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A Journey To Remember
Kili
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{S A F F R O N}

"-I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of Dwarfish iron right up his jacksie!" Ori exclaimed loud from the dining room, standing from his bench seat as I poured myself a cold refreshing beverage; listening to the commotion fulfill the room.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us," Balin called out rationally, "but we number just thirteen," Balin paused as I gazed upon the dwarves that gathered at such a dark hour as this. I couldn't help be realize the small number of dwarves to compete against a large fire-breathing dragon at their doorstep, before Balin continued, "and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest."

"We may be few in number," Fili interrupted rather quickly as I turned my body away from the dinning room, thinking to myself for a moment. "But we're fighters, all of us, to the last Dwarf!" He shouted boldly, getting cheers of agreement from everyone around the table just before I turned towards the dinning room and leaning my body up against the rim of the walkway.

"And you forget, we have a Wizard in our company," Kili exclaimed as I fiddled with the top of my beverage cup, following the engraving pattern against the wood itself. Kili determinedly spoke, "Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time." Kili then steadily turned his head towards my direction, the two of us exchanging glances, causing myself to look away from his gaze.

"Oh, well, no. I wouldn't say-"

"How many, then?" Dori interrupted Gandalf much too quickly for his liking. I could still feel the heat of Kili's gaze burning right through my figure only moments before he turned his eyes back upon the business he was ordered to attend.

"What?" Gandalf questioned in surprise, feeling himself be thrown off guard for just this instant.

"Well, how many dragons have you killed?" Dori questioned rather spontaneously as I stood afar, waiting to see where this was going and if had already went too far.

"Go on. Give us a number," A dwarf exclaimed in the midst of the commotion before Thorin slammed his fists against the dinning table, interrupting hastily, catching everyone's eyes off guard. I began to listen and almost seemingly falling into a spell of the man's choice of words, tales, and songs of his forsaken homeland; the truth within his being just before something had caught my attention.

Something began to settle uncomfortably under my skin, something that felt as if it began lurking around the household in which we all stood within. I personally decided to check out this mysterious misguided feeling deep within my soul. I turned from the dining room and into the hall towards the front door; grabbing a small dagger from the pile of Fili's weapons I had placed upon the footstool.

I turned around to see if anyone was keeping a watchful eye, which no one was indeed doing such a thing as I managed to escape from the household. I held the dagger within my grasp tightly, taking a sharp turn to the left of my uncles hobbit hole. I began to hear rustling of the leaves near the farthest end, closest to the window. I stepped closer and closer before pushing the bush over my shoulder to see Mister Grovenfoot messing with the flowers my uncle had planted just a few days ago.

"Mister Grovenfoot!" I exclaimed as he fell back in surprise, his big old belly taking advantage of the balance he had upon his feet. "What on earth do you think you're doing with my uncles flowers?" I questioned, hiding the dagger underneath my leather belt against my backside.

"I couldn't help but grow a bit envious after Mister Baggins picked the last bundle er' lillies from the market," Mister Grovenfoot exclaimed in defense as I sighed in frustration, placing my hands against my hips, before he cried, saying, "I knew what he did was folly and he did it on purpose!" The man complained as I exhaled a deep breath. "Pick me liver, he would've never noticed anyhow."

"Go home, Mister Grovenfoot," I breathed out effortlessly as he scoffed finding his hat that was against the ground before slamming it upon his hard head. "I'll fetch you some lillies in the morning," I stated as he turned to look to me once again.

"There's a somthin' special in your heart there, Miss Saffle," Mister Grovenfoot stated, purposely pronouncing my name wrongly. "But I would suggest you find yourself a better wardrobe. You're be lookin' like my nephew, Timothy." Grovenfoot finished off as he found his way back to his household, humming and whistling a tune that was from around these parts of Hobbiton. I sighed to myself, shaking my head in disbelief before turning back to the front door; a slight chuckle escaping my lips.

❝A Journey To Remember❞ The Hobbit | KiliWhere stories live. Discover now