[Thenamir]

======== Blue Mountains =========

The Shire had been bright and clean and almost too polite, but the common room at The Prancing Pony was more to Theron Axehand's liking -- a boisterous room full of "characters", noisy conversations, ale and food both in good measure and good quality. One of the locals had told him that the kegs of the Prancing Pony had been laid under a spell by the wizard Gandalf for exceptional quality, and after tasting the brew, be believed it. Too bad Gandalf had been such a flighty creature before he left Middle Earth from the Havens, Theron thought to himself. He would have liked to get to know a wizard that appreciated the finer qualities of good ale in the mug and good leaf in the pipe.

He observed with some interest that even Mikhelm was not grumbling as much as before, but set to his meal with amiable conversation among the hobbits at the table. He knew Mikhelm well enough to know that he had his "mannerly face" on at present. Whether he'd be able to keep that face on while enduring a long trip with chatty hobbits (not to mention elf folk) was not even a question. Mikhelm would be back to his grumbling self in a couple of days at the latest. Still, ther was a small crack in Mikhelm's grumbling wall, and he intended to take advantage of it.

Serin, it appeared, was wasting no time in getting acquainted with the world outside Belegost, and with the hobbits and locals in particular. He was very inquisitive about local goods, how and where they were produced and in what quantities, whether trade between them might be possible, and who he would have to see about this or that commodity. Theron smiled invisibly beneath his thick beard. Serin was a born trader. Such a waste to have had him so long cooped up in the mines.

Theron stuffed his pipe with some Old Toby (a gift from Mayor Samwise), and lit it with a wisp of straw ignited in the candle flame. He drew deeply on the pipe and blew several concentric smoke rings across the table and over the heads of the hobbits, who watched bemused.

"Did you know, my excellent hobbits," Theron began with a theatrical flair during a momentary lull in the conversation, "that I was friends with the great Thorin Oakenshield before he went off to the Lonely Mountain with your Bilbo Baggins of song and story?" The hobbits were momentarily wide-eyed at this revelation, but they soon began peppering him with questions.