Chapter 13: The Blue Mountains

The starry sky receded, the moonlight faded, and the sun rose, casting its first golden rays across the land of Minhiriath.

Gandalf mounted his pony and prepared to depart. Tarnes, Rogier, and Nepheli stood at the edge of the newly formed outpost to see him off.

"Are you certain you cannot stay a few more days?" Tarnes asked, making a final attempt to persuade the wizard. "Your words are often riddles wrapped in poems, but I find I quite enjoy your stories of Middle-earth."

He had grown to like the wise old man. After the battle, Gandalf had used his practical Glintstone sorcery to clear and repair the ancient roads leading to the outpost, making the area feel less like a forgotten wilderness and more like a place where people lived.

Gandalf accepted the staff Tarnes handed him, weighing it in his hand. "Meetings are always brief, and partings will always come, my friend," he said with a smile. "Evil stirs in this land, and I must uncover the truth of it."

Tarnes, who had removed his white wolf helmet, ran a hand through his messy black hair. The sunlight glinted in his eyes, and his handsome face wore an expression that clearly said, He's speaking in riddles again.

"I hope the next wizard I meet does not make 'I have things to do, see you later' sound like an epic verse," Tarnes said. He gave the pony's rump a firm pat, and the animal started forward. "Goodbye, Gandalf. If you pass through the Shire, say hello to Bilbo for me. And tell him the food was excellent."

Before he had ridden far, Gandalf looked back and called out, "Continue southwest from here! At the end of the cape, there is a great forest called Eriador. It is said that the indigenous Men of Minhiriath, who have hidden there since the Second Age, still dwell within it. Or you can head further southeast. You will find a ruined port called Tharbad. Perhaps you can use it to make contact with the kingdom of Gondor."

Tarnes committed the names to memory. "Eriador! Tharbad! I will remember them!" he shouted back.

Satisfied, Gandalf turned his head and urged his mount into a brisker pace, soon disappearing over the rolling hills.

Rogier, shielding his eyes from the morning sun with the brim of his sorcerer's hat, walked over to Tarnes. "So, will you be visiting those places next?"

"First, I'll check the map Bilbo gave me," Tarnes replied. "If they are too far, I will remain here to guard the Erdtree. Only when I can summon a true fortress will I feel comfortable leaving for any length of time."

He pulled the worn parchment from his pack. The map was creased from frequent use, but the markings were still clear. Rogier leaned in, his curiosity piqued by the symbols Tarnes had added—small, crossed swords and simple stick figures.

"What do these mean?" he asked.

"The swords mark the locations of Orc attacks," Tarnes explained. "The figures are where I met a company of Dwarves from the Blue Mountains. Based on the distances I've traveled, our approximate location is… here." His finger landed on a black dot he had drawn, beside which he had written "Golden Tree" in the elegant script of the Lands Between.

Rogier's eyes followed Tarnes's finger, and using the directions Gandalf had given, he quickly located the names on the map.

"It seems Eriador is closest to us," he said with a smile. "Tharbad is quite a distance away."

"In that case," Tarnes nodded, "I will go to Eriador first and say hello to our neighbors."

Just then, Nepheli's voice cut in from behind them. "Where are you going, my king?"

She was dragging the carcass of a wild deer, a single, perfectly placed arrow protruding from its ear, the arrowhead having pierced clean through its skull.

Tarnes turned, his gaze falling on the deer before answering. "The wizard recommended two places worth visiting. Have you just returned from the hunt?"

Nepheli dropped the deer at her feet. "I have. But the game around here has fled or been slain. I left before sunrise and only now found this one." She hesitated for a moment, then her expression grew serious. "Tarnes, I do not think we can go anywhere just yet. We must solve our food problem first. If it were just the three of us, your rations would last a week. But with thirteen new mouths to feed, this morning's breakfast consumed most of what was left."

The reality of the situation hit Tarnes. "Are there enough rations for lunch?"

Nepheli kicked the deer carcass. "Counting this, yes. But I cannot be certain about dinner. The only good news is the river nearby. We will not lack for water." A thought struck her. "Perhaps I should have Godrick's soldiers make some fishing rods."

"That is why I chose this place," Tarnes said. "A river means we will not starve in the short term. The game will return to drink. But it is not a long-term solution. We will need to farm. I have some seeds, but they are not for crops." He looked at the Erdtree, its golden leaves shimmering in the sun. "If we can get proper seeds, they will ripen quickly under its blessing."

Nepheli's expression relaxed. "From your tone, I assume you have a way to acquire them?"

Tarnes nodded. He handed the map to Rogier, then reached into his pack and pulled out a battle-axe, smaller than Nepheli's own. Its black steel head was etched with unfamiliar runes.

Nepheli's eyes narrowed. As a master of the axe, she recognized its superb craftsmanship at a glance, but the style was not of the Lands Between. This was a weapon from this world. She understood instantly.

"The owner of this axe is named Thorin," Tarnes said, hefting the weapon. It was too small for him to use for anything but practice. "He told me that if I ever needed anything forged, I should seek him out. I doubt he would be stingy with a few crop seeds."

"Where is he now?" Rogier asked. "Is it far?"

"He said he was a Dwarf of the Blue Mountains. If I show this axe, someone should lead me to him."

Rogier unfurled the map again. After locating the mountains, he smiled. "It is not too far, but our trip to Eriador will have to wait."

Tarnes promised Rogier he would get his chance to explore soon enough, then turned to Nepheli. "Give me a week and a half. I will ride Torrent at full speed. Even if I cannot find Thorin, I will barter for what we need."

With the plan settled, Tarnes went to the newly formed gate of the outpost. The Godrick Knight and his soldiers stood guard, their discipline unwavering. He entrusted the safety of the Erdtree and his companions to them, then blew the whistle that summoned Torrent.

Three Days Later

Tarnes rode for three days and three nights without rest. Through the weary eyes behind his helmet, he finally saw them: a continuous range of mountains that, from a distance, truly lived up to their name, appearing as a wall of deep, hazy blue. As he drew closer, he saw they were covered in vast forests of dark green pine, and nestled at their feet were bustling towns, smoke curling from a hundred chimneys.

He took off his helmet and drank from his Crimson Flask of Tears, the magical liquid instantly restoring his stamina. He guided Torrent off the open plains and onto the wide, well-maintained road built by the Dwarves.

The road was busy. Dwarves with cheerful, ruddy faces traveled in both directions, some returning laden with goods, others leaving with carts full of merchandise, their expressions full of hope. Besides the short-bearded Thorin, Tarnes now saw Dwarves with fiery red beards and others with magnificent golden beards, all braided into intricate, fascinating patterns. He even had the fleeting thought that perhaps Thorin was not a Dwarf at all, but a tall Hobbit, so sparse was his beard in comparison.

When the Dwarves saw the armored human on his spectral steed emerge from the roadless plains, some grew wary, while others were merely curious. It was not unheard of to see Men in the Blue Mountains, but they were always merchants. A lone, dusty warrior was a rare and intriguing sight.

Tarnes put his helmet back on, blocking the scrutinizing gazes, and urged Torrent forward. He soon arrived at the gates of a large town. Dwarves and a few human merchant caravans were lined up, waiting for entry. Fully armored Dwarf soldiers, their spears held at the ready, patrolled the lines.

As expected, his appearance drew their immediate attention. A Dwarf captain with a magnificent, fiery red beard approached, his tone polite but firm.

He spoke in a slightly broken but understandable Common Tongue. "Your name, human. And your purpose for coming to the Blue Mountains."

Tarnes raised a hand in a gesture of peace. "You may call me Tarnes," he replied. "I am here to find a Dwarf named Thorin. Do you know him?"

To his surprise, the gentle answer did not ease the Dwarves' suspicion. In fact, at the mention of Thorin's name, their wariness intensified.

What is going on? Tarnes wondered, remaining perfectly still. Is Thorin some kind of dangerous criminal?

(End of Chapter)

***

(End of Chapter)

[Check Out My Patreon For More Chapters On All

Of My Fanfics!!] [www. p@treon.com/meowthtl]

[+300 Power Stones = +1 Bonus Chapter]

[+500 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter]

[Thank You For Your Support!]