Chapter 2: Tea for 13?
Our part in this story began on a warm morning in spring. I was in the kitchen and attended to the mess that Bilbo had left me after his breakfast. While I hardly slept at night at all, Bilbo liked to stay in bed till the sun was long up. At the moment he sat outside and enjoyed his first pipe this morning. I was almost finished with the washing-up when I suddenly heard the door shut and a key turned in its lock. I went out of the kitchen, through the little living room and ended up at the front door, where I found Bilbo standing with his back to the door and clearly listening for a specific sound. As I dried my hands on a dish-cloth, a sudden movement caught my eye. Through the window I could see a slender figure moving away from Bag End and walking towards the big festival tree. When he was out of sight I turned my attention back to Bilbo and asked: "Who was that?" Bilbo looked at me, hurried to the other window to make sure he was really gone and finally answered: "Gandalf... You know, the wizard who made these marvelous fireworks on Midsummer's Eve." I nodded. I remembered how he had used the brightest colours to draw all sort of forms and figures into the night sky. Sad to say, I knew more of his fireworks than of him. But the last feast at Midsummer's Eve was many years ago, when I was a small child after all and since then he hadn't visited the Shire. Slowly I returned to the present and looked at Bilbo again,who was staring through the window, still looking for someone. "Did he want something in particular?" Bilbo nodded. "Oh yes! Something unbelievable! I will tell you on our way down..." With that he loosened himself from the window and walked right past me to help himself to a second breakfast. I sighed, left the dish-cloth on a small table nearby and unlocked the door again. I stepped outside and took a deep breath of the mild air. The sun just crept over TheHill and shone warmly onto my back while the grass still felt cool to my bare feet. I folded my hands behind my head and enjoyed the view that lay before me: Green hills with little, round doors here and there, a small river searching its way through the landscape, all in all - a view to marvel at. Everything was perfect - as always! I turned when Bilbo called me. I went back inside and made myself ready for the market. I went into my bedroom where I changed into a light green dress. Then I fetched the basket from behind the door and waited for Bilbo to join me. He put on his blue jacket over his shirt and white waistcoat and went outside. We strolled down The Hill towards the market, while Bilbo told me what Gandalf had asked him about earlier: "He seriously asked me if I wanted to join in an adventure...Me! As if Middle-Earth wasn't big enough to find someone suitable for that matter. One thing was curious though... He mentioned Mother and seemed interested in you." I frowned and wanted to reply something as we were involved in a conversation, for we had finally reached the market place.The topic didn't come up again in the next hours and so the day passed by quite normally and to go further into detail wouldn't be of much interest to you. Came evening however, that changed.
It was short before sunset and Bilbo was preparing our dinner for tonight: 2 trouts we had bought on the market today, with carrots and chips. I was in my bedroom and changed into something more comfortable. I slipped out of the dress, folded it and put it back into my wardrobe. Whilst putting on a pair of plain cotton trousers I walked over to the small mirror next to my bed. As I undid my braid I realized the slight sun burns on my face. Sun enough for today it seemed. Once more I wondered who on earth I could thank for the dark red of my hair, which had earned me some queer looks more than once over the past years. I examined them and realized that they had grown well under my shoulder already. I tucked a strand behind my ear and had to frown at my own reflection: While I looked like an ordinary young woman, no one knew that Bilbo and I were of same age. I gave a sigh when I had to think about my past again, but was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. "That's curious!", I thought, for I couldn't remember any visitors for tonight. I wrinkled my brows, snatched my shirt and left my room. I went towards the front door, my bare feet tapping on the stone floor and halfway in my shirt, but Bilbo was faster than me and had opened the door already. Outside stood a mighty dwarf, bald headed and with a grim look on his face. His clothes as well as his appearance suggested that he had seen battle more than once. He first looked at Bilbo, then at me, finally bowed and said in a deep-throated, growling voice: "Dwalin! At your service!" I stood there and couldn't say a word, but luckily Bilbo remembered the appropriate answer fast enough. "Bilbo Baggins, at yours." Accepting his word of greeting, Dwalin stepped through the door, walked right past Bilbo and stopped in front of me. As he unfastened his cloak he gave me a stern look and asked: "And you are?" I looked down on him, bowed a bit myself and replied: "Ithiniel, it is a pleasure." He nodded, tossed his hood towards me and stomped off to the next room. I caught the dark green fabric and hung it up on the big wardrobe. Bilbo had hurried after our guest, who apparently had smelled the fish. And as the kind host that Bilbo was, he had to offer them to him, both of them. While he ate I silently asked Bilbo if he knew our guest, who negated. Dwalin wasn't a very talkative fellow, although Bilbo tried his best to start off a conversation. Just before he had finished the second trout, another sound caught our attention.
This time it was the doorbell.
I got up, excused myself and walked to the door to open it. When I did, another dwarf was waiting outside. He was obviously older than the first one, his long white beard was tucked into his belt and his white hair stood shortly off his head. When he saw me, his face lightened up a bit, he smiled and gave a bow and introduced himself as "Balin", who was "at your service" as well. The second (and not the last) time this evening I was mightily surprised. After a few seconds of awkward silence I finally managed a "Good Evening". He entered as he replied: "Oh yes, it is indeed... and a wonderful place you have got here, I have to say!", he added as he unfastened his cloak, which had a dark red colour. "I am not late, am I?", he asked after handing me his cloak. Before I could ask what he was late for, he had walked past me already and laughed happily at the sight of Dwalin, who gave a cheer himself. The two dwarves embraced each other cheerfully, as if they hadn't seen each other in years. After a good minute of greeting, Dwalin led Balin into the kitchen, where he offered him food and drink. Bilbo stood midst in his kitchen and looked as lost as he could in his own home, while our two visitors plundered through the pantry. I joined Bilbo after I had hung up Balin's hood as well and said to him: "This is going to be a weird evening!". Bilbo looked at me quite distressed as he asked: "You didn't invite them, did you?" I shook my head and had to smile. He took a deep breath and stomped off towards the sound of the two dwarves, chatting happily: "I really do like guests, but this is too much!", I heard him mutter as he left the room. Before I could follow him and say something to comfort his anger, the bell rang again. I turned with a sigh and made for the door. I had a feeling who would be behind it and shouldn't be disappointed. This time two dwarves showed up at once, much younger than the first ones. One of them had long, blond hair decorated with braids, as was his beard, which only reached down short after his chin. The other one had an even shorter beard, which made him look even younger still. In return his hair grew longer and in a dark brown colour. The both looked at me quite surprised before they introduced themselves. The blond one started with "Fili", then the other added "Kili", and with a combined "at your service" they both bowed deeply. When they came back up again they had a jolly smile on their faces and Kili asked: "I trust this is Mister Boggins' house?" "It's Mister Baggins, but yes!" "Splendid", he cried out and entered without another word, followed by Fili. I closed the door behind them and began to wonder if there would be any kind of explanation during this evening. In the meantime Fili and Kili had dropped their blue hoods near the first two. As Kili took a look around, Fili began to undress and produced countless knifes and daggers, handing me most of them with the unnecessary comment to "be careful". I laid them down on a table nearby, ever so gentle. When I turned again to ask him why they were here I found myself alone in the hallway. I followed Kili's laughter to our dining room, where the two youngsters had joined the other two dwarves. Bilbo was there too - looking even more confused than he had before. "Help me get this into the hall, otherwise we will never get everyone in!", Balin shouted towards Kili, while he got his hands on a piece of furniture, ready to carry it away. At these words Bilbo's eyes widened in shock and he mumbled: "Everyone?" He turned to me. "What does he mean with 'everyone'?" I could only shake my head. Instead of an answer he got another loud knock on the door. His impression turned from surprise to hopelessness and finally changed into anger. "Enough is enough!", he shouted. "We are not at home! There are enough uninvited guests in my hall already! Go away and bugger somebody else!" With this he stormed off to the door. I gazed after him, then to the four dwarves rearranging our dining room into a festival-apt banqueting hall. After a short time I decided it was best to follow Bilbo; I would rather take my chances with any new visitor than quarrelling with a stern looking warrior dwarf and his friends. So I hurried after him, ducking under the door frames, into the hallway, where I met an amusing sight: Bilbo stood there, his forehead in wrinkles and staring at a pack of winding bodies before him on the floor. All in all there were 8 dwarves lying on the hallway floor, trying to get up. I could not help myself but giggle, but Bilbo sighed and looked at someone still outside. While I walked towards the dwarves to help them up, I saw who was outside, waiting to get inside: Gandalf. Clad in a grey robe with a big, pointy hat, his long grey beard tucked into his belt, he smiled at me and his eyes blinked from under bushy eyebrows.
To shorten things up a bit I will not quote everything that was said or done, for this evening alone would fill dozens of pages. To simplify things as well I will name all our visitors at once and also their relationship to one another, so you can see clearer than we did that evening:
Later I found out that Balin and Dwalin are brothers and indeed had not met each other in the last 50 years. Kili and Fili are brothers as well, descendants of Durin's folk, a royal line. Three of the dwarves who now joined us were named Bifur, Bofur and Bombur. These three are also brothers (as you could have guessed maybe, from their names). Bifur is not really the chatty type, but you would have your problems understanding him anyway, for he only speaks in Kúzdur, the old tongue of the dwarves. A long time ago an axe had hit him on the head and got stuck! He survived his injuries (to everyone's surprise) but they weren't able to remove all of the axe so a little piece is still stuck in his skull and since those days he hasn't spoken a word in the common tongue. His younger brother Bofur though, well.. you could have stayed up all night and would not get tired of his stories. He had a jolly smile and laughed happily when he greeted Bilbo and me. Bombur had to be helped up by three of us because, well, his love for food had extended his body to a certain amount. He has hair like fire, unlike the light brown that his brothers have and an all braided beard that reaches down to his belly. The next group of brothers are Dori, Nori and Ori. Ori is the youngest of the whole lot, what you can tell easily from his looks and shy behaviour. Nori is the second oldest of these three and is known for, how do you say, having sticky fingers. Nonetheless his younger brother still looks up to him and when Nori decided to set out on a journey, Ori followed. Now the oldest of them, Dori, was worried what would happen to Ori if left alone in the wild (not to talk about the bad influence that Nori would have on him) and joined his two brothers. Dori's grey hair is arranged and decorated in many braids, while his younger brothers have a brown colour to it. The last two dwarves who joined us were Oin and Gloin, who are brothers as well. Oin's hair shine with grey alike Dori's, though there are a lot of black wisps left. Under a peaked nose he has a cunning smile and as his permanent companion he chose a deaf aid in form of a hearing trumpet, for his ears began to fail him. Gloin however has red hair, just like Bombur, also braided and growing long, even his beard grew several inches longer than most of the others.
So there they all were, 12 cheering dwarves embracing and greeting each other, laughing hapily. Bilbo stood dumbstruck in his hallway, where Oin and Gloin had dropped their brown and white cloaks. I picked them up from the floor and hung them on the wardrobe, next to the purple, grey, yellow and light green ones of the others. When I turned again to speak to Bilbo, I found myself on my own again. With a sigh I followed his nervous mumbling to the hallway between kitchen and dining room. In the latter the dwarves had joined three tables, so all of them would fit into one room. Gandalf stood in between and seemed to count them, as our visitors rushed here and there, to collect all food they could find and placed it on the tables. Bilbo constantly turned this and that way, wanted to stop Ori bolting off with his tomatoes, wanted to talk sense into Bombur, who made way for himself and three blocks of cheese, as well as he gave a laugh of hysteria when Fili and Kili carried a barrel of ale past him. What followed then was the most amazing thing I have seen so far. To describe the feast of the dwarves with a few words, it was ordered chaos. Food flew around in many directions, some walked straight over the table to get their cups refilled and a loud roaring was going on, along with laughter and even a few verses. Gandalf sat among them, laughing and obviously enjoying the company. I watched them in amazement, while Bilbo sat in his plundered kitchen and looked very desperate at his empty cupboards. All of the fresh and dried vegetables and fruits, the meat, the bread - all gone. After a long while he crept up to me and watched the dwarves eating his food and drinking his ale and wine, laughing and burping, while his anger grew constantly. I have no idea how long they ate, but eventually all plates were empty, as were two barrels of ale. Many of the dwarves lightened their pipes and leaned back in their chairs. Gandalf stood up to stretch his legs and was drawn from the room by Bilbo immediately. His wrath had now turned against the one who brought all the trouble to us that night; Bilbo now talked eagerly to the wizard, about what the dwarves had destroyed already and dragged him into several rooms for demonstration. I could only shake my head and had to smile. For not being impolite, I returned to the dining room to look after our guests, but when I entered the room, I saw that they were entertaining themselves quite well. Kili, Fili and Balin sat together, chatting. Bofur wandered around curiously and Dwalin took a look at one of his axes. Suddenly I heard Ori's voice from the hallway and went looking what was going on. He held his empty plate in front of Bilbo's face, not sure what to do with it. Before either Bilbo or me could respond, Fili walked up to Ori, took the plate out of his hand and said: "Here you go Ori, give it to me, I'll handle it." Fili threw the dish high into the air, over my head, right into Kili's hands, who stood behind me, halfway between dining room and kitchen. Just as I wanted to ask him to give it to me, he threw it blindly into the kitchen and I waited for the loud noise of shattered crockery. But it never came. I gave Kili an odd look, while he laughed at the shocked face of Bilbo. I stormed past him and took a look into the kitchen, where Bifur stood with a big smile on his face, the plate secure in his hands. Before I could sigh with relief the next plate sailed over my head and landed once more in Bifur's hands. Next thing I heard was Bilbo's nervous, little voice from the hallway, squeaking: "Stop it, will you! This is my mothers' most beloved West-Farthing porcelain. I dare you to break only one piece of it, it's over a hundred years old!" Unfortunately his screams drowned in the laughter of the other dwarves, for Nori, Dwalin, Oin and even Balin joined in their little game of "let's throw other people's things around". Bilbo went on screaming and venting his anger when he interrupted himself. He stared at the remaining dwarves who were still seated, for they had started to slash knives and forks against each other, as if doing swordplay. Bilbo stormed towards them, stopped short when a bowl flew past him and finally looked at me in desperation. I couldn't help myself but laugh. I hadn't seen him that excited for years. Suddenly I heard music playing from the dining room. Some of our visitors had brought their instruments; flutes, clarinets, even a drum. While I listened to the few notes they were playing, Bilbo shouted at Bofur, who wouldn't stop making fun of him, to leave his cutlery alone. He only gave a loud laugh at that and in a serious tone he turned to his companions and said: "Oh, you hear that, lads? He says we'll blunt the knives!" The others felt as amused as he was and laughter filled the little room. But suddenly Kili raised his voice and began to sing. Soon Fili fell in and slowly one after another joined them.
Apologies if the song misses some lines, but as well as I can remember it, this is what they sang:
Chip the glasses and crack the plates!
Blunt the knives and bend the forks!
That's what Billbo Baggins hates -
Smash the bottles and burn the corks!
Cut the cloth and tread on the fat!
Pour the milk on the pantry floor!
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!
Splash the wine on every door!
Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl,
Pound them up with a thumping pole;
And when you've finished, if any are whole,
Send them down the hall to roll!
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!
So, carefully! carefully with the plates!
While they were singing the throwing of the dishes went on, but when they were finished, all had gathered in the kitchen and as Bilbo finally stormed in, he saw that all the plates and cups and cutlery were clean and laid one over another. He stood there, his mouth wide open and unable to speak, while all the dwarves burst out in laughter and even Gandalf, who sat in between all of them, joined in. Bilbo sighed and looked at me in despair, but also with relief that nothing was broken. Then... there was a knock at the door again. While Bilbo's glance got a spark of anger, the dwarves had fallen silent. Gandalf, who had laughed merrily alongside the dwarves up till now, stood within the second and said with a smile: "He is here... finally!" Without another word he left the kitchen and went to the front door, followed by our visitors, who were all eager to get there, it seemed. Bilbo hurried along onward, as if he wanted to prove that it was still his home. I followed rather slowly, for whatever would come through that door wouldn't be much of a shock, now that we had survived this party, unexpected as it was. All gathered in the hallway and I chose my place behind the dwarves and watched Gandalf curiously as he opened the door. Outside stood yet another dwarf, although his appearance was like nothing I had ever seen before: He stood a bit taller than the others, if not in height, then by his commanding presence. In his eyes was a sort of glimmer, that fascinated me ever since. He looked at Gandalf with dark blue eyes under long, black hair, that showed the first wisps of grey already and a soft smile lightened up his grim face. "Gandalf! I thought you said this place was easy to find. I nearly lost my way! I think I should not have found it at all if not for that mark on the door..." Just as Gandalf wanted to reply, Bilbo lost his wits. He doesn't like it at all not be greeted, for a start, and secondly he had just thought of sharing his food with yet another uninvited guest, which made him quite angry. "Pardon me, but there is no mark on that door, to be sure. It was painted a week ago and ..." Gandalf interrupted him and said: "There is a mark for I put it there myself! Now, let me introduce you..." He looked at the newest visitor, who had just unfastened his sky-blue hood, and added: "Bilbo Baggins, this is the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield!" Nearly undetected, Thorin tilted his head and smiled at his fellow dwarves. Then he turned his gaze towards Bilbo and stepped closer to him "So... this is the Hobbit... Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?" Bilbo wrinkled his eyebrows, as did I. That seemed an odd question to ask. Everyone, who was aware of the presence of Hobbits knew, that among them you would seldom find a warrior or a hero. So all that Bilbo could give in return was a strange look which tempted Thorin to give a chuckle. "I thought as much...", he said, turned and left with the other dwarves for the dining room. When they were gone, I looked at Gandalf and said: "I think you owe us an explanation." But instead of giving it to me he just smiled down at me and left the hallway as well. I sighed and when I turned, I just caught a glimpse of Bilbo, who went towards his bedroom and again I was alone. I rubbed my forehead with my left hand, picked up Thorin's sky-blue hood and hung it up on the wardrobe, next to the other twelve. After doing so, I decided to join the dwarves and the wizard in the dining room, where Thorin ate what little food was left. While I wasn't present in the romm, a discussion had started and it seemed to concern Bilbo and also Gandalf's decision making in the past in some way. I stopped halfway into the room and settled myself in the door frame, my arms crossed and listening. "Don't get me wrong", Gloin started, "I am far from insulting this fine Hobbit, but speaking from my experience, our Mr. Baggins is hardly burglar material. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar!" It took me a while to notice that Bilbo wasn't even in the room, but soon my attention was drawn to Gandalf, who replied: "You, Thorin, asked me to find the 14th member of this company and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. If you want your plan to succeed you will need some help, this way or another." Out of nowhere Bilbo suddenly appeared next to me, stepped boldly into the room and stated: "Enough! I won't have talk about me without any saying in this matter. I may not seem experienced enough to be an adventurer or whatever you were talking about, but I won't stand any further accusations whatsoever!" Every eye was fixed on him by now and after a short pause he added: "Besides, I don't even know what you have in mind and before an explanation I won't be of anybody's service!" After that silence followed. Just as Bofur wanted to say something, Balin interrupted him by mentioning: "Be that as it may, it is no use talking about this expedition when we all know how pointless it is. Surely you have not forgotten that the front gate is sealed. It was smashed to rubbles and dust in the attack, even if we should get there, all the long way to the East (unlikely as it is), we could not enter. And neither wizards nor burglars can change that fact!" Just now I realized that Gandalf was smiling. "That, my dear Balin", he said, "is not entirely true!" With these words he produced a piece of parchment and placed it on the table. Thorin, who sat next to him, peered over it curiously. Gandalf began to unfold it and shortly afterwards a map became visible. Now Bilbo was at the table as well, for he loved maps very much.
It showed an area in the North-East of Middle-Earth and in the four corners of the map was listed what lay upon these lands. In the upper left corner was a note that read: "East lie the Iron Hills, where is Dain". Underneath this note was painted a mountain and just above the peak: a dragon. According to the map it was called "The Lonely Mountain" and on its feet lay Dale, on the shores of "The Running River". Further down the river was another note that "Men dwell in Esgaroth upon the Long Lake". On the bottom-side of the map one could see the beginning of a forest and another line said that to the West lies Mirkwood the Great, where spiders are. One note was left, located on the left side, saying that "Far to the North are the Grey Mountains and the Withered Hearth whence came the Great Worms". The vast land between the river flowing out of the forest and the Lonely Mountain was simply stated as "The Desolation of Smaug".
I lifted my gaze up again and noticed the change in Thorin's face. His eyes showed surprise as well as pain and he finally asked Gandalf: "How did you come by this? It is undoubtedly the map of my grandfather..." The wizard nodded. "It was given to me by your father, by Thrain. For safe-keeping. I was asked to it to you when the time was right." Thorin looked at him and tilted his head, before Balin raised his voice again: "And how is this map going to help us?" Gandalf took a deep breath and answered: "These runes speak of a hidden passage that leads into the mountain through the lower halls. Here, see...", he showed them the runes he referred to, "it says 'Five feet high the door and three may walk abreast'. And because it is a secret door it is most unlikely that anybody has discovered it yet." Thorin nodded most satisfied. Then Gandalf reached into one of his pockets and produced a key. "This is yours now as well... or you should not be able to enter the mountain if you can even get to it.", he said while handing the small key over to Thorin, who attached it to a fine silver necklace he wore under his jacket. "What exactly is that?" Everyone turned to Bilbo, who had taken a closer look at the map himself and pointed at the small dragon, painted in red ink, over the Lonely Mountain. "This is the reason why we are all here today... I would believe that it's crucial to tell the whole story, not only for our burglar, but also for those who weren't there.", Thorin said and looked at Fili and Kili with shining eyes. Bilbo sat down on a free chair and I walked up behind him and placed one of my hands on his shoulder. He looked up at me, smiled and glanced back at Thorin, who started his tale:
"Long ago in my grandfather Thror's time our family was driven out of the far North, and came back with all their wealth and their tools to this Mountain on the map. It had been discovered by my far ancestor, Thrain the Old, but now they mined and they tunnelled and made huger halls and greater workshops - and in addition I believe they found a good deal of gold and a great many jewels too. Anyway they grew immensely rich and famous, and my grandfather was King under the Mountain again, and treated with great reverence by the mortal men, who lived to the South, and were gradually spreading up the Running River as far as the valley overshadowed by the mountain. They built the merry city of Dale there in those days. Kings used to send for our smiths, and reward even the least skilful most richly. Fathers would beg us to take their sons as apprentices, and pay us handsomely, especially in food-supplies, which we never bothered to grow or find ourselves. Altogether these were good days for us, and the poorest of us had money to spend and to lend, and leisure to make beautiful things just for the fun of it, not to speak of the most marvellous and magical toys, the like of which is not to be found in the world now-a-days. So my grandfather's halls became full of armour and jewels and carvings and cups, and the toy market of Dale was the wonder of the North."
While telling this I couldn't help but notice that he seemed to grow and in this moment nothing could have been better than speaking of the success of his ancestors. Up till now his eyes were glowing with pride, but the light seemed to get dim already. I wondered how he had looked like back in these days, when he continued with a grim look on his face:
"Undoubtedly that was what brought the dragon. Dragons steal gold and jewels, you know, from men and elves and dwarves, wherever they can find them; and they guard their plunder as long as they live (which is practically forever, unless they are killed), and never enjoy a brass ring of it. Indeed they hardly know a good bit of work from a bad, though they usually have a good notion of the current market value; and they can't make a thing for themselves, not even mend a little loose scale from their armour. There were lots of dragons in the North in those days, and gold was probably getting scarce up there, with the dwarves flying south or getting killed, and all the general waste and destruction that dragons make going from bad to worse. There was a most specially greedy, strong and wicked worm called Smaug. One day he flew up into the air and came south. The first we heard was a noise like a hurricane coming from the North, and the pine-trees on the Mountain creaking and cracking in the wind. Some of the dwarves who happened to be outside, as I was myself, well..." He paused. It was obviously hard for him to talk about it, but nevertheless he went on with a hushed voice: "From a good way off we saw the dragon settle on our mountain in a spout of flame. Then he came down the slopes and when he reached the woods they all went up in fire. By that time all the bells were ringing in Dale and the warriors were arming. The
dwarves rushed out of their great gate; but there was the dragon waiting for them. None escaped that way. The river rushed up in steam and a fog fell on Dale, and in the fog the dragon came on them and destroyed most of the warriors - the usual unhappy story, it was only too common in those days. Then he went back and crept in through the Front Gate and routed out all the halls, and lanes, and tunnels, alleys, cellars, mansions and passages. After that there were no dwarves left alive inside, and he took all their wealth for himself. Probably, for that is the dragons' way, he has piled it all up in a great heap far inside, and sleeps on it for a bed. Later he used to crawl out of the great gate and come by night to Dale, and carry away people, especially maidens, to eat, until Dale was ruined, and all the people dead or gone. The few of us that were well outside sat and wept in hiding, and cursed Smaug; and there we were unexpectedly joined by my father and grandfather. To this day I did not know how they could have escaped, but it all becomes clear, now that I know of another entrance. "
Everyone had fallen silent while his telling went on and now they all looked at him, waiting. I noticed that Balin had a very sad look on his face and also Dwalin only stared at his own hands. I sensed that they had been there, among the devastation and ruin and I tried to imagine what it must be like, to see your homeland going up in flames. I gathered my thoughts again and returned to the present, where Thorin got himself out of his chair. Only then I realized that I had gripped Bilbo's shoulder quite tight and I lightened my grasp immediately. My attention returned to Thorin, who now stood at the head of the table and began to speak once more: "My friends, I am glad to tell you, our time has come. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for more than 60 years. Rumours have begun to spread that he left the Lonely Mountain and Erebor is free again..." Gandalf interrupted him promptly in saying: "How much can you trust in this rumours? Only because he hasn't come out does not mean that he is not there anymore." Thorin stared at him in anger: "Be that as it may, but if word of a possible chance to get near the mountain has spread to us, others will know of this as well." He turned to the other dwarves again, his hands resting supporting on the table, towering over all of them. "Ever since, others have tried to claim what our fathers and grandfathers built over hundreds of years. A long time has passed since the dragon took our home from us, but we never forgot this tragic day... Some of us still remember Erebor in its glory and beauty... and so it shall be once more. I say, we take this chance and go East. I say, we reclaim the homeland of our fathers and make it the homeland of our sons and descendants. I say, we march, to see if at least some of the rumours are true. I know, it is a big task, but we will manage every difficulty that will come in our way. And if we can't solve some things with our weapons or our strength... we will do so with secrecy." With his last words he looked at Bilbo, who couldn't link himself to Thorin's speech. Out of nowhere I heard Ori's voice, thought quite silent, saying: "That's what we need a burglar for!" His older brother hushed him down, while Bilbo seemed to comprehend what was just said. When he didn't react after a moment, I leaned down to his ear and whispered: "They mean you..." He slowly turned and looked at me, then at the dwarves and finally at Gandalf, who was already stating a lot of positive and useful skills that Bilbo possessed, as the information sank in. While Bilbo tried to find arguments why he couldn't join them, I noticed that Thorin was staring at me. I couldn't say a word and also wasn't able to figure out what his look meant. I guess it was a mixture of curiosity and doubt. I also saw a lot of distrust and after some seconds he eventually said: "And what about her? Gandalf, I don't think that our Company can hold a 15th member, we did not agree upon that." He didn't need to say another word, I understood perfectly. I leaned down and whispered into Bilbo's ear, that he would be alright, clapped on his shoulder and left the room without another word, before Gandalf could give an answer. I rushed away from the noises and towards my bedroom, thinking to myself: "If the boys got to talk, I won't disturb them!" Although I tried not to give any oxygen to the fire, I felt anger rising up and forced myself to calm down. I took a deep breath and tried to banish the usual thoughts of insecurity and doubt. It wasn't the first time someone gave me that certain look, like not belonging where I was or being utterly unwanted, and it wouldn't be the last time either. I decided to put my energy into something more productive. I left my bedroom again and went straight to the front door, opened it and took a step outside. It was dark already and I saw the first stars on the Western Sky. The cool air surrounding me somehow soothed my temper and soon I decided to get back inside. Thinking of the late hour I came to the conclusion that our guests wouldn't be going anywhere today, so I began collecting all blankets and sheets I could find and prepared sleeping spaces for all of them. That was no easy task, for it took a while to find enough room, but eventually I figured out how we could manage it.
It took me about an hour to finish - some would have to sleep on a couch and not in a bed - but I was quite proud of my work. I felt hot and wiped away a drop of sweat on my forehead. I jumped when a voice from behind called me, for I hadn't noticed anyone coming into the room. Bilbo apologized and sat down on a trunk, which stood next to the door frame. He looked at me with his blue eyes and asked: "Is everything alright?" I nodded and replied: "Sure, I am fine, just needed some air." As I flattened the sheet on the bed I returned the question: "What about you? You look pale." He gave a weak smile as he answered: "See what they gave me... an official contract to hire me as a burglar. Me... Bilbo Baggins. Quite absurd, isn't it?" I looked at him sternly and said: "And... have you thought about doing it?" He shook his head and replied: "Of course not, I mean... I cannot go, I just can't." "Why not?" Now he looked at me as if I had lost my mind. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, so I sat down on the floor in front of him and said: "Bilbo... You thought about going somewhere else since your childhood. You may never have said so, but I know you do and you know it too. You've seen the world only through your maps and in your books; I think it's time to have a look at it in person." I grabbed his hands. "Go! Go and see the world for yourself. Take this chance to get out the door." He looked down at his hands, resting in mine. "You mean well... and you're right. For a long time I've dreamed of seeing what is beyond those trees at our borders. But who is going to promise me that I will return safe and sound? I can't sign that thing!" With this he stood up, loosened his hands from my grip and turned to leave the room. Halfway out he stopped short and added: "Besides, I couldn't leave you here, on your own, and to bid you to join them is too much to ask." I stood up myself and laid my arms around him. "My dear Bilbo... Do you honestly believe I would let you go anywhere on your own? Of course I would come with you and if they want to stop me, they'll have to tie me up in a sack. Just think about it again, before you call your decision final." I threw a kiss on his cheek, stood up and left him alone in thoughts. I wandered towards the dining room and heard soft music playing, so I went closer. The dwarves had begun to play music again and slowly one after another fell in with Thorin's voice. They sang a song with deep-throated voices, echoing the memories of deep places in ancient realms and speaking of love, the deep-hearted love of beautiful things made by hand. While I listened it seemed as if darkness crept into the room and reduced the light of the fire. Still it wasn't a frightening darkness, it was more like a darkening that helps you to clear your mind and free your thoughts:
Far over the Misty Mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away, ere break of day
To seek the pale enchanted gold.
The dwarves of yore made mighty spells
As hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep
In hollow halls beneath the fells.
For ancient king and elvish lord
There many a gleaming golden hoard
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught
To hide in gems on hilt of sword.
On silver necklaces they strung
The flowering stars on crowns they hung
The dragon fire in twisted wire
They meshed the light of moon and sun.
Far over the Misty Mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away, ere break of day
To claim our long forgotten gold.
Goblets they carved there for themselves
And harps of gold where no men delves
There lay they long and many a song
Was sung unheard by men or elves.
The pines were roaring on the heigt
The wind were moaning in the night
The fire was red, it flaming spread
The trees like torches blazed with light.
The bells were ringing in the Dale
And men looked up with faces pale
The dragon's ire, more fierce than fire
Laid low there towers and houses frail.
The mountain smoked beneath the moon
The dwarves they heard the tramps of doom
They fled their hall to dying fall
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon
Far over the Misty Mountains grim
To dungeons deep and caverns dim
We must away, ere break of day
To win our harps and gold from him!
I took a deep breath and sucked in the air greedily, because it felt as if I had forgotten to breathe at all in the last minute. With slightly shaking hands I brushed away the tear that rolled down my cheek. I had forgotten that I started crying as well. In my heart I felt a great sadness and sorrow and after a few seconds it turned into pity. I lifted my gaze and recognized that Bilbo stood right in front of me, looking almost as startled as me. He gave me a look that I couldn't quite interpret, then turned on his heels and went away. One after another, the dwarves left the dining room and after I had cleared my throat, I showed them to their beds and wished them a good night. The last one was Thorin, to whom I assigned our best guest room, right between Bilbo's and mine. As we stood before it, I opened the door, then turned to face him and said: "If Bilbo should decide to join you, know this: I don't care a bit about your quest or your revenge, not even about your company. But I won't leave Bilbos side; wherever he goes I'll go as well. I gave a promise once to protect him and I am determined to keep it. He is my brother and after all I've heard so far, you do care for family. So do I. Take this under consideration." He didn't say a word. He just stared at me. After another moment of silence he tilted his head as a sign of acknowledgement and walked past me into his room. All of a sudden I felt very tired. My only wish was to go to bed and so I turned left and entered my room. I didn't even bother to get out of my clothes and crawled under my sheets. Then I closed my eyes and waited for my breathing to slow down. Before I faded away into a dream of golden halls and gems full of starlight, I could hear Thorin singing next door:
Far over the Misty Mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away, ere break of day
To find our long forgotten gold
