The Hope of a Dwarf

2 - The Dwarves

I grimaced from my point under the table. The two dwarves I'd been following had arrived at a small town...if it could be called that. It appeared to be built into a hill. I'd never seen anything like it. They'd climbed to the very top, and I had followed at a safe(ish) distance behind. When they'd strutted into one of the halfling's homes, I'd waited until the host had turned away before darting into the nearest room.

I rubbed my nose. The dwarves' feast was well under way, and from under the tiny table, I could see all of the mess they were making. I frowned as the dwarves went silent, stuffing a fist in my mouth as they began to burp. Dwarves, I thought.

So I sat there, all curled up, my stocky knees and elbows jutting out at funny angles, listening to the dwarves' careless conversations. I was almost beginning to wonder if this wasn't actually a quest, and my head was beginning to feel heavy with sleep, when one of the dwarves began to sing. I straightened up so suddenly that I bumped my head on the bottom of the table. I cursed and rubbed my head, but, thankfully, no one noticed. I smiled as the dwarf sung.

"Blunt the knives, bend the forks
Smash the bottles and burn the corks
Chip the glasses and crack the plates
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

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!

Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl
Pound them up with a thumping pole
When you're finished if they are whole
Send them down the hall to roll

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"

That's when something odd happened. The dwarve's laughter slowly died off, and a loud knock rang through the house. I turned to the door as the halfling, Bilbo, scurried down the hall and pulled it open. A dwarf entered, holding himself high and proud. Though, behind the regal glory of his bearing, his eyes were dark, and sad. I couldn't decide if I hated him for his arrogance or liked him for the way he hid his sadness. The first interaction he had with the hobbit, however, made me decide.

"So, this is the Burglar. Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?" I scowled at the ground. I hated this guy.

"Excuse me?" Bilbo stuttered.

"Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?" I snorted softly into my palm. From what I had seen of the halfling, it seemed that the only weapons he could handle were a knife and fork, when he was attacking his dinner.

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

The dwarf smirked. I wanted to slap it off his smug face.

"Thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." The dwarves all bellowed with laughter and moved back into the dining room. From there on I couldn't really hear what they were saying. The one thing I didn't miss, however, was the loud "THUNK" that echoed through the hobbit hole when someone, presumably Bilbo, fainted. I tried not to listen in to his later conversation with the only tall member of the group, a man who I think was named Gandalf. I wasn't so sure of this, as I'd heard stories about the Great Grey Wizard, and I doubted he'd be helping this tiny group of dwarves to go on a quest.... Whatever that might be. Bilbo seemed very nervous about the prospect of an adventure. I didn't understand.

It's an adventure! I thought to myself. You'll never get this opportunity again. I frowned as Bilbo walked slowly down the hall. Guess he's given up, I thought. Stupid halfling. I scowled and twisted my shoulder, trying to get into a more comfortable position. I froze as I hit the underside of the hollow table. A loud "clunk" ran through the house. I squinted my eyes shut, and when I opened them, an old man with bright blue eyes was staring back at me.

"Gandalf, what in Durin's name are you doing?" The dwarf I'd assumed as leader walked closer. His footsteps shook the hard wood floor as he did.

"I think I've just found an addition to your quest." The wizard held out a hand, and I took it with a barely concealed grin. He pulled me out from under the table, and I stood there blinking in the low light. I made a small 'o' with my mouth as I saw the leader. He had long ivory hair, deep blue eyes and looked as though he wished to skin me alive. I decided to start small.

"Hello."

"Who are you?" His blue eyes burned into mine.

"Erm... Ulf. I'm a dwarf, but I wasn't living with our kind. I mean, I haven't been. For several years."

"Which Kingdom do you come from?" the leader demanded.

"I...I don't know. I, um, can't remember certain things. About my past. About my life with dwarves." Gandalf coughed violently and brought his long pipe away from his mouth.

"How much did you hear, Ulf?" He asked kindly.

I bit down on my lip, a habit I'd had for years.

"Um, there was a quest, and a bit about a dragon. And lots of burping." Some of the dwarves who'd gathered behind the leader smiled.

"Why are you here?" the leader asked.

"Durin's Beard, you ask a lot of questions, don't you? I'm here because I followed those two." I pointed at the two dwarves I'd tailed. The dark haired one (Kili?) shifted and looked at the ground. "Look, I've had... Well, I've had a boring life. To say the least. I've been searching for something to make it more interesting, and now I've found it." I turned my gaze the leader. "Adventure." A tall, half bald dwarf behind him glared at me.

"She's a trick! A spy!" His thick accent made me blink in suprise. His expression could only be described as hostility. But the leader looked as though he might actually give me a chance.

"A spy for who, Dwalin?" The taller dwarf behind the leader just scowled at me. The leader turned back to me. "What weapons do you use?"

"Oh, well, I've learnt a small amount of archery and knife work and swordplay, but not very much. But," I hastily added, noting his frown," I've been working in a farrier's. I'm pretty strong."

"Another dwarf would do you good, Thorin," Gandalf stated. Thorin... Something about the name was familiar, like a song I'd heard long ago, and didn't remember that I knew it until I heard it once more.

"We are going to reclaim Erebor. Though I gather you already know this, seeing as you've been there all evening."

"Erebor..." I murmured. "Wait, the one with a massive dragon sitting on all that gold?"

"We are going to reclaim our homeland from that scum!" Thorin yelled. "It is not about the gold!"

I held up my hands in apology.

"It will be dangerous, Ulf," Gandalf said, frowning at me around his pipe."You are still young."

I shook my head. "This is what I need, Gandalf. Maybe, as you reclaim your homeland, I can reclaim my past." Little did I know, both of these would come with a price.

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Hey guys! Sorry, I know that Author's Notes can be really annoying. I was just wondering if anyone here can draw. I, for one, can't draw to save my life, but I'd love a cute fan art of Ulf all stuck underneath the table.
Luv you all
BilboRoth🐾