And it came to pass that Ilúvatar called together all the Ainur and declared to them a mighty theme, unfolding to them things greater and more wonderful than he had yet revealed;
And the glory of its beginning and the splendour of its end amazed the Ainur, so that they bowed before Ilúvatar and were silent.
- Excerpt from Tolkien's Morgoth's Ring, the tenth instalment of The History of Middle-Earth. A piece from the Ainulindalë, recited by Pengoloð to Ælfwine.
Chapter 2: Songs
When they went back, they found Thorin with his feet on the fender smoking a pipe. He was blowing the most enormous smoke-rings, and wherever he told one to go, it went – up the chimney, or behind the clock on the mantelpiece, or under the table, or round and round the ceiling; but wherever it went it was not quick enough to escape Gandalf, or Solana. Pop! They sent a smaller smoke-ring from their pipes – both short clay ones, clearly belonging to Gandalf – straight through each one of Thorin's.
Whenever Gandalf's smoke-ring popped Thorin's, it would go green and come back to hover over the wizard's head. He had quite a cloud of them about him already, and in the dim light it made him look strange and sorcerous.
Solana, however, made other shapes; ships sailed across the room, horses galloped, strange red birds flew, and lightning struck as fast as, well, lightning; after they popped one of Thorin's smoke rings, they would turn into a pink ring and settle onto her wand; her wand was almost filled up by the time they returned.
Bilbo stood still and watched – he loved smoke-rings – and then be blushed, thinking how proud he had been yesterday morning of the smoke-rings he had sent up the wind over The Hill.
"Now for some music!" Thorin said suddenly, braking Gandalf and Solana's concentration and dispelling their smoke. "Bring out the instruments!"
Kili and Fili rushed for their bags and brought back little fiddles, and Dori, Nori, and Ori brought out flutes from somewhere inside their coats; Bombur produced a drum from the hall; Bifur and Bofur went out too, and came back with clarinets that they had left among the walking-sticks. Balin said, "Excuse me, I left mine in the porch!"
Thorin waved the apology away. "Just bring mine in with you."
The dwarves came back with viols as big as themselves, and with Thorin's harp wrapped in a green cloth. It was a beautiful golden harp, and when Thorin struck it the music began all at once, so sudden and sweet that Solana forgot everything else, and was swept away into the arms of music. The dark came into the room from the little window that opened in the side of The Hill; the firelight flickered and still they played on, while the shadow of Gandalf's beard wagged against the wall. The dark filled all the room, and the fire died down, and the shadows were lost, and still they played on. And suddenly first one and then another began to sing as they played, deep-throated singing that reminded Solana of Hagrid.
And then Solana began to sing, high above the others; they began to play a bit softer just to hear her better, and only hummed with the song. Solana, somehow, knew the lyrics, as if she had heard the song many a time before.
"Far over the misty mountains cold,
"To dungeons deep and caverns old,
"We must away ere break of day,
"To seek the pale enchanted gold.
"The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
"While hammers fell like ringing bells,
"In places deep, where dark things sleep,
"In hollow halls beneath the fells.
"For ancient king and elvish lord,
"There many a gleaming golden hoard,
"They shaped and wrought, and light they caught,
"To hide in gems on hilt of sword.
"On silver necklaces they strung,
"The flowering stars, on crowns they hung,
"The dragon-fire, in twisted wire,
"They meshed the light of moon and sun.
There was an instrumental pause, filled with major sounds, before the music settled down again, and Solana began singing slightly lower, in order to be able to sing more forcefully.
"Far over the misty mountains cold,
"To dungeons deep and caverns old,
"We must away, ere break of day,
"To claim our long-forgotten gold.
"Goblets they carved there for themselves,
"And harps of gold; where no man delves,
"There lay they long, and many a song,
"Was sung unheard by men or elves.
"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 biased with light,
"The bells were ringing in the dale,
"And men looked up with faces pale;
"The dragon's ire more fierce than fire,
"Laid low their towers and houses frail.
"The mountain smoked beneath the moon;
"The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.
"They fled their hall to dying fall,
"Beneath his feet, beneath the moon."
The music settled down once again from its crescent, and accompanied by the soft violins and low horn, Solana began singing even higher than before.
"Far over the misty mountains grim,
"To dungeons deep and caverns dim,
"We must away, ere break of day,
"To win our harps and gold from him."
Everyone was staring at Solana when the song ended. Legends had told of the Valar singing, playing in the time when the world was shaped, before Melkor sought more power; they knew, somehow, that it was somewhat like what they had just heard.
Solana saw everyone staring at her, near open-mouthed, and flushed; she'd never sung in front of anyone else before, but she got swept away in the music.
She coughed once, clearing her throat, before continuing with the last verse of the Dwarven song, which was sung even slower, accompanied without music;
"Far over the misty mountains cold,
"To dungeons deep and caverns old,
"We must away ere break of day,
"To slay the one that hoards out gold."
Then all was silent for a for a few seconds, until Thorin stood up, and by the way the other dwarves put away their instruments, it was clear the music was over. "Gandalf, Miss Solana, dwarves, and Mr. Baggins! We are not together in the house of our friend and fellow conspirator, this most excellent and audacious hobbit – may the hair on his toes never fall out! All praise to his wine and ale!" He paused for breath and for a polite remark from the hobbit, but the compliments were obviously – at least to Solana – quite lost on Bilbo, who was wagging his mouth in protest at being called audacious and fellow conspirator, though no noise came out, he was so flummoxed. So Thorin, thinking the Hobbit agreed, went on:
"We are met to discuss our plans, our ways, means, policy and devices. We shall soon before the break of day start on our long journey, a journey from which some of us, or perhaps all of us – except our friend and counsellor, the ingenious wizard Gandalf – may never return. It is a solemn moment. Our object is, I take it, well known to us all. To the estimable Mr. Baggins, Solana, and perhaps to one or two of the younger dwarves – I think I should be right in naming Kili and Fili, for instance – the exact situation at the moment may require a little brief explanation –"
But Thorin never got to finish his sentence, because Bilbo suddenly let out a loud shriek and tumbled, falling out of the door.
They all blinked. Then stared at the door that had slammed closed. Until Gandalf chuckled. And then they laughed, loud and hard; nobody had expected such a reaction. After a few minutes, they settled down, and Gloin spoke up.
"Humph!" He snorted, "Will he do, do you think? It is all very well for Gandalf to talk about this hobbit being fierce, but one shriek like that in a moment of excitement would be enough to wake the dragon and all his relatives, and kill the lot of us. I think it sounded more like fright than excitement! In fact, if it bad not been for the sign on the door, I should have been sure we had come to the wrong house. As soon as I clapped eyes on the little fellow bobbing and puffing on the mat, I had my doubts. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar!"
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and Solana turned to look at it, and the Hobbit that came through; she saw the others do the same.
"Pardon me," Bilbo said politely, "if I have overheard words that you were saying. I don't pretend to understand what you are talking about, or your reference to burglars, but I think I am right in believing that you think I am no good. I will show you. I have no signs on my door – it was painted a week ago – and I am quite sure you have come to the wrong house. As soon as I saw your funny faces on the doorstep, I had my doubts. But treat it as the right one. Tell me what you want done, and I will try it, if I have to walk from here to the East of East and fight the wild Were-worms in the Last Desert. I had a great-great-great-granduncle once, Bullroarer Took, and –"
"Yes, yes, but that was long ago," said Gloin, waving the comment away. "I was talking about you. And I assure you there is a mark on this door – the usual one in the trade, or used to be. Burglar wants a good job, plenty of excitement and a reasonable reward, that's how it is usually read. You can say Expert Treasure-hunter instead of Burglar if you like. Some of them do. It's all the same to us. Gandalf told us that there was a man of the sort in these parts looking for a Job at once, and that he had arranged for a meeting here this Wednesday tea-time."
"Of course there is a mark," interrupted Gandalf. "I put it there myself. For very good reasons. You asked me to find the fourteenth man for your expedition, and I chose Mr. Baggins. Just let anyone say I chose the wrong man or the wrong house, and you can stop at thirteen and have all the bad luck you like, or go back to digging coal."
He scowled so angrily at Gloin that the dwarf huddled back in his chair; and when Bilbo tried to open his mouth to ask a question, he turned and frowned at him and stuck out his bushy eyebrows, till Bilbo shut his mouth tight with a snap. "That's right," said Gandalf. "Let's have no more argument. I have chosen Mr. Baggins and that ought to be good enough for all of you. If I say he is a Burglar, a Burglar he is, or will be when the time comes. There is a lot more in him than you guess, and a deal more than he has any idea of himself. You may – possibly – all live to thank me yet. Now –"
"Erm, can I say something?" Solana piped up, making everyone look at her. "If Bilbo doesn't want this job," Bilbo shook his head quickly when she turned to look for confirmation, "I am offering my services as a Burglar."
The assembled men all frowned at her – except Bilbo, who was beaming – until Gandalf spoke up. "Have you stolen before, then?"
Solana grinned cheekily, procuring a key from her pocket, which she had performed a switching spell on with a bit of dirt when Gandalf wasn't looking and it stuck out of his pocket. "I believe this is yours, Gandalf." She said, handing it to Gandalf who chuckled.
"I had it in my pocket, and I'm certain you didn't reach in there. How did you take it?"
"Trade secret." Solana said with a grin, chuckling with the others at her – admittedly terrible – joke.
"Very well. You shall be the fourteenth member of the party, and Mr. Baggins will stay here, at his home, if that is what Mr. Baggins wishes."
Bilbo cheered and hugged Solana in happiness. "Thank you, Solana. I'm not sure what I did to deserve such a… friend? Acquaintance? Visitor?"
Solana chuckled as Bilbo released the hug. "Friend would be appropriate, after tonight."
"Very well." Thorin spoke up. "We will continue in the morning. For now, we need a place to rest. Mr. Baggins?"
"Certainly!" Bilbo said happily, and was soon pushing couches, blankets, and cushions around to make enough room for thirteen dwarves, a witch, and a wizard.
That night, just before everyone was asleep, they heard a soft voice singing from the study, where Solana had decided to sleep. It seemed to lift their spirits; the entire party suddenly knew they would make it; in a coffin or not. Smaug would be destroyed, and the Lonely Mountain would belong to the Dwarves once again.
"Far over the misty mountains cold,
"To dungeons deep and caverns old,
"We must away ere break of day,
"To slay the one that hoards out gold."