Chapter 1

October the 6th, S.R. 1435

In the fourteen years since Sam Gamgee, Mayor of the Shire, had inherited Bag End, he had changed almost nothing about it. He kept it as much as it has always been when it had been old Bilbo's home. By necessity (given his young and growing family) he had modified only one wing of the sprawling hobbit-hole: he'd enlarged the pantry, the kitchen, and the formal dining room.

And he was well-known for keeping his larder well-stocked.

On this particular rainy October evening, he found himself, not the first time, hosting a few notables of Middle Earth.

Everyone was inside, their damp cloaks hung in the hall, and provender on the table.

Sam sat, a full mug of ale was passed to him by the dwarf on his left, and then the tall elf to his right nodded once and began.

"Mae govannen, mellyn." Elladan of Rivendell began... as he graciously lifted a goblet of well-aged Shire wine. "I come bearing greetings to you from our good King Elessar."

"To Aragorn!" Sam toasted.

Around the table, the Thain of Tookland (Mr. Peregrin Took,) the Master of Buckland (Mr. Merry Brandybuck), the Chief of the Dunedain (Lord Halden), and the King of Ered Luin (none other than Kili, Sister-son of Thorin Oakenshield), joined in by lifting tankards of Sam's best pale ale.

"To Aragorn!"

"And to dinner," Merry Brandybuck said, holding his tankard high.

"Before business!" Pippin finished with a satisfied smile.

They drank with gusto, each according to his kind, and set to the enjoyment of a hobbit meal, full of wholesome and hearty foods—from soup (barley) to sausages (pork) and berries (with crumb cake) topped with cream.

Discussions were limited to "pass the potatoes" and "who'll have more ale?"

Afterward, Sam shared his best Longbottom leaf, pipes were lit, and five serious faces (hobbit, man, and dwarf) looked at the elf.

Elladan's eyebrows went up, as if he were simply an innocent visitor.

"Come, my good friend," Halden said with a smile. "Tell us why you've called us together."

Merry Brandybuck nodded. "You've come from Minas Tirith." He puffed his pipe and leaned forward. "What's our good Strider got on his mind these days?"

"Or not?" Pippin added. "I don't suppose it's possible he's sent one of the most important elves out to visit us just for the chance at a Bag End dinner party?" Merry and Pippin laughed.

Sam heard Kili snort.

"Not," the dwarf nearly growled. "Likely."

Sam nodded his agreement.

"Indeed not," Elladan inclined his head toward the group. "First, he implores us to secrecy," he paused to look around the room. Sam puffed his pipe and watched Merry and Pippen become serious at last, and as always the man and the dwarf looked steady.

"And second," Elladan went on. "Our Lord Aragorn wishes you to know that he will be traveling this year."

Sam saw Pippin's eyebrows go up as though he were surprised by a mouse. "Really?" Pippin squeaked.

But Merry was laughing out loud. "Of course! About time he left the cozy walls of his white city." He tipped his head back and drained what ale remained in his mug.

Sam kept his temper, well-used to Merry and Pippin.

"Traveling where?" Kili's deep voice sobered the two rowdy hobbits.

"First to Rivendell," Elladan said. "And then to Arnor," he looked at Halden. "He wishes to visit his northern Kingdom."

The room was quiet. Sam did not like the risk...Arnor remained a wilderland.

Halden's face was thoughtful. "His northern subjects live in scattered settlements which move with the seasons," he said, referring to the lives led by Rangers. "Does he mean to visit them all?"

"He means," Elladan said. "To dwell for the summer on the shores of Lake Evendim."

"Annuminas." Kili said. "He means to go there?"

"Yes," Elladan answered, with a nod to Kili. "Dwarves will understand," he said. "The importance of re-building the old cities."

Kili sat back. "Like Erebor," he said.

The room became silent. Everyone knew that the dwarves' reclaiming of Erebor had cost Thorin Oakenshield his life.

"Well," Pippin said, looking around. "At least there's no dragon living there."

Sam nearly cringed at the awkward reference. No one spoke.

"Is there?" Pippin asked.

Kili smiled kindly as he made a warding gesture with his pipe. "Let's hope not," he said quietly.

Halden spoke up. "No dragon….no." He and Kili looked at each other.

"Then what?" Sam said, brows drawn. "It's no secret that we still have dark things slinking around Middle Earth."

Kili puffed on his pipe. "Shadbak." He looked at Halden.

Sam looked at Merry and Pippin. "Shadbak?"

They shook their heads.

Then Sam made the connection. "Shadowback," he said, using the Hobbits' name. He watched Merry and Pippin look at each other in sudden understanding. "That old creature you routed from the South Downs...isn't she dead?" he asked.

"No." Merry Brandybuck set his ale mug down. He looked around with a passable glower. "I'm sorry to say that wicked thing of a goblin has more lives than a barnyard cat," he said in seriousness. "We had sight of her last fall, south of Sarn Ford. Shot two of her followers."

Elladan sat back. "So that's where she went. Two of our outriders reported fighting a scattered remnant of mountain goblins moving past Tharbad late summer. They weren't in a pack...they were spread out over several leagues, giving the impression that each was alone. There were many more than two, I'm afraid."

"Aye," Pippin agreed. "Tookland archers chased more than a dozen for three days in the White Hills past Undertowers. We accounted for eight."

"The Ered Luin militia," Kili murmured. "Reported six different sightings of goblin-kind on the Lune at night, going upriver...not three months past. They crossed back to the eastern shore. Headed into the Emyn Uial."

"Sly as foxes, that group," Sam said. "But does Aragorn know this creature is still sneaking through the boroughs?" Sam asked.

Everyone was quiet.

"He knows the main forces are gone. They have no fighting strength, no will to unite. But it will take years to track down every last remnant of Mordor." Halden shook his head. "But when the Dunedain find goblin-kind, they are pursued until dead."

"As do the elves," Elladan said.

"And the dwarves," Kili added. "But the question lads, is how to find her when we get scant sightings, always along the borderlands?"

There was silence in Bag End's dining room for a long moment.

"The Dunedain will go on a scout and scour campaign," Halden said. "If we can agree to let them pursue into Ered Luin."

"I agree," Kili seconded. "And Blue Mountains can reinforce the western shoreline. I can even send our best cave hunters to you if that would help."

Merry and Pippin turned to him, not understanding.

"Lads who excel at hunting underground vermin." Kili said, his face stern.

Merry and Pippin considered and nodded, gripping their mugs as if ready to fight now.

"The elves," Elladan added. "Can send trackers who know what to look for."

Sam, who seemed to understand that such a mission was really no place for Shire lads, looked from Kili to Elladan and Halden.

"How can we help?" he asked.

"Send us supplies," Halden smiled.

"Bread, meat, and ale," Kili clarified. "We can add the cost to Khelethur's accounts."

"Not for this," Pippin said. "This is for Aragorn."

All three hobbits nodded.

"And…" Kili began, as if reluctant. He looked at Halden steadily. "I think I can loan you a few ravens for reconnaissance and communication."

Halden's eyebrows raised. "That would help tremendously! But…do you have any that speak Westron?"

Kili smiled. "No…but I have one very promising young warrior I can assign to you…"

"Not Kirin," Pippin looked askance. Obviously he thought Kili's firstborn lad hardly old enough to ride with the Dunedain.

Kili shook his head. "No, not Kirin of course. Gunnar," he said. "Fili's lad."

Halden's eyes widened. "I didn't know he was in the Blue Mountains," he said.

"These past five years," Kili said. "Training. He's right fierce with a poleaxe and handles ravens as good as any of us." He referred to the special talent of Durin's descendants to speak with Erebor ravens, including the only flock outside Erebor-the ones Kili had brought along when he accepted Ered Luin's crown fourteen years ago.

Elladan smiled at this advantage and bowed to his friends, hand on heart. "Then it is decided," he said. "We will do this together."

"Agreed. Let us all lend our aid to the hunt for Shadbak," Kili raised his mug. "And the restoration of Arnor."

Sam agreed. He stood and raised his tankard and the others followed. "To Arnor!"

Two weeks later, Kili, King of Ered Luin, held his breath.

Next to him, his firstborn lad Kirin, thirteen years old and wearing a new set of leathers, drew his bow string and loosed his arrow.

With a quiet whump he skewered his prey, sending the arrow straight into the rodent's eye.

"Good shot, Kirin," Kili said in a low voice, echoing the firm approval he'd received from his own teachers.

And Mahal knew the lad was hell on rock rats.

Behind them, young Sorin jumped up and cheered, promptly caught the toe of his boot on his own heel, and crashed into his father's knee.

"Steady now," Kili laughed. Three years younger than Kirin, young Sorin trailed his brother everywhere and spent most of his time tripping over his boots and picking himself up…his feet being at that awkward stage of being far too large for his height.

Prince Kirin was certainly Kili's son...but he had his mother Nyr's serious, avid curiosity. He also showed an easy control of his movements that boded well for sword work on par with the formidable Thorin Oakenshield. Kirin was obedient and would put his mind on achieving everything put before him, but he was easily crushed by any hint of disapproval from his parents.

Kili had to be careful not to glower at the lad.

Sorin, on the other hand, had Kili's brown eyes, a penchant for testing everyone's limits, and was prone to leaping ahead without a care for danger. Sorin was also impervious to disapproval. He almost dared Kili to deliver consequences for inappropriate actions. Luckily, his over-sized feet would trip him up before Kili or his Chief of Staff, Commander Skirfir, had to intervene.

Kili observed his fun-loving second son with much chagrin, knowing full well who the lad had inherited THOSE traits from.

Yet he loved them both unconditionally, and the one thing Kili insisted upon above all else was unfailing respect for their Lady Mother and indeed every lass. In this, he set the example and expected—even demanded—they follow suit.

Because of course now they had a new little sister.

Just six months old, Lís was her grandmother's namesake and so far completely unlike either of her brothers. Kili proudly swore that her sword grip was already stronger than Kirin's had been at that age.

A kingship, a lady wife, and three thriving young dwarrows.

Kili couldn't help feeling blessed by Aüle.

Then he sobered. Tomorrow he would travel to Wardspire, to his nephew. He would go alone, and he would go with a King's resolve.

Because Gunnar had been mourning long enough.

.

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A/N Welcome to my new story after a bit of a hiatus. The inspiration for this comes from RoTK, appendices, entry for "SR 1436 - King Elessar rides north. and dwells for a while by Lake Evendim. He comes to the Brandywine Bridge, and there greets his friends. He gives the Star of the Dúnedain to Master Samwise, and Elanor is made a maid of honour to Queen Arwen." Blend that with the characters from my Erebor 3022 stories, and here we are!

Welcome aboard! Let me know what you think in the comments!

Note on dwarrow ages: Kirin is 13 actual years old and we know that dwarves age more slowly than men...but Tolkien never defines how much slowly. The sources I've consulted seem to agree that they grow to young adulthood fairly quickly, but like hobbits have a longer young adulthood before "coming of age." Think of 13 year old Kirin as similar to an 8 or 9 year old human...Sorin would be more like a 5 or 6 year old human. Gunnar (or Gunz) is older-more similar to a 17-18 year old human. :D

Note on dates: the Erebor 3022 title was based on dwarven date reckoning taken into account that dwarves would have been slow to change-and that the story actually start BEFORE they know that Gandalf, Galadriel, Frodo, and Elrond have taken the ship west-which is the true beginning of the Fourth Age. So yes, I know that technically 3022 is not a Fourth Age date. It's my AU.

For this story, I'm using Shire Reckoning since that's how Tolkien identified the Lake Evendim event in the appendice.

Finally, a shout-out to my fabulous beta-reader, Jessie152. Thanks, mellon! And another hand on heart to TOWG for the detailed notes! Cheers!