~ three ~

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"Wow, I can't believe I'm finally meeting the famous Bilbo Baggins," I joked

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"Wow, I can't believe I'm finally meeting the famous Bilbo Baggins," I joked.

"Your parents were truly amazing people. They were the only friends I had." He seemed to get choked up as those words escaped his mouth.

"Bilbo?"

"Yes, Adina?"

"Are my parents...gone?" I asked uneasily. Deep down, I didn't really want to know the answer.

"No, not that I know of at least. I don't know where they are, which frightens me even more," he sighed. A moment of silence fell between us. I could tell that we both were thinking about where they might be. "They were uh, they are good people. That's for sure. I miss them," he said shortly.

"I wish I knew them well enough to miss them that much. Every time they would come home from some new, bizarre quest they would tell me all about it with immaculate details. I would listen for hours. The only thing is, they would pack up immediately after to go find another. They never stayed. I didn't know them, I only knew their adventures," I explained. A burning sensation developed in my heart.

"You know that when you were very little I was told to watch over you? Up until you could pretty much handle yourself. I was always asked to keep track of you. But you pretty much grew up on your own. I take no credit in that. That was all you," he chuckled.

"Really? I always knew I had someone watching over me. I never knew it would take me this long to finally meet them," I said with a smile. We talked for hours, riding through the endless forest. Bilbo told me everything about my parents. He told me how they loved me too much to endanger me, even if that meant that I had to grow up alone. I still couldn't find forgiveness for leaving me behind every day, but I did find a slight amount of understanding. If you love something, you make sacrifices. I just believed it wasn't fair to me. I began to realize that I knew Bilbo better than I knew my mother and father.

After hours and hours of watching endless trees pass by, we found a place to camp out for the night. We settled near a mountain ledge with forest behind it. Two dwarves were in charge of making a fire, which they did swiftly. We propped ourselves down next to the fire to keep warm from the cool evening. My conversation with Bilbo continued.

"You remind me so much of your parents. It seems to me you have the heart of a fighter," Bilbo said with the faint fire flickering in his hazel eyes. I nodded my head and smiled. At that point, I wasn't even sure how to respond to any of the information about my parents. I just didn't know what to think of them. I kept wanting to forgive them, but I knew I couldn't.

In the distance, we suddenly heard terrible screams that awoke some of the dwarves. They pierced through the crisp night air and rang through the mountains. My eyes widened and my heart began to pick up its pace.

"What could that have possibly have been?" I asked, trying not to let my voice shake.

"Those, my dear, would be orcs," a dwarf named Balin said. He was an older dwarf with a long, snowy white beard. His eyes showed me he had gathered much wisdom through his years. "They have been hunting us from the moment we began this journey. They are murderous creatures that show no mercy."

I couldn't move my eyes away from the direction the noise was coming from, but I couldn't show that I was afraid. These dwarves seemed to be risking their lives and I just decided to follow suit.

"Why are they after us?" I asked.

"A long time ago. We had a home," Balin started. "Our kingdom was powerful through the rule of Thorin's grandfather, Thror. We dwarves mined the mountain that we lived within. One day, a dwarf found the heart of the mountain when mining. A beautiful, mesmerizing piece of stone that was given the name the Arkenstone. At the time, the elves and us dwarves lived in peace, but it didn't last much longer. The elves claimed that we robbed the jewels from their land, but we knew our king would do nothing of the kind. One day, a fierce dragon attacked our home. The whole kingdom erupted in chaos. When we turned to the elves for help, they dismissed us. Thranduil, the elf king, claimed he didn't want to risk the lives of his people. Our kingdom was no more, and the Arkenstone was lost. Dwarves and elves do not associate with each other to this day because of that very reason. After the dragon incident, Thror tried the reclaim the dwarf kingdom of Moria, which had been overrun by orcs. The orc leader, Azog, desired to wipe out the entire Durin bloodline. He began by beheading the king, Thror. Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven into mad grief and disappeared. Thorin's rage grew and he decided to take on the orc king himself. He wielded nothing more than an oaken branch as a shield. Thorin continued to fight until he cut off the arm of Azog with the swing of a stray sword he so luckily found. Azog learned that day that the Durin family would not perish so easily. We defeated our enemy that day, but there was no celebration. There were only a few of us left, hardly enough to throw a party I'd say. We looked to Thorin as our king and that's where our quest began. Thorin believes that if we claim the Arkenstone again, only then we can bring the dwarf kingdoms together again. Although we do have a rather long way to go."

"What happened to Azog?" asked Bilbo.

"He died of his injuries long ago," Thorin answered, startling the dwarves he stood behind.

Silence fell across the group for several moments until everyone eventually returned to what they were doing before Balin began the story. "So, tell me," I mumbled quietly, trying to change the harsh topic. "What are the names of our vicious warriors?" I asked looking to Bofur. I propped myself against a boulder.

"Well, going from left to right, we have Thorin, Dwalin, Balin, Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bombur, Fili, and Kili," Bofur explained. My eyes studied each dwarf, noticing unique characteristics to apply to each. My eyes traveled down the row until I reached the end. I met eyes with the last dwarf, the one they called Kili. He had broad shoulders and strong arms and legs just as the others did. His eyes were a deep brown with the flickering of fire glowing within. They were slightly hidden by the bangs that covered his forehead. His hair was long and dark but unlike the others, he had a very minimal beard, making his face young and somewhat innocent. He flashed a shy smile. It was a smile so pure that you couldn't help but return it.

𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐈𝐂 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 // 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘪 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯Where stories live. Discover now