Suddenly there was a knock on the door.
Strange, everyone seemed to already be here. "Kili, open the door. Quickly" Gandalf urged. He looked tense. I opened the door and peered outside. Standing there was a great black wolf.
Little smaller than a...
The journey was long and tiring, and I could feel my bones aching from the long ride, but I would do it a thousand times over for my uncle. He was not just my king; he was the closest thing to a father I had ever known.
As a prince of the house of Durin, I had had a sense of responsibility my entire life, although my position afforded me much more freedom than my brother. He would become king one day. He was the warrior. I however, had the luxury of being a little more reckless and carefree.
We had grown up with stories of the Mountain. Tales of the prosperity our people had enjoyed. The riches that lay in the kingdom of Erebor, and the vow of our kin to one day retake our home. Now we had the honour of helping to fulfil that vow. The idea filled me with immense pride.
I was ready to face the responsibility.
My brother and I were riding along through the green fields of the Shire. We had been told where the place was where we would meet the others. There was to be a blue rune on a green door. The house of a young hobbit.
The little town was peaceful. A joyous atmosphere could be felt from a mile away. It immediately filled me with a sense of calm.
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As we rode on, I kept glancing at my older brother. I was struck by just how different we looked. Were we not as inseparable as we were, I doubt anyone would see the resemblance and call us family. Fili had long caramel coloured, and steely blue eyes.
I, on the other hand, had shoulder-length dark brown hair and dark eyes.
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Finally we saw one little hobbit hole that had a blue mark on it, shaped like an F. The dwarvish rune for thief. Our sign, left by the wizard. We dismounted and led the ponies to a sheltered place under some trees. I noticed that there were already two ponies standing there.
