A Beleriand Treasury of Childish Tales by Clodia

A Critical Matter

A Critical Matter

(apologies for this snippet are due only to the author of The Hobbit)

They had nearly come to the Lone-lands and the hobbit was beginning to feel quite used to the adventure, although of course it was rather a long time since they had last stopped for a meal. Still, it was a particularly fine May afternoon, the sort of afternoon when one can smell spring blossom in the air and the bushes are full of birds twittering merrily about nothing very much, so he said nothing about it (for once). The dwarves had been singing their deep-throated songs of gold and deep caverns and ancient battles ever since breakfast, and Bilbo reflected that they were singing one song for quite the third time that day.

Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day,
To claim our pale enchanted gold...

"Funny! that sounds elvish!" said Bilbo, and accidentally said it aloud.

Now this was most unwise of Bilbo, for as everyone knows, elves and dwarves do not get on very well and it is a very bad insult to say that a dwarf is behaving elvishly. Moreover dwarves are particularly touchy about their singing, for the elves themselves sing so delightfully that their fingers itch to pull beards when they hear dwarvish songs. So it was as well for Bilbo that Gandalf chose that moment to look round from under his long bushy eyebrows and harrumph very loudly, as if to say: "You will need a Burglar by and by, and it is too late now to find another one!" Still, they all turned towards him in a most alarming way and Thorin said, "Pray, did you say that our singing sounded elvish?"

"I beg your pardon," squeaked poor Mr Baggins, "in a word, yes!"

You can see quite how flustered he was, or he would certainly never have said anything so impolite. He knew at once that he had made a most dreadful error. Any dwarf would have been cross at being told such a thing and Thorin was no exception. Luckily Gandalf was still wagging his beard meaningfully, so no one cast anything more than a cross look at the hobbit and Thorin merely became very haughty and mentioned once or twice that a person would have to be thoroughly tone-deaf to be make such a foolish mistake. Of course this made Bilbo feel wretchedly uncomfortable and so he became more flustered and bewuthered than ever.

"Well, perhaps I am tone-deaf," he said, around about the fifth time that Thorin mentioned it, "and then again, perhaps I am not. I have heard one or two elvish songs – I had a mother once, Belladonna Took, a most respectable and unadventurous hobbit –"

At this, Thorin let out a long wrathful growl ending in "– elvish!" and he looked so angry that Bilbo begged his pardon at once, and said sorry so many times that at last the dwarf grunted, "Very well, we shall say no more of the matter." But of course he did say more, rather a lot more in fact, and this is more or less what he said.

"Long ago in my far ancestor Durin II's time our family lived in Khazad-dûm, and a deeper, huger, wealthier, more splendid city you never saw. The dwarves of Khazad-dûm had been delving and tunnelling there since the days of Durin the Deathless, and their halls and workshops were stuffed full of gold and jewels, and in addition they had a good deal of mithril too, which I believe they mined from below the city –"

"So they did," interrupted Gandalf, "that was the trouble."

"Anyway," went on Thorin, taking no notice, "they were immensely rich and famous, and all the dwarves of Beleriand (that was the name of all the country west of the Blue Mountains that is now under the sea) used to travel to Khazad-dûm and admire their smithcraft and treat the Kings of Khazad-dûm with great respect. Undoubtedly that was what brought the dwarves of the Blue Mountains there after their own cities were destroyed. For Nogrod and Belegost were both ruined along with Beleriand, you know, and so most of the dwarves who used to live there came down into Eriador and settled in Khazad-dûm. Altogether those were good days, for the Blue Mountain dwarves brought with them such gold and jewels as they had managed to rescue from the ruins of their cities and also a good deal of lore. In those days lore was hard to come by; and so everyone thought that this was a splendid thing and the deep archives of Khazad-dûm became very well-known among everyone who cared for such matters. As well as lore concerning smithcraft and dwarvish histories and many other interesting things of this kind, they knew many songs that had been sung in Nogrod and Belegost long before anyone ever met an elf in those mountains. And so when Durin's Bane awoke and the dwarves fled Khazad-dûm, they took with them many dwarvish songs from olden days that are now sung all over Middle-earth and there is nothing elvish about those songs at all."

You can tell that Thorin was still rather cross, and Bilbo could tell it as well. He said nervously, "Pardon me, but I should very much like to hear more of your songs. I can see now that I was quite wrong to say that they sounded – I mean, I am sure that nothing was ever more dwarvish! I suppose that you have been singing songs from the olden days all along?"

"Yes indeed," said Thorin, "with a few little changes here and there, of course. Solemn songs for solemn days –"

"All the same, there is one point that you have forgotten to explain, Thorin," said Gandalf and twitched his bushy eyebrows. "The archives of Nogrod and Belegost were drowned, you remember, when Beleriand sank beneath the sea."

"True, true," said Thorin.

"Well then, most of their written lore was lost. How any of the dwarves survived I don't know, but I believe that a little help was needed once they were all settled in Khazad-dûm and wanted to preserve their oldest histories and songs, those that had not been commonly heard and so were not commonly known."

"O well," said Thorin airily, "perhaps a little. I did hear that they asked questions of a couple of elves as well, who had been dwarf-friends in the oldest of olden days and who knew something of the dwarvish tongue. I forget their names. There was some matter of a fight that the Blue Mountain dwarves had once got the better of, so they needed a bit of persuading, but as elves are flighty creatures and love shiny things that was not hard. Bless me! but they were well-paid for their trouble. Mithril coats and helms as well, so I have heard, and I can tell you that sort of payment is not soon forgotten. The dwarves of Khazad-dûm treasured the old lore as highly as gold and they were rich enough to let everyone know it."

"So they were," said Gandalf. "And if I am not much mistaken, one of your dwarf-friends still dwells among Elrond's people at Rivendell. That is how I heard of it to begin with. But let us press on! There is a long road ahead and if we go a little faster now we may reach an inn by nightfall."

So on they pressed through the last of the hobbit-country and towards the Lone-lands, where the people were bad and the roads were worse (said Gandalf, making poor Bilbo shiver and think longingly of his cosy hobbit hole). Mind you, matters were not too dreadful yet, for the dwarves were singing their songs from olden days again and the party was actually going along very merrily indeed.

For ancient king and elvish lord
There many a gleaming golden hoard
They shaped and wrought, and light they caught
To hide in gems on hilt of sword...

"And now I know why that sounds elvish!" said Bilbo, but this time he remembered to say it only to himself.

Chapter End Notes

I don't need to comment on this one, do I? The poetry belongs entirely to Tolkien.