To The Ends of The Earth

Chapter 5: Thirteen Dwarves

We returned after nightfall, and this time we were not alone. On our way back into the Shire we had crossed paths with a few of the dwarves that would be joining us on the journey. I had never been great with names, and as soon as the dwarves had introduced themselves I had immediately forgotten every single one. Bimber, maybe? Bombi? Most of them rhymed, and to make matters worse most of the dwarves also shared a common resemblance. According to Gandalf, part of the party should have already arrived at the hobbit's home by now. I did remember his name: Bilbo.

Thirteen dwarves. Bilbo would make fourteen, and Gandalf and myself fifteen and sixteen. Sixteen against one dragon. The odds didn't seem so bad.

I had fallen behind the rest of the group as the dwarves clamored over each other, speaking excitedly and filling Gandalf in on what they'd been up to over the past however many years. They certainly were taller than the hobbits I'd encountered earlier, though not by much.The dwarves came to about my chin, more or less, with some standing slightly shorter. They all shared similar features: larger noses, chubbier cheeks, and full beards.

"Are you alright, my dear?"

I hadn't noticed Gandalf drop behind the group as well, coming to walk beside me.

"Just a long day." I replied honestly.

Not even a day, really, I thought. Just that morning I'd been in my apartment, in my world. I couldn't help but wonder how much time had passed there.

He laughed.

"A day it has been." He agreed. "The first of many."

We followed behind the dwarves as they walked up the winding trail, back to the same green door from earlier. I stood behind the pack with Gandalf as the dwarves knocked frantically on the door. They clamored over each other again, each trying to push their way to the front as they waited for it to open. They were certainly an amusing bunch to watch.

The door finally swung open and when it did the group of dwarves tumbled over each other, falling in a mass through the entryway and into the foyer. Gandalf and I exchanged a look, and I saw him shake his head as the dwarves moaned and groaned from their new positions on the floor.

"Gandalf." I heard in a small, exasperated voice.

I peered inside and recognized the hobbit from earlier. He was standing, hands on his hips, as the dwarves pulled themselves to their feet and scrambled inside. I followed Gandalf through the opening once it was clear of bodies. I felt Bilbo's attention immediately turn to me.

"Who is this?" Bilbo asked, gesturing to me. "She doesn't look like a dwarf."

"This is Lilith, and no she is not a dwarf." Gandalf confirmed.

Bilbo looked to me, offering an awkward wave in greeting.

"Hello." He said. He opened his mouth to say something else before noticing one of the dwarves scamper by with a wicker chair. 

"Hey! No, not that. It's an antique. Excuse me." He gave a weary, apologetic smile before he scampered off in the dwarf's direction.

My eyes scanned the room as I watched him disappear into the crowd. It was as cozy on the inside as it was on the outside. All of the entry and doorways in the home were round to match the front door and the windows. The ceilings were low, and rather than a large open room most of the space consisted of tunneling hallways that led into each individual section of the home. It was lit throughout with warm, glowing candlelight that only added to the comfortable, peaceful atmosphere that Bilbo's furniture provided. There were plush, cozy chairs in every corner, beautiful carved wood tables, piles of books and papers, and ornately patterned rugs across the floor.