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"Old man, how much longer?" I whined; practically limp in the seat beside Gandalf. It had been about a week and a half since we'd started our journey to The Shire and it was taking so damned long. I'd been able to sleep in the cart every night, but Gandalf and Old Fertie never seemed to stop or sleep. I'd only seen them stall to eat and if I asked for a hygiene break.
"As long as it will take to get there." Gandalf said, his blue eyes twinkling in mirth.
"But how long is that?" I laughed, nudging him lightly. The week and a half was long, but it was bloody amazing. I'd never left Fangorn Forest after I had run back, but I'd heard stories of the world beyond my forest paradise.
Elves, Dwarves, Humans, Wizards, Orcs, Goblins, Gnomes, Hobbits, and all other types of creatures that I hope to see on this quest! In only one week, I had already seen gorgeous landscapes, and some beautiful creatures. Gandalf had rode us through a human village and it was wonderful to see a human village once again.
"Where are we currently?" I asked, looking up at the soft purple, pink, and orange evening sky. "I'm sorry I'm asking so many questions."
"Don't apologize for curiosity, my Key. We'll need that curiosity during this quest." Gandalf said, handing me his pipe to hold as he dug around in his robe for some more pipe weed.
"I don't want to pester you with so many questions." I admitted, shrugging my shoulders.
"Don't be wary of asking questions. That is how we get answers." Gandalf said, finding a rather large bag of pipe weed and taking his pipe back.
"Yet you haven't answered any of my questions." I teased, my nose twitching as the light smoke hit my senses.
"Oh yes! We are not far from crossing The Gwathló River, also called Greyflood. About another week or two of travel. We have been lucky and we have made wonderful time." Gandalf seemed pleased with our speed.
"Will the quest be this long?" I asked. I haven't thought much about the quest, only wondering on what I hoped to see. I hadn't even asked the Wizard what the whole quest was about!
"Oh, of course not!" Gandalf chuckled, blowing out a ring of smoke that slowly turned into a smoke dragon. The wispy dragon spun through the air, flying around my neck and into my hair.
"Our true quest will be much longer. We shall face hardships, and we will all be traveling on ponies and on foot." Gandalf said, flicking at Old Fertie's reigns.
"Now who's joining us? I've asked you so many questions, but almost none of them have been about the quest!" I said, furrowing my brow.
"There shall be..let's see..thirteen...you..and if Mr. Baggins agrees, then there shall be fifteen of you. Then one of me." Gandalf then drifted off into his own thoughts, puffing out smoke every so often.
"Kyrie, wake up! We are entering The Shire!" Gandalf called me awake. Slowly, I uncurled myself from my padding in the back of the cart. The rest of the trip had been just under two weeks, just like the old Wizard had predicted.
"R-really?" I yawned tiredly, shaking myself awake and stretching. I managed to crawl into the seat beside Gandalf, who seemed as refreshed as he always was. I swear, I don't think Wizards need sleep. I still feel bad for poor Old Fertie, poor girl didn't seem tired, but I'm sure she could use a break.
"Just take a look around." Gandalf said, waving his arm across the landscape. Together, Gandalf and I had traveled all sorts of landscapes. Beaches, mountains, forests, lakes, plains, but nothing we had seen could be compared to the beauty of The Shire.
Green, everything was bright and colorful. Rolling hills were covered with thick grass and blooming flowers, some of the most beautiful landscapes that I've ever seen. The Hobbits, the natives of The Shire, were peaceful folk. They were about half the size of a full blooded human, sort of like the Fae.
I wouldn't call a Hobbit a Faery to his or her face though.
As the cart slowly rolled through the quaint little Shire town, which Gandalf told me was called Hobbiton, the native Hobbits all waving at us as we passed. They seemed a hearty people, hardworking as well. Small Hobbit children were scampering around, their large hairy feet flopping against the pressed dirt and cobblestone roads.
All the homes were quaint little holes in the ground with circular architectures. Dark woods and brick were brightened up by the multicolored circular doors which seemed to pop out to the eye. Each home seemed to have a lovely garden and seemed to meld into the rolling hills.
The cart jerked to a stop suddenly, almost knocking me off my seat. Gandalf dismounted the cart, and tied his cart up at a post and water trough. Past the post was a long road that was dotted with some larger Hobbit-holes.
"We're walking, where to?" I asked, peering down the sunny road.
"We shall be encountering our burglar. The others shall meet us here tonight." Gandalf said, pointing to the largest Hobbit-hole that was at the very end of the road.
"I would pull up the hood of your cloak." Gandalf said, pulling his ancient looking staff from the back of the cart. He adjusted his hat and robes, starting to walk slowly down the dirt road.
"Am I not welcome in this burglar's home?" I joked, striding beside the Wizard. I pulled the hood of my half-cloak over my head, shadowing most of my face.
"Of course not, I just believe it would be a lovely surprise when the company finds out that their tinkerer and warrior is a beautiful woman." Gandalf chuckled, his staff making soft thumping noises against the ground.
"I will disregard that last bit as a horrible joke." I snorted, rolling my eyes as we neared the large Hobbit-hole. The dirt road became soft grass and flat cobblestones, which felt much better against my bare toes. The circular door to the hole was a gorgeous green shade, but that's not what caught my attention first.
It was the Hobbit who was sitting beside the door on a bench, surrounded by the most gorgeous flowers and smoking a long pipe. He had the wildest head of copper brown hair and dark blue-green eyes. The Hobbit had the strangest attire as well, brown pants that went to his knees, a long-sleeved white shirt, a gold vest with a gaudy flower pattern, and a light blue cravat.
"Good morning." The Hobbit said as Gandalf and I stepped up to his home, peering at him from over his gate. It was amusing to see Gandalf towering over everything, the old Wizard seemed quite comfortable with his towering height. Me, I thought that the Hobbit-size town was lovely. I was a little taller than the average Hobbit, but not by much.
"What do you mean? Do you wish me a good morning or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not. Or perhaps that you feel good this morning or that it is a morning to be good on?" Gandalf mused, peering up into the bright blue sky. I almost burst a lung trying to keep from laughing as the Hobbit's face curled in confusion.
"Uh..All of them at once, I suppose." The Hobbit stuttered, watching Gandalf as if he was crazed. "Can I help you two with something?"
"That remains to be seen." Gandalf said, leaning heavily against his staff. The Hobbit rose a brow at Gandalf, who smiled and tilted his head to far sideways, I'm surprised his hat didn't slide off.
"I'm looking for somebody to share an adventure with." Gandalf said mysteriously, tilting his head to stare at the sky once more. I peeked up as well, but there was nothing of interest except for fluffy white clouds. The Hobbit's brow furrowed as he quickly dropped his long pipe from his lips.
"An adventure? Now, I don't imagine that anyone west of Bree will be interested in adventures." The Hobbit said with a strange twist of his head. That's a little confusing. Why would the Hobbit react so strongly to the mere thought of an adventure?
"Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things." The Hobbit continued, standing and moving to his mailbox with a snooty air about him. It was obvious that he was redirecting his attention to his mailbox that we stood next to, trying to avoid eye contact with Gandalf. As he came closer, I noticed that I wasn't much taller than the Hobbit. Maybe by a few inches, his curly haired head came just up to my eye.
"Make you late for dinner." The Hobbit said, sticking his pipe back in his mouth. He started thumbing through his envelopes, faking interest and humming in concentration as he read every address. The Hobbit's eyes kept darting between the mail in his hands and Gandalf and I, a clear sight that he was uncomfortable with us.
"Uhhgghhh…Good morning." The Hobbit said after he took a few hasty puffs of his pipe. Without even as much as a nod of his curly head, the Hobbit turned around to head back inside his hole. Gandalf huffed, his head rearing back in shock at the Hobbit's attitude.
"To think I should have lived to be good morning'ed to by Belladonna Took's son! As if I were selling buttons at the door!" Gandalf seethed, his eyes narrowing at the Hobbit, who stopped his march to his home halfway up his stone steps.
"I beg your pardon?" The Hobbit said, his dark blue-green eyes narrowing in confusion.
"You've changed, Bilbo Baggins! Not entirely for the better!" Gandalf reprimanded the Hobbit, who seemed to get more agitated. The Hobbit's, Bilbo's, eyes darkened and narrowed, watching the two of us with a wary glance.
"I'm sorry." Bilbo said sarcastically, cocking his hip to the side. "Do I know you?"
"Well you know my name! Although you don't remember that I belong to it! I am Gandalf..and Gandalf..means me!" Gandalf said cheerily, smiling down at the Hobbit. "And this is my Tinkerer." He said, gesturing to me with a flourish. I took this as a sign that Gandalf wanted me to stay silent, so all I did was bow low at the waist.
"Gandalf…G-Gandalf..oh! Not Gandalf the wandering Wizard who made such excellent fireworks! Old Took used to have them on midsummer night's eve!" The Hobbit's eyes flashed with recognition. Gandalf laughed along with the Hobbit until he said that he had thought Gandalf had gone out of business.
"And where else should I be?" Gandalf asked angrily, making the Hobbit clear his throat. I noticed that Baggins had a custom of shutting his mouth by smoking his long pipe when he couldn't think of anything to say.
"Well I'm pleased to find that you remembered something of me, even if it was only my fireworks." Gandalf said, tapping his foot on the cobblestone. Bilbo eyed Gandalf worriedly, taking slow puffs of his pipe.
"Please, go wait by the cart, Tinkerer." Gandalf turned to me, a sly smile on his face. "I'll join you soon."
I nodded, turning around and making my way back to the cart. I guess Gandalf wanted some one-on-one time with Bilbo to try and persuade him into joining us.
Good luck to that old, crazy Wizard.
"Remember, keep your hood up until after you sign the contract." Gandalf reminded me as we strode towards the Baggins' Hobbit-hole. When Gandalf came back to the cart, he had told me that he had persuaded Bilbo into joining us and that the Hobbit had invited us over tonight for a celebration/contract-signing dinner.
"Why?" I asked, already tugging my hood over my head. Gandalf had told me to keep my hood up about four times now and I was starting to get suspicious.
"As a surprise!" Gandalf said cheerily, his staff was leaning across his shoulders.
"Whatever you say." I snorted as we came to the front door, which was wide open. Shouting and cheering came from inside the Hobbit-hole, which was just the right size for me to step into, but Gandalf had to bend down.
"Gandalf!" voices cheered as we entered the luxurious and homey Hobbit-hole. Gandalf steered us towards the kitchen, where tables were shoved together and twelve Dwarves sat.
"Hello, company!" Gandalf greeted the Dwarves, who all cheered. Looking in the corner, I saw Bilbo Baggins, but he was not in the celebrating mood. He seemed agitated, nervous, and shocked. As I concentrated on his voice, I noticed that he was trying to stop the Dwarves from 'destroying his home'.
"We were not invited, were we?" I hissed lowly, slowly turning to Gandalf. I glanced towards Gandalf, who smiled sheepishly.
Tricky old Wizard.
Bilbo's POV:
I can't believe it! One moment, I'm alone, about to eat my first supper and then the next moment, twelve Dwarves were rampaging through my house! They were leaving mud, dirt, grime, and all sorts of nasty things about! They were tossing their coats and weapons wherever they pleased!
And don't even get me started on the debauchery they committed on my pantry!
And now that damned Wizard and his cloaked Tinkerer were back! There's no doubt in my mind that they have something to do with the attack on my home!
The Dwarves had cheered at the sight of the Wizard, just at the same time that they were almost about to start eating. After throwing food about, walking on my table, and having a –oh gods- a belching contest, I would have thought their desire for destruction was satiated. I was wrong.
The Dwarves then started rousing around the house, doing gods know what! It took me at least twenty minutes to chase Gandalf down, and when I finally found him, he actually found me. I was about to bash my head in when Gandalf appeared, asking about why I looked so upset!
"Gandalf! What is the meaning of this?! I'm surrounded by Dwarves! What are they doing here?" I shouted, cringing as I heard some of the Dwarves start another belching contest and one spoke of crocket and how one 'needed the balls to play.'
Truly vile!
"They're quite a merry gathering, once you get used to them." Gandalf seemed calm and cheery, which only made me more irritated.
"I don't want to get used to them! Look at the state of my kitchen! There's mud trod into the carpet! T-the the- they PILLAGED the pantry! I'm not going to even tell you what they've done to the bathroom; they've all but destroyed the plumbing! I don't understand what they're doing in my house!" I ranted, trying to take deep, calming breaths.
Just as I was about to start screaming, one Dwarf politely interrupted Gandalf and I to ask where he could put his plate. When another Dwarf grabbed his plate and tossed it to another Dwarf who was standing in the kitchen doorway! Then, all the plates, glasses, and silverware started soaring through the air!
"Can you not do that?!" I cried, watching my mother's good plates go flying through the air. I rushed into my kitchen, where the Dwarves were banging and hitting together silverware to make a cacophony which they thought was music. "You'll blunt them!"
"Oh, you hear that lads? He says we'll blunt the knives!" A Dwarf with a strange hat and braided pigtails taunted, hitting the table harder with his fists. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of dark brown fabric. The Wizard's Tinkerer was standing in the doorway, his face shadowed by his hood. The hooded tinkerer was helping the Dwarves, catching glassware and tossing it off to the Dwarf with an…axe sticking out of his head.
"Blunt the knives, bend the forks." One of the Dwarves started singing, and was quickly joined by the rest of his filthy little company.
"Smash the bottles and burn the corks! Chip the glasses and crack the plates! That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!" The Dwarves all sang, plates, glasses, and silverware flying through the air. Some Dwarves were washing, some were drying, and some were sorting.
Sure, they're cleaning now after they've eaten me out of house and home!
"Cut the cloth and tread the fat! Leave the bones on the bedroom mat! Pour the milk on the pantry floor! Splash the wine on every door! Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl! Pound them up with a thumping pole! And when you've finished, if any are whole- Send them down the hall to roll! That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!" All the Dwarves cheered. They had all re-joined together in the kitchen, standing proudly around the stacks of "cleaned" wares.
I can feel my eye twitching.
Try and take deep breaths, Bilbo old boy, deep breaths.
Then, just when I thought nothing could get worse, there was another knock at the front door. The Dwarf with white hair and a long beard raced to the door.
Great! More of them!
"Tinkerer, allow me to introduce Fili, Kili, Oin, Gloin, Dwalin, Balin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Dori, Nori, Ori.." Gandalf said to his hooded friend as all the Dwarves rushed to the front door, pointing to each Dwarf, who had previously introduced themselves to me, but I had no recollection of who was who.
"And the leader of our company Thorin Oakenshield." Gandalf said, nodding to the doorway. There in the doorway was the biggest Dwarf that I could have imagined! He strode into my home like he owned the place, the other Dwarves bowing down for him.
"Gandalf, I thought you said this place was easy to find. I lost my way, twice. I would not have found this place at all if it weren't for the mark on the door." Thorin was soft spoken as he talked to Gandalf, he clearly enjoyed the old Wizard's company.
"There's' no mark on that door, it was painted a week ago!" I said, wanting to rush to my door and check it! I just painted that door! It was the ugliest color of old mustard, but now it was a rather charming green.
And there better not be one mark on it because of that..that..Firework Wizard!
"There is a mark. I put it there myself. Bilbo Baggins, may I introduce you to the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield." Gandalf called me out of my internal rant. I glared at the Wizard, who was smiling sheepishly. I once dreamed of meeting a Wizard like the ones I read about in my books, but after meeting Gandalf, I rescind that dream!
"So..this is the Hobbit." Thorin said, standing tall with his arms braced over his chest. He stood an awful lot alike the older and meaner Hobbits that used to pick on the younger Hobbits when I was young.
"Tell me, Master Baggins, have you done much fighting?" Thorin said, staring at me from down his nose. He started to circle me, like a bloody wolf.
"Pardon me?" I said, standing as firm as I could. This Dwarf would not intimidate me in my own home.
"Axe or sword, what is your weapon of choice?" The Dwarf said, narrowing his dark blue eyes at me.
"Well I have some skill at conkers, if you must know." I said sarcastically, but a rather vicious look from the large Dwarf had me changing my tone quickly. "B-but I fail to see how that's relevant." I practically whimpered, looking to Gandalf.
"Thought as much." Thorin shot an amused look back as his pose of Dwarves. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." Thorin said as he looked me up and down with a discouraging eye. I huffed, puffing my chest out and squaring my shoulders. I might not be keen on this adventure or these strangers in my home, but I was no weak grocer!
The whole company laughed and followed their leader into the kitchen. Gandalf smiled and chuckled, but as the Dwarves entered the kitchen, the old Wizard lent against the wall with an exhausted sigh. His Tinkerer walked towards us, and that was when I noticed an odd sound.
Chiming…tinkling really. I traced the sound to the feet of the Tinkerer. His feet were very small and dainty, but then again I've never seen feet other than other Hobbit's feet, which were all massive. I saw that on the Tinkerer's bare feet were rows of silver and gold little bells, which I could hear now that the Dwarves were muttering silently instead of shouting.
With a tilt of Gandalf's head, the Tinkerer and I followed the Dwarves into the kitchen. For a long while, the Dwarves talked about their kin. Thorin was served some soup by the Dwarf that was fatter than all the others combined. The Dwarves seemed saddened by the fact that their kin wouldn't be helping them with their adventure.
"They say this quest is ours and ours alone." Thorin said, staring down into his soup.
"Y-you..you're going on a quest." I asked nervously, standing in Gandalf's shadow. Every braided, hatted, and hooded head turned to stare at me.
"Bilbo, my dear fellow, would you have us a little more light?" Gandalf said with an awkward clearing of this throat. I nodded, grabbing a large candle and lighting it as Gandalf spread out a small map onto my kitchen table.
"The Lonely Mountain." I read slowly as I peered over Thorin's shoulder, holding the candle close enough to shed some light, while being far enough away so wax wouldn't start to drip. I saw the tinkerer tug on Gandalf's sleeve, making the Wizard bend down. The tinkerer whispered something into the Wizard's ear, which he nodded to.
"Yes, this is the quest map." Gandalf said, standing tall over all the others in the room. I watched as the tinkerer nodded his head, but didn't speak. Was the tinkerer mute? Gandalf had only introduced him as 'Tinkerer', so maybe he didn't have a name. The tinkerer was only about a half a hand taller than me, but his body seemed stick thin. I couldn't see any weapons attached to his back, but that didn't mean he had anything hidden on his person. Other than his daggers and secret pouch, of course.
"Ah...what beast?" I yelped as I suddenly tuned back into the conversation.
"That would be a reference to Smaug, the terrible. Chiefest and greatest calamity of our age." One of the Dwarf's said, pointing to an illustration of a large, fire breathing dragon. "Air born fire breather. Teeth like razors. Claws like meat hooks. Extremely fond of precious metals."
"Yes..I know what a dragon is." I said, cupping my hands in front of me nervously.
"I'm not afraid! I'm up for it! I'll give him a taste of Dwarfish iron right up his jacksie!" The youngest looking Dwarf said, standing up. The other Dwarves cheered, agreeing with the Dwarf that was wearing what looked like a knitted sweater. He was dragged to his seat by Gandalf's Tinkerer, who lent close to whisper into the Dwarf's ear. The young Dwarf's eyes grew to an enormous size and slowly nodded his head.
"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us. We only number thirteen. And not thirteen of the best," The Dwarf that answered Thorin's knock said, dampening the other Dwarves' spirits. "Nor brightest." The old Dwarf sighed, eyeing his rag-tag group of kinsmen. The table erupted with an angered dull roar.
"We may be few in number, but we are fighters, all of us! To the last dwarf!" The young Dwarf with a braided mustache called, punching his fist in the air. He was chorused by his kinsmen, their deep cheers making my sensitive ears ring unpleasantly.
"Don't forget, we have a wizard in our company! Gandalf would have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!" The only Dwarf with a smattering of beard fuzz cheered, smiling widely at Gandalf, who seemed to wilt a little.
That deceitful, giant loon!
Here he is, inviting Dwarves into my home, and lying to those Dwarves about his "dragon slaying" abilities!
"How many then? How many dragons have you killed? Give us a number!" One older Dwarf taunted the Wizard, causing all the other Dwarves to start shouting. Gandalf stuttered, and tried to change the conversation. I tried to calm the Dwarves down, but I couldn't hear my own thoughts over the shouts of the Dwarves.
With a mighty roar, Thorin stood up. All the Dwarves instantly quieted down, watching the largest Dwarf with respect.
"If we have read these signs do you not think others have too?" Thorin said rhetorically, rolling his eyes. The Dwarves looked at each other nervously, fearing for their gold.
"Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing, wondering, and weighing the risks. Perhaps the wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back and wait for others to claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize back this chance to take back Erebore!" Thorin shouted, his fists slamming into my great grandfather's table. I winced and sighed as I saw two indents in the polished wood.
Dwarves are the reason why we can't have nice things.
Thorin's shouts, rousing his men into a rowdy cheer. Gandalf smiled at the cheering company of Dwarves, his tinkerer's shoulders were shaking in what appeared to be light laughter.
I'm still not comfortable with a hooded figure in my home.
The Dwarves then started talking about how they were going to take back their home. Thorin started talking about charging the gate, but then the old Dwarf that opened the door from him shot his idea down. Apparently the door was sealed shut.
Gandalf cleared his throat, a sly smile crossing his wrinkled features. With a rustle of his dirty, grey robes, a key appeared in his hand. The key was bronze, crafted with straight lines and bold designs.
"How came you by this?" Thorin whispered, recognizing the large key.
"It was given to me by your father, my Thrain. For safekeeping. It is yours now." Gandalf said, pressing the key into Throrin's hand. Thorin's eyes flashed in anger for a moment, but he seemed to calm down with the key in his hand.
"If there is a key, there must be a door," The blonde, young Dwarf said happily, his ears perking up.
"These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls." Gandalf said, tapping at the red runs on the map with his pipe.
"There's another way in!" The beardless Dwarf said, the room uplifting with small whispers.
"Well..if we can find it. Dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer lies somewhere hidden in this map and I do not have the skill to find it. But, there are others in Middle-Earth who can." Gandalf said, waving his hand over the map in annoyance.
"The task I have in mind will require a lot of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But if we are careful and clever, I believe it can be done." Gandalf said, turning his attention to me and smiling.
"That's why we need a burglar." The youngest Dwarf said in realization.
"Hm. A good one too. An expert, I'd imagine." I said, nodding my had and tugging at my suspenders.
"Well..are you?" One of the older Dwarves questioned.
"Am I what?" I asked, trying to remember where I put my other candles. This room was still a little too dim.
"An expert?" The same Dwarf asked.
"Me! Oh! Uh, no no! I'm not a burglar. I've never stolen anything in my life!" I felt positively embarrassed! There was no way that I was a thief and there was no way I would be joining this "merry gathering" of ill-mannered Dwarves.
"He said he's an expert!" The Dwarf with an ear horn said with a chuckle. I kept telling the Dwarves no as their voices and chittering got louder, but thankfully, an older Dwarf stopped everyone.
"I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He's hardly burglar material." The old Dwarf, who I believe was named Balin, said with a soft smile.
"Aye. The wild is no place for gentle folk who can't fight or fend for himself." Balin's tattooed brother said with a snuff.
All the dwarves started to murmur in agreement. I was smiling and nodding my head, feeling proud that I'd managed to wiggle my way out of one of Gandalf's plots.
"And what of your Tinkerer?" Thorin asked over the dull roar of Dwarves. "I already have Tinkers, yet you bring another?"
"Well, my Tinker brings-" Gandalf started, but was cut off.
"The more Tinkerers the better!" The Dwarf named Dori said, slamming his mug onto the table. The Dwarves started talking loudly, and they just would not settle down! Gandalf opened his mouth a few times to try and speak, but he was always over spoken by the Dwarves. Somehow the Dwarves started talking about how I wasn't a decent burglar once more, which seemed to agitate the Wizard.
"If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, than a burglar…he is!" Gandalf shouted, a black cloud creeping around his form as he stood. With a deep sigh, the Wizard seemed to control himself and sat back down.
"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 scent of Dwarf, the scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage." Gandalf said, trying to sell me to the company as if I was some kind of exotic wares!
"And my Tinkerer is surpassed by none. This Tinker is a rare find, a hybrid of two great races. Tinker was raised in the wild by the great Ents of Fangorn Forest, yet is able to tinker and invent just as well as students who have studied the same craft for years." Gandalf said, nodding to the hooded figure who bowed low at the waist.
"You've asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I've chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest. And he's got a great more deal to offer than any of you know. Including himself. Trust me in my choices of members; I have trusted your Dwarves." Gandalf said, furrowing his bushy brows at Throin.
"Very well. We'll do it your way. Give him the contracts." Thorin grumbled to the oldest Dwarf, Balin, who was sitting to his side. I started to stutter, hoping that I could talk my way out of signing this daft contract!
"These contracts..they are completely binding, correct?" Gandalf asked, his blue eyes shining.
What was this damn Wizard up to now?
"Completely." Thorin hissed, his eyes narrowing.
"So whomever signs the contract cannot leave, and whoever signs the contract cannot be kicked out, unless they've done some horrible wrong?" Gandalf said, then seemed to re-think his words. "Rhetorically, of course."
"Completely binding." Thorin parroted. "Now, will your nominees sign them?"
"It depends, do you have the contracts?" Gandalf asked Thorin. Thorin's dark eyes narrowed at the Wizard, and was handed two folded up parchments. The old Dwarf, Balin came over to the tinkerer and me as we opened up our twin contracts.
"It's just the usual; summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth." Balin said, pointing out the fine print on both our contracts. The tinkerer didn't say anything, just nodded.
"F-funeral arrangements?" I could feel myself start to shake as I ripped the contract open wider. I started to pace and mutter as I read.
"Oh, up to but not exceeding one fifteenth total profit if any. Seems fair. Present company shall not be liable for injuries including but not limited to laceration, evisceration... incineration?" I yelped, turning wide eyed to the company of Dwarves.
"Oh, aye! He'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye!" The Dwarf with the ridiculous hat said, wagging his fingers. I could feel the breath leave my lungs at the mere thought!
"You all right, laddie?" Balin asked, worry in his eyes.
"Yeah, I'll be f-fine. Feel a bit faint." I said shakily, back stepping out of the kitchen and into the sitting room. I just wanted to get to my arm chair and sit down.
"Think furnace, with wings." The hatted one and the others just followed me out into the sitting room.
"Yeah, I-I-I need air." I stuttered, feeling blackness twinge at the edge of my vision.
"Flash of light, searing pain, then poof, you're nothing more than a pile of ash!" He said, as if it wasn't the most horrific thing I'd ever heard.
I will stay conscious, I will stay conscious, I will say conscious…
"No." I muttered, feeling my eyes roll into the back of my head and I fell flat onto my back.
When I came to, I had hoped that it was all a bad dream.
The fifteen pairs of eyes looming above me told me otherwise.
"Master Boggins, are you alright?" The fat, red headed Dwarf asked, a piece of cheese still clutched in his meaty hand.
"I..It's Baggins! I-I just need to sit quietly for a moment." I said, blinking rapidly. How did I get in my armchair?
"You've been sitting quietly for far too long!" Gandalf huffed, but then turned to the tinkerer.
"Read and sign." Gandalf said, opening the tinkerer's contract and rolling it out on the sitting room's coffee table. The tinkerer nodded, stepping up to the very edge of the table, where a large 'X' marked where he was to sign his name.
Curious, abet a tad dizzy, I peered at the tinkerer. If he wrote his name, I would be able to see it. What if the tinkerer's name was just Tinkerer? That would be a horrid name. My brow furrowed as a pale, thin hand came from the depths of the half-cloak and took the quill out of Gandalf's grasp.
The tinkerer seemed confused for a moment, looking up and waving Gandalf down to his height. Whispering one more in the Wizard's ear, Gandalf nodded and made a strange motion with his hand.
"Just remember, Master Oakenshield..the contract is binding." Gandalf laughed slyly as the tinkerer's hand flew across the contract in one fluid motion. I felt my mouth drop open as I read and re-read the name that was scrawled out in a shaky line.
Kyrie Seneca Levistone.
"Meet your tinkerer, Kyrie." Gandalf said, smiling at the look of shock on Thorin and the other Dwarves faces. The name read to me as Keer-ie, but was pronounced Keer-e-aye, which seemed strange yet eloquent. Quickly, Gandalf tugged at the back of the Tinkerer's hood, having it drop around her shoulders, and causing the half cape to open up.
The biggest pair of mismatched eyes and dishwater blonde hair caught the candlelight. Her eyes, one the color of the evening sky when blue meets yellow, becoming a magnificent teal and her other eye was the same shade of hazel as my polished kitchen table.
"WHAT!?" Thorin shouted, standing and glaring up at Gandalf, who did not flinch. "You bring a woman in my midst?! She will perish on this quest."
"Lady Kyrie is this company's tinkerer, there's her name, right under your signature." Gandalf protected the girl, who was ignoring the Dwarves and kept reading her already signed contract.
I watched her, the quiet creature that Gandalf had snuck into my home. I felt my cheeks flush in embarrassment and horror. A lady, in my Hobbit hole, and not once was she properly offered a cup of tea, or had a chair offered for her! The pure shame! My Father is rolling in his grave at my lack of manners..even if she was able to hide herself!
Her skin was a pretty pale and she was dressed appropriately, a little…strangely though, for a long quest. She wore a tight corset like top with an open midriff, showing off her slim, muscled stomach. I turned my eyes away quickly, slightly nervous with the amount of skin showing. Her brown trousers were lined with buckles from hip to ankle and a dark brown half cloak that fell to her knees.
"Don't expect me to protect her, or this Hobbit of yours." Thorin growled.
That's right, focus on the angry Dwarf instead of watching the tinkerer.
I think Thorin can only communicate in growls, shouts and hisses.
"Lady Kyrie doesn't need protection. Raised by the Ents, she is ready for any foe." Gandalf said. Kyrie pushed her half cloak behind her, revealing her whole body. At both her hips were two daggers, and there was a small bag attached to her left hip.
"Well, what of the Hobbit?" Thorin asked snidely.
"Oh, no, no, no! Not me, not I!" I shouted, shakily standing to my feet. Gandalf huffed, grabbing my arm and dragging me to the sitting room. I was shoved into one of my plush chairs rather rudely, I even almost spilt my tea!
"When did doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you?" Gandalf asked, shaking his head as if he knew who I was! As if he knew what I like! Maybe I like my doilies and my mother's dishes!
"I don't need anything other than my home, my books, and my maps." I snipped at the Wizard, who shook his head in disapproval.
"The world is not in your books and maps. It's out there." Gandalf tried to 'reason' with me.
"I can't just go running off into the blue! I am a Baggins of Bag End!" I gave another reason why I couldn't just up and rush off into the wild!
"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 said. Apparently he thought it was appropriate for him to tell me about my own family!
"Yes." I huffed, tapping my foot on the floor.
"Well he could! In the Battle of Greenfields, he charged the Goblin ranks. He swung his club so hard it knocked the Goblin King's head cleaned 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 said, looking down at me with curious eyes.
"I do believe you made that up." I said dryly, looking up at the sneaky Wizard.
Was he even a Wizard?
"Well, all good stories deserve embellishment. You'll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back." Gandalf said, trying to tempt me with tales and stories that I could proudly tell my fellow Hobbits.
Too bad none of them would care of what I say.
..Maybe that's enough to push me to join this company.
NO! That damned Wizard was now playing mind games with me.
But…
" ...Can you promise that I will come back?" I said slowly.
"No. And if you do... you will not be the same."
"That's what I thought. Sorry Gandalf, I can't sign this. You've got the wrong Hobbit." I said as politely as I could. I couldn't manage to look the Wizard in his eyes, because I could tell how disappointed he was. Nervously, I got to my feet and made a dash for my bedroom, which had been untouched by my houseguests.
Well, mostly untouched.