4/18/15:

HERE IS THE NEXT EDITED CHAPTER FOR Y'ALL! HOPE YOU LIKE IT!

GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!

~LF221

What woke me was not someone moving about. It was not dawn's first light, gracing the sky. It was not even some animal creeping about. No...it was a massive down-pouring of rain from the sky, drenching me and everything I had that woke me. Already in a sour mood, I saddled my pony and rode out in the rain, hood over my head. Since my pony got a little skittish during rainstorms, it had taken longer, and I was last out of the campsite. I nibbled at soggy bread and cheese, sipping at my water-skin. There was too much rain for a fire, even for our resident firelighters, Oin and Gloin. After a while Bofur, who had somehow lit his pipe, puffed at it before realizing that it had gone out a while ago. Then I heard Gandalf's voice rising above the others', silencing them.

"It is raining, Master Dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done." What was that about? I thought as I tried to spur Maggie on, but she wouldn't go any faster, and was content to promptly ignore my kicks and clicking. Gandalf and Bilbo then had a discussion that sounded kinda interesting, but I couldn't make out every word. It was something about other Wizards in the world. Biting back complaints and curses, I adjusted my cloak, and rode on in stony silence.

=#=#=#=#=

The rain continued for a few days, much to everyone's irritation. We needed shelter to wait out the storm, and none was available.

Until tonight, that is. We had found the wreckage of what looks like a farmhouse, and better yet, the rain had ceased at around midday, and now we were dry and happier. We cheerily went about setting up camp, and I distantly heard a rather confrontational conversation between Gandalf and Thorin, but then I was swept out to the woods with Bofur to gather wooden logs.

"Come on, lass. We need to get wood for Oin and Gloin before Bombur, you and I can cook up a stew." he explained.

"And what makes you think I would let you two anywhere near that stew? You nearly ruined it last time." I teased, poking his ribs before jogging quickly ahead and grabbing some larger sticks. Bofur scoffed.

"You mean Bombur nearly ruined that stew. I told him not to stir it so much, but he wouldn't listen, and-" I cut him off there and smiled.

"Bofur...I was teasing. I just felt like the broth needed something, and Bombur wasn't going to, so I made sure it was satisfactory. I think you can cook fairly well, really." I said, and I could have sworn our cheeks reddened slightly...both of ours, oddly. I smiled and gathered as many logs and sticks as my arms could manage. Oin and Gloin were very pleased with our firewood.

"Thanks, you two! This'll do nicely!"

By this time, Bombur was already setting up his cooking pit.

"You two were gone a long time, Aili." Bombur noted dryly, not turning to face me. I rolled my eyes, blushing, and went to find a stream I could use to get enough get the stew going. I looked around and found that Gandalf was not present. Frowning, I decided to pass the time (and distract myself) by more sparing with Bilbo. I called him over, and as soon as I brought out the sticks we had used during our last session, he blanched.

"Oh, please. The last round just healed."

"We need to toughen up that skin of yours, Master Baggins, before we end up in battle." I reminded him, and he sighed, but caught the stick easier this time.

Fifteen minutes later, Bilbo was dotted with bruises, and I (surprisingly) also had a few. The gleam in Bilbo's eyes was brighter than last time, probably due to the fact that he had struck me a few times.

"Good session, Bilbo. We'll make a proper warrior outta you yet." I said, arm around his shoulder, nursing a bloody nose (he had gotten one good hit to my face) as we made our way toward the campsite. At this time, the stew was done, and we were sitting down to a bowl in minutes. After I was done, I began to wander where Fili and Kili went to, before remembering that Uncle had assigned them to watching the ponies.

They must be hungry.

Apparently, Bofur thought so, too. He just scooped some stew into bowls, while Bilbo flitted about, wandering when Gandalf would be back. Bofur assured him the wizard would be without even looking away from the pot.

"Here, do us a favor. Take this to the lads." he said, handing the bowls off to Bilbo. He then turned to Bombur, who was trying to sneak yet another bowl. As me and Bilbo left to check on my brothers, Bofur smacked Bombur's hand away, but by then I was too far away to hear what he said in rebuke.

=#=#=#=#=

Immediately, I knew something was wrong.

First clue? Fili and Kili didn't accept soup.

Second clue(s)? The uprooted trees. Fili and Kili gazed at them, fixing their eyes only on the scene before them. Bilbo held out his bowls of stew as I sucked mine down.

"What's the matter?" Bilbo and I asked in unison. Kili gulped.

"We're supposed to be looking after the ponies." He said. Fili then spoke up, a look of worry stamped over his face.

"Only we've encountered a...slight problem." He said, nervously glancing at Kili, almost for reassurance. He, too gulped.

"Spit it out." I growled. Kili groaned.

"We had seventeen."

"Yeah...so?"

"Now there's...fifteen." My eyes widened, and (not that I doubted Fili's word) did a quick count of the ponies. Indeed. We were missing two ponies.

Hammer and stone, Thorin was gonna kill us.

Guess now I know why my brothers didn't want to join us. Why they just stood there in shock. Nevertheless, I raced ahead to look around for the missing ponies. No trace of them, just the ominous uprooted trees. I ran a nervous finger through my hair.

"Blast it all! Where could they have gone?" These trees had been like that when we got here, but...there was something about them that made my hackles rise, and the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Something had knocked them down, and was big enough to have done so easily, almost without thought, by the looks of it. I didn't want to meet that thing, whatever it was...

Kili then spoke up, interrupting my thoughts and musings, coming around the bend of the tree. "Daisy and Bungo are missing." He reported. I bit my lip.

"Well, that's not good. Not good at all." Bilbo replied, wandering around, still holding Fili and Kili's stew. "Shouldn't we tell Thorin?" Fili blanched.

"Eh, no. Let's not worry him." Fili said nervously, biting his lip. I rolled my eyes.

"We'll tell him later, Bilbo." I said, patting him on the shoulder. Fili then smirked.

"Besides, as our official burglar, we thought...you would like to look into it." Bilbo paled, but swallowed, and came forward, waving the bowls to indicate things he was talking about.

"Well, uh, it looks like something big uprooted these trees." I scoffed.

"No, it just fell for no reason." Bilbo opened his mouth to reply, but Kili kept talking.

"That was our thinking." Bilbo continued looking around the trees.

"It's something very big, and possibly quite dangerous..." A few moments ago, I had noticed a light, and had walked forward a few feet. Fili now noticed the light, and beckoned everyone over. I then focused on the grunting, heavy laughter, and raucous grumbling coming from a huge light a ways into the forest. Bilbo asked what it was.

"Trolls." Me and Kili responded in unison. With glares of hatred, we moved forward to investigate. Bilbo was right behind us. We hid behind a tree, and watched as a large, ugly troll stomped past us. It carried two ponies under it's arms. I blinked. How had it gotten past us? We should have heard it long ago. Anger flared up in my stomach. This troll had to be stopped. As soon as it passed, I stood and tailed him, regardless of Fili's arm, gripping mine. I pulled my arm through, and jogged as quietly as possible toward the firelight. By the time I got to the troll's campsite, I could barely make out Bilbo's frightened muttering, but couldn't quite make all the words out. I chewed my lip.

"Mutton yesterday. Mutton today. And, blimey, if it don't look like Mutton again tomorrow." One of the trolls grumbled.

"Quit yer griping!" Another yelled. "These ain't sheep. These is fresh nags."

The final troll was just putting the ponies he had just been carrying into a makeshift pen with the other two he stole. I narrowed my eyes. Bilbo really was the best for this job, but...I didn't feel like he should be the one to risk his life. I felt like, despite my fairly significant lack of stealth, I should be the one to put myself in danger, not Bilbo. Biting harder on my lip, I slunk into the shadows, just as Mr. Baggins came jogging stealthily past.

I resolved to stand watch, ready to pull Bilbo out the second things went nasty.

"Oh!" One growled. "I don't like horse. I never have. Not enough fat on them." That's because people ride them around, keeping them strong and fit.

"Well, it's better than leathery old farmer." The one stirring a pot replied. "All skin and bone he was. I'm still picking bits of him me teeth." It made my skin crawl to hear how easily these trolls talked about killing and eating as easily as if they were discussing the weather. By now, Bilbo was inching around the troll's campsite, nearing the ponies. He passed the tree that his me, but was too focused on getting to the ponies to notice me. Not that I mind. I would have blown his cover for sure. One of the trolls sneezed, and then I heard a splashing noise. Gross. What made it worse was when the trolls started talking about the effect the booger would have on their stew.

"Might improve the flavor!" One cheered. And tested the stew, praising it as he offered it to his companion, the one that had sneezed and was clinging to a handkerchief. That one also noted that he hoped the cook would gut the ponies, as he 'didn't like the stinky parts'. Bilbo barely had time to duck as the troll leaned over toward the ponies. The Hobbit was as pale as a wraith, but also looked determined at the same time. I guess that might have come from having to stick up for himself for once, during our sparing sessions. Bilbo's probably feeling more confident now that he has at least a tiny sparring match under his belt. I should push him harder, boost his confidence more, I noted as Bilbo crawled toward the one troll with a crude sword tucked securely in his belt, who was complaining that everything the cook made tasted like chicken, except the actual chicken (which allegedly tasted like fish). I tensed up as Bilbo made his first attempt. The troll reached behind himself and scratched at his rear as Bilbo ducked, looking somehow even more pale and horrified at this. I smiled. There was still some of that simple Hobbit I met in Bag-End. My sparing, although the best thing for him, was draining that out of him, hardening him, fashioning him into a warrior. I just hoped that his heart would remain as open and carefree as it was in Bag-End, no matter what. That would be worse than watching him die. Watching him harden to everyone around him would be something I couldn't bear to see in the HalfLing I treated like a little brother. The trolls then started complaining loudly of their hunger. That's when everything went wrong in the span of around two seconds.

Bilbo was rising, about to wrap his little hands around the Troll's sword...

The dumbest troll started quivering and shaking, breathing heavily...

And then he sneezed, grabbing Bilbo accidentally in his rush...

Without waiting to see the result, I tore as quietly, yet quickly as I could back the way I had come. I found Fili and Kili already on their way back to the campsite. They must have heard my approach. We tore into the center of camp, breathless.

"T-Uncle!" I cried, and he was there in seconds.

"What happened?" He demanded.

"Bilbo...trolls...ponies...caught him..." I panted. Uncle grasped my shoulders.

"Catch your breath, Aili." I took greedy gulps of air obediently.

"Bilbo's been captured by trolls while trying to rescue our ponies!" And we were off again, me and Kili in the lead, tearing ahead of the rest. By the time we got back, one of the trolls had Bilbo by his feet, holding him upside down. I git my teeth and charged, swinging my machete at the one holding Bilbo, hardly aware of it's scream as it stumbled, but remained upright, still clutching our Hobbit in it's filthy hands.

"Drop him!" Me and Kili roared in unison. Of course, they didn't. They just stood there, and I tried to ignore the pleading, injured look in Bilbo's eyes as he gazed at us. I swallowed, and shifted my grip, listening with rising spirits to the stomping, thundering gait of the rest of the Company on approach.

"You what?" the troll holding Bilbo demanded, raising the poor Hobbit slightly. Kili had apparently heard the Dwarves' running, as well. We both smirked, and spun our weapons. Bilbo, white as clean linen sheets, glanced nervously between us and the trolls, as if calculating how effective we could be at enforcing our demands. It was sad to look at, so I focused on the sneering trolls instead.

"We said...drop him." I repeated, and the troll then launched Bilbo at us, and we fell back as he crashed into us.

Fate was with us, as that's the second Thorin and the others came rushing and roaring into the fray, launching into the kind of instinctive, free-flowing, thoughtless fighting that could only come from a group as close as this Company. Me and Kili found our place in this deadly dance, but the longer it went on, the more an unsettling feeling settled over me.

That we weren't doing any real damage. That we may as well have been bees trying to bring a Man down. We may sting, but we couldn't do anything more fatal. Gritting my teeth, I tried to sink my baldes in farther, strike harder, but it did little good. I distantly heard the ponies run away, freed by Bilbo, no doubt. That was all well and good. He still couldn't fight. My thoughts were cut off, however, as a stray kick from the cooking troll sent me sprawling on the opposite side of the camp, where Thorin and the others had wandered to. As Fili helped me up, Kili called back to make sure I was alright. I gave an affirmative reply, but could do no more as a sickening and horrific sight met my eyes.

Bilbo was being held by his arms legs by two trolls, looking horrified and absolutely terrified as the trolls tightened their grips.

"Bilbo!" Me and Kili cried, meaning to rush forward and rescue him, but I felt Dwalin's arm wrap around my waist, drawing me back. I struggled to get free, but the years of mercenary forge-work had paid off for Dwalin, and he won in the end.

"Don't." I heard Thorin order, as if from far away, so loud was my heart in my ears. I growled, hands gripping my machetes in a vice-grip, itching to help the ghost-white Hobbit so frightened before me.

"Lay down your arms," The lead troll growled. "or we'll rip his off." He said, smirking and nodding toward Bilbo. The seconds ticked by slower than I felt I had experienced in my life. Finally, Thorin broke the silence, his sword clattering against the ground. I forced my fingers to release their burden, fearful of the consequences. The Company followed. Bilbo was again tossed toward us, and then a troll came forward, and promptly started stuffing us into sacks. I cringed as the dumb troll squeezed my chest too tightly, before stuffing my awkwardly into a sack, tying it off at my neck before launching me over to where the other sacked Dwarves lay helpless. I landed on Bombur, and rolled off, now sandwiched between Oin and Bombur. If I could only reach my...my...

BOFUR! My mind raced as I saw Bofur's face, among others, being lined up against the spit-like log the trolls had quickly set up. Why I felt this way...I have no idea...but I just...

I bit back a scream as the spit was hoisted onto it's base. The Dwarves secured there started struggling, but the ropes, while not pulled tight, and gravity kept them from escaping. As soon as that was done, the troll cook got more firewood and dumped it on the fire.

"Ow! That's hot, that's hot, that's hot!" Nori screamed as the spit was spun. My breath hitched as I saw Bofur's pained and frightened face spin up and around the log. The dumb troll suggested that they sit on us and turn us into jelly, which was impossible. And just illogical. Okay...I need to reach my boots. I have a knife hidden there...it's one of the few I keep on me at all times. Along with my swords. I couldn't get into a position where my hands could grab my blasted dagger...without severely awkward pain. The cooking troll then informed the dumb one that we outta be 'sauteed and grilled, with a sprinkle of sage'. I licked my lips, which had gone rather dry, now that we faced death...or maybe just Bofur's...oddly. As the spit continued to spin, I began to drown out everything, and focus on getting my dagger, and freeing myself. What happened after that...I had no idea. I just needed to free myself. Then worry about what I would do after.

The longer I struggled to grasp that blasted blade, the further the icy fingers of panic delved into my skin. Time was wasting.

"Wait! You are making a terrible mistake!" Bilbo cried, shattering my focus, so loud did he cry out. The Company (or rather, Dori) was quick to inform Bilbo that trolls were halfwits, and couldn't be reasoned with. Bofur said something so quickly, my frazzled brain couldn't comprehend properly as my mind raced, realizing what Bilbo was doing. He was offering us a chance to live, to make it at least until sunrise, then...we'll see, I suppose...it all hinges on whether or not these will actually turn to stone with the sun. I remembered legends about it, but I have never seen it in person...

Bilbo stood awkwardly, and cleared his throat, leaping to the front of the pack of Dwarves. "I meant with the seasoning." He explained, as I, too, forced my self upright, and over to Bilbo. I was gonna help him, no matter what. This was our only chance...

The cooking troll came forward, curious glare fixed. "What about the seasoning?" He asked darkly. Bilbo then smirked.

"Well, have you smelt them?" He asked, nodding toward the bagged Dwarves at large. "You're gonna need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up!" I licked my lips, forcing my automatic protests down.

"You could try combining seasonings. Such as thyme, basil, oregano-"

"Traitor!" Someone yelled. I nearly groaned. The cook narrowed his eyes.

"What would you know about cooking Dwarf?" The troll still spinning the spit growled angrily.

"There's no better person to talk to on that subject than an actual Dwarf, really." I muttered, loud enough for the trolls to hear. Outraged protests sprang up. I bit my lip subtly. If this kept up, it could blow our story, and any chance of making it til dawn would be thrown out the window. I sent Kili a look that I hoped clearly told him to play along, but he didn't see it as he struggled to get out of the sack. The cook waved the other troll's words off absentmindedly.

"Shut up!" He ordered, not taking his good eye off us. I swallowed. "Let this Dwarf and the FlorgaburburHobbit talk." I tried not to let my confusion at Bilbo's odd title show outwardly. What on earth did that troll mean by 'florgaburburHobbit'? Bilbo smiled, and I forced a grin, as well.

"Uh, t-t-the secret to cooking Dwarf is to...um..." He muttered, trying to quickly come up with a cooking technique. I tried not to look as apprehensive as the other Dwarves as I waited for Bilbo to finish his 'secret'. The cook got restless quickly.

"Yes?" He demanded, growling.

"It's uh..." Bilbo tried again. I licked my lips again.

"Tell us the secret!"

"Give him a moment. We haven't cooked Dwarf for a while!" I growled back, trying desperately to buy Bilbo time to consider how to get us out of this.

"Yes, I am telling you!" Bilbo said with another forced grin. "The secret is to..." More apprehensive staring, all eyes locked on Bilbo... "skin them first!"

"Then put them into a stew!" I added, making the false preparation time longer. The Company looked shocked. The effect was instant: incredulous roaring, threats, and name-calling.

"Tom, get me fileting knife." The cook growled, still not taking his creepy eyes off us. The troll by the fire narrowed his eyes.

"What a load of rubbish." He growled, still absentmindedly spinning the spit over the fire...I had to force my eyes away from the look of horror, hurt and betrayal on all Dwarves' faces, especially on Bofur's... "I've eaten plenty with their skins on."

"Well, you missed the 'stewing' part, didn't you?" I replied, trying to look as sarcastic as I could. This troll was getting wiser to our scheme as time went on. Not a good thing. However, for now, he narrowed his eyes, and fixed them on the fire.

"Scarf 'em, I say. Boots and all." He suggested. I felt panic's icy daggers stab through my veins, and it took every ounce of my willpower not to react outwardly. I fought even harder as two things happened that fought for a reaction.

The dumb troll reached down and plucked up Bombur, proclaiming that there isn't anything wrong with a Dwarf, 'nice and crunchy.'.

That, and I saw Gandalf, leaping across a rock at the back of the troll's camp, hardly a flash amongst the surrounding bushes, but Bilbo and I saw him. Then, just as Bombur was nearing the troll's mouth, Bilbo then said something I never expected, but had to fight a reaction to.

"Oh, n-not that one. H-he's infected!" Bilbo cried, to confused murmurs from the Company. The troll fixed a confused stare on Bilbo and I as I nodded vigorously, not trusting my mouth in my shock.

"Huh?" The troll holding Bombur asked.

"You what?" The one spinning the spit added. Bilbo gulped.

"Y-yeah. He's got worms in his..." He searched for the right word for a moment as I grimaced in fake disgust. "tubes." I nearly scoffed. How polite a term for guts. With a disgusted cry from the dumb troll, Bombur was tossed back amongst the bagged Dwarves.

"I-in fact, they all have." Bilbo squeaked. I didn't like where this was going, but knew it was our best chance. So I squeaked out a 'Yep." as Bilbo continued speaking. "They're infested with parasites. It's a terrible business. I wouldn't risk it. I really wouldn't." Bilbo warned, frowning.

"Parasites?" Oin demanded, angry. "Did he say 'parasites'?" I groaned, but it was too late. The floodgates burst, and the Company rose their voices in sharp protests. This time, me and Bilbo rolled our eyes, restraining our groans with a lot of effort. Thorin seemed to pick up on what we were doing, and kicked Kili, cutting him off mid-protest. Then, the entire Company reversed their tones, telling the trolls in no uncertain terms that they did, indeed, have parasites. I felt only slight relief at this.

"What would you have us do, then?" The troll by the fire roared, nearing me. "Let 'em all go?" It seemed like he was asking a question that wasn't really a question. Bilbo got a falsely thoughtful look about him.

"Well..."

"If you really wanna..." I added, smiling. Just then the spit-spinner came forward and poked us in the stomach with his ladle harshly. Bilbo nearly doubled completely over.

"These little ferrets is taking us for fools!" The troll cried, then circled the fire, glaring at us all the while. The spit had stopped spinning, with Bofur, Dwalin, and Dori on top and the others, unfortunately, facing the fire.

"'Ferrets'?" Bilbo squeaked.

"'Fools'?" The cooking troll added, blinking. Then suddenly came a voice that nearly had me passing out in relief. It boomed out across the camp, silencing everyone. All eyes turned to the rock, widened in relief, bewilderment or just plain confusion.

"The dawn will take you all!" And there was the Wizard in all his glory, standing tall and proud upon the rock.

"Who's that?" One troll asked.

"No idea." Another replied.

"Can we eat him, too?" The dense one asked. I would honestly like to see them try. With the harsh look in his eyes, he wouldn't have to come down from the rock to kill these trolls. Gandalf raised his staff in his hands, and sent it crashing into the rock, slicing it neatly in two, and stepping onto the larger portion. It shone brightly. All cringed, and bowed their heads to escape the harsh sunlight. All sense was lost in the screams and cries of the trolls and the elated cheers of the Company. By the time my eyes adjusted, Gandalf was behind me (I could hear his particularly raspy breath), muttering something that I don't think was English. Then, a thin line of heat seared up my back, and then the sack fell about my feet. I was freed. I turned and saw that the three trolls had been petrified, in various poses of fear. I smirked. Bilbo had done it. We had done it.

We had saved the Company, and single-handedly at that.

=#=#=#=#=

It wasn't my fault. It really wasn't.

Bofur just happened to be the first Dwarf off the spit. It's not my fault he was the first one I hugged.

However, the situation went immensely more awkward when Bofur, having not been on his feet (not to mention the spinning), just kinda collapsed, dragging me with him. I hadn't been as strong as I could have been, as the trolls tied the ropes around my hands and feet so tightly that I lost circulation. We fell about laughing, and the only good thing about this predicament was that everyone was so busy celebrating the fact that they hadn't died to be watching us. As I quickly maneuvered myself away, and stood up, helping Bofur to his feet hurriedly, I saw Bilbo standing a short ways away, covering his laughter with the back of his hand.

"Not one word." I growled in his ear as Bombur came over, wide grin on his face. The brothers hugged, and I went to find Fili and Kili. For some reason, I hadn't been as worried for the sacked Dwarves as I had been for the ones on the spit. I found Fili and Kili hugging and laughing with random Dwarves, and their faces lit up as they caught my eye. The pair closed the distance between us in a matter of seconds. Their arms wrapped around me all at once, and I felt stifled by their combined squeezing. I wheezed as they let me go, and coughed as they smacked my back, laughing.

"That was the most ridiculous thing you have ever done, Li." Kili said, lopsided grin making my giggle.

"I know. But it helped Bilbo save us, so I went with it." I replied, shrugging. Fili frowned.

"You played a fairly big part in all that, Aili." He said seriously. It was my turn to frown.

"Not as large as Bilbo. I had no idea how to get us out of that situation. If it hadn't been for Bilbo's quick thinking...and Gandalf's timely arrival...we would have died." Kili scoffed.

"Nah." He said, and pecked my cheek. We went off and joined in the celebrating. But I kept shrugging off their congratulations. I didn't feel I deserved them. Balin finally convinced me to get some of the credit, saying that it was somewhat due to my affirmations of Bilbo's words that befuddled the trolls. I found Thorin and Gandalf discussing the matter of why these Mountain Trolls would come down this far south. But then Dwalin's arms swung me up and around and around before setting me down. I was laughing as I leaded against his arms. He seemed to be frowning a little less, although I have never seen his true smile since Bag-End.

"That took guts, lass, doing what you did." I felt my smile flicker.

"It was really Bilbo. I just knew to go along with it."

"That's more than any of us could figure out. We owe it to you and the burglar."

"His name is Bilbo, you know." But Dwalin was already off, seeking out his brother. It made me feel slightly guilty that I hadn't sought out my brothers first.

Yet...for the life of me I could not figure out why I hadn't. I chalked it up to simply the fact that those hung up on the spit where in more danger than those on the ground in sacks. Satified, I walked off back to our campsite, arm around Kili's shoulders, joking and laughing about Bilbo and I's intervention.

=#=#=#=#=

Soon after we got back to our camp, we were all relaxing and I had to tell everyone many times what I was thinking, standing there with Bilbo, as he told his own side of the story.

The relaxed atmosphere shattered as Thorin came in with Gandalf, and told us to follow him in no uncertain terms. It turned out that Thorin and the Gray Wizard had found the troll's cave. We entered, coughing and gagging at the truly horrendous stench that threatened to overwhelm us, making our eyes water. Gandalf led the way down into the depths, warning us to be careful what we touched. The further we went in, the more my nose stung with the foul smell. I found many interesting things, as well as many weapons pilfered from the trolls' victims. Bofur stopped and ran his foot over a large pile of gold.

"Seems a shame just to leave it laying around." He noted slowly. "Anyone could take it." I smiled, rolled my eyes, and continued searching for something useful. I found a simple Dwarfish looking buckler, and swung it over my shoulder easily. Then watched as Bofur, Gloin and Nori grabbed a shovel and started collecting the loose gold and putting in into several large chests. Dwalin stood at the head of the trail leading back out of the cave, and glared at the gathered Dwarves.

"We're making a long-term deposit." Gloin explained as he swept dirt back over the chests. Meanwhile, Thorin and Gandalf searched the back of the cave. I walked over and found my Uncle and the Wizard picking up some old-looking, cob-web encrusted swords.

"These swords were not made by any Troll." Uncle Thorin said, handing one to Gandalf as he examined the other one. Both looked marvelously well-forged, with tooled leather sheaths, glinting silver handles, and flowing decorative lines that were easy on the eyes. The style felt familiar, and my suspicions were confirmed as Gandalf examined his, frowning in thought.

"Nor were they made by any smith among Men." He said as he drew his sword out of it's sheath, blowing off stray cob-webs and other debris from the blade, which still looked as sharp as the day it was forged. Elfish work often lasted lifetimes without getting dull, brittle and useless, I remembered. And now I knew. These swords were made by Elves.

"These were forged in Gondolin by the High Elves of the First Age." He noted. I blinked. The First Age? Man, Elves knew how to forge a sword...

Why does Thorin want to leave it here to rust?!

I thought as Uncle started putting the sword back, sour glare on his face. Gandalf glared down his nose at him.

"You could not wish for a finer blade!" He barked, and I left to go outside this foul cave before I fell down, passing out as the stench invaded my senses.

The outside air cleared my head marvelously. All too soon, though, I heard Thorin bark orders to clear out. The Company gathered back at the head of the cave. Just as we started heading out, I heard something come crashing through the trees. I glanced at Kili, and found that he had also heard the noise. Fearing an Orc pack, we headed out toward it, swords drawn and my buckler at the ready. Thorin saw us, and called out. Soon enough, the Company was there, with Gandalf crying for everyone to arm themselves. The crashing came closer and closer as the seconds passed. We tensed as the blurred figure came crashing out, slowing a little to reveal an older man wearing brown robes, and a hat as odd as Bofur's, if not odder. He reminded me a little of Gandalf, if he lived off in the wild. His rabbit-powered sledge came hurdling to a stop in front of us. I peered at this newcomer with slight concern. He had a wild, crazed look in his eyes, and bird feces trailing down his face. All in all, an...odd character, to be honest.

"Thieves! Fire! Murder!" He screeched, snarling as he came to a complete stop. We tensed, waiting to see if this stranger was dangerous. Then Gandalf let out a small chuckle. I blinked, relaxing a little in my confusion.

"Radagast! It's Radagast the Brown!" He called, nodding in greeting, but then got a confused look about him. "Well, what on earth are you doing here?" He asked, walking over to stand near the odd little man, who glanced at Gandalf as if just now noticing him.

"I was looking for you, Gandalf." He said. "Something's wrong." He said gravely, still with a wild gleam to his eyes. "Something's terribly wrong!" He then screwed up his face in confusion, inhaling as if about to speak, then closing his mouth a few times before blinking rapidly in frustration.

"Yes?" Gandalf asked, as if he feared he might know the answer.

"Oh!" He exclaimed, biting his lip. "Just give me a minute." He said, before his face went thoughtful again. I glanced at Kili, as if to say What's this guy's deal? and he glanced back like No idea, cheerful tuck to his lips. "Oh." Radagast cried again. "I had a thought, and now I've lost it!" He cried, waving his arms in frustration. By the tone in his voice, I came to think this was a fairly frequent occurrence. "It was right there on the tip of my tongue!" He whined, frowning. Then, his tongue peeked out again, as if cradling something..."Oh. Ith not a thougth ath all!" He cried, voice distorted due to the odd placement of his tongue. "Ith a silly ole..." He continued, opening his tongue. Gandalf tentatively reached forward, and grasped the end of something that looked too much like a stick. I nearly gagged. What was he doing with a stick in his...never mind. I don't want to know. "Stick insect." Oh, my bad. Stick insect. So much better. Gandalf pulled it out, and plopped it onto Radagast's outstretched hands, for the little guy to be released. The Company all wandered into small clumps, whispering and peeking out at the two men with concern before going back to whispering, leaving me alone. I didn't feel the need to whisper about people behind their backs. With Bilbo, at his house, it had been a bit of a different matter, but this man did not deserve any harsh words, or mockery, as far as I could see. With nothing better to do, I leaned against a tree, feeling drained after the excitement of the day. And with no rest the night before, it made for a sour mix. I sighed, and got as comfortable as I could. But then Bilbo came out, coughing slightly. I started slightly. He stumbled back a little, startled by my sudden reaction. I smiled.

"Yes?" I asked, and Bilbo shook himself subtly.

"Oh, uh...well...it's just...Gandalf's given me a little sword, and I still don't even know how to use one." he muttered, one hand on his waist, fingering his belt, and the other rubbing the back of his head. I smiled.

"Gandalf rarely does anything without a purpose. Just try not to just fool around with it until I can show you how to use a real sword properly. Deal?"

"Oh, don't you worry about me!" Bilbo squeaked, waving his arms. "I won't even touch it unless I have to!" He cried. I frowned.

"You'll need to, Bilbo, before this quest is done, I fear. All I'm asking is that you not try to swing it around as I do until we're further along in your lessons." I said, hand on his shoulder. "If Gandalf himself gave it to you, I fear he may be preparing you for something." I said, and then made the mistake of glancing over Bilbo's shoulder. There, directly behind the burglar, a large, angry-looking Warg was sniffing around, before slipping back over the steep hill behind us. I gulped, and led Bilbo away, telling him we shouldn't be so unsociable. I found Fili and Kili, allowing Bilbo to go off to his own devices. I drew them aside.

"What is it, Li?" Fili asked, hand on my shoulder.

"Don't go looking around, but I just saw a-"

Before I could finish my sentence, I heard an all too familiar growl. The Warg was back. Bilbo was back, pale and frightened looking.

"Is that a wolf?" He asked timidly. "Are there wolves out there?" Bofur, who was next to us, grasped his mining pick-ax tighter in readiness.

"'Wolves'?" He repeated. "No, that is not a wolf." Before Bofur could explain further, more growling came from over the hill, and that same Warg leapt out and over at us.