Esja did not often venture to the court of the King of the Iron Hills. Her mother and elder brother resided there, and that alone was usually enough to keep her away. But her dreams of the last months had finally driven her here to the headwaters of the river Carnen, the kingdom of Dain Ironfoot. Esja checked the clips securing her woven mithril veil, making sure it still covered her face below her eyes. Then taking a deep breath, she walked through the giant carved doors that guarded the heart of the Iron Hills. The great halls were bustling with dwarven trade. She made her way through the winding corridors, admiring the beautiful stone, lively trade, and finely crafted tools and treasures. She stopped at a storefront proclaiming love potions for sale.
"Oh, for Durin's sake, Hagny!" she muttered and walked in.
A clanging bell above the door announced her arrival, and Hagny's squat form appeared from behind a tall counter.
Hagny was short, even for a dwarf. It always seemed to Esja he was wider than he was tall. He had a full head of black hair and a long black beard that brushed the tips of his heavy boots. Esja pushed back her silver hood and shook her head, making her mask chime.
"Esja! Esja, my dear," Hagny said and hugged her, his face barely reaching her neck. "How long has it been? Well, it's been a hundred years if it's been a day!" he said.
"Hagny, love potions?" she asked, a twinkle in her eye.
"Heh, well, they're selling very well."
"Are they, indeed?"
Hagny had the grace to flush a bit at her tone, "Esja, don't lecture me! Without you here to help with tonics, I've had to scrabble a bit. And that mother of yours has been no help! She's so busy with court politics she hardly has time to heal anymore."
Esja's spine straightened at the mention of her mother.
"Did you hear Esra married Dain's granddaughter?" Hagny asked.
"I had not heard, nor do I care what either of them does," Esja said. "I am here for other reasons."
"What other reasons?"
"I've been, well, I've had, or I've heard... I mean, I wondered if you knew-," Esja struggled to link the words.
"You wonder if I've heard of a company of dwarves traveling from the Blue Mountains, rumored to be coming to reclaim Erebor?" Hagny finished with a grim look.
Esja stared at him for a moment, then looked away. Her mithril veil jingling softly in the silence. She turned back to Hagny, eyes filling. "So, it is true. What could he possibly be thinking! Why! Hagny, why is he doing this? Surely he has a life worth living in the Blue Hills. Certainly, he's found prosperity and made a family, why go there, why now!"
"I'm sure he's been told of the portends. He wonders, as do we all if Erebor lies unprotected."
Esja scoffed, "Unprotected! Because birds are flying around the mountain, now suddenly the dragon's dead. It's beyond ridiculous.
"The ancients say..."
"I don't care what the ancients say! I know that dragon lives!" Esja hissed. "And if I know it, then he knows it. And yet, here he comes to reclaim his kingdom."
Hagny and Esja stood in silence for a moment, then Esja asked, "What more have you heard, Hagny?"
"I've heard that they had a meeting, all the leaders, that he was told this quest was his alone. I've heard they travel in secret in the company of a wizard, Gandalf the Grey."
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Iron and Oak
FantasyHe was coming back. It had been more than one hundred years since the holocaust at Erebor, more than one hundred years since she had spoken his name aloud. "Thorin," she whispered to the wind. She looked westward, able to just make out the stark p...