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Hunting Erebor	By : LadyLaran Category: Supernatural > Crossovers Views: 1898 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own "Supernatural" or "The Hobbit." I do not make any money from this story.

Chapter List
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Author’s Note – I am hopeful you all will enjoy this chapter; it’s another heart to heart and one that was needed to help things move forward. Thank you all for your kind support; I greatly appreciate all of you!

Disclaimer – I do not own “the Hobbit” or “Supernatural,” and I don’t make money from this story.

Chapter Twelve – Maps and Chats

The two found the company relaxing on a balcony that was outside of the rooms they had been given. Bilbo tilted his head, realizing the group was planning on camping on the balcony instead of taking advantage of the nice rooms they’d been given.

“You must be joking,” he said, staring at them as he came to a stop. “You’ve been offered rooms where you can sleep on beds and plan on sleeping on the hard floor? Have you taken complete leave of your senses?”

“We can’t keep watch if we’re separated,” Bofur answered while lighting his pipe.

“Are you implying you might be attacked during our time here?”

“They’re elves,” the dwarf answered, puffing contentedly. “Better to be safe than sorry, right?”

“First off,” Bilbo said, drawing himself up. “My mother trusted Lord Elrond a great deal, and I trust her word. If she said that our host is an honorable person, then you can count on her word to be more solid than a diamond. Secondly, the journey ahead of us is long and difficult. There’s no telling how long of a reprieve we will have and resting on nice beds guarantees that we will be better rested when we make our departure. You’re putting yourselves at risk by not taking advantage of it.”

“Bilbo is right,” Thorin said to them. “Better to take advantage of gaining a decent rest before we leave this place. We’ll set a watch and leave doors open so that a warning can be heard, but we will make use of the beds offered to us.”

As the company went to claim rooms, Fili called out from where he was sitting.

“Uncle, we saved you and Bilbo some food,” he told him, gesturing to the plates on the bench beside him. “We figured you’d be hungry since you both left before the meal was served.”

Both went towards the blond dwarf and his brother, accepting the plates before taking their seats to eat what had been set back for them. Bilbo thanked the two, then set about filling his empty stomach. He’d been too tense and upset earlier to even think about food and now that he was more relaxed, he was finding he was hungry.

“I won’t ask for details, but are you all right?”

The hobbit looked up, finding Fili’s blue eyes watching him with a look of concern on his face.

“I am, thank you,” he told the young dwarf. “Your uncle was able to help me with a few things, and my mind is more at peace now.”

“Good,” the blond answered, going back to his carving.

Thorin and Bilbo had just finished eating when Gandalf found them. The wizard nodded, glad to see they had eaten, and spoke to the pair.

“Elrond is ready to examine the map if you both are ready to accompany me?”

Bilbo looked at Thorin questioningly, who nodded after handing Fili the empty plate to dispose of.

“Your insight might prove useful, Bilbo,” he said softly. “And it will also keep our story straight in front of him.”

The hobbit rose to his feet, handing Fili his plate with a soft word of thanks before following the wizard. He hoped the map could be read since it was such an important part of the quest.

The trio made their way to a beautifully decorated office, finding the elf lord waiting on them. Elrond greeted them, rising to his feet.

“You said Master Baggins discovered a map that belongs to your people?”

“I did,” Bilbo answered, keeping the story straight in his head. “I realized that it belonged to the dwarves who had once lived in Erebor. It took a bit of research to find where they were, and Gandalf brought Thorin to me so he could lay claim to it. I know of their history, and it’s only right they have something of their home.”

“Because we have very few relics of our home, I want to preserve the map but I am familiar with my ancestors’ ways. There may be text hidden on it that can be documented for the future generations,” Thorin said.

“I’d be delighted to lend my assistance,” the elf lord replied. “May I see it?”

Thorin handed him the parchment, watching as Elrond carefully opened and examined it. It was obvious he was treating it with respect due its age and background.

“This is remarkably well preserved considering its age and that it has been traveling for so long,” the Lord of Imladris mused.

“That was one of the things that drew me to it,” Bilbo said. “I collect maps along with books, and this was obviously old and well preserved. Had I not realized there were proper owners for it, that map would have been the most unique of my collection.”

“I can see why,” Elrond answered. “You were right, Thorin, there is hidden text. Moon runes have been inscribed on this map.”

“Can you read them,” the dwarf lord asked.

“Unfortunately, these are not the common form of moon runes that can be read in any form of moonlight. This particular map requires the exact season and phase of the moon in which they were written in order to be read. I believe that night is close at hand but not tonight as I can detect a shimmer. If you are willing to accept my hospitality a bit longer, I will be willing to try every night until the runes reveal themselves.”

Thorin bowed his head, grateful for the aid and offer. This would allow them a chance to rest which, as Bilbo had pointed out, was badly needed. He would work to remain patient as they waited for the right moon to appear. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take long before the runes could be read.

“You have my thanks,” he told their host.

“I am pleased I can help,” Elrond answered truthfully, carefully handing the map back to the king-in-exile. “I am also glad you were able to recover one of your lost heirlooms, Thorin.”

“I am grateful that Bilbo was able to determine what it was he had when it came into his possession and tracked me down,” he answered. “Otherwise, I might never have known of its existence. My father went missing after Azanulbizar, and he must have lost the map sometime afterward. I’m just unsure as to why he had it with him when he was on the battlefield.”

“It may have been a symbol of luck,” Gandalf mused. “Something he could take strength in. I suppose we will never know. I was able to find Thrain some time ago but had no idea who he was at the time. I took him to Radagast, and he took care of him until his passing.”

It took everything he had not to react to that, and Bilbo moved a bit closer. Thorin had discussed his father’s fate with Gandalf while on the road and had accepted what he’d been told, but it still hurt.

“I should write my sister to let her know of our father’s fate,” he said softly.

“I will ensure a messenger gets it to her,” Elrond said. “You have my condolences.”

“Thank you,” he answered. “If you’ll excuse me?”

At the elf lord’s nod, Thorin left the room and realized Bilbo was beside him. The hobbit guided him into an area where a beautiful fountain was. They both sat, and the hobbit said nothing and simply stayed with him as he struggled to reclaim his emotions.

The sounds of the night along with the water moving helped calm him and after a short while, the king-in-exile broke his own silence.

“One of the titles I have is Lord of the Silver Fountains,” he said. “It’s strange you thought to bring me here to help me calm down.”

“I like gardens but somehow, I figured this might be better for you,” he answered the other. “Are there really fountains made of silver in Erebor?”

“There are,” Thorin shared. “Tall, elegant, and they had many tiers so the water was moving for a long while before reaching the pool. I used to go to study or calm my mind whenever the worries became too much.”

“One of my favorite places to read and think is in the East Farthing woods,” Bilbo told him. “I would sit beside a brook that runs through the woods there and read or just think. I was just there a few days before all of you came to my smial.”

“Heavy thoughts,” he asked.

“Relatives trying to push me to settle down,” the hobbit grumbled. “I refuse to do so, but they continue to persist in it.”

“Haven’t found the right lass,” Thorin questioned, glad for this change in topic as it kept his thoughts away from his grief.

“No lass at all,” Bilbo said. “Even though it’s shown up occasionally in the Shire, it’s not considered the respectable thing to prefer your own gender for companionship. We’re allowed to become ‘confirmed bachelors or spinsters,’ but there’s no formal relationship for those who prefer their own gender. Most families will continue to ask in hopes the person will change their mind, much like my own has been.”

“Like men then,” the dwarf stated. “Dwarrow love where their hearts lie, and all are happy for those who find it, regardless of gender.”

“That must be wonderful,” the smaller male sighed. “I wish the Shire did it that way; I’d be much happier and less stressed.”

“It is easier,” Thorin answered. “We simply don’t see why the outside matters so much to the other races. Love is about the heart, mind, and soul. If the physical follows or not, it does not matter so long as the pair are happy with each other.”

“It seems the world has a great deal to learn from dwarrow,” Bilbo told him, following the plural Thorin had used. “People seem to write your race off as being nasty, greedy folk who care nothing for the pleasures of life outside of treasure. I never understood it and refused to accept it. I hate being closed minded, and nothing irks me more than closed minded people.”

“It is true we love treasure, but it isn’t because of the worth of it. We find beauty in the crafts our hands create and take pride in the joy it gives those who receive the works of our hands. A toy that is bought from a toy-maker is viewed as more valuable than a bejeweled ring simply because of the joy it brings to the pebble who it has been given to.”

“I wish the rest of the world could hear you and understand,” the hobbit told his companion. “If they could hear how you describe this and the passion in your voice, I think they would let go of the ridiculous notions that dwarrow are mean and greedy.”

“There have been few instances of greed,” Thorin acknowledged. “When the dwarrow of Nogrod were asked to refashion the Nauglamír and add the Silmaril to it, they became enthralled by the cursed stone of Fëanor. In their minds, the piece was so perfect that the only payment that would amount to the work was the Nauglamír itself. Thingol sent them from Doriath in anger because he knew it was the Silmaril they wanted. By the end of things, countless lives were lost over something that should never have been allowed to leave Valinor.

“At the time, the Firebeards and Broadbeams carried the weight of scorn from other races. The Longbeards had been fortunate due to their association with the elves of Ost-in-Edhil, namely Celebrimbor. It wasn’t until later that we began carrying more of the scorn because the dwarrow of Nogrod and Belegost too refuge with us in Khazad-dûm. The ones who had come asking for sanctuary had wanted no part of that horrible stone and so my ancestors allowed them sanctuary.”

Thorin stared into the water for a moment before resuming his story. Some of this Bilbo had read before, but it was fascinating hearing it from another perspective.

“Our fate was sealed when my grandfather refused to give Thranduil the jewelry and stones he had commissioned from our jewelers. I don’t know what made it him do it other than the sickness of the mind he suffered from. Maybe he felt that he couldn’t part with the stones and jewelry, I don’t know. All I know is that it sealed our fate in regards to not being held in the same light as those who did the same thing centuries ago.”

“Which is why you’ve had such a difficult time finding aid and work,” the hobbit asked softly, heart aching as the dwarf lord nodded.

“It has been incredibly difficult trying to find someone who will give a just pay for a hard day’s work,” Thorin shared. “They accuse us of being greedy and try to underpay us for the skills we have learned and the strength of our backs and arms. When we try to get the proper pay, we are thrown out and told never to return. After a while, we just learned to bite our tongues and vent our anger and shame onto the metal we work.”

Bilbo swallowed back the anger, forcing himself to calm down.

“Thorin, when you write your sister, have her send craftsmen to the Shire. Your people will earn what’s needed to fund the trip from Ered Luin to Erebor. She needs to speak to my uncle, the thain, about trading for food. We can ensure your people have enough to eat through the winter, food for the journey, and seeds and saplings for restarting the farms,” he said to him. “I will write a letter of introduction for her, but I’ll not stand for your people being treated like this when I know the people of the Shire will pay a proper wage for an honest day’s work.”

“Bilbo...I...thank you,” Thorin said, eyes wide and full of emotion.

“Don’t thank me for doing what is right and decent,” the hobbit said, rising to his feet. “We’re going to get Erebor back so your people can walk with their heads raised high, full bellies, and be able to take joy in delighting others with their crafts. By Yavanna, I swear to you, Thorin Oakenshield, I will not rest until your home is yours once more and you are seated on the throne that is yours by right.”

The dwarf lord was taken aback by the firm determination in the usually soft tones of the company’s burglar.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a letter to write and so do you.”

Bilbo headed back to where the company was, followed by a stunned Thorin. The Master of Bag End was going to get this task done, and he would carry through on his oath because he would not allow someone to suffer if he could help it.

Once he got the writing materials from Ori, the hobbit retreated to his room to write and everyone stared at the dumbfounded king.

“What happened,” Balin asked, guiding his cousin to a seat.

Quietly, Thorin told him about the conversation and the adviser smiled, tears in his eyes as he answered his king.

“It seems Gandalf was right; the hobbit has more to him than we knew. Mahal is showing us His favor through the son of His wife. We just have to show equal determination and do what we must to get our home back.”

“We will, Balin,” Thorin promised. “We will.”

Author’s End Note – I’m actually satisfied with this particular chapter and hope that all of you will be too. Thank you all for your patience; I hope you enjoyed this new chapter. Please let me know what you thought of it. See you next chapter! ~ Laran
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Hunting Erebor