Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.
Thank you for the positive reviews so far. Keep them coming to help improve the story.
"So are we to ask for Lord Elrond's assistance or not Thorin?" Balin asked as he and Thorin trudged through Rivendell. Night had fallen over the world and the ethereal lights of the elven city, though beautiful, made both veterans uneasy.
"If he means to stand in our way, no." Thorin hooked his thumbs into his steel belt, his fur coat had been left behind since the night air was so warm. A waterfall raged under their feet as the crossed over one of the many bridges, and a gentle mist dotted their ruddy faces with water. Balin squinted his old eyes and gave a quiet grunt of annoyance, Thorin just looked ahead and ignored it.
The only reason they were out was because of Gandalf's request. He had asked that Thorin bring the map to Elrond study where the elf may be able to decode whatever secrets it may hold.
Thorin did not like this at all, having to turn to an elf for assistance. He only brought Balin for this meeting, leaving the rest of the company in their rooms. He had not seen where Marie had run off to after dinner, knowing her she was bound to land herself in trouble once more. The wide eyed look on her face at dinner was a clear sign that she would just love to explore every inch of the place. As silly as Thorin found that, there was something about it that made her look more vibrant than usual.
He had only glanced out of the corner of his eye to see her, so it must have been nothing more than a trick of the light.
Gandalf was waiting for them on the other side of the bridge, tapping the end of his staff on the smooth floor in a manner that suggested inpatients.
"Ah Thorin," The wizards stopped his tapping and straightened up, "Finally. It is not becoming to keep our host waiting."
Thorin resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
Gandalf indicated with his staff for them to move on. The study was light only by moonlight and tiny candles lined against the wall. Elrond was standing in the centre looking down and speaking with none other than the hobbit herself, looking even smaller next to the elf. Her back was towards them as they came closer, but it was clear that she was talking with confidence to Elrond.
"There you are Marie," Gandalf said, "I was wondering where you had gone off." Marie turned to look at the three of them and stepped to the side. Thorin saw a trace of a smile before it faded.
The elf looked up and nodded to them, stepping forward to meet them halfway, "Gandalf, here already." His lips formed a half smile as he tilted his head back at Marie, "Miss Baggins makes for such excellent company, I was not aware of the time that had passed so quickly."
"Like her dear mother, always one for stories." Gandalf puffed out his chest, as if he was pleased that Elrond approved of his burglar.
"Indeed." Elrond turned his attention to Balin. "We have not been formally introduced."
"Balin, son of Fundin, at your service."
While they briefly exchanged formalities, Thorin took this chance to subtlety make his way over to Marie and gripped her shoulder with his large hand. She was startled by this, but did not struggle under his hold.
"What has he asked about our quest?" He murmured quickly.
"Nothing." Marie shook her head, stray tendrils of hair pulling free from her braid.
"Are you sure? He may have tricked any information out of you."
"Positive. I am not as stupid as you imagine me to be."
Thorin was taken aback by her words. He had never thought her stupid, only ... useless to a degree. "Please, you're going to leave a bruise." Marie retched up to pry away his fingers that dug into her shoulder. Again Thorin felt the warmth between their hands. Unlike the last time, he was not so hasty in removing his hand, his fingers lingering along hers for a second ... or two.
"Gandalf tells me that you have a certain map in old dwarvish." As Elrond turned back around, Thorin and Marie both took a step away from eachother. "Our business is of no concern to the elves." He hooked his thumbs once more into his belt, standing confidently before the elf.
"Oh for goodness sake Thorin, show him the map" Gandalf shook his head and lent heavily on his staff.
"It is the legacy of my people. It is mine to protect as are its secrets." Balin nodded in agreement with Thorin and joined him at his side. Marie just stood awkwardly on his other side, clearly not wanting to be quite in the middle of a brewing argument.
"Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves. Your pride will be your downfall Thorin Oakensheild." Gandalf said exasperatingly. The elf had stood in silence as Gandalf grumbled away, not showing any anger at Thorin's distrust in him. This nonchalant attitude was one of the many things that Thorin hated about elves. He remembered when Erebor was taken how the Elven King had stared down at him, void of any emotion as he watched the dwarves run for their lives. Yet Elrond's was different, more gentle. Perhaps he could be trusted, but only a little.
"You stand in the presence of one of the few in Middle Earth that can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond."
Thorin weighed their options carefully. If he did show him the map the elf would immediately suspect their intentions, but still, they would be one step closer to their goal.
They could always fight their way out of Rivendell should the elves stand in their way.
With a frown on his face, he grudgingly retched into his pocket and pulled out the folded map. Balin looked slightly mortified that Thorin was giving in to the wizard's demand, but Thorin held up a hand to keep him at by while passing the map to Elrond.
The Elven Lord unfurled the old parchment and scanned its contents with a careful eye. "Erebor." He breathed, "What is your interest in this map." Thorin detected suspicion in his voice, but Gandalf was quick to put it to rest. "It's mainly academic. As you know these sorts of things may have hidden texts."
Elrond turned to way as he continued to examine the map, allowing Gandalf to give the dwarf a side glance, telling him to not to say anything for now. A soft growl emanated from the back of his throat as he stepped back. Elrond looked to the moon and held the map up, allowing the light to hit the parchment. It appeared he had found something, for he began to mutter something in elvish. Gandalf thankfully interpreted him. "Moon Runes. Such an easy thing to miss."
Thorin nodded. Moon Runes were rarely used in this age so it would make sense that Thror would encode the map with them. Against his better judgement, he glanced to his side to see the burglar's reaction. She happened to be standing in the path of light which brightened up her eyes. They looked like two pale emeralds shinning as the moonlight was captured in their depths, taking in everything. There was that spark again. They flickered across to him but Thorin just looked away. He had no time for such nonsense.
"Yes. Moon Runes can only be seen under the light of a moon of the same shape and season as the day they were written." The elf turned to face them with a confident smile on his face.
"Can you read them?" Thorin asked hopefully. Elrond nodded and tilted his head towards the doorway. "Walk with me."
Just as the elf took off, Gandalf turned and said to Marie, "It would be for the best if you come too my dear."
The four of them followed the elf to an opening in the mountain where a tall flight of stairs brought them to a platform carved from the rocks, the sound of the waterfalls surrounding them was amplified by the concaved hollow, along with the sound of Marie's puffing from the steep climb. At the edge of the platform there was a large crystal, about as wide as a shield with a flat surface. Elrond walked to it and placed the map on its glittering surface, joined by Gandalf and Thorin. Balin and Marie stood a few feet away as to avoiding crowding them.
"These runes were written by the light of a crescent moon on a Midsummer's Eve nearly two hundred years ago." He said his long fingers tracing the blank space on the map were the text must have been, "Fate must be smiling upon you Thorin Oakenshield. The same moon shines on us tonight."
Thorin looked up in time to see clouds pull back and reveal the crescent moon. Perhaps Fate did have a hand in this, or it was just coincidence that the wizard had led them to Rivendell in time.
The moon's rays caught the side of the large crystal and it began to glow white. The light pierced the parchment and a small passage of silver runes appeared. Thorin leaned in with hungry eyes at the glowing text.
"Stand by the Grey stone when the Thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day shall shine upon the Keyhole." Elrond read aloud.
A riddle, how fitting. This new clue filled Thorin with both hope and fear. He crossed his arms and thought over it. "This is ill news. Summer is passing and Durin's Day is almost upon us."
"We still have time to find the entrance." Balin said reassuringly and stepped into the light. "We must be standing on the right spot at exactly the right time then and only then can the door be open."
"So this is your purpose? To enter the mountain?" Both Balin and Thorin had been so focused on the riddle they did not realise that they had completely given away they quest.
"What of it?" Thorin said, returning to his hostile tone.
"There are some who would not deem it wise."
Thorin snatched back the map from the Elrond. It had been in his hands long enough as far as Thorin was concerned.
"Do not forget Gandalf. You are not the only Guardian to stand watched over Middle Earth." Elrond said to the wizard. He picked up the trim of his long robe and left the four of them alone on the platform.
"Oh dear." Gandalf muttered into his beard, "This may be more complicated than planned."
"Umm I don't mean to sound naggy," The three men directed their attentions to Marie as she spoke up for the first time, "But when and what exactly is this 'Durin's Day'?" Marie's face contorted with confusion. Thorin thought it was quite amusing how little she knew about the world.
Balin took the responsibility of explaining to the hobbit as they made their way back into the heart of Rivendell. Thorin kept his eyes low as he thought of their next course of action.
"I think Thorin," Gandalf sidled alongside the dwarf, "Perhaps we will require a little more stealth than charm."
"What are you suggesting?"
xxxx
"And when the New Moon rises our new year begins. Thus the cycle starts all over."
Marie was taking in this new information with great eagerness and interest. She had learnt more that evening from both Balin and Elrond than she had in the forty nine years she had walked this earth and was enjoying it. Balin invited her to join them for some supper Bofur was preparing in their room and she gladly accepted. It was quite a shock to her when she saw at least half of the furniture being used as kindle for the small bonfire in the middle of the room.
The only one absent was Thorin of course. Whatever he and Gandalf were planning was for their ears only, so Balin was sent back to relay all that they had learnt.
Marie sat herself on the edge of a chaises lounge that had been spared with her red coat folded under her arm as a pillow, Balin stood across her using the wall to support himself. The other dwarves moved about the room creating more mess as they went, leaving dirty clothes on banisters and Old Toby shavings all over the floor. Marie swallowed any qualms she had about such behaviour and just focused on her conversation with Balin.
"We have something similar in the midwinter, it's called the Yuletide. The first two days are called the First Yule which celebrates the end of the year before the Winter Solstice. The following two days are the Second Yule, the beginning of the year. It's one of the most important events for us hobbits."
"A six day celebration? Anymore occasions you hobbits like to glorify?" Balin asked, folding his hands into his sleeves.
"We have our fair share, Yule and Lithe being the biggest. Any reason for a party and good food I guess."
Balin nodded in agreement, "I like that way of thinking."
Marie adjusted herself on the soft pillowed seat, folding her legs under her. "Balin, you lived in Erebor correct?" She spoke with caution.
"Aye."
"Could you tell me about it ... please?"
The grin he gave her was a good sign. "Where to begin?" He pondered.
"From the beginning?"
The old dwarf chuckled at Marie's wit. "Indeed. Well, long ago when the dwarves were driven from our ancient halls of Khazad-dum, they travelled East until they found the Lonely Mountain. Thrain the Old may have founded it, but it was his grandson Thror who made it the greatest stronghold of our age. He took the title of King Under the Mountain and brought honour to the line of Durin."
"You keep referring to this Durin. Just who was he?" Marie asked as she started to rebraid her hair.
"Durin was the eldest and noblest of the Seven Fathers of the Dwarves, the first of our race. He is also called Durin the Deathless."
Before Balin could go on, the large door creaked open and Thorin came striding into the room, his large shoes clunking on the wooden floor with each step. Marie was thankful that she had tucked her feet in otherwise he would have trampled them. The rest of the company halted what they were doing to look at their leader.
"I take it the talk with Gandalf went well?" Balin was the only one brave enough to ask. Thorin only gave a slight tilt of the head in response. "We leave before dawn."
"Are you sure Uncle?" Kili piped up from the corner.
"Now that the elves now of our quest they will try to prevent it. We must make haste, Durin's day will come on swift winds." Thorin said. There was a general sound of consciences from the men and they slowly went back to their personal tasks, but the general mood became calmer than before. Marie was now convinced that Thorin had some pacifying influence unseen by the naked eye. He took a seat on the other end of the lounge.
"We are not going to stay longer? Shame really." Marie murmured. This caught Thorin's attention. "Were you hoping to spend day after day exploring until you remembered every inch of this place?" He pulled his pipe out in a huff.
Marie said nothing, for she had actually hoped to do that.
"You have good timing Thorin. I was just telling our burglar about Erebor." Balin said in a jolly voice. Thorin looked at Marie, appearing even more tense than usual. In fact Marie could see what she thought to be a hint fatigue in his eyes. "And what interest would a hobbit have in Erebor?" He asked. Even his voice sounded tired.
"A lot actually." Marie answered.
"Yes. Well where was I?" Balin continued with his tale, " Ah yes ... Erebor. The stronghold itself lies entirely within the mountain, carved out by the finest craftsmen. From the highest peak to the deepest mine, every step and pillar the result of hard labour. It is a city of emerald stone."
"Aye it is." Thorin breathed, a trail of smoke fleeing his parted lips. "In the Great Hall of the King, the throne sits under a reversed peak of unrefined gold which runs like veins through the mountain. The light of the rising sun that creeps in creates vast amounts of colours to brighten even step you take, some you could not possibly name. The mines and lower halls glow like crimson and amber as numerous dwarves stoke great flames, where the finest metals and jewels become things of wealth and beauty. You hear the smith's voices as they work from anywhere, as if their songs were carved into the stone so that none will forget it."
Marie was so lost in his tale that she forgot about her unfinished braid. She could hear the nostalgia laced in every word as he spoke. His tired eyes were not looking at the floor but at distant time, a time he remembered with fondness. Even Balin seemed to be lost in the memory.
"Is that why you wish to go back?" She asked in a small voice. "So that you don't forget?"
Thorin swivelled around a little and cocked his head to one side. "I wish to reclaim what is rightfully ours. It is as simple as that." He looked over Marie's shoulder towards where Fili and Kili were idly refilling their pipes, "So that those who have never seen its beauty can call it home for themselves."
"I can understand that."
Thorin gave a scoff at the hobbit's words. "What could you possibly understand?"
"My father built Bag End himself so that our family would always have a home in the Shire. If I had lost it ... I wouldn't know what to do." Her answer must have impressed Thorin for his expression softened a little. "It may not be a giant stronghold or a fine palace, but it is still a home."
"A home." Thorin whispered and looked down once more at the floor, "Indeed."
xxxx
The fire had all but burnt out as the hours rolled along. The dwarves all fell into deep slumbers across the floor and misshapen bedrolls and the humble sound of snoring filled the room.
Only Thorin was still awake for sleep would not come easily to a troubled mind. He had been silently planning their next route as the others dropped off. He had hoped to take the Gap of Rohan, but time wouldn't allow for it. The paths through the Misty Mountains would be their only choice at this point.
A slight rustle by his side momentarily distracted Thorin from his thoughts. Marie had fallen asleep still curled up on the end of the lounge.
Thorin was sure she hadn't intended to fall asleep, but as Balin continued with his stories her eyes began to droop and her body lent sideways until she was out like a light. She rested one arm under her head as her curls lay scattered around her. Her small frame rose and fell with every slow breath and her other arm was wrapped tightly around her for warmth. He found himself reaching for his thick fur coat and laying in onto of her shivering body.
She immediately responded and wrapped herself in the fur, her hair fell across her eyes and caught in those long lashes.
They day's events must have taken a toll on her, yet she looked peaceful and ... dare he say even lovely.
Again he berated himself for such foolish thoughts.
Still, he gently wiped the curls from her face and tucked them behind her pointed ears.