Chapter 235 A Contract That Can Frighten People
"Don't forget, we still have a Wizard in our team," Kiliskillfully steered the conversation to Gandalf. "Gandalf must have killed hundreds of Dragons in his life."
"No," Gandalf waved his hand awkwardly. "I wouldn't say that."
"I thought so too," Aaron scoffed. "Hundreds of Dragons? That's a bit too imaginative. If Gandalf was really that powerful, why would he need to organize an adventure party?"
"Then how many?" Dori asked eagerly.
"What?"
"How many Dragons have you killed?"
Gandalf, puffing on his pipe, choked and couldn't speak.
"Come on! Give us a number."
Gandalf didn't answer, and the Dwarves seemed to derive a sad answer from his silence, immediately falling into an argument.
The scene instantly became very noisy; the team's morale was in disarray before they even set off.
"Enough!"
Thorin roared as he stood up, and everyone else instantly quieted down.
"If we see the omen, can't others see it too?"
"Excuse me, I'm going to interrupt again. What is the omen?"
Thorin turned his head and glared at him. When adults are talking, why do children interrupt? Can't you see I'm trying to rally morale?
"The omen says the time has come," Oin explained. "There is a prophecy that when the birds of old fly once more to Erebor, the reign of the beast shall end."
"Now rumors are beginning to spread, and the DragonSmaug has not been seen for sixty years. Everyone looks to the Lonely Mountain in the east, observing, pondering, assessing the risks. Perhaps our treasure is unguarded at this moment; should we sit by and watch them plunder it? Or should we seize this opportunity to reclaim Erebor?"
Thorin roared the last sentence, and inspired by their leader, the Dwarves' morale soared.
But Aaron couldn't smile; this adventure might be even more difficult than he imagined.
If Smaug Took the Dwarves' homeland sixty years ago, it means it has lived for at least sixty years, and for sixty years its mere name has kept people from approaching.
This is not a simple magic Dragon; it is at least Dragon King level.
"You forgot one thing, the main gate is sealed," Balin said. "We cannot enter the Lonely Mountain."
"Balin, that's not entirely correct." Gandalf's fingers flickered, and a dark black key appeared in his hand.
Thorin stared intently at the key, asking incredulously, "How did you get it?"
"Your father gave it to me. Thrain asked me to guard it, and now it is yours."
Thorin Took the key, and as if recalling his father, his eyes couldn't help but moisten.
"If there's a key, there must be a door," Fili said.
Gandalf nodded, pointing to the cipher on the map, "The runes say there's a secret passage to the lower halls. But it's hard to find; the Dwarf-doors are invisible when closed. The answer is hidden somewhere on the map, but I can't decipher it yet, though there is someone in Middle-earthwho can."
"The quest I've planned requires secrecy and extraordinary courage," Gandalf said, glancing at Aaron and Bilbo. "If we are careful and cautious, we should succeed."
"So that's why we need a burglar," Ori suddenly realized.
As his voice fell, everyone looked at Aaron and Bilbo, making the two of them exchange glances.
"Mr. Baggins, you were a burglar too!" Aaron teased. "May I ask, are you... professional?"
"I'm not a burglar. I've never stolen anything in my life."
"You're not a burglar." Aaron frowned, then his eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, you're not asking me to steal something, are you?"
"Perhaps," Gandalf Took a puff from his pipe. "In my plan, if Bilbo doesn't go, then you'll have to be the burglar."
"what the f...!" Aaron rolled his eyes. "Is it appropriate for you to bully a child like this?"
"You are no ordinary child." Gandalf tapped Aaron's sleeve with his pipe, and a black magic staff fell out. "Humans with magic are extremely rare even in Middle-earth; you can count them on one hand."
"You're a Wizard?" Thorin asked in surprise.
The others also looked at him with curious eyes, especially Bilbo, who just realized his guest seemed to be hiding a secret.
"Uh... don't all look at me like that." Aaron chuckled and waved his hand. "You've misunderstood, I'm not a Wizard, I have nothing to do with Wizards."
"Then how do you explain this magic staff?" Balin asked.
"An heirloom," Aaron blurted out.
"Heh heh!" Thorin sneered. "We here are quite well-traveled, but we've never heard of any Gaius."
"That's normal, after all, it's been passed down for so many generations." Aaron said, looking angrily at Gandalf, "You know, I can't use any magic."
"It's alright, this adventure might just unleash your potential."
Aaron:...It's never-ending, isn't it!
"But I've never stolen anything. Even if I had experience in that area, how many memories do you think my current brain would have?"
"That's why I put you in the backup position," Gandalf Tooka puff of his pipe. "It mainly depends on Bilbo."
"Me?" Bilbo pointed at himself in confusion. "Are you sure you have the right person?"
"Of course. Hobbits are very agile and can come and go without a trace. And the Dragon is too familiar with the scent of Dwarves, but has never smelled a Hobbit, which will give us a great advantage." Gandalf explained, then looked at Thorin, "You asked me to find the fourteenth companion for the expedition, and I chose Mr. Baggins. And I Took the liberty of adding a fifteenth companion, Aaron Gaius. They may look unremarkable, but the contributions they can make are beyond your imagination; you must trust me on this."
"Alright!" Thorin nodded slightly. "As you wish! Give them the contract."
Balin Took out a folded parchment. "It's just a general contract, outlining the self-funded portions, time required, remuneration, funeral expenses, and so on."
The two looked at each other, then walked aside to read it.
Contract: Payment upon delivery. If there are profits, each person can receive a maximum of one-fifteenth.
"Sounds fair," Bilbo nodded.
"Fair?" Aaron raised an eyebrow. "Thirteen Dwarves, you, me, Gandalf... sixteen people, one-fifteenth each. Although my math isn't great, I know there's a problem, and it's a big problem. Historically, there have been countless bloody cases caused by unfair distribution of spoils!"
"Yes! It should be one-sixteenth."
"Payment upon delivery," Thorin said calmly. "I am responsible for receiving the goods and am not among the fifteen people. Also, that is not stolen money; it is our Dwarf wealth, and we have the right to take it back."
"Then there's no problem," Aaron smiled, continuing to read the rest of the content.
The group shall not be responsible for injuries caused or resulting from the expedition, including but not limited to lacerations.
"Lacerations?" Bilbo paused.
"It's normal, after all, we're stealing things right under the Dragon's nose. If Smaug's claws can't be avoided... that's a laceration."
Bilbo's eye twitched, and he turned to the next item: loss of abdominal organs.
"If the claws pierce a little deeper, it's normal to pull out some organs. If you're lucky enough to see Smaug's Dragonteeth, maybe you won't have to die so painfully; one bite and it's over. But it's no big deal; with a Hobbit's agility, dodging a Dragon's claws and teeth should be easy."
"Haha!" Bilbo's face turned pale. "You're really humorous."
"Many people have complimented me on that."
"Aren't you suffering from amnesia? You still remember so many people?"
"Amnesia can also recover, but mine is recovering slower," Aaron said righteously.
Bilbo was speechless, and looking at the last part of what the group was not responsible for, he couldn't help but swallow.
"And death by incineration?"
"This... at least you won't have to experience the Pain! of lacerations and organ loss."
"You're even more humorous than I thought." Bilbo placed the contract in Aaron's hand, then squatted down, resting his hands on his legs, as if he had just run a marathon, breathing very rapidly.
"Are you alright, little brother?" Balin asked.
"I'm fine," Bilbo waved his hand, taking several deep breaths. "I just feel a little dizzy."
"Imagine it's a winged incinerator..." Bofur stood up and briefly described it.
"I need air."
"In a flash of lightning, you'll turn to ashes."
Bilbo straightened up, and after a few seconds, he finally couldn't hold on any longer.
"No."
Bang!
The Hobbit fainted from fright.
"You guys are really unhelpful!" Gandalf said, exasperated.
"This is necessary," Aaron signed his name neatly in the burglar column of the contract: Aaron Gaius, son of Vico Gaius.
"I'm telling the truth; the reality will only be more brutal. It's better to faint now than when we see the Dragon, right?"
"I think so too," Bofur said.
"Oh, come on! You didn't mean to scare him, but what you said was much more vivid than mine."
"Why aren't you afraid?" Thorin asked.
"This... perhaps my psychological resilience is better!"
Just kidding, I've witnessed the entire process of human dissection. A mere Dragon is incomparable to Moer; his specimen room is truly terrifying.
Aaron squatted down, placing one hand on Bilbo's philtrum and the other on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.
"Water."
Gandalf handed over a wine glass, and Aaron examined it, his mouth twitching slightly, "Isn't this too cruel! Are you giving me a cup of hot water because you're afraid it won't scald him to death?"
"Sorry, I thought you wanted to give him water to drink," Gandalf said apologetically, then got a glass of cold water.
Pfft!
Aaron directly splashed it on Bilbo's face, and the Hobbit's eyes immediately opened, but he still seemed to be reeling from the shock.
"You can do this too?" Gandalf asked curiously.
"A little, my ancestors were doctors."
"Didn't you say your ancestors were blacksmiths?" Filiasked.
"No, Fili, he just said his ancestors were magicians."
"My great-great-grandfather was a blacksmith, my great-great-great-grandfather was a doctor, and my great-great-great-great-grandfather's uncle was a magician, is that not allowed?"
The two Dwarf brothers looked at each other, always feeling that something wasn't quite right, but they couldn't put their finger on it.
"Gandalf, lend a hand and help Bilbo to the fireplace."
"Alright!"
...More than half an hour later, the Dwarves were resting in a room.
Bilbo, holding a cup of water, sat by the fireplace. "I'm fine, just let me sit a bit longer."
"You've been sitting too long," Gandalf said, frustrated. "Since when did your mother's tablecloths and porcelain become so important to you? I remember the little boy who used to look for Elves in the woods, always staying out late, coming home after dark, dragging branches, mud, and fireflies. That little Hobbit only wanted to know what lay beyond the borders of the Shire. This world isn't in your books and maps; it's out there."
"I can't just wander out there. I am Baggins of Bag End."
"Such comfortable righteousness, but this scene seems familiar!" Aaron smiled thoughtfully. Gandalf persuading Bilbo is roughly equivalent to Vico persuading Aaron, no problem there.
"Bilbo, you have Took blood," Gandalf said, pointing to a portrait on the wall. "Do you know your great-great-great-granduncle, Bullroarer Took, was so large he could ride a real horse?"
"Yes."
"That's right, he could. In the Battle of Green Fields, he charged the Orc army and swung his club so hard at the OrcKing's head that he knocked it a hundred yards away into a rabbit hole. He won the war and invented the game of golf."
"Is that how golf was invented?" Aaron's mouth twitched slightly. "But hitting the Orc King's head, that's too much! Even if you remove the words 'King,' that sentence would still have some truth to it."
Bilbo, however, unconsciously smiled. Although he knew Gandalf made it up, anyone would like to hear such praise for their ancestors.
"All good stories are worth embellishing," Gandalf glanced at Aaron. "When you two return, you'll have several good stories to tell too."
"That's one of my goals, I suppose!" Aaron sighed. "But I don't want stories, I want legends."
"That goal seems a bit grand, hard to achieve," Gandalflaughed. "But I have to say, this adventure is exactly your chance."
"Can you guarantee I'll come back?"
"He can't," Aaron interjected. "If he could, that contract wouldn't be written so exaggeratedly. We are exchanging our lives for reward and a profoundly meaningful adventure."
"But you signed it."
"Yes, you signed it." Bilbo said, then paused for a moment before looking at Aaron in surprise. "You signed it, that contract? When? Why didn't you tell me?"
"While you were unconscious. As for why I didn't tell you... I think there are some things I can still decide for myself."
"But, but you're just a child," Bilbo said somewhat anxiously. "Go find Thorin and amend the contract; you don't need to take such a risk."
"No," Aaron said decisively. "The Gaius Family values the spirit of contract above all else. Even if it's just a common contract, since I signed it, I must abide by it to the end."
"You, really..." Bilbo stood up from the sofa. "This is too hasty. You saw that contract, lacerations, loss of abdominal organs, death by incineration... My goodness, do you know how high the mortality rate is?"
"I know, I signed the contract after careful consideration."
"You heard that, that's the courage of Gaius," Gandalf said. "So, what about you, are you willing to join the expedition?"
"Sorry, Gandalf, I can't sign. You've found the wrong Hobbit."
With that, Bilbo walked out of the room.
"Looks like you didn't convince him?" Aaron teased. "Are you feeling very disappointed?"
"Bilbo will join," Gandalf said confidently. "He has Tookblood, he is Belladonna's son; the adventurous gene in his bones will urge him to make a choice."
"I think so too," Aaron shrugged. "But it has nothing to do with his family background; I just simply feel that way."