Chapter 6
Randell and Thorin walked to the front of the city in silence. Thorin kept thinking back to the warrior that stood at the front of the small blacksmith hut. He did not seem to be much taller than himself, but there was something about him that made him look like a giant. His armor seemed to shine in the low light and his helm made him look monstrous. What a strange helm.
"I wonder, if you could answer a question of mine," Thorin said finally as the prince came into view. He was seeing off the group of elves. Thorin tried to keep a smile off his face as he watch Prince Annodred over exaggerate his bow and receive a smack on the back of the head from his father as he stood back up.
"If the answer is one I can give, I will answer it to the best of my ability," Randell said as they stopped and waited for the elves to disappear from view.
"Why was Dragonshield in his full armor? It can't be very comfortable." The plate looked heavy and warm in the day's heat. It was not often that you saw a man walk down a city street in full plate.
"That is how he always looks," Randell said with a shrug, "They say he was badly injured during the battle with the dragon and his helm and armor cover the scars from the dragon's flame. You would have to ask the prince; he and The Warrior are good friends, have been for a long time now."
Thorin knew he would have to befriend the prince to get the information he needed. This did not seem like a difficult chore, the man seemed friendly enough.
When the elves crossed the gate, Prince Annodred turned and smiled at Thorin, "It seems you have gone from a prisoner of the elves to the guest of a king."
Thorin looked at the man curiously, "How is this?"
"You have been invited to my father's table for dinner, esteemed Thorin Oakenshield." The prince tried not to laugh at the look of shock on the dwarf's face, "Oh yes. We know who you are. The elves revealed it to us before they took their leave."
Randell stared at Thorin in shock, "My dear Lord, had I of known…I..," the man's words faded off in to sputters as he bowed low before the dwarf.
"Your reputation precedes you," the king stepped forward and gestured to the great stone building behind him, "My son has some duties he needs to attend to, but my daughter shall show you to your quarters."
"Good King, your generosity is overwhelming, but I do not wish to darken your home with my presence," Thorin said as he bowed his head before the king.
"Darken my home?" the king said in shock, "See here, I will not have a dwarf lord living like a common criminal. Forgive me, but I am not elf and you will be treated as a guest of my house."
With that the prince and the king turned and walked into the house, leaving Thorin alone with the princess.
It was the first time Lothriel had actually looked at the dwarf. He was tall for a dwarf, but still a few inches shorter than her. His dark hair was long and wild, framing his face with two small braids. He had bright blue eyes and a rough face that betrayed a man who had spent many years on the road.
"If you will follow me, my lord, I will lead you to your room and you can wash up." She bowed her head and turned away from Thorin to head into the great stone building.
The dwelling was no caverns of dwarves or great palace of the elves, but Thorin could acknowledge the beauty of it. He could see the art work of his people in the intricate carvings that covered the walls and pillars. The setting sun lit of the hall making the painted stone shine. Thorin let his eyes wander as the princess led him through her home. She stopped suddenly in front of a great wooden door causing Thorin to almost run into her.
"This is where you will be staying my lord," Lothriel as she opened the door and turned to face Thorin.
"You do not have to call me 'lord' my lady. I am but a dwarf," Thorin said as he stepped into the room and looked around. The bed looked inviting and he saw that a bath of hot water was already waiting for him.
"Are you not Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain?" Lothriel asked simply.
"Well, yes." Thorin turned back and studied her. Her face held only an expression of mild curiosity as she waited for him to continue, "But a king without a kingdom is no king. I am no lord, your highness."
"A mountain is just rock and stone," Lothriel said as she bowed her head, "My lord."
As the door shut behind him, Thorin thought about the princess's words. They were wiser than what he would have expected from a princess that lived on the edge of an elven kingdom.
He stripped off his clothes and laid them in a pile. He was not terribly careful with them; the elves had taken his furs and his traveling clothes and had clothed him in rags made of an itchy brown materiel. He slipped into the hot water and sighed in relief as the heat relaxed his aching muscles and soothed the bruises and scrapes that covered his battered body. A bar of soap had been set out for him, it smelled of the forest; and while he had experienced enough of the forest for one dwarf, he welcomed the feel of clean skin. He ran the soap through his hair until the mats were gone and his hair fell neatly passed his shoulders. He stayed in the bath, enjoying the warmth, until the water had all but gone cold.
As he stepped from the water, he noted a towel had also been left for him, along with a clean pair of clothes. He dried off his head and body and wrapped the towel snuggly around his waist as he walked over to see the clothes that had been laid out of the bed. The shirt was black and felt as though it was made of silk; the pants were an equally dark color. He dressed and redid the braids in his hair. The material felt strange on his skin, these were not the usual garments of his people; he was used to the wool and furs that were worn down in the mines and in the underground caves.
A guard met him in the hall and with a bow led Thorin to the dinner hall. As he neared, the sound of laughter and jest met his ears. The guard stopped before a large set of wooden doors and bowed once more to the dwarf. Thorin bowed his head in return and pushed the heavy doors open revealing an extravagant dining hall.
"Thorin!" the prince's voice carried over the music, "come, sit."
Thorin could not help but smile as the prince gestured to the chair next to him and began filling the plate with chicken, ham, cheese, and grapes. The smells coming from the table were enticing as he took his seat and took a drink from the goblet of wine that was set in front of him.
The food was the best Thorin had tasted, or so it seemed since he had been living on the leftovers of the elves like a dog. The music was strange to him. People danced around playing strange horns and beating on drums as the family ate.
"Better than an elf dungeon, eh?" the prince said cheerfully as Thorin took a bite of chicken. Thorin swallowed his food and laughed.
"Oh, aye," he could think of many things better than an elf dungeon, but he could not think of a better alternative than a warm bath and a good meal. Thorin turned his attention to the king, who looked upset about something as he stared at the empty chair across from the prince.
"Don't mind my father," Prince Annodred said as he looked in the same direction, "my sister is late for dinner. Again."
Thorin nodded his head in understanding and went back to the food in front of him. The meal reminded him much of the meals in the halls of Erebor; there was much laughter and many stories were told. An argument carried from the other end of the table over the voices of those around him.
"Oh please," a gruff voice boasted, "The Dragon Warrior is worth at least one hundred soldiers of Gondor!"
The room went silent as the dinner guests focused on the men at the other end of the table. As the noise died down the men looked around, flustered as they realized they were the center of attention at the moment. Their argument did not hold the room's attention very long; after a few moments the people were back to laughing and eating.
Thorin turned to the prince, "Tell me about this Dragon Warrior."
The prince puffed out his chest as he wiped his mouth on the rag in front of him, "You have asked the right person for information on him. I am somewhat of an expert, I guess you could say."
Thorin emptied his goblet of wine and settled into hear the prince's tale. Just as Annodred opened his mouth to speak, the doors of the hall opened.
