The Mage of Middle-Earth - CH - 19 (Patreon)

The morning light filtered through the small round windows of Sirius's hobbit hole as he rose from his bed, stretching in the crisp air. The day of the quest to the Lonely Mountain had finally arrived. He began packing for the long journey ahead, taking great care to prepare for any situation he might face.

Sirius filled his bag with a mix of practical and enchanted items. He packed dried meats, bread, and preserves, ensuring he had enough provisions for himself and the dwarves should they need extra rations. Alongside the food, he carefully selected weapons—nothing too grand, but enough to handle unexpected dangers. His old wand was hidden among the supplies, but he opted for a simple enchanted knife, a bow, and a few magical trinkets. They weren't flashy, but their subtle power would serve him well in a pinch. He was determined to make everything seem as though they were items he had collected from his various travels in Middle-earth, just in case Gandalf took too much interest in his possessions.

As he tightened the straps on his pack, he heard a knock at the door. It was Gandalf, standing tall and imposing in the morning sun.

"Good morning, Jimmy," Gandalf greeted him with a knowing smile. "The company of dwarves is already waiting for you at the Green Dragon Inn. I trust you are prepared for what lies ahead?"

Sirius nodded. "I’m ready. Though I have to say, you could have warned me about how much those dwarves can eat."

Gandalf chuckled. "Yes, their appetites are legendary. But I’m sure you’ll find their companionship...eventful." He paused, his sharp eyes taking in the pack on Sirius’s back. "I trust you’ve brought only what you need?"

Sirius gave him a wry smile. "Of course. Just a few things I’ve picked up over the years. Nothing out of the ordinary."

The wizard gave a slight nod, though Sirius could tell he wasn’t entirely convinced. Still, Gandalf said nothing more on the matter.

Before leaving, Sirius made a quick stop at his friend Bilbo Baggins’s home. Bilbo had agreed to look after the farm while he was away. It was a simple arrangement: in exchange for managing the land and ensuring the crops and animals were well tended, Bilbo would receive 30% of everything produced.

"I’ll keep everything in good order, Jimmy," Bilbo promised, standing at the gate of his own cozy home. "You’ll hardly recognize the place when you return."

Sirius clapped him on the shoulder. "I’m sure it’ll be in good hands. Just don’t eat all the apples before I get back."

With a few more words of thanks and goodbyes exchanged, Sirius made his way to the Green Dragon Inn, where the dwarves were already gathered. They were in high spirits, laughing and chatting, though Thorin Oakenshield remained his usual stoic self.

"You're late," Thorin said with a frown as Sirius approached.

"Had a farm to take care of," Sirius replied easily. "But I’m here now, aren’t I?"

As the company gathered their ponies in the stable yard, Sirius noticed right away that the dwarves had made a common, yet dangerous, mistake. There were fifteen ponies, all of good quality, but the dwarves had piled nearly all of their food and provisions onto a single pony. The animal stood burdened by the weight, and Sirius shook his head in disbelief.

He approached Thorin, who was overseeing the preparations with his usual grim expression. "Thorin, that’s a fine group of ponies you’ve got here," Sirius began casually, gesturing to the animals. "But storing all the food and supplies on one pony? That’s just asking for trouble."

Thorin raised an eyebrow, clearly not used to being questioned, but Sirius continued. "If that pony runs off, gets injured, or anything else happens, your entire company will be left without food long before we reach the Lonely Mountain."

The other dwarves paused in their work, and even Gandalf, who was standing nearby, glanced over with interest.

"Go on, then," Thorin said, his voice gruff but with a hint of curiosity.

Sirius folded his arms. "Simple solution: distribute the provisions across all the ponies. Make small bags of food and supplies, and each of you should carry a portion on your own pony. That way, if one or two ponies run off or we’re attacked, we still have enough to get by. Better to be safe than hungry."

A murmur of agreement ran through the company, and even Gandalf gave an approving nod, clearly impressed with Sirius’s practicality. The wizard hadn’t expected such forethought from their so-called burglar, and it seemed that Sirius was more resourceful than even Gandalf had anticipated.

Thorin eyed Sirius for a moment before nodding. "You’ve got a point," he admitted. "Dwalin, Bofur, take Jimmy's advice. Spread the load."

The dwarves quickly set to work, dividing the provisions into smaller bags and securing them to each pony. As they did so, Thorin cast another glance at Sirius, his expression thoughtful. "Now I understand why Gandalf insisted on bringing you," he muttered. "You might actually be useful after all."

Sirius smirked at the backhanded compliment but said nothing. As the company mounted their ponies and prepared to leave Bree, he felt a strange sense of satisfaction. It wasn’t often that he found himself in the role of the voice of reason, but it seemed that in this world, his skills were more appreciated than they had been in his own.

Gandalf rode up beside him as they started down the road. "That was well said, Jimmy," the wizard remarked. "I’ve traveled with many parties over the years, and even I hadn’t thought of that particular precaution."

Sirius grinned, his sharp eyes scanning the road ahead. "Old habits, Gandalf. You learn a few things when you’ve spent years on the road."

The wizard chuckled softly. "Indeed, it seems you’re more than just a burglar. This journey may prove to be more interesting than I thought."

As the company moved forward, with provisions safely divided among the ponies, Sirius felt a sense of anticipation build within him. The Lonely Mountain awaited, but so did the memories of his past, and he couldn’t help but wonder what lay ahead for both Jimmy Potter the hobbit and Sirius Black the wizard.

By the time the party reached the Midwater Marshes, the skies opened up with a relentless downpour. Heavy rain drenched the group, and flashes of lightning lit up the darkening sky, followed by cracks of thunder that echoed across the marshes. The muddy ground made it difficult for the ponies to keep their footing, and the party was forced to slow their pace.

As they struggled forward through the storm, one of the ponies suddenly bolted, spooked by the thunder. The dwarves groaned in frustration as they watched the animal disappear into the distance. To their astonishment, it was the very pony they had originally loaded with all their provisions before Jimmy had insisted on redistributing them. Relief swept through the company, and more than a few of the dwarves cast grateful glances in Jimmy’s direction.

"Thank Durin you had sense enough to spread the load," Dwalin grunted, trudging along beside him. "We'd be starving already if it weren't for your quick thinking."

Sirius gave a small nod, wiping the rain from his face. "A bit of planning goes a long way."

But even with the provisions intact, the storm made their journey nearly unbearable. They were all soaked through, their cloaks and clothes clinging to them uncomfortably. The dwarves were visibly weary, their stomachs growling with hunger, and even Gandalf’s patience seemed to be wearing thin.

"We’ll need to stop soon," Balin called out over the howling wind. "We can’t travel like this much longer."

Sirius knew he was right. The rain was coming down in sheets, and it was growing harder to see the road ahead. They needed to find shelter, or at the very least, a place to camp where they could build a fire and prepare some food.

"I know these marshes," Sirius said, his voice carrying over the wind. "There’s a rise not far from here, sheltered by some large boulders. It’ll keep us out of the worst of the rain. We can camp there."

Thorin, his face set in a grim line, nodded. "Lead the way, then."

Sirius urged his pony forward, guiding the group through the marshy terrain. After what felt like an eternity, they finally reached the small rise he had mentioned. The boulders provided some protection from the wind and rain, though the ground was still sodden. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the best they were going to get under the circumstances.

The dwarves dismounted, weary and hungry, and began the difficult task of setting up camp in the wet conditions. It was nearly impossible to light a fire with everything soaked, but Jimmy had come prepared. From his bag, he pulled out a bundle of enchanted fire-starters—small stones he’d collected during his travels that could ignite even in the wettest conditions.

As he handed one to Balin, the old dwarf gave him a look of deep gratitude. "You’re full of surprises, Jimmy," he said with a smile. "We’d be in a right mess without you."

The fire was soon roaring, and the dwarves huddled around it, grateful for the warmth and light. Sirius helped them distribute the provisions and prepare a quick meal, though it wasn’t much—just enough to keep their strength up. Still, it was better than nothing, and the dwarves were in much better spirits after they’d eaten.

As they sat around the fire, the rain still pouring down around them, Thorin spoke. "We’ve faced worse than this, lads," he said, his voice steady. "And we’ll face worse still before we reach the Lonely Mountain. But we’re on the right path, and we’ve got a good head on our shoulders in this hobbit."

The dwarves grunted in agreement, and though they were tired, they seemed reassured. Even Sirius impressed, casting a sidelong glance at dwarves messy feasting.

During the feast around the campfire, as the dwarves tore into their meager meal, their conversation turned to Gandalf. They grumbled and muttered, their frustrations bubbling to the surface now that they had some food in their bellies and the warmth of the fire to stave off the cold.

“Where was Gandalf when we needed him the most, eh?” Dwalin grunted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “He’s a wizard, yet half the time he’s nowhere to be found. He could have stopped the storm with a flick of his staff.”

"Aye, or at least made this blasted marsh dry under our feet!" Bofur added, poking at the wet ground with his boot. "What’s the point of having a wizard with us if he disappears every time we need him?"

Thorin sat quietly for a moment, listening to the others as they voiced their complaints. His face was dark, the firelight casting shadows over his sharp features. "Gandalf," he finally said, "has never been fully committed to this quest. He will come and go as he pleases, as he always has. We cannot rely on him."

Balin, the eldest of the group, nodded gravely. "A wizard’s loyalty lies with many things, not just one company of dwarves. If Gandalf finds something more pressing or more interesting, he’ll follow it. That’s the way of his kind."

Fili, chewing on the last of his bread, frowned. "Wouldn’t we be better off if he stayed with us? We could’ve avoided that storm, and maybe even that runaway pony."

Kili, sitting next to him, grumbled, "It feels like every time we turn around, he’s disappeared again. How are we supposed to trust him?"

The complaints grew louder, and it became clear that most of the dwarves shared the same sentiment. They were frustrated, tired, and felt vulnerable without Gandalf’s magic constantly at their disposal. They believed that if they had a wizard in their midst all the time, they’d be in far better condition.

Sirius sat quietly, listening. While he understood the dwarves’ concerns, he also knew the nature of wizards all too well. They were often enigmatic, driven by their own hidden agendas and purposes. Gandalf wasn’t the sort to be tied down to one task when there were greater threats or needs elsewhere.

“Well,” Sirius said, speaking up, “you may not always have Gandalf around, but that’s not to say he’s abandoned you. Wizards tend to have their own way of doing things—secrets, motives, and all that. But I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss him.”

The dwarves looked at him, still disgruntled.

“And who’s to say he isn’t helping in ways you can’t see?” Sirius continued, thinking of how Gandalf often manipulated situations behind the scenes. “He’s got a way of making sure things go the right way, even if it looks like he’s left you high and dry.”

Thorin raised an eyebrow, studying Sirius. "And what do you know of wizards, Jimmy Potter?"

Sirius chuckled softly. "More than you might think. But that’s a story for another time."

Sirius sat back from the fire, observing the dwarves as they ate and drank with reckless abandon. Their hearty laughter and boisterous conversations filled the night air, but beneath the surface of their merriment, Sirius felt a creeping unease.

He had seen how they had devoured his pantry back at Bag End, leaving barely a crumb behind. Now, as they tore through the provisions they had cooked from one pony, he realized they were treating this journey as though it were a simple jaunt through the countryside. They weren’t thinking about the length of the quest, the dangers ahead, or the need to ration food. It was all feasting, drinking, and making merry, with little thought for the days to come.

Sirius glanced at Thorin, who sat at the head of the group, quiet and contemplative. Thorin, of all the dwarves, was the most level-headed and focused. But even he wasn’t saying anything to curb their reckless feasting. Sirius expected him, as their leader, to step in and remind them that this was a long and dangerous journey, one that required careful planning and foresight. But Thorin, though honorable and determined, seemed to be swept along by the dwarves' natural inclination to celebrate every moment as if it were their last.

Sirius frowned. This lack of discipline bothered him. The dwarves, for all their loyalty and courage, were too quick to indulge in excess. They laughed easily, drank deeply, and when provoked, their tempers flared just as fast. They were good-hearted, yes, and could form bonds of friendship quickly. But just as quickly, those bonds could break over the smallest of slights, turning friends into enemies with a few harsh words.

It wasn’t that Sirius didn’t like them—he did, in his own way. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that this company, for all their bravery and camaraderie, wasn’t one he could trust with something as delicate as a secret quest. They were too loud, too open with their emotions, and too impulsive. Even the smallest provocation could spark a feud, and Sirius had seen enough of that behavior in his own life to know that it could spell disaster on a journey like this.

Sirius, for his part, remained quiet. The journey was proving to be more challenging than he had expected, but he wasn’t one to back down. As the fire crackled and the dwarves began to doze off one by one, he kept watch, listening to the sound of the rain and the distant rumble of thunder. They still had a long way to go, but for now, they were safe. And as he sat there in the darkness, he couldn't shake the feeling that something even greater lay ahead, something far more dangerous than just the Lonely Mountain.

Sirius was committed now. He had made his choice, and he wouldn’t back out, not yet. But as he sat there, listening to the dwarves tell tall tales and sing old songs, he couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of responsibility. If this company were to survive the journey to the Lonely Mountain, they would need more than just luck and courage. They would need someone to guide them, to rein them in when necessary.

And though he hadn’t intended to take on that role, Sirius was beginning to suspect that he might be the only one capable of doing so.