When I was five years old, I traveled with my uncle, Balin to visit a hobbit. Everyone, who I grew to see as family, applaud this particular hobbit. Especially our King, he says to my brothers and I this particular hobbit helped regain Erebor. He helped my mother when my father and the rest of the company lost sight about their 15th member of the company. My mother always added to the conversations, if she was there that is, she only did what she needed to do. Both my parents, or anyone for that matter, never spoke about the hatred for elves that flows through dwarves. I can see it in the older generation of dwarves towards my mother, my brothers and I. Sometimes the older dwarves forget Daemon is half elf and treat him like one of their own. I am not blind and could see it has to do with his features. He looks like a silver haired version of our father. Both of my brothers were able to grow beards when they hit of age. Sure it is sparse, for now they claim, but its a beard none-the-less. I am not sure if I am fortunate or unfortunate of my lack of beard. My face is as smooth as a babe's bottom. I am a little more stockier than an average elf but I look like my mother if she were to have my father's eyes and hair. I am as strong as a dwarf and can fight like one.
I was only nine years old when I gave Barric a black eye. He wouldn't let me play with him and the others due to my gender. I proved him wrong. My father was proud of me when he came back on his walk with my mother. He took me to the training arena, without mam knowing that is, and we fought against each other with training wood swords. It was thrilling. I had to ask him why there wasn't any wooden versions of other weapons. He explained swords are the basic weapon. He had to learn the sword from his older brother and the king. Since I was 'old enough', my father and cousins taught me how to fight. When my mother could get away from the twins, she would teach me a little bit her style. Of course, she would have my father and cousins try to wrangle my brothers. My brothers, I love them I really do, however they were little dragons when they were younger. Now they've matured to an extent. My parents were relieved when they grew out of their dragon stage. Halvor decided he wanted to learn what our father does. Daemon, on the other hand, wanted to travel with our mother to and from Lothlorien to speak about matters. I am really happy for my brothers for learning what they would like to do when they are older. I am quite the opposite. I do not want to be strapped down to a position on the royal court or become an ambassador. I am not sure what I want to do. I have not figured it out just yet.
"Kallan! Hurry up!"
I looked up from horse's saddle. My twin brothers, along with the King and princes, were ahead walking on the path leading to Hobbiton. The king of Erebor would not miss his old friend's birthday. I felt a lithe hand tap my knee. My mother's soft voice reached my ears, "Are you okay gnwnig? You seem to be in thought."
I nodded sliding off of my horse's saddle. I looked around seeing my father was already up the path with the others. I answered, "I was thinking about what I would like to do in the future."
I watched my mother's lips turn into a smile. Her finger tapped the end of my nose lightly, "Do not worry about that, Kallan. You will be fine. Remember I've seen it."
She hitched my horse to the hitching post with the others. I nearly forgot my mother is a see-er. I wonder if my brothers or I would inherit her powers. I would think at my age of being 58 I would show some king of sign. My brothers are still young at 48 years old. However considering we have elvish blood, we age differently than a dwarf. No one knew how we were to age, mature or learn with our mixed heritage. My mother held out a hooked arm, "Shall we go see Master Baggins?"
A smile lifted my face. I hooked my arm with hers. We caught up with the little group. The others from the original company could not make it due to their own personal business. They did wish the little hobbit a merry birthday through letters and gifts. I called out to my brothers, "Daemon, Halvor! You do not know where the hobbit lives."
Halvor placed his arm around Kili's neck, "Yes but they have."
I nearly rolled my eyes. My mother's words got everyone's attention, "I do not think I have been to Bilbo's home."
Fili nodded in agreement as he thought back when the company arrived to the hobbit's hobbit hole, "No you were not. We met with you in Rivendel."
Thorin commented, "You were against joining the quest to Erebor."
My mother corrected the king, "If I recall right you were also against me joining the company. If it weren't for Gandalf's meddling, I wouldn't have been on the quest and..."
My brothers and I could feel the air grow solemn after our mother's words died on her tongue. Luckily the silence ended when we arrived to the gate of Bilbo Baggins. One the gate was a sign posted, "No Admittance. Except on Party Business."
I felt my mother adjust her shoulder. The very shoulder that is branded. My father caught the movement and decided to switch places with me. Now my parents are hooked in arms. My brothers and I do not know the story behind the scar. Our parents made sure of it. Thorin walked up the little path to the hobbit's home and ringed the bell. An elderly voice called out, "No Thank you! We don't want any more visitors!"
Thorin's deep voice ringed out, "Is that a way to greet an old friend, Mr. Baggins?"
The door immediately opened revealing an older hobbit. The older dwarves and elf greeted the hobbit with a hug. I noticed my mother winced when the hobbit accidentally touched her shoulder. Bilbo pulled away instantly in concern, "Are you alright?"
My mother tried to cover it up, "Oh yes. Sore muscle is all it is. How does it feel being 111 years old?"
I narrowed my eyes at my mother who changed the subject. Bilbo placed his hands in his waist coat pockets, "Never better, I suppose. How did you feel when you turned 111?"
My mother laughed, "I was born in the second age if that puts it to perspective."
Those who knew their history, the second age was not a walk in the park. It was dark and dangerous. Our grandmother taught of the history of the ages whenever we visited. I piped up, "What do you have planned for your birthday?"
Bilbo smiled big at my question, "Something big, my dear. I promise it'll be enjoyable."
Halvor and Daemon spoke at the same time, "Will there be a ton of food?"
Our father smacked the boys upside their heads. Both of them rubbed their heads in pain. Fili looked amused. He remembered when they were traveling with their uncle and Thorin would hit them upside the heads. The twins asked, "What was that for, adad?"
He scolded them, "All ye two think about is food."
Daemon nearly whined, "We are always hungry."
My mother mumbled, "Their appetite came from you, Dwalin."
Father huffed crossing his arms. Everyone chuckled. I had to ask, "Is Gandalf going to be at your party?"
Bilbo answered, "I am not quite sure. I was expecting the wizard last week but he has not arrived."
Kili rubbed his beard, everyone mentioned how thin his beard was when he was 77 years old but now it grew a few inches, "Maybe he is doing wizard business with his wizard friends."
I rolled my eyes elbowing Kili in the ribs, "I do not think that is what he is doing."
Bilbo asked my brothers and I, "Do you remember Frodo? I am sure he is around the Shire if you three want to go find him."
I have a subtle hint that means for the younger ones to leave so the adults can talk. I like to think we are adults but I guess among dwarves and elves we are still children. Halvor answered, "We can go find him for you if you want."
Bilbo nodded, "Ah yes. I want to make sure everything is prepared for tonight."
I moved between the elders to grab both of my brother's arms. I called out to the adults, "We shall be back."
I placed my hands behind my head. Hobbits scurried in the plaza to prepare for Bilbo's birthday. Halvor crossed his arms on the left of me. Daemon took interest on the hobbit's way of doing things on the right of me. I huffed, "Emel and Adar are acting weird."
Halvor answered, "Emel's shoulder is acting up."
I nodded, "I noticed it as well. They'll won't tell us what the cause is."
I glanced at Daemon who graciously accepted an apple tart from a friendly hobbit merchant. He started to stuff his face with it. I shook my head, "All I know is that in that quest 60 years ago to take back Erebor, something big happened."
Daemon spoke while licking his fingers away of the apple glaze, "It doesn't matter now. Everyone is well and happy. They were able to take back Erebor. Thorin became the rightful King and Adad is the chief of guard. I'd say the quest was a success."
Halvor peered around me to look at his twin, "Did you not feel the air change when emel spoke about if she wasn't-?"
Daemon waved at little hobbit children who peered at us curiously. He answered, "Of course I did. An idiot would be stupid enough to not feel the change. Obviously knowing emel is a see-er, she saw things that could be detrimental to the current present day. Leave it be, emel joined the quest and therefore changed the outcome."
I blinked, "Aren't you curious on what the original outcome was?"
Daemon shrugged. Halvor rolled his eyes at his brother. In the distance, I saw a carriage rolling in with a familiar grey hat and a curly haired hobbit. I pointed in the direction, "I see Gandalf and Frodo. Let's meet with them."
