Chapter 5

You should have finished your cape. It was raining –very hard- and your head was getting soaked. You feared that you'd get wrinkles because you'd been exposed to water for too long. Marian agreed; she was neighing and trotting like her life depended on it. Adding the wet saddle and your soaked butt only made your day slightly worse.

"Is this rain ever gonna stop?" you asked no one in particular, shaking your head for the umpteenth time to make it slightly less wet. No replies were heard. You guessed everyone's good mood had vanished together with the sun.

After a very, very long time, the sun came out again, as if your prayers (and complaints) were heard. The fuzzy ball of hot lava wasn't in the sky for long though; it was almost nighttime already. You were rather happy about that, since you didn't get a lot of sleep after Balin's talk of orcs. And a setting sun meant making camp.

"We'll camp here for the night."

You were glad Thorin said that. Your back and behind were getting sore from being on the pony all day, and you felt a sincere need to eat something. It was the main raison you happily volunteered to help Oin and Gloin and Bombur as they made a fire and food for everyone.

It made you completely ignore Gandalf stomping away. Bombur's cooking abilities could make you forget your misery for a little while, as you practically hung above the pot. You had tried to find out some of his secrets, but to no avail. Today he was making stew. Delicious, healthy stew. Your mouth watered at the thought.

"It's been a while."

You looked up from your bowl of nice, hot stew as Bilbo accepted his from Bofur. Looking around, you noticed that Gandalf hadn't returned yet, indeed. He seemed rather bipolar in your opinion.

"Who?" Bofur asked, not missing a beat in handing out food. You had to give it to the man, and all the other dwarves, their ability of handing and throwing things to people was impeccable.

"Gandalf…"

"He's a wizard, he does as he chooses. Do us a favor and take this to the lads."

You started eating again, hoping that Gandalf would return in the morning. He was the only reason you were on this trip to begin with. You looked up when the two younger Dwarfs stormed back from their watch over the ponies, yelling something about mountain trolls and their burglar being caught. Everyone immediately took up arms, running into the woods, as you raised your eyebrow and put down your stew.

"You stay here and watch the camp," Thorin muttered, before following his company. You hadn't even made any move that showed you were going to get up, but you guessed he felt like rubbing it in that you were pretty useless at the moment.

Oh well. Trolls didn't sound like something you wanted to encounter anyway. And Thorin did make it pretty clear he didn't like you or Bilbo, so you kind of started to ignore him when he said things like that. No use in letting someone who was a few inches smaller than you bring you down.

From your spot by the fire, you could hear the loud battle cries and the screeches of the trolls, until suddenly it was completely quiet.

You blinked and slurped at the last of your bowl.

Well, that couldn't be good. Or perhaps they had killed the trolls? It was a good possibility. You didn't really know anything about trolls. But you did know that the company of dwarves was strong, for sure.

It was only when a lot of time passed that you were starting to get fidgety; what in the name of good food had happened to those dwarves? Surely trekking back to the camp didn't take this long. You were contemplating going after them.

"Where is everyone?"

You smiled when you heard Gandalf talk to you, and scratched the back of your head as you stood to face the wizard.

"They went to fight some trolls quite a while ago."

He sighed. You knew it was wrong, but seeing Gandalf annoyed had something funny about it.

"Where are they then?" the wizard asked, as you turned around.

"Around there somewhere, it's where I last heard a sound," you pointed, and Gandalf promptly dragged you through the woods. You barely had time to grab yourself a knife. It seemed only appropriate to bring some kind of weapon, since it was really vague if this was going to be a rescue-mission or not.

"You stay behind these bushes until the trolls are turned to stone," Gandalf muttered, as you crouched down, and he ran on. You peeked above the leaves; the dwarves were in sacks and on a very primitive barbeque, and Bilbo was talking about parasites.

It was now official: you had joined the weirdest company of travelers in all the world.

The trolls were gigantic, at least twice your size, and 10 times your width, as you thanked whoever was out there that they were at least wearing loincloths. You could make out dirty skin and you didn't feel like seeing too much of it.

Balin noticed you holding back giggles and snorts at the hilarious sight of dwarves messing around in sacks, and you pointed to your knife and then his sack. Cautiously, he dragged himself closer as you began working at the knots. The rope was thick, but you were lucky the knife you brought wasn't too blunt.

You were almost ready when Gandalf burst out of nowhere, breaking a rock in two and blinding you temporarily with the sunlight. Looking up, you watched in slight horror and admiration as the huge things that had just picked up Bombur were slowly turning to stone, their skin cracking and cries dying.

"First time you've seen a troll?" Balin smiled, as you gulped and nodded. Shaking your head a little at the strange sight, you returned to the task of freeing your Santa-look-a-like friend while Gandalf made it a point to break down the do-it-yourself barbeque between the trolls.