❝A Journey To Remember❞ The Hobbit | Kili

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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 loudly from the dining room, standing from his seat as I poured myself a cold refreshing glass of water; listening to the commotion that filled the room.

     "The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us," Balin called out rationally, "but we number just thirteen," he paused, "and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest."

     "We may be few in number," Fili interrupted rather quickly, grasping my attention. "But we're fighters, all of us, to the last Dwarf!" He shouted boldly, getting cheers of agreement from everyone around the table. 

     "And you forget, we have a Wizard in our company!" Kili exclaimed, standing to his feet. "Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time." Kili looked in my direction with a sense of accomplishment, gaining a few cheers of agreement.

     "Oh, well, no. I wouldn't say-"

     "How many, then?" Dori interrupted Gandalf rather quickly.

     "What?" Gandalf questioned with surprise. 

     "Well, how many dragons have you killed?" Dori questioned spontaneously. I slowly grabbed a chair, finding my way next to Bofur. 

     "Go on. Give us a number!" A dwarf exclaimed amid the commotion. 

     Thorin slammed his fits against the table, breaking the silence with his booming voice. "Shazara!" he exclaimed in Dwarvish, all eyes on him. "If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too?" He let out a subtle sigh. "Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look East to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected." Thorin made eye contact with every individual in the room. "Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours?" He questioned, his chest raised high. "Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?" He shouted. His fits in the air. "Du Bekâr! Du Bekâr!"

     I now understand...

     I thought to myself, piecing together the information regarding this quest. Hope began to blossom from the pit of my heart. I knew I needed this. This is a longing I had to fulfill. 

     Bilbo...

     I thought to myself, knowing I couldn't leave him behind. He needed me and I needed him. 

     "You forget, the front gate is sealed!" Balin informed the company. "There is no way into the mountain." 

     I glanced around the room, studying the Dwarves. I noticed a deflation in their statures, their wits about them growing dim. 

     "That, my dear Balin," Gandalf broke the silence, a mischievous grin now visible. "Is not entirely true." As he twiddles his fingers, forcing an object to dance within his grasp, a magnificent key of some sort becomes visible. 

     Thorin's eyes grew wide, his intense stare becoming more obvious as if he knew where this key belonged. "How came you by this?" 

     "It was given to me by your father," he responded. "By Thrain, for safekeeping." Gandalf slowly handed the key to Thorin. "It is yours now." 

     I watched Thorin's admiration for the object which was very dear to him. I glanced across the room, the Dwarves astonished at the sight before them.

     I had then heard a rumble towards the outside window, only a few of the dwarves taking notice. I quietly exited the gathering before rushing ever so slightly to the unwanted presence. I reached under my kirtle, gripping the handle of my small dagger before slowly making my way to the side window closest to the kitchen. 

      I stealthily climbed out of the window, the rustling of leaves becoming painfully obvious. I stepped closer to the mysterious thing, pushing the bush over my shoulder to now see Mister Grovenfoot messing with a section of flowers my uncle had recently planted.

     I immediately hid the dagger up my sleeve. "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?" 

     "I-I couldn't help but be a tad envious of Mister Baggins bundle er' lilies," the hobbit exclaimed in defense. "'Tis was the last bit at the market!" 

     I sighed in frustration, placing my hands against my hips.

     "I knew what he did was folly!" The man complained as I exhaled a deep breath. "Pick me liver, he would've never noticed anyhow."

     "It is no concern of yours whether or not Bilbo had the advantage of the last set of lilies. A sell is a sell, Grovenfoot." I admitted to the pouting fellow. "I'll tell you what," I paused, receiving a hopeful glance. "Find Miss Bottlenn. Let her know I sent you and make sure you ask for a bundle of lilies. She has a large garden overflowing with such." 

     "There's a somthin' special in your heart there, Miss Saffle!" Mister Grovenfoot stated, a wide grin planted upon his face. "Though," he paused, gesturing to my figure. "Would suggest you find yourself a better wardrobe. You're be lookin' like me nephew, Timmy." Grovenfoot finished off as he found his way back to his household, humming and whistling a tune. 

     I sighed to myself, shaking my head in disbelief. I had then brought myself back into the Baggins dwelling, a chuckle escaping my chest. "Lilies," I mumbled to myself, opening the front door. 

     "-Incineration?" I overheard my uncle. I began walking towards the kitchen, watching Bilbo look closely at a long contract of some sort.

     "Aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in a blink of an eye!" Bofur added cheerfully. 

     I furrowed my brows. "What will? That Dragon?" I answered my own question in surprise.  "Is he not presumed dead?" 

     "It is unknown," Bofur answered, his head tilting slightly. 

     Bilbo began to inhale deep breaths, bending over slightly as he placed his hands on his knees. He placed a hand on his chest, squinting his eyes ever so slightly.

     "You alright, laddie?" Bofur questioned. 

     "Yes, but I feel a bit faint." Bilbo stood up, his head tilted slightly down. 

     "Think furnace with wings!" Bofur added, now enlightening the mood for the rest of the dwarves. 

     "Do you need water, uncle?" I questioned, placing a hand on his back between the shoulder blades. 

     "Air, I need air." 

     "Flash of light, searing pain, then poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash!" 

      I watched as Bilbo composed himself, his arms resting on his hips. I watched as the color began to fade from his face. "Nope." He quickly fell to the ground, now unconscious. 

     "Uncle?" I kneeled toward his figure, giving him a slight shake even though I could tell he was still breathing. I looked up to Bofur, a wide grin planted across my face. "Well, that was nicely handled." I let out a laugh, the dwarves following in pursuit.