Chapter 3: The Valley
They did not sing or tell stories that day, even though the weather improved; nor the next day, nor the day after. They had begun to feel that danger was not far away on either side. They camped under the stars, and their horses had more to eat than they had; for there was plenty of grass, but there was not much in their bags, even with what they had got from the trolls. One morning they forded a river at a wide shallow place full of the noise of stones and foam. The far bank was steep and slippery. When they got to the top of it, leading their ponies, they saw that the great mountains had marched down very near them. Already they seemed only a day's easy journey from the feet of the nearest. Dark and drear it look, though there were patches of sunlight on its brown sides, and behind its shoulders the tips of snow-peaks gleamed.
"Is that The Mountain?" Bella asked, though she truly doubted it was. She didn't think the trip to the mountain was possibly going to be this easy.
"Of course not!" Balin said, proving her doubtfulness to be true. "That is only the beginning of the Misty Mountains, and we have got to get through, or over, or under those somehow, before we can come into Wilderland beyond. And it is a deal of a way even from the other side of them to the Lonely Mountain in the East where Smaug lies on our treasure."
After a long while, it was Gandalf who led the way. "We must not miss the road, or we shall be done for," he said. "We need food, for one thing, and rest in reasonable safety – also it is very necessary to tackle the Misty Mountains by the proper path, or else you will get lost in them, and have to come back and start at the beginning again (if you ever get back at all)."
"So where exactly are we headed for?" asked Kili from atop his pony.
"You are come to the very edge of the Wild, as some of you may know. Hidden somewhere ahead of us is the fair valley of Rivendell where Elrond lives in the Last Homely House. I sent a message by my friends, and we are expected."
That sounded nice and all to Bella, but they had not got there yet, and it was not so easy as it sounds to find the Last Homely House west of the Mountains. There seemed to be no trees and no valleys and no hills to break the ground in front of them, only one vast slope going slowly up to meet the feet of the nearest mountain, a wide land the color of heather and crumbling rock, with patches and slashes of green grass showing where water might be.
Morning passed, afternoon came; but in all the silent waster there was no sign of any dwelling. They were growing anxious, for they saw now that the house might be hidden almost anywhere between them and the mountains. They came on unexpected valleys, narrow with steep sides that opened suddenly at their feet and they looked down surprised to see trees below them and running water at the bottom. There were gullies that they could almost leap over, but very deep waterfalls in them. There were dark ravines that one could neither jump over nor climb into.
For a long time they travelled down a white stone path, and Bella grew bored as they past field upon field of flowers. Eventually they entered the woods and the light began to dim as the sun set. Bella's pony began to trip and stumble over the roots until finally her pony smashed into the earth, sending her flying over its head. As she hit the ground, she let out a gasp as she landed on roots. None of the dwarves noticed since she was a bit further behind. Standing up with a wince (knowing she'd receive bruises from that tumble) she decided to walk on foot and lead her pony the rest of the way.
After a long while, they came to a cliff edge. "Here it is at last!" he called, and the others began to gather around him. They saw a valley far below and could hear the voice of hurrying water in a rocky bed at the bottom. The scent of trees was in the air; and there was a light on the valley-side across the water. It was then that Ori noticed Bella wasn't on her pony.
"What are you doing off of you pony, Bella?" Ori said, looking at her strangely. All the dwarves heads turned and took note of a few small scratched along her face and dirt on her clothes.
Blushing a bit, she said: "My poor pony is closer to the ground then yours, and she was tripping on all the roots until she finally fell over and unseated me. I'm just going to lead her for the rest of the way."
Some of the dwarves snickered at this, but Thorin silenced them with a glare. "Are you hurt?"
Bella shook her head. "No, just a little bruising."
Gandalf looked between them quizzically with a twinkle igniting in his eyes. "I'm afraid my dear Bella that you cannot walk to Rivendell on your own. We must go down this here path and it is too steep for any of us. Horses are required to maneuver safely down."
"She may ride with me," Thorin said, dismounting from his pony before anyone could say anything. He approached her, purposely avoiding her questioning glance, as he tied her pony to the back of his, before mounting his steed. Finally looking down at her with his icy blue eyes, he held out a hand to help swing her on to the back of the saddle. Placing her tiny hand in his warm one, she reveled at the contact as he swung her up into the saddle behind him. When she was firmly seated behind him, they all set out down the slopes. It didn't escape her attention that many of the dwarves sent questioning looks at the dwarf king, nor did she miss the sly, knowing smiles that Fili and Kili wore.
A question popped into her mind, and she knew that she had to ask it. "Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden? I thought you hated me."
Thorin stiffened slightly, before he let out a sigh. "I – uh – apologize for my behavior during the beginning of the journey. You might say that I was concerned about having you come along, not knowing who you were, and the fact that you are a woman. I underestimated you greatly, and I saw that during the bravery you showed when captured by the dwarves."
Bella was shocked, and was silent for a few moments. "So does this mean things will be different from now on?"
A slight chuckle escaped from Thorin. "Oh yes. The other dwarves are excited to finally get to welcome you as officially apart of the company."
They came to a particularly steep part of the path, and the ponies simply slid down for a couple of seconds. When that happened, Bella reached out and wrapped around Thorin, scared to fall off the pony and off the cliff. Another laugh came from him, which entranced Bella. She loved the sound of his laugh, deep and beautiful. She wanted him to laugh more. "You better hang on," he said as the pony continued to slide down the steep part of the path.
"Ha ha," she said sarcastically, but hung on none the less. Secretly, she loved the feeling of having her arms wrapped around him, and his warmth pressed up against her. It was at this moment that she realized she was falling in love with the King under the Mountain.
Eventually they hear a song being sung in the distance:
O! What are you doing,
And where are you going?
Your ponies need shoeing!
The river is flowing!
O! tra-la-la-lally
here down in the valley!
O! What are you seeking,
And where are you making?
The faggots are reeking,
The bannocks are baking!
O! tril-lil-lil-lolly
the valley is jolly,
ha! ha!
O! Where are you going
With beards all a-wagging?
No knowing, no knowing
What brings Misses Baggins,
And Balin and Dwalin
down into the valley
in June
ha! ha!
O! Will you be staying,
Or will you be flying?
Your ponies are straying!
The daylight is dying!
To fly would be folly,
To stay would be jolly
And listen and hark
Till the end of the dark
to our tune
ha! ha!
Soon they caught glimpses of the elves. Bella had met an elf or two before, but very seldom. Dwarves don't get on well with them. Even decent enough dwarves like the company think them foolish, or get annoyed with them. For some elves tease them and laugh at them, and most of all at their beards.
"Well, well!" said a voice. "Just look! Bella the hobbit on a pony, my dear! Isn't it delicious!"
"Most astonishing wonderful!"
Then off they went into another song as ridiculous as the one prior. At last, a tall young fellow came out from the trees and bowed to Gandalf and to Thorin.
"Welcome to the valley!" he said.
"Thank you," Thorin said, albeit gruffly. Gandalf was already off his horse and among the elves, talking merrily with them.
"You are a little out of the way," said the elf, "that is, if you are making for the only path across the water and to the house beyond. We will set you right, but you had best get on foot, until you are over the bridge. Are you going to stay a bit and sing with us, or will you go straight on? Supper is preparing over there," he said. I can smell the wood-fires for the cooking."
Tired as she was, Bella wouldn't have minded staying for a while. Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars, not if you care for such things. Also she would have liked to have a few private words with these people that seemed to know her name and all about her, although she had never seen them before. She thought their opinion of her adventure might be interesting. Elves know a lot and are wondrous folk for news, and know what is going among the peoples of the land, as quick as water flows, or quicker.
But the dwarves were all for supper as soon as possible just then, and would not stay. On they all went, leading their ponies, till they were brought to a good path and so at last to the very brink of the river. It was flowing fast and noisily, as mountain-streams do a summer evening, when sun has been all day on the snow far above. There was only a narrow bridge of stone without a parapet, as narrow as a pony could well walk on; and over they had to go, slow and careful, one by one, each leading his (or her) pony by the bridle. The elves had brought bright lanterns to the shore, and they sang a merry song as the party went across.
At last they all came to the Last Homely House, and found its doors flung wide.
Now it is a strange thing, but things that are good to have and days that are good to spend are soon told about, and not much to listen to; while things that are uncomfortable, palpitating, and even gruesome, may make a good tale, and take a deal of telling anyway. They stayed long in that good house, fourteen days at least, and they found it hard to leave. Bella didn't get to speak with Thorin much at all during their stay, and she was eager to once again be on the road.
The master of the house was an elf-friend – one of those people whose fathers came into the strange stories before the beginning of history, the wars of the evil goblins and the elves and the first men in the North. In those days of our tale there were still some people who had been both elves and heroes of the North for ancestors, and Elrond the master of the house was their chief.
He was as noble and as fair in face as an elf-lord, as strong as a warrior, as wise as a wizard, as venerable as a king of dwarves, and as kind as summer. He comes into many tales, but in this adventure his importance is only small. His house was perfect, whether you liked food, or sleep, or work, or story-telling, or singing, or just sitting and thinking beset, or a pleasant mixture of them all. Evil things did not come into that valley.
All of the company (even the ponies) grew refreshed and strong in just a few days there. Their clothes were mended, as well as their bruises, their tempers and their hopes. Their bags were filled with food and provisions light to carry. Their plans were improved with the best advice. So the time came to Midsummer Eve, and they were to go on again with the early sun on midsummer morning.
Elrond knew all about runes of every kind. That day he looked at the swords they had brought from the troll's lair, and he said: "These are no troll-make. They are old sword, very old swords of the High Elves of the West, my kin. They were made in Gondolin for Goblin-wars. They must have come from a dragon's hoard or goblin plunder, for dragons and goblins destroyed that city many ages ago. This, Thorin, the runes name Orcrist, the Goblin-cleaver in the ancient tongue of Gondolin; it was a famous blade. This, Gandalf, was Glamdring, Foe-hammer that the king of Gondolin once wore. Keep them well!"
"Whence did the trolls get them, I wonder?" said Thorin, looking at his sword with new interest.
"I could not say," said Elrond, "but one may guess that your trolls had plundered other plunderers, or come on the remnants of old robberies in some hold in the mountains. I have heard that there are still forgotten treasures of old to be found in the deserted caverns of the mines of Moria, since the dwarf and goblin war."
Thorin pondered these words. "I will keep this sword in honor," he said. "May it soon cleave goblins once again."
"A wish that is likely to be granted soon enough in the mountains!" said Elrond. "But show me now your map!"
He took it and gazed long at it, and he shook his head; for if he did not altogether approve of dwarves and their love for gold, he hated dragons and their cruel wickedness, and he grieved to remember the ruin of the town of Dale and its merry bells, and the burned banks of the bright River Running. The moon was shining in a bright crescent. He held up the map and the white light shone through it. "What is this?" he said. "There are moon-letters here beside the plain ruins which say 'five feet high the door and three may walk abreast.'"
"What are moon-letters?" Bella asked, intrigued since she had never heard of them before.
"Moon-letters are rune-letters, but you cannot see them," said Elrond, "not when you look straight at them. They can only be seen when the moon shines behind them, and what is more, with the more cunning sort it must be a moon of the same shape and season as the day when they were written. The dwarves invented them and wrote them with silver pens, as your friends could tell you. These must have been written on a Midsummer's Eve in a crescent moon a long while ago."
"What do they say?" asked Gandalf and Thorin together, a bit vexed perhaps that even Elrond should have found this out first, though really there had not been a chance before, and there would not have been another until goodness knows when.
"Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks," read Elrond, "and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the key hole."
"Durin!" said Thorin. "He was the father of the fathers of the eldest race of Dwarves, the Longbeards, and my first ancestor: I am his heir. Durin's Day is the first day of the dwarves' New Year. It is the last moon of Autumn on the threshold of Winter. But this will not help us much, I fear, for it passes our skill in these days to guess when such a time will come again."
"That remains to be seen," said Gandalf. "Is there any more writing?"
"None to be seen by this moon," said Elrond, and he gave the map back to Thorin; and they went down to the water to see the elves dance and sing upon the Midsummer's Ever.
The next morning they set out, each atop their own ponies as they rode away. The sky was a beautiful blue without a cloud, and the sun danced along the water. Now they rode away amid songs of farewell and good speed, with their hearts ready for more adventure, and with knowledge of the road they must follow over the Misty Mountains to the land beyond.