CHAPTER TWO
Meeting the Company
Gandalf had told her where to meet him and the fourteen others she would be embarking on the quest with; in The Shire, in Hobbiton. But he had not said which of the funny little doors she would need to knock on. Every one she had passed was perfectly circular and painted a very bright colour; sky blue, periwinkle pink and olive green. Each had a handsome and very shiny door knob in the middle, and a brass bell just to the side. Although only one had a glowing rune at the bottom.
She dropped down from her horse, Abe, and crouched beside the glowing rune. She stroked it with her index finger and instantly recognized it. It was the that Gandalf had told her about when she got to the meeting point, and it was written in her native language, linguam autem dracones; the tongue of the dragons.
Farren stood up straight and gulped, rapping smartly three times on the door and waited patiently, wringing her hands together nervously. This was a foreign feeling to her and it made her feel rather sick to the stomach, her neck flushing and her palms sweating. She decided that she didn't like it and brought her hands down to her side, squeezing them into tight fists as the circular door opened slowly with an angered mumbling,
"There is no meeting here! We are closed - no more dwarves, no more wizards," the grumbling got louder as the door opened fully and Farren smiled at the owner; a young, youthful Hobbit with a head of blonde curls and a rather elderly scowl on his fair face,
"Hello sir," Farren tried her best to be polite, "I was wondering if - erm - if Gandalf was here," It was obvious to the Hobbit that this woman was not used to being around new people and he stiffly smiled, letting her duck pleasantly into his home. He gestured through a long corridor where, at the end, a bright orange light glimmered and a loud amount of laughter, chanting and chatter sounded,
"This way Miss -?" he said, waiting for her to continue and she took off her bow and quiver, setting it against a wall,
"Mirkwood," she replied merrily as they came to the end of the corridor,"Farren Mirkwood,"
"Ah! My dear girl!" Gandalf greeted cheerily, standing up from the scrubbed wooden table and shaking her hand warmly, then gesturing at the rest of the table. She stepped back in surprise, not expecting to be the centre of attention from thirteen bearded dwarves. Though she noticed one was not as heavily facial haired as the others, and she could actually make out the shape of his chin and jaw under the slight stubble,
"You must be the famed dragon tamer that Thorin has been talking about," the stubbly dwarf in question said excitedly, reaching across the table, getting butter on his sleeve, and shaking her hand. And for a moment, she was glad that she had her gloves on because suddenly, her hand was being shaken left, right and centre by every dwarf in the room. All except Thorin, who sat at the head of the table, his head reaching her rib cage, and his folded arms indicating that he was irritated by what his friend had said.
In a matter of minutes, she was ushered to a seat at the table, handed a steaming bowl of stew and a piece of bread, and was offered several pints of some sort of red liquid. She sniffed it questionably
"It's wine! The finest in all The Shire!" a red headed dwarf seemingly mocked the Hobbit loudly, and Farren later learned that his name was Bilbo Baggins, the widely accumulated thief. As the evening progressed, he somehow found herself doubting the Hobbit in having a career in burglary, watching him shouting about how old his mother's knives were and asking the dwarves through gritted teeth to 'kindly not trek muck all over his home'
"But he is only a Hobbit,"she told Gandalf later that night as they stood outside of the Hobbit's home, "You cannot guarantee his safety, you cannot even be sure he will return,"
"That is exactly why I asked you to join us," the wizard replied with a short sigh, "You must always have him in your vision, not only him; but the rest of the Company too,"
"I'm assuming that you will be leaving us,"she murmured, anger flaring up within her chest, "I'm afraid I am only armed with a bow, which will only defend us against a wolf or maybe a -,"
"You are an exceptional protector Farren, do not doubt yourself!" Gandalf raised his voice and half expected her to cower as the dwarves did when they mocked Bilbo,"You could transport a pack of one hundred past an army of Oarcs without them even smelling you. If you can go nearly eighty years without Sauron hunting you down, or even knowing your name; you are more than capable of undertaking this quest!"
He left with a victorious skip in his step, leaving the circular door open for Farren to return if she so wished to. But she didn't. She stayed with Abe in the field where all the rest of the Company's horses grazed, lying against his warming stomach, staring into the fire that danced shapes in her eyes and wondering what she had gotten herself into.
Certainly it would be the adventure of a lifetime and she would not have one as legendary as this again, so obviously she would go but these creatures were dwarves. Farren had seen many dwarves during her travels and had grown to despise them yet admire them. They all seemed to share the same stubbornness, one temper that seemed to get them into every trouble imaginable but they were brave, she had to admire them for that.