Note: Here's Ch 4!

Chapter IV

Thorin sat down with everyone else whilst Eruanna stood behind him, leaning against the frame of the house. "What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?", Balin asked.

"Aye, envoys from all seven Kingdoms", Thorin answered. The dwarves voiced their happiness. "What of the dwarves of the Iron Hills, is Dain with us?", Dwalin asked.

"They will not come", Thorin said. The dwarves groaned in disappointment. "They say this quest is our's and our's alone", he continued.

"You're going on a quest", a curious Bilbo piped up.

"Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light", Gandalf said, leaning over and spreading out a map. "Far to the east, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single, solitary peak", he spoke.

"The Lonely Mountain", Bilbo read the map and Eruanna smirked.

"Aye, Oin has read the portents and the portents say, it is time", Gloin said.

"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", Oin spoke.

"Prophecies, prophecies, prophecies", Eruanna murmured. She never cared much for them. "Beast? What beast?", Bilbo asked.

"Well that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks and extremely fond of precious metals", Bofur rambled on.

"Yes, I know what a dragon is", Bilbo said.

"Greatest calamity? My dragons are elemental dragons, the strongest and rarest of their type", Eruanna thought. Not even a Black Arrow could take them down.

"I'm not afraid! I'm up for it! I'll give him a taste of Dwarvish iron right up his jacksies!", Ori exclaimed, shooting up in excitement. The dwarves cheered. "Sit down!", Dori said to him, laughing.

"You are so naive", Eruanna said bluntly. Everyone looked at her. "You think you can kill a dragon? Your allies won't provide you anything to help, and even if they did, it would be of little worth. Dragons are fiercer than even the mightiest of Dwarf lords. They will crush your bodies under their feet and burn you alive, watching with sadistic grins as you die in agony from the flames they let loose onto you. Be very afraid. The odds of you coming out in one piece and not in ashes are very slim. You will all be dead before you know it. The dragon shall end your lives and think nothing of it."

"And the task would be difficult enough with an army behind us but we number just 13. Not 13 of the best. Nor brightest", Balin agreed with her. She laughed.

"Who are you calling dim?", one dwarf shouted. "What did he say?", another demanded.

"We may be few in number, but we're fighters, all of us! To the last dwarf!", Fili exclaimed, forgetting about Eruanna. Not that she cared. "And did you forget? We have a wizard in our company, Gandalf would've killed hundreds of dragons in his time!", Kili added. Eruanna looked at Gandalf with a smirk, who desperately searched for words. "N-no I-I wouldn't say", the Wizard stammered out.

"How many then? How many dragons have you killed?", Dori asked.

Gandalf stayed silent, smoking on his pipe.

"Go on, give us a number", came the shout and the dwarves erupted, yelling over each other.

Eruanna sighed, looking at her dragons. Helegiel and Ceveniel looked pissed while Faroniel was thoroughly annoyed. Sûlion and Naurion looked ready to kill the dwarves. The dwarves were fools, she thought. Loud, messy fools.

"Enough!", Thorin shouted, standing up. The dwarves fell silent. "If we have read these signs do you think others will not have read them too? Word has spread, the dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes now look to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risks. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours or do we seize this chance to retake Erebor!", Thorin and the dwarves cheered in excitement.

"You forget the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain", Balin interrupted.

"That my dear Balin is not exactly true", Gandalf said, lifting up a key and twirling it in his fingers. Thorin watched in shock. "How did you come by this?", he asked. "It was given to me by your father, by Thrain", Gandalf said.

"To reclaim all your beloved gold", Eruanna thought to herself. As long as they did not need to go to any of the elven realms (because she had kin there), they should be fine and she should be able to get out of this without revealing too much of her identity.

Eruanna feared the moment Thorin traced out her lineage, he would strike her dead. "If there's a key, there must be a door", Kili realized.

"These runes speak of another passage into the lower halls", Gandalf pointed to a spot on the map and the Dragoness looked over.

"There's another way in", Fili said with excitement.

"Well, if we can find it. Dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map and I do not have the skill to read it but there are others in Middle Earth who can", Gandalf spoke. Eruanna recognized the runes as her maternal grandfather had read runes very similar to them. She had long forgotten what type of runes they were and she wasn't too skilled at reading them. But she speculated that these were moon runes. Not that she informed the company.

"Has your daeradar taught you to read these?", Gandalf asked her. "He did, but the knowledge has long left my mind. I was only a young girl when he taught me", Eruanna said, leaning forward slightly.

"The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage but if we are careful and clever, I believe it can be done", Gandalf said, abruptly changing the subject.

"Which is why we need a burglar", Oin spoke up.

"A good one too. An expert I'd imagine", Bilbo said, causing everyone to look at him.

"And are you?", Gloin asked. Bilbo looked nervous and flustered. "Am I what?", he asked.

"He says he's an expert!", Oin laughed, misunderstanding completely. "Idiots", Eruanna muttered as the dwarves laughed in joy.

"Me? No, no, no, I'm not a burglar. I've never stolen a thing in my life", Bilbo said. "I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He's hardly burglar material", Balin said. "Aye the wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves", Dwalin said. Just then the dwarves got loud again, shouting and yelling. Eruanna's temper flared.

"ENOUGH", she roared, startling the dwarves. "Valar, enough! Is your goal to reclaim a Kingdom or give me a migraine!? Let the wizard speak and defend his choice if he can."

"If I say Mr. Baggins is a burglar then a burglar he is! Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can go unseen by most if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a hobbit is all but unknown to him which gives us a distinct advantage", Gandalf said. He looked at Thorin, determined to make his point. "You asked me to find the fifteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There is a lot more to him than appearances suggest, and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including himself", Gandalf finished.

Eruanna looked at Bilbo. The poor thing looked flabbergasted and exasperated. She gave him an apologetic smile. "Very well, we'll do it your way. Give him the contract", Thorin motioned to Balin. Balin handed Bilbo a scroll. "It's just the usual summary - out of pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements and so forth."

"Funeral arrangements?", Bilbo muttered.

"Why am I here then?", Eruanna Úlumiel asked. Gandalf looked at her. "You are here, because you know more about dragons than any of us. We need you, your knowledge, your powers, your spirit and your connections", he whispered so that the dwarves wouldn't hear. "You have more to offer than any of the dwarves here know."

Balin looked at her. "You need one lass?", he asked, handing her a contract. "It's Eruanna. And no, I don't need one, I already know the risks."

"Lacerations...evisceration... incineration!", Bilbo exclaimed as he read through the contract. "Aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye", Bofur said. Eruanna groaned. Bilbo went pale.

"You alright laddie?", Balin asked.

"Yes, I feel a bit faint", Bilbo admitted.

"Think furnace with wings. Flash of light, searing pain, then POOF! You're nothing more than a pile of ash!", Bofur said, absolutely not helping.

"Nope", Bilbo said, fainting on the floor.

Eruanna growled and slammed her hand on the table, startling Bofur. "Very helpful, you fool! If this quest fails, know that you can blame yourself and your stupidity for it!", she roared.

Later that night, Eruanna hummed the Song of Beren and Lúthien as she walked down the corridors of Bilbo's home, watching the young hobbit go to his bedroom. She was still amazed at how short and small everything (and everyone) was compared to her. The Dragon Princess looked around when she came upon Thorin and Balin. She leaned against the wall, listening to their conversation.

"It appears we have lost our burglar", Balin said. Eruanna smirked. As if the hobbit was a burglar anyways. "Probably for the best", the old dwarf said. "After all, what are we? Merchants, miners, tinkers, toy-makers; hardly the stuff of legend."

"There are a few warriors amongst us", Thorin said. "Old warriors", Balin countered.

"I will take each and every one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills. For when I called upon them, they came. Loyalty, honor, a willing heart; I can ask no more than that." Eruanna couldn't help but smile at Thorin's words. Perhaps he was more than just gold, Kingdom and glory.

"You don't have to do this. You have a choice. You've done honorably by our people. You have built us a life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor", Balin said. Eruanna's smile faded and her face became melancholic.

Thorin withdrew the dwarvish key Gandalf had given him. "From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me. They dreamt of the day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin. Not for me."

"Then we are with you laddie. We'll see it done", Balin said. Thorin nodded and walked off glaring at Eruanna as he passed. "Don't be too worried about him, lass", Balin said.

Eruanna looked at him. Balin honestly didn't know what to think of the Dragon Princess. Thorin believed she was not to be trusted. Most of the dwarves followed him unfailingly in that aspect, still bitter over the dwarves of Erebor being left to burn by the elves who simply didn't have the strength to go up against the dragon.

There was something different about Eruanna Úlumiel. She had a powerful presence. Anyone could quiver under her stone face. But her face was softer now and she had a less frightening demeanor.

"You heard", Balin said.

"Not too much if it bothers you", Eruanna responded. She cocked her head. "Tell me, Balin, what matters more to you? A mountain of gold in a forsaken palace crushed by a dragon? Or a peaceful home?"

Balin opened his mouth, considering her question. "Home", he finally said. "Home, peace and prosperity."

"I pray for those things too", Eruanna nodded. Her dragons had latched themselves onto her to sleep, their small nails digging into her softly so they would not draw blood. She looked at the aging dwarf. "What does that gold mean to you?"

"It is the great treasure hoard of our people", Balin said. "The crown jewel among them is the Arkenstone. We were known for that treasure horde. It symbolized our prosperity. It is what drove the dragon to us, its lust for gold brought down Erebor and Dale, a city of men, down in one day. Yet, even without the dragon, gold has its own curse. King Thror, Thorin's grandfather, loved gold above all. A sickness grew in his mind, a sickness which drove him mad."

"What does that gold mean to me, lass? It is either the promise of a future or the doom of our past coming to haunt us again", Balin said. "All I hope is that Thorin does not succumb to the sickness."

A sickness due to gems. To be obsessed over something as fickle as gems, gems which could easily be replaced, perplexed her. Eruanna could hardly comprehend what that would be like, even with all the old stories her great-grandparents had told her about how a Noldorin King, Fëanor, led his seven sons to their doom all over the Silmarils, sacking kingdoms and killing their own kin before most died horribly. It was said that if her paternal grandfather had a weakness, it was for silver and white gems. She hoped he wasn't afflicted with that sickness.