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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 – I’m really pleased with the reception the chapters regarding Laketown has been getting. All of you are happy with the changes and the details put into it, and that really is a motivator to continue working. I think I have the best readers in the world; thank you so much for being so supportive! You have no idea how much writers really need that, and I enjoy posting days because I get amazing support and positive constructive criticism that helps me grow as a writer.

Disclaimer – I do not own “the Hobbit” nor do I make any money from this story.

Chapter Thirty-six – Journeying to Erebor

The company left the dilapidated town at daybreak several days after the conversation with Bard. Weapons, traveling gear, and food had been supplied, and the group headed out on a boat manned by the descendent of Girion. No one said much for most of the travel, and Hawthorn spent her time leaning against her adopted father’s shoulder as she stared at the massive mountain that was getting closer.

Bard helped unload the boat, then straightened up to look at the members of the company.

“I’ll be waiting for news; may the Valar keep you safe as you embark on this endeavor.”

“You have our thanks for the well wishes and the transport here,” Thorin told him, donning his pack and helping Hawthorn with hers.

The human went on his way, and the company headed towards their final destination. There was a bit of nervous energy that filled all of them, especially the older ones when they recognized familiar landmarks. Each new spot would have a story attached to it that was shared to the others.

It helped the journey go a bit faster, and spirits were high when they stopped to camp that night. Hawthorn did her share before being told to sit down, and she rested her leg and hip while listening to the chatter of the company.

“We will be at the mountain tomorrow,” Thorin stated, taking a seat beside her. “The ruins of Dale are not far from here, and Erebor is a few hours from there.”

“We’ll make it on time then,” she said softly.

“We will,” he agreed, sharpening the sword he’d been given by the men. “I must confess, I am not fond of the plan of sending you in to find the stone.”

“Even though I’ve been traveling with all of you for months, my scent will still be confusing to him,” the hobbit confided. “As much as I despise the thing, I’ll use the ring to stay hidden from the dragon as much as I can. I hope he’ll be too confused to start breathing fire, and that will buy me time to discover his weakness as well as find the Arkenstone.”

“Just promise me you’ll be careful, ukradel,” Thorin asked, making her look over at him.

“I promise, fy brenin,” the hobbit lass swore, kissing him softly. “We found each other, and I mean to see you rule wisely until Mandos decides it is time for our souls to leave this land.”

“I am so grateful to have found you,” he murmured, resting his forehead against hers. “I cannot imagine doing this without you.”

“We’ll get through this one step at a time,” she whispered. “You’ll have your home back, and everyone will be able to sleep at night in safety and with full bellies.”

“Yes they will,” the king-in-exile agreed, kissing her once again before leaning back, not wanting to risk the chance of being scolded by the company.

All of them had been keeping an eye on them after Dwalin accidentally shared the news of the rather intimate kiss he’d witnessed. Fortunately, Oin and Gloin hadn’t done much other than give Thorin a nasty look but it meant that everyone was ensuring the couple didn’t go beyond what was acceptable at this point.

“So I must ask, what does this Arkenstone look like,” she questioned, knowing she was going to need some idea of what this item was so she could identify it.

There was a bit of a silence as they pondered the question, and Balin broke the silence to answer the question she had asked.

“That’s not easy since your people are not familiar with gems and the nuances of color. The Arkenstone is large enough to fit in a fully grown dwarf’s hand, and it looks to be a mix of clear and white but there’s a prismatic effect it radiates.”

“So it’s a white rock that shines like a rainbow,” she asked, making Bofur snort and start laughing.

“With a hobbit for a queen, we’re going to have interesting conversations regarding ores, stones, and gems in the future. I can see it now; the miner’s guild and jeweler’s guilds will have a fit,” the toymaker said, snickering harder.

“It’s more than a rock, ukradel,” Thorin told her, looking caught between laughing and feeling a bit offended.

“Sorry, fy brenin, but all of these things are mathoms to us,” she stated. “We really don’t see the use in having them, and they’re a nuisance to keep clean. I hate dusting.”

“Wait, are you saying a mathom is a useless dust-catcher,” Fili asked, eyes wide when she nodded.

“Oh Mahal, wait till Mum hears this,” Kili shouted as he laughed. “She’s going to love Aunt Hawthorn to bits, I tell you.”

“I just insulted your rock, didn’t I,” the hobbit asked, blushing as she did so. “I’m sure it’s pretty and all that.”

Even Thorin and Dwalin couldn’t keep their laughter hidden when their burglar kept trying to make up for what she thought was an insult. The entire company was laughing, and Hawthorn soon figured it out and pouted.

“All of you are mean,” she sulked, crossing her arms childishly but her eyes were gleaming with mischief as she watched them laugh even more.

They all went to bed later that night, and every member of the company was in a merry mood thanks to the hobbit’s antics. Thorin knew she had overacted simply to keep their spirits high and it had been effective, even for him. He fell asleep, thinking of days where she would be silly in private just to keep her king and his advisers from killing someone.

Hawthorn lost her determination to keep her company laughing when they reached the ruins of Dale, and she froze at the sight of the destruction.

“Oh Yavanna,” she whispered, pressing her hand to her heart.

“They will rebuild, Hawthorn, and we’ll see it done,” Thorin assured her, slipping an arm around her waist and gently nudging her to continue moving. “This won’t happen again; there will be no hoard to draw another dragon.”

“The children must have been so frightened – here and in the mountain,” Hawthorn murmured, eyes full of tears.

“Everyone was,” he murmured, getting her to walk. “I was in my twenties when the dragon came; that’s what you would call the tween years. Dwarrow don’t reach adulthood until their seventy-fifth year so my siblings and I were terrified. I wanted to hide, but I had a responsibility to my people.”

“Why didn’t your father or grandfather do that,” she asked.

“Father was on a different level, activating an alarm to warn the miners,” Thorin shared. “Grandfather went after the Arkenstone and was nearly killed when he lost it in the treasury. He tried to go after it just as the dragon entered the room to make his nest.”

“Oh Thorin,” the hobbit murmured, leaning into him. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you, having to be the adult when your grandfather should have fulfilled his duties as king.”

“I lost all vestiges of childhood that day,” he admitted. “When Grandfather wanted to try to reclaim Khazad-dûm, he refused to hear Father’s words about Frerin and I being too young. I was in my fifties then, and my brother was younger than me. Father, Uncle Groin, and Uncle Fundin fought with him for days to get him to reconsider, but he wanted everyone who could wield a sword or ax on the battlefield to try to reclaim another source of wealth. Thirty years away from Erebor, and the gold was all he could think of.”

“What happened to drive him to that state, Thorin?”

“He was a good dwarf and loving to his family,” the one beside her answered. “He lost his One, and the slide into greed began. It was slow, almost unnoticeable, but it became worse after the Arkenstone was found. He refused to turn over the jewelry Thranduil had commissioned, stating he was trying to cheat the dwarrow of what they were owed. I remember that day; it caught me by surprise because I knew Thranduil had paid fairly in goods as well as gold. That’s when we realized something was incredibly wrong with him because he had always been one to treat his allies well and with respect.

“Father and I were unsure what to do and, in time, Frerin and Dis both realized something was wrong as we wandered to find a home after losing Erebor. In our heart, we hoped distance away from Erebor would help Grandfather shake off the gold sickness but it didn’t. We lost so many at Azanulbizar because he wouldn’t hear of settling anywhere else but Khazad-dûm.”

“With how everyone felt about elves after Thranduil’s desertion, I imagine you wouldn’t have thought to ask Lord Elrond for help,” Hawthorn observed. “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that, fy anwylyd. I wish there was a way to help ease the past hurts.”

“You help ease the pain now,” Thorin admitted. “I trust you to pull me aside and do whatever you need to do if I end up doing something that’s self-serving and not good for our people and those who rely on Erebor.”

“I’ll use my staff on your thick head if I have to,” the hobbit promised. “I won’t let you make the same mistakes your grandfather did; we both know what needs to be done to help those in need, and I know you want to ensure our people and those of Dale and Laketown need never to worry about not being able to feed their families again.”

“It won’t be easy,” he shared, helping her over uneven ground. “Dwarrow love their crafts because it shows our skill, and we want everything beautiful to be seen and admired. We work hard on our crafts, and many call us greedy because we see beauty in the raw ore and gems pulled out of the earth as well as the objects our hands create. I’m afraid we can get rather fixated on it.”

“We keep mathoms on shelves to be displayed after receiving them at birthday parties,” Hawthorn shared. “There’s at least one museum where we also store mathoms that might be too important to be passed around during birthday celebrations, but nobody really goes to look at them. I think if the dwarrow remember that selling their creations means more people get to see just how skillful the crafter is, and more opportunities to create things will open because the people who see the first item will want something for themselves.”

“Traditionally, the highest form of flattery for a craftsman is seeing the objects we create being used and loved,” the king-in-exile informed her. “Thror lost sight of that and wanted to love everything gold, not letting beautiful works to be sold in the markets.”

“So we help remind the dwarrow of what’s important, and let them create, sell, and create again,” she said to him. “I’ve heard of how wonderful the work of dwarrow are, but I never got to see how good they could be. Living in Tuckborough, I didn’t get to Hobbiton much for the main market and the market in Tuckborough never had any dwarven crafts to be seen.”

“I do believe we need to send the annual caravans to the Shire when we finally get Erebor restored and everyone focusing on their crafts,” Thorin commented. “I know hobbits have to go to Bree for anything that requires metal work, and I think it would be good for the journeymen to have a chance to show their works to people in hopes of selling them. It’ll give them the experience needed to advance in their craft.”

“I can contact my uncle later and ask,” the lass offered. “He might be willing to allow a caravan through and even allow a blacksmith to stay for a season or two a year. It’ll upset the blacksmiths in Bree, but the work of men, I am told, is not able to compare to the dwarven smiths.”

“You were told correctly,” he replied. “Elves are good at making weapons to a point, but we have our own ways of forging and imbuing with magic too.”

“I can’t wait for everyone to return to the mountain and be able to craft properly,” Hawthorn stated, leaning against him slightly as they walked. “I want to see what our people are capable of and be proud when compliments about our artisans come to us. I may be a hobbit, but I know that work like the daggers you made me and Frerin’s dagger are pieces of art in their own way.”

Her fingers touched where one sheath was hidden on her arm, and Thorin’s heart swelled with love and pride in knowing his One was proud to wear and use his work. She’d made sure all of them were sharpened properly when the company had returned them to her.

“I have a feeling our people are going to love you; you will give them the encouragement needed to do what they love,” he murmured. “I am proud to have such an amazing person as my One and truthfully, ukradel, I believe that you are Yavanna’s answer to the problems we have been having over the years in regards to how you see things.”

“I will do my best to not disappoint you or them,” Hawthorn said with a blush, then paused as the statues of the kings that flanked the gate were now easily seen. “Oh my.”

“They were much more impressive before Smaug came, but it looks as if they weathered the time after our departure better than I expected,” he replied. “I can only hope that he has not devastated the city much during his occupation.”

“Here’s hoping,” she answered. “Let’s see if we can’t find the door before tomorrow evening; we don’t want to miss Durin’s Day.”

“No, ukradel, we don’t,” the dwarf lord agreed, calling out to the company to find any sign of stairs or a way to where the hidden door might be.

Hawthorn sighed, leaning against her staff for a moment as she took in the raw beauty of the mountain that would be her new home soon. She was petrified about what was happening tomorrow evening and hoped she would not fail Thorin or the company because there simply was too much to lose. After hearing his story, the hobbit did not want to see her cariad mourning another loss.

The hobbit drew in a breath, clearing her mind, and set herself to helping the others try to find a way to the hidden door.

Author’s End Note – Translation time – fy brenin (my king), fy anwylyd (my beloved), and ukradel (greatest heart of all hearts). I do not speak Welsh so if I made a mistake, I apologize! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know what you thought. For those of you on Tumblr, I’m on there too under the name ladylaran. I’ll be posting update announcements, pictures that might coincide with stories that are posted, and other things depending on my mood. Anyway, see you all next time! ~ Laran
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Mending the Broken Pieces