Updated A/N: I tried posting this a couple days ago, but it doesn't look like it worked. If it did post and this is just me posting the same chapter again, please let me know. Otherwise, I'm sorry if you had to wait extra time.

A/N: Hello again, beautiful people. Welcome to the month of May. Now, it won't affect anything for a little while, however I am going to warn you now that I enter my exam season on the 16th, and so chances are updates will be hella slow around that time. I'll do my best to keep everything as normal as possible, but if I'm really late posting, that'll be why. Now, just warning you now, this chapter is kinda fragmented, so sorry in advance if it's difficult to keep up.

Big thanks to the following people for following/favouriting: StarWarsHarryPotterfangirl2788, cutelittlekitten18, Sophia Kaiba, Fireshadow277, MrsTChrist, KobrasKicks, AstraeaCassiopeia, FireRoseWarrior and AmeliePond1997.

Review Response(s):

Just4Me: Yeah, those dwarves do seem like the kind to make the best additional family, don't they? Don't worry, one of my main focuses is weaving that into the story somehow. Glad to hear you're still enjoying it ;)

CrystalVixen93: As always, here ya go!

Sophia Kaiba: Aww, glad to hear it! Thank you for the comment, and of course for sticking with it :P

'You may be deceived if you trust too much, but you will live in torment if you don't trust enough.' ~ Frank Crane

Chapter 4:

Later that night, after most of the dwarves had fallen asleep, Alana returned to the camp, having gone to check on their surroundings. Kili, Fili, Bilbo and Gandalf were the only ones awake. Fili and Kili because they were on watch, Gandalf because he seemed to be so deep in thought that he probably hadn't noticed how late it was, and Bilbo... well, Alana wasn't really sure.

As she walked through the camp, Alana noted with some amusement that Bombur was inhaling and exhaling a group of small moths. Neither he nor the moths seemed to care much about this. "There's nothing within at least five miles of this place," she reported, the two Durin brothers glancing her way when they heard her and then offering a silent nod each. Before sitting down on her rolled out bed roll, Alana unbuckled her belt and placed it next to her, as she did every night. Then she lay down on her side and quickly fell asleep.

A loud screech woke the Ranger up with a jolt, and she was on her feet in seconds, her sword in her hand. Her belt, however, remained on the floor by her bed roll. Alana quickly ran from the camp to scout the area again. It didn't sound like orcs, but it could have been goblins. As she reached the edge of the cliff, a second screech sounded. Her sharp eyes scanned the land with haste, but there was nothing moving. Only mildly reassured, Alana headed back to the camp. She returned just as Thorin snapped at his nephews.

"You think that's funny?" he was saying. "You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?"

Alana looked at the brothers in disbelief, but their guilt-filled faces told her that what Thorin was accusing them of was true. Anger bubbled in the pit of her stomach, though she quickly pushed it down by telling herself that they seemed genuinely remorseful for their actions. "We didn't mean anything by it," Kili muttered, eyes downcast.

"No," Thorin growled, "you didn't. You know nothing of the world." The exiled King then turned and stalked towards the edge of cliff. By this point, most of the dwarves were awake, the loud voice of their King rousing them from their slumbers.

Balin walked up to the brothers. "Don't mind him, laddie," he murmured to Kili, who still looked guilty. Fili was slowly becoming himself again, though his usual cheeriness was absent from his face. "Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs." Alana glanced over at Thorin, wondering if he was going to stop his old friend from sharing his tale, but he made no move to do so. "After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria." Balin sighed. "But our enemy had got there first. Moria had been taken by legions of orcs led by the most vile of all their race: Azog the Defiler. The giant Gundabad orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began," Balin's voice wavered for a moment, before he continued, "by beheading the King. Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we did not know. We were leaderless. Death and defeat were upon us." Balin glanced at Thorin, and when he turned back, Alana could see the respect in his eyes. "That's when I saw him; a young dwarf Prince facing down the pale orc." Alana had to cover her mouth with her hand when she heard those words. Pale orc. A shiver went down her spine. Fortunately, no one seemed to notice, or if they did, they made no comment. Balin went on. "He stood alone against this terrible foe, his armour rent, wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog the Defiler learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken. Our forces rallied and drove the orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated. But there was no feast, nor song that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived." Once more, the white haired dwarf glanced over at Thorin. "And I thought to myself then... there is one who I could follow. There is one I could call King."

Thorin turned away from the cliff, only to find everyone staring at him. Alana had tears in her eyes, half from the story, half from the memory of the pale orc and how he had ripped apart her family. Part of her was relieved to finally have a name to match to the face, but the rest of her was still lost in the memory of her father's death, and the utter rage it provoked.

"But the pale orc," Bilbo muttered. "What happened to him?"

"He slunk back into the hole from whence he came," Thorin spat out bitterly. "That filth died of his wounds long ago."

"Thorin..." Alana sighed, for she did not have to be the one to tell him this. Despite that, he deserved to know. His steely eyes met hers. "The pale orc is still alive, to my knowledge."

Thorin scowled. "He died. He died many long years ago."

Alana shook her head. "No, Thorin. I don't know what injuries you inflicted on him, but he was alive eight years ago." Her eyes shifted down, to where her hands had begun trembling. She consciously forced them to still.

"I cut off his hand," the dwarf told her. "He was losing blood too fast - there is no way he could have survived."

Alana winced. "Well, they saved him." She looked up, her eyes full of sorrow and despair. "One of his arms was a claw, the spike protruding from his elbow."

"Azog cannot be alive," Thorin insisted, his eyes blazing and... slightly frantic.

Alana sighed again, tears cascading down her cheeks freely now. "He was the one who murdered my father," she croaked out, her voice cracking on the final word. And with that, she was on her feet and fleeing from the dwarf King's fierce eyes. As soon as she was completely out of sight, Alana broke into a run. She couldn't be with them right now. After running for about thirty seconds, she launched herself into the branches of a tree. She scrambled up at least twenty feet, before sitting on an ideally angled branch and resting her back against the trunk. It took almost an hour for her to calm down enough to fall into an uneasy sleep.

At dawn, Alana was woken by much shouting. It would seem the company were looking for her. When she listened closely, she could identify eight different voices calling her name. One was quite close. Looking down, Alana quickly caught sight of Bofur.

"Do you need me?" she asked.

Bofur was so startled by her voice that he stumbled, and then tripped over a branch. He ended up on his back, looking up at her. He grinned, picking himself up. "We're leaving again. And a few of us were worried, since you hadn't come back during the night." He then turned in the direction of the camp and yelled, "I've found her!"

Alana quickly descended about five feet, before leaping from the branch she ended up on. She landed with a light thud in front of the dwarf. The vibrations that jolted up her leg were short-lived, but still slightly painful. "Lead the way," she said. Bofur nodded and then began walking back to the camp. She noticed that his walk was different somehow to what she was used to. It took her a moment to realise it wasn't quite as light or bouncy. Alana had a feeling this was because of the conversations they'd had during the night.

When they returned to the camp, Alana made the point of not meeting anyone's eyes - except Gandalf's - as she began pulling on all her weapons. She heard a few mutters floating in the air around her, but paid them no attention. "Were you unarmed last night, lassie?" asked Bombur. At least, Alana thought it was Bombur.

Alana shook her head as she packed, still not looking at any of them. "No, I have some daggers on me at all times. It's just my sword and bow that I take off at night." Once her weapons had been refitted, Alana swung herself onto Eluviel's saddle. "I'm going to scout ahead," she said to no one in particular, before urging Eluviel into a canter.

"What about breakfast?" Fili called after her.

"You can save it for another time!" she shouted back. The path was open and empty for a few miles, before the trees started again. A feeling of dread settled in the pit of her stomach, and Alana yanked Eluviel to a halt. Startled, the mare reared up, and Alana had to fight to keep hold of the reins and not fall off. Eluviel also snorted, just to make her displeasure even more known. Alana ignored her. Her gaze swept over the plain, trying to take in every detail. Eyes were on her, that much was certain. It was a feeling Alana hated with all her being. It made her feel exposed and vulnerable. Weak. After a moment though, the feeling was gone, so, after a brief hesitation, Alana got Eluviel moving again. This time, she headed back to the dwarves.

She met them at the bottom of the cliff. "What did you see?" Thorin asked immediately. "We saw you stop very suddenly."

"I saw nothing, but I knew there was someone watching me." Alana replied, patting Eluviel's neck when the mare shuffled her weight. "We should continue with caution." Thorin nodded, and offered her no more words. Alana said nothing else, either.

For six weeks they continued like this; camp, travel, camp, travel. It was on this day their luck turned sour.

At around noon, their sunny streak ended. Rain fell hard over their heads. Alana sunk back into her cloak, but despite how thick it was, it was still soaked. At least it provided her with a little warmth. Alana was used to life in the wild, so was used to the rain, but that didn't mean she enjoyed walking or riding in it.

"Mister Gandalf!" Dori yelled. "Can't you do something about this deluge?"

Alana smirked. Gandalf's response was so... Gandalf. "It is raining, Master Dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you want to change the weather of the world then you should find yourself another wizard."

"Are there any?" Bilbo asked.

Gandalf looked down at him. "Any what?"

"Other wizards."

"There are five," Gandalf replied, turning his gaze forwards again. "The greatest of our order is Saruman, the White. Then there are two blue wizards... Do you know, I've quite forgotten their names."

"Alatar and Pallando, Gandalf!" Alana called from slightly further back.

Gandalf nodded. "Yes, that's right."

"And the fifth?" Bilbo asked curiously.

"That would be Radagast the Brown." Gandalf stated with a smile, glancing back when Alana grinned, recalling her single encounter with the eccentric brown wizard. Despite the rocky start (which was mostly her fault, because she'd almost killed one of his beloved rabbits whilst out hunting) the two had struck up a somewhat tentative friendship.

Bilbo hesitated. "And is he a great wizard or is he... more like you?"

Alana couldn't hold back her snort of laughter.

The wizard in question huffed. "I think he is a very great wizard, in his own way. He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals over human beings. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to the east, and a good thing too, for evil will always look to find a foothold in the world."

Alana frowned, good mood gone in an instant. Could Gandalf feel it, too? A shadow had been growing in the world, spreading from the east. A threat. It had been doing so for quite some time now. Alana had hoped she was just being paranoid, but Gandalf's words did not reassure her.

They arrived at an old farm later that day, just as the sun was setting. The farmhouse was utterly destroyed, and Alana didn't want to think about what could have caused so much damage. She only half listened as Gandalf suggested they continue on, but Thorin, stubborn as ever, refused to do so.

Rolling her eyes, Alana passed Eluviel over to Bifur's care and looked closer at the ruins of the farmhouse. The stone had been shattered; broken by force, and clearly by something very large. A foul smell - quite weak now - lingered on the stone. Dread was settling in Alana's mind. Dread, mixed with confusion. What in the world could cause so much damage this far south?

Gandalf suddenly stormed off past her, startling her out of her thoughts.

"Where are you going?" Bilbo asked, visibly alarmed. Alana frowned as she watched the fuming wizard. He was very rarely aggravated this much. Would could Thorin have possibly said to him?

"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense," the wizard snapped his reply.

"Who's that?"

"Myself, Mister Baggins!" As Gandalf left the camp, Alana distantly heard him mutter that he'd had enough of dwarves for one day. She couldn't help but chuckle under her breath at these words. It amused her greatly that Gandalf - a man as stubborn as the mallorn trees of Lothlórien - could be outdone by... well, by anyone. For that, she took off her metaphorical hat to Thorin.

"Right, let's get some food cooking," Bofur said, breaking Alana from her thoughts. She couldn't help but agree - her stomach had been feeling painfully empty for the better half of an hour.

Alana, in the corner of her eye, saw Bilbo turn a worried look towards Balin. "Is he coming back?" he asked quietly.

When he received nothing but silence from Balin, Alana spoke up, her voice soft and assuring. "He was the one who brought us into this. He would not abandon us. I'm sure he just wants to clear his head." She turned her gaze towards Thorin, who was pointedly ignoring her. They had been avoiding each other for six weeks now - Thorin still refused to believe Azog was alive, and so Alana was content to just leave him with his thoughts until he decided they could start speaking again. Whether he believed her was irrelevant; she knew the truth. "One thing you should know about Gandalf; he always appears exactly when you need him. As he will always claim: 'A wizard is never late. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to'. He'll be back, I assure you."

"Fili, Kili, go watch over the ponies," Thorin barked, startling his nephews. They quickly scampered off.

It was dark by the time their food was ready. Having recently lost her appetite for some inexplicable reason, Alana told Bombur that he could serve everyone larger portions. She would settle for an apple. Bilbo was asked by Bofur to take two bowls to Fili and Kili, who were still watching the ponies - a job which Alana thought would be absolutely riveting. About half of her was glad that was not her out there, while the rest just felt sorry for the brothers who had been stuck with the dull task.

Just as Alana was lying down to rest, Fili and Kili burst into the camp. "Trolls!" Fili yelled.

Alana cursed and jumped to feet, running off in the direction they'd come from while everyone else questioned the brothers. Alana rolled her eyes. Now really wasn't the time to be asking questions. Since Bilbo had not appeared beside them, Alana automatically assumed he'd been caught.

True enough, when the trolls rolled into view, she found Bilbo in the hand of one of the three foul creatures. She silently drew her sword just as the dwarves arrived by her side. Unfortunately, Kili didn't stop. He kept going. Right into the view of the great beasts. He slashed at the ankle of the nearest troll, before scuttling out of their reach.

"Drop him!" Kili snarled, holding his sword unwaveringly up to the trolls.

They blinked stupidly. "You what?"

The dwarf Prince growled, his eyes narrowing. "I said... drop him!"

After a glance at Bilbo, the troll who was holding him threw the hobbit at Kili, knocking them both to the ground. It was then that the rest of the company ran out. Alana fought alongside the dwarves, pausing every now and then to watch in awed amazement as they pulled off some incredibly... strange moves that should have taken months to perfect. On more than one occasion she was almost stepped on or caught during her moments of distraction, but she evaded the dense creatures with little trouble. Although there was one time where she accidently bumped into Dori, knocking him to the ground - and then consequently made his body a springboard-type thing for Nori, who used the extra height to slash at the arm of one of the trolls. All in all, very impressive.

"Stop!" Alana snapped her head up to see Bilbo held in the clutches of two of the brutes. "Lay down your arms, or we'll rip his off," the one troll that wasn't holding Bilbo ordered.

With an frustrated huff, Alana thrust her sword into the dirt. The other members of the company soon did the same, grumbling to make their annoyance known. In an instant, the group were caught by the trolls. The one that grabbed Alana roughly shoved her inside a sack. He then chucked her over to where the others were lying. Alana landed with an 'oof' on someone's legs, their heavy, steel-capped dwarfish boots pressing against her side. She glanced upwards, and found to both her and his distaste that she had landed on Thorin.

One of the trolls huffed. "Don't bother cooking them," he complained. "Let's just sit on them and squash them into jelly."

"They should be sautéed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage," the 'cook' disagreed.

Dori scowled. "Is this really necessary?" he snapped.

"Ooh," the first troll said, ignoring the dwarf, "that does sound nice."

"Untie us you monsters!" Oin shouted, writhing in his sack a few feet from Alana, who simply rolled her eyes. As if that would work.

"Take on someone your own size," Gloin snarled.

That caused everyone - except Thorin and Alana - to start yelling insults and whatnot, but Alana could hear the underlined tone of fear in many voices. Even she could admit that their chances of surviving this were not good.

The third troll, the hairiest of them all, suddenly growled. "Don't worry about the seasoning; we ain't got all night. Dawn ain't far away, so let's get a move on. I don't fancy being turned to stone." Alana's ears almost literally twitched at hearing this. She looked up at the sky. If her calculations were correct, dawn was only minutes away.

"Wait!" Bilbo cried. He somehow managed to wriggle onto his feet, where he then jumped closer to the trolls. "You are making a terrible mistake."

"You can't reason with them!" Dori cried. "They're half-wits!"

"Half-wits? What does that make us, then?" Bofur shouted back.

Bilbo ignored them. "Uh... I meant with, uh, the, uh, with the seasoning!" he stuttered out.

One of them cocked his head to the side, his interest caught. "What about the seasoning?"

"Well, have you smelt them? You're going to need something much stronger than sage before you plate this lot up," Bilbo said, somehow managing to sound... amused. A roar of outrage came from just about every mouth.

"Traitor!" Thorin shouted from above her, and Alana aimed a powerful kick at the hobbit's legs to get him to stop talking. She unfortunately missed.

"What do you know about cooking dwarf?" Hairy asked, suspicious.

The other, however, pushed his friend out of the way. "Shut up and let the... flurgaburburrahobbit talk."

Bilbo sent the troll a nod of thanks. "Uh... The secret to cooking dwarf is to, umm..."

"Yes, come on."

"It's, uh..."

"Tell us the secret," the troll probed.

"Yes, I'm telling you. The secret is to... skin them first!"

The hobbit looked so proud of his answer that Alana wanted to punch the expression right off of his face. Unfortunately, in her current position, she couldn't do that. So, she resorted to yelling, instead. "Bilbo, shut your damn mouth!"

The troll closest to Bilbo smirked. "Tom, get me filletin' knife."

"If I get you, you little-"

"I won't forget that!" Dwalin growled, interrupting Gloin midsentence.

'Tom' sneered. "What a load of rubbish! I've eaten plenty with their skins on. Scuff them, I say, boots and all."

The first one nodded in agreement to his friend. "'e's right. Nothin' wrong with a bit of raw dwarf. Nice and crunchy." The troll grabbed Bombur and held him up over his mouth, apparently not bothered by the large dwarf's struggling.

"No, not him! He's infected!" Bilbo shouted.

"You what?"

"Yeah," Bilbo said, "he's got worms in his... tubes." With a squeak, the troll dropped Bombur back onto the pile of dwarves (and one human) on the floor. The ginger dwarf landed heavily on Alana's stomach, causing her breath to escape her lungs. Thankfully, Bombur had the sense to roll off her stomach, allowing her to breathe again. Still, the fact he rolled onto her legs didn't make her feel that much better. The dwarf was just as heavy as he looked. "In fact they all have!" Bilbo added quickly. "They're infected with parasites. It's a terrible business; I wouldn't risk it, I really wouldn't."

"Parasites! Did he say parasites?!" Oin roared.

"We don't have parasites, you have parasites!" Kili cried.

Someone suddenly shoved Bombur away, and Alana found herself being lifted. "What about 'er?" the troll asked, prodding at her.

"Get your filthy face away from me!" Alana growled, only to gasp when the troll's hand squeezed around her.

"She clearly don't have parasites!"

Suddenly, Alana understood. Bilbo was not saving his own skin, as she had thought, but rather buying them all time for the sun to rise. "Yes, I do," she said hurriedly. "We all do." The troll narrowed his eyes at her, before he was distracted by a dull thump. Suddenly, the dwarves started agreeing with her.

"I've got parasites as big as my arms."

"Mine are the biggest parasites. I've got huge parasites."

"We're riddled."

"I'm riddled."

"Yes, we are. Badly."

"What would you have us do? Let them all go?" The troll narrowed his eyes at Bilbo. "You think we don't know what you're up to? This ferret's takin' us all for fools!"

Bilbo huffed, indignant. "Ferret?"

"Fools?"

Gandalf suddenly appeared on top of a rock behind the trolls. "The dawn will take you all!" he shouted.

"Who's that?"

"No idea."

"Can we eat 'im too?"

With a powerful thrust, Gandalf's staff struck the rock, splitting it in half. Sunlight streamed through the gap. Shouting out in pain, the trolls quickly became motionless, their greasy, smelly skin quickly turning to cracked stone. Alana's eyes widened in fear as the troll holding onto her tightened his grip around her. She groaned loudly as her ribs creaked in protest, and she wriggled violently, trying to free herself. But then the troll gave one last squeeze, and her ribs failed. Several loud cracks echoed through the forest, only to be drowned out by Alana's piercing scream, before the Ranger slumped forward, unconscious.

Thorin stared up at Alana, a concerned frown on his face. The troll had clearly snapped her ribs, and the resulting pain must have consumed her. But now she was stuck in the stone hand of a troll. Gandalf approached the troll and muttered some words under his breath, before tapping his staff against the hand of the troll. Instantly the whole arm turned to dust, and Alana dropped like a stone from eight feet up. Thankfully, Dwalin was stood prepared to catch her.

Thorin felt a potent fear strike him when her skin paled significantly at the contact, and he rushed to the Ranger's side, swiftly ripping the sack away from her body. Gandalf pressed his hands against Alana's ribs the moment it was removed, chanting again. Thorin watched in awe as Alana's ribs corrected themselves audibly, and her breathing became easier. Gandalf let out a tired sigh of relief.

Grateful for the reprieve, Thorin turned to the grey wizard. "Where did you go, if I may ask?"

"To look ahead," Gandalf replied vaguely.

"What brought you back?

"Looking behind." He looked out over the plains, then at the three dead bodies of the trolls, now strangely shadowed in the light of the early dawn. "Nasty business. Still, you're all in one piece." Then he glanced at Alana. "For the most part, anyway."

"No thanks to your burglar," Thorin huffed.

"He had the nous to play for time," Gandalf defended quickly. "None of the rest of you thought of that." Thorin supposed the wizard was right. It seemed the hobbit had more brain than brawn, and while not overly helpful in the grand scheme of things, he could not deny they may well owe their lives to the hobbit's quick thinking. Gandalf tilted his head to the side. "They must have come down from the Ettenmoors."

"Since when do mountain trolls venture this far south?" Thorin inquired.

"Oh, not for an age. Not since a darker power ruled over these lands." He frowned thoughtfully. "They could not have moved in daylight."

Thorin perked up. "There must be a cave nearby."