The Northern Mountains

~Eight~

eight

Hartlyn held her face to the sky, relishing in the feeling of the drops of rain on her pale skin. A careless smile danced on her pouted lips.

To her left, her love stared at her with soft eyes, watching her come undone by the purity of nature. The Mistress tilted her head to the right and opened her emerald green eyes to look at the sodden, miserable hobbit.

The redhead suddenly swung a huge cloak out of a tiny embroidered bag, making most of the dwarves watching, gape.

"There you go, Master Hobbit." He smiled gratefully at her, clutching the warm cloak tighter to his drenched body.

One of the dwarves then looked at the Grey Wizard, "Here, Mr Gandalf, can't you do something about this deluge?"

Jon rolled his eyes and Hartlyn smirked, both knowing she could if asked. Didn't mean she would, of course. But honestly, they had asked the wrong magic user. Not that they knew that the red haired beauty was as such.

"It is raining, Master Dwarf... and it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard."

"Are there any?" Bilbo asked.

"What?" Gandalf hummed back, not really hearing the halfling over the pouring rain.

"Other wizards?" the hobbit tried again.

"There-"

"Is five of them," All eyes turned to Jon, who hadn't said much, but had finally taken an interest in what the conversation was about, "Saruman the White, who is probably considered the 'leader,'" his lips curling around the word in disgust, his thoughts turning foul when he talked of this 'great wizard.' Really his thoughts about that certain Istari were quite...unsavoury.

The man clad in pure black went on with a voice that may have been quiet but was definitely one that caught all attention, "The Blue Wizards, Alatar and Pallando, are simply known as 'The Blue Wizards.' Quite simple really."

Gandalf wore a rather shocked expression, taken aback to see and hear that a stranger who was isolated in the Northern Mountains, would know all about the Istari, more specifically the two names he had forgotten.

"And who's the fifth?" Bilbo asked, all the dwarves silent as they listened to Jon, their minds focussed on him rather than the terrible weather.

This time it was Hartlyn who answered, her soft tone somehow cutting through the deafening downpour, "Radagast the Brown, dear Bilbo," the immortal witch smiled at him, "we've met actually. He had followed one of our wolves home, curious to where they had come from. He was strange, but we rather enjoyed his company and his tales."

Hartlyn looked to Jon for his reaffirmation and he nodded with an amused look in his dark eyes.

"Is he a great wizard?" Bilbo asked, turning to Gandalf, "Or is he more like you?"

The former Night's Watchman snorted while a burst of melodic laughter erupted from the woman of the group.

It seemed like the Grey Wizard couldn't answer as he did look a touch offended, even though the hobbit had meant none, he was only being inquisitive.