Dragons suck.

broodymcbeardking:

Thorin froze when the dragon mentioned the boar. A solitary dwarf versus a full-grown boar would be a very difficult fight. A dwarf and a very small dragon… might be more of a fair fight. Thorin slowly loosened his sword in his scabbard as he replied, also barely moving his lips.

“Agreed. You lead the charge.”

What was wrong with him? Agreeing to work with a dragon? When this was over, he would have to be certain to never speak of it to anyone he knew.

Not sparing a glance back, Loki stepped around Thorin in a wide arc. Swiftly, she moved from a walk, to a trot, then a canter, before putting on a burst of speed and leaping into the air, wings beating frantically -once, twice, three times- to get herself airborne. She went up and up in a wide spiral, keeping an eye on the boar as she rose, riding the wind.

It had seen her, a sharp blur above the grass that meant death. The boar ran, leaving a trail through the grass as it tried to escape, but it was futile.

Lokiande spun and dove at an angle towards her prey, claws extended. If she could land a hit, she just might be able to drive it towards Thorin. From there it was all up to chance, the power behind each of their attacks​ to bring the creature down.

She shot down, wings tight against her body as she crashed into the boar, bearing her full weight atop the animal. Loki roared and it bucked, tossing it’s head to try and gore the dragon, the two linked by her claws buried into it’s spine and sides. In an attempt to lessen her injures, the drake kept her head and neck raised high while her wings flapped madly to try and balance out the boar’s wild movements, and was able to avoid the worst of the boar’s attacks, but not all.

Both wings were scraped raw in places, at one point the edge of her right got trampled, and she was certain there was a gash along her jaw from where the two had briefly knocked heads. Claws raked repeatedly through thick, coarse fur in retaliation and came away bloody, then the pair separated.

Loki forced herself into the air, limbs aching and possibly bruised while the boar screamed in rage. Gliding low over the grass, the dragon made a beeline for the dwarf.

“Thorin, get ready!” She yelled hoarsley. The boar was not far behind, hunting the hunter.

Get ready? For an enraged board, mad with pain? There was a reason why boar spears had a cross bar; injuries would not stop a boar. Death hardly seemed capable of stopping them!

If they were in the woods he would have climbed a tree but they were on a grassy plain with no cover and no option but to try to kill the beast. Unless he could hit the beast in an eye, arrows would be useless against a boar’s thick hide and thicker layers of fat. He was not that skilled of a marksman! He’d have to use his sword.

If he died here, Dwalin would never let him live it down.

He drew Deathless and prepared to swing and dive out of the way. He’d be going for the beasts face, hoping to blind it with blood if he couldn’t destroy it’s eyes. If it couldn’t see them it would be much less effective.

Right?

Then it was upon him and there was no time for strategy, only action! And perhaps a bit of panic. The boar was enormous! He tried to bring his sword around but it was faster than he’d thought possible and he sliced it across the snout, instead of its eyes, causing the beast’s head to jerk and catch its tusk on Thorin’s jerkin, yanking him off of his feet and dragging him along with it!

What a sorry excuse for a dragon, Thorin thought angrily. THIS was the sort of creature that had rousted his people form their mountain and currently sat upon his throne? 

Thorin snorted and shook his head. That was more what he had been expecting to hear, actually. “Disheveled but still attractive? I appreciate your honesty, Bilbo. I could use a nap, that is certain.” He covered his mouth as a yawn punctuated his sentence.

“Ah, but what have you been up to today? For you look radiant to these tired eyes!“

“You do have a nice hair, among other features.” He confessed. He loved Thorin for beyond the dwarf’s looks, but he did admit that he found the dwarf to be rather handsome, disheveled or not. 

Thorin had to struggle not to laugh at the look on Bilbo’s face. “I see,” he said gravely, when he heard that it was Dain who had first gotten violent. “Dain will be banished from the dining hall for a week. He may take his meals in solitude in his room. I will see that this is done.”

How dare his favourite cousin try to lay hands upon his favourite hobbit? Dain had to have known such an action would bring retribution from the throne? Ah, such a hothead even now.

“And how are you, after being assaulted by my cousin, Bilbo? Do you need to see a healer?“

He sighed and sat down in a nearby. “I’m fine. He didn’t touch me. Though you might need to replace a table in the kitchen. It was more shouting and yelling with me. I don’t think he’d hurt me physically because he wouldn’t want to risk your wrath. But  even so I think Dwalin saw that Dain was looking for a fight and fought him for me before I knocked your cousin out. Not very sportsman like, but I’d rather not see the kitchen destroyed by some stubborn dwarves. If anyone needs healing, it’s Dwalin and Dain.” 

How dare his favourite cousin try to lay hands upon his favourite hobbit? Dain had to have known such an action would bring retribution from the throne? Ah, such a hothead even now.

She watched as Thorin socialised and talked with people at the feast, including female dwarves who had their interests in him, which made her jealous because during the journey to help Thorin reclaim the mountain she had fallen for him but couldn’t do anything about it since she in his eyes was an elf so there was no way he would see her more than a companion who helped him.

He intended to die stubbornly single.

Of course, Thorin was unable to keep track of every guest at the celebration and would have not known Elleth was silpping off if he hadn’t been out for a walk, trying to gain back some of his sobriety before going to bed. He almost didn’t stop her, after all, she was free to return to her home if she wanted to, but it was night and he did not feel the area around Erebor was, as yet, secure. Stray orcs could still be roaming under the cover of darkness.