Thorin grumbled to himself as he left the house of the self-proclaimed mayor of the village. They had arrived in the town late that morning, and the first thing that Thorin had done was seek out the leader of the town in order to determine if there might be somewhere he could stay for a short time while working. Much to his disappointment though, he found that there was no forge in the town. The man he had just visited with doubted that there would be much work of any kind for Thorin to find here as they had just been visited within the past month by a different blacksmith from the Blue Mountains.
It was bad luck, and Thorin could not help but feel frustrated as he looked about the small town. If anything, it was smaller than the last he had been in, and he doubted that Hermione was having much more luck than he was.
He shifted his pack on his shoulders and began walking to the west side of the town where they had agreed to meet at noon in order to share what they had learned. From there they would determine if they were both going to be continuing traveling together. He dropped his pack beneath the tall oak that he had pointed out to Hermione before they had parted ways, and prepared himself to wait.
Settling himself down among the roots, his back pressed up against the trunk, he watched as the people of the town went about their business. As he waited his mind drifted back to his traveling companion. Last night had been moderately successful in teaching the woman how to do some of the very basic survival tasks that she had been lacking in. She could now start a fire with a flint after a few tries and knew more about the tell-tale signs of there being water nearby.
While Thorin still found himself mystified as to how his traveling companion did not already know these things, he had found it surprisingly relaxing to talk to her about how to survive on the road. So much so, that he thought that he might find himself slightly disappointed if she did not decide to continue to travel west with him.
Thorin shook his head at this thought. It would do him no good to find himself enamoured with a woman of the men-folk. He needed to keep focused on what truly mattered, his family and his people. With a small sigh, Thorin pulled his pipe out of his pack, lit it and began to smoke.
It was not until well after he had finished, that he noticed Hermione walking down the road towards him, and his eyes widened at the sight. She was not alone, and the dwarf beside her was not one he had expected to encounter on the road.
As they grew closer, Hermione speed up and pulled ahead of her companion, reaching Thorin first.
"Thorin, I met this man at the inn. He said he knew you, and insisted that I bring him to you."
Her nervous words washed over him, but he had only eyes for the dwarf that she had brought with her, and he could not help but let a smile of surprised joy creep onto his face.
"Dwalin," Thorin said, unable to keep the happy tone of surprise out of his voice as he walked forward and drew his lifelong friend into a hug. "It is good to see you."
"And you as well, Thorin," Dwalin replied, his deep voice rumbling with pleasure. "When the lass told the innkeeper's wife that she was traveling with a blacksmith, I had to check and see if it might be you."
Thorin glanced over at Hermione, to see her nod in confirmation.
"A lucky encounter then," he said as he clapped a hand onto Dwalin's shoulder, and looked back at his friend. "You are looking well, my friend. It has been too long since I last saw you."
"And you as well, my king," Dwalin intoned with a nod.
"King?" It was barely more than a squeak, but Thorin heard it and turned back towards Hermione.
"I take it that she does not know who you are." he heard Dwalin say, and he found himself nodding.
"No, she doesn't," Thorin agreed. "Dwalin, this is my current traveling companion, Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is Dwalin son of Fundin. He has been a friend of mine since childhood."
"And you are a king?" Hermione asked, a note of scepticism present within her voice.
"Aye, he is the wandering King of Erebor, and would be sitting on the throne if it were not for the dragon Smaug," Dwalin said, before Thorin could explain himself. If her finding out that he was a king had shocked her, the way her head snapped back to Dwalin at the mention of a dragon was something that Thorin could not help but notice.
"And I suppose you keep company with wizards and witches, and celebrate the Yule and Beltane?" she said as she wrung her hands nervously in front of her.
Thorin noticed Dwalin giving him a curious look before he let out a small sigh, "Tharkûn, or Gandalf as he might be known to you, is the only wizard I have ever had any significant dealings with, and of course we celebrate the Yule and Beltane. I apologize for not telling you of my title, but I did not think it was something that you would need to know."
He watched as the woman seemed to deflate before him. Her back, which had been straight and stiff, seemed to collapse as she let her shoulders sag.
"Apology accepted," she said her voice having lost its nervous quality.
Thorin nodded his head in acknowledgment, before returning his attention to Dwalin. "I mean to travel west from here, back towards Ered Luin. Which way do you intend to travel?"
"I was coming from the north, traveling south to see if I might find any mercenary work, but I would gladly travel with you to Ered Luin. It has been too long since I have seen Balin."
"And you," Thorin asked Hermione. "Did you find any leads with any of the townspeople?"
"No, but this Gandalf, I think maybe I would like to try and find him," she replied, her voice uncertain as she looked at him.
Thorin felt his brow rise in surprise at this. "Gandalf? What do you think the wizard could do for you?"
With a deep breath she replied, "It was magic that brought me to being outside of your workshop the other night. I know it. If Gandalf really is a wizard, like you say he is, maybe he can help me find my way home?"
If anything, that had not been what Thorin had been expecting her to say. She hadn't mentioned any suspicion of magic before this.
"What is going on?" Dwalin rumbled a frown forming on his face.
"Hermione sought shelter in my workshop from the storms that passed through six days ago. She had no recollection of how she came to be in the town, and after some discussion determined that she is many leagues from home," Thorin said as way of explanation, before turning back to look at Hermione. "She never mentioned anything about magic, though."
"I'm sorry, I didn't know how receptive you would be to the idea," she said defensively. "And, you never said anything about being a king."
Thorin found himself frowning at this, "I already told you that I apol..," he began.
"I know," she said hastily, holding her hand up in defense. "I just need to know if you know where I can find the wizard."
"I do not." Thorin replied succinctly, however in his mind he tumbled over all that he knew of the wizard. He was always traveling places, but there was one place he frequently mentioned. The shire. He mentioned that he enjoyed visiting the small-folk for their Beltane festival.
"Lass, he travels far and wide. He is a difficult wizard to find," Dwalin was saying as Thorin thought of what time of year it was. It was still early and there were a few weeks until Beltane be upon them.
"The shire," he said decisively. "The best place to look for him at this time of year would be the shire."
"And where is that?" Hermione asked, and Thorin could see a hopefully look on her face that he had never seen before. It made her look younger, he thought to himself.
"It is to the south west," Dwalin supplied, pointing in its general direction.
"We will pass close to it on our journey to the Blue Mountains," Thorin added.
"Well then, I would most certainly like to continue to travel with you. If you will have me, that is," Hermione replied a hopeful smile growing across her face.
"Of course," Thorin said with a nod of his head. "Dwalin, are you ready to travel, or do you need time to gather supplies."
"I can be ready within the hour," Dwalin replied confidently.
"Very well, we continue to head west as soon as you are ready."
Traveling with Dwalin was reminiscent of years past, before they had finally settled in the Blue Mountains. The two of them were content to walk in silence, and Dwalin's presence seemed to have quieted Hermione. Thorin suspected that was mostly because of Dwalin's rather intimidating appearance.
They traveled until nightfall, and Thorin tasked Hermione with building a fire while he and Dwalin went in search of food they might be able to scavenge from the local fauna and flora. It was only once they were out of earshot that Dwalin broke the comfortable silence.
"Why are you traveling with that woman," he asked bluntly as they eyed the surrounding landscape.
It took Thorin more than a moment to reply. It was convenient for the woman, but not necessarily for him. It was the right thing to do, help a fellow wanderer, and it had grown strangely comfortable after the past few days.
Thorin finally settled on one reason. "Because she needed help."
Dwalin grunted in obvious displeasure. "I don't trust her."
Thorin could not help but roll his eyes a bit at that. "And what do you think she is going to do that is so untrustworthy."
"She could be anything. A thief, a spy, an assassin," Dwalin replied gruffly. "You say she just happened to wander into your workshop in the middle of a storm. It seems mighty convenient that she happened to wander upon you like that."
Thorin paused as he thought about that. There had been some assassination attempts in the past. Obviously none of them had succeeded as he was still alive, but he did have a rather nasty scar along his side where a would be assassin had gotten close enough to stab him.
"She is harmless," Thorin said with a shake of her head. "Her dagger wasn't even sharp enough to break skin."
"Wasn't?" Dwalin asked, raising an eyebrow as he glanced over at his friend.
"I sharpened it for her," Thorin replied quickly.
"Of course you did," Dwalin scoffed.
"So you think she is just waiting to slit my throat in the night? She has had plenty of chances."
"Or she is just waiting until she gets whatever information she needs out of you," Dwalin suggested.
Thorin just frowned grumpily at this. Hermione did ask a lot of questions. Maybe it was to throw him off guard so he would answer something that he would have originally not intended to share.
"You watch her the next few days and tell me what you think," Thorin conceded grumpily. "I still think she is mostly harmless."
It was dark when they returned to the campsite, and a small cheerful fire greeted them. While they were away Hermione had worked on laying out the bedrolls around the small blaze. She looked up at Thorin and Dwalin as they approached and Thorin could not help but give a small proud smile to her as he took in the warmth of the fire.
They set the few small tubers they had found by the fire and put the small pot they had onto the fire in order to make a stew.
While Dwalin cut the tubers into smaller pieces, Thorin worked on drawing Hermione into conversation.
"You have asked me many questions about the land we are traveling through, but I have been remiss in not asking you about your own. What is your homeland like?"
The question seemed to surprise her, and she seemed to search his face, for what he did not know, but finally she spoke. "It is different than here," she answered, a far away look passing across her face. "Your lands seem to be mostly untamed, but where I am from, it is rare to see such open wilderness. The towns are all close together and there are cities large enough to hold hundreds of the towns that we have passed through."
"It sounds like a crowded and unpleasant place," Dwalin said, as he plopped the tubers into the simmering pot.
"It isn't so bad," Hermione supplied. "Just different, and more advance than anything that I have seen here so far."
"You should have seen Erebor when it was at its peak," Thorin responded. "It was the shining jewel of everything that my people have ever accomplished, and outshined the cities of men and elves in every way."
Hermione only gave him a sad smile. "I am sure it was wonderful," she said softly, as she stared into the fire. They drifted into silence once more, and Thorin found himself examining her from across the fire. It might have been a trick of the light, but Thorin thought he might have seen tears developing in her eyes.
"I am sure you will see it again one day," he said softly.
Her head jerked quickly to look at him, and a small watery smile graced her face. "Thank you," she murmured, before quickly wiping her hand across her eyes. "I think I am going to turn in for the night. Good Night, Thorin, Dwalin."
Dwalin only grunted in reply, but Thorin nodded to her. "Good night, Hermione."
Later that evening, at Dwalin's insistence that they set up watches, Thorin found himself the only one of the three awake, his pipe smoldering in his hand. The land around them was quiet, except for the soft chirp of an occasional cricket.
He was dozing when he noticed that Hermione was not sleeping peacefully and that she was beginning to toss and turn in her sleep.
And then, she was suddenly sitting upright, her arms wrapped around her middle as though she were in pain. Her eyes snapped open, and their gazes connected.
"Thorin…" she gasped out.
There was a flash of light from where she had been sitting.
And then she was gone.
Thorin blinked.
"What in Mahal's name just happened…" he whispered to himself. Her bedroll was empty, and there was no sign as to what had just occurred.
He glanced over at where Dwalin's bedroll was, and found that his friend was awake.
"Did you just see that?" Thorin asked, his voice uncertain.
"Aye," Dwalin said, just as mystified as Thorin. "She just disappeared."
Note: Dun-dun-duh! Oh no, Hermione! You disappeared again!
So, you have all been waiting to hear more about Hermione's side of the story and a bit more about the curse. The next chapter will be all Hermione. But do not fear, she will be back with our lovely Thorin before too long!
Until next time!