Chapter 3
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"There you go, Bilbo." Melda handed Bilbo a hot cup of tea.
"I'll be alright. Just let me sit quietly for a moment." Bilbo said from his seat.
"You've been sitting quietly for far too long." Gandalf retorted. "Tell me when did doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you. I remember a young Hobbit who was always running off in search of Elves in the woods. Who would stay out late, come home after dark trailing mud and twigs and fireflies. A young hobbit who would have liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire." Melda listened intently keeping her eyes in the mug in her hands. "The world is not in your books and maps. It's out there."
"I can't just go running off into the blue." Bilbo retorted. "I am a Baggins of Bag-end."
"You are also a Took." Gandalf countered. "Did you know that your great-great-great-great-uncle Bullroarer Took was so largehe could ride a real horse?"
"Yes."
"Yes, well, he could." Gandalf continued. "In the Battle of Green Fields, he charged the Goblin ranks. He swung his club so hard; it knocked the Goblin King's head clean off and it sailed a hundred yards through the air and went down a rabbit hole." Melda frowned doubting his story. "And thus, the battle was won. And the game of golf invented at the same time."
"I do believe you made that up." Bilbo said and Melda chuckled.
"Well, all good stories deserve embellishment." Gandalf sat across Bilbo. "You'll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back."
"Can you promise that I will come back?" Bilbo asked the grey wizard.
"No." Gandalf replied.
"But I promise I will keep you safe." Melda promised. Bilbo smiled at her.
"And if you do come back, you will not be the same." Gandalf continued.
"That's what I thought." Bilbo stood. "Sorry, Gandalf, I can't sign this. You've got the wrong Hobbit." And he left.
"What do we do now?" Melda asked the Wizard.
"Nothing." Gandalf leaned back in his chair. "I know Bilbo Baggins more than he knows himself. He will come. Trust me."
"Have I ever doubted you?"
Melda did not know what to think. It seemed they had lost their burglar and yet Gandalf was convinced that Bilbo would join them. She trusted Gandalf but could he really pretend to know Bilbo better than the hobbit knew himself? However, she did not blame the hobbit for refusing to come. His hobbit hole was a safe haven, why would he want to live this place to go on a perilous adventure? No one would. No one, except Melda. Although, she had to admit that Thorin Oakenshield, unlike his companions, was not very welcoming or trusting. It was clear that he did not value Bilbo or even Melda as much as he valued his companions. And yet, he showed no respect to them. Not the kind she was expecting.
Far over
The Misty Mountains cold
To dungeons deep
And caverns old
Thorin sang. The dwarves accompanying him. His voice was deep and calming, Melda thought.
We must away
'Ere break of day
To find our long-forgotten gold
The pines were roaring
On the height
The winds were moaning
In the night
The fire was red
It flaming spread
The trees like torches
Blazed with light
It was a beautiful song but a sad one. A song that spoke of how they had lost their homes. Maybe she shouldn't judge Thorin too harshly. She could at least give him a chance to prove he wasn't as much as arrogant or as an idiot as he seemed to be.
They had left early in the morning. Bilbo had not come with them. Riding at the head of the company next to Gandalf was Melda. She listened to the dwarves arguing about how stupid it now sounded to use a hobbit on their quest.
"Wait! Wait!" The company stopped. Bilbo Baggins walked up to them with the contract in his hand. "I signed it. Here." He handed it to Balin.
Gandalf and Melda glanced at each other with a smirk. "Everything appears to be in order." Balin said. "Welcome, Master Baggins to the company of Thorin Oakenshield."
"Give him a pony." Thorin simply said as the rest of the company cheered at the news.
"No, no, that won't be necessary." Bilbo started. "Thank you. I'm sure I can keep up on foot. I've done my fair share of walking holidays, you know? Even got as far as Frogmorton once. Ahh!"
In spite of his refusal, Bilbo was put on a pony and the Company made their way out of the Shire. Bags of coins were being thrown among the dwarves as they had bet on whether Bilbo would come or not. Melda and Gandalf had betted in his favor.
"Stop! We have to turn around." Bilbo yelled.
"What on Earth is the matter?" Gandalf asked him.
"I forgot my handkerchief." Bilbo said.
Melda rolled her eyes. "Oh, Master Baggins!" She groaned before pulling out her own handkerchief. "Take mine. I give it to you."
It was white, embroidered with a "M". "Are you sure?" Bilbo asked her as the company moved again.
"You need one and I never use it." Melda smiled. "It's yours."
"Thank you, Melda."
"You'll have to manage without pocket handkerchiefs…" Gandalf started. "…and a good many other things, Bilbo Baggins before we reach our journey's end. You were born to the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire. But home is now behind you. The world is ahead."
They rode out of the Shire and continued on for several days. The dwarves, most of them and particularly Fili and Kili, had shown themselves to be good travelling companions. As for Thorin, he had shown himself to be closed off, quiet most of the time and Melda hadn't talked to him much. Most of her interactions was with Bilbo and Gandalf and sometimes, she talked to Balin and Bofur. Balin seemed the voice of reason, the one that knew most of the dwarven history. History that Melda could spend hours listening to. Bofur was just a fun dwarf to be around, never knowing when to stop talking.
One night, after many days of riding, they settled camp on a cliff. Most of the dwarves were asleep. Bilbo couldn't find sleep because of Bombur's snoring. Fili and Kili sat by the fire, Gandalf and Balin smoking. As for Melda, she sat next to Gandalf waiting for sleep to come to her.
A shriek was heard in the distance.
"What was that?" Bilbo asked in fear.
"Orcs." Kili answered.
"Orcs?" Bilbo repeated, waking Thorin up.
"Throat cutters." Fili continued. "There'll be dozens of them out there. The lone lands are crawling with them." Gandalf and Melda glanced at each other.
"They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep." Kili said. "Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood."
The brothers chuckled. "You think that's funny?" Thorin berated them. Melda looked up at him. "You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?"
"We didn't mean anything by it." Kili apologized.
"No, you didn't." Thorin walked past her. "You know nothing of the world."
"Don't mind him, laddie." Balin said. "Thorin has more cause than most to hate Orcs."
"What do you mean?" Melda asked him.
"After the Dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient Dwarf Kingdom of Moria." Balin started. "But our enemy had got there first. Moria had been taken by legions of Orcs led by the most vile of all their race; Azog the Defiler." Bilbo had sat down across Melda, listening intently to the tale. "The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin." Melda glanced at Thorin who stood farther away, facing away from them. "He began by beheading the King. Thrain, Thorin's father was driven mad by grief. He went missing. Taken prisoner or killed. We did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us. That is when I saw him. A young Dwarf prince facing down the pale Orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe. His armor rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Cut off his arm. Azog, the Defiler, leaner that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken. Our forces rallied and rove the Orcs back. And our enemy had been defeated. But there was no feast nor song that night. For our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived." The dwarves that had been asleep minutes before were now awake. "And I thought to myself then there is one who I could follow. There is one I could call King."
Thorin turned around, only to find his company standing in silence around him. "And the pale Orc?" Bilbo asked. "What happened to him?"
"He slunk back into the hole whence he came." Thorin answered. "That filth died of his wounds long ago."
As he walked past her, Melda followed his retreating back with her eyes. With a new found respect. She had disliked him strongly and with each passing day, he was proving her right to do so. He barely spoke to her or Bilbo, barely sparing them a glance. And during their first meeting, he had shown himself quite rude and did not make a very good impression. Now, knowing what he went through after he lost his home, had put him in a new light. Maybe she should not judge him too harshly.
A pouring rain awaited them in the next few days. Thunder was rolling over their heads. They were all drenched, riding through the mud.
"Here, Mr. Gandalf can't you do something about this deluge?" Dori asked.
"It is raining, Master Dwarf and it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another Wizard." Gandalf answered.
"Are there any?" Bilbo asked.
"What?"
"Other Wizards?"
"There are five of us." Gandalf replied. "The Greatest of our order is Saruman the White. Then there are the two Blue Wizards—Do you know, I've quite forgotten their names."
"And the fifth one?" Melda asked.
"Well, that would be Radagast the Brown."
"Is he a great Wizard? Or is he more like you?" Bilbo asked and Melda snorted.
"I think he's a very great Wizard, in his own way." Gandalf said. "He's a gentle sould who prefers the company of animals to others. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to the east. And a good thing too. For always evil will look to find a foothold in this world."
The weather had gotten better within the days that followed. Three weeks had passed sine they left the Shire. It had been a quiet ride and quite an enjoyable one. But it wouldn't last for long.
As night was falling upon them, they neared the ruins of a house.
"We'll camp here for the night." Thorin said. "Fili, Kili, look after the ponies." Melda climbed down her horse as Thorin barked out his orders. "Make sure you stay with them." Gandalf disappeared in the ruined house. "Oin, Gloin. Get a fire going."
"Aye, right you are." Oin answered.
The Company were setting the camp for the night while Gandalf and Thorin were speaking in the small house. Barely a few minutes went by before Gandalf stormed out.
"Everything all right?" Bilbo asked him. "Gandalf, where are you going?"
"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense." Gandalf answered angrily.
"And who's that?"
"Myself, Mr. Baggins." Gandalf snapped. "I've had enough of Dwarves for one day."
"Gandalf! Wait!" Melda ran after him. She caught up to him as he was about to climb on his horse. "You are not going to leave me here, are you?"
"Isn't that what you wanted?" Gandalf countered. "An adventure."
"Gandalf, what am I supposed to do while you are gone?" Melda asked.
"Keep an eye on our burglar and make sure he remains safe." Gandalf said before leaving.
"Gandalf!" She exhaled before glaring in Thorin's direction. What did he exactly say to make Gandalf that angry? And when will Gandalf be back? And will he be back?