Mermaids Curse

Swords Play and Fateful Proverbs

"Do you trust her?" Thorin muttered to Gandalf. They were walking a little way behind the rest of the company and the Mermaid, who was chatting quite happily to Bofur and the Burglar. They were trying to describe to her what a flower was; apparently she had never been outside these caves. Not that he had been eavesdropping or anything. He kept catching himself staring though, his eyes would float around the cave, inspecting the oozy walls and the occasional creepy crawly that would scuttle around, but eventually they'd gravitate back to the water dweller.

Gandalf gave the Dwarf a questioning glance, "Of course." He paused, "You do not?" It was implied as a question but came out as more of a statement.

"She is a mermaid." Thorin responded rather gruffly, expecting his words to speak for themselves.

"So?"

Thorin shot him a bitter look, "A mermaid, wizard." He hissed.

"I don't see what you're point is."

"Have you never heard the stories? Luring sea men to their deaths, drowning them, and eating them!" He was speaking in a loud whisper and struggling to keep his heated temper, "They are malicious, vain, cruel, heartless, unloving, callous-"

Gandalf chuckled, interrupting him: "Oh stories yes, I do love a good story. In fact, it wasn't that long ago I heard a story about a dwarf who killed his entire family just for a few gold coins. I hear they only love what is drenched in gold." He gave Thorin a cold, pointed look and was clearly trying to make a point.

Thorin pursed his lips and quickened his pace to walk between his nephews who quickly tried to entice him into their conversation but to no prevail. His eyes had trailed back to the mermaid and his thoughts followed, eyeing her up for the fourth time in the last half hour. She swam alongside them, a few feet away in the deeper water. Her friendly, smiling face only seemed to annoy him. How innocent she seemed, totally clueless to the rest of the world with no real experience. She had this aura around her, a totally delusional one, like she lived and breathed in a bubble.

To give the half breed credit she had so far found them a safer, dryer path. The water only came up to their knees now, but the cold, wet sloshing in his boots was making him uncomfortable. He kept finding himself peering at her through the water, trying to get a glimpse of her tail, so far all he could see was a soft, murky glow beneath the surface.

"We should stop soon." He announced, catching the finned girls attention.

She turned round to face him in one swift movement, giving him a small smile she replied, "There's a small bank coming up, it should be dry."

He gave her a small appreciative nod and she turned back around. He suddenly felt slightly colder.

Soon enough the tunnel they were walking along opened up into a larger cave and through the dim light Thorin caught sight of a sandy bank, littered with rocks, pieces of bogwood and strange shells. It sat on the far side against the stone wall, only out of the water by a few inches, but it was dry.

"We'll rest here tonight." He said, dropping his items onto the slightly damp sand and began fumbling with his bedroll. He purposefully had his back facing the water, trying to avoid catching the attention of the half breed.

"We're running low on food." Bombur sighed after a few minutes, rummaging through his bags. Everyone grumbled at this. They were already growing impatient with their solitary, demanding (both physically and emotionally) environment and the strain that came with it was beginning to show.

"Then we'll ration." Thorin replied flatly, trying not to show his disappointment and kicking a few shells out his way. His stomach was rumbling and he was desperate for a large hot meal, especially after the day they'd just had. Straightening up he noticed his nephews looking round, a puzzled expression on their faces.