Springtime at the Lonely Mountain

Stranded

Everything made sense now.

No, nothing made sense.

Ása had even more questions than before, but at the same time she somehow felt more grounded. A new kind of calm filled the place in her heart when there had only been dread and turmoil just a few hours before. Thorin, her One, was still by her side, steady as the bedrock of Erebor, offering comfort and reassurance. She squeezed his hand for reassurance as they followed one of the narrow, secret corridors in the bowels of the Mountain.

"Do not fret, my sweet, we will overcome this together," he responded to her touch, his voice reverberated against the unpolished rock walls. "And I am going to do everything there is in my power to ensure that your dream remains only an unpleasant memory. Erebor is not going to fall prey to any dragon. The Kingdom Under The Mountain will prevail. We will survive," with these words, he turned towards her and embraced her carefully, as if she was a fragile porcelain doll. When they parted, she could clearly see concern in his azure gaze.

"But... the egg? I don't understand what happened there," Ása's eyes traveled back towards the secret chamber they left a few moments ago. "What's more, I don't understand how or where your grandfather found it. Until recently, I thought there were no more dragons in these lands, so how would a dragon egg appear in Erebor? And that dragon in Dale... Thorin, I need to tell you something."
"What is it, my sweet?"

"Do you remember when I told you that the dragon might have been searching for something?"
"Of course," he nodded. "Something like this egg."

"Exactly! In my dreams, I feel, I mean, the dragon... it's a female."
"A female dragon," he repeated and took a deep breath. "You are sure of this?"

She replied with a solemn nod.

"Splendid. Are you saying that very soon we may be once again facing a dragon? An angry mother searching for its lost child? A child whom we are keeping against her will in hiding, here, in Erebor?"
"It seems to be the logical explanation, is it not?" she admitted.
"I am afraid so. Additionally, something tells me that a desperate dragon mother is a tiny bit more dangerous than a wild sow that has lost one of her offspring," he ran a hand over his face and sighed. "Erebor's defences may not be prepared for such an onslaught. But first of all, we need to figure out the egg conundrum and uncover the truth. For now, this treasure has to be concealed. No one can know about the chest. If its contents fall into the wrong hands..." his voice trailed off into the darkness.

"Will it be safe here? Does anyone..." she hesitated. "Does your grandfather know this place?"

"He knows of these corridors," he admitted, "but there are many tunnels and chambers here. It would take him, or anyone else for that matter, forever to find this chamber."

They walked ahead without a word, holding hands and hearing only their own breaths and footsteps.

"Thorin," she whispered after a lengthy consideration in an attempt to convince him. "I am sure that we can find at least some of the answers to our questions in the Woodland Realm."
"We?" he shot her a scrutinizing glance. "I am going there myself, with a group of trusted warriors. This will not be a courtesy visit, I need to negotiate the alliance before the dragon mother returns. There will not be time for anything else."

"I understand it perfectly. Nevertheless, I need to go there with you."
"Ása..." there was a warning in his voice as his brow furrowed.

"Please, Mizim, the Elven King possesses the knowledge of thousands of years. Do you remember all the songs that minstrels in Dale sing? The ones about the Elves battling the dragons of the North? I read through some of the old writings from the Erebor's library, and according to them King Thranduil took part in those events. The knowledge he has comes from his first-hand experience. No living Dwarf can boast such understanding of this subject. I have to talk to him."