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Chapter 5

It was growing dark the next time we stopped.

"There looks a good place to set up camp!" Gloin said, pointing across the fast moving waters to the opposite bank, where a cluster of weeping willows provided a small shelter from the wind.

We had been travelling through a valley, meandering along at the side of a swelling river and looking for a place to cross when Bilbo spotted the bridge. He had good eyes, this Hobbit, unlike me – Oh I could see the bridge, but from this distance I couldn't make out any detail other than it was grey.

We crossed one at a time. The bridge was made of stone and looked sturdy enough (not that I know much about bridges) but wasn't wide enough for anything other than single file. Bilbo's pony, Myrtle, balked a little as she crossed, nervous of the rushing waters that swirled beneath her, but she was the only one. As usual, Betty didn't give a rat's arse.

The light of the rising moon filtered down into the valley, obscured occasionally by a cloud but quickly revealed again by the strong winds, giving us enough light to negotiate our way back to the willows. There was a small clearing within the trees which we rode into.

"Gloin, see to the fire," Thorin ordered once we were all present. I take that moment to stumble from the back of Betty who actually turns her head slightly to look at me with a snort. Result! "Bomber, Oin, prepare supper – Bofur, Nori, the horses."

I am standing beside Betty, with Mal sitting on my feet as everyone else bustles around to start setting up camp. Bilbo catches my eye and gives me a wide eyed look, perhaps wondering if we should help, I shrug.

Gandalf takes this moment to announce he is leaving.

"Where are you going?" I asked, frowning as Nori takes Betty from my side, leaving my rucksack behind for me.

"I am going to look!" He says, smiling at me and being intentionally vague. "I shan't be long."

As I mentioned before it's been a while since I read the Hobbit, and I'm pretty sure Gandalf's departure during the troll incident (one I'm not looking forward to, just so you know) is a lot more angry than this one in the movie. I let him go with a grumble. I don't like not knowing what's going to happen.

"Anything I can do to help?" I ask, swinging my arms uselessly.

"Aye, lass, fetch me some more fire wood," Gloin suggests from where he is kneeling beside a pitiful pile of twigs and leaves. "The fire's going to need more than these sticks in this wind! Take the Hobbit!"

"Alright, Mal, you too!" I say, patting my leg. Mal hops to my side and together with Bilbo we pick our way through the trees, away from the camp and the river.

There isn't much light in the trees, their leaves blocking out the moonlight, so I tried to be careful as I navigated the dark ground. You know I have a torch in my bag, right? Yeah, I remembered it round about this time too.

"Ow!" Bilbo mutters as he stubs his toe on a jutting rock. Got to be careful of them too. The two of us begin to gather while my dog jumps around, leaping in the undergrowth and flicking dirt as he attempts to dig holes.

"You're not helping Mal!" I grumbled, stooping down to pick up a branch, snapping it over my knee before adding it to my small pile. He snorts. "Dog's are meant to be good at bringing back sticks, you know!"

He doesn't care.

"Fine, but you're not getting any of my dinner if you don't pull your weight." I threaten, picking up another log. Bilbo chuckles.

"He's certainly very ener-"

Something that isn't me snaps a twig, and from the mild look of terror on Bilbo's face it wasn't him either. We back up against each other, eyes darting around in the darkness to try and locate the source of the noise. There is some quiet grunting, and some snuffling - out of the corner of my eye I see it move within the trees.

"B-bilbo!" I whisper, tapping his arm as we both turn towards the dark shadow that is trundling towards us. Mal's ears swivel forwards like little radar dishes and he stares into the darkness – I don't find this reassuring at all. I slowly start to back up, dragging Bilbo with me. This has got to be enough fire wood, right? Yeah. Time we got back to camp.

There is a squeaky sort of snarl and Mal launches himself forwards, while I panic and almost drop all my logs. I've heard that noise before.

"It's just a badger!" I say, letting out a nervous laugh. I'm not sure if Bilbo is feeling quite as stupid as I am at this point, getting scared like that.

"Mal!" I snap, keeping my eyes on the dog who's tail is up as he assesses the badger. "Get back here!"

"Oh no!" Bilbo squeaks. The badger darts forwards towards us and I let out an embarrassing little shriek and stumble into the Hobbit. Evidently we have disturbed the badger while it's out looking for something to eat. Don't get me wrong, I'm usually not too scared of badgers, I just don't want it trying to take a bite out of me, Bilbo or Malik.

Mal rumbles a low warning growl to the badger - which gives an angry chitter in reply - and turns on his tail to join us as we make a hasty retreat back to the camp, our bundles of sticks safe in our arms. Mal looks extraordinarily pleased with himself, but he's had a run in with a badger before and not gotten away so lightly.

"There you are!" Gloin said when we returned, beckoning us over with a large hand. "What took you so long?"

"There was a badger." I reply lamely. Badgers can be pretty mean and personally I like to keep my distance, but obviously a single badger isn't going to be much trouble for these guys. Bilbo nods feverishly.

"A badger?" Gloin repeats, at least not laughing in my face. I nod. "Close by, was it?"

"Yeah, not too far away." I tell him, dropping my sticks down beside him with a huff, Bilbo does the same. There are small bits of foliage all over my front, as well as what looks like a woodlouse. Ugh. I brushed that off quickly, suppressing a shudder, then settle myself beside the ginger dwarf.

"I'll let-" Gloin starts to say something, but doesn't get very far as a shout goes up on the other side of the camp.

One of the ponies, hell if I know which one, had spooked at something, rearing up and snorting in fear. Nori and Bofur are moving in to try and calm it, but it stamps down and then bolts, sending the two dwarfs sprawling.

"After it!" Thorin commands, and his nephews leap up to give chase with Bifur a step behind. Gloin lurches to his feet too, scattering the expertly gathered twigs as he hastens after the little horse, followed by Nori and Bofur. Thorin himself charges off after the group a second later.

Have I mentioned that I don't like ponies?

Hm.

It had been my intention to leave them to it, but of course Mal, thinking this a fun looking game, sprinted off after them. You thought I was joking when I said he was going to be what killed me, didn't you?

"Mal get back here you little son of a-" I pushed to my feet, with the plan of chasing after him but Dwalin stops me.

"I'll get him, lass, you see to that fire." The older dwarf orders. I blink.

"Oh uh, No, I think I'd better go-" I reply, uncertain. I'd much prefer to go after him myself. Not just because he's my dog – well, actually that's pretty much it. He's mine, my responsibility and I need to look after him.

Dwalin however is already striding out of the makeshift camp after my idiotic canine, taking the decision out of my hands. I sigh.

"I'll make the fire then." I mutter, regathering up all the sticks and dried leaves that Gloin had messed up. Dwalin is lucky I'm not as useless as I look, building a fire is definitely within my skill-set. I glance up as I grab for my bag, trying to see where everyone else is. Bombur and Oin are still gathering the items for dinner, Dori, with the help of Ori have gone to see to the rest of the ponies. Balin is bent over one of the packs, searching for I don't know what, and Bilbo is hovering nervously, looking like he wants to help but not sure how to do so.

I fumble around for my dads lighter for a moment – I really do carry too much stuff with me – then set to work on setting everything I can on fire.

Within a few moments I have some smouldering leaves which quickly ignite the dried moss, then we're in business! The lighter is stashed back in my bag and I blow a little on the moss to help it along.

Job done.

I sit back as the flames start to lick up around the sticks, a smile on my face. Dwalin still isn't back with Mal however, so I get up and wander to the edge of the Willow trees, squinting into the twilight in an attempt to see where everyone had run off to.

Now would be a really bad time to be attacked by orcs, what with half the company (and probably the most capable half) off chasing a pony.

"You alright lassie?" Balin asks, coming to stand beside me. I nod slightly.

"Yeah, I was just wondering what was taking them so long." I muttered, the old dwarf chuckled.

"Fili and Kili are fast, but even they can't outpace a pony that quickly, Thorin will keep them all safe," He said, patting me on the shoulder and turning away again. "They'll not be long, I'm sure."

I nod again, still frowning. Balin doesn't seem to realise that Mal is more of a hindrance than a help and is likely to scare the pony more. I don't like not knowing what he's up to. Still I return to my place by the fire, scuttling backwards slightly so Bombur can set up his pots, and I wait.

Dinner is almost ready when the pony chasers return. Sandy, as it turns out, had run right into the river, not realising that it curved around a stand of trees instead of flowing straight onwards. The poor pony was still snorting, eyes wide in panic after her unintended swim as Nori leads her back to the others.

Fili and Kili are forced down beside the fire -by their furious looking uncle- soaked and shivering with sour expressions - because of course they had been the ones to leap in after the struggling pony in an attempted rescue. I learn later that this was a particularly stupid idea. Not because of how cold the water was (apparently dwarfs are quite resistant to most illnesses, colds included), but because neither of them are overly strong swimmers and they had more trouble getting out then Sandy did.

I am also unsurprised to find Mal soaking wet. He trots over to me happily, splattering water with every wag of his tail and a grin on his face. I am on my feet before he reaches me because one of his favourite games after a swim is to stand right next to me and then shake it like a polaroid picture.

"Get away from me!" I yelp, hopping to the side as he begins to convulse, sending water flying in every direction. I still get some on me, despite being almost on the opposite side of the camp at this point. "Dwalin!"

"Sorry lass," The dwarf said gruffly, not even a little sorry. "He jumped in before I could stop him."

"Some good you are." I mutter in annoyance.

"A good thing too," Bofur says, looking a little soggy himself as he motions to Fili and Kili. "Pushed these two right towards the bank he did."

"Aye, he's smart, that one." Dwalin said, nodding towards Mal who had settled himself down beside the warmth of the fire to dry off.

"Oh yeah, a real Krypto." I agree sarcastically. None of them understand of course. I don't believe Mal was intentionally helpful - he is never intentionally helpful - he loves swimming and was probably just trying to get the boys to play with him, not because he wanted to be a hero.

It's upsetting to admit but at the moment my dog is more popular than I am.

Great.

Thorin is pacing angrily back and forth on the other side of the fire, face like a slapped arse. I assume because his sisters sons almost drowned themselves, and am half tempted to ask what happened, but considering he looks as if he might actually try and kill me, I decide against it.

Gandalf conveniently reappears just as Oin is dishing out supper. I have several theories about where the wizard keeps disappearing off to over the course of this adventure, none of which reflect very well on him, so I'll keep them to myself.

Dinner is some sort of soup with a hearty chunk of bread which I tuck into with gusto, since Mal has apparently been gifted with his own portion and I want to be finished before he comes begging for mine. No one else has taken Malik's appetite into consideration and they are all enjoying their soup at a leisurely pace, the fools. On the opposite side of the fire Bofur is telling Gandalf of Sandy's little escapade, which the wizard is finding a little too amusing.

I finish my dinner in record timing and sit back with a sigh. I've never been a fan of soups, and by the end of this journey I will absolutely loathe them.

After receiving various pieces of everyone else's dinner including, to my surprise, Thorin's, Mal comes and sits back down with me – still damp. I scratch behind his ears with one hand and dig around in my bag with the other, pulling out my book.

There's plenty of light from the fire to see by so I settle down, ready to become engrossed in a world of fantasy! Well, a different world of fantasy, I suppose, since I'm already pretty engrossed in this one.

I get three pages in before someone sits down beside me. It's Ori, and he has a shy but curious look on his face. I raise my eyes to him over my book, an eyebrow arched.

"Ori?" I question.

He flusters for a seconds, his own book clutched tight against his chest. I wait as patiently as I can and after a few more moments of fidgeting he finally speaks.

"That's an interesting looking book." He says quietly, eyes twinkling. I suppose it is a bit of a strange looking book compared to his with it's brightly coloured cover. Evidently paperbacks aren't very popular in this world since Ori's book is a large leather bound tome.

"Uh, I guess it's a little different to yours," I say with a smile. Oh dear, how am I going to explain this one? "What's yours about?"

"I'm documenting our journey," Ori tells me excitedly, pulling open his book so that I could see the first few pages. "There's not much in here yet, but I hope to fill the whole journal."

"Wow, that's a fairly large undertaking," I say, leaning forward to see his work. I frown. He is writing in squiggles. "Ori, what kind of language is that?"

He looks at me as if I'm an idiot.

"These are dwarfish runes." Ori tells me, running a finger over the page. Of course they are, how silly of me!

"Can't you read it?" Kili asks, dropping down on my left with his brother beside him.

All I wanted to do was read my book, is that too much to ask?

I look up to see the brothers staring at me expectantly, and they aren't the only ones paying attention to what I had foolishly considered a private conversation between Ori and myself. My eyes seek out Gandalf who's wonderfully blue eyes are watching me from across the fire, an amused smile on his face.

"No, no I can't read it." I say after a moment when the wizard doesn't jump to my aid, there is some muttering.

"But you're a dwarf!" Fili says with a laugh. "How can you not read runes?"

"How have you lasted all these years without knowing runes? Even the youngest of our kind are taught to read and write runes," Thorin's voice rumbles from beside Gandalf. I pout, still frowning. "Next you'll be telling us you can't speak Khuzdul."

Oh dear.

I obviously remain silent for far too long because Kili lets out a howl of laughter, followed by Fili's barely suppressed laughter.

"You can't?" The younger heir wheezes, clutching his sides.

"Is this true?" Thorin questions. I can't tell if he is amused or horrified by this information.

Why is this happening to me?

"No, I can't speak Khuzdul." I confirm. I'm not even sure I pronounced it right.

"Are you sure she's even a dwarf?" Dwalin questions with a snort.

"I am starting to wonder." Thorin replies flatly.

"I can speak other languages you know!" I snap. And instantly regret it. My knowledge of other languages is GCSE level French and broken Japanese from badly subbed anime.

"Oh?" Thorin says, leaning forwards slightly. "And what might they be?"

"Uh... F-french," I mumble. Shit. Shit. Shit.

"French?" The exiled king asks, his thick eyebrows drawing down into a frown. "What is French?"

"It's uh, it's a language spoken near my homeland." I supply vaguely, hoping that this will be enough to appease his grumpiness. It is not.

"Speak it." He commands.

I'm completely screwed at this point because every single pieces of French I have ever known, bar one phrase, has deserted me. It's not like they're even going to know what it means, but it's just not the kind of thing I'd planned on saying to bloody Thorin Oakenshield – UGH!

"Voulez vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?" I spurt out, wincing as I speak. This is followed by various random words like 'Poisson' and 'Chien'. All in all this is one of my most embarrassing moments in Middle-Earth – on any earth actually.

"What's that mean?" Ori asks, his eyes wide, eager.

"Uhm, it's hard to translate," I say, waving my hand in a dismissive gesture. "Maybe another time?"

"Oh, okay," He says, looking crestfallen. "Perhaps you'd like to hear some Khuzdul?"

"What? Oh, yeah, I'd love to!" I say. If I'm going to be a dwarf for much longer I suppose I should start acting like one – and if that means joining in on their secret sleepover language I guess that's what I'll have to do.

"I can teach you!" Kili declares, edging forwards so that he is now sitting in front of me, almost on top of a disgruntled Malik.

"No you can't!" Fili counters with a scoff. "You've barely learnt it yourself!"

"I think I'll just let Ori help me out with this one," I say with a smile to the two of them, fending off the upcoming argument. "Thanks for the offer though."

They both huff and sit back slightly, sulking. Ori starts to explain the basic principles behind the dwarven language, quietly, so's not to be heard by Bilbo and Gandalf. This is rule one. The first rule of Khuzdul is that you don't talk about Khuzdul! He tells me it is one of the dwarfs most well kept secrets, and is rarely spoken in front of outsiders.

And so begins my first lesson in becoming a real dwarf.

So there you go! Hope you liked it, please review and stay tuned for the next chapter!