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A narrow corridor lined with cells was illuminated by flickering torchlight as a dwarvish thief was dragged along forcibly by a pair of guards. He struggled against them, earning a harsh elbow to the ribs for his efforts. His nose was bloody, but the guards looked worse off; one was walking with a limp, clutching a hand to his face as blood seeped from between his fingers, the other was sporting a shining bruise on his cheekbone and a shallow cut on his bare forearm that was bleeding sluggishly.
“So, Commander Dwalin, what am I being arrested for this time?” the thief snarled as he was thrown none too gently into a cell lined with iron bars, with his handcuffs still on.
“I don’t know Nori, why don’t you pick one of your many crimes and we’ll just go with that.” The second guard responded, slamming the cell door. “Oh, and make yourself presentable, you’ll be getting a visit from the King shortly.” Dwalin announced before stalking off back down the corridor, carrying the torch with him. Moonlight streamed in through the bars of the small cell window, dimly illuminating the thief’s face.
“Wait, what?!” Nori cried into the darkness. “Dwalin?!” He sighed, walking over to a bucket of water that was placed in the corner of his cell. “Mahal, the bloody King.” He said quietly, thrusting his hands into the chilly water.
Dwalin was leant against the cool stone wall of the underground guard barracks, wrapping a grubby bandage around his still bleeding forearm. ‘The thief must’ve put something on his blade.’ He thought idly, pulling the bandage tighter. The door to the barracks flew open, slamming into the wall. Dwalin sighed, focusing on the regal looking dwarf that had just entered; he was wearing an almost floor length fur cloak, with a velvet overcoat and heavy silver circlet. In his left hand he clutched a bundle of papers and in his right he held a poncey looking coffee cup that bore the mark of ‘ Dori’s Speciality Teas’.
“Thorin.” Dwalin began. Thorin gave him a dirty look reserved only for the bestest of friends and dragged a chair over from the dining table, sat backwards on it, then pulled the circlet from his hair and tossed it onto the table.
“What?” Thorin asked, smirking slightly. “You know I hate wearing that crown, it gives me a headache, and it leaves these awful marks on my temples.” The king turned his head and pulled the hair back from his temples. “See Dwalin, look at the sacrifices I make for my people.” He whined, taking a sip from his coffee. Dwalin just rolled his eyes.
“Thorin, I told you we had him over three hours ago.” Dwalin said, shaking his head.
“What did I miss?” Thorin asked, looking slightly guilty.
“You’ll be lucky if he’s still in his cell.” Was Dwalin’s only response as he grabbed a torch from a bracket on the wall and began walking toward the passage that led to the cells.
The narrow corridor was lit by torchlight for the second time that night as The King and The Commander of the Guard made their way through the cells. They stopped outside of a cell illuminated by moonlight, which was spilling through a barred window. The thief was looking a little better, having cleaned the majority of the blood off of his face, and was now sat on a low bench against the bars of his cell, spinning a dagger in one hand and playing with a pair of open handcuffs in the other.
“Well, Dwalin wasn’t lying.” Nori observed, rising from the bench and ducking into a low bow. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Your Majesty?” He asked, retaking his seat. Thorin cleared his throat and unfurled a scroll almost as long as his own arm.
“Nori, son of Lorí, you are hereby charged with: forty three counts of Burglary, twenty six counts of Armed Robbery, twelve counts of Embezzlement, three hundred and twenty one counts of Forgery; one hundred and seventy six of those being my own signature.” Thorin paused here for breath, allowing Nori a moment to look please with himself. “Sixty three counts of Trafficking Stolen Goods, two counts of Horse Theft, fifteen counts of Impersonating a Legal Official, one count of Sexual Harassment.” Nori raised his eyebrow, having no recollection of this charge whatsoever. “It says here that you stole a Dwarrow-Dam’s bloomers ‘For shits and giggles’?” Thorin elaborated, squinting at the records when he read Nori’s quote.
“Ah, the good old days.” Nori sighed, before nodding for Thorin to continue. Thorin took a deep breath before continuing.
“Thirteen counts of Jail-Breaking, forty two counts of Pickpocketing, three counts of Arson, seventeen counts of Vandalism, one count of Treason to the Crown, and one count of being an Accessory to Murder.” Thorin finished, rolling the scroll back up hastily.
“Whoa, wait a minute, I ain’t killed no one.” Nori said, outraged.
“Well, it says right here that you’re connected quite strongly to a murder that happened a few weeks ago, is that not right?” Thorin asked, turning to Dwalin and feigning confusion.
“Okay, okay. You know of me by now, I can see that.” Nori stuttered hastily. “I know I ain’t the best dwarf ever, but I never killed no one.” Nori stood from his bench and rushed over to the bars. “I’m not going down for that shit.” Thorin sighed and took a step closer to the bars.
“For all of these thefts alone, you’d be looking at several decades behind bars. But treason, and murder? That’s a much more serious charge.” Thorin turned away and began pacing slowly. “If you’re found guilty, you could face a Public Shearing, even Exile.” The King turned back to the thief in the cell. “I’m sure if the right person” he paused here, subtly indicating to himself. “Were to say the right things in court, we could have the sentence passed officially by tomorrow evening.” At this the thief paled quite considerably. “And I’m sure you’d find it much harder to escape under a twenty-four hour guard.” Thorin added, once again approaching the bars. Nori looked up at him with what was, for the first time, real fear in his eyes.
“However,” Thorin continued, beginning to pace again. “I am in need of someone with your… particular skill set.” Thorin stopped pacing and looked at him through the bars. Nori swallowed.
“How may I be of service?” he rasped, feeling all the blood rush to his heart.
“Well, as you’ve probably heard.” The king explained. “I’m organising a quest for a few months’ time, to reclaim Erebor, and I’m taking any dwarf willing to go. I believe your brothers are coming.” He added, with a sly look to Nori’s face.
“Mahal, Ori signed up?” Nori asked, alarmed. “He’ll be dead in a week!”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Thorin said quietly. “Be that as it may, we are, essentially, going to burgle a priceless gem from right underneath a live dragon, sounds like your sort of job, am I right?” Thorin asked, pulling a scroll from his tunic.
“Well, I would have the right experience for a task like that.” Nori replied with a cocky grin, finally regaining his composure.
“Good.” Thorin said with a genuine smile. “You’d get an equal share of the profits too; anyone willing to face a dragon deserves as much. Think on it would you?” he asked, finally turning to leave. “Oh, and I brought you a little light reading in case you get bored. I’m sure Dwalin won’t mind?” Thorin announced in a rather kingly manner, swivelling his head to look at his chief guard. Dwalin stared back at him with an expression that made him look like he was about to have a quite severe aneurism.
“Good.” Thorin said in response to Dwalin’s fuming silence. He tossed a thick scroll of parchment and a pencil through the bars to the thief, and turned away, heading off down the corridor, in the wrong direction.
Nori pulled the knot from the ribbon securing the scroll and it opened rapidly, one end remained in his hand while the other unfurled itself onto the floor and rolled underneath the bench.
“Thorin!” Dwalin hissed along the corridor. “Other way!” Thorin turned around with an expression of realisation, and to Nori’s surprise, walked back along the corridor, stopping outside of his cell.
“As you can see, Master Nori,” Thorin smiled. “I need all the help I can get.” With that he continued along the length of the corridor, and up the steps at the far end, his fur cloak swinging majestically behind him.