The morning of their departure dawned clear and bright, the sun painting the hills of the Shire in golden hues. Escanor stood before Bag End, Rhitta resting comfortably on his back, his armor stowed in his luggage but easily accessible should he need it.
Bilbo appeared at the door, looking considerably less enthusiastic than the day before.
"I can still stay," she said hopefully. "Tell them I've changed my mind. Go back to my normal, respectable life."
"You could," Escanor agreed. "But then you'd spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been."
Wondering if you had the courage when it mattered most.
—That's playing dirty.
"He's honest," Escanor smiled. "Besides, I've seen you these past few days. There's a spark in your eyes that wasn't there before. Excitement, perhaps. Or anticipation. I recognize it because I feel it too."
Bilbo sighed, but he could not completely deny Escanor's words.
—You promised to take care of me, right?
"With my life," Escanor said with absolute seriousness. "You're my friend, Bilbo Baggins. And I protect my friends."
"Right," Bilbo said, squaring his shoulders. "So I guess we're going to take a mountain back from a dragon. How normal!"
The dwarves were already gathered along the road, their ponies laden with supplies. Thorin was inspecting the baggage with a critical eye, while Gandalf spoke quietly to Balin. The younger brothers, Fíli and Kíli, were practicing swordplay, their laughter filling the morning air.
" Ah, there they are!" called Bofur cheerfully. "I thought the hobbit had changed his mind!"
"I almost did," admitted Bilbo. "But apparently I have some very persuasive friends."
" Is Escanor going to walk?" Óin asked , looking at the warrior. "There aren't any ponies big enough for someone his size."
"I will walk," Escanor confirmed. "I will not tire."
" Are you sure?" Kili looked skeptical. "It's a long way to Erebor."
In response, Escanor simply smiled. He allowed a touch of his power to flow through him, just enough to make his skin glow softly with golden light. The air around him grew noticeably warmer.
—I'll be fine.
The dwarves exchanged impressed glances. Even after hearing the stories, seeing Escanor's power firsthand was something else entirely.
"Then let's go," declared Thorin, mounting his pony. "We have a long way to go, and every day that passes is another day that Smaug sleeps on our gold."
The Company set off, leaving the Shire behind. Bilbo glanced back several times during the first hour, watching his beloved home grow smaller and smaller in the distance. Escanor walked beside him, his pace steady and effortless, Rhitta swaying gently with each movement.
" Do you ever miss having a home?" asked Bilbo as they rode across open fields.
A place you can always return to.
"You can't miss what you don't remember having," Escanor replied. "But sometimes, on quiet nights, I feel... something. Like an echo of a place I once knew. A sense of belonging that's gone."
—That sounds terribly lonely.
"Sometimes it is," Escanor admitted. "But then I find new connections. New friends. Like you, Bilbo. And that makes the loneliness easier to bear."
Bilbo smiled at that, feeling a little better about leaving his home.
—You know, for someone who seems so... imposing, you're surprisingly philosophical.
"Strength without wisdom is only brutality," Escanor said. "I've learned that the most important battles aren't always fought with swords."
Gandalf, who had been riding nearby, laughed softly.
"You speak like one of the Istari, Escanor. Are you sure you don't have any magic in your blood?"
"My power is different from magic," Escanor replied. "It's... more fundamental, in a way. Like the sun itself."
"Fascinating," murmured Gandalf. "Absolutely fascinating."
Three days later
The journey had been relatively peaceful so far. They had passed through small villages and farms, crossed rivers, and traveled through forests. The dwarves had sung their songs (some cheerful, some melancholic), shared stories of Erebor before Smaug, and had gradually come to accept Bilbo and especially Escanor as part of their company.
Fíli and Kíli, in particular, had taken a great liking to Escanor. The young brothers constantly bombarded him with questions about his battles, his fighting techniques, and especially about his power.
" So you can really summon the sun?" Kili asked as they camped for the third night. "Like, the actual sun?"
"Not exactly," Escanor said, stirring the fire with a stick. "It's more like... channeling the essence of the sun. Its heat, its light, its power. I can concentrate it, shape it, use it as a weapon."
" Could you show us?" Fili leaned forward eagerly.
Escanor looked at Thorin, who nodded briefly. The dwarf leader was also clearly curious, though he was too proud to ask directly.
"Very well," Escanor said, getting up and walking about twenty meters from the camp. "Watch."
He closed his eyes, reaching for the power within him. Sunshine responded instantly, flooding his veins with warmth and light. He opened his eyes, which now shone with a golden glow, and raised his hand.
A golden sphere of fire materialized on his palm, no larger than an apple but radiating an intense heat that everyone could feel even from a distance. The sphere rotated slowly, casting dancing shadows on the surrounding trees.
"This is Cruel Sun," Escanor said, his voice booming with power. "A miniature of the sun itself. I can make it bigger, hotter, more destructive. Or I can..."
The sphere split into multiple smaller spheres that orbited his hand like planets around a star.
—Control it precisely.
The dwarves watched, mouths agape. Even Dwalin, the battle-hardened warrior, looked impressed.
Gandalf smoked his pipe thoughtfully, his eyes shining with fascination.
"Extraordinary," Balin murmured. "I've seen a lot of magic in my days, but this is... different."
"Because it isn't magic," said Gandalf. "It's something more fundamental. Isn't that right, Escanor?"
"Correct." Escanor closed his hand, and the spheres vanished. "Magic manipulates the world. My power is part of the world itself. A natural law personified."
"And when you fight at your full power..." Thorin spoke for the first time in hours, "how strong do you become?"
Escanor looked him straight in the eyes.
—Strong enough to match a dragon.
The silence that followed was absolute. Then Bofur let out a nervous laugh.
—Well, that's a relief! I thought we might have trouble with Smaug!
"Do not underestimate Smaug," Gandalf warned gravely. "He is ancient, cunning, and tremendously powerful."
Even with Escanor, this will be a difficult battle.
"But we have a chance," said Thorin, and there was something like hope in his voice. "A real chance."
"We always had it," Escanor replied. "My power simply improves the odds."
He returned to the fire, resuming his place next to Bilbo, who had been watching him with a mixture of amazement and slight concern.
"That was... intense," whispered the hobbit.
—Did it scare you?
"A little," admitted Bilbo. "But it also made me feel safer. Knowing that someone so powerful is on our side."
"I'm not invincible, Bilbo," Escanor said softly. "I can be hurt. I can be defeated. And if I face Smaug... there's a chance I won't survive."
"Don't say that," Bilbo frowned. "You have to survive. Who else will remind me that I'm braver than I think?"
Escanor smiled, touching the hobbit's shoulder affectionately.
—Then I suppose I'll have to make sure I survive. I can't leave you without your personal philosopher, after all.
That night, while the others slept
Escanor was on guard, sitting on a rock overlooking his camp. The night was quiet, broken only by the occasional hoot of an owl. Rhitta rested against the rock beside him, always within easy reach.
A rustling of twigs announced Thorin's arrival. The dwarf king sat beside Escanor without saying a word for several minutes.
"I don't trust easily," Thorin finally said. "My people have been betrayed too many times. By elves who refused to help us in our darkest hour. By men who coveted our gold. Even by some of our own kind who deserted us when Smaug attacked."
"I understand," Escanor replied.
"But you..." Thorin looked at him sideways, "... you're different . You don't seek gold. You don't seek glory. When Gandalf asked you why you joined this quest, you said it was your purpose. What does that mean?"
Escanor considered the question carefully.
—It means that I feel, deep in my soul, that there's a reason I'm here. In this world, at this moment, with this company. I can't explain it any better than that. It's like... as if the universe itself put me on this path.
"Destiny," Thorin murmured.
—Maybe. Or maybe it's just a choice. I chose to come when I could have stayed. I chose to risk my life for people I barely know. Is that destiny? Or is it simply who I am?
Thorin nodded slowly.
"My grandfather, Thrór, used to talk about destiny . He said some are born for greatness, others for tragedy, and the luckiest for both." His voice grew hoarse with emotion. "He lost his mind to dragon gold before the end. The dragon sickness, we call it. Greed that consumes reason and honor."
" Are you worried that the same thing might happen to you?" Escanor asked gently.
"Every day," Thorin admitted. "The gold of Erebor is legendary. The Arkenstone alone could buy kingdoms. What if, when we finally get it back, I become like him? What if I forget why we're doing this and only see the treasure?"
Escanor placed a hand on the dwarf's shoulder, the gesture firm but comforting.
—Then I'll be there to remind you. Balin will be there. Gandalf will be there. All of us will be there to make sure you don't lose sight of what really matters.
—And what is that?
"Your people. To give them a home again. To restore not just a kingdom, but hope." Escanor smiled. "Gold is just metal, Thorin. Valuable, yes, but not as valuable as honor. Not as valuable as legacy. Not as valuable as the chance to be the king your people need."
Thorin looked at him for a long moment, then nodded slowly.
—Gandalf was right about you. You're not just a warrior. You're someone who understands what truly matters.
"I have lived without memories of my past," Escanor said. "That has taught me that we are not defined by where we come from, but by what we choose to do with the time we have. You, Thorin Oakenshield, have the opportunity to define yourself as a great king. Do not waste it for gold you cannot take with you when you die."
—Wise words—a voice spoke from the darkness, and Gandalf emerged from the woods, his pipe glowing in the gloom. —I should have known I would find two insomniacs plotting together.
"We weren't conspiring," said Thorin, though there was humor in his voice. "Just... talking."
"The best thing to do on a quiet night," Gandalf said, sitting down with them, his bones creaking slightly. "Enjoy it while you can. We will soon be entering more dangerous territory."
"The trolls," Escanor said. It wasn't a question.
Gandalf looked at him sharply.
- As...?
"I've heard rumors on my travels. Three mountain trolls have been hunting in these lands."
Stupid, but dangerous. And we're right in their hunting grounds.
"Indeed," Gandalf said, looking impressed. "I was planning to warn the company tomorrow. Though with your power, Escanor, I doubt the trolls will pose much of a threat."
"Trolls turn to stone in sunlight," Escanor said, a smile playing on his lips. "And I can provide sunlight at will. Yes, they won't be a problem."
"Arrogant," Thorin remarked, but there was approval in his tone.
"Confident," Escanor corrected. "Arrogance is believing you're invincible. Confidence is knowing your strengths and using them wisely."
"Another philosophical lesson," Gandalf chuckled softly. "You really should consider a career as a teacher, Escanor. You have a gift for it."
"Perhaps in another life," Escanor replied, his voice tinged with a melancholy he couldn't fully explain.
Thorin and Gandalf noticed but made no comment. Instead, the three of them sat in friendly silence, each lost in their own thoughts as night fell around them.
Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled. The three warriors (for Gandalf, for all his years, was still a warrior at heart) automatically tensed, hands moving toward weapons.
But the howl went unanswered. After a moment, they relaxed again.
"Soon," Thorin said softly. "Soon we will face real dangers. Orcs, wargs, who knows what else. Are you ready, Escanor?"
Escanor looked at his hands, large and calloused, hands that had held enough power to equal the sun itself.
"I've been preparing all my life," he said. "Even the parts I can't remember."
And deep in his mind, something stirred. A memory of another battle, another time. Comrades whose faces he couldn't see but whose presence he could feel. A love that burned as brightly as his power but had never been reciprocated.
I'm ready , he thought to himself. For these new friends. For this new cause. For this new purpose.
I'm ready to shine.
The next day, at nightfall
"The ponies are gone," Fíli announced, returning to the camp with a worried expression. "All of them. And there are footprints. Big ones."
"Trolls," Dwalin growled, rising with his axe in hand. "Damn trolls."
"We need those ponies," Thorin said, his voice harsh. "They're carrying our supplies. Without them, we won't reach Erebor."
"Then we'll get them back," Escanor said simply, standing up and taking Rhitta. "Where are the footprints?"
Kíli pointed west, where the forest became denser.
—Over there. And there's light too. Like a fire.
"Of course there's a fire," muttered Bilbo. "The trolls are probably cooking our ponies right now."
"Or they plan to cook us," Bofur added, offering no help.
"No one is going to be cooked," Escanor said firmly. "Gandalf, are you coming?"
"Someone must stay with Bilbo," Gandalf replied. "And I believe, Escanor, that you can handle three trolls without my help."
" Three trolls?" Óin looked alarmed. "Are you going to face three trolls alone?"
" Why not?" Escanor smiled, and there was something almost predatory in that smile. "They're just trolls."
"Trolls are dangerous creatures," Balin warned. "Strong, resilient, and though stupid, lethal in combat."
"Then it's good," said Escanor, starting to walk towards the footprints, "that I don't plan to give them the opportunity to fight."
The Company followed him, moving silently through the woods. Soon, they heard voices. Harsh, guttural voices, arguing in the kind of language that made even dwarves shudder.
They hid behind trees and bushes, watching the clearing where three massive trolls sat around a fire. The ponies were tied up nearby, whinnying nervously. And the trolls... the trolls were arguing about how to cook them.
"We could try to sneak away and free the ponies," Thorin whispered. "If we're quiet..."
—Or—Escanor interrupted— I could just handle this.
Before anyone could stop him, he walked straight into the clearing.
"Good evening, gentlemen," she said, her voice clear and calm. "I believe you have something that belongs to me."
The three trolls turned around, their small, stupid eyes blinking in surprise. Then, slowly, they began to smile, revealing rotten teeth.
" Look, Bert!" said one. "Dinner has come to us!"
"He's a big one," observed the second troll, Bert. "That's got a lot of meat on him!"
"Let's share it, then," the third troll said, rising and reaching for a huge club. "Don't be greedy, Tom!"
Escanor stood there, motionless, as the three trolls approached. The dwarves watched in horror from their hiding place, but before they could rush to help, Gandalf raised his staff.
—Wait— he whispered. —Watch.
The trolls loomed over Escanor now, their shadows falling upon him. The largest, Tom, raised his club, preparing to strike.
"Any last words, human," he growled.
"Only one," Escanor said, and his eyes began to glow with golden light. "Sun."
And then, the clearing exploded with light.
Not the soft light of the moon or the flickering flames of a fire. True light, pure, brilliant. The light of the midday sun, so intense that the dwarves had to cover their eyes.
The trolls shrieked, covering their faces, trying to flee. But it was too late.
Escanor's power, Sunshine in all its glory, flooded the clearing. And under its radiance, the three trolls began to turn to stone. Their screams became strangled, then silent, as their bodies hardened, solidified, turned gray and motionless.
In less than thirty seconds, where there had once been three live trolls, there were now only three grotesque statues, frozen in poses of terror.
The light faded. Escanor stood there in the center of the clearing, breathing lightly, his skin still glowing faintly.
"Like I said," he commented calmly. "Just trolls."
The dwarves slowly emerged from their hiding place, staring in amazement at the stone statues.
"By Durin's beard," whispered Dwalin. "That was..."
"Impossible," Glóin finished. "Simply impossible."
"Efficient, I'd say," Balin said, approaching one of the statues and tapping it with his knuckles. "Solid as a rock."
Literally.
Bilbo staggered forward, looking dizzy.
—Escanor, that was... was...
"Necessary," Escanor said simply. "The trolls would have killed someone if we'd given them the chance. It was simpler this way."
Gandalf approached, his eyes shining with something that could have been pride or concern.
—You didn't hold back at all.
"I didn't need to do it," Escanor replied. "Against trolls, such a demonstration of power was more than enough."
Thorin stood before Escanor, studying him with an inscrutable expression. Then, slowly, he nodded.
—Well done. We recovered our ponies without any losses. That's the result of a wise leader.
"I'm not a leader," Escanor said. "I only did what was necessary."
—That —said Thorin with a small smile— is exactly what a true leader would say.
While the dwarves freed the ponies and searched the trolls' cave (finding several useful weapons, including elven swords that Gandalf identified as ancient and valuable), Escanor stared at the statues he had created.
Three lives ended in seconds , he thought. Is this right? Or simply necessary?
"They are evil creatures," Gandalf said softly, appearing beside him. "They would have killed dozens more had they been allowed to live. Have no remorse."
"I feel no remorse," Escanor said. "Only... recognition. Of the weight of having such power. Of the responsibility that comes with it."
"That," said Gandalf, "is what makes you different from tyrants. Tyrants wield their power without considering the consequences. You consider every action, every life taken. That is wisdom, Escanor. Do not lose it."
"I'll try," Escanor promised.
That night, as the Company camped again, this time with their recovered ponies and several new treasures, the atmosphere was celebratory. The dwarves sang victory songs, shared exaggerated tales of the battle (though it had hardly been a battle at all), and toasted Escanor again and again.
Bilbo sat next to his friend, watching the festivities with a small smile.
—They're treating you like a hero.
—I did what anyone with my power would have done.
"No," Bilbo said firmly. "Anyone with your power could have become a tyrant long ago. They could be conquering kingdoms instead of protecting travelers. The fact that you choose to use your strength for good—that's what makes you special."
Escanor looked at his friend, this little hobbit who had found the courage to leave his comfortable home for a dangerous adventure.
—Thank you, Bilbo. That means a lot.
"Well, that's true," Bilbo said, taking a sip of his drink. "And hey, if we keep running into trolls, dragons, and who knows what else, I'm glad to have you on my side."
"Always," Escanor promised. "Until the end."
And as the stars shone above and the Company laughed around the fire, Escanor felt something settle in his chest. Purpose. Belonging. The feeling that, for the first time since he had come into this world, he was exactly where he was meant to be.
The road to Erebor was long and full of dangers.
But the Lion of the Sun was ready for each one of them.