Thank you to the kind reviews.

-2-

It turned out that Thorin was a dwarf prince who was on a quest with 12 other dwarves to reclaim their home, for they have been driven out of Erebor by that Smaug guy. According to Bofur, who was also a dwarf, Smaug was the biggest calamity of their age. The dwarves had also told John that they now lived in the Blue Mountains which were in the west of Middle Earth.

Currently they were between a town called Bree and the Misty Mountains. At least that was what Mycroft…Gandalf had told him. John also found out that Mycroft was not large but he was not more than three feet tall. Even smaller than the smallest dwarf Ori. Oh and he was something called a hobbit.

If John wasn't so angry and annoyed with Sherlock, he would have given him credit for the creativity and the attention to the details. But so it was that he only rode behind Mycroft on Myrtle and tried to catch the eldest Holmes brother off guard.

"So this Middle Earth. Is it anywhere near Britain?" he asked as they followed a path which had been hidden behind rocks.

"I can assure you there is no such thing as Britain. A wizard as myself should know" Mycroft answered in his usual bored voice.

"Hang on! What do you mean with wizard? You are no wizard!" John said baffled.

"Of course he is a wizard. He is very famous among the dwarves back at home" said Kili, a young dwarf, enthusiastically, but Mycroft only smiled slightly amused.

"You flatter me Master dwarf" he said, "but I can ensure you I only occupy a minor position in the wizard ranks. Nothing more."

John snorted. "So you basically are the wizard ranks, as you are the British government."

"The Istari are no government. We are simple guardians over Middle Earth" said Mycroft and stopped his horse. As the others stopped theirs as well, Mycroft turned to Thorin. "You now listen to me. You need help with the map which was left to you by your grandfather. You cannot read it but the elves can help us."

He looked at Thorin with a superior expression. "Try not to make it too obvious that you hate them. The elves, especially Lord Elrond, are smart in their own way. Without them you cannot find the hidden door."

With that he left Thorin standing and rode down the path. The dwarf prince shot him an angry glare. He mumbled something in the language of the dwarves and followed Mycroft.

"What hidden door?" asked John who already figured out that he had to play the consulting detectives game along if he ever wanted to get back to Baker Street.

"You have heard Master Gandalf back at your hole" said Dwalin, a mean looking dwarf with a nasty smirk. "He already told you or was it while you had fainted."

"I did not faint" John said appalled.

"Yeah you did" said Dwalin and in his face John could read that the dwarf thought him a weakling.

"Now brother" said Balin, the eldest dwarf and warrior, "Do go easy on our burglar. It's his first adventure and the encounter with the trolls was quite unpleasant for all of us."

Thanks to Bofur every dwarf thought that a meeting with three large mountain trolls had scared John so much that he lost his memory. Sherlock was really creative sometimes.

"Don't mind him" said Balin to John as they rode. "Thror who ruled under the mountain when Smaug attacked, had installed a secret door. He left Thorin, his grandson and heir, a map and a key so he could find the hidden entrance and take back the mountain."

"Why did Smaug attack in the first place?" John asked kind of interested on what Sherlock had come up with now.

Balin smiled fondly, as if he was in a pleasant memory.

"Imagine all the treasures in the work. Gems as white as starlight and gold as shining as the sun. Erebor had it all but our most precious possession was the Arkenstone, the heart of the mountain. It shines with its own light but when outer light fells unto it, it reflects the light into ten thousand sparks with glints of the rainbow."

"I have never heard of something like that" John said with fake amazement.

"There is nothing similar in our world" said Balin and his expression turned into an empty one. "Sadly Smaug had heard of our wealth as well and since his is a possessive and murderous creature he had to have it. The day he came was a black one for Durin's folk. Lots of dwarf blood was split and our mountain lost."

John saw Mycroft and Thorin stopping and he did as well.

"And now you want to take it back?" he asked trying to be polite.

"Yes they try" answered Mycroft for Balin. "But first they need answers and we hope to find them down there."

He pointed his staff down a cliff and Johns gaze followed. He had to blink twice for he could not believe what he was seeing.

Between two mountains, surrounded by rivers and waterfalls was a small village. A village of such beauty that John could only say "Wow".

"This is the valley of Imladris" said Mycroft, "but ordinary people, who are not capable of speaking Elvish, simply call it Rivendell."

"Is it a hologram?" John asked in awe.

Mycroft raid an eyebrow. "If you mean you imagine it, I'd say no. It is quite real."

"How did it get there? I mean I was only out for a couple of hours" said John stunned. "At least that is what I hope. How did he do it?"

Sherlock must have planned this for longer than John had realized.

"It has always been there" said Mycroft in a bored voice, as if it was a burden to speak with other humans, well people.

"Lord Elrond established it in the Second Age and it is used as the last homely house east of the sea. Even elves as Gil-galad…" he stopped himself and looked at Thorin with a fake smile.

"Well you don't need to know about that."

Thorin bowed to him and with a dangerously calm voice said "Vas em bi, Tharkûn."

The group then followed a small path down the cliff and soon found themselves in the village. To John it looked like someone had carved the houses out of ivory and had placed them so neatly together that it looked as if it was only one. The houses were connected with small bridges and streams flowed beneath them. Once John thought he saw a waterfall pouring from a terrace.

When at last they reached a small market square of sorts, Mycroft stopped them and at once a few people came down a staircase. They were the fairest and most beautiful people John had ever seen. They walked with a grace he had never witnessed with humans before and their ears were slightly pointed.

"Daukhel" Bifur, brother of Bofur, growled with dislike.

"Elves" translated Balin for John.

John was busy studying the other elves but when he saw the man coming behind them, he had to stop himself from laughing out loud.

Clad in a robe much like Mycrofts, only of richer material and with a tiara on his salt and pepper hair, Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade came down the stairs.

"Ah Gandalf" he greeted Mycroft in his rough voice. "Do what do I own the pleasure?"

"Lord Elrond" said Mycroft and went over to Greg. For once he looked slightly happy as if he was glad to finally have somebody more intelligent than dwarves near him.

"These dwarves and their leader Thorin Oakenshield came to ask if you could help them with their problem."

"Dwarves are not really my division but I´ll see what I can do" Greg said but then turned to Mycroft with amusement in his voice.

"Wait a minute. Couldn't have you helped?"

Thorin's grin turned into a sneer.

"I prefer a second option on this" Mycroft said with dignity and ignored the dwarf.

"Right then" Greg said and pointed the dwarves up the stairs. "In you go."

The dwarves went upstairs but Greg remained with Mycroft in the square. The Detective Inspector turned to John who had also stayed with a smile.

"And who are you?" he asked.

"Oh come on Greg. You know who I am" John answered, trying to swallow his laughter for that tiara looked absolutely ridiculous.

Greg frowned and turned with a confused look to Mycroft.

"This is a Hobbit from the Shire" Mycroft explained and shot John an annoyed look. "He is known as Bilbo Baggins but since an encounter with trolls which shocked him deeply, he claims to be John Watson."

"Doctor" said John, now also getting annoyed.

"Sorry?" Mycroft asked.

"It's Doctor John Watson and stop pretending as if you bloody don't know" John almost shouted ant to Greg he said "I can't believe you are in on this as well."

Greg, looking deeply troubled, said quietly to Mycroft "Maybe I have a potion for this."

"I don't need a potion" John shouted. "I need you to stop playing along to Sherlock's bloody game."

"Look, Bilbo…John…whatever" Greg said and looked at John like he was a mental patient. "We will find a solution to your problem and if you prefer to call me Greg that is fine."

John groaned and turned around.

"Who is Sherlock?" he heard Greg whisper behind him.

With a yell, John kicked a flower pot into the nearest stream.

The good doctor had enough.

Vas em bi, Tharkûn = So is it, Gandalf

To be continued