For those of you that didn't find the first chapter complete crap good for you. You are awarded with a golden star. May you find the excitement of the Hobbit wonderful. I shalt write this, and many others, even though no one will most likely read it. I wish I own it but, no matter how much I wish it is not mine. It belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. The only thing that is mine is Fuin (totally didn't mean for Thorin and his names to end in the same suffix), his race, and Dumorn. Though you should already know this, People-persons. It's in the Fanfiction category. ONWARD TO CHAPTER TWO!
Your Author -fangirlzrule
"Gandalf." Thorin and Fuin greeted the grey wizard when they saw it was him that opened the door. Fuin saw the head of someone with curly hair behind Gandalf and assumed that this was the owner of the hobbit hole, Bilbo Baggins. "I thought you said that this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice." Thorin continued.
"We wouldn't have found it if it wasn't for that mark on the door." Fuin added, a little irritated.
The hobbit pushed his way in front of Gandalf. "Mark? There's no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago." Bilbo said.
"There is a mark. I put it there myself." Gandalf said. Fuin held some sympathy for Bilbo, for he knows how frustrating dwarves and wizards can be. "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield. And Skull, our assassin."
"So, this is the Hobbit." Thorin states. "Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?" Thorin questions.
"Pardon me?" Bilbo asks confused.
"Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?" Thorin continues rapidly.
"Well, I do have some skill at Conkers, if you must know," Bilbo starts, a little proudly. "but I fail to see why that's relevant."
"Thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." Thorin states. "Skull, meet Nori, Ori, Dori, Oin, Gloin, Bombur, Bofur, Bifur, Balin, and Dwalin." He stated pointing to each of the dwarves. "These are my nephews Fili and Kili." Thorin continued. Fuin stored the information for later. He is glad he has a great memory, otherwise he would have already forgotten their names.
"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?" Balin asked Thorin.
"Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms." Thorin confirmed with a nod.
"All of them! And what did the Dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?" Dwalin almost looked hopeful to Thorin.
"They will not come. They say this quest is ours and ours alone." Thorin replied grimly. The rest of the dwarves let out disappointed murmurs.
"You're going on a quest?" Bilbo inquired.
"Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light." Gandalf said instead of answering. "Far to the east, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single, solitary peak." Gandalf says pulling out a map.
"The Lonely Mountain." Bilbo read off the map as he brought in a candle for light.
"Aye, Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time." Glion stated.
"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold: 'When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end'." Oin stated.
"Uh, what beast?" Bilbo asked a little frightened.
"That would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire-breather. Teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks." Fuin stated. Everyone looked surprised before shrugging it off that he just spoke.
"Extremely fond of precious metals." Bofur stated towards Bilbo adding on to what Fuin said.
"Yes, I know what a dragon is." Bilbo states.
"I'm not afraid. I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of Dwarfish iron right up his jacksie!" Ori states. Fuin can't help but grin under his mask at the young dwarf's enthusiasm.
"Good lad, Ori!" Is one of the many excited shouts of the dwarves. Fuin remembers the older dwarves of his time and that they are his favorite because of their rowdy nature and noisiness. It always reminded him of his home. Fuin felt homesick at this time. Dumorn no longer stands, so there is no hope for him to reclaim it like these dwarves can.
"Sit down!" Dori tells his brother.
"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us..." Balin starts. "But we number just 13. And not 13 of the best... nor brightest," He continues downhearted. The other dwarves started objecting.
"You all have a fire in you that could push you to do things that others wouldn't think of doing." Fuin started disagreeing with Balin. "You may be few in number… but you're fighters, all of you, to the last Dwarf." Fuin continued. "Right now, all of you have more faith in your home than I do. Where I come from is barren and has been abandoned for a long time." Fuin finished off. The Company was moved by his words, Fuin could practically see their moral boost higher. "And you forget, we have a Wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time." Fuin said a little mischievously, putting the attention on Gandalf.
"Oh, well, now, uh, I I I wouldn't say that, I " Gandalf stuttered out as the dwarves looked towards him.
"How many, then?" Dori asked him, clearly wanting a number.
"Uh, what?" Gandalf asked a little bit cautiously.
"Well, how many dragons have you killed? Go on, give us a number!" Dori continued his interrogation. Fuin was sitting in the background enjoying Gandalf's suffering.
"Hm." Gandalf glares at Fuin for putting him into this mess while embarrassedly starts coughing on his pipe smoke. The dwarves jump to their feet, arguing about the number of dragons Gandalf has killed.
"Shazara! If we have read these signs... do you not think others will have read them too?" Thorin bellows over the noise of the others. "Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon, Smaug, has not been seen for 60 years. Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor? Du Bekâr! Du Bekâr!" The dwarves cheer.
"You forget, the Front Gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain." Balin states.
"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." Gandalf says while reaching into his robes. He pulled out a key Fuin has saw a few times since it was crafted. Gandalf handed the key to Thorin who looks at it in wonder.
"How come you by this?" Thorin asks.
"It was given to me by your father. By Thrain. For safekeeping. It is yours now." Gandalf tells him.
"If there is a key...there must be a door." Fili stated the obvious.
"These runes speak of a hidden passage to the Lower Halls." Gandalf says pointing to the map with his smoking pipe.
"There's another way in." Kili says excitedly.
"Well, if we can find it, but Dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map...and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in Middle-earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth...and no small amount of courage. But if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done." Gandalf says.
"That's why we need a burglar." Ori says.
"Hmm. And a good one too. An expert, I'd imagine." Bilbo says not getting the point.
"And are you?" Gloin asks him.
"Am I what?" Bilbo asks.
"He said he's an expert." Oin says excitedly. Several of the dwarves laugh at Oin's hearing.
"Hey. Me? No. No, no, no. I'm not a burglar. I've never stolen a thing in my life." Bilbo says, shaking his head and backing away.
"Well, I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He's hardly burglar material." Balin says with Bilbo nodding in agreement.
"Aye, the Wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves." Dwalin states. Bilbo continues nodding and the dwarves begin arguing. Fuin remembers when Dumorn fell and how he didn't know anything about living outside of Dumorn with limited supplies. Fuin was about to defend the hobbit but couldn't.
"Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is. Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most, if they choose. And, while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of Dwarf... the scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to him... which gives us a distinct advantage. You asked me to find the 14th member of this company and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest. And he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know. Including himself. You must trust me on this." Gandalf says growing angry, rising to his full height and casting darkness over the group as starts speaking in his 'powerful' voice. All the dwarves stared in awe. Fuin rolled his eyes, Gandalf seldom uses that voice and when he does it never impresses him.
"Very well. We will do it your way." Thorin states.
"No, no, no." Bilbo declines shaking his head.
"Give him the contract." Thorin says nodding towards Balin. Balin pulls out a long contract and gives it to Bilbo.
"Please." Bilbo pleads. Almost looks like he is ready to get on his knees and beg to Fuin.
"It's just the usual summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth." Balin tells Bilbo the overview of the contract. Bilbo steps back a few feet to read it.
"Funeral arrangements?" Bilbo asks hesitantly.
"I cannot guarantee his safety." Thorin says turning towards Gandalf, who is by Fuin.
"Understood." Gandalf nods.
"Nor will I be responsible for his fate." Thorin continues.
"Agreed." Gandalf nods again. Fuin and Gandalf share a look before they return to watching Bilbo.
"Terms: Cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one fourteenth of total profit, if any. Seems fair. Eh, Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof including but not limited to lacerations ... evisceration … incineration?" Bilbo reads off, asking his question hesitantly again.
"Oh, aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye." Bofur states, trying to be helpful.
"Huh." Bilbo says looking a little breathless.
"You all right, laddie?" Balin asks.
"Uh, yeah...Feel a bit faint." Bilbo says bending over looking nauseous and pained in Fuin's mind.
"Think furnace with wings." Bofur continues giving information.
"Air, I I I need air." Bilbo says beginning to walk towards the door.
"Flash of light, searing pain, then Poof! you're nothing more than a pile of ash." Bofur continues being unhelpful.
"Hmmm. Nope." Bilbo says before fainting.
"Ah, very helpful, Bofur." Fuin says sarcastically.
"I'll be all right, let me just sit quietly for a moment." Bilbo sits on his chair talking to Gandalf. Fuin sits in the corner gathering his thoughts and reminiscing over the day. This is the technique he uses to store stuff in his brain so he can remember later in life.
"You've been sitting quietly for far too long. Tell me; when did doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you? I remember a young Hobbit who always was running off in search of elves and the woods, who'd 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. The world is not in your books and maps; it's out there." Gandalf says trying to inspire the Hobbit.
"I can't just go running off into the blue. I am a Baggins, of Bag End." Bilbo says being stubborn. He almost reminds Fuin of himself.
"You are also a Took. Did you know that your great great great great uncle, Bullroarer Took, was so large he could ride a real horse?" Gandalf says as they look at the picture.
"Yes." Bilbo confirmed.
"Well he could. 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. And thus, the battle was won, and the game of golf invented at the same time." Gandalf says, which Fuin doesn't believe.
"I do believe you made that up." Bilbo says, unknowingly agreeing with Fuin.
"Well, all good stories deserve embellishment. You'll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back." Gandalf says.
"Can you promise that I will come back?" Bilbo inquires.
"No. And if you do, you will not be the same." Fuin says for Gandalf, knowing the wizard would water it down a bit.
"That's what I thought. Sorry, Gandalf, I can't sign this. You've got the wrong Hobbit." Bilbo says, a little apologetically.
"It appears we have lost our burglar. Probably for the best. The odds were always against us. After all, what are we? Merchants, miners, tinkers, toy makers; hardly the stuff of legend." Balin says as he and Thorin see Bilbo leave and Fuin hears their conversation.
"There are a few warriors amongst us." Thorin says in response.
"Old warriors." Balin agrees.
"I will take each and every one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills. For when I called upon them, they came. Loyalty. Honor. A willing heart. I can ask no more than that." Thorin says strongly.
"You don't have to do this. You have a choice. You've done honorably by our people. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains, a life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor." Balin says seeing if he would back out.
"Then we are with you, laddie. We will see it done." Balin says. The Dwarves gathered in the living room. Thorin began humming, a deep, baritone sound. The dwarves joined in and Thorin began the song.
"Far over the misty mountains cold.
To dungeons deep and caverns old
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's flaming spread.
The trees like torches blazed with light"
All of the Company settled down in various places around the living room. Fuin watched as all the dwarves fell asleep before he did, even though he doesn't need much. He figured this is one of the safest places to sleep for a while.
Translations:
Shazara! -Silence!
Du Bekâr! -To arms!
Word Count: 2530