PLEASE read this before the next chapter! As you can see, I'm not english, so i just translated this fic from Italian...for the first chap I was kindly helped by an american friend...but now he can't help me no more, so this chapter is all translated by myself :) I'd like to kindly ask you...will you please tell me, after reading, if there are bad errors? And if yes...there's someone who would be so gently to help me translate even the further chapter? Thank you so much for your patience :D

CHAPTER 2: Sad omens on the river's edge

The next morning, Bilbo was awakened by a wind lashing in the face. The Sun was already high up in the sky, and his sleep continued longer then the other's one, thanks to that rock on his head, that launched shadows on his face.
As he was awake and aware of the place where he was, as he suddenly understood what was happening, he shivered: it was a fresh morning, a gentle wind was caressing mountains, which shone bright of green and silver, not anymore flaming.

However what awakened him wasn't the faint morning wind, but a whip of wind from the powerful wings of an eagle, that now was looking at him intensely, his head bent down under the rock that protected Bilbo for the night, so damn near to his face…the eagle was turning the head right and left, with curiosity…Bilbo wasn't so enthusiastic about that: he sprang from his bedding, knocking his head on the rock, and scaring the magnificent beast that,in answer, irritated and impatient, launched a high screech at him, so powerful that the poor hobbit couldn't do anything but coming out the faster he could from his refuge, urged from the eagle.

"Calm down, Miss!...or Mister! I don't think this are good manners!" Bilbo lifted up his voice, standing in all his 'height', settling his waistcoat and the few left buttons lost in the Gollum's cavern; he brushed his curly hairs with his hands.
As he gained some of the old seriousness, Bilbo sighed to the eagle, and this time the beast didn't grab him between his claws as he did to save him from the orcs, but he bent down gently, letting him climbing on his wings.

Before jumping on the back of the magnifying creature, Bilbo hardly saw, just in time, the other eagles with his companions on their back, hovering high in the sky, between the clouds. He was surely late.
He struggled to climb between the wings of the enormous bird, clinging and pulling some of his feathers,, and that irritated a lot the beast; while he was managing to sit on him, Bilbo could barely see, on a near peak, another eagle with his wings opened, ready to set up in flying; on his back, Thorin was sitting with no fear and great magnificence.

The first thing Bilbo noticed, and that made him sigh in relief, was that Thorin wounds weren't a problem anymore, since he was standing so fiercely with his spine so straight and his face that looked up in the sky. The breeze that moved the feathers of the eagles, was waving his long and black hair, offering a so rare and majestic show.

Bilbo, however, realized fast that he had to divert his eyes from him, and close up his fingers around the feathers of the eagle he was riding: the bird opened the great wings, and, with a powerful whip, he hovered in the void in front of them, giving to the hobbit' eyes the sight of the valley under them…however, after wind whipped him in the eyes, he tightened them up, while the eagles kept on getting higher and higher, until he decided to start planning on the valley with great circles.

Near them, rushed the eagles that was carrying Thorin: the eagles got side to side, and as the dwarf saw the miserable being, so desperately clinging to the eagles' feathers (and can bet he was not happy at all about this), he burst out in a laugh, one of those you rarely can hear from the dwarf king…

"Mister Baggins, do not fear! You're safe!" The dwarf shouted, while lowering on the eagle's back, to ride a tide of wind they encountered while descending, and the eagle relaxed his wings, so that their flying was now really calm and peaceful.
The hobbit barely opened an eye out to Thorin, and seeing himself so high gave him nothing but shivers down his spine.
He swallowed noisily, and he struggled to set himself up again for the dwarf's eyes, trying to sit up better on the back of the beast, with his eyes wide opened as the fear of the height caught him, and those eyes were weeping a lot since the wind lashed them. So, after he gained some stability he was going to open his mouth, a finger up in the air to achieve a smarter look, when the eagle made him cry out loud, and he was convinced to grip again into his feathers with both hands, while again they started to fall faster, riding another tide of wind.

Thorin smiled, preparing himself for the descent. His spirit felt lighter, as if escaping death gave him the assurance that, after that, nothing could stop them anymore. Not even Mirkwood, dark and thick, that stood out in the distance, could scare him. He watched remotely Erebor, with eyes full of nostalgia mixed with hope; the home of his ancestors stood silently on the orizon, Solitary, in fact. It was there, and was just awaiting for his ancient owner to go and reclaim it.

And in that moment, riding those magnificent beasts, Thorin felt a growing pride and willfulness in his heart, a vivid spark light up again into him, so alive and bright. At his side he could count on a company made of fantastic creatures, unique…and while thinking about this, he leaded his eyes again on the poor Bilbo, whose eagles was reaching the valley…without any doubt, unique. Tiny, cocky…yet so brave, his eyes always sparkling bright of curiosity and lunging for adventure, as if he had those feelings running down in his blood. He would have surely committed the biggest error of his life if, that day, he would have decided not to take him with them.

The eagle finally stood on the earth, using his big wings to slow down, and it let slowly Thorin slipping down from his spine; the dwarf gave him a caress on his neck's feather's, and a bow. The eagle appreciated that a lot, and smacked his beak a couple of time, then he went together with his siblings around his Lord, which transported there Gandalf.
As Thorin was about to go to his companions, the sound of a persistent pecking mixed with angry and understandable mumbling caught his attention.

Bilbo was struggling to get down from his mount, which seemed not to appreciate the way he was clinging into his feathers not to fall down, and he beat his claws on the floor and his beak on the rocks, annoyed.

The company turned around, laughing out loud at the comic show that the hobbit was offering, while Thorin walked near the big eagle that, for sure, wasn't helping the little one to get off, fussing so much, fearing that the hobbit would rip off some of his feathers. As Thorin was near him, he placed his hands on his head, trying to calm him down in the dwarf language…not that he could understand it, but because the dwarf could better express himself in that way…and it seemed to work. The eagle stopped and calmly stared Thorin' eyes, while Bilbo could slip off from his back, and however he fell on the floor with a stomp and some curse that didn't suit an educated hobbit.

The eagle turned at the poor little victim, screeching into his face with his language, then he left quickly, leaving Bilbo grunting; Thorin got near him, reaching for his hands to help him standing up "A creature that scatters by himself an orc, and kill a warg still alone…and yet can't deal with a bird".

Bilbo gnashed his teeth, mumbling a " The warg was a pure fortune", while he grasped for his hands, helping him; he cleaned his vests from the dirt, then Fili and Kili came to quickly push him to the company, anxious to leave.
They were all cheerful that morning; they were all refreshed from the eagles' help.
Gandalf and the company said goodbye to the eagles, thanking and blessing them, which departed behind their Lord, to the higher mountains.

When the shapes of the eagles were already too distant in the sky, the company finally reached the Great River.
There, Thorin decided to make out a camp, to feast with the remains of the dinner offered from the eagles last evening, and to explain them what were his real intentions.
There explained the dwarfs that he would lead them to a creature that would have helped them, an avoiding creature, living to the border of the Mirkwood.
Many chatters were flowing between the dwarfs that morning, which all began to imagine what could that creature be…Gandalf told them that he was a good creature, but he told them even to beware of him: because listening to the wizard, this was a 'skin-changer', a beast that lived in touch with animals, and can transform himself into one of them, talk and live with them.
Bilbo was fascinated: he heard about many strange creatures in his adventure books, but never about a 'skin-changer'; he heard about elves, about orcs (and in fact he encountered many of both races during their travel, and many other they would encounter), about dragons…but never about this mysterious beings.

Bilbo started to feel the lunging for water rising in his throat; he had not drank a drop of water since he woke up, and the Great River which flowed near, offered a lot of it. He departed for some time from the company, without saying a word…but we already know that hobbits are sneaky, and none noticed the fact that he was not sitting there anymore.
As he arrived to the river, he sat down, dipping his hands into it and washing them, before washing even his face to fully wake up and then drinking some gulp of water.

"You'll end up chocking" A voice at his shoulder made him wince, a hiccup came out from his throat, so high that the water he was swallowing chocked him a bit, and he started coughing a lot, with his eyes that began shinnying for the tears of chafe.
Thorin approached him smily, slapping his back between his shoulderblades, so heavily that nearly Bilbo lost balance and fell into the water.

When he recovered, the hobbit dried his mouth with the sleeve of the tunic, turning to his 'attacker', that now sat near him…he lifted an air into the air with a false threatening look on his face…but then words stopped into his throat, remembering good manners, and of course that he wasn't talking to a whatever dwarf.

He lowered his eyes, clearing his voice "The situation WAS under control" and he said that with a note in his voice that let out a certain annoyance, but without letting himself out too much.

Thorin sat near him, looking at the river that divided them from Mirkwood. Bilbo noticed that he was preoccupied. There always was a melancholic and concerned look in his eyes, even if his mood rised after that night…and the hobbit noticed even that.
Again, he cleared his voice, and went on talking " There is…something that concerns you?".

Thorin rised an amused frown to his companion, then he shook a bit his head…he looked down at his knees, then he turned again to watch Bilbo "Why…you think that there should not be something?"

Biblo cursed himself and his tongue…he always asked for stupid questions. But, indeed, he was a hobbit, he didn't understand of how he should talk to a king of what concerned him, he wasn't accustomed to great chattering at the presence of royal people. He opened and closed his mouth lots of time, without knowing what to say anymore, until Thorin, understanding that he imbarassed the hobbit, talked "You have to excuse me, young boy; my race is not one of those used to understand good manners in conversations". Bilbo felt relieved hearing those words; he gathered some courage, he sat a bit straightened, and said "I only meant that…we arrived at a good point, no? Now we're…near to Erebor, there is not a so long way in front of us".

The candor and simplicity of the hobbit were disarming; Thorin smiled again…he couldn't understand if it was him that troubled too much, or if the hobbit was too unwary in his thoughts.
He let out a deep sigh, as if he wanted to let out from his chest a heavy burden, he turned with a sad smile to Bilbo, which was looking at him apprehensively, but not naive…he was very aware, of his concerns.

Before he started talking, Thorin leaned his head to the wood, and raised an arm to point out the black and intricate threes that stood at the other side of the river, not too far away from the look. "My desire, is that you all come out from that wood safe and alive; I'd like that none of you has to spend a drop of blood for this expedition, this what concerns me…"

Those words upset Bilbo a lot, and to hide the concern in his eyes, turned his look to the river, which was quickly flowing in front of them…and now, it seemed to him that the river and the wood in front of them were slowly coming to grab him…

But that net of dark thought were broken by a strong hand, which grasped his shoulder, and Thorin' eyes lightened up of a bright and warm sparkle, which made the hobbit shiver again, but not for fear, not anymore " This is what concerns me…not the fact that we cannot reach Erebor, but not having you all there with me to celebrate, all safe, is my first concern. I'll do anything I can to make this happen".

Thorin saw that Bilbo was really afraid at the idea…he wasn't accustomed to the wildly life, risking everyday to lose a friend or yourself. And his first thought, was to keep up the little hobbit's spirit, which now was wavering, making him resemble so small, even frail under his big hand…but Bilbo was even heartened from those words. He shily nodded, then lowering his head; Thorin was, for sure, a king…only a king, or a great leader, could get confidence back in his fellows heart, with so few words.

Thorin moved his hand to his head, ruffling his curly hairs like he was a child; then he drank some gulp of water, and invited the still trembling hobbit back to the camp with him, where they were welcomed by the company, ready to leave.

During all the travel, while Gandalf resumed his words about how the dwarf should talk and behave with that creature they would meet, Bilbo spaced out in his thoughts. The courage that he gathered the evening before, was now starting to shake…again. Thorin's words sounded like a doom's bell in his head, a bad omen…and even if Thorin was trying to keep him safe…to keep THEM, safe! "Bilbo Baggins wake up!" He mumbled by himself…he dared to think that Thorin, speaking in that epocal way, was just referring to his safety, and not even the other's one. A selfish…and wrong thought, moreover. He shook his curly hair; feet started to hurt, and even if Gandalf stories about the 'skin-changer" were well entertaining the dwarfs, which were squeaking excitedly like squirrels, Bilbo had lost interest in anything, and was dragging himself along the river.

"Young one, are you ok?" The kindly and protective voice of Balin waked him from his thought with a "Oh! Mister Balin!" and a little smile.

"You seem pale…and tired. Did you not get enough sleep this night? You have not eaten properly, maybe? There is something left, if you want!" Balin beat his hand on the hobbit shoulder may times, to give him courage, bowing down to reach his 'height', like he wanted to conceal their conversation and not make the others notice the hobbit' weakness. Balin was always so kind, he had a noble behavior, and the hobbit's felt like he was talking to his uncle or his grandfather, when he was there.

Bilbo smiled, and raised his hands in front of him, shaking them "Thank you, really! I ate and overslept, but I think I'll never get used to this kind of…travels" and saying so, he let his head go on his chest, beaten.

Balin again laughed between his teeth, again slapped a hand on his back "And I wish that you NEVER have to get used to it, young boy!" You'll see…when all this will be over, we'll everyone just have to rest for our left days, and enjoy our loot…"

This thought cheered up Bilbo, in a first moment…enjoying his couch, his fireplace, his pipe…and yet, arrived at that time in the adventure, it was like his warm home, was a distant memories…and something that lost value in his mind.

And when he thought about that "everyone" from Balin, his look went to Thorin…and smiling, mumbled "Well…not anyone will rest…"
Balin rised up a questioning frown…then, he blurted out with a "Aaah!", understanding about whom the hobbit was speaking "Well, young boy…he fought with all his strength to claim back Erebor…I fear he doesn't even want to sit down and rest for the rest of his days, and let someone else reconstruct it".

If just one of those two, would have known how the story would end…they'd never smile, thinking about the future.