#thorin

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Taryn had arrived in Bag-End just in time.

The night's high spirits had long since died down. The lights inside the Hobbit-Hole dimmed and the cheers you could hear from down the hill quietened. It seemed like the right moment for a grand entrance.

Taryn shifted in the leather of her new boots. The wizard's mark on the green door shone the moment it sensed her presence, leading her towards the house of the burglar.

She attempted to steal a glance of its insides through his window, but saw nothing of importance. Shivers rolled down her spine the moment she rose her fist to knock on the door.

The shadow she cast over the green door straightened over the rustling sounds heard from inside. The laughing stirred again. Softly, she brought her ear close to the door.

First, she cringed over the smell of new paint, then focused on the jests inside.

"Thought as much," she heard someone sneer, and pace around. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar" the tone was authoritative, but mocking.

She rushed to the small window once again and squinted. Everybody seemed to be already there. The shortest one, clearly the Hobbit, had an insulted, yet perplexed demeanor and the one walking away from him was most probably the jester.

That was not how you treat a host.

Before he could make it to the dinner table with his fellow dwarves, Taryn recognized the royal blues of the House of Durin on his polished coat. Something told her that it was no other but the leader himself—Thorin Oakenshield.

What an entitled bastard! Taryn scoffed, as his kin rushed around to please him.

His coat was taken from him immediately after he unbuttoned it, the chair was dragged for him and food and ale were set on the table with utmost reverence.

They were one step away from feeding him like a baby, Taryn tried to amuse herself in her indignation.

With her jaw clenched still, she knocked, then attempted to fix her hair quickly.

"Do they ever stop coming?!" she heard someone complain through the door before it opened.

Her elegant, calculated gaze rose without any rush to meet the Hobbit's. His mouth fell open and his fingers froze on the doorknob. He blinked rapidly as he took all of her in—long limbs and graceful figure, high cheekbones and slender neck.

A woman—not a short, stocky Dwarrowdam, kin with the ones already inside, but a human woman in every right sense of the word. His little head was filled with questions.

The corners of Taryn's mouth twisted upwards.

"May I, Master Baggins?" her eyes travelled down towards the door sill, while her head stayed in place.

The Hobbit snapped out of it by shaking his head and stepping aside.

She gave him an appreciative nod as she entered, her smile widening.

As she removed her cloak, spitefully forceing it over Thorin's, as if choking it, she asked "Did he insult you?"

"Excuse me?" the Hobbit inquired, dumbfounded

"Thorin Oakenshield. Did he insult you, Master Baggins?" she turned fully to him.

"I-erm..I suppose so? Lady..?"

"Taryn" she said calmly.

"Bilbo Baggins." he introduced himself then joyful exclamations were heard from the Dwarves—"Ah! All of them! All of them!"

"Nice meeting you, Bilbo." she said fleetingly as she walked purposely towards the shouts.

The Hobbit, oddly quiet, trailed behind her.

She was one of Gandalf's fanatics! he was more than sure.

"What do the Dwarves of Ironhills say? Is Dain with us?" Taryn heard while maintaining her pace—she had a piece of her mind to share with this Thorin Oakenshield!

"They will not come," by the time that was said, Taryn arrived to see the back of the one speaking, sat at the end of the table.

She examined the faces of others. All of them were Dwarves of different ages and bearings. In the storm of new faces, her eyes found a familiar one. And it wasn't Gandalf's.

For the sake of the Hobbit behind her, Taryn attempted to keep her composure, but the live memory of rough touches and sweating skin popped into her head involuntarily.

She drew in a sharp breath.

Her eyes, trained for the art of seduction and deceit, remained emotionless, yet her mouth was slightly agape. A voice inside her head tried to argue, there was no way it was him, it couldn't! Yet every part of him matched perfectly with her memory, to his balding head and curved beard and mustache to the thick layers he wore.

As if he felt the weight of her gaze, the Dwarven warrior she spent her last night at the brothel with rose his eyes to meet hers. He turned pale as he recognized her. She was obviously shocked, but not as stunned as the warrior. His bushy eyebrows knit together, as he swallowed the lump of guilt stuck in his throat. Taryn's poise did not falter this time, her lips even turned into a smirk.

She didn't know if the leader saw his friend shift in his chair or that her last step, tighter, louder, framed her, but in that moment the Dwarf at the end of the table turned around frantically and set his gaze upon her.

The warrior was quick to cut the eye contact, his stare turning back towards his leader, whose eyes visibly narrowed, his lips pressed together in dissatisfaction. Whispers and nudges brewed around him as he weighed her presence.

He scrunched his nose subtly when he faced her fully.

"Gandalf" he addressed, the scowl obvious on his face as he discarded her.

Not at the Dwarf from the brothel. Do not stare at him. Do not look at him. Focus on the situation at hand.

"I believe I told you the presence of any apprentice of yours is unnecessary." Oakenshield spat out and he wizard began blabbering some excuses.

This man insulted the Hobbit, now he seeks to insult you too. Do not let him. Have him learn that he cannot say anything he wants to anyone he wants. Do not stare at the Dwarf from the brothel.

She paused at Oakenshield's reveal. Gandalf had not been faithful to his word and announced her presence and introduced her as an apprentice instead of letting her do her own thing, as she insisted. Even more, from the Dwarf's aggressiveness, they also had an argument about it.

Scolding herself for trusting in the Wizard once before, she removed her murderous gaze from the pair.

She pursed her lips, using the moment to take another look at the ashamed Dwarf warrior and clasp her hands behind her as she took long, quiet steps toward the mutterings.

It is what it is. You cannot reverse your actions, but you can assert yourself.

"Good, because I am not his apprentice," All Dwarves turned to see the woman looming over their leader, who stared up at her unwaveringly.

"I am a whore." she said with a shrug.

Oakenshield's gaze darkened and the conversation around the table brewed.

Do not stare at the Dwarf from the brothel.

"Tha's unacceptable!"

"What is she doin'ere!"

"Who allowed 'er in!"

"She an Elf-Spy! those pointy eared-"

"Shazara!" the leader ordered and every tongue was bitten.

Taryn tilted her head.

"I do not know what your purpose here is, lady, but this is not the place for you to parade theatrics -"

She clinked her tongue. "Theatrics? Perhaps you would trust your friend to confirm what I am" She stared at the Dwarf from the brothel.

Thorin turned towards the direction of her gaze, dumbfounded. Her stare only made more questions and accusations arise from the table.

"Did ya bring 'er here?"

"Has she got into ya daft head, brother?"

"This is treason!"

"Is she a witch, Mr. Dwalin?"

Thorin froze and tried to convince himself that his old, faithful friend wasn't involved in any of this. Yet Dwalin's dismissing behaviour told them everything they needed to know, though.

"Ah, ah, that would be enough!" Gandalf finally intervened, trying to stop them by setting a barrier between Dwalin and the rest with his staff.

"That is anything but enough" Oakenshield's chair scrapped against the Hobbit's floor then he rose threateningly though there was barely distance between them for him to do so. He threw Gandalf a murderous glare before turning his attention back to the woman. This cursed woman, bewitching his men with no shame...

He crossed his hands to create more distance and intimidate her once they sat at the same height. Anger brew inside him.

Taryn barely bit the inside of her cheek, her amused gaze travelling between Oakenshield and the guilty Master Dwalin.

"You will state your identity and purpose, witch" he scorned, not daring to believe Dwalin even attempted to mix with those of her kind, even less to have thought he would divulge the secrets of his kin. The presence of this foul woman was nothing but Gandalf's involvement, he was more than sure.

She licked her lips as well as a decade or so in that brothel has taught her. ! "Oh, I am somebody else every night, ask-"

"Did you bring her here?" Thorin's head finally snapped towards Dwalin, but he knew the answer of his oldest and dearest friend before he even got to open his mouth.

"I haven't spoken more than two words in her presence, Thorin, I swear on my beard!" Dwalin was quick to defend himself "Her arrival has nothing to do with me, you'd think I'd betray my kin for her kind?!"

Taryn chuckled and shook her head before Thorin could further accuse Dwalin. "Listen to your little friend, it is Gandalf who was brought me"

"If you truly had 'im you wouldn't call him little, lass!" a voice then roared from the table and earned several laughs.

Taryn threw her head back in amusement as Thorin silenced them once more. The woman rolled her eyes before commenting

"It was a good joke but, fine, have it your way, Thorin Oakenshield" she emphasised

"This journey has a far greater purpose than to see you swimming in gold, you know."

"Which is...ah...yes... ridding Middle Earth of another evil. So do not believe yourself to be so important, 'cause you're not, really..." her quick pace and lack of filter made Thorin fill with rage.

"You will mind your tongue-" his accusing finger rose to point at her

"Now, now, Thorin. I believe we might've set off on the wrong foot..." Gandalf cut him off and Thorin scoffed at the amount of times he's been interrupted tonight.

Taryn rose a brow at Gandalf's intervention and brushed Thorin's finger off.

"The wrong foot?!" Thorin then turned towards the wizard "You bring your apprentice without my notice then you reveal the secrets to our quest to this shameless witch? Mahal knows whom else she serves!"

Taryn cringed at the apelative once again and found herself speaking again "I would much rather prefer the term-"

"You are not in the place to negotiate your standing...witch." Thorin was quick to cut her off.

"Gandalf vouched for Thorin Oakenshield" she licked carefully, scanning the room sutbly "The legendary King in exile of Erebor. But there is nothing legendary about you."

"Taryn-" Gandalf began. Thorin, feeling up in his ivory tower, signaled him to let her speak.

"On the contrary, I don't see much." she spoke calm

A low, dangerous rumble echoes in his chest. The Dwarves around the room shift uncomfortably. "You have a sharp tongue for someone who stands alone among my kin."

The corners of her lips rose slightly "I don't need backing if I want to call out something that bothers me. However you..." Taryn looked suggestively between him and the Hobbit "you treat your host with such disrespect." she forced out the most polite retort she could.

Thorin lets out a short, sharp breath that is almost a laugh, but holds no humor "You defend this halfling's honor? We eat his food and drink his ale. That is respect enough"

Taryn parted her lips to keep arguing, only to be stopped by the meek voice of the Hobbit intervening.

"Uhm...excuse me...I wouldn't want to intrude, but uh...quest?"

Gandalf smiled at the Hobbit's instinct to separate and said as to stop all the conversations that began to brew "Bilbo, dear my fellow! Let us have a little more light!"

Oakenshield locked his gaze with Gandalf's, whose eyes urged him to get on with it. He sighed and sat down, crossing his arms.

Taryn bit the inside of her cheek in order to hide her smirk. She retreated to the right and leaned against the arcade that stretched over the Hobbit's dinner table, Thorin's stiff back facing her.

The wizard began unfolding an old map and explained "Far to the East...over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak..." He pointed on the map.

The Hobbit leaned closer, over Oakenshield's shoulder and read: "The Lonely Mountain"

"Aye!" Agreed a red headed Dwarf "Oin has read the portents.. and the portents say it is time."

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold" Oin, as he was called began explaining of his own searches.

The corners of Taryn's mouth twisted upwards. Ravens...'my raven'...her gaze travelled towards...what was his name? Ah, yes...Dwalin.

"When the birds of yore return to Erebor... the reign of the beast will end"

These pals seemed obsessed with the dark feathered birds. An obsession Taryn did not understand yet, but planned to find out soon enough. She was more than sure the answers will be...delicious.

"Uh, what beast?" The Hobbit interrupted

"That would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible" A dwarf with a funny hat clarified. "chiefest and greatest calamity of our age"

All dwarves looked around uncomfortably as he continued, moving his pipe around while speaking "Airborne fire breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks"

While sucking on the inside of her cheek, Taryn observed Thorin's unusual shift but did not dwell on it. He had been too much of a jerk earlier for her to sympathise.

"Extremely fond of precious metals..."

"Yes, I know what a dragon is" said the Hobbit.

As all gazes turned towards Bilbo, one of the younger dwarves rose to his feet and loudly announced "I'm not afraid! I'm up for it! I'll give him a taste of Dwarvish iron right up his jacksie!"

Before Taryn could sketch a smile, the Dwarf in his right calmed and sat him down.

She drew a sharp breath before doing a quick sum up: the deaf one was Oin, the young one was Ori, the one she laid with was Dwalin and the stiff one was Thorin...Nine more to go.

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