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Mending the Broken Pieces	By : LadyLaran Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Het - Male/Female Views: 13613 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own "the Hobbit" nor do I make money from this story. Tolkien and Jackson are the ones who own the characters and world.

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Author’s Note – We’re out of Beorn’s now but still a bit in transition before Mirkwood. We’ll be hitting that next week with the new chapter. You guys are awesome; I really hope you know that! Thank you so much for your support and kind words with every review.

Disclaimer – I do not own “the Hobbit” nor do I make any money from this story. The song used in this story is “Evening Falls” and is owned by Enya. I don’t own or make money from the song; I’m simply borrowing it!

Chapter Twenty-eight – Camping

It had not been easy to take their leave from their host, and Thorin told Beorn that he would always be welcome in Erebor once the mountain was theirs again. He meant it too because he knew his One would not have survived if the shape changer had not provided assistance. This was a debt he could never repay, and he was very much aware of it.

The company rode towards the forest, leaving the safety of Beorn’s lands and entering a wild area where they could gather game to supplement the supplies given to them. The shape shifter had suggested taking a day or two to do such a thing, knowing that not everyone could stay to the same dietary restrictions he himself did. Thorin dismounted, going to help Hawthorn from her pony, and he caught the stricken expression on her face.

“What troubles you, Hawthorn?”

“Too much was lost in the goblin caves,” she answered, steadying herself by leaning against him for a moment after her feet had touched the ground. “I just thought of one that may end up being something we will need. The letter from Lord Elrond was one of the items lost, and that would have gone a long way in keeping us out of trouble while in Mirkwood.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Gandalf answered, overhearing her words as he aided in setting up camp. “There is no love lost between Elrond and Thranduil, and I have my doubts as to whether or not my dear friend’s missive would be of use in the forest.”

“Erestor had said something about them not really getting along, but I thought he was embellishing things,” the hobbit told him.

“Would that you were right, my dear, but unfortunately, Thranduil has a lot of grievances against the other elven realms. Some might be considered to have merit while others would be viewed as someone jealous of others,” the Istar stated, guiding her to a place to sit down since he knew Thorin and the others would be preparing to hunt.

“I have no desire to run into the elf king,” Hawthorn admitted in a quiet tone. “Given what I discovered while in Rivendell, Mithrandir, I don’t believe I could hold my tongue and not let him know exactly what I think of him and his so-called grievances. What he has done is unforgivable, and the Valar will have much to say to him for his actions and inactions when the time comes.”

The wizard met her gaze for several long moments before his eyes softened and he gave her a loving smile. He rested a gentle hand against her cheek, leaving it there for several moments.

“Truly, my dear Hawthorn, you have the greatest heart and spirit Yavanna has ever gifted to Her children,” he told her, making the hobbit blush. “You are exactly what Thorin and his people need.”

“I think it’s more that he’s what I need,” she answered freely. “He’s courageous, strong, and kind; I am so very lucky to have such a wonderful person as my cariad. He knows about my issues, Mithrandir, and he doesn’t see me as a halfling or something lesser than that.”

“Never use that word in reference to yourself again, my girl,” Gandalf scolded lightly. “You are exactly as you should be, and I will not hear of anyone calling you that – even yourself.”

Her head ducked for a moment, lifting when he gently pressed her chin upwards to force her to meet his eyes.

“I am incredibly happy for you, my dear, because I have wanted to see you find your cariad and be as blissfully in love as your parents were,” he continued. “I fully expect a wedding invitation, and I promise that you will have the grandest fireworks display to celebrate.”

“Just having you there is more than enough for me,” Hawthorn replied, giving him a smile when he chuckled.

“True but this will be an occasion that will call for the best I have ever done. You are a granddaughter to me so allow me this chance to spoil you as you deserve,” the wizard stated, chuckling when she blushed and acceded to his request. “Good, now I fear I must speak of darker things before our paths diverge. I do not have time to examine the item you found in the caves so I must ask you to keep it with you until I return and can determine just what it is.”

“The sooner, the better,” the hobbit told him. “I felt sickened after I wore it briefly, Mithrandir, and I dislike having it so close to me. While invisibility could be useful, I have no desire to wear it again. It’s unnatural and so very unnerving.”

“I promise it will be taken care of once it’s identified. Magical items have to be disposed of in the proper way or things could become rather unpleasant,” he assured her. “As for the other, keep a sharp eye on the company. Radagast and Beorn both spoke of Mirkwood, and the news was worrying. It will not be an easy journey, especially for you as hobbits have a bond with the earth and all things that grow. You must keep them on the path.”

“I will do my best,” she promised.

“I know you will,” the wizard told her, giving a gentle smile. “I expect to hear the tales of your travels through the woods and to Laketown upon my return.”

“I expect to hear of your own adventure,” the hobbit retorted, making him chuckle. “It has to be something important to pull your attention away from the mountain and its pest problem so please be careful, Mithrandir.”

“I will do my best,” Gandalf promised, hugging her close for several moments. “You’ve started smiling again, little blossom, and I hope to hear you sing tonight.”

At the nickname she’d not heard in so long, Hawthorn granted him another smile that she’d not felt the urge to give since the attack and subsequent injury. Being amongst the company and finding her cariad had been life changing for her, and she could hope that the emotional wounds she’d carried for so long would finally heal.

“I think I can be persuaded to do so,” she told him, getting up to help Bombur prepare the ingredients for tonight’s meal once the hunters returned.

The hunters had been successful, bringing in several different types of game, and Hawthorn helped where she could to prepare the meat so it wouldn’t spoil. She’d also gone over the food some of the others had managed to discover, ensuring they were safe to eat. All in all, it had been a successful day and she knew her betrothed would probably send the group out to hunt again to ensure there would not be a problem with food while in Mirkwood.

The meal passed with a great deal of laughter and stories, and Gandalf gave Hawthorn an expectant look once the food had been eaten and dishes washed. He had been quite serious about hoping to hear her sing tonight, and she knew he would be disappointed if she refused.

“I take it you’re wanting me to sing tonight, Mithrandir?”

“If you don’t mind indulging an old man,” he answered, eyes twinkling.

“I suppose,” she said with a shake of her head.

“Would you mind singing the one you wrote and sang before we reached Rivendell,” Ori asked, making her smile.

Hawthorn nodded, drawing in a breath and began to sing.

“When the evening falls and the daylight is fading, from within me calls, could it be I am sleeping? For a moment I stray, then it holds me completely. Close to home – I cannot say. Close to home, feeling so far away. As I walk the room, there before me a shadow from another world, where no other can follow. Carry me to my own, to where I can cross over. Close to home – I cannot say. Close to home, feeling so far away. Forever searching; never right. I am lost in oceans of night. Forever hoping I can find memories, those memories I left behind. Even though I leave will I go on believing that this time is real – am I lost in this feeling? Like a child passing through, never knowing the reason. I am home- I Know the way. I am home – feeling oh, so far away.”

“You’ve got a talent for writing songs,” Balin said with a soft smile. “Makes me glad I snapped you up for the Scrivener’s Guild before someone from the music guild found out. Are there a lot of song writers in the Shire?”

“Not really, most music in the Shire revolves around food or drink, and so people simply keep to the classics. I preferred to branch out a bit more. My parents encouraged me, and I learned a lot from Lindir regarding music,” she answered.

“It’s a good thing,” Bofur commented. “Now, I think we need to liven things up a bit.”

Those who still had their instruments began to play, filling the air with the lively tune that the hat wearing dwarf had started. Kili began singing, launching into a rather funny song about a dwarf warrior trying to woo a very stubborn dwarrowdam; he was translating it to sing in Westron so Hawthorn could understand it. She was giggling at the lyrics, shaking her head at the antics of the company.

When the song ended, she clapped and then blinked when Bifur made a comment. Bombur chuckled and nodded.

“He’s right; we should have some fun tonight and enjoy the music properly.”

“How does one do that,” Hawthorn asked, tilting her head slightly.

“Dancing,” Dwalin answered. “Do hobbits not dance?”

“Oh they do,” she replied. “Our dances are usually more along the lines of jigs and a few couple’s styled ones. How about dwarrow dances?”

“We have a mix of formal to informal,” Thorin replied. “Music and dancing are good entertainment for everyone and always lifts the spirits on the darkest of nights.”

“I think we should teach Hawthorn some of our dances while we have the time,” Gloin suggested, knowing his niece would need to know their dances for the ball after the wedding and coronation.

“I don’t know that I could do the faster paced ones,” she told them.

“True but the slower ones are nice,” Fili commented. “They’re used often for formal events and will be used for the ball that’ll be held after the wedding so you’ll need to learn those.”

Thorin rose to his feet, walking over to his betrothed. He bowed, offering her his hand as he did so.

“May I have this dance, my lady?”

“I haven’t danced in years,” she warned. “I’ll be a disaster to teach because I’m out of practice and not as agile as I should be.”

“You’ll be just fine,” he told her, helping her to her feet.

Hawthorn watched as he demonstrated the steps, chewing her lower lip as she tried to commit the steps to memory. Outside of playing for her parents after her injury and occasionally dancing with her parents, she’d not danced with anyone before and after losing them, she’d forgotten about dancing at all since she had never been invited to those parties.

Once she felt somewhat confident, Thorin guided her into the dance and helped her through the steps whenever she managed to get a little confused at times. He smiled at her mistakes, eyes shining in combined light of the setting sun and the fire, but not once did he laugh at her.

It was a memory Hawthorn would cherish forever; she danced with him for two songs before Fili laughingly stole her away from his uncle, and a round of pass the hobbit began as she would dance for a few moments with one dwarf before another would steal her away. It went on for a while before she pleaded exhaustion, eventually going to her bedroll. The hobbit fell asleep, dreaming of blue eyes and a deep voice.

Author’s End Note - Transition piece but since we’re going into a darker area of the story, I felt a bit a light hearted fluff was needed before we plunge into the dark of Mirkwood. I hope everyone enjoyed this. Thank you so much for reading; please let me know what you thought of the chapter! See everyone next week. ~ Laran
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Mending the Broken Pieces