The dark-haired dwarf soon introduced himself as Kili, the blonde one as Fili. Elle eagerly smiled at the two of them, while Jasmine shrunk from the two dwarves, retreating further into her hood. This poor girl, she thought with a smirk, watching as Jasmine's cheeks, darkened by the shadow of her cowl, flushed when the dark-haired dwarf looked at her. When the dwarves find out why their burglar is really here, they'll have a field day with her execution.
On the other hand, if the dwarves ever found out what she was doing here, she'd likely be killed too.
She had to be careful. They both did.
At that moment, more voices from just beyond the hill rose into the air, causing the four of them to look towards the horizon for the impending visitors. Elle saw the shadows of a large grouping of dwarves cross the hilltop, and then their owners, bearded and burdened with heavy bundles of luggage, follow along after them.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Fili and Kili waving excitedly to the rest of the dwarves, their faces giddy with youthful bliss. She smiled, their happiness seeming to radiate from them like rays from a sun. Behind them, she saw Jasmine, sulking on the hay bale, her gloved hands grasped around the handle of her daggers. If the girl couldn't control herself around these dwarves, her cover would be blown in an instant.
But that was all well and good for Elle. The more socially incompetent her opponent was, the easier it would be to sweep in and get what she wanted.
Which was exactly what Elle always got.
As the last group of dwarves finally reached the stables, Jasmine felt her skin prickle. Why do I still feel so angry? It had been so many years since that fateful day, and yet she still saw the faces of the dwarf rebels in the faces of every dwarf she'd seen since. She still heard the screams of her parents every time she heard a dwarf speak. She still felt the tense, putrid air of the underground torture chamber whenever a dwarf was within a few feet of her. She knew she should move on. But she couldn't.
There were eleven dwarves in the group that had just arrived, Jasmine counted, her eyes easily spotting Thorin, what with his regal stature and fur-lined robes. He looked her way, his eyes gliding over her and Elle, locking onto the eyes of the Sage for the briefest of seconds. Jasmine smirked. Elle's plan was working splendidly if Thorin already felt an affectionate tug for the young half-dwarf thief. If he only knew what she planned to do once she had caught him in her lustful snare.
"Who are they?" asked a few suspicious mutters and whispers from within the crowd of newly arrived dwarves as their eyes followed Thorin's gaze, lingering over the two women.
"They are our burglars," Thorin said flatly, clearing his throat and tearing his eyes away from Elle's green ones.
"Burglars?" A dwarf with a tattooed scalp exclaimed, emphasizing the plural meaning of the word. He sniffed the air, his eyes flicking to Jasmine. "And they're women." He said this last bit as though it were a curse.
Jasmine bristled, her hands flicking to the knives she kept strapped to her belt. Without thinking, she unhitched one of them, hurling it forcefully at the tattooed dwarf, the blade hurdling slicing through the air with a satisfying tearing noise. The dwarf just barely managed to catch the knife out of the air before it embedded itself in the side of his head.
The group was silent for a moment, all heads turned towards her.
"How dare you?" the tattooed dwarf demanded, taking a menacing couple of steps towards her.
Jasmine growled. She knew she shouldn't have thrown that knife-heck, she might have just destroyed her chances of earning a place in this company already. But she didn't care. She wouldn't sit around and let someone-a dwarf, especially-insult her and her capabilities.
The dwarf advanced on her, brandishing his axe. "I'll have your head, I will!" he screeched, the axe carving through the air between them, heading straight for her neck.
"Dwalin!" Thorin barked, stepping forward to block the attack.
Dwalin paused, turning to look at Thorin, seeming more like a child scolded by a strict father than the commanding, forceful dwarf he had appeared only seconds before.
"Jasmine," Thorin glared at her, his narrowed eyes peering past the veil of darkness that her hood provided and staring straight into her own dark eyes. Gulping, Jasmine averted her gaze. But she could sense that Thorin had not done the same.
"This crazed lunatic is our burglar?" Dwalin exclaimed. "I'm sorry, Thorin, but I think you've made the wrong call here."
"I hired Jasmine and Elle as our burglars," Thorin began, his slitted eyes snapping between Jasmine and Dwalin. "And if any of you-our new burglars included-cause any havoc, I will have you removed. Understood?"
Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Jasmine nodded, trying to ignore the pressing stares of the other dwarves.
"Your horses, Thorin Oakenshield," the bartender from the previous night emerged from the stables, leading a group of ponies behind him.
"Thank you," Thorin replied, gratefully taking the reins of the nearest pony and mounting it. "We ride at once," he commanded his company.
"What about Gandalf?" his nephew, Fili called.
Thorin paused. He had forgotten all about the old wizard. "If he does not show up by-"
"I'm here, I'm here," Gandalf's familiar voice echoed past the stables, as his cloak-clad body followed with it.
The wizard's eyes stopped when he reached Elle and Jasmine, who were standing a little ways off from the group. "Ah," he said, stepping towards them. "You must be our burglars."
"Yes," Jasmine replied, her voice dripping with annoyance. She seemed not yet to have calmed down from the incident with Dwalin.
"The Wraith? The Sage?" The wizard glanced between the two of them, smiling kindly. "You are most welcome here."
"The Wraith?" Dwalin snorted. "The Sage? What are they, circus performers?"
Thorin saw Jasmine restrain herself from reaching for her daggers again out of the corner of his eye.
He needed her expertise. But if she couldn't control herself…
Sucking in a breath, Thorin called out to his company, "Mount your horses! We ride now!"
Jasmine, being one of the tallest of the group, had been given given a real horse, while many of the others were given ponies. She smirked, watching Dwalin fussing with the reins of his unruly pony. It was immature of her, she knew, but she couldn't help but stifle a laugh at the sight of the burly, grim-faced dwarf atop an innocent, furry half-horse.
They had been riding for several hours, but Jasmine had been careful to keep to herself. After the incident with Dwalin, the dwarves seemed eager to steer their ponies a good six feet away from her.
All of them, it seemed, except Kili.
The dark-haired dwarf and his horse (being a particularly tall dwarf, he had been awarded a horse as well, something that he was rather proud of) were inching ever closer to her, making her grind her teeth in discomfort.
Up ahead, Jasmine noticed Elle riding alongside Thorin, their heads turned towards each other, obviously engaged in conversation.
Elle, you little sneak, Jasmine thought, and tightened her grip on the reins. She'd need to control herself if she wanted to stay in this company. Elle, with her perfectly measured emotions and carefully spoken words would be hard to beat, but Jasmine could do it.
Probably. Maybe. Perhaps not.
"No one's ever done that before," a voice next to her spoke.
Turning, Jasmine found herself facing Kili, who had maneuvered his horse so that they were right next to each other.
"What?" Jasmine asked, confused. Her daggers fell at her sides with each gallop of her horse, tempting her, calling to her. No, she scolded. Not now. You need to have control.
"Earlier," Kili elaborated. "When you threw the dagger at Dwalin. No one's ever had the guts to face him like that."
Jasmine rolled her eyes. "Still going on about that are you?" she muttered, turning away.
"No, I mean," Kili stammered, his eyes widening in alarm. "I mean, it was neat. What you did." When she turned back to him, eyebrows raised, he added, "Just between you and me, I think Dwalin kind of needed it. He's been a little to egocentric lately, and needed the perspective." When he saw her smile, he grinned back.
"Thanks," she said slowly.
Kili looked back at her, his lingering gaze making her squirm. She could see his eyes squinted slightly, trying to make out her face through the darkness of her hood's cowl. "Do you ever take that thing off?" he asked, gesturing to the hood.
"No," she snapped, perhaps a little too forcefully. When he flinched, she added, "Sorry, it's just…" She paused, unsure of what to say next. Damn it, Jasmine, she thought. Why can't you just speak like a normal person?
Kili said nothing, seeming to understand that she would rather the conversation didn't persist. But it felt nice, Jasmine noticed, to have him alongside her.
"Thank you, Elle," Balin said kindly, taking the bowl of stew that she offered him.
Flashing him her biggest smile, she continued on, looking for the rest of the company members. She had taken it upon herself to cook and distribute the company's dinner for that night. Elle had long since figured out that the true way to earn the affection of dwarves-especially male dwarves-was to feed them.
They had set up their first camp somewhere in Rhudaur, along the Great East Road. Elle had heard rumors of monsters-even trolls-to dwell in these forests, but thought it best not to linger on the matter.
She scanned the camp, looking for Thorin. Her eyes found him quickly, for she had grown accustomed to the sight of his regal stance, his dark braids, and his fur-lined traveling cloak. Elle tiptoed over to him, joining him beside the fire.
"I made some stew," Elle said sweetly, holding the bowl out to him. When he took it, their gazes met, and she felt her stomach clench, a jittery feeling emerging in her heart. He looked so innocent, so confused right now, the tense, kingly face she had seen earlier that day gone. Thorin was scared, she knew. Scared that he would mess up. Scared that he would fail his people and forfeit his kingdom. Scared for everything and anything that could go wrong.
"Thank you," Thorin said hoarsely, tearing the bowl from her hands and averting his eyes again.
They were silent for a moment, Elle's brain running through the hundreds of possible things she could say to further her own motives. But when she was around Thorin, nothing worked as it always did. For once in her life, the Sage, the woman who could talk her way into and out of any situation, was at a loss for words.
I hope you enjoyed that chapter! Please check out my other 2 stories, The Moon's Dream and The Daughter of Fire and Greed. :)
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