Bloodstained (Thorin x OC)

Blood and Bruises

Agarwaen then parted from the party, and walked upstream for a while before finally sitting down to separate her crusty bloodstained clothes from her skin. She laid all her weapons down where they were easily accessible, and began the painful task. She peeled the browned fabric from each cut, each scrape, clenching her teeth in pain as she did. Once undressed, she looked down at herself. Covered in bruises, scrapes, and cuts, she wrinkled her nose in disgust. She hadn't been this beaten up in quite some time. She hissed in pain as she stepped into the cold water, undoing her braid, which had practically fallen apart by now, as she waded deeper. She tossed her leather tie near her clothes and dunked under. The water around her turned a murky brownish red as the river started washing away what was left of the challenges of last night.

She wondered what everything would be like, now that Thorin had accepted her into the group. Camp would probably be more tense now, less merry than it used to be. She liked listening to their drinking songs and laughter from afar. It reminded her of her first year adventuring. Young and bold, wanting to be anything other than the perfect elf she'd been for the first 450 years of her life. She often visited notable taverns, drank herself silly, and joined in with everyone's drunken shenanigans. Singing horribly, dancing around, having a jolly time. Then woke up the next morning miserable, and everyone went back to their sad miserable lives on the farm or at the forge. But the dwarves didn't need mead or ale to be happy. They just seemed merry all the time when they were around friends and family. Sure, they do love their drinks, but Agarwaen wished she could find merriment in everything as they did. It made life interesting and bearable. To laugh, joke, and have a love for each other as they did. She contemplated staying apart from the group still, in order to keep hearing their happiness despite the circumstances.

After climbing out of the water, she washed her clothes in the river, and then dressed her wounds with some bandage from her bag. Her pants however looked unsalvageable, being torn everywhere from the fall and goblins grabbing at the already existing holes. She tossed it aside and decided not to waste her time fixing it. She did not spend too much time drying in the sun, due to the dwarves still being near, and pulled on her other tunic and pants. She carried her boots, bag, and wet shirt back to where they agreed to meet her, and waited.

~~~~~

"Enough Oin, I'm fine." Thorin grumbled, pulling his arm away from the dwarven healer who insisted on patching up the king's wounds. It had been a while since they'd gotten into the river, so they began to spread out along the riverbank. A few still remained in the water, but Bilbo and Gandalf sat farther away and had a smoke, and Oin started to tend to everyone's wounds.

"I'm heading back, don't let them take too long." Thorin muttered before taking his shirt and weapons with him back to where they'd left all their other belongings. He began to wonder if maybe now he should officially include Agarwaen in the company. Maybe Balin still had an extra contract lying around, but doubted it. He doubted she would want to join anyway, especially this late in the venture.

He couldn't keep his mind from wandering back to last night, and wondered how even after falling and climbing back up again, Agarwaen was able to fight like she did. Perhaps it was just some kind of talent given to the elves. Being able to move with such agility and grace, even after being severely hurt. As he thought about the elf, more questions that he forgot he had came flooding back. If she wasn't from Rivendell, then why did she talk about it like it was her only home? Didn't she have her birthplace? Was she from Lothlorien or the Grey Havens? And was there a reason behind why she left besides boredom as she claimed? He figured he'd get his answers in time, as few could resist telling stories from their past around the fire at night.

Agarwaen sat against a tree trunk, her long hair still wet and clinging to her face. She was trying to sew her shirt back together, but with her fingers all torn up after falling and climbing up the mountain, they kept bleeding whenever she tried to stick the needle through. While focusing on her painful task, she barely noticed someone approaching until she saw movement from the corner of her eye. She looked up to see Thorin, shirtless, with a bandaged middle with blood faintly seeping through the wrapping in the shape of bite marks. Even though she tried not to, she quickly looked over his strong, well built and battle-worn form. What caught her eye most of all was a dwarven design tattooed on his right shoulder. She looked away when he noticed her and he quickly pulled his still damp shirt over him.