the Stowaway (Hobbit fan-fic)

Chapter 1

 It was raining rather steadily and my dark hood was doing a poor job of keeping me dry as I walked. I was soaked to the bone and was ready for a real rest. Though it was dark out, I could see perfectly clearly through the rain. I stopped to take a small rest, a few miles outside of Bree. I pulled out a little lembas bread and ate it, rain dripping down my face. After walking for a few more minutes, I froze midstep. I could hear footsteps coming from behind me and from the sound of it, they were following me. I growled under my breath and pulled out my bow and an arrow. When I could see the figure out of the corner of my eye, I pulled the string back.

"One more step," I said, "and you'll be dead before your foot hits the ground."

"Is that any way to greet an old friend?" a voice laughed through the rain.

I relaxed and returned my arrow to its quiver and my bow to my back.

"You should know better than to sneak up on me, Gandalf," I sighed.

He chuckled as he came closer, putting his hand on my cold shoulder.

"Let us go to Bree," he requested. "We can dry off and have something to eat while I tell you of an adventure I have in mind."

I smiled and nodded. Readjusting my hood, we started towards the town. We arrived at the town in less than an hour, coming up to the gate. Gandalf spoke briefly with the gatekeeper and we walked into town. The wizard led me through the streets, soon coming to the Prancing Pony. We got ourselves a table that was partly hidden in shadow. I ordered a small bit of food while Gandalf said he would hold off for the time being.

"Alright, Gandalf," I said once the waitress had left. "What's this big adventure of yours?"

"Do you recall who Thror was?"

"Of course. He was King Under the Mountain, ruler of Erebor."

"Exactly. Long ago, his son, Thrain, gave me his map of the mountain. I had urged him to go and reclaim his homeland from Smaug, but he has vanished. Now, I am going to try and do the same with his son, Thorin Oakenshield, who is on his way here as we speak."

"So you want the dwarf prince to take back the Lonely Mountain from a dragon who has lived there for nearly sixty years and still lives deep within Erebor?"

"Yes."

"Sounds like fun." The waitress returned with my food and after I thanked her, she left. "What part am I to play in this quest?"

Gandalf nodded and pulled out a note on a piece of cloth.

"On the way here, I encountered a group that was carrying this message."

"You know I can't read Black Speech, Gandalf," I told him, recognizing the text. "I can only speak it."

"It's talking about a price for the head of Thorin Oakenshield. And that is where you come in, my friend."

"How so?"

"I want you to protect the line of Durin and the rest of the company. Someone obviously wants Thorin dead, and we cannot allow that to happen if the quest is to be successful."

"If I recall correctly, dwarves aren't very fond of elves, no thanks to King Thranduil. Thorin won't agree to having me with them."

"That is why you will be following us in secret."

I smiled from under my hood.

"This is a crazy plan, Gandalf. There's no way I'm turning it down."

The wizard chuckled.

"Wonderful to hear." He glanced around. "Ah. Thorin has arrived. If you'll excuse me, I must go and persuade him to go on this quest. You may stick around if you so wish, or I can meet up with you afterwards."