Chapter 13

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A/n: I do not own credits to the song Ira sings, credit goes to the Oh-Helios
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Some of us huddled together as Bard had left to retrieve the weapons he promised Thorin.

"Tomorrow begins the last day of autumn," Thorin said, his tone hushed to not gather attention.

"Durin's day falls the morning before next," Balin replied. "We have to reach the Mountian before then."

Kili shared the tone of urgency. "What if we don't find the door in time? Has this quest been for nothing?"

I shook my head. "Well there is another way in, but we run into declaring an open act of war with the dragon."

"What do you mean?" Kili replied.

"Alastor is double the size of what he was in the Shire but it comes down to their nature," I explained to them best I could. "Wild dragons or lost male dragons are solitary and rules over their territory. Any females in that territory is considered his. Back home, we managed to have them coexist back home where they had their own hierarchy preventing in-fighting, an Alpha male and female ruled. Since Smaug turned on his own kind, nature took back over. Alastor is younger, to an older dragon, coming into one's territory is an act of war."

Thorin rubbed his beard, his eyes harbor deep thought. "What do you think we should do?"

That caught me a little off guard. He never once asked me for any sort of direct input.

I crossed my arms, hiding my slight shock. "I would much rather prefer to get him off guard. Alastor is much more suited for stealth unlike Smaug. Firedrakes rely on their strength and size. It's why a small meeker person can still become a Tamer. We are them, just on two legs instead of four."

Bilbo spoke next. "So Tamers is just like their dragons? Themselves but as people?"

"Yes, in a sense," I replied. "It's also why us Tamers live longer then most humans. Our life spans rival that of Elves. It can be well over a century before a dragon's Tamer is born. Alastor was well over a century old by the time I was born, but he was still considered a juvenile when he chose me as his Tamer."

"So how do you bond with them?" Bilbo asked.

Balin spoke, knowing much of my people. "It's an old magic, Mr. Baggins. A magic older then Dwarves and Elves. A mother and her out of wedlock child was cast from their village. A female firedrake named found them, the baby was sick and dying. The dragon told the baby's mother to give the baby some of her blood. Not much is known how it happened or why it happened but it made it so the baby could bond and ride the dragon that saved him."

"The story of Raolf and Syrax," I said softly. "The original Tamer that every one of my people could trace their legacy too. He bore four children. One for each line of dragons. My grandfather once said that we was a direct descendent of Runa, his only daughter but the ancient scrolls that documented all of our family lines with their dragons disappeared as quickly as they was written."

"Why hadn't you said anything about it?" Kili asked.

"None of you asked," I said. "

Thorin finally has a plan. "First we need to find the hidden door then if we can't find it, Alastor is our last resort."

Bard comes back immediately hushing our conversation. An oil rubbed animal skin was in his arms. He sets it on the table showing the weapons he could find.

The Dwarves grumbled as they inspected the weapons. They was subpar the what was expected. They was mediocre, weapons fashioned from poverty.

"We paid for iron forged swords and axes," Gloin yelled.

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