Defenders of Middle Earth: A Middle Earth Story(Book 3)

Chapter 23: The Song of the Dwarves

A thick cloud of dust arose from the serpentine road as the company marched south. The force was around three hundred strong now, for many of the warriors of the Blue Mountains had willingly taken up arms to join the quest. The sun was just beginning cast its first beaming rays over the Misty Mountains to the east, but it was not yet visible to the group, for dawn had only just arrived. Gloin let out a loud yawn as he took his place beside Gerithor.

"The land is changing, lad," he said as his sleep filled eyes took in the landscape. "The sun isn't as bright as it once was."

"Seems the same to me," Gerithor replied. He had been awake for several hours already, for he had taken the night watch before the group had departed the mountains. He too noticed that something seemed off, but he elected to keep it to himself for the time being.

"It may have been the same during your short lifetime," Gloin said. "But when I was young the sun was vibrant, lively even. Now the curse of Sauron dims its light."

At the mention of the Dark Lord Gerithor felt a chill go down his spine, and it seemed that a cold, unwelcome wind began to blow across the plains.

"His name should not be spoken aloud, not even in the relative safety of our company," Gerithor reprimanded as he drew his cloak closer. He saw that dark storm clouds were moving quickly toward them from the direction of the sea, an ill omen.

"Aye, right ye are," Kalan replied as he came up beside the two. "His reach has grown far."

"His reach does not yet extend this far West," Edhael said with hope in his voice. "And if our quest is successful, it never will."

None of them questioned his words openly, though Gerithor knew in his heart that they were not true. Already Sauron had managed to lay siege to the great elven haven of Mithlond. If he was capable of that, his reach had indeed stretched far. And the sorceress... Her servants were near as well. The darkness was spreading, and it was doing so quickly. It would only be a matter of time...

"Say, bard!" Kalan exclaimed suddenly, turning to Edhael. "Do you know how the dwarves first came to walk Middle Earth?"

"Well, if I were to guess... They probably were made out of the very stones themselves! Or at least, the legends I have heard say that." Edhael let out a laugh. "But what do the elves know of dwarves? As the saying goes, one should learn of the trees from the trees themselves! So tell me the story of the dwarves!"

Kalan grinned and turned to Gloin. "We dwarves know of a song in particular, a well-known one, that'll explain it better than I ever could."

At this he began to hum in a deep tone, and several nearby dwarves immediately joined in. After a moment Gloin began to sing, his clear voice ringing across the lonely plains:

The world was young, the mountains green,

No stain yet on the Moon was seen,

No words were laid on stream or stone,

When Durin woke and walked alone

Kalan immediately filled the emptiness when Gloin stopped, continuing the song:

He named the nameless hills and dells,

He drank from yet untasted wells,

Then another nearby dwarf picked up where Kalan left off, his voice almost operatic in tone:

He stooped and looked in Mirrormere,

And saw a crown of stars appear,

Gloin then rejoined the song, this time Kalan's voice harmonizing with his: