Dragon Changer (a Hobbit fanfic)

Final Recruitment

I walked into the room and was instantly seated and served with food. Starving, I dug in right away. One of the dwarves, Dwalin I think, asked if there was any news from the Iron Hills. Nice place and all, but the dwarf leader was a little bit of a nut job.

"Did they come?" Was Dwalin's next question. I shook my head, confused. What on Mordor were they talking about?

"Aye." Replied Thorin.

I leaned over to Gandalf. "What are they talking about?" I asked.

"Thorin went to a meeting of his kin." He replied.

"Oh. That explains a lot." I tuned back in to the conversation.

The Dwarves were all sighing and muttering.

"They say this quest is ours, and ours alone." Said Thorin. More muttering from the dwarves.

"Your going on a quest?" Asked Bilbo. I raised my eyebrow. Gandalf hadn't told him yet?

"Bilbo, my dear fellow" Gandalf asked, "let us have a little more light." As Bilbo rushed to get a lamp, Gandalf pulled a map from his pocket and started to open it. "Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wasteland, lies a single solitary peak."

He pointed it out on the map. "The lonely mountain" Bilbo read over his shoulder, now back with the lamp.

"Aye," Said another dwarf. "Oin has read the portents and the portents say it is time." Portents? I frowned. Fortune telling basically. I've never trusted things like that, as they often bring more bad then good.

As Gandalf lit his pipe with a handy bit of fire magic, the a different dwarf with an ear horn continued. "Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold. 'When the birds of yore return to Erebor'" I shivered at the name. "'the reign of the beast will end.'" The dwarf recited.

"What beast?" Bilbo pipped up, back from checking his now empty pantry.

Bofur, a dwarf with a very weird hat spoke up. "That would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible," I flinched this time. It was slight enough that no one really saw it, though I thought I saw Mr.Grumpyandrude glance at me. "chiefest and greatest calamity of our age."

He had all the dwarves attention now. "Airborne fire breather. Teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks. Extremely fond of precious metals." I winced at his description, for it was definitely accurate at describing all dragons.

"Yes, I know what a dragon is." Said Bilbo in a impatient manner.

One of the dwarves at the end of the table stood up. "I'm not afraid. I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of Dwarfish iron right up his jacksie!"

"Sit down!" Said the dwarf right beside him. I leaned over to Gandalf. "Wasn't he the one with a slingshot?" I asked. His laugh was disguised by Balin speaking up.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number just 13. And not 13 of the best, nor brightest." He seemed to say the last part in an undertone, but it did not matter. The other dwarves plainly heard him, as one called out "who are you calling dim?"

The muttering started again. "We may be few in number but we are fighters. All of us. To the last dwarf." Said Fili.

Kili spoke after his brother. "And you forget, we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time."

My spine stiffened slightly as Gandalf stuttered out "oh, well, no. I wouldn't say-"

"How many then?" Asked the one dwarf, who seemed to be the shortest of them all. "How many dragons have you killed?"