DISCLAIMER: Let's get this out of the way. I do not own or have any hope of ever owning the characters or happenings of middle earth. They belong to Tolkien and as far as I'm concerned he can keep them. For now. I do however, own my OC, Kidhuzel! So don't steal her. Please, feel free to leave any comments and/or questions that you may have. Follow the story in which ever way you would like, but make your thoughts known but be polite while you do it. Thank you!
~~~~~~~~~~Shishi~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 3
Sitting down beside his king with a tired breath, the snowy bearded dwarrow makes himself comfortable. Balin is not a young dwarf anymore and it is beginning to show every now and again in his movements. He has seen his fair share of battles and death as well as, on rare occasions, reconciliations and births. He is sure that this will be one of the last adventures his old bones will allow him, yet he couldn't ask for a better one. To reclaim the lonely mountain is an undertaking worthy of a ballad or two, even with the unlikelihood of success. Many obstacles lay between the company and Erebor; the biggest being a major gamble on their part. For who other than dwarves would brave a potential dragon? Something tells the elderly dwarf that the Shire doesn't hold many volunteers. As if on cue firm grumbling and a steady shuffling from the hall can be heard. The dwarf pair turn as one to watch their large footed host march into his quarters with his head held high.
"It appears we have lost our burglar. Probably for the best. The odds were always against us." Balin shakes a heavy head and looks out over his companions. All so ready for what the adventure will prize them with but not fully aware of what it may cost them "After all, what are we? Merchants, miners, tinkers, toy makers. Hardly the stuff of legend."
"There are a few warriors amongst us." Thorin does not contradict his friend, knowing that he speaks the truth. Most of these dwarves, while all trained in at least two weapons, are not the battle hardened soldiers he expected
"Old warriors." the advisor answers, cracking his back
"I would take each and every one of these dwarves over an army from the iron hills, for when I called upon them, they answered." The bitterness is the king's voice is clear. Though their choice is understandable, there is a pain within him from having been completely denied aid from his kin. First the elves and now even his fellow dwarves: there seems to be almost no one who the dwarf can rely on without fail "Loyalty, honor, and a willing heart. I can ask no more than that."
"You don't have to do this." Balin attempts to comfort his friend. Many years has he stood beside the dwarf and with each of those many years he has watched his face grow weary and hard beneath the crown of power "You have a choice. You've done honorably by our people."
"And yet only twelve would follow me to reclaim our homeland." he replies with a snort though there is no anger behind it "They have grown content in Ered Luin."
"Can you blame them? There is safety and surety within the mountains you found for us." shrugging his shoulders and leaning back into the curve of the wall, Balin gestures to the chain shining beneath Thorin's collar with a slight tease in his voice "There are plenty of metals left to mine, though none as exquisite as your Kidhuzel. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains."
"Kidhuzel is a prince's jewel Balin, but I shall become a king." He deliberately unhooks the thick chain to bring the pendant to his face. It swings back and forth lazily as the fire in the next room dances over the surface "It is nothing compared to the Arkenstone, but it is all I have. With this quest, I can give my people more; the lives they lost. The ones they deserve."
"All they wish for is a life of peace and plenty, which you have given them." It had been hard, as the Blue Mountains are not nearly as rich as Erebor but the dwarves have finally found a way to make it work after years of hardship. Placing his weathered hands over the monarch's equally rough ones, he pushes the pendant back against his friend's chest "A life worth more than all the gold in Erebor."
"From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me. They dreamt of this day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland." Closing his eyes, the dwarf clenches his fist around the golden sphere. Many times he has wished to be rid of it. It almost seems as though it grows heavier with each year; no doubt a reflection of the heavily burdened crown left to him by his father. Unable to discard it or his people, he must painfully cherish them both to the best of his ability "There is no choice, Balin. Not for me."
"Then we are with you, laddie." Releasing his hands, the elder dwarf pats his companion on the shoulder before rising to leave the dwarf to his heavy thoughts "We will see it done."
Letting out a sigh, Thorin allows his head to lean against the cool wall. The chain almost seems too heavy to replace upon his neck, as if wearing it again would surely kill him. Peering down at the object, he runs his thumb over golden surface wondering, not for the first time, what is within it. Upon first receiving the gift, when shaken one could hear something rattling inside. Numerous attempts at cracking it open led to failure and broken anvils but eventually the rattling within stopped, leaving behind only a heavy stone and wonder. Tossing the nugget into the air, but still unable to bring himself to wear it again, the dwarf allows his mind to wander. Rising to stand by the fire place, the king falls back into his memories of flames and loss.
"Far over the misty mountains cold. To dungeons deep and caverns old. We must away ere break of day." As Thorin's low voice rumbles through the words, his men join him in the somber moment. A song of the painful past as well as the optimistically brighter future. Tightening his fist around his Kidhuzel as the next lyric rolls around, Thorin feels hope for the first time in a long time "To find our long forgotten gold."
"The pines were roaring on the height, the winds were moaning in the night."
Working her throat muscles, the little egg imagines what it would be like to roar. The song speaks to her;bring both sorrow and understanding. Opening her mouth, a squeak escapes much to her pride. Wind is harder to imagine, as she has only been able hear it through her shell. Yet, on some nights when it is blowing exceptionally strong, it does remind her of a high pitched roar.
"The fire was red, it flaming spread." Fire. The little egg inhabitant loves the glorious heat and longs to feel the lick of flames upon her. Just as the language of her sire, she knows fire is important yet she cannot create it. Try as she might, fire is always furthest from her grasp "The trees like torches blazed with light."
The song dies down and the majority of the dwarves drift away. Some drink, some think, but all attempt to make the best of the young night for tomorrow will begin their journey. The king remains by the fire, glaring into it as though it has personally offended him. It is not until his drunken nephews approach him, that the spell is broken.
"Uncle…" his eldest, Fili, calls in a voice lightened with liquor "You're not wearing it?"
"What do you speak of, Namadinudoy?"
"The egg." Kili answers as his brother blinks blurrily. His sister's second son had always referred to his momentum as an egg, insisting that there was probably some mummified creature within it. Stranger still, this only increased the curious questions on what creature could have made such a casing "If you won't wear it, can I?"
"You know my answer on this." Thorin denies and turns from the flames only to feel his arm knocked forward by a heavy weight. Catching the terrifying sight of Kili tumbling over his own feet in his drunken state and landing face first in the embers, the dwarf immediately helps him up "Kili! Are you alright?"
"Yes but-"
"Then be more careful!" despite the prince stating that he was unharmed, the king looks him over for any possible injuries. After a thorough inspection and only finding soot on his clothes, Thorin nods to himself before continuing "You are not a child to trip over his laces anymore. We go to possibly face a dragon and on the first night you are already jumping into the flames!"
"I-I-I'm sorry, Uncle." the young dwarf bows his head in shame and embarrassment as the rest of the company gather at the noise. Their murmurs only serve to redden the boy's cheeks as he searches for a way to escape the attention "I did not think-"
"You never think, Kili!"
"It was an accident, uncle." Seeing the distress of his companion, Fili jumps in to defend his little brother. Kili offers his sibling a small thankful smile but doesn't quite raise his head for fear of further chastising "It will not happen again."
"See to it that it does not." eyeing his heir critically, the dwarf tries to cover the fear he felt run through him at seeing his kin lying in the flames. Again. Even if it was just for a moment, it was a moment too long "Your brother is your responsibility."
As the dwarves go through the art of bickering and reconciliation, none notice a seemingly unimportant event has occurred. Upon pulling Kili from the flames, Thorin left behind the tiny trapped creature within them. Each crackle and pop of the wood is echoed by the expanding egg. For it does not simply break open and free the creature within, but rather it grows significantly until it is roughly the size of an oddly shaped pumpkin.
"Thorin." Balin speaks in a shaky voice that immediately halts the lecture on the king's tongue "I think it may be best to call the wizard in."
"Why would we… need…" Gazing into the fire, the group watches in awe as before their very eyes the jewel that Thorin has carried for so many years begins melting into the form of a young dwarf child "Mahal…"
The gold blends into her skin, coating her flesh with a thin shiny covering before ebbing away. Hair as black as night roots her electric blue tresses to her head only to blend seamlessly with the fire red ends.* Golden eyes blink at the room as she steps carefully out of flames, giving them a better view of her. What they see has them drawing their weapons. For upon her head are two small horns that match the thin, black, spiked tail wrapped around her calf. Nails so sharp they resemble claws have made a home on her hands and when she lets out a yawn, one can see her four sharp canines. Inky wings reach from around her back like a cloak to shield her nakedness but it is her eyes that are most noteworthy. No white shows within them; only endless golden depths with one thin cat like, or more properly dragon like, pupil resting in each orb. Those eyes drift from face to face as if searching for something until they land on Thorin. Immediately she grins widely and rushes forward to greet her bearer only to be blocked by the bald dwarf, Dwalin.
"Stay back wyrm." he growls as his lifts his axe threateningly, for there is no way she could be mistaken for anything else to him "I'll not let ye lay a claw on my king."
"B-but she's just a child…" Ori whispers in protest, unable to process what is happening. He can clearly see that she is no ordinary being but at the same time he cannot ignore the morals that have been instilled in every dwarf since birth. Dwarflings and Dams are meant to be protected and cherished. She is both, regardless of her oddities "You can't…"
"Do not be fooled by her illusions, Ori." his eldest brother murmurs, pulling the knitted dwarf away from the possible battle field. Scanning for his middle brother, Dori spots him at a safe distance before continuing "There is no way that a dwarf and dragon could create a child. She only takes our image to trick us."
"What is your business here."
Having finally come to investigate the disturbance, Gandalf cautiously studies the creature before him. He is not so foolish as to believe that she has cast some illusion on them to make her seem as though she is something she is not. Yet, how she came to be is not something he wishes to acknowledge just yet. She stands very still, eyes only for the dwarf king behind the muscled dwarf and even with the short period of interaction the wizard cannot help but feel that she means him no harm. The others are an unknown, and their safety is important as well. Without turning to face him, she answers his question.
"My hoard."
"You shall not gain a coin of my kingdom's treasure!" Having remained quiet since he laid eyes on the strange creature, Thorin is roughly thrown back into the fray at her statement. Not once does she blink, making him all but fall beneath her golden gaze as if it were the treasure he seeks "I will not allow another dragon to ransack our sacred halls! Stealing our wealth and home from beneath us. Be gone if that is your wish!"
"I care not for your wealth or home as I found enough comfort and care simply hanging around your neck for so many years." she tilts her head to the side but still refuses to break eye contact with the dwarf "I simply wish to be with my hoard."
"You-" Dwalin takes a threatening step toward the little girl, who despite her delicate manner of speech does not look to be any older than 3, but is stopped by his brother "Balin?"
"What… what is your hoard?" He asks, voice already showing that he has his suspicions
"My hoard is not a 'what' but rather a 'whom.'" her teeth flash frighteningly as she grins once more "Yesterday. Today. Tomorrow. Forever. It has always been, is, and will always be Thorin."
~~~~~~~~~~Shishi~~~~~~~~~~
*Her hair is mostly blue but the roots are black and the end are red.
At last! Chapter 3! How wonderful it is, wouldn't you agree? Or would you disagree?! Speak your mind fair reader, and it shall be heard. Or stay silent and dishearten this lonesome writer. Thank you Laura, angel897, YMR, watergoddesskasey, likarian, obsessed reader, and jesusfreak3791 for your reviews. Some of you are noew and some have returned to my ranks. I'm happy either way. ~Shishi