First of all, I'm so very sorry! I am aware it has been ages since I have updated. My beta and I would like to apologise. My beta was rather sick so they have asked me to express their apology but I'm sure you will all forgive as it couldn't be helped. As for me, when my beta returned my draft I was away on holidays with no wifi :( so I'm very sorry that it has taken until now to go through and ensure that you receive a quality chapter.
Again I'm sorry for the delay, but unless one of us gets sick or goes on holidays again anytime soon, there shouldn't be anymore lengthy delays.
Disclaimer: I do NOT claim to own anything from either J.K's or Tolkien's Universes
Chapter 12 – Conversations by Candlelight
"A quest?" Bilbo repeated himself, "Is this what you meant this morning?" looking towards Gandalf accusingly.
Hermione noticed the little hobbit fumbling his hands together nervously, she hovered her own over his shoulder, as not to further distress him with the physical contact of a stranger. She silently cast a mild calming charm as she knew anything stronger would become too obvious. She waited until the hobbit's hands were relaxed at his sides. Hermione quickly withdrew her hand when the hobbit looked over his shoulder, touching the place where the spell had penetrated. He looked up at Hermione somewhat confused, she knew he would have felt a slightly warm sensation but she had hoped that he wouldn't have noticed.
"It would appear that Gandalf has forgotten to introduce you." Hermione muttered quietly, drawing the hobbits attention from the warm spot on his back.
"Oh, yes, it would seem so," he whispered, straightening to his full high as he looked up at Hermione. "I'm Bilbo Baggins, at your service Lady Hermione."
The flickering light from the candles glinted off something hanging around Hermione's neck. Bilbo felt horrified that he was about to openly look at her chest, but after a moment, curiosity got the best of him. Carefully, he glanced sideways, hanging from a gold link chain was the most intriguing object he had ever seen. Encased in circle bands of gold, which appeared to move slightly, was a glass orb filled with some kind of shifting mist of fog. Bilbo couldn't fathom how the foggy substance was captured within this little glass orb. He squinted his eyes, trying to get a better look, when he caught a glimpse of something green, but it was concealed again as quickly as it was revealed. Bilbo shook his head, believing he must have imagined seeing something else within orb, due to the lateness of the hour.
"Please call me Hermione," she whispered as to not draw attention to either of them, from a certain dwarf. A certain dwarf who was sitting next to the only available chair. Hermione desperately wished to sit down, holding her neck at this angle would surely give her a crick neck but she wasn't too comfortable with the idea of sitting next to the broody leader. Gandalf reached into his robes and pulled out a folded map which was spread out in the centre of the table.
"Bilbo, let us have a little more light." Gandalf called to the hobbit, who was now shuffling around Gandalf, lowering the candle to shed more light on the map.
"Hermione, why don't you take a seat and have some supper. I saved a plate just for you." Gandalf nodded to the seat next to Thorin. She held in a sigh not wishing to be in such close proximity with this dwarf. Something about him unnerved her, she could sense there was a certain instability about him, which put her defensive instincts on alert. Unfortunately for Hermione her manners kicked in and stiffly took her seat next to The Grump. Hermione hadn't realised how hungry she was until she took her first bite, ignoring the blatant glare that she was currently getting from her right. It must have been months since she had last had an actual meal, not to mention having not eaten in the last 24 hours.
"Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands lies a single solitary peak." Gandalf explained and pointed to the images on the paper. Everyone leaned in close to read it. Bilbo's hand lowered the candle to the map next to Hermione. Gandalf glanced up at her seeing that her skin seemed to react to the flame, her skin appeared almost golden, glowing in the flickering light. Gandalf's finger stopped hovering over the image of a single mountain with both the common tongue and dwarfish runes written, but above it drawn in red ink was a dragon this image drew Hermione in, there was something about it, in the back of her mind she knew that somehow her purpose in this place would involve this dragon.
"The ... Lonely ... Mountain." Bilbo muttered next to her.
"Aye. Oin has read the portence and the portence say it is time." Gloin said, nodding to his brother, who took over speaking all in the room listened intently. "Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold. When the birds of Yore return to Erebor, the reign of the Beast will end."
"Um ... what beast?" Bilbo asked a hint of worry in his voice.
"Oh, that be a reference to Smaug the Terrible. Chiefest and greatest calamity of our age." Bofur answered indifferently.
Hermione's mind was in overdrive. Words from Dumbledore's letter were appearing in the present discussion, she was so focused on piecing together the clues that determine her purpose that she missed the contemplative look Gandalf was giving her.
Bofur went on, "Air born fire breather. Teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals ..."
"Yes I know what a dragon is." Bilbo interjected quickly, trying to stop his growing discomfort at the dwarf's rambling.
Hermione thought of the stories Charlie Weasley told them at Christmas time, about the dragons he worked with back in Romania, but she couldn't recall him ever mention them being fond of precious metals. The dragon guarding the lower vaults at Gringotts didn't seem fazed by the treasures just through the stone walls trapping him, to Hermione it seem that the only thing it was fazed by were the rattles indicating on coming pain. She recalled the way it backed up against the stone lowering its head, tucking it under its wing as a form of protection. However, she knew this dragon was raised in captivity so comparing her knowledge of this dragon to the one squatting in the lonely mountain was like comparing a domestic dog to a wild dog.
Ori suddenly stood up, "I'm not afraid, I'm up for it. I'll give him the taste of dwarfish iron right up his jaxie!" Dori just pulled him back down by his ear.
"Not in front of the lady." A few eyes flickered to Hermione's direction but she pretended not to notice as she finished off the last bite of her supper.
Balin sighed, "The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number just thirteen. And not thirteen of the best, nor brightest."
Hermione was somewhat confused. Contemplating the dragons seen in the Triwizard tournament and the poor shadow of a beast in Gringotts, was quite sure that despite their size, it wouldn't truly take an army to rest? A dragon. But as she considered the dwarves arrayed in Bilbo's hobbit hole, she realised she hadn't considered their lack of magic, which complicated the issue. Modern muggles would most likely only be able to overcome a dragon when using their most devastating weaponry as the highly magical dragon's hide would deflect everything else.
The dwarves seemed to find offence in Balin's words, "We may be few in numbers, but we're fighters. All of us, to the last dwarf." Kili said proudly, prompting Hermione to look at the dwarves critically, and worryingly there were less warriors than she expected.
Fili backed up his brother's statement, "And you forget we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf would have killed hundreds of dragons. And our supposed 'greatest asset'." Hermione gazed over as Fili winked at her. She blushed a little at his gesture seeing the other dwarves glancing at her out of the corner of their eyes.
"Well now, I wouldn't say ..." Gandalf started to deny, but Dori cut him off.
"How many dragons have you killed?" But the wizard refused to answer and pretended to cough on his smoking pipe.
"What about you lassie, how could you help us against a dragon?" Dwalin asked, surprisingly there was no patronising tone to his voice, he seemed genuinely curious. Hermione looked to Gandalf, who nodded slightly.
Although appreciating Dwalin's curiosity, she caught Thorin's exasperated expression out of her peripheral. Just for that, Hermione decided to indulge in pettiness and not to explain her place amongst them just yet, rather she thought to have some fun and irk the dwarf leader further. "Magic." Hermione said with a cheeky smirk on her face, before taking a long drink of water to avoid saying anything else.
The dwarves took offence to her lack of seriousness, feeling as though she was mocking them. Bifur and Nori leapt up from their seats and they all started shouting again. Hermione groaned feeling a headache coming on from their shouting over the top of one another reminded her of the fights the boys constantly had whilst at the Quidditch World Cup.
A thunderous shout erupted next to Hermione. She winced a little as her head throbbed, but she was thankful for the ensuing silence. Thorin began speaking in a softer voice that gradually gained power and purpose as he went on, "If we have read these signs, do you not think that others have read them too? Rumours have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen in sixty years. Eyes look to the east assessing, weighing the risks. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we just sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours, or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor!?" The passion and determination in his voice touched Hermione and it inspired each of the dwarves, except one.
"You forget that the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain." Balin raised his voice over the cheers of the others, dampening their spirits a little.
"That is not entirely true Balin." An old key made from black iron appeared seemingly out of thin air in Gandalf's hand right next to Hermione's face.
Thorin looked at the key in disbelief, "How came you by this?"
"It was given to me by your father, Thrain, for safe keeping." Gandalf handed the key to him, "It is yours now." Thorin grasped the iron key before him, a whole new look of determination entered his eyes.
"The runes on the map speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls of Erebor." Gandalf pointed out.
Kili slapped his brother's shoulder, grinning, "There's another way in."
"If we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed." Gandalf looked back down at the map, "The answer lies hidden in this map and I do not have the skills to find, but there are others in Middle Earth who can. The task I have in mind will require are great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage."
"That's why we need a burglar," stated Ori and all eyes fell on the hobbit, who was standing alone in the corridor.
"By the looks of it, you'll need an expert." He shrugged, oblivious that he was the burglar in question.
"And are you?"
"Who, me?" Bilbo asked, pointing to himself.
"He said he's an expert." Oin cheered, completely mishearing him.
Bilbo frantically waved his hands, "What? No, no, no, no. I'm not a burglar. I've never stolen a thing in my life!"
Dwalin shook his head in agreement, "The wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor defend for themselves."
Disagreement and confusion broke out once again, Hermione thought this lot would never come to a single agreement arguing over everything all at once, hardly efficient.
The air around Gandalf grew dark, the room filled with his shadow, "Enough!"
Everyone leaned away to try and escape the suffocating darkness and stopped arguing. The shadow slowly shrunk, as Gandalf returned to his seat.
"Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet, and can pass unseen by most if they choose. Now while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf," he paused for a moment, glancing at Hermione briefly, and as an afterthought added "and the race of men. Whereas the scent of a hobbit is all but unfamiliar to him." Gandalf explained and Bilbo felt realisation crash all around him.
The wizard turned his focus onto Thorin, "You asked me to find a burglar for this company, and I have chosen Bilbo. There is a lot more to him than meets the eye. He has a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including himself." Bilbo looked around the room until his eyes fell on Hermione, who smiled encouragingly at him and he appreciated her gesture more than he could ever express. Since her arrival she had shown him compassion so freely each time he needed it and for that he was grateful to her, as in this world it is rare to find true compassion anymore.
"You must trust me on this." Gandalf urged.
"Alright, give him the contract." Thorin motioned to Balin who took care of legal matters. Balin produced two contracts giving one to Bilbo and the other, the ink still wet and the scrawl slightly scratchy due to the hast it was written, to Hermione.
"Just the usual. Summary of pocket expensive, time required, funeral arrangements."
Bilbo was taken aback, "Funeral arrangements?" He sighed and began reading the lengthy terms and conditions. Bilbo was joined in the hallway by Hermione who borrowed the light to read her contract as well and for the secondary reason of watching over the poor overwhelmed hobbit.
Thorin took this chance to mutter to Gandalf his own terms for agreeing to these new additions. "I cannot guaranty their safety, nor will I be responsible for their fate." He said bluntly.
"Agreed."
…
The colour left Bilbo's face as he read the contract. "... Injuries limited to ... laceration. Evisceration and ... Incineration?" he felt a wave of nausea hit him.
"Oh aye, melt the flesh off ya bone in the blink of an eye." Bofur gladly answered.
"Are ya alright there laddie?" Balin raised himself up to see better.
"Umm ... Yes. Ah no I feel ... bit faint." Bilbo placed a hand on his knees, "I need air, I need air." He kept repeating.
"Bilbo, I suggest you sit down before you fall down." Hermione said, taking in the hobbits rather distressed state. She noticed Thorin watching her out of the corner of his eye.
"Think furnace with wings. Flash of light ... Searing pain, then poof, you're nothing more than a pile of ash."
Gandalf and Hermione shot identical glares at Bofur to silence him, then looked back at Bilbo. "Nope," was all he said before falling towards the hard floor. Hermione managed to catch his head and upper body before they could hit the ground. But because of the hobbit's stunted height, she had to land on her knees. Pain short up her legs on impact which only mad her cranky.
She looked up directing her furious gaze at the one with the hat, "Well done! That was rather inconsiderate don't you think? This is a lot to take in, and you didn't give him a chance to do so." Bofur stared, shocked, at Hermione's scolding. Now help me prop him up in a chair. Someone else boil the kettle and make him a cup of tea." The tone in her voice left no room for argument, so Bofur hurried over and took Bilbo's legs, they placed him in a rather large armchair in the sitting room. Gandalf kept him company while the rest of the company mulled about the house. Hermione sat at the dining table as she finished reading her contract but was yet to sign it. She looked around the little room trying to find anything to distract her from thinking about home. Hermione spotted Dori walking towards the sitting room, with a fresh pot of tea, just like she had asked and for that she was thankful.
Thorin stood by the fire place, and to any onlooker it would appear that he was examining the objects on the mantelpiece, however, his attention was focused on the woman sitting alone at the table. Thorin watched her eyes, through the arch, as an array of emotions flashed across them so fast that if he wasn't paying such close attention he would have missed them. The emotions confused him, he'd recognised them, and had been intimately familiar with them.
Despite the emotions within, her eyes were not simple brown eyes. She had gold flecked eyes which gleamed as they caught the candle light. He knew there was something off about her, the way her skin would almost shine like the golden veins that ran through Erebor's halls in candlelight. Thorin continue to wonder at this woman, the golden flakes in her chocolate brown irises, the golden hue of her skin, he was curious if it took on this ethereal appearance in sunlight also, or was just a side effect of firelight. Her accent seemed foreign, unfamiliar even to him, he who had travelled to all reaches of middle earth. Thorin knew that she was different somehow and he was determined to figure it out.
Thorin pondered how old she could actually be. Her body was matured so she was already an adult she would have to still be a fairly amongst the race of men. Thorin then allowed his eyes to take in the rest of her face they focused on each of the bruises that he had noticed earlier which had already darkened slightly and then his vision trailed down to her lips, for some reason looking at her lips made him feel, well, he wasn't quite sure what it was he felt. He realised that she was now holding the edge of her sleeve against her lower lip. As she pulled it away from her face Thorin saw that her cut had reopened before she covered it again with her sleeve. He felt the urge to go offer his assistance but restrained himself. He didn't trust her and until he figured out why he was forced to allow this stranger, a woman, to become part of his company he would not show her any specific attention.
Balin came up beside him looking down at the fire just as the hobbit emerged from the living room and walked down a hallway. His departure did not go unnoticed. Thorin and Balin watched the hobbit walk away.
"It appears we have lost our burglar." Balin sighed and leant against the wooden walls of the hobbit hole. Thorin looked away only to lock eyes with hers. She must have heard Balin because she looked a little disappointed, but just as quick as before it morphed into what resembled determination. Thorin took note of it, as a potential hazard in the future.
Balin continued, "Probably for the best the odds were always against us. After all what are we… Merchants, miners, toymakers. Hardly the stuff of legend."
Hermione started to move to the kitchen to wash up her cup when she heard Thorin speak, "I will take each and every one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills, because when I called upon them they answered… Loyalty, Honour, a willing Heart, I can ask no more than that." And it was this statement that caused Hermione to take out her quill and sign her name on the line.
…
Hermione sat on the window sill in the sitting room, staring into nothing, thinking over the events of tonight. The way Thorin had spoken about their quest made Hermione feel as though it was her duty to help them reclaim their homeland. She tried to imagine this place as gradually all the dwarves filed in and settled down, smoking their pipes. The only sound was the crackling of the fire.
All of a sudden, the silence was broken as a deep voice began to hum. Hermione looked up to see Thorin once again leaning against a fireplace, the whole room could feel the vibrations of his smooth baritone.
"Far over the Misty Mountains cold. To dungeons deep and caverns old."
"We must away, ere break of day, to find our long forgotten gold."
There it was again that raw passion in his voice touched something within her, a need for something. To help maybe? She scanned the room and listened closely as the others joined in.
"The pines were roaring on the high.
The winds were moaning in the night.
The fire was red, it flaming spread, the trees like torches blazed with light."
…
Hermione drifted off to sleep envisioning Erebor, a solitary peak disappearing into the clouds, set alight by dragon fire. But the images soon morphed into flashes of Hogwarts in flames. The people trapped within burning alive and the reflection of the flames flickering in his demonic red eyes.
Thankyou to those of you who have chosen to review, favourite, follow this story :D