I HOLD NO CLAIMS TO ANY MEMBER OF THIS STORY. Only Miriel, the female dwarves, Ammie, Arryn, and the female elves are mine :)
Prologue
How the adventure began
My dear Frodo: you asked me once if I had told you everything there was to know about our adventures. And while I can honestly say I have told the truth, I may not have told you all of it. I wouldn't let her tell you all of it, either.
I am old now, Frodo; both of us are. I'm not the same Hobbit I once was.
I think it is time for you to know what really happened.
"What are you writing there, old man?"
Bilbo Baggins' hand came to a stop at the voice and gave a frown as he turned from the book he was writing in. "Old man? If I do remember, you are older than I am, Amaranth Bracegirdle."
The woman glared at him. "Don't call me that!" She hissed.
Bilbo couldn't help but laugh, turning back to the book on the desk before him. "I'm the only one that can."
"That's because I won't kill you." Amaranth Bracegirdle took a seat beside her husband and grabbed one of the drawings from the set on the table. It was of Bilbo; she remembered when the dwarf drew this. "Do you miss it as much as I do?"
Bilbo paused in his writing again and locked eyes with her. "My answers will always be the same."
Yes.
It began long ago…in a land far away to the east…the like of which you will not find in the world today.
There was the city of Dale. Its markets known far and wide. Full of the bounties of vine and vale. Peaceful and prosperous. For this city lay before the doors of the greatest kkingdom in Midddle-earth: Erebor. Stronghold of Thror, King Under the Mountain. Mightiest of the Dwarf Lords.
Thror ruled with utter surety, never doubting his house would endure for his line may secure in the lives of his son and grandson.
Ah, Frodo. Erebor. Built deep within the mountain itself, the beauty of this fortress city was legend. Its wealth lay in the earth in precious gems hewn from rock and in great seams of gold running like rivers through stone.
The skill of the Dwarves was unequaled, fashioning objects of great beauty, out of diamond, emerald, ruby, and sapphire. Ever they delved deeper, down into the dark. And that is where they found it.
The Heart of the Mountain.
The Arkenstone.
Thror named it 'The King's Jewel'. He took it as a sign, a sign that his right to rule was divine. All would pay homage to him. Even the great Elven King, Thranduil.
But the years of peace and plenty were not to last. Slowly the days turned sour and the watchful nights closed in. Thror's love of gild had grown too fierce. A sickness had begun to grow within him. It was a sickness of the mind. And where sickness thrives, bad things will follow.
The first they heard was a noise like a hurricane coming down from the North. The pines on the mountain creaked and cracked in the hot, dry wind.
He was a firedrake from the North.
Smaug had come.
Such wanton death was dealt that day. For this city of Men was nothing to Smaug. His eye was set on another prize. For dragons covet gold with a dark and fierce desire.
Erebor was lost. For a dragon will guard his plunder as long as he lives.
Thranduil would not risk the lives of his kin against the wrath of the dragon. No help came from the Elves that day…Nor any day since.
Robbed of their homeland, the dwarves of Erebor wandered the wilderness, a once mighty people brought low.
The young dwarf prince took work where he could find it, laboring in the villages of Men. But always he remembered the mountain smoke beneath the moon, the trees like torches blazing bright. For he had seen dragoon fire in the sky and a city turned to ash.
And he never forgave and he never forgot.
Neither of them did…
That, my dear Frodo, is where we come in. For quite by chance, and the will of a wizard and a witch, fate decided that Ammie and I would become part of this tale.
It began…well, it began as you might expect.
In a hole in the ground there lived a Hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole full of worms and oozy smells. This was a Hobbit hole. And that means good food, a warm hearth, and all the comforts of home.
"Are you and father playing with your maps again, mother?"
Turning from the table, Ammie smiled at the sight of the young woman poking her head in from the kitchen doorway.
"It's not called playing, Molly," Bilbo told his daughter.
"Sure it's not." The young Hobbit gave a sigh, turning back to cleaning the dishes she had been using. Ammie and Bilbo shared a chuckle as Frodo walked in with the mail. Bilbo cleared his throat as the mail was placed on his desk.
"Thank you."
Frodo grabbed the pictures that Ammie had been looking at. "What's this?" He asked with a smile.
"Secrets that my parents don't want us to know, I'm afraid," Molly called to her cousin as Bilbo grabbed the pictures from his hands. "So don't even bother trying to ask for answers. It's apparently 'not ready yet'."
"It's not." Bilbo told his daughter.
"Only to you," Ammie teased, mimicking her daughter's snort.
Bilbo rolled his eyes and turned to the mail Frodo brought him. "What are these?"
"Replies to the party invitations." Frodo answered, looking through the trunk Bilbo normally kept locked.
Bilbo turned with a huge smile. "Ah. Good gracious. Is it today?"
"You would think that you would remember it, father." Molly shook her head, taking a seat beside her laughing mother.
"The only thing that he remembers is his time for smoking. Without me, he would be lost for eternity."
Frodo laughed at the two women. "They all say they're coming. Except for the Sackville-Bagginses, who are demanding you ask them in person."
Ammie gave a frown, remembering that part of the family. Some of her least favorite. Molly mimicked her mother's face, not too fond of them, either.
Bilbo didn't seem too happy either as he began to hide things away in the house. "Are they, indeed? Over my dead body."
"They'd probably find that quite agreeable," Frodo chuckled. "They seem to think you have tunnels overflowing with gold."
"That's because they're fools," Molly huffed. "I would have found it by now if this were so."
"Is that right," Ammie watched as her daughter's cheeks flushed.
"It was one small chest," Bilbo admitted. "Hardly overflowing. And it still smells of Troll."
"What on earth are you doing?" Frodo demanded moments later, watching his uncle.
Bilbo glanced at him. "Taking precautions." He turned to his wife and daughter. "I'd enjoy some help."
"Yeah, yeah," Molly stood from her seat and began to hide the silverware she had been washing.
"You know," Bilbo continued. "I caught her making off with the silverware once."
"Who?"
Ammie was the one to answer. "Lobelia Sackville-Baggins."
"She had all my spoons stuffed in her pocket."
"And I won't tell you what she had stuffed in her bosom." Ammie added.
"Ha!" Bilbo snorted. "Dreadful woman. Make sure you keep an eye on her after we're…" His voice faded as he shot Ammie a glance but the older woman said nothing, didn't even look at him, as she stuffed another teacup high on a self to hide it.
"After you're what?" Frodo and Molly asked together, looking between the two Hobbits that they lived with.
"It's nothing," Bilbo shook his head. "Nothing."
Frodo stared after him for a moment, exchanged a look with Molly, before moving after him. "You know, some people are beginning to wonder about you, Uncle. About both of you," He glanced at Ammie. "They think you're becoming odd."
"Well, I've been happily odd since the beginning so that's nothing new," Ammie laughed, but her daughter and nephew didn't join with her like they normally would.
"Unsociable," Frodo stepped closer.
"Unsociable, me? Nonsense." He turned and handed the young Hobbit a sign. "Be a good lad and put that on the gate."
As Frodo did so, Bilbo and Ammie ventured outside to sit on the bench by their door, Molly watching them from the doorway.
"Do you think they'll come?" Frodo asked his Uncle.
"Who?" Bilbo asked him.
"The witch and wizard, father." Molly rolled her eyes.
"Of course they will," Ammie nodded.
"Oh-ho. Gandalf wouldn't miss a chance to let off his whizpoppers." Bilbo said happily. "They'll give us quite a show, you'll see."
"Right, then. I'm off." Frodo turned to leave.
"Off to where?" Bilbo called.
"East-farthing Woods. I'm going to surprise them."
"Well, go on, then. You don't want to be late."
As Frodo took off, Ammie turned to her daughter. "Are you not going to join him?"
"No," Molly shook her head. "I've got to make sure that Merry and Pippin don't try to set traps from the party tonight."
"Make sure they don't, or make sure they do?" Ammie called after her.
Molly gave a laugh as she took off towards the other side of the Shire. "You and I both know the answer to that, mother!"
Bilbo chuckled as he pulled out his pipe. "She's just like you, dear."
"Yes, and I wouldn't change her for the world." Ammie pulled her feet up and placed her head on her husband's shoulder. "Are you sure you're finally ready for this, Bilbo?"
The Hobbit was silent for a moment before he closed his eyes. "Yes. I finally believe that I've kept you here for much too long, Amaranth. You've longed for the mountains again for much too long."
And so begins the first of the two best adventures ever created, my friends. Enjoy.
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