!HEADS UP! This is going to be a bunch of one-shots and funny character interactions that I am inspired to write about. So BE WARNED there will not be a solid plot to this nor will it make sense if you try and connect the chapters . . . well some might but it is unintentional. I will give backgrounds, and other things I think about while writing each chapter but hopefully they won't be too extensive. So please enjoy my spurts of imagination!
DISCLAMER I do not own The Hobbit or any of it's characters (Thorin and Dwil)
Ok so with this one it is self explanatory and all that plus it is being told by the older version of my OC. OH and also I am going off the movie because I have yet to read the book . . . I know I know and I am sorry.
There was a time when a dwarf kingdom was taken by a dragon and all its people were forced from their homes to travel the lands and work where they could find it. That was when I was 13 years old, old enough to go where I wished in the village, but oblivious enough to the outcomes of wars and quests.
One day the dwarfs showed up in my village and I wanted so badly to meet them. I could approach any of the women and men, well as long as they were with one of the women. But there was one dwarf that seemed to be untouchable. He was a blacksmith and a skilled one at that. His shoulders are brad and his face focused and full of nothing but his work. I once saw him pound out a two inch thick blazing piece of metal within only a few moments of working it. Sometimes I thought that he was pounding not only with that iron hammer he held but with the will in his cold gray blue eyes.
I would pass the smiths shop every morning to help an elderly couple and each time I would pass I would take a few seconds to watch him work from across the road. The sparks of the metal hitting his bare arms made me flinch every time and the heat of the fire could be felt from where I stud. The smell of the coals was almost unbearable but the heartbeat of the hammer and the singing of the metal was worth to come home and smell like coal. One day I decided to stay a little longer than normal think that if he hadn't noticed me yet he would never notice me. But as if he had heard me say my thoughts out loud I found my brown eyes meet with his steel gray ones. I stud there wide eyed watching him as if he was pumping the bellow wrong and like the little girl that I was, I ran. I guess I was hoping to cool the fire on my cheeks with the cool wind but I couldn't stop thinking or blushing for the rest of the day. Every day after that as I watched him work, with his burning metal and his shining hammer, I stared at his eyes trying to force them to look at mine. Every so often he would grace me with a glance and small twitch of the corner of his mouth as if to thank me for admiring him.
One day the elderly couple let me go early seeing as one of their grown children is over for a visit. So I decided what I would do. I would go and meet this smith. For days I had been planning a way to great him and a line to say afterward but with each step I took closer to the smith's shop a word would slip form my mind and be lost in the mud under my feet. When I finally arrived I was finally able to swallow the lump in my throat because I saw that there was someone else talking to him and giving me more time to think and calm my nerves. When I turned to walk away I heard a crash and a thud of a body hitting the ground. The dwarf had fallen and the humans he was talking to were laughing down at him.
"What is it you dirty old dwarf? Can't seem to find your footing?" By the rough tall looking man's laugh I could tell he was drunk. "Here let me help you up!" The man grabs the dwarf's arm and slings him into the street. He rolls roughly to the ground and stagers to his feet holding two large hammers in each of his black hands. I have never seen him so tired and worn. Every time I would lay eyes on him his hammer would never miss a beat and he stood tall. But now his arms shook revealing the true weight of the hammers and his shoulders slumped as if caring a heavy burden. "Oooooooo looky here lads," the drunk's other three companions were laughing so hard they were bending over and holding their sides, "the little man wants to fight with the big boys!" What brewed within me was something I didn't expect, anger that my own race would treat such a hardworking man like this and courage to stand out from the crowd and yell.
"This dwarf is a bigger man then all you four combined!" Though the flaring fire in my belly burned like the fire in the smith's shop none of the men heard or even looked up at me. A fiery in my core spread to my chest and I felt as if I could breathe fire. The drunk brute took the first swing when the fight started I could tell the dwarf was not up to his best; almost like he hasn't slept in days. "STOP IT!" I pushed through the gathering bodies to get in between them but a hand from the crowd caught my upper arm before I could even reach the edge of the forming circle. I struggled to free myself but the strength of a 13 year old agenst a full grown man has hardly any comparison. I hear the clash of steel and a thud on the ground. I look up to see only a second of the fight. One of the dwarf's hammers is on the ground and the man above him laughing and staggering like the drunken bastered he is with a broadsword in one hand and a bottle in the other. "NO!" Though I screamed at the top of my lungs I knew no one could hear me over the roar of the crowds talking and laughter. Finding the feet of my holder I muster enough strength to break his toe and shrug his grip off my now bruised arm. I fall to the ground when he lets go and I crawl to grab the hammer at the edge of the circle. With the drunkard's back turned I drag the hammer in between the dwarf and human and swing it at his ankles to sweep him off his feet. I turn to find the dwarf on the ground his limbs shaky and his long black hair stuck to his head bloodied. "You are no man," feeling the venom of my words dripping from my lips I drag the hammer over so that I stand in a little more defensive position between the dwarf and human; "you are more like the scum on the bottom of my boots!" His three colleges help him stand and as thanks he shoves them out of the way and one onto the ground.
"You little shit! Get out of my way!" He raises the sword, which could be mistaken for a raged metal rod and is stained with the dwarf's blood, to strike me. I try to raise the hammer high enough to deflect the attack . . . but the strength I had left me when I met his demon crazed eyes. He swings the rod close enough at my face that it cuts my cheek and broses my shoulder. "Damn you, you bitch!" The drunk stagers and falls off to the side as people move so they wouldn't have to touch the filth laying at their feet. I start to drag the hammer over to the dwarf but when I look back he is gone. The blood ran from my face as the thought creeps into my mind.
Has he left me behind? I jump about a foot in the air when a hand touches my good shoulder. I quickly turn around, lose my footing, and fall back on my butt as the handle falls on top of me.
"Hand me that handle will you lass." I look up and see the dwarf with flying sparks in his steel gray eyes staring the drunk down. I push the handle up and the dwarf takes it with an iron grip. "Push back lass," he then swings them both up and beat them together with a failure thud and ring of the steel beating steel, "I don't know how messy this fight will be." As I step back the drunk finds his footing and also finds my eyes.
"YOU LITTLE BITCH!" I flinch at his words, feeling the sting on my cheek and the throbbing on my shoulder. "You stand still, so I will not miss this time!" It was as if he didn't see the dwarf between us when he began to run at me. With the deep roar of dwarven words the dwarf spins, hits him in the stomach, and then knocks him out with a blow to the head. Waiting to see if the man would get up, the smith raises his hammers again as if they are swords of the lightest elven metal, and stairs down the other three drunks, daring them to take a step closer. When the three run leaving the defeated leader behind the crowd dissipates and the dwarf slowly hunches his shoulders.
Dropping the hammers with two different thuds the dwarf turns to face me and drops to his knees. Seeing his whole body go limp I run to him and catch his torso before he could land face down in the mud. "Thank you lass," The dwarf's voice is as warm as the dying embers of a fire that was once raging and much kinder then the harsh hammers and burning steel he works.
"Where do you live? I will help you there."
Putting his arm around my neck I stood him up on two feet as he told me that he is staying in a camp a mile out from the town. His wounds were not deep but still bleed and I do believe he had broken a rib or two considering he winces every time he breathed. We had just left the edge of the town when he finally spoke. "What is your name?" His voice is close to that of my fathers in the sense that it is tired and seems to realize that he is stuck where he is now because of fate.
"Charlene, daughter of Dorian." We walk on as the dwarf's limping became worse. For a time I thought that if he fell he would take me down with him. He could barely keep his eyes open and I was desperately searching brain for something, anything to talk about. But again he spoke first. Haha I was such a little girl back. then
"I thank you again for your help, Miss Charlene." I look him over again and realize his fire is dying fast and I can't bring myself to make him move any faster.
If only I had brought my pony. "Sir Dwarf, I do not deserve your thanks, I am doing this to repay you for saving me from that brute." Focusing my eyes on the faint glow of campfires and my ears on the soft hum of voices and music I will some of my energy into the battered man beside me as if it would reach him.
"If you hadn't stood up for me I wouldn't have found the strength to defeat him. So you do deserve my thanks." About a fourth mile from the camp was when he starts to wheeze and rely on me to stand. I look to see why and the first thing that caught my eyes was the trail of blood staining the side of his pants. Following the train upward My eyes settle on a round stain that covers his whole side, and then I see the deep cut.
"Oh my god!" I brace his fall with a hand on his chest but that only pulled me down with him. "Why didn't you tell me you had this kind of injury!?" He braces himself with a hand on the ground and his other covering his wound as I stood and yelled. "HELP! HELP US PLEASE! THERE IS AN INJURED MAN HERE!" I can see the camp clear enough but my voice mustn't have reached their ears. I help the dwarf lie down and put my bag under his head. "Please tell me your name."
"T-Thorin . . ." His breathing is heave and his eyes are closed tightly no doubt because he was trying to breath with broken ribs. I squeeze his hand and let it go to run up higher on the hill.
"PLEASE HELP ME! YOUR KIN THORIN IS BADLY HURT!" Not a moment later I hear the cries of ponies and the galloping of two racing to us. I search franticly for the two riders and wave my arms and jump so that they may find me in the darkening light. "OVER HERE!" As the ponies ride up the hill I run to Thorin "Thorin keep awake they are on their way please don't close your eyes."
"I will be fine Miss. Charlene." He puts a relaxed hand on my cheek and closes his eyes. "Go home and do not worry." His rough hand begins to slide off my face as the ponies ride over to us.
"Thorin!" My voice mixes with two dwarfs come up on either side of the fallen dwarf and myself. One is older and has a graying beard whereas the other looks to be younger then Thorin and a brown short beard. The older one who is much quicker than one would have thought comes up beside me and checks him over quickly.
"We need to get him to the doctor." Both of the dwarfs are carful to pull him up and carry him to the ponies
"Let me come with you please!" Standing and following I clench my hands so tightly I can feel my short nails sink into my older dwarf put his hand on my shoulder speaking again.
"Sure you can little lass, but you ride with me." Walking over to the young dwarf the old man says. "Ovo ride as fast as you can to the camp." The older dwarf helps Ovo put Thorin on his pony. Ovo got on behind him and galloped to the camp.
"Hurry sir we have to catch up to them!" I run over to his pony startling it a little bit in the proses.
"Slow down little lass! Master Thorin will be just fine you need to slow down and catch your breath!" The old dwarf climbs up on the short and fury stead and grabs my hand to help me up to sit behind him. "My name is Dwil, what is your name, lass?"
"Charlene."
"Well Miss Charlene, let's get you to the camp and get a little bit of food in you." He rides slowly to the camp and as we are half way there I can see a few men helping Thorin off the pony and into a tent. "You see little lass he will be taken care of." It settled my nerves a bit so see Thorin being taken into the tent and the slow steps of the horse kept my mind off of unpleasant thoughts that would sneak into my mind.
So thoughts or criticism? Please, please tell me! : D