Then said Ilúvatar: "Of the theme that I have declared to you, I will now that ye make in harmony together a Great Music.
"And since I have kindled you with the Flame Imperishable, ye shall show forth your powers in adorning this theme, each with his own thoughts and devices, if he will.
"But I win sit and hearken, and be glad that through you great beauty has been wakened into song."

- Excerpt from Tolkien's Morgoth's Ring, the tenth instalment of The History of Middle-Earth. A piece from the Ainulindalë, recited by Pengoloð to Ælfwine.

Chapter 3: Journeying

"Lassie? Wake up, lassie!" A gruff voice penetrated the peaceful haze of Solana's dreams, and she woke up with a surprised intake of breath.

"What is it?" She asked the dwarf – Balin, if she remembered correctly – that stood beside her bed after a second, already in his clothes, mace on his back.

"We're leaving. Are you comfortable wearing that?" Balin asked, referring to the red robes she still wore. When Solana nodded, he marched out of the small door, beckoning her to follow him.

After checking that her possessions were still in their right places, she followed the Dwarf out the door, and down the hall, where she grabbed a piece of parchment, a quill, and ink to write a small notice to Bilbo.

Dear Bilbo,

I would like to thank you for your hospitality. I'm afraid the Dwarves are set upon leaving on an hour before the sun rises, and I have no chance to say goodbye.

I promise that, should I survive this venture, I will come visit you with some form of souvenir. However, should we not meet again – and you can only presume I am dead after five years, no earlier, for I estimate the journey to take two years in the least – I will say that it was an honour meeting you, my friend.

Solana Evelyn Potter, Erinqua.

After folding it closed and writing Bilbo Baggins on the top, she left it in the middle of the dining table, and walked out of the front door.

The Dwarves and Gandalf were bent over two pieces of parchment and a silver key, which Thorin seemed to guard possessively. Thorin looked up when she approached. "Ah, you've arrived. Good. Here," He turned around one of the pieces of parchment, "Sign there."

Solana raised an eyebrow and sat down at the table they were crowded around. The terms were straight-forward, unlike those of the Wizarding World; cash on delivery, up to and not exceeding one fourteenth of total profits (if any); all traveling expenses guaranteed in any event; and funeral expenses to be defrayed by the line of Durin and representatives, if occasion arises and the matter is not otherwise arranged for.

Suddenly it hit Solana like a wave; she might never go back home. Sure, she missed Ron, Hermione, Luna, Neville, little Teddy, and Hermione and Ron's children, but it might be possible that there was simply no way back. The day before, there had been some kind of notion that she could possibly still go back, but that notion was ripped apart like Fluffy ripped apart his meat after reading the 'funeral' bit.

It took a few seconds for her brain to reboot, but when it did, she immediately signed the contract on the line under Burglar. Thorin grinned and clapped once when she did. "Wonderful! Now, this is a Dwarven map of Erebor, the Lonely Mountain, lassie, made by my grandfather. This here is the front entrance," He tapped a large gap in one of the walls, and Solana nodded.

Thorin continued, "Now, we wouldn't have needed this map, if it weren't for something Gandalf pointed out to me this morning. Over here," He tapped a seemingly random wall, "Is a secret entrance. I can't imagine that Smaug doesn't know about it, but because it is so small – five feet high and 'three may walk abreast' – a dragon wouldn't be able to go through there if it was a week old. This key," Thorin held up the small object, "fits in the hole. We will tell you the rest of the story on the road; for now, we must go."

And with that he stood up and gathered his equipment, setting off in the direction of a small stream, and leaving the others to pick up their own backpacks and jog a little to catch up behind him.

Oo0oO

"You said you would tell me the rest of the story, Bofur?"

After catching up to Thorin, they had walked to a nearby inn, and bought a couple of horses; it took a little while, but Gandalf eventually caught up to them from wherever he went, upon his own horse Shadowfax. They hadn't ridden a hundred feet when Solana had asked the question.

Bofur nodded, but Thorin spoke up from in front and said, "Aye, lassie." He seemed to sigh as Solana spurred her horse on to ride beside him. Thorin shot a glance at her, before turning his eyes back on the road.

"Long ago in my grandfather Thror's time our family was driven out of the far North, and came back with all their wealth and their tools to this Mountain on the map. It had been discovered by my far ancestor, Thrain the Old, but now they mined and they tunnelled and they made huger halls and greater workshops – and in addition I believe they found a good deal of gold and a great many jewels too.

"Anyway, they grew immensely rich and famous, and my grandfather was King under the Mountain again and treated with great reverence by the mortal men, who lived to the South, and were gradually spreading up the Running River as far as the valley overshadowed by the Mountain. They built the merry town of Dale there in those days. Kings used to send for our smiths, and reward even the least skilful most richly. Fathers would beg us to take their sons as apprentices, and pay us handsomely, especially in food-supplies, which we never bothered to grow or find for ourselves. Altogether those were good days for us, and the poorest of us had money to spend and to lend, and leisure to make beautiful things just for the. fun of it, not to speak of the most marvellous and magical toys, the like of which is not to be found in the world now-a-days. So my grandfather's halls became full of armour and jewels and carvings and cups, and the toy-market of Dale was the wonder of the North.

"Undoubtedly, that was what brought the dragon. Dragons steal gold and jewels, you know, from men and elves and dwarves, wherever they can find them; and they guard their plunder as long as they live – which is practically forever, unless they are killed – and never enjoy a brass ring of it. Indeed they hardly know a good bit of work from a bad, though they usually have a good notion of the current market value; and they can't make a thing for themselves, not even mend a little loose scale of their armour. There were lots of dragons in the North in those days, and gold was probably getting scarce up there, with the dwarves flying south or getting killed, and all the general waste and destruction that dragons make going from bad to worse.

"There was a most specially greedy, strong and wicked worm called Smaug. One day he flew up into the air and came south. The first we heard of it was a noise like a hurricane coming from the North, and the pine-trees on the Mountain creaking and cracking in the wind. Some of the dwarves who happened to be outside – I was one luckily fine adventurous lad in those days, always wandering about, and it saved my life that day – well, from a good way off we saw the dragon settle on our mountain in a spout of flame. Then he came down the slopes and when he reached the woods they all went up in fire. By that time all the bells were ringing in Dale and the warriors were arming. The dwarves rushed out of their great gate; but there was the dragon waiting for them. None escaped that way.

"The river rushed up in steam and a fog fell on Dale, and in the fog the dragon came on them and destroyed most of the warriors – the usual unhappy story, it was only too common in those days. Then, he went back and crept in through the Front Gate and routed out all the halls, and lanes, and tunnels, alleys, cellars, mansions and passages. After that there were no dwarves left alive inside, and he took all their wealth for himself. Probably, for that is the dragons' way, he has piled it all up in a great heap far inside, and sleeps on it for a bed. Later he used to crawl out of the great gate and come by night to Dale, and carry away people, especially maidens, to eat, until Dale was ruined, and all the people dead or gone. What goes on there now I don't know for certain, but I don't suppose anyone lives nearer to the Mountain than the far edge of the Long Lake now-a-days.

"The few of us that were well outside sat and wept in hiding, and cursed Smaug; and there we were unexpectedly joined by my father and my grandfather with singed beards. They looked very grim but they said very little. When I asked how they had got away, they told me to hold my tongue, and said that one day in the proper time I should know. After that we went away, and we have had to earn our livings as best we could up and down the lands, often enough sinking as low as blacksmith-work or even coalmining. But we have never forgotten our stolen treasure. And even now, when I will allow we have a good bit laid by and are not so badly off," – here Thorin stroked the gold chain round his neck – "we still mean to get it back, and to bring our curses home to Smaug – if we can.

"I have often wondered about my father's and my grandfather's escape. I see now they must have had a private Side-door which only they knew about." He seemed to grin a bit. "That's one mystery solved in this world of riddles."

And with that, he fell silent again, leaving Solana to think about what she had just heard. Gandalf handed her one of his pipes, and Solana smiled slightly, shaking her head in thanks, before flicking her wand and conjuring her own small, wooden one. Smoking a pipe was something she had picked up on the evenings after a long day at work, and the pipe itself was always wooden. The few things like that – a wooden pipe instead of a clay one, for example – kept her from growing homesick.

Soon, Gandalf and Solana were doing a contest of who could make the most amazing smoke-figures, ranging from a red Phoenix that fire-transported itself around, to a gigantic smoke ring Gandalf made, encircling the entire party for a second before dispelling.

The party went along quite merrily, telling stories or singing songs as they rode forward all day, except of course when they stopped for meals. Solana almost never sung, but when she did, the lyrics all seemed to have a deep meaning, deeper than even Gandalf could ever hope to understand. Solana herself was confused about her suddenly amazing singing voice, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

At first they passed through hobbit-lands, a wild respectable country inhabited by friendly folk, with good roads, an inn or two, and now and then a dwarf or a farmer ambling by on business. Then they came to lands where people spoke strangely, and sang songs nobody of their party – except Gandalf – had ever heard before. Now they had gone on far into the Lone-lands, where there were no people left, no inns, and the roads grew steadily worse. Not far ahead were dreary hills, rising higher and higher, dark with trees. On some of them were old castles with an evil look, as if they had been built by wicked people. Everything seemed gloomy, for the weather that day had taken a nasty turn. Mostly it had been as good as May – which it was, according to Nori – can be, even in merry tales, but now it was cold and wet. In the Lone-lands they had to camp when they could, but at least it had been dry.

Wind soon got up, and the willows along the river-bank bent and sighed. A rushing red river, swollen with the rains of the last few days, came down from the hills and mountains in front of them. Soon it was nearly dark. The winds broke up the grey clouds, and a waning moon appeared above the hills between the flying rags. Then they stopped, and Thorin muttered something about supper, "And where shall we get a dry patch to sleep on?" Not until then did they notice that Gandalf was missing. So far he had come all the way with them, never saying if he was in the adventure or merely keeping them company for a while. He had eaten most, talked most, and laughed most. But now he simply was not there at all.

"How – when did he –" Solana stuttered in astonishment, feeling completely sure that the old wizard had been there just a few minutes before. She shook her head. "Never mind." And then, before the dwarves could do anything, she set about setting up camp; with two dozen deft flicks of her wand, the tents were up, a fire was cackling, the wind was blocked by a small brick wall, and most of the horses were tethered to a tree.

'Most of', because Oin's horse had suddenly perked up and bolted, running straight past Fili and Kili and straight into the water behind them, taking the young dwarves with it.

"No! Accio Fili, Accio Kili, Accio horse in the water, Accio food!" In her distress, Solana yelled the incantations, and the dwarves and horse shot out of the water, and onto a quickly-cushioned area. However, the last incantation wasn't the smartest, because several latches on other horses flew open and more food came flying out, mingling with the wet food on a hastily-conjured blanket.

Solana groaned and set about trying to dry the soaked food, while an equally soaked Fili and Kili tried to tether the wet horse to the same tree as the other horses.

However, due to the concentration on the food, Solana failed to notice the wall crashing down. What she did notice, however, was the fire snuffing out seconds later.

"Oh, great."

"Hey, look, Bert, William! Manflesh!" A loud voice suddenly yelled, and the ground shook wildly as thundering footsteps sounded.

Solana looked around wildly, keeping her wand stored in case the attacker might break it. She had just glimpsed the Dwarves getting ready to draw their weapons when she felt a sharp pain in the back of her head, and all went black.

Review Replies!

SpikeySugarBomb: As you see in this chapter, she isn't OP, and it isn't just becoming a camping trip, because I wouldn't even want to write that. There is one time she'll be OP in the coming chapters, but it has a very clear reason. And I do believe that this chapter answered your other question as well.

RealityInk: I completely agree. Frankly, it annoys me to no end that 75 percent of the LotR/HP crossovers are slash. This is actually the same for the LotR fics, about half of them are slash between Bilbo and someone else. And another ten percent is Fem!Bilbo with a male character – problem is, they still call Fem!Bilbo Bilbo, so I constantly think Bilbo's male. It's irritating.

The reason why I said that I didn't know if it would become Solana/Tauriel is because I'm not sure how to incorporate her into the storyline. I'm sure I can figure something out, though. And I don't know what Tolkien was thinking when he thought Tauriel/Fili or Kili (can't remember which) would be a good idea…

Skendo: I know I said that, but as I said in the above reply, I said that because I don't know how to incorporate Tauriel into the storyline yet. I might make it so it's a brief romance, and then continue it after the Hobbit storyline – I just don't know yet.

HomeByTwilight: It's something that has bugged me as well. I've encountered few enough that I can count them on two hands, even. Whenever I can, I write femslash, but I don't want to seem like I'm a mindless teenage boy driven by his hormones, if you get my meaning. In any case, It's most likely going to by Solana/Tauriel, and I'm copying and pasting part of the review above; I don't know how to incorporate Tauriel into the storyline yet. I might make it so it's a brief romance, and then continue it after the Hobbit storyline – I just don't know yet.

And, of course, Thank You to the rest of the reviewers.