Fili gazed at Laire fondly, he'd never met anyone like her before. She challenge so many things he once believed, made him question the things he once wanted. All he could think of her was, 'What a woman.'       


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