— From Bilbo's Perspective —
I'm incredibly frustrated right now. My house is full of dwarves, and I keep getting belittled. Stupid dwarves! They've turned my home upside down and raided my pantry. Don't get me wrong—I'm a hospitable hobbit, but only if my guests show some respect to both me and my house! Dinner time was chaotic. Throughout the entire meal, I kept shooting angry glances at Gandalf, but he deliberately avoided my gaze.
When the leaders of the group arrived, the atmosphere suddenly quieted and became much more formal, as if there hadn't been a racket just moments before. The worst part? Even their leader seems to be ignoring me, treating me as if I'm insignificant...
As the minutes passed, their tales began to captivate me. I've always been curious about the world beyond the Shire. But it wasn't until I learned they hadn't come just to gather at my home—they came to invite me on an adventure—that I was utterly stunned.
"I'm not a thief or anything like that—I'm just an ordinary hobbit!" I exclaimed.
That statement split the dwarves into two camps. I saw Thorin's subtle but unmistakable look of mockery and disdain, which deeply unsettled me. Gandalf calmed the atmosphere and defended me. When I heard his explanation, even I began to see myself as a thief.
Gandalf produced a map and a key and handed them to Thorin, saying he needed to reclaim his homeland. He mentioned something about the strategic position of the mountain—but I couldn't make heads or tails of it. Then, the conversation turned back to me. Balin handed me a contract of employment. Just as I was about to start reading it, I heard a knock at the door.
Knock knock knock…
"Again!? How many dwarves did you invite?" Bilbo asked.
Thorin and the others were just as surprised and began looking around at each other.
"Was there anyone else expected?" Thorin asked.
"I didn't invite anyone," said Bofur.
Kili and Fili shook their heads, and the rest of the group denied it too.
Dwalin and Balin exchanged glances, stood up, grabbed their weapons, and prepared themselves.
Thorin turned to Gandalf.
"Did you invite anyone else?"
Knock knock knock…
The door knocked again. Gandalf's expression turned serious. "No," he said.
The dwarves stayed alert. Kili slowly approached the window and peered outside from a blind spot.
"There's a human ranger and a knight at the door. They've brought three humans bound in ropes."
The group tensed further. Dwalin suggested setting an ambush, but Gandalf advised against making a rash decision.
Why my house, of all places…
— Main Character's Perspective —
This is the third time I've knocked. What are they doing in there...
We waited a bit longer, and finally, the door opened. A visibly anxious Bilbo stood before us.
"How can I help you?" he asked, casting nervous glances toward the bound men behind me.
"Good evening, young hobbit. Would you happen to be Bilbo Baggins?" I asked.
"Uh-uh—yes, yes, I am. How can I help you?" he replied.
He looked tense, and I glanced back at the prisoners. Clearly, I'd caused some panic. I removed my helmet, pulled out a letter, and spoke loudly:
"I am a traveling knight, my friends—not an enemy. I seek the Grey Wizard Gandalf. An old earth mage named Jeros, a mutual acquaintance, directed me to him."
I handed the letter to Bilbo.
"Give this to Gandalf. I'll wait here," I said.
Bilbo nodded, closed the door, and went inside. I waited for about ten minutes under the stars. The door finally opened.
"Come in," said Bilbo.
I nodded and entered with Halt, bringing the prisoners with us.
"Halt, I leave the prisoners to you. Keep a watchful eye—there may be more coming."
Halt nodded. I followed Bilbo to the dining room.
I nodded with a smile. "Good evening, gentlemen."
All eyes turned toward me with suspicion. They examined me closely. Balin smiled and said, "Yes, quite the evening."
Gandalf spoke up. "My old friend Jeros says in his letter that you're a reliable traveling knight. May we know your name?"
My eyebrow twitched. "That senile goat didn't mention my name!?"
Gandalf gave me a curious look and continued, "He only mentioned that you're trustworthy—and that if I were to hire you, I should make sure to keep my staff away from you."
"...That grumpy old man still holds a grudge…" I muttered under my breath.
Thorin began to lose his temper. His aura intensified as he glared at me. "YOUR NAME! NOW!"
I frowned. Normally, I wouldn't care about an interview turning tense, but when it comes to dwarves, backing down only invites trouble.
Matching his aura, I replied, "Watch your tone, Thorin Oakenshield. You may be a king—but you're not my king."
The tension thickened. Gandalf cleared his throat to defuse the situation.
"Now, let's all calm down. Young knight, we would like to know your name before continuing this discussion. If you persist in evading, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave."
I looked around the room and paused for a moment. Then, with a sigh, I said:
"My name is Igris. I'm a traveling knight active in and around Enedwaith. People call me the Black Knight."
The atmosphere softened. The group looked surprised.
Gandalf chuckled. "I never imagined the famed Black Knight would work with me."
Scratching the back of my head, I replied, "I'm not that famous."
"I've heard that many nobles in Gondor and Rohan have tried to gain your allegiance," Gandalf added with a smile.
"Heh! I serve no one—especially not those rabble who treat their people like garbage," I said calmly, but with disdain.
Gandalf looked serious for a moment, but then his smile returned—wider than before. He said nothing.
The dwarves, now recovering from their surprise, began to speak.
"It's an honor to meet you, Black Knight. I'm Kili," said Kili, excitedly.
"And I'm his brother, Fili. A good warrior always has a place at our table. Welcome, friend," said Fili.
I nodded and smiled. "Dwarven brothers, Kili and Fili—I've heard of your names. Among mercenaries, you've earned quite a reputation." I shook their hands.
The other dwarves introduced themselves one by one. When it was Gloin's turn—Gimli's father—he said:
"Sir Igris, five years ago, you rescued a group of dwarves from an orc ambush. Do you remember?"
The others fell silent and listened closely.
I thought for a moment. "I think I remember. I've met many dwarves over the years—but I had a friend in that group."
The expression in the dwarves' eyes—Thorin included—shifted toward respect.
"One of them was my wife's brother. His name was Guno," Gloin said.
My expression darkened a little. "Of course I know him. I saved his hide from the orcs, and in return, when he made my armor, he only gave me a 5% discount."
I didn't dwell on it too much. The armor was solid, comfortable, and exactly how I had sketched it. He had a family to feed, after all. Still, I seriously doubt that he overcharged me… I wonder how the colony's doing these days.
Gloin chuckled and continued, "He's like that. He's a good smith—and like most dwarves, he values his craft more than his life. Still, on behalf of both my wife and Guno, thank you."
He made a deep gesture of gratitude, but I waved it off. "No need. The dwarves in that caravan thanked me more than enough."
I turned toward the table and sat down.
"Gandalf—what's the job?" I asked.
"You go straight to the point, don't you?" said Gandalf.
"It's been a long day. I'd rather talk now and sleep soon."
At that moment, groaning and dull thuds echoed from near the front door. Seemed like our prisoners were having trouble sleeping—and Doctor Halt had resumed the therapy. Such a kind old man.
"Why did you bring these people here tied up?" Dwalin asked, suspicious.
"I brought them as a gesture of goodwill," I replied.
The group was surprised. Gandalf asked, "For us?"
"Yes."
Thorin narrowed his eyes. "Why?"
"Because they were following you," I said calmly.
The group and Gandalf were stunned. Thorin slammed the table. "WHAT!?"
Gandalf's tone grew serious. "Do you know who they are, Sir Igris?"
I said nothing. I placed a torn emblem on the table. Gandalf's eyebrows furrowed. "The Silver Jackal..." he muttered, deep in thought.
I turned to Bilbo. "Mr. Baggins, could you please bring me something to drink? Non-alcoholic, please."
Thorin asked, "Why would the Silver Jackal follow us?"
"Because a bounty has been placed on you—and your nephews," I replied.
Gandalf grew even more serious. "What kind of bounty?"
"It's a Black Speech bounty. And the amount is large. Thorin—100,000 gold coins. Kili—30,000. Fili—50,000."
The group was shocked by the astronomical numbers. I couldn't blame them. The movies never mentioned any bounties. In this version of Middle-earth, the currency is: Copper, Silver, Gold. 100 copper equals 1 silver, 100 silver equals 1 gold. A family can eat for a day with 1 silver. A traveling knight earns only 20 gold for eliminating an orc tribe.
Did that stingy Smaug really open up the dwarven treasure hoard to Azog? One thing is certain—this journey won't be as smooth as in the movie. I'm starting to suspect the screenwriters cut scenes to save on budget.
Gloin's eyes widened. "By Durin's glorious beard—that reward almost tempts me!"
The group glared at him darkly. Gloin shrank and added, "Just kidding."
Fili laughed. "It's okay, friend. Even I thought about turning myself in! Hahaha!"
Kili wasn't amused. "Why is my bounty less than my brother's?"
Fili laughed harder. "You're still young, brother."
The other dwarves broke into noisy chatter until Thorin slammed the table again.
"ENOUGH!" he roared.
He turned to me. "Do you know who placed the bounty?"
"I captured a group in Bree and interrogated them. They didn't give a name—but they said the bounty came from a pale orc. Likely one of the Frost Orcs. Their tribes live in the northeast. I met one in Dunland—missing an arm, wielding a blade prosthetic, rides a white wolf. My companions during that mission called him 'The Defiler.' He's the only Frost Orc I've heard of in the western and central parts of the continent."
Dwalin, Balin, and Thorin were visibly shocked during this, and their expressions changed as I continued.
Thorin shouted in disbelief, "IMPOSSIBLE! AZOG WAS KILLED BY ME! IT CAN'T BE HIM!"