The Hobbit | The Lost Bender {Book 1}

2 | A chance meeting

Bree at night.
The rain was pouring down mercilessly from heaven like it never had before. 

A figure wrapped in a dark cloak moved silently through the streets of cobblestone, a sword hanging loosely on his back. His travel had been long and his feet hurt of the long walk, blisters stinging between his toes, wriggling in damp socks. 

His eyes shot up under the hood of his mantle and settled upon a sign with a horse. The Prancing Pony. 

Silently, the figure entered the tavern, throwing his bag on the floor and his soaked cloak over a hook. The chatter of drunk people filled his ears, the ambiance in the room cozy and warm. He sat down at a table and ordered some food. 

He had just lit his pipe when a young Hobbit lady brought his meal, placing it in front of him. "Ah, thanks." 

The man started munching on the bread greedily, since he was practically starving. His happy chewing came to an abrupt halt when his eyes fell on a figure in the corner, a bald fellow with a glass eye who was staring at him intensely. 

Uneasy, he turned back to his dinner, just wanting to shrug it off. Instead of taking another bite of his still-warm bread, he turned to the other side. 

Another man was staring at him and lifted himself from his seat. The bald guy had left his chair as well and approached him. The stranger put his food back on the plate and rested a hand on the handle of his sword, ready to attack if necessary. 

Before the men could reach him, however, someone sat down on the other side of his table. "Mind if I join you?" 

The figure observed his unexpected companion. A long grey gown and a lighter shade of grey beard. He seemed old and wise.
When the barmaid walked past them, the old man stopped her. "I'll have the same."
She nodded and left. 

"I should introduce myself. My name is Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey."
"I know who you are." The old man, Gandalf, smiled. '

"Well, now, this is a fine chance. What brings Thorin Oakenshield to Bree?"
The figure presumably called Thorin thought for a second before answering. 

"I received word that my Father had been seen wandering the wilds near Dunland. I went looking, found no sign of him."
"Thorin, it's been a long time since anything but rumor was heard of Thrain." 

Thorin shook his head. "He still lives, I am sure of it." 

The barmaid placed Gandalf's food on the table, causing a short silence to fall over the two before Thorin continued.
"My father came to see you before he went missing. What did you say to him?"

"I urged him to march upon Erebor, to rally the seven armies of the Dwarfs. To destroy the dragon and take back the Lonely Mountain, and I would say the same to you. Take back your homeland." 

Thorin leaned back onto his chair, lifting his ale to his mouth. 

"This is no chance meeting is it, Gandalf?" 

Gandalf looked at him with a piercing look.
"No, it is not. The Lonely Mountain troubles me, Thorin. That dragon has sat there long enough, sooner or later darker minds will turn towards Erebor. I ran into some unsavory characters whilst traveling along the Greenway. They mistook me for a vagabond." 

"I imagine they regretted that." responded Thorin.
Gandalf laid something before them onto the table, something that seemed like a piece of leather.
"One of them was carrying a message. It is Black Speech." 

He shoved it towards Thorin, whose eyes never left Gandalf.
"A promise of payment." stated Gandalf. "For what?" quizzed Thorin, his eyes now on the message.
"Your head." 

Thorins eyes shot up to Gandalf's while the old wizard continued.
"Someone wants you dead. Thorin, you can wait no longer. You are the heir to the throne of Durin. Unite the armies of the Dwarfs, together you have the might and power to retake Erebor. Summon a meeting of the seven Dwarf families, demand they stand by their oath." 

Thorins face fell into a frown. 

"The seven armies swore that oath to the one who wields the King's jewel, the Arkenstone. It is the only thing that will unite them, and in case you have forgotten, that jewel was stolen by Smaug." he shot back at the wizard. 

In the background, Thorin saw the two men who were watching him earlier leave the bar. 

"What if I were to help you reclaim it?" He turned to Gandalf with slight surprise. 

"How? The Arkenstone lies half a world away, buried beneath the feet of a fire breathing dragon." Thorin was convinced it was nearly impossible to reclaim their land. 

"Yes, it does. Which is why you need to trust me. I have a special offer for you, Thorin. A friend of mine has taken in two warriors. Young warriors, extremely powerful. They know the dragon. They can help us." 

Thorin tugged at his dark beard in thought. "I want to wait until the dragon grows old. Then he will be slower and easier to kill." Gandalf rested his elbows on the table, folding his hands. 

"If you wait until the dragon is old, you will be old too, and the warriors will also. Do it now, Thorin. Grab that one single chance." The raven-haired shook his head. 

"I have to think about it, Gandalf." Shoving his chair backwards, the grey wizard stood up.
"You have until tonight. Send me a message if you have decided on accepting my offer."
Gandalf turned towards the door, wanting to leave. 

As he was about to push open the door, the scrape of wood against stone was heard. The wizard looked over his shoulder, a small smile starting to play on his face.
Thorin had raised himself from his seat, pleading eyes looking at the older man in front of him.

"Wait. Gandalf. Let them come."