Gandalf the Grey was enjoying a casual stroll through the stamped out dirt-paths of Hobbiton, passing by the various houses - Hobbit-Holes as he understood they were called - and casually passing a pleasant and polite greeting to the various citizens of Hobbits that lived there. Gandalf gave a contented sigh. He had to admitted that in all of his travels in this Middle Earth, there were fewer places he enjoyed visiting more than he did the Shire; a land of rolling green pastures over hills, wide open spaces where you could see the blue sky, and a calm, peaceful demeanor not shared by many in this world. It was the Shire where Gandalf felt the most relaxed.
But he was hardly here for a holiday; no, Gandalf was here on the strictest of business. He wasn't precisely sure his scheme would actually work, but he was adamant that the one he was to choose to join his party would be found right here in Hobbiton. And he knew exactly where to look for him.
Gandalf passed around the last bend, and finally he saw Bag-End come into view; the ancestral home of 'The Baggins' - a most respectable family of Hobbits, who had lived there for generations. And it was here he was certain to find Bilbo Baggins - the Hobbit he intended to recruit for this mission. He was certain that the young Hobbit would leap at the chance to join him. Despite his Baggins' heritage, Bilbo was also a Took - born from his mother, Belladonna's side. The Took's were known to be brash-headed and somewhat reckless. And it is for those reasons, that Gandalf knew that Bilbo was his man...
Gandalf continued up the path, expecting to find Bilbo enjoying some pipe-weed on the front porch. But what he did find was most unexpected. Gandalf gazed upon the back of a young-man clad in a green tunic, with corn-blonde hair, and very pointed ears. They were far more pointed than any race Gandalf had encountered in Middle Earth. The man was seated in front of a painting easel, leaning close to the canvas while he painted. Gandalf took a glance over his shoulder and could see that the man wasn't painting at all. He was writing letters in the common-tongue in black paint. He seemed to be making some sort of sign.
Gandalf stood watching this young man and had this strange feeling about him; like whoever he was, he was completely out of place here. Who was this person and why would Bilbo Baggins allow him to paint a sign just yards from his front door? Gandalf knew there was only one way to get answers, and as of yet, this man had not yet turned to take notice of him. Gandalf quietly cleared his throat.
The man turned around showing a calm, kind and young face. Gandalf could sense the youth from this person and guessed he could not be more than seventeen; he was still only a boy. The boy spotted Gandalf with his big blue eyes the moment he'd turned around and politely smiled.
"Hello," he said nodding his head to Gandalf. "Oh, are you here for the sale?"
"Sale? What sale?" Gandalf asked.
"Oh, then I guess you're not," the boy said looking a bit dejected. "I'm looking to sell some things. It is why I was making this sign." The boy gestured back to the canvas he was painting on, and Gandalf now made out the words -
Food For Sale
Everything Mu-
But the sign was not yet finished, as Gandalf had interrupted him. The boy turned back to Gandalf and said, "I was hoping to have already sold the lot by now, when I put this sign out just a few days ago; but a few of the locals came by and told me that no one could read it."
The boy gestured to another sign - a smaller one he'd been holding and copying from while he made the new one. And Gandalf could see why; it was written in a language that he had never seen before. "So as you can see, I'm trying to translate the words from my language into the more commonly accepted script found around here. I'm not sure I'm quite good at it, just yet."
Gandalf gave a polite smile and nodded his head. In truth he was caught off guard and felt very awkward. It was the first time any of this had happened to Gandalf; he was used to being in control of most interactions he'd had with people.
"So if you don't mind my asking; what does bring you by on this rather fine morning?" the boy asked Gandalf.
"Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to intrude on you. I was merely looking for the owner of this house; Bilbo Baggins, is he in?" Gandalf asked politely.
"Oh," the boy suddenly looked a bit worried. "I'm sorry to inform you but, the person you are looking for no longer lives here."
"What? How can that be? Bilbo Baggins leave Bag-End? Preposterous? Has something happened to him?" Gandalf asked.
"No sir; none to my knowledge at least," the boy explained. "He mentioned something about being so fed-up with his relatives constantly hounding him, that he needed to get away from it all. I in the meantime just happened to be passing through town on that day, when we happened to cross paths."
What little the stranger could give was indeed true. Bilbo Baggins had become so annoyed by his cousin, Lobelia Sackville-Baggins; her side of the family were always the jealous off-shoots of the pure-blooded Baggins line, believing that they were owed some right to the wealth of Landowning Baggins name. But Bilbo was as of current, the sole heir to the house and title. He'd finally caught Lobelia in the act of trying to amend his will, so that she and her family would inherit Bag-End should he die. He had become so frustrated with her, that he swore in front of many witnesses that he would offer Bag-End and most of its possessions found inside to the first stranger he met that day, just to spite her and her family. When he did meet our mysterious stranger, he offered the deed to him outright, practically begging him to take the house off his hands. He was only able to convince the stranger that he had no more use of his house, and was giving it to him as a "Mathom" - a tradition in which a Hobbit will gift a possession they no longer have use for, to someone else. It was unknown where Bilbo was planning to go or what he was planning to do. Perhaps all of this was just his own way of throwing a tantrum. But regardless of the reasons, fate deemed that he be out of the way for the proceedings.
"And so...Here I am," the boy continued. "The new owner of this house. Is there anything I can do to help you with?
Gandalf gave a somewhat puzzled look to the boy.
"That remains to be seen," he said. "So Bilbo Baggins just up and gave you the Title-Deed to Bag-End. You couldn't perhaps point me in the right direction to find him, could you?"
"I'm sorry, Sir, I could not," the boy said. "He made no mention of where he was going to go or what he was going to do. I have no idea where he is now." Gandalf gave a dejected sigh. "I'm sorry I could not be much help to you, friend; but I really must return to getting the sale underway. I've got very little time to lose."
"You never did explain to me what this sale was, my good fellow," Gandalf said now leaning on his staff.
"Oh well you see, when the previous owner - Mr. Bilbo as you call him - willed me this house, he left a lot of stuff behind; including an entire pantry filled to the brim with more food than one single person could ever do with. I haven't seen so much food stored in one place outside of a Castle's stores. My point is, I have no means of finishing off all of this food by myself before it goes bad, so I was hoping to sell it to anyone in town who would be willing to buy it. And I must hurry before it all rots."
Gandalf gave a smile and a slight chuckle. He found it more amusing to not tell this strange fellow that Hobbit-Pantries are a most excellent place to store food. There is some kind of 'natural magic' that is interwoven in the pantries of a Hobbit's House that could keep stores of bread and cheese and even raw meat fresh for months, maybe even years at a time. But as Gandalf listened to the boy's dilemma, he couldn't help but grow to admire the rather realistic minimalist view this boy had. He seemed to only be interested in having what he needed to keep himself, and not at all in the excess that the Hobbits were accustomed to.
While Gandalf quietly pondered for a moment, he hadn't noticed that the boy was now curiously observing him; studying him as it were, until an epiphany showed forming in the boy's eyes. The boy stood up. Gandalf saw that the boy was small for a man, but still taller than a Hobbit; he wondered how comfortable he would be inside of a Hobbit-Hole.
"I'm sorry, Stranger but, we have not properly been introduced," he said leaning a bit toward Gandalf. "You would not happen to be The Grey Pilgrim, by chance, would you?"
"The Grey Pilgrim?" Gandalf asked with another chuckle.
"Yes, ever since I arrived in this strange land, I have been hearing tales of a wondering one, known as The Mithrandir, and when I asked what that title meant, they said it was 'Grey Pilgrim'. They claimed that this man often travels, disguised in a grey cloak, with a long beard and a walking staff; but that he is a great Wizard of powerful magic, but also a very gentle and caring soul. In fact, some of the neighbors around here claim that he were to pass this way every so often. And now I find you here, Stranger; a full three heads taller than anyone found in these parts, cloaked in grey with a long beard and a staff. So I ask, are you he?"
Gandalf gave a smile, pleased that his reputation had found its way to this boy's ears, to the point where he could correctly deduce his identity, when so many had assumed Gandalf to be just a homeless vagabond.
"Well, your deduction has lead you to the truth; I am indeed, the Wizard. My name is Gandalf; Gandalf the Grey," he said smiling.
The boy then gave a sudden cautious look and slightly turned his head. "Gandalf, you said?" he asked. "Gandalf..." The boy then perked up again, taking on a somewhat apologetic look. "Please forgive me that; for a moment your name reminded me of someone else; of an old and...dangerous enemy."
Gandalf looked hurt for a moment, "Well regardless of the coincidental resemblance of my name, I am certainly not this enemy you speak of. And my name could not define this person, as I am the only one who belongs to it; I am Gandalf...and Gandalf means," Gandalf calmed down for a moment and took a breath before smiling again. "Me..."
"And it is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Gandalf," the boy said reaching his hand. "And I am Link, of the Kokiri Forest."
Gandalf took Link's hand and shook it, glad to be properly introduced to him. But Gandalf was still a bit puzzled.
"The Kokiri Forest? That is not a name I have heard of; is it in Middle Earth?" Gandalf asked.
"No sir; you see I am not just a stranger to these lands," Link said. "I am also a stranger to this whole world. The place I come from lies in an alternate world, far away from here; unreachable by foot or horse, or sail. It is the land of Hyrule; and I myself am a Hylian. I came here by opening a magical door which lead me to these lands."
"And if what you say is true, then what brings you to Middle Earth, my friend?" Gandalf asked.
"Rest and relaxation of course," Link said. He pointed out to the Shire. "These beautiful green hills breathe with the wind. And the flowing streams make soft music. It is a fine place to be for the calm; and quite fortunate for me that I happen across the one Halfling who was looking to be rid of his home."
Gandalf then gave another inquisitive look at this person. That was one of the first indications that this boy might not be the perfect replacement after all. But Gandalf was already behind on schedule, and with Bilbo gone, and no one else he could find on such short notice, he was out of options.
"So, any particular reasons you came to call on Mr. Bilbo, Mr. Gandalf?" Link asked.
"Well yes, official business really," Gandalf said. His attitude and voice changed to one of an enticing tone; a dramatic one, meant to make the person listening feel excited. He turned his head, opening his eyes in that suggestive manner. "I am looking for someone to share in an Adventure..."
Link's eyes lit up, Gandalf could sense that the boy was interested. But then, he rather coyly looked away and smiled.
"An adventure, you say?" he asked stroking his chin. "I can't imagine why you would come to ask on Mr. Baggins for anything like that. He seems more like the 'cup-of-tea-at-four' kind of person. He hardly seems like the type you could depend on for an adventure. No...if you want someone for an adventure, you will need someone-"
Suddenly Link in a rather quick and sudden movement, moved across the front yard of Bag-End. He did it so fast that Gandalf could barely keep up. "-Quick," he said. "Someone light on their feet." Link began jumping from side to side, seeming quite nimble thanks to his age. He looked down at a decorative boulder found sticking out of the ground in the lawn. "Someone Strong!" he reached down and lifted the boulder, pulling it out of the dirt and holding it over his head. Gandalf was quite amused and actually begun to laugh and give applause.
"Someone agile!" Link suddenly rushed toward the wall of Bag-End and tried running up the wall, back flipping off of it. He stood before Gandalf. "Someone who is used to traveling overland on foot, going for great periods of time without food or sleep. And most importantly; someone who is skilled with a sword." He began swinging his paint-brush, showing off his technique. "That's the kind of person you need."
"Splendid," Gandalf said. "Certainly do indeed."
"Yes...but unfortunately for you, I am retired," Link suddenly said, hopping back over the fence and returning to his easel.
"Retired? What on earth do you mean?" Gandalf asked.
"I've had my share of adventures," Link said rolling up his sleeves, showing various scars. "I've fought my monsters, raided my dungeons, and rescued my Princesses. I came to this land on vacation; rest and relaxation."
"You've been on many adventures? But how old are you, my boy?" Gandalf asked.
"Trust me when I tell you, Mister Gandalf," Link said. "I am in fact much older than I look. I have been through a lot in my days. And I just want some peace. I'm sorry my friend, but I cannot help you." Gandalf looked disappointed. If everything this boy said was true, then he was absolutely perfect for the job; especially since Bilbo had vanished. But he knew he simply could not manipulate this boy the same way he planned to do Bilbo - should the Hobbit refuse of course. No, this boy - he could tell - was very strong willed. He would have to use some sort of cunning to get this boy to change his mind. Link had returned to painting his sign. "Plus, I cannot go on an adventure now. I'm much too occupied with the sale; if I were to leave on an adventure, all the food would surely have gone bad long before my return. The whole house would smell something awful."
And then Gandalf got an idea. He quietly grumbled to himself, trying to sound disappointed.
"Well I appreciate your time and your candor, Mister Link," Gandalf said. "I am admittedly disappointed to be without your clear expertise in this situation, of course. I will have to find another candidate to join me and the others on this quest. Although, there is still something that I need help with. I was wondering if anyone in Hobbiton might be able to help with that, now that Bilbo is gone."
"Oh really?" Link asked from over his shoulder. "And what would that be?"
"Well, truth be told, I wasn't exactly planning on asking Bilbo to join the quest at all," Gandalf said. "In truth, I was merely looking for someone to...host a dinner party." - Gandalf said those last words with the same enticing tone and look from before.
Suddenly Link stopped painting and turned his head away from the canvas.
"Dinner party?" Link asked. Gandalf knew he'd gotten him.
"Yes; you see the other members of our company are gathering for our quest. I told them that I would find a venue for us to meet together and discuss the final arrangements for our quest before they head out," Gandalf said.
Link turned on his stool to look at Gandalf again. "This Dinner-Party you wish to throw...How many guests would one have to prepare for?"
"Myself and thirteen others," Gandalf said. "And we would definitely need much food and drink to keep us throughout the night."
"Fourteen in total," Link said to himself. He ran his tongue over his teeth as he quietly pondered. Gandalf was certain he was taking the bait. "Well then it's decided," Link said standing up. "I would be honored to host this party for you and your company, Mr. Gandalf."
"Excellent; I feel it will be good for you to meet them," Gandalf said. "I will go inform the others and tell them to meet here tonight."
"Certainly; I will get to work preparing a grand feast for you and your friends," Link said taking the easel and canvas and paint back toward the ground green door to Bag End. He was surprised to see that Gandalf was following him.
"I think it best that we mark the door, so that my friends will know the meeting place. Some of them are sure to arrive before me," Gandalf said.
"Excellent idea," Link said and stepped off to the side.
Gandalf raised the end of his staff to where a nail, sticking out of the end touched the door. He dragged the nail across the paint, leaving a glowing blue mark, written in elvish on the door. It wasn't much to see in the day, but at night time, it was sure to glow. Seeing it, Link smiled and looked back at Gandalf.
"Yes; well alright, my very young friend," Gandalf said. "I shall go to announce our venue to the others. I trust that tonight shall be very amusing indeed."
"I shall anxiously await your arrival, Sir Wizard," Link said. He was about to turn around and go into the house, when Gandalf beckoned again.
"Oh and one last thing, my lad," Gandalf said. "I hope you don't find this rude, but I trust it would be to our advantage tonight, if you were to disguise your ears. Just hide them out of sight, and all should be fine."
"My ears? But why?" Link asked. But before he could press the question, Gandalf had already turned around to walk back down the hill. Link was about to go back inside, when he suddenly looked down at the two signs in his hand; the original written in his native Hylian, and the other unfinished sign. He looked back at Gandalf before breaking the two signs over his knee, and tossing them into the bushes beside the house. He quickly entered the round green door, to begin working.
It was somewhat a cumbersome job. Link was still somewhat short for his age; not a tall man of impressive bearing like Gandalf, but still that of a smaller youth. He was admittedly nervous about taking the house from the rather desperate Halfling, but he saw no better view anywhere else in this wonderful town. Fortunately, Link did not have to tilt himself or crane his neck to avoid hitting the low ceiling here. His hair basically brushed against each door frame, but it was still easy to move around in.
The first thing Link did was go to the pantry, where a long table had been placed directly down the center. There were chairs upturned and hung on the surface of the table, lining its edge. He counted them up to sixteen. There was just enough for everyone to have a placement. He immediately grabbed the table and began pulling it out into the dining hall. Surely there would be enough room for everyone.
Link then went to his most excited part; emptying the pantry of anything he felt would be good to serve his guests. He grabbed plates of bread and biscuits alongside tiny jars of butter and jam. He grabbed the wheels of cheese - any kind from yellow cheddar, to that rather smelly kind with blue mold. He cut the blocks up before arranging them on several plates. He grabbed the bowl of apples, placing them on the table as well. He spotted the hanging sausage links in the pantry. He quickly grabbed them and threw them onto a pan before laying them over the stove. They smelled incredible as they began to cook.
But then he had a thought. Most of everything he'd laid out was mere appetizers and finger foods. It was good for each member of the party to reach out and take what they wanted. But hardly appropriate for a dinner party; it needed a main course. He grabbed as many vegetables as he could find and threw them all into a big cauldron of water. He hung the cauldron over the fireplace to boil the vegetables into a soft edible form. But boiled vegetables seemed more like a side-dish more than anything else. What should he do to offer the guests? He quietly pondered while he looked at the bowl of apples. And then got an idea.
He went to the back of the pantry where there was a small chest filled with ice. And inside, still wrapped up from the butcher's shop was a whole swine, still fresh. This was perfect. Link brought it out into the kitchen where he began to season it with various salts and spices. Then as soon as the vegetables were done boiling, Link took the fire-place spit and skewered the swine. He hung it up over the fire place, where it began to cook over the rolling flames. Link turned the spit, evenly exposing each side to the flames as the pork began to roast. Link would stop occasionally to add more seasonings and drizzle some lemon juice over the roast.
Link had kept himself so busy throughout the day that as the Pork's skin was beginning to darken to a beautiful brown, he looked out the window and saw that the sun had gone down. Night had fallen and the guests were sure to be arriving soon. Fortunately he was still dressed to receive. He continued to turn the spin, occasionally taking in the pleasant aroma. Link then looked out into the hall and realized that in his rush to get everything prepared for tonight, he himself had skipped lunch. He was now definitely hungry. Perhaps if he nipped just a little off of the roast, just to check if it was ready yet.
Suddenly there came a ringing from the front door. Link smiled; the first of the guests was here. He immediately wiped himself down to get whatever filth or cooking stains he'd collected from his preparations off, and make himself presentable. He excitedly went to the front door, took a breath and reached for the knob. But he stopped; he suddenly remembered that Gandalf had told him to hide his ears from the other guests. And he didn't have his trusted hat on him; it was in his room. He had to improvise quickly. He spotted a cloth sitting on the armchair in the den. He grabbed it and quickly wrapped it around his head as a makeshift turban, taking special care to make sure his ears were covered.
Once he was secure, he returned to the door and opened it. Fortunately, during his brief weeks living among Hobbits, Link had acclimated to expect that his guests would be short. In truth, he wasn't expecting such from a company with someone as tall as Gandalf, but then why would he come here of all places looking for a venue? Link's expectations were somewhat rewarded when he saw a shorter figure appear at his door.
Only this person wasn't as short as a Hobbit. It wasn't a Hobbit at all. It was a Dwarf. He had a bald head, save for the incredible length of hair just above his ears, and a beard formed mostly by an incredible mustache under his long nose. He wore a brown cloak over his shoulders. When he saw Link he gave a curious look to the turban. He soon bowed his head.
"Dwalin, at your service," he said in a deep and gruff voice.
"Link, at yours," Link said with a smile and returned the bow. "Please, come on in. May I take your cloak."
"You may," Dwalin said undoing it and handing it off to Link. Link saw underneath that Dwalin's tunic seemed to be made of bear-skin fur. "Which way, Laddie?"
"Oh it's right down the hall to the left," Link said hanging up Dwalin's coat on a nearby rack. "Are any more of your party with you?" He asked. But he soon realized it wasn't the case and he closed the door.
"Hmm; it smells delicious lad," Dwalin said.
"Oh yes, I uh...I hope you and your friends like salted-pork," Link said heading off to the kitchen.
"Oh only the finest at this house," Dwalin said, his eyes beaming upon hearing the words 'salted-pork.'
"Well sorry to say that, supper will just be a few more minutes wait," Link said. "It should be ready by the time more guests arrive. In fact, if you'd be willing to help me real quick."
"Sure, what do you need?" Dwalin said following. Link showed him to the fire place, where the roast was cooking over the fire, and showed Dwalin to the spit.
"If you could just give the roast a few more turns, while I answer the door for the other guests, that would be perfect," Link said.
"No problem," Dwalin said. He took to turning the crank without complaint.
"Thanks very much," Link said.
A moment later, the doorbell rang again, and Link was rushing back to it, trying to hide his enthusiasm. Upon opening the door, he found another Dwarf waiting to greet him. This one was older than Dwalin, and greeted Link with a kind smile. He had a full head of long white hair, and a white beard; and yet no mustache under his bulbous nose. He wore a maroon coat. He too bowed to Link, this time, a full bow, rather than just a nod as Dwalin had done.
"Balin, at your service," the Dwarf said.
"Good evening," Link said with a smile. "Link, your host. Due come in."
"It is a good evening, is it not?" Balin said entering with a warm smile. "Might rain later. So, am I late?"
"Oh no, you're actually only the second to arrive," Link said. "The other guest was just helping me in the kitchen. This way if you please."
Balin looked off to the kitchen and saw Dwalin there, still turning the spit.
"Oh-hohoh, hahaha!" he laughed, catching Dwalin's attention, who smiled upon seeing him. "To find you, helping in a kitchen," he said. "Evening, Brother."
Dwalin left the spit and the two approached each other. "By my beard," Dwalin said. "You're shorter and wider than last we met."
"Wider, not shorter," Balin corrected. "Sharp enough for both of us." Balin then winked and Dwalin laughed.
Suddenly the two grabbed each other's shoulders and butted their heads together; each seeming unfazed by the act. Link could only smile seeing this, still unused to Dwarf customs.
"So where is it that we'll be eating?" Balin asked now turning to Link.
Link had moved around them back to the kitchen and saw the roast. "Ah, the pork should be done by now. He removed the spit from the fireplace flu, and moved it over to a silver platter. He removed the skewer and placed it aside. He began carving up slices of pork, each slice releasing steam and a delicious aroma. "And we are good."
"Looks splendid, Lad," Balin said.
"Yes it is," Link said picking up the platter. "This way, if you please." He then lead the dwarfs out of the kitchen to the hall where he had set up the banquet table. "Here we are, gents," Link said placing the roast in the dead-center of the table. The two Dwarfs eyes lit-up as they saw a feast to behold. Several bowls and plates strewn about the table, loaded to the brim with steamed vegetables, sausage links, apples, some peppers, bread and biscuits. Their mouths watered upon seeing it. "Unfortunately, I believe it would be rude for us to begin before all the guests arrive."
Dwalin looked frustrated, but Balin - albeit somewhat begrudgingly - agreed with Link. "Aye, that it would be, Lad - that it would."
"So, how about we have an ale while we wait?" Link asked.
"That's the ticket," Dwalin said. "I'm beginning to like this fellow."
Link led them to the pantry where several casks of ale were propped up along the side. Link took three large wooden mugs and filled them to the brim before handing them off to his two guests.
"Here you are, Lads," he said, holding his own mug. "To new friendships, and to the success of your company," he said tapping his mug against Dwalin's.
"Here-Here!" Dwalin said. Balin himself concurred as the three tapped their mugs together. The two dwarfs immediately took a drink. Link was about to as well, when the doorbell rang again.
"Ah, more guests have arrived. I'll be right back; help yourselves to another," he said. Link moved back out to the main hall, double-checking his turban to ensure his ears were covered.
He opened the door to find two guests this time; both dwarfs like the first two, only much younger, and far less traditionally dwarfish. One was a blonde with a trimmed goatee, and two braided locks along each side of his face in front and behind the ear. The other was brown haired with a more unkempt but still new beard. Both could be seen as traditionally hansom.
"Fili," the Blonde said.
"Kili," the Brunette said.
Then in unison, they both bowed and said, "-At your service."
Upon rising up, Kili smiled and said, "You must be Mr. Link."
"That I am," Link said. "C'mon in, friends."
"We can't tell you how relieved we are," Kili said. "We were almost afraid it was going to be cancelled."
Before Link could ask what he meant, he suddenly found weapons shoved into his arms, a sword from each dwarf.
"Be careful with these, we've just had 'em sharpened," Fili said.
"Certainly," Link said. Link then moved off to the side where a few spare hooks were left hanging up. The former owner had used them to hang pictures, but Link had taken to using them to hang some of his old equipment. And now he was hanging up the swords as if they were display items. Although he inspected the swords slightly unsheathing them, just below the hilt. He saw that the blade looked a bit worn. "You call this 'sharpened'?" he asked under his breath.
"It's nice, this place," Kili said looking around. "You do it yourself?"
"No, actually, I recently acquired the house," Link said. "The other guests are having a drink near the pantry, if the mood should strike you."
As if on cue, Dwalin appeared around the corner with his mug and spotted them.
"Fili, Kili," he said. He took Kili by the shoulder. "C'mere and have a drink with us."
"Mr. Dwalin," Kili said.
Balin meanwhile was milling around the banquet feast. "Well it looks like we'll have enough chairs and enough room to get everyone in," he said. "Very accommodating, Mr. Link."
When Link saw that the four dwarfs seemed engrossed in engaging each other, he felt it was the perfect opportunity to sneak off and grab his hat. However just before he could step down toward the bedroom, the bell rang again. Link sighed and felt slightly annoyed at this, believing that if each guest continued to arrive, one by one, then he'd be drawn back and forth between the door, and he'd never get to his hat. But Link tried to put on a happy-face, believing that it surely must get better after this.
Upon opening up the door, he found the door pushed of the way open, forcing him to step out of the way to avoid a literal wave of guests falling into the house, and landing in a big pile at his boots. Link could see that there were eight of them, all in a pile that just fell through his front door. He was initially surprised; too surprised at the sudden-appearance of them all, that he didn't think to reach down and help any of them up.
One by one, they each looked up at him. And Link could see by their size and other features that they were indeed all dwarfs. One by one, they all stated their names.
"Dori,"
"Ori,"
"Nori,"
"Oin,"
"Gloin,"
"Bifur,"
"Bofur,"
"Bombur,"
"- At your service," they all said, bowing their heads, some bumping against the floor.
Link was still left in shock; he wasn't expecting to be entertaining a company of dwarfs. He suddenly looked up to see someone else standing in the door frame, now leaning in to take a look. It was the gray cloaked wizard that had suggested this to him from the beginning.
"And Gandalf..." Link said with a smile. He looked down on the dwarf pile that lay before him, and he outstretched his arms. "Welcome to Bag-End," he said.
Before long, he lead his guests into the dining room where they all beamed in sight of the banquet laid before them. "Tuck-in," he said.
Immediately the dwarfs swarmed toward the table, each taking up a seat, grabbing a plate and reaching for whatever they could get their hands on.
Gandalf had effectively taken over the job overseeing the group and making sure that they were all getting effectively what they needed, and that there was enough to go around. This gave Gandalf the time to take stock of everyone in the group. Link in the meantime had managed to sneak off to his room to replace his doily turban with his proper hat - a long green one that drooped off the back of his head. He made sure to tuck his ears underneath.
He stood in the center of the hall, as each of the dwarfs moved about, going back and forth between the pantry and the dining table, to fill up their mugs with ale. Fortunately, some dwarfs saw fit to enjoy a cup of tea in between mugfuls. And of course, they went to grab anything left over in the pantry that looked good to them. Link - much like Gandalf - was taking tally of how many dwarfs there were, and seeing if he could match each dwarf's face to his name.
"Let's see; Ori - the youngest brother of Nori and Dori; that's easy enough. Oin - the hard of hearing one," Link wasn't wrong as since he'd arrived, he noticed that Oin needed a earn-horn to aid in his hearing. He passed through the group, keeping an eye on each dwarf. "-Brother to Gloin - the banker," he said as a red-headed dwarf walked past. He could tell Gloin was a banker, due to the jingling of coins sounding off from the various purses he kept under his cloak. He spotted another dwarf, one wearing a large hat.
"Bofur, brother of Bombur the...the fat one," Link said. He wasn't wrong about that either; Bombur was fat, and there was little else to be said about it. In fact, when Link spotted him at the dinner table, he saw that he was effectively grabbing up huge slices from the cheese blocks. "Uh, a little excessive there. Just want to make sure everyone gets some." But he let this go, as the other guests were having a good time enough as it was. "And who is left, there is," as Link was musing, he suddenly and accidentally backed into Gandalf.
Link turned and saw that Gandalf was much doing the same, trying to keep track of the dwarfs. They smiled and chuckled at each other, when suddenly a Dwarf with dark hair came up to them. This one had a particular piece of a blade stuck in his head; it looked rather uncomfortable. But the Dwarf didn't complain, as far as Link could tell, as he began speaking in some language that was unknown to Link, before slapping the side of his arm. Gandalf seemed to understand perfectly fine.
"- Cousins of Bifur...the one who can't speak common tongue," Link said. He looked up at Gandalf. "Well I'm sure you've taken notice of it yourself? There are only twelve of them here." Link sounded somewhat upset, as he would've preferred that the final guest had a chance to arrive before the others began eating. But he was so excited at seeing them all, that he assumed the final dwarf would be in the pile.
"Yes...it's just as Bifur put it; we are one dwarf short," Gandalf said.
"He's late, is all," Dwalin said passing by with a mug of ale. "He traveled north, to a meeting of our kin; he will come."
"Well that's good," Link said. "We'll be sure to set something aside for him."
"You seem rather pleased with yourself," Gandalf said looking down at Link.
"And why shouldn't I be?" Link asked, suddenly motioning toward the Pantry. It was absolutely empty; everything had been pillaged by the dwarfs. "I finally emptied my stores, and it was very easy." Link went over to the wine rack and pulled a bottle of red wine. "Care for a glass, Mr. Gandalf?"
"Oh lovely," Gandalf said.
"I was rather disappointed to find nothing but small glasses when I got the house from our gracious Mr. Baggins," Link said. "But I do occasionally provide my own." Link suddenly reached into his satchel and produced two wine glasses and poured some wine for himself and Gandalf. He passed the glass to the Wizard and clinked them together. "I'd say to a successful dinner party."
"My dear boy, you did fabulously," Gandalf said before taking a sip of wine.
"Come," he said motioning toward the two empty chairs near the end of the table. "Let's get in there while we still can."
The dinner with the dwarfs was a raucous one. Link of course didn't mind; he was used to having wild parties with laughter and cheering. Each of the dwarfs hands flew from one place to the next, finding something that fit their liking. Mugs of ale were clinked together in uproarious cheers. Bofur took up a piece of pork and threw it across the table right into his brother Bombur's mouth, who caught it with gusto. The dwarfs cheered for the catch, Link himself even joining in the revelry, almost like he'd been playing these games with the dwarfs all his life.
Dwalin took his ale and poured it into Oin's ear trumpet, causing great laughter from the other dwarfs. Oin took his trumpet and blew into it, sending the ale spraying outward. After the cheers the dwarfs all clanked their mugs together and drank. When they were done, they all cheered.
"Well I'd say they're quite the merry-bunch," Link said to Gandalf. "But I thought you said they would be discussing a quest they were undertaking."
"All in due time, my dear boy," Gandalf said. "We need to wait for our last guest to arrive before that can begin."
"Ah yes, that reminds me," Link immediately stood up and grabbed an empty plate. He immediately passed all around the table, grabbing up whatever was left from the banquet for the final guest; fortunately he managed to grab some salted pork, a few sausages and some bread. He hoped the final guest wouldn't mind such a meager offering.
He took the plate off to the kitchen to cover it with a cloth and leave it close to the fire to keep it warm. At that point, Ori followed him into the kitchen and politely asked, "Excuse me, sorry to interrupt; but what should I do with my plate?"
Before Link could turn and take it from him, the plate was suddenly taken from Ori by Fili.
"Here you go Ori, give it to me," he said. Suddenly Fili threw it across the room. Link was about to reach out for it when it sailed rather perfectly into the waiting hands of Kili. Who then threw the plate into the waiting hands of Bifur who was standing by the sink.
"Whoa, I'm all for games, lads; but don't you think that's a tad dangerous?" Link asked. "I mean, they are nice plates after all. First time I've ever owned them myself."
But Link was ignored as more plates flew one by one into Fili's hands, who then threw them to Kili, and then to Bifur, who was washing and stacking them now. Link had to admire the precision they displayed. Their reflexes were incredible. Fili was even bouncing a bowl on his elbows before tossing it to Kili, who lightly tapped it into the kitchen with the side of his foot.
Link was certain at any moment that the dishes would break. Then he heard a clinking sound, and saw the four dwarfs still seated at the table now rhythmically clanging the knives and forks together while tapping their feet.
"Uh, I think that will blunt those wares, fellows," Link said.
"You hear that lads?" Bifur asked. "He says we'll blunt the knives."
Then suddenly the dwarfs began singing.
Blunt the Knives, Bend the Forks ~
Smash the Bottles and Burn the Corks ~
Chip the Glasses and Crack the Plates~
That's what The Hylian Hates~
Cut the cloth, tread on the fat ~
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat ~
Pour the milk on the pantry floor ~
Splash the wine on every door! ~
Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl ~
Pound them up with a thumping pole ~
When you're finished, if they are whole ~
Send them down the hall to roll ~
That's what The Hylian Hates ~
When the Dwarfs were done singing, Link arrived in the kitchen to find all of the dishes cleaned and neatly stacked in an organized pile, and not a single one of them was damaged. The dwarfs and Gandalf laughed merrily, seeing his dumbfounded look. Link was absolutely speechless. He'd never before seen such skill. He was about to applaud the Dwarfs at their entertaining display, when there suddenly came three heavy knocks at the door, and the congregation grew silent.
"He is here," Gandalf said.
Gandalf accompanied Link as the front door was opened. There stood a thirteenth dwarf, wearing a blue hood. Link couldn't at first recognize this man as a Dwarf due to his more classically handsome features, similar to Fili and Kili. He looked up at Gandalf without paying much heed to Link.
"Gandalf," he said with a smile. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find; I lost my way twice. I'd have never found it at all, if it weren't for that mark on the door."
"Well then it was a good idea that you put it there," Link said to Gandalf before turning to the new guest. "May I take your cloak?"
The dwarf however didn't hand off his coat to Link, and instead passed it to Kili. Seeing them together, Link could spot some resemblance. The new Dwarf now stared up at Link. He was definitely tall for a dwarf, almost coming up to Link's shoulders. Gandalf could sense the growing awkwardness in the air.
"Link, allow me to introduce the leader of our company," he said gesturing to the newly arrived guest. "Thorin Oakenshield."
"So...this is the fabled Hylian?" Thorin asked looking up at Link. "Seems a bit young..." Thorin then walked around Link, as if assessing him from all sides. "Tell me, Mr. Link; have you done much fighting?"
"Plenty; I've won my share of scars," Link said. Link was now getting somewhat confused, but he began to deduce Gandalf's true purpose here.
"Axe or sword; what's your weapon of choice?" Thorin asked.
"Sword; although I am skilled with both," Link said with a smile. "But I fail to see why that's relevant; I have long since retired from combat."
"Retired? I am over 150 years old, and not even I am retired yet," Thorin said with a rather pompous look. "You look more like a scholar than a burglar."
"Burglar?" Link asked. He gave Gandalf a curious look, which the Wizard immediately deflected.
Thorin was seated at the end of the table, where Link passed him the plate he had set aside earlier. The dwarfs lined the table and were anxious to hear from their leader. Thorin was quiet for a few moments as he ate. Finally Balin spoke to him.
"Did they all come?" he asked.
"Aye, envoys from all seven kingdoms," Thorin said.
"And what did the Dwarfs from the Iron Hills say? Is Dane with us?" Dwalin asked.
Thorin sat a moment before taking a drink of ale. "They will not come," he said. "They say this quest is ours and ours alone."
That brought up dejected sighs from each of the dwarfs at the table.
"What is this quest you and your company are to undertake?" Link asked. He was most excited to finally hear them speak of it.
"Oh Link, my dear fellow. Let us have a little more light," Gandalf said. Link moved off out of the dining room to get more candles. When he came back, he saw that Gandalf had unfolded a small map from his pocket and laid it on the table. "Far to the East, beyond ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single, solitary peak." Gandalf pointed to the map, an image of a single mountain.
Link stood over Thorin's shoulder as they both read the map.
"The Lonely Mountain?" Link asked.
"Aye," Gloin spoke up. "Oin has read the Portents and the Portents say that it is Time."
"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain," Oin continued. "As it was foretold; when the birds of Yore return to Erebor, the Reign of the Beast will end."
The words caught Link's attention. "Beast?"
"That would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, Chiefest and Greatest Calamity of our Age," Bofur said. "Airborne Fire-breather, teeth like razors, extremely fond of precious metals."
"Ah...a Dragon," Link said, now bringing a hand to his chin.
"I'm not afraid," Ori said standing up. "I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of dwarfish iron right up his jacksey!"
His words brought cheers from most of the other Dwarfs. But his older brother, Dori pulled him back down into his seat.
"The task would be difficult with an army behind us," Balin began. "We number just thirteen...and not thirteen of the best nor brightest."
"We may be few in number, but we're fighters!" Fili said. "All of us, to the Last Dwarf!"
"And do you forget that we have a Wizard in our company?" Kili said referring to Gandalf. "Gandalf will have killed hundreds of Dragons in his time."
"Oh well uh...I don't," Gandalf began to speak. Suddenly all of the Dwarfs were asking Gandalf to state the number of Dragons he had killed. But Gandalf merely began to cough on his pipe smoke. Soon the entire congregation of Dwarfs erupt into fighting. Link stood back and watched. He didn't really peg most but a few of the Dwarfs as actual fighters. And Gandalf's reluctance to answer the question bothered him. This arguing continued until it was finally silenced by Thorin.
"ENOUGH!" he shouted, causing all Dwarfs to sit as down. "If we have not read these signs, do you think others will not have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The Dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes turn to the mountain, assessing...wondering...weighing the risk...Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected; do we sit back and watch as others claim what is rightfully ours?! Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?!"
The Dwarfs cheered Thorin's words, save for Balin.
"You forget, the front-gate is sealed; there is no other way into the mountain," he said.
"That my dear Balin, is not entirely true," Gandalf said producing a key from his robes.
"How came you by this?" Thorin asked.
"It was given to me by your father, by Thrain, for safekeeping. It is yours now," Gandalf said passing the key to Thorin.
"If there is a key...there must be a door," Fili said.
Gandalf nodded and pointed to the map. "These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls."
"There's another way in," Kili said with a smile.
"If we can find it," Gandalf said. "But Secret Dwarf Doors are Invisible when closed. The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map and I do not have the skill to find it, but there are others in Middle Earth who can."
Before Gandalf could continue, Link suddenly leaned over the table, now sporting what looked like a purple magnifying glass that glowed red on one side and blue on the other. A distinctive magical chime was heard from the device as Link looked through the lens at the Map.
"Gandalf is right," Link said.
"What? You can see the runes?" Balin asked.
"Somewhat," Link said. "The runes are there, but it's strange; it's like the ink has faded. Besides, I can't make out what they were saying."
"Which is why we will need to find someone who can," Gandalf said. "The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage; but if we are careful, and clever, I believe that it can be done."
"That's why we need a Burglar," Ori said again.
"Right, I trust you'd need an expert at that, to sneak up on a Dragon," Link said putting the mysterious lens away.
"And are you?" Balin asked in return.
"Am I a what?" Link asked.
"He said he's an expert!" Oin cheered.
Link looked at Gandalf. "This was your plan the entire time?" Link asked. "You had me host this dinner party to sucker me into joining this quest?"
"I felt it was a necessary gambit to take," Gandalf said. "You certainly boasted your skills earlier this afternoon."
"But what still remains to be seen is if you are a burglar or not," Dwalin said, sneering at Link.
"Hmm...don't believe I've ever tried burglary before, but..." Link then smiled and looked down the table. "Mr. Gloin; you are the company's banker, correct?"
"Aye?!" Gloin asked.
"You entered this home carrying three purses of gold coins on your person, have you not? And you had them all throughout dinner?" Link asked.
"Aye, what are you getting at, Lad?" Gloin asked.
"How many coin purses have you on your person now?" Link asked.
Gloin rather begrudgingly checked his coat and patted for the three purses, but found there were only two. "What are you playing at?!" he asked, suddenly sounding fierce.
Link uncrossed his arms, revealing the missing coin purse, he had tucked away under his elbow. He tossed it back to Gloin. "Sorry; wasn't at all sincere," Link said. "But when Mr. Thorin mentioned a Burglar to me at the door, I felt a demonstration would need to be in order. I can be very sneaky and crafty if I want to. I've raided dungeons for their treasure long before this...I'm certain I could pull off whatever heist you need me for."
"Excellent skills, my boy," Gandalf said admiring Link's cheek. "And while the Dragon is accustomed to the smell of Dwarfs, the scent of...whatever Link is, will be completely unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage."
"Hylian," Link said under his breath.
"You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company," Gandalf said to Thorin. "And I have chosen Mr. Link. I can sense it; there is a lot more to him than appearance would suggest."
"Fourteenth member?" Link asked. "I'm a bit curious as to why you feel you would need such a large party to slay a dragon."
"It's a bit of a standing tradition," Gandalf said. "Dwarfs are a very superstitious lot and they feel the number thirteen is an unlucky number; so they need to add one last member to their company."
"Wouldn't that be you?" Link asked Gandalf. Gandalf merely coughed and grumbled quietly.
"If you could see Smaug, you would know why simply having fourteen will still not make this an easy task," Thorin said to Link. "With your callous attitude, I would doubt you would survive a moment against a dragon such as he."
Link smiled before saying, "Well truth be told, I am a bit disappointed. When I suspected that Gandalf came to me looking for a new recruit, and your lot mentioning the hunting of a dragon...well...I had assumed that you were recruiting me for my...other talents."
Link suddenly pointed directly upward toward the ceiling of the dining room. The dwarfs followed his finger and looked up. Gandalf followed suit and was surprised at what he saw, as were the Dwarfs. Hanging above them was a dragon's skull, mounted on a plaque about five feet long.
"That did not belong to Mr. Baggins," Gandalf said. He was surprised that none of them had noticed it, and that he himself had not bumped his head against it.
"That is but one dragon that I have tangled with in the past. I have taken many similar trophies to that one," Link said. "In my adventures, I've become quite adept at slaying Dragons...Wizard or not, Burglar or not...If I was to join your company...All you'd need is get me to that Dragon, to this Smaug of yours...And I would do the rest."
Each of the dwarfs stood awestruck and impressed with Link. That is before Thorin sneered again.
"A bit on the small-side," he said referring to the skull.
"Well, they do come in all shapes and sizes," Link said. "That was just the one I could get into the house. Trust me when I say, Thorin Oakenshield; from what I have seen of your company, this quest would be lost without me."
Thorin sneered at Link. But even he could not deny it. "Alright, you're in; give him the contract."
"Well hold on, Gents," Link said. "While I am rather excited about this; I never said I would join. After all, I am still retired."
But it was clear that the dwarfs had not heeded him; they were too busy excitedly conversing over what they'd just learned. Balin stood up and revealed a folded parchment that Link took to assume was the contract.
"It's just the usual summary of out of pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth," Balin said handing him the contract.
"Lovely," Link said taking the contract. "If I could just have some moments to read this." Link unfolded the many panels of the contract and went over them all with that peculiar lens of his. In fact, he was searching for loopholes or hidden tricks the Dwarfs might play on him. But he was soon to find none.
Thorin meanwhile leaned in close to Gandalf.
"I cannot guarantee his safety," he whispered.
"Understood, but I doubt you would have to," Gandalf said.
"Nor will I be responsible for his fate," Thorin said.
"Agreed," Gandalf said.
"Terms: Cash on delivery," Link quickly read out loud but under a hushed tone. "Up to but not exceeding one fourteenth of total profit, if any. Seems fair. Eh, Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof including but not limited to lacerations ... evisceration ... incineration." Link gave a smile at that.
"Oh, aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye," Bofur said. Link scoffed at that. "Think Furnace with wings; Flash of light, searing pain, then Poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash."
"Pile...of ash," Link quietly mused to himself. He was milling it over that he was still retired; and if not, he was indeed on holiday. But he couldn't deny that all of this seemed exciting. But that last comment; pile of ash; made him quietly contemplate something else. He looked up from the contract before quickly folding it shut. He turned to the company of Dwarfs. "We've got a lot of work to do," he said. He moved back toward the front door. "Come with me, quickly."
The Dwarfs, rather caught off guard by this sudden excitement poured out of the dining hall and followed him. They found him by the front door where he'd hung up their weapons. "Take up your weapons, as quickly as you can."
"We certainly cannot disembark tonight lad; we would still need a night's rest before setting off," Balin said.
"No, we're not setting off right now; we're not ready yet," Link said. He began passing each weapon back to their respective owners. "Here you are; Fili, Kili, these will need a proper sharpening. Now follow me, please."
Link suddenly led them all to the back of the house where he suddenly removed a decorative rug, revealing a cellar-door. He opened it up to reveal a ladder going down into a chamber with orange light. He began climbing down and looked up to all of the Dwarfs. "One by one, as quick as you can."
Gandalf was fourth to descend the staircase after Thorin, Dwalin and Balin. He was most surprised to see that here at the bottom, he did not need to crouch or bend to avoid any ceiling. He could stand at full height. This crawl-space led into an opening in the side of the hill behind Bag End. The brilliant orange light came from a molten forge. There were sharpening wheels stationed nearby, and various tools and weapons hung from the walls on display.
"This certainly was not here when Bilbo owned the house," Gandalf said.
"Yes; when I acquired the house, I had some renovations done, all myself, so that I could indulge my hobbies," Link said. The opening in the hill led out into the night sky to prevent anyone from becoming exhausted from the heat. And above the forge was a chimney that carried the smoke up and out. Link had already begun smelting some strange silvery-metal over the flames. "Master Dwalin," Link said turning toward him. "Hand me your axe."
"What is this all about?" Dwalin said examining Link curiously.
"Dragons are invulnerable to most forms of magic," Link said. "However they can still be felled by weapons blessed with magic. So I am giving us a tactical advantage. I'm going to imbibe your arms with enchantments."
Dwalin looked over to Thorin nervous about whether or not to proceed. Thorin rather cautiously nodded to him. Dwalin obeyed and handed over his axe to Link. Link brought the axe over the anvil. He lifted a small cup of the molten metal up over the anvil and cautiously poured a line directly over the blade. Then on the broad side of the axe, he drizzled a tiny stream of the metal into some of the strange letters Gandalf had observed from his original sign - it must've been written in his native Hylian. Link then took the axe and held it by its shaft and lifted the end of the handle, dipping it lightly into the molten silver, only long enough to leave a slight dab at the tip.
The molten metal was quick to cool and harden. And Link returned the cup to the forge, to keep it heated. Link then took the axe over to the sharpening wheel and sat down at the stool. Pressing his foot to the pedal to keep the wheel spinning, Link began sharpening the silver metal across the axe, to where it would smoothly appear against the blade of the axe, and not stand-out so much, not to weigh it down. Link then lifted up the handle and took a small knife, where he carved other Hylian runes into the handle before covering the handle again with leather. He did all of this so quickly, the dwarfs were left aghast at his speed and talent. He then returned to Dwalin.
"Alright, Mr. Dwalin," Link said handing the axe to him. "I want you to take your axe, and with all of your strength, I want you to throw it -" Link then pointed down the hill to a nearby field, where a scarecrow stood watch over the crops found there. "-At that target."
"Step aside lad," Dwalin said, eager to meet the challenge. With a strong grunt and a swift throw, the axe sailed through the air and struck the scarecrow in the chest. The other dwarfs cheered at Dwalin's skill. Dwalin looked up at Link rather pleased with himself, as if he'd proven something.
"Alright Dwalin," Link said. "Now what I want you to do...is focus on the axe...and call it back to you."
"What?" Dwalin asked. "Are you daft, Lad? You want me to call me axe? Alright; here axe, c'mon; here boy!" And Dwalin began clicking his tongue and whistling as if he were calling a dog.
"I don't mean with your voice, Dwalin," Link said. "I mean, I want you to focus as hard as you can on the Axe's handle...Think about how much you want the axe to come back to you; how much you need it to...And then...just will the axe to return to you, and it shall."
The other Dwarfs, Dwalin and Thorin included scoffed at this. But Gandalf paid close attention to what Link was up to. Dwalin sneered at Link and decided that this was somehow a test to see if Dwalin could even think. So he decided to play Link's game and take the challenge. He focused on the Axe, thinking about all the times having it saved his life, and how much he needed it to return to him. And before long, Dwalin was focused on the fact that whenever he was in combat, it was this axe that brought him success. He'd imagined what it would've been like without it. Would he be dead now? He couldn't allow that to happen; he needed the Axe!
Suddenly the axe twitched, pulling the scarecrow's frame with it. Before long, the blade wrenched free of the wooden pole that held the scarecrow upright. It suddenly flew to the air back toward the forge, strait into Dwalin's waiting hand, with a "whoosh". Dwalin held the axe and his jaw dropped. The other dwarfs were startled upon seeing this, before they began to laugh and cheer. Link stood there looking proud as each of the Dwarfs rushed toward him, begging that their weapons receive similar enchantments.
"Yes, yes; each one of you will have your wares enchanted," Link said. "But first there will be other matters to attend to. No need to rush it; we've got all night." Link moved across the forge, wading through the sea of expecting Dwarfs and found a long-sword he'd mounted on the wall. He took it down. "Mister Gandalf; I should think this would be about your size."
"Thank you," Gandalf said taking it. He unsheathed the blade and looked at it. It was hardly remarkable, but it would service him should they be attacked.
"Now, my good Dwarfs," Link said. "I would like you all to form a line, starting here; we've got a lot of work to do, and I'll need you all to help me do it." Link stood by a chest at the far side of the room, and the Dwarfs all formed a line, each rather anxious to get to the front, but the spot was taken by Balin, who looked a bit nervous. Link opened up the chest and began going through it. Inside there was a roll of red-cloth on a metal hoop attached to the top of the chest. Link looked down and found a tunic, much like his own, only made from the same red cloth. He also found a long string with knots tied in notches along its length; one for every inch. "Are any of you seamsters? Any tailors amongst you?"
"Well some of us are quite adept at making our own clothes, yes," Balin said.
"Excellent; I will need your help tonight; I can't do it alone," Link said. He suddenly grabbed the roll of red cloth and began pulling on it, unraveling it. He then went to Balin. He asked that Balin raise his arms directly out to either side and to spread his legs one foot apart. Balin did as he was asked, and Link began running the string over Balin's shoulders, then down his side, and then around his belly.
"What is the meaning of all of this?!" Thorin asked from the back of the group, looking very annoyed. "We came to you for a Burglar; not for you to make us matching uniforms!" - with that, Dwalin, Fili and Kili gave a laugh.
Link didn't look amused by the comment, but he wasn't annoyed. In truth, he'd been waiting for it. He took his knife and cut some fabric loose from the end of the role, and then split it in two. He crumpled up one of the halves and moved across the chamber back toward the forge.
"Observe, Master Thorin," Link said as he so nonchalantly threw the red cloth onto the burning coals. The Dwarfs flinched and watched the cloth, expecting it to burst into an open flame at any moment...And yet, no such flames came; no smoldering ember so much as licked the fabric. Link in the meantime was taking the other half and wrapping it around his hand. He reached that hand into the forge and grabbed the crumpled piece of cloth. When Link had it out, he unrolled them both and flapped them in the air, to show that no burn marks, and not even black ash had so much as touched the fabric. He then tossed it to Thorin, with hastily tried to avoid catching it, only for it to land on his arm. It was cool to touch. Thorin ran his hands over it, completely bewildered.
"Now, observe this," Link said, taking up the red colored tunic and slipping it on on top of his green one. Link then reached into the forge again, and with his bare hands, he plucked a burning coal from the embers. The dwarfs flinched seeing this, expecting at any moment to hear Link howl in pain; but no such discomfort came. Link simply held the coal in one hand and made no notice that it was even there. He stared at the dwarfs, assessing their reactions as they stared at the burning coal. Link then tossed the coal into his other hand, and passed it back and forth between them before depositing it back into the forge. He then presented his hands; no blemish or burn, not even a trail of soot or ash. He was completely unscathed.
Link held up the remaining piece of Red Cloth. "This is Fire Fabric," he said. "Forged by the Gorons of Death Mountain; the hard mountain folk who live in an active volcano. They have grown used to the heat, but it hardly makes for a welcome place for visitors. So they spun this cloth together to make Goron Tunics, for their visitors to wear. It will stand against any fire, and protect you while you wear it. Even the parts of your body left-uncovered will not know fire's sting. You will remain cool-to-touch. You wear just a small portion of this, and you could walk on lava, and not feel a thing. Dragon Fire is not a match for it..."
The thirteen Dwarfs and even Gandalf stood there impressed by everything Link had said and demonstrated. Thorin was left dumbfounded as he stood there, holding the piece Link had tossed him.
"What say you, Master Dwarf?" Link asked.
"...Do they come in Dwarf-Sizes?" Thorin asked.
"They certainly can," Link said with a grin.
"We'll take Thirteen of 'em!" Ori said excitedly. And all of the Dwarfs cheered at seeing this.
"Right - so you will all line-up," Link said. "I'll take your measurements."
It was a few hours later. Link had written down each measure of the dwarfs he could take. He passed the paper along to the dwarfs who claimed to be tailors. They began cutting the cloth in Link's stores to make into acceptable tunics. Those who got their tunics first were putting them on underneath their usual armor; just so that the red tufts of the sleeves stood out from underneath them.
Link offered to make a red cloak for Gandalf. But the Wizard refused, claiming that he would more or less be fine with how he was now. Link didn't quite understand, but he did take notice of a peculiar ring with a red jewel on Gandalf's left hand. He sensed there was something about that Ring that implied Gandalf could protect himself.
The Dwarfs moved about the forge, trying to grow accustomed to their new clothing. As they did, some of the now finished Dwarfs were admiring Link's collection of weapons displayed across the walls of the forge. Dori soon spotted one particular sword hanging on the wall.
"By my beard," Dori said. The other dwarfs eventually gave their attention to it, as did Gandalf. They began to gather about it. "That is a magnificent blade." The sword itself had a long white blade that glowed with some unnatural light to it. The blade attached to the hilt, where a yellow jewel reached toward it. The hilt itself was a majestic blue color, that formed into the shape of eagle's wings. The group could sense the power radiating from the weapon.
"This is unlike any sword I have ever seen," Gandalf said. "Mere mortals could not have crafted it."
"Well you're not wrong," Link said finally approaching the group. One of the dwarfs tried to reach out and touch the blade, only to find an invisible barrier, rippling like a bubble, held his hand at bay. "Oh, mustn't touch," Link said. "I've enchanted most of these weapons so that no one can remove them from these walls but I."
"How came you by this weapon?" Gandalf said. "It seems of extraordinary importance."
"That is is, Sir Wizard," Link said. "This is The Master Sword, the Blade of Evil's Bane. It was forged by the Gods themselves, said to be fashioned from the teeth of a massive Blue Lion. The sword itself is imbibed with the power to destroy any evil that touches it, and can only be held by those with a benevolent mind. And its power can only be wielded by the destined hero; the one it waits for, to free it from its deep slumber."
"And who would this hero happen to be?" Balin asked taking his eyes from the spectacular blade.
"Well," Link said with a smile. He lifted his left hand toward the Master Sword, when it suddenly twitched before flying off the wall, directly into his grasp. The dwarfs awed at seeing this as Link stood over them with the sword. Suddenly the blade glowed brighter in his hands, that the Dwarfs could swear the blade itself was a star. "He has been my friend for many years now."
The Dwarfs and Gandalf were quite impressed with Link at this moment. But Thorin on the meanwhile had hung at the far back of the group, sneering at him.
Link had gone back to enchanting all of the other Dwarf's weapons. He was surprised that so many of them hadn't arrived with Swords, but rather with knives, and other smaller weapons. But still, any help was better than no help. He took notice of how begrudgingly Thorin handed over his own sword so that Link could do his smithing. But Link quietly went about his work, as he was busy sharpening Fili's sword.
Thorin stood close to Balin from the far side of the forge while Link worked. The other Dwarfs milled about their business; either sewing together new tunics for them to wear, or testing out their new enchanted weapons. Balin looked at Link's back with a smile.
"Well, it seems that we've found more than just an exceptional Burglar," he said.
"I don't like this fellow," Thorin said. "I don't trust him. It's far too beyond us to include such a strange outsider to join this company. Much less one who knows so much and yet so little."
"I think we would be fools not to include him," Balin said. "It's for the best. The odds were always against us. After all, what are we? Merchants, miners, tinkers, toy makers; hardly the stuff of legend."
"There are a few warriors amongst us," Thorin said with the first warm smile he'd worn all night.
"Old warriors," Balin replied.
"I will take each and every one of these dwarfs over an army from the Iron Hills. For when I called upon them, they came. Loyalty. Honor. A willing heart. I can ask no more than that."
"You don't have to do this," Balin pleaded. "You have a choice. You've done honorably by our people. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains, a life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor."
Thorin said nothing at first. Instead, he revealed the key Gandalf had given to him. He spoke again to Balin.
"From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me. They dreamt of the day when the dwarfs of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin. Not for me."
Balin sat and thought for a moment. He nodded. "Then we are with you, laddie. We will see it done."
The two slapped arms together and nodded.
The congregation of Dwarfs came together and watched as Link continued to work. He was so diligent and determined in his craft; the Dwarfs had partly begun to feel guilty that their part in this was done. There was hardly any noise coming from anyone or anything, save for the sharpening wheel. During this interlude, the Dwarfs had each lit up their pipes and began to smoke, Gandalf joining them. The entire group was bored and restless as they watched Link work.
Finally Bofur revealed a flute from his jacket and began to play a tune. It wasn't long before Dori and Nori joined him. The tune was soft, and it somewhat made the entire group feel more relaxed. And it wasn't long before the dwarfs - Thorin included began humming along to the tune with their deep dwarfish voices. And then, much to the shock of Link, Thorin began the group singing. The song was soft and relaxing, but was also very eerie. Link could tell there was much the song was saying.
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 ~
The Pines were roaring on the height ~
The Winds were mourning in the night ~
The Fire was red, it flaming spread ~
The Trees like torches blazed with light ~