Chapter Text
Warnings: little bit of aggression but nothing crazy
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The road to Bree was dark, wet, cold, and murky. The exiled King Under the Mountain pulled his furs closer to his chin to ward away the chill, checking over his shoulder every few minutes. It seemed that more than one enemy plotted against him, especially as he traveled alone to meet with Gandalf the Gray. One can never be too careful.
In spite of his cautious glances, the dwarf was caught by surprise as a body slammed into him at full force, knocking him off the road into the wet mud. He scrambled to find his weapon, but his attacker had skillfully disarmed him and had a knife to his throat all at once. Breathing heavily, the exiled king could see nothing but a hooded figure looming over him.
"You should be more careful, Thorin Oakenshield. You have a rather high price on your head."
Thorin was surprised that the voice sounded feminine, but his face gave nothing away. He made no answer. His attacker chuckled under her breath.
"The king is lost for words? What a shame. I had hoped for a speech as grand as your legacy. This will surely make for a boring story when I deliver your head to my buyer." The figure cocked her head, blade still sharp at Thorin's neck. "Unless... you have another idea? Something to dissuade me from collecting my bounty?"
Thorin swallowed thickly, mortified at his condition but at a complete loss for other options. His attacker had him completely cornered. He tried to remain prideful as he spoke:
"Your alluding leads me to believe you have heard the prophecies spoken. That the King Under the Mountain will reclaim his throne, as well as his riches. Perhaps we might make an arrangement."
The attacker chuckled again. "Perhaps we might." Slowly, she withdrew her blade from the dwarf's neck and sat back, allowing him to draw deeper breaths but still unable to move. He could see the glint of his sword several feet away where she had discarded it. He calculated that she was much too quick for him to make a dive for it, so he must bargain with her.
"If you will grant me my life tonight, I will pay you twice the amount you would get for my bounty," he began slowly. Thorin wished he could read his attacker's expression, but her face was obscured by darkness and her heavy hood. The anonymity made him uncomfortable, but he pressed forth. "If you aid in my quest to reclaim my throne, I will pay you four times the amount of my bounty. You have the word of a king."
This time, the attacker laughed in earnest. Through her mirth, she ridiculed, "the word of a king, eh? A king with no throne, no people, no riches to call his own? And what will I be paid should you not succeed? Am I to trust a greedy dwarf at his word, here on a common roadside?" But even as she spoke, she lowered her weapon and lessoned the pressure that forced him to the ground.
"It is fortunate for you, Thorin Oakenshield, that the prospect of adventure and a change of scenery excites me more than a sack of promised gold. I accept your bargain. Henceforth, you may count me in your service to aid in your quest for your throne. I suppose it is your lucky day, providing you do not try to stab me in the back."
With this, the figure stood and gathered Thorin's discarded sword, handing it back to him. He nodded curtly as he rose and took his weapon, sheathing it at his side.
"You have my word. As you stated, the price on my head at the moment is quite high. Perhaps you might accompany me to my meeting in Bree. The quest will not go far if I am killed on my way there."
"Indeed," the figure agreed, a sense of mocking still plaguing her tone. "You may count me as your royal bodyguard."
With trepidation, the pair set off along the road, walking side by side. Thorin remained uneasy as they neared the gate to Bree, glancing out of the corner of his eye to ensure his new ally was indeed trying to protect him, not harm him. But she strode alongside him with an ease to her body language, her daggers sheathed at her sides. He wished he could read the tells of her facial expressions, but still they remained obscured.
At length, the pair passed through the gates at Bree and strode into the bustling local pub known as the Prancing Pony, where Thorin was to meet the gray wizard. He glanced around warily, not the least bit at his new companion who, after a decided look around, finally settled into a wobbly chair.
At last, the strange woman drew down her hood. Thorin was taken aback as he took in her appearance; somehow, it was not at all as he expected. Her eyes were at once cautious and relaxed, as though she were confident in her ability against any newly perceived foe. Her hair was charmingly tousled in a way that fit with her overall demeaner. He suspected by the shape of her ears and her stature that she was human. To his embarrassment, Thorin found he had to look away to keep from staring, as his companion was more beautiful than he had imagined. To his chagrin, this did not go unnoticed.
"Never seen such a lovely lady bounty hunter, eh, king?" she smirked with an over-indulgent wink. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it. It's a long way to the Lonely Mountain."
She's got that right, thought Thorin, looking pointedly anywhere but at her. What have I gotten myself into, here? He noticed a few unsavory characters lurking in the corners of the bar, some with a rogue eye on him. He quickly glanced back to the woman, and felt a slight relief that she eyed these might-be villains with a sharp eye. It seemed she took her new role as bodyguard quite seriously.
"Y/N is my name, by the way. Not that you bothered to ask." She leaned back in her chair, motioning to the waitress for an ale without taking her eyes off a particularly seedy man in a back corner.
"Y/N," Thorin repeated. It suited her well, at once daggers and honey. "I am grateful to have you in my company. Let us drink to the riches that await us."
Y/N met his eyes with a smirk, and toasted her mug to his. "To the unexpected journey ahead."
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Thorin still did not understand what on earth the company needed a burglar for. But even a king could not argue with the likes of a wizard, and thus he found himself at a squat table in the Shire eating off a fussy, floral plate set upon a neatly pressed doily. But though the wizard and burglar in question were present, as well as his most favored and beloved kin, singing dwarven drinking songs and passing around wine, Thorin's attention remained toward the round door hole, where the last member of their company was meant to arrive. Was she coming?
He didn't much care. They were all better off if she didn't, really. Capable though she might have been that night on the road to Bree, a female human could not have much to offer a company of battle-hardened dwarves and a wizard on an epic journey to a dragon-infested mountain of gold. Yet his curiosity kept him wondering if she would make good on her promise; after all, she had forgone his bounty to safe his life.
He had nearly given her up as a no-show when she came stumbling in, tripping over the doorway with a snort and swaggering into the dining room, hood down and knives tucked into their sheathes around her waist. The dwarven company fell silent at her arrival, all taking in her appearance with wide eyes. She stopped as she reached the table, looking around with her eyebrows up.
"Well, what's wrong then, pass the wine!" she cried with a laugh, and the whole company burst out laughing along with her, passing the bottle down. Only Bilbo, the Hobbit-burglar, seemed bemused by her presence; the dwarves pulled her to the table with raucous laughter and song, more or less anointing her as one of their company. Thorin surveyed the scene quietly, his eyes flashing to Gandalf's. The wizard looked at him quizzically, as if he hoped to understand something unsaid. Thorin looked pointedly into his cup so as not to meet Gandalf's gaze. When he looked up, though, his eyes met with Y/N's. She raised her goblet to him with a smirk and took a hearty sip.
"Well then. Let's go slay a dragon."