To Reclaim a Mountain, Chapter 1

The three siblings stood on the doorstep of a Hobbit hole.

“I hope we aren’t late.” Said the eldest with the gold mane of hair and an intricately braided mustache. 

“Nah. Gandalf told us to be here just after sunset. Didn’t he, Líli?” Said the middle sibling, with long dark hair and stubble on his chin, hardly a beard by dwarven standards.

“Yeah. And that’s his little symbol on the door, so stop worrying and knock will you?” Said the youngest (only by a few minutes), a female, with long brown hair and a small beard on her chin, as per usual for dwarven ladies.

“Alright, alright.” The eldest brother said, as he knocked on the round wooden door that lead into a small hill.

The three heard scuffling and muffled grumbling from behind the green oak door, and shared confused glances.

Until the door finally opened, and the eldest brother said, “Fíli.”

The middle said, “Kíli.”

And the youngest, “Líli.”

And they all finished at once with, “At your service,” and a bow, as Dwarves do when greeting someone for the first time.

When the three stood, they looked at the small man in the doorway. He had large hairy feet and curly hair. He stood to the dwarves’ shoulders and he was half as thin, for dwarves aren’t known for being skinny.

“You must be Mister Boggins!” Kíli exclaimed.

“Isn’t it Baggins?” His sister mumbled next to him.

But the door was closing and the hobbit was saying, “Nope! You can’t come in! You’ve come to the wrong house!” 

Kíli pushed the door back open and said, “What?” worriedly.

“Has it been cancelled?” Líli added.

“No one told us.” Fíli stated.

“Cancelled?” The hobbit said. He was very confused at this point, for now their were five dwarves at his residence whom he had not invited, “No, nothing’s been cancelled!”

“That’s a relief!” Kíli said, his excitement returned as he shoved through the door quite rudely and into the house. Fíli and Líli followed, each giving respectful nods to their unwilling host.

Fíli turned when the door was shut and said, “Be careful with these,” he handed his knives to the hobbit, “I just had them sharpened.”

“This place is very nice.” Kíli said, trying to scrape mud off of his boot and onto a nice looking piece of furniture.

Meanwhile Líli had wondered into the kitchen to find a big, burly dwarf with a bald head covered and tattoos eating at the table.

“Mister Dwalin!” She exclaimed, “How’ve you been?”

“Ah, Líli.” Dwalin replied, wiping leftover bits of chicken from his face with his muscled forearm, “Haven’t seen you in ages lass! I’ve been well. How’s your sword arm?”

Líli chuckled, “Quite good, Mister Dwalin. I can beat both of my brothers with a hand tied behind my back!”

“Quite confident, aren’t we?” 

“Well, I have to be, don’t I? What with two handsome princes as older brothers!” Líli said.

Líli sat chatting with Dwalin and his brother Balin as the other dwarves and Gandalf slowly arrived, until only Thorin, her uncle was missing.

Líli and her brothers had always been close to their Uncle Thorin. He had helped their mother raise them since the death of their father. Their father was where Fíli got his golden hair and shorter stature. Both Líli and Kíli inherited the dark locks and tall-for-a-dwarf structure from their mother. Líli was an almost an exact copy of her mother, with her long nearly black hair and sharp nose like that of Thorin. She stood around 4 feet 9 inches, being taller than Fíli, but shorter than Kíli. She carried her father’s sword (which would have gone to Fíli if he had not chosen to use daggers and two short swords, or Kíli, if he hadn’t chosen a short sword and a bow as his weapons), which was a traditional Dwarven Longsword with a handle of steel, with a leather binding, and a long blade also of fine steel, sharpened to perfection. 

Líli had left her beloved sword and dark blue hood next to the door in the entrance hall of the hobbit hole across from the small kitchen where 14 dwarves, a hobbit, and a wizard all sat, eating a glorious meal of everything they could find in the poor hobbit’s pantry. 

When it came time for cleaning the dwarves struck up a tune and tossed the dinnerware about, much to Mr. Baggins’s displeasure. He ran around trying to stop the dwarves from destroying his precious set of china plates left to him by his mother’s great aunt. Though the dwarves were loud and nerve-racking in their cleaning, they got the job done and smiled at Mr. Baggins as if he was meant to thank them.

“When’s Thorin going to arrive?” One dwarf, Bofur, said.

“He’ll be here.” Dwalin replied.

And sure enough, the doorbell rang, announcing the presence of the leader of the company and soon-to-be-King Under the Mountain, Thorin Oakenshield.