I don't own The Hobbit, the book or the movie. This fic will be based on the movie, with some tidbits from the book. I do own Astrid and Nerys and their backgrounds, and Idhril, who makes an appearance for all of like, five minutes later on. Treasures is rated for violence mostly, and drinking and smoking. You know how dwarves are. This fic will be written in three parts, one for each of the movies. Please enjoy!

Treasures Lost and Found
—The Dwarves

Despite Thorin's conviction they would find no assistance in Rivendell, Lord Elrond delivered on his promise of food and provided shelter as well, for as long as was necessary.

The support was well received by most of the dwarves, especially the food—though there was no meat, and far too much of the airy tones the elves considered music. Kili spent most of the meal observing the room around him and the people filling it, and just sort of picked at the food in front of him; it wasn't bad, but it wasn't exactly to his taste, either. Thorin was conversing with Lord Elrond and Gandalf about the swords they'd found in the troll hoard, and most of the other dwarves were complaining about the green food or the music or sitting in mute contemplation of where they could get some protein. The other elves who had joined the meal seemed rather detached from what was going on around them, though Kili couldn't tell if they were always like that or if it was because there were dwarves in attendance. One elf, a redhead who was uncharacteristically expressive, kept looking at the dwarves like she'd learn every detail about them just by studying their faces.

The strangely familiar woman he'd seen when they arrived in Rivendell was not in attendance.

After the rather unsatisfactory, though still appreciated, meal was over, the dwarves returned to the open and airy rooms they'd been given for their stay in Rivendell. Most of them began turning the area into something they considered more suitable for dwarves, and it didn't take long for each of the dwarves to find an area to make their own. When Kili set out to explore the complex of bridges and buildings after piling his things in an unclaimed alcove, Gloin was building a fire in the middle of the room with what looked like broken furniture and Bombur was digging some of the sausages they'd packed out to cook. Kili almost sat back down around the fire at the first wafts of roasting meat, but he couldn't help thinking it would be a long time before he had another opportunity to explore Rivendell, if he ever had another opportunity at all.

"Where are you going Kili?"

He turned to face his brother and gave him an easy smile. "To have a look around. Neither Uncle nor Gandalf were clear on how long we would be in Rivendell, and I want to see more of this place. Do you want to come with me?"

Fili nodded after a moment of silent deliberation. "Let's hope there is still some meat when we return."

The brothers shared a smile as they started across the stone bridge connecting their rooms to what appeared to be the main part of Rivendell. For a while, they walked in silence, passing rooms full of books and artifacts, gardens surrounded by tall, gnarled trees and full of brightly coloured night-blooming flowers, and here and there an elf or two, gleaming in the moonlight as they floated across the paths. The valley was full of the natural music of the waterfalls and rivers and wind, and every once in a while, a snippet of elvish music more haunting than what they'd heard at dinner. Millions of stars were visible overhead and it was astounding how little noise from beyond the valley reached this place. It was almost as if it existed apart from the rest of Middle Earth.

Eventually they found themselves standing on a narrow balcony above a large stone area, the targets arranged along one edge and other paraphernalia lying about marking it as an archery range. There was a lone figure in the middle of the range, a bow raised and an arrow drawn back. Kili leaned on the railing to watch as the arrow shot across the range and missed the target by about four feet. Behind him Fili laughed, but any amusement Kili might have found in the display was lost as his eyes narrowed and he studied the figure.

"Did you see the woman at the top of the stairs when we arrived?" he asked, his eyes never leaving the sight in front of him.

Fili appeared beside Kili and leaned on the railing as well. "I saw her, but I did not get a good look. Why do you ask?"

"She seemed… familiar somehow." He pointed at the figure, who was drawing another arrow back. "That is her."

"Familiar? Was she a dwarf?"

Kili raised his eyebrows at his brother's comment and gave a short scoff. "No." His eyes went back to the woman, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as she stomped across the range to retrieve her arrow. "I cannot think where I would know her from."

"Then it is probably nothing. Perhaps she looks like someone you have actually met?"

"Perhaps," Kili agreed, though he didn't think it was the case. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there had been something about her eyes, about the way she carried herself that was too familiar to be a shadow of someone else.

Fili made a noise that told Kili his brother didn't approve of the direction Kili's thoughts were taking—as if he could read Kili's mind. The younger dwarf knew this wasn't the time to be chasing phantom memories, but they weren't actively headed for Erebor at this moment and they weren't likely to be actively heading for Erebor for the next few days at least, so… why not chase those memories? Why not try and figure out why the woman was familiar to him? Kili turned and looked at Fili, who rolled his eyes and started walking back the way they'd come.

"Come brother, we should be getting back to the others," he said, exasperated though none of Kili's thoughts had actually left his mind.

Kili pulled himself from the sight of yet another failed shot and followed his brother back through the corridors of Rivendell to where the rest of the company had made themselves quite at home.

Astrid was up early the next morning, despite a late end to the previous day and rather sore arms. Her scars from her injury were pulling a bit when she moved and she was tired, but she was determined to get the hang of her newest fascination. She was close to accepting help from one of the elves, but first she'd give it one more shot on her own. So, once she was dressed and had eaten something quick, Astrid took the borrowed bow in hand and made her way along the familiar path to the archery range—a path which now led past the rooms where the dwarves were staying.

As she neared the temporary dwarf settlement, she was greeted with the smell of a dying campfire and the low rumble of several dwarves snoring. She snickered to herself, even as she inhaled the lingering scents of burning wood and cooking meat, and allowed herself a minute to wonder about starting her trek west again. Midnight was in the stables, she could go back to her room, pack her things, saddle up her horse and go, but…

Not yet, she told herself, though she wasn't sure what exactly was keeping her in Rivendell. Your side is not quite healed enough yet. That is what's keeping you here.

Astrid shook her head and pushed beyond the dwarf camp and the thoughts of travelling like they were. She walked with renewed, and perhaps slightly forced, purpose to the archery range and set herself up at the farthest target, so anyone else wishing to practice could do so well clear of her and her wild arrows.

It was nearing mid-morning when she felt someone watching her.

She tried to ignore it—it wasn't like she hadn't drawn any attention before from the elves of Rivendell—and drew back another arrow. Her eyes fluttered closed as she inhaled a deep breath and she relaxed into the stance she'd chosen. Just before she loosed the arrow, she opened her eyes and stared hard at the target, visualizing the arrow digging into the straw; it worked for her when fighting with her knives, why not with the bow as well? The snap of the string thrummed in her ear and the arrow went wide of the target again.

Using some of the more vibrant curses she'd picked up from her father over the years, Astrid crossed the range to retrieve the wayward projectile, her hand tightening around her bow in frustration. As she returned to the firing line, laughter reached her ears and she looked around, knowing it was coming from whoever had been watching her. She found the source of the noise after only a second or two of looking, since he wasn't trying to hide or anything: it was one of the dwarves who had arrived the day before. He was grinning at her, his dark eyes shining with the expression under a fringe of dark brown bangs. Something about the expression was familiar, comforting even. Astrid set her jaw and dismissed the thought.

"Is something amusing you?" she snapped.

"I have never heard a woman curse so colourfully," he said, starting across the distance between them.

When he was standing in front of her, she could see she was about an inch taller than him. Not for the first time in her life, she wondered if her father's theory about there being dwarf blood in their background was true. Astrid met the dwarf's gaze and tried to put all her frustration in the look, though she was finding it difficult. She had the strangest feeling she knew this dwarf. Astrid narrowed her eyes further and exhaled sharply through her nose before turning her attention back to the range.

"Your arm holding the string is too relaxed and the bow you are using is too big for you."

"Who are you to tell me so?" she asked without looking back at the dwarf.

She caught the smirk out of the corner of her eye and watched as he drew a short bow over his shoulder and fired three quick shots at the target in front of him. All three of them were fairly close to the centre. The smirk still on his face, he sketched a little bow, his eyes never leaving her face. It was only then she actually noticed the quiver strapped to his back, the handle of a sword peeking out from between it and his back; maybe he had come to practice.

"Kili—at your service."

Despite her annoyance at his sudden appearance, his unasked-for comments, and the familiarity about him, Astrid felt a smile tugging at her lips. "Astrid, at yours." Something flickered across his face at her name, something that influenced the next words from her mouth, words she hadn't intended to utter. "I will gladly make use of your service if you teach me to shoot a bow properly."

"With pleasure. Here, try my bow. It will be easier to learn on a smaller bow." He handed her the bow in his hands and took hers, laying it gently on the stone several paces behind them where it wouldn't come to a bitter end.

Feeling a little less confident than she had at the beginning of the endeavour, Astrid took her stance, very conscious of Kili watching her. She gave a start when he stepped up behind her and began to adjust the position of her arms. He quietly instructed her to tense this muscle, or move that finger, to touch her mouth with the hand holding the string, using it as an anchor for the shot. When he felt she was in the proper position, or as close as she was going to get in her untrained state, he gave her the go-ahead and she loosed the arrow. It landed in the target, a couple of inches from the edge. It was by far the best shot she'd made, and the smile on her face reflected that.

After sharing the look with Kili, who was also smiling quite brilliantly, Astrid took up the stance and tried to mimic the corrections he'd made. She started again when Kili's fingers landed on her arm and turned her head a bit, just enough to put his nose behind her ear, his laughter on her neck.

"Eyes front."

She murmured an apology and focused hard on the target, trying to ignore the shiver sliding down her spine in reaction to the feel of his breath on her skin. She was grateful when he stepped back to let her shoot.

Astrid landed that shot and the next, and soon was able to hold the stance with minimal correction from the dwarf, though her aim was still far from good. After she let fly a few more shots, the impromptu lesson devolved into a competition to see who could land the most arrows out of ten. They took turns with Kili's bow and spent as much time ribbing each other as they did shooting, and even though they were technically engaged in a competition, Kili's pointers continued. Kili won, of course, but it was good practice and Astrid was laughing by the end of it, though the muscles in her stomach and arms were quivering from the intense and unfamiliar use they'd seen in the past few hours. The laughter continued as they both crossed the range to retrieve the arrows from the ground and the narrow stream behind the range where Astrid's most wayward shots had found purchase.

"You should come and join the company for dinner," Kili said as they started away from the range. "I believe you would enjoy meeting the others."

Astrid returned his grin and nodded, bumping her shoulder against his. "I may."

"Then you can tell me what brought you to Rivendell and why you decided to attempt to teach yourself… do you call that archery?"

She bumped his shoulder again, this time with a little more force, causing him to stumble a step to the side. He laughed loudly, the sound drawing disapproving looks from a couple elves who were having a quiet discussion nearby. Trying to keep her own laughter contained, Astrid gave an apologetic wave and hurried on, shoving a still-laughing Kili ahead of her.

When the sun had set and Rivendell was once again bathed in moonlight, Astrid made her way along the path to the dwarf encampment. There really was no other word for it, considering they had built a fire in the middle of the room and had piled their gear around it. A couple of the dwarves didn't seem to be interested in using the beds provided. They were currently all seated around the fire, laughing and eating and drinking, and it was a moment before any of them noticed her, hovering in the doorway.

"Can we help you lass?" the dwarf closest to her asked. His dark hair was braided and stuck out from either side of his head and his moustache matched. It was an odd appearance, but it suited the dwarf's bright eyes and crooked smile.

"Uh, I was—"

"Astrid!"

Relieved, she smiled at Kili, who was seated across the room. The dwarf blocking her path stepped aside and smiled warmly at her as she crossed the room, keeping her eyes ahead and trying not to feel self-conscious of the eleven pairs of eyes watching her. She settled herself on the ground beside Kili, instantly glad she had removed her outer tunic; the room was almost too warm to be comfortable, with all the bodies in addition to the fire.

Kili handed her a plate of food—the meat was hot and delicious, especially after eating the food of the elves for nearly two weeks—and Astrid felt more comfortable. She spent the first little while listening to the conversations around her as she ate and laughing at the raucous behaviour and stories of the dwarves. They were welcoming and friendly and, after a round of introductions Astrid was sure she'd never remember, she set her plate aside and joined in the singing and laughing and drinking; she had no idea where they would have procured ale, but in the moment, it didn't really matter.

"I believe you agreed to tell me what brought you to Rivendell," Kili informed her during a lull in the noise.

She shuffled around so she was sitting with her back against the nearby pillar and could face Kili. "Did I now?" she asked, taking a drink from the cup of ale in her hand. "Well, it is not that exciting. I was attacked on the road and Lord Elrond healed my injury. He allowed me to stay until I was healed enough to continue west."

"You are travelling on your own?"

Astrid drained her cup and nodded, waving away the budding concern she could see. "Yes, yes, I have been on my own for years—what about you? What brings you and this illustrious group of dwarves to the Last Homely House?"

If Kili was perturbed by the change of topic, he didn't show it. "A wizard brought us here."

"A wizard?"

"Yes—Gandalf. He is travelling with us."

"Where are you headed?"

Kili opened his mouth to respond, but their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of one of the other dwarves. Astrid's eyes went wide as she took in the appearance of the dwarf; she had seen him across the fire earlier in the evening, but up close she could see the tattoos across his bald head, tattoos she remembered tracing with her finger while perched on his shoulders. Suddenly she knew why Kili, and his brother Fili, had seemed familiar: they had met, when she five was her and her parents had been staying in the Blue Mountains. Something of her recognition must have showed on her face, because Kili looked at her curiously and Dwalin, for that was the other dwarf's name, smiled.

Unsure of how to proceed, Astrid pushed herself to her feet and mumbled a hasty excuse about being tired before heading for the door. She knew Dwalin was following her, but she didn't stop until she was well outside of earshot.

"There was no need to panic Astrid," Dwalin said once she had stopped.

She turned to face him, caught by the sudden memory of how big he'd seemed when she was little and almost startled to find his eyes level with hers. "I apologize, but I… I was not prepared for that. Kili does not—"

"No. He does not remember who you are."

Astrid breathed a sigh of a relief. "Good. Good. I… I am not proud of the things I did when I was young."

"I am sure he has forgiven you for cutting his hair."

She weathered Dwalin's chuckle with an unamused look. "Please do not say anything about it to him."

"If you think that is best, I will not."

"Thank you." She gave him a small smile and then said, "From your intervention, I assume the reason a company of dwarves was led to Rivendell by Gandalf the Grey is not one to be shared?"

"No, it is not," Dwalin replied, though his tone suggested he would have liked to tell Astrid.

"I will not pry then," Astrid promised. "As much as I may want to."

Dwalin laughed. "I don't think we will be in Rivendell for much longer, but it would be good to speak to you again, little one."

A brilliant smile took over Astrid's face at the old nickname as she nodded her agreement.

Nerys found herself staring at the Lonely Mountain more frequently after her near run in with Dain. She hadn't actually spoken to him or any of the dwarves from his company, but she had seen them as they made their way through Lake Town and had been filled with an aching need to go to them, talk to them, be with others of her own kind, but something had kept her from taking the last step. She'd remained watching from a distance, tears in her eyes and panic in her chest. She'd thought Dain had seen her at one point but he didn't approach her so she assumed she'd been mistaken.

When Dain and the other dwarves had left Lake Town, Nerys had been left with a hole inside and she'd found comfort in the image of the Lonely Mountain on the horizon. She'd even gone so far as to walk to the hills outside Lake Town in her spare moments to better she what remained of her home, and she spent more and more time thinking about Erebor and Esgaroth and her life before the dragon.

When rumours of a quest to reclaim the mountain started to trickle into Lake Town, brought by those travelling through, Nerys grew restless and uncomfortable in a life she'd thought she'd grown to enjoy. Suddenly, the things she liked doing—cooking, tending the orchards and gardens, helping out in the market—didn't occupy her mind or bring her the joy they once had and all she could think about was finding out if the rumours were true, if there was someone coming to rid the world of Smaug and return Erebor to the dwarves. Or steal the treasure that still lay deep within the mountain. Nerys just wanted to find out.

However, she found she still couldn't bring herself to leave Lake Town. She'd lived a sheltered life, first imposed by the culture of the dwarves and then by herself and the idea of leaving scared her.

But if there was someone leading a quest, it might be Thorin, come to reclaim his birthright.

She could find him—there weren't that many roads leading to Lake Town—she could see him again, her prince.

The idea was almost enough to get her to leave.

Almost.

"Nerys, you're burning the vegetables!"

Nerys pulled herself out of her reverie—she was slipping into them more and more lately, especially when there was a window with a north-facing view. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I was lost in thought."

"No matter." The woman, named Kelda, was the owner of one of the taverns in the centre of Lake Town. She picked up the pot with the burned food and dumped it in a dish by the door, a few dogs coming to investigate. "But are you all right dear? You have not been yourself lately. Is it the rumours about the mountain?"

Nerys nodded. Kelda handed her another pot and the dwarf woman began filling it with replacement ingredients. "It is. It is a lot to think about."

"You lived at Erebor, did you not?"

"I did, when I was young." Nerys's throat tightened at the thought, but she resolved to pay more attention to her task. She would not think of Thorin, of her life long past. There were other things to think about. "I… do not really remember it all that well," she said by way of putting an end to the conversation.

"Pity. I have heard stories of its splendor."

"If these rumours are true, perhaps we will both get to see it again." Nerys smiled at Kelda, the expression forced, though the busy innkeeper didn't seem to notice. "I, for one, will wait for Dain Ironfoot to return to ask him of these rumours. If anyone will know the truth, it will be him."

Kelda nodded her agreement and went back about her business. As Nerys added some spices to the vegetables and stirred, she wished she could actually have the surety she pretended to have. She would wait for Dain to return, to find out what he'd learned in the Blue Mountains, but what she'd do once she had the information… she only wished she knew. She sighed and made herself focus on her current task.

Ugh, sorry this took a while.

I was fighting with the second prequel, The Adventures of Tiny Astrid, which should be up soon. Writing the first few chapters of a big fic is always the hardest for me, because all I'm thinking about is the big moments in plots or relationships that I want to write, and there are so many of them in this fic, even in just the first part. Also, it's been a while since I wrote anything outside of a modern setting, so adjusting for language and action doesn't always come easily.

Also, my laptop keyboard had a bad reaction when I, uh, spilled some rum on it.

Anyways, I'm glad you guys are enjoying this so far and I hope you continue to like and enjoy!

Oh, and just to clarify, because I know I'm going to get some questions about this, the dwarves don't remember Astrid because she was only in The Blue Mountains for a short time and it was twenty-five years ago. Astrid doesn't remember because of how long ago it was and because she was five at the time.