Dedicated to my dear citadela, the Watson to my Sherlock ;) The first sentence is for you, my darling ;)
Mahal's sacred breeches, Thozzo, our Ef is an angel— an angel of DEATH! Look at the moves!
Thorin couldn't 'look at the moves.' Thorin was busy fighting for his life. You boring. Apparently, the 'secret' path out of the caverns leading to the Mountain turned out not so secret after all. They'd been ambushed.
Thorin saw Fili chop an Orc's head off in one swift move of his two swords. Thorin hummed in approval - and then had to direct his attention to the two enemies that came at him. And then one of them made a gurgling noise and fell down at his feet, an elven dagger sticking out of the back of its neck. Thorin scowled. He didn't need her help! He cut down the second Orc, and then his eyes fell on the Elf.
Seriously, furuth, our lady is defying gravity here! Oh, like a bird! Look at her fly! Like a dusky hawk! Her hair is like the hawk's wing feathers, flame-like; and her hips like— Oh we don't have a comparison! We are too focused on the hips!
The Elf jumped, two long daggers in her hands, and landed on top of an Orc. She then lunged ahead, her strong legs wrapped around the neck, she twisted her body mid-fall - and Thorin could almost hear the crack of the spine. And then she rolled on the ground, slid ahead, and cut down the next two Orcs under their knees.
Oh c'mon, tell me this wasn't sexy?
Thorin turned away to check on his other companions. Dwalin was finishing another half-dozen of Orcs. Dori was fretting around Ori. Balin was stately explaining something to Kili who was throwing mournful looks towards the Forest River Gates they'd left behind.
Have some pity for the boy. His Elf had stayed behind.
"Time to move," Thorin barked.
"I need to send a word to King Thranduil," the Elf said wiping her blades. "He needs to know we've been attacked."
"Don't make me hold you back," Thorin sneered. "Actually, please, feel free to go back."
She gave him a sarcastic look. "I could just send a messenger."
She lifted her arm and gave out a loud whistle. Some sort of a dainty bird landed on her forearm, and the Elf whispered into the alleged location of the aviary's ear. Thorin scoffed. Of course an Elf would use a bird more suitable for baking into a pie, as opposed to a majestic raven like they had had in Erebor.
The winged nonsense took off, and the Elf came up to him.
"We should move. The dark will fall soon," she said, and he glared at her. He'd just said the same!
"I thought you had a map," she drew out and looked around. "Pardon me, if I'm wrong, but this seems to be a lake."
She pointed at the water in front of them.
"I thought you had a secret path to the Mountain!" Thorin bit back.
"In actuality—" Balin started, showing up from behind Dwalin.
The Elf rolled her eyes and walked away from the lecturing Dwarf. Seriously, furuth, direct the old man to the Hobbit. The Halfling doesn't seem to have any barney listening to these stories. He even goes glassy-eyed as if he's watching the flashbacks in his head.
Thorin followed, cursing being saddled with the Elf. Speaking of saddling people—
"So, we can't take your path," Thorin said loudly. He properly didn't need to hear the voice's lewd suggestion - or to have the imagery to go with it flood his mind.
She seemed to be studying the horizon and looked at him over her shoulder.
"We need a barge," she said. "Barrels from the King's Halls are usually delivered to Esgaroth by the locals. I'm sure we can find someone to help us cross the lake."
She turned away from him again. Thorin gritted his teeth. Why was she still standing there? They needed to go and find someone to actually do it! He wasn't going to discuss any plans with her! She was an undesired companion! He was not going to include her—
"There!" she said and pointed somewhere to her right.
"What?" he grumbled. He could see nothing.
"Don't you see? There!" She gave out an exasperated sigh. "It's a barge. One mast. The man on it has dark hair, is dressed in a long brown coat, and the barge is loaded with empty barrels."
Well, now she's just showing off, saucy wench. Tell her she's adorable.
"Well, go fetch him then," he barked.
Seriously, Thozzo, you have issues. Have you even considered that her flaunting her skills might mean she actually cares what we think of her? If you ask us, we think that she is—
Thorin knew what the voice thought of the Elf, so he just turned around on his heel and went back to the company. He could feel her glare on his back, but obviously it mattered not.
"King Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain, may I introduce to you Bard the Bargeman," the Elf said and gestured at a tall Man.
The bargeman bowed respectfully. Furuth, she knows our full name!
"I have paid for the Man's services, and he's going to safely deliver us to the other side of the lake."
Well, that was surely anticlimactic.
They disembarked from the barge, the Elf paid, and the company started walking towards the Mountain. Thorin of course walked in the head of the procession, and then the Elf caught up with him. Oh furuth, she's leaning to our ear! Mmmmm, she smells nice, of some sweet flowers. Can you imagine nuzzling her behind her ear? The soft silky skin, the fluffy locks, and if we do it right, this little pointy ear will burn, and then she'll—
"Master Bard told me the citizens of Esgaroth have seen the worm going on hunting trips," The Elf whispered, and Thorin winced away from her - not because of the news she'd announced, but from the insistent colourful descriptions the voice was providing in his head.
"So?" Thorin grumbled.
"So, the worm lives," she hissed. "Why are we going into the lair of a live dragon?"
Good question, Thozzo.
Thorin wasn't going to explain himself to her, so he just continued marching.
"King Thorin—" she started, and he glared at her in irritation. By the way, Thozzo, you're holding your breath. Is it because you're avoiding smelling the delicious skin of our Elf? And look at these lashes! Can you imagine them flutter when we kiss the tip of this adorable turn-up nose? Fess up, Thozzo, you so imagined it right now! C'mon, don't be a poo-face!
"King Thorin," she tried again.
Mmm, the way her red lips wrap around our name, Thozzo! That's surely… 'climactic!' Haha, aren't we good at puns? You know, 'climactic?' 'Climax?' Oh c'mon! Also, I just had a delicious idea. Three, two, one… And now you're imagining these very lips wrap around something else.
Thorin choked and dug his heels into the ground. Oops. This worked surprisingly well. It's like you want to have these fantasies, Thozzo.
"What's it to you?" he barked at the Elf. Idjeet. "My company has a plan. You're here simply because I had no choice but to allow you to join us."
Also, I'm mad about you, and I'll feel disgusted at how I'm treating you right away. Thorin didn't. I regret every word I said. Thorin didn't! And I'm simply being a prick because I don't know how to handle all these fe-e-els. Thorin wasn't. Was he? Yeah, yeah, you'll catch up soon, furuth.
She clenched her jaw, and he saw angry slits of her narrowed eyes.
"I was to accompany you and to assist—"
"You were sent to ensure that your King gets the treasure he desires," Thorin interrupted. "I gave him my word. Thus, he will receive his gems, and you will deliver them to him. That is all that is expected of you." Thorin made sure his tone was appropriately derisive.
Thozzo? You. Are. A. Berk. Oh shite, I think you actually… upset her. Oh shite. Oh no! Thozzo! Fix it right now, you sodding moron! Look! She's… oh no, look at these drooping corners of her gorgeous mouth. Oh this makes me sick! No-o-o!
The Elf turned around sharply and marched back. Thorin didn't look - yeah, you did - but it seemed she was now walking at the very end of their line.
You're regretting this, thickhead, and remember, you can't lie to yourself. You are - and you just peeked and saw how stiff her walk is. See? You offended our crumpet, and you hate this. Yes, you do. Thorin did. What?