Last Satyr of Middle Earth (Thorin Oakenshield)

Part 3

"Lord Elrond, pardon my question but do you not have meat? Surely chicken or some meat would be among your diet of greens?'

"We eat more green than meat my dear." Elrond doesn't fully answer the question and Iris knows he does have meat but doesn't want to give it to the dwarves. So much for being guests.

"Of course. Excuse me as well." She stands and walks over to the dwarves, mainly where Bilbo is to ask him some questions she wishes to know. "Hey Bilbo, enjoying yourself?"

"Ah yes. Are you?" Bilbo looks at the goddess Satyr behind him.

"It isn't as good as the woods but it is fine. So, I was wondering if I can ask you a few things." She leans on the back of his chair looking down at the hobbit. He is cute she must admit.

"Sure."

Bilbo and Iris go on talking about the Shire and Hobbiton. The more she learns, the more her heart beats to live there. Peaceful and has a homey feel to it. If she had known about the place, she would have gone to live there herself.

"There a..." their attention is pulled to the funny hat dwarf standing on the table beginning to sing.

"...an inn. A merry old inn.

There's an inn

Inn, there's an inn, there's a merry old inn,

Beneath an old grey hill;

And there they brew a beer so brown

That the Man in the Moon himself came down

One night to drink his fill.

The ostler has a tipsy cat

That plays a five-stringed fiddle;

And up and down he saws his bow

Now squeaking high,

Now purring low.

Now sawing in the middle

So, the cat on the fiddle played a hey-diddle-diddle

A jig that would wake the dead;

He squeaked and he sawed, and he quickened the tune,

While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon:

"It's after three!", he said"

Everyone cheered and clapped, and Iris enjoyed the song very much with a bright smile on her face. Night fell and the dwarves retired on a balcony all camping together. Iris, Thorin, Bilbo, Gandalf, and Balin as she learned the name of the short white-bearded dwarf standing near a cliff with Elrond.

"It is the legacy of my people." Thorin grit out through his teeth as Gandalf insists, he shows the map to Elrond. "It is mine to protect, as are its secrets."

The old wizard rolls his eyes annoyed with the prince's stubbornness. "Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves; your pride will be your downfall. You stand here in the presence of one of the few in Middle Earth who can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond."

Thorin's narrow gaze moves to look at the Satyr's eyes fly to his from looking at the horizon. He asks with his eyes, and she blinks nodding showing surety all will be fine. He sighs meeting the elf's gaze, clenching his jaw as he reaches into his fur overcoat and withdrew the folded map left to him by his father. He swallowed, steeling his nerves as he takes a step forward.

"Thorin, no," Balin says, placing a hand on his arm. Thorin brushes it off, handing with his other hand the parchment to the elf.

"Erebor? What is your interest in this map?" Elrond's eyes recognize the lonely mountain image.