It was a dark, stormy night and the sensible folk of Middle Earth were safely sheltering in their homes with their fires built up and their shutters closed against the wind. To the south of Bree the main road had turned to mud and ran with rainwater, making any attempt at travel dangerous. Just out of sight of the town walls, a figure stood to the side of the road. The cloaked figure seemed unconcerned about the rain, standing perfectly still underneath a signpost that towered overhead. On the horizon, a traveler appeared, wading ankle deep in mud. The still figure watched silently until the traveler drew near.
"A fine night you have chosen for a reunion."
"It is you who refused to meet in the inn." The traveler retorted, his voice barely audible above the weather, before the two embraced in greeting. "Will you reconsider and allow an old man out of the wind and the rain?"
"Old man?" The other questioned, nudging the traveler's shoulder. "Aye, alright. The Prancing Pony's near enough." It took longer than usual to reach Bree and the welcome lights of the inn. Shutting the door behind them they observed the raucous common room, before finding a table with as much privacy as they could manage.
The traveler shrugged off his cloak revealing that he was, in fact, an old man. Drops of rain glistered in his beard and the front of his hair was plastered to his forehead where his hood had failed to protect him. He indicated to the bar maid, who produced two plates of bread and cheese and two mugs of ale. He sat down, murmuring gratefully and began to eat. A few seconds later he looked up.
"For Aules sake, Arhynn, sit down and take your cloak off." The other patron paused for a second and then sat, pulling the hood from her head, revealing wet red hair and grey eyes in a smooth, almost human looking face. Her hair fell forward to hide the graceful point of her ears. She looked around the pub suspiciously, and then regarded the drink in front of her.
"What was so important I had to travel half way across Middle Earth to meet with you tonight, Gandalf the Grey?" The words fell out of her mouth in Elvish and the old man answered in the like.
"An opportunity has presented itself. One that, when I heard it, made me think of you."
"What kind of opportunity?" The girl seemed uninterested in the old man's tale as she sniffed the ale.
"An opportunity to change the world." His eyes flashed mysteriously and there was a small smile on his lips through his beard. The elf lifted her eyes from the mug and raised an eyebrow. "An opportunity fraught with danger, with new friends and old and the chance to take home a pot of gold at the end."
'Speak plain wizard." The elf grumbled. "Why did you summon me here?"
"In about two hours someone will be arriving in Bree. A person of great interest to me. He will be here by my design and before he leaves I will meet with him. And when he leaves, his quest will begin."
"And his quest is?"
"This someone" Gandalf paused, taking a dramatically timed gulp of his ale. "Is called Thorin." There was half a breath of pause, during which Arhynn's eyes narrowed.
"Smaug."
"Ah, you see through me, my dear. As always." Gandalf smiled; delighted that she seemed to understand him. "Yes indeed."
"This is about Smaug?"
"Birds have returned to the mountain. The prophecy is being fulfilled as we sit here drinking ale." The elf's hands clenched. "This may be your only chance to reach him."
"And what part does Thorin Oakenshield play in your plan?"
"Erebor will need a leader once you have rid us of Smaug." Arhynn leaned back in her chair and folded her arms, watching Gandalf carefully.
"He's your excuse." She scolded. "Are we all just pawns to you wizards, that you can move around the great game board that you seem to think Middle Earth is? You want rid of the dragon and so you stir up passion and intent in the heir to a lost dwarrow kingdom and use him as an excuse to get to the mountain."
"I do truly want the best for Thorin." Gandalf argued. "If that means getting him his Kingdom back and uniting the seven dwarf families again, then that is what I will do. And if I just so happen to bring along someone with the ability to kill the dragon…" his eyes twinkled. "Thorin is the rightful heir to Erebor and is the one who will find us the way in."
"You know it isn't going to work, don't you?"
"Why not?" Gandalf looked a little affronted.
"Thorin is a dwarf. I am an elf. I don't believe there is a race on middle earth that Thorin Oakensheild hates more than elves."
"I'd say dragon's were quite high on the list." Gandalf chuckled. "Thorin will allow you to journey with us. I can be quite persuasive when I need to be."
"Well you're telling him the good news." She grumbled. "But you do know I could go myself, get there faster and probably kill less dwarfs."
"No." Gandalf shook his head. "We need Thorin Oakensheild for this quest. And a burglar.
"A burglar? What… the arkenstone." Arhynn nodded to herself. "Now I understand your eagerness. Retrieving the arkenstone will mean the six dwarrow families will have to honour their vow. They will have to rally to Durin's folk. You're readying an army/"
"There's a shadow growing beyond the forests of Thranduil. I cannot see it but I can feel it. We need to be prepared. We need to come together. Elrond will come, Gondor will answer but the dwarfs are too secretive and suspicious. They will only come to the one who wields the Arkenstone. We need that stone." Arhynn nodded once.
"Whose the burglar?" She asked the wizard, who grinned immediately.
"When was the last time you were in Hobbiton?"