The morning was slow to wake her, and eventually it took a few small taps at her door from Gandalf to usher her out of the bed. It was comfortable like nothing she's ever felt before, and in getting dressed in the hobbit clothing again, Elya made a note to herself to somehow manage to afford clothes that fit better.

"Ah there you are. I have procured this with Bilbo's permission," Gandalf found her outside in the hall, holding out a fairly small, but still packed, bag and bedroll. "I'm told he had it lying around from when he was a young fauntling, traipsing around the Shire with his mother."

"Oh," She held it, blinking at such generosity. "I must find a way to pay him back." She muttered, still half asleep.

"I believe you will have plenty time to do so on this coming journey!" Gandalf winked at her and left the hobbit hole, where she could hear the low talk of dwarves and noise of many horses, or ponies, in this case. Elya took a deep breath, putting the bag on her back. It took one step outside for her to realize that she was still barefoot, and since her little feet had none of the protections of a hobbit, Elya was in a crisis.

She asked Balin if he happened to have a strip of cloth or leather she could tinker around with for possible shoes. He said no, but a nearby Nori grunted and dug something out of his own pack. It was a long strip of cloth that looked suspiciously like Bilbo's front drapes.

A quick look told her that yes, one side of his kitchen window was bare while the other hung cloth exactly like that which was in her hands. Glancing back at Nori, who merely smirked at her, waiting for some sort of reaction, Elya weighed her options. Eventually she sighed, and silently apologized to Bilbo and whatever ancestor had given him the drapes, folding it to judge how well it will act wrapped around her feet. Nori snickered, and climbed aboard a pony.

"Here you are, Elya," Fili said to her, leading two ponies, "This one is yours." He handed her the reins to a lovely grey one, smiled, and mounted his own. She took careful notice of how he did so, and thus when she climbed aboard the grey pony, she only made a slight fool of herself, instead of a whole one.

"Never ridden?" the blonde dwarf asked cheerfully, far too cheerfully for the time of the morning she thought.

"Not that I remember," she replied faux-cheerfully, and his smiled turned into a bit of a grimace at the reminder that yes, she still had no memories.

The pony was docile though, and seemed aware that her rider had few intentions of actually commanding her to do things. So, the grey mare just stuck by her siblings, the ponies Fili and Dwalin rode, largely ignoring the light weight atop her back.

They left in a long line of pony and dwarf, with Gandalf and Thorin in the lead. Upon finding her pony absolutely capable of following on her own, Elya turned her attention to the cloth, and with a little help from Fili's knife, managed to fold them around her feet so that at least they were wrapped. It wouldn't hold for long, she thought, but it would last until she could manage to get proper shoes of her own.

"Not a chance, he's far too attached to that lovely hole of his." Dori was saying to Ori, and eventually the other dwarves started calling out wagers.

"I think it'll be a day until he catches up!" Bofur called.

Gandalf chuckled, "Not even until mid-morning, Master Bofur."

"The halfling won't come, the perils of the road are too much for one such as him." Thorin said, loud enough to be heard though he rode at the front.

"Five pieces says you're wrong!"

"Five that he's right!"

And it continued until Elya clued in that this was a good time to gain some money.

"How about just before lunch, and an extra piece if he'll immediately want to go back for something he forgot." She called out, remembering the look on the hobbit's face the night before.

"Aye!"

Kili and Fili gave her matching grins, somehow managing to ride on either side of her.

"Do you know if you can use any kind of weapon?" Fili asked companionably, currently flipping a small knife around his fingers.

"Fee prefers knives and twin swords. I'm best with a bow but not too shabby with a sword myself." Kili chimed in, puffing up a bit to make her smile.

Elya shook her head, "I have no knowledge of it, but maybe it's instinctual."

Fili offered her his knife with a "see what happens?" sort of look.

With a little trepidation, Elya took it, one part of her concentrating on staying on the pony and the other a little worried that she'd make a fool of herself and cut off a finger or something. The knife was small, yet still too thick for her fingers to hold it comfortably. It had a wide blade, just as most things about dwarves were wide, and weighed a decent amount.

"No, no, no," Kili interjected, "don't hold it like that, hold it like this." And he demonstrated with his own knife, that she never noticed him grabbing. He changed the way her fingers held the hilt, and showed her how to hold it in a ready position. It felt even more uncomfortable.

Fili snorted at her.

"Oh shush," Elya felt like she may be blushing, but ignored it to throw them both a dirty look, "It's clear I don't know what I'm doing."

They passed a few hours like that, and just as someone began complaining for lunch, there came a piping voice from behind them, "Wait! Wait!"

It was Bilbo. Balin checked his signature and found it solid. Thorin was too royal to roll his eyes but it was there in the tone of his voice when he ordered the hobbit be given a pony.

With matching grins, Bofur and Bifur yanked him up bodily to be up on a pony, and the poor hobbit seemed utterly stunned.

And then, the wagers went flying. Elya ducked and laughed at them all, thanking Bofur when he simply handed her her own money pouch. Gleeful, Elya shook it at Bilbo with a beaming smile, listening to the coin jingle within.

Bilbo, a little embarrassed but also slightly pleased by half the company's belief in him, quickly found he was allergic to pony hair.

"Wait, wait! We have to stop!" he called out in a fluster, "We have to go back! I forgot my handkerchief!"

There was a chorus of groans punctured by Elya's triumphant laugh. Every dwarf surrendered another coin, and it made its way back down to Elya, who dropped them all into the same pouch she had been given. Giving Kili a playful smirk, Elya slipped the purse into her shirt, keeping it safer than if it were in a bag easily lost. She looked to Bilbo, missing Kili's pink cheeks and Fili's snicker, and apologized.

"Sorry, Master Baggins, I knew you would forget something. But, now I have money for shoes!" she beamed, finding the day to be a rather good one.

"Ah yes, I suppose that's…" Bilbo trailed off, eyes locked on her feet, "Are those my kitchen drapes?" He didn't sound angry, more confused to find great aunt Bertha's handmade cloth wrapped around dainty white feet.

Nori, ahead of them but obviously listening in, roared with laughter.

Flushing, Elya cleared her throat. "I don't know, are they?" Nearly immediately she started a conversation with Kili to get out of explaining to the hobbit that yes, she wore his drapes and no, she actually didn't steal them herself.

And so it went. Elya soon learned that she had little muscle at all, and all muscle that she had was sore from days on a pony's back. Sleeping was hard too, on the ground with only a layer of cloth between her and whatever lived in the dirt. The brothers Durin only laughed when she whined about not knowing what was crawling all over her during the night.

She made a point to avoid both Thorin and Dwalin, only to obediently do what they asked of her, and doing whatever else she could do to help make or break camp. She could only really bring in kindling, she couldn't move as much wood as the other dwarves, she was a fair cook's helper and did the dishes. She was never chosen for watch duty, and while she wanted to argue that she could do anything they could, reality set in and she acquiesced. Not only would Thorin not want a mystery lost girl watching over their vulnerable sleeping bodies, Elya didn't think she could stay awake for so long at night.

Usually she slept nearby Kili and Fili, who were quickly becoming her closest friends on this venture. She also stayed by Bilbo as well, feeling a sort of kinship to the hobbit who felt just as out of place as she did. She listened to him without complaint, and learned along with him what made these dwarves tick. They were largely either ignored or tolerated by the other dwarves, Oin and Gloin possibly didn't even know their names.

"I cannot understand her." Thorin muttered to Dwalin, both of them watching the strange girl play with the princes and the halfling from the corner of their eyes. 'Play' meaning Bilbo was attempting to retrieve something of his that Fili and Kili were tossing between them in increasingly more difficult ways.

Elya had been giggling in the sidelines before she snuck up behind Kili and snatched the object, what looked like a button, from him and ran off with it calling for Bilbo.

And hence, the mish mashed game of tag that was going on around their camp tonight. Thorin wanted to snarl at them to keep it down, but from the looks of the rest of the company, indulgent and amused, it wasn't much of a bother to them. Thorin just tensed at any new roaring laugh or girlish shriek that could potentially echo into the darkness and alert whatever evil stirred in these lands.

"Aye. She's little more than an extra saddlebag. Keeps the prince's occupied though." Dwalin said.

"I thought I had taught them to be more discerning." Thorin grumbled, crossing his arms and wishing for his pipe.

Dwalin shrugged, "I don't doubt they found her alone and lost. I wonder whether she knows if she's a plant or not."

"Do you think she is?"

Dwalin considered her, but eventually shrugged. "No. But it doesn't hurt to keep an eye on her."

Humming, Thorin returned to the fireside, content to ignore their female addition. He didn't like the way the wizard was twinkling at him, though.

It was one night that they camped near a small creek, small, but enough clean water for a wash. Elya nearly squealed with joy upon seeing it, and as soon as she could, she went and stripped off as many layers as she could before cleaning whatever skin she could reach. She stunk after so many days on the road, and the cool water was a great relief.

What she didn't notice, was the few dry mouths behind her, the wiggling eyebrows, and the elbows in guts. Kili in particular nearly fell on his face with the force of his brother's sudden elbow, and they descended into sort of wrestling match. One who did notice, and who didn't like it, was Thorin himself.

Grinning at Bofur, who tipped his hat to her in the process of getting water for the stew, Elya gathered her things and went to return to her bed roll. She was ambushed first, on the outskirts of the new firelight.

A dour shape in the twilight, Thorin sobered her mood like he always did, just with a small frown.

Thorin grimaced at her, "I will not have you distracting the men."

She blinked. "Distracting how?"

"With your femininity. Travelling can become tiring and having a female of your kind so near may play with their sense of duty."

'Of your kind.' Elya's eyebrows felt like they were going to disappear into her hair. "So it would be my fault? What could I possibly do?" She felt a little shocked at his ire, suddenly realizing that her gender had been on his mind for a while now. Or perhaps, on all their minds. Mostly there was a small knot of resentment in her stomach, was this all from her washing in the stream? There hadn't been any overtures from the rest of the company, and indeed, she never felt ogled at.

Thorin stomped closer, glowering down at her. "Do not give them reason." He went to brush past her, but she stopped him in his tracks with a small, weak whisper.

"Would you say the same thing to your mother?" She looked at him from the side, angry enough she didn't want to face him lest she either yell at him, or worse, burst out crying. "Or your sister?"

Thorin turned to look at her, perhaps to put her in her place again, but she left him standing there, taking the last word with her. Her hands shook.

Kili was the one to notice her bad mood, frowning and touching her arm lightly with the tips of his rough fingers. "You alright?" he asked, sweet as always under his brashness.

Elya's mouth worked, and she took a deep breath to figure out what kind of emotions were going to splash out first. Instead she settled on exhaustion, arms and legs tired from their ride, and nodded, slumping into an unladylike ball. Her pout was evident, as well as the shininess of her eyes.

Kili cleared his throat, uncomfortable and yet earnest in his worry, "What happened? Uncle can be rude sometimes, try not to take it seriously."

Elya shook her head, sighing. "It's fine. I suppose I should have anticipated it. I am a woman after all, I should have known I'd be a distraction."

Behind her, Fili coughed, "You mean he...?" Grimacing, Elya nodded. He seemed to understand, giving her a look of mixed meanings.

Confused, Kili looked between her and his brother, "What? What does she being a woman have to do with it?"

"Oh sweet brother, so innocent." Fili rubbed his fist into Kili's hair roughly, dodging his retaliation with that special grace all big brothers seemed to have.

"We'll be passing close by Bree tomorrow, lassie," Balin interjected before a wrestling match could break out, "We can go in and get you what you're going to need." He cast a look at the nearly ruined cloth that wrapped her feet and she thanked him gratefully.

"We'll go with you!" Kili volunteered, but was quickly shut down.

"No, you will not." Thorin spoke from behind them all, walking as he did around the camp every night. He glowered at them, his nephews and then again, harder, at Elya. "Balin and the girl will go in alone, and the rest of us will pass by the town entirely. Bree is no place to stop on a good day."

"I'd like to go," Bilbo said nervously, "I can help carry supplies." Thorin looked at him, up and down, and then nodded as though passing his judgement. He left them then, wrapping himself down for the night to eat and keep watch.

Elya grumbled under her breath, "Oh sometimes I'd just like to snatch his eyebrows right off."

Fili raised his own eyebrows at her, "Really?" he asked, a little doubtfully, as if he couldn't quite imagine the quiet and thin-limbed girl doing such. Elya glared at him, but then surrendered.

"Well, I'd think about it long and hard and stare at him so he'd somehow feel it." She thanked Bifur for handing her her stew for the night. "He just makes me angry, and frustrates me with his lack of of...anything. Respect. Or kindness."

"Well he is a king," Kili said between spoonfuls, "Suppose they're all like that?"

Elya sighed, giving up. "Yes, most likely. I am grateful he hasn't just dumped my body somewhere, I suppose."

Fili coughed on his soup, "He wouldn't do that!" There was a piece of potato in his moustache.

Lips pressed together as tightly as she could to avoid laughing, Elya tried to not stare at it. It waggled with Fili's every move. Elya made the mistake of catching eyes with Kili, and like a trigger it sent both of them into gales of laughter.

"What?" Fili asked, the potato moving with his words. "What?!" The night rang with their cheer.

Bree was less than spectacular. Although there were now men and women of 'her own kind' around her, Elya stuck close to Balin and Bilbo. These humans were just so tall, so big and dark and scary, that Balin's white beard and Bilbo's soft curls seemed so much more comforting.

With about half of her money, Elya got herself new boots, a pair of solid warm breeches to go under her skirts, a fairly warm, though old, jacket that went on over her dress, and a cloak of thick wool that weighed nearly as much as her whole travel bag. Bilbo, who had never seen Bree before, wrinkled his nose at the smell and eagerly waited for them to be out of there again, laden down with what supplies they needed. Elya did get several strange looks, as a dwarf sized woman, nearly childlike and in the company of a dwarf and a hobbit, but she did her best to ignore them.

All three breathed a sigh of relief when they managed to leave Bree behind, catching up to the rest of the company. Elya shared a look with Bilbo, and they silently agreed the rude, rough, and honorable dwarves were better than whatever kind of Men lived in such a town.

A few nights later, Elya laid peacefully by the fire and listened to Kili and Fili's low voices on watch. Too over-tired to sleep, Elya listened when Bilbo got up, stretched, and sneakily fed Myrtle an apple he'd smuggled away. She had to smile at the hobbit's sweetness.

A cry pierced the air, from a long distance away, and her eyes opened to see Bilbo mouth "What was that?!" to the brothers on guard.

Kili's response was solemn. "Orcs."

"Orcs?!" Bilbo squeaked a little louder than he probably should have, waking some of the company.

"Aye." Fili pitched in darkly, "Throat-cutters. They attack small camps at night and leave no one alive."

Bilbo swallowed and looked a bit ill. Elya wasn't feeling much better. Suddenly the dark seemed so much more threatening.

And then Kili snickered, Fili grinned, and Bilbo relaxed in an instant with a glower. Pushing herself up onto an elbow, Elya turned and threw her own glare at the two of them. She was about to call them out on their meanness when Thorin beat her to it.

"You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?" He asked, voice full with disappointment and simmering anger.

"We didn't mean anything by it." And Elya knew they hadn't, but poor taste was poor taste.

"No, you didn't." Thorin walked through them all, a tall figure in the moonlight. "You know nothing of the world." The tossed words hit where they were meant to, and both Kili and Fili turned their shameful faces down.

Elya reached an arm out and patted the closest brother's boot, Kili's, and sadly smiled at him in forgiveness. They did deserve it, but it was probably a special kind of cruelty that Thorin was the one saying it.

"Don't mind him laddie," Balin stood by the back of the rock facing, "Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs."

And then came a story of such heartbreak and hurt that Elya felt bad for ever thinking Thorin selfish or rude. She supposed if she had the same background, she might act that way too. Not only to lose his home, Erebor, but to lose his grandfather in battle, his father gone missing, and a chance at a new home in Moria? She couldn't imagine it, and she thought maybe all of them had lost someone there too.

The dwarves were standing again, the same reverence and respect in their backs as there was in Bilbo's home during the Misty Mountains song.

"And that day, I saw one I could call king." Balin finished with the same emotional awe in his voice as she could see in the rest of the dwarves. Thorin too, struck a majestic figure as he turned and looked back at his company with his head held high.

Now, maybe Elya could understand a bit more their mission and their drive than she had before.

"But, Azog?" Bilbo asked, "What happened to him?"

"That filth died of his wounds long ago." Thorin commanded them all to return to sleep, and Elya laid back down again, closer this time to the fire and to her friends. She saw, without really understanding, Balin and Gandalf share a look, and her last thought before sleep claimed her was a desperate hope that yes, the pale orc who sounded so terrifying, was actually dead.

When darkness and twilight had fallen, Elya would sit with Bifur learning to whittle. He would demonstrate a movement for her on his own piece of wood, and then hand them over to her to see how she would copy him. At times he would grunt and point a thick finger where she had messed up, or pat her knee and point where she had done well.

Elya, though finding the one sided conversation a little strange, found that Bifur could respond quite well without words or dwarven gestures if she was paying enough attention.

From across the fire, Bofur and Bombur traded great smiles, softened upon seeing the small beardless girl-child, who knew practically nothing at all of use, laugh and smile companionably with a dwarf many fled from. And indeed, since the injury Bifur wasn't only just able to speak in chopped up sentences of Ancient Khuzdul, he was also more often absentminded, sometimes terribly blank in memory and behavior, and it was when he worked with his hands that most of his personality came back.

So, with her dedication to learn something new, wood carving from Bifur helped both her and him. She became more familiar with her hands and with them all as dwarves, and Bifur became more animated, more healed while they worked.

Elya sat with Bifur another night and was working up the courage to ask him. He had put a new block into her hands, traced the circle of a head on it with a stick of charcoal and proceeded to do the same on his block, carefully showing her the angle and turns her hands should be making.

She felt she had gotten better at using the tools, though the wood still didn't look like much more than a hacked off piece of tinder.

"Bifur." She started, hands pausing. She looked at him, at the softness of his eyes, and wondered why she had ever thought the axe was his most prominent feature.

He stopped, waiting, though his gaze never quite made it to hers.

"Does it...does it pain you?" She asked quietly, "Does it hurt?" Her glance made it clear what she was talking about, and he was still for a moment.

Then he warbled his hand in the air in front of himself, as if saying yes and no.

"Off and on?" She guessed. Bifur tilted his head, not quite nodding. She thought the axe was a heavy weight on the front of his head, and nodding probably made it pull or shift uncomfortably.

She frowned. "There's nothing to do? No herbs, or pastes, or, or...something that can help?"

Bifur shuttered his eyes, and shook his head. The wild mane of his hair brushed her shoulder, and she likened it to the feeling of wire.

"I'm sorry." Elya offered, turning the wood in her hands. "For it happening, and for bringing it up." She quirked her lips at him in apology, and he patted her knee. His form of forgiveness. They went back to carving, or in her case, hacking. Unbeknownst to her, Bofur and Bombur were paying close attention.

They exchanged glances, bemused and softened by the small creature that spoke with such earnest sincerity. Even if she was some sort of ploy, or plot, they didn't think it was of her own making. Nobody could appear with no memories, and no preconceived ideals like she did and still maintain their acting through days and nights of travel. She was just too genuine.

The next morning, Bofur patted the seat next to him and invited her to sit and eat breakfast. She did, though Bofur did notice the warning gazes from Dwalin and Kili, the young prince's look of 'don't you hurt her' contrasting greatly to the old warrior's 'don't you trust her'. Bofur merely smiled at them both, utterly guileless, and inwardly snickered at how alike Kili was to his uncle, and how utterly unlike him he was as well.

Elya was helping Bombur dig out his root vegetables when Gandalf stormed out of the ramshackle remains of the farmhouse, face a dark thundercloud.

"Where are you going?" Bilbo called, unnerved.

"To surround myself with the only one with wisdom in this whole plain!" Gandalf ground out, climbing aboard his horse.

"Who's that?"

"Myself, Master Baggins!" Gandalf snapped, "I've had enough of dwarves for one evening." and he left, without a backwards glance.

"Bombur get cooking," Thorin ordered with a similar black look to where the wizard went, "We want to eat sometime tonight!" Elya blinked wide eyed at Bombur, who only shrugged and hung the pot over the fire.

The ambiance of the moment was ruined when Fili came stumbling back crying out, "Trolls! Trolls have Mister Bilbo!"

The dwarves jumped up in an instant, and it was only Thorin's great booming voice that had them all mobilized.

"You stay here, lass, keep an eye on the camp." Balin told her, pulling out his sword and following after the other dwarves without another word.

Left alone then, in the dark with an empty camp, Elya tried to wrap her mind around the rush of the last few minutes. It was like one instant everything was okay, and then the next, everything seemed so dire and warlike, and then now, everything was quiet.

She didn't know what to do.

Elya paced first, from one side of camp to another. Then she looked out into the trees to see if she could see or hear anything. She thought she heard great bellows or the ring of steel before, but not now. She looked the other way, searching desperately for Gandalf.

After an indeterminable amount of time, Elya drew up her courage and stepped into the forest, following the neighing sound of ponies to the very end of where they were left, and then seeing, in the trees, a light.

Firelight.

Swallowing, Elya gathered up her skirts in her arms so she walked without trouble, taking each step as slowly as she could to not make noise.

"Here we are, roasted dwarf, my favorite!" one large great voice said, and it made Elya freeze.

Roasted dwarf?!

She inched closer, just a few trees back from the circle of light and she could see her companions being trussed up like pigs onto a stick, ready to set onto the fire. Three trolls, large, ungainly looking beasts, and one was shoving dwarves into sacks, another tended the fire, and a third was forcing Dwalin into position for spit-roasting.

Oh no.

Oh no, what was Elya going to do?!

Taking a slow, deep breath, Elya retreated and breathed a moment against a tree. She could hear the trolls laughing, the dwarves swearing, and poor Bilbo whimpering.

Elya edged her way around the circle so she was nearest the dwarves being left in sacks, and when the troll turned to go take a seat and wait for the roasting dwarves, oh that was Bofur and Bifur, and Nori, oh dear, to be finished cooking.

Thankfully, Thorin was closest, so when she slipped her way behind the rock where he leaned, Elya could just poke him from behind and whisper.

"Thorin." She barely breathed it, and it wasn't enough to be heard.

"Thorin!" Louder this time, but hopefully drowned beneath troll voices. He seemed to turn to stone, head turning just slightly to let her knew he could hear her.

"What do I do?!" She asked, at a loss.

"Cut me loose." Was his first thought, and Elya bit her lip nearly hard enough to bleed. The sacks were thick burlap, and tied so tightly her fingers couldn't hope to undo them.

"With what?" she snarled, unhappy with the situation and unhappy with him. "You wouldn't let me have a weapon, remember?!" And he hadn't, when Fili had offered her a knife to keep, Thorin jumped down his throat and then down hers for even thinking such a thing.

Thorin was glowering, she just knew it. "Then get one."

When Elya located the pile of weapons the trolls had relieved the dwarves off, she hissed between her teeth to see it right in the middle of the clearing, there was no way she would be able to grab that and remain unseen.

"You-" Elya was about to say something rather rude, but then found a troll turning his head in her direction.

"Be quiet you! You'll all get your turns." That one had a piggish look of intelligence in his eye, and he saw how Thorin tried to straighten himself and hide Elya from view. "What you got there then, huh? Another dwarf?" the troll, despite Thorin's attempts, went and craned around to the other side of the rock, where Elya had just stood.

In the trees, Elya tried to calm her frantic heart rate. She barely dared to breathe, so close to the light and to the troll.

She moved a bit, maybe to get a different angle on where the weapons were. Bilbo then struggled to his feet, crying out loudly about sage of all things.

"Well, have you smelled them?" He asked companionably, seemingly fearless and as helpful as ever. Elya felt the hysterical urge to snicker, but nearly screamed when a large gnarled hand appeared out of the darkness to grab her shoulder.

Gandalf.

"Keep them busy." He murmured so low she had to see his lips move to know he hadn't just spoken directly into her mind.

She nodded, swallowing, and listening to Bilbo frantically try to find another way to distract the trolls from dwarf meat. Gandalf melted back into the darkness with less noise than he appeared, and Elya was distinctly reminded that he was a wizard.

"-skin them first!"

Oh good job Bilbo, way to endear yourself to the dwarves. As expected, the dwarves made a ruckus, and one troll groaned loudly, saying he'd had raw dwarf before anyways. He grabbed poor Bombur, the fattest, and hung him over his tongue. Panicking like Bilbo, Elya dropped and grabbed a stone, hardly thinking about it before letting it sail out of her hand to hit the troll's hand. It was a nice shot and Bombur fell, thankfully on his belly so it wasn't a hard landing.

"Ouch! Now who threw that?!" the troll glowered, looking out over the dwarves and into the trees where Elya had already fled from. She went about the other side, stooping to grab another rock. Blood pumped in her ears.

Another of her rocks went into a trollish eye, causing him to fall on his back and whine with it. The other trolls didn't seem to care about his pain, kicking him and telling him to be quiet.

"Worms in their….tubes! Infested with parasites!" Bilbo came up with, "I wouldn't trust it, I really wouldn't." The dwarves really didn't like that one, but one kick from Thorin and they changed their tune. Elya bit back a smile, completely inappropriate for such a dire situation, when she heard Kili hollering he had the "biggest parasites!"

"So what would you want us to do? Let 'em all go?" the fattest one sneered.

Elya threw another rock when he seemed about to poke Bilbo, fearing one too harsh move and Bilbo could be squashed. That troll yelped too, shaking his great fat hand and frowning. Bilbo quickly shuffled backwards out of the troll's range.

"This ferret is taking us for fools!" one troll shouted, "And there's another 'un in the trees!"

"Ferret?!" Bilbo asked, indignant.

Oh Gandalf, Elya thought desperately, any time now.

"The dawn will take you all!" came his great booming voice, almost as if in answer.

"Who's that then?"

"No idea."

"Can we eat him too?"

And with a great crack, Gandalf split the boulder he stood on, letting the dawn like in and making the trolls turn to stone as they stood there. Relieved beyond reason, Elya ran forward into the clearing and threw her arms around Bilbo, who still stood in his sack.

"You were brilliant!" She cried, clutching him close. He laughed a bit self-deprecatingly, tugging at his sack so she would help him out of it. Elya laughed once more, landed a kiss on his cheek and helped free him from the awful smelling sack. She grabbed someone's large knife from the pile and crossed to the wriggling pile of dwarves to help them out.

"The biggest parasites, huh?" She muttered to Kili, eyebrows raised. He had the grace to smile sheepishly, and she looked away when he stood, only wearing his breeches and tunic. It was odd seeing the dwarves so naked, without their leathers and weapons.

Gandalf was giving the others a hand putting out the fire and pulling the spit off, dwarves and all. Elya gave Thorin a bright grin when she got to his sack, uncaring that normally she'd be quelled by his dark expression. She was beginning to think that was just his normal face.

"Well that was exciting." Fili commented, brushing himself off. He had a bit of dirt smudge on his face, and she thought maybe he was at the bottom of the pile.

"Never knew trolls were this far inland." Bofur said, helping his cousin with his pants.

"They must have come down from the ettenmoors." Gandalf said, knocking his staff against the stone of one. Curious, Elya went closer and stood looking up into one's face. It hardly looked real now, just a stone statue.

"No thanks to your burglar," Thorin grumbled, probably just unhappy that he had been shoved into a bag.

"He had the nous to stall for time," Gandalf raised his eyebrows. "None of the rest of you did."

Thorin grudgingly accepted that, looking to Elya where she unabashedly listened in.

"We'll have to find you a suitable weapon." Thorin nearly sighed, giving in. "Should something like that happen again I'd like you to have something more than rocks at your disposal."

Elya beamed, hands on her hips. "Perfect." Although she didn't do very much at all, maybe this would begin to tell Thorin that she wanted to help, even if she had little ability to actually help.

"There should be a troll hoard nearby, shall we go look?"

Gloin's prediction came true, they smelled it far before they saw it. Elya drew up her face to try and breathe around it, and rather waited outside with Bilbo. She could hear from within the noise of surprised, happy dwarves so she supposed there as some treasure to be had.

The hobbit sighed deeply, and gave a weak smile when she asked what was wrong. "Never thought I'd be here, I guess. Fighting trolls."

Elya hummed in agreement. She wrapped her arms around her waist and tried to hide her massive yawn. Gandalf took Bilbo a bit away, and handed him what looked like a small sword. Elya yawned again, unhappy that none of them managed to get any nights rest, and blinked when she found the morning sun blocked from her by a large shadow.

She looked up, and up. Dwalin stood before her with a strange look on his face. Sort of like he was deciding whether to be sour or just uncaring. He handed her a short blade, shorter even than Bilbo's, a dagger that looked more man-made than dwarvish or elven.

"I will teach you how to use it." he said gruffly, taking up his axes again and walking away without another word. She could only blink after him, holding the dagger awkwardly. Where would she put it?

Bofur came to her rescue, fashioning a belt out of what looked like the old remains of a saddle. It held the knife wrapped, and hung from her waist. She would have to be careful she never sat on it, or accidentally stabbed anyone, but it would work.

"Thank you." she told him, taking hold of one of his rough hands. He swung their clasped hands between them, patting it with his other one, before Dwalin called out "Something's coming!"

The dwarves armed themselves, standing ready, and Elya stood as closed as she dared to Bofur, ears picking up noise but unable to pinpoint where it came from.

"Thieves! Fire! Murder!" a large sled burst out of the trees, led by some twelve large, large rabbits. An older man drove it, wearing a worn brown robe and a large hat, with what looked like bird excrement caked onto the side of his face. Elya didn't know what to do, until Gandalf sighed.

"Radagast the Brown." He greeted his fellow wizard, and started to speak together as if this was a regular thing, running into each other in the middle of a forest.

"Doesn't seem very...wizardly, does he?" Bilbo said, coming up to her side. Elya shrugged, blanching when Gandalf pulled a stick bug from Radagast's mouth. Did he not feel it there? Do bugs normally camp inside his mouth?!

Trying to distract herself from the alarming wizard, Elya looked at the hobbit beside her, tapping her fingers on the hilt of his new, beautifully made elven sword. "It fits you."

Bilbo looked down at it, something like chagrin on his face. "Not much of a proper hobbit now am I?"

Elya put an arm around him, feeling much more companionable now that they had survived three trolls together. He was the perfect height for cuddling too, a few hands shorter than her. "I think you're much better for it. Me too, I think. Far more dwarvish." She winked, and Bilbo couldn't help rolling his eyes. They shared a giggle about the roughness of dwarves, but it dried up immediately when a howl echoed through the trees.

Everyone stopped.

"Was that a wolf? Are there wolves here?" Bilbo audibly swallowed.

"Wolf?" Bofur said, eyes wide, "No, that is not a wolf." His tone had all the makings of a bad omen.

Not two seconds later, a growl, a rush, and a scream later and Thorin had ended the life of a great beast nearly the size of the ponies. It looked vaguely dog-like, but it stunk something awful and had a great maw of teeth Elya couldn't help but fixate on.

Another growl, and Kili had shot off an arrow so fast, Elya turned and only saw another dead beast coming to a rest.

"Warg scouts!" Thorin snarled. Elya gripped the hilt of her new dagger, surprised by the slight relief it brought her.

"An Orc pack is never far behind." Dwalin growled, axes in both his hands.

"Orc pack?" Elya parroted, paling. Gandalf rushed to Thorin.

"Who did you tell of this quest, beyond your kin?" He demanded, "Who did you tell?!"

"No one, I swear!" Thorin looked as fearful as he ever had, and Elya felt a cold rush of terror in the face of it. If Thorin was frightened, what did that mean for them all? "Why?"

"You are being hunted." Gandalf's words were chilling.

Gulping, Elya looked first at Bilbo, and then up to Kili and Fili, who had appeared behind the hobbit, wearing matching worried looks. Hunted, like animals.

"The ponies are gone! They ran off!" Ori came running back out of the trees, terror inscribed upon his face.

The dwarves clustered, milling in a peculiar mix of rage and fear.

"Go, Gandalf, I will lead them off." Radagast said.

"These are Gundabad wargs, they will outrun you." Gandalf returned bitterly. Radagast was having none of that, and one of his rabbits stomped its feet into the ground, hard.

"These are Rhosgobel Rabbits." Radagast smirked, suddenly looking like the wily wizard he was, "I'd like to see them try."

Gandalf said nothing, only nodding in acquiesce.

"Come, quickly, stay together." Thorin ordered, and the company went the opposite direction of Radagast and his sled. There was a whoop behind them, and they burst through the trees in time to see Radagast gain the attention of an orc pack large enough to put one warg to every dwarf, if not more.

Elya was terrified. Her heart beat harder than it had with the trolls, and she clung to Kili's arm, suddenly realizing that she held it tightly.

The dwarves ran, Elya and Bilbo kept in the middle, and Elya despaired of the Great Plains and rolling hills that provided little to no cover other than patches of boulder. They would be caught for sure.

Now and then, they had to stop and wait behind an outcrop for Radagast to whirl passed, the orcs close on his tail. Elya stopped looking around for their pursuers when she tripped, nearly taking Kili down with her. He gripped her tightly, nearly painfully, and she saw in his face the same fear that had taken over her being. She stayed alert then, eyes fixed to Gandalf's back, and focused on breathing, tasting blood from a raw throat.

They had to stop, pausing, and Ori was pulled back with a bit off shout from Thorin. Kili had her bent awkwardly, pressed tight to the rock though she didn't complain, everything seemed too perilous, and any discomfort was pushed by the wayside. A scraping above their heads caused them all to flinch under the rock, danger only yards away. A warg scout, right on the boulder they hid behind.

Thorin locked eyes with Kili, and Elya forced herself to let go of the young dwarf, clutching the rock. Kili took out an arrow, breathed for a moment, then in one smooth motion stepped out, aimed, and fired. The arrow took out the warg's eye, but even as it tumbled down, the orc and the warg gave out lasting shrieks. Dwalin's axe silenced it, but the sudden lack of noise made it clear they were found.

Horns and shouts came from behind them, ugly voices in ugly words.

"Run, run!" Gandalf cried, and they broke cover, sprinting as best they could over the plain. Elya gathered up her skirts, holding them high above her knees. This was no time for modesty.

She didn't think they would make it, because they got as far as one rock, where Gandalf seemed to disappear, and Thorin's company shouted and cried out. Elya stopped, frozen, in the center of their ragged circle. The wargs approached with monstrous snarls, the orcs on their backs grinning at the sight of their fear.

"Du Bekar!" Thorin shouted, and the dwarves gave out battle cries. Kili was sending one arrow after another, picking off wargs and orcs alike, but Elya knew there were too many. She seized her dagger, holding it in both hands and swearing to herself that she would take at least one of them with her. She didn't want to die.

"This way you fools!" Gandalf bellowed, in what she would call an exasperated voice in any other situation.

"Quickly!" Thorin stood at the rock, waving them on, and Elya thought of nothing other than getting there.

It was a hole in the ground, disguised by the rock cropping, and she slid right down it without thought. Rocks bumped and dug into her shins, knocking her knees around and bruising her. She hit the bottom hard, stunned, it took Bifur yanking her up and out of the way for the rest of them to not crush her as they tumbled down after.

"Kili!" Thorin shouted from above, and Elya's head shot up to watch. It took too long, her heart in her throat, for first Thorin and then Kili to come tumbling down. Fili had Kili up and in his arms in an instant, and Elya launched herself at them, fear and relief thrumming under her skin.

There was the sound of a different horn, loud and clear, and then the cries of dying beasts and orcs. Horses hooves pounded the ground, and Elya nearly bit her tongue when a large, dark shape came falling into their hole. Kili and Fili tugged her up and out of the way, pressing her behind and between them so tightly her feet no longer touched the ground.

The orc was dead, but Elya couldn't stop looking at its ugly, frightening face.

"Elves." Thorin swore, having yanked the arrow out of its throat and looked at its make.

"I can't see where the path leads, do we follow it?" Dwalin yelled from down the chasm. Fili breathed harshly on Elya's ear and she could feel Kili's hands shaking where they had seized her waist.

"We follow it of course," Bofur answered without even waiting for Thorin. The dwarves unanimously agreed, and Elya was set down and tugged along, Fili in front and Kili behind.

It was like she hadn't even had time to breathe. Her breath came harshly, and she saw spots in front of her eyes, but it was mainly Fili and Kili's strong hold that kept her on her feet. Idly, she wondered where her dagger was, and blinked to find it sheathed in front of her on Fili's back. How had that gotten there?

The chasm forced them all to slow down, and after the second time Elya grunted in pain after her elbow knocked into a protruding rock, the brothers let go of her hands so she could put both on Fili's shoulders, tucked in and away from harm. Kili followed closely behind, and now and again she would look back to make sure he, and the rest, were following behind.

Eventually, the path let out into a wider one, and only minutes after they followed it, they stopped to gape at the hidden valley.

Rivendell. Imladris. The Last Homely House.

In Elya's opinion, there was nothing homely about it...it was beautiful. Even as Thorin growled and grimaced, and the other dwarves grunted, distrusting, she and Bilbo stopped to stare in awe.

Catching her breath for a few words, Elya whispered, "It's gorgeous."

Bilbo nodded, and they rushed to follow the dwarves grudgingly climbing down the ridge side.

Elya didn't have enough eyes to see everything she wanted to. As they drew closer, crossing the bridge, she first leaned out over the side to look down and the clear crystal water flowing beneath. After Kili pulled her back away from the edge, rolling his eyes at her bright grin, Elya craned her neck up to look at the perfectly sculpted statues guarding the door.

They were met by a pretty male dwarf with dark hair. Lindir, as Gandalf called him.

"Mithrandir!" he said, and he spoke in elvish with Gandalf. The dwarves seemed wholly unhappy with this, even more so when they were told that the Lord of the house, Lord Elrond, was not at home.

Then, the approaching noise of horses, and they turned to find a contingent of elves marching down at them from atop their beautiful, gleaming steeds. Bilbo and Elya were pulled into dwarven ranks immediately, as the company tightened in response to the large beings circling them on the platform.

Elya got a mouthful of Kili's hair, from where he had stationed himself in front of her. She spat it out and gave his amused glance a sniff.

"You taste horrible." she muttered unpleasantly.

"I taste lovely, thank you." Kili muttered back, before they were both hushed by a dark look from Thorin.

"Welcome, guests." Elrond was saying. Having dismounted, he stood tall over them and roved his eyes across the dwarven circle with what Elya thought was a mix of resignation and amusement, though not suspicion.

"Thorin, son of Thrain, I knew your grandfather when you still dwelt beneath the Mountain." Elrond nodded to him. And Thorin replied with something rude, and Elya caught Gandalf's pained sigh. She wanted to laugh, or to smack Thorin's head, but she did neither, still engrossed with watching the elves around them file away, leading their horses. Everything here was beauty and grace personified, even the elves dressed for battle.

Elrond said something in Elvish, though she noted it was with warmth and gravity. Gloin took exception.

"Does he offer us insult?!"

"No, Master Gloin, he's offering you food." Gandalf said, exasperated.

The dwarves pulled in to deliberate, and Elya caught snatches of, "That sounds nice," "I'm starving," and "we'll give them a chance." She caught Bilbo's eye, and rolled hers, succeeding in drawing a snicker from him.

"Right," Gloin nodded, with what he probably thought was graciousness, "lead on then."