Chapters The Hobbit: Third-Age Generation
Chapter One: Off to Middle-Earth
Chapter One: Off to Middle-Earth
While the day had no intention, Sunny Starscout could not help herself but feel quite the spring on her hoofsteps as she made her way about Maretime Bay. She was hoping to catch the pawn shop before it closed for the late afternoon. Most of the ancient Equestrian artifacts were purchased from the establishment from either her or her late father. Today however, she caught ten minutes to closing time.
"Afternoon Reggie," she greeted to the clerk.
Reggie was about the age Argyle would be had he not have died, but unlike his long-passed friend he enjoyed the simplicity of what life had in the moment, and making a quick bit from whatever old junk ponies would pawn off to limit their storage space, or felt like it had no deserving to be thrown out like garbage.
"Cutting it close again, are we Ms. Starscout?" he replied with a humorous smirk.
"Just came to check what's new, that's all."
"Help yourself, like always."
Sunny had no need for time-watching, Reggie did more than enough of that as is. It was five to closing time when her eyes caught a specific book-spine in the back section of the store. It was faded dark-green, and the author's name was greatly unlike the other names of the books surrounding it.
There and Back Again: A Hobbit's Tale ; by Bilbo Baggins.
Sunny was confused, but more intrigued as well. The title was vague enough to do so.
"Hey Reggie," she called.
"Find something?"
She placed the book cover up on the counter. "I'm intrigued by this particular one. The author and title are unfamiliar to me. How much for it?"
Reggie peered through the first few pages, and skimmed the backside. He to was unfamiliar with the book, but while that was mostly true with almost all of his store's contents, he knew each name of the merchandise by heart. Tool of the trade.
"Tell you what. Just this once, you can have it for free."
"Wait really?"
"Take or leave it, it's closing time right now."
"Alright, alright. I'll take it." She packed the book into her saddlebag before hastily departing the shop. "Thanks, and goodbye!"
"Bye!" Reggie called back, before taking out his keys and firmly locking the front doors. What even is a hobbit, he thought to himself. Whatever it is, it sounds perfect for Sunny's inquisitive mind. Just like old Argyle was.
The sun was beginning to wane into an early sunset as Sunny made her way to the lighthouse she called home. The restoration was nearing full completion, all that was needed was a few light touch-ups, being mostly furniture replacement, but she had no trouble sleeping on her living room couch. Even her front door was intact, along with indoor air conditioning and heating systems, not to mention a certain somepony hiding behind the front door.
"HELLO AGAIN!"
Sunny jumped, but laughed it off. Izzy had always been more outward compared to herself, a complete and stark contrast but always enjoyed her company; even if she insisted on staying over with Sunny while the renovation was underway.
"Hey Izzy."
"What'cha got there?"
"Oh this? I just picked it up at the pawn shop."
"There and Back Again, A Hobbit's Tale ; by Bilbo Baggins. Oh, sounds interesting!"
"Yeah, it certainly does," she chuckled. Izzy had a tendency to overplay almost every situation. "Would you like to read it?"
"Oh yes I would! And the others too!"
"Wait, there're here?"
"Uh, yeah! Did you not see the note I left for you?"
"You left a note?"
"Oh, on second thought I may have forgotten to write it. Sorry about that." Izzy then put on that wonderful grin of hers, the one that always breaks Sunny into laughter.
"It's okay! The more the merrier, as the saying goes."
Izzy followed her friend up to the observatory, where the others were heard waiting; mostly from Pipp's most recent livestream, meaning has not ended.
"HI EVERYPONY! GUESS WHO RETURNED!"
Pipp snapped her attention away before quickly closing out the stream and placing her phone on the nearest ledge, her sister more than pleased at hearing the end of it.
"Hey girlfriend, you missed my stream!" she exclaimed.
"Trust me, you did not miss anything," Zipp said, less than enthusiastic.
Hitch was standing under the gargantuan telescope, sipping silently away at his evening coffee. As sheriff, he felt a responsibility at keeping alert at all times, even if it meant having to deal with a never-ending cycle of his caffeine addiction.
"Hey Sunny. I heard you were at the pawn shop," he said calmly. "Anything new?"
"Yes actually," she replied before placing the book onto the hollowed out crystal-shaped table before them.
"What is it?"
"Obviously a book," Zipp sniggered.
"Well I know that!"
"Hey! Why don't we read it?" Pipp suggested, full of excitement. "All of us? You start Sunny."
"Alright then."
She then opened the first few pages and began reading, "My dear Frodo-", however her voice was suddenly overlapped and then drowned by the sound of another more elderly sounding voice.
"You asked me once if I had told you everything there was to know about my...adventures ."
The book then shot upwards, and the observatory view was than transformed from a beautiful sunset to a map, entirely overlapping their surroundings.
"WOAH!" both Izzy and Pipp exclaimed.
"Is this a map of old Equestria?" Zipp asked aloud.
"I don't think so," Sunny replied. "I don't remember dad ever telling about places such as 'Rohan', or 'Mirkwood'."
"I think we have a more pressing matter," Hitch stammered.
He was right. The entire room began violently spinning like a large top, along with a great glow that engulfed every one of the ponies present in the room; before settling to an empty quietness with only the sound of a closing book cover.
"And while I can honestly say I have told you the truth, I may not have told you all of it ."
The voice continued to narrate while the ponies gathered their bearings. Their entire environment was pitch darkness, to which Sunny could only make out a small moving candlelight.
"Where are we?" Hitch gasped after regaining consciousness.
"This might sound crazy, but I think the book sucked us into its story," Sunny pondered aloud.
"Oh!" Izzy exclaimed. "Magic becomes more and more exciting by the minute!"
"How can we be sure of that though?" Hitch questioned.
"I'm old now Frodo. I'm not the same hobbit I once was ."
"I think Sunny's right," Zipp said at last. "Perhaps we'll get to see what a hobbit truly is."
"Another adventure with my big sister and besties? Count me in!" Pipp cried.
It seemed there out loud thinking went unnoticed, because the voice continued without a second's pause.
"I think it is time for you to know...what really happened. It began long ago, in a land far away to the east, the like of which you will not find in the world today ."
Suddenly the stark black became a bright white, before opening up to a riveting and bustling market city filled with strange tall, less hairy, and bipedal creatures going about their business like the ponies were not present.
"What are they, and can they see us?" Hitch wondered aloud.
"I'm not sure, but I think this is the story's exposition. The prologue, therefore I don't think so," Sunny suggested.
Izzy then stuck her purpled hoof out to a small child running, only for it to pass through the little boy like it was mist. "Yep, they can neither see nor hear us. Otherwise they would have said something about us."
"There was the city of Dale ," the voice continued. "It's markets known and wide, full of the bounties of fine and vale, peaceful and prosperous ."
While the ponies had no choice but to watch as the creatures go about their business, there was many things about the city that warmed them. Maybe it was how every movement made by either the playful children or friendly marketers that felt...felt like home. Suddenly, and without warning, they were lifted from their hooves high above Dale.
"Woah," Hitch gasped. "Are we flying?"
"No idea," Zipp replied.
It was like they were flying in a great glass elevator, and their final destination was a large structure hewed into the mountainside itself: a great gate of green stone carved from the rock surrounded by two ginormous statues of bearded beings, though seeming different than the city's inhabitants.
"For this city lay before the doors of the greatest kingdom in Middle-Earth-Erebor. Stronghold of Thror, King under the Mountain, mightiest of the dwarf-lords ."
"A kingdom of dwarves? I've never heard of dwarves before, and this world is called 'Middle-Earth'?" Zipp surmised.
"Never mind that, look at how pretty the place looks!" Pipp gasped.
The other ponies were looking a row of armored dwarves, no doubt guarding the front wall, holding aloft their weapons before a short, gray-bearded, and royally garbed dwarf being followed by a younger looking dwarf.
"He must be King Thror," Sunny said.
Suddenly, they were teleported to what looked like the throne room, or more accurately the throne pedestal: it was situated in a great cavernous opening, and right underneath a gold-streamed stalactite. "Thror ruled with utter surety, never doubting his house would endure within the lives of his son, and grandson ."
Beside Thror on his throne was the younger looking dwarf from before, no doubt his son, and a more younger looking dwarf this time with black hair and a smaller beard. The pegasus sisters could not help but feel a sense of familiarity with how the kingdom shared similarities with Zephyr Heights, and Hitch felt like Dale was in more ways than one a representation of his own town of Maretime Bay.
"Ah, Frodo. Erebor ." The voice this time carried a deep sensation of awe and wonderment. "Built deep within the mountain itself, the beauty of this fortress city was legend. "
They were then taken on a guided tour of some kind through the cavernous halls of the kingdom, though they would have liked some breathing room and free will to explore the place in all its fullest.
"Its wealth lay in the earth, in precious gems hewn from rock and in great seams of gold, running like rives through stone. "
They were then taken past dwarves on workbenches analyzing the vast amounts of raw jewels at their fingertips. Hitch was impressed with their skills, while Izzy and Pipp were more taken in at the jaw-dropping rocks themselves. After that, they were shown the mines below the kingdom where mining dwarves worked hard and long from pulley systems and candlelit helmets for light digging away for more ores. In an instant, they were shown a set of dwarvish blacksmiths pounding away on an anvil, while another one held aloft a glowing object, only to be pounded from two giant overhead swinging hammers. The dwarf did not flinch.
"Amazing," Zipp marveled at their skills of craftsmanship.
"The skill of the dwarves was unequaled, fashioning objects of great beauty out of diamond, emerald, ruby, and sapphire ."
They were then transported back down to the depths of the mines, focusing on one particular miner chipping away at some stone.
"Ever they delved deeper, down into the dark...and that is where they found it."
He then removed some loose stone before gazing at the marvel of his found: a small stone shining like the morning light, its beauty unrivaled by anything in existence.
"What is it?" Pipp gazed.
"The heart of the mountain ," the voice continued, almost sounding like he was answering her question. "The Arkenstone."
"The Arkenstone," Sunny breathed. She could not admit that it was alike the world she knew, and the others wholeheartedly agreed.
"Thror named it the 'King's Jewel' ." They were now back at the throne where the Arkenstone was now mounted right above where King Thror was seated. "He took it as a sign, a sign that his right to rule was divine. All would pay homage to him ."
Suddenly a host of more unfamiliar creatures approached them from behind. There at the same height as those of Dale, but looked more fairer, wise, and enchanting. Clad in great robes of gray silver, their leader had himself a headdress of woven twigs along his flowing white hair. They also all had pointy ears.
"Even the great Elvenking, Thranduil ."
"Elves?" Sunny wondered.
Another bearded dwarf stood before King Thror, and opened a chest of shining white jewels, to which Thranduil slowly approached.
"As the great wealth of the dwarves grew, their store of goodwill ran thin. "
They could practically see the glowing jewels in Thranduils eyes, and the wonder to match.
"No one knows exactly what began the rift. "
As Thranduil reached his hand, the chest's lid was promptly and swiftly shut with a loud bang, much to Thror's amusement and Thranduil's anger.
"The elves say the dwarves stole their treasure, the dwarves tell another tale: they say the elves refused to give them their rightful pay."
"That's not fair!" Izzy exclaimed.
"That's greed for you," Hitch sighed with much annoyance.
"It is sad Frodo how old alliances can be broken, how friendships between peoples can be lost. And for what? " The voice quietly scoffed.
Sunny too felt it right in her heart: the breaking of the dwarf and elf alliance sounded way to similar to the parting of the three pony tribes.
"Slowly the days turned sour, and the watchful night closed in. "
They were then brought to a vast room filled to each side of all things that glittered with gold, with little pathways cutting through the great stacks, and King Thror overlooking all around him with a diseased smile and glint in his eyes.
"Thror's love of gold had grown top fierce. A sickness had begun to grown within him. It was a sickness of the mind, and where sickness thrives, bad things will follow. "
The ponies were once again overlooking the city of Dale, specifically where some children were flying their kites, one of which was modeled after what looked like a dragon. Suddenly, a great gust of wind came ripping through the trees, bringing with it a call to arms.
"The first they heard was a noise like a hurricane, coming down from the north. The pines on the mountain creaked and cracked in the hot dry wind. "
The younger dwarf prince was standing with the guards at the front gate, alongside what looked to be a warrior dwarf about the age of his father.
"Balin," he cried. "Sound the alarm. Call out the guard, do it now!"
"What is it?" Balin repsonded.
"Dragon," the prince replied, before calling back into the halls of Erebor. "DRAGON!"
At last the dreaded roar was heard. Many dwarves screamed as the fires opened from above, though the ponies could not yet see the monster in all his fullest they too felt the terror that was coming down upon them.
"He was a fire-drake from the north. "
The prince then grabbed Balin and ducked behind a pillar from a oncoming wave of smoke and fire.
"Smaug had come. "
The dwarves and ponies could only watch helplessly as Smaug laid waste to the city of Dale, not caring for the screaming children or the burning rubble the fell beneath his claws. Smashing through brick laid structures like he was snapping twigs, and burning every street that looked to have the most of the populace.
"Such wanton death was dealt that day, for this city of men was nothing to Smaug. His eye was on another prize. "
Pipp barely had the strength to utter two words, only clinging tightly to her sister as they watched the raining fire lay waste. Zipp swallowed in her throat, before wrapping a wing around her shivering younger sister. Hitch did not want to admit it, but he was shaking all over from his hooves to his tail. Izzy firmly hugged Sunny close, panting greatly into her mane. They then all watched as the remainder of the garrison was armed at the reinforced and shaking front gates, only to catch up with Thror as he hurried to his throne, press a small button, and dash off with the Arkenstone.
"For dragons covet gold with a dark and fierce desire ."
"You coward!" Zipp cried.
"This...this is too horrific," Pipp muttered. Zipp embraced her more, not wanting to hear another fearful sob.
The gates were soon busted wide open. The prince shouted something in what Sunny could only think to be dwarvish, before Smaug smashed his way through the mustered arms like they were harmless toy soldiers, occasionally crushing an unlucky one beneath his great feet. Suddenly, they caught up with Thror as he rushed towards the treasure room, only too late as Smaug began swimming through his newfound wealth, and he lost his grip on the Arkenstone.
"NO!" he cried as it became lost amongst the gold. His grandson had to forcibly drag him to safety.
Finally, the ponies were left to look upon what was left of the smoldering kingdom, and the escaping dwarves filled with fear and dread, knowing that they will have to venture far away from whatever confines used to be their protection; what was now a death sentence to return to.
"Erebor was lost. For a dragon will guard his plunder as long as he lives."
Hitch then looked to the hillside and saw Thranduil before a great host of armed elves.
"Hey look it's the elves! They're here!" he cried.
"Run for your lives!" the prince shouted. "HELP US!" he then cried to the elves.
The ponies watched in anticipation, frozen in place, until to their horror Thranduil turned his host away.
"Thranduil would not risk the lives of his kin against the wrath of the dragon. No help came from the elves that day, or any day since ."
"What?!" Pipp cried, still sniveling through her tears. "How could they?! They just left the dwarves! Just like that! No aid whatsoever! YOU COWARDS!"
"Never mind it," Zipp said. "We can't help it anyway."
The prince too shared her look of angry betrayal. Soon the friends were left to watch the wandering men and dwarf refugees as they scattered the world, sharing nothing but the trail of tears that follows a lost home, the baggage of what little would barely suffice their survival, and the fear of what might or might not come.
"The dwarves of Erebor wandered the wilderness, a once mighty people brought low. The young dwarf prince took work where he could find it, laboring in the villages of men. But always he remembered the mountain-smoke beneath the moon, the trees like torches blazing, for he had seen dragon-fire in the sky, and a city turned to ash. And he never forgave...and he never forgot ."
The ponies' worldview once again became pitch black, but this time they emerged in more humble surroundings: a river running by the bank, a stone path cutting past small homes built into the hillsides with great round doors and small windows as the only indication that a building was there, and the grass: more luscious and green than ever before. More importantly, it felt welcoming. It felt like home.
"That, my dear Frodo, is where I come in. For quite by chance, and the will of a wizard, fate decided I would have a part in this tale. It began...well it began as you might expect. In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole full of worms and oozy smells, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat. This was a hobbit hole, and that means comfort. "
It was hear that voice had finally ended.
The Hobbit: Third-Age Generation
Chapter Two: An Unexpected Party
Chapter Two: An Unexpected Party
The sounds of singing birds and chirping grasshoppers was all that was known to the group in the moment, and it was then that Izzy realized the voice stopped its narration.
"Well, now what?" Hitch asked, to no one in particular.
Like an answer, Izzy picked up a small stone and dropped it cleanly into the flowing river.
"Hey guys," she suggested. "I think our tour's over."
"Well we are we?" Zipp wondered.
Suddenly, just to there right a drunken little man stumbled bare foot out of a pub: "The Green Dragon" it was called.
"Hi!" Izzy called
The little man took one long confused and frightened stare at them before ducking back into the pub, accompanied with the sounds of slow-witted laughter.
"That was weird," Sunny said.
"It doesn't exactly answer my question."
"Well, wherever we are, it sure feels peaceful," Izzy commented.
"I'll feel peaceful once I am rid of that dragon," Pipp mumbled.
"I don't believe that it will uh...that it..." Hitch began.
"Don't you remember what the voice said: 'in a land far to the east'," Sunny spoke.
"That does not rest my mind," Hitch added.
"Hey, who's that?"
Izzy pointed a hoof to a tall-looking man dressed in a gray cloak, matching gray pointed hat, and walking unsuspectingly with a long wooden staff. Sunny felt a vast amount of power invisibly emitting from him, more so it was an overcoming sensation, as well as to blindly follow where his steps led.
"Woah there!" Pipp stopped. "What are you doing? Do you want us to be spotted?"
"We already have been."
"That's besides the point."
"I can't explain it but he feels...friendly. And like I need to follow him."
"Me too!" Izzy chimed in.
"Very well, but watch your step."
The others closely followed Sunny as she closely followed behind the old and gray-bearded stranger. He never looked back, but kept strolling up the hills from the backroads, passing by the hole-houses (hobbit-homes Sunny thought), until he came upon what she figured to be another hobbit: a middle-aged fellow in a bright waistcoat, suspended trousers, white buttoned-down shirt, still no shoes, curly haired, and smoking rings from a long wooden smoking pipe. The old man halted before the hobbit, to whom he looked up to his face, the ponies ducking behind out of sight, but not earshot.
"Good morning," he greeted.
"What do you mean?" the stranger replied. "Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not?"
The hobbit paused his smoking to reply only with utter confusion in his face.
"Or perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning," the old man continued, undaunted. "Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?"
"Weirdo," Pipp hissed.
"All of them at once, I suppose," the hobbit replied, still confused. "Can I help you?"
"That remains to be seen. I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure."
The hobbit simply raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "An adventure?" he amused. "Well I don't imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interests in adventures." He then got up and went to collect his morning mail. "Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner."
"Why does that sound familiar, eh?" Pipp amused, turning to face her sister. Hitch could only laugh from inside.
"Well, good morning," the hobbit said while he made for his door, after checking his mail.
"To think I have lived to have been 'good morninged' by Belladonna Took's son, as if I was selling buttons at the door!" the old man exclaimed, which stopped the hobbit in his tracks.
"Beg your pardon?"
"You've changed, and not entirely for the better Bilbo Baggins," he sighed.
Sunny's eyes lit up. "So that's our Bilbo Baggins," she whispered.
"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Bilbo asked to the visitor.
"Well you know my name, although you don't remember that I belong to it. I'm Gandalf, and Gandalf means...me."
This finally caught Bilbo's attention. "Gandalf? Not Gandalf the wandering wizard who used to make such excellent fireworks?! The Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve! No idea you were still in business!" he chuckled.
Gandalf frowned. "And where else would I be?"
"Where else-?" Bilbo caught his words in his mouth, unsure if what he would have said would be rude.
Gandalf eyed Bilbo as he took a few more whiffs from his pipe. "Well I'm pleased to find you remember something about me, even if it is my fireworks." He then nodded, catching his staff. "Yes, well, it's decided. It'll be good for you, and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others."
Bilbo looked puzzled at first, but once he realized the seriousness it was his turn to stop Gandalf in his tracks. "Inform the who? What? No! No! N...wait! We don't want any adventures here thank you! Not today or...I suggest you try over the hill, or across the water. Good morning!" and he meant it, before hastily rushing to close his front door behind him.
That would have been the end of it, but then Gandalf inscribed some sort of insignia onto the dark green door of Bag End, peered inside the nearest window, before he finally strolled off into the distance.
"What was that all about?" Zipp wondered aloud.
"I believe that was the call to adventure," Sunny replied.
"SHH!" Hitch cried before dragging her back behind the bluff as Bilbo then emerged carrying a fish basket and wearing a blue coat. He looked around, before uneasily heading down the road to the market.
He was abnormally unhappy, especially for being the master of Bag End, though not enough to daunt him from his errand, that being a collection of more fish.
"'Ello Mr. Bilbo!" a hobbit farmer called him over. "'Ere, 'ave a few of me tubers! Nice and firm they are! Just come in from West Farthing!"
"Very impressive Mr. Worrywart," Bilbo hastily replied. "I-I-I don't suppose you've seen a wizard around these parts?"
"Tall fellow," Worrywart replied, "long gray bearded, and pointed hat. Can't say I 'ave."
Bilbo was not really paying much attention to the reply, for he had caught a glimpse of a pointed gray towering above the market stands. Instead, it happed to be a misshapen pillow case on top of another hobbit's laundry. He sighed an uneasy relief, only to catch voices naming him, a slip on the bricks before an accompanied splash beneath the market bridge. He looked over, only to catch the remainder of the ripples before making a beeline for Bag End.
Unfortunately however, a purple-looking pony with a disheveled light-blue mane and tail and a small horn atop her forehead stood right before the door.
"HI NEW FRIEND!" she cried, with the largest smile on her face.
Bilbo stood at a complete loss for words, before turning to see another set of four ponies coming up from the main path, one of which was fully drenched.
"Good night," Bilbo mustered, before he completely blacked out.
When he came to he was sat on a chair in the main entryway of his house. His memories were almost all passing blurs: he was sat outside his house smoking when Gandalf appeared with the offer of an adventure, then he retreated back inside while hearing something clawing against the wood, after which he ventured to the market to collect some fish, and finally coming face-to-face with a purplish pony. It sounded foolish the more he focused on it, until his ears finally caught the sounds of voices.
"Sorry about Izzy, she's just like that," a female voice said. "Are you alright?"
"Sure he is, but what about me?!" another voice cried, also female. "I'm completely soaked!"
"Oh you'll get over it," another voice groaned.
At last his vision cleared up, only for the focus to be an orangish pony with a braided magenta mane staring back at him. Immediately he jumped and rushed backwards in shock, only to trip on his back after colliding and falling over a yellow furred and turquoise maned pony, this time male.
"Now, now take it easy," the first pony calmed.
"Who are you?" Bilbo stammered. "And what are you all d-doing in m-m-my house?"
"Well you just fainted, and your house was the nearest."
Bilbo still remained in silent shock.
"My apologies," the pony stallion began. "Sorry about all this business. First of all, we can talk and understand languages, and second let me introduce us. I'm Hitch Trailblazer, this is Sunny Starscout, the pegasi are sisters Zipp Storm and Pipp Petals, and the unicorn is Izzy Moonbow."
Now that his visitors introduce themselves, Bilbo began to ease his tension. "Bilbo Baggins, and welcome to Bag End. Pleasure to meet you all."
"The pleasure is ours Bilbo Baggins," Zipp bowed, followed by a still-dripping wet Pipp.
"Do you have a towel?" she asked between spits of excess water.
"Wha-? Oh, yes. Yes, just a minute," Bilbo replied before heading off. He soon returned carrying his spare shower-towel wrapped in his right arm. "So uh, where from what brings such fine equines to Bag End?"
"It's a long story but-" Hitch was soon interrupted by a rumble from his stomach. "It's been a long day."
"That's uh, understandable, I think. But, as long as your all here, make yourselves at home. Never let it be said that a Baggins doesn't treat his guests well."
"Well, you're quite the gentlepony...uh, hobbit, aren't you?" Zipp complimented, also hungry. "You live here on your own?"
"I inherited it after my both my parents died, but honestly the Bagginses have always preferred the quiet life. My pantry's just this way, we can talk over dinner."
Bilbo hung his coat on the nearby rack before waltzing behind the ponies to the dining area. He grabbed the freshly bought fish and began to heat up his stove, while the others scoured the more than vast pantry of Bag End.
"This is just like the pantry back home Zipp!" Pipp exclaimed.
Hitch's gaze on a fully covered slab of pork meat, his anxiety growing at Pipp's more than unsavory exclamation. The ponies all grabbed plates of fruits and vegetables.
"So what's it like?" Bilbo asked.
"Hm?"
"Your home."
"Oh it's wonderful, Bilbo! You must see it all someday!"
"Well, we come from a land known as Equestria," Sunny explained through bites of pear. "Following a thousand or so years, the three pony tribes split into each of their own isolated culture. Hitch and I grew up with the earth-ponies in Maretime Bay: a seaside town-"
"Where I'm the town sheriff!" Hitch beamed. Bilbo looked to his guest, and humbled his hubris.
"We have a sheriff here to you know."
Izzy caught his joke while laughing away before explaining about her home in Briddlewood, and how one simple balloon tied letter led her to Maretime Bay where she first met Sunny, and by extent Hitch. Zipp then talked about how she and Pipp were raised in the royal family in the pegasi populace of Zephyr Heights, and how them and their mother, Queen Haven, lied to the population by faking their abilities to fly; having lost the magic of flight long ago.
"-but after meeting the others, and various hijinks, we brought back the magic to our world."
"Your world has magic?" Bilbo inquired, quite curious.
"You mean to say this place has magic too?!" Sunny blurted.
"Woah, hey now! I only know the one wizard."
"You mean-" Sunny quickly silenced Izzy before she was close again to spilling beans, this time metaphorically.
"So, how'd you all end up this side of the Shire?"
"Is that where we are?"
"The town of Hobbiton, in the land of the Shire. Home of the hobbits, but how'd you all end up on my doorstep exactly?"
"Well, you see I was exploring the town pawn shop just before closing time and I happen to come across this rather interesting looking book titled There and Back Again, a Hobbit's Tale by one Bilbo Baggins. One thing led to another and the book itself transported us here."
Bilbo had just finished sizzling his fish and had sat down to season. "There and Back Again ? Sounds like a good book, though I must confess that it's not at all familiar to me."
"Even if the author's name is Bilbo Baggins?"
"Unless of course there's another hobbit with the same name roaming about the Shier unnoticed," Izzy said through mouthfuls.
"Well, I'm the only Bilbo Baggins I know of, and I've never written a book in my life. Though writing sounds like a good hobby, I've just never had anything to write about."
He was just sprinkling the seasoning on his dinner when he heard the doorbell ring. The others shared his look of confusion.
"Were you expecting anyone else?" Hitch asked.
"No, unless it's who I think it is," Bilbo muttered before heading for the door, followed by Hitch. The visitor turned out not to be the person they expected, but rather a strong-looking bald dwarf, long-brown bearded, dressed in a dark-colored cloak for traveling, and carrying heavy medieval weaponry.
"Dwalin, at your service," the dwarf said, bowing.
"Bilbo Baggins, at yours," Bilbo replied, regaining his manners in his composure.
"Hitch Trailblazer, sir," Hitch added, doing likewise. "Do uh, do we know each other?"
Dwalin ducked under the doorframe while entering, eyes fixated on the little stallion beside the his little host. "No," he replied gruffly and bluntly.
"Which way, laddie? Is it down here?"
Hitch just managed to catch Dwalin's as he tossed it back, only by his head and not his hooves.
"Is what down where?" Bilbo replied, befuddled.
"Supper. He said there'd be food, and lots of it."
"He said? Who said?" All the inquiries with the dwarf were only making Bilbo and his other guests more puzzled by the minute, not coupled with how Dwalin never once gave a straight forward answer about anything. He gave only a simple, "Ladies," before sitting himself in Bilbo's and chair and eating away at his just prepared meal, being with his knuckled hands and without Tupperware. Without much thought, Bilbo pulled up an extra chair and sat in the silence broken only from Dwalin's eating, as well as the others.
"Very good, this," Dwalin said, mouth full of chomped fish. "Any more?"
"What? Oh, yes, yes," Bilbo replied picking up a nearby plate of bread rolls. He took two for himself while giving the rest to Dwalin, who greedily stuffed them one-by-two. The ponies all cringed in surprise.
"It's just that um...I wasn't expecting anymore company."
Suddenly the doorbell rang again, and instantly everyone but Dwalin turned to face down the hall.
"That'll be the door," Dwalin said at last.
Bilbo begrudgingly answered the door, to yet another waiting dwarf, this time much older with a fully white beard, also more wiser looking.
"Balin, at your service," he answered, also bowing.
"Good evening," Bilbo replied with slight hesitation.
"Yes, yes it is," said his newest visitor. "Though I think it might rain later. Am I late?"
"Late for what?" Bilbo's tolerance was holding on to whatever was left, that being only seven threads. The others were also as confused.
Balin then looked past Bilbo to see Dwalin handling a glass jar of cookies. "Evening brother," he greeted.
"By my beard, you're shorter and wider the last we met!" Dwalin laughed in response.
"Wider, not shorter. Though sharp enough for both of us." And like some unfamiliar greeting tactic after another, they then smacked their foreheads to each other.
"So, you two are brothers?" Sunny asked, although ignored.
"Uh, excuse me? I hate to interrupt, but I'm not entirely sure you're in the right house," Bilbo said, not faring any better.
Soon the dwarves were also rummaging through the pantry, though being less civil and clean about the ordeal; Dwalin was mostly filling a mug.
"It's not that I don't like visitors. I like them as much as the next hobbit, but I do like to know them before the come...visiting. At the very least you could've ask like the others did."
"What's this?" said Dwalin, not registering a hint of the words from his host, and hold a piece of blue cheese.
"I don't know. I think's supposed to be cheese," Balin replied. "It's gone blue."
"It's riddled with mold!" Dwalin exclaimed before tossing it behind him.
"The thing is, I don't know either of you," Bilbo continued.
Izzy then caught it with her magic, or light variation of such, before swallowing it whole without much a second thought.
"Not in the slightest."
"Excuse me!" Hitch cried. "Your host is trying to say something to you, and I think you two are being very rude right now to ignore him!"
That got the dwarves attention. "Thank you," Bilbo said. "I hate to be blunt, but I have to speak my mind. I'm sorry."
"Apology accepted," Balin smiled.
Bilbo and Hitch were left at a loss for words once again, but just then the doorbell rang. They were greeted by this time a pair of dwarf brothers: one with more blondish hair and braded beard, the other black-haired and stubbled.
"Fili," one said.
"and Kili," said the other.
"At your service," they bowed. "You must be Mister Boggins!" Kili greeted.
"Nope, you can't come in!" Hitch said, rushing to close the door. "You've come to the wrong house!"
"Has it been canceled?" Kili said.
"No one told us," Fili added.
"Canceled. No nothing's been canceled."
"That's a relief." The two then barged inside, leaving Hitch to back away annoyance.
"Careful with these. Just had them sharpened," Fili said while tossing his sword and pack to Bilbo, growing more and more impatient to all the unwelcomed guests.
"It's nice this place," Kili complemented. "Did you do it yourself?"
"No it's been in the family for years," Bilbo replied, before becoming flabbergasted at Kili scraping his boots on a small box. "That's my mother's glory box! Can you please not do that?!"
"Fili, Kili. Come on," Dwalin called from the kitchen. "Give us a hand."
By now the other ponies were up on their hooves, and trying unsuccessfully to even register themselves with the dwarves.
"Let's shove this into the hallway," Balin said. "Otherwise, we'll never get everyone in."
"Everyone?!" Bilbo shouted.
"How many more are there?" Hitch added, also growing less tolerant. Soon enough, in fact immediately, the doorbell rang again, much to Bilbo's chagrin.
"Oh, no. No, no there's nobody home!" By now he dropped and shoved off the weapons and packs that had been thrusted onto the hallway floor, while Hitch remained respectfully behind. "Go away and bother somebody else! There are far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is! If this is some clot-head's idea of a joke, I can only say it is in very poor taste."
He opened the door, only for eight dwarves all together to pile right onto his front door mat, grumbling like always, and a certain gray bearded and cloaked wizard standing right behind them looking in.
"Gandalf," Bilbo sighed.
Soon enough, the twelve dwarves, five ponies, and wizard were all clambering through the small hobbit home of Bag End, passing back and forth carrying whatever food was left to the makeshift dining room; Bilbo being the most indignant.
"That's my chicken. And that's my wine! Excuse me!"
Hitch stuck close to Bilbo as much as he could, even when confronting the dwarf with the wine. Bifur his name was, and because of the axe chip in his forehead he was stuck speaking only in Khuzdul: the dwarven language.
"He's got an injury," said another dwarf behind them; Oin he was, the only professed healer.
"You mean the axe in his head," Hitch replied dryly.
"Dead? No, only between his ears. His legs work fine." Oin was also partly deaf without his ear trumpet.
So the ponies were left to fend for themselves when meeting all the new dwarves. Izzy for instance took an amusing liking to Bifur, who tried humorously to speak Khuzdul, and both laughing back to the table.
"A tad excessive, don't you think?" Bilbo said to Bombur, Bifur's cousin and the only decent dwarf cook among the party, also being the heftiest. "Have you got a cheese knife?"
"Cheese knife? He eats it by the block," replied Bofur, Bifur's brother.
Bilbo spent the remainder of his time either close to screaming his top off, or doing so while attempting to keep his him home intact. "That is a book, not a coaster! Put that map down!"
Sunny was engaged in a conversation with Gloin, Oin's brother. He was discussing his family of his wife and son, and laughing at the pony-isms Sunny kept using. Nori seemed to keep to himself, mostly away from Hitch, while his young brother Ori was silently admiring Pipp's physique, while their eldest brother Dori, a rather pessimistic dwarf was handling a tea tray.
"Excuse me? Mr. Gandalf? May I tempt you with a cup of chamomile?"
"Oh, no thank you Dori. A little red wine for me, I think. You might try asking Zipp. I think she would appreciate it," Gandalf replied, pointing to the pegasus in question. Zipp was more than understandably confused, but was thankful to Dori's drink.
"Well, thank you," she said. "But I haven't told you my name, so how in Equestria would you know it?"
Gandalf simply made no reply as he stood from the table, colliding his head with one of Bag End's many overhanging chandeliers, all hobbit sized of course. He payed it no mind, instead he counted off the gathered party, minus Bilbo and himself.
"Fili, Kili...Oin, Gloin...Dwalin, Balin...Bifur, Bofur, Bombur...Dori, Nori...Ori...Sunny, Izzy, Pipp, Zipp, Hitch..."
Bifur than approached and made a gesture with the Khuzdul he spoke.
"Yes you're quite right Bifur. We appear to be one dwarf short."
"He is late, is all," Dwalin said, standing by the frame holding a full mug of ale. "He traveled north to a meeting with our kin. He will come."
Hitch overheard this tidbit, and could only guess who this missing dwarf was, before he was startled once again by Izzy.
"Hey Hitch! I think I've got this Dwarvish thing figured out!" She then spoke sloppily in that Dwarvish. "That means 'How do you do?'"
From the looks on Bifur and Bofur, Hitch could only incline to disagree.
Soon enough, the table was set, full, and stocked with quite literally every ounce of food from Bilbo's not vast enough pantry. The dwarves were delighting themselves with tossing food from one to another.
"Bombur! Catch!" Bofur shouted before tossing an egg right to be caught in Bombur's delightful mouth.
Of the ponies, Izzy was enjoying the most of the dinner, while Hitch shared Bilbo's annoyance and dismay. Zipp even impressed the dwarves by spinning in midair to miss every oncoming scrap of flying food and drink, and landing dry and unscathed. Pipp meanwhile got soaked in the face again, this time from the ale that Oin spit from his eardrum that Dwalin poured. Even Sunny joined in when the dwarves all took a minute to bottoms-up on the ale, with young Ori belching the longest and loudest; Sunny meanwhile plopped her face right into the tomatoes.
Afterwards the dwarves and ponies helped to clear away the dishes, with Bilbo being less than egregious as always.
"Excuse me! That is a doily, not a dishcloth."
"But it's full of holes," Bofur said.
"It's supposed to look like that. It's crochet."
"Oh, and a wonderful game it is. If you got the balls for it."
"I prefer track running," Zipp amused.
"Bebother and confusticate these dwarves!"
"My dear Bilbo, what on earth is the matter?" Gandalf asked.
Bilbo did not drop chagrined state of mind. "What's the matter? I'm surrounded by dwarves. What are they doing here?!"
"Oh, they're quite a merry gathering." Hitch was inclined to say it remains to be seen, but held back. "Once you get used to them."
"I don't want to get used to them! Look at the state of my kitchen! There's mud trailing the carpet! Th-they've pillaged the pantry! I'm not even going to tell you what they've done in the bathroom. They've all but destroyed the plumbing. I just don't understand what they're doing in my house!"
Presently Pipp approached Bilbo, dinner plate in hoof. "I'm sorry to interrupt Bilbo, but what should I do with my plate?"
Suddenly Fili appeared. "'Ere you go Pipp, give it to me."
He then tossed right to Kili like it was a baseball, right passed Gandalf, before being thrown yet again to Bifur at the kitchen sink.
"Excuse me! That is my mother's West Farthing crockery! It's over a hundred years old!" Bilbo cried, helpless to the flying plates above his head, and the drumming of his silverware on the dining table.
"And could you not do that?! You'll blunt them!"
"Oh, d'ya hear that lads?" Bofur chuckled. "He says we'll blunt the knives."
The dwarves then all broke into one of their many songs:
"Kili: Blunt the knives, bend the forks!
Fili: Smash the bottles, and burn the corks!
Dwarf chorus: Chip the glasses and crack the plates... That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"
By now Dwalin began strumming a string instrument, Bofur blowing a wooden flute, and Oin make-shifting with a teapot. Pipp immediately caught with their song, with Hitch bopping to the melody in his chair.
"Chorus: Cut the cloth, tread on the fat! Leave the bones on the bedroom mat! Pour the milk on the pantry floor...! Splash the wine on every door!"
Soon, Izzy's joined the chorus, with Zipp and Sunny doing a sort of pony-styled Irish jig.
"Chorus: Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl! Pound them up with a thumping pole! And when you're finished if they are whole... Send then down the hall to roll!"
By now, Hitch joined the singing chorus, but was mostly marveled at Pipp's smooth and bedazzling movements above the rest, while Balin simply rolled his eyes at their foolishness.
"Chorus: That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"
Bilbo pushed past the crowd in the kitchen, only to find that every plate, bowl, and cup was neatly cleaned and stacked right in the middle kitchen countertop. Even the ponies found it amusing, not so much Bilbo.
Three loud knocks were heard on the door, and the entire room went completely silent.
"He is here," Gandalf said.
This time all the ponies accompanied Bilbo and Gandalf to the door, and on the step was a handsome looking dwarf with black hair and short beard, though some amount of combat seemed to have aged him quickly. The ponies immediately recognized his face, that being the prince of Erebor himself.
"Master Trailblazer," he greeted, not as kindly as Hitch hoped. "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 the mark on the door."
"There's no mark on the door, it was painted a week ago," Bilbo spoke aloud.
"There is a mark, I put there myself," Gandalf replied.
"Ohhhhhhhhh, riiiiiiiiight," Izzy sighed. "Forgot to mention it. Sorry."
Bilbo looked over his shoulder still incredulous, but turned his attention back to the newest, and what looked to be the final visitor.
"Bilbo Baggins, my little ponies," Gandalf introduced. "Allow me to introduce the leader of our company: Thorin Oakenshield."
Thorin then approached Bilbo, only slightly towering over the hobbit. "So...this is the hobbit. Tell me, Master Baggins. Have you done mush fighting?"
Bilbo struggled to keep himself, at least in a believable mindset. "Pardon me?"
"Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?"
"Well, I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know," he replied, trying to draw up on his feet. "But I fail to see how that's relevant."
Thorin raised an eyebrow, while also turning to face Hitch. "Master Trailblazer, how about yourself and your friends? What's your combat experience?"
The best Hitch could think of was the time they stopped a power hungry Sprout from nearly committing war crimes in a giant battle robot of his own likeness, but he figured that would not hold up before the dwarfs.
"Well, as sheriff of my home town, it is my civic duty to uphold the peace and punish the lawbreakers," he answered, almost sounding more haughty than Thorin.
He was impressed, but not by much. "If need be. Thought as much." He turned to face down Bilbo again. The hobbit looks more like a grocer than a burglar." He then turned to where Pipp was finishing her tea, though Thorin's face looked more intimidating when actually looking down at her. "And the ponies...are not much better."
The dwarves chuckled, Izzy as well until Sunny gave her a glare. Soon, all the dwarves, ponies, Gandalf, this time with Thorin were all seated at the table.
"What news from the meeting at Ered Luin?" Balin asked to Thorin. "Did they all come?"
"Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms," Thorin nodded, much to the delight of the other dwarves.
"And what did the dwarves of the Iron Hills say?" Dwalin added. "Is Dain with us?"
"Who's Dain?" Sunny asked.
"Leader of the dwarves in the Iron Hills," Thorin replied, slightly annoyed. "And my cousin, but they will not come."
"If you're saying that he's your cousin, why won't he come?" Izzy asked, not faring a much better look from Thorin.
"They say this quest is ours, and ours alone."
"You're going on a quest?" Zipp added.
Only Bilbo was not seated at the table, to which Gandalf took notice of. "Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light." Bilbo went away to fetch a candle, while Gandalf pulled an old looking map that pictured a mountain. "Far to the east, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak."
Bilbo returned and looked over Gandalf ad Thorin to read the writing above the mountain's sketch, "'the Lonely Mountain.'"
"Aye," Gloin spoke up. "Oin has read the portents, and the portents say, it is time!"
"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as was foretold," Oin added. "'When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast has ended.'"
"Erebor?" Sunny asked.
Thorin looked in her direction. "You've heard of it?"
"Uh...it's a long story," she stammered, looking to see shared faces of her own friends. "More importantly, how did you all know about us?"
"Ah, that would be because of me," Gandalf answered. "I informed them of your coming s o that there wouldn't be any..." he then looked to Izzy "...unnecessary surprises."
Izzy simply smiled, once again oblivious of his meaning.
"That doesn't answer how you knew we'd all be here," Sunny added, incredulous.
"I have my ways, just like how you all know of Erebor and the beast."
"Beast, what beast?" Bilbo asked, growing more uneasy.
"Oh, that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities of Our Age," Bofur explained, not understanding Bilbo's plight, which was starting to be shared with Hitch. "Airborne firebreather. Teeth like razors, claws like meat-hooks. Extremely fond of precious metals."
"Yes I...know what a dragon is thank you," Bilbo said, stopping Bofur before it could get worse.
"I think there used to be an entire civilization in the old days of Equestria," Sunny said aloud.
"What happened to them?" Bofur asked.
"I uh...don't know."
Ori stood up. "I'm not afraid! I'll give 'im a taste of dwarvish iron right up his jacksie!"
The dwarves cheered, notably except Dori. "Sit down!" he hissed.
"The task would be difficult with an army behind us, but we number just thirteen" Balin spoke up. "And not thirteen of the best. Nor brightest."
"'Ere! Who are you calling dim?!" Nori cried.
"We may be few in number," Fili said. "But we're fighters, all of us. To the last dwarf!"
"And you forget, we have a wizard in our company! Gandalf would have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!" Kili said, with more enthusiasm.
Gandalf instead held his hand up in defense. "Oh, well, no. I wouldn't say..."
"How many then?" Zipp asked.
"What?"
"How many dragons have you killed?" Dori added.
Suddenly the room's attention was turned to Gandalf, who sat still and awkwardly smoking through his own pipe.
"Go on. Give us a number!"
The table then erupted in more angry shouts, with the ponies mostly being as overwhelmed as Bilbo.
"ENOUGH!" Thorin shouted, silencing the entire room. "If we have read these signs, do you not think others have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claims what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?!"
His words had stoked a burning fire into the hearts of the dwarves, with himself beaming the brightest. Sunny could now see and understand why he was destined to be king, and he reminded her of the countless stories of Princess Twilight she heard over the years.
"You forget!" Balin interjected. "The front gate is sealed! There is no way into the mountain."
"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true," Gandalf replied, brandishing a worn but silver key.
Thorin's attention was soon turned to Gandalf. "How came you by this?"
"It was given to me by your father. By Thrain. For safekeeping. It is yours now," Gandalf answered passing the key to Thorin, who took great pride with it, but also a hint of remorse was in his eyes
"If there is a key, then there must be a door," Fili wondered aloud.
Gandalf nodded while pointing to some other old-looking text on the map, this time not understandable from the ponies' ends. "These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls."
"There's another way in!" Izzy smiled.
"Well, if we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed."
"Seriously?" Hitch asked.
"I'm afraid so. The answer lies somewhere in this map, and I do not have the skill to find it, but...there are others in Middle-Earth who can."
Thorin's face was overcome with skepticism. Sunny however, beamed with interesting wonder.
"The task I have in mind for you will require a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage." Gandalf looked at Zipp for a moment before turning to Bilbo. "But if we are careful and clever, I believe it can be done."
"That's why we need a burglar!" Ori said.
"And a good one too," Bilbo agreed. "An expert I might imagine."
"And are you?" Gloin asked peering back to his host.
Bilbo had not yet caught the room's reading yet. "Am I what?"
"He said he's an expert! He-hey!" Oin cheered.
"Me?! No, no, no, no, no, no! I'm not a burglar! I've never stolen a thing in my life!"
"Well, I'm afraid I'll have to agree with Mister Baggins," Balin sighed. "He's hardly burglar material."
"That's supposed to be a bad thing?" Hitch asked, not quite on board with the train of thought.
"Aye, the wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves," Dwalin added.
Soon the dwarves were arguing fiercely about Bilbo's merits, with Bilbo agreeing about Dwalin and Balin's remarks, while the ponies were caught between the voices unsure about there position.
Having lost his patience, Gandalf rose. "ENOUGH!" he shouted. His shadow appeared to fill the entire room, silencing the bad-tempered dwarves, while also frightening Pipp into tightly embracing her sister. "IF I SAY BILBO BAGGINS IS A BURGALR, THEN A BURGLAR HE IS!"
And like it never happened, Gandalf sat back down. "Hobbit's are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most, if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives a distinct advantage."
Still greatly ignoring Bilbo's protests he turned to Thorin. "You asked to find a fourteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There is a lot more to him than appearances suggest, and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know!"
He looked down the table to all the watching inquisitive, but some still apprehensive faces. "Including himself," he finished. "You must trust me on this."
Thorin sat a moment in thought before he spoke. "Very well. We will do it your way. Give him the contract."
Balin nodded before taking out a parchment of paper and handing it to a still protesting Bilbo. "It's just the usual. Summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time require, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth."
Thorin turned to Gandalf, still unsure about the potential burglar. "I cannot guarantee his safety," he whispered.
Gandalf nodded. "Understood."
"Nor will I be responsible for his fate."
"Agreed," Gandalf replied, though after slight hesitation.
"Terms: cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding 1/14th share of total profit, if any'," Bilbo read aloud. "Seems fair. 'Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or as a consequence thereof, including but not limited to...lacerations...evisceration?'"
Hitch started going pale in the muzzle as Bilbo turned over a flap, before looking back to the table incredibly incredulous. "'Incineration?!'"
"Oh, aye. He'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye," Bofur nodded.
Bilbo suddenly stopped reading and began uneasily breathing through his mouth.
"You alright there Bilbo?" Zipp asked.
"Yeah," Bilbo replied, though it was easy to see that his face was ready to hurl out whatever remained of his dinner. "Feel a bit faint."
"Think furnace, with wings," Bofur continued, undaunted.
"Air, I...I need air."
"Flash of light, searing pain, then poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash!"
Bilbo looked back to Bofur, very clearly having reached his thread's end. "Nope," he said before fainting away again. This time Hitch also fainted, flat on his back, legs stiff a planks of wood.
"Very helpful, Bofur," Gandalf sighed.
When they both came to, they were sitting by the glowing hearth, sipping at some tea that Pipp prepared.
"Thanks," Hitch said, still feeling slightly ill.
"Are you sure you're alright Bilbo?" Sunny asked. "That's the second time you fainted just today."
"I'll be alright. Just, let me sit quietly for a moment," Bilbo responded.
"You've been sitting quietly for far too long!" Gandalf snapped. "Tell me, when doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you?"
"Don't you think that's maybe a little harsh Gandalf?" Zipp asked.
"You never met him when he was young. I remember a young hobbit who was always running off in search of elves in the woods." The wizard smiled warmly. "Who would stay out late, come home after dark, trailing mud and twigs and fireflies. A young hobbit who would have liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire. The world is not in your books and maps Bilbo. It is out there."
Sunny felt reminded of her childhood: her dad telling her amazing stories, writing up and looking for hours on old maps, and always wondering what was beyond the fields and waters of Maretime Bay. It was like Gandalf knew plenty of their world.
"I can't just go running off into the blue!" Bilbo stated, making his position quite clear. "I am a Baggins...of Bag End."
"You are also a Took."
"What's a 'Took'?" Sunny asked.
"They're a more adventurous family of hobbit's, on my mother's side."
"Did you know that your great-great-great-great uncle Bullroarer Took was so large that he could ride a real horse?"
"Yes," Bilbo sighed.
"Well he could! In the Battle of Greenfields he charged the Goblin ranks. He swung his club so hard that it knocked the Goblin King's head clean off, and it sailed a hundred yards before landing in a rabbit hole! And thus the battle was won, and the game of golf invented at the same time."
"I hope those rabbits were alright," Hitch mumbled.
"Wow!" Zipp amazed. "Never thought golf of all sports would have such a fascinating history."
"I know right?!" Pipp added. "Isn't it cool or what?!"
Bilbo looked over to the ponies, smiling meekly. "I do believe you made that up," Bilbo said to Gandalf.
"Well, all good stories deserve some embellishment," Gandalf smiled, sitting down. "You'll have a tale or two or your own to tell your own when you get back."
Bilbo's smile suddenly became shrewd with uncertainty. "Can you promise that I will come back?"
"No. And if you do, you will not be the same."
Bilbo's gaze left Gandalf's eyes, having made up his mind, however regretful he sounded. "That's what I thought. Sorry Gandalf, I can't sign this. You've got the wrong hobbit."
Bilbo stood up, set his cup on the chair, and walked solemnly towards his bedroom without another word. The ponies remained silent, Hitch most of all.
"Should I talk to him?" Sunny asked Gandalf.
"I appreciate your concern Sunny, but this is a thought that Bilbo must think for on his own. And he can deny it, but he needs this too, more so than he believes."
From the hallway, Balin watched as Bilbo walked towards his bedroom. "Well, it appears we've lost our burglar. Probably for the best. The odds were always against us. What are we? Merchants, miners, tinkers, toy-makers." He then looked to where Bifur and Bombur were, and Izzy approached them holding a small bracelet. Bifur said nothing, and instead took out a small wooden toy horse, smiling at Izzy's childlike amazement.
"Hardly the stuff of legend."
"There are a few warriors amongst us," Thorin smiled.
"Old warriors," Balin corrected, returning the smile.
"I would take each and every one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills. For when I called them, the answered. Loyalty, honor, and a willing heart. I can ask no more of that."
Zipp was overhearing their conversation, and felt a little flattered, even if she was not the subject.
"You don't have to do this," Balin said. "You have a choice. You've done honorably by our people. You have built for us a new life in the Blue Mountains. A life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth...all the gold, in Erebor."
"From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me," Thorin spoke with assuredness, holding he key in his hand. "They dreamt of the day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin, not for me."
Balin stood to Thorin's height. "Then we are with you, laddie."
They then walked into a room with the rest of their kin, and began humming and singing a solemn tune, of loneliness, tragedy, and the sadness of the loss of home. Izzy was still talking with Bifur and Bombur, but respectfully went silent. Hitch and Pipp were the most enchanted as they listened.
"Thorin: Far over the misty mountains cold To dungeons deep and caverns old We must away ere break of day To seek the pale enchanted gold.
"The dwarves of yore made mighty spells, While hammers fell like ringing bells In places deep, where dark things sleep, In hollow halls beneath the fells."
"There's magic in that music," Pipp said.
"And it moves through me," Hitch said.
"You feel the love of beautiful things."
"To go and see the great mountains, and hear the pine trees and the waterfalls..."
"To carry a sword instead of a walking stick."
"Just once...say, how do you do that?"
"What?"
"What you just did. You put the music into words."
"It just comes naturally, I guess. These dwarves sing about missing their homeland, and their longing to return...return home."
"For ancient king and elvish lord There many a gleaming golden hoard They shaped and wrought, and light they caught To hide in gems on hilt of sword.
"On silver necklaces they strung The flowering stars, on crowns they hung The dragon-fire, in twisted wire They meshed the light of moon and sun.
"Far over the misty mountains cold To dungeons deep and caverns old We must away, ere break of day,
Thorin and Balin: To find our long-forgotten gold.
"Goblets they carved there for themselves. And harps of gold; where no man delves There lay they long, and many a song Was sung unheard by men or elves.
"Dwarf chorus: The pines were roaring on the height The winds were blazing in the night The fire was red, it flaming spread; The trees like torches blazed with light.
"The bells were ringing in the dale And men looked up with faces pale; Then dragon's ire more fierce than fire Laid low their and towers and horses frail.
"The mountain smoked beneath the moon; The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom. They fled their hall to dying fall Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.
"Far over the misty mountains cold To dungeons deep and caverns old We must away, ere break of day, To win our Arkenstone from him!"
(end at 7:14)
As the Song of the Lonely Mountain rang its final cord, Bilbo began to rest himself to sleep, having also heard the entirety of Hitch and Pipp's conversation. He began to dream of faraway places, long-slept gold, and dragons; perhaps he should join in on the adventure.
Author's Note
edit: I decided to include videos on my own for the songs because I'm a cheeky bastard. No offense to Lucasnike123 by any means
The Hobbit: Third-Age Generation
Chapter Three: Roast Mutton
Chapter Three: Roast Mutton
The morning sunshine broke through the sitting room windows of Bag End, to where Hitch had been sleeping on one of the fireplace armchairs. The others were still fast asleep, but stirring in their sleep. He then got up and made his way over to the pantry, and picked out a singular carrot from the emptiness. He then realized how quiet everything was, and how empty the place felt with the dwarves' absence.
His eyes then fell on a small stack of coins sat on a small letter.
Master Baggins , it read. Our deepest thanks for your hospitality last night. I know we might have upset you by dropping by unannounced, and you have our apologies for any inconveniences we might have caused you. It is my understanding that this was a jest on the part of Gandalf, but he wished to assure you that we meant no harm. We have tided up the best we could, and have left some payment to fill your pantry. You can also rest assured that we do not hold your reluctance to accompany us on our journey against you. We understand that such a long and perilous journey is something that you would not want force on you. We have the honor to remain.
Yours truly, Thorin and Co.
At least they were polite enough to leave compensation for the inconvenience, Hitch thought to himself. Then his eyes rested on the unsigned parchment rested under a fruit bowl. He read through it while making his way back to the sitting room, where the others were waking up.
"Morning all," Hitch greeted.
"Good morning Hitch," Sunny replied.
"'Do you mean to wish a good morning, or you feel good on this particular morning?'" Izzy said, playing with Gandalf's words.
Everyone lightly chuckled.
"What do have there?" Zipp asked.
"Uh, Bilbo's still unsigned contract," he replied sheepishly.
"You know," Pipp interjected. "I've been thinking about this while I was sleeping, and I think we ought to join them."
"Who?"
"The dwarves of course!"
"Uh, don't you think you're sounding a bit too hasty?"
"Maybe she's right," Sunny added. "Perhaps this is the Hobbit's Tale the book's title spoke of."
"And what are we supposed to do?"
"Besides," Zipp said. "I don't remember them asking for our help specifically."
"And why should that stop us? They need help! They haven't a home, and...they're going on a quest that will surly kill them. At least on their own. I'm going to help them, with or without you."
"That's not really a wise decision Sunny," Hitch rebuked.
"Well, if you won't help them, who will?"
"I will."
The ponies turned to face Bilbo Baggins standing tall and firm in the parlor entryway.
"You're right Sunny, and if you're going...then so am I."
"You're sure you want to do this?" Zipp asked.
"No, no I'm not," he sighed. "But I'll have a damn good try at it."
"I'm going to!" Izzy cried.
"Me as well!" Pipp added.
"Very well," Zipp groaned, rolling her eyes.
Everyone then turned to Hitch, who then finished the last of his carrot. "Oh, all right, but this is only to keep you guys from getting yourselves killed."
He then gave the contract to Bilbo who signed his name in ink, right before the rest followed their signatures under his. And that is how Bilbo Baggins began his greatest adventure: rushing out the door with his newest friends, and without his pipe or walking stick. Instead, he had just the one pack while flaying the contract in his hand while the group hopped fences and ran up and down the neighborhood hillsides.
"'Ere! Mister Bilbo! Where are you going?! And who are they?!" Mr. Worrywart called from his garden.
"Can't stop! We're already late!"
"Late for what?!"
"We're going on an adventure!" Bilbo called back as they finally ran past the borders of Hobbiton.
Eventually they caught up to the company, who were riding there own ponies through the backwoods paths.
"Wait! WAIT!" Bilbo cried.
The company halted as the newcomers approached Balin, catching their breaths in the meantime.
"You guys..." panted Zipp. "Had quite...the...head-...start...on us."
"We signed it," Bilbo presented the contract to Balin.
"All of you?" Dwalin asked.
"Well, apart from Bilbo," Hitch answered. "We've all agreed to forfeit any payment. Neither of us are in it for the money."
"Though, it will be nice to see the treasure you're all so interested in," Pipp smiled.
Balin took out a looking glass while he read the contract, during which his pony sniffed at Pipp's mane.
"Hello?" she asked reproachfully.
"Everything appears to be in order," Balin finalized. "Welcome, Master Baggins, Trailblazer, Ms. Starscout, Moonbow, Princess Storm, and Petals to the company of Thorin Oakenshield."
Thorin was still skeptical about Bilbo and the otherworldly ponies, but begrudgingly allowed their presence. "Give him a pony."
"No, no, no, that won't be necessary. Thank you, I'm sure I can keep up on foot. I've done my fair share of walking holidays, you know? Even got as far as Frogmorton once-AYUP!" Bilbo yelped as Fili and Kili hoisted him onto the spare baggage pony.
At last the company began their trek, with a few dwarves tossing small bags of coins between each other.
"Come on, Nori. Pay up," Oin called.
"What are they doing?" Sunny asked, walking alongside Gandalf.
"They took wagers on whether or not Bilbo would turn up," he replied. "Some bet that he wouldn't, some more that you wouldn't either."
"And what did you think?" Bilbo asked.
"Well..." Gandalf began, only to pause as he caught his winnings. "My dear fellow, I never doubted you for a second."
Bilbo suddenly sneezed.
"Bless you," Sunny said.
"It's the horse hair. No offense."
"None taken."
He then fumbled about his pockets, until his dropped. "No, wait, wait, stop. STOP!" he called to the company. "We have to turn around!"
"What on earth is the matter?" Gandalf asked.
"I forgot my handkerchief."
Zipp sighed and groaned. "Great. It's like my sister's got a twin."
"I'm right here you know!"
"Here!" Bofur called, tearing a piece of cloth. "Use this!" He then tossed it back to Bilbo, who looked at it with minor disgust.
"Move on," Thorin called, visibly annoyed.
"You'll have to make do without pocket-handkerchiefs, and a many other good things, Bilbo Baggins, before our journey's end," said Gandalf. "You were born to the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire. But home is now behind you. The world is ahead."
That evening the company was resting under a natural canopy overlooking the high-night sky, and Bilbo was uneasily trying to sleep, not helped from Bombur's loud snoring, or Pipp's uneasy sounding whining . Trying to occupy himself, but also get a break from all the snoring of his companions, he approached the pony he had been riding, Myrtle she was called.
"Hello, girl. Who's a good girl?" He then took out an apple he had pocketed. "There's our little secret, Myrtle. You must tell no one."
Suddenly, a loud screech was hear far off in the distance, causing Bilbo's hair to stand on end. Hitch, who had been on the watch with Fili and Kili, stood ready in apprehensive defense. Zipp awoke immediately, being the light sleeper she was, and Pipp stood ever closer to her wingspan. Sunny and Izzy stood close to Bifur and Bofur, Izzy's horn glowing in anxiousness.
"What was that?" Bilbo asked.
Kili's face immediately went grave. "Orcs," he answered.
"Orcs?" Bilbo repeated, with growing anxiety in his voice. Thorin overheard from nearby, and was becoming restless.
"What are Orcs?" Sunny asked, with evident worry.
"Throat cutters," Fili answered. "Raiders. They're man-like in shape, but ugly, evil, and bloodthirsty. There'll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them."
"They strike in the wee, small hours when everyone's asleep," Kili continued. "Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood."
Bilbo looked out with his heart stuck in his throat, while Hitch looked fearfully back to his companions. Then the dwarf brothers began laughing, and the ponies sighed with great relief at having only been at the end of a cruel joke. Hitch was about to reprimand them, when Thorin spoke out before him.
"You think that's funny? Do you think a night raid by orcs is a joke?"
"We didn't mean anything by it," Fili replied, trying to keep his gaze from his angered uncle.
"No you didn't," Thorin shook his head. "You know nothing of the world."
The company watched as Thorin went to peer over the cliff's edge, as Balin spoke up. "Don't mind him lads. Thorin has more cause then most, to hate orcs."
"How hated are orcs?" Izzy asked, with no hint of glee.
"While their true origins remain a mystery, what is for certain is that they are the servants of the evil that made them."
"So, they're real?" Pipp asked from under Zipp's wing.
"All too real," Balin replied, his voice deepening to a tragedy. "After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria."
"Moria?" Hitch asked.
"An entire kingdom built within the depths of the Misty Mountains. In the dwarvish tongue it is known as Khazad-dum, Moria is the elvish name for it."
"So," Zipp interjected. "You went to reclaim Moria?"
"Aye, but our enemy had gotten there first. Moria had been taken by legions of orcs, led by the most vile of all their race: Azog the Defiler."
While Sunny had only just heard of Azog and orcs in general, she could understand that with the way Balin carried the name with such hatred and malice, he sounded exactly like how evil he was described as, maybe even worse. She, like Bilbo and the other ponies, hoped to never meet Azog personally.
"The giant Gundabad had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin." Balin then went silent, like he was catching long dried tears. "He began...by beheading the king."
All the ponies gasped with fright. Hitch swallowed nervously, while Zipp held Pipp closer by a hoof, unbelieved about how a family member could be killed by such an evil individual, and with such brutality that it was impossible to comprehend that the..."monster" made it his personal task to enjoy the deaths and suffering he caused.
"Shh, shh," she comforted to her sister. "It's okay. I'm here."
"Oh, lord," Hitch breathed.
"Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad with grief. He went missing. Taken prisoner or killed, we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat...and death were upon us."
"And, what happened next?" Sunny pressed.
Balin smiled. "What happened, was what I was privileged to have witnessed. A young dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe. His armor rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield."
"So the whole 'Oakenshield' thing is a nickname?" Hitch asked.
"All nicknames carry a legend, whether from their deeds of good or evil. It was then that he took a fallen sword, and in one fell swoop sliced off the hand of his enemy. Azog learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken. Our forces rallied, and drove the orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated."
Balin suddenly became solemn. "But there was no feast...nor song that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived. And I thought to myself then...," he looked back to Thorin, "...there is one who I can follow. There is someone...who I would call king."
Thorin looked back from his point to the gathered crowd of dwarves, ponies, and hobbit, who all looked to him with much newfound appreciation and respect; someone who Sunny would call a hero.
"And the Pale Orc?" Bilbo asked. "What happened to him?"
"He slunk back into hole whence he came," Thorin said with great venom. "That filth died of his wounds long ago."
"So, we don't have to worry about him? At all?" Pipp sighed, still shaking.
"Come on," Zipp calmed. "Let's some sleep while we still can."
While Gandalf looked nervously at Thorin's claim of Azog's death, unbeknownst to either him or to the rest of the company, some scouting orcs caught sight of the campsite and uttered back in Black Speech: the most harsh and ugliest tongue in Middle-Earth, used only from the servants of the Dark Lord.
"Send word to the master," one said. "We have found the dwarf-scum."
Later on, the company was trudging through some woods during a heavy downpour. Spirits were more grumpy than downtrodden, especially for Pipp; not helped that the cloak she was given had formed a small puddle of rain that finally gave way right down her muzzle.
Sunny had been walking alongside Bilbo, when Izzy rushed to catch to their level, surprising her as she tried to hide her blushing.
"Hey! Guess what?!" she beamed.
"Uh, it's raining?" Bilbo grumbled.
"Well yeah, but that's not it!"
"I give up," Sunny played.
"Oh, come on! Don't be like that!"
"No really, I do."
"Oh, alright. I had just been talking with Bombur, and he said that himself, Bifur and Bofur are the only dwarves of this company that aren't descended from the line of Durin!"
"You mean that, that they're not from Erebor?" Bilbo asked.
"I asked the same thing, and he said that they grew up in the Lonely Mountain, but were descended from the line of Moria."
"Mister Gandalf!" Dori unintentionally interrupted. "Can't you do something about this deluge?"
"It is raining, Master Dori," Gandalf calmly replied. "And it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you wish to change the weather of the world, you ought to find yourself another wizard."
"Are there any?" Sunny asked, containing her excitement.
"What?"
"Other wizards?"
"There are five of us. The greatest or our order is Saruman the White. Then there are the to Blues...you know I've quite forgotten their names."
"And who is the fifth?" asked Bilbo.
"Well, that would be my cousin, Radagast the Brown."
"Is he a great wizard or is he...more like you?"
"I think he's a very great wizard! In his own way. He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to people."
"I uh, happen to know a few critters myself," Hitch perked up.
Gandalf seemed amused. "Then I hope you will have the pleasure of meeting him. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to east, and a good thing too, for always evil will look to find a foothold in this world."
Some time later, by the time the rainstorm moved on, the Company stopped in a clear field for some much needed rest up.
"We'll camp here for the night," Thorin announced. "Fili, Kili, Master Trailblazer, watch the riding ponies. Make sure you stay with them. Oin, Gloin, get us a fire started."
Gandalf meanwhile was inspecting the ruins of a old farmhouse, which looked ruined. Like it was crushed and smashed by something larger that its life.
"A farmer and his family used to live here...," he worried. "I think it would be wise to move on. We could make for the Hidden Valley."
"I have already told you, I will not go near that place," Thorin hissed.
"Why not? The elves will provide us with proper food, rest, and advice."
Pipp had been listening in on their conversation, and was still feeling as skeptical about the elves following the "guided tour".
"Why the elves? Aren't they the ones who turned back on the refuged dwarves?" she approached Gandalf.
"For once, one of the ponies speaks sense. I do not need anything from the elves."
"Hey! I'm taking your side in this matter!"
"If I want your help, I will ask for it."
Pipp then stormed off in a huff. "We have a map we cannot read. Lord Elrond could help us," Gandalf continued.
"Again you speak of help. A dragon attacks Erebor, what help came from the elves? Orcs plunder Moria and desecrate our sacred halls. The elves looked on and did nothing! And you ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather. Who betrayed my father."
"You are neither of them," Gandalf responded, growing impatient. "I did not give you that map and key for you to hold onto the past."
"I did not know they were yours to keep!" Thorin hissed.
Gandalf had then reached his boiling point, storming off in the direction that led the furthest away from the farmhouse. Sunny and Bilbo looked concerned. "Everything alright?" Bilbo asked.
"Gandalf, where are you going?" Sunny called.
"To seek the company of the only one who has any sense around here," Gandalf huffed.
"And who's that?"
"Myself, Mister Baggins! I've had enough of dwarves for one day."
Zipp approached her sister suspiciously. "I know you had some involvement, so what happened?"
Pipp did not return her gaze.
"Is he coming back?" Sunny asked to Balin. His answer was caught in his throat, not sure of what to say to the little pony.
Later in the evening, Bilbo was not feeling much better about Gandalf's absence.
"He's been gone a long while," he mused.
"Who?" said Bofur, filling a bowl of soup.
"Gandalf. Who else?!" Pipp shouted.
"Take it easy. He's a wizard. He comes and goes as he pleases." He then handed three bowls to Bilbo. "Here take these to the lads. Stop it, you had plenty," he said to Bombur, trying to nick at least one last finger sip.
"I must say Bombur, this is wonderful," Zipp complemented.
Bilbo clumsily carried the soup bowls all the way to where the riding ponies were left, except the watchfolks were greatly concerned, standing stiff and at first took no notice of his arrival.
"What's the matter?" Bilbo asked.
"We were supposed to be watching the riding ponies," Kili said.
"Only we've encountered a slight problem," Fili added.
"We had sixteen..."
"But now there's fourteen," Hitch finished.
"Daisy and Bungo are missing," Kili analyzed.
"That's not good. Not good at all," Bilbo said, eyeing up a torn tree.
"Should we tell Thorin?" Hitch asked.
"Uh, no. Let's not worry him," Fili sighed. "Bilbo, as our official burglar, we thought you might look into it."
"Well, uh," Bilbo stammered. He was still holding the three soup bowls, not sure about what he was expected to find. "It's looks like something big uprooted these trees."
"That was our thinking," Fili said.
"Something very big, and possibly quite dangerous..."
Hitch shared Bilbo's uneasiness, enough to nervously take one of the soup bowls. While doing so, he noticed something in the distance. "Hey, there's a light. Over there."
A small flickering glow was emitting from deep within the far off undergrowth, surrounded by voices of a sneeze, then a deep-throated laugh.
"What is it?" Bilbo asked.
"Trolls," Kili hissed, before he and Fili rushed from behind the log where they were perched, leaving Bilbo at a loss about their dinner, before he grabbed them before rushing to catch up. When he did, they soon ducked behind again when a giant stomping troll came crashing through carrying two more of the riding ponies under his arms.
"He's got Myrtle and Minty!" Bilbo gasped quietly.
"Oh, lord," Hitch sighed. "I think they're going to eat them. We should do something!"
"Yeah!" Bilbo agreed.
The dwarves looked back to Bilbo, an idea sharing between them. "Yes, you should!" Kili nodded. "Mountain Trolls are slow and stupid, and you're so small they'll never see you!"
"No, no, no..." Bilbo stammered, but once again his protest went ignored.
"It's perfectly safe! We'll be right behind you!" Fili added.
"I don't know about this," Hitch swallowed. "One of us should go with him."
"Very well, but keep out of sight."
"Now, just, wait a minute!"
"If any of you run into trouble, hoot twice like a barn owl, and once like a brown owl."
With that, the dwarves left Bilbo and Hitch to traverse up to the trolls on their own.
"Twice like a brown owl...no, twice like a barn owl...no, once like a...hey, are you sure about this?" he turned back to voice his concerns, only for them to have disappeared from view.
"Well, that's just wonderful. Isn't it?" Hitch sarcastically shook, before drinking whatever was left in the soup.
"Mutton yesterday, mutton today, and blimey, if it don't like mutton again tomorrow!" they heard a deep-voiced troll grumbling. Hitch and Bilbo silently then made their way towards the camp, Hitch more careful considering he had no hobbit-feet.
"Quit your gripin'!" another troll spoke up. "These ain't sheep. These is west nags!"
By now, they had a full view of the campsite: one troll in an apron and blind in one eye was stirring a cauldron over the campfire, the biggest troll had only a loincloth and just set the captured riding ponies in a makeshift fence of skulls, branches, and ropes, and the last troll was the youngest looking and wearing a vest.
"Oh," the third troll groaned. He sounded like he had a cold. "I don't like 'orse. Never 'ave. Not enough fat on 'em!"
"Well, it's better than that leathery old farmer," the troll cook said. "All skin and bone, 'e was. I'm still picking bits of 'im out of me teeth."
The nasally troll then sneezed, and Hitch kept himself from vomiting as the sound of a loud plop was heard in the stewing pot. Bilbo pretended like it did not happen
"Oh, would you look at that!" the cook noticed. "A floater! Hm, might improve the flavoring!"
"Ah, well there's more where that came from!" the sneezing troll snorted.
"Oh, no you don't, Tom!" the cook cried, grabbing his companion by the nostrils. The troll, who was called Tom, was then thrown back onto his seat. He started to sneeze again, but this into his much-used handkerchief.
By now, Bilbo had reached the paddock, Hitch remaining behind in some brush, squirming silently at the masses of the monsters before him.
"Well, I hope yer goin' these nags," Tom commented standing above their captives, Bilbo ducking out of sight in time. "I don't like the stinky parts."
The cook then smacked his head with his ladle. "I said sit down!"
"I'm starvin', are we 'aving 'orse tonigh' or wot?" the other troll complained.
"Shut yer cakehole, Bill!" the cook snapped. "You'll eat what I give ya."
Bilbo then noticed something along Tom's belt. Right under his handkerchief was a large homemade knife. He looked back to Hitch, who also noticed the knife, who nodded, still very much fearful.
"'Ow come 'e's the cook?! Everything tastes the same! Everything tastes like chicken!"
"Except the chicken!" Tom laughed.
Bill also laughed. "Wot tastes like fish!"
"I'm just sayin'," the cook grumbled to his companions. "A little appreciation would be nice. 'Thank you very much Bert.' 'Lovely stew Bert.' How hard is that?!"
While the trolls continued arguing, Bilbo crept closer towards Tom's knife. Suddenly, Hitch bit his hoof as Tom began feeling his hand for something. Bilbo noticed it too, and ducked out of sight in time for Tom to grab a large wooden mug.
"'Ere, that's my grog!" Bert snapped.
Tom was close to taking a sip, before he nervously set it back. "Sorry," he said, before Bert hit him again upside the head with his ladle.
He then took another stir from the pot, sniffing it in with whatever calculating precision trolls had. "Mmm, that's beautifully balanced, that is." He then held it to Tom. "'Ere, wrap yer gob around that, would ya? That's why I'm the cook."
Bilbo then reached right behind Tom, and reached up to grab the knife, only for Tom to scratch his posterior. Bilbo looked away in disgust, before trying again.
"Oh, me guts are grumbling," Bill complained. "Got to snuffle something. Flesh! I need flesh!"
Suddenly, Tom reached back and snagged Bilbo, and thinking he was at first his handkerchief he sneezed his mucus right into every corner that made Hitch swallow his vomit again.
"AH!" Tom exclaimed. "Blimey! Look what come out of me 'ooter! It's got arms and legs and everything!"
"What is it?" Bert asked.
"I don't know, but I don't like the way it wriggles around!" Tom then tossed Bilbo to the ground, unsuspectingly right at Hitch.
"'Ere, there's something else around 'ere," Bill noticed. Bert then approached and nabbed Hitch before he knew what was coming.
"What's this now? It looks like a pony, only...there's something with the eyes."
"You think it talks?" Tom asked.
"Why do you say that?" Bert looked back to Tom.
"Like you said, there's something with the eyes. Maybe it's a dog."
"I am not a dog!" Hitch incredulously stated.
"It can talk," Tom amazed. "You see somethin' new every day."
"Never mind that, what about this thing?" Bill interrupted, still holding his own knife at little Bilbo's chest. "Are you an oversized squirrel, or something like that?"
"I'm a burg- a hobbit," Bilbo stammered.
Hitch looked back to him lessening respect, and more annoyance.
"A burgahobbit?" Tom wondered.
"Are there any more burgahobbits around here?" Bert asked with great suspicion.
"Lots more-" Bilbo began.
"No! None at all!" Hitch shouted.
"Lots more and none at all?" It was evident that Tom was the most slow-witted of the trolls. "Ask 'em what thay mean by that."
"Never mind that. Do you think we can cook 'em?" Bill asked.
"We can try," Tom sneered before making a lunge for Bilbo, who ducked and ran between his legs.
"Run for it Bilbo!" Hitch cried.
"'Ere, they wouldn't make more than a mouthful, not when they're skinned and boned!" Bill threatened.
"Perhaps there's enough for a pie!"
"It's too quick!" Tom cried in frustration, however Bill swooped and firmly hoisted Bilbo by the legs.
"I'll ask again, are there any more o' you hidin' where you shouldn't?"
"Nope," Bilbo responded.
"'E's lying," Tom smirked. "Hold his toes over the fire. Make him squeal!"
Suddenly, a streak of white collided with Bert's arm like a cinderblock which made him lose his grip on Hitch, and Kili's sharp sword leapt from the underbrush and slashed twice at Tom's leg, causing him to squeal in pain.
"Drop him!" Kili shouted.
"You wot?!" Bill shouted back.
Zipp and Hitch ran up from behind the trolls to stand firm beside Kili. "He said drop him!" she cried.
Enraged, Bill threw Bilbo right at them, Zipp catching him in midair and setting him down as the remainder of the company emerged from the underbrush and all began fighting against the trolls. Swords were thrown against the humongous brutes, while the ponies' style of combat was fairly limited, but not by much.
The pegasi tackled makeshift airdrops, Zipp making a beeline right for Tom's head, which loosened his knife as Bilbo carried it over and began slicing the ropes holding the captive riding ponies.
At one point Tom was swatting at Pipp, only to be distracted from a stone slingshotted from Ori. Fili, Kili, and Sunny were soon on Bert, the dwarves slashing with their weapons while Sunny made up his arm and gripped his neck like a bucking bronco. Hitch then leapt through the air, grabbed Sunny from a confused Bert, and landed safely before Hitch took off on the direction of Dwalin and Gloin.
"Hitch!" Sunny shouted in frustration.
"You're welcome!" Hitch called back, while bucking at Tom's face after Dwalin swung his hammer, knocking a set of teeth from his jaws.
"Get the sacks!" Bert cried, right before Izzy swung a large tree branch right into the back of his skull using her magic.
"How do you like my Oakenshield?!" she smiled to Sunny and the dwarves, who chuckled.
Meanwhile, Bilbo finished freeing the captive riding ponies, which caught Bill's enraged attention, who then charged right for him. Tom regained his composure, and seeing what his companions were going for, he rushed and held Hitch tightly in the air by his forehooves. Soon, the dwarves were halted by the sight of Bill and Bert gripping each of Bilbo's arms and legs in midair, while Tom was holding Bill's knife.
"Hitch!" Sunny cried, before Zipp stopped her from rushing recklessly in.
"Bilbo!" Kili then cried, as Thorin followed Zipp's example.
"Lay down your arms!" Bill declared. "Or we'll rip theirs off!"
Bilbo and Hitch stared with intense fear at Thorin, who was in deep thought, and with deep reluctance he thrusted the end of his sword into the earth before him. The other dwarves lowered their weapons, Sunny and Izzy removed their saddlebags, and after a long period of waiting, Zipp swallowed before the doors of death.
After much reluctance, and most of the time the trolls spent corralling the company, they had set up a rotating spit over a burning fire, with Dwalin, Balin, Fili, Nori, Dori, Bofur, Zipp, and Hitch being prepped for the evening meal, the dwarves having been stripped to only their undergarments. The rest were tied in sacks and lay in a pile off to the side, with only each of their heads being only visible.
"Don't bother cooking 'em," Tom suggested. "Let's just sit on 'em and squash 'em into jelly."
Pipp squirmed and cringed, with Bifur being at the bane of her meltdown.
"They should be sautéed and grilled, with a sprinkle 'o sage," Bert shook his head, not caring a moment's pause to the screams of literal burning agony.
Tom licked his lips in anticipation. "That does sound quite nice."
"Never mind the seasonin'! We ain't got all night!" Bill grumbled, turning the spit from Bert's end. "Dawn ain't far off! I don't fancy being turned to stone!"
Bilbo's face lit up with an idea, with only Izzy catching the glimpse. "Wait!" he called. "You are making a terrible mistake!"
"Do something Bilbo!" Hitch yelped as a dancing flame near-missed his chest.
"You can't reason with them! They're 'alfwits!" Dori whimpered.
"Halfwits?! What does that make us?!" Bofur retorted.
"I mean with the, uh, the seasoning!" Bilbo said, hopping his sack to face up to the trolls.
"What about the seasoning?" Bert asked, intrigued but mostly suspicious.
"Bilbo, what are you doing?" Sunny hissed.
"Well, have you smelt them? You're going to need something a lot stronger than sage before you plate this lot up."
"You traitor!" Gloin angrily cried.
"Bilbo, you have finally lost it!" Pipp mused. "And we haven't even gotten that far!"
"I swear Bilbo, if we..." Hitch called, before the spit turned his face away from Bilbo's, "...get out of this alive, I'm going...to kill you!"
Bill rolled his eyes. "What do you know about cookin' dwarf or pony?"
"Shut up," Bert silenced Bill. "Let the uh, flurgaburburhobbit talk."
"Uh, the secret to cooking dwarf is..." Bilbo began.
"Yes? Come on."
"It's uh..."
"Tell us the secret!"
"Chocolate!" Izzy cried, and soon she also hopped to full view of the trolls. "The correct way to cook dwarf is to cake them entirely in chocolate."
"Chocolate?" Bert scratched his head.
"Girl, now you've finally lost your mind!" Pipp shouted.
"Izzy, are you crazy?!" Sunny hissed again.
"Yes! Yes, that's right, thanks Izzy," Bilbo manatee smiled. "The secret is to cake them entirely in chocolate!"
"I ain't never 'eard of chocolate before," Bill spouted, being the only troll with some actual sense. "She's probably making it up!"
"You can't make up the deliciousness of chocolate! Well, you can..." Izzy went off on a tangent that had even the dwarves confused, while Bilbo noticed movement among the brightening rocks. "-believe me, check my saddlebag, but make sure to remove the wrapper, otherwise it will leave a bad aftertaste."
Bert then stomped over to where Izzy's saddlebag lay, and after lightly rummaging took out a bar of chocolate; he then fumbled open the wrapper, still confused.
"How are you supposed to cake 'em in this?"
"It has to be kept wrapped, otherwise it will melt, which will with the slightest touch of your..."
"Finger," Bilbo whispered.
"Finger!"
Sure enough, Bert noticed a small patch of melted chocolate on his finger, which he grossly licked clean. "Mmm, now that is quite a flavor, especially the sugary bits!"
"What a load of rubbish!" Bill spouted. "I've eaten plenty o' dwarf and pony even without the chocolate! Scoff 'em, I say! Boots and all!"
"'E's right!" Tom smirked, eyeing the pile of squirming sacks; specifically Pipp. "'Sides, this one looks like quite the morsel, she does."
He lunged over and then gripped Pipp by the end of her sack, dangling her right over his savoring mouth, whimpering greatly.
"Nice and crunchy," Tom smacked his lips.
"Please, no!" Zipp pleaded. "Not Pipp!"
"No, no, no!" Bilbo stammered. "Not that one! S-she's infected!"
Tom looked down at him, confused.
"You wot?" Bill raised an eyebrow.
"She's got worms in her...tubes."
Tom snarled in disgust before hurling Pipp right back into the pile. "Worms?!" she spluttered. "I'll put worms in your tubes when I'm through with you!"
"In fact, they all have! They're infested with parasites, it's a terrible business."
"Personally, I really wouldn't risk it," Izzy added.
"Parasites?! Did they say parasites?!" Oin demanded.
"Yeah! We don't have parasites! You have parasites!" Kili shouted.
"That's it!" Hitch raged. "We'll...have a talk, and...then I'll kill you!"
Thorin thought a moment, and then the realization came to him amongst the cacophony of insults. One swift kick, and a moment's silence, and it came clear for the others.
"I've...got parasites as big as my arm!" Oin corrected.
"Mine are the biggest! I've got huge parasites!" Kili added.
"We're riddled with them!" Zipp and Dori shouted.
"What would you 'ave us do then?" Bill asked approaching with suspicion. "Let 'em all go?"
"Well..." Izzy shrugged.
"You think I don't know what you're playin' at? These little ferrets are taking us for fools!"
"Ferrets?!" Bilbo spluttered.
"Fools?" Bert asked, confused.
"THE DAWN WILL TAKE YOU ALL!" Gandalf's voice called from atop a large boulder.
"Who's that?" Bill asked.
"No idea," Bert responded.
"Can we eat him too?" Tom thought aloud.
Suddenly, in a flash, Gandalf slammed his staff's end onto the boulder, causing it to split apart and reveal the rising sun to the trolls, turning them all right to stone. Whatever troubles they had were gone in twelve seconds flat. The company cheered at their rescue, and at the return of the Gray Wizard.
"Oh, get your hoof out of my back, Zipp!" Dwalin huffed.
By breakfast time they had been released from their makeshift prisons, some of the dwarves taking the most time to clothe their undergarments. Gandalf strolled about the trolls, rapping his staff playfully against the troll formally known as Tom.
"Where did you go, may I ask?" Thorin asked to Gandalf.
"To look ahead," he simply responded.
"And what brought you back?"
"Looking behind."
Thorin's mind was not put at ease, but Gandalf was Gandalf; one he never bothered to fully understand.
"Nasty business," Gandalf continued. "Still, they're all in one piece."
"Indeed." Thorin then looked over to see Hitch trying to apologize to both Bilbo and Izzy.
"You uh, must understand that I uh..." Hitch stammered.
"Master Trailblazer," Thorin called.
"Yes?" he replied, trotting over the pair, trying to appear brave.
"It seems you and your friends can acquit yourselves quite well, if need be," Thorin complemented. "I admit I was wrong about you."
Hitch was taken aback. "Well uh,...th-thank you Thorin. I-uh we do our best to protect ourselves and others. And, if so wish to, call me Hitch."
Thorin smiled, amused. "Very well, Hitch. We owe you all our lives."
Hitch then made his signature smug grin, which caused Thorin to laugh, before frowning again. "I wish I could the same about your burglar."
Pipp, who had been overhearing again, approached this time in defense against Thorin.
"Hey!" she snapped. "At least he and Izzy had the nerve and confidence to stall for time. I didn't hear you say anything to do so!"
Thorin looked back to her with the same look from before, right as Hitch quietly chuckled. "What's so funny?" he asked.
Hitch was about to respond, but instead he laughed more loudly. "It's nothing," he finally said. "Only...only that was good of Bilbo when he said we were infested with parasites!"
That was all he could hold in before he fully lost himself in his own humor; Pipp having to guide him away from where Thorin and Gandalf were evidently lost in thought.
Gandalf turned from the humorous earth-pony sheriff back to the literal stoned trolls. "They must have come down from the Ettinmoors."
"Since when do mountain trolls venture this far south?" Thorin pondered.
"Not for an age," Gandalf responded, shaking his head. "Not since a darker powered ruled these lands."
Evidently, Sunny was this time overhearing their conversation. "Darker power?" she mumbled under her breath. First the dragon, Azog and the orcs, and now...whatever this "darker power" was, or hopefully will no longer be.
"They could not have moved in daylight," Gandalf surmised.
"There must be a cave nearby," Thorin pondered again, also surmising the area.
Almost on cue can the unmistakable call of Izzy's wonderment of discovery. "Hey everyone! You all need to see this! There's this entire cave that's filled with all this cool stuff!"
The Hobbit: Third-Age Generation
Chapter Four: A Short Rest
Chapter Four: A Short Rest
True as Izzy discovered, she had found the troll hoard of the former trolls, and the company wasted no time in exploring, more pillaging the pillaged.
"What's that stench?" Bofur groaned.
"It's a troll hoard," Gandalf replied. "Be careful what you touch."
Right as he spoke, Pipp stepped one of her front hooves into something squishy, not to mention with a rank. Soon, something dripped from overhead right onto her head.
"Ugh!" she groaned.
"What now?" Zipp moaned, familiar with her sister's habits.
"It's in my mane!"
The others paid no attention to Pipp's most ridiculous plight, for they, and the ponies, were all more entranced by all the excess plunder and treasury. In one corner, Bofur, Nori, and Gloin, soon joined by Izzy, were looking over a small pile of gold coins.
"Seems a shame to leave it lying around," said Bofur.
"Agreed," added Gloin. "Nori, get a shovel."
"What are you going to do?" Izzy asked.
"We're going to make what's called a long-term deposit. Basically, we leave some of these coins behind here, and we then come and retrieve them when-if we return."
In another back area, Thorin, Gandalf, Hitch, and Zipp had found a rack of weaponry: all strangled with cobwebs and in need of a good dusting. Hitch picked out a sword, or more caught it on his head after he lost his grip on it. Zipp helped him up.
"Doesn't this seem a little big to you?" she asked.
Hitch picked up the sheath, before taking out the sword itself: the blade itself was untouched by the unkemptness of the cave, for it shone like fresh-shining silver, though the hilt had a slight blackening to it that was shared with the blade's edges. After admiring at it for a short while, Hitch felt something about the sword.
"That's odd," he said. "It feels lighter now, like it recognizes its new owner, or something."
Zipp was intrigued now, and then picked out a bow and quiver: the bow was fashioned of black yew wood, and in the quiver was a singular arrow, though broken in two at the neck.
"Hey Izzy," Hitch called. "Come here and check out these weapons."
"Sorry, I can't. I'm helping Gloin make a long-term deposit."
"Hey Gandalf," Zipp called over. "I found this here bow, but the only arrow here is broken at the shaft."
Gandalf took out the pieces, looked them over with wide eyes, and from the glow of his staff the pieces were reformed once again. He then handed it back to Zipp.
"I have a feeling about this arrow," she said, holding it in her hoof. "Suppose you could help me get this stuff on?"
Suddenly, but confusingly unintentionally, it was like the bow and quiver understood the plight of their new master and obeyed to fit her correct size.
"There's magic in these weapons," she smiled.
Hitch's sheath now fit warmly along his body, and he deposited the sword back into it, mostly for a rest. Presently, Pipp came over and checked out a shield that was just her size. Strange though: it was the dustiest looking thing among the rack, but despite that Pipp seemed enchanted by it; it slipped along her hoof like it was a nighttime blanket, comfy and roomy. She then noticed another sword. She unsheathed it, and was enamored.
"This'll be perfect for Sunny!"
Thorin picked out two swords in particular, the longer of which he handed to Gandalf.
"These swords were not made by any troll," Thorin analyzed.
"Nor by any smith among men," Gandalf added. He then looked to Pipp's shield. "These here swords, along with that shield, were forged in Gondolin, by the High-Elves of the First Age."
At the mention of elves Thorin began to replace the sword in his hands.
"You could not wish for a finer blade!" Gandalf halted him.
Thorin paused, before unsheathing the sword. While his prejudice with elves still stood, he could not deny himself the pleasure of such an enamoring and splendid blade.
At last, the company felt their plunder of the plunder was satisfied. "What are you guys doing?" Zipp asked to Izzy, Gloin, Bofur, and Nori.
"We're making a long-term deposit!" Izzy replied with pride.
"Let's get out of this foul place," Thorin announced. "Come on, let's go. Bofur, Gloin, Nori, Izzy."
"Do you think she could use a weapon?" Hitch asked, passing by.
"I think she can handle herself on her own. She's a unicorn after all."
Hitch remained still puzzled, but humored himself as he followed out.
Gandalf's eye caught something underneath a pile of leaves, that being a small sheathed dagger.
Sunny had waited outside with some remaining dwarves on watch, and Pipp was the first to emerged from the hoard.
"Hey Sunny!" she called, nearly tripping on a tree root.
"Woah, what did you find?" Sunny asked, admiring the weapons her friends found.
"We found these here cool-looking weapons, and I figured you could use one too." She then handed the sword to her wide-eyed friend, though Sunny was reluctant, even if it looked a sword of such elegance.
"I'd take if I were you," Hitch said from the cave's mouth.
"You already have one!" Pipp called back.
"I know, but I am looking to fight before I die."
Soon, Sunny claimed the sword for her own, slipping it seamlessly over her shoulder.
"What would dad say if he saw me now?" she sighed gravely.
"Though I never met him, I'll bet he would be more proud of you than ever before," Pipp smiled.
"But this goes against everything he taught me. Everything Princess Twilight stood for. I don't know if I can make this journey's end."
Pipp sighed. She was conflicted, for she knew that fighting was not in Sunny's character, but she knew that this world was not as kind as the one they hailed from. They had only been on the road for close to a week, but now home felt so much farther away.
"Maybe not, but I for one am going to give it a rowdy good try." Pipp hesitated. "Regardless of what crawls into my mane."
Sunny then noticed what looked like a small beetle emerge from the top of her friend's no longer overly-pristine mane, before it scurried off quickly and quietly out of sight into the undergrowth.
"Say Gandalf," Hitch asked. "Anything else we should know about these weapons?"
"Since they are of elven make," Gandalf replied, "they will glow a shade of blue whenever orcs are nearby."
"Is it too late to say that I have no experience wielding a sword?"
"Myself as well?" Bilbo added.
"And I hope neither of you have to. But if you do, remember this: true courage is not knowing when to take a life, but when to spare one."
Zipp's ears suddenly perked up. "I hear something," she said.
"Me too," Pipp added. "Though it's faint."
"Thumping feet, creaking oak-wood, rustling leaves. Okay...now the approaching sounds are increasing...I would say, due west."
Sure enough, the entire company was on alert, and after seeking shelter within the undergrowth and foliage of the trees.
"Stay together!" Gandalf shouted. "Hurry now! Arm yourselves!"
The dwarves unveiled their weapons, as well as the ponies: Zipp hovering upright behind Pipp as she quivered greatly behind her shield, arrow drawn. Izzy stood between her earth-pony friends who had also drawn their swords. Soon, whatever the thing that was approaching emerged, in the form of a dirtied brown old man, another wizard, Sunny figured, riding a wooden cart being pulled by a collection of mushed rabbits.
"THIEVES! FIRE! MURDER!" he cried.
"Radagast," Gandalf smiled, recognizing his cousin. "It's Radagast the Brown!"
"Well, I can see that," Hitch sighed, sheathing his sword.
"To be honest," Zipp said. "I didn't expect much."
"He seems a pleasant fellow," Izzy beamed.
"What on earth are you doing here?" Gandalf asked.
"I was looking for you, Gandalf. Something's wrong. Something's terribly wrong," Radagast declared ominously.
"Yes?"
"Just give me a minute. Um…Oh! I had a thought and now I've lost it. It was…it was was right there, on the tip of my tongue! Oh! It's not a thought at all! It's a silly old… stick insect."
Sure enough, Gandalf pulled out a small stick insect that had been living undisturbed inside Radagast's throat, much to the disgust of Bilbo, most of the dwarves, and the ponies apart from Izzy, who took great curiosity in the little bug.
"The Greenwood is sick Gandalf," Radagast said, with great worry. "A darkness has fallen over it. Nothing grows any more, at least nothing good. The air is foul with decay. But worst are the webs."
"Webs? What do you mean?"
"Spiders, Gandalf. Giant ones. Some kind of spawn of Ungoliant, or I am not a Wizard. I followed their trail. They came from Dol Guldur."
"Dol Guldur? But the old fortress is abandoned."
"No, Gandalf, it is not. A dark power dwells in there...such as I have never felt before. It is the shadow of an ancient horror. One that can summon the spirits...of the dead. I saw him, Gandalf. From out of the darkness...a Necromancer has come."
Radagast then looked to Gandalf, as if having emerged from a deep, hypnotic trance. "Sorry."
"Try a little old Toby. It'll help setting your nerves." Gandalf then pulled out his pipe and filled it for his stressed cousin. "In, and out." When Radagast's fill looked complete, Gandalf continued. "Now, the Necromancer. Are you sure?"
Radagast did not respond. Instead he took out a wrapped weapon from inside his cloak, his hands shaking.
"That is not from the world of the living."
Zipp's ears then picked up again. "Okay," she said, eyes widening. "This time it means harm. Harm to us specifically."
Soon a low-sounding howl was heard off in the distance.
"Was that a wolf?" Bilbo asked, fearful. "Are there wolves out there?"
"Wolves?" Bofur responded. "No, that is not a wolf."
Once again on cue, the creature that made the dreaded howl came charging out right on top of Ori. Dwalin then took a swing at its jaws, but not before another one emerged having lied in wait. This one made a beeline for Pipp, except it jaws became caught on her shield's edges, giving enough of a distraction for Thorin to slash and hack it, before soon both creatures lay slain.
"Warg scouts!" Thorin raged. "Which means an orc pack is not far behind!"
"Orc pack?" Bilbo said, wide eyed.
"Orc pack?!" Sunny repeated, more fearful.
"Who did you tell about your quest, beyond your kin?" Gandalf pressed.
"No one."
"Who did you tell?!"
"No one, I swear!" Thorin replied, more hard-shelled than before. "What in Durin's name is going on?"
"You are being hunted."
"Great, it's like being back in Zephyr Heights," Zipp grumbled.
"Hey, at least we cleared that one up without anypony getting hurt!" Pipp retorted.
"Never mind about the night we met," Hitch interjected. "We have to get out of here!"
"We can't! We have no riding ponies!" Ori cried, emerging from where the riding ponies were hid. "They bolted!"
"I'll draw them off," Radagast declared.
"These are Gundabad wargs," Gandalf dismissed. "They will outrun you."
"These are Rhosgobel rabbits!" Radagast stood firm. "I should like to see them try."
And so, the company set out across the fields, with only the howling of wargs and screeches or orcs, barely drowning the humorous Radagast as he mushed his rabbits right within firing distance, enjoying every moment of his outlandish diversion.
"HAHA!" he laughed. "COME AND GET ME!"
The company watched from behind the shards of rocks, waiting for Gandalf's watchful eyes.
"Come on!" he said at last. "Stay together."
One by one, the company followed closely behind Gandalf as they rushed across the fields, trying their mightiest to stay ahead and out of sight from the hunting dwarf pack; keeping under the shades of the boulders.
While the ponies were the only quadrupeds of the company, their short-statured legs had them trailing at the very rear of the company.
The closest call came when Ori nearly overshot into the pack's view, but Thorin caught him back just in time.
"All of you!" Gandalf shouted. "Come on, come on! Quick!"
"Where are you leading us?" Thorin asked with suspicion.
"Never mind where, as long as it holds safety!" Pipp retorted, losing her patience with Thorin's stubbornness.
Izzy however, in her absentmindedness, wandered right into the middle view of the pack. Zipp rushed her back, however she her hearing picked up an oncoming danger.
Right atop the boulder the company hid under, was a singular warg-ridden orc. Thorin peered to Kili, who stood out and fired an arrow right at the mounted orc. It stumbled down, and the dwarves took multiple swings before they died, rather noisy swings and slashes.
"That's not good," Zipp's ears perked up. "The orcs have been drawn to our location. They're heading this way!"
"Move! Run!" Gandalf cried.
The company then rushed out into the open and exposed fields, with the orc pack hot on their trail. Though in the glare of the sunlight, only the brightening glow from Pipp's shield was shown.
"Hey, look!" Izzy chimed. "You're shield's glowing blue!"
"There they are!" Gloin shouted.
"This way! Quickly!" Gandalf called.
Eventually the company became cornered, with the orc pack closing in on all sides.
"There's more coming!" Kili shouted.
"Kili! Shoot them!" Thorin shouted back.
On fearful instinct Sunny and Hitch drew their swords, quivering in fear, even with Fili and Oin standing their ground beside them.
"We're surrounded!" Fili shouted.
"Zipp!" Kili cried. "Help me out here!"
"I only have the one arrow!" Zipp cried back. Suddenly, a warg came leaping out right on top of Ori, and immediately Zipp took out and fired her own arrow, piercing its thick skull and killing it on site.
"Waste of a good arrow! Now I'm fresh out!"
Pipp looked over to her frustrated sister, and was greatly surprised. "No you aren't. There's still one more left."
"What?" Zipp felt back into her quiver, and took out the very same arrow that was found. "How's that possible?"
A screech from a faraway orc took her by surprise, then immediately fired right into its chest, dropping dead on impact.
"There it is again!"
Sure enough, the arrow was rested right back in its quiver like it never left.
Zipp gazed longingly at the little sharpened stick. "I think Middle-Earth weapons are enchanted."
"What a prize they will be to everypony back home!" Pipp smiled, before her face immediately became sour. Zipp came close to her younger sister, lifting her head to eye level.
"Hey, we will make it home. We're all here for you."
Pipp meekly smiled, not at all reassured at protection the journey was sure to be fraught with, but if she was to be with her sister and friends every step of the way, then maybe it will be at least tolerable.
"Where's Gandalf?!" Fili cried in dismay.
"He's abandoned us!" Dwalin raged.
"That Izzy's wandered off again!" Hitch added.
The company all stood their grounds, shaking but firm at the surrounding orc pack, minus one wizard and unicorn respectively. Then a pair of voices called out from underneath the nearest boulder.
"This way, you fools!"
"Come on, there's an opening down here!"
The company looked to see Gandalf and Izzy poking their heads out from an underground pathway, and immediately they all began rushing downwards to safety.
"...nine, ten..." Gandalf counted off the dwarves and Bilbo.
"One, two...three..." Izzy counted off her friends and herself.
"Kili! Run!" Thorin shouted to his nephew.
"Zipp! Let's go!" Pipp shouted to her sister.
Kili looked back to his uncle, before holding his arrow and ducking under, Pipp following suit behind Thorin. Zipp fired her arrow once more, before swooping through the crack and landing unscathed, the arrow once again returned to its quiver.
Suddenly, a horn was heard on the horizon by all, and the trampling of war horses, followed by many hacks, slashes, and an orc's carcass thrown down into their hiding hole with an pierced in its chest. Thorin took out the arrow, and looked at it with familiar disgust.
"Elves," he sneered, before throwing it to the stone.
"That was the elves?" Pipp asked.
Thorin responded by only a glare of resentment.
"I cannot see where the pathway leads," Dwalin called from another crack in the cave. "Do we follow it, or no?"
"Follow it of course!" Bofur hastily replied.
"I think that would be wise," Gandalf said in the back.
"Whatever the wizard says," Izzy said to her friends, before trotting off in Gandalf's pace while Thorin's suspicious look greatened.
The valley was greatly thin, and the ponies had the most difficulty traversing the rugged but smooth territory. Bilbo was suspicious also of Gandalf's intentions, but not so much as angered as Thorin.
"Izzy," Sunny asked. "Where are we going?"
"Hm?" Izzy had been humming to herself the whole way through. "I don't think Gandalf told me. He just said, 'We must bring the others here. Now!'" she replied in her best imitation of Gandalf.
Soon, after many grumblings from the dwarves, the company finally emerged from the ravine to a cliff-face overlooking a splendid valley of beautiful trees growing under a sparkling waterfall. The focused feature was actually of the building that the trees surrounded, and though its architecture was unfamiliar to the ponies, none of them could deny how breathtaking and homely it looked and felt.
"The Valley of Imladris," Gandalf said. "In the common tongue it is known by another name."
"Rivendell," Bilbo sighed.
"How do you know of this place Bilbo?" Hitch asked.
"I've heard legends and passing rumors in the Shire, mostly on my walking holidays." This was the first time on the journey that Hitch could recall Bilbo ever feeling so calm and at peace with himself and the world.
"It is a beautiful place," Pipp beamed brightly. "The elves made all this?"
"It is the last homely house, east of the sea," Gandalf responded, sensing an ease in Pipp's voice on the subject of elves. "It is Lord Elrond's greatest achievement, not only just for his kin."
And of course, Thorin was the one who made his grievances vocal, and once again to the gray wizard.
"This was your plan all along?" he sneered. He then turned to Izzy. "And you blindly went along with it?"
"Gandalf made the elves seemed like such pleasant folks," Izzy shrugged.
"You would have us seek refuge with our enemy?"
"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield," Gandalf argued. "The only ill-will to found in this valley is that which you bring yourself."
"You think the elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us."
"Of course, they will. But we have questions that need to be answered. If we are to be successful this will need to be handled with tact, and respect, and no small degree of charm, which is why you will leave the talking to me."
"Probably for the best," Hitch stated.
The company then traversed down the valley towards the entryway of Rivendell. The ponies were the most entranced by the many sights and feelings the place carried with it, most of all the calm, peaceful, serenity, and fairness. The place also looked as though the natural beauty was meant to be hewn within: the elven-made buildings had many intertwining branches, like the elves of Rivendell also found beauty within the world they were born into, and did not mean to forget it all.
Presently, one of the elves of Rivendell approached the arriving company: he had long kept black hair, complementing his violet-shaded robes, and though his ears were pointed, like Bilbo's, the ponies felt like the features of elves were indeed the most wise and fare of all beings.
"Mithrandir," he greeted to Gandalf.
"Ah, Lindir," Gandalf returned.
"Keep sharp," Thorin whispered to Dwalin.
"Mithrandir?" Sunny asked. "What was that about?"
"Shh!" Izzy hissed. "I want to hear this."
Lindir was speaking to Gandalf in what Sunny could only figure to be elvish.
"I must speak with Lord Elrond," Gandalf said, not in elvish.
"My Lord Elrond is not here," Lindir replied, also not in elvish.
"Not here, then where is he?"
Lindir was about to respond, until the horn calling from earlier came calling back once again, followed by the rushing stamps of strong horses, and soon the elven war party came into view, charging right for the company.
"They're uh, coming pretty quick," Pipp said, worried.
"Close ranks!" Thorin cried.
The company stood steadfast in closed formation, weapons drawn in preparation for any open hostility towards them. Of course, only Izzy was undaunted by the threat the company believed the elves posed towards them, simply smiling and waving at the surrounding elven soldiers. Eventually, the elves halted, and their leader made his appearance at last: he shared most of the key elven features as Lindir, except his face was more aged with many of a long experience.
"Gandalf," he greeted.
"Lord Elrond," Gandalf smiled.
"That's Elrond?" Pipp whispered.
"You expected more?" Zipp smirked.
Elrond and Gandalf continued to speak elvish for a short period, with Izzy continuing to idolize the very sounding nature of the non-understandable language. Though it was clear from the fluctuations in their voices that Gandalf and Elrond were old friends.
"Strange for orcs to come so close to our borders," Elrond noted, with a hint of amusement. "Something or someone has drawn them near."
"Ah, that may have been us," Gandalf responded.
Thorin then approached Elrond.
"Welcome, Thorin, son of Thrain," he greeted, genuinely smiling.
"I do not believe we have met," Thorin responded, rather dryly, but not as an insult.
"You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew Thror when he ruled under the mountain."
"Indeed? He made no mention of you."
Elrond then spoke again in elvish, Izzy again enamored at the sounding of the words she had yet to understand.
"What is he saying? Does he offer us insults?!" Gloin spat.
"Gloin! Wait!" Zipp halted.
"No, master Gloin, he is offering you food," said Gandalf bluntly.
That got the dwarves attention, and they huddled together in whispered discussion.
"I say we take this opportunity while it stands," Zipp whispered.
"We're all weary, anyway," Sunny added. "And starving."
The company turned back to Elrond, having made up their minds.
"Very well," Gloin spoke up. "In that case lead on."
The company were all soon sat at a table of a prepared dinner. Elrond, Gandalf, Thorin, Hitch, Zipp, Pipp, and Sunny were seated at the height of the table, while the others were all spread along both sides.
"Try it," Dori egged to his brother. "Just a mouthful."
"I don't like green food," Ori complained.
Dwalin was searching aimlessly through the greenery of their feast "Where's the meat?"
"Have they got any chips?"
Izzy was seated between Bombur and Bifur, gleefully stuffing her mouth with any of the food that was in hoof's length. "You should try this, it's really good," she smiled, before stuffing an entire stack of greens into her mouth. "My combibents to the fef!"
Pipp was busying herself with the beautiful tones and calming sounds, findiing serenity like no other, while Oin stuffed his ear trumpet with a napkin, much to the merriment of the other dwarves.
The ones who sat nearest Elrond gave him their found weapons for examination.
"This is Orchrist," he analyzed with wonder. "The Goblin-cleaver. A famous blade forged by the High Elves of the West, my kin. May it serve you well."
He handed it back to Thorin, who looked to it with intrigue, then looked to Gandalf's sword. "This is Glamdring, the Foehammer, sword of the King of Gondolin. These were made for the Goblin wars of the First Age."
Bilbo had been listening in on their conversation, and took a glimpse at his own sword, before Balin stopped him.
"I wouldn't bother laddie. Swords are named for the great deeds they do in war."
"What are you saying, my sword hasn't seen battle?" Bilbo asked, incredulous.
"I'm not actually sure it is sword," Balin replied regrettably. "More of a letter-opener, really."
Pipp heard Balin's response to Bilbo, and feeling of the same plight decided not to reveal the splendid shield she found.
Elrond then turned to the bow and arrow. "This is Belthronding, 'The-strong-stiff-thing' and this is Dailir. They were long thought lost following the War of Wrath."
"What happened, during the War of Wrath?" Sunny asked, reproachfully.
"I was not a part of it, so I cannot say young one. What I can say, is that it brought the First Age to an end."
Sunny looked back to the food, unsure of the emotions she was feeling. This world had so much rich history, but most of it was cloaked in violence.
"About the arrow, Dailir you called it," Zipp spoke up. "For some reason, while it's the only arrow I got, it somehow always returns even after from firing at a long distance."
"That is because it is unerring and ever-returning. It never misses its mark and never leaves its master, or in this case mistress, to fend for herself."
He handed them back to Zipp, who looked back on her finds with much greater admiration.
"This is Dagmor, 'The-slayer-of-darkness," he analyzed Sunny's sword. "This used to belong to the man Beren, who carried it all throughout the wilds of Beleriand and to the steps of Angband."
"Where's that?" Sunny asked, intrigued.
"The fortress that layed behind the protection of Thangorodrim, for the Dark Lord Morgoth."
Gandalf shivered.
"What happened to him?"
"He was defeated at the War of Wrath, and cast into the Lonely Void, where he remains."
Sunny took back her sword with great uneasiness, growing pale at her own reflection in its glint.
"How did you come by these?" Elrond asked to Gandalf.
"We found them in a Troll-hoard," Gandalf replied. "On the Great East Road...shortly before we were ambushed by orcs."
"And what were you doing on the Great East Road?"
"Excuse me," Thorin interrupted, before shortly taking his leave of the table.
"Thirteen dwarves, five ponies, and a halfling. Hm. Strange traveling companions, Gandalf," Elrond continued.
"These are the descendants of the house of Durin," Gandalf interjected. "They're noble, decent folk. And they're surprisingly cultured. They've got a deep love of the arts. And the ponies are quite the colorful band as well."
Hitch felt somewhat flattered, especially at the comment coming from Gandalf. He also felt like both he and Elrond were in cahoots on the subject of he and his friends' coming.
Finally, Elrond took a glance at the sword that was claimed by Hitch, but also the longest, because Hitch and Gandalf could see the wonderment in his eyes.
"My Lord," Hitch asked. "What is it?"
"This is Anguirel," Elrond responded.
"What about it peaks your interest, if you don't mind me saying," Sunny asked.
"I don't mind, and it is appropriate to be inquisitive."
Hitch glanced towards Sunny, not trying to catch anyone's attention.
"In the common tongue it is known as 'Iron-of-the-fiery-star.' This is one of two swords forged by the dark elf Eöl, this he kept for himself, until it was stolen by his son, Maeglin before he and his mother, Aredhel fled to the refuge of Gondolin. Also thought to have been lost following the Fall of Gondolin."
Hitch stared wide-eyed and opened-eared at Elrond's extensive knowledge. He had been around since when, definitely following the end of the First Age, whenever how long ago that was.
"Its brother was given as a gift to the High King Thingol, before coming to Turin, son of Hurin. It was from that blade that fell Glaurung, father of the dragons, before it fell Turin."
Elrond's voice had shifted to a sound of tragedy, and though Hitch was unsure of the history left-out, he understood the plight of sadness the history of the blades carried and said no more. He took back the sword, as he noticed the sound of the music had taken up the tragedy on Elrond's mind. The composition in the common tongue is known as "Of Turin Turambar": one of the more well-known tragedies of love, loss, manipulation, and betrayal.
"Change the tune, why don't you? I feel like I'm at a funeral," Nori complained.
"Did somebody die?" Oin asked, napkin still stuffed down his ear trumpet.
"There's beauty in the music," Pipp retorted. "Beauty that you don't appreciate nor understand."
"All right lads," Bofur piped up, voicing the complaints of the other dwarves, and climbing the table to Elrond's eye level. "There's only one thing for it."
"Bofur: Ooohhhh, there's an inn, there's an inn, there's a merry old inn beneath an old gray hill, Dwarf chorus: And there they brew a beer so brown That the Man in the Moon himself came down one night to drink his fill.
The ostler has a tipsy cat that plays a five-stringed fiddle; And up and down he runs his bow, Now squeaking high, now purring low, now sawing in the middle.
The landlord keeps a little dog that is mighty fond of jokes; When there's good cheer among the guests, He cocks an ear at all the jests, and laughs until he chokes."
"Personally, I greatly enjoyed the beautiful elven music," Pipp said to Hitch, who also missed the serenity of Rivendell's finest, but could not help himself to enjoy the low-toned dwarven vocals.
"They also keep a hornéd cow as proud as any queen; But music turns her head like ale, And makes her wave her tufted tail and dance upon the green.
"And O! the rows of silver dishes and the store of silver spoons! For Sunday there's a special pair, And these they polish up with care on Saturday afternoons."
By now, Izzy had joined in on the jig, tapping her hooves to the delightful amusement of Bifur and Bombur, while Sunny remained silent and fixated on her thoughts of claiming Dagmor.
"The Man in the Moon was drinking deep, and the cat began to wail; A dish and a spoon on the table danced, The cow in the garden madly pranced, and the little dog chased his tail.
The Man in the Moon took another mug, and then rolled beneath his chair; And there he dozed and reamed of ale, Till in the sky the stars were pale, and dawn was in the air.
Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat: 'The white horses of the moon, They neigh and champ their silver bits; But their master's been and drowned his wits, and the Sun's be rising soon!'"
So the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle, a jig that would wake the dead: He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune, While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon: 'It's after three!' he said.
They rolled the Man slowly up the hill and bundled him into the Moon, While his horses galloped up in rear, And the cow came capering like a deer, and a dish ran up with the spoon."
The tempo quickened, much to the annoyance of the elven musicians, especially after the dwarves began throwing their food all about the dining table.
"Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle; the dog began to roar, The cow and the horses stood on their heads; The guests bounded form their beds and danced up on the floor.
With a ping and a ping the fiddle-strings broke! the cow jumped over the Moon, And the little dog laughed to see such fun, And the Saturday dish went off at a run with the silver Sunday spoon.
The round Moon rolled behind the hill as the Sun raised up her head. She hardly believed her fiery eyes; For though it was day, to her surprise they all went back to bed!"
Later on into the evening, Thorin, Balin, Bilbo, Sunny, Zipp, Gandalf, and Elrond were in the Rivendell library, and of course Thorin refused to show his map to Elrond, much to Gandalf's growing hindrance.
"Our business is no concern of elves," Thorin stated.
"For goodness sake, Thorin," Gandalf sighed. "Show him the map."
"It is the legacy of my people. It is mine to protect, as are its secrets."
"You sound like my mom when she's addressing the press," Zipp remarked.
"You make her sound almost unbearable," Sunny said.
"That's only true during press conferences."
"Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves," Gandalf sighed. "Your pride will be your downfall. You stand in the presence of one of the few in Middle-earth...who can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond."
Bilbo looked to his pony companions with great impatience towards both Thorin and Gandalf. After some contemplation, Thorin finally gave in and handed the map to Elrond.
"Thorin, no," Balin protested.
"Let him have it, Balin," Zipp groaned, sharing Bilbo's impatience.
Elrond took one glance at the map before his suspicions were aroused.
"Erebor?" he said at last. "What is your interest in this map?"
Thorin was about to reply, but Gandalf spoke up first. "It's mainly academic. As you know, this sort of artifact sometimes contains hidden text. You still read ancient Dwarvish, do you not?"
Elrond took a short time analyzing the map, before something within caught his eye. "Cirth Ithil ."
"Moon runes?" Gandalf perked up. "Of course."
"What are moon runes?" Sunny asked.
"Ever inquisitive are you?" Gandalf complimented, while Sunny blushed with embarrassment. "Moon runes are system of writing created by the dwarves for hiding writings. An easy thing to miss."
"Well, in this case, it is true," Elrond continued. "Moon runes can only be read by the light of a moon...and sometimes only of the same shape and season as the day on which they were written."
"Can you read them?" Thorin asked, no longer overly protective of his family heirloom.
"These runes were written on a Midsummer's Eve by the light of a crescent moon nearly 200 years ago. It would seem you were meant to come to Rivendell. Fate is with you, Thorin Oakenshield. The same moon shines upon us tonight."
Elrond then led the party to an overlooking rock with a crystal-clear pedestal right at the forefront of the rock. The moon in question was a crescent glow, that shown brightly through the passing clouds as Elrond placed the map onto the pedestal, and the moon's glow made appear a secret writing that shown in the bright color of the moon itself.
"What does it say?" Sunny asked.
"'Stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole,'" Elrond read aloud.
"Durin's Day?" Bilbo asked to Balin.
"It is the start of the Dwarves' new year, when the last moon of autumn, and the first sun of winter appear in the sky together," Gandalf explained.
Thorin took some long pondering thoughts on this new information. "This is ill news. Summer is passing. Durin's Day will soon be upon us."
"We still have time," Balin chimed in.
"Time?" Bilbo asked again. "For what?"
"To find the entrance. We have to be standing in exactly the right spot at exactly the right time. Then, and only then, can the door be opened."
"So this is your purpose, to enter the mountain?" Elrond mused.
"What of it?" Thorin sneered.
"There are some who would not deem it wise."
"What do you mean?" Gandalf asked.
"You are not the only guardian to stand watch over Middle-earth."
The following day was uneventful, mostly because the dwarves were no longer wanted at the dinner table. Instead, they ate more than their fare share of food and drink of wine in their guestrooms, and laughing away at their own brand of humor and loudly belching to their own song and dancing, much to the chagrin of the elves. The ponies had taken to strolling about the place, taking in all the sights and feelings of the Valley.
That evening, as the sun waned, Bilbo and Sunny were exploring the depths of the library, taking great input on the Shards of Narsil and a painting depicting the final duel between Isildur and Sauron, and though neither of them knew the full extent of their meanings, neither of them also knew of the other's focus on the golden ring on one of the black fingers.
Later on, they were resting on a balcony, looking over the sunset, when a voice approached them from behind.
"Not with your companions?" Bilbo and Sunny looked behind to see Elrond.
"No, my friends know I'm here," Sunny stammered, still embarrassed to even face the famed elven lord.
"I shan't be missed," Bilbo replied with a sigh. "The truth is that most of them don't think I should be on this journey."
"Well, we do. Myself, Hitch, Zipp, Pipp, and Izzy. Gandalf as well."
"Indeed?" Elrond amused. "I've heard that hobbits are resilient."
"Really?" Bilbo looked up.
"I've also heard they're very fond of the comforts of home."
Bilbo looked around before making his response. "I've heard that it's unwise to seek the council of Elves. That they will only answer with 'Yes' and 'No'."
Elrond looked down to the hobbit with an indiscernible expression, as Bilbo's feet began to grow cold. However, he then smiled, with Bilbo lightly chuckling, and then he placed his hand calmly onto Bilbo's shoulder.
"You are very welcome to stay here, if that is your wish."
Bilbo was flabbergasted at the offer, and he soon left to greatly ponder with his own thoughts.
Elrond then turned to Sunny, who was still frozen in shock with him still standing over her.
"My offer goes out to you, and your friends as well," he said.
Sunny stood lost in thought, uncomplacent and unsure about this offering. "Well, to be honest," she stammered. "I'm uh...I don't know. I mean, I mean the best for my friends, not just the ones that came with me, you know? And if they need help retaking their homeland, and we happen to be skillful enough to assist, then we, at least I, will do my part."
"And you are sure that your friends share this motive?"
Sunny stopped in her stuttering. Were her friends really willing to help the dwarves on this quest? What if they were all thinking of nothing but themselves, not caring for the dwarves' plight, and Bilbo's?
"I-y-yes?"
"You sound unsure?"
"I am, my lord."
Though Sunny's insecurities were eating her heart out, Elrond returned the same smile he gave to Bilbo, and her burden was somewhat lifted.
"You have chosen your friends well, do not forget that. They are special, as are you."
Sunny looked up the the elven lord, seeing a new glint in his eyes. It was the glint of a father.
"You remind me much of Arwen, my daughter."
"Is she pretty?"
"There are those who believe she is Luthien reincarnated. You are the same with your mother."
"Wait-how'd-how-?"
"You come from a world that is rife with such magic that I know not in this one. Long have Gandalf and I watched over your world, since its very beginning."
Sunny's eyes lit up. "You have?! Then you seen-!"
She stopped when Elrond's laughter filled her ears.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean...I just got excited and..."
"You remind me so much of your father as well. I watched him particularly as he grew, bore and raised you, and when he passed."
Sunny's memories of her father's passing resurfaced into her mind. The familiar unwanted lump in her throat returned, while she fought to keep back her tears.
"My lord," she sniveled. "What do I do?"
"You must look to your friends," Elrond consoled. "For they will not only give you light, but hope as well."
While Sunny continued to wander the halls of Rivendell for the remainder of the evening, elsewhere Lindir was voicing his concerns to Elrond in elvish about the dwarves staying. Suddenly, Izzy rushed from around the corner stopping right in front of them beaming with great pride. Presently, Hitch and Pipp came rushing behind, out of breath.
"Our apologies...my lord," Hitch panted. "It's just that...when she gets it...in her head...she can be..."
"She can get lost in herself..." Pipp added. "More often than not...that's usually the case."
"I was hoping you could teach me elvish," Izzy stated, still beaming wide.
Lindir looked to Elrond, dazed in confusion, and apprehensive towards the unicorn before them.
Elrond, who took a liking to young Izzy, simply smiled back. "I believe it is time you three prepared yourselves for dinner."
A nearby splashing was heard, and Pipp was in time to cover Izzy's with her wing, right as Hitch covered her gaze with his hoof. Lindir on the other hand looked on in disgust at the sight before him: the dwarves, minus Thorin, were bathing in the springs right across the way, this time without their undergarments as well.
"What are we looking at?" Izzy asked, still oblivious.
"You don't want to know," Pipp replied shaking her head.
"Why? Is there blood?"
"Well, it's more along the lines of..." Hitch began, but stopped as the sickening feeling of hunger came into his stomach. "Yeah...you don't want to know," he said, now tightly gripping his eyelids shut.
He then turned in the direction of what he felt was the way back towards the guestrooms, and while he trotted slowly, the girls blindly following in his hoof-steps, that did not stop him from stumbling right over the steps that led away from the unruly sight behind them. When Hitch did finally open his eyes, after landing flatly onto his back, he was taken aback with even more shock as Pipp stared down into his eyes with equal shock in hers.
A light chuckle from Izzy brought their attentions back to Middle-earth.
"What?" Hitch said defensively.
"I think it's adorable," Izzy repleid, still beaming.
"What-w-w-w-wha, what are you talking about?"
"H-hey! Lord Elrond said dinner will soon be ready!" Pipp abruptly cried.
"Y-yeah! I'm-I'm feeling hungry too!"
And with that, and Izzy still smiling, the ponies rejoined the company to their own feast: a couple of greens while the dwarves ate cooked meat and sausages on a homemade campfire in their guestrooms, using of course their furniture as fuel. Presently, Bofur noticed a strain on the table that Bombur was sitting on for eating his dinner.
"Bombur," he called, before tossing a sausage into Bombur's hand, right as the table finally gave way, with only the ponies, minus Izzy, and Bifur, laughing greatly into the evening.
Sunny and Bilbo were a ways distance from their fool-hardy companions, taking a break from all the ruckus, when they heard and saw that Elrond and Gandalf were conversating again.
"Of course I was going to tell you. I was waiting for this very chance," Gandalf said. "And really, I think you can trust that I know what I am doing."
"Do you?" Elrond questioned. "That dragon has slept for 60 years. What will happen if your plan should fail, if you wake that beast?"
"What if we succeed? If the Dwarves take back the mountain our defenses in the east will be strengthened."
"It is a dangerous move, Gandalf."
Bilbo and Sunny noticed a presence among them, and they turned back to see Thorin, who says nothing as well but gives them a look that wanted them to continue listening and not say another word.
"It is also dangerous to do nothing," Gandalf continued. "Oh, come, the throne of Erebor is Thorin's birthright. What is it you fear?"
"Have you forgotten? A strain of madness runs deep in that family. His grandfather lost his mind. His father succumbed to the same sickness. Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?"
They then looked back again to see Thorin turned away from the conversation at hand, and the plight on his face was written all over. A new understanding had formed between the two, that the treasure hoard of Erebor will be as dangerous within the mind of anyone who might be weak-minded enough to succumb; but that surely would not happen, right? The vision nightmare of the thought was giving a great sickening feeling to Sunny, who turned uneasily away and headed past Thorin.
"I just need to rest, that's all," she moaned.
"Rest as much as you can," he said. "We set out at full light." He would not admit it to the others, least of all himself, but he had grown a like fondness for the ponies of Equestria.
He still remained indecisively against Bilbo's part in the company, for his understanding of their burglar will come much later on the journey, when the light of hope will seem faded.
Author's Note
This chapter is for all of you Tolkien-aficionados out there
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The Hobbit: Third-Age Generation
Chapter Six: Out of the Frying-Pan and into the Fire
Chapter Six: Out of the Frying-Pan and Into the Fire
The company made haste without delay on their rush from the goblin tunnels, and did not stop until all were sure of their weapons fully dimmed. Once all were caught up in a ring of trees, Gandalf began counting off the dwarves and ponies.
"Six, seven, eight, Zipp, Pipp, that makes ten," he counted. "Bifur, Bofur, that's twelve. Sunny, Izzy, Hitch, fifteen. Fili and Kili, that's seventeen. And Bombur, that makes eighteen."
"Good," Pipp sighed exhausted. "We're all here and accounted for."
Hitch looked around his friends, grateful that none were dead, until something stifled his short-lived congratulations; rather, what was missing.
Bilbo Baggins was no where to be found among the company!
"Where's Bilbo?" he gasped.
"Where is our hobbit?" Gandalf called, also noticing his absence.
"I-I don't see him anywhere!" Sunny exclaimed.
"Curse that halfling!" Dwalin grumbled. "Now he's lost?!"
"I thought I saw him with Dori," Izzy pondered aloud.
"Don't blame me!" Dori snapped.
"Leave her alone!" Bombur grumbled.
"Well, where is he?" Gandalf asked.
"I think I saw him slip away when they first collared us," Nori put in.
"And what happened exactly?! Tell me!"
"I'll tell you what happened!" Thorin spoke up. "Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it! He has thought of nothing bit his soft bed and his warm hearth...ever since he left home."
"So, at least he's alive, right?" Pipp stammered, much to the muse of Zipp.
"We will not be seeing our hobbit again," Thorin finished. "He is long gone."
Sunny stood by, furthest from the focused point of the conversation, thinking back to when Lord Elrond approached both her and Bilbo back in Rivendell, and how he offered for them to stay behind in the sanctity of the Last Homely House. Most likely after Thorin's spat to Bilbo he took the moment and ran off right back to the home of the elves. Perhaps it is for the best, she thought. After all, he is just one hobbit.
"No," a voice called from behind a tree, right before Bilbo appeared fit as a fiddle, minus all his waistcoat buttons. "He isn't."
Beaming with such a pride that he had not known for such a time, Sunny rushed forward and embraced the hobbit, who was of course taken aback in shock.
"Bilbo Baggins!" Gandalf smiled. "I have never been so glad to see anyone in my life!"
"I thought you left! Or died!" Sunny smiled.
"Well uh," Hitch stammered. "He might have."
Sunny stepped off of Bilbo intrigued and confused about Hitch's remark. "What do you mean?"
"While I was on watch, I uh...caught Bilbo as he was leaving."
Sunny turned back to Bilbo, flabbergasted. "You were? But...how did you escape the goblins?"
"How indeed," Dwalin smirked.
Bilbo held up a finger for a moment of patience, as both Zipp and Gandalf notice him slipping a small object into his waistcoat pocket.
"Well, what does it matter?" Gandalf said, trying his best to deflect the topic, mostly for Bilbo's sake. "He's back."
"It matters," Thorin approached. "I want to know. Why did you come back?"
Bilbo took his time before he formulated his response. "Look, I know you doubt me. I know you always have. And you're right, I often think of Bag End. I miss my books. And my armchair and my garden. See, that's where I belong. That's home. And that's why I came back. Because...you don't have one. A home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can."
"I'm with Bilbo," Hitch stepped forward. "While my friends and I came from a distant world, we volunteered to this journey to help you. We have a home, should we return, but you don't, and that's not fair. And I, for one, with follow the King under the Mountain."
Hitch smiled to Thorin, not from his ego, but right from the heart, who looked back to the pony with a greater admiration, and if he were to stand beside the burglar, perhaps the little hobbit has a chance yet to prove his worth.
Suddenly, once again, Zipp ears perked up a distant sound, unfortunately it was a familiar one...one of a rushing danger. Pipp caught the sounds too.
"I thought you said goblins can't stand the sunlight!" she panicked.
"They don't, neither do their orc brethren, or any other creature of the darkness," Gandalf replied, collective but ominous.
The howling and snarling of wargs were soon known to all of the company, freezing them in terror. The orc pack from before had tracked them past the Misty Mountains, having received the tip from the goblin messenger after scrambling from Elrond's host.
"Out of the frying-pan..." Thorin began.
"...and into the fire," Gandalf finished. "Run! RUN!"
The company took off like shots into the waning night, the warg howling closing as fast as their feet and hooves pelted past the firtrees and boulders. No beating about the bush was necessary, for the rugged terrain slowed their escape enough for a single warg to charge ahead, catching its sights on Bilbo.
"Bilbo, look out!" Sunny cried.
Bilbo took out his sword right as it snarled its jaws charged for him, having the sword impaled right through its cranium as Bilbo was shoved back in shock.
Zipp twanged Dailir into a warg's leg, losing its balance over the cliffside, while yet another warg trapped its fangs on Anvil, and using the strength she could muster, Pipp charged it ahead before Hitch implanted Anguirel right through its neck.
"Thanks," Pipp gasped for breath.
"Pleasure, m'lady," Hitch gasped as well.
"Charming," she smiled, greatly flattered.
Bilbo pulled out his sword before rushing to catch with the others, as the ponies followed closely in their feet, reaching right to the edge of the cliff overlooking the deep valley below.
"What do we do now?!" Sunny cried in panic.
"Up into the trees!" Gandalf called to the company. "All of you! Come on, climb! Bilbo, climb!"
The dwarves rushed up the branches the best they could, Izzy piggybacking off of Bombur, and Sunny being hoisted up by Thorin. Pipp rushed forward, launching airborne clutching Hitch tightly as she flew to the highest but most stable branches. Bilbo had trouble catching the lowest branch, so Zipp swooped down and placed him up in regards to the company's safety.
No sooner had the wargs gathered under the trees did their leader make himself finally known. The ponies and dwarves stared wide-eyed terror: astride the white warg was a giant of an orc, pale and battle scared, with an amputee on his left hand, and evilly grinning his fangs.
"Oh, my word!" Sunny panted in fear.
"So, he did not die," Hitch stared.
Thorin looked on his oldest adversary the most, filled with terror and horrified eyes. "Azog," he gasped. "It cannot be."
Azog grinned with delightful triumph, no doubt he meant to face Thorin Oakenshield in single combat. He roared in orchish, sending the snarling and howling wargs right to the bases of the trees holding the company in their mercy, gnashing and clawing away the bark in chips.
"They're right under us!" Pipp cried. "Now what?!"
She was answered by the form of their very trees toppling over like a stack of dominos, and the company rushing into one tree after another until they were all housed in the firtree that grew mighty and strong right at the very cliff's edge. Right above, Gandalf took and pinecone and using his staff, ignited a small flame that encompassed the pinecone right before he tossed right to the gathered wargs amongst the undergrowth.
"Gandalf!" Izzy cried. "Toss me one of those!"
She caught the burning pinecone with her glowing magic, right before she hurled it right between the eyes of an angry warg, sending it away in a fiery blind.
The rest of the company caught the idea: taking the lighted pinecones, lighting their own, and hurling them down in a rainstorm of fire, sending many a warg running off in various whimpering directions.
"How many did you hit?" Pipp called to Zipp.
"Four," she replied, smiling.
"Four? I got six!"
"Seven!" Kili exclaimed.
"Nine!" Fili added.
Their cheering congratulations were unfortunately short-lived, for the very tree that housed their safety soon toppled in its roots, until it dangled straight and sharp as an edge. That was the end of the flaming firtrees.
Ori lost his grip but then caught Dori's leg, screaming in terror. "MR. GANDALF!" Dori cried.
"HOLD ON!" Izzy cried. Not thinking she leapt to Dori who caught her hooves, but then she slipped from her branch. Gandalf quickly stuck out his staff to Izzy who tightly gripped its end with her teeth.
"IZZY!" Sunny cried.
Bombur lunged right for Izzy but Bifur held him back, on account of the creaking strain in the wood.
"CAN'T YOU GIRLS FLY?!" Gloin screamed while gripping his brother.
"We can't hold every single one of you!" Pipp shouted. "Not even one of you!"
Hitch held himself beside Bilbo, keeping their gaze up and away from the valley below. Azog gleamed evilly with pride, as he always did whenever his victims were at his mercy, more so especially since the great Oakenshield was among his prey. Thorin glared up at the Pale Orc, overcome in the very same shadow that saw the head of his grandfather roll from the pale hand, and as his own father became grieved beyond madness, and he stood firm in vengeance.
Hitch could only watch as Thorin revealed Orchrist and his namesake shield as he charged his adversary, as Azog had his warg charge right into Thorin. As he got up, Azog charged again, swinging his club sending Thorin backwards. Hitch stood as the White Warg gripped Thorin painfully in its fangs, as he yelled in pain.
"THORIN!" Dwalin shouted. "NO!"
Still chewing on Thorin, Azog watched with delight as the company screamed his name, until he swung Orchrist at the White Warg, and it threw him sprawling back onto the nearest rock. Azog then hopped off of his evil steed, and wielding his twisted blade, he slowly approached his adversary, savoring every waking moment as he stomped right over.
Hitch could no longer stand idly, his friend was in danger, and he vowed to follow him to the Lonely Mountain all the way. Unsheathing Anguirel, as it shone brighter than the moon, he charged right over the tree galloping like the sheriff never could before. Azog raised his blade, Thorin helpless as Orchrist lay just out of reach, and right as the head of the heir of Durin would become his own, a swing of the Iron-of-the-Fiery-Star cleaved right through the pale neck ended his reign.
The pale head rolled a distance as its slayer rolled uncontrollably till he steadied himself, undaunted by the ugly head staring blankly back to its downfall. Hitch breathed himself calmly, before he spoke: "Listen to me, Azog," Hitch hissed. "The King belongs under the Mountain, and I made a vow to bring him there."
Keeping Anguirel sharp he leapt between the closing in pack, and the enraged rider-less warg, now that Thorin laid unconsciously and vulnerable. Hitch's combat experience remained still novice at best, but Anguirel understood and followed its masters intent of protection, for the pack remained behind the tip any way they could.
From the sudden sky came a gleam of the shining morn, and the pack jumped in surprise before the fluttering smoothness of the pegasus Pipp Petals and the strength of Anvil.
"What are you doing here?" Hitch gasped in surprise.
"You can't protect the King on your own," she stood firm. "And I also didn't want to see you killed for nothing!"
Hitch stared back in flattered confusion. "Should I feel congratulated?"
"Foolish, definitely. But yes."
So the two friends stood side by side, as the last line of defense for the King under the Mountain. The pack hesitated at the combined glow of Anguirel and Anvil, though the ponies were becoming vastly outnumbered, and at last the White Warg finally made a charge forward, only to be shot right between the eyes as it fell with a great thud that frightened the pack, and in one blink Dailir left only the scar as it returned to Zipp's quiver as she fired from the aerial vantage point.
"You wouldn't leave your older sister out of all the fun, would you?" she smirked.
"Give it to 'em, Zipp!" Hitch cried in delight.
Zipp twanged Dailir from the brandishing of Belthronding, never once missing its intended target and always returning to its mistress, not even when warg nor orc attempted to flee. While Anguirel followed the movements of its master, finally earning his respect and glad to follow, for Anvil stuck with its mistress, keeping close at hoof to the protection that no harm should come to Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. The dwarves, Bilbo, Gandalf, and Sunny watched in shock and awe as the ponies fought to defend the king, Sunny more worse for where: her friends were fighting to the death to defend Thorin, and she had not the will to assist.
Suddenly, a cry from overhead came followed behind great fearsome creatures that swooped in gripping the nearest warg or orc with great sharp talons of spears.
"What are they?!" Pipp cried.
"Don't fear them," Hitch calmed. "They're eagles, and they're here to save us."
"How do you know?!"
"I...just have a feeling, that's all."
At that moment, Izzy cried and screamed for she lost her grip on Gandalf's staff, and poor Dori and Ori still clung for dear life.
"IZZY!" Zipp cried, before swooping down and grabbing Izzy by the waist, right as Dori lost his grip and screamed louder. Luckily, an eagle heard their screams and caught the brothers, who still had not lost their fearful terror.
The eagles made short work of the orc pack, and all who could carried at least two dwarves each. Bilbo had his own, though in a panic Sunny slipped from her branch, but was caught on the back of a faithful eagle.
"What's going on?!" she yelped.
"Calm yourself, little one," the eagle consoled. "You and your friends are now under the protection of the Lord of the Eagles of the Misty Mountains."
Sunny was not at all completely relieved. "You know, you're the first eagle that's ever spoken to me."
"As are you the first pony who has spoken to me. Fear not, your friends will be safe."
Hitch and Pipp remained beside Thorin, when out appeared an eagle who gently gripped his still body before taking off behind the others.
"Suppose we ought to catch up-" Hitch began right before Pipp hoisted him by his underbelly and catching the draft behind the eagles.
"My, you're a ton," Pipp remarked.
Hitch paid no attention to her voice, instead only to how soft her hooves felt, and to how Thorin never seemed to awaken while airborne. The eagles flew some distance, and not only till the sun peaked over the horizon did the eagles swoop downwards for a landing on a tall rock peak overlooking the distant valley.
Gandalf rode above the Lord himself, who gently placed Thorin to silent rest. Pipp and Hitch landed soon thereafter, who dashed to his side.
"Thorin!" Hitch cried, greatly feared for the worst possible outcome. "Thorin! Thorin, please don't be dead. Not yet, not when we're so close."
"Hey, hey don't worry," Pipp smiled. "Look, he's alive!"
Thorin stirred, shifted, and awoke in the burning morning, the sunshine sharing in the beauty and hope.
"Master Trailblazer," Thorin gasped. "Hitch. Had you no common-sense?"
"Never mind it Thorin. We're all here and alive."
"The halfling?"
Bilbo stood behind, despondent grateful for Thorin's rescue. Hitch looked back, and smiled to his friend, and Bilbo could not help himself but return the smile.
"He's alright."
Thorin's face went grim as attempted to stand, Hitch and Zipp helping him to his feet. "What of Azog?" he demanded. "What happened to him?"
"Would you recognize his blood?" Hitch said as he unsheathed Anguirel, letting it gleam happily in the morning light as Thorin inspected the still-wet orc blood, until his eyes widened with realization. He turned back to Hitch, who beamed with pride.
"You no longer have to be bothered with the likes of him."
"You...slew, the Pale Orc?"
"Please, I have all the congratulations I need."
Thorin then suddenly embraced him in joyful tears. "You have more than my congratulations, my friend!" Thorin released the sheriff as he stood firm, took out Orchrist to hold it straight, and Hitch instinctively kneeled before him. "As King of Erebor, I hereby knight thee 'Sir Hitch Trailblazer', knight under the Mountain."
"Thorin-I mean, my liege, if it hadn't been for the protection of Zipp and Pipp, I would not have lasted much longer."
Thorin smiled greatly, for he saw the truth in his eyes. "Princess Storm. Princess Petals."
The sisters approached either side of Hitch, kneeling in respect as Thorin held aloft the gleam of Orchrist. "I hereby knight thee 'Lady Zephyrina Storm', knight under the Mountain." He then turned to Pipp. "I hereby knight thee 'Lady Pipp Petals', knight under the Mountain."
The sisters beamed with more pride than ever before. "Wait until we tell mother of this adventure!" Pipp exclaimed.
"This will surely appeal to your followers," Zipp remarked, smiling.
"This is my greatest honor Tho- my liege," Hitch corrected.
Thorin turned away from his new Knights of Erebor to face the smiling relief of Gandalf, and the company wonderous that their king is alive and well, Izzy smiled the greatest. Sunny nodded to him, before turning her saddening gaze to the ground to herself, contemplating how that her friends received titles of honor for such brutality.
"Oh, great Lord of the Eagles," Gandalf thanked, with many a gratitude. "We are eternally grateful for your rescue.
"I have not forgotten the arrow that brought me down so many years ago," the Lord of the Eagles replied. "I have also not forgotten the wizard who found me and healed me wound. And now, farewell wherever you fare!" The Lord and his eagles then spread and took off back to their sanctity of the Misty Mountains. "Till your eyries receive you at the journey's end!"
"May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks," answered Gandalf, who knew the correct reply.
Bilbo then stepped out from the company to look in the far off distance from atop their peak. The very shape was visible for all too see.
"Is that what I think it is?" he asked. The company, especially Thorin, turned and stared in wonderment at the sight that befallen them: a singular mountain peak amidst a field of trees.
"Erebor," Gandalf wholeheartedly replied. "The Lonely Mountain. The last of the great dwarf kingdoms of Middle-earth."
"Our home," Thorin prided.
"A raven! The birds are returning to the mountain," Oin beamed.
"That's a thrush, actually," Hitch corrected.
"But we'll take it as a sign," Thorin said, once again hopeful for the journey ahead. "A good omen."
"You're right," Bilbo sighed. "I do believe the worst is behind us."
Thorin looked to the hobbit, and while he still remained skeptical of his value among the company, his escape and reasoning to remain with the company had touched and peaked his intrigued. Perhaps the more to Master Baggins was yet to come.
Elsewhere, a great beast lied amongst the most splendid plunder in all the land, and he had just awoken from a nightmare: some of the most strangest looking creatures had dared intrude his rightly won land, and had the audacity to call him out. While it was only a dream, Smaug had learned since his youth that it was the pride of his enemies that brought their downfall.
And the more shining gold on one's possession, the more pride to sink it in.
Author's Note
Too bad I could not include Fifteen Birds in Five Firtrees
The Hobbit: Third-Age Generation
Chapter Seven: Queer Lodgings
Chapter Seven: Queer Lodgings
Bilbo peered over the rock from whence the company was hid. A day had passed since the company had been rescued from the eagles, and now the sun was rising on said day. He looked to see mounted figures riding across the distant mountain tops, and though they were definitely orcs, they looked to be the same brethren of the late Azog. Across the way, he heard a roar and cowered to see a giant of a black bear watching and snarling at the orc pack intently.
Bilbo slipped quietly away to rejoin the company, and they waited for him to report his scouting.
"How close is the pack?" Dwalin asked.
"Too close," Bilbo panted. "A couple of leagues, no more, but that's not the worst of it."
"Have the wargs picked up our scent?"
"Not yet, but they will; we have another problem."
"Did they see you?" Gandalf interjected. "They saw you!"
"No, that's not it."
"What did I tell you?" Gandalf smiled. "Quiet as a mouse. Excellent burglar material."
The dwarves all chuckled at Bilbo's appraisal, however the ponies could see there was a plight overcoming his mind.
"Hey guys. Guys!" Hitch interrupted. "I believe Bilbo's trying to say something else."
"Thank you, again," Bilbo exasperated. "I was trying to tell you there is something else out there."
The company became unusually silent, however Gandalf's was more with worry anticipation than worrying fear.
"What form did it take? Like a bear?"
"Ye..." Bilbo stopped and caught something in his words, a sort of familiarity. It was not surprising that Gandalf knew more than he told, although more often then not his knowledge came at the last minute. "Y-yes, but bigger. Much bigger."
"Exactly how big is the average bear?" Zipp asked.
"About 130 to 600 pounds for the males, and 90 to 175 pounds for the females," Hitch replied without delay. "I keep myself busy reading encyclopedias on my off time."
"Those wouldn't happen to include outdated ones, by any chance?" Sunny smirked.
"I threw them out last Tuesday, but how'd you know about it Gandalf?"
Gandalf simply turned away, not pondering his response but calling on his memory in part of some little details that had been misty for a long while.
"I say we double back," Bofur spoke up.
"And be run down by a pack of orcs," Thorin hissed.
"Unless we can hold out for while somewhere secure," Hitch suggested.
"Quite right," Gandalf said to himself. "There is a house, it's not far from here, where we can take refuge."
"Whose house," Thorin spoke. "Are they friend or foe?"
"Let's hope it's the former," Sunny sighed.
"I like bears! They're so strong and fearsome!" Izzy beamed, to Bombur's hungered uneasiness.
"Neither," Gandalf replied to Thorin. "He will help us, or he will kill us."
"What choice do we have?" Thorin mused.
"It's either seek refuge with someone who has the potential to end our journey, or end our our journey for sure at the hands of an orc pack bent on vengeance," Pipp surmised, as soon as the sound of a roaring bear broke through the morning light.
"We...don't have one...do we?" she said to Gandalf, with great hesitation.
"No," Gandalf bluntly replied.
In no time flat, the company was rushing for cover across plains of grass and flowers separated by smooth surrounding fresh streams, and each one left Pipp more soaked than the prior, though her motivation remained the same as the others: keep ahead of the orc pack as long as dwarvenly and ponily possible, not to mention hobbitly and wizardly. Soon, the fields gave way to a wooded area, dense enough to keep just ahead of the pack through the rugged terrain.
Suddenly, the roar pierced again through the sky, and the company halted in anticipation.
"The pack's stopped in their tracks," Zipp analyzed. "However something else has taken up their trail-"
The roar over the trees jumped her out of concentration.
"This way, quickly!" Gandalf shouted.
"Bombur, Izzy! Come on!" Bofur cried, dragging his cousin and the unicorn out of their temporary state of shock.
The company rushed like they had not yet, and exiting the woods to yet another plain they spotted a ring around a distant house covered by the tree foliage.
"To the house!" Gandalf shouted. "Run!"
Not taking any chances, and to the bewilderment of the company, it was big and tubby Bombur who made the quickest dash for the gateway through the hedge. Izzy and Sunny were right behind him, galloping past giant buzzing bumblebees pollinating near their larger than life hives.
"Wow!" Izzy exclaimed stopping dead as the company rushed behind and passed her.
"Open the door!" Gandalf cried from behind.
"Quickly!" Thorin added, rushing up and through the company barred outside the front door.
"The bumblebees are absolutely ginormous!"
Sunny quickly turned her neck to see the great fearsome black bear rushing right for them, almost nearing through the gate.
"Never mind the bees!" she cried in fear. "Mind the giant bear!"
She then grabbed Izzy and forced themselves behind the company and in passed the door, the dwarves holding it shut as the bear forced its muzzle through and opened crack. The ponies and Bilbo stood guard, holding their elven weapons at the ready, say for Sunny who kept herself tightly close around Izzy, in the more state of fear than the unicorn who caught the attention of a little white mouse.
Gandalf meanwhile, stood back undaunted and taking in a humorous intake at the scenery before him.
"Come on, lads!" Dwalin cried, and with one final heave, the door fully closed as the dwarves drove out the frightening beast of burden.
"What was that?" Ori panted, still in a state of shock and weariness shared by the other dwarves.
"That," Gandalf said. "Was our host."
"The bear, you mean...right, Gandalf?" Hitch stammered.
"I course I do. His name is Beorn, and he is a skin-changer."
"You suppose he pays his mortgage?"
"What do you mean by, 'skin-changer?'" Zipp intrigued.
Izzy helped Sunny steadily to her flat hooves, while she was still shaking.
"You alright?" Izzy asked.
"Apart from almost being mauled by a bear," Sunny unevenly panted. "Everything's dandy."
"You in particular have nothing to fear from Beorn," Gandalf kindly consoled.
"What do you mean?"
"Question after question. To answer yours first Zipp: sometimes he's a huge black bear; sometimes he's a great strong man. The bear is unpredictable, but the man can be reasoned with. To answer your question Sunny: he spends himself surrounded by the kindness and comfort with the woodland critters and untamed roamers of the world. However, he is not over-fond of dwarves."
Izzy happily embraced Sunny while Hitch and the pegasi sighed in shaking weariness, however the dwarves looked to each other in dismay.
Ori peaked through the door, mostly for confirmation's sake on his fears. "He's leaving!" he whispered back to the company.
"Come away from there!" Dori cried, dragging his brother back in recoil. "It's not natural, none of it. It's obvious: he's under some dark spell."
"Don't be a fool; he's under no enchantment but his own," Gandalf reprimanded. "Alright now, get some sleep, all of you. You'll be safe here tonight. I hope," but he muttered it to himself.
"Even with an amount of daylight left?" Hitch asked.
"Never mind the daylight," Pipp yawned. "I need rest anyway."
"What exactly does she mean by, 'feed nest?'" Oin asked, having trouble hearing through his squashed trumpet.
Using her magic, Izzy then gently took the trumpet and a small flower from her saddlebag before reshaping the trumpet while simultaneously tying the small flower. Once finished, she handed it back to Oin, or more or less levitated it to his hand.
"Fain Rhazmal ; Wild Violet," Oin analyzed. "The flower that is said to never wilt. These are sought after for their fragrance and yet none have found one! Where did you find it?!"
"Just outside the house!" Izzy beamed.
Oin immediately put the trumpet to his ear, and became smitten with such a smell that he hugged Izzy without second's thought. After he went off to a place to sleep, Bifur and Bombur approached Izzy, with Bifur revealing from behind his back a small wooden carving the exact shape and color of the bubbly unicorn. Izzy took one look at the small toy before squealing with delight, enough to blow the roof off, embracing both cousins with such gleeful ferocity that Bombur himself was knocked onto his rump.
"THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH!"
Pipp could only smile at her friend's joy as she cuddled comfortably beside her sister, who wrapped her wing around for protection's sake, not that Anvil did not provide any adequate, as such it was limited to only moments of combat and not for eventide's moments of peace. Hitch laid up Anguirel beside Dagmor as he slumped right to his dream without another halt of a snore, while Sunny took some time of reminiscing about the journey thus far before all her conundrums drove her to deep sleep.
Later on into the peaceful evening, Zipp was awoken by the smallest and seemingly insignificant sounding sound that cracked the evening's sounds. She looked over to where Bilbo was sleeping, except instead of sleeping he was twiddling with a small object in his fingers; something with a shine of gold, and a small voice uttering in an ugly sing-song and unfamiliar language:
"Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzum ishi krimpatul. "
Not only did it sound ugly but also riddle with the tone of evil.
"Mmm...mmm, oh yes...yes, right there," Pipp mumbled in her sleep. "So comfortable...so handsome..."
Zipp could only roll her eyes as she too went back to being overcome with whatever sleep was left to recuperate from her systems.
By the morning the sun was shining bright with such a natural beauty, and Hitch was slightly startled by the sight of such humongous bumblebees buzzing right at his face, about the size of his hoofprint. The rest of the company were all gathered at the back door, to the sound and sight of the giant man Beorn chopping wood on a stump with an equally giant-sized ax.
"I say we should leg it and slip out the back way!" Nori suggested.
"I'm not running from anyone from anyone, beast or no," Dwalin gruffed.
"Why should we run from him?" Izzy asked, perplexed. "He's kept us alive and safe, right?"
"True," Zipp added. "I mean, you don't see the orc pack anywhere, do you?"
"There is no point in arguing," Gandalf huffed. "We cannot pass through the Wilderland without Beorn's help. We'll be hunted down, if only we get to the forest."
Just then, Bilbo stuck his head out from behind Thorin, Kili, and Sunny.
"Bilbo, there you are. Now, this will require some delicate handling; we must tread carefully. The last person to have startled him was torn to shreds. I'll go first...Bilbo, Sunny, you both come with me."
Bilbo pointed to himself in stuttered shock, though reluctantly followed behind Sunny after Thorin nodded him forward.
"I'm not so sure about this," Sunny whispered.
"As you once told me: have hope," Hitch smiled.
Sunny felt reimbursed, however dire she also felt about the precarious situation.
"I-I-Is this a good idea?" Bilbo stammered.
"Yes. Now, the rest of you wait here, until I give the signal."
"Right, wait for the signal," Zipp noted.
"Right, and no sudden movements, no loud noises, and don't overcrowd him. Only come out in pairs," Gandalf whispered with emphasis. "Well, actually Bombur um...you count as two so you come out alone.
Bombur continued to eat his larger than life carrot, nodding consolably.
"Remember, wait for the signal." Gandalf began to quietly lead Sunny and Bilbo out in his stead, the company nodding in agreement.
"Hey, what signal would that be?" Hitch turned to ask before seeing they had already left.
Sunny and Bilbo could tell Gandalf was visibly nervous in his steps, for he used to walk so precariously in his boots and staff, though the hobbit and pony looked to each other with a similar fear-ridden smite on both their verily differently shaped faces. Gandalf stopped, swallowed, and slicked back some of his hair before continuing down to where Beorn continued his chore.
"You're nervous," Bilbo noted, right at the sound of another ax chop.
"Nervous?" Gandalf mused. "What nonsense."
He was just larger than Gandalf in height and mass, his face and head covered in a great amount of hair, and wore only a pair of pants on top of leathery and worn shoes. However, Sunny noticed a broken bracket of a chain clamp on his left arm, with only a few links of chain attached.
"Good morning!" Gandalf greeted.
Beorn did not seem to hear Gandalf's voice, as he just went on slicing two more blocks of fresh tree wood.
"Good morning," Gandalf tried again, this time Beorn heard his greeting, and slightly annoyed that someone was impugning on his simply responded, without turning around:
"Who are you?"
"I am Gandalf. Gandalf the Gray."
"Never heard of him.," Beorn growled, now facing his visitors, but not loosening his grip on the ax.
"I'm a wizard!" Gandalf hesitated. "Perhaps you've heard of my cousin, Radagast the Brown. He resides in the southern borders of Mirkwood."
"What do you want?" he growled again, clearly growing impatient as Bilbo and Sunny hid behind the supposed safety of Gandalf's cloak.
"Well, simply to thank you for your hospitality," Gandalf smiled, regaining some amount of courage. "You may have noticed that we took refuge in your lodgings last night."
Bilbo and Sunny then poked out from behind Gandalf, Sunny hoping for a closer look at the host of this astounding ranch. Beorn looked down at the new looking creatures, and while he was intrigued at Sunny's presence he still remained skeptical about the wizard's true intentions.
"Who is this little fellow?" Beorn jumped as he steadied his grip.
"Please, don't hurt him. We mean you and your home no harm," Sunny whimpered, loosing her courage and will power as the great man stared down on her.
While Beorn was unsure about the little pony's origin, he had spent a lifetime raising and maturing young foals to adulthood enough to understand that she was very much unlike the ponies that roamed freely among and around his lands. However different she looked and acted, she also felt scared at his presence, and rightly so. Beorn gently down his ax, and approaching an overly cautions Sunny he knelt to her level, while she backed up two paces. He then slowly stuck out his arm, not smiling but lessening his frown; she then cautiously approached to where he could stroke her mane.
His hands, though gruff and worn with labor and age, also felt meaningful...and fatherly. She then allowed him to embrace her fully, a gentle, warm and welcoming; it was like being hugged by Argyle, like he had not fully died. Her fears of this stranger dried out as her tears washed away in her eyes. He not only felt friendly, but trusted in protection.
He unembraced Sunny, feeling congratulated at her young and wonderful smile, before he stood and looked down to Bilbo.
"This uh, would be Mr. Baggins, from the Shire," Gandalf stammered, as Bilbo became fully visible to Beorn, who shifted his ax in suspicion.
"He is not a dwarf, is he?"
"Why, no, no. He is a hobbit of a good family and unimpeachable reputation, a halfling." Bilbo felt flattered at Gandalf's introduction of him.
"A wizard and their pony. How come you here?"
"Oh, well the fact is, we've had a bad time of it, from goblins in the mountains."
"What did you go near goblins for?" Beorn eyed down the wizard with hubris. "A stupid thing to do."
"You are absolutely right-"
Back in the house, Bofur and Zipp had been watching and listening to Gandalf's conversation, Zipp mostly feeling honored that Beorn took the care of animals as a high priority, and comforted that neither her nor Sunny had any reason to feel frightened or threatened by their host. Bofur then picked up on when Gandalf waved his arms in a downward motion.
"There it is!," he whispered. "Go, go, go!"
Dwalin and Balin took the first go out, with Beorn immediately holding his ax up in a defensive ahead of Sunny, growling at the sight of what he assumed to be intruding dwarves.
"Dwalin, and Balin," Dwalin introduced.
"And I-I must confess," Gandalf stammered. "Several uh, of our group are in fact...dwarves. And ponies."
"They mean no harm to you either," Sunny looked up to Beorn.
"Do you call two several?" Beorn demanded to Gandalf. "And I do not believe that one pony counts as several either."
"You are right again," Gandalf replied, making a motion with his hand.
This time Zipp and Pipp made their presence known, and while Beorn was not at ease with the strangers he was somewhat less angered and more intrigued at the knowledge of their being here than the dwarves.
"Princess Zephyrina, call me Zipp," Zipp introduced, bowing in respect. "And this is Princess Pipp, my sister."
"What are they?" Beorn asked, less fearful.
"They are pegasi," Sunny explained. "Ponies that can fly. I'm an earth-pony."
"Earth-pony? Is that what you call yourself?"
"Well uh," Bilbo squeaked. "It's like how we call ourselves hobbits, while everyone else calls us halflings."
Beorn looked down to Bilbo, not at all pleased at his interruption, but softened slightly when seeing that this little fellow had no intentions of crossing paths with him.
"You still have not answered me," Beorn growled to Gandalf. "Do you call two dwarves several?"
Well, uh, when you put it that way," Gandalf stammered. "Uh...no...um, well there could be more than two." He made another waving motion with his hand.
Oin and Gloin came stomping out beside Dwalin. "Oin and Gloin," the greeted, bowing.
"And now here are some more of our, uh, happy troupe," Gandalf amused.
"And do you call six a troupe?" Beorn growled, this time raising his temper.
Gandalf laughed nervously. "And what are you?" Beorn added. "A traveling circus?"
Still nervously laughing, Gandalf simply shrugged, and Bofur then ushered the last of the company's ponies. Beorn was only slightly intimidated by the sword at Hitch's side, but he did ease at the sight of such a friendly purplish pony.
"Hitch," he introduced, bowing. "And this is Izzy, a unicorn."
"I can do this!" she smiled as she used her magic to paint a small face onto the nearest rock, before giving it to Beorn. He amused himself at the small present, before gently placing it on the nearest windowsill.
"And is there only five of you?" he asked to Sunny.
"Just us five ponies," she replied.
"And I suppose you still believe to call only six a troupe?"
Gandalf laughed nervously again, right before Dori and Ori cautiously appeared in front of Dwalin and Gloin. "Dori and Ori," Dori introduced, bowing. "At your service."
"I don't want your service," Beorn growled again; apparently it was his habit of doing so before dwarves.
"That's absolutely understandable," Gandalf calmed.
Bofur caught the next hand movement, right before he sent out Thorin's nephews, more confident about their approach to their host.
"Oh, Fili and Kili," Gandalf introduced. "I quite forgotten."
"Rather pleasant fellows, as dwarves go," Zipp added.
Then, quick as lightning, the last of the dwarves rushed out to Beorn's viewpoint, minus Thorin of course.
"Nori, Bifur, Bofur..." Bofur quickly tore off the napkin on Bombur's neck. "...and Bombur."
"Is that it?" Beorn asked, not exactly growling as before, as he had now vested an interest in the meaning of the dwarves coming to his home, though the rest of the company were still nervous about the threat he still posed. "Are there any more?"
It was then that Thorin appeared behind Bombur, with Beorn looking towards him with surprise in familiarity.
"This is-" Sunny began.
"I know who he is," Beorn said, though all the more calmer than before.
He gave in, the company had won his humored interest, and so within a sort span of time he and his other permanent lodgers prepared a fair enough luncheon; mostly fruits from the nearby trees the bumblebees kept pollinated. Thorin politely refused, and Balin and Gandalf both finished as Beorn came back with a refilled jug of milk.
"So, your the one they call Oakenshield," he said to Thorin. "Tell me, why was Azog the Defiler hunting?"
"Was?" Hitch asked.
"I have heard of your exploits, Master Trailblazer, from a little mouse."
A white mouse hiding in one of the nearby rafters perked up its nose.
"Then, if Azog's dead, who's after us?" Hitch asked, trying his best not to sound arrogant or angry his host.
"His name is Bolg the Violator, son of Azog." Beorn growled at both names, while the dwarves looked down in resentment or to each other in fear.
"Azog had children?"
"He ate his first during infancy, but Bolg he raised himself, after his mate died during the birth."
"Um...begging your pardon, I don't mean to talk out of point, but how do you know Azog?"
"My people were the first to live in the mountains, before the Orcs came down from the north. The Defiler killed most of my family, but some he enslaved."
It was then that he got the best look at Beorn's manacles, or thankfully what was left of them.
"Not for work, you understand, but for sport."
"S-s-sport?" Pipp stuttered.
"Caging skin-changers and torturing them seemed to amuse him."
"There are others like you?" Bilbo asked.
"Once, there were many." Beorn's voice took a saddened tone, one that Hitch recognized as being similar to that of Elrond's recollection of Turin.
"And now?"
"Now, there is only one."
The entire table stared at Beorn in stunned silence. The atmosphere had quickly changed since the day before from dread to tragic mourning, Sunny in particular the most in silence.
"Excuse me," Pipp sighed, getting up from the table. "I need a moment."
Hitch watched in worry as she got up and slowly walked out the front door, head and wings drooped low; never once had she removed Anvil.
"Will she be alright?" he said to Zipp.
"I'm not sure," she replied sharing his worry. "I can't remember the last time she was this quiet at a meal table. I think I should talk to her."
"No uh...I'll, talk to her."
Hitch stepped down from the table, thanked his host with a bow, and carefully though not as meticulous as he hoped to be. He kept a sizable distance from the bumblebees, at least from landing on his body but not from buzzing loudly into his ear, they must have been in a playful mood that morning. Pipp stood outside in the garden, watching the worker bees buzz about the warm breeze and pollinate all the beautiful flowers, looking over Anvil. She never once contemplated removing the elven shield the moment she slipped it over her front hoof.
Presently, Hitch's presence became known to her.
"I'm doing fine, I just...need a moment alone."
"Did...Beorn's backstory touch you in some way? I uh, didn't mean to intrude," Hitch shyly stammered.
"I don't mind at all," she meekly smiled. "To be honest, I...kind of need company right now."
"Why? Is something on your mind?"
"Well...it was Beorn said about Azog torturing his family."
"What about it?"
"I, uh...I don't know what to say, really."
"It's alright, take your time. Use your words."
"I'm just confused. I mean, on the one hoof I'm glad he's dead and deserved to die, but...on the other hoof-"
"I killed him," Hitch nodded consolably. "I understand where you're coming from: trying to justify the killing of another, but killing is still killing."
"Don't you mean murder?"
"Murder is when someone or pony kills another of their own. Azog was a monster, nothing more and nothing less."
Pipp looked to the stallion, taking in how staunch he was not just in appearance. It was like the sun had purposely shedded the appropriate amount of light through his no longer slick mane, though the shine of the sheriff's badge was unclean she did not seem to mind the growing rust spots.
"You know," Hitch sighed. "I don't believe I thanked you."
"Uh, what for?" Pipp asked, slightly taken aback.
"For saving me back in the Misty Mountains. Killing Azog was one thing, but I could not have protected Thorin for long on my own."
"Oh, that. Have I told you where I got the name for Anvil?"
"Where have you?"
"It was back in Goblin-town, and the...whatever he was, called your sword the Anvil. 'Stronger than stone,' he said. And after I shoved off an entire gathered group of goblins, I felt like this old thing is fitting of title of being stronger than stone."
"It is fitting, and it has taken to you...rather obediently, so to speak."
"As has your splendid sword to you."
The pony friends stared rather awkwardly to each other, unsure about what to say to each other that did not remotely sound across the line or insulting. Perhaps it was the glint in Pipp's eyes that finally motivated Hitch to speak up.
"If you don't mind me saying, you're...different."
"What do you mean?" she asked, tilting her head in amusing intrigued.
"Well, uh...if, you remember when I-we, you know...met, I thought you were...uh...um..."
"Go ahead, you can say it: spoiled, self-centered, entitled...arrogant. That was who I definitely used to be...and I so greatly wished to never return to that."
"To be honest, I, uh...like, like you anyway?"
"You, uh...mean better, right?"
"Um..."
Hitch scratched behind neck, while Pipp straightened her mane. Presently, a more smaller bumblebee buzzed passed them catching their attention, right until it buzzed passed a waiting Thorin in the doorway.
"Oh! Thorin, my liege," Hitch nervously bowed.
"Our apologies!" Pipp followed suite, and in familiar manners.
"No apologies necessary," he smiled. "Sir Hitch, Lady Pipp, make haste. We're leaving for the forest of Mirkwood." They could hear the disdain in his voice, like he harbored a grudge about what the place stood for or meant. Whatever it was, no doubt they were to soon find out.
The Hobbit: Third-Age Generation
Chapter Eight: Flies and Spiders
Chapter Eight: Flies and Spiders
Beorn had thankfully supplied the company with riding ponies for those who were not quadrupeds, and a horse for Gandalf. He also promised to watch the company as they made their way to the entrance to Mirkwood, but no further. The sunshine from before was becoming shadowed under an oncoming rain cloud, though Pipp felt like it was a coming warning for the journey that was yet to come.
By what she assumed to be the late afternoon, the company arrived at the arch-gateway to the gloomiest looking forest she had ever seen.
"The elven gate," Gandalf said.
"Do elves live in this forest too?" Zipp asked.
"Unfortunately," Thorin sighed, greatly resentful.
"Here lies our path through Mirkwood."
"No sign of the orcs," Dwalin smirked dismounting. "We have luck on our side."
Zipp stuck close to Gandalf, and in the distance they could both see the form of the giant bear watching them from a distance.
"Set the ponies loose," Gandalf declared to the company. "Let them return to their master."
"Even if we could keep them, I doubt they would follow us in anyway," Pipp remarked to Sunny.
Bilbo then approached the entryway as Gandalf inspected the forest road on his own, this time Zipp reluctant to enter. "This forest feels...sick, as if a disease lies upon it," he mused.
"It's like Bridlewood all over again," Hitch remarked.
"It does kind of remind me of home," Izzy smiled.
"Except I don't believe there will be anything welcoming in there this time."
"Is there no way around?" Bilbo asked to Gandalf.
"Not unless we go two-hundred miles north," he replied, taking in the unpleasantness the forest was surrounded with. "Or twice that distance south."
Bilbo stood beside Zipp as they looked into the forest with such a foreboding that is was standing her feathers on end. Then, all of a sudden, the voice from back in Beorn's house resurfaced through her ears, and she looked down to see Bilbo's hand twiddling with a small object out of his pocket.
"Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul,
ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzum ishi krimpatul."
And in a snap, Bilbo repocketed the object, and the shadow that was encompassing his face had parted. It was as, if not more, foreboding then the look of the forest itself, though she felt like the evil it carried matched that of the forest, and it did feel sick. There was no road block to discourage her and her friends from entering this time.
Sunny was helping Nori unsaddle Gandalf's horse, when suddenly he came running out of the forest.
"Not my horse! I need it," he cried, stopping them dead in their task.
The company was once again taken much by surprise, the Equestrian ponies the most.
"You're not leaving us?" Bilbo spoke up, with much worry shared between them.
"I would not do this unless I had too."
Thorin shared his state of mind with Bilbo, though Pipp and Izzy were more confused than their friends being worried.
"You've changed, Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf said to the hobbit. "You're not the same hobbit as the one who left the Shire."
Bilbo felt flattered by the wizard, then his face turned sour. "I was going to tell you," he stammered. "I...found something in the goblin tunnels."
"Found what?"
When he did not answer immediately, Zipp's gaze shifted to where his fingers were stuck in his pocket, shifting nervously.
"What did you find?"
After another few moments, Bilbo finally responded: "My courage." He immediately took out his fingers.
Though she felt flattered by Bilbo's response, she could see that Gandalf too could see between the lines of what he said, but chose not to dwell longer on the matter, mostly because his time was being wasted hanging around.
"Good. Well, that's good," he smiled, and he meant it. "You'll need it."
He turned and walked to his horse, and Bilbo turned back to Zipp, who averted her attention to the gathered raincloud.
"I'll be waiting for you at the overlook, before the slopes of Erebor," Gandalf said to Thorin, halting for a moment as he talked. "Keep the map and key safe. "Do not enter that mountain without me."
He mounted before turning back to the company with another downcast warning. "This is not the Greenwood of old. The very air of the forest is heavy with illusion. It will seek to enter your mind and lead you astray."
"Lead us astray?" Pipp asked to the others. "What does he mean by that?"
"You must stay on the path; do not leave it. If you do, you will never find it again."
"Is the thicket that...thick?" Hitch pondered aloud.
"Can't tell from here," Sunny replied.
"No matter what may come, stay on the path!" Gandalf called to the company, right before his horse galloped into the distance.
"Come on," Thorin called the others. "We must reach the mountain before the sun sets on Durin's Day."
"Durin's Day. Let's go!" Izzy chimed in.
"This is our one chance to find the hidden door."
"Lead on, my liege," Zipp called from the back.
The moment the company entered the forest was also the moment they lost the sunshine for the most extended time period of the journey. Bilbo's remark about the forest feeling sick felt more literal as they traversed the forest path the more throughout and passed the twisting trees. The color pallet became more dreary as they hiked all the more into the very depths of the forest, as the path turned and twisted across cliffsides and up tree roots, with Dwalin at the head, thumping the end of his ax staff on the ground.
"This way," he said, leading them down and past the Mirkwood oak trees, like they were all gasping and grasping for their last bits of breath.
The biggest nuanced change of the forest was how dense it became the deeper the path delved into.
"Air," Bofur gasped. "I need air."
"My head, it's swimming," Oin dazed. "What's happening?"
"Did you always look that way, Sunny?" Izzy said, spinning her head about her neck.
The only other populace that provided local company were the various insects that buzzed about above their heads, almost like they were taunting them.
Presently, Zipp called from ahead of the company, as she went ahead with Fili and Kili to scout ahead. "We found the bridge!"
"Bridge?" Bofur dazed.
The company had arrived to the river that ran right through the forest of Mirkwood, running calmly right under an old stone bridge, which unfortunately had collapsed right in the middle. Pipp came right up to the very edge of their bridge end, somewhat enchanted by the river, not by how pretty it looked for it had gone the path which dragged the forest itself under. It sounded dream-like, and her eyes drooped a little.
"We could try and swim it," Bofur suggested.
"Didn't you hear what Gandalf said?" Thorin responded. "A dark magic lies upon this forest. The waters of this stream are enchanted."
"It doesn't look enchanting to me," Pipp said in a dream-like state.
"We must find another way across," Thorin declared.
Pipp meanwhile was becoming all the more entranced by the waters of the river. All her life this was the first time she took an unconscious entrancement to something that did not shine with the sun, if there was even a sun to shine.
"These vines look strong enough," Kili called, stepping his boot right onto the leading branch.
"Kili!" Thorin stopped him. "We send the lightest first."
Bilbo had also been entrancing to the river, stammered at the suggestion but saw no reason to attempt a talk back. The ponies, minus Pipp who was becoming drowsy in her own thoughts, watched as Bilbo made his way across the river via the stable but shifting black vines. His feet and hand grips were a burden to watch, as the vines did not look as dry as first anticipated, though his quick reflexes seemed to pay off greatly. At one point, Hitch bit his lip as Bilbo caught himself from dumping into the river, but relaxed as he threw himself right onto the end bank.
Without second's thought, Kili and Zipp led the company on a gymnast's wet dream as they all hopped from one vine to the next. Zipp carried each one of the ponies across without much delay, though after dropping off Izzy she slumped over while trying to keep awake, to which she did after a splash was heard, followed by another: poor Bombur lost his grip after dozing off, and Pipp lost concentration dozing off while hovering right above the river, which luckily was greatly shallow.
"Are they-?"
"No, Sunny," Zipp sighed, more annoyed than concerned. "They're both fast asleep. Say, what was that noise I just heard right before they fell in?"
"Thorin's arrow missed hitting a white stag," Bilbo replied, nearly yawning.
Some time had to be taken out of the trek to not only fish out the sleeping Bombur and Pipp, but to also fashion a four-dwarf stretcher for the fat cook while Zipp carried her sleeping sister over back, seething in silence as Pipp sighed and muttered in her sleep. It was grateful to Zipp that she had no prior knowledge of her younger sister getting high or drunk, though the dense forest air was not helping her own case in any shape or form.
Hitch was not faring any better: the stillness of the forest was beginning to overcome his common senses, the trees no longer felt friendly, he even thought he was hearing voices, though unintelligible and no more than mere whispers.
"There's nothing I can see," Gloin exasperated. "Only trees and more trees."
Even though Zipp kept her wings steady and her pace cool, her vision became shifty, unbalanced waves, swimming about in her head like she was caught in a vortex.
"There's..." Thorin spun, steadily becoming all the more disoriented. "This way. Follow me."
"As I said, there is nothing like the warmth of the spotlight, and the fuzz of the carpet," Pipp sighed, still vastly asleep. "Mmm...sooooo...soft." Zipp cringed as she shifted herself among her back.
Izzy became distracted from the pressing company, twiddling her hoof against a large cobweb attached to a tree and amusing herself as the vibrations shook throughout the cobwebs above in the trees, right before she rejoined the company. Whatever Bilbo shouted from behind her became lost in her joyful twirl around Sunny, though it was not long before something disorienting finally reached the whole of the company
"Nori, why have we stopped?" Thorin called, having noticed that they had all halted in their tracks.
"The path," Nori replied, pointing ahead full of puzzlement. Right ahead was nothing but a cliff drop. "It's disappeared."
"What's going on?" Dwalin asked.
"We've lost the path!" Zipp groaned.
"Find it. All of you. Look for the path!" Thorin ordered.
The company became disoriented to split into wherever they lost where to continue, and the air was feeling purposely dense by the minute.
"I don't remember this place," Balin sighed. "None of it's familiar."
"It's got to be here!" Dori exasperated. "It can't have just...disappeared!"
"Unless someone's moved it," Dwalin said.
"It's a piece of the ground, how can someone move the ground itself?" Sunny looked around, feeling more sick and disoriented as the forest.
"It's like trying to find a needle in a haystack!" Hitch groaned loudly.
"Oh!" Izzy groaned.
"What?"
"I just remembered: I forgot all my needles back home."
"It's not over 'ere neither!" Ori cried from down below.
"What hour is it?" Thorin asked.
"I don't know," Zipp moaned. "I don't even know what day it is."
"Just place the pad right on my neck, Sergio, and wake me at precisely 2:30 p.m. sharp," Pipp dreamily mumbled.
"Is there no end to this accused place?!"
Soon, the company was trekking down what they assumed to be the correct path, however wrong the entire place had now become, especially with how pain inducing Sunny understood the forest to be; not a shred of comfort alike Bridlewood. She felt like she was walking backwards, and she thought so too, but looking behind she was witnessed to an older looking stallion who felt so familiar; so loving.
"Daddy?" she mumbled, right before she lost full consciousness.
Izzy caught Sunny right as she fell, carrying with her hoof over her neck, but not faring any better from the dwarves carrying Bombur or Zipp. Presently the company stopped right in a ring of trees, and Ori happened to find a small pouch, which Dori took to look at as well.
"Look," Ori said.
"A tobacco pouch," Dori added. "There's dwarves in these woods."
"Dwarves from the Blue Mountains, no less," Bofur said, taking a look at it with familiarity. "This is exactly the same as mine."
"Because it is yours. You understand? We're going round in circles. We are lost," Bilbo frowned.
"We're not lost. We keep heading east," Thorin insisted.
"But which way is east?" Oin grumbled. "We've lost the sun."
"Perhaps if we could make ourselves a home-made compass," Izzy suggested, only to be shot down by the shouts and near-on brawls from the dwarves.
Zipp stood beside Thorin, to which they could both hear distant whispering, and she could tell for a fact that it was different to that of the voice from before.
"Do you hear that?" she said.
"I do, but what is it?" Thorin puzzled, his face quickly turning to that of dread. "Enough! Quiet! All of you!" he called to the company. "We're being watched."
Hitch then caught the whisper, wandering in his own dizziness to behind a tree away from the company. Suddenly, a shiver became sent down his spine, feeling more like a warm garbled breath, and turning apprehensively around he froze at the sight: eight shining and dead-black eyes accompanying giant snarling tusks. He just managed to count eight spindly legs before he stumbled back, smacked his head a rock, and knew no more.
The world felt completely black for Sunny, almost infinite in some places, so much so that she almost forgot the entire day's events. In fact, she became trapped in the memory of her own experience of that first day in...Middle-Earth was it called? And, maybe there was an entire party of dwarves in the hobbit hole of...Bilbo Baggins? What kind of a dream is this? Then there was a moment where she was drinking an entire mug of ale, and then she felt like falling right before...
A great bump to her head snapped her back to the attention of reality, which was unfortunately herself being entangled in sticky cobwebs, and then a small sword cutting open the webs. Thankfully she calmed down as she saw that her rescuer was none other than good old Bilbo Baggins.
"Bilbo! You scared me half to death!" she gasped.
"I didn't mean to, you know," he quietly apologized.
"What happened?"
"We've been captured by the giant spiders of Mirkwood, and I've just managed to escape, right before I found you first hanging right above me. I've even given my sword a name: Sting, from one of the spiders."
Speaking of spiders, crawling legs were fast approaching the pair.
"There's more of them coming, and fast," Bilbo worried.
"Leave them to me," Sunny assured.
"Are you sure?"
"You're the quickest and most discreet between us, and I have the louder singing voice." She then unsheathed Dagmor. "My friend, I have hoped to never take another, but should they threaten my friends when they're defenseless flies...let's do it. Good luck, Bilbo, and Sting."
Bilbo smiled. "Good luck to you as well, Sunny, my friend."
Sunny blushed with flattery, nodded, and took off into the branches. She turned back to see Bilbo, however he had vanished in a flash. The cackles of the spiders soon filled her ears, and mustering whatever courage she could find left, she began to sing:
"Sunny: Old fat spider spinning in a tree! Old fat spider can't see me! Attercop! Attercop! Won't you stop. Stop your spinning and look for me?"
She definitely caught their distracted attention, one of which came to close to Dagmor, and this time not hesitating she impaled it right through the biggest eyes.
"GAH! IT STINGS! STINGS!" the spider cried, right before it fell from the branches.
"So that's where Bilbo got the name," Sunny noted. Keeping Dagmor stiff, she began the second verse:
"Sunny: Old Tomnoddy, all big and body, Old Tomnoddy can't spy me! Attercop! Attercop! Down you drop! You'll never catch me up your tree!"
"Curses and splashes!" a spider growled. "Where is it?! Where is it?!"
"Right here, I am!" Sunny cried, right before slashing right into its abdomen, before turning around and slitting another's throat. Though her singing was adept to its purpose, she had to make up the lyrics right off the bat, and she figured that Pipp would squirm at the words she devised for the song, if she could call it that.
"Sunny: Lazy Lob and crazy Cob are weaving webs to wind me, I am far more sweet than other meat, but still they cannot find me!"
"Where is the cheeky little meat?!" a spider growled.
"Sunny: Here I am, naughty little fly; you are fat and lazy, You cannot stop me, though you try, in your cobwebs crazy."
Now, when she felt like her task more than fulfilled its purpose, she made her way across and down the trees reuniting with the remainder of the company as they all fought greatly against the remainder of the spiders.
"Sunny!" Hitch cried. Practically all of the company were all covered in cobwebs, being all over his mane. "Where've you been?!"
"After Bilbo freed me, I led them away as he did his own work!" she explained.
"And where is Master Baggins?!" Thorin called from across the way.
"You mean he's not here, again?!"
"Look out!" Hitch cried.
Sunny looked and swung just in time to cleave an oncoming spider right in the face. Hitch soon made short work of two more spiders, with help from Dwalin, Gloin, and Bofur. Pipp, however, was still wide asleep as Zipp twanged Dailir wherever she could, while Izzy blinded the spiders using the brightest source of light-magic she could muster.
"Let's get out of here!" she called to Thorin.
"Agreed!" he called back. "Come on!"
The company rushed in his footsteps through the leaf infested undergrowth, more observant and careful about which way and wherever the spiders might reemerge. One did, dropping right in front of them, followed by a few others, but also a dark-green clothed and long blonde haired elf made himself known by dropping under the first spider, slicing its underbelly before aiming his arrow right for Thorin's face. Soon enough, the entire company was once again surrounded, but this time by the Wood-Elves of Mirkwood.
"Do not think I won't kill you dwarf. It would be my pleasure," the first elf, no doubt their captain, hissed to Thorin.
The company had no choice but to stand down, much to Thorin's resentment. "Search them!" their captain called.
The wood-elves then began searching through their belongings, with plenty of "Do you mind?" from Dwalin, "Don't touch me there!" from Nori, and "Hey, that's a present! Give it back!" from Izzy.
"Hey! Give it back! That's private!" Gloin roared at the elf captain, having taken out a locket from around his neck, containing only two small pictures of dwarves.
"Who is this? Your brother?" he taunted.
"That is my wife!"
"And who is this horrid creature? A goblin mutant?"
"That is my wee lad, Gimli!"
Another elf had been attempting unsuccessfully to remove Anvil from the sleeping Pipp, much to the amusement of Zipp, who just had her own weapons removed.
"If it won't come off, stop trying," she remarked, causing the elf in question to stand back in surprise. "Yes, us ponies can talk."
Fili was faring no better, an elf had been removing so many hidden daggers and knives from his coat. The captain, meanwhile, had been given Orchrist and Anguirel for inspection.
"Where did you get these?" he said to Thorin.
"They were given to us," Thorin replied, rather dryly. "Myself and the stallion."
Hitch nodded without hesitation, while the captain then pointed the blade's end right to his neck. "Not just a thief, but a liar as well. Enwenno hain! "
Now that the company had been removed of their weapons, the wood-elves began marching them through the forest, no doubt to where they were all sheltered, or where their kingdom was hidden, with Thorin being the most perturbed at the situation.
Sunny, on the other hoof, had noticed something. "Thorin," she hissed. "Where's Bilbo?"
Thorin spun around to confirm her suspicions, and she was right.
Bilbo Baggins was once again not among the company.
The Hobbit: Third-Age Generation
Chapter Nine: Barrels out of Bond
Chapter Nine: Barrels out of Bond
The wood-elves made short work of relieving the company of their prized weapons, some more than others, however not one among them could part Anvil with its sleeping-walking mistress, as they refused to allow either of the company to carry either Bombur or Pipp. While Bombur was very much awake as the company was being led, Hitch struggled to keep up along with motioning for Pipp's hooves could find the ground, to his pleasure rather than chagrin.
"Keep up, we don't want to fall behind," he whispered.
"Yes, just give me two and I'll call you back in the morning," she dreamily sighed.
The wood-elves led the company in single file right through the great gates, and into a great cavern: the entire Woodland Realm was built into the mountainside cavern, hewn with architecture lined with either straight-up trees and bark, or mimicking the architecture of a tree. There was elegance to be found, as all elves provide and present, but it was not Rivendell, that is to say it did not feel homely.
"Holo in ennyn ," the captain called, right before the great doors slammed shut.
Only now did the ponies understand and confirm why their suspicions about the Woodland Realm was vastly different to Rivendell: it was not homely, but closed off; trapped. Their captors led them all over twisting bridges, stable but nowhere near safe or feasible. And just for good measure, now the dwarves were only clothed in their simple shirts, trousers, boots, and gloves for those who had them.
Eventually, one by one, the company was forcibly shoved into a jail cell.
"This is not end of it, you hear?!" Dwalin growled.
"Let us out of here!" Gloin cried.
"Get off of...!" Dori snapped.
They were all positioned to where they could at least talk to each other, but mostly it was each dwarf per cell. That is not to say that there were some pairings: Oin and Gloin, Dori and Ori, Sunny and Izzy, and Hitch and Pipp; the latter of which simply walked in still sleeping on her hooves. Fili on the other hand had yet another and the final hidden dagger removed.
Immediately as the guards vacated the premises, the dwarves began grunting and furiously kicking at their cell doors.
"Leave it! There's no way out!" Balin cried, calming the futile escape attempts. "This is no orc dungeon; these are the halls of the Woodland Realm. No one leaves here but by the king's consent."
"Say what you want about the wood-elves, at least they provide adequate service," Zipp remarked rather dryly.
The dwarves were not exactly put at ease, neither Zipp, Sunny, nor Hitch, especially at the loss of their most beloved weapons. Presently, they noticed that Thorin was not present among the jailed this time, and right as they did they heard his voice from right above in the throne space.
"You lack all honor!" he screamed. "I've seen how you treat your friends. We came to you once, starving, homeless, seeking your help, but you turned your back. You turned away from the suffering of my people and the inferno that destroyed us! Imrid amrad ursul! "
Whatever Thorin said must have provoked the king enough. "Stay here if you will, and rot," he declared. "A hundred years is a mere blink in the life of an elf. I am patient. I can wait."
Soon enough, Thorin was placed in the last cell, and the jailer walked off too wherever was the furthest down into the depths of the kingdom.
"Did he offer you a deal?" Balin asked.
"He did," Thorin smirked. "I told him he could go 'Ish kakhfê ai'd dur rugnu! ' Him and all his kin!"
Balin sighed in great frustration. "Well...that's it, then. A deal was our last hope."
"Don't say that yet," Sunny assured. "Don't forget, we're down a burglar."
Thorin did feel reassured by her words, remembering how Bilbo had somehow managed to escape both the goblin tunnels and the spiders, so what was to stop him from working his hobbit-miracles once more? Perhaps he had been too harsh on Bilbo in the past; after all, he at once refused to part with the company even after he had practically influenced him to do so. Just where was the little burglar now?
"Well," Hitch sighed. "This is a fine predicament, if I do say so myself."
"Mmm...sooo soft...and waaaarm," Pipp sighed, still in her state and caressing her head against Hitch's neck. Not only did it feel uncomfortable, but he also felt something pounding in his stomach.
"Eh...you, uh...okay?" he stuttered.
"Oh, yes, he's okay. Airheaded, stubborn, egotistical...just like me, and also kind, strong, strong-willed, and loyal to his friends."
By now the atmosphere was becoming more than mushy, embarrassingly so enough that Hitch was worried about the others watching and listening in, and worse even some eavesdropping wood-elf.
"I, uh...think the light's making you dizzy," he stammered.
"Oh...I am nothing but, and he does not mind it either. Of course, it's not really the shine of the light that matters, really."
When he thought that the others could not seem them from back in their corner, Hitch began nervously holding her close, gently caressing her mane and blushing as she wrapped her wing around him.
"He's also so handsome as well...and brave."
"Is he rich?" Hitch asked, rather nervously.
"Not...by any means. He's a small town pony, modestly paid, and...humble, or been humbled."
"Who...humbled him?"
"One fateful night, when the big lie was exposed...but there he was in the crowd. Not belonging by any means, but..." she sighed dreamily. "Perhaps there was something about him that caught me differently...even if...he had no wings."
It did not feel right, with her being in her state, and yet he had not noticed how sweet she was, nor how much she actually cared for him. One of his greatest fears, one of many a self-doubting stallion, no different to himself: would she relay my affections? Would she love me back? Am I good enough for her?
But the moment they shared lips of passion, all worries melted out his heart, and she then went soft, like she was accepting his offer of affections. Now both wings were softly wrapped around him, and both pairs of forehooves embraced the other affectionately. No misery of any kind was shared, just simply the love across the plain of indifference.
When he did let go, she stood bedazzling for a moment, still but soft in his hooves. Then, she opened her eyes, and he smiled.
"Wh-wha-what happened? Hitch?" she asked softly
"You fell asleep back in the forest," he replied, echoing her softness as he awkwardly stood. "Right now we are in the capture of the wood-elves."
"All of us?"
"Say for Bilbo, again."
"Hitch?"
"Yes?"
It was in this moment that Pipp Petals, princess of Zephyr Heights and Lady under the Mountain, removed her faithful Anvil and placed it gently in the nearest corner. It understood its mistress' motive, and obediently obliged.
"Please...hold me."
"Uh..."
"If...you don't mind it, that is."
"You're...unsure?"
"Aren't you?"
"Fair enough."
They approached each other again, this time both of right mind when they embraced. It was as if the gated walls of the Woodland Realm melted down to cooled magma, and they became lost in a dream, happy and free for and with each other.
"This place is not as beautiful as I hoped," Izzy bluntly stated.
"Anything you did?" Sunny smirked.
"Wonderous music and fare elves, but I've heard or seen not an ounce."
"As my dad once said to me, 'If your have a heart, you have a hope.' Or was it the other way around?"
"Well, I have a heart to escape, and see the Mountain."
"I do as well, and I hope to. Perhaps we will, if in an effort to see Maretime Bay once again."
Outside in the late evening, the orc pack from just two days before had reached the gates of the Woodland Realm, after a rest up and passage granted from the spiders.
"The gates are guarded," one of the orcs said, in the black speech.
"Shugi golgai. Tud-dad nu!" their leader replied, right before hiking off with the rest of the pack following close behind him. While he also spoke only the black speech, his words roughly translate in the common tongue to: "Not all of them. Follow me!"
The company all still sat idly in their cells, hopes fading and dimming while the magical light fixtures had not even contemplated the thought.
"I'll wager the sun is on the rise," Bofur groaned. "Must be nearly dawn."
"Here I was hoping for a calm and satisfying rainstorm," Zipp frowned.
"We're never going to reach the mountain, are we?" Ori wavered.
True, the company had only been imprisoned for an entire afternoon to evening to waxing dawn, but the bonds of metal barred incarceration are something that should not be taken so lightly, for even a single evening is enough to break a spirit, three if it is unlucky enough.
"Not stuck in here, you're not!" came the whisper of a most familiar voice.
The company looked up to see, in gasping excitement, the one and only Bilbo Baggins jangling the jail keys in his hand. Zipp looked down to see him slip something back into his pocket, but she was so grateful to see him alive and well that she dared not dwell on the matter at hoof.
"Bilbo!" Balin cried in admiration.
"Bilbo, you're back!" Hitch smiled.
"Shh!" he hissed. "There are guards nearby!"
One by one Bilbo made his way up and across the dungeons unlocking each door until every last of the company was out in the open and more than ready to vacate up from the depths.
"The stairs," Dwalin whispered. "Ori, you first."
"I'll be right behind you," Pipp whispered back.
"Not that way. Down here, follow me," Bilbo beckoned.
Trusting his judgement, and following behind Bombur, the company as silent as they could make themselves huffed and trotted down further into the depths of the Woodland Realm behind the smallest and most stealthily Bilbo. When the arrived to where he beckoned as their final destination, it is an understatement to say that they were more than confused and peeved.
"I don't believe it; we're in the cellars!" Kili hissed angrily.
"You're supposed to be leading us out, not further in!" Bofur added.
"I like wine as much as the next pony," Pipp put in. "But now you're just pulling our hooves, and legs!"
"I know what I'm doing!" Bilbo raised his voice.
"Shh!" she shushed.
"This way."
He led them past where the jailer and the head butler were sleeping soundly on the table, surrounded by empty bottles of wine, to where an evenly stack of empty open barrels were piled right in the middle of the room.
"Everyone, climb into the barrels, quickly!"
"What do you hope to accomplish for us with this?" Zipp mused. "A headache and a half?"
"Are you mad?!" Dwalin huffed angrily. "They'll find us!"
"No, no, they won't, I promise you. Please, please, you must trust me!"
The company, besides Thorin who stood next to Bilbo, gathered together for another whispered discussion, while Bilbo stood impatiently worried in his hobbit-feet.
"Do as he says," Thorin declared, breaking up the brain-trust.
"If both Thorin and Bilbo say so," Izzy thought aloud. "Then it must be foolproof!"
"Perhaps not Izzy-proof," Hitch mumbled under his breath.
Per Bilbo's plan, the dwarves each all hobbled into one barrel each, while Zipp and Pipp, and Sunny and Izzy each shared a barrel. However, with the sounds of footsteps rushing anxiously upstairs, Bilbo had no time to fasten the lids, and checking over each barrel as much as he could he stood by a lever fastened into the floor just up from the stack's forward end.
"Now what do we do, Bilbo?" Sunny asked.
"Hold your breath," he replied.
"Hold me breath? What do you mean?" Bofur asked, right before Bilbo pilled the lever and the floor tipped up to reveal a trapdoor, causing the stack of barrels to roll one by one down through the trapdoor before splashing into the river cutting through the underground caves, right beneath the Woodland Realm.
As each barrel resurfaced, they moved out the way for the next to come splashing down.
"FBBSHT!" Izzy spat. "What a clever plan, Bilbo!"
"PAH!" Zipp spluttered. "I think I swallowed some of the water, and it tastes salty."
"Speaking of which, where'd he go this time?" Hitch resurfaced.
"I think he forgot himself this time around," Pipp gasped.
Almost on cue, the trapdoor opened right above them and Bilbo came flopping backside first right into the river waters. Thorin had insisted on waiting up for their burglar.
"Well done, Master Baggins!" he smiled, and this time it was of genuine admiration.
Bilbo could only splutter out the word, "go" before the company swam through the tightened ravine. Each barrel used their hands or hooves as makeshift paddles, following Thorin's stead, until they reached the opening to the sunlight, right to a waterfall.
"Hold on!" Thorin cried.
"What for? Oh!" Izzy yelped.
The barrels were rushed right down the falls, catching the momentum of the rapids as they tossed the barrels about in the rushing waters, sending them all where they could only do so: downstream.
"Hold on, Bilbo!" Hitch yelled as Bilbo fought to clung to the barrel through the rapids.
Presently, a horn rang out from right behind them, and the elves guarding the sluice heard the call immediately heaving a great lever that closed the heavy metal gates of the sluice, trapping the barrels right under the mechanized bridge.
"Oh, bother," Hitch remarked under his breath.
With many grunts and groans the barrels all piled into each other blocking whatever little slivers of the current were left passing through the cracks of the barrels.
"OOPHF!" Sunny grunted. "Now what?"
"I think I saw one of the elves activate this gate with a lever up top," Zipp said. "I'll take care of it."
"Wait!" Pipp stopped her. "Be careful."
"I always am."
"Watch out!" Bofur cried. "There's orcs!"
The pack had camped in the woods right at the sluice, under the pretense that that was the escape way the dwarves would take, and their hunch, or their leader's hunch, paid off with great profit. Many an ambushed elf was slain, and orc as well, and every one of them fell with a splash into the waters drenching and soaking the company. Some brave orcs decided to go right for the company: Dwalin elbowed one into the river, Bilbo stabbed another with Sting, and Pipp did what she could while staying cool with herself, blocking a particularly nasty swing from an orc club which instead sent the orc in question splashing right between Fili and Gloin.
With that, Zipp hopped gracefully from her barrel, only to duck out the way from orc archers. The elves were certainly caught off guard from the ambush, even with her ducking and weaving her way through the chaos.
"Zipp!" Dwalin called, before throwing a dead orc's blade right to her.
She caught it gracefully, cutting down the nearest orc as she fought up the steps. Fili then threw his actual last hidden dagger at an orc ready to spear Zipp clean through, giving her ample time to reach the lever. However, the pack leader had been intently watching Zipp's movements, less admired and more calculating. He kept his arrow brandished, and seeing that she was close to pulling the lever he fired it right at her, striking her dead-center in the calf of her rear-right leg. She stopped right below the mechanism, frozen in shock.
"Zipp!" Pipp cried in shock.
Zipp did not falter just yet, and using her strength she pulled on the lever right before dropping in wincing pain. The sluice opened right up and a few barrels had already rushed out, but Pipp held out until her sister dropped right in beside her, snapping the shaft of the arrow right off.
"Zipp, are you alright?!" she gasped.
"Yeah...yeah, I'm fine," Zipp sighed, clearly underplaying. "Dwalin, catch!"
She threw the taken sword right back to Dwalin, who caught it right as his barrel was the last to be taken by the rushing rapids. By now they had all lost control of their destination, meaning the current of the river was its own guide, much to the disorientation of the company.
"Hold on...Bilbo!" Hitch cried as their barrel was briefly sunk and resurfaced in the rapids.
"Bombur, look out!" Sunny cried before crashing right into Bombur's barrel.
"How many waterfalls does this river need?!" he gasped for air, after dumping down the fourth.
While the others were not faring much better, even if Izzy was the only one enjoying the barrel-ride, their complications worsened as the orc pack rushed to close them off on all sides of the river. Most of them were experienced archers, even if they could only scrape and chip at the wood of the barrels, however now the elves were slaying them as they chased after the escaping company. Thorin slew one that jumped right at him with the sword Dwalin tossed to Izzy, who then tossed it to him.
Another orc leapt to Balin, but Thorin threw the sword right to its chest, pinning it to a thick tree branch as he caught its weapon of choice; being a spiked stick. He then tossed it to Dwalin, who then threw it to Nori, who then threw it to Izzy.
"Fili!" she called, right before tossing it to him, who then swung at the legs of an unlucky orc, sending it splashing into the rapids.
Another orc leapt to grab at the barrel of Zipp and Pipp, who butted the orc into the river with Anvil as she took its weapon; being an ax.
"Dwalin, catch!" she screamed at the might of the river, before tossing it to Dwalin as his barrel passed by.
Up ahead was a low-hanging tree spanning the length of the river, with many orc archers holding their positions.
"Cut the log!" Thorin cried.
He then used his weapon to swing a chop at the tree, before Bofur came up with another chop, followed by Dwalin's finishing blow as the tree split sending the orcs to drown in the rapids below. By now, Bilbo and Hitch ditched floating inside their barrel and were clinging helplessly onto its side. Just ahead however, a spear-wielding orc had its eyes fixated on Bombur.
"Bombur!" Dwalin cried as he tossed his own ax.
Bombur caught it right as the orc stuck its sharpened-end into his barrel, right before he axed it square in the chest, but an ill timed waterfall caught the orc and the shaft-end on another low-hanging tree. It catapulted his barrel onto a downward hill which rolled and battered the barrel, knocking a few orcs as he leapt across and back over the river, until he came to a full stop. The orcs closed in on him, but he then kicked out the bottom and began slicing through the orcs with the ax and spiked stick through sizable holes on either barrel-side. Eventually though he had to ditch the battered barrel.
"Bilbo!" Hitch cried. "We'll have to jump barrels!"
Bilbo leapt to clung to Dori's barrel while Hitch gripped tightly to the pegasi's barrel, smiling awkwardly up at Pipp, while Bombur jumped into the empty tossing his weapons to Dwalin and Nori respectively, who helped him resurface.
Along the elevated riverbanks, the elves were making short work of the gathered orc pack, while the company still barreled violently downstream. The elven captain from before then leapt lightly onto the heads of Dwalin and Dori, firing his arrows precisely to whatever orc caught his gaze. Zipp could only watch in amazed admiration as he hopped to one side of the river's embankments, not once losing his momentum as he then leapt across over the heads of grunting dwarves to the other embankment.
One moment he was busy making short work of some orcs, the next Zipp stared with worrying anticipation as another orc snuck behind him raising his sword to smite the elf, until he dropped dead after Thorin threw his weapon of a machete right into its chest. The elf captain locked eyes with Thorin, simply watching as the rapids carried the company off into the distance.
It took some time before the rushing current lost the company, but by the time they were, the current subsided and regained control of their barrels.
"Anything behind us?" Thorin called from the front
"Not that I can see," Balin responded.
"I think we've outrun the orcs," Sunny said.
"Not for long; we've lost the current," Thorin replied.
"Don't let go, Hitch," Pipp concerned. "Can you swim?"
"Not since I was a colt," he replied, spitting out excess water.
"Make for the shore! Come on, let's go!" Thorin called.
The company paddled their way to the shore, being a giant slab of rock jutting out like it was planted in the river. Bilbo and Hitch were the most soaked, having spent the majority clinging for dear life to the side and not inside a barrel.
"Come on," Dwalin grunted while hoisting Ori from his barrel.
Zipp limped out from her barrel and only made about five paces before dropping to her knees crying in pain, clutching her arrow wound as Bofur, Fili, Kili, and Pipp looked on worryingly.
"You okay?" Pipp asked.
"I told you, I'm fine," Zipp seethed.
"On your feet," Thorin ordered to the group.
"Zipp's wounded," Fili called back to his uncle. "Her leg needs binding."
"There's an orc pack on our tail; we keep moving."
"To where?" Balin butted in.
"To the mountain; we're so close," Bilbo responded.
"What makes you so sure?" Hitch interjected.
"I saw it from above the forest canopy."
"So that's where you went. Well, thanks for scouting ahead."
"A lake lies between us and that mountain," Balin interrupted. "We have no way to cross it."
"So then we go around," Hitch suggested.
"The orcs will run us down, as sure as daylight," Dwalin said gruffly. "We have no weapons to defend ourselves."
Thorin, the most anxious of them all, turned back to where the gathered group of Zipp sat patiently, with her clenching her teeth to fight the sting. "Bind her leg, quickly," he said at last. "You have two minutes."
"I suppose I'll be carrying you this time," Pipp joked.
"Oh, be off with you," Zipp chuckled, wincing as Kili finished his makeshift bind.
Ori meanwhile was emptying his boots of water, while unbeknownst to the others at the moment, a stranger approached from behind aiming his brandished arrow right for his head. Soon, the company caught wind of this stranger, just as Dwalin jumped before the stranger brandishing a large branch meaning to charge until the stranger shot and embedded the arrow smack in the its middle. Izzy then picked up a nearby stone with her magic, right before the stranger shot another arrow sending away the stone along with the arrow.
"Do it again," he threatened. "And you're dead.
The company stood in silence at the mercy of him: black-bearded, long-haired, equal height of an elf, but grim-faced instead of fare.
"Now, take it easy," Sunny stammered. "You have no reason to harm any of us. Are you an elf?"
The stranger turned to Sunny, not dropping his arrow, but instead picking up at the sight of a pony who could communicate in the common speech.
"I'm a man," he grunted. "I have no elf-blood in my veins."
Balin, who had been eying the tied-off barge behind the man, cautiously approached from behind Sunny.
"Let me handle this, lass," he whispered.
The man then focused his arrow towards Balin, who spoke. "Excuse me, but, uh, you're from Laketown, if I'm not mistaken?" he stammered. "That barge over there, it wouldn't be available for hire, by any chance?"
The man lowered his arrow, assured that the dwarves, ponies, and Bilbo meant no harm to his life, however he took great suspicion at Balin's proposal.
The Hobbit: Third-Age Generation
Chapter Ten: A Warm Welcome
Chapter Ten: A Warm Welcome
The company followed the man back to his barge, loading up the empty barrels that brought the company, still skeptical about Balin's offer, mostly because of the folks who were offering it: dwarves, unearthly-looking ponies, and a little fellow, child-size but not a dwarf. That and he had his own problems on his own deck.
"What makes you think I will help you?" he asked. He was strong-willed but no fool.
"Those boots have seen better days," Balin responded. "And so has that coat."
"Your bow could also use some much needed maintenance," Izzy added.
"I just polished it five months ago," the bargeman said. "It's the only one I've got."
"No doubt you have some hungry mouths to feed," Balin picked up. "How many bairns?"
"A boy and two girls."
"And your wife, I'd imagine she's a beauty."
The man halted in his work, looking at his boots in remorse. "Aye," he sighed. "She was."
Immediately the mood shifted downward with Balin's smile.
"Awkward," Pipp whispered to Hitch.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" Balin stammered.
"Oh, come on, come on, enough with the niceties," Dwalin impatiently interrupted.
"What's your hurry?" the man asked.
"What's it to you?"
"I would like to know who you are and what you are doing in these lands."
"We are simple merchants from the Blue Mountains journeying to see our kin in the Iron Hills," Balin coerced. Technically he was not actually lying, at least not outright.
"Simple merchants, you say? You must have been traveling light with so few ponies."
"They are actually our companions."
"My aunt Elisa was raised in the Iron Hills and I haven't seen her since I was a filly," Izzy added.
"We'll need food, supplies, weapons," Thorin said at last. "Can you help us?"
The man said nothing during a while, instead deeply analyzing the scraps the barrels had received during the log ride down the river. Hitch bit his lip in anticipation, while Sunny looked to Bilbo, sharing his worries.
"I know where these barrels came from," the man said.
"What of it?" Thorin said, trying to elude him from their adventure so far, to no avail.
"I don't know what business you had with the elves, but I don't think it ended well. No one enters Laketown but by leave of the Master. All his wealth comes from trade with the Woodland Realm. He will see you in irons before risking the wrath of King Thranduil."
So Thranduil is the Elvenking of Mirkwood, Sunny pondered to herself. No wonder Thorin refused the deal, or more snapped at him.
"Then you can tell him that...cough…Thranduil imprisoned us on false charges," Zipp said from the back.
"Such as?" the man humored.
"We were simply lost and starving in the woods, and he believed we were trespassing."
The man simply shrugged as he loaded the final barrel into his barge, before tossing the tie-off rope to Balin, who looked to Thorin who mouthed, "Offer him more."
"I'll wager there are ways to enter that town unseen," Balin said immediately.
"Aye," the man replied, not exactly listening. "But for that, you will need a smuggler."
"For which we will pay double."
The man looked to Balin with suspicion, unsure of the company's true intentions but could see that they at least meant to cross the lake and enter the town. Also, unbeknownst to the company, he was in some hot water with the Master of Laketown, and he had his three children to care for, so as the saying goes, "any port in a storm for me." He accepted Balin's offer.
The company were seated as the passengers of the bargeman as he sailed his boat across the fogging lake. There were plenty of ice floating freely about the lake, appearing and disappearing out and through the chilling misty air. The ponies had the more unpleasantness of the journey, being that only the dwarves and Bilbo wore any amount of clothing, and Izzy seemed to be the only one suffering from seasickness.
"I'm just not used to boat travel," she groaned.
"Watch out!" Bofur yelped as a stone structure appeared out of the fog right before them, however the bargeman turned his rudder carefully and meticulously around all the structures jutting out the waters.
"Woah," Sunny gasped. "What happened here?"
"It's a mystery," the bargeman replied. "No one knows for sure."
"What are you trying to do, drown us?" Thorin said.
"I was born and bred on these waters Master Dwarf. If I wanted to drown you, I would not do it here."
"Oh I have had enough of this lippy lakeman," Dwalin growled. "I say we thrwo him over the side and be done with him."
"Ohh, Bard, his name's Bard," Bilbo groaned.
"How do you know?" Bofur asked.
"Uh, I asked him."
Hearing this, Izzy hobbled over to Bard, still maintaining whatever balance she had left.
"Hello, Bard," she smiled. "I'm Izzy Moonbow." She stuck out her hoof to him, though he was still confused about the ponies accompanying the dwarves and Bilbo.
"Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Moonbow," he replied, shaking hand to hoof.
"I don't care what he calls himself," Dwalin said to Thorin, eying them. "I don't like him."
"We do not have to like him, we simply have to pay him," Balin rebuffed to his brother. The dwarves had emptied out whatever coins were left in their pockets, as the ponies were dry on the cash of this world, and Balin was counting through to find the amount Bard had requested.
"How do we know he won't betray us?" Dwalin whispered to Thorin.
"We don't," he replied.
"Try not to be hasty," Sunny mumbled.
"What for?" Dwalin asked.
"On judging Bard. He's helped us this far, right?"
Dwalin turned away from Sunny's face, still skeptical about Bard's true intentions.
"There's, um, just a problem: we're ten coins short," Balin worried.
Thorin turned to Gloin, who was sat with his arms crossed. "Gloin. Come on. Give us what you have."
"Don't look to me," he snapped. "I have been bled dry by this venture! And what have I seen for my investment? Naught but misery and grief and-"
"Bless me! Look at that!" Pipp gasped.
"Oh, lord!" Hitch stared wide-eyed.
Gloin stopped talking when he realized the others had all stood and were looking at something in the far distance. It was not as far as it was before, and its magnificence was increased tenfold, especially after it appeared out of the fog like an ocean liner.
"Bless me beard!" Gloin exclaimed. "Take it. Take all of it."
The small pouch of coins he kept hidden throughout the entire journey provided just the right amount of coins Bard requested. Bilbo then cough and gestured to Bard as he approached the company.
"The money, quick, give it to me."
"We'll pay you when we get our provisions, but not before," Thorin stated.
"If you value your freedom, you'll do as I say. There are guards ahead."
The company had no choice but to follow Bard's word, by climbing back into their barrels, two at once for the ponies, same pairs as before, however Bilbo had to share with Hitch in an empty one that followed them without knowledge down the river.
Bilbo watched through a hole in his barrel as Bard stopped his barge on a checkpoint dock just outside Laketown.
"Just when I hoped to never see the inside of a barrel again," Pipp complained.
"Shh!" Dwalin hissed. "What's he doing?"
Bilbo watched as Bard chatted with what he assumed to be the guard. "He's talking to someone," he whispered.
Then, to his shock and confusion, Bard pointed in the direction of their barge. "And he's... pointing right at us!"
"It better not mean what I think it means," Hitch hissed.
"Now they're shaking hands."
"What?" Thorin gasped in anger.
"The villain! He's selling us out!" Dwalin hissed angrily.
Footsteps then approached the barge, while the company braced for the worst. Each lid was lifted off the barrels, and was proceeded to be filled to the brim with freshly caught fish.
"Forget the claustrophobia, this is worse," Pipp moaned, before Bard roughly kicked it, rightly she silenced herself.
"Quiet! We're approaching the toll gate."
The company could only sit in awkward silence, filling their nostrils with the scent of nothing but fish, as they felt the barge slow to a halt beside what they assumed to be the tollbooth. Only the pegasi could hear what was happening from beyond the deafening layers of fish.
"Halt!" a voice called. "Goods inspection. Papers, please. Oh, it's you, Bard."
"Morning, Percy," Bard greeted.
"Anything to declare?"
"Nothing, but that I am cold and tired, and ready for home."
"You and me both."
It was evident to the sisters that Bard and Percy, he called to the gatekeeper, were old friends.
"Here we are, all in order."
"Not so fast," a new voice called. Instead of friendly he sounded slimy, and like an adversary to Bard. "Consignment of empty barrels from the Woodland Realm. Only, they're not empty, are they, Bard?"
Some heavy steps were accompanied behind this new voice, assumingly this slimy voice carried some power within this town.
"If I recall correctly," the voice continued. "You're licensed as a bargeman, not a fisherman."
"That's none of your business," Bard declared.
"Wrong. It's the Master's business, which makes it my business."
"Oh come on, Alfrid, have a heart. People need to eat!"
"These fish are illegal."
The voice, Alfrid Bard called him, must have been holding a fish because a splash was heard just off the side of the barge.
"Empty the barrels over the side," Alfrid ordered.
"You heard him," a soldierly sounding voice said. "Into the canal. Come on, get a move on."
To their horror, the sound of tipping wood and dumping fish was heard, more so was the fact they could not distinguish whose barrels were being dumped.
"Folk in this town are struggling," Bard spoke up. "Times are hard. Food is scarce."
"That's not my problem," Alfrid said.
"And when the people hear the Master is dumping fish back in the lake, when the rioting starts, will it be your problem then?"
The dumping sounded to increase, and with the silence between the men outside the barrels they must have reached an impasse.
"Stop," Alfrid furiously hissed. The soldiers obeyed his command, for they reset the barrels back onto the barge, the sisters hoping upon hope that none of their own were exposed.
"Ever the people's champion, eh, Bard? Protector of the common folk? You might have their favor now, bargeman, but it won't last."
Alfrid definitely had some grievances with Bard, mostly stemming from how his rebellious actions did not see eye to eye with the authorities of Laketown.
"Raise the gate!" Percy shouted.
"The Master has his eye on you; you'd do well to remember," Alfrid called to Bard. "We know where you live."
"It's a small town, Alfrid," Bard said, undaunted. "Everyone knows where everyone lives."
The noise of the voices died down as Bard steered his barge through the canals of Laketown: remnants of the city of Dale, the buildings were nothing but planks of wood put together standing atop the lake surface on nothing but stiff-enough stilts. A far cry from the great market sprawling haven it used to be such an age ago.
Eventually, the calm saying motion of the lakes waters ceased as Bard finally came to a stop. He then proceeded to dump the barrels, until Dwalin rebuffed him, allowing the dwarves to clamber out. Bilbo got out before Hitch, who had to spit out a fish before swallowing. Sunny had to remove a fish that got stuck on Izzy's horn.
"Ugh!" Pipp groaned. "Just when I thought my mane couldn't get more greasy."
"Never mind about the fish already," Zipp huffed, right before stumbling out a little violently.
"Are you sure you're alright?"
"Of course...cough…I am."
Once the others were pulled free, Bard slipped a coin to a nearby fisherman.
"You didn't see them, they were never hear," he said. "The fish you can have for free."
"Free fish," Hitch mumbled. "The perfect bribe."
"Follow me."
Bard then led the company through the backstreets of Laketown, to where Sunny assumed to be his own house. It was difficult to concentrate with all the potential eavesdroppers and spies watching from wherever, not to mention the smell of cold fish and tar was sickening to the nose. Of course it did not stop some handful of townsfolk from simply gazing up and catching a glimpse of the strange dwarves and ponies.
Unfortunately, a voice rang out in the market. "'ALT! OI!"
Bard looked to one of the guards pointing right at him, and in full view of the company.
"Come on," Thorin hissed. "Move."
"IN THE NAME OF THE MASTER OF LAKETOWN I SAY 'ALT!"
The company ran through some stands right before they realized the guards had cornered them. The guards rushed right forward to the company, right before they became out of their league: some got clobbered by Dwalin and Nori, Fili and Zipp tripped up some with a stretched rope, some tripped over the fallen Bombur, and some got a swing from Balin's newfound wooden club. Pipp in the meanwhile had kept Sunny and the others right behind her and Anvil as they hid behind some lobster cages, which seemed to dilute the guards from their positions.
The other townsfolk in the area had stopped in their tracks at the ruckus, but had to continue once the captain of the guards appeared. "What's goin' on 'ere?" he said.
Balin kept a good grip on the oar he found as Thorin readied his stiff stick. "Stay where you are. Nobody leaves," they heard the captain say again.
"He kind of sounds like you, Hitch," Sunny silently remarked.
"Oh, shut up," he hissed as she and Izzy giggled.
As he round a corer, closing in on their position, Bard appeared. "Hello, Braga," he said, both distracting and genuine. "Sorry."
"You," Braga hissed. "What're you up to, Bard?"
"Me? Nothing. I'm looking for nothing."
Hitch saw one of the downed guards stirring on the ground, and right above was a woman marketer who quickly covered him up behind some plants, unfortunately as she dropped a glass vase with a plant onto his head. Braga must have heard the crash, because he came right around to inspect, only to miss the hidden guard completely.
"Hey, Braga," Bard said, coming up to him holding some small and light-colored overalls. "You're wife would look lovely in this."
"What d'know of my wife?" Braga asked sternly.
"One knows her as well as any man in this town," Bard simply replied.
Ignoring the implications, Hitch watched as Braga angrily snagged away the overalls as he made his way away at the front of some marching guards. Bard then motioned for the company to continue following him.
Presently, a young boy came running up to Bard; it was his son Bain.
"Da! Our house, it's being watched," he said.
"Now what?" Pipp whispered.
Bard looked back to the company, and formed a simple plan: the company would hide in the waters right under his house, and come up from their toilet when called from. The ponies, mainly Zipp, Hitch, and Pipp refused to follow, and instead waited under the dock right by the stairs.
As they waited, freezing their flanks off in the misting waters, Bain came down giving the signal for Dwalin to emerge out first.
"If you speak of this to anyone, I'll rip your arms off," he angrily hissed.
Hitch had some trouble catching a grip of the dock, and once he did emerge he had to lean back and spit out a live fish from his mouth. Once up, he helped up the pegasi sisters, though he felt like Zipp was looking more pale than before.
"Da?" called Bard's oldest daughter, Sigrid. "Why are there dwarves and ponies coming out of our toilet?"
"Will they bring us luck?" Bard's youngest child, Tilda beamed.
Unfortunately, that never came to form. Once the company were all cramped inside Bard's house, Sigrid began handing out blankets, though Zipp still denied that her body temperature was indeed dropping, however just under being drastic.
"Thanks," Sunny shivered.
Thorin had gone to a nearby window, and was staring in shock at the sight of which was mounted onto a nearby building.
"A dwarvish wind-lance," he said in awe.
Bilbo was drinking from a hot mug as he came up beside Thorin, too staring at the weapon.
"You look like you've seen a ghost."
"He has," Balin said, coming up behind them.
"What do you mean?" Sunny asked.
"The last time we saw such a weapon, a city was on fire. It was the day the dragon came."
The ponies and humans sat in anticipation, listening intently to Balin's story; Sunny could imagine once again the fires of Dale, it had never once left her mind. It was the very same atmosphere from when he told the tale of the battle of Moria.
"The day that Smaug destroyed Dale," he explained. "Girion, the Lord of the city, rallied his bowman to fire upon the beast. But a dragon's hide is tough, tougher than the strongest armor. Only a black arrow, fired from a wind-lance, could have pierced the dragon's hide, and few of those arrows were ever made. His store was running low when Girion made his last stand."
"Brave man," Zipp said, but to herself.
"Had the aim of men been true that day, much would have been different." Thorin said at last.
"You speak as if you were there," Bard noted.
"All dwarves know the tale."
"Then you would know that Girion hit the dragon," Bain put in. "He loosened a scale under the left wing. One more shot and he would have killed the beast."
"Ha ha ha!" Dwalin laughed. "That's a fairy story, lad. Nothing more."
"I've always believed that fairy tales had some true story behind them," Sunny perked up.
"Maybe, but I've never personally believed it."
"In this case, she's right," Balin shrugged.
"What do you mean?" Sunny asked.
"The last rack of black-arrows held only three, but only two were found damaged and blunt."
Bard suddenly became lost in thought, until Thorin snapped him out. "You took our money. Now where are the weapons?"
"Wait here."
As Bard left for downstairs, Thorin, Balin, Fili, and Kili whispered amongst each other.
"Tomorrow begins the last days of autumn," Thorin whispered.
"Durin's Day falls morn after next," Balin added. "We must reach the mountain before then."
"And if we do not? If we fail to find the hidden door before that time?" Kili said.
"Then this quest has been for nothing," Fili bluntly replied.
Though quietly they talked, Sunny heard enough to stride across the room; downtrodden, clutching her blanket tightly around her still shivering body. Pipp had been sipping some warm water, and lightly placed it on the nearby table before sitting herself beside her still shivering friend.
"Something on your mind?" she asked.
"It's just that...ugh, I don't know," Sunny stuttered.
"Homesick?"
"Maybe I'm just worried about this quest."
"Why? I mean, we're so close-"
"And yet with little time!"
Pipp stared in shock. "Woah. Was it something I said?"
Sunny seemed to have caught her words right in her throat, stuck on what to think or most appropriate to respond with.
"No, it..."
Just then Bard returned carrying something under his arm. He then placed it on the table, unwrapping to reveal an assortment of weaponry, all of them light, small, and homemade. The dwarves all looked to them with disgust.
"What is this," Thorin spat.
"Pike-hook," Bard explained. "Made from an old harpoon."
"And this?" Kili asked, sharing the mood of the dwarves.
"A crowbill, we call it, fashioned from a smithy's hammer. It's heavy in hand, I grant, but in defense of your life, these will serve you better than none."
"And this?" Hitch said, not expecting a response. "It's just a sharpened stick."
"We paid you for weapons," Gloin snapped. "Iron-forged swords and axes!"
"It's a joke!" Bofur added, throwing his weapon right back onto the table, the others following suit.
"You guys set your standards...cough…way to high," Zipp coughed lowering herself onto the nearby windowsill bed, checking under her bandage and finding the bleeding was controlled.
"You won't find better outside the city armory," Bard spoke up. "All iron-forged weapons are held there under lock and key."
"Thorin," Balin said to Thorin. Bard stopped himself at the name, as if it meant something familiar on his mind.
"Why not take what's been offered and go? I've made do with less; so have you. I say we leave now."
"You're not going anywhere," Bard declared.
"What did you say!?" Dwalin spat.
"There's spies watching this house and probably every dock and wharf in the town. You must wait till nightfall."
"Reasonable enough," Hitch shrugged.
Bard had stepped away from the company, lost in thought about the name "Thorin" and staring towards the mountain, until something clicked in his memory; something about a family line under the mountains.
"Da?" Bain said to Bard, confused and anxious.
"Don't let them leave," he said to his son, before hastily departing.
Hitch watched as he did, puzzled greatly before turning his attention to the sight right outside the window.
"The Lonely Mountain," he marveled. "So close at last."
"It's quite the sight, isn't it?" Bain said, coming up beside him.
"And you live under it?"
"Well, in sight of it actually."
"I'm Hitch Trailblazer," Hitch greeted himself finally.
"Bain," Bain replied, shaking his hoof. "Those are my sisters Sigrid and Tilda, and Bard is our father. What exactly brings you all here this distance?"
"Well, uh, it's our leader, Thorin Oakenshield, or son of Thrain, son of Thror if you prefer."
Hitch noticed a change in mood passing over Bain's face, like he was reminiscing something that was just eluding him.
"Something on your mind?" he asked. To his surprise, he heard Bain muttering some kind of song under his breath.
"The King beneath the mountains, The King of carven stone, The lord of silver fountains Shall come into his own!
"His crown shall be upholden, His harp shall be restrung, ]His halls shall echo golden To songs of yore re-sung.
"The woods shall wave on mountains And grass beneath the sun; His wealth shall flow in fountains And the rivers golden run.
"The streams shall run in gladness, The lakes shall shine and burn, All sorrow fail and sadness At the Mountain-king's return!"
"I'm not familiar with that song," Hitch shrugged.
"It's an old one of our making," Bain explained. "The people of Laketown are descended from our forefathers of Dale, and we haven't forgotten the legend of the Mountain King's return. The prophecy of Durin's folk we call it."
"Really? Thorin never mentioned that."
"I don't think he would have. Perhaps he didn't know."
"Maybe...hey, what's going on?"
While they had been talking about the sight of the Lonely Mountain, the company had done their own discussing, meaning they had decided to raid the armory under the cloak of darkness. However, Sunny and Izzy were staying behind, and Bilbo was waiting up for the others.
"You're not coming?" Hitch asked to the others.
"Izzy and I are the only ones who haven't been knighted remember?" she mused.
"Very funny."
"I'm serious here, Hitch!"
"So what?"
"So, I'm not going to stick my neck out for some fool-hardy stubborn dwarves! Izzy either!"
"They're a funny bunch, although slightly moronic," Izzy nodded.
"Never mind the knighting, they need our help."
"You can go ahead and get arrested, but leave us behind," Sunny finalized.
Hitch felt more betrayed than confused. Back home, it was always Sunny who would stick out her mane for the more fool-hardy missions, and yet every time she would stick beside those she considered to be friends. Hitch left feeling defeated, more tragically than all those times before.
"See you at the mountain, then," he sighed.
Hitch followed Bilbo to where the others were waiting, past all the back-docks and the guards, until they reached the others as they hid behind what Hitch assumed to be the armory.
"Where's Sunny and Izzy?" Pipp asked.
"They're staying behind," Hitch replied.
"Hey, you alright?"
"Yeah, I'll...I'll be fine."
"Shh!" Dwalin hissed. "Keep it down."
"As soon as we have the weapons, we make straight for the mountain," Thorin whispered. "Go, go, go!"
Some dwarves pulled up a makeshift pyramid of themselves as Nori rushed up and into the nearest window.
"Next."
Bilbo and Zipp followed suit, before Thorin, Kili, and a couple other dwarves clambered up and into the armory, taking whatever weapons they could carry. However, while Zipp volunteered to carry off the weapons, Thorin could see she was struggling to stand even with the excess weight.
"You all right?" he asked.
"I can manage," she replied. "Let's just get out of here."
No sooner had she spoke, that she stepped her injured hoof onto the nearest stair, lost her balance, and tumbled straight down clattering metal to wood as the stolen weapons crashed to the bottom floor. The dwarves and Pipp outside had barely time to react before the speared-ends of guard spears filled up their views. The guards quickly cornered the dwarves, ponies, and Bilbo inside, even with them taking up spears, though they had to stand down as the guard captain held his sword right to Zipp's throat.
The entire town was in a ruckus of an uproar, what with the guards bringing forth an entire company of thieves right through the town's heartland towards the largest house of the entire place. The townsfolk were yelling pitchforks and torches ablazing, coupled with the manhandling of the company.
"Get off of me!" Dwalin growled.
"Don't touch me, there!" Pipp snapped.
Presently, a middle-aged portly-looking man with an uneven mustache and dressed in a large coat exited from the giant doors followed by a slumped-looking man, dressed fully in black and standing a few steps under the first man. It was the Master of Laketown and Alfrid respectively.
"What is the meaning of this?" the Master declared.
"We caught 'em stealing weapons, sire," the guard captain, Braga, replied.
"Ah. Enemies of the state, then."
"This is a bunch of mercenaries if ever there was, sire," Alfrid stated.
"Hold your tongue," Dwalin snapped. "You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal; this is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!"
As Dwalin announced Thorin's presence he stepped forward before the crowd as they murmured to each other in excited amazement.
"We are the dwarves of Erebor," Thorin declared.
"Why did you bring their baggage ponies with them, eh?" Alfrid said to the guards.
"Did...did he just call us 'baggage ponies?!'" Pipp spat.
"They are our companions," Thorin continued. "So is the hobbit."
Bilbo smiled meekly as Hitch followed suit, though Zipp rolled her eyes, greatly familiar with this kind of talk. Pipp meanwhile looked to Thorin with wide eyes in awe.
"We have come to reclaim our homeland. I remember this town and the great days of old. Fleets of boats lay at harbor, filled with silks and fine gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake! This was the center of all trade in the North."
Thorin's voice carried a bountiful of earnestness, and it carried a song-like ostinato that moved the crowd like he was a song-bird. So even the voices of Middle-Earth carried a sort of magical charm to them, Pipp amazed.
"I would see those days return. I would relight the great forges of the dwarves and send wealth and riches flowing once more from the halls of Erebor!"
The crowd was riled something great in anticipation, to even when the Master could no longer hope to quell them, until a grim voice rang out through the crowd as Bard stepped forward followed by Sunny and Izzy.
"Death! That is what you will bring upon us," he shouted. "Dragon-fire and ruin. If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all."
"Bard? Seriously?" Pipp gasped.
"Leave him alone," Sunny sighed coming over to her. "He's a got a family to look after, and it's easier to believe in the dragon than old legends in these parts anyway."
The crowd silenced in thought, while the Master and Alfrid suddenly thought of something.
"You can listen to this naysayer," Thorin continued. "But I promise you this; If we succeed, all will share in the wealth of the mountain. You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!"
The Master and Alfrid were smiling to themselves at the events unfolding, while the dwarves and humans were cheering for Thorin. Even the ponies found wonder with his words, except Sunny.
Suddenly, Alfrid spoke up, silencing the crowd. "Why should we take it with your word, eh? We know nothing about you. Who here can vouch for your character?"
The crowd said nothing, and neither among the company stepped one foot forward, not even any of the ponies were sure if what to say.
"Me," Bilbo said from the back of the company. "I'll vouch for him."
Thorin turned to look upon their hobbit, amazed at his tenacity and courage. Pipp also marveled at his turn. "I have traveled...far...with, these dwarves and ponies through great danger, and if...Thorin Oakenshield…gives his word..."
Try as he might, and he tried the best he could, Bilbo just was not adept at speaking before large crowds and folks of power. He could to Thorin, because he knew the dwarf-king long before their time in Laketown, and Thorin was staring at Bilbo in anticipation.
"...then he will keep it," Bilbo finished at last, much to merriment of the crowd.
"All of you! Listen to me! You must listen!" Bard cried over the crowd. "Have you forgotten what happened to Dale?! Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm?!"
The crowd had silenced to his voice, taking in his words intently with the reminiscing of the destruction, following his every syllable. Sunny could only occupy herself with the thought of the dragon-fire of Dale, still unsure of how and why she saw it all unfold.
"And for what purpose? The blind ambition of a mountain-king so riven by greed, he could not see beyond his own desire!"
Bard and Thorin were now staring daggers towards one another, with the ponies and humans caught between whom to follow. The Master, however, was an opportunist; Alfrid as well, and any chance to win the people over the embarrassment of Bard was always a golden cake to be sure.
"Now, now, we must not, any of us, be too quick to lay blame," the Master declared, like he was not trying to be subtle. "Let us not forget that it was Girion, Lord of Dale, your ancestor, who failed to kill the beast!"
The Master was clearly pointing his remarks right to Bard, with the crowd clambering behind
his words. Thorin and the ponies looked up to Bard in shock. It was an obvious wonder why he never mentioned it to them before, but it was still a surprise to be sure.
"It's true, sire," Alfrid pipped up. "We all know the story: arrow after arrow he shot, each one missing its mark."
The crowd riled up behind their words of hatred, fully domineering their minds over Bard's while the ponies and Bilbo watched on in befuddlement. Such a division and fight for power over the people, though one with more cynical sense than the other. Even if the legends were to come true, the company would still have to deal with the unwanted prospect of the Great and Terrible Smaug. As much as she wanted to stick close to her friends and possible, Sunny found herself siding the most with Bard.
"You have no right, no right to enter that mountain," Bard spoke severely to Thorin.
"I have the only right," Thorin replied. He had made his position quite clear turning back to face the Master. "I speak to the Master of the men of the Lake. Will you see the prophecy fulfilled? Will you share in the great wealth of our people?"
The Master never once lost his gaze over Thorin as he took some moments to ponder to himself over the possibilities: either lose the people to the cynicism of his greatest adversary, or win the people with the prospect of gold to be won from under the fabled Mountain kingdom of Erebor.
"What say you?"
"I say unto you..." he said at last, shaking his finger to Thorin. "Welcome! Welcome and thrice welcome, King under the Mountain!"
Now that the Master had finalized his decision to back behind the company, and with the prospect of the old legends finally coming true, the people of Laketown cheered and cried with joy at the welcome of Thorin and his company. Thorin welcomed his praise, and stood on the very steps beside the Master, while Bard stared on at the scene before him in silent disbelief.
Sunny then approached him. "Bard," she said. "Please, you must understand."
"Understand what, that you were promised a share of the treasure?" he hissed.
When Sunny did not reply, he simply stormed off behind the gathered crowd.
"Sunny, come on!" Izzy called to her. "You're missing a party!"
The Master's servants had all quickly gathered up a large enough table for all nineteen of the company, and whipped up a sizable feast for the evening. Though the old tales never told of either the unearthly-looking ponies or Bilbo, they were nonetheless treated as privileged as Thorin and the dwarves. While the dwarves sloppily ate through the meat like they were vacuum cleaners, the ponies ate up the freshly prepared vegetables, some with more grace than others, Bilbo was quite almost the only one among them who even carried still his table manners from far back in Bag End.
"This would be the most depressing feast if it weren't for the delicious food," Gloin spoke through a pound of turkey meat.
"Yeah, how about a song?" Kili suggested with a smile.
"Hey Pipp!" Izzy called. "Why don't you sing?"
"Me? Heh, I don't know guys," she humored.
"Oh, come one! Please!"
"Sure," Zipp said. "Why not?"
"Perhaps, perhaps not," Pipp smiled with laughter.
"Lady Pipp," Thorin spoke up from his drink. "It would such a pleasure to hear you sing, if you do not mind it."
"Well, if Thorin gave his blessing...oh, all right then. What do you all want to hear?"
"Something of your own composition," Dori suggested.
"Perhaps with some dancing from you as well," Ori said.
"As long as it's not as slow as the funeral march from Rivendell," Oin said between sips of wine.
"Maybe some *hic* some...rejuvenation *hic*," Bofur said, heavily drunk on the wine.
"Hey, how about that song you sang the night we met," Hitch said, before backtracking. "I mean, when we crashed that, um...party of yours."
Pipp looked to Hitch with such a beautiful smile that he could not help himself but become dazed at her sight.
"Alright," she said, clinking her glass with a spoon. "Excuse me, excuse me everyone. A song has been requested from me, and I shall deliver for your enjoyment."
She leapt into the air, wings spread and glimmering, and began one of her more well-known songs from back home in Zephyr Heights; assisted by the glamour of Anvil:
"Pipp: Glowin' up kind of love Dip and slide through the cut Glowin' up kind of love We say 'Hi,' you say 'What?'
"Ooh-hoo ooh Ooh-hoo ooh Oh
"Used to care what they'd say Let 'em into my brain But I found a new way Ooh-hoo Every time I fall down I pick it up like rebound Gotta get through somehow
"We don't fly like we used to We take what we've been through And we can feel brand new Ooh-hoo-hoo I know I am a fighter I feel the fire I'm shining brighter Ooh-hoo-hoo
"We got the light We're coming in stronger We're in it together If you want it it's all inside your mind We got the light Won't wait any longer We'll get it together If you want it then you can paint the sky"
To Pipp's merriment, and to the others, Hitch joined in alongside her. Bilbo could only smile at their duet.
"Pipp and Hitch: Glowin' up kind of love Dip and slide through the cut Glowin' up kind of love We say 'Hi,' you say 'What?'
"Glowin' up kind of love Dip and slide through the cut Glowin' up kind of love We say 'Hi,' you say 'What?'
"Pipp: Everywhere that I've been Yeah, they I'm say different But I'm good in my skin Ooh-hoo, hey If it doesn't feel right Break it in with tie dye And don't you stop 'til sunrise
"Pipp and Hitch: We don't fly like we used to We take what we've been through And we can feel brand new
Pipp: Ooh-hoo-hoo
Hitch: I know I am a fighter
Pipp: I feel the fire
Hitch: I'm shining brighter
Pipp: Ooh-hoo-hoo
"Pipp and Hitch: We got the light We're coming in stronger We're in it together If you want it it's all inside your mind We got the light Won't wait any longer We'll get it together If you want it then you can paint the sky (hey)"
While elven music carried a sense of calm elegance, and hobbit music carried the sense of home, dwarven music was usually more rowdy and like a party, and they were one of the few races of Middle-Earth that could follow along with the tones of whatever song floated their boat, and even join in should they wish too. And at the chorus, so they did.
"Pipp and Hitch: Glowin' up kind of love Dip and slide through the cut Glowin' up kind of love We say, 'Hi', You say, 'What?'
Glowin' up kind of love (oh) Dip and slide through the cut (oh) Glowin' up kind of love We say, 'Hi,' You say, What?
We got the kind of love We got the kind of love (Hitch: Ooh-hoo ooh) Ooh-hoo-hoo
"We got the light (ooh-hoo ooh) We got the kind of (ooh-hoo ooh) We got the kind of love (ooh, ooh, ooh) We got the light
"Glowin' up kind of love Dip and slide through the cut Glowin' up kind of love We say, 'Hi,' you say, 'What?'
"Glowin' up kind of love; (Hitch: ooh-hoo ooh) (Dwarves: we got the kind of) Dip and slide through the cut; (ooh-hoo ooh) (we got the kind of love)
Chorus: Glowin' up kind of love We say, 'Hi!'
"All in the dining hall: We got the light!"
The hall erupted in applause, cheer, and appraisal shouts from the dwarves, while Bilbo and Thorin politely applauded in less of a ruckus than the others. The Master raised his wine glass in a toast, followed by Alfrid and the other men. Izzy of course applauded the loudest, this time Bifur and Bombur could not help themselves but share in her joy.
Between the duet singers right in the hall's center, another scene played out, one where they could not hold it back anymore, and became embraced in yet another kiss of passion, not since they escape from Mirkwood. The hall went silent yet again, nothing was spoken above the pair, and apart from keeping her coughs silent Zipp shedded a few tears of joy. Suddenly, Thorin wholeheartedly clapped and smiled, followed by Bilbo, then the remainder of the company cheering and clapping again.
Anvil had never or since been more proud of its mistress.
The very next morning, the Master not only provided the company with the most adequate boat necessary for the journey to the mountain, but with warm enough clothing for the cold weather, even for the ponies as well. All wore matching red warm coats and armor with weapons, provided the moment they each stepped foot inside the Master's halls. The citizens were all lined up on the piers waiting to watch them make their leave of the city, and the Master and Alfrid were stood atop their platform right above where the band was waiting for the call off to start.
"You do know we're one short," Bilbo pointed out. "Where's Bofur?"
"If he's not here, we leave him behind," Thorin bluntly replied.
"We have to, if we're to find the door before nightfall," Balin said. "We can risk no more delays."
Sunny sat with Izzy and Bilbo at the front, saving a spot for Thorin, while Pipp and Hitch were sitting beside Ori, Fili, and Kili. Zipp limped towards the edge of the boat, when Thorin stopped her.
"Not you," he said. "We must travel with speed. You will only slow us down."
At first, she assumed he was joking. "What are you talking about? I'm coming with you."
"No," Thorin replied.
"Y-you're not joking, aren't you?"
"Lady Zipp, stay here. Rest. Join us when you're healed."
Thorin turned to enter the boat, leaving a Zipp dumbfounded behind.
"I'll stay with the lass," Oin spoke up, exiting the boat. "My duty lies with the wounded."
Hitch looked to Zipp, sensing the plight on her pale growing face, then he got up and followed Oin out of the boat. Pipp followed him, until he stopped her.
"No, I'll stay," he said.
"Can you promise you'll protect her? My sister?" she pleaded.
They then clasped hooves, before sharing a goodbye kiss. "I promise."
Pipp returned to her spot in the boat, dismayed as Ori gently stroked her main, as Fili and Kili then got out of the boat behind Hitch.
"Fili, Kili, don't be fools," Thorin said. "You belong with the company."
"I belong with my friend," Kili stated.
"I as well, not just with my brother," Fili added.
Kili then clasped the shoulder of his uncle. "We'll meet up with you in the Mountain," he smiled.
Thorin smiled back, before climbing aboard taking his place at the very head of the boat, right as the Master began the band's music to send them off. Pipp watched as Zipp, Hitch, Oin, Fili, and Kili waved them off in the growing distance as company rowed their boat right along the main canal. Soon enough, Laketown atop Lake Esgaroth was distant behind them, and the Lonely Mountain was ahead.
Bilbo and Sunny looked to Thorin, who stared ahead with such pride that they had not seen in him, not even the moment he had arrived in Bag End. However, Bilbo and Sunny also shared the very same fear: Smaug was still asleep inside the mountain, and as far as they were concerned he had been lying in wait, or at least prepared for any...unwanted intruders.
The Hobbit: Third-Age Generation
Chapter Eleven: On the Doorstep
Chapter Eleven: On the Doorstep
The sun could only raise in small chunks as whoever was left of the company rowed their boat up to the ruined harbors of Dale. None of them could deny how splendid the sight of Erebor was in the distance.
"It's magnificent," Sunny gaped.
"It's a wonder," Bilbo added.
"It truly is," Thorin said. "And I am glad you both are a part of this company. To be here beside me, in this moment, it is truly an honor."
Both Sunny and Bilbo blushed with flattery, even though Thorin never once kept his gaze off the mountain.
Izzy stared the most with the greatest amount of wonder in her eyes, and Bifur and Bombur, who both had grown close to the young unicorn, could not deny the sparkle of wonderous amazement that was the sparkle.
"It's so beautiful!" she beamed.
"Well, after some years of living inside the halls, the wonder seems to...dry up," Bombur sheepishly smiled.
"What was it like, living in Erebor?" she turned to the dwarves.
Bifur sighed in smiling reminiscing, before talking away in the dwavish he was stuck speaking, and though Izzy could barely understand a word he was saying she did not speak out of turn until he finished.
"What my cousin means to say," Bombur said. "Is that it was nothing like we have ever experienced. Three square meals a day, the markets and streets of Dale to find something or someone new to meet, no less amount of plentiful fortune, and of the course the best part was the vastness of the kitchens."
Bifur shot a glance towards Bombur, silencing him in shock, before smiling and lightly chuckling. Beaming at her new friends, Izzy thought back to the flower she fastened to Oin's ear trumpet, and privately choking up remembering his wide smile.
"What'cha writing there?" she turned to Gloin, who was scribbling onto a small sheet of paper with a scrap of charcoal. "Is it more of those, 'long-term deposity' thingies?"
"No, actually it's a run-down of the share each of us will receive of the treasure," Gloin explained. "I've been putting it off for awhile, but now seems like the...most opportune moment."
"I thought myself and the others agreed to...what was it...forfeit?"
"Well, my calculations have taken that into account."
"What was your job in Erebor?"
"I was the personal financial advisor to King Thror under the Mountain, while my brother was a part of the royal apothecaries, in fact he was en route to be the head apothecary...until the dragon came, of course."
Though Gloin became saddened and worried about remembering about Smaug, he was lightened at the sight of Izzy not sharing his mood.
"You have a son, right?"
"Gimli, yes."
"Is he proud of you?"
"Couldn't be more proud of his old-dwarf, he could."
Gloin then smiled back to her. "Thanks," he said reassuringly. "I needed that."
Dori, Nori, Ori, and Dwalin helmed the oars, keeping mostly to themselves while silently marveling at the sight and thought of returning home, or in Ori's case, seeing the fabled Lonely Mountain at last, for he had been raised from the tales of his brothers, as Fili and Kili from Thorin.
Pipp watched as Sunny and Bilbo sat behind Thorin's staunch posture, very much glad for how they and the others have grown to appreciate each other, and yet she was the only one among them who was less than thrilled about where they were heading.
Only Balin seemed to had noticed her plight. "Something on your mind, lass?" he asked.
She sighed. "I don't know, Balin."
"You're missing them, am I right?"
She sighed again. "Yeah. I just always thought that...from the very beginning of this journey, Zipp would be there beside me."
"You are close to her?"
"When we were younger, but not so much as we grew."
"I'm inclined to believe that you two get along."
"Oh yeah, we do just...not as much, as we used to."
Balin could see that the topic was hurting her something she deeply regretted, and to his good graces that no one else was listening in.
"That stallion you traveled," he said smiling. "You fancy him, don't you?"
Pipp immediately looked to his gaze, before cracking her own smile catching his humor, which in turn became a light giggle.
"I suppose the game's up, as the saying goes," she humored.
"He is handsome, I'll grant him that," Balin added.
"Yes, yes he is." She sounded like she was in a dream-like state, until it wore off.
"Something wrong?" Balin asked, noticing the stark contrast on her face.
"It's funny really: how Hitch and Zipp are out of danger while it's me on the way to face the dragon. Should I be scared?"
Balin understood the plight, as he could see it full-forced on the faces of each and every one of the remaining dwarves, even Thorin could not shield it.
"Can I tell you something?" he said, softly.
"What?"
"I'm scared out of my wits as well, and Thorin too."
"You know what's also funny? How we have come so far, and only now, at journey's end, do we get to know each other more, you know?" she smiled meekly.
Ori, who had been paddling behind her, took notice. "You know," he spoke. "I just wanted to say...thank you."
"For what?" Pipp asked.
"Well," Ori stammered. "I grew up on tales and songs of the Mountain, from my brothers, and...really, all of the songs they sang to me at nigh', now that I think abou' i', sound all the same."
"You were raised by your brothers?"
"Dori's the oldest out of the three of us, and really became my father after he passed away, though he doesn' approve of Nori's 'abits."
"I heard Hitch called him a thief," Pipp noted.
"Well, I won' deny that 'e's done some...unscrupulous actions, or wha'ever you call it, but the money 'e's earned 'as 'elped us a' least keep food on the table. Not tha' I agree with his career choices or anythin'. Wha' I mean to say is...I, really love your singin' voice."
Ori laughed nervously as he blushed with embarrassment. "Call it a nice change of pace, I think."
"Wha' my brother means to say is that your singin' voice is unlike anythin' us dwarves are accustomed to," Dori said. "And that song, definitely foreign."
Pipp could not tell if Dori meant to be critiquing or complimenting, but he was most assuredly the biggest curmudgeon of the company.
"Never mind 'im," Ori said. "'E's always been like this. It's 'ard for 'im to warm to somethin' new and improved."
"Oi!"
The dwarves had a good hearted chuckle from Ori, even Pipp had a partake. Though it was obvious he had a fancy for her, she did not mind his kindness, as she felt it was sorely lacking from most of the other dwarves. Even Bilbo found the humor in the atmosphere.
"Everyone," Thorin called from the front. "Belt up! We're here."
It took only a few moments for the company to dock there boat on the shore of the Lonely Mountain, more so for some of them to get up and ready. Bilbo, for instance, removed his regal clothing opting to keep only the blue robe Sigrid had given him, for he had left behind his treasured red jacket. The dwarves on the other hand took time to gather their weaponry, while the remaining ponies kept only their cloaks.
By midday the company was hiking across the flat-stone laden terrain, with Thorin taking up the front, map and key in hand. The sword he was give was nowhere the elegance of Orchrist, though his pride was at a higher set of standards than the others; Sunny and Izzy were the only ones among them who refused the offer of weaponry from the men.
Bilbo walked alongside Balin and Sunny, until he suddenly stopped, and thought in silence.
"It's so quiet," he said.
Sunny stopped as well, understanding the isolation he discovered about them. "It feels so... empty," she said. "And lifeless."
"It wasn't always like this," Balin said, coming up behind them. "Once, these slopes were lined with woodlands," he said, pointing to the ash ridden lands about them, as a gray-colored bird flew right past them. "The trees, were filled with birdsong."
Bilbo watched in anxiousness as the small bird landed on a perch atop a fallen and long-perished tree.
"To think that after all this time," Sunny wavered in her voice. "Nature continues to thrive, in such ruin."
Thorin then approached the pair from behind, taking in their worrying.
"Relax you two," he assured, not as haughty as he was prone to b in the past. "We have food, we have tools, and we're making good time."
Something then caught his eye in the distance as he ran up to a rock overlooking a deep valley. Sunny came up beside him looking off to what he was staring intently at, and she too stared with the same face, the face of remembrance of fear.
Sitting in undisturbed ruin, was the city of Dale. The bridge had remained, though most of the buildings were in rubble, if not from the dragon-fire then from the long decades of silent erosion. The others had come up to the edge as well.
"What is this place?" Bilbo asked.
"It was once the city of Dale," Balin explained, filled with great remorse. "Now it is a ruin. The Desolation of Smaug."
"It hasn't lost its charm, really," Izzy said. "I can still see the people in the market square, and the kids flying their kites up high."
"The sun will soon reach midday," Thorin immediately spoke up. "Let's find the hidden door before it sets.
"Wait," Bilbo said to Thorin. "Isn't this the overlook? Gandalf said to meet him here. On no account were we-"
"Do you see him?" Thorin abruptly interrupted. "We have no time to wait upon the wizard. We're on our own. Come on!"
Thorin's voice was not as sounding commanding as before, but the dwarves did follow in his stead. Bilbo however, was more conflicted than before, even after he followed behind the excitable Izzy.
"Hey, Balin," Pipp said. "Could I talk to you for a moment, alone?"
Balin begrudgingly agreed to remain at the rear, only after seeing yet another plight about her.
"Sure. What's the matter, lass?" he asked.
"I...wanted to tell you earlier, only," she paused.
"Only you didn't trust me before, I understand."
Pipp breathed in and sighed, relaxing herself before she began explaining their coming. She left not a single detail out of the mix, taking her time between pauses, while Balin listened intently, not daring to speak up until she finished.
"Have you told Bilbo about this?" he asked.
"The moment we met. Or, became acquainted actually," she lightly giggled. "But, how did you all and Gandalf know about us?"
"How Gandalf knew about your world I do not know. The important thing is that he did, and that now you and your friends are here."
Balin's fatherly poise and smile warmed to Pipp's heart. He was indeed like the father-figure to the company, especially as a mentor to Thorin. He always listened to every aspect of the conversation at hand, and only spoke his input when he felt like it was necessary, at least for others.
"Pipp! Balin!" Sunny called. "Don't lag behind now, not when we're so close!"
"The last time she that very same spring in her galop, the outcome was unfavorable." Pipp consoled.
"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Well, we brought together these ancient jewels expecting them to bring back the magic to our world, but it didn't work."
With that, the two hurried back up to the company.
The dwarves, ponies, and Bilbo had reached the mountainside, as indicated on Thorin's map, but so far no sign of the hidden door could be found just yet.
"Anything?!" Thorin called.
"Nothing!" Dwalin called back.
"No luck here!" Izzy called from Bifur's side.
"If the map is true," Thorin pondered aloud. "The hidden door lies directly above us."
"I mean, it is a mountain after all," Pipp grumbled. "For all we know it's right at the tiptop."
"Up here!" Bilbo called in the distance.
Thorin, Sunny, and Pipp rushed to his side to find a dwarven warrior carved right into the mountainside, but also beside a set of makeshift but unconventional stairs leading right up to a flattened overlook.
"You have keen eyes, Master Baggins!" Thorin beamed with pride.
"This is it! It's right up there!" Sunny stared, wide-eyed.
Once the company regrouped they all painstakingly hoisted one another right up the more than treacherous staircase, Sunny right behind Thorin and Bilbo, Izzy clinging tightly to Bifur's neck, and Bombur constantly losing his balance on the steps, but with help from Pipp, who had to unfortunately ditch the Laketown cloak, they made it just in time at the rear of the gathered company.
Thorin stood on his own, out front, clutching the key like it might have been the most precious to him. Pipp looked back, seeing the sun setting above the distant mountaintops.
"This must be it," Sunny gasped. "The hidden door!"
"Indeed it is," Thorin smiled. "Let all those who doubted us RUE THIS DAY!"
The company could not help but cheer at their impending victory, even Bilbo was excitable at their journey's coming.
Once Thorin regained himself, he began searching up and down the wall, for something, anything that remotely looked like a keyhole. His ecstatic smile was immediately dampened, more so once he turned to see the setting sun just about reach the mountain range's tip.
"'The last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole'," he recited.
The panic on his face was becoming more and more evident by the minute, pacing back and forth, reciting the poem constantly in his mind trying to find the meaning in what the last line meant about "shining upon the keyhole". Nothing seemed to add.
How come the sun's not revealing the keyhole? Sunny thought to herself, very much beginning to share the frantic in Thorin's manner.
"Nori," Thorin ordered.
As Nori was the company's designated thief, he approached the wall, tapping at every bit while listening through a cup for any hollow spaces. As the work not only required patience but time, which was draining fast, Dwalin rushed forward and began pounding and kicking at the wall.
"We're losing the light," Thorin rushed.
"Come on!" Dwalin growled.
"Be quiet! I can't hear when you're thumping!" Nori snapped.
"I can't find it...it's not here! It's not here!"
The sun was now setting more deeper into the horizon, the deeply red-shaded sunlight fading fast. Sunny could only pant in desperate gasps as Thorin's frantic anger was manifesting once more.
"Not now," she whimpered. "Not again, not when we're so close."
"Break it down!" he cried to the dwarves.
Dori, Nori, Ori, and Bombur stood back with the others as Dwalin, Gloin, and Bifur brought their weapons and began smashing against the stone-firm wall.
"Come on!" Thorin roared.
All they succeeded in doing was damaging their Laketown leased weapons beyond and hope of repair, while leaving not even a scratch or a divot in the stone.
"It's no good!" Balin spoke up from the rear.
"What?!" Sunny gasped.
"The door's sealed. It can't be opened by force. There's powerful magic on it." He muttered the last bit under his breath.
At last, Dwalin, Gloin, and Bifur dropped their blunted weapons in exhaustion, never the less unfortunate for their fortune's turn. Sunny could only watch in desperation as the last of the sunlight disappeared behind the distant mountain range on the horizon.
"No!" Thorin cried.
His desperation was met with nothing else but defeated looks from the company, some more worse for where, especially Sunny. All he could do was look at any glance he could on the map, praying beyond hope that something would jump out and scream "you missed me!", yet nothing did.
"'The last of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole'. That's what it says!"
He held out his arms in disbelief to the others, but none returned his gaze. There was not a shred of hope amongst them, at least for those who were not dwarves, or Sunny.
They had come so far, so close to achieving some kind of end to the journey, exhausting every ounce of hope she had left.
But in the end, once again, they had to just trip over the last hurdle, and by some magic that was out of their control.
It was hopeless.
"What did we miss?"
Sunny held her head in shame, praying that none of the others had noticed the tears swelling in her eyes.
"What did we miss, Balin?"
The wise dwarf looked upon the rightful heir to Erebor, with defeat in his posture, and sighed heavily in guilt.
"We've lost the light," he spoke, no one else missing his words or their meaning. "There's no more work to be done. We had but one chance."
The dwarves in turn hung in despair as one by one they turned and trudged back to the stairs.
"Come away," Balin sighed. "It's...it's over."
"Wait a minute!" Bilbo squeaked.
"You wait," Gloin grumbled.
Bilbo then turned back to Thorin, who kept his back to Bilbo's face.
"Where are they going? You can't give up now!"
"He's right!" Izzy called, desperation also filling her worried voice. "Perhaps there's another secret entrance..."
"Izzy," Sunny mumbled.
"A secret-secret entrance just around the back, or on the other side..."
"Izzy!"
"Or better yet, no wait, we could dig under the mountain! Yes, that's it! We'll dig under and emerge right inside the mountain...!"
"IZZY!"
Aside from Thorin, only the ponies and Bilbo remained at the wall-side, silent as the night after Sunny angrily snapped at her friend, leaving them quiet and terrified.
"It's done! It's over!"
Sunny turned away from the others, head hanging low and trotting in the slowest pace possible, her mind becoming overrun with nothing else but sadness; it was a familiar situation, though the stakes were more ungrateful than before.
"Sunny," Pipp called. "Sunny, wait!"
Sunny stopped, just only at the slope which lead to the first step away.
"Sunny, it's not over yet. We can still finish this-"
"How?!"
"What?"
"How, how can this journey be finished if we missed the chance to even open the door?! Don't you get it?! We're now stuck in this godforsaken book, with no hope of going home, and to make matters worse your sister is completely out of action!"
Pipp could only look into the saddened eyes of her friend with horror in her breath, even as Izzy's smile finally drooped.
Thorin had heard all, though he smartly chose not to intervene. With defeat finally overtaking his senses, he gazed upon his grandfather's key, before letting it drop right from his grip onto the stone at his feet with a loud clink.
"Thorin," Bilbo spoke, right as Thorin shoved the map right at his chest. "You can't give up now."
His pleas were all in vain, no thanks to the unruly dwarven stubbornness, for Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, heir to the kingdom of the Lonely Mountain simply strolled past the remainders to the slope and out of sight around the corner.
Sunny began trotting behind him, when Pipp stopped her again, this time tears swelling in her eyes as well.
"Sunny, please," she choked. "Don't do this to me, not again."
"I should've learnt from the first time around," was all Sunny could reply. "I cannot believe I was stupid enough to have even bought that...damn book."
That was all she mustered to reply, before she too left the hobbit and pegasus behind, beyond emotionally hurt. Izzy glanced back at both of them, before rushing after Sunny in her stead.
Now, truly, Pipp was left behind. Alone, scared, and sad.
Bilbo was left standing, at the threshold of Erebor, far from warm and comforts of Bag End, and despaired not at the departure of the dwarves, but at the sobbing of the only friend who remained behind with him. He had no idea what words to say that would even amount to comfort on her mind, for he was not Balin, Elrond, Beorn, or even...Gandalf. Wherever the Gray Wizard had faired himself, he hoped it was more fortunate than the situation at the moment.
Trying his absolute dandiest to keep concentrated, he paced back and forth, reciting the poem again and again, multiple times out loud.
"'Stand by the gray stone...'"
He stood right at the wall's face.
"'When the thrush knocks...'"
He looked about him but there was no sign of anything to amount to a thrush.
"'Setting sun'...'and the last light of Durin's Day will shine.' Hmm. The last light, the last light."
The evening was becoming the longest yet of his life, and at first he tried thinking back to his delicious food and comfy arm chair. Despair won him over at the sounds of the seemingly never-ending sobs from Pipp; on the flat hard stone, the gleam from Anvil almost nonexistent.
His mind was cluttered with anxious worry for his friend, choking up himself in his throat. Instead, sudden but meaningful in no other way he could think of, he began to sing; softly, like to a child being tucked into bed.
"Bilbo: Roads go ever ever on, Over rock and under tree, By caves where never sun has shone, By streams that never find the sea; Over snow by winter sown, And through the merry flowers of June, Over grass and over stone, And under mountains in the moon.
"Roads go ever ever on Under cloud and under star, Yet feet that wandering have gone Turn at last to home afar. Eyes that fire and sword have seen And horror in the halls of stone Look at last on meadows green And trees and hills they long have known."
Once Bilbo finished the final verse, he strolled over to sit beside Pipp, allowing his hobbit-feet to limply dangle over the stoned edge. Pipp straightened up, still despaired but comforted by the hobbit. He too was despaired, so she smiled meekly to meet his eyes.
"That was lovely, Bilbo," she complimented. "Where did you learn it?"
"I-uh, actually made it up on the spot," he stammered. "Though I have heard bits and pieces from...from when my mother and father were still alive."
Bilbo's face then drooped, hanging as his neck dropped with his spine. Pipp then shifted closer to him, wrapping her wing around him in comfort.
"You know, you would make a great father."
Bilbo blushed, but took the words in deeply. "Would I really?"
Pipp smiled, no longer tearful. "Yes, yes I do believe so."
"I am glad you're with me. Even here, at the end of all things."
"Bilbo, don't take what Sunny said to heart. So many great things have happened since our coming to this...wonderous world."
"Like what?"
"Well, meeting you, Gandalf, Thorin and the others. Then, finding the weapons, and Anvil in the troll-hoard. It was a pleasure to stay in Rivendell as guests of Elrond. Uh..."
"Then you being knighted by Thorin?"
"Yeah...yeah, then being knighted by Thorin. Staying over at Beorn's house, with all those lovely flowers planted about his place."
"And then of course you got together with Hitch," Bilbo smirked.
Pipp immediately shot a look to Bilbo, before catching his chuckle as the two laughed long and proud into the night.
"I-I mean, no, no disrespect," Bilbo stammered, catching his breath.
"No-no it's, it's quite alright." Pipp calmed herself greatly, careful not to either drop Anvil or to drop herself or Bilbo. "In fact, I'd say that was the highlight of the journey."
"You two make an amazing duet."
"I know right? We just match so perfectly! It's like magic!"
"It might actually be magic."
She smiled. It was genuine of her, as most times she smiled it for publicity, and all for show, which hurt after a while.
"You're all welcome to stay with me, you know."
"Really?"
"Yes," Bilbo nodded. "You're all my friends, and I wish only the best for you all in life."
"Bilbo, it would be an honor for us to stay with you in Bag End. Truly it would. It means so much to me."
The smile faded from her face, looking down to the Desolation below in the valley.
"Could you, if it's not a bother, recite the poem again? The one from the map, I mean."
"Sure thing. 'Stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole'."
"Who knew dwarves could be such masters of poetry."
Up above, the clouds parted ways revealing the eventide rays of the moonlight that shone brightly upon the clearing. Suddenly, from behind them, came the knocking of something against stone. They stood and watched as a small thrush rapped the shell of a snail against a small stone, then it flew off as the moonlight manifested against the stone wall.
"The last light. The last light!" Pipp gaped. "Bilbo that's it! It was a riddle!"
"'The last light of Durin's Day!' Of course!" Bilbo cried in excitement.
Pipp ran up the wall right as a particular ray shone brightly a small shape carved into the rock; the shape of a keyhole.
"Yes! YES! COME BACK!"
"Stay here, Bilbo! I'll get them!"
Without waiting a second's pause, she leapt into the air soaring down the mountainside, catching the others who were camped just behind the corner.
"SUNNY! IZZY! EVERYONE!"
They all looked up to the her figure gleefully crying and dancing in the air.
"THE KEYHOLE! COME BACK! IT'S THE LIGHT OF THE MOON, THE LAST MOON OF AUTUMN! IT'S THERE! THE SECRET ENTRANCE IS THERE! HA, HA!"
She did not stop to see the looks of absolute triumph on their faces, instead she zoomed out of sight back to the mountainside clearing. Fortunately, she was in time to see the very key be accidentally kicked off the edge, catching right as she flew up to land blissfully beside the hobbit.
Presently enough, Thorin and the others had come up the path all standing proud and in a row; Izzy smiled the greatest. Pipp proudly approached the king, and bowing in respect, presented him the key, to which he beamed with the pride of his ancestors. Once Thorin waltzed to the keyhole, Pipp went beside Sunny, more guilty about her actions than before. Neither said a word to the other, instead Bilbo watched as she wrapped the same comforting wing he was privy too, but to Sunny instead.
The dwarves could not have been more proud of the hobbit if they tried, Balin and Thorin especially.
Thorin took great care when handling the key in the keyhole. Once inserted and twisted, a mechanism was heard working from behind the stone. Using all his might, he heaved at the stone wall, pushing a large slab inward to reveal a darkened corridor.
"We're in," Sunny beamed.
"Erebor..." The delight within Thorin could not be mustered into the proper words to be spoken.
"Thorin," Balin too choked up.
Thorin placed his hand upon the old dwarf's shoulder as one by one the company of Thorin Oakenshield finally entered into the very halls of Erebor, the Kingdom under the Mountain.
"I know these walls...these walls, this stone. You remember it, Balin. Chambers filled with golden light."
"I remember."
Thorin remained lost in reminisced thought as he pawned his hands over the smooth stone lining the walls encasing them.
"Leave him to himself, Izzy," Pipp advised. "They're all still going through the motions, Thorin especially."
"We're finally here, Pipp," Sunny beamed. "And, I just wanted to-"
"No apologies necessary, I understand. We're still friends, aren't we?"
"Yes, yes we are."
Nori then pointed the company to a carving on the wall. Encased in the carving, was the image of stone sending rays of light to all directions, and floating above a dwarf sitting in his throne, and beside were six other dwarvish royalties.
Below the carving was a transcription in ancient dwarvish.
"'Herein lies the seventh kingdom of Durin's Folk,'" Gloin read aloud. "'May the heart of the mountain unite all dwarves in defense of this home.'"
Bilbo and the ponies were entranced by the carving, though confused about its meaning.
"The throne of the king," Balin explained.
"Oh," Bilbo said. "And what's that above it?"
"The Arkenstone."
Balin winked to Pipp, who returned the gesture.
"Arkenstone…And what's that?"
"That, Master Burglar," Thorin spoke at last. "Is why you are here."
The Hobbit: Third-Age Generation
Chapter Twelve: Inside Information
Chapter Twelve: Inside Information
Truth be told, everyone at present felt a twinge of anxiety at Thorin's words; the most of which came of course from Bilbo. Apart from him, Pipp came next, and then came Sunny.
"Well, I," he stammered. "I guess this...this is it, then. Time for me to...be the burglar."
Bilbo was more than nervous out of his wits, in fact absolutely terrified at the prospect that laid ahead for him, yet Thorin did not drop his grin of confidence, which did help, if only a little.
"I'll go with you, Bilbo," Pipp spoke up.
"No," Thorin immediately replied. "This is a job for only for our burglar."
"Then only for a short bit."
"Aye, I'll go to," Balin said.
Bilbo nodded, shaking his entire body up and down at the accompaniment, to which Thorin reluctantly agreed to, seeing that their burglar was going to need all the support he could get.
Balin and Pipp accompanied Bilbo down the corridor that led directly into the heart of Erebor.
"You want me to find a jewel?" he asked.
"A large white jewel, yes," Balin answered.
"That's it? Only, I imagine there's quite a few down there."
Pipp chuckled. "You should have seen it, Bilbo. There's literally nothing else like it."
"She's right, lad. There is only one Arkenstone. You'll know it when you see it."
"Alright."
Bilbo paused. "Wait, how do you know about the Arkenstone?"
"Well, I suppose one of us should've told you earlier: when we entered the book, some narrator gave us a guided tour of Erebor when Smaug arrived, which included the Arkenstone."
Bilbo gave her a look that was more incredulous than satisfied. "Fair enough."
"In truth, lad, I do not know what you will find down there," Balin said. "You needn't go if you don't want to, there's no dishonor in turning back."
Bilbo replied immediately. "No, Balin, I promised I would do this, and I think I must try."
Balin looked to the hobbit, and chuckled with appreciation. Truth be told, though he doubted his capabilities, there were no such thoughts after coming so far.
"It never ceases to amaze me."
"What's that?"
"The courage of hobbits. Go now with as much luck as you can muster."
Pipp smiled to her friend as she turned back with Balin, who then stopped and turned back to Bilbo.
"Oh, and Bilbo...if there is, in fact, a live dragon down there..." Balin paused, very much unsure about his response. "Don't waken it."
Once Pipp was sure Bilbo was out of earshot, and not close enough to the rest of the company, she rolled her eyes to Balin.
"Very helpful, Balin," she said.
Neither said anything again until they became reacquainted with the others.
"Where is he?" Thorin asked.
Balin hesitated his response, only Pipp spoke up before him. "He's in."
The company turned their faces to all show signs of nothing but worry. The sun had risen from the dawn, unfortunately masked behind the gloomiest of overcasts, and not even a breeze dared come near the mountainside.
They all sat in fearful silence, anxious to even comprehend what Bilbo must have been experiencing down in the depths of Erebor. Pipp was the most fearful for Bilbo's safety, though she was a distant away from the rest, and while Izzy was teaching Bifur to knit, Sunny came up behind her.
"He'll be alright," she soothed. It was a bit of a lie, and Pipp could see it.
"I'm not doubting his abilities," Pipp replied, leaning her head to hoof. "And you shouldn't either."
Sunny was taken slightly aback, the chuckled nervously. "I'm not doubting him either, Pipp-"
"Oh, come off it, Sunny."
"What?" Pipp immediately stood and trotted a distance between them. "What did I do?"
Pipp did not respond.
"Pipp, I don't get it! What did I do?!"
"You gave up, okay?!"
The others were now listening and watching the heating argument, say for Izzy, who kept her attention to her knitting, and Thorin, who was looking out into the distance deep in his own contemplation.
"But, I apologized, right?" Sunny whimpered. "I didn't."
Anvil the most could see that its mistress was deeply distressed, but what was it to do? Or the others? Izzy could not follow the chain of the conversation, or perhaps did not want to, and the dwarves were unsure if their perspective on the matter was necessary.
If anything, Sunny was feeling more hurt that her friend was upset with her, and she could not blame her for it; only herself.
Pipp looked back to Sunny when she did not say anything else, frustrated. "Got something to say?"
Sunny thought long and hard into herself, avoiding eye contact with everyone who was now focusing on the pair's standoff. Only Thorin did not turn, and Izzy remained respectfully silent, albeit reluctantly. She stuttered, looked to Izzy, then swallowed before speaking.
"Pipp, please understand me when I say that-"
She was interrupted by a great vibration; a loud crash that came from within the mountain itself. They all stood immediately to attention.
"Was tha' an earthquake?" Dori panicked.
"It sounded more like an explosion," Izzy blatantly suggested without care.
"That, my friends," Balin remorsefully turned to them. "...was a dragon."
Oh, my, so Smaug is still inside, Sunny grieved, only to herself. And so is Bilbo.
She immediately galloped right to the entrance, only for Pipp to bar the way with Anvil and spreaded wings.
"Get out of my way," Sunny stated, the fearful wavering evident.
"Now just wait a minute, Sunny," Pipp said.
"I said, get out of my way!"
"You don't know what you're talking about!"
"Bilbo's in trouble! Why don't you see that?!"
Pipp stammered her words, before sizing whatever was left. It was like talking back to herself, which she feared the most.
"All I see, is a pony who does not take time to think about the actions she is going to take, and who does not trust the abilities of her friends, so leave Bilbo alone."
"That's rich coming from the pegasus who has no problem swooning over my childhood friend," Sunny snapped. "What is he to you: a handsome face, or a soft pillow?"
"Sunny...stop it," Pipp mumbled.
"Or better yet, your grand prize! You be-it-end-all moment for your emptiness of a living!"
"Please...stop it."
She was crying, all could see it, even Sunny. Except she was either enjoying the power-trip power stripping of the popstar princess, or was blissfully ignorant of her true feelings to care for her position.
"Just can't stand it when somepony else is on top of you, is it?" Sunny sneered smugly.
"ENOUGH!"
All eyes snapped to where an enraged Izzy firmly stood, huffing out her chest and hissing through her teeth. Bombur stood frozen in shock while Bifur and the other dwarves were worried about this new development. Thorin still remained undisturbed.
Once Izzy regained herself, she sighed as she hung her head down, eyes closed and watering. Then, she opened them, without raising.
"Why must friends fight?" she whimpered. "It hurts."
The dwarves still remained unfixed from their positions, though they listened in to the cracks forming right before them; Thorin especially, and yet he felt his perspective was unnecessary for their pony companions. Pipp did not raise her head to look at anyone, and just slumped down sobbing against the doorway, much to Ori's sadness who sat beside her, humming a lullaby.
Sunny however was looking to Izzy, she was the last mare she wanted to be upset, and over such a misunderstanding.
"Izzy," she chuckled. "What are you talking abou-"
"You're not Sunny Starscout," Izzy cried. "You're not my friend."
Sunny stared dumbfounded. "Do you even understand what you are saying?"
"I am saying that YOU don't understand what you are saying: first you apologize with Pipp and Bilbo, and the next minute you are outright hostile to them; at least to Pipp because she is up here while Bilbo is down there."
"I fully understand that Bilbo is down there," Sunny snapped. "Down there keeping the prize all to himself, while leaving the rest of us to sit and wait for nothing to happen until that damned dragon finds and kills us! WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THAT?!"
The panic was swarming all throughout her body, confused that Izzy of all ponies could not understand and side with her argument. Dwalin stood, arms resting on his standing weapon beside Gloin, who pocketed his little notebook; both were sharing the same look of fear. Nori fiddled with a small silver coin as Dori stood restlessly between his brothers, Ori no longer having the will to continue his soft lullaby.
Izzy slowly backed from Sunny, anger growing to rage on her face, saddened beyond belief and close to sobbing. Bombur gave her the biggest and most comforting hug he could, while Bifur, fear fully in his eyes stood the furthest he could from Sunny but not from Bombur and Izzy.
Sunny whipped around, and still Thorin had not turned his head. Not even Balin dared cross her in this state, for he understood and grieved for her condition.
Then he turned to Thorin. "We've waited to long, Thorin," he said quickly.
"What do you propose to do about it?" Thorin replied with venom in his words.
Balin hesitated in his response. "Well, for one you wanted Bilbo to find the Arkenstone, not slay the dragon himself. And now that we've angered the beast he won't rest until the intruders are destroyed, namely us."
It seemed that every one of the company had suddenly become overrun with the perpetual fear of Smaug the Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities; Sunny and Thorin had their minds on the dragon, but the thought was not of fear.
Pipp was breathing heavily on her own, trying to push out and away the negative thoughts and emotions; she had a hard time unthinking about Sunny's spiteful words. It was only with the soft notes of Ori did the negativity dampen.
"Feeling be'er?" he asked, handing his handkerchief.
Pipp took it and blew her nose clear. "Yeah, yeah I think so."
She then stood to address the others. "What do we do now?"
"We are to wait until the burglar returns," Thorin replied without any thought. "In the meantime, my lady, you are to freshen up and be prepare."
Back in the tunnel, a bright orange glow emerged from the deep end of it, catching the growing fear-ridden attentions of the company.
"Wha' abou' Bilbo?" Ori asked, wide-eyed in terror.
"Give him more time," Thorin bluntly responded.
"Time for what? To be killed?" Balin interjected.
"You're afraid."
Balin paused in his momentum, fear growing in his eyes, but to Thorin.
"Yes, I am afraid," he said. "Afraid for you. A sickness lies upon that treasure hoard, a sickness which drove your grandfather mad."
"I am not my grandfather," Thorin replied immediately.
"You're not yourself. The Thorin I know would not hesitate to go in there-"
"I will not risk this quest for the life of one...burglar."
He said the word "burglar" with stinging venom, which took Balin and the rest by fearful surprise. They had all become fond of Bilbo, and to hear their own leader speak of him in such a condescending tone, and that he has treated their most valued member and friend; it was heartbreaking to their ears, the ponies especially.
"Bilbo," Balin spoke with fearful disgust. "His name is Bilbo."
Whatever Thorin began contemplating following Balin's words, it was put on hold after a yelp came from Pipp. He looked back in time to see the end of her tail disappear into the secret entrance, and Pipp just ready to bolt after her.
"Pipp," he stopped her. "Wait."
"How can I? My friends are down there, with the dragon!" she cried.
Thorin looked away from his knight, his mind swimming with every possible question that the present situation aroused and yet no answer came to. Everyone was fearfully worried, nothing else came to top it.
Weaponless and only wearing her Laketown cloak, Sunny rushed down the tunnel in a blind... it was either a fear or anger, she had not time to think. Bilbo was alone facing the great and evil dragon of Erebor, he was foolish to do so in the first place. It was bad enough that he got himself lost in the Goblin-tunnels, not to mention facing against the spiders and sneaking around on his own in the Woodland Realm.
That Bilbo Baggins is impossible, Sunny thought. I cannot believe that hobbits are such unfathomable, sneaky, stubborn little...
The moment she reached the tunnel's end she stopped dead in her gallop, fully taken in by the splendor of the sight down below: waves upon distant waves of shining gold coins, ingots, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, diamonds, chased goblets, and everything else in between.
It was all beautiful, like out of a dream, but all so real. So...precious.
Sunny took her sweetest time descending the staircase, not once did her gaze shift away from the splendorous sight, it was too glorious to be distracted. The ambience was noticeable however far from her mind to be a concern, for if Smaug was there why was he not immediately apparent? Perhaps he was off in some distant corner sleeping, and Bilbo had run off.
Either way, once her hooves touched the sea of gold, it became the feeling of liking something so grandeur it was hard to let go.
"It's all so beautiful," she murmured to herself.
Her eyes were wide with wonderment. It was such a beautiful sight, the highest point ever of her life life. Thorin had his mind set in the right place to take this place back, and if Bilbo had been more reasonable with his task, then perhaps things would be less hostile between the others outside. And besides, what is there to fear about a dragon if he is not at home?
As if by magic, or pure bad luck, a great shake shook the ocean of gold. It was like the earthquake Dori was anxious about, only except Balin refuted it as...oh, no.
She stood, stiff and paralyzed with fear at the sight towering before her.
A great giant dark-red scaled monster had come stomping around a corner at the sound of another intruder: his size of wingspan was enough to just match the vast cavern, his great big feet stomped to the beat of a drumming earthquake, his claws were larger than enough to crush her entirely, his tail like a long serpent, and his snout great enough to swallow six ponies whole...and the eyes.
He stood, fangs barring down at the little pony, very much confused at its appearance. It was definitely female, though her features were much more similar to that of elves, wizards, dwarves, and...
He put off the thought, for he was now more intrigued for who and what the new intruder was.
Once she made contact with the yellow eyes, she could not find herself to look away, as if a spell casted from them had binded her in their gaze.
Smaug the Terrible strutted over to Sunny Starscout, cocking his head on his long neck, and then he spoke.
"Well," he hissed. "This IS interesting. Today has been quite eventful for me."
His voice was cold, terrible, and filled with malice, but little Sunny was locked into his gaze.
"You are interesting," the dragon continued. "I have seen and eaten many ponies in my lifespan, but none so queer as yourself. Who are you, and why have you come to this place?"
Unfortunately for Sunny, she was horribly uneducated with dragon-lore. Her father and herself had discovered rumors about dragons from the olden days of Equestria, but they were just that: rumors. And should those rumors have been deemed true or plausible, none of them would have compared to the might and malice of Smaug.
"I-I am Sunny Starscout," she stammered, quaking. "And I have come from a faraway land."
Smaug raised an brow while yet again cocking his head. He looked like he was lost in thought for a moment. "You have answered my first question, Sunny Starscout, but you have yet to answer as to what and you are brought here under MY Mountain."
Whatever she was thinking to reply with was dashed in an instant, for the sight of a distant shining gem caught her eye. Smaug saw and recognized the look immediately from his younger days.
"I, was drawn here merely to see if the legends of your treasure hoard were as true as the old tales were told to me, and now I can see that the actual experience rivals the thought."
"I am flattered that you think so highly of my treasure, but you have placed your wants and desires in the wrong place, my dear," Smaug's voice boomed.
Sunny chuckled, almost rhetorically. "Trust me, I have no intention of stealing anything from you."
"No indeed, for that is what your little Thief in the shadows is meant for."
"T-thief? What thief?"
"Don't play riddles with me, my little pony. I know of your Barrel-rider, who sent him down here, who is waiting up top for him to return, what he desires, and is seeking for."
Smaug was stamping his great claws that smashed into the gold as he moved closer to Sunny, who seized herself and ducked down a slope. She slid and tumbled down the gold, hitting her head onto a golden goblet. Right as she regained herself, one of his eyes was fixated right to her level, like it was looking for something or things.
Her heart was pounding fiercely in her chest, as her stagnant breathing was becoming lost.
"What is it you truly desire, because it is clear to me that it is not the gold," he slithered.
"I-I-I," she stuttered. Her meekness was very much amusing to the great dragon, perhaps he could take it to the next level.
"You cannot deny what the heart desires," he hissed. "For example: I myself would like nothing better than to see the great Oakenshield atop his throne, watching his armies be squandered and decimated before him, while letting his most prized possession consume his mind, corrupt his heart, and drive him mad!"
What was he saying? Could the Arkenstone do such a thing? Was it possible?
Smaug had always enjoyed toying his prey with his words, especially to those who were weak-minded. He had heard tales of Glaurung the Great, and his feats against the Children of Hurin, but he never dared mimic such feats, for he had always forged his own.
"Now, your turn, my little pony."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Sunny nervously chuckled. "I have nothing to hide!"
"Oh, I don't think so, my little pony. Tell me, how much do you know of dragons?"
"O-only f-from what I was told."
"Told by your father, or Oakenshield?"
He was gleeful that his words caught something from her, but he held it back. Not just yet, only a little further.
"How-how do you know of my dad?"
"You cannot deny what the heart desires, neither what the mind remembers. The dragons were forged from the darkness, and it is the darkness I love the most, for it is where I can only dwell in peace. Doubtless, your father made it his life's work to discover the ancients of your world, but he was a fool all around to believe that such remnants exist."
"I mean, there are rumors that dragons used to exist in Equestria-"
"Equestria?" Smaug boomed with delight. He had finally cracked something, and he smirked that little Sunny caught his catch. "Of course! I should have seen it right away!"
Sunny became shrewd. "What do YOU know of Equestria?"
"Not so much," the dragon replied. "Only that it is a dying land on its final breaths. The three tribes have been separated for such a long time, but you bringing them back together won't save your home from ripping itself apart once again."
"You know what caused the three pony tribes to separate?"
To her surprise, the great serpent of the north laughed. It was an evil belly-laugh, and it made her quiver.
"It was quite simple: one tribe wanted all the treasures for themselves, as did the others for the very same treasures. They fought each other in a bloodbath for complete possession, the likes of which that hasn't been seen before. Many died, over such a trivial...and unnecessary conflict, but that is the price of having such illustrious treasures."
Smaug had struck the correct nerve in Sunny, and he enjoyed the sight of it. Questioning herself: what is he talking about? Is that true? Is he lying?
"In many ways, I said the same thing to your little burglar," he continued, bursting with boastful pride, "that the quest will fail. But he would not listen, so I had to make him listen."
"Bilbo," Sunny gasped, all thoughts of all things shiny wiped clean. "What have you done to him?"
"Aha!" Smaug hissed. "So that is his name. He was wise to conceal it from me, the clever little thief, which says a lot about you."
Smirking with triumph, he brought his closer and closer to Sunny's muzzle, backing her shaking self right into a nearby pillar.
"What, what, what...do you mean?"
"Only that you are a weak-minded fool; a fool to put your trust in Thorin Oakenshield and your little burglar. You care for him, I can see that, but do you think he cares for you? You are truly mistaken, my little pony," he hissed. "He carries something on him, something that has taken his priorities over yourself and the others, something that is...precious."
She did not like the way his voice slithered at that word. How could Bilbo simply abandon her like that? To just her and the others into the wind for...just, what?
"And what of your little friends, hmm? Don't pretend you came alone, I know the smell and taste of pony full well. What do they truly think of you, if they only knew what you truly think of them. Have you told them your little secret yet?"
Sunny began silently whimpering at his words. Now she was physically unable to break her gaze with the giant yellow eyes.
"No? Well then, perhaps I should let leave, unharmed at that. If only to have them watch you come out, realize what they truly mean to you, as nothing more than merely tools. Which one of them do you desire the most, then?"
Her mind immediately flashed to the very day she met Izzy Moonbow, how her hilarious smile was quick to win her over, that fateful day. How she was quick to accept the others with open hooves, how she was the only one of them who never once lost faith in anything, how...caring she was, no matter what. Her feelings were true, and she was too afraid to even contemplate such thoughts.
"You are quite honestly the most queer pony I have ever met," Smaug cocked his head again. "You have strength, but it does not come from you. What can you possibly offer to your special somepony? Love? It is but a menial gift compared to my vast wealth under the Mountain, and I will not part with a single piece. Not one piece of eight."
The great eyes brightened at his statement, making his little prey quiver in tearing fear all the more by the passing second.
"But, I suppose this has gone on long enough. You are an intruder to MY kingdom, and therefore must be punished as such."
Smaug stepped back, raising his neck right above the fixated but shaking Sunny. He kept his wings close in, for he had no need to stretch out his pride over such a small and insignificant little threat.
He reeled back his neck, letting his belly be filled with the right amount of heat, and not letting his eyes lose concentration of little Sunny, he let loose a wave of flame right from out of his throat. His aim was precise, not letting too much accidentally disfigure even the smallest piece, and he need not worry for the stone of the pillar was built to withstand the strongest disaster.
When he felt satisfied at his work, the flames ceased, but the sight they revealed was not what he intended. In place of a smoked carcass was a shield, unharmed as was its user: yet another female Equestrian pony, pink-feathered instead of furred, with a less-than kept purple mane, and finally she had fine feathered wings attached right to her torso. Behind her was little Sunny, also unharmed from the flames.
"WHO ARE YOU, WHO WOULD DARE COME BETWEEN ME AND MY PREY?!" Smaug roared in fury.
"She is no prey to you, Smaug the Terrible!" Pipp stood, eyes fierce and in equal rage, but at the dragon.
He was taken aback at her words. She was more fierce than the other pony, though her words were even less polite than the little burglar. In all his years he never expected such ferocity from such a fare figure.
"You have such ferocious words, for a pretty maiden," he coyly hissed.
"You have no right to treat my friends in such behavior! Not while their under my protection, Smaug the Tyrannical!" Pipp immediately shot back.
"You use your manners in such a way that is more truthful than your little Thief in the Shadows."
If he had expected his new prey to falter so easily, he was mistaken.
"Truly, you are mistaken to doubt the skills of my friends, Smaug the Ferocious!"
"You have such a confidence that I have not seen since my younger days, my pretty little maiden," Smaug hissed. "But you are unwise to tempt me. You should have left your so-called friend behind, if only to save yourself as well as the others."
"She IS my friend, Smaug the Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities, and I will protect her whatever the cost!"
"I see you have such a stronger will than your 'friend', and if your bond of friendship is true then tell me: what do you know of her little secret?"
Now is was Pipp's turn to cock her head in confusion. "Why, whatever do you mean?"
"I am flattered by the formalities, but they will not prevent your coming demise. But I see that she lacks the courage that you, my pretty little maiden, possess. But, perhaps considering that your 'friend' is unwilling to disclose it for her, then maybe I will do it for her."
Smaug obtained an evil glint in his eye, but Pipp remained undaunted by his being.
"She is embarrassed about something about herself: that she prefers the company of mares to stallions," he hissed with glee.
True at his words this time, as he hoped, Pipp became caught in the implanted thought, while Sunny was beginning to cry.
"She is also self-conscious about she how hurt her special one, how she broke her heart, and drove her away."
Smaug certainly has a way with words, Pipp thought. If only he could use them for bettering his misdeeds. She took in every word he said, although she did not believe an ounce of it.
"This is dragon-talk!" she shouted. "All you talk of is lies!"
"You cannot hide what the heart desires! If you doubt yourself, then why don't you ask?"
"If you pride yourself, Smaug the Malicious, then why don't you return what was stolen? Those dwarves have no home, and have been burdened with the hideous memory for far too long. There's plenty enough gold to go around!"
"So, you admit you have come with the dwarves!" Smaug roared immediately, before backtracking his words. "It IS the gold that has drawn you here, then. It is a gorgeous sight to behold, is it not?"
"You would say that, wouldn't you, Smaug the Great Greedy Guts?"
Smaug roared again in fury. Not only did his new prey have a more stronger mind than either little Sunny or the burglar, but also quite the irritating cheek. And she also had the audacity to dare say that the gold was not his to keep!
"I will no longer tolerate such cheek! And how dare you say that this gold was stolen! THIS IS MY KINGDOM! I AM KING UNDER THE MOUNTAIN!"
His prey still lingered before him, and only the shielded one hindered her gaze from his eyes; very wise of her, perhaps she was not only a pretty maiden after all. But wait...she has not moved, and she is not fearful, so that can only mean...
"Very well, then," he mused. "I have guessed your riddle at last: you are in league with the dwarves of Oakenshield, and they are in league with those fishermen of Laketown. Your burglar was cunning to conceal that bit of information from me, but your friend wears the unmistakable cloak of Laketown. Your riddling burglar was wise to riddle me, but not even he could conceal it either. I will take great pleasure in punishing those miserable lake-tubbing men, oh, yes I will."
Now, finally at last, she was fearful in his presence. All it took as the threat of decimating many innocents, and possibly those she cared for. It was in her eyes, nothing in the eyes of his prey is missed by his own.
"But, I believe this diversion has gone on long enough. You are both trespassing in my domain, disrupting the natural order and balance of this land. I keep the armies at bay, for what is the use of warring for gold when they have none in their possession?"
Pipp back beside Sunny was the great Worm stood himself right up again, and this time there was clear visible intention of not letting up in his firepower.
"So, tell me, my little ponies, what do you feel...about dragon-fire?!"
Pipp had only ample time to react, for the moment she saw his belly glow bright she immediately hoisted Sunny right high above the flames. The vastness of the treasure provided no light, it only came from the dragon-fire, which felt warmer than casual flames, even at great. distant She then maneuvered up past some columns, determined to put some temporary distance ahead of the dragon, only stopping at a top corner of one of the most distant columns.
"Oh, boy," she panted. "Not only does he have a way with words, his fiery temper is enough to match an explosion."
"Pipp..." Sunny whimpered. The moment her eyes lost contact with Smaug's, she would not stop crying tears.
"You're safe now, that's all that matters."
"He-he said, said...some...somethings. Some...dreadful...things!"
"Don't think about what he said. Balin warned me of dragon-talk: it was meant to get into your mind, and drag you down to nothing."
"I...I'm...I'm a fool. An idiot! What was I thinking?!"
"I'll admit, you rushing off in search of Bilbo on your own was a stupid move-"
"No, not that. I mean, it was stupid, but...but he was right."
Pipp was taken aback. "What do you mean? Don't tell me he got to you!"
Sunny responded with more amplified cries, to which Pipp wrapped a comforting wing around her friend.
"YOU CANNOT HIDE FROM ME!" Smaug roared in the distance. "I SMELL YOUR BREATH AND FEEL YOUR AIR!"
"Sunny," Pipp softly pleaded. "I'm your friend, you can trust me. I want to help you."
Sunny continued a period of sniveling sobs, with Pipp waiting patiently, even with the coming threat of old Smaug, until at last she spoke.
"I wasn't thinking about Bilbo when I ran in. I can't explain it, but all I could think of was the treasure. It was so shiny and gorgeous the very moment I looked upon them, but the moment those...eyes...those dreadful eyes...they looked into my very soul."
"You're safe now. I promise I'll get you out of here."
"Pipp...please. Tell Izzy...that I love her."
"You can tell her herself, and that's a promise."
A very tender moment between such good friends was interrupted by the sickening stomps of the Great Serpent of the North. He always had good reasoning to boast, for his hearing was enough to rival even the most adept of elf. Not waiting another heart-beating moment, Pipp spread her wings and hoisted up holding tightly to Sunny's torso. She flew like it was her last standing moment, not looking back, and fixated his pegasus-eyes to the exit.
She was swift, but not swift enough like her sister, for Smaug quickly tracked her wingbeats and found her just two meters away from escaping to safety. Not on his watch should such insolate intruders to escape with such ease. His stomach lighted, and he breathed more of his dreaded dragon-fire a great distance to them; not enough to envelop, but enough catch and swiftly envelop only her tender right-side wing!
The dwarves and Izzy waited anxiously for their return, as well as Bilbo's should he have found the Arkenstone; Thorin getting evermore antsy for there arrival. So, imagine to their surprise and horror when Sunny and Pipp came corkscrewing right into their cave; Sunny unharmed physically, but Pipp's wing burning bright!
"By my beard!" Dwalin cried in shock.
"Put it out, you fools! Quickly!" Thorin ordered.
Sunny remained shriveled up and quivering in guilted fear in the corner, while the others panicked, desperately trying to keep orderly. Izzy rushed forward, dampening the flames, despite how scorching they were, until Bifur quickly pulled her back to safety; and all the while Pipp was clenching her teeth, and writhing in pain.
Right as Ori rushed out of the secret entrance end of the tunnel, Bombur hastily took out and began hastily undoing the cap of his canteen.
"No! Bombur, not that-!" Balin cried.
Too late; Bombur held the canteen right over the dragon-flames while a sizable amount of water poured and sizzled the burning injury. Instead of dousing, while it did, the plain water did indeed sizzle poor Pipp's wing like a roast mutton.
"AAAHH!" she cried in pain.
Luckily, Pipp's cry made Bombur jump enough to drop his canteen, right as Ori returned holding the Laketown cloak Pipp left behind. He wasted no time beating it against the flames, and despite her writhing and painful yelps, the flames were finally beaten back.
However, when Ori slowly removed the cloak from the beaten flames, it revealed a horrid and sickening sight to all: instead of prim and properly fabulously pink feathers for flight, all that was left from the dragon-fire of Smaug was a charred and blackened roasted wing, right down dangerously exposing burnt muscles and bones. Luckily, Ori was in time to halt the flames from spreading any further, even though it did not help matters.
"How bad is it?" Thorin asked.
"Very," Ori fearfully replied.
"Out of the way, Ori," Gloin hastily said. "Hold her up and steady."
Ori immediately obeyed.
"No, her whole body."
He nodded before correcting himself.
"Is she dying?" Sunny bawled. "What have I done?!"
"She's not dying while I'm around." Gloin hastily took out a fresh soft padding and roller gauze. "Thank Durin that my brother always insists I carry provisions such as these wherever I go. Lift the cloak, be careful not to drop dirt on the injured area."
Ori carefully lifted away the cloak, exposing the injury to the stinging elements. Pipp winced again, this time a little loudly.
"I'm sorry, my dear. This is for your own good."
Keeping one hand on the soft padding, he used his free hand to take out an unused handkerchief and stuffed it firmly into Pipp's mouth. Though it was without consent, she was grateful. Once that was finished, Gloin wasted no time in wrapping the gauze over the charred wing, up and around her torso, but under her unharmed wing, before coming up from her underbelly.
"How much longer will it take?" Thorin asked.
"I'm going to need another gauze," Gloin replied. "Izzy, can your magic reach into my pocket? It's the one where I just took out the other gauze."
"You mean this thing?" Izzy asked, holding the gauze beside him with her unicorn magic.
"Yes, that's it. Thank you."
It was just the right amount of the gauze to finished the binding, complete with a small pin. Once finished, Ori held her tender while fastening the cloak over her casted injury.
"Are you alrigh'?" he asked.
She quietly nodded.
While all of this was occurring, Sunny was bawling her eyes out. Thorin looked on her scene with great pity, his face of mind shared with the others, say for Pipp who was still in shock. It was a saddening sight, there was no doubt about it.
Izzy was the most sad for her friend. The sickness had washed over her, she could see it, and now she needed a friend more than ever. She strutted over to Sunny, who did not felt neither saw her presence. She did, once Izzy wrapped a hoof, to which Sunny responded with a great hug.
"What have I done?!" she cried.
Izzy could not muster the words to say anything. Instead, she muzzled Sunny for comfort, though the tears were slow to dry. Poor Sunny could only hold three seconds in her gaze with Izzy's eyes, before she cried into her neck.
"You don't deserve me," she whimpered.
"You're my friend. My best friend, Sunny," Izzy softly comforted, stroking her mane with great care. "I would give anything to deserve you."
Izzy then smiled and lightly chuckled. Once again, Sunny was left in the dark about Izzy's true feelings for her. It stung, but at least she was safe.
Pipp silently mumbled somthing, catching Ori's attention.
"Did you say something?" he asked, helping her to stand, before removing Gloin's now saliva caked handkerchief.
"My Lady, are you well now?" Thorin asked.
"Yes, yes I am," Pipp replied, noddig her head in respect. She then looked to the general area of her injury. "Will it fully heal?"
"I cannot say, for none among us are gifted with elven magic."
Thorin's voice was becoming rife with spitting venom, especially at the mention of elves, though he still took great care for his knight's well-being.
Pipp, however, looked about the company, wide-eyed in realized terror. "Where's Bilbo?!"
"Again 'e's not 'ere?" Dori gasped.
"If he's not here," Dwalin surmised. "Then he can only be..."
He stopped his words, for right as he did so Thorin rushed out of the cave, leaving the others behind. Pipp looked at the very spot from whence he dashed, panic-stricken. Making sure Anvil was strapped rightly, she began leaving behind Thorin.
"What do you think you are doing?" Balin stopped her.
Without turning, she replied: "I'm going to help them."
"You're going back in there?!" Sunny gasped. "After what happened to you?!"
"'Tis but a scratch."
"A scratch?! Your wing's burned off!"
"It doesn't matter. We must help them!"
"You don't understand! We...I, cannot go back in there! Not while the dragon is still present and accounted for."
The silence was unnerving, but Pipp could not be dissuaded. Anvil could sense that it's mistress was in distress, but herself and neither for herself. What could she do? She knew exactly, there was no way Anvil could doubt that.
"They are our friends, and friends help each other. Through thick and thin."
The dwarves were stubborn enough to put aside their fears for the dragon, and Izzy promised to keep beside Sunny all the way. It was enough to convince to begrudgingly accept, however the dreaded eyes could linger about in her mind however they pleased, making her feel more dreading about the whole adventure by the minute.
Suddenly, the great stomps of the dragon came evermore closer, and without warning Pipp lead the charge of the company out from the secret passage, followed by the strongest of the dwarves, Izzy beside Bombur, and Sunny behind Izzy.
Though the ponies were more than glad to be reunited with Bilbo and Thorin, it had to be when Smaug was staring them all down in absolute fury. A fury he had not known since his younger days.
"YOU WILL BURN!" he roared.
Right as he roared, he began bellowing fire right in their direction. The company quickly ran down the staircase, before hopping and sliding down a hillside of the treasure, with Balin leading them down another tunnel.
"Come on, Bilbo!" Dori shouted.
Right as Sunny followed Dori into the tunnel, Smaug began breathing his fire in any direction it so desired to creep behind. Once Sunny reached the end part, the opening revealed a dusted and untouched small dining room, before Thorin came barreling in with his coat on fire. He immediately threw it off and doused it on the ground.
"Come on," he ordered, before leading them away and down a passage.
Sunny stood frozen a moment, fixated on the charred coat. She could not stop reminiscing about the dreadful moments of the dragon-fire encapsulating Pipp's wing.
"Sunny, we got to go!" Bilbo called, breaking her trance, especially at the distant roaring of old Smaug.
Who knows how long they were running down and through the passages of Erebor, for none of them had the patience to keep time, and none dared say anything, lest the dragon was drawn to their presence. Thorin kept their lead, and they all followed behind in his tracks, trusting beyond hope that his sense of direction had not failed these past decades.
Once they reached the end of their tunnel, Thorin held his hand signal all stop.
"Shh, shh," he whispered.
"Quiet," Dori hissed.
The tunnel end opened to a long stone-made bridge over an echoing and deepening chasm that shown below to the very depths of Erebor. Thorin looked all around and everywhere he could, but he could not find and motion within sight or earshot of Smaug.
"We've given him the slip," Dori whispered again.
"No, he's too cunning for that," Dwalin mused
"Then, where is he?" Sunny whimpered.
"Perhaps he's bathing in his own fire," Izzy innocently shrugged.
"So, where to now?" Bilbo asked to Thorin
"The western guardroom," he replied. "There may be a way out."
"It's too high. There's no chance that way," Balin rebuffed.
"It's our only chance. We have to try."
"I'm with Thorin," Pipp voiced, to which he smiled.
He then led them on a tip-toeing path down the bridge, with the ponies taking the most quiet steps of their lifetimes. The cavern was filled and decorated with buildings of all shapes and sizes carved into and left behind in the walls, as well as many a bridge and viaduct. All was quiet, eerily so. Not one of them had there eyes in one place, the dragon was as cunning as his boasting; a formidable foe to all of them.
Suddenly, a small coin dropped from overhead right at Bilbo's feet. The others turned to him, who frantically checks if any other coins were stuck in his coat folds. Then another fell from above, and all went silent again. The great underbelly was passing slowly and methodically right above them, glittering with the coins and gems that stuck to him after years of sleeping onto them. Sunny strained a glance at Smaug, until Pipp darted her gaze from him entirely.
She then noticed something out of place, if only for a glance: there was a small hollow patch on the left breast, where a single scale was missing.
They stood aching still, and once Smaug was sure beyond there position, Thorin motioned to the others to continue. There was no sign of the dragon the rest of the way, and as Pipp checked, he was also well out of earshot. Hopes were high among them as Thorin led them past the bridge and down a hallway.
"Stay close," he called to them.
Once he did, they had reached the western guardroom, however to mood immediately turned from hopeful to terribly shocked. The ponies and Bilbo were most taken aback in shock, while the dwarves were filled with sadness. It was indeed the western guardroom, except it had been caved in with large immovable stones, and filled to every end in charred and cobwebbed corpses of the ancient dwarves of Erebor; or the ones that were left behind, that is.
"Oh, my goodness," Pipp gaped.
"It's a horrible sight," Sunny whimpered.
"That's it, then," Dwalin sighed in defeat once again. "There's no way out."
"What a way to go," Pipp choked. "I'm so sorry, Thorin."
"You need not be," he mumbled in mourning. Everyone shared his mindset, even the ponies, who despite not being informal with the kingdom in its heyday, that slight little tour at their journey's beginning gave them the right idea to understand the grief their dwarf companions were experiencing. For Sunny, it was like the very day she found of her father's passing; she desperately did not want to again remember that day.
"The last of our kin," Balin spoke up. "They must have come here, hoping beyond hope. We could try to reach the Mines. We might last a few days."
"What will be there to find?" Pipp spoke up, very skeptical. "Most likely nothing but nasty, dirty, wet holes full of worms and oozy smells, and nothing to either eat nor drink."
"No," Thorin firmly said. "I will not die like this. Cowering, clawing for breath."
"What do we do, then?"
"We make for the forges."
"He'll see us, sure as death," Dwalin butted in.
"Not if we split up."
Neither Sunny nor Bilbo liked the idea, and neither did Balin.
"Thorin," he said, concerning. "We'll never make it."
"Some of us might. Lead him to the forges. We kill the dragon. If this is to end in fire, then we will all burn together."
"So," Bilbo squeaked. "Who goes with who?"
"I'll go with Bifur," Gloin said. "And Izzy can come with us, if she wishes."
"Sure thing!" she jumped, making Sunny feel more sick in the stomach by the moment.
"I'll go with Dori," Ori said.
"And I'll go with Ori," Bombur added.
"Nori, you're coming with me," Dwalin, with no objections.
"I suppose I will as well, if only to make things even," Pipp added.
Balin and Bilbo of course were to go with Thorin, and seeing no other possible way, so was Sunny.
"Good luck," she said. "All of you."
Once each group split off in their direction, Thorin's group ran right back over the main bridge, right as Smaug emerged from hiding behind some distant rocks, booming his voice all throughout the cavern.
"Flee, flee! Run for your lives! There is nowhere to hide."
They all froze in his presence, Sunny trying her best to look away from his gaze, and Thorin holding his sword (not Orchrist) in defense.
"Behind you!" Dori yelled.
Smaug turned his neck away to see Dori's group on a distant bridge looking up towards him, giving Thorin's group ample time to escape across and down the passage.
"Come on!" Dori yelled again as Smaug lunged right towards them.
"Hey you! Here!" Dwalin cried out.
Smaug then turned up to see Dwalin's group right across.
"Not so skilled at catching mice, aren't you?" Pipp mocked.
Smaug then jumped right them, right as they escaped down the nearest tunnel.
Gloin's group soon caught his attention as they were running across yet another distant bridge. Smaug roared in fury as he leapt onto the bridge as they disappeared into the mining tunnels, to which he then burst forth his fire to follow them. Gloin, Bifur, and Izzy kept just ahead of the flames, though that did not stop the ground beneath them from glowing in rapid growing heat.
"Hot, hot, hot, hot!" Izzy cried.
"Come on! Just ahead!" Gloin cried as well.
What was just ahead were troughs that were used for loading stone into large sturdy buckets hanging to an overhead conveyer belt system. Gloin tumbled into his, while Bifur and Izzy slid without fuss into theirs. It would be a long time before they reunited with the others.
Thorin's group meanwhile were running along down a widened hallway, with Thorin dead in the lead, Bilbo on his heels, and Sunny right behind Balin. Suddenly, Balin ducked into the nearest tunnel.
"This way! It's this way! Come on!" he shouted.
Without stopping Sunny immediately ducked into the tunnel right past the old dwarf.
"Thorin!" she heard Bilbo call.
Suddenly, right at that moment a loud stomping followed by snarling was heard at the very end of the hallway, and the sounds made Sunny's fur stand right on end.
"Follow Balin!" Thorin called to Bilbo.
"Thorin!"
"Bilbo, let's go!" Sunny cried from inside the tunnel.
Balin had just enough time to drag Bilbo into the tunnel right as Smaug's fire erupted right past them.
"THORIN!" Sunny screamed.
"He'll be alright! Come on, follow me!" Balin cried.
Dwalin's group were running right behind Smaug, led only by the guidance of Pipp's adept sense of hearing, they were in time to see Thorin duck down a mining pit with Smaug close behind him.
"Oh, crap!" Pipp shouted.
"Seriously?" Nori responded.
"What?"
"Oh, never mind it."
They ran like there was no tomorrow, because there might have been, Pipp right at the lead with Dwalin just behind her. She skidded to a halt right at the edge of the pit and looked down in horror to see Smaug chasing after a descending Thorin.
"Thorin!" Dwalin cried.
"Hit the winch!" she cried as well.
With one swift blow from Dwalin's ax, the mechanized pulley system abruptly halted, right before a descending bucket began sending Thorin right back up and passed Smaug's neck. Pipp could only helplessly watch as the dragon firmly gripped onto the end of the chain, halting Thorin's escape right in its tracks. To her horror, Smaug then began to drag the chain and the pulley mechanism seamlessly from its hold, breaking it with ease as Thorin simply dropped right onto the tip of the dragon's muzzle. Smaug then opened his jaws wide, and the dreaded glow began to manifest into rising heat.
"Thorin, no!" she cried.
Right at that moment, Thorin quickly jumps to a nearby hanging chair attached to yet another chain winch and mechanical pulley. Smaug snapped his jaws shut right as the first pulley came crashing right onto his face.
Acting fast, Nori came up from behind and stroke the machine with his shovel, and the fast spinning gears hastily hoisted Thorin up to safety right as another wall of flames erupted from where Smaug struggled to clamber back up from.
Pipp was quick to catch his grip. "Hold on, Thorin," she said. "I got you!"
"Thanks," he replied. "Now, go! Go!"
Nori and Pipp did not waste any time whatsoever in escaping from the dragon in Thorin's stead, and they did not stop until they reached a gargantuan room blocked off by an almost mountain-size barred gate. The gaps were just large enough to fit anyone as lean as a dwarf or pony. Inside however, were three giant-sized furnaces, each standing above their own fuel sources, and just behind them were equally huge dwarven-warrior statues standing beside humongous waterwheels; they had laid dormant for decades, as the gold ores were still waiting to be melted from the furnace heat.
"Pipp!" Sunny cried.
"We need to hurry!" Pipp gasped in reply. "He's right behind us!"
"The plan's not going to work. These furnaces are stone cold," Dwalin fumed.
"He's right," Balin added. "There's no fire hot enough to set them ablaze."
"You know, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but..." Pipp shrugged in a teasing manner, right as the sounds of the clambering dragon were heard before being seen as he hoisted his body right from the depths of the pit.
"You've got the idea," Thorin smirked, before he rushed to the edge of the bars and began calling to Smaug. "I did not look to see so easily outwitted!"
Smaug raised his head, greatly enraged at the taunting.
"Look at that!" Pipp added. "The Greatest Dragon of all Time: defeated by a pack of camping dwarves, there little burglar, and their baggage ponies!"
"Don't encourage him, Pipp," Sunny cautioned.
"I don't know," she continued, undaunted. "I just figured that the Fiery Serpent of the North would have much more dexterity to match a king, rather than a jester!"
"You've grown slow and fat in your dotage," Thorin spat literal venom in his words, as Smaug looked to his adversaries with glowing fury. The inconceivable audacity!
"Slug."
Alright, is that how you want to play? Fire with fire?! Smaug snarled as he advanced quickly to their position, his belly glowing hot yellow and orange.
Thorin quickly turned to the others. "Take cover," he said. "Go!"
The others did not object to the notion, nor dared think of something better in mind. They all at once ran to each their own barred pillar, just wide enough for the ponies on hindlegs, right as Smaug's fire erupted around them. It did not touch either to cause considerable harm, but all the while until it stopped the heat was immeasurable.
"IT'S TOO HOT!" Sunny screamed.
Their efforts were not without waste, for right as the flames of Smaug died, the flames of the dwarven furnaces erupted up in their very own glowing lights of orange, yellow, and a hint of blue. Smaug stood back in angry confusion, if only for a moment, before he began pounding his head against the metal gates. The company immediately moved from the gates from just the simple lighting glows.
"That metal's strong, but it's not going to hold for long," Pipp worried.
"You're right," Thorin said. "Bombur! Get those bellows going. Go!"
"Alright," Bombur replied. He rushed himself right to the nearest furnace, and grabbing onto the chain, his immense weight pulled him down to the very tip of the bellow; pushing it down before it bounced him back up, bellowing bright blue flames with each blow.
Smaug then battered again, further warping the latticework inward.
"Bilbo!" Thorin called to the hobbit. "On my mark, up there, pull that lever! Sunny, go with him!"
On his words, Sunny and Bilbo rushed away from the heating furnaces and angry dragon, hastily climbing a flight of stairs which led to a curved wooden lever sticking out at a ledge right above all else in the chamber.
"Pipp, stay with me. Balin, can you still mix a flash-flame?"
"Aye, it'll only take a jiffy. Come on!" Balin called to the remaining dwarves, while Dwalin looked to see the metal framework near ready to give way.
"We don't have a jiffy."
One last charge was all Smaug needed to fully rip through and cast down the framework with a great bellowing crash.
"Oh, if only I had my phone with me," Pipp nervously mumbled. "I could give quite the blinding lightshow to his eyes."
Balin and the others were in a nearby storage room grabbing, pouring, and mixing various powered elements into bowls, vials, and then bowls and vials again.
"Where's the sulfur?" he asked at one point.
"Are you sure you know what your doing?" Dori asked in response.
Ignoring him, Balin and the others continued their chemical mixing.
Smaug meanwhile had spotted little Bilbo and Sunny at the lever platform just in the distance. Sunny took the greatest strength that was left in her to look past and away from his dreadful eyes, though it did not stop the great dragon from walking in great strides right over to them.
Then he stopped, for he noticed Thorin and Pipp off to the side, staring up at him. To them he snarled in rage, glowing up his belly once again.
"Now!" Thorin called.
Bilbo was quick to act: leaping to grab the lever, it took his entire weight to pull it down. And, right as Smaug lunged for the two nearest and below him, his belly glowing right up to inside his throat, great jets of water spewed from the empty holes above-they were modeled into the mouths of the stone warriors-crashing onto the dragon, painfully dousing his gathered flames. The force was strong enough to knock the giant lizard off his balance and onto the base of the nearest furnace, to which he responded by furiously flapping himself up and away from the scene. The ponies thought the scene was hilarious, even while the rushing waters slowed themselves to reactivating the great waterwheels of old.
The waterwheels in turn activated the many old mechanisms, one of which being the overhead conveyer belt that hung above carting the large buckets of stone.
"What's happening?" Izzy asked obliviously.
"The waterwheels have been reactivated," Gloin replied, albeit ominously. "We're heading right into the furnace room."
Bombur meanwhile continued to press at the bellows burning the fire blue, while Pipp and Thorin stood still in amazement.
"Whatever your planning, Thorin," Pipp said, very unsure. "I don't know if it'll work."
"It will work. It must," Thorin replied, firmly.
In the distance where he fell, the great Smaug emerged himself from behind a furnace, the rage that festered for the dwarves of Erebor put on full display; not only for them, but also the Equestrian ponies. Pipp stood beside Thorin, frozen in fear, for the eyes had caught her gaze as they slowly but swiftly began crawling right towards the pair. The spell was quickly broken, when Balin and the others began heaving and throwing bottles of flash-flames right to the dragon's head, but he remained undaunted.
Suddenly, from overhead, Gloin heaved his ax to slice the conveyer of buckets right below his own, sending them to crash right onto old Smaug with a crash and a smash as he fell again, while Izzy noticed something else below them.
"Is that melted gold?" she asked.
"Aye," Gloin replied, his eyes wide with realization.
Smaug meanwhile was burning with mounting rage, ever waiting until the proper amount of flames were cooked inside him. The other dwarves were now reunited with Thorin, while Bilbo and Sunny were up above, the latter growing unsure of their position.
"Now what?" Pipp cried.
"Quickly, while he's distracted, pull that chain!" Thorin responded.
Not thinking twice on his words, she grabbed and heaved on the heavy chain, which opened the small trapdoors from the furnaces, and out poured their own little rivers of melted gold, which all poured into troughs that ran past and under the great Smaug, still thrashing about. Without warning, his great neck swung up and severed the conveyer holding Gloin, Bifur, and Izzy.
"HOLD ON!" Gloin screamed.
Bifur did just that, holding Izzy tightly in safety as their buckets fell a great height and crashed to the ground. Miraculously, their buckets landed right past the dragon, sideways and up, which left its occupants unharmed.
"That was lucky!" Izzy exclaimed, regaining herself.
"Izzy! Everyone! Come on!" Pipp shouted.
Immediately they all began running off and away, with Thorin in the lead as Pipp closely followed his suit.
"Lead him to the Gallery of the Kings!" he called to them.
Up above, while Smaug was still thrashing about one of the buckets came loose and went flying up to where Bilbo and Sunny still remained.
"Bilbo, duck!" she cried, right as it missed them greatly, but not without clipping a huge chunk of the wall.
Pipp kept close to Thorin as he began running and weaving under and past Smaug's still thrashing limbs. He kept close to the running golden river in the trough, just barely missing when the tail swung out and smashed against the base of the mound below Bilbo and Sunny. Thorin then threw the wheelbarrow into the trough of running gold, before hopping into it like a makeshift rowboat; Pipp also leapt into it, clinging for dear life to Thorin's back, letting the current guide their final destination.
Eventually, all troughs converged on a single point that led right under the mound between the waterwheels, right as it finally collapsed, sending Bilbo and Sunny into a unharmed tumble of a landing. Right then, Smaug became aware of their position, locking eyes with the both of them once again.
"Keep going, Bilbo! Run!" Thorin shouted from inside the trough tunnel.
"Get out of there, Sunny!" Pipp also shouted.
The trough finally led them out of the tunnel, right to an end where the molten gold dropped down below. Still clinging hard to Thorin, Pipp swallowed hard as he leapt high from the wheelbarrow and grabbed greatly to the closest chain. She then watched in bewilderment as the molten gold dropped down through a hole and into a giant mold of stone.
Bilbo and Sunny ran for their dearest lives like they had not before, right to the very edge of the furnace room before sliding down a steep slope, as Smaug jumped up and crashed through even more structures that crumbled like they were mere sand castles. Sunny ran with eyes stinging, not daring to look back lest the great eyes were waiting to spellbind her once again. She opened to laugh once she felt like the dragon was a good distance behind them, right as she and Bilbo entered into the largest hall yet, with dust-filled tapestries.
Suddenly, Smaug came crashing in from above. The stones missed their heads, but that did not count for the banners that were dragged down from their holders, covering the both of them.
Then, Smaug spoke once again, roaring in unbridled fury:
"YOU THINK YOU COULD DECIEVE ME, BILBO THE BARREL-RIDER?!"
Bilbo froze underneath the cloth, while Sunny cowered, not daring to even look at the hobbit.
"YOU SHOULD COUNT YOUR FRIENDS MORE CAREFULLY! THE ORANGE PONY TOLD ME EVERYTHING I NEEDED TO KNOW!"
He then stopped yelling at the top of his lungs, before he spoke again, this time to himself.
"You have come from Laketown. There is-is some sort of scheme hatched between these filthy dwarves and those miserable cup-trading Lakemen. Those sniveling cowards with their longbows and black arrows!"
Not only did he sound angry but also...fearful? The black arrows, of course!
"Perhaps it is time to pay them a visit!"
"Oh, no!" Bilbo gasped. They are still down there! Zipp, Hitch, Fili, Kili, Oin, and Bofur! Not to mention Bard, his family, and all those other innocents!
Mustering whatever courage as left of his Tookish side, Bilbo emerged to make his final stand.
"This isn't their fault! Wait!" he shouted. "You cannot go to Laketown!"
Sunny quickly ran behind Bilbo for cover, while Smaug stopped in his tracks and turned down to face the little burglar once again.
"You care about them, do you?" he hissed. "Good. Then you can watch them die! And then you can sit back and wallow helplessly as I ravage the distant lands of those miserable ponies! Mark my words, you shall all pay dearly for this intrusion!"
No, he would not! Yes he would! Not Equestria!
"HERE! YOU WITLESS WORM!"
Smaug turned to see Thorin and Pipp standing atop the stone structure at eh hall's end, brave and firm.
"YOUR TYRANNY ENDS TONIGHT!"
"YOU!" Smaug hissed in anger.
"I am taking back what you stole," Thorin remained, undaunted.
The dragon began stalking his slow way towards them, letting his anger and rage boil ever so slowly, if only to make their demise all the more painful.
"You would take nothing from me, Dwarf! I laid low your warriors of old. I instilled terror in the hearts of men. I am King under the Mountain!"
"The king shall come unto his own!" Pipp hissed in response.
"This is not your kingdom," Thorin added. "These are dwarf lands, this is dwarf gold, and we will have our revenge!"
Smaug growled, Thorin yelled something in Khuzdul while pulling the rope in is hands, and the dwarves and Izzy who were hiding behind the stone mold followed his word and tore down the chains while the ancient braces around the stone all gave way. Pipp held dearly again to Thorin, all the while Smaug stood back in confusion, and finally the stone revealed what was hidden: a dwarvish warrior, a brand new statue for the hall, and made in shining gold fresh from the furnaces. It worked; Smaug was completely transfixed with its splendid sight, the greed in his eyes distracting from the others who stood back in awe.
Suddenly, on of its eyes warps, then its entire head, and finally the entire body gives way under itself as it pours over and out. Smaug, who was slow to move, was completely covered in the molten gold, sending to him crash down onto the ground, thrashing and roaring in rage while the molten gold fully encapsulates him. It all stopped, once the gold covered the entire ground level of the hall, and Smaug along with it.
Pipp smiled a great one that she had never before. "It's over!" she exclaimed. "We've done it!"
Suddenly, the great dragon leaps from the pool of gold, roaring and raging while he himself is caked in molten gold.
"AHHH!" he roared. "REVENGE?! REVENGE! I'LL SHOW YOU REVENGE!"
Thorin dropped to the ground, and Pipp behind him, full of fearful shock. She could not say anything, and neither of the other dwarves or ponies could. Bilbo and Sunny watched as Smaug crashed through the main gate of the Mountain, before soaring up and spinning about letting the gold shimmer away in clouds of glitter. Then, he immediately turned his direction and sights to the distant Laketown.
"I am fire!" he roared into the night. "I am...DEATH!"
The two friends watched in horror as the great serpent soared up and away from the sanctity of Erebor, down and above casting his larger than life shadow over the fear-stricken town of men, and their friends.
"What have we done?" Bilbo gasped.
"What can we do?" Sunny gasped.
"I'm sorry; nothing."
The Hobbit: Third-Age Generation
Chapter Five: Over Hill and Under Hill
Chapter Five: Over Hill and Under Hill
As Thorin said, the company roused and readied before setting off through the Hidden Valley from whence they arrived from. Sunny had to be woken from an early nap, and just caught up after returning to retrieve Dagmor.
It was Pipp, who was at the very rear, who could see a growing shadow over her friend.
"Hey, are you alright?" she asked.
"I'm not so sure anymore."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean...what if-if this quest is not going to end well for us? What if we can't get back home?"
Pipp hesitated at her response, knowing Sunny was putting herself under way too much strain, and so early on in the quest.
"You know what I do whenever I feel strained out of my mind?"
"What?" Sunny looked with great uncertainty.
"I hum to myself while thinking of the more pleasant things about life. The sunshine in the clear sky, the warmth of the fireplace during the winter season, the smooth grass under my hooves, and occasionally a light breeze through my feathers. Now you try."
Sunny found a tune of an old rhyme her dad used to sing, and while at first her remembering him felt joyous, it was short-lived as it became another moment of familiar sadness,
"I'm having trouble doing that," she sniffed.
Pipp then set a wing around her. "You don't have to worry. We're here for you."
"I wish for home and I know I must go forward."
Bilbo heard her sorrows, and turned back to see Rivendell, like it might have been the final moment in his life where he felt well and truly at home.
"Master Baggins," Thorin called. "I suggest you keep up."
"Come on Bilbo," Hitch called, though more friendly than Thorin.
And so, the company departed from their rest-up in Rivendell before continuing along their quest, taking them across vast plains upon fields, bypassing entire regions of forests, and up and across hilltops until the the sight loomed in the great distance.
"Is that it?" Hitch asked. "Have we made it already?"
"No laddie," Balin replied. "The Lonely Mountain lies farther east. We are about to cross through the pass of the Misty Mountains."
Hitch's mind became filled once again with the song of woe that the dwarves sung back in Bag End, looking up towards where the mist all gathered, constantly obscuring the tree infested view of the mountaintops.
After some time traversing up the mountainside, the company was hiking on a stretch overlooking a deep valley, and to make matters worse, they encountered a thunderstorm that rocked the entire range. At one point, Bilbo slipped on a rock, but Hitch grabbed him in time.
"I got you Bilbo!" he cried over the storm.
"WE MUST FIND SHELTER!" Thorin called from the front.
"LOOK OUT!" Dwalin cried.
"INCOMING!" Zipp cried as well.
The company looked and ducked in time for a flying boulder to come crashing and smashing against the mountainside right above them, sending the remaining rocks to tumble down missing their very heads.
"This is no thunderstorm!" Balin cried in alarm. "It's a thunder-battle! LOOK!"
He pointed to a literal titan of a figure rising from the rocks of a nearby mountain right across the valley, emerging and tightly gripping the excess boulder, while the company looked on in fearful amazement.
"What is it?!" Sunny cried.
"Well, bless me!" Bofur exclaimed. "The legends are true! GIANTS! STONE-GIANTS!"
No sooner had Bofur cried in amazement that the stone-giant in question hurled its boulder across the way right into another stone-giant that got hit back into the mountain rock.
"TAKE COVER, YOU FOOLS!" Thorin cried again.
Too late, the mountain pass they were traversing over began to shift and crumble right under them.
"What's happening?!" Sunny cried.
"We're standing on a stone-giant itself!" Dori responded.
"HOLD ON!" Dwalin shouted.
The rocks cracked, the rubble crumbled, and each half of the company was being risen on each leg of the stone-giant; Bilbo and Hitch stuck to Dwalin, Izzy with Bombur, and Zipp, Pipp, and Sunny with Thorin; Fili and Kili were the only ones separated. Unfortunately, another stone-giant head-smacked against the one that unknowingly had the company at tis mercy, sending sprawling back, and Thorin's group to a close enough to leap to a more stable landing.
The other half had more bad luck to endure, as the other stone-giants came crashing over in a gang-up, one clotted the first upside the chin, as the other hurled a boulder right to its head, instantly decapitating it and sending the head to crash right above Thorin's group. The others held firm while their stone-giant fell backwards in its final moments, its knee crashing into mountainside before falling deep into the valley.
"HITCH! IZZY!" Sunny cried.
"KILI!" Thorin cried.
In desperate hope they rushed around the bend to see them all sprawled across the stone path, alive but all unharmed. Sunny rushed forward and immediately embraced both her friends.
"Where's Bilbo?" Bofur anxiously spoke up. "Where's the hobbit?"
"Bilbo?" Zipp cried out.
Bilbo had slipped a great deal, and was now dangerously dangling right over the valley. Once the company recognized his danger, his hands had slipped to a lower rock.
"Bilbo! Grab my hoof!" Hitch called.
"Grab my hand!" Ori called as well.
Thorin then slipped over the side and hoisted Bilbo to safety, only for himself to be in Bilbo's very predicament. Immediately, Zipp gripped his hand, and furiously flapping her wings along with Dwalin's added strength, hoisted Thorin back to solid stone.
"You alright, Thorin?" Zipp asked concerningly.
"Never better," he replied. Though he was grateful to the pegasus, his mind was occupied to another member of the company.
"I thought we lost our burglar," Dwalin said.
"He's been lost ever since home," Thorin angrily stated, glaring at Bilbo. "He should never have come. He has no place amongst us."
Thorin turned away and followed his nephews into the cave they found, leaving Bilbo feeling more worse about himself, and Hitch worrying the most for him.
The company then all moved inside, soaking from the rain and some still shaking from the ordeal outside. Zipp followed Dwalin's torchlight as they searched the very rear.
"It looks safe so far!" she called back to Thorin.
"Keep searching," he responded. "Caves in the mountains are seldom unoccupied."
"There's nothing here," Dwalin said.
The company was only so far put at ease, Sunny the least of all. Izzy was off in a corner putting together a small wooden trebuchet with Bifur, and Pipp was unsure about how to approach Sunny's troubled state of mind. Bilbo remained indifferent and to himself.
"Right then," Gloin prepared, taking out scraps of wood. "Let's get a fire started."
"No, no fires," Thorin stopped. "Not in this place. Get some sleep. We start at first light."
"We were to wait in the mountains until Gandalf joined us," Balin said. "That was the plan."
"Plans change. Hitch, take the first watch."
"Alright uh, on it...Thorin," Hitch stammered, still worrying about Bilbo. "I may need to."
Later into the night, when Bilbo figured everyone else was sleeping, he slipped on his pack, picked up his walking stick and made his quiet way past the snoring company. He stopped, only for a moment, to look at where the ponies were all sleeping: the pegasi sisters were snug in their hooves, Izzy slept on Bombur's stomach like it was a pillow, with his arm comfortably around her neck, and Sunny off in her own distant corner.
Bilbo thought back to when he first met the ponies, and how they were all kind and friendly to him, regardless of the dwarves' nature. He would miss them.
As he made for the mouth of the cave, Hitch stopped him.
"Where do you think you're going?" Hitch whispered.
"Back to Rivendell," Bilbo replied, with slight hesitation in his voice.
"No, no, you can't turn back now, not after we've come so far. You're a part of the company. As are we."
"I'm not though, am I? Thorin said I should never have come and he was right. I'm not a Took, I'm a Baggins."
Bilbo sighed greatly with regret. "I don't know what I was thinking. I should never have run out my door."
Hitch could see the shadow of confusion was filled within his friend. "You know, this isn't the first adventure I've been on."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Back in our world, Equestria, the three pony tribes have long been separated, fueled only by anger and unruly hate for each race. But Sunny held strong to herself, despite so much backlash. One day, Izzy happened to wander into town and Sunny ran off with her, with myself in pursuit like she was a fugitive. Then we found the city of the pegasi, and then I officially became a part of it. I found that all those tales I was told since I was a foal, were nothing but hot air, and the ponies I met on that journey have become close to me, and I would do anything for their well-being."
Bilbo listened intently to Hitch, taking in the fluctuations in his voice. He could not help himself but see the very same Bilbo Baggins that he knew ever since his younger days, and right before him in the moment.
"Come with me."
"What?"
"I understand your reluctance on the journey as well, and...it, does get lonely in Bag End."
Hitch was caught in his mouth, especially at remembering how comfortable and pleasantly simple the Shire was. The prospect would have perfect to take, if he had been the pony he no longer wanted to know.
"Bilbo, understand me when I say this, I would like nothing better than to sit down in your parlor, and eat easy off your table. I would, if I had been the me that is long gone now. I'm done playing the reluctant hero. I want-no, have to go wherever my friends walk. I can't turn back without knowing they'll be safe. I've grown rather fond of them."
Bilbo could see and understand the loyalty his friend had to his other friends, and felt no more need to say another word on the topic. He as well had grown fond of the Equestrian visitors, and he wished them all the luck in the world.
He turned to leave the cave, when Hitch stopped him. "What's that?"
A blue glow was emitting from inside Bilbo's sheath, and taking out his sword it was definitely the source of the glow. Hitch, wide eyed with terror, took out Anguirel and it too was glowing a shade of blue.
"...it will glow a shade of blue whenever orcs are nearby," he heard Gandalf's voice in his head, the warning clear in his face.
Thorin had been overhearing the conversation at the cave-mouth, and on top of the blue-glowing swords he heard falling sand, which appeared to be the cave floor giving way to visible cracks in the floor. Now it was his turn to be wide-eyed in terror.
"Wake up! WAKE UP!" he called to the company.
"Thorin, what's the mat-?" Zipp began before she snapped to attention, right before the floor gave way.
The cave floor was nothing but a set of platforms prepared for in case of intruders that happen on the front doorstep to Goblin-town, as the company so unfortunately found out the hard way. The company was dropped to a long slide that led far underground, not exactly the most comfortable ride, but that did not stop Izzy from enjoying herself.
"WHEEE! THIS IS FUN!"
"PLEASE TELL ME HOW THIS IS FUN?!" Bombur screamed.
Eventually, the slide ended with a drop right onto a waiting platform, with Bombur coming last again, and Bilbo landing on Bombur.
"Oh, I can feel something crushing against my wing," Pipp winced.
"That might be my sword's end," Hitch replied, who had Dwalin lying right on his stomach. "Sorry about that."
Zipp was piled under Oin and Bifur, and when freeing herself something caught her ears. "I believe we have a more pressing matter!"
Right as she spoke an entire hoard of goblins came rushing right at the captured company: four for each dwarf and two for each pony, and all against the violent groans and beatings.
"Hey! Keep your filthy hands out of my feathers!" Pipp shouted.
"ARG! I'll get you for this!" Dwalin raged.
"Where are we even going?" Sunny asked amongst the constant manhandling from the goblin captors.
As the goblins led the company through the winding tunnels and across disheveling bridges to an underground citadel, wide walls, filled to the brim with the most ugly building structures, and right smack in the middle of it all was the fattest, biggest, and ugliest goblin in all of Goblin-town: the Great Goblin, sat upon his throne of wood and bone, and wielding a staff of similar make.
And on cue from the Great Goblin, the instruments began beating to the Song of Goblin-town.
"Great Goblin: Clap! Snap! The black crack! Grip, grab! Pinch, nab! And down, down to Goblin-town!
Goblin Chorus: Down, down to Goblin-town!
Great Goblin: You go, my lad!
Goblin Chorus: you go, my lad!
"Great Goblin: Clash, crash! Crush, smash! Hammer and tongs! Knocker and gongs! Pound, pound, far underground!
Goblin Chorus: Pound, pound, far underground!
Great Goblin: Ho, ho! my lad!
Goblin Chorus: Ho, ho! my lad!
"This is the ugliest song I have ever heard in my life!" Pipp hissed to Hitch.
"I can see that they embrace it," Hitch hissed back.
"Great Goblin: Swish, smack! Whip crack! Batter and beat! Yammer and bleat! Work, work! Nor dare to shirk,
Goblin Chorus: Work, work! Nor dare to shirk,
Great Goblin: While Goblins quaff, and Goblins laugh, Round and round far underground!
Goblin Chorus: Round and round far underground! Below, my lad!"
The Great Goblin held out the last note the longest, and when he finished the entire cavern cheered with delight, apart from the captive company of course.
"Catchy, isn't it?" he smirked. "It's one of my own compositions."
"That was some of the grossest music I ever heard!" Pipp spoke up. "If you even call it that!"
"Agreed," said Balin. "That was an abomination!"
"Abominations, mutations, deviations; that's all you're ever going to find down here," the Great Goblin laughed, his flabby chin waggling something grotesque. "But now that we have acquainted ourselves we can get down to business."
He stretched out his great feet and placed them right onto a pile of goblins acting as a step stool, and balanced himself before the company. The goblin captors had removed and piled the weapons off to one side, visible within arm's length but out of current commission.
"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?" the Great Goblin demanded. "Spies? Thieves?! Assassins?!"
"Dwarves and their ponies, your malevolence," a goblin captor replied.
"Dwarves and their ponies?"
"Found 'em on the front porch."
"Why have you brought their ponies to me then, hmm?"
"Begging your pardon, but you heard what the pink one said."
"Well, don't just stand there, search them! Every crack! Every crevasse!"
The goblins then put there hands in wherever on the captured company would fit, taking out whatever was not attached, including but not limited to: Oin's ear trumpet, before squishing it flat, Izzy's saddle bag, and Nori's pack. Izzy's bag was dumped to reveal scraps of wood and unfinished models, while Nori's had been filled with many of the silverware from Elrond's dining table.
"It is my belief, your great protuberance," said the same goblin, holding aloft a candelabra. "That they are in league with elves!"
"Did you used to be a thief, Nori?!" Hitch hissed.
"It was a couple of keepsakes," Nori shrugged.
"Made in Rivendell. Second Age. Couldn't give it away," the Great Goblin said, before tossing it right into the chasm below.
"What a shame," Izzy sighed. "I rather liked that candle."
"What are you doing in these parts, hmm?! Speak!" the Great Goblin demanded.
"Don't worry lads, I'll handle this," Oin stepped forward.
"This is not going to end well," Hitch sighed under his breath.
"No tricks! I want the truth, warts and all."
"You're going to have to speak up! Your boys flattened my trumpet."
"I'll flatten more than your trumpet!" the Great Goblin roared, smashing away a nearby build.
"If it's more information your wanting, then I'm the one you should speak too!" Bofur called, coming forward.
"Me as well!" called Izzy, joining Bofur's side.
The Great Goblin looked like he was about to do something fierce, but the prospect of a new pair of voices stopped his eventual tirade, even if he was hard to humor.
"Izzy, don't!" Sunny hissed.
Bofur hesitated in his response. "We were on the road," he said.
"Well, it's not so much a road as a path," Izzy added. "Actually, it's not even that, come to think of it. It's more like a track."
"Anyway," Bofur picked up. "The point is: we were on the road, like a path, like a track, and then we weren't. Which is a problem...because we were supposed to be in Dunland last Tuesday."
The remaining ponies could see that the Great Goblin was losing his patience fast.
"Visiting distant relations," Dori put forth.
"Some inbreeds on me mother's side."
"I haven't seen my Uncle Harold in a long while, you see-" Izzy added.
"SHUT UP!" the Great Goblin loudly and rudely interrupted, silencing the company back in line. "Very well," he continued. "If they will not talk, then we'll make them squawk!"
That brought out the excitement in the populace, much to the horror of the company.
"Bring up the Mangler!" he ordered. "Bring up the Bone Breaker!" He then pointed towards Pipp. "Start with the prettiest!"
She stared in blank fear, as Zipp and Hitch rushed to her side, horrified at the very conception. However, Thorin immediately raised his voice, "Wait!"
He then made himself known to the Great Goblin, much to his immediate delight and merriment.
"Well, well, well! Look who it is! Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror! King under the Mountain!" He then made a humorous bow, much to the joy of the watchful goblins about in the town. "Oh! But I am forgetting! You don't have a mountain, and you're not a king! Which makes you...nobody really."
Something caught a gleam in his eye, because he leaned forward right to Thorin's face. "I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head," he smirked.
"I'll give you three guesses as to who that might be," Hitch whispered to Zipp.
"Just the head, hmph, nothing attached."
"Thorin could have made plenty enemies who would want his head," Zipp hissed.
"Perhaps, you know of whom I speak of," the Great Goblin continued, reveling in Thorin's silence. "An old enemy of yours."
Thorin's face grew grimmer by the second, for he knew all too well.
"A pale orc, astride a white warg."
"But, Thorin said he died long ago," Pipp whispered, confused.
"Yeah, but we only have his word to go off from it, don't we?" Hitch whispered back.
"Azog the Defiler was destroyed," Thorin stated. "He was slain in battle long ago."
"So you think his defiling days are done, do you?" The Great Goblin laughed hissing from his throat as he turned to his messenger goblin. "Send word to the pale orc. Tell him, 'I have found his prize.'"
The messenger scribbled on some paper, before ziplining out of sight, cackling like a madman. The Great Goblin then turned back to the company.
"And so, now that introductions have been issued, perhaps you can tell me about your traveling ponies, eh? They definitely seem foreign, otherwise they would be the feast of the goblin children already? Where do they come from?"
Sunny at last mustered her courage and spoke.
"We come from faraway land," she said.
"How far are we talking, now that you mentioned it?"
"Beyond your wildest imagination."
"I don't know, I can imagine quite a bit. What's it like?"
"It's open, and beautiful and..." she hesitated into contemplative silence.
"And...?"
"Everypo-one gets along."
The entire underground erupted in echoing laughter, the Great Goblin laughing the deepest, loudest, and longest. The ponies looked back to their friend with looks of helplessness, and the dwarves remained respectively silent, while Thorin gave a look of disappointed appraisal.
"You don't understand! They three pony tribes had been separated, but I helped them reunite!"
She recoiled the moment the words left her mouth, stricken with fear of herself. The Great Goblin, though his was hideous in appearance, was also predatorial with those under his very mercy.
"You really are not of this world!" he bellowed. "Otherwise you know better, my dear!"
Sunny tried her best to avoid his ugly gaze, despite his eyes closing down. "What-what do you mean?"
"I suppose the dwarves haven't told you anything, hmm? Not even about their massacres?"
"Well, I know about what happened to Erebor and Moria-"
The Great Goblin laughed again. "Oh, ho, ho, ho! They really haven't told you!"
"Told me what?"
"The massacred and killed many of my people, but most of the time for sport rather than in battle. Of course that's nowhere near going to be the biggest surprise, or, should I say, would have been."
"Don't listen to him," Thorin interjected.
"They kill you for sport?" Sunny mumbled, distracted in a waving vision.
"You should never have left home, my dear," the Great Goblin sniggered. "You're off the edge of the map, and here, there be monsters."
The goblins laughed and cheered, then the Great Goblin broke into song at the sight of giant torture instruments being carried over under a gathering of goblins.
"Great Goblin: Bones will shattered, necks will be rung! You'll be beaten and battered, from racks you'll be hung! You will die down here and never be found! Down in the deeps of Goblin-town!"
One of the goblin captors thought to take a peak at Thorin's sword, and immediately doing so hissed in disgusted anger and threw it down for all goblins to see and quiver at the sight.
"I know the sword!" he shook. "It is the Goblin-cleaver! The Biter! The blade that sliced a thousand necks! Slash them! Beat them! Kill them! Kill them all!"
The goblins began whipping at the company, doing the most damage to the unarmored ponies, despite the dwarves attempts to fend them off with their fists. Three goblins then shoved and held Thorin to the ground, one holding a knife above his neck.
"Cut off his head!" the Great Goblin roared.
"Thorin, no!" Sunny cried.
A bright light suddenly shown, and a great wind blew through the cavern, sending the torture devices and their carriers over to unknown fates to the company. Once the dwarves and ponies regained themselves they looked upon their gray-bearded and shining sword gleaming rescuer, none other than the Gray Wizard himself.
"Gandalf!" Hitch gasped.
"Take up arms," Gandalf said to the company. "Fight! FIGHT!"
The company riled together, took back their weapons, and fought against the vastly numbered but also greatly unexperienced enemies. Hitch stood firm beside Gandalf, wielding Anguirel as it shone like a brother to Glamdring, while the Great Goblin cowered ever more greatly at the elven blades of yore.
"He wields the Foehammer! The Beater! Bright as daylight!" he squealed. "And he wields the Iron-of-the-Fiery-Star! The Anvil! Stronger than rock itself!"
"Gandalf, look out!" Hitch cried, right after slicing a goblin head with cleanliness!
Gandalf took his warning in time to counter the Great Goblin as he swung his club right at the wizard, and from a swing of shining Glamdring countered the towering mass was sent reeling back and over the side.
Sunny was still feeling overwhelmed, even as she took back Dagmor for her own, then her eyes went wide with terror as she accidentally unsheathed it and the blade fiercely through a charging goblin, screeching its final squeals before slipping off the blade and dropping into the abyss, leaving black drops of blood on its tips. She stood frozen, dismayed and in shell shock, unaware and unresponsive to the closing danger.
Pipp took notice of her friend's condition, and wielding her elven shield that shone the morning sky, she charged a gathering of goblins ringing themselves around Sunny, and the moment they shot their eyes to the blinding gleam they were all greatly shoved and hurled over.
"You alright?" she asked to Sunny.
"I...I just..."
"You must understand that that...thing would have killed you otherwise."
"You're not helping!"
"No I'm not! I'm protecting..." she then held aloft her elven shield for all to see. "...with Anvil."
"Nice to see you've named your shield," Zipp commented. "But suppose we should all leave?!"
"Agreed!" Gandalf cried. "Follow me! Quick!"
The company made good and followed right in the running footsteps of the Gray Wizard, making sure to slice their way through any charging goblin oblivious to their talent in their weaponry. Zipp, as the swiftest among the ponies, kept close the front firing Dailir wherever close behind Dwalin, when by chance rushing across a bridge a goblin-hoard was charging right for them.
"Use the post!" she cried.
"Right!" he agreed.
Cutting the ropes, they and some of the dwarves behind them heaved up and shoved off many a goblin all at once before continuing through the caverns. Pipp stayed close to her sister, while the other half of the company was rushing across bridges as Hitch stayed close to Gandalf's stead, shoving aside a goblin that crashed and fell a wooden bridge below.
"Watch out for goblin archers!" Kili cried.
Zipp looked right across the chasm to see arrows flying with such close accuracy.
Pipp saw the determination in her sister's eyes. "What are you planning?"
"Cover me, if you can," she said.
"You doubt your own sister as she wields aloft Anvil?!"
"And you underestimate as your sister handles Belthrongding that twangs Dailir?!"
"Together?" The pair locked hooves.
"Together."
Stretching their wingspan they leapt around the flying arrows catching the undivided attention of the goblin archers. Pipp kept Anvil giuarding her sister, as she twanged Dailir into one goblin after another, falling into the chasms with only the pierce of Dailir but not the arrow in question. Pipp kept her movements in the air flawless and smooth, as Anvil obeyed its mistress' intentions and kept the rotten arrows of the underground scathing only but the elven shine, leaving naught even a scratch.
"She's a skillful archer," Kili beamed with pride.
"And she moves magnificently," Hitch stared, wide eyed.
"Come on, we'll have time to discuss where your fondness lies later."
The sisters rejoined the escape as Thorin led the Biter swinging across the wooden pathways, Balin, Bofur, Oin, and Dwalin following close in his steps. At however one point Zipp made familiar with some swinging goblins heading right for their necks above.
"Cut the ropes!" Thorin cried.
Slicing through the ropes the structure above swung down and the goblins got roped and stuck.
"Look out, Kili!" Hitch cried.
Goblin archers were now approaching, and Kili and Anguirel could only do so much against the arrows. Thinking fast, they took and nearby ladder as a makeshift plow and with the strength of the gathered dwarves pushed the goblins back and over, then using the ladder as a bridge crossed the very gap, before Izzy launched back to the pursuing goblins in a shower of magic.
Now the company became whole again, rushing behind Thorin and Gandalf, slicing past the goblins with the shine of the lucky blades of elven make, and making it to a bridge suspended only by overhanging ropes. Thinking fast, Thorin sliced at one of the ropes sending the bridge in a swing. However, Sunny lost her hoofing but Pipp caught her, using Anvil as the guardian of its mistress. Fili sliced the remaining rope, sending the bridge with the goblins down, down to the darkness, leaping as Zipp caught him in time.
The goblins charged at the company from all sides, coming down from overhead on all angles, especially on poor Bombur, who fell through two layers of bridges before Izzy blasted the goblins like leaves in the wind, leaving not a scratch of blood.
"Thanks, Izzy," Bombur sighed.
"Anything for a friend!" Izzy beamed.
They caught up behind the company as Gandalf sent a boulder ahead of them for the oncoming goblins, tumbling a clear pathway for the company to round the corner and rush for the closest bridge, and had been home free had the Great Goblin not jumped them from right under the bridge before them, facing down Gandalf.
"You thought you could escape me?" he snarled as he swung his staff at Gandalf, just shy of ripping his robes. "What are you going to do now, wizard?"
Gandalf responded by poking his staff at the Great Goblin's eye, and slicing a scar open on his belly, while he yelped in pain.
"That'll do it," he nodded, as Gandalf sliced at his neck, slumping him forward.
The strain on the bridge was too much to handle, and the bridge of broken three-layers with company gave way and began scrapping down the chasm. Izzy held tight to Sunny, while Hitch screamed from the topmost of the bridge, and the pegasi sisters holding firm to each other. The dwarves either screamed in terror or stared wide-eyed in horror at the depth of the chasm. After a long ride of a rollercoaster, the bridge came to a crashing stop, with all the occupants alive and unharmed.
Gandalf and Hitch were the first to stand back up, Hitch sheathing Anguirel the moment he caught back his breath.
"Well, that could've been worse," Bofur said, right before the carcass of the Great Goblin fell right onto the bridges remains.
"You've got to be joking!" Dwalin groaned.
Zipp helped her sister and friends up, before noticing the coming danger from up above.
"Gandalf!" she cried.
Climbing down in hoards, the hellbent goblins were rushing with all their delight and ugliness.
"There's too many of them!" Hitch cried to Gandalf. "We can't fight them all!"
"Only one thing will save us, daylight!" Gandalf declared. "Come on, on your feet! Follow me!"
He rushed them through the winding passages of the Misty Mountain tunnels, turning this way and that, the goblin war-cries never once leaving their earshot. The dwarves found a few tight squeezes, and the ponies were beginning to become dizzy, until Gandalf pointed towards the streak of the sunset, shining in through the unguarded and open backdoor. The company wasted no time making for the exit, not daring to look back or beside them, and thinking only about seeing the sunshine after such an extended period.
The company of Thorin Oakenshield had escaped Goblin-town, and passed through the Misty Mountains themselves.
Author's Note
While the events of Riddles in the Dark still occur, I am not including it in this fanfic because I believe it is too much of a Bilbo centric chapter