T.A. 2941- Rivendell
"You want me to what?"
Azanara sat, bouncing a small blond elf in her lap. The elf-child paid no mind to the two adults sitting at a table as he played with his wooden animals. The woman raised a brow, confusion ripe on her face. The old man shifted as her piercing golden eyes shot through his very soul. Dealing with her kind was always cumbersome, regardless of if they knew it or not. He pretended to suck on his pipe, his lips smacking together as he quickly gathered his thoughts.
"My dear," he started. "I think it would be beneficial to the both of us should you decide to join me in this simple journey. I can give you more lessons on using the magic of the Valar and I could use you as a bodyguard."
"And why does a wizard need a bodyguard?" Azanara rolled her eyes at the old man who bristled at the question.
"Well, it would not be for me."
"Oh?" That piqued her interest.
"I have someone very important that needs a watchful eye," Gandalf nodded to himself. "And I know you have the skills."
"Then do it yourself. I don't see why you need— Thalion." She looked down at the small elf bouncing in her lap. He had gotten to rowdy with his toys. He stopped clashing his wooden bears together as the sound of his name reached his ears. Beady blue eyes looked back up at her. Pleased, Azanara looked back to the grey wizard. "Besides, you can't expect me to leave my child here, do you?"
"Azzy, my dear," Gandalf peered at her sternly. He knew her and the elf-child well after the few years they had been living in Rivendell. He was too dependent on his adopted mother. "You and I both know that you have been coddling him too much. He needs to learn to be away from you."
She tsked. Yet, she knew that the wizard was right. "Fine. When are we leaving?"
The old man's face brightened at this response. "In a month. We're meeting someone in Bree."
T.A. 2941- Bree
He sat alone. His eyes set to the front door of the tavern and his back to the wall. He had mastered the art of impersonating commoners; yet even then, a lone dwarf traveling in Bree is cause for suspicion. Perhaps should have listened to the warnings of Balin— the attention he was getting was concerning. Yet here he was, waiting for a flighty wizard in the same crude tavern that they had previously met in. Thorin could feel the dark eyes boring into him mixed in with curious gazes and those of money hungry tavern wenches. There was more this time.
In the corner of his eye, he could see two whispering together, one with light blond hair and the other with a dirty brown head. The blond slipped away, ignoring the lustful hands reaching out for her. The other continued to stare. His eyes flitted away from the wench; his careful eyes landing on two dark shadows beginning to stand up from a table in the corner of the room. He needed to leave. Yet before he could move, the brown-haired woman sat next to him on the bench.
"You look lonely, Mister," the woman purred. She was close, yet not as close as working woman typically got to their clients. Thorin knew she was carefully distant for a reason. What did she want with him besides a payment?
"I'm waiting for someone," Thorin replied curtly. He glanced away from her to the men he had spotted earlier. They were watching him.
"For someone like me, I hope," the woman laughed, flashing her missing teeth.
Thorin groaned to himself. He should have just gone to his room. Before the king could tell the woman to stop wasting in her time, a stern hand landed on the woman's bare shoulders.
"Maggie, my dear," an old voice spoke. The man slipped two gold coins into her open palm before nodding in the direction of the two men Thorin had previously spotted. "I do believe your time will be better spent somewhere else."
"Thank you for your patronage, Mister." She giggled, turning towards Thorin. "Perhaps another time?"
"Maggie," the man warned.
She flashed him another toothless smile before meandering towards the two men. Thorin looked on with apprehension. The old man, with a gentle smile on his face, sat down across from him. The wizard had no concern for the woman, did he? "Are you sure that was alright, Gandalf?"
"She will be fine," Gandalf reassured him, watching Thorin stare at the woman leaving with the two men clinging to her side. Despite her current… occupation, she was still a woman and thus, Thorin still cared about her safety. "Besides, we have other pressing matters to discuss."
"Did you find us two more?" Thorin turned his attention to Gandalf.
Gandalf smiled. "So I'm presuming that the quest is still on?"
Thorin nodded.
"The fourteenth, I think I have found," Gandalf continued. "The fifteenth is joining you for sure. In fact, they are with me currently."
"Where's the fourteenth?"
"The fourteenth will be the burglar. He currently lives in the Shire, so we'll have to travel there."
Thorin nodded. "I'll have to pack again. I've been waiting here for a while, so I'll have to get more supplies. Then we can leave for the Shire."
"Uh, that won't be needed." Gandalf spoke quickly. He still hadn't met with the fourteenth yet! "I'll leave in the morning. Go to Bag End and look for my mark on the door."
"The 'G' mark?" With a nod from Gandalf, Thorin continued. "What of the fifteenth?"
"I'll leave her with you."
"I guess that works— wait," Thorin paused, shock running through his body. He couldn't have heard the wizard correctly. "Did you say 'her'?"
"Ah, yes," Gandalf shifted. "Her name is—"
"Azanara," a woman's voice cut through the air, her voice sharp and dark. "From my understanding, I'll be the one protecting you for this journey."
"I will not be having a woman—" Thorin's voice stopped; his brown eyes landing on the cloaked woman's beautifully golden orbs. Her soft features shone despite the shadows resting on her face. Her lashes fluttered as she stared onto him with confusion; a sleek eyebrow raised. Her hair was hidden from him, yet Thorin was fine with that. He shouldn't be ogling an unmarried lass's hair anyways. Yet his breath still shook, his body jolted. His mouth became dry and his tongue stiff. His soul rattled under her careful gaze and as she watched him with concern, Thorin knew then that this woman was not a dwarrowdam but a human— she would never understand the connection that he had just experienced. "I— I— I am at your service, my lady."
"I am no lady," she spoke to him, her voice still hard. She moved to sit down; her cloak spreading out to reveal a small portion of her body to Thorin. He tried glancing away, yet he couldn't tear his eyes away from sneaking a glance at her. Yet instead of a dress or even a wizard's staff, all his eyes could find was the flash of two bloody daggers. "I do apologize for being late, Gandalf. I was busy."
"Ah, yes," Gandalf smiled brightly, his expression completely different from the other two. He was too happy. "Well now that was taken care of—"
"Ahhhh!" A woman's scream cut through the air. The sight of a disheveled Maggie burst through the door. A hand pointed to the outside as all eyes in the tavern looked at her. "Two— two men have been k—killed!"
Men and hobbits alike jumped at her words. A small town like Bree can't handle lawlessness— Thorin knew they had to deal with issue quickly as possible. As a horde of men scrambled together to follow the woman, Thorin spotted the other working woman across the tavern. She was disturbingly calm.
"Oh dear," Gandalf muttered to himself. "Quite a commotion here."
As the last of the mob left the tavern, the blond woman made her way over to the three. She stood next to Azanara, slightly leaned over. The golden eyed woman rummaged through her cloak before pulling out a small bag. She plopped it into the other woman's hands. "Maggie's share is included in there."
"Thank you for your patronage, Miss." The working woman smiled before taking the bag. The woman wandered off, going over to real customers.
"As I was saying, before we were rudely interrupted," Gandalf continued. "Azanara here will be the fifteenth…."
Thorin's eyes moved from the retreating woman to the movement by the door as he ignored Gandalf. To his surprise, a large dog came strutting in, his tail proudly wagging. His head was down, but Thorin had a sneaking suspicion that this dog would be familiar to him. As the dark coated dog reached their table and the woman across from reached down, Thorin knew that the woman was truly his One. Golden eyes stared back at him— golden eyes that did not belong to the woman. There was no uncertainty. As the dog raised his head, the animal exposed his blood coated muzzle, the dark red shining against the candlelight. The dog let out a soft bark.
"Yes," the woman cooed as if to a child. "I know. Thank you, Red."