Ambitions of a Mountain King (The Hobbit Fanfiction)

Chapter 3: Bilbo Baggins

"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?" a short dwarf with white hair asked.

"Aye, envoys from all seven kingdoms." Thorin nodded.

"And what did the dwarves of the Iron Hill say? Is Dain with us?" a more balder dwarf questioned. He also had more tattoos then the others had. He seemed like one Lyra didnt want to cross in the dead of night.

"They will not come. They say this quest is ours, and ours alone." Thorin replied.

"You're doing a quest?" Bilbo questioned.

"Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light. Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak." Gandalf urged politely.

"The Lonely Mountain." Bilbo observed.

"Aye, Oin has read the portents, and the portents say: it is time." a different dwarf spoke.

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold. When the birds of the old return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end." another said.

"Uh...what beast?" Bilbo questioned, rather shakily.

"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 meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals." a dwarf with a hat smirked like he was proud of knowing what a dragon was. Lyra rolled her eyes and stood from the table taking her cup to the kitchen and placing it in the sink. She could feel the eyes of many dwarves but at the present she did not care.

"Yes, I know what a dragon is." she heard Bilbo hiss.

"I'm not afraid, I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of the dwarfish iron right up his jacksy!" a dwarf who had spoke before mentioned, who at this moment spoke with courage but Lyra was sure that when the time came he would wet himself.

"Good lad, Ori!" a dwarf spoke.

Ah finally a name. Lyra thought to herself as she walked back to the dinning room.

"Sit down!" someone hissed.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest." the older dwarf stated as Lyra sat back down in her seat next to Thorin.

"Hey! Who are you calling dim?" Ori questioned.

"Sorry, what did he say?" a dwarf questioned.

"We may be few in number. But we're fighters, all of us! To the last dwarf!" one of the few younger dwarves stated.

"And you forget we have a wizard in our company, Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time." Lyra assumed was the brother had mentioned.

"Oh, well. No, uh, I...I wouldn't say..." Gandalf stuttered.

"How many then?" One asked.

"What?" Gandalf muttered.

"Well, how many dragons have you killed? Go on, give us a number!" one urged.

"Uh...Please. Please." Bilbo stuttered.

"Enough! If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? 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. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?" Thorin stood, as the dwarves around him almost coward in fear. Lyra almost felt in awe of the dwarven prince. Almost. But not quite.