Bloodstained (Thorin x OC)

Tanzen al Warg

After changing into her new clothes, which consisted of new fur boots, black baggy trousers, a dark blue and red tunic, a blue and silver shirt, and a thick belt, Agarwaen took to exploring a little, desperately needing to look at something other than gold. She didn't go far for fear of getting lost, but even so, there was so much to see.

The entire inside of the mountain was held up by massive stone pillars and tall smooth walls in each cavern. Patterns and runes were etched into the walls, some filled in with gold and silver.

Her new boots, much louder than that of elven make, produced echoes with each step, and for the first time since joining the company of dwarves, she felt small.

These halls were made for dwarves with pride and presence, dwarves who could walk into a room and bring with them silence and respect. She was nothing like them. No matter how much she tried to be different from her kin, she was still an elf, and instead of pride and presence, she held grace and poise. After being outcasted, she tried to prove to others that she was different from her race, that she could be rowdy and reckless. But was she really trying to prove it to them, or to herself?

Lost in thought, she continued on almost blindly up a flight of stairs that led to a landing, and then went up further in the same direction she'd come. Upon reaching the top, she found she'd stumbled upon a marketplace. Just like the rest of the kingdom, it was huge. Vendors were scattered throughout the center of the area, and shop entrances were carved into the walls.

Light filtered in from somewhere above, likely a hole that led outside, but the area was still slightly dim, as no torches or sconces were lit. It felt eerie, to walk through an abandoned market. Gold coins laid here and there on tables and on the ground, empty cups sat on the counters of vendors, and the goods at food vendors had rotted away or been absconded away with by rats. Fine silks and dresses hung on racks, dusty and faded, and cases of jewelry and beads were left open. The beads, it seemed, were sold in a majority of the shops, and she recognized the designs and shapes of some that were in the company's beards, hair, and braids.

Leather and metalworking shops were left with things strewn about, belts, scabbards, swords, and axes lying on the floor and covered in a thick layer of dust. The buildup of dust hadn't been as bad out around the vendors, but that was probably due to air coming in from wherever the light did.

As Agarwaen's eyes adjusted to the darkness inside the smith's shop, she could see the once freshly forged weapons. They were made expertly, with unique and useful designs and blood grooves. She picked up one of the swords, and was surprised to find it much lighter than she expected. She swung it around, discovering that it was one of the most well-balanced swords she'd ever held. Dwarves were skilled craftsmen indeed.

She put the sword back on its rack, and was about to leave when she saw a dagger sitting on the counter in a display case. It was made from steel, carved dwarven runes along the blade. The handle was black and silver, and a large black opal was set on the tip of the hilt. Agarwaen opened the case, picking it up to examine it. It was a little dull, but still a very fine blade. Could this count toward her share of the treasure? She needed a new dagger anyway. She picked up the sheath that was stored with it, and walked out of the shop.

"I see you've found the old market." She heard Dwalin's voice say, and looked up to see him standing among the vendors.

"I um...yeah. I'm allowed to be here, right? Because I can go back..." Dwalin shook his head.

"You're fine, lass." He looked around. "It's been so long since I was here. I was only a wee lad at the time, too. It's...different."

"When will your people start returning to the mountain?" She asked.