Thorin, Bofur, Bombur, Bifur (9)

The dwarves were sleeping soundly, and somehow managed to make the most of their poor sleeping quarters as it were, but now strange things were happening. When the four dwarves woke up, they were expecting to wake up on cold stone slabs, not lush and soft grass. Thorin was the first to wake up. Looking around, it didn’t even take a moment before he noticed that something was terribly off about this entire thing. Rushing over to the others, he shook them awake. “What in the world is going on here?” Bifur stated, and Bombur and Bofur tried to come alive with bleary eyes. Once they yawned themselves to life and rubbed whatever sleep they’d had out of their eyes, they looked around. And saw it. The green expanse of the grasslands in front of them. No Great Hall nor a foggy Citadel. Then they realized something else. “Where is Gandalf?” Bofur asked the others. “He should be here by now! Unless he has gone and gotten himself lost in whatever it is that has happened!” the dwarf frantically looked around. Off to the side, they could see the trail they’d been following the previous day, and not long after this, they heard the soft thuds of footsteps, and spun about. “Gandalf! We were so worried that we had lost you to whatever sorcery was that castle!” Thorin said. The wizard chuckled. “Ah, worry you not, Thorin, I am quite fine. As I did tell you, this phenomenon only happens in very select times, and we may never see it again.” Gandalf continued, before moving to follow the trail. Bofur stopped him. “Where did that trunk go? And the bag? Do you have the scripture that you found?” He’d imagined that it was of great importance to the wizard, and was worried that that too, had disappeared. “Ah,  that. What I found is in safe storage now, Bofur, and I’ve made the arrangements to see them relocated.” Bofur continued to look at the wizard, with a look that nearly turned into a glare. “No, I have not yet found anything of value about this castle, but I assure you. If I do, you’ll be the first to know.” He patted the dwarf on his shoulder before leaving for the trail. “Well, I do believe it is time we be off now!” he nodded back to the dwarves, that started scurrying to the trail. Gandalf took the rear, and looked at the area one last time. “Such a shame, the tragedy that occurred here..” the wizard grumbled, shook his head, before turning his gaze onward, towards The Shire.

Thorin, Bofur, Bombur, Bifur (8)

Bofur shrugged, it mattered little to him. Though his stomach was rumbling a little, so he considered trying to hurry whatever Gandalf was doing so that they could leave sooner. “Might as well, I suppose. But I can’t read these scriptures. What exactly do you want me to help you with?” the dwarf asked with a puzzled expression on his face. “Well, I suppose you could look around and see if there’s anything worth packing in, like a smaller chest or so that we can carry with us, or just as something as a sack or bag would do.” The wizard replied. Bofur nodded, before disappearing out of the study to scour for such objects. He decided to look in places that were most likely to have such things, like old, smelly bedchambers and perhaps even where the kitchens usually were. What was surprising to him, while he was venturing through the keep, was that everything was left untidy. Not looted, but untidy. And there were no signs of battle either, or a sudden calamity that might’ve befallen whatever kind of people lived within these walls. He found a smaller trunk, and a bag that would be useful, and decided that it would have to do for now. He could always look for more later if he needed to. Returning into the study where he’d found Gandalf, he saw that the wizard was in full work of sorting parchments and books into what he assumed were useful and..Less useful stacks. “Here, I found these. There’s probably more but I figured it’s a start.” Bofur said, startling the busy wizard yet again. “Oh, thank you, Bofur. Very kind of you. I’m afraid there is not much to find here. Some of these scripture are human lore and very generalized, but I will make use of what you’ve given me.” Gandalf replied, walking over to accept the small trunk from the dwarf’s hands, and setting it down on a stool, and then started to put books into it, and smaller parchments. “Well, I suppose…I shall leave you to it. If you wish my aid any more, I will be in the Great Hall.” The dwarf said before slipping out the door, leaving the bag on a stack of books inside the study. The dwarves were dining and talking merrily around the hearth, and Bofur joined them in with happiness in thought. “I suppose we’ll be sleeping near the hearth tonight. No need to delve too much into this. We just need to wait until the fog properly clears and leave.” Thorin stated. Bifur and Bombur were nodding in agreement. Not long after did they roll out their bedrolls and at the very least attempt to make themselves comfortable where they were. But Gandalf never returned from the study that night. 

Thorin, Bofur, Bombur, Bifur (7)

After they were inside the keep, they were greeted by the sight of a long, great hall, greyed and worn by age and disuse, but with an intact ceiling at the very least. “Bifur, Bofur, could you please see if you can find anything to burn so we can set up a fire in the hearth?” Thorin asked the others, pointing in the direction of a hearth that was off to the far end of the hall. “And Bombur, well..You can see to cooking once the fire is lit.” Thorin said, and looked to Gandalf. “I suspect you will venture out through these halls to find out more?” The wizard nodded. “Yes. Though I must implore that you do not burn any scrolls or somesuch. I would very much like to read it, if possible.” Thorin nodded in agreement, and then continued to look around. “I pray that this little detour of ours does not take too long. We really should be halfway to Hobbiton as it is already.”  “Don’t worry,  Thorin. All things have their time, and you will be on your journey before you know it, I am sure.” Gandalf continued, before he disappeared down one of the hallways leading out from the Great Hall.

Thorin wasn’t as keen to leave things as is, so he took to making sure the hearth was still capable of being used and looking for whatever useful he could find for the fire. It didn’t take long before there was a fire roaring, and Bofur ventured out to find Gandalf in the hallways of the strange keep.  He came upon the grey-donned wizard in one of the studies that could be found on the higher floors of the keep, and gave a small knock upon the stone wall before stepping in. “I’d reckon Bombur will get the food on the way soon, I thought I might as well come and tell you.” Bofur stated slowly, before realizing that the wizard was nose-deep in an old, frail parchment. “Found anything of interest yet?” the dwarf continued into the room. The wizard did not yet meet his gaze, nor acknowledge his presence, even as he came to see the content of the parchment. The scripture, whatever it was, couldn’t be read by him, and his brows furrowed curiously. “Gandalf…?” “Ah, Bofur! My apologies.” The wizard startedly came to life and gave a small jump. “It seems there was some sort of tragedy here, but I’m having trouble actually determining what it is that happened.” Gandalf shook his head, and scratched along his bearded chin in thought.  “I don’t think it’s possible for me to find out what there is to know about this citadel within reasonable time, so I might as well take whatever scrolls and books that might pinpoint me in the direction of what happened. Bofur, would you mind helping me with this?”

Thorin, Bofur, Bombur, Bifur (6)

As they one by one made their way through the broken wood gate, they got to see the devastation of the buildings within. The roofs on most of the buildings were no longer there, and the towers of the actual keep were torn and worn by wind. “If we want the slightest bit of shelter, we should stay in the keep, for it seems there is still a roof on top of that.” Thorin said, and looked around. The Citadel looped inwards on itself, as it sloped upwards, and the keep was standing on the peak of the hill. Thorin took the lead, and Bifur and Bombur followed in silence. Bofur, curious by the place they were standing, decided to walk alongside Gandalf, albeit his legs had to step up to make up for their differences in stature. “So how come you even knew of this castle then, Gandalf? Is it some secret?” “No, no, it’s no such thing. It was through hearsay. People witnessing a strange fog enveloping the whole field, making it literally impossible to travel across.” The wizard smiled and chuckled a bit. “Oh, I don’t believe we will be here for a long while. As we are headed to the keep already, I will see if there are anything of value written anywhere. We can already clearly see that the entire citadel is desolate, and something must have caused it.”

Thorin, Bofur, Bombur, Bifur (5)

“Hethuost? On which map does this castle even exist? I’ve never even heard of this before!” Bofur said, who was well accustomed to  travelling this side of Eriador. “Hethuost, my dear dwarf, is a place you will never see on any map.” Gandalf huffed. “Not on any normal map, at the very least.” Gandalf stepped up to the wooden gate, and found a portion of it to have rotted and fallen apart, leaving the gate with an open gap. The dwarves could possibly fit, and Gandalf would have to bend over to make it through. “What do you mean, by not any normal map?” Bofur, curious by this, had followed the wizard. “If you take a look at the ancient maps from the First or Second Ages, it is possible that you would find this place. This is how old it is. And how fortunate we are to see it!” The wizard seemed a whole lot more thrilled than the dwarves did, and waved the others over. “Come come! We must see if there are any records inside of what have happened here!” “But shouldn’t we be heading towards The Shire, Gandalf? Aren’t we already late as it is?” Thorin asked. “You would throw away the chance to see a once in a lifetime mystery for that? I’m sure that your fellow dwarves can wait a little. And besides, we cannot travel around this entire citadel, it would take far too long. No, the myths have it that there are only certain times on certain days that you are even able to see a marvel such as this!” Gandalf continued, deeply engrossed by the wonder he was seeing. “Even as such, there are no books about the ruins of Hethuost, no no. Nobody ever found out what happened here! Come now, let’s see if we can’t go inside and find ourselves a place to set up camp and maybe do a bit of exploring.”

Thorin, Bofur, Bombur, Bifur (4)

“Gandalf? Gandalf the Grey? The wizard?” Thorin replied, and joining in the unison rattle of weaponry that was being lowered and dropped on the soft, lush grass.  “It seems like you have come upon quite an interesting place..” Gandalf continued, stepping closer to the dwarves,  even while  knowing they would probably not be able to see him. Muffled taps of his staff upon the grassy soil, and a small breeze passed the company by, that shifted and moved the fog. Another series of taps, a stronger breeze. After the fifth series of taps, a gust blew by that was strong enough to let them see each other, a handful of steps away from each other. “Well well, it finally worked as it should’ve. Do you believe me now?” The baffled dwarves slowly nodded, one by one. Gandalf took a step back to look up at the stone wall which the dwarves had at their backs. “Hm, this building here..I have heard of it, but I’ve never actually seen it..” The dwarves scrambled to their feet and stepped up to the wizard, turned around to look at the wall. It looked like any other stone wall you would see from buildings. But it was incredibly long. “So what is this place, Gandalf? Do you know? We’ve travelled here before and never come upon this before..There’s never been a structure here!” Thorin said.

Gandalf huffed and grumbled under his breath, all the while thinking. “I need to confirm my suspicions at first. Would you be willing to accompany around the wall?” He asked the others, and without waiting for an answer, he turned around and walked parallel to the wall. Then the wall turned, in a gentle, round curve. “It took you fellows a bit of time to come down from the mountain, but I had been informed this was the route you would be taking. I figured following this trail would be a safe wager.”  Around the curve and the wall suddenly stopped. And lead to a gated slope upwards, with small towers on each side of the gate. “Wait, what is this even? I can’t even see the entire thing..” Thorin grumbled, and took a few steps back, not quite fathoming what it was that he was looking at. Rat-tat-tat on the ground, and another gust swept by, causing the fog to be pushed off. What they then saw was a series of ruined, towers past the walls and the gate, and through the gates, ruins of buildings. Homes that once existed. “It seems, my friends”, Gandalf said, “That we have come upon the citadel of Hethuost.”

Thorin, Bofur, Bombur, Bifur (3)

“We are safe, but not without bruises!” Bofur replied, from a small distance to the left of Thorin. Bofur had gotten himself back on his feet and was brushing grass from his clothes, before he turned around and grasped the hand of his brother to try and help the fat dwarf back on his feet. “What in the world is going on here? We’ve passed through here many times before, and this has never happened!” he continued to tell Thorin. “Well, we cannot very well see what we have stumbled upon until this fog lightens and allows for proper light. I can hardly see the hand that is in the front of my face at the moment. We’ve found a wall, we might as well stay here until the fog lightens as it is unlikely for us to find our way back to the trail now.” And so they did. The small company did as best as they could, settling themselves down upon the ground next to the walls. They still had trouble even seeing each other, but it seemed that all of them were within decent hearing range, so they could at the very least speak with each other. It was also impossible to light a campfire, with how damp everything had gotten because of the fog. They would simply have to wait, no matter how dull a passage of time that was.

Bofur would bet his beard that his brother had already fallen asleep, after waiting for what was a good few hours. The waiting was wearing on his patience, but he could not find the peace of soul to try and get a little bit of rest while they waited. No, it seemed like a situation too disadvantageous to them, someone would have to keep a watch, or well…As well as you could keep watch in a fog like this either way. It didn’t take long after this realization of his before he heard footsteps. Low, muffled ones, but the rustling of grass definitely gave away that there was movement “Who goes there!” Bofur shouted out into the fog, catching Bombur by surprise, which gave of a yelp of a scream, and then leaned over to try and whack Bofur upside the head. Well, if he found him that was. “It seems that you have stepped into an utmost strange event, my dwarves, in this most impenetrable fog.” The deep voice spoke from across the fog. “You haven’t answered my question, stranger! Who are you? We cannot see you!” Bofur continued, hearing the familiar hiss of unsheathing weaponry among his comrades. “Easy, now, easy. I am but a friend who have been in search of you four for a few days now.” The steps moved closer. “My name is Gandalf.”

Thorin, Bofur, Bombur, Bifur (2)

It remained this way, until a loud grunt was heard, followed by the rustling of grass and in the end, a loud thud.  “Bombur!” his brother, Bofur, shouted out, and disappeared off the small trail the dwarves were following, only to crash into the stone wall himself, and fall back on the grass, with Bombur laying next to him, cursing and struggling to get himself straightened enough to try and stand up. Bifur, who had gruntingly tried to follow Bofur, was walking with slower steps, reaching out his hands to try and feel his way around before stepping into the same fate that had knocked his cousins over on the grass. “Thorin! There is something here!” the dwarf called back to Thorin, who still stood on the trail, with a tilt of his head and a mighty confused expression.

There was huff and scuff from Thorin before he decided to tread off the trail as well, taking but handful of steps before he came up to Bifur, who had raised his hands and was feeling around for structure in the fog. “What is the meaning of this?” Thorin asked his companion with furrowed brows. “It is there, and while we cannot see it while the fog is too thick, it feels like there is a wall of sorts. Stone, rough to the feeling.” But Bifur had hardly his hand stretched out an armslength! Thorin stood next to Bifur and stretched out his own hands. There it was, the wall. His hands felt the rough surface of the stone before he stretched them upwards, downwards. Then left and right. It seemed like there indeed was a wall. “Bofur, Bombur! Are you two safe?”, Thorin shouted into the fog.

Thorin, Bofur, Bombur, Bifur (1)

There were still a couple of dwarves that were heading to Bag End from different areas, but four notable ones had decided to take an unfamiliar route in descending the range of Blue Mountains. While Ori, Dori and Nori had decided to go for a straighter, perhaps much easier path, Thorin, with Bifur, Bofur and Bombur, was traversing down the southern range of the mountains. After a conference the dwarves had held at Thorin’s Halls in the northern part of the Blue Mountains, Thorin had traveled to the Southern range in hopes of employing more help for the oncoming journey, or atleast discuss it with his people. Though, without greater luck after getting agreement from Bifur, Bofur and Bombur, the four of them continued downward the southern mountains.

“What, in the name of Erebor, is the meaning of this fog?”, Thorin said. While they journeyed through the grasslands, the weather had gotten increasingly worse and the blue, sunny sky had greyed over, and a thick, almost tangible fog was sweeping in over the green fields.  Within moments, it had grown so hard to see, that the company did not know what they were stepping into. “We need to tread carefully, and not wander too far, for we do no longer know which direction we are going!”, Bofur told Thorin who was trudging along in the lead of the group. “However, if we proceed in along this trail, we should be able to see Hobbiton within a few days.” But by every step they took, the fog grew thicker and thicker, until they could no longer see their own booted feet touch the grass.

Dori, Nori and Ori

By dawn the ship had reached the other side of the river, but Dori, Nori and Ori had not manage to get any information out of the hooded men. They had decided to leave them tied up and gagged in Ori’s hiding place, in the hopes that no one would find them before the ferry started back for Grey Havens. The brothers celebrated their victory with some bread and cheese that they had brought from the inn in Grey Havens, while walking through the village. Ori stopped dead when they walked by the stables. ”We should get some ponies!” 

”No, we don’t need them,” Dori said. ”There’s no more than a days walk between the villages south of the mountains, we’ll be fine on foot.”

”But if we ride we can take the northern road and be in the Shire in two days! We have enough provisions for that, don’t we? We won’t need the inns!” Ori said eagerly. His older brother looked at him for a long time. ”I don’t know, Ori...” Dori said slowly. ”Camping in those lands can easily get very unpleasant, you heard Gandalf.”

”Well take turns keeping watch. And we can all fight, and get away fast with the ponies. I’m sick of walking, Dori.”

”We do have a lot of walking ahead of us, brother. It’s a long way to Erebor. I’m with Ori on this one.” This time it was Nori who spoke, and once again his brothers turned their heads in surprise. ”You’re never with anyone on anything!” said Dori and started twirling his beard. ”As you will, brothers. By my beard if anything happens!”

”It’s a good looking beard,” Ori said, laughing. And so, Dori, Nori and Ori bought themselves three little brown ponies and started the last of the first part of their journey, their way to Hobbit land. 

Dori, Nori and Ori

A few hours later the inn and Grey Havens was behind them, and the brothers were standing on deck of the midnight ferry that would take them across the water. Dori was using a whetstone to sharpen his blade while whistling along with the tunes from Nori’s flute. Ori stood some twenty feet away, leaning on the railing. He was looking up at the clear, star strewn sky, trying to remember the Lonely Mountain and the halls of his ancestors. He had only been a young boy when the dragon came, and did not remember much from that life. The Blue Mountains were his home now, but he knew how much this quest meant to his older brothers. Ori turned his head to look at them, when he saw something moving out of the corner of his eye. Then several things happened at once, making Ori throw himself behind the big pile of wooden crates next to him. There was a loud crash and a sudden flash of light and the few people on deck started screaming and running to take refuge down below. The music from Nori’s flute stopped, and the flute fell to the wooden floor with a clatter, and  Nori found himself with a hooded man holding a blade to his throat behind him. Another hooded figure walked up to Dori and spoke something that Ori could not make out, but Dori dropped his own sword and found himself in the very same situation as his brother. The crash and flash of light seemed to derive from a broken oil lamp a few feet from Ori, and it was now spreading its flames across the wooden deck. Ori peered out at his brothers from his fort of crates, wondering what to do. ”Where’s the third one?” one of the hooded men demanded of Dori. ”Who are you?” said Nori. ”What do you want?” said Dori. ”I want you to tell me where your brother is,” said one of the hooded men, slowly. ”And why should I do that?” Dori said with defiance in his voice. Ori found his slingshot under his cloak, and considering the risks, he took it out. It was the only weapon that would work if he did not want to reveal himself, and thankfully, the only weapon he was really good with. From his hiding place he could make out more hooded men, waiting to capture him should he show himself. Judging from the conversation there seemed to be a price on their heads, but Ori was unable to distinguish on who’s orders or why. He needed to free his brothers before anyone found and captured him. Ori loaded his slingshot with a metal ball the size of a chicken egg, and aimed through the slit from which he had been spying. It hit the man holding Dori clean on the forehead, causing him to fall and drop his blade. He did not get up. Dori did not waste any time, he lunged for his own blade and started fighting the other hooded men. Ori could count eight still on their feet, and after he had freed Nori from his capturer one went down after the other. It did not take long for the brothers to turn their would-be capturers into captives, and that was how Ori for the first time saved his brothers with weapon and not wit.

Dori, Nori and Ori

”Gandalf... the Grey?” Ori whispered, looking at Nori. 

”It has been too long,” Dori said, ”but... what are you doing here?”

”Oh, I’m just checking in on everyone in the company, making sure your trip to the Shire goes well,” said the wizard in his old, cheerful voice. ”You seem to be doing alright so far, though I don’t believe I have met your brothers, Dori.”

”Nori, at your service!” said Nori. 

”Ori, at your service!” said Ori.

Gandalf smiled down at them. ”What a pleasure. Now, how is the traveling so far? The mountains have treated you well, I trust?”

”Indeed, but we are crossing the river tonight, and we from now on we are traveling through unknown territory for us,” Dori said. Ori took out his map and spread it out on the table before the grey wizard. ”We are taking the midnight ferry from Grey Havens, and then we are continuing on foot for the Shire. We have not decided if we are to pass the these mountains north or south,” he said, pointing to the map. The wizard surveyed the three brothers thoughtfully before he responded. ”The southern road is much longer, as you know, but it is also lined with villages all the way to the Shire. However, north of these mountains you will not find a single village until you reach Hobbiton, only wild lands and possibly hostile mountain folk.”

”So the short way may also be the long way, depending on what will meet us there,” said Nori, turning everyones heads - for it was a rare enough thing for Nori to engage in conversation rather than playing his flute. ”You are quite right, young master dwarf,” said Gandalf. ”I do believe you all have your wits about you, and if there is nothing you would ask of me at the moment I shall take my leave. I will see you all in the Shire.” The brothers finished their meal, preparing for what would turn out to be a much longer night than any of them had expected.