Here's the OC, hope you like :)
Loaren rode behind the king of Rhun and wished that she would not have to stay in Erebor for too long. She was a child of the sun, she needed its warmth and the feeling of being alive. She hated the cold and the dark, for it made her feel dead. Looking back to the East, Loaren had to admit, that her old home had become cold and dark although it was no mountain. The shadow had grown stronger during the last weeks and the people were scared. Not even the immortals and their myth could stand again a threat that was not elusive.
With a deep sigh, Loaren pulled her golden mask over her face. She liked to hide behind the mask, which granted her more freedom as any other item could. As a woman, she had only little worth in her culture, but her fighting skills and her intelligent mind had made her earn the respect of her men during the last years. They were loyal to her, as loyal as they all were towards the people who paid them.
Loaren was in fact the bastard daughter of king Dario or to be more exact, the outcast bastard daughter who had to serve her father in a different way now, living the lowly life of a simple soldier in the eyes of her father. In truth, Loaren loved this life and did not miss one day of her life as a priviledged princess. Her father had tried to force her into marriage, but she had resisted. She had repelled every suitor and had even broken a few noses, until not one man in Rhun wanted to marry her. In the end, the king had threatened to disinherit her and banish her from his kingdom if she not married the man he chose for her. Loaren had still resisted and had been forced into exile. During that exile, she joined the immortals and remained unrecognised thanks to the masks they were all wearing. She had managed to reach a high rank within the immortals and was accepted by them as their leader, despite her gender which was finally revealed, after many years. Her mentor, a man from the far east, heavily tattooed and very traditional, was her second in command. His respect meant more to her than any emotion her father would show towards her and she returned to her former kingdom as the leader of a group of deadly mercenaries to face her king. King Dario, calculating as he was, had chosen to show her no mercy, but Loaren had not expected any. So she accepted the punishment of being sent into the dark and cold dwarven kingdom as the captain of the deadly mercenaries from the east; she only felt bad for her men, who had to suffer because of her. No, Loaren shook her head, her men had to suffer because of the king's greed.
As the Lonely Mountain appeared in front of the delegation in all its glory, Loaren closed her eyes in defeat. The gate of Erebor was gaping at them, threatening and dark. Taking a deep breath and taking a last glance towards the warming sun, Loaren followed her king through the gate.
With her face hidden behind her mask, Loaren watched her surroundings closely, as well as the dwarves which inhabited this mountain. The dwarf who greeted them was friendly and polite and Loaren flinched as king Dario dismissed his politeness so rudely. With her eyes darted to the floor in shame, Loaren followed the dwarf and her king into the throne room. She was grateful that the mask also hid her emotion, for she could look at the wonderful architecture in wonder without showing how impressed she was. Many of the pillars were broken, as well as the statues and even the throne, but after the attack of the dragon, this damage seemed minimal. The green stone gleamed warmly in the light of the torches and the walls reflected a warmth which had a calming effect on Loaren. It seemed as if the mountain was not as cold as it looked from the outside.
Loaren soon focused her attention on the dwarf who was sitting on the throne. His hair and impressive beard were of a red colour, like lord Dain´s, which was understandable, for they were cousins. But there was something about the dwarf that bothered Loaren, it was his bearing which made her suspisious. He showed an arrogant pride worthy of a dwarven king, but he did not radiate the untouchable royal charisma which Loaren had expected. Trying not to move her head too much, Loaren looked at the other dwarves in the throne room. The guards were brutal looking dwarves with grim expressions. The left guard was tall for a dwarf and bald. He had as many tattoos as her mentor and the same bearing of an experienced warrior. The other dwarf had grey hair which was braided comlicatedly, which told Loaren that he was very vain, but then again, all dwarves were vain when it came to their beards. During many skirmishes with the dwarves of the Iron Hills, Loaren had learned that dwarves were not to underestimate. Despite their smaller size, they were fierce fighters and worthy opponents to the immortals. Balin, the dwarf who had greeted them at the gates, stood to the left of the throne and exchanged a quick glance with a tall dwarf with black hair and blue eyes, who was standing on the far left. Loaren was impressed by his aura and his bearing and she could not look away. There was something about him, something that called out to her. She was so captured that she did not see the small hobbit who stood behind said dwarf and watched her closely. He could see her own bearing changing from relaxed to alerted. Before Loaren fully understood what she was doing herself, she moved towards the dwarf with the black hair and saw him frown at her. She prayed to the Gods that her instincts had proven her right and knelt down on one knee in front of the dwarf. She could hear various gasp behind her and hoped that she had not forfit her life. But she was sure that she was kneeling in front of the real king.
0
As the real king was revealed, Loaren walked back to her place behind her father. She knew that she had embarrassed him, but she did not care. His arrogance and disrespect towards the dwarves angered her and she wished that the negotiations would not take long. Dario should just take his gold and leave. She watched the dwarf king carefully and could see the doubt in his eyes. He knew that he had no chance but to accept her king´s offer, but she could tell that he was reluctant. He had no reason to trust her or her men, on the contrary – she knew that the reputation of the immortals was not a good one. They were respected for their skills as warriors, but nothing else. No honor, no emotion and no loyalty could be found in an immortal, this was what people were thinking.
Maybe, the king´s distrust would save her from a life under this mountain, but suddenly, Loaren was not sure if she wanted to go back to Rhun. Life in service of her father was nearly unbearable, his greed and his egocentric rule were hard to bear and she had to watch her people suffer every day. The dwarven king had honor and a heart, Loaren could see so much, even if he hid his true self behind the deep frown. Loaren could tell that he despised her father for the treatement of his people and that Dario´s greed disgusted him. Loaren had thought dwarves to be greedy all her life, but king Thorin seemed to value other things above gold. Things like friendship and loyalty. His advisors were more than just his subordinates, they were his friends and his confidants. Loaren had never witnessed such a relationship between a king and his people and that made her feelings about staying in Erebor shift towards the positive side. She wanted to step forward and offer her services to the king, but in the last second she stopped herself. If she talked, her gender would be revealed and she would lose the protection and anonymity of her mask.
She remembered that dwarves spoke a sign language called Iglishmek and decided that she should give it a try. The young scribe who was called in to translate could help, but Loaren noticed that the hobbit who stood at the king´s side could understand her as well. He smiled at her forwardness before the scribe had even finished translating.
Loaren was surprised about her father´s discretion, but then she realized that he probably only acted that way to secure his amount of gold. Female warriors would probably mean less gold in exchange. Loaren hated the old fashioned thinking of her people. Females were bound to the house and the family, they were inferior to men and had to bow to their orders. Serving in the military was only possible if the female was an outcast – like herself. She had a few women in her troop, all of them were former thieves, whores and throatcutters, but they had found a more honorable profession in the lines of the immortals. Is it truly better to be a mercenary than a thief? Loaren banned the dark thoughts from her mind. This was not the time for selfdoubts.
Loaren did not know much about the culture of the dwarves, but she knew that there were only few females and that those few were even more protected than the gold in this mountain. Never would a male dwarf allow his sister or daughter to fight alongside him in battle and maybe also die alongside him. Losing a female was a disgrace to a dwarf and Loaren did not want to oppose their way of thinking with her presence. She only hoped that they would never find out.
0
In the end, the negociations had run well, but Loaren had not said another word. She had noticed that the scribe had looked at her with huge eyes once in a while during negotiations, but she had not dared to look back at him. Her mask frightened people, she knew that and she did not want to scare him - or her. Loaren was not quite sure about the scribe's gender.
It was agreed that the horses would find a warm and comfortable place in the royal stables, which had been occupied by rams before the dragon had killed them all. The stables were spacious enough to fit all the horses and the immortals would see to it that their horses were kept fed and were looked after.
The immortals would not be in need of own quarters, for half of them would be on the road between Erebor and Ered Luin and the other half would secure the mountain. They would sleep in the lower halls. Only Loaren and her second in command got own rooms, but mostly because they needed a study for planning and writing their reports.
Loaren sighed as she stepped into her room. It was dark and dusty and there were only two torches on the wall. The room was big enough to contain a middle sized bed, which looked like a double sized bed for dwarves, a desk and a small bathroom with an own drainage. There was no window and Loaren immediately felt depressed. She would not stay in her rooms for a moment longer than she had to.
King Dario was to leave soon and Loaren slowly walked to the gate to watch him leave. Her real expression under the mask showed less emotion than the golden grimace, she had stopped caring for her father long ago. The fact that she felt that way almost scared her. Her mother had died long ago, she did not even remember her and her father was the only family she had left. Still, she felt relief as she watched him ride away without looking back, behind him the carts full of gold and his armed royal guard.
When the caravan was gone, Loaren took a deep breath and looked up into the sky – she would miss the sun and the wind on her skin. Ironically, the wind did not even reach her skin because of the armor and the mask. With a sad smile, Loaren turned her back to the outside world and moved into the dark.
0
'Hello...you there...immortal captain...oh bother...´Loaren stopped in her tracks when she heard someone call out to her a few days later. The hobbit, Bilbo Baggins was his name, ran towards her with an almost embarassed smile on his face. ´I am so sorry, but I have not caught your name before.´
Loaren had to smile at the hobbit´s skill in diplomacy, but she would not fall for the hobbit´s clever words and his alleged innocence. He was not the only skilled diplomat and observer. Fixing the hobbit with her gaze, Loaren started speaking.
"My name is of no importance and I know that you understand me."
Bilbo tried to not look caught, but then he smiled.
'Yes...sorry about that. How did you know that I understand sign language?' Bilbo asked.
"Your eyes betray you."
'Well, you found a way around that.' Bilbo looked at her mask and still managed to sound friendly.
Loaren was not in the mood for small talk, she could see that the hobbit meant no harm, but she had work to do. And, to be honest, she feared that the hobbit would find out her secret.
"What do you want, master hobbit?"
Bilbo smiled at that and held up his hands. ´I apologise, I am just curious. I have never met an immortal before. You should know that I...we...are really grateful for your service.´
"It is nice of you to say that, but that is a lie." Loaren smiled ruefully. "The dwarves do not trust us and for good reason. We are mercenaries, we fight for the one who pays us."
Loaren winced at her own words, but she had learned that it was easier to keep people at a distance instead of forming relationships or even friendships. Easier for them and easier for her.
'But as long as the king pays, you will be loyal?' Bilbo did not seem to be apalled by her behaviour.
"Of course." Loaren sighed. She needed to leave before the hobbit broke through her defence. King Dario paid them well, but the prize he had taken from the dwarven king had been ten times as much.
'That is good to know, we...the dwarves of Erebor need you and your men.´Bilbo looked up at Loaren and she could see earnest worry in his eyes.
"I hope that the king values your loyalty." Loaren made ready to walk away and this time the hobbit did not hold her back. But she could feel his gaze in her back as she walked away.
'How did you know that king Thorin was not the dwarf sitting on the throne?´ Bilbo called out after her.
Loaren smiled under her mask and turned around one last time and her answer made Bilbo chuckle.
"He is every inch a king."