The rain that poured down was utterly miserable and chilled Frodo to the bone. Still better than Mordor, though, he had to admit. A vast difference, as he remembered being thankful to find that spring flowing with water in comparison to the treacherous wasteland beyond.
How he would have wished for weather like this.
"Would you be so inclined to end this deluge, Master Gandalf?" He heard Dori shout ahead of him. To him, it sounded like a good idea. He was sure the rest of the Company was just as thoroughly soaked as he was and agreed the rain should stop...
"I'm afraid I will not change the weather, Master Dori. It will rain until it is done raining." Gandalf replied, his voice authoritative, as it always seemed to be. Soon enough, Frodo's attention was shifted when Dwalin huffed beside him.
"He calls himself a great wizard, but 'e won't even stop some rain." The tattooed dwarf huffed. Frodo looked over at him, then shrugged.
"I don't know. If this rain can bother even a mighty dwarven warrior, how am I, a simple hobbit, ever going to survive it?" He retorted, which caused Dwalin to huff again.
"Rukhsul menu." He muttered, but the gleam of amusement in his eyes and tone deceived his words. At the amusement, Frodo couldn't help but to smile.
"Now, Master Dwalin," Nori said from behind, tossing a half-eaten apple at Dwalin's head, "it's rude to call someone that. Also rude to insult someone in a different language." Dwalin scoffed and rolled his eyes.
"It's rude to throw apples at people's heads as well, Nori." He said, and Nori laughed.
"I never claimed to be respectable, Master Dwalin, you know that." He grinned, riding between Dwalin and Frodo. The hobbit raised his eyebrows.
"I take it there is a history between you two." The speculation was directed to Nori, and the star-haired dwarf shrugged.
"You could say that. My brothers and I, we're natives of the Blue Mountains, and one of the reasons we went on the quest were stories our Mamad would tell us before she died. She would tell us of Erebor and its magnificence and glory. Dori and I, we always wanted to see it. When I met Thorin, this journey came up... I'm getting away from myself... Dwalin was a guard in the Blue Mountains, and I, well let's just say I was less than honorable-"
"You were a good fer nothin' thief is what you were." Dwalin interrupted.
"Fine, yes, I was a thief. I did what I had to to survive so Ori would have to, are you happy now?" Nori sighed. "Anyway, as you can probably tell by now, Dwalin and I don't exactly get along." Frodo nodded, considering this for a moment.
"Would it not be better for both of you and the journey in general if the two of you got along?" Nori and Dwalin exchanged a look.
"Nah." They said simultaneously. Frodo silently laughed and rolled his eyes at them.
Into the next day, the rain continued to fall steadily, but soon let up after finding a small alcove and hearing a warg's cry. That night, Frodo and Bilbo heard the story of Azanulbizar. The story that branched many things, but no matter how hard he pushed, Frodo could never get more than 'just a bloody orc' from his uncle. Now he was here, now he was living it, he'd be able to sate his curiosity. But now he had something he didn't have all those times before, a name.
It wasn't long after the rest in the alcove that the Company found themselves at a charred farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. It unsettled Bilbo, to say the least. Why was there a farmhouse out here and why was it burnt down? The only worse thing was that Gandalf and Thorin had fought. Gandalf threw up his hands in annoyance.
"Confound the stubbornness of dwarves!" He announced. Bilbo and Frodo exchanged a glance as the wizard walked away.
"Where are you going?" Bilbo called after him.
"To council with the only one around here who has any sense!" He huffed, climbing onto his horse and riding away before either hobbit had a chance to counter his decision. Bilbo wanted to walk over to Thorin and ask him what he'd said to Gandalf to cause him to walk off angrily, but it seemed his "cousin" had already beat him to it.
"What did you say to him, Thorin Oakenshield?" Frodo huffed, his lips pursed. Bilbo felt as though he should say something, but he also had a feeling this would be far too entertaining to stop.
"Why do you care, Frodo Took?" Thorin countered, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
"The person who you ran out of camp happens to be a wizard. In case you've forgotten, we've been hearing wolves or wargs or whatever the hell they were quite a lot recently that there is no other explanation for but that someone, or more accurately, something is hunting us. I wouldn't want to not have a wizard among us when they finally do attack." He argued.
"He's right, laddie." Balin said, coming from Frodo's left. "It wasn't a good idea on your part." Thorin shook his head and walked past the two.
"You don't need to agree with my decision, for it has already been made." He trudged back to the others broodingly. "We make camp here!"
...
When night fell upon the company, Bombur was cooking their dinner, and Bilbo was sitting beside him. They spoke amiably about different spices, and the former cook began to grow fond of the hobbit. Bilbo felt as though he had started to make a few friends. He and Bofur had gotten along well while they rode and now he and Bombur chatted like old friends. Bombur hummed after Bilbo had finished his stew and leaned over to pour some of the remaining in two bowls.
"Fíli and Kíli are on watch," he explained, handing the bowls to Bilbo, "could you run these to them?"
That was how Bilbo found himself cowering behind a tree listening to two trolls complain about mutton, while the third complained about recognition.
"Mutton yesterday, mutton today, and blimey, if it don't look like mutton tomorrer." To be honest, Bilbo was shaking in fear. Anyone would, in his shoes. The trolls were much larger than him, though he was a bit surprised they could speak.
"Never a blinking bit o' manflesh have we had for long enough. What the 'ell William was a-thinkin' of to bring us into these parts at all, beats me- and the drink's runnin' short what's more." Everything about these trolls were large, themselves, their fire, and even the logs they sat on. Not to mention their talk.
"Shut yer mouth! You can't expect folk to stop here forever just to be et by you and Bert. You've et a village and a half between yer. What even happened to a nice 'Thank yer, Bill' for a nice bit o' fat valley mutton like what this is, eh?" There were many things Bilbo could do in this situation, many if he were brave enough. One of which would be to free the ponies, which he would do if he had a sword or something sharp to cut the rope that held their makeshift pen closed. Something inside him, he would blame the Took, of course, pushed him forward and behind one of the trolls, trying to fish his blade from his belt.
It was also what led him to be sneezed on by a troll, which is not a pleasant experience.
"Aye!" The troll exclaimed. "Look what's come outta me hooter!" The trolls gathered around him then.
"What d'you think it is?" One, Bert maybe, asked William, who shook his head and gave the poor hobbit a nasty jab in the side.
"What are you?" He asked. Despite everything, the trolls just seemed like large fauntlings to Bilbo.
"I'm a bur-a-a hobbit!" The near slip of the tongue surprised Bilbo to a degree.
"A burrahobbit? Are there more?"
"Aye, Tom! I found me a burrahobbit right 'ere!" Bert looked rather happy pulling a disheveled Frodo from behind him.
"Maybe we could make a nice shepherd's pie outta them." William suggested. The one holding Bilbo, Tom, tightened his grip as he shook the mucus from the hobbit.
"That's a very bad idea!" Bilbo shouted, after regaining his wits from being shaken like a rag doll, even though his lungs, that were being nearly crushed, protested. "We h-burrahobbits don't cook well, at all. Our meat is stringy... Not at all the sort honest trolls like you would want to ea-" His words gave way as Tom gave him another squeeze.
"What d'you mean then?" The troll asked.
"Well, I cook better than I cook, if you understand me, and there's a secret to cooking anything to make it right for the eating, and I'll tell you. I will tell you what the secret for cooking burrahobbit is if you put me down, him as well, because he knows it too, and we burrahobbits are much better at thinking on our feet than in the air." Bert and Tom exchanged a look before setting Frodo and Bilbo down. Trolls, by principle, are not the bright of creatures, and for Bilbo and Frodo to run now would not be respectable, so Bilbo stood his ground and held Frodo with him.
"Now, what's the secret?" William, who seemed the head troll and by far the most intimidating, asked.
"The secret is..." Skin them first! His mind wanted to shout. Luckily, he had a better grip on his tongue. "...to..." If it wasn't already obvious, Bilbo was stalling. The many books he'd read talked a little about trolls, and many mentioned how they turned to stone in the sunlight. There was still, however, a bit of the night ahead of them. "...have you got any parsley?" Beside him, Frodo shook his head.
"No no, you need thyme to cook a burrahobbit, not parsley." He said. Bilbo shrugged, glad he was playing along.
"I've heard parsley works better, really brings out the smoked quality of the meat." He said, and Frodo laughed.
"But they're cooking rotary style, everyone knows you use thyme when cook burrahobbits rotary." He argued, and now Bilbo shook his head.
"No no, you're thinking seperately, if they're planning on cooking us into a pie, I demand to be cooked with parsley." He said. Were this another time and place, they would laugh at Bilbo's insistence to be cooked with parsley. Since it was not that time or place, Frodo merely threw up his hands.
"Then by all means, if you insist they use parsley to cook us, then I say they use basil as well." He argued, and this time, Bilbo nodded.
"Good, we're at an understanding then. Parsley and basil. Chop, chop. We haven't got all night." By now, the trolls were utterly confused, glancing at each other.
"You... want to be et by us?" Bert asked, dumbfounded. (Which wasn't that difficult to do, actually.)
"Well, only if you do it right." Came Bilbo's snippy reply. For a moment, the trolls continued to sit dumbfounded, the William stood.
"Eh, we're trolls. We don' need their permission ta eat 'em! We just eat 'em!" It was precisely at this moment, when William dove at the hobbits, that Gandalf, bless his soul, climbed onto a rock behind the trolls.
"May dawn take you all!" He shouted before piercing the rock and splitting it in two, displaying a shimmering sunlight that turned the trolls to stone. That was when the dwarves finally came out from the trees, having seen and heard Bilbo and Frodo's grand act at distracting the trolls.
After turning the trolls to stone, the company had time to rest, namely, Frodo and Bilbo did, being that the two of them did all the work. Thorin sent Dwalin, Bofur, Dori, and Gloin to investigate and search for any sort of cave, while he stayed behind. Thorin had a plan, and an insatiable curiosity regarding the burglar's cousin. He'd seen him with Nori more than a few times. Which only enhanced his decision to pull Nori to the side. The thief regarded him with a suspicious glance and raised eyebrows.
"What's this about?" He asked after a moment.
"I need information..."
"So you're finally taking me up on my offer, are you? Good, good. Information on what or whom exactly?" The thief straightened and folded his hands behind himself innocently, his gaze expectant.
"The halfling." Thorin kept his voice low. Nori raised an eyebrow.
"Bilbo?"
"Frodo." The answer was quick but had Nori backing away, hands raised. He was shaking his head. So. The thief did know loyalty
"Sorry. Not him. That would be betrayal." He met Thorin's eyes then. "Not me." With that, Thorin turned, taking it into consideration.
"Then I'll get someone else to do it, there are plenty of curious souls in our midst..." He said with a shrug, starting back toward the others. Five seconds, he figured, and Nori would change his mind...
"Thorin." The thief said firmly, holding up a finger. "If I agree to this, you have to promise me that I can withhold any information from you that I deem appropriate." Thorin turned back.
"I will hold you to that, Nori. I am more than grateful you've agreed to this." He nodded to the thief and turned, walking away. Would make a good Spymaster when we rebuild Erebor. The more he knew about Frodo and his story, the better. He couldn't have someone he couldn't trust ruining his quest.
This thought was nullified when another wizard flew into the clearing with a sled pulled by rabbits. Thorin looked to Gandalf questionably, who smiled at the wizard.
"Ah, Radagast, nice of you to join us."