//------------------------------// // Chapter Four: A Short Rest // Story: The Hobbit: Third-Age Generation // by PlymouthFury58 //------------------------------// Chapter Four: A Short Rest True as Izzy discovered, she had found the troll hoard of the former trolls, and the company wasted no time in exploring, more pillaging the pillaged. "What's that stench?" Bofur groaned. "It's a troll hoard," Gandalf replied. "Be careful what you touch." Right as he spoke, Pipp stepped one of her front hooves into something squishy, not to mention with a rank. Soon, something dripped from overhead right onto her head. "Ugh!" she groaned. "What now?" Zipp moaned, familiar with her sister's habits. "It's in my mane!" The others paid no attention to Pipp's most ridiculous plight, for they, and the ponies, were all more entranced by all the excess plunder and treasury. In one corner, Bofur, Nori, and Gloin, soon joined by Izzy, were looking over a small pile of gold coins. "Seems a shame to leave it lying around," said Bofur. "Agreed," added Gloin. "Nori, get a shovel." "What are you going to do?" Izzy asked. "We're going to make what's called a long-term deposit. Basically, we leave some of these coins behind here, and we then come and retrieve them when-if we return." In another back area, Thorin, Gandalf, Hitch, and Zipp had found a rack of weaponry: all strangled with cobwebs and in need of a good dusting. Hitch picked out a sword, or more caught it on his head after he lost his grip on it. Zipp helped him up. "Doesn't this seem a little big to you?" she asked. Hitch picked up the sheath, before taking out the sword itself: the blade itself was untouched by the unkemptness of the cave, for it shone like fresh-shining silver, though the hilt had a slight blackening to it that was shared with the blade's edges. After admiring at it for a short while, Hitch felt something about the sword. "That's odd," he said. "It feels lighter now, like it recognizes its new owner, or something." Zipp was intrigued now, and then picked out a bow and quiver: the bow was fashioned of black yew wood, and in the quiver was a singular arrow, though broken in two at the neck. "Hey Izzy," Hitch called. "Come here and check out these weapons." "Sorry, I can't. I'm helping Gloin make a long-term deposit." "Hey Gandalf," Zipp called over. "I found this here bow, but the only arrow here is broken at the shaft." Gandalf took out the pieces, looked them over with wide eyes, and from the glow of his staff the pieces were reformed once again. He then handed it back to Zipp. "I have a feeling about this arrow," she said, holding it in her hoof. "Suppose you could help me get this stuff on?" Suddenly, but confusingly unintentionally, it was like the bow and quiver understood the plight of their new master and obeyed to fit her correct size. "There's magic in these weapons," she smiled. Hitch's sheath now fit warmly along his body, and he deposited the sword back into it, mostly for a rest. Presently, Pipp came over and checked out a shield that was just her size. Strange though: it was the dustiest looking thing among the rack, but despite that Pipp seemed enchanted by it; it slipped along her hoof like it was a nighttime blanket, comfy and roomy. She then noticed another sword. She unsheathed it, and was enamored. "This'll be perfect for Sunny!" Thorin picked out two swords in particular, the longer of which he handed to Gandalf. "These swords were not made by any troll," Thorin analyzed. "Nor by any smith among men," Gandalf added. He then looked to Pipp's shield. "These here swords, along with that shield, were forged in Gondolin, by the High-Elves of the First Age." At the mention of elves Thorin began to replace the sword in his hands. "You could not wish for a finer blade!" Gandalf halted him. Thorin paused, before unsheathing the sword. While his prejudice with elves still stood, he could not deny himself the pleasure of such an enamoring and splendid blade. At last, the company felt their plunder of the plunder was satisfied. "What are you guys doing?" Zipp asked to Izzy, Gloin, Bofur, and Nori. "We're making a long-term deposit!" Izzy replied with pride. "Let's get out of this foul place," Thorin announced. "Come on, let's go. Bofur, Gloin, Nori, Izzy." "Do you think she could use a weapon?" Hitch asked, passing by. "I think she can handle herself on her own. She's a unicorn after all." Hitch remained still puzzled, but humored himself as he followed out. Gandalf's eye caught something underneath a pile of leaves, that being a small sheathed dagger. Sunny had waited outside with some remaining dwarves on watch, and Pipp was the first to emerged from the hoard. "Hey Sunny!" she called, nearly tripping on a tree root. "Woah, what did you find?" Sunny asked, admiring the weapons her friends found. "We found these here cool-looking weapons, and I figured you could use one too." She then handed the sword to her wide-eyed friend, though Sunny was reluctant, even if it looked a sword of such elegance. "I'd take if I were you," Hitch said from the cave's mouth. "You already have one!" Pipp called back. "I know, but I am looking to fight before I die." Soon, Sunny claimed the sword for her own, slipping it seamlessly over her shoulder. "What would dad say if he saw me now?" she sighed gravely. "Though I never met him, I'll bet he would be more proud of you than ever before," Pipp smiled. "But this goes against everything he taught me. Everything Princess Twilight stood for. I don't know if I can make this journey's end." Pipp sighed. She was conflicted, for she knew that fighting was not in Sunny's character, but she knew that this world was not as kind as the one they hailed from. They had only been on the road for close to a week, but now home felt so much farther away. "Maybe not, but I for one am going to give it a rowdy good try." Pipp hesitated. "Regardless of what crawls into my mane." Sunny then noticed what looked like a small beetle emerge from the top of her friend's no longer overly-pristine mane, before it scurried off quickly and quietly out of sight into the undergrowth. "Say Gandalf," Hitch asked. "Anything else we should know about these weapons?" "Since they are of elven make," Gandalf replied, "they will glow a shade of blue whenever orcs are nearby." "Is it too late to say that I have no experience wielding a sword?" "Myself as well?" Bilbo added. "And I hope neither of you have to. But if you do, remember this: true courage is not knowing when to take a life, but when to spare one." Zipp's ears suddenly perked up. "I hear something," she said. "Me too," Pipp added. "Though it's faint." "Thumping feet, creaking oak-wood, rustling leaves. Okay...now the approaching sounds are increasing...I would say, due west." Sure enough, the entire company was on alert, and after seeking shelter within the undergrowth and foliage of the trees. "Stay together!" Gandalf shouted. "Hurry now! Arm yourselves!" The dwarves unveiled their weapons, as well as the ponies: Zipp hovering upright behind Pipp as she quivered greatly behind her shield, arrow drawn. Izzy stood between her earth-pony friends who had also drawn their swords. Soon, whatever the thing that was approaching emerged, in the form of a dirtied brown old man, another wizard, Sunny figured, riding a wooden cart being pulled by a collection of mushed rabbits. "THIEVES! FIRE! MURDER!" he cried. "Radagast," Gandalf smiled, recognizing his cousin. "It's Radagast the Brown!" "Well, I can see that," Hitch sighed, sheathing his sword. "To be honest," Zipp said. "I didn't expect much." "He seems a pleasant fellow," Izzy beamed. "What on earth are you doing here?" Gandalf asked. "I was looking for you, Gandalf. Something's wrong. Something's terribly wrong," Radagast declared ominously. "Yes?" "Just give me a minute. Um…Oh! I had a thought and now I've lost it. It was…it was was right there, on the tip of my tongue! Oh! It's not a thought at all! It's a silly old… stick insect." Sure enough, Gandalf pulled out a small stick insect that had been living undisturbed inside Radagast's throat, much to the disgust of Bilbo, most of the dwarves, and the ponies apart from Izzy, who took great curiosity in the little bug. "The Greenwood is sick Gandalf," Radagast said, with great worry. "A darkness has fallen over it. Nothing grows any more, at least nothing good. The air is foul with decay. But worst are the webs." "Webs? What do you mean?" "Spiders, Gandalf. Giant ones. Some kind of spawn of Ungoliant, or I am not a Wizard. I followed their trail. They came from Dol Guldur." "Dol Guldur? But the old fortress is abandoned." "No, Gandalf, it is not. A dark power dwells in there...such as I have never felt before. It is the shadow of an ancient horror. One that can summon the spirits...of the dead. I saw him, Gandalf. From out of the darkness...a Necromancer has come." Radagast then looked to Gandalf, as if having emerged from a deep, hypnotic trance. "Sorry." "Try a little old Toby. It'll help setting your nerves." Gandalf then pulled out his pipe and filled it for his stressed cousin. "In, and out." When Radagast's fill looked complete, Gandalf continued. "Now, the Necromancer. Are you sure?" Radagast did not respond. Instead he took out a wrapped weapon from inside his cloak, his hands shaking. "That is not from the world of the living." Zipp's ears then picked up again. "Okay," she said, eyes widening. "This time it means harm. Harm to us specifically." Soon a low-sounding howl was heard off in the distance. "Was that a wolf?" Bilbo asked, fearful. "Are there wolves out there?" "Wolves?" Bofur responded. "No, that is not a wolf." Once again on cue, the creature that made the dreaded howl came charging out right on top of Ori. Dwalin then took a swing at its jaws, but not before another one emerged having lied in wait. This one made a beeline for Pipp, except it jaws became caught on her shield's edges, giving enough of a distraction for Thorin to slash and hack it, before soon both creatures lay slain. "Warg scouts!" Thorin raged. "Which means an orc pack is not far behind!" "Orc pack?" Bilbo said, wide eyed. "Orc pack?!" Sunny repeated, more fearful. "Who did you tell about your quest, beyond your kin?" Gandalf pressed. "No one." "Who did you tell?!" "No one, I swear!" Thorin replied, more hard-shelled than before. "What in Durin's name is going on?" "You are being hunted." "Great, it's like being back in Zephyr Heights," Zipp grumbled. "Hey, at least we cleared that one up without anypony getting hurt!" Pipp retorted. "Never mind about the night we met," Hitch interjected. "We have to get out of here!" "We can't! We have no riding ponies!" Ori cried, emerging from where the riding ponies were hid. "They bolted!" "I'll draw them off," Radagast declared. "These are Gundabad wargs," Gandalf dismissed. "They will outrun you." "These are Rhosgobel rabbits!" Radagast stood firm. "I should like to see them try." And so, the company set out across the fields, with only the howling of wargs and screeches or orcs, barely drowning the humorous Radagast as he mushed his rabbits right within firing distance, enjoying every moment of his outlandish diversion. "HAHA!" he laughed. "COME AND GET ME!" The company watched from behind the shards of rocks, waiting for Gandalf's watchful eyes. "Come on!" he said at last. "Stay together." One by one, the company followed closely behind Gandalf as they rushed across the fields, trying their mightiest to stay ahead and out of sight from the hunting dwarf pack; keeping under the shades of the boulders. While the ponies were the only quadrupeds of the company, their short-statured legs had them trailing at the very rear of the company. The closest call came when Ori nearly overshot into the pack's view, but Thorin caught him back just in time. "All of you!" Gandalf shouted. "Come on, come on! Quick!" "Where are you leading us?" Thorin asked with suspicion. "Never mind where, as long as it holds safety!" Pipp retorted, losing her patience with Thorin's stubbornness. Izzy however, in her absentmindedness, wandered right into the middle view of the pack. Zipp rushed her back, however she her hearing picked up an oncoming danger. Right atop the boulder the company hid under, was a singular warg-ridden orc. Thorin peered to Kili, who stood out and fired an arrow right at the mounted orc. It stumbled down, and the dwarves took multiple swings before they died, rather noisy swings and slashes. "That's not good," Zipp's ears perked up. "The orcs have been drawn to our location. They're heading this way!" "Move! Run!" Gandalf cried. The company then rushed out into the open and exposed fields, with the orc pack hot on their trail. Though in the glare of the sunlight, only the brightening glow from Pipp's shield was shown. "Hey, look!" Izzy chimed. "You're shield's glowing blue!" "There they are!" Gloin shouted. "This way! Quickly!" Gandalf called. Eventually the company became cornered, with the orc pack closing in on all sides. "There's more coming!" Kili shouted. "Kili! Shoot them!" Thorin shouted back. On fearful instinct Sunny and Hitch drew their swords, quivering in fear, even with Fili and Oin standing their ground beside them. "We're surrounded!" Fili shouted. "Zipp!" Kili cried. "Help me out here!" "I only have the one arrow!" Zipp cried back. Suddenly, a warg came leaping out right on top of Ori, and immediately Zipp took out and fired her own arrow, piercing its thick skull and killing it on site. "Waste of a good arrow! Now I'm fresh out!" Pipp looked over to her frustrated sister, and was greatly surprised. "No you aren't. There's still one more left." "What?" Zipp felt back into her quiver, and took out the very same arrow that was found. "How's that possible?" A screech from a faraway orc took her by surprise, then immediately fired right into its chest, dropping dead on impact. "There it is again!" Sure enough, the arrow was rested right back in its quiver like it never left. Zipp gazed longingly at the little sharpened stick. "I think Middle-Earth weapons are enchanted." "What a prize they will be to everypony back home!" Pipp smiled, before her face immediately became sour. Zipp came close to her younger sister, lifting her head to eye level. "Hey, we will make it home. We're all here for you." Pipp meekly smiled, not at all reassured at protection the journey was sure to be fraught with, but if she was to be with her sister and friends every step of the way, then maybe it will be at least tolerable. "Where's Gandalf?!" Fili cried in dismay. "He's abandoned us!" Dwalin raged. "That Izzy's wandered off again!" Hitch added. The company all stood their grounds, shaking but firm at the surrounding orc pack, minus one wizard and unicorn respectively. Then a pair of voices called out from underneath the nearest boulder. "This way, you fools!" "Come on, there's an opening down here!" The company looked to see Gandalf and Izzy poking their heads out from an underground pathway, and immediately they all began rushing downwards to safety. "...nine, ten..." Gandalf counted off the dwarves and Bilbo. "One, two...three..." Izzy counted off her friends and herself. "Kili! Run!" Thorin shouted to his nephew. "Zipp! Let's go!" Pipp shouted to her sister. Kili looked back to his uncle, before holding his arrow and ducking under, Pipp following suit behind Thorin. Zipp fired her arrow once more, before swooping through the crack and landing unscathed, the arrow once again returned to its quiver. Suddenly, a horn was heard on the horizon by all, and the trampling of war horses, followed by many hacks, slashes, and an orc's carcass thrown down into their hiding hole with an pierced in its chest. Thorin took out the arrow, and looked at it with familiar disgust. "Elves," he sneered, before throwing it to the stone. "That was the elves?" Pipp asked. Thorin responded by only a glare of resentment. "I cannot see where the pathway leads," Dwalin called from another crack in the cave. "Do we follow it, or no?" "Follow it of course!" Bofur hastily replied. "I think that would be wise," Gandalf said in the back. "Whatever the wizard says," Izzy said to her friends, before trotting off in Gandalf's pace while Thorin's suspicious look greatened. The valley was greatly thin, and the ponies had the most difficulty traversing the rugged but smooth territory. Bilbo was suspicious also of Gandalf's intentions, but not so much as angered as Thorin. "Izzy," Sunny asked. "Where are we going?" "Hm?" Izzy had been humming to herself the whole way through. "I don't think Gandalf told me. He just said, 'We must bring the others here. Now!'" she replied in her best imitation of Gandalf. Soon, after many grumblings from the dwarves, the company finally emerged from the ravine to a cliff-face overlooking a splendid valley of beautiful trees growing under a sparkling waterfall. The focused feature was actually of the building that the trees surrounded, and though its architecture was unfamiliar to the ponies, none of them could deny how breathtaking and homely it looked and felt. "The Valley of Imladris," Gandalf said. "In the common tongue it is known by another name." "Rivendell," Bilbo sighed. "How do you know of this place Bilbo?" Hitch asked. "I've heard legends and passing rumors in the Shire, mostly on my walking holidays." This was the first time on the journey that Hitch could recall Bilbo ever feeling so calm and at peace with himself and the world. "It is a beautiful place," Pipp beamed brightly. "The elves made all this?" "It is the last homely house, east of the sea," Gandalf responded, sensing an ease in Pipp's voice on the subject of elves. "It is Lord Elrond's greatest achievement, not only just for his kin." And of course, Thorin was the one who made his grievances vocal, and once again to the gray wizard. "This was your plan all along?" he sneered. He then turned to Izzy. "And you blindly went along with it?" "Gandalf made the elves seemed like such pleasant folks," Izzy shrugged. "You would have us seek refuge with our enemy?" "You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield," Gandalf argued. "The only ill-will to found in this valley is that which you bring yourself." "You think the elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us." "Of course, they will. But we have questions that need to be answered. If we are to be successful this will need to be handled with tact, and respect, and no small degree of charm, which is why you will leave the talking to me." "Probably for the best," Hitch stated. The company then traversed down the valley towards the entryway of Rivendell. The ponies were the most entranced by the many sights and feelings the place carried with it, most of all the calm, peaceful, serenity, and fairness. The place also looked as though the natural beauty was meant to be hewn within: the elven-made buildings had many intertwining branches, like the elves of Rivendell also found beauty within the world they were born into, and did not mean to forget it all. Presently, one of the elves of Rivendell approached the arriving company: he had long kept black hair, complementing his violet-shaded robes, and though his ears were pointed, like Bilbo's, the ponies felt like the features of elves were indeed the most wise and fare of all beings. "Mithrandir," he greeted to Gandalf. "Ah, Lindir," Gandalf returned. "Keep sharp," Thorin whispered to Dwalin. "Mithrandir?" Sunny asked. "What was that about?" "Shh!" Izzy hissed. "I want to hear this." Lindir was speaking to Gandalf in what Sunny could only figure to be elvish. "I must speak with Lord Elrond," Gandalf said, not in elvish. "My Lord Elrond is not here," Lindir replied, also not in elvish. "Not here, then where is he?" Lindir was about to respond, until the horn calling from earlier came calling back once again, followed by the rushing stamps of strong horses, and soon the elven war party came into view, charging right for the company. "They're uh, coming pretty quick," Pipp said, worried. "Close ranks!" Thorin cried. The company stood steadfast in closed formation, weapons drawn in preparation for any open hostility towards them. Of course, only Izzy was undaunted by the threat the company believed the elves posed towards them, simply smiling and waving at the surrounding elven soldiers. Eventually, the elves halted, and their leader made his appearance at last: he shared most of the key elven features as Lindir, except his face was more aged with many of a long experience. "Gandalf," he greeted. "Lord Elrond," Gandalf smiled. "That's Elrond?" Pipp whispered. "You expected more?" Zipp smirked. Elrond and Gandalf continued to speak elvish for a short period, with Izzy continuing to idolize the very sounding nature of the non-understandable language. Though it was clear from the fluctuations in their voices that Gandalf and Elrond were old friends. "Strange for orcs to come so close to our borders," Elrond noted, with a hint of amusement. "Something or someone has drawn them near." "Ah, that may have been us," Gandalf responded. Thorin then approached Elrond. "Welcome, Thorin, son of Thrain," he greeted, genuinely smiling. "I do not believe we have met," Thorin responded, rather dryly, but not as an insult. "You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew Thror when he ruled under the mountain." "Indeed? He made no mention of you." Elrond then spoke again in elvish, Izzy again enamored at the sounding of the words she had yet to understand. "What is he saying? Does he offer us insults?!" Gloin spat. "Gloin! Wait!" Zipp halted. "No, master Gloin, he is offering you food," said Gandalf bluntly. That got the dwarves attention, and they huddled together in whispered discussion. "I say we take this opportunity while it stands," Zipp whispered. "We're all weary, anyway," Sunny added. "And starving." The company turned back to Elrond, having made up their minds. "Very well," Gloin spoke up. "In that case lead on." The company were all soon sat at a table of a prepared dinner. Elrond, Gandalf, Thorin, Hitch, Zipp, Pipp, and Sunny were seated at the height of the table, while the others were all spread along both sides. "Try it," Dori egged to his brother. "Just a mouthful." "I don't like green food," Ori complained. Dwalin was searching aimlessly through the greenery of their feast "Where's the meat?" "Have they got any chips?" Izzy was seated between Bombur and Bifur, gleefully stuffing her mouth with any of the food that was in hoof's length. "You should try this, it's really good," she smiled, before stuffing an entire stack of greens into her mouth. "My combibents to the fef!" Pipp was busying herself with the beautiful tones and calming sounds, findiing serenity like no other, while Oin stuffed his ear trumpet with a napkin, much to the merriment of the other dwarves. The ones who sat nearest Elrond gave him their found weapons for examination. "This is Orchrist," he analyzed with wonder. "The Goblin-cleaver. A famous blade forged by the High Elves of the West, my kin. May it serve you well." He handed it back to Thorin, who looked to it with intrigue, then looked to Gandalf's sword. "This is Glamdring, the Foehammer, sword of the King of Gondolin. These were made for the Goblin wars of the First Age." Bilbo had been listening in on their conversation, and took a glimpse at his own sword, before Balin stopped him. "I wouldn't bother laddie. Swords are named for the great deeds they do in war." "What are you saying, my sword hasn't seen battle?" Bilbo asked, incredulous. "I'm not actually sure it is sword," Balin replied regrettably. "More of a letter-opener, really." Pipp heard Balin's response to Bilbo, and feeling of the same plight decided not to reveal the splendid shield she found. Elrond then turned to the bow and arrow. "This is Belthronding, 'The-strong-stiff-thing' and this is Dailir. They were long thought lost following the War of Wrath." "What happened, during the War of Wrath?" Sunny asked, reproachfully. "I was not a part of it, so I cannot say young one. What I can say, is that it brought the First Age to an end." Sunny looked back to the food, unsure of the emotions she was feeling. This world had so much rich history, but most of it was cloaked in violence. "About the arrow, Dailir you called it," Zipp spoke up. "For some reason, while it's the only arrow I got, it somehow always returns even after from firing at a long distance." "That is because it is unerring and ever-returning. It never misses its mark and never leaves its master, or in this case mistress, to fend for herself." He handed them back to Zipp, who looked back on her finds with much greater admiration. "This is Dagmor, 'The-slayer-of-darkness," he analyzed Sunny's sword. "This used to belong to the man Beren, who carried it all throughout the wilds of Beleriand and to the steps of Angband." "Where's that?" Sunny asked, intrigued. "The fortress that layed behind the protection of Thangorodrim, for the Dark Lord Morgoth." Gandalf shivered. "What happened to him?" "He was defeated at the War of Wrath, and cast into the Lonely Void, where he remains." Sunny took back her sword with great uneasiness, growing pale at her own reflection in its glint. "How did you come by these?" Elrond asked to Gandalf. "We found them in a Troll-hoard," Gandalf replied. "On the Great East Road...shortly before we were ambushed by orcs." "And what were you doing on the Great East Road?" "Excuse me," Thorin interrupted, before shortly taking his leave of the table. "Thirteen dwarves, five ponies, and a halfling. Hm. Strange traveling companions, Gandalf," Elrond continued. "These are the descendants of the house of Durin," Gandalf interjected. "They're noble, decent folk. And they're surprisingly cultured. They've got a deep love of the arts. And the ponies are quite the colorful band as well." Hitch felt somewhat flattered, especially at the comment coming from Gandalf. He also felt like both he and Elrond were in cahoots on the subject of he and his friends' coming. Finally, Elrond took a glance at the sword that was claimed by Hitch, but also the longest, because Hitch and Gandalf could see the wonderment in his eyes. "My Lord," Hitch asked. "What is it?" "This is Anguirel," Elrond responded. "What about it peaks your interest, if you don't mind me saying," Sunny asked. "I don't mind, and it is appropriate to be inquisitive." Hitch glanced towards Sunny, not trying to catch anyone's attention. "In the common tongue it is known as 'Iron-of-the-fiery-star.' This is one of two swords forged by the dark elf Eöl, this he kept for himself, until it was stolen by his son, Maeglin before he and his mother, Aredhel fled to the refuge of Gondolin. Also thought to have been lost following the Fall of Gondolin." Hitch stared wide-eyed and opened-eared at Elrond's extensive knowledge. He had been around since when, definitely following the end of the First Age, whenever how long ago that was. "Its brother was given as a gift to the High King Thingol, before coming to Turin, son of Hurin. It was from that blade that fell Glaurung, father of the dragons, before it fell Turin." Elrond's voice had shifted to a sound of tragedy, and though Hitch was unsure of the history left-out, he understood the plight of sadness the history of the blades carried and said no more. He took back the sword, as he noticed the sound of the music had taken up the tragedy on Elrond's mind. The composition in the common tongue is known as "Of Turin Turambar": one of the more well-known tragedies of love, loss, manipulation, and betrayal. "Change the tune, why don't you? I feel like I'm at a funeral," Nori complained. "Did somebody die?" Oin asked, napkin still stuffed down his ear trumpet. "There's beauty in the music," Pipp retorted. "Beauty that you don't appreciate nor understand." "All right lads," Bofur piped up, voicing the complaints of the other dwarves, and climbing the table to Elrond's eye level. "There's only one thing for it." "Bofur: Ooohhhh, there's an inn, there's an inn, there's a merry old inn beneath an old gray hill, Dwarf chorus: 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 runs his bow, Now squeaking high, now purring low, now sawing in the middle. The landlord keeps a little dog that is mighty fond of jokes; When there's good cheer among the guests, He cocks an ear at all the jests, and laughs until he chokes." "Personally, I greatly enjoyed the beautiful elven music," Pipp said to Hitch, who also missed the serenity of Rivendell's finest, but could not help himself to enjoy the low-toned dwarven vocals. "They also keep a hornéd cow as proud as any queen; But music turns her head like ale, And makes her wave her tufted tail and dance upon the green. "And O! the rows of silver dishes and the store of silver spoons! For Sunday there's a special pair, And these they polish up with care on Saturday afternoons." By now, Izzy had joined in on the jig, tapping her hooves to the delightful amusement of Bifur and Bombur, while Sunny remained silent and fixated on her thoughts of claiming Dagmor. "The Man in the Moon was drinking deep, and the cat began to wail; A dish and a spoon on the table danced, The cow in the garden madly pranced, and the little dog chased his tail. The Man in the Moon took another mug, and then rolled beneath his chair; And there he dozed and reamed of ale, Till in the sky the stars were pale, and dawn was in the air. Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat: 'The white horses of the moon, They neigh and champ their silver bits; But their master's been and drowned his wits, and the Sun's be rising soon!'" So the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle, a jig that would wake the dead: He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune, While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon: 'It's after three!' he said. They rolled the Man slowly up the hill and bundled him into the Moon, While his horses galloped up in rear, And the cow came capering like a deer, and a dish ran up with the spoon." The tempo quickened, much to the annoyance of the elven musicians, especially after the dwarves began throwing their food all about the dining table. "Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle; the dog began to roar, The cow and the horses stood on their heads; The guests bounded form their beds and danced up on the floor. With a ping and a ping the fiddle-strings broke! the cow jumped over the Moon, And the little dog laughed to see such fun, And the Saturday dish went off at a run with the silver Sunday spoon. The round Moon rolled behind the hill as the Sun raised up her head. She hardly believed her fiery eyes; For though it was day, to her surprise they all went back to bed!" Later on into the evening, Thorin, Balin, Bilbo, Sunny, Zipp, Gandalf, and Elrond were in the Rivendell library, and of course Thorin refused to show his map to Elrond, much to Gandalf's growing hindrance. "Our business is no concern of elves," Thorin stated. "For goodness sake, Thorin," Gandalf sighed. "Show him the map." "It is the legacy of my people. It is mine to protect, as are its secrets." "You sound like my mom when she's addressing the press," Zipp remarked. "You make her sound almost unbearable," Sunny said. "That's only true during press conferences." "Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves," Gandalf sighed. "Your pride will be your downfall. You stand in the presence of one of the few in Middle-earth...who can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond." Bilbo looked to his pony companions with great impatience towards both Thorin and Gandalf. After some contemplation, Thorin finally gave in and handed the map to Elrond. "Thorin, no," Balin protested. "Let him have it, Balin," Zipp groaned, sharing Bilbo's impatience. Elrond took one glance at the map before his suspicions were aroused. "Erebor?" he said at last. "What is your interest in this map?" Thorin was about to reply, but Gandalf spoke up first. "It's mainly academic. As you know, this sort of artifact sometimes contains hidden text. You still read ancient Dwarvish, do you not?" Elrond took a short time analyzing the map, before something within caught his eye. "Cirth Ithil." "Moon runes?" Gandalf perked up. "Of course." "What are moon runes?" Sunny asked. "Ever inquisitive are you?" Gandalf complimented, while Sunny blushed with embarrassment. "Moon runes are system of writing created by the dwarves for hiding writings. An easy thing to miss." "Well, in this case, it is true," Elrond continued. "Moon runes can only be read by the light of a moon...and sometimes only of the same shape and season as the day on which they were written." "Can you read them?" Thorin asked, no longer overly protective of his family heirloom. "These runes were written on a Midsummer's Eve by the light of a crescent moon nearly 200 years ago. It would seem you were meant to come to Rivendell. Fate is with you, Thorin Oakenshield. The same moon shines upon us tonight." Elrond then led the party to an overlooking rock with a crystal-clear pedestal right at the forefront of the rock. The moon in question was a crescent glow, that shown brightly through the passing clouds as Elrond placed the map onto the pedestal, and the moon's glow made appear a secret writing that shown in the bright color of the moon itself. "What does it say?" Sunny asked. "'Stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole,'" Elrond read aloud. "Durin's Day?" Bilbo asked to Balin. "It is the start of the Dwarves' new year, when the last moon of autumn, and the first sun of winter appear in the sky together," Gandalf explained. Thorin took some long pondering thoughts on this new information. "This is ill news. Summer is passing. Durin's Day will soon be upon us." "We still have time," Balin chimed in. "Time?" Bilbo asked again. "For what?" "To find the entrance. We have to be standing in exactly the right spot at exactly the right time. Then, and only then, can the door be opened." "So this is your purpose, to enter the mountain?" Elrond mused. "What of it?" Thorin sneered. "There are some who would not deem it wise." "What do you mean?" Gandalf asked. "You are not the only guardian to stand watch over Middle-earth." The following day was uneventful, mostly because the dwarves were no longer wanted at the dinner table. Instead, they ate more than their fare share of food and drink of wine in their guestrooms, and laughing away at their own brand of humor and loudly belching to their own song and dancing, much to the chagrin of the elves. The ponies had taken to strolling about the place, taking in all the sights and feelings of the Valley. That evening, as the sun waned, Bilbo and Sunny were exploring the depths of the library, taking great input on the Shards of Narsil and a painting depicting the final duel between Isildur and Sauron, and though neither of them knew the full extent of their meanings, neither of them also knew of the other's focus on the golden ring on one of the black fingers. Later on, they were resting on a balcony, looking over the sunset, when a voice approached them from behind. "Not with your companions?" Bilbo and Sunny looked behind to see Elrond. "No, my friends know I'm here," Sunny stammered, still embarrassed to even face the famed elven lord. "I shan't be missed," Bilbo replied with a sigh. "The truth is that most of them don't think I should be on this journey." "Well, we do. Myself, Hitch, Zipp, Pipp, and Izzy. Gandalf as well." "Indeed?" Elrond amused. "I've heard that hobbits are resilient." "Really?" Bilbo looked up. "I've also heard they're very fond of the comforts of home." Bilbo looked around before making his response. "I've heard that it's unwise to seek the council of Elves. That they will only answer with 'Yes' and 'No'." Elrond looked down to the hobbit with an indiscernible expression, as Bilbo's feet began to grow cold. However, he then smiled, with Bilbo lightly chuckling, and then he placed his hand calmly onto Bilbo's shoulder. "You are very welcome to stay here, if that is your wish." Bilbo was flabbergasted at the offer, and he soon left to greatly ponder with his own thoughts. Elrond then turned to Sunny, who was still frozen in shock with him still standing over her. "My offer goes out to you, and your friends as well," he said. Sunny stood lost in thought, uncomplacent and unsure about this offering. "Well, to be honest," she stammered. "I'm uh...I don't know. I mean, I mean the best for my friends, not just the ones that came with me, you know? And if they need help retaking their homeland, and we happen to be skillful enough to assist, then we, at least I, will do my part." "And you are sure that your friends share this motive?" Sunny stopped in her stuttering. Were her friends really willing to help the dwarves on this quest? What if they were all thinking of nothing but themselves, not caring for the dwarves' plight, and Bilbo's? "I-y-yes?" "You sound unsure?" "I am, my lord." Though Sunny's insecurities were eating her heart out, Elrond returned the same smile he gave to Bilbo, and her burden was somewhat lifted. "You have chosen your friends well, do not forget that. They are special, as are you." Sunny looked up the the elven lord, seeing a new glint in his eyes. It was the glint of a father. "You remind me much of Arwen, my daughter." "Is she pretty?" "There are those who believe she is Luthien reincarnated. You are the same with your mother." "Wait-how'd-how-?" "You come from a world that is rife with such magic that I know not in this one. Long have Gandalf and I watched over your world, since its very beginning." Sunny's eyes lit up. "You have?! Then you seen-!" She stopped when Elrond's laughter filled her ears. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean...I just got excited and..." "You remind me so much of your father as well. I watched him particularly as he grew, bore and raised you, and when he passed." Sunny's memories of her father's passing resurfaced into her mind. The familiar unwanted lump in her throat returned, while she fought to keep back her tears. "My lord," she sniveled. "What do I do?" "You must look to your friends," Elrond consoled. "For they will not only give you light, but hope as well." While Sunny continued to wander the halls of Rivendell for the remainder of the evening, elsewhere Lindir was voicing his concerns to Elrond in elvish about the dwarves staying. Suddenly, Izzy rushed from around the corner stopping right in front of them beaming with great pride. Presently, Hitch and Pipp came rushing behind, out of breath. "Our apologies...my lord," Hitch panted. "It's just that...when she gets it...in her head...she can be..." "She can get lost in herself..." Pipp added. "More often than not...that's usually the case." "I was hoping you could teach me elvish," Izzy stated, still beaming wide. Lindir looked to Elrond, dazed in confusion, and apprehensive towards the unicorn before them. Elrond, who took a liking to young Izzy, simply smiled back. "I believe it is time you three prepared yourselves for dinner." A nearby splashing was heard, and Pipp was in time to cover Izzy's with her wing, right as Hitch covered her gaze with his hoof. Lindir on the other hand looked on in disgust at the sight before him: the dwarves, minus Thorin, were bathing in the springs right across the way, this time without their undergarments as well. "What are we looking at?" Izzy asked, still oblivious. "You don't want to know," Pipp replied shaking her head. "Why? Is there blood?" "Well, it's more along the lines of..." Hitch began, but stopped as the sickening feeling of hunger came into his stomach. "Yeah...you don't want to know," he said, now tightly gripping his eyelids shut. He then turned in the direction of what he felt was the way back towards the guestrooms, and while he trotted slowly, the girls blindly following in his hoof-steps, that did not stop him from stumbling right over the steps that led away from the unruly sight behind them. When Hitch did finally open his eyes, after landing flatly onto his back, he was taken aback with even more shock as Pipp stared down into his eyes with equal shock in hers. A light chuckle from Izzy brought their attentions back to Middle-earth. "What?" Hitch said defensively. "I think it's adorable," Izzy repleid, still beaming. "What-w-w-w-wha, what are you talking about?" "H-hey! Lord Elrond said dinner will soon be ready!" Pipp abruptly cried. "Y-yeah! I'm-I'm feeling hungry too!" And with that, and Izzy still smiling, the ponies rejoined the company to their own feast: a couple of greens while the dwarves ate cooked meat and sausages on a homemade campfire in their guestrooms, using of course their furniture as fuel. Presently, Bofur noticed a strain on the table that Bombur was sitting on for eating his dinner. "Bombur," he called, before tossing a sausage into Bombur's hand, right as the table finally gave way, with only the ponies, minus Izzy, and Bifur, laughing greatly into the evening. Sunny and Bilbo were a ways distance from their fool-hardy companions, taking a break from all the ruckus, when they heard and saw that Elrond and Gandalf were conversating again. "Of course I was going to tell you. I was waiting for this very chance," Gandalf said. "And really, I think you can trust that I know what I am doing." "Do you?" Elrond questioned. "That dragon has slept for 60 years. What will happen if your plan should fail, if you wake that beast?" "What if we succeed? If the Dwarves take back the mountain our defenses in the east will be strengthened." "It is a dangerous move, Gandalf." Bilbo and Sunny noticed a presence among them, and they turned back to see Thorin, who says nothing as well but gives them a look that wanted them to continue listening and not say another word. "It is also dangerous to do nothing," Gandalf continued. "Oh, come, the throne of Erebor is Thorin's birthright. What is it you fear?" "Have you forgotten? A strain of madness runs deep in that family. His grandfather lost his mind. His father succumbed to the same sickness. Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?" They then looked back again to see Thorin turned away from the conversation at hand, and the plight on his face was written all over. A new understanding had formed between the two, that the treasure hoard of Erebor will be as dangerous within the mind of anyone who might be weak-minded enough to succumb; but that surely would not happen, right? The vision nightmare of the thought was giving a great sickening feeling to Sunny, who turned uneasily away and headed past Thorin. "I just need to rest, that's all," she moaned. "Rest as much as you can," he said. "We set out at full light." He would not admit it to the others, least of all himself, but he had grown a like fondness for the ponies of Equestria. He still remained indecisively against Bilbo's part in the company, for his understanding of their burglar will come much later on the journey, when the light of hope will seem faded.