Coming Home

In a Pickle

    It was pouring. Or at least it was drizzling, but none the less it was raining. And raining extremely hard.

   Everyone was soaked through to the bone, and their supplies were just as wet. Each raindrop felt like rock had been tossed down from the sky to mark their cloaks. Shivering in the damp air, Authora looked back at the hobbit. He was dripping wet, curly hair was plastered to his small round face. She pitted him, he looked miserable. Listening to everyone else bemoaning the weather, complaining about the clouds, the insufferable rain, and the fact that there wouldn't be a warm supper that night was starting to wear on her nerves. They were acting like children who insisted that everything go the way they want it to. Gandalf puttered along on his horse, smoking his pipe underneath his hood, watching, eyes rolling when comments were made about how wet someone was or how 'someone should figure out what to do with the weather'. He seemed uneasy, unsettled without all the mumbled remarks. She wondered why, could it be this rain or something else that made him so quiet?

"Here, Mr.Gandalf, can't you do something about this deluge?" Dori whined from the back of the company where he was shifting uncomfortably on his wet saddle.

"It is raining Master Dwarf. And it will continue to rain until the rain is done! If you wish to change the weather or the world, you should find yourself another wizard." Gandalf shot back.

"Are there any?" Bilbo asked, interest peaked at this statement.

"What?"

"Other wizards?"

"There are five of us,"Gandalf stated,"The greatest of our order is Saruman, the White. And then there are the two Blue Wizards...though I have quite forgotten their names."

"And who is the fifth?"

"Well, that would be Radagast, the Brown."

"Is he a great wizard, or is he more like you?" The hobbit asked innocently.

She snorted, great wizard indeed! Gandalf was a greater wizard than any of these dwarves probably realized, he had done so much for middle earth.

"Well," Gandalf paused, half-offended,"I think he is a great wizard...in his own way. He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others. He keeps careful watch over the vast forest lands to the East, and a good thing too. For always evil will look to find a foothold in this world."

She nodded as the hobbit did not to press for more of an explanation.

There were few wizards in the world who she felt were really helpful, Gandalf being one of them.

Later that afternoon, they came to a large stream twisting and crashing across the path in front of them. Swollen from the heavy rains she glared at the dark water, it gurgling loudly as it flowed by, farther down she spotted rapids, the water crashing against the rocks was audible even with the thunder and lightning. They stopped in front of it, searching it's darkness for a place to cross. Thorin did not want to leave the road, it was their hope to cross the mountains using it. Urging his horse into the fast flowing waters, he led the way across holding tightly to the reigns of his pony. The others followed cautiously, their ponies whinnying nervously as the cold water hit their legs with a 'whoosh'. Bilbo was frightened, she could see it in his eyes, how he stiffened up with fear, back ridged, he hated any water that flowed. It was not common for hobbits to learn how to swim, even with the Brandywine river flowing right through and past many of the hobbits towns. She would have liked to cross with him had she not been at the end of the line with the two brothers. They were trying to encourage the timid pack pony that the water wasn't all the frightening, it was a stubborn creature she was sure had a donkey somewhere in it's ancestory. With a small shove, the boys pushed her towards the water, causing beast to panic. She bolted, just in the wrong direction if she wanted to avoid the water. Into the stream she went, the whites of her eyes showing as she realized her mistake. The current caught her, causing things head to go under.