That's Another Story For Later

Misty Mountains

*Hey guys! I have wifi for a few days so here we are for the next installment!*

When the door opened, Thorin stood there. He entered, a dark expression on his face almost. He smiled slightly at the wizard.

"Gandalf. I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way twice. I wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door." He glanced my way, and smiled slightly. "Nice to see you here, Iridian." I nodded in return, leaving everyone glancing at me for a moment, before turning back to the matter at hand.

"Mark? there's no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago." Bilbo interrupted, his voice rising in pitch.

"There is a mark; I put it there myself. Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield." Kili and I had moved to behind Thorin, watching in interest and curiosity at the interaction. Kili's expression was clearly deep in concentration. What was his relation to Thorin?

"So, this is the Hobbit. Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?" Thorin began to question, smirking lightly, circling around Bilbo, surveying him.

"Pardon me?" Bilbo asked, as though he'd heard it wrong.

"Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?" He continued as though he didn't hear him.

"Well I have some skill at Conkers, if you must know, but I fail to see why that's relevant."

"Thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." Everyone laughed at the comment, and we all came back to the dining room. A plate of food was handed to Thorin. As he ate, the rest of the dwarves began to speak.

"What news from the meeting at Ered Luin? Did they all come?" Balin started.

"Aye. Envoys of all seven kingdoms." A murmur fell through in approvement.

"What do the dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?" Dwalin said. He knew about this?

"They will not come. They say this quest is ours, and ours alone." The dwarves muttered from disappointment.

"You're going on a quest?" Bilbo said.

"Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light." Gandalf said, and he scurried off. When he came back, a candle in hand, Gandalf had spread a map out that was in his pocket. "Far to the East, over ranges and rivers. Beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak."

"The Lonely Mountain." Bilbo interjected.

"Aye. Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time." An unfamiliar dwarf said with a great orange beard. Kili and Fili held similar somber looks. I probably looked like a fool. My eyes were widened and I was fascinated with the tales and what was being told.

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold: When the birds of old return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end." Upon hearing the word 'beast," Bilbo's eyes furrowed in concern.

"What beast?"

"Well that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals."

"Yes I know what I dragon is." Bilbo responded irritably.

Ori stood up, and he piped out in a squeaky voice, "I'm not afraid. I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of the Dwarvish iron right up his jacksy."

"Sit down!" The fussy haired dwarf scolded. Balin started to speak again.

"The task will be difficult enough with an army behind us. But we number thirteen. Not thirteen of the best, nor brightest."