A big thank you to those who've reviewed and favorited this story! You guys keep me motivated. Also, once again I do not own the Hobbit in any way, and am making no profit.
Thorin looked over his company. He was pleased with how well they had all done so far. They were making good time, and were starting to get to know one another and feel like a cohesive unit. Even that little hobbit and his sister were doing well.
He hadn't realized until several hours too late to do anything about it, but he never had agreed to have them. They had simply signed the contract and given it to Balin. As he'd been there and hadn't objected, Balin had taken that as his permission and welcomed them to join. By that point, he'd have looked a right idiot if he'd said anything.
Curse the delicous cooking of the hobbits! He couldn't even say they'd done it on purpose! They seemed to be at least somewhat practiced in camping, and were willing to pitch in with whatever needed doing. He had yet to hear a complaint, which was a pleasant surprise indeed.
The worst he'd seen was when his nephews did their best to scare them with tales of orc raids. Scowling at the thought of the cries in the night and the disclosing of his personal history, he let his gaze continue on to the rest of the Company. He'd been disturbed by the unearthing of old memories, but couldn't deny Balin his right to speak.
The unspoken looks of loyalty on his companions faces, including the hobbit and his sister, had also been very welcome. He couldn't deny it. It had helped to heal a little the hole that had been left in him when so many of his kith and kin had denied him.
Dismissing the dark thoughts from his mind, he returned his gaze forward. It was almost time to camp, and he'd started looking for a good place to stop. That clearing ahead looked promising. There was an old, ruined farmhouse, but the damage didn't look too recent.
He turned and signaled a halt. Most of them seemed eager to get off their ponies and get a bite to eat, but a few seemed a bit uneasy, gazing at the farmhouse with apprehension. Gandalf in particular looked disturbed. On learning that he'd known the farmer and his family, he put it down to that. He didn't think they'd have any trouble.
A farmer and his family were hardly the same thing as a group of armed dwarves. Besides, the damage looked old. When the wizard proceeded to once more hound him about visiting the elves, it set his mind in stone. They were staying here, and they'd be fine. He felt a little uncomfortable when the wizard left so abruptly, with that angry comment flying back to the hobbit, but he was determined. They'd be fine.
Luin was most certainly not fine. Bilbo had never come back from taking the young princes their dinner. When the blonde brother came back shouting about trolls, her heart sank. When Thorin scowled at her and told her to stay as she prepared to go find her brother, she almost cried.
Sitting in an empty camp, knowing that they should have been back by now, she was almost ready to change and go barbecue some trolls. She most definitely was not fine. Deciding barbecue was a sound plan D, she clutched her bow tightly and stood up.
If they thought she was going to stay in camp while they all got eaten, they were out of their minds. Nodding firmly to herself, her face very pale but very determined, she set out to find some trolls, her brother, and some dwarves that were quickly becoming family.
Bilbo pondered the situation he was in. Trussed up in an itchy sack like a giant potato, tossed on a pile of squirming dwarves. He was grateful his sister wasn't here, yet at the same time, a small traitorous part wished she was. He didn't think even these fearsome creatures could take on a dragon.
On the other hand, he really didn't want to share her secret with the Company. He was certainly becoming fond of them, and was sure they were becoming fond of both of them, but he didn't think their fragile bonds of fellowship would survive finding out his sister was a fire breathing Dragon.
Also, there were three of them and his sister was still rather small for a dragon. She might be able to rival two of the trolls in size. She wouldn't be able to rival all three, though the fire breathing and sharp claws might even it out a bit.
No, better she didn't risk herself. He couldn't bear it if anything happened to her. Just as he was thinking this, and confusing the trolls with his wit, he was horrified to realize that he'd seen a flash of black hair on the other side of the clearing.
It put him off his game a bit, and he almost didn't manage to save Bombur from becoming raw troll food. His excuse worked somewhat, at least for a little while. He cursed in his head when one of the trolls proved to have at least a little wit and saw through his plan.
As it scooped him up, he was shocked when an arrow whizzed by his ear and buried itself in 'Williams' eye. As the troll's hand went slack, he knew it was dead. He rolled as he dropped, lessening the impact. As Gandalf made an appearance (finally!) He looked regretfully at the now stone corpse. He hated it when his sister had to take a life.
It had only been goblins and animals before, and now a troll, but he regretted her innocence. He still remembered their first fight about it, though. She'd been so serious.
"Bilbo,"she'd said.
"I can't stay in the Shire forever. I need to change, and stretch my wings. I need to hunt. I can't do that at home. I have to go out, and when I go out there is always the chance I'll be attacked. I will defend myself, and you, and the innocents of the Shire. Don't think I've forgotten the Fell Winter. I know what these monsters would do given the chance. Every one we get is one who won't attack someone else."
He'd looked at her then and known she was right even if he hated to admit it. She might look young, but she'd seen just as many horrors as him. Also she was built for it, descended from some of the most powerful of Morgoth's spies and shock troops.
He once again remembered his father's words, that she was not a hobbit and he shouldn't try to make her one. (This thought had not helped when he'd realized she was ready and willing to take on three mountain trolls...by herself .He'd almost had a heart attack just now!)
He just hoped fervently that she never had to use her skills on anyone that didn't have black blood running through their veins, and vowed once again to do his best to make sure that she didn't forget that she was still a child and it was still alright to play.
Accepting assistance from the nearest dwarf in freeing himself, and giving him a nod, he looked around for his sister. He winced when he saw their leader making for her with a thunderous expression on his face. Oh, that would not end well.
She surprised him though. Instead of raging back, declaring herself right, and refusing to listen she took a different tack. She listened with a sad face until Thorin was done, then hugged him and told him she'd never been so scared. There were tears. He hadn't seen her cry in years. She must have been more rattled than he'd thought!
As he hurried forward from where he'd paused to figure out her reaction he couldn't help but be somewhat amused at the flabbergasted look on their mighty leader's face. Taking her from Thorin's arms he received a look of gratitude. It tickled his sense of humor once again, but he didn't let it show on his face.
He simply gave Thorin a grave nod, and took his sister to sit down and calm herself. She started to talk, as he'd known she would if he kept quiet for a few minutes. He waved the young princes off as they started over to check on her. Finally understanding what she was saying, his eyes softened.
She hadn't been scared for herself. But she'd been terrified for them. As much as she liked to act mature, and indeed she was very mature for her apparent age, she was still very young for her people. Seeing so many people she cared about so close to death had shaken her.
He held her and murmured soft words of encouragement and love, and waited for her to settle her nerves. The dwarves in the meantime found the trolls cave. He watched as they called for shovels and buried their find, and as Thorin and Gandalf emerged with new blades.
He sat up a bit as she settled, and he saw Galdalf look over at them. As Gandalf apparently determined that it was safe, he came over to Bilbo and Luin carrying something. He smiled regretfully at Luin, then handed Bilbo a sword. Well, he was sure no one else would call it a sword.
It would be rather short for anyone else, but he found it fit him just fine. He shared a smile with his sister, and put it away. Gandalf's words on sparing life were also taken to heart as the well meant admonishment they were.
As Gandalf turned to Luin to check her spirits, Bilbo spared another look for his sword. Yes, he decided. He would wield it responsibly, but he would wield it. He would protect his companions, especially his sister. But he would make sure he didn't kill needlessly.
Looking up, he found Luin smiling sadly and Gandalf looking slightly disturbed. She'd probably given him a talk much like the one she'd given Bilbo. If she had, he couldn't blame Gandalf for being disturbed. No one that looked so much the child should be so mature on this topic. Standing and helping his sister up, they made their way back to camp with the others to gather their gear.
They may not have gotten any sleep last night, but it was sure as certain no one was going to get any now. As Ori and Bifur went to get the ponies, they all heard something large crashing through the bushes. Gathering together and readying their weapons, Bilbo could only think "I didn't want to use this sword this soon!"