The Ranger ➵ Kili Durin

PART 2 : PROLOGUE

The rain fell heavily against the dirt road, creating large pools of water and mud that were easy to step in. The inn at Bree was packed that night as the young dwarf king made his way inside, shaking the raindrops off his cloak hood and setting his bag down next to the table he now sat in. He glanced warily from side to side as he ate, cautious by the amounts of people with eyes on him wildly. One figure stood out more than the others, a dark hooded figure seated in the corner of the pub, smoking a pipe quietly. However, he quickly forgot about the mysterious figure when another person plopped down in the seat directly in front of him.

    "I should introduce myself. My name is Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey," the large man stated kindly.

    "I know who you are," Thorin said gruffly, for he did not trust the man seated before him.
    "Well now!" Gandalf exclaimed with a smile, seemingly oblivious to Thorin's obvious discomfort and distrust. "This is a fine chance. What brings Thorin Oakenshield to Bree?"

    Thorin, with shifting eyes, replied, "I received word that my father had been seen wandering the Wilds near Dunland. I went looking, and found no sign of him."

    "Thorin," Gandalf said, almost pitifully, "it's been a long time since anything but rumor was heard of Thrain."

    "He lives. I'm sure of it," Thorin stated boldly, although he was beginning to doubt himself as time went on.

    "My father came to visit you before he went missing," Thorin said again. "What did you say to him?"

    Gandalf took a sip of his drink and set the cup heavily back down onto the table.

"I urged him to march upon Erebor; to rally the seven armies of the dwarves, to destroy the dragon and take back the Lonely Mountain, and I would say the same to you," he paused, "Take back your homeland," the wizard said strongly.

Thorin, deep in contemplation, picked up his mug and drank the ale quietly.

"This is no chance meeting, is it Gandalf?" The dwarf asked. The wizard looked at him deeply, before replying.

"No, it is not," the wizard dropped his voice to a loud whisper, "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," he finished.

"I imagine they regretted that," Thorin replied, his voice laced with slight amusement.

"One of them was carrying a message," Gandalf continued, and took out a dirty piece of cloth on the table. A sketch of the Lonely Mountain laid in the corner, and dark, cryptic handwriting was strewn across it. Gandalf pushed the cloth towards the dwarf and said, "it is black speech. A promise of payment."

"For what?" Thorin asked warily.

"Your head," Gandalf replied gravely. Two scruffy looking men stood up from the pub and left quickly, looking back over their shoulders to stare at Thorin as they exited. Thorin and Gandalf noticed this, and both he and Gandalf also noticed the dark figure under the hood stand up just as quickly and follow them out. The character walked briskly past Gandalf, and Thorin noticed the miniscule nod he shared with the hooded figure. It walked out of the pub quickly in the same direction the two men did, and Gandalf continued to speak of the mission to reclaim Erebor. Thorin listened, but in the back of his mind, he continued to see the hooded figure nod at Gandalf and leave the pub quickly to follow the men, wondering if they were a friend or foe.

Wow guys, I'm back and NOT dead. Shocking, I know.

Well, welcome back. I'm sure you can probably guess who the mysterious hooded figure is, and if you can't, I highly advice you go back through and read part I again.

I love you guys, thanks for the support and the love. I hope y'all enjoyed this, and I'll try and be better at updating more frequently.

Thanks guys!

Stay mysterious
em