DAVINA ⇝ Thorin Oakenshield

Chapter 7

"Our business is no concern of elves," Thorin said stubbornly when Gandalf suggested he hand the map over to Elrond. He had known that was Gandalf's intention all along, but even though Thorin needed to know what the map said, he was still hesitant to trust an elf.

"For goodness sake, Thorin, show him the map," Gandalf insisted, his jaw clenched in irritation.

"It is the legacy of my people; it is mine to protect, as are its secrets," the dwarf lord said, his eyes narrowed and a scowl etched across his face.

"Save me from the stubbornness of dwarfs!" Gandalf snapped. "Your pride will be your downfall. You stand here in the presence of one of the few in Middle-earth who can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond."

"Thorin," Davina tried, placing her hand between his shoulder blades as she spoke softly. He turned to her and met the gaze of her hazel eyes as she nodded to him. "You'll never know what the map says otherwise. Go ahead."

With a huff, Thorin nodded curtly and stepped forward. He brushed off Balin's hand as the elderly dwarf tried to stop him, just as hesitant as he had been to show Elrond the map. The elf accepted the map from him and studied it, a frown tugging at his lips when he read it. "Erebor," he drawled, looking up at Thorin with accusing eyes. "What is your interest in this map?"

Thorin opened his mouth to respond – most likely snap that it was none of his business – but then shut it, realizing Elrond probably wouldn't read it for him otherwise. "It's an ancient map of his old home, Elrond," Davina spoke up, saving Thorin from trying to find something to say. "The mountain may have been taken by Smaug, but that doesn't mean Thorin wouldn't be interested in the map he found."

Gandalf, seeing where Davina was going with this, nodded. "Yes, it's mainly academic," he spoke up as Thorin sent Davina a grateful glance. She didn't see it, too busy focusing at the conversation at hand. "As you know, this sort of artifact sometimes contains hidden text. You still read ancient dwarfish, do you not?"

Elrond glanced at Gandalf and Davina briefly, then turned and walked away, holding the map against the moonlight. "Cirth Ithil," he breathed in recognition.

"Moon runes," Gandalf translated, due to the fact that only he and Davina understood elvish. "Of course." He glanced over at Thorin and the others and said, somewhat sheepishly, "An easy thing to miss."

"In this case, that is true," Lord Elrond agreed. "Moon runes can only be read by the light of a moon of the same shape and season as the day on which they were written."

"Can you read them?" Thorin asked hopefully.

Although the elf lord was skeptical still about their interest in the map, he nodded curtly. They followed him through a corridor that led out onto the side of a cliff, where a large crystalline table stood at its edge. Waterfalls were surrounding the cliff on all sides, looking even more ethereal with the moon's rays beaming down on them. Davina felt her heart constrict as she looked around, a sense of déjà vu washing over her; back in the Nymali Valley, they used to have a place just like this. It was her favorite place to be... but now it was ruined.

"These runes were written on a Midsummer's Eve by the light of a crescent moon nearly two hundred years ago," Elrond told Thorin as he headed toward the crystalline table and laid the map down on it. "It would seem you were meant to come to Rivendell. Fate is with you, Thorin Oakenshield; the same moon shines upon us tonight." Davina stood back, next to Bilbo, feeling a bit out of place. Thorin had been right earlier – this was the legacy of his people, and both Bilbo and Davina felt as if they were imposing, although Thorin himself had told them to come along.