Chapter 15 then... I really should work on my papers but oh well, nevermind.
I'm glad you guys enjoyed Oris tale so much, it's one of my personal favourites of the many tales that Tolkien has written. By the way, I think in this chapter it will become a little more obvious who Thorin has called on for help ;)
Once again thanks for all the reviews and faves and so on and enjoy the chapter!
After travelling for the day and even riding through the night, the small company of four arrived at the ruins of Framsburg by sunrise. Bilbo had fallen asleep in Fílis arms, leaning against the soft, warm fur of his coat, when the soothing rocking motion suddenly stopped and he awoke, blinking irritated.
"We there yet?", he mumbled, looking around.
"They were here", Kíli remarked. "And not too long ago."
The slain black bodies of the orcs still plastered the ground before the barn, no rain had yet washed away the ashes of the campfire and a few, very faint prints of heavy, metal capped boots were visible in the churned ground.
"There!", Ori suddenly yelled and slid off the horses back to rush to a flat stone by the side of the barn. Bilbo craned his neck to see what he was looking at but couldn't make any sense of the sheer endless strokes and points, written in ash upon the light stone.
"It's a message!"
Fíli steered his horse closer to Ori, leaning over its neck to read.
"The Grey Mountains?", he glanced into the far distance up north towards a range of mountains that glistened in the morning sun, it's top still covered in clouds.
"Why would they head to the Grey Mountains?"
"To find shelter I suppose. The old fortress has long been abandoned but it is still a safe place for any dwarf to rest", Ori explained. "We have camped there before on our journeys. It's not the most comfortable place but it's sufficient."
Kílis eyes rested on Mount Gundabad, that lay quietly and peacefully during the day, when no orcs roamed its slopes. Suddenly, he listened up, placing a finger before his lips. "Shh. Did you hear that?"
The warg attacked before they could even see it and lay dead a second later, its skull split by the strong, large hoof of Fílis horse. The dapple grey pranced a little nervous until Fíli had calmed him down again, patting its neck.
"So this place isn't even safe during the day. I wonder why they camped here", he mused, eyeing the dead warg. It was large and direful and clearly belonged to the pack that had attacked them before. Thorin had thus been right: the key had been carried off to Mount Gundabad.
"We should hurry and get to the fortress as quickly as possible. Ori, get back on the horse. Master Baggins, hold on tight. We have no time to lose anymore."
Kíli pulled Ori back up and spurred his horse just as Fíli did, the animals dashing forward towards the Grey Mountains. Just simply riding those horses had been exciting enough for the hobbit, galloping with them however scared the living hell out of Bilbo and he clung to the horses thick mane, glad that Fílis arms to his left and right prevented him from falling off.
Again it was Kíli first, who heard the distant thundering of paws on the rocks and grassland and as he looked back over his shoulder, he grew pale in shock.
"Oh no!"
A pack of about ten wargs was at their heels, baring their teeth, their tongues hanging from their blood red throats. They were fast and more agile than the horses and soon only a few feet separated them from their persecutors.
"Fíli!", Kíli yelled, causing his brother to look back. "Faster! We have to outrun them!"
The ground was shaking below the hoofs of the large horses and even though the two dwarves pushed the animals on, the space between them and the wargs grew smaller and smaller. They heard the jaws clicking and snapping, heard them growl and howl and when Bilbo glimpsed to his side, the saw the eerie grimace of a particularly ugly one coming closer and closer.
He was sure to lose his life in this very moment, when suddenly Fílis large battle hammer crashed down into the wargs face, splitting its skull. Looking behind them, he saw Ori holding the horses reins from around Kílis body, who was shooting arrows at the attacking wargs.
One fell, then another one and two more fell back, hit by the beautifully engraved, platinum hammer. The remaining wargs soon fell behind, seemingly unsure and browbeat by the large horses and the dwarven weapons that rained down mercilessly on them. They soon disappeared into various directions but the two dwarven princes didn't slow their horses down. They thundered across the grassland, determined to reach the old fortress by night.
Bilbos heartbeat slowly calmed down, the fright still stuck deeply in his hobbit bones. He glimpsed up at Fílis face, only to find a certain grim determination on the youthful, usually so beautiful features of the dwarf. The same determination that showed on Thorins face and for the first time, the family resemblance became obvious to the hobbit.
The river Anduin gushed and gurgled to their right as they got closer to the mountain, reaching a large stone bridge by nightfall. Before them stood the dark pillars of the old fortress of the Grey Mountains, towering above. They crossed the Anduin and dashed on. Bilbo peeked down into the abyss below the bridge and swallowed hard.
It was Bofur who noticed them first, nearly dropping his pipe when he glimpsed down from a balcony above to find two very large horses rushing across the bridge, the youngsters and the hobbit atop.
"What on earth-", for the first time the chatty miner was speechless.
"THORIN!"
Durin's heir nearly dropped the blade he was sharpening when Bofur sprinted into the great hall where they had set up their camp.
"Thorin!"
"What's wrong with you now?"
All eyes were on Bofur, who nearly collapsed from running so quickly. He tried to regain his breath, supporting himself with his hands on his knees.
"They're-", he paused for a second, slowly causing Thorin to grow impatient. "They're here!"
"Who is here?"
"The lads!"
Nothing could hold Thorin back any longer. He dropped Orcrist and rushed past Bofur, closely followed by Nori and Dori who wanted to see their little brother again. They ran down various steps, through the wooden gate of the fort until they reached a massive round arch and only stepped to the side in time, not to be trampled by the huge horses.
The animals baulked, not being used to the dark confinements of a dwarven fortress inside a mountain but if even wargs couldn't scare the hell out of them, a dark mountain wouldn't either.
By the time the youngsters had calmed the horses, the remaining dwarves had arrived, all of them gleaming with joy that the four youngest had made it back safe and sound. Fíli was the first to slide from the back of the dapple grey and was immediately pulled into a tight embrace by his uncle, who beamed with joy and pride.
"You've made it", Thorin breathed relieved and proud, leaning his forehead against Fílis. "You've made it!"
"Sorry it took us so long", Fíli replied, smiling proud against his uncles thick fur coat.
Glóin and Bifur took hold of the horses reins until Kíli, Ori and Bilbo had slipped off the high backs as well, Ori immediately compassed by his brothers and whilst Dori cried tears of relief and joy, Kíli found himself greeted just as loving and proud as his brother, returning Thorins embrace and digging his fingers deep into the fur at his back.
"You two! You two have made me incredibly proud!", Thorin declared, nearly bringing Kíli to tears who desired nothing more than his uncles appreciation.
"Ye alright laddies?", Balin smiled, relieved himself that the youngsters had made it back.
Bilbo was greeted merrily, to his own surprise, by Bofur and Bombur, who had grown fond of the hobbit and he even received an approving nod from Dwalin, who leaned on one of his axes, a thick bandage covering his neck and shoulder.
"Where'd you get them horses then?", Bofur asked, looking curiously at the two animals.
"We got them from a man that can turn into a bear!", Kíli exclaimed grinning brightly.
"Poor bugger", Dwalin muttered to his brother. "Hopelessly addicted to them poppy seeds."
"You got them from where?", Bofur asked puzzled, not quite sure if the boy was genuine or maybe still a little off due to his wounds.
"Long story", Kíli smirked. "Brilliant to tell over a pint!"
"We shall do that then", Thorin smiled, turning to the horses then. "Those might come in handy later. Tie them up by the gate."
"I'm afraid we can't do that", Fíli objected, earning himself surprised glances from the company. "I promised to send them back to their owner, once they served their duty. He was most kind to us, I don't want to break the promise I made."
For a moment, everyone just silently looked at Fíli, wondering what had become of the usually reckless and carefree youngster. He stood there in the middle of the hall, his face still scratched and a little scarred, the blood of the battered wargs on his clothes with a serious, almost regal look on his face and it was in that moment, that he had convinced everyone, including Thorin, that there could be no better heir to the throne.
"Well, then you shall keep your promise", Thorin nodded.
They sent the horses off before settling down in the great hall, convinced that they would arrive safely had Beorn's Halls again. With a good meal, partially made up from Beorns provisions for the youngsters, and a small barrel of ale, they sat together by a campfire and the four adventurers told their tale.
They told them about Radagast and his healing magic, about their little fishing escapade and about Fíli taking a swim in the Anduin and also about Kíli shooting an arrow in Beorns behind, which had the company howling with laughter.
"I didn't know it was a man!", Kíli defended himself but laughed along with them. "He had our supper!"
"And the first thing you thought of was to shoot him?", Glóin bawled, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes.
They all felt a joy and relief that they thought had left them for good ever since they had arrived here in the north. The dangers of Mount Gundabad lurking in the darkness outside were forgotten that night, for their youngest had come back to them safely and they had proven themselves.
"How could he forgive you that?", Bofur asked curiously, convinced that he would have been pretty mad at anybody who shot him in the buttocks.
"It's all thanks to Ori", Fíli smiled and suddenly all eyes were on the young chronicler.
"What, thanks to him?", Dwalin asked, just as surprised as everybody else.
"Yeah", Kíli continued. "He made it up by telling the best story we've ever heard!"
"It was mesmerizing", Bilbo added and Fíli nodded in agreement.
"Without him we wouldn't be here right now."
And once again tears of joy shot into poor Oris eyes and he sat there very quietly, holding onto his cup of ale with Dori and Nori at his sides.
"To Ori then", Thorin said, lifting his cup.
"TO ORI!", it echoed through the fortress.
At the same time a white stallion appeared on a hilltop not too far away from the old fortress. Gandalf looked down into the valley, Mount Gundabad ablaze in the far distance. He petted Shadowfax' neck in approval.
"Thank you my friend. Only a few miles more and you shall be on your way again."
The horse flattened its ears when footsteps approached from behind. Thick armour clattered in the darkness, heavy shoes made of solid iron scrunched on the stony ground.
"He will be most delighted that you came", Gandalf said quietly glancing to his side.
"Can't let him down again, can I? We're family after all", a hoarse, deep voice rumbled through the air as a grim, tattooed face turned towards the fires of Mount Gundabad.
"Haven't killed orcs in a while. This shall be some fun."