Watching Morgan receive a personal invitation from Thorin Oakenshield to join the Company,
Gandalf let out a huge sigh of relief.
He had watched almost the entire time as Morgan went from being looked down on by Thorin Oakenshield,
to rebuking Thorin Oakenshield and declaring that he would challenge him,
then doing Thorin a favor by changing his opponent,
and finally defeating the Dwarf Kili with ease, not only getting a personal apology from Thorin Oakenshield but also a personal invitation to join the Company.
He had also shown off his abilities to great effect before the Dwarves and Gandalf himself.
After all that, Morgan's standing in the Company would be no lower than any of the Dwarves'.
No one in the Company would look down on him or dare underestimate him.
Because of their temperament, Dwarves valued strength more than any other race.
Gandalf had thought Morgan was just a lad with great strength.
He hadn't expected the lad to be so clever, too.
After all, from start to finish, apart from Morgan hinting halfway through that Gandalf should smooth things over, Gandalf had hardly said a word.
That was far better than Morgan joining the Company on the strength of Gandalf's recommendation, as he had told him earlier.
Morgan's remarkable performance couldn't help but make Gandalf think of Bilbo.
He had wanted to recommend him for the Company, too.
Thinking of the way Thorin Oakenshield and the other Dwarves had treated Bilbo earlier,
Gandalf felt a little uneasy.
But with him there, Bilbo would definitely be able to join the Company.
Before that, though, he still had to get the little fellow to agree.
Thinking of this, Gandalf took out his pipe again.
Back inside Bilbo's Bag End,
the Dwarves still hadn't fully recovered from the contest and were in high spirits.
Even Bilbo, who had been so gloomy and displeased, had just won some money, and the lively atmosphere had lifted his spirits a little.
The interrupted gathering continued.
As he watched all kinds of food and drink being carried out of the pantry,
Bilbo gritted his teeth and consoled himself. Since this is unavoidable, I might as well be generous about it. At least I can show off the Hobbits' hospitality.
Thinking that way, Bilbo felt as though his bleeding heart had eased a little.
Before long, the long dining table was covered with all kinds of food.
Looking at the smoked fish, smoked meat, smoked sausages, smoked ham, cheese, white bread, dried tomatoes, dried persimmons, dried mushrooms, and more than a dozen other dishes laid out before him,
Morgan finally got a better idea of the Hobbit's—or rather, Bilbo's—wealth.
This was not the kind of food stock an ordinary family could afford.
The Dwarves' looting-style carrying soon filled the entire table.
The Dwarves took their seats, and Morgan sat down beside Gandalf.
Dwarves weren't fussy about meals. As soon as they sat down, they started eating.
Morgan didn't hold back, either. In this world, no one cared about things like dieting.
Most people were lucky if they could eat their fill a few times a day.
Morgan had plenty of memories of the story in his head, and he knew there would be plenty of miserable days ahead on the journey.
If he didn't eat now, when would he?
Morgan wolfed down smoked fish, smoked meat, smoked ham, smoked sausages, cheese, and all kinds of high-calorie food.
He didn't turn down the fruit wine or grape wine, either.
He had to admit, the smoked meats had a flavor all their own.
Morgan figured he could eat them for a long time.
Although Morgan was eating and drinking heartily, his table manners were far better than the Dwarves'.
The Dwarves not only sang loudly while they ate, but they could even dance on the table.
At that moment, a young Dwarf about Kili's age, but a little shorter, with golden hair tied into several braids, was gyrating his hips in the middle of the long table.
The Dwarves around him waved their knives and forks, banging on their dishes to make all kinds of noise as they laughed and shouted along.
Fortunately, Morgan had already eaten enough to fill seven or eight tenths of his stomach, and now he had no desire to eat any more.
So he held a large wooden tankard full of fruit wine and leaned back on the bench like Gandalf, watching the Dwarves' enthusiastic performance.
"Quite amusing, isn't it?"
"Once you get to know them, you'll grow fond of them."
Gandalf clinked his cup against Morgan's and said with a smile.
"They're a little noisy, but they really are pretty great."
"I don't think I'd ever be bored as long as I was with them."
Morgan took a big gulp of fruit wine and nodded.
"Looks like you're already getting used to them."
Hearing Morgan's words, Gandalf turned to him in some surprise and smiled.
Morgan clinked his cup against Gandalf's again and continued, "Tell me about the Company. I've only heard you mention it, and I don't know anything about the quest. That won't help me with my work."
"I can't explain it all just now."
"Wait a little longer. You'll find out soon enough."
Gandalf shook his head, signaling for Morgan to keep watching the Dwarves' performance.
The meal went on for quite some time.
By the time they had finished eating and the table had been cleared, it was already the middle of the night.
Watching the Dwarves sit properly around the long table, Morgan knew the real business was about to begin.
"Any news from the Ered Luin Council?"
"Have they all arrived?"
The first to speak was the white-bearded Dwarf Balin.
Thorin Oakenshield nodded. "Yes, all seven kingdoms have sent representatives."
Dwalin, a Dwarf of equal standing to Balin, spoke next. "What did the Dwarves of the Iron Hills say?"
"Will Dain join us?"
Thorin Oakenshield shook his head. "They won't come. They said this is our adventure, and ours alone."
As soon as he finished speaking, all the Dwarves fell silent.
At that point, Gandalf stood up and gathered the candles on the table together. Then he took out a yellowed parchment scroll.
He unrolled the parchment, which clearly depicted mountain ranges and rivers, forests and wastelands. It was a map.
"Far to the east, beyond mountains and rivers, through forests and wastelands, there stands a mountain: the Lonely Mountain."
"Yes, Quirin saw an omen. The omen said that the time had come."
"When the thrush flies to the Lonely Mountain, just as the prophecy foretold."
"When the birds of old return to Erebor, the rule of the beast will come to an end."
The Dwarves spoke one after another, clearly all familiar with the prophecy.
"The beast? What beast?" Bilbo, who was listening nearby, suddenly asked.
"A dragon, Smaug the fire-breathing dragon, the most savage and terrifying calamity of that age!"
"I'm not afraid of it. I'll let it taste a Dwarf's iron club!"
"There's no need to even think about it. This is far too difficult. It would be hard even with an army behind us, let alone with only a dozen of us—and not the best or brightest dozen, either."
"Hey, what do you mean by that? Who are you calling stupid?"
"We're not stupid!"
"We have a bounty hunter now, and Gandalf the wizard."
"Gandalf once killed over a hundred dragons."
"Uh, no, wait, I—I didn't mean to say that."
"How many?"
"What?"
"Gandalf, exactly how many dragons have you killed?"
"Cough, cough, cough."
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