Well, I have been doing a deal of thinking, and have come to the conclusion that I am not a good writer, but cannot bear to give this up so soon. After all, the amount of blank pages in this book mock me when I try to write – the binding is stiff it tries to close itself, and I have realized that if I do battle with it long enough, the odds will even, and someday I will win when I can fill the last page. Thinking about it this was has filled me with the correct spirit, I imagine.
I was born at a time which was no doubt very interesting, and it is a pity that I cannot remember it, but nevertheless, nothing really of great import happened to me until I was 6 and my brother Kili came into the world. After that, my life had a purpose – to keep him alive from day to day. He has a great sense of mischief, and though I am ashamed to say how often I joined him in pranks, simply by the merit of being older I was required to be the one ensuring that we returned before nightfall, did not get caught by the authorities, and kept ourselves generally in one piece. Our clothing was a completely different matter – an incident comes to mind in which we left all of our garmentry on the banks of the river and went for a swim one warm day, only to find that some dwarrow women had destined our swimming spot to be their laundry spot and arrived with their baskets and their string, and began setting up a veritable camp around us. So there we were, bare as the day we were born, simply treading water in the middle of the stream, and hoping that they would turn their backs so that we could grab our clothing and run. At last one of them spotted us, and we were shrieked at, scolded, and nearly hauled from the water by our ears and sent scampering through the brush, our clothing flung after us.
My mother heard of it and we were given no supper that night, but Kili always kept a stock of emergency provisions beneath his bed, and so we did not go too hungry, although his collection of stale bread and nuts was not really what one would consider a delectable meal. Our emergency provision idea was effectively ended the year that Kili discovered that acorns made a good snack, and stowed a great deal of them with our collection beneath the bed, until we found that they were crawling with insects and our mother nearly had a fit. We were naughty lads, but such are most lads, it seems.
I cannot remember much about my father, except that he went away with Thorin, his wife's brother, one day in the spring, and never returned. I used to be able to picture his face – I was told that his hair and beard were light, as mine, but I cannot claim that my memory is accurate. I always imagine him to look like Thorin, only fairer. But I cannot say.
Thorin returned from battle, along with Dwalin, Balin, and many of the others, bearing scars and tales of horrendous odds – we were forbidden by my uncle to speak my father's name henceforth from that day. My mother, Dis, agreed, and as such, all has faded from my young mind. I used to hate Thorin for doing this to me, but then I simply realized that he loved my father as I love Kili, and to speak of him would be doing harm. He is the sort that will mourn forever, I feel.
Thorin trained Kili and me in the arts of war from a very young age, partially because we ought to know it, and partially because he was determined that I never forget who I was. I was someday to inherit his lost kingdom, and must be ready. I began to take life much more seriously after that, and though I still managed to find time to cut capers with Kili, I felt as if somehow I would be doing myself a disservice to hold off doing something worthwhile with my life much longer.
The opportunity for something worthwhile came in the form of Thorin putting together an assembly of his oldest and most trusted friends to undertake the quest of reclaiming his kingdom. From the moment I heard him by the fire with my mother, discussing it under their beards, I determined that I wanted to go. Initially he said that I was too young, and my mother too, discouraged it. After all, it was difficult to know what we would be getting into, but it was fairly certain that it would be no picnic to go traipsing across Middle-Earth, confronting a fire-drake, and restoring a kingdom. In truth, that is what I was counting on; danger, unknowns, and a chance to prove wrong Thorin's ever-present doubts.
The arrival of Gandalf, one of Thorin's oldest friends, changed his mind at last, and he even went so far as to allow Kili to accompany us as well – though I mainly think that was because Kili claimed he would die if he was not allowed to come. Gandalf personally sent word to the dwarves that would be journeying with us, and my brother and I journeyed on together, pursuant to Gandalf's instructions, to a place called The Shire, more specifically, Hobbiton. Beyond that, we were simply to look for Gandalf's mark. The journey took us less than a week, as Kili and I traveled fairly light, bearing as many weapons as we thought we would need. I sharpened all the blades I owned and spent my time around the campfire at night devising new and improved ways to carry them. Kili took up the bow at a very early age, partially to spite Thorin, whom he disliked greatly, as Thorin told him that dwarves cannot use bows. I admire Thorin greatly – we do not always get along, but we are blood, and I have learned all I know now from him. Kili is not of the same mind, but I cannot change that.
Anyhow, we came at last upon a queer little settlement of what I was only assuming were hobbits, the community looking like a tiny range of foothills bearing a door at the side of each. We roamed the town by night, searching for Gandalf's guiding symbol, and at last came upon it on a green door.
Thence began our adventures – meeting Bilbo, a hobbit, who was to be our burglar, and re-meeting all of Thorin's comrades who knew us when we were dwarflings. The next year and then some of our lives would be spent almost in each others' exclusive company.
I am going to pause there for now, and resume sometime tomorrow, if I have the heart. These days are not so hard to relive, but I am finding myself eagerer than I thought possible to reach the day in which we met Bard, and eventually, I met Sigrid.