Turas gun dùil
AN: This story is dedicated to PixieBix800 for the sheer number of plot bunnies they have gifted me. This is also all her idea.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of Middle Earth's Characters, places or languages. They all belong to J. . I have merely borrowed them to play with.
Song of the day – Shakira 'Las de la Intuición'.
Quote of the day "If movements were a spark every dancer would desire to light up in flames." -Shah Asad Rizvi.
Chapter One – Anns an toiseach.
Nori was tired. It had been one catastrophe after another and now he seemed to have been embroiled in a mad quest to take back a mountain from a dragon. Not just any mountain, but Erebor! The old Khazdul kingdom said to be impenetrable when its front gates were sealed. Nori still wasn't sure how he had ended up on such a suicidal trek, but he was sure it all started back when he was less wise and more likely to fall for a pretty pair of eyes. He sighed and readjusted his pack, absently reaching out a hand to stop his younger brother Ori from wandering off the beaten track again. They were going to die before they even reached the mountain. Ori from walking head first into danger as he was writing and himself from trying to stop it happening. He raised his eyes to the heavens, sending a half-hearted prayer that those he cared about would survive. He held little hope of an answer as the deities had long ago abandoned his people. Maybe the Aalven whose home they were heading to could stir some pity in their ancient hearts. If any could it would be one of the Yvanna al rukum. Nori smiled as he remembered his last meeting with one. Maybe, just maybe they might survive this fools venture.
Dwalin was grumbling to himself as he walked. A bad habit he knew, but it helped to pass the time. He was supposed to have travelled with his elder brother, the weaver and the two rascals, but he had an instinctive need to make sure they were not walking into danger. He knew little of the Aalven, only that they were smaller than Khazad and farmers. There must be more to their people though as they mainly went unmolested by the outside world. Aid had been sent one winter in his memory, but other than that they seemed to be unaffected. They had to be hiding something. The paths were well signposted, the roads neatly kept. There were no major structures, no defensive buildings. No high walls or sturdy gates. Invaders could walk right in. All in all, Dwalin was glad he had slipped away. He couldn't let the Durinaul walk into a trap.
Kilì was impressed at what he saw. They had been trailed since setting foot over the borders of this peaceful green land. The infrastructure was well kept, and the populace seemed to enjoy colour. Music had been brought to them on a breeze and the signposts aided their speed. It was a shame he hadn't managed to grab Skilami-Khuzi Dwalin to mention what he had noted, but then maybe it was best to send him ahead. If the Aavlen couldn't deal with Dwalin, he probably wouldn't cope on the quest. Smiling Kilì started to hum an old walking song. If Filì and Skilami al aglab Balin would stop talking he might have been tempted to let them know they were being observed by several of the aavlenau, but they were immersed in statecraft and that was a subject he would rather avoid.
Deep in the heart of the Shire, unaware of twelves dwarrow closing in on his home, the Hobbit Bilbo Baggins, The Baggins of Bag End and Neach-saoraidh de Hobbiton, decided to take his morning pipe of the bench at the edge of his private garden.
AN: Please let me know what you think. I always appreciate feedback.
I will be using Scottish Gaelic for the language of Hobbits. Khudzul for Dwarrow and Sindarin for Elves.
Translation.
(Gaelic – English)
Turas gun dùil – An unexpected journey.
Anns an toiseach-In the beginning.
Neach-saoraidh de Hobbiton-Healer of Hobbiton.
(Khudzul-English)
Khazdul – dwarven.
Aalven-halfling.
Yvanna al rukum-children of Yvanna.
Khazad-dwarves.
Durinaul-Durin's sons.
Skilami-Khuzi-Master warrior
Skilami al aglab – master of languages (diplomat)
Aalvenau- halflings