Unfinished Tales - J. R. R. Tolkien [199]
‘But you know how things went, at any rate as Bilbo saw them. The story would sound rather different, if I had written it. For one thing he did not realize at all how fatuous the Dwarves thought him, nor how angry they were with me. Thorin was much more indignant and contemptuous than he perceived. He was indeed contemptuous from the beginning, and thought then that I had planned the whole affair simply so as to make a mock of him. It was only the map and the key that saved the situation.
‘But I had not thought of them for years. It was not until I got to the Shire and had time to reflect on Thorin’s tale that I suddenly remembered the strange chance that had put them in my hands; and it began now to look less like chance. I remembered a dangerous journey of mine, ninety-one years before, when I had entered Dol Guldur in disguise, and had found there an unhappy Dwarf dying in the pits. I had no idea who he was. He had a map that had belonged to Durin’s folk in Moria, and a key that seemed to go with it, though he was too far gone to explain it. And he said that he had possessed a great Ring.
‘Nearly all his ravings were of that. The last of the Seven he said over and over again. But all these things he might have come by in many ways. He might have been a messenger caught as he fled, or even a thief trapped by a greater thief. But he gave the map and the key to me. “For my son,” he said; and then he died, and soon after I escaped myself. I stowed the things away, and by some warning of my heart I kept them always with me, safe, but soon almost forgotten. I had other business in Dol Guldur more important and perilous than all the treasure of Erebor.
‘Now I remembered it all again, and it seemed clear that I had heard the last words of Thráin the Second, 4 though he did not name himself or his son; and Thorin, of course, did not know what had become of his father, nor did he ever mention “the last of the Seven Rings”. I had the plan and the key of the secret entrance to Erebor, by which Thrór and Thráin had escaped, according to Thorin’s tale. And I had kept them, though without any design of my own, until the moment when they would prove most useful.
‘Fortunately, I did not make any mistake in my use of them. I kept them up my sleeve, as you say in the Shire, until things looked quite hopeless. As soon as Thorin saw them he really made up his mind to follow my plan, as far as a secret expedition went at any rate. Whatever he thought of Bilbo he would have set out himself. The existence of a secret door, only discoverable by Dwarves, made it seem at least possible to find out something of the Dragon’s doings, perhaps even to recover some gold, or some heirloom to ease his heart’s longings.
‘But that was not enough for me. I knew in my heart that Bilbo must go with him, or the whole quest would be a failure – or, as I should say now, the far more important events by the way would not come to pass. So I had still to persuade Thorin to take him. There were many difficulties on the road afterwards, but for me this was the most difficult part of the whole affair. Though I argued with him far into the night after Bilbo had retired, it was not finally settled until early the next morning.
‘Thorin was contemptuous and suspicious. “He is soft,” he snorted. “Soft as the mud of his Shire, and silly. His mother died too soon. You are playing some crooked game of your own, Master Gandalf. I am sure that you have other purposes than helping me.”
‘ “You are quite right,” I said. “If I had no other purposes, I should not be helping you at all. Great as your affairs may seem to you, they are only a small strand in the great web. I am concerned with many strands. But that should make my advice more weighty, not less.” I spoke at last with great heat. “Listen to me, Thorin Oakenshield!” I said. “If this hobbit goes with you, you will succeed. If not, you will fail. A foresight is on me, and I am warning you.”
‘ “I know your fame,” Thorin