Nori glances over to the old, decrepit cottage in the middle of the clearing where they are to spend the night. Gandalf and Thorin stand under its partially existent roof, arguing about something.
Catching the words "The Hidden Valley", he sighs. So Gandalf is trying to convince Thorin to seek refuge with the Elves. That will never work. And he agrees - they need no help from them.
He sits down next to Ori, who is writing in his journal. His younger brother looks up with a quick smile, then continues writing. Nori gazes fondly at him, so concentrated on the pages in which he records their journey. It has, so far, been uneventful, but that is probably a good thing, he reflects, and also not likely to last long.
Presently Gandalf storms off. Ori watches him go, then turns to Nori with a worried expression. Nori shrugs. He'll probably come back… just hopefully before some sort of danger strikes.
Unfortunately they have no such luck. Later that night, Kíli and Fíli burst into the clearing and announce, distraught, that Bilbo has been captured by trolls.
As the dwarves seize their weapons and follow the lads towards the trolls' encampment, Nori notices that Lys is still unarmed.
"Lys," he says, clapping a hand on her shoulder. She whirls around and pushes his arm to the side with surprising strength before relaxing slightly. Real fighter's reflexes, he thinks, eyebrows rising slightly.
He pulls out the small knife he carries along with his sword and holds it out.
"Take this. You're going to need it."
Her reaction to the knife is equally surprising - she pulls away just a few inches as if frightened by it, eyes widening almost imperceptibly for a fraction of a second, then her impassive mask returns. She glances towards the others, all armed, and towards the three massive silhouettes visible through the trees, then warily accepts.
They form their plan of attack.
Kíli ventures into the clearing, sword in hand, and demands Bilbo's release. The trolls look at each other, bemused, then launch Bilbo towards Kíli, knocking him down.
The dwarves charge.
The clearing around the fire becomes a confusion of shouting dwarves, swinging their swords and axes, and trolls staggering around, bellowing with rage and pain and trying to catch them.
Nori catches a glimpse of Bilbo making his way through the chaos to rescue the ponies. Ori is making rapid but largely ineffective use of his slingshot. Lys is using the knife in a most inventive fashion - she sinks it into the back of a troll, then uses it to pull herself up so as to sit astride its shoulders. She removes the knife from the now bucking and writhing creature and is about to stab its eye when it plucks her off and hurls her across the clearing. A stone whizzes through the air and flies straight into its eye and it stumbles, roaring and clutching the injured orb as blood trickles down its back. Good old Ori.
Lys seems unharmed and rushes back into the midst of the fight, still gripping the knife. Choosing another troll, she advances unnoticed and suddenly slashes at the inside of its thick wrist, creating in one swift motion a long gash which releases a large amount of blood.
Nori decides to try this with his sword - but just at that moment the fighting around him ceases. Two of the trolls have recaptured Bilbo and are holding him as if to tear him apart, demanding that the dwarves put down their weapons.
After a few moments of Bilbo staring helplessly at them, Thorin angrily jams his sword into its sheath, and the rest of the Company do the same.
What follows is a very unpleasant night. Nori rotates slowly on the large spit that most of them are tied to, listening to the trolls argue about how to cook them, and thinks that they will probably be roasted to death before a decision is made.
He wishes he could exchange a word or a glance with his brothers, but they are invisible from his position. He knows Ori must be panicking, not as calm in the face of death as the others are. If only he could reassure him… but even if communication were enabled, that would not be possible. They are clearly doomed.
The spit completes another rotation and the troll that Lys injured comes into his view. It has a filthy rag bound around its wrist, stained with dark blood. That was some nice work she did with the knife.
The trolls' voices rise once more in dispute.
"Let's just hurry up and cook 'em!" growls one. "I don't fancy being turned to stone."
Nori's eyes widen. Of course! Trolls turn to stone in sunlight! He wonders how far off dawn is. Perhaps if they could delay being eaten until then… but how?
It seems the same idea has occured to Bilbo, for he suddenly exclaims, "Wait! You're making a terrible mistake!" He proceeds to instruct the trolls to skin the dwarves first, and Nori groans. Not that he could have thought of something better, but all the same…
One of the trolls is about to demonstrate with Bombur that dwarves are perfectly edible with their skins, when Bilbo tells them that Bombur is infected. In fact, he continues, they all have parasites. This provides for a lengthy discussion, and Nori almost dares to hope that they might be saved, but in the end the seemingly predominant troll sees through Bilbo's plan.
"You think we don't know what you're playing at?" He turns to his two companions. "He's trying to trick us!"
Bilbo stares at them, petrified. The game is up.
Suddenly a voice echoes through the forest.
"The dawn take you all!"
The trolls turn and gaze, bewildered, at a figure standing on a large rock, silhouetted against the rising sun - the rising sun! It is dawn, and Gandalf has come back!
He smites the rock with his staff and it breaks in two, allowing the light of the sun to stream through the fissure and onto the trolls.
With howls of dismay they cover their faces, but it is too late. A stony covering travels across their skin until with one final crack and jerk they stand still, frozen in place like grotesque statues, never to move again.
After freeing each other, the dwarves go in search of the trolls' cave, hoping to find some weapons and supplies. As anticipated, it is nearby - a wide, sloping tunnel which leads to an underground chamber infested with flies, cobwebs and a horrible stench. They all file in after Gandalf - except for Lys, who hangs back at the entrance.
Nori approaches her with his knife, which he has recovered from the trolls.
"You'd better keep this in case we meet any more nasty things." He glances towards the cave. "Unless you can find your own weapon in there."
Her eyes dart to the dark tunnel mouth and she shakes her head, then fixes her gaze on the knife in Nori's outstretched palm, nostrils flaring slightly as if she suddenly lacks air. She stares at it for a few long seconds, and Nori frowns at the tenseness which pervades her body and positively radiates from her. She takes the knife without meeting his eyes, and he turns to join the others, wondering at her strange behaviour. Perhaps simply an aversion to weapons?, he thinks, but she had no trouble using the knife and in fact seemed quite experienced. He dismisses the thought. After all, she is from a different universe. Mysteries will always remain.
Their foraging of the cave proves successful. There are a great deal of weapons and even a small chest of gold coins. Thorin reluctantly takes an elven-made sword, and Kíli finds a few extra arrows.
Ascending back into the daylight, they are about to set off on their way when the sound of something rapidly approaching reaches their ears. They draw together and brandish their new-found weapons. Lys finds herself in the middle of a circle of dwarves, along with Bilbo, who is nervously holding the small blade presented to him by Gandalf just a few moments ago.
There is a particularly loud crash and something hurtles through the bushes in front of them, accompanied by a hoarse cry of, "Thieves! Fire! Murder!". It stops abruptly and they are faced with a sort of sleigh pulled by a team of rabbits, on which rides a peculiar, disheveled figure dressed in brownish tones, with a wild, panicked look in his eyes.
"Radagast!" exclaims Gandalf. "Radagast the Brown." His tone is one of familiarity, and Bilbo recalls him telling them about the other wizards, during that awful rainy spell.
Radagast announces that he had been searching for Gandalf, and the two wizards withdraw and begin to talk in low, earnest voices. Bilbo casts several worried glances in their direction. Gandalf had seemed rather concerned about Radagast being there, and Radagast, well, he had certainly seemed very… perturbed. He cannot make out what they are saying, however, so he simply waits in the uneasy silence that surrounds them.
It is broken by a faint, ragged howl, and Bilbo looks around in alarm.
"Was that a wolf? Are there wolves here?"
Another howl echoes through the trees, this time louder.
"No," replies Bofur, frowning as he tries to figure out which direction the howls are from, "That is not a wolf."
Bilbo is still considering whether this is good or bad when a harsh growl rings out from just behind the group and they spin around to face a huge, hideous creature that springs towards them - and falls dead at Thorin's feet. Another one follows it and is pierced mid-leap by an arrow from Kíli.
"Wargs," says Thorin grimly, pulling his sword out of the carcas. "There must be an orc pack nearby."
"Orc pack?!" echoes Bilbo incredulously, heart pounding. Not only are they surrounded by creatures far worse than wolves, but now he is being told that those awful orc things travel in packs?
Ori declares panickedly that the ponies have bolted, and a sense of helplessness washes over Bilbo. Have they escaped from the trolls just to be torn apart by these monsters?
Everyone turns to Radagast in surprise when he offers to distract the wargs by getting them to chase him.
"These are Gundabad wargs," says Gandalf. "They will outrun you."
"And these," replies Radagast, "Are Rustabel rabbits. I'd like to see them try."
Without another word, he jumps onto his sleigh and takes off. The dwarves also make for the edge of the forest, but in a different direction. The trees begin to thin and shortly they emerge onto the wide, grassy plain, dotted with large rocks and stunted trees, which they must cross. The howling of the wargs draws near and Radagast shoots across the plain some distance in front of them at a remarkable speed. His plan seems to be working so far. Led by Gandalf, they run across the plain, trying to keep close to the boulders and out of sight of the wargs, whose numbers are ever increasing. About halfway across they halt under the outcropping of a large clump of rock as Radagast thunders past again. It seems that most of the wargs have been drawn away… Suddenly there is a snarling just above them. A warg - mounted by an orc, judging by the two sets of breathing - is prowling back and forth on top of the rock. Thorin looks at Kíli and gives a slow nod. Kíli silently draws an arrow from his sheath, fits it to his bow, and then jumps out, whirls around and releases it. The arrow is quickly followed by another, slaying both the warg and its rider.
The agonized howls of the warg have captured the attention of the other orcs, and all across the plain the dwarves perceive the beasts galloping towards them. They turn so as to face all directions, once more instinctively forming a circle around the more poorly armed members of the Company, and prepare to fend off the attack.
They do this successfully at first, but more and more wargs surround them and their circle grows ever tighter.
Lys suddenly runs out into the open and a warg immediately barrels towards her. "Lys!" roars Thorin, unable to intervene as he is currently fighting off two of the beasts. Has she gone mad? She is only armed with a small knife. He sees from the corner of his eye that she remains immobile until it is inches away from her, then drops to the ground. The creature on top of her suddenly crumples, and she emerges with dark bloodstains on her arms and face. The warg flops onto its side, revealing a long slit down its torso. Thorin successfully kills the two wargs he was fighting and is faced with another onslaught. They seem to be endless.
The situation begins to look hopeless when Gandalf, who has momentarily disappeared, shouts for them to follow him. With one last sword-blow and arrow they take off again and join the wizard behind another rock.
"Where are you leading us?" growls Thorin. Gandalf, pointing the Company in the direction they must go, does not answer. Thorin glances back at their pursuers, then brings up the rear of the pack of fleeing dwarves. Their only options right now are to trust the wizard or to stand their ground against the orcs - and the latter does not seem very promising.
They come to an opening in the ground - the mouth of a tunnel. One by one the dwarves jump down it as Thorin defends the entrance with broad sword-strokes.
Lys, with her long legs, has been running near the front of the pack, but she halts while the others enter the tunnel. Gloín grabs her wrist as he jumps down with a gruff "Come on, then", dragging her down with him.
The underground passage is fairly small, and as the breathing of the dwarves slows down to normal after the chase, Lys's gradually becomes quicker, her pale eyes darting around, to the knife in her hands, to the entrance from which pours both light and the sounds of continued fighting.
The wargs are swarming around the opening, and time seems to be running out. Fíli tumbles into the cave, followed by Kíli, and then finally Thorin. All of the Company is in the cave, but the wargs are trying to enter as well. Thorin raises his sword, ready to fend them off once more.
They hear the sound of hoofbeats drumming over the ground above them, then the twang of a bowstring rings out and a warg pierced with an arrow falls down the tunnel and rolls at their feet. The rest of the wargs flee, and the hoofbeats fade away as quickly as they have come.
Thorin pulls out the arrow and examines it. "Elves," he says, his voice heavy with disgust. The dwarves look around at each other. Saved by elves, indeed! This is a blow to their honour.
"I can't see where the tunnel leads," calls Bofur, who was the first to enter and has peered around the corner. "Do we follow it?"
"Of course," is the collective answer, so they begin to walk in single file through the dim passage.
Gloín can hear Lys breathing heavily behind him. He recalls that she hadn't entered the trolls' lair, either, and wonders why being underground seems to bother her so much. He feels much safer here than out on the empty plain, exposed to their attackers. Humans are decidedly strange.
After several twists and turns, a faint, steady sound becomes audible. A few more bends and it is discernible as the sound of running water. The floor and walls of the tunnel grow slightly damp as it grows louder, and suddenly they turn a corner and are left speechless at the sight that meets their eyes.
Stony cliffs painted with lush green trees fall sharply into a deep valley. Down the cliffs run countless waterfalls, large and small, filling the air with mist that glows golden in the sunlight. A bridge arcs gracefully across the valley, leading to an almost ethereal-looking city of arches and spires and pointed rooves, infinitely delicate stonework forming a place of surreal beauty.
"Rivendell," whispers Bilbo in an awed voice. But Thorin scowls, and so does Gloín. So Gandalf has led them to the elves after all. As if they will help them - as if they need their help! He looks around at the others. Some of the younger dwarves seem to be struggling between admiration of the beauty of Rivendell and the loathing they are expected to have of its inhabitants. Lys is studying it, eyes slightly narrowed in the bright sunlight, but as always bears no expression.
They descend into the valley and cross the narrow bridge, slightly dizzied by the water rushing, white and foaming, beneath their feet. As they enter the courtyard, passing two tall, serene statues, an elf emerges from the large doorway in front of them. Gandalf addresses him as Lindir, and asks for Elrond.
"Lord Elrond is not here," replies Lindir, but at that moment the clatter of hooves draws swiftly near and a company of riders, Elrond at its head, files into the courtyard and surrounds the dwarves, weaving a tight circle about them. The elves observe them warily from atop their horses, and the dwarves glare back up at them, shuffling uneasily with their hands on the hilts of their weapons.
Elrond dismounts and greets Gandalf warmly. It turns out that he had been hunting a pack of orcs - the same one that had been hunting the dwarves. Gloín lets out a huff of breath. So they are doubly in their debt, for aid that they did not need.
He cannot help, however, feeling grateful for the food and lodging they receive, observing with some satisfaction as Lys eats the first significant meal since the beginning of their journey, seemingly enjoying the strange elvish food which consists mainly of leaves and berries and roots.
Despite their antagonism towards the elves, the dwarves relax and are soon laughing and talking loudly, relieved that nothing more has come of their misadventures so far than perhaps a few broken ribs and bloody scratches. Soon they will be on their way again, one step closer to Erebor.