Bilbo: What is all this “Your Highness,” All this “His Majesty” pride? It’s still just Thorin! The same dwarf who grumbled at the rain, Who shared his fire when mine had died. But now this confounded King‑business Weighs upon the very air… And this talk of war — Useless thing… I wish it were not there. Bilbo: There’s so much here, Why not share some? Why clutch it like a dragon’s hoard? The gold could feed a hundred hearths, And mend the wrongs the fire has scored. But Thorin’s eyes are burning now, And every dwarf stands iron‑bound… While I hold one stone against my breast And hear three armies on the ground. Gandalf: The hosts of Elves and Lake‑men had encircled the Mountain’s feet. Their banners stirred in the chill wind, and their voices called for parley. But Thorin, son of Thráin, would yield no treasure, nor grant the recompense long owed. And so the shadow of battle lengthened across the valley. Bilbo: I’ll set this straight, I’ll end this quarrel. I’ll offer this to Bard tonight — A sign of friendship, A plea for peace, That hearts may yet be guided right. Let Thorin rage if rage he must; His wrath may rise like mountain height… But I will not see blood be spilled For one proud stone that blinds his sight. Gandalf: And Bilbo the Hobbit, small though he was, brought forth the Arkenstone — the heart of the Mountain. Bard beheld it with wonder, and the Elvenking with grave respect. For they knew its worth, and the weight of the choice the hobbit had made. Bilbo: Ho… what have I done? My hands are trembling. I’ll never understand war — How pride can harden into iron, How gold can sour into grief, How friends can turn to foes Before a single blade is drawn. I only wished for peace… And now I fear I’ve kindled fire Too fierce for me to quell at dawn. Gandalf: And even as they spoke, a rumble rose from the eastward road. Dáin Ironfoot, with five hundred grim dwarves of the Iron Hills, marched toward the Mountain. Their helms shone like beaten steel, their axes glimmered cold, and their war‑horns echoed across the darkening sky. For the day of battle was at hand.
