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Marie spent the next little while picking dried troll snot off herself as the rest of the company looked for their stolen weapons and cloths. Bombur and Bofur had to force Bifur back into his pants once he was freed from the spit. For the sake of privacy, Marie went and stood behind one of the stone trolls as they did.
"That was an interesting night." Marie said to herself, her finger trapped in a large knot of hair and snot.
"Indeed," Gandalf chuckled and appeared at her side, "I must say I'm glad that your colourful tongue is still as sharp as ever my dear." He patted her head, making Marie shuffle her feet awkwardly, "Didn't think they would buy it, I just said the first few things that came to me."
"I believe that it confused them more than anything." He tapped the troll's head with his staff, "Still, it is easy to confuse a mind with nothing in it."
"Alistair once said that."
Gandalf glanced down at her, noting the woebegone tone of her voice, but before he could question it Thorin strolled over to them. "Where did you go if I may ask?" He asked, hand resting on the hilt of his blade. It looked as though he had not seen Marie standing there, which irked her a little.
"To look ahead." Gandalf answered simply, like their previous argument had not at all passed.
"What brought you back?"
"Looking behind. Nasty business trolls. Still, good to see that you're all in one piece."
It was then Thorin chose to acknowledge the hobbit, "No thanks to your burglar." He tilted his head as he gave her an unfavourable look. Marie pulled her finger out of her hair, not wishing to give him another reason to be ridiculed by him, "It was your nephews who had the bright idea to send me in first instead of warning you."
Gandalf, ever the she hobbit's champion, came forward to her defence. "She had the thought to play for time when none of you did. She may have gotten you into a mess but she did a good job of helping to get you out of it."
But Thorin was only half listening to the wizard. His gaze had dropped from Marie's dirty face to the cut on her neck, where a trail of dried blood travelled down towards her shirt collar. She was lucky that she only had a mere cut, but what of the next time they cross paths with danger?
Marie took notice of his stare but misinterpreted the meaning of it, "I'm sorry for causing such a fuss." She turned in a huff and went to join the others.
Thorin just shook his head. 'Women.'
"Since when did Mountain Trolls venture this far south?"
"Not for an age. Not since a darker power ruled these lands." Gandalf lent on his staff and had that far off look in his eyes again. "They could not have moved in daylight, so how ...?"
Thorin looked back behind him, noticing the trail of small animal bones and trampled bushes heading out of the camp. "There must be a troll cave nearby." He looked over to his men to call them over, but hesitated as he noticed something that, oddly enough, bothered him. Marie had gone straight over to Fili, Kili and Balin, the only ones of his company that she talked to freely, and seemed more relaxed than a mere minute ago. Kili was muttering something of an apology to her, his usually grin replaced with a frown of guilt. Marie uttered a few words and patted his shoulder, instantly changing Kili's expression back to normal.
Thorin needed to suppress this unpleasant feeling brewing in him. "We're moving out!"
xxxxx
After searching to path, the dwarves and Gandalf came stumbled upon and cave under a large boulder, with the stench of death emanating from it. Marie gagged and backed off a little, as did a few of the others. The entrance of the cave was littered with more remains, but also varies pieces of wagons, furniture and even the odd goblet.
"What on all this good earth is this?" She asked, muffling her mouth with her sleeve.
"A troll horde my dear Marie. Trolls collect anything of value and hide them in underground caves." Gandalf answered briskly, unaffected by the smell as he lowered himself into the cave.
"Bofur, Nori, Gloin, you come with us. Ori you take Bifur and gather up the ponies. The rest of you wait out here." Thorin followed Gandalf's lead and climbed into the darkness, with four reluctant dwarves in tow.
"What did he say?" Oin held his ear trumpet the wrong way and missed the order. "We stay here." Marie said loudly for the old dwarf and stretched out her back, hearing something crack. What she wouldn't give for a decent night's sleep in a proper bed at that moment.
Gandalf and the selected dwarves delved further into the horde, finding at last objects of worth scattered about under thick layers of cobwebs and dust. Piles of gold pieces and small trinkets pooled at Bofur's feet, and he started to feel that dwarvish greed creeping up on him. "Seems a shame just to leave it lying around. Anyone could take it."
"Agreed." Gloin said from across the cave with glee, having found a half empty chest of silver goods, "Nori, get a shovel." The three dwarves hastily hid the now full chest in a hole and covered it in dirt, claiming it as a 'long term deposit'.
Thorin himself was not immune to the dwarvish greed. He found a stash of swords in heart of the cave and pulled two from the pile. Being a blacksmith, he could see fine work in just the hilts of the swords. "These were not made by any troll."
He handed the longer sword to Gandalf and kept the finer blade for himself.
"And not by any smith among men either." Gandalf carefully pulled the sword from hits sheath and inspect the blade, "These were forged by the High Elves of the first Age."
As soon as he heard this, Thorin's opinion of the sword lowered and he thought to put it back into the dust pile. "You could not wish for a finer blade." Gandalf said before he could do so.
Thorin frowned and pulled the blade out to see just how fine it was. It was light and easy to wield, but still strong enough to withstand a good fight. The balance was perfect, and there was a trace of elvish scripture along the edges. As much as it pained him to even think it, the craftsmanship of the sword was unparalleled and he would be a fool to not take it.
As he fitted the sword across his back, Thorin felt his boot kick something. Judging by the soud it made, it was something metal. He crouched down to brush away the dead leaves and found a small blade with a copper red hilt and charcoal coloured sheath. To a normal man this would be no bigger than a dagger, even in Thorin's hands it was too small to wield in war. The blade looked to be of the same elvish make as his new one, in fact their looked remarkably similar.
For some reason the thought of Marie appeared in his head when he held the blade. If she was going to get herself into more trouble in the future, she might as well have some form of protection.
"Gloin, Nori, Bifur, let's move on." Thorin called and headed for the exit. They all left the without hesitation and breathed in the fresh air of the morning to remove the stench from their lungs.
Marie had placed herself well away from the cave and fumbled with the leather strap of her travel bag with an expression of boredom all over her face. Thorin stomped over and held out the small blade, not saying anything. Marie just looked at the dwarf and the blade. Unsure of what to do until Thorin grumbled "Take it," she let him drop it into her outstretched hands.
She looked up and down the foreign tool before remembering her manners, "Um ... thank you Thorin."
But he was already gone when she looked up.
She slowly pulled out the sword to view it herself, marveling at its strange beauty.
"Careful now Marie."
"Honestly Gandalf, do you make a point appearing out of nowhere?" Marie was clutching her heart from shock. The wizard made a noise in his throat that she guessed was a form of a chuckle as he adjusted the long sword around his waist. "That is an elvish blade my dear. It is sharp as it is light, so mind your fingers."
Marie nodded and looked back at the metal, seeing her reflection in it. "Why would Thorin give me this? I told him that I've never used one."
Gandalf glanced over at the dwarf in question from under his large hat. This simple act, regardless of its intentions, was a good step Thorin was making.
"Well, I personally hope that you never have to." Gandalf looked back down at the hobbit, "Just remember, true courage is about knowing not when to take a life, but when to spare one."
Marie processed each word he had said, wondering what he meant by 'true courage'.
"Up ahead!"
"There's something coming!"
Gandalf's ancient face grew tight and he drew his sword with lightening speed, Marie just fumbled about with the hilt and pointed the small sword in front of her knowing for sure that she was holding in the right direction. The rest of the company readier their own strange weapons as the sound of rustling became louder, along with "Murder!"
Out of the thicket came a sled made of only slim branches and worn out twin, pulled by ten ... rabbits. The driver was a small man in layers of rags, furs and other various materials. His long brown beard blended into his cloths, and an odd shaped hat of brown felt sat atop and extremely filthy head. His eyes darted around wildly, almost ferrel like.
Gandalf was the only one who knew who this person was.
"Radagast." He sighed and sheathed his blade. The dwarves all looked at eachother and lowered their weapons.
'This is a wizard?' Marie cocked her head and started at the strange fellow, not aware that she was still pointing her new sword at him. She only became aware when Thorin's sturdy came crashing down on her hand.
"Put that away before you hurt yourself."
Marie would have, but as Thorin was watching the two wizards he kept his hand on her's, preventing her from letting go. Marie was sure that he wasn't doing it intentionally.
"What on earth are you doing here?" Gandalf approached the startled wizard.
"I was looking for you Gandalf," Radagast was breathing heavily, "There's something terrible wrong."