Chapter 4 - I sign up for death and they almost don't let me.

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"But can you handle thirteen?" he asked.
"Really? None of you are archers?" I laughed.
Whether he had an answer to that or not, I will never know, because a loud knock silenced everyone. I got up and went to the door when I saw Bilbo's pleading look.

When I opened the door, I saw a regal and admittedly, quite handsome looking Dwarf. He was also quite tall. Well, for a member of a race known for their short stature. I was only taller by a head and a bit. And I wasn't that short, generally speaking. For an, perhaps. I did feel rather small right then.
He didn't greet me at all and just stomped past me.
Very charming. Just because your hair looks nice in the breeze when look off to the side doesn't mean you get to ignore the person that opens the door for you. You do realise that you made me get up, right?

"Gandalf, I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. I wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door."
I tried to surpress a laugh, but a snort came out anyway. "How exactly does one lose one's way in the Shire? Twice no less. There are two main roads."
He looked angrily over his shoulder and I shut up. If looks could kill we'd both be dead, only he wouldn't know, because my eyes backstabbed him.

"Mark? There is no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago." Bilbo walked forward to find that indeed, there was a mark there.
"Have you told him anything at all, Gandalf?" I asked angrily.
"There is a mark; I put it there myself." My question got ignored. I walked away and sat at the table where most other dwarves were.
"I might as well say anything," I started. "My name is Dawn and I've got a birthmark in the shape of a dick on my left tit." This wasn't true of course, but I thoroughly enjoyed the utterly stunned expressions of those who were listening.
"Prove it," demanded Fili with a grin. If looks could kill, he'd be dead as well. And by his sudden change of expression, I'd wager that he was well aware of that.

Thorin circled Bilbo like a buzzard would a fresh corpse, inspecting and inquiring him. He came to the conclusion that Bilbo looked more like a grocer than a burglar.
The other Dwarves laughed at his joke and I rolled my eyes. Thorin went to sit at the table at the only free chair left, across from me. The men discussed some meeting at Ered Luin between the seven Dwarven kingdoms. I tried to follow but they used terms unfamiliar to me and to be honest, I have never been very interested in politics.

Good thing Legolas is the eldest. Even though that doesn't really matter anymore.

"You're going on a quest?" Bilbo asked. I shot Gandalf another angry look. Let's just say there'd be a lot of bodies if only looks could kill. But, I guess not, as I would have been the first to go.

Gandalf drew a deep breath. "Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light." Bilbo left the room and came back with a candle. Gandalf started explaining the quest.

About time.

"Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a solitary peak."
"Very poetic," I commented.
"Thank you, Born-At-Dawn," he answered my sass.
Fair point, but I wasn't the one who named me.

"That solitary peak? Is that the Lonely Mountain?" Bilbo questioned. Instead of Gandalf, the red-haired Dwarf, Gloin, I think, answered. "Aye! Oin has read the portents and the portents say it is time." All other Dwarves groaned, they'd probably heard this story a thousand times. Bilbo and I however sat there like a set of children listening to a fairy tale.
Oin continued the story: "Ravens have been flying back to the mountain as it was foretold: When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end."

"What beast?" Bilbo was the one asking questions, I sat there with my mouth shut, listening intently for once. Don't get used to it. I had my suspicions about who the beast was.
Fili was the one to carry on this time. It truly seemed like this story had been hammered into their heads. "Well, that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meathooks. Extremely fond of precious metals."
"Yes I know what a Dragon is."
"Sounds like someone I know," I mumbled. Kili, who sat next to me, chuckled softly. I don't know who he thought I was referring to, but I was in fact, referring to Thranduil. Or Saruman. They were interchangeable really.

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