Gladiator: Ch. 2

(Eventual Thorin/Ren)

With a bit of anticipation in his eyes, the King couldn't help but feel his curiosity get the best of him again as he lowered himself down onto his throne upon the balcony, his nephews and Dain once again at his sides.

The large door was thrown open far down below him and out stumbled a handful of elves, including the strange creature that was the cause of his ever burning curiosity, much to his utter delight.

She wore the same armor as the previous nights but there was no show of bringing her out into the arena alone like some wild animal as they had the first night. Instead, the chain was already wound around her neck and she stood among the other five slaves, her eyes still sharp and calculating as she stared out at the arena seats that were now completely filled after hearing what had happened the first night.

As if feeling his eyes upon her, the blonde met his gaze for a long moment before she turned away when one of her companions spoke to her, evidently asking her a question to which she responded with a quick nod.

The large door was shut again for a few moments and the champion... Ren... barked a few orders to the others and she moved to the front of their pack, unsheathing her dual knives as she went before twirling them in her palms in her own form of anticipation.

All of them took up a stance before the door, their weapons clutched tightly in their hands.

Then, all at once, the doors burst open revealing a considerable amount of foes, both goblins and orcs. The blonde warrior was the first to leap into the mess of bodies, quickly followed by the others.

The King's eyes remained on her the entire time, watching how she moved so easily among the chaos around her. He marveled at her grace for a long moment, watching how she so easily twisted and spun, dodging strikes while at the same time inflicting them upon her foes. It was almost like a strange sort of fluid and deadly dance.

And even while she was doing this, she was somehow keeping track of her comrades around her. One of them was struggling behind her and as if she had somehow felt that one of them was in trouble, she had turned and thrown one of her knives, sending it sailing into the back of one of the brute's necks, effectively saving the female companion.

Then, just as quickly as the fight started, it seemed to come to a sudden end.

All the elves remained standing, a few of them scrapped up or with a few cuts but standing nonetheless. The floor of the arena was littered with about eighteen of the horrid creatures and their black blood which still trickled from their wounds.

With her darkened eyes, the female slowly turned back to look at him over her shoulder. An almost satisfied look shown in her eyes and this caused the dwarf lord to only smirk back at her and he knew she could see it with her elven eyesight.

It was like she was showing off just for him, like she was trying to satisfy him. Or intimate him, he wasn't entirely sure but he found that it was amusing nonetheless.

All of a sudden, another bunch of enemies was released into the arena.

Her head snapped back to face her foes and again, the battle was at foot once more. The elves were not so much a disappointment as Thorin first through them to be when Dain first presented them to him. They were in fact rather skilled and effectively took care of the job when it came down to it, even if it was a bit sloppy.

They were slaves though. It wasn't expected of them to be trained as fine warriors.

Just as the first one happened, this second brawl came to a quick close and the dwarves cheered and clapped for their fighters, obviously happy with their performance despite that they were slaves.

For as long as he could remember, there had been prejudice against the elven race. No one was entirely sure as to why or when it started but it still remained strong. Elves were only good for being servants, cooks, or in their case... gladiators.

Rising from his seat, the King himself slowly clapped his hands as he approached the edge of the balcony, that same satisfied smirk on his face. The crowd even cheered louder upon seeing that their King himself was entertained. However, he soon raised his hand in hopes of silencing his subjects and they did just as he asked.

"Borgil, translate for me." Thorin said as he glanced back at the Slaver who still stood on his balcony as he had every previous night for the past four nights. He never ventured down into The Pit himself again but instead chose to overlook things from above.

The greasy man snapped to attention and bowed his head. He carefully stepped up beside the king from his previous place beside Dwalin who only scowled at the man as he walked by.

"Tell me, my good fighters." He called down to the fighters in The Pit. At his side, the man began to speak elvish to them, his eyes flickering between the King and his slaves.

This caught their attention and they all turned back to face him, the champion with her eyes ablaze as she gazed up at him from below.

"I compliment you on your swift and graceful, if not brutal, fighting styles. For it leads to a very charming but destructive show for my fine people in these very halls." Again, Borgil translated what he was saying, speaking rapidly in the strange tongue. "But, I cannot help but wonder who trained you all...?" A quiet murmuring broke out across the crowd, for this was a common thought shared among all of them. "For it is strange for... people... such as yourselves to be able to wield a weapon as skillfully as you have."

Upon hearing what the Slaver had to translate, one of the group of six moved to step forward. It was another blonde female with striking green eyes. The only armor she wore though was a pair of vambraces and nothing else. The rest of her clothing consisted of a torn tunic and a pair of tattered pants. No boots encased her feet.

This surprised him for a moment but suddenly a hand shot out from the side and stopped her.

Instead, the blue eyed fighter, Ren, he had to remind himself again, was the one who stepped forward. The green eyed elleth only shot her an uncertain look but the second one simply gave a small but firm shake of her head, silently telling her to refrain.

With much defiance radiating from those eyes once again, she turned and looked up to him, silently giving him the answer he was seeking.

"Then I must compliment you singularly on your accomplishments. You must make a fine teacher." Borgil translated again, his eyes continuing to look between the dwarf king and his champion. "The past few nights have been very entertaining I must say for myself and my subjects. But, would it be so much to ask you, and you alone, to perform for us once again?"

Upon hearing his translated words, the blonde looked to Borgil accusingly as if she didn't believe that the dwarf would ask that of her again. Glancing back at the group behind her, she then turned back to face the King, her sapphire eyes alight with that same spark of anger he always saw. She replied something indiscernible to the dwarf.

"What did she say?" Thorin asked the Slavemaster, wondering what she could have replied back when the man failed to tell him what she had said.

"She says... 'If that is what you wish.'"

At hearing her answer, the crowd once again began to boil with anticipation and another quiet round of applause filled the air.

The elf kept her eyes locked with the dwarf lord's again and Borgil barked something harsh in elvish before pointing back at the large doorway that had since been left open.

A few of his men walked out from their place inside the tunnel and began to herd the others away and back into the holding cells where they were kept during the other fights. The champion watched them go the entire time, standing quietly in the center of the arena for some time. For a moment, the dwarf swore he saw something flicker across what facials features he could see. Was that... relief?

"Give her a weapon." Thorin barked suddenly, causing the Slaver to jump to attention again.

"Excuse me, my lord?"

"I said give her a proper weapon." The dwarf commanded, turning away from the arena below to look at the greasy man. "A sword perhaps?"

"I can tell you, my lord, if you enjoyed watching her with knives, then you will be pleasantly surprised with what she can do with a sword." Borgil told him with a slight smirk on his face.

Turning to look at the still open doorway, he saw Iren standing just inside the tunnel with his eyes on him.

Giving him a brief nod of his head, the man retreated into the darkness, only to return a few seconds later with a sheathed sword in his hands. Calling her name, the elleth turned to look at him and she took a few steps closer to him before he tossed the weapon to her. She easily caught it and gave the man a firm nod of her head before they closed the doors behind him.

For a moment, she simply held the sheath in her hands, her eyes running over the length of the weapon until she wrapped her hand around the hilt and slowly withdrew it.

However, the King watched as she suddenly frowned down at the weapon. Reaching out, she ran her thumb along the edged side of the blade. Then, she turned and glared up at Borgil, her eyes cursing him.

"You gave her a dulled sword?" The dwarf lord murmured, his voice taking on a more dangerous tone.

"She makes it work." The Slaver replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "And, I like to think that it provides her with more of a... challenge?"

"You would put your champion at such a risk?" Thorin turned back to look at him, his dark hair falling over his shoulder. His words caused both his nephews and his cousin to sit forward in their seats, intrigued with how he was suddenly so defensive of her.

"I put her at risk every time I put her into an arena." Borgil told them, placing his hands behind his back. He had a rather calm look upon his face. "But, over the years that I've owned her, my confidence in her skills has become unyielding. Even with a dull sword."

As he said that, he looked back into the arena, causing all of the others to follow his suit.

Expertly twirling the blade in her hand, Ren only allowed her eyes to look down at her booted feet for a moment as she continued to twirl the sword in an attempt to get used to the weight and balance in the unfamiliar blade. She then sheathed it and fastened it around her waist so that it hung by her left leg.

Then, all at once, the doors to arena were yanked wide open and the entire arena fell silent. For a moment, nothing emerged from the darkness.

Thorin kept his eyes trained on her the entire time and watched how lax her body was even while presented with new danger. Then, all of a sudden, she started to unroll the chain from around her neck until it's entire length rested on the sandy ground.

A sudden snarl came from the darkness and her hand immediately fell to the sword and the other moved to the chain, her fingers digging into the sand as she picked up the end. Then, all at once, she was running back towards the balcony.

Two Wargs came chasing her out of the dark tunnel at a full sprint.

She soon disappeared from sight and Thorin had to stand up from his throne to see where exactly she was.

Much to his and everyone's amazement, they all watched as she continued to sprint towards the wall until she was hurling herself up it, part of the chain around her neck tangled in her hand. Somehow, she managed to keep propelling herself up the wall until she was high enough that she was able to wrap part of the chain around the bars in the railing that wrapped around the arena so that she could hang from the wall there, her feet pressed to the wall to hold herself up.

The two creatures below her growled and snapped their jaws at her and she herself just remained hanging from the wall, looking down at them almost as if she were taunting them with her presence.

After almost a minute, she carefully began to release the chain from around the fencing before she wound it once again around her neck but she still held on to the bar with her free hand.

Swiftly withdrawing one of her blades from her sheath, she waited a moment longer and the crowd watched as her eyes followed the Wargs, tracing their movements with her sharp vision. Then, without warning, she let go of the railing and jumped outward slightly, using the leverage she had against the wall to propel herself outward.

As she fell through the air back towards them, she withdrew her other knife and with luck and a bit of skill, she somehow landed herself on the back of one of the furry creatures. Her knives sunk into the hide on his shoulders and the beast cried out loudly in pain.

A roar of excitement washed through the crowd and they cheered down at her.

The other snapped at her and she kicked the one she sat atop of hard in the ribs, causing him to jolt and run from the other. It was just her luck that it had been a trained animal before hand, probably captured with its orc master. She was able to run from the other one for a moment but the Warg beneath her was limping in pain because of her knives. The other one easily caught up and came plowing into his companion in hopes of reaching their prey. The three beings tumbled across the arena as a mass of bodies and fur as he failed to do so.

The crowd grimaced slightly and murmured in worry after watching her get rolled on top of. Having been thrown from the Warg's back, she tumbled out roughly onto the sand but not before closing her eyes and arching her back slightly in pain. That had actually hurt.

Hearing a low throated growl from her right, she knew that their was still a battle to finish so she lay there for a long moment, her fingers digging deeply into the sand as she willed away the pain. Her chest heaved and her brow was furrowed deeply but by some miracle, she sat up, wincing slightly as she went. Clamoring to her feet, she swayed a bit for a moment, her head pounding because of the impact with the arena floor. She sloppily withdrew the long sword from its sheath and bared it against her two foes as she squinted slightly, the flickering torches around her causing her skull to throb even more.

Everyone sat forward in their seats, eager to see the outcome and bloodshed that the battle still promised.

Now with one of the Wargs deeply wounded, the elf was at a slight advantage but she herself was in a bit of pain now as well.

The healthy creature moved to attack her but she instead spun to the side with a growl of exertion, cutting a deep gash into the animal's snout in the process. He too yelped in pain and shrunk back from her slightly, his paw swiping at his nose as if he had just been stung by a wasp.

The other managed to compose himself enough despite the blades still protruding from his back and tried to attack her while her eyes were on his comrade but it only ended up with her blade stabbed up into his brain through the top of his gapping mouth which had since fallen slack in his state of death.

Yanking the weapon free, she ducked just in time as the other wolf snapped at her. Her sapphire eyes were now widened with fear, for her mind and body was slower than usual, her injury causing her to process what was happening at a slower rate.

Spinning away from the both of them, she managed to emerge back onto the open sand of the arena, one Warg dead and the other still in pursuit of her.

This one, the one she had yet to kill, was much larger and faster than the first, she was able to see that. She had to keep ducking out of reach of his jaws or running away from him and the audience could tell that she was starting to tire slightly. The pounding in her skull only increased the longer she fought and with each step she took, she felt herself swaying more.

It finally came up to the point that he was too close to her. With her sharp ears, she could hear the pounding of his feet upon the ground. She could hear his rapidly beating heart. Feel his hot breath on her as he closed in on her.

And just at that moment, her vision blurred and she stumbled to the ground. Feeling a shaky breath leave her lips, she knew that this was the end. The end of the battle or her life? She wasn't sure.

As a last chance effort to save herself, she spied the sword discarded off to the side in the sand and wrapped her hilt around it. Ren only raised the weapon and turned over while gritting her teeth in preparation of what was to come. Her vision cleared just as the Warg lunged at her and then everything went still.

The crowd gasped and many rose to their feet as the watched the elleth disappear beneath the mass of fur. Thorin himself even rose to his feet, his blue eyes wide after having watched the Warg pounce.

Dain, Fili, and Kili also rose as well and stood at the edge of the balcony beside their king, wanting to see the outcome of the fight.

Borgil himself stared in horror from off to the side, his mouth having fallen open slightly in shock. That was it. He took in a deep breath before letting out a shuddering one. That is the end of your glorious champion.

Perhaps two was too much for her. Perhaps the King had been right. He should have given her a better weapon.

A silence settled over the arena then, all of the dwarves gathered completely in shock of what had just happened.

"REN!" Came a shrill cry from within the tunnel. One of the blonde females came running out into the arena but stopped when all she saw was the body of the Warg and her comrade was nowhere to be seen.

Disappointment swept through Thorin then and he turned away to sit back down in his throne but it was his nephew's voice that stopped him. "Uncle!" Fili called, his own blue eyes wide with amazement and upon taking in his expression, the King returned to his previous place, wondering what had him so awestruck.

The body of the Warg was shifting and then suddenly, a slimy, blood covered hand emerged from beneath the body. It clawed at the sandy flooring in an attempt to pull itself free. Then, with a mighty growl, the limp animal was pushed off her body, revealing a bloodier version of the champion they knew and had come to be rather fond of.

She simply lay on the ground for a moment before she reached out and pulled her equally bloody sword free, which had been protruding from the Warg's chest. Holding it in her shaking hand, she sat up before she clamored to her feet, her chest heaving from exertion.

She was nearly entirely covered in black blood. The sticky liquid covered almost her entire front.

Stretching up to her full height, she shifted her grip on her weapon before she raised those same blazing eyes to look up at the King. Defiance shown so clearly in the blue depths that a disbelieving bark of laughter escaped his lips. For even in her weakened state, she evidently still felt well enough to glare up at him.

Swallowing thickly, Ren simply stood there for a moment, using her sword to steady herself as she stuck it into the ground.

The other elf from said a few words in elvish from across the room and Ren nodded her head in confirmation, her chest still heaving slightly. The other said something again and the champion waved her off, evidently telling her that she was fine for the moment at least.

"Who is that elf?" Thorin asked Borgil who had since begun breathing again. He could relax now that she was alive lest he would have lost his entire show. "The one down there with her now?"

Coming to stand on the other side of Dain, he looked down into the arena. "That's Cel." He pointed at the green-eyed creature. "She's the one we found with Ren when we first captured them."

The dwarf king only nodded his head understanding, his eyes still lingering on the two of them.

"She's enchanting." Kili breathed, only receiving a murmur of agreement from his brother and the Lord of the Ironhills himself. "This... Cel."

"Is that her actual name?" The blond prince inquired.

"We don't know." Borgil replied, watching as Ren then sent the other away with a gentle command that was audible but unintelligible to them. She slowly walked back into the tunnel until she stood beside Iren, shooting the other female looks of worry. "Again, I think they keep their actual names from us. It's the one thing that keeps us from completely owning them."

Taking in a deep breath, she straightened up further and slowly started to walk forward until she was just below the balcony, her sapphire eyes closing for a moment as she steadied herself before she opened them again. Her fierce gaze met Thorin's again and then, just as she had done the previous night, she stabbed her sword down deep into the ground and sunk down onto her knees, showing her submission to both the dwarves and the Slaver.

A slow wave of applause rippled through the crowd, all of them in shock with what had just happened. They had all been certain that she was dead but she had certainly proved them wrong.

Even the rest of the royals began to clap, Fili and Kili exchanging large smiles. Dain himself had a smug smirk upon his face as he slowly clapped for the female champion who still sat below in the sand with her head bowed down to them.

Thorin only stood with his hands on the railing of the balcony before he raised his nose into the air slightly before he let a slow smirk spread across his face.

Then, just like the night before, the same man came out and relieved her of her weapons before shackling her wrists and hooking the chain to the ring. He had to help her up and despite the muzzle, the dwarf lord could tell that she was grimacing in pain slightly, no doubt when she had been slammed into the ground beneath the force of the Wargs. Once upon her feet, she appeared to be fine and together they walked out of the arena and disappeared into the tunnel.

"Why does she wear a muzzle?" The King rumbled slightly, watching how she showed no signs of hostility whatsoever when around this other man.

"Oh, erm..." Borgil stepped forward slightly, his hands clasped behind his back. Both Fili and Kili turned to look between their uncle and the Slaver. The greasy man licked his lips nervously. "She tends to bite."

"She seems to be so docile now, why not take it off?" He asked them, his blue eyes narrowing on the place where she disappeared. "Why not let the people see your champion?"

"My lord king!" The Slaver immediately stepped forward, his eyes widening at his words. The dwarf turned back sharply to face him, wondering why he was objecting to his order. The greasy man shrunk back slightly. "That is very unwise..."

"You dare tell me that I am unwise?" The dark haired dwarf growled in his direction, taking a threatening step forward.

"No! No, my King! It's just that... Well, you must understand. She's very ugly, was burned in a fire when she was younger and she won't fight except when her face is hidden, for she is ashamed of how she looks."

Thorin only looked at him for a moment, glancing over his features to see if he was lying. There was a little bit of unease in his eyes but the dwarf only figured that it was natural, given that he was a Slaver. They were always a bit unsettled.

"Very well." He murmured, turning back to look at the place she disappeared. "Though, I wish to speak with her."

"My lord-" Borgil started.

"She will be in my room in half an hour's time." The King ordered before turning and leaving the balcony, his nephews and guards behind him.

There was little the Slaver could do, not with the dwarf's words being so final. He supposed he would comply as it was anyway. Dain was paying him healthy sums just for these simple performances and perhaps he could earn a little more...

So, there you go. Second chapter of Gladiator is released. No much happened, sort of a filler but lots to come in the next chapter, promise.

Once again, if you have an AU or a One-shot that you would like to see, just leave a review! You can also PM me or message me on tumblr! If you really want to, you can also message me on twitter as well, all using the same username of course! :)

Thanks again for reading guys! Only 16 days until I can see BotFA! So excited!

Currently working on a Bard/Ren and Legolas/Ren AU as well so stay tuned for that!

Love,

Blue