Apologies, I was out of commission for a bit due to a torn ligament (the mencius) in my knee, oh the agony, and I am pretty much lazy. (What, you say? She does not write with her knee! Oh if only.) Oh I also found out I have accessory bones, thus the source of my clicking joints, eww. So I have an idea that may pop up in say the next chapter. Hannibal is my life now, waiting for R.A. to make his debut. Dolarhyde!
P.S. Aria looks like a cousin to the Sand Snakes, they are all so good looking and have a tangible, strong beauty, and not some super model photoshoppy kind. For me, at least, casting the OC w/ a celeb when the descriptions are vague-ish drives my brain a bit nuts. Like "what? who is this impostor? This is not the OC I imagined!" So I leave the image of her to you.
P.P.S. I'm using the Dwarrow Scholar Dictionary for translations, gods, I'm learning a new language. A PLUS SIDE is that I had a Dracula 2000 dream, so fun, I love Gerard Butler! His hair is sooo…ugh….total hairporn for me! Anyways, I hope that you enjoy this chapter!
*All rights to P.J. and Tolkien. *
Chapter 10- Get a Rhythm Pt. II
I look over to Balin who unravels the longest contract I've ever seen. He gives me a small smile and chuckles, "It's not the best I could have done, but it'll do for now, lass." I know the terms and conditions, death vs. survival, yadda yadda. Smiling a bit, I ask him to remove the part about having "1/15th of the treasure" which he promptly gives me an "are you crazy?" look but Balin does it anyways without any validation or explanation from me. "Well, now that it's settled let's go have a look at your horse. I see Gandalf made arrangements for you," he points towards the front yard where I see a giant black pony stomping it's hooves into the petunias. "Oh boy…" I mumble with a groan.
The first words out of my mouth when I laid my eyes on this beast was to question whether or not it was male or female (no way am I looking there, it's the polite thing to do anyways), and whether or not it would eat me. Honestly, I spent summers on a farm, but horses were not my forte.
Balin gave a little chuckle and proceeded to lecture me on the anatomy of equines and the 'equipment' they have. Of course my horse is male. Imagine Balin giving me the birds and the bees talk relating to horses, totes unbelievable, especially since the rest of the Company were within snickering and guffawing distance. I actually am capable of figuring out things gender wise, I mean female and male bits are practically all the same, figuratively speaking.
"So, lassie, it all comes down to what you are going to name him," he states, "like most things, be it weapons, kingdoms, or people, a name is more than words, it gives a personality, a life, a meaning to whoever it belongs to." Then I think of Thorin, Darer, daring this quest, his life for his people. It's a legit name for someone so brave and determined. Thus thinking of Thorin, I draw similarities between him and my horse, the luscious raven locks, stoic stare, and broodiness to name a few. If I called my horse Thorin then I am as good as gone. Bye-bye Aria. I step closer to determine his mood, the horse not Thorin. Being careful not to move too fast to spook it, I give him a little ogling when a brillo name pops onto my noggin train!
"Cash," I say resolutely with a smile on my face, " Johnny Cash." His ears perk up at the name and he gives a little stomp of approval with a huffy snort. "Hey! Look, he likes it!" Apparently the 'Man in Black' is a super star, whatever the timey wimey dealio is!
Not hearing the applause and shouts of glee I was expecting, small wonder why, I spot a few confused clocks amongst the packing dwarves and a scowling King, when a large heavy hand lightly smacks my back, almost pushing me face first into a patch of clovers, in support of the christening of Cash. Finally!
Clearing my throat in surprise, I turn around to find Kili grinning at the horse with an apple in hand while Fili hovers behind him, you know, just in case. "Miss Aria, are you able to handle a stallion of this size? You're such a small thing and all, compared to him, no offense." Fili remarks, Kili sniggers and Cash munches happily.
This horse is huge, he is a pony and in addition he is whopping 3 hands bigger than the others, yet he is the perfect size for me. Yay me!
"Well, yes. My late grandparents used to have a farm and I spent my fair share with them. Mostly time spent with the cats and younger animals, i.e. not the horses, since they were always wild ones, my grandpa was a bareback bronc rider!" I say with my chest puffed in pride to a puzzled dwarf, oh boy this quest means I have to step up and become a walking encyclopedia. "I'm sure I can distinguish the difference between a gelding and a stallion well enough, probably," at this the boys wince in sympathy.
"What is a 'Johnny Cash'? Is it a type of storage?" pipes in Ori before Kili asks what a bareback bronc rider is, who curiously blinks at me. "Oh my Gods! You have not heard of the Man in Black? You have not lived until you've heard him sing!" I heave a heavy sigh, hearing a crunching sound from Cash and Kili, who are both munching out on more apples.
"Ori, my kind sir, Johnny Cash is not a cache per se but music wise yes, yes he is. He is one of the greatest, umm, singers…minstrels?... who has ever lived! His voice is like rolling thunder…smooth as whiskey…deep as still waters…and with hair as black as night! Ahh...le squee!" I fangirl to myself, ignoring the concerned looks I get from the Company, Dori gives me a strange one-eyed look and steers a protesting Ori away from me; especially since Bofur's hat flaps around with the inquisitive look he gives Thorin, who is conversing with Dwalin and completely ignoring me, and the look he gives me. Did I just allude to having a voice/hair kink…that makes Bofur…think I have a…thing… for Thorin? Can't I fangirl in peace?
"What? Aye, Oakenshield has a voice as such, when he cares for a song! Hair too!" adds Oin loudly, adjusting his ear horn to listen, for better or for worse. As he walks off to pack his freshly made tinctures I splutter my words of denial and embarrassment hysteria until Bombur kindly steps in to pat my back and give me a nice flask of water.
"Don't worry Miss Aria, you wouldn't be the first lass to set their sights on our king. I reckon you won't be the last either," he offers with a cherubic ginger-covered smile that makes me either want to smack off or squish between my hands. With another sigh of defeat, I see the remaining dwarves (dwarrow? dwarrows? I know for sure the females are dwarrowdams. Looks like I'm not the only one needing a lesson) have already packed up and cleaned the 'smial' as I've just discovered what it was called.
How and why are these dwarves becoming so touchy-feely and nice? *turns to nonexistent breeze, cue Scarlett O'Hara voice* *Aren't I a stranger from far away lands who has no right to go on this quest? Directing my questioning gaze towards Gandalf's giant hat, he turns and answers my silent query.
"It appears, my dear, that staking your life on this quest and the amount of undying loyalty you pledged seems to gain their approval. By no means, Miss Aria, is this burgeoning trust to be dismissed so lightly. Dwarves are cautious beings but once their trust is gained, it is a lifetime of loyalty earned," he muses, "Now I must see to it that Bilbo's house remains unscathed from the shenanigans of the dwarves, their manners are as great as their rowdy antics. It should be fine, nevertheless."
Wow that is quite a nugget to ponder. Promising to help until your untimely death seems to gain favors fast, not to mention creating a great opening of friendships. Shouting out to Gandy, "Make sure the door is locked air tight, I don't want any Sackville-Baggins sticky paws on any heirlooms, or so help me I'll make living in Mordor a walk in the park compared to what I'll do to them!" Amidst chuckles of the Company, I miss the edge of Thorin's mouth lift a few centimeters in amusement.
Gandalf gives a small huff of disapproval after closing the wee door, paranoid me powerwalks to double check the locks. Lobelia Sackville-Baggins is a force to be chased with a broom, I've had only two unfortunate encounters with this unbearable hobbitess (she is no lass that's for certain, more like an awful Umbridge equivalent) who would glare at me at the market when I would pass, gossiping that I am some sort of dark witch here to steal their hobbit souls and good silverware. Hobbits are a gentle folk but cautious as well, not to mention that some can be viable candidates for "Real Housewives of Hobbiton: Whose Been in Your Garden?"
Most of them liked me anyway, since my bizarre arrival some took to calling me the "Walker in the Stars". Apparently my unladylike arrival through the river waters triggered my emergency light clipped to my backpack strap to start flashing strobe-like ("like stars, ahh," said one round Bracegirdle lad, thus the ragtag name); the name is entirely unnecessary and unwanted, I sound like a freaking cliché Native American. Although, the lovely moniker has allowed me to partake in the Bracegirdle's afternoon tea and apple picking day. Bilbo makes the most delicious apple pie!
Leaving my lovely mind palace I peek through the little round window spying the contract on the table. Sneaky wizard. "Miss Edgewater, if you are done dawdling, I suggest you get on your pony. We must make for Bree before noon," Thorin announces in an indifferent manner, "the 'burglar' (note the disdain) is no concern of yours, he's made his decision."
Torn between defending Bilbo whilst calling Thorin an assbutt and getting kicked out of the Company before I have the chance to pull the magic "I'm gonna save all ya'll" card I stick to my guns and scoff saying, "He is my father, not in blood but in heart, as good as blood if not better. He is my every concern and you would do well to remember that." My fists are clenched and his gaze intensifies, his hand grip the reins tighter before he takes a breath, relaxing his grip, becoming dispassionate once more.
Dwalin begins to protest against my insolence, whereas Thorin, with a weird look in his eye akin to the look you give a naughty child, gives Balin a look who then gives Dwalin a look who ceases and give a glare hot enough to rival dragonfire. Dang, they are totes BFFs for life, not even Sookie Stackhouse could break them up (she is such a B too! Harris I expected better, though I guess we all need a one like her in fics, * sighs *).
"Ifbiri!" With his stoic and unwavering blank face Thorin leads the group out of Bag-End. The dwarves group together by family, I noticed. Poor Ori was flanked by is brothers, with Dori fussing about. The Ur brothers are laughing about something, and Gloin scouts the land whereas his brother mutters about making more salves for sore muscles.
With a pounding heart and adrenaline rushing through my veins I give a look to Gandalf whose look tells me to fix this asap, ugh. I muster my courage and *gulp* figure out a way to apologize to Thorin. I get anxiety like crazy, honestly I can be chill when I want but being 'raised' the way I was there comes a time for panicking, for no reason AT ALL or for many reasons too. It all depends on when my wall of emotions comes down and I am forced to feel and let people in.
That's the difficult part, letting people in and just being suspicious all the damn time on whether or not they will hurt you. So sometimes I go into default mode and become indifferent and cold. I'm lucky Sean and Bilbo entered my life, because without them I'm sure I wouldn't have one to begin with. So I pull a Chandler Bing and hide behind my humor and sarcasm. Blocking emotions causes intense reactions I can't handle or not knowing how to act, which freaks me out a bit. Taking a breather, I ingrain the warmth and peacefulness of the Shire in my brain.
Casting the garden, the bench, the tree, the door Bilbo and I painted a week ago, and the nice view of the Shire once last grateful glance, I try to get on the saddle without looking like a newb and thank Kili and mostly Fili for saddling Cash up, they nod their heads and ride forward with the rest leaving me to bring up the rear. I guess bros before independent women or you know, family; which I can't bring myself to dislike. Honestly, men are more sensitive than they like to appear. Maybe I should do an insult/apology like "I'm sorry. And oh I love your armor it looks vintage, First Age, right?" or give a legit apology for sort of undermining him in front of his men (bad Aria, Alphas need to look cool always) but stick to my piece about family. While mulling over my thoughts, I hear Nori and the other dwarves placing bet on Bilbo's imminent arrival. Seeing as I have no income at the moment, spare a few coins I got from saving cats from trees and doing 'Big Folk" things to help out, I try to think of a way to join in when Bofur beats me to it.
"Hey, lassie, what do you think? Is Mister Bilbo coming or nay?" he offers with a grin, "60 coins split to the winners." I quickly nod and take his bet, knowing that I might get at least 12 coins, seeing as how Bilbo's fanclub is relatively low on members. Mamma needs a new bedroll and cool cloak of invisibility or just any kind in general.
Not 15 minutes after we left, taking the long, scenic route to the road leading out of Hobbiton and headed towards Bree, I hear a familiar voice cut into the low murmur of conversations. A burgundy coat and acorn buttons pop out of the woods waving a long piece of parchment, my Billy Bob is here to stay!
*Ifbiri- move forward.
Reviews welcome. Summer is halfway over and I barely put out one chapter. Bleh. It's like I'm so busy doing nothing, I have don't have time for anything. Jurassic World was amazing! Honestly, every time B.D. Wong intros a dinosaur you know some cray shiz is going to go down! Thanks for reading!