Eventually Bofur and Bilbo went to help Bombur with supper. Andréa asked Bilbo to be sure the nephews got fed, then wandered over to Ori, Dori, and Nori near the fire.

She sat down beside Ori and glanced at his book. "How is your story coming along?"
Ori gave an awkward smile. "I write a bit each day, to be sure not to forget anything."
She nodded. "Seems wise. So what did you write about today?"
"Gandalf leavin', and that you told us that story about yer mum."
She looked down at the dirt. "Ah." Not a cheery entry. "I probably shouldn't have told that story."
Ori raised his brows. "Was it a secret? Shall I cross it out o' my book?"
"No, that's not-"

"Bilbo!" Kíli's voice cried out over the camp as he and Fíli burst through the treeline to the edge of the camp. "They've got Bilbo!"
Thorin stood, face immediately scowling. "Who?"
"Trolls," Fíli pointed behind them. "Three of them. They took our ponies, too."

Thorin tilted his head, about to ask how that was possible with his nephews guarding the ponies, but the look of fear on Kíli's face gave him haste.
He huffed and rolled his eyes. "Let us rescue our burglar."
The company all took up arms and followed Fíli and Kíli back toward the trolls.

They came upon the clearing, waiting at the edge of the treeline as Bilbo darted this way and that, until finally the trolls caught him.
Thorin noted that when asked if there were any more 'little fellows', Bilbo lied and pretended to be alone - though the trolls didn't seem to believe him.

Andréa closed her eyes, concentrating on her staff to send a message to Gandalf that they were in trouble.
She heard Thorin hiss Kíli's name in anger, and opened her eyes to see him darting through the brush to confront the trolls.

Kíli slashed at the nearest troll's foot and leg, then screamed at the one holding Bilbo.
"DROP HIM!"
"You wot?" asked the troll.
Kíli swung his sword in a circle, then held it before him with both hands. His voice was low and threatening, betraying his anger. "I said, drop him."

It was incredibly brave, and incredibly stupid, Andréa thought. She was sure they all wanted to protect Bilbo, but Kíli had acted without consulting the group or their leader.
Reckless.
She glanced at Thorin for direction.

When the troll threw Bilbo at Kíli, Kíli dropped his sword to catch the hobbit.
Thorin charged forward, and Andréa followed the rest of the group into the fray, attacking with her sword just as frantically as the dwarves did. They all landed fair jabs at the trolls' legs and bellies, but it didn't seem to slow the massive creatures. She tried to stay close to Thorin, Kíli, or Fíli as the company darted back and forth through the clearing.

Bilbo snuck through the chaos to free the ponies, which caught the sight of one of the trolls.
Soon Thorin signaled for everyone to stop.
The trolls had Bilbo held by his four limbs, ready to tear him apart.

"Bilbo!" Kíli tried to rush forward.
Thorin stopped him. "No."
A troll sneered down at them. "Lay down your arms, or we'll whip his off!"

Andréa could read the fear on Bilbo's face. She wished Gandalf was with them.
She looked across the dwarves's faces. Kíli looked extremely upset. Thorin's face was more resolved, lowering his weapon.

Thorin thrust his sword into the dirt in surrender, and the rest of the group reluctantly followed.
Andréa was careful as she laid down her staff, letting the top rest inconspicuously in a nearby bush, such that it just looked like a long walking stick she'd picked up.

Not long later, Andréa was tied to a spit, being turned over the fire along with Dwalin, Bofur, Ori, Dori, Bifur, and Nori. The others were all in sacks, piled together nearby.

Bofur could hear Andréa muttering to his left, though their positioning made it impossible to see her.
She was chanting quietly in Quenya.
After a moment, Bofur felt the heat from the fire receding, though the flames looked just as threatening each time the spit turned to put him directly facing them.
It was all Andréa could think of to do to help them, hoping they wouldn't actually be cooked or eaten.

While those on the spit continued to get more and more nauseated, Bilbo suddenly piped up. He tried to reason with the trolls that they weren't cooking the dwarves properly; something about sage that Andréa could barely process as she strained to concentrate on her chanting.

One of the trolls picked Bombur up, saying there was nothing wrong with a little raw dwarf.
Bilbo panicked. "Not that one! He- he's infected."
"You wot?"
"Yeah, he's got worms! In his… tubes."
The troll threw Bombur back onto the dwarf pile in disgust, the others crying out in discomfort.
"In fact, they all have. They're infested with parasites. It's a terrible business. I wouldn't risk it, I really wouldn't."

Óin and Kíli took offense, and soon were crying out.
"We don't have parasites! You have parasites!"
Thorin watched as Bilbo rolled his eyes, trying not to audibly groan. He caught on to what Bilbo was doing and kicked Kíli hard.
The dwarves in the pile stopped talking and looked to Thorin.
"I've got parasites as big as my arm," Óin said.
"Mine are the biggest parasites! They're huge parasites!" Kíli cried.

Soon all the dwarves were screaming about parasites, and Andréa struggled to keep her magic up through the distraction.
What are they on about?

One of the trolls that was turning the spit stopped and walked over to Bilbo.
"What would you have us do then? Let them go?"
"Well…"
"Don't think I don't know what you're up to! This little ferret is taking us for fools!" He returned to the spit.
"Ferret?!"

A voice boomed out from above a nearby boulder.
"The dawn will take you all!"

They all looked up to see Gandalf, backlit by the sun, raising his staff. When it hit the boulder beneath him, the rock cracked in half, giving way and bathing the trolls in sunlight.
They groaned in pain, trying to shield their eyes as they turned grey and hardened into stone.
Bilbo stared incredulously, and the dwarves all cheered and laughed. They were saved.

While the dwarves got themselves all sorted, Andréa retrieved her staff from the nearby bushes.
Bofur approached and tilted his head at her, pointing his thumb behind him at the spit. "Were you temperin' the fire for us up there?"
She shrugged bashfully. "Ah, yeah, trying. I hoped if we didn't cook, maybe they wouldn't eat us."
Dwalin overheard this and raised a brow, but continued fixing his belts.

Thorin walked over to where Gandalf was examining the trolls.
"Where did you go to, if I may ask?"
"To look ahead."
"What brought you back?"
"A call from behind." He gestured subtly at Andréa.
Thorin raised a brow, following his eyeline. Their blue wizard was leaning into her staff and trying to brush off praise from Bofur.

"Nasty business," Gandalf commented. "Still, they're all in one piece."
"No thanks to your burglar."
"He had the nous to play for time. None of the rest of you thought of that."
Thorin nodded subtly, looking away. He supposed Gandalf was right.

Gandalf looked over the stone trolls. "They must have come down from the Ettenmoors."
"Since when do mountain trolls venture this far south?"
"Ooh, not for an age." Gandalf shook his head. "Not since a darker power ruled these lands."
Thorin and Gandalf exchanged a slightly concerned look.

"They could not have moved in daylight."
Thorin looked around, suddenly curious. "There must be a cave nearby."

The company soon found the cave, rank and buzzing with flies. Remains and belongings were littered all along the walls in various stages of decay.

Kíli rummaged through the trolls' collection, eventually uncovering an elven bow and quiver. He plucked the bow out of the cobwebs and began to inspect it as Andréa walked up.
"Oh, is that bow better than yours?"
He scoffed in offense. "Surely not."
She quickly glanced between the one he carried and the one he'd just picked up. She raised a brow. "No?"
"Of course not. Mine was made by a dwarf. This," he shook the bow he'd just uncovered as though it were rubbish. "Is an Elvish bow."

"Oh," she nodded, her voice somewhere between a sarcastic tease and an attempt to seem like she believed him. "So, then, if you don't want it, I could have it?"
He tilted his head, raising a brow. "Do you know how to shoot?"
She put her hand on his upper arm. "I know an archer." She batted her lashes at him.
He laughed, somewhat plied by her flirtations. "Ah, is that so?" He pressed the bow and quiver against her torso. "Have it. I've no use for it anyway."

She took them as she looked up at him, holding eye contact a little longer than could be considered casual. "My quiver needs an arrow."
He stifled a laugh and looked away, grinning at the double meaning. "I'll keep looking."
She smiled as she put the quiver and bow over her shoulder, then started to help him look for arrows. She winced at the bits of remains strewn throughout the loot.

She decided to make conversation to distract her from thoughts of who those people had been, and the foul stench that filled the air. "Who taught you to shoot?"
"My uncle," he nodded in the direction where Thorin was standing with Gandalf and Bilbo. "Thorin."
"Oh? Does Fíli know how to shoot too then?"
Kíli was somewhat distracted by the search now, sifting through years of collected treasure. "He is more skilled with throwing knives… Ah." He plucked an arrow out of a pile and held it toward her. "That's one."

She took it and kept looking with him. "Have you all been training with weapons just for this journey?"
"It is normal to know how to fight, to defend yourself."
"Yes, but…" She found an arrow herself, grimacing as she scraped it clean. "I only know how to use a sword. I wouldn't know how to use throwing knives, or an axe… I've seen the way you trade weapons in battle. Your company seems so versatile."
Kíli flashed her a crooked grin. "You never know what you might have access to. Better to be prepared."
She nodded. "Seems so."

When Thorin directed them to move on, she eventually found herself riding beside Bilbo.
"You got a bow!" he remarked.
She grinned. "Kíli found it. He said it's of elven make."
"Seems there were a few elven items in there."
Andréa tilted her head and pointed at the sword on Bilbo's hip. "Like that?"
He let out a nervous chuckle. "Gandalf insisted."
"It's good to have a blade. Do you know how to wield it?"
He winced. "Sharp end goes into flesh?"
She let out a small laugh. "That is the gist of it." She looked around to see who was listening but nobody seemed to be paying them any mind. "We could practice if you like?"
Bilbo hummed. "Sometime, perhaps. Can't say I'm keen on the idea of battle."
"Better to know how to defend yourself and not need to, than need to and not know how."
"Hm."

That night after they stopped for rest, Kíli went to do a quick survey of the area around them.
As he headed back toward camp he came upon Andréa, who was struggling to try to shoot arrows.

"Stop, stop!" he called out, rushing to where she stood with his hands up.
She froze in the position she'd been in, eyebrows raised in confusion.
He put his hands over hers on the bow. "You're going to hurt someone shooting like that. Probably yourself."
Her shoulders slumped as she slowly released the tension in the bowstring.

He read the embarrassment in her face and flashed an easy smile. "Here, let me show you how to do it."
He pulled out his bow and held it out so she could see what he was doing. "You need to hold it lower on the grip. See how it is shaped for your hand?"
She nodded and followed his instruction for several minutes as he explained the different parts of the bow and how to properly nock and draw an arrow. She was grateful for his patience and the two found themselves smiling at each other as she asked questions and he answered them.

"Another thing to keep in mind is to never dry fire your bow."
"Dry fire… as in, without an arrow?"
Kíli nodded. "You might think to do so to practice your draw, or train your muscles, but it can destroy the bow. The arrow takes the force of the draw with it, so if you release the string without an arrow, the force goes into the bow. The string may snap, and take your eye, or else the limbs could break off…"

She raised her brows. "There is much I did not know about archery." She looked down at her bow, grateful he'd come across her before she'd gotten very far playing with it.
"Are you intimidated?" he laughed.
"It takes much to intimidate me." She grinned up at him. "And I've such a wise teacher, besides."
He laughed a bit, and found himself feeling bashful at her praise. He wasn't sure anyone had called him wise before. "Ah, Thorin is even moreso…"
"Mmm," she hummed in contemplative agreement. "Your uncle does seem wise, especially of battle. But you are kinder."
The two shared a comfortable silence for a beat as Kíli was unsure what to say in response to the followup compliment.

He put his hand out. "May I see your bow for a moment?"
She passed it to him readily. "Of course. It may as well be yours."
He laughed. "That's fine for me, but you should be careful not to let others handle it. They can damage it."

He examined the bowstring carefully. "It's strange…" He held it toward her at an angle, catching the moonlight. "You see how your string shines like this?"
She observed it, unsure what he was getting at. "Yes?"
"An old bow should need a new string. I usually wax the string after a battle or practice, but this string must be of some special make."

Her eyes lit up in excitement. "Ah, like Hithlain?"
"Hithlain?"
"It means…" She tapped her bottom lip as she tried to translate the Sindarin word. "Mist thread? The Elves use it to make rope. A rope made of Hithlain is said to be incredibly strong."
He hummed. "It is of Elven make," he agreed. He held it against his own bow to compare them, noting that they were roughly the same size. "Though it is much smaller than their bows tend to be. Perhaps made for a child, or for a Man to wield on horseback?"
"I hope it was not for a child." She wrapped her arms loosely around herself. "That would mean the trolls ate a child."
"Regardless, it is remarkable." He held it out to her.

She took it back, then gazed up at him with a hopeful expression. "Perhaps it was made for a dwarf?"
He laughed somewhat incredulously. "Made by an elf for a dwarf? Unlikely."
Her smile faded. "Why is that funny?"
He composed himself. "I mean no offense. But dwarves and elves are not common allies."
"Perhaps neither are dwarves and wizards, or even hobbits, but I don't think it so strange."
He furrowed his brow. "Elves are different."
She tried to keep her tone light. "Why do you not like elves?"

His face sombered even more. "You know of the way the elves of Mirkwood betrayed Thrór."
"I- yes, I do. But I meant… why do you hate elves?"
He recalled the pain in his uncle's voice the many times he'd told the tale of the fall of Erebor and Dale. The deep resentment that his family had passed down began to boil in his gut. "The betrayal of my kin is not enough?"
"To hate all elves?"
Why was she asking him this? It was normal for dwarves to hate elves. "They cannot be trusted. Thorin has said so."
"Then, no dwarf has ever betrayed a trust?"

"Do you know many trustworthy elves?" he snapped, annoyed.
"I do, in fact." She gripped the bow against her chest, her voice soft with affection. "The elves of Rivendell showed me remarkable kindness when I was deeply in need of it."
He snorted, his reply biting. "Proof enough that you are no dwarf."
Elves don't help dwarves.

With that, he suddenly turned to walk back to camp.
She turned to follow. "Kíl-" She stopped when he quickened his pace.

She stood there for a long moment, watching as he stalked away.
When she was alone, she sat down on the cool earth and pulled her necklace from under her shirt.

Some time later, she was startled by Bofur's voice.
"There ye are! Thought we'd lost our backup wizard."
She wiped at her face as she stood up in the cool din of night.
Bofur put his hands up, instinctively placing them on her upper arms as he ducked down toward her face. "Aww, were ye cryin'? What's wrong, lass?"
"No, I'm fine." She sniffed and forced a smile.

He frowned, clearly not convinced. "What did that brat Kíli do?"
"What?" She blinked in surprise.
"He said he was showin' you the bow. That wasn't some kinda innuendo was it?"
"No," she laughed nervously. "He really did," she gestured to her bow. "It was very kind of him."
"Aye…?" He tilted his head suspiciously. "And so why'd he come back to camp without you?"

She looked away uncomfortably and shifted her feet. "I… I asked him something and it seemed to offend him."
He pursed his lips and considered this. "Did you mean to offend him?"
"No! Of course not." She chewed her bottom lip. "I was just trying to understand… why he hates elves, and…"
"Ahhh." Bofur nodded in understanding. "Thorin's quite hateful on elves, so naturally Kíli takes after him. Not that most dwarves and elves get along anyway, mind you."

"I don't understand why, though."
Bofur studied her face, noting the deep sadness this rift seemed to cause her.
She rubbed her arm. "I've known such kind and generous elves and dwarves alike. It seems a shame." She looked up at Bofur. "That's all I was trying to say. But of course with what happened at Erebor, he'd be upset that I would try to defend elves…"

Bofur smiled softly, thinking it funny that Andréa seemed to be making excuses for Kíli when she was the one who'd been crying about it.
"Let him sleep on it. He'll get over himself."
"No, I- I think I should not have brought it up… I should probably apologize."
Bofur gently pinched her cheek. "I'll not have you crying over the offense taken by wee Kíli."
She offered him a bashful smile. "Thank you, Bofur… But he really was being kind to me." She tapped her bow. "I might have hurt myself otherwise."
"I'm sure you'll be a great archer in time."
She let out a soft laugh. "I will try."

He smiled to himself that he'd cheered her up some. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and started walking back.
"Let's get you back to camp and fed, aye? If you're lucky, there'll be something Bombur hasn't gotten to."

By the time he'd walked her back to where the rest of the company was set up, she was giggling about a story he was telling her, his arm still wrapped protectively around her shoulders.
Kíli looked up when they got back to the group, and watched as she was escorted to sit with Bifur and Bombur. To his mild surprise, she seemed to genuinely delight in their company. Though perhaps it was just that Bofur was obviously being humorous.

After sitting with Bofur and his kin for some time, Andréa absent mindedly scanned the camp.
The moment that she and Kíli's eyes met, she felt a lump of nerves in her throat.
The two stared at each other tentatively across the clearing for what felt like eternity - but was in reality barely a few seconds - before she got distracted by something Bombur said and started laughing again.

When she looked back over, Kíli had turned his back to her.

When Andréa excused herself to sleep for the night, Bofur waited for her to be away from their group, and settled near the hobbit, before he headed over to Kíli.
Kíli was sulking as he sat looking out into the wilderness. Fíli was at his side, telling an old story to his brother and laughing to himself about it.
Bofur came up behind and grabbed Kíli's upper arm, pulling him to his feet and toward the edge of camp. "Come with me a moment, lad."
Mostly out of surprise, Kíli did as he was told. He wasn't sure if Bofur had ever spoken to him so forcefully before. He gave Fíli a confused look over his shoulder. Fíli shrugged in equal confusion, but did nothing to stop them.

Once they were out of sight and earshot of the rest of camp, Bofur stopped abruptly and shot Kíli a stern look. "Right, now we're gonna have a chat."
Although they were about the same height, Kíli immediately felt like a child being scolded. He tried not to seem intimidated. "About…?"
"About the girl."
"Andréa?"
"That's the one. You know many other girls in our company?"
"What… about her?" Kíli shifted uncomfortably. Had Bofur seen him watching her?
"You need to be kinder to her."

He furrowed his brow in annoyance and gestured. "I wasn't unkind to her. She was the one who was being difficult."
Bofur raised his brows, skeptical but open. "Oh? What'd she do that was so awful then?"
"She was defending elves. Saying they'd helped her."
Bofur nodded. "Then right she should. And naturally she'd defend us if an elf spoke ill of dwarves, I bet."
Kíli didn't know what to say to that, and pursed his lips in frustration.

Bofur relaxed some of the tension in his shoulders and tilted his head at the younger dwarf. "Kíli, she cares for you, and cares what you think. You must consider others before you spout off."
Kíli's scoffed. "She doesn't care what I think."
"No? She was cryin' when I found her. I'd say she felt some kinda way about it."
His face shifted immediately to concern. "Crying?"
"She was." Bofur nodded. "And tellin' me how awful she felt having offended you, and how nice you'd been to her an' all. Teaching her the bow."
Kíli rubbed the back of his neck guiltily. "Crying," he murmured.
"Well, that's all I wanted to tell ya." Bofur patted Kíli's shoulder and walked past him toward the camp.

Kíli stood in the dark for a moment, thinking on what Bofur had said.
She cares for me?
He'd been so irritated by her arguing with him that he hadn't considered that she'd be anything but cross with him in return. She told him I'd been nice to her? The thought of her crying because of him made his stomach sick.

He pulled out his runestone and turned it over in his hands several times before heading back to camp.

The next morning Andréa walked away from the group as they prepared breakfast, and sat where she had the night before. Clutching her necklace, she began a morning meditation.
Kíli waited several minutes before following after her.

"Andréa?" he called, still several yards from her.
Her shoulders hunched slightly at the sound of his voice, but she stood, putting her necklace back under her shirt.
Her voice felt thick when she spoke. "Good morning Kíli."

He stopped five feet ahead of her, one hand palming his other which was in a fist. He raised his brows, attempting a light tone. "How are you this morning?"
She shrugged. "I slept well, but…" She looked away. "I am sorry for yesterday."
"You- You are sorry?"
"I did not mean to belittle what the elves of Mirkwood did to your people."
He took a small step forward. "Oh. I didn't think that."
"Then, perhaps I should not have spoken of elves at all?"
When she looked up at him, her expression made his chest hurt, and he didn't know why.

"I must have said something that upset you, and for that I am sorry, Kíli."
He shook his head. "No, it's fine. I was being unreasonable. Of course if you were helped by the elves of Rivendell, you would take offense to me speaking ill of all elves."
Her voice was soft as she took a step toward him. "I wasn't offended. I understand."

He let out a small sigh, feeling somewhat relieved. "Still. Bofur said that I made you cry, and for that I apologize."
"Oh." She rubbed her arm. "It wasn't- It wasn't what you said that made me cry. I- He misunderstood."
Kíli's brow furrowed and he stepped forward again, putting a hand on her shoulder. "What made you cry, then?"
She tried to look up to meet his gaze, but his proximity made her nervous somehow. Instead she looked down to his feet. "I was… homesick."

He gripped her shoulder, knowing all that she meant by that. He recalled how often she held her necklace to think of her parents, thinking that for all that she tried to appear carefree, she was actually quite a sentimental person.

"I hope Bofur wasn't cross with you. I should tell him-"
"No, it's fine. I am sorry. For how I behaved, and for your homesickness."
"That's hardly your fault." She looked up to see an empathetic expression on his face.
"Even so," he used his free hand to move some stray hair from her face. "You think of it less when you are happy."

"I am happy," she assured him. "Traveling with this company."
He gave a small, crooked smile. "I am glad to hear that."
A twinkle of mischief returned to her eyes. "Even if you hate all elves."
He let out a small, hollow laugh. "I don't hate all elves. To the elves who helped you, I will stay my judgement."
She smiled bashfully up at him. "Thank you."

They stood smiling softly at each other for a moment before Kíli found his eyes wandering to her lips.
He removed his hand from her shoulder, taking in a deep breath. "Breakfast will be ready soon, I'm sure."
She nodded. "Yes, you must be right."

When Kíli turned to head back, she put her hand on his arm.
He stopped and turned to face her again.

"Thank you." She licked her lips. "For last night. I wasn't able to say so then, but… It was very kind of you to explain everything."
He shook his head bashfully. "Think nothing of it."
She put her hand on her chest. "No, I will think well of it."

He tilted his head and looked her over. "Well, another archer in the company can only be helpful."
She smiled and shrugged. "So long as I improve my skills," she laughed.
He laughed and nodded in the direction of the camp. "Come on."
She nodded and walked back to camp with him while Kíli told her stories about learning to shoot from Thorin.