Hello once again to another installment of Daughter of Mordor: Sons of Durin. I don't have much to say, I don't have much to say except to tell you to go to my page and vote in the pairing poll.

So it begins.

T.A. 2940

The atmosphere of the Inn of the Prancing Pony was light and joyful as men talked and drank with each other. In the crowd were several hobbits walking and talking to the men.

Sitting at a table near the fireplace, was the dwarf Thorin Oakenshield, sitting across from him was a woman with a hood obstructing her face. The seemed to be speaking as they ate their food, until they saw the two men coming from their flanks towards their table. Seeing this they began reaching for their weapons which were leaned up against the side of the table. When suddenly, Gandalf pulled up a chair and sat next to them at the table.

"Mind if I join you?" He asked causing both of the figures to jump slightly. Arindil pursed her lips and looked to Thorin who nodded his agreement. Gandalf smiled and stopped a barmaid, and said, "I'll have what their having."

"I should introduce myself, My name is-" He said, and Thorin responded

"Gandalf, Arindil has told me much about you."

"All good thing I hope," Gandalf remarked, a smile in his voice and on his face, his face fell as both of the individuals looked on stoically.

Gandalf was silent for a second before smiling, "Well this is a fine chance, what brings Thorin Oakenshield and Arindil Calanare to Bree?"

Thorin looked down, while Arindil glared at Gandalf from under her hood, after a moment Thorin spoke.

"We heard a rumor that my father had been seen, roaming the wilds of Dunland. We went looking," He said and looked to Arindil who leaned forward and said, "There wasn't even a trace of him there."

"Thorin," Gandalf said, shaking his head slightly, a pitying look on his face, "It has been a long time since anything but rumors have been heard of Thrain."

"He still lives, I'm sure of it!" Thorin said, adamantly as the Barmaid came back with Gandalf's food. He shifted slightly, then asked, "The Ring your grandfather wore, one of the seven given to the dwarf lords many years ago, what became of it?"

Arindil stiffened, and took a sharp intake of breath, and Thorin's gaze darkened, "He gave it to my father when they went into battle."

"So Thrain was wearing it when he…. When he went missing?" He asked, to Thorin's nod

Thorin looked Gandalf in the eyes, then asked, "Before he went missing my father came to speak to you. What did you say to him?"

"I urged him to march upon Erebor, to rally the seven armies of the dwarves, to destroy the dragon and take back the lonely mountain, and now I give the same advice to you, take back your homeland."

Thorin sent a knowing look towards Arindil, who was still visibly tense, and they both push their food aside and grab their ale.

"You once told me," Arindil said, leaning back in her chair, "That very little is left to chance when meeting wizards."

"Your right, it isn't chance, the lonely mountain troubles me. The dragon has sat their long enough, sooner than later darker minds will turn towards Erebor." Gandalf said, and pulled out a strip of cloth from his bag, "I ran into some, unsavory characters whilst traveling the greenway. They mistook me for a Vagabond."

Arindil snorted, and Thorin chuckled, and sarcastically muttered, "I imagine they regretted that."

Gandalf unfurled the cloth and pushed it towards them, "One of them was carrying this."

Thorin reached out to it, but stopped when Arindil hissed, "It's Black Speech."

He turned to her for an explanation, and saw her face begin to pale, "It's a promise of payment."

"For what," Thorin asked, and it was Gandalf who responded, "Your head Thorin, and for Arindil to be brought to them… Alive."

"So, someone wants us dead and imprisoned," Arindil said, "If it wasn't written in black speech and requiring me to be alive, I'd think it to be the elves who put this bounty out."

Gandalf gave her a severe, and shocked look, but was troubled to see that her facial expressions were covered by her hood. The only think he could see was her lips drawn in a thin line. He inwardly cursed that he had taught her to mask her emotions. He then turned to Thorin, and told him, "You cannot wait any longer. You are the heir to the throne of Durin. Unite the armies of the dwarves, together you have the might and power to retake Erebor. Summon a meeting of the seven dwarf families. Demand they stand by their oath."

Arindil snorted and leaned back in her chair taking a long drink from her mug, as Thorin leaned in to whisper to Gandalf.

"The seven armies swore an oath to the one who holds the king's jewel, and in case you have forgotten it was stolen by Smaug."

The stopped their conversation as the two men from before walked out behind them. The three watched them leave with Arindil's hand never leaving her blade. Gandalf turned around, and spoke to them again, "What if I were to help you reclaim it?"

Both Thorin and Arindil looked at him with curiosity, and Thorin asked, "How? The arkenstone lies half a world away."

Arindil then picked up from their, "Under the feet of a large, magic resistant, Fire-Breathing dragon."

"Yes it does," Gandalf said with a smirk, "Which is why we are going to need a burglar."

"Can you procure one for us," Thorin asked, and Gandalf nodded.

"We'll try and get the dwarf families to back us, as unlikely as that will be, but we can possibly get some aid from them." Arindil mused, and Thorin nodded half-heartedly.

Thorin and Arindil stood to leave, when Gandalf asked, "If I could speak to you Arindil, in private."

Arindil stopped, and looked over to him, "Find us a burglar… then we can talk."

Several Months Later

T.A. 2941

Arindil stood outside the meeting hall, standing out among the gathered dwarf guards who were looking at her with a strange curiosity. She stood near the door to the meeting hall, her pipe in hand and lit as she stared off into space, lost in thought. One, finally got the nerve to ask the question that was burning the others up.

"How is it that an elf is one of the Personal companions of Thorin Oakenshield, who's hatred of elves is legendary?" He asked in the common tongue. Breaking Arindil from her thoughts.

"I seem to be an exception, and I seem to be the only elf to aid in their struggles of your people. It also goes a long way that the vast majority of elven kind hates me even more than most hate dwarves."

There was some muttering amongst the dwarves at her statement, one particularly brave dwarf asked, "Why would that be?"

"They… Disagree with my heritage, I have met…." Arindil paused for a moment and counted out on her fingers, "Four elves who didn't have an issue with my heritage, and of those one is across the sea, two I actively dislike, and the last I haven't seen in… oh almost a millennia."

It looked like they were about to ask more questions, when the door to the meeting hall slammed open and a fuming Thorin marched into the hall. Arindil quickly fell in step behind him as the other dwarves began dispersing into their various clan groups.

"I'd ask how it went, but I don't need to by the scowl on your face." Arindil remarked, a small frown appearing on her usually emotionless features.

"They will not come, they said that this is our quest and ours alone." He growled out, and Arindil grimaced.

"Well, we'll just have to hope that Gandalf found us a burglar." Arindil sighed as the exited the great Hall and out into a crowded dwarven settlement. A large and rather unique moth flew towards her and she caught it and put it up to her ear.

"What is it," Thorin inquired and she was silent for a moment before whispering back to the moth and setting it free.

"Gandalf, he said he's found us a burglar, a place called Bag End, Bagshot row in the Shire." She responded and brought her pipe back to her mouth and puffed on it a few times.

"The land of the Hobbits," Thorin spoke, a sneer in his voice, and the two began moving through the streets. When they finally exited the town, Arindil broke the silence.

"It could be worse," She remarked, and Thorin gave her an inquisitive glance.

"He could have chosen an elf." She spoke with humor in her voice and Thorin gave a chuckle and shook his head in amusement.

Whew that took longer than anticipated, this story is unfortunately going to have slower updates than my others, but rest assured it is not dead. I hope you enjoyed and once again please check out the poll for this story.

Tenn' enomentielva