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Draco mindlessly wandered around the halls of Erebor after Kili and Fili had dragged Hermione away from him. He reluctantly agreed that this kingdom of Thorin's really was grand. He never would have guessed looking at the mountain from the outside that the inside was so spacious. He strolled towards the front gate and joined Balin who was standing on the balcony, peering towards Laketown.
"Master Malfoy," he nodded.
The words spilled out of his mouth faster than he could stop them, "What's wrong with Thorin?"
"You noticed as well?" Balin sighed. "I fear he has become obsessed with finding the gem."
"Bloody hell, he has a mountain of treasure!" Draco rolled his eyes. "Even Pansy would have to try really hard to spend all this gold!"
"It is no ordinary rock that Thorin seeks," Balin explained patiently. "He is searching for the Arkenstone. His grandfather, Thror, discovered it after digging to the very heart of the mountain, and took it as a sign that his right to rule was divine. It is priceless, it shines with it's very own light from its thousands of facets. It truly is a sight to behold, Master Malfoy."
Draco nodded; he understood how precious family heirlooms were. Like Slytherin's locket, although, he remembered, Weasley had destroyed it.
"Thorin was not too pleased by your…open sign of affections towards the elf," Balin commented after moments of silence.
Bristling, Draco growled, "It isn't any of his business."
Balin chuckled, "It seldom ever is our business, but it will not save us from being curious."
Draco said nothing.
"You needn't say anything. Most of us know love when we see it." Balin continued.
"What makes you think I love her?" Draco asked.
"Do you not?" Balin tilted his head.
Draco considered this. Tauriel had not left his mind from the moment she left. He had kissed her, and she had kissed him back, but-"It is impossible."
"Aye, it would be hard." Balin nodded. "But not impossible."
"She's bloody immortal! And I'm going to die in a hundred years." Draco muttered bitterly.
When he closed his eyes he could see her beautiful face and flaming red hair. When he breathed deeply he could have sworn he had caught a whiff of the woods and night sky. And when he raised a hand to feel his lips where he had kissed her, he could almost taste her lips pressed hesitantly on his. Yes, he admitted, He had it bad.
A bird flew down and landed on the balcony. He looked old and stringy; the top of his head was bald. "I bear a message for Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, king under the mountain."
"Quick, go get Thorin," Balin pushed Draco back within the mountain. Draco jogged back to the throne room and found Thorin standing there, deep in thought.
"Uh," Draco cleared his throat.
Thorin snapped his head up and fixed his annoyed eyes on Draco. "There's um, a bird on the balcony that has a message for you."
Draco was beyond weirded out. Back home, owls would relay letters between wizards, but a talking bird? He shook his head. Thorin swept past him and Draco turned on his heel and followed.
"Oh, Thorin son of Thrain, and Balin son of Fundin," The bird cawed. "I am Roac son of Carc. Carc is dead, but he was well known to you once. It is a hundred years and three and fifty since I came out of the egg, but I do not forget what my father told me." The bird continued explaining his entire family history, which Draco noticed was custom in this world. "…Smaug is dead."
Thorin nodded, "We have already been informed of this."
"So much for joy, Thorin Oakenshield. You may go back to your halls in safety; all the treasure is yours-for the moment. But many are gathering hither beside the birds. The news of the death of the guardian has already gone far and wide, and the legend of the wealth of Thror has not lost in the telling during many years; many are eager for a share of the spoil. " Thorin made a noise of protest in the back of his throat.
"Already a host of the elves is on the way, and carrion birds are with them, hoping for battle and slaughter." Thorin ground his teeth angrily.
"By the lake, men murmur that their sorrows are due to the dwarves; for they are homeless and many have died, and Smaug has destroyed their town. They too think to find amends from your treasure, whether you are alive or dead." Thorin's hands were clenched by his side.
"Our thanks, Roac Carc's son. You and your people shall not be forgotten. But none of our gold shall thieves take or the violent carry off while we are alive." Thorin's face was furious.
"But go specially to my cousin Dain in the Iron Hills, for he has many people well-armed, and dwells nearest to this place. Bid him hasten." Draco was resisting the urge to smack his face on the nearest pillar. Thorin was being absolutely stupid.
Hermione rushed onto the balcony with a flushed face, chasing after Fili and Kili. "He's just sent for Dain Ironfoot hasn't he?" She whispered.
Draco nodded grimly, and Hermione's face flashed sadness and…fear? For just the briefest moment. Draco made a mental note to ask her later.
"Back now to the mountain!" Thorin cried. "We have little time to lose."
Draco and the others filed back into the mountain.
"Secure the front gate," Thorin commanded Dwalin. Dwalin nodded and gestured for Fili and Kili to follow him. "The rest of you, find any weapon and armor that may be used."
For the rest of the day, Draco found himself sifting through the mounds and mounds of treasure to help the dwarves salvage any armor and weapons. He came across a shirt that looked like it was woven with diamonds, but upon closer inspection it was tiny chains linked together intricately.
"Mithril," Hermione breathed as her fingers skimmed lightly across the shirt. "Light as a feather, but it can protect you from being skewered by even a troll."
Draco's eyebrows rose. "Here, you should put it on. You know, just in case."
Her eyes glinted mischievously, "I didn't know you cared so much."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Just put it on."
She nodded and took it into her hands, then paused. "Wait," she whispered.
"Accio Bilbo's mithril!" Another shirt almost identical to the one she held in her hands landed next to them. Nodding to herself, Hermione stowed the shirt inside her beaded bag.
Draco frowned, "What if you forget to put it on?"
Hermione laughed, "Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy," She shook her head. "I've memorized textbooks. I don't think I'll forget something this vital that could potentially save lives."
Draco narrowed his eyes. He could tell that there was something she was hiding from him. She had already flounced away to go talk to Kili when he realized, too late, that she had said that it could 'potentially save lives'. Plural. And she had made no mention of saving her own.
A/N: Has Draco finally caught on to Hermione's little plan? Yes? No? Maybe? Leave a review in the little box at the bottom and let me know! Thanks!