Independent Novel Study Bonus Assignment 1/2 : Journal Entries

Entries from the Journal of Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, Rightful King Under the Mountain and Lord of Durin, Cousin to Dain of the Iron Hills, on his Journey to Reclaim That which is Rightfully His from the Terror of Smaug

Entry the First

It seems our fortunes may be changing at last. The sorcerer known as Gandalf, ever a trusted counsellor of my grandfather in his time on the throne, has for whatever reason decided to make his presence known to us. He claims to have found the perfect fourteenth member for our expedition, such that we may properly begin without cursing ourselves from the start. Not just a new companion, but a burglar of the highest esteem he promises us. Should his honeyed words prove themselves true, we may yet reclaim the Mountain. We journey to this fellow's abode in a land to the west known as the Shire at once. With luck and a few day's hard marching, we may make it there in ten days' time. I retire to mt quarters for the time being, and shall continue this recording at a later date.

Entry the Second

Useless burglar. I haven't the faintest idea why Gandalf would have recommended him, though the conjurer continues to insist that we'll see his worth in time. Not even halfway to the Misty Mountains and he's almost gotten us all killed! Of course Gandalf also abandons and rejoins us at his own discretion, with no word of warning even to me. At this rate, we won't even make it back home before we're the lot of us dead. Bilbo finds the trolls, and what does he do? Picks one's pocket! Every layman knows their wallets talk! Seeing as he's meant to be this party's burglar, shouldn't he at least know the basics of his trade? Now the others are all in a fit as well, scared from those troll's threats. Fili and Kili are putting up well, though. Good strong boys. They'll do well for themselves in time, if this journey isn't the end of us. Anyway, Gandalf has deigned to ride with us again, eating well more than his share of the rations. At least they should hold out 'til we reach Rivendell. I must retire for now, and hope the sorcerer and his pet don't rob us blind in the night.

Entry the Third

It has been long since I last recorded my thoughts in this book. To be fair, there hasn't been much opportunity! Seeing my last entry, I must express regret at my thoughts of Bilbo. He has proven himself many times over! Twice, now, he has saved all our lives and thrice his own in the most resourceful manner. A magic ring! Stolen from the home of a horrid wretch of a creature no less. Then he escapes the spiders in Mirkwood and frees us, and leads them off - single-handedly - so that we might escape. Already, he had my greatest respect – then he hatches the plan to sneak us out of the Elf-King's dungeons in barrels down the river. Barrels! Never would have thought of it myself. Though of course, he wasn't the one who had to ride for a day and a month in a cramped barrel. Still, I am pleased with the reception we got at Lake-Town. The descendants of the folk of Dale still remember my Grandfather's legend. It is inspiring, almost as heartening as the rations we got from their master. Meek man, that one. I don't trust him as far as I can throw him. I'd wager he'd never have given us aid had the townsfolk not pressured him into it. But Lake-Town is behind us now, and we approach the Lonely Mountain, home of my forefathers. Tomorrow we climb, and search for the secret door marked on my father's map. I must rest now, for tomorrow all our efforts come to a head. Nothing matters more.

Entry the Fourth

I trusted him. Trusted him! And he would dare!? To take it, the Arkenstone, from my vaults? For him to merely touch it without my direct permission should be cause enough to behead the creature, but for that wretched burglar to steal it? Heresy upon my grandfather's grave. Not only that, he added insult to injury by giving the stone to the Dale-men and the elves. Gandalf, too! I plot, I say, a plot between the two of them from the start. Never trust a wizard. “I have pressing business elsewhere,” he says. Disappears, leaves us to die in that blasted forest. And now a war on our doorstep. To challenge the rightful King of Durin and demand a share of his wealth? Never! A dwarf's gold is his own, and no other's. Fortunately, my cousin Dain of the Iron Hills in the north-west stands with me. He marches to our aid post-haste. But I despair, for there are rumours of the goblins mobilizing in the mountains. This may be the end of us all, should this fortress' walls not hold. I pray only that I might reclaim the Arkenstone before I die a glorious death on the battlefield. Whoever should find this book, if it is not burned, I ask that you ensure the Arkenstone is safe. And Farewell!

A/N: In translating these texts, I have done some of my own research into the subject. While the goblin horde was driven back – only barely – Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, did die defending his post on the mountain. The Arkenstone was returned to the Lonely Mountain, and Dain stayed to rule his cousin's kingdom. A truce was forged between the Dwarves, Elves, and Men of that land, though whether any of those kingdoms remain is lost to the ages. The hobbit burglar Baggins (later revealed to have had no malicious intent, as Oakenshield's last entry might attest) returned to his home in the West. Gandalf disappeared, though he returns in many other stories of the age. Though Thorin's tale may seem a tragedy, it is worth noting that he met and reconciled with Bilbo before his death, and he passed peacefully in the company of friends. His untimely end was mourned by all.