Y'know, I like you guys. You're cute. So I'm going to give you a chapter on Monday because I have some free time.

Thank you for being you. Really.

Heart sign.

In the end, Cheyanne took a week off of work. She would go home and not worry about anything else until she'd finished her dreams.

Gary had walked her and Jon too the door. He'd given her a small nod of encouragement before disappearing back into Dreamer's.

Jon walked with her back to her apartment, and she gave him her spare key. "As a precaution."

Jon took it and stared at her a long moment. "Are you going to be okay?" he asked her.

Cheyanne lifted one shoulder. "I'm gonna try." She entered her apartment and shut the front door, locking it. For a brief second, she leaned against it to calm herself down. She had never been this nervous to go into the dream before, but she hadn't know it was real those other times.

Taking a deep breath, she leaned away from the door and walked around the apartment to make sure all electronics were off. She then changed into comfortable but sensible clothing: jeans, a plain white shirt, and her leather jacket. She pulled on a pair of boots as well and yanked out the plug on her alarm clock. It wouldn't do her any good where she was going.

With a final sigh, she flopped down on the bed, swallowed two sleeping pills, and was asleep in an instant.

Instead of waking in the cave she'd fallen asleep in, Chey was instead under the overlook on the ledge somewhere in the Weathered Hills. She was sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall. Most of the dwarves around her were fast asleep.

Fili and Kili were the only exceptions; probably on watch. Gandalf was also awake, gazing out over the dark valley as clouds poofed up out of his pipe.

Cheyanne glanced towards the sound of a pony whinny. She saw Bilbo scurrying back from where the horses were tied up. He almost passed her without seeing her, but stopped and slowly turned his head in her direction. He jumped up when he saw her.

"You scared me!" he whispered, putting a hand over his heart.

"I didn't tell you to look over here," she whispered back.

Bilbo sighed and was about to sit down on his vacant mat when suddenly a scream came from somewhere in the darkness. They both turned towards the valley, and Cheyanne saw Bilbo's throat clench in fear.

He glanced down at Cheyanne. "What was that?"

Kili responded for her. "Orcs." Bilbo turned to the brothers as another scream came to them.

Cheyanne noticed Thorin jerk awake at the word. "Orcs?" Bilbo whispered hoarsely.

"Throat-cutters," Fili said in disgust. "There'll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with 'em."

"They strike in the wee small hours, when everyone is asleep," Kili went on, gazing up at Bilbo. "Very quiet and quick; no noise other than screams and lots of blood."

Cheyanne saw Bilbo flinch. Fili and Kili tried to keep straight faces, but they broke down into chuckles.

Thorin rose from his sleeping mat and stalked over to them. "You think that's funny?" he asked his nephews, who had stopped laughing at their uncle's approach. "You think a night raid by Orcs is something to laugh at?"

The younger dwarves turned their gazes to the ground. "We didn't mean anything by it," Kili said quietly, embarrassed.

"No, you didn't," Thorin agreed. "You know nothing of the world." He walked past them to the edge of the ledge and gazed out over the valley.

The other dwarves had also stirred at the noises, and Balin casted a glance towards Thorin before he said, "Don't mind him, laddie. Thorin has more cause than most to hate Orcs."

Kili nodded in understanding, but Cheyanne could tell he still felt bad.

"Why?" Bilbo asked cautiously.

Balin turned to look at him. "After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to take back the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. Our enemy had gotten there first."

Cheyanne glanced over at Thorin as Balin settled against the wall for his tale. "Moria had been taken by legions of Orcs led by the vilest of all: Azog, the Defiler. The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin, and he began by beheading the king."

Cheyanne saw Thorin bow his head at the memory. She could see the flashback from the movie in her head; Azog tossed Thror's decapitated head on the ground and it rolled to a younger Thorin's feet. The young prince let out a cry of rage and sadness.

"Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing; dead or captured, we didn't know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us," Balin continued. He looked towards Thorin as well. "That's when I saw him. The young dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc. He stood alone against the Orc, his armor wrent, wielding nothing but an oaken tree branch as a shield."

Cheyanne saw the understanding flicker across Bilbo's face. "What happened then?" the hobbit asked, enthralled.

Balin smiled. "What do you think happened?"

"He cut off the Pale Orc's arm," Fili said before Bilbo could reply.

Balin gave the younger dwarf a small glare, but didn't say anything. "Yes, Thorin managed to cut off Azog's arm, and the mass of Orcs weakened at the defeat of their leader. Azog, the Defiler learned that day the line of Durin would not so easily be broken. Our forces rallied and drove the Orcs the back. We had defeated our enemy."

This was the point in the tale when Balin frowned and his tone changed. "But there was no feast that night, no songs sung. The death count was beyond mere grief. Only we few survived." Balin again looked towards Thorin, and Cheyanne saw the other dwarves slowly rise to stand as well. "I saw Thorin again, and he truly looked like a leader. I knew then that there was one I could follow. There was someone I could call king."

Thorin turned slowly and looked at the other dwarves, who were all looking at him in awe. He walks by all of them towards the fire.

Bilbo watched him go and turned to Balin. "A-and the Pale Orc? What happened to him?"

It was Thorin that responded. "That scum slunk back into the hole he came from. That filth died of his wounds long ago."

Cheyanne snorted. "If only that were true," she muttered under her breath.

The dwarves all turned to look at her. Gandalf furrowed his brow, and Thorin walked over to her, frowning. "What are you speaking of?" he growled lowly.

Cheyanne glared up at him. "It's not like you would believe me even if I told you. What could I possibly know about the Orcs?" she mocked, crossing her arms.

Thorin narrowed his eyes dangerously, but Dwalin said, "Thorin." The dwarf's jaw clenched, and he looked at Cheyanne.

"Tell me."

Cheyanne looked around at the others. Even if Thorin didn't believe her, they would. She looked back up at Thorin. "Fine, but only because you asked so nicely." Thorin clenched his fist as she stood and gazed at all of them. "The Pale Orc is not dead. He's been tracking you this whole time, and, this is the best part, his lackeys have found you and are running to tell their leader right now."

Thorin glared at her. "You're lying. I took his arm myself; he was in no state to return to full health."

"Well, his arm has become his sword, and in the other hand he carries different weapons depending on how he wants to kill someone," Cheyanne said calmly. "Believe it or not, that's your choice. I'm only telling you the truth."

"Thorin?" Ori asked quietly.

He studied Cheyanne for a long time. He then turned to the company. "There is no reason to worry about Orcs. No one knows about our journey aside from us, and no one is looking for us."

"Shouldn't we at least take some heed to Cheyanne's warning?" Nori asked his brother. Cheyanne expected Dori to scoff, but he instead looked around at the others with a nod.

Bofur turned to Thorin. "Maybe I'm stepping out of place, but I believe her," he said. "We should be careful."

"We are," replied Thorin. "There are no Orcs for us to worry about, so don't. We are fine."

Cheyanne rolled her eyes, which Thorin didn't see. Balin did, however, and the old dwarf bowed his head to her in apology. She shrugged as a response and sat back down on her mat. It was Thorin's fault when the Orcs finally cornered them in the woods outside the troll hoard.

Bilbo ducked by the dwarves and sat down next to her. "Really?"

She nodded, and Bilbo gazed worriedly up at Thorin. He didn't return the hobbit's look, and instead turned to face the others.

"As I said, we will not worry about it," he repeated firmly. "Now, we still have a few hours before the sun rises, and I suggest you all get as much sleep as you can. We have a long day of traveling ahead of us."

That was the end of it, it seemed, because Thorin returned to his own sleeping mat and settled down on it. The other dwarves murmured to one another as they did the same, and soon, the whole area was filled with whispering dwarves.

Cheyanne rolled onto her back. There was no swaying Thorin when he made up his mind. She should have known that about his character by now. All the same, she wanted to try and change whatever she could.

That was going to very difficult when the mind she needed to change the most was as stubborn as a mule.

The next day was indeed a long day of traveling, as was the next. Her mind didn't wake up in Texas after she fell asleep in Middle-Earth, so Cheyanne was awoken at the butt-crack of dawn on both days by Bilbo.

After they had packed up camp, they mounted and were on their way out of the Weathered Hills. Many of the dwarves rode along Cheyanne and Bilbo as time passed, asking questions about the Orcs that were following them.

The most worried seemed to be Gloin, which surprised her. He rode up between every dwarf that came to her, nervous. "Are they going to catch us?"

"Yes."

"When are they going to catch us?"

"Soon, but they don't do much more than frighten us."

"Are we very much in danger?"

That question she left unanswered.

The first night of travel was spent in silence. The dwarves either didn't want to talk about Cheyanne's warning in fear Thorin would be angry, or they had simply decided it was useless to talk about it at all. Cheyanne was aware of the looks they gave her, however, and she was upset that there wasn't more she could do to help them.

She wasn't annoyed with the questions by the end of the second day of travel when Thorin called for a halt outside an abandoned farmhouse; she was annoyed that answering them wasn't going to do anything. As long as Thorin was being stubborn, the outcome would remain the same. And it seemed none of the dwarves were willing to try and talk to Thorin about the Orc problem.

Balin didn't let her attempt go unappreciated, however. The old dwarf approached her as she helped Bilbo off of Myrtle. "I'm sorry about Thorin," he apologized.

"Don't say sorry for him, Balin," Cheyanne replied. "He has a tongue, and it's working perfectly well, apparently. He can apologize to me himself."

Balin dipped his head in understanding. "I just wanted to let you know that I appreciate the warning, and if Thorin was willing to hear me, I would try to convince him."

Cheyanne gave him a grin. "Ah, but he isn't willing, is he?" Balin hesitated briefly before slowly shaking his head. She shrugged. "Well then, there's nothing to be done about it, is there?"

"We will camp here for the night." Thorin's order came from near the ruined farmhouse, and all the dwarves turned to look at him. Cheyanne merely rolled her gaze up to the sky. "Fili, Kili, look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them."

Cheyanne glanced at Gandalf, who was gazing into the ruins. He didn't look happy about the prospect of staying there that night. She also wondered if he was still sore over the comment Bilbo had made yesterday afternoon about Gandalf not being that great of a wizard as they were getting rained on.

"A farmer and his family used to live here," she heard the wizard murmur to himself.

"Oin, Gloin," Thorin said.

"Aye?" Gloin queried, looking up from his tobacco pouch.

"Get a fire going," ordered Thorin.

"Right you are," Gloin replied, shoving the pouch back into his pocket. He tugged on his brother's ear horn and gestured to a clear space on the ground.

"I think it would be wiser to move on," said Gandalf, turning away from the ruins at last. He looked at Thorin. "We could make for the Hidden Valley."

Cheyanne saw the cold look Thorin gave him. "I have told you already that I will not go near that place," he growled.

"And why not?" Gandalf queried. "The Elves could help us. We could get food, rest, advice." The last word was said with some emphasis. "Since you seem to be refusing other advice."

Thorin flinched at that, and Cheyanne allowed herself a haughty grin. "I do not need anyone's advice," the dwarf said darkly.

"We have a map that we cannot read, and the person who can read it you won't let touch it. Lord Elrond could help us," Gandalf insisted.

Thorin's eyes narrowed. "Help? A dragon attacks Erebor, what help came from the Elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrated our sacred halls, and the Elves looked on and did nothing. You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather and betrayed my father."

Gandalf glanced up at the sky briefly. "You are neither of them," he said calmly. "I did not give you that map and key for you to hold on to the past."

Thorin eyed the wizard coolly. "I did not know that they were yours to keep."

Gandalf let out a humph and stomped away from the dwarf, past Cheyanne and Bilbo. Bilbo trailed after him, asking, "Gandalf, where are you going?"

"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense," Gandalf replied hotly.

"Who's that?" Bilbo queried.

"Myself, Mister Baggins!" Gandalf shouted. As he walked off, Cheyanne heard him mutter, "I've had enough of dwarves for one day."

Thorin completely ignored the fact that they had lost their wizard and turned to Bombur. "Come on, Bombur. We're hungry." The two of them turned to the fire that Oin and Gloin had gotten started.

Bilbo looked first at Cheyanne, and then at Balin. "Is Gandalf going to come back?"

Balin glanced at Cheyanne, who nodded to the hobbit. "He'll come back, don't you worry."

Bilbo looked slightly more reassured at her words, but all the same walked away a little jumpy. Cheyanne then turned to Balin. "He should come back, anyway."

The old dwarf shook his head and walked off. Cheyanne sighed and leaned against Myrtle's side for a brief moment. "This isn't fun, girl," she said to the pony.

Myrtle whickered in response.

"Cheyanne, will you bring her over her for me, please?" Fili called from near the other ponies.

Cheyanne took Myrtle's reins and lead her over to him. Fili gave her a grateful smile and took the lead from her. "Thank you," he said. He then shot a glance towards his uncle. "Listen, I'm sorry about him."

"Oh, how many apologies am I going to get for Thorin without one actually coming from him?" Cheyanne queried in fake annoyance.

"I really am, though," Fili insisted. "I know you won't get one from him, and Thorin's known to be a little untrustworthy."

"Stubborn is the word that come to my mind, but we can use untrustworthy if you like," responded Cheyanne. She winked at the dwarf and strolled away, aware of his eyes watching her as she walked off.

She settled down next to Dwalin on the opposite side of the fire from the ponies. Dwalin gave her a sideways look. Cheyanne held up her hand. "Don't you try apologizing, too. I will end you."

Dwalin laughed. "I wasn't going to," he assured her. "I was just going to ask why you keep trying to help Thorin when it's clear he isn't going to take it."

Cheyanne gazed into the fire. "You know, I don't get it, either. I mean, he's being so… Rude, yes? Why would I want to help him in his quest? I'm not gaining anything from it, and, as you said, it's apparent he doesn't want me to help. Why am I here, then?"

"Isn't that a question for me to ask you?" Dwalin asked her.

"I don't know," replied Cheyanne. "I don't really know the answer."

Night fell quickly, and soon it was very dark. The only light came from the fire that they were all seated around, enjoying the soup Bombur had prepared. Bilbo kept glancing towards the space where Gandalf had disappeared.

"He's been a long time," he finally said.

Bofur looked up from the pot he was ladling soup out of. "Who?"

"Gandalf," Bilbo replied, looking towards the darkness again.

"Oh, Bilbo, he's a wizard. He does as he chooses." He finishes ladling the soup. "Here, do us a favor," he said, passing the two bowls he was holding to Bilbo, "and take this to the lads."

Bilbo walked off to where Kili and Fili were with the ponies. Cheyanne frowned, knowing exactly what was going to go on once he got there.

Dwalin noticed her expression. "What's that look for?" he queried.

Cheyanne shook her head. "I-I don't know," she said, feigning uncertainty, "but I don't like it." She set down her bowl and started to go after Bilbo.

"And where are you going?" Thorin asked her.

She stopped and stiffly looked over her shoulder at him. "To find out what's going on," she said coldly. "If I'm not back in ten minutes, there's something wrong." She started to walk again, and then paused, tossing, "Be sure to bring your weapons," over her shoulder before she continued.

She ran into Fili and Kili as they were hurrying back up the path towards the ponies. She held out her hands to stop them. "What is going on?" she hissed under her breath.

"Trolls," Kili replied breathlessly. "They took four of the ponies, and Bilbo's trying to get them back. We're going for help."

Cheyanne let out a fake sigh of exasperation. "Hurry up, then," she said, stepping aside. The dwarves continued along, and Cheyanne cautiously walked the way they had come from, being careful to keep silent.

She crouched down as she neared the trolls' campsite and gazed up over a fallen log at them.

One of the trolls was complaining. "I'm starving! Are we 'aving horse tonight or what?"

Another troll pointed a giant ladle at him. "Shut your cakehole. You'll eat what I give ya."

They were giant, ugly things, Cheyanne saw, exactly like in the movie. They wore nothing but ragged brown loincloths, and the third troll reaches around behind him and withdraws a huge handkerchief. At his movement, Cheyanne spots Bilbo standing behind him near where the ponies are being kept.

He reached for the giant knife on the troll's belt, and Cheyanne sucked in a breath as she watched.

"How come 'e's the cook? Everything tastes the same," the first troll complained. "Everything tastes like chicken."

"Except the chicken," the one with the handkerchief added.

"That tastes like fish!" finished the first.

"I'm just saying, a little appreciation would be nice," the cook exclaimed. He stirred the mixture in the pot as Cheyanne watched Bilbo once again reach for the knife. "'Thank you very much, Bert.' 'Lovely stew, Bert.' How hard is that?" Bert sips some stew from the ladle. "Hmm, it needs a sprinkle of squirrel dung."

Cheyanne saw Bilbo hesitate at that, and miss his opportunity as the troll he was attempting to steal from picked up a mug. Bert glares at him from over the giant fire.

"Hey, that's my grog!" he shouted.

"Sorry, sorry," the third troll muttered. Bert hit him with the ladle all the same, and he falls over, almost crushing Bilbo, but the hobbit moved out of the way just in time. Cheyanne waved an arm to try to get his attention, but had to put it back down at Bert turned in her direction.

He dipped the ladle in the soup and tasted it. "Perfectly balanced, that is." He held the ladle out to the first troll, who gulped it down. "Wrap your-" Cheyanne wrinkled her nose at the word. "- around that, mate. Eh? Good, right? Heheheh, that's why I'm the cook."

The third troll had gotten up at this point, and Cheyanne held her breath as Bilbo reaches for the knife again. The troll stood however, and scratched his rear end. Bilbo wrinkles his nose in disgust, and Cheyanne stuck out her tongue.

The first dwarf grumbled something to himself as the third reached for his handkerchief. Cheyanne gulped as he grabbed Bilbo instead and sneezed on him. Bilbo noticed Cheyanne just before, and she could merely give him a look of desperation as he is covered in snot.

"Argh!" the troll shouted. "Blimey! Bert! Look what's come out of me 'ooter! It's got arms and legs and everything."

The other two trolls gathered around him and gazed down at Bilbo, blocking Cheyanne's view. "What is it?" the first one asked.

"I don't know, but I don't like the way it wriggles around," the third replied. Bilbo falls to the ground in front of them, and Cheyanne watched as he stood, covered in snot and leaves.

"What are you, then?" queried the first. "An oversized squirrel?"

"I'm a burglar- uh, hobbit," Bilbo stammered. Cheyanne slammed a hand against her forehead.

"A burgla-hobbit?" the third exclaimed in confusion.

"Can we cook 'im?" the first questioned greedily.

"We can try!" the third responded. He attempted to grab Bilbo, but the hobbit dodged. Bert cornered him, however, and held out his hand.

"He ain't gonna be much when he's skinned and boned," he said, looking down at Bilbo.

"Maybe there's more of 'em," the first troll suggested, looking around. Cheyanne ducked as his gaze passed over her hiding spot. "Might be enough for a pie."

"Grab him!" Bert ordered as Bilbo dodged again.

"It's too quick!" the third cried, missing him by a hair.

Bilbo ran around in circles, dodging this way and that. Cheyanne risked throwing a rock at the first one, but missed. Bert hit the third in the face with his ladle while he's attempting to catch Bilbo, who is picked up the by the first.

"Gotcha!" he said, holding Bilbo up by his legs. "Now tell me, are there any more of you little fellas 'iding where you shouldn't?"

Bilbo, thankfully, didn't look in her direction. "Nope."

"He's lying," the third said, rubbing his nose.

"No I'm not!" Bilbo exclaimed.

"Hold his toes over the fire," suggested the third, ignoring him. "Make him squeal."

Cheyanne decided then that it was time to go out there and do something. She was about to step into the camp when Kili ran out of bushes nearby and cut the third troll on the leg. He howled and fell over again.

"Drop him!" Kili ordered, pulling an arrow back on his bowstring.

"You what?" the first one asked, frowning.

"I said, drop him," Kili shouted.

The first one shrugged and threw Bilbo at Kili. The two of them flew backwards, over the log where Cheyanne was hiding just as the other company members ran out of the bushes, weapons flashing in the firelight. Cheyanne helped Kili and Bilbo up before running into the fight.

She followed Bilbo through the slashing and hacking and hammering dwarves to where the third troll's knife had fallen, and helped him cut the ropes containing the ponies. All four ran free, and Cheyanne ducked out of the way just in time to avoid the first troll's hand. She grabbed Bilbo's in an attempt to help him, but was merely shaken off.

She fell to the group with an oomph, drawing the attention of the dwarves.

"Bilbo!" Kili cried.

"No!" Thorin said angrily.

"Lay down your arms, or we'll rip his off," the first troll threatened the dwarves. Cheyanne picked herself up off of the ground, rubbing her bruised elbow. She looked at Thorin desperately; the dwarf muttered to himself and glared at Bilbo in frustration before planting his sword into the ground. The other dwarves followed his lead and dropped their weapons as well.

Within minutes, the trolls had them all tied up inside of sacks, a few of them rotating on a spit. Cheyanne was lying on the ground with the others, struggling against the sack that was wrapped around her.

"Don't bother cookin' 'em," the third troll said. "Let's just sit on them and squash 'em into jelly."

"They should be sautéed," argued Bert, "and grilled with a sprinkle of sage."

"Is this necessary?" Dori asked from his spot on the spit.

"Oh, that does sound nice," the third agreed, ignoring the dwarf.

"Unite us, you monsters!" Oin shouted.

"Take on someone your own size!" Gloin added loudly.

All of the dwarves started to make noise out of anger and fear. Cheyanne looked at Bilbo, who was near her feet. "We have to do something!" she hissed to him.

"What?" demanded Bilbo. "There's nothing to do.'

"Never mind the seasoning," the first troll was saying, "we ain't got all night. Dawn ain't far away, so let's get a move on. I don't fancy being turned into stone."

Bilbo looked up at Cheyanne, and she nodded, encouraging the thought. Bilbo turned back to the trolls. "Wait!" he called. "You are making a terrible mistake."

"You can't reason with them, they're half-wits!" Dori shouted down at him.

"Half-wits? Then what are we?" Bofur asked, also rotating slowly above the fire.

Bilbo managed to stand up with Cheyanne supporting him with her feet. He hopped around slightly to face he trolls. "I meant with the uh- with- the seasoning!" he said at last.

"What about the seasoning?" Bert asked him, curiously but cautiously.

"Well, have you smelt them?" asked Bilbo with a chuckle. "You're going to need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up."

"Traitor!"

"You stupid-"

"I'll gut you for this, halfling!"

Complaints came from the dwarves, and the ones in the sacks kick at him. Cheyanne kicked them back in warning, but they didn't pay attention to her.

"What do you know about cooking dwarf?" the first troll asked Bilbo.

"Shut up and let the, uh, flurgaburburrahobbit talk," Bert said sternly.

"Uh, th-the secret to cooking dwarf is, um-" Bilbo stammered, struggling.

"Yes? Come on," Bert encouraged.

"It's uh-"

"Tell us the secret!" Bert exclaimed.

"You have to… Skin them first!" Cheyanne burst in before Bilbo could bring any more notice to how long he was taking. She'd noticed Gandalf slide in from the side already, and she struggled to get to her feet as well. It was easy with all of the kicking from the dwarves near her.

"Tom, get me the filleting knife," ordered Bert.

"If I get my hands on you-" Gloin started.

"Cheyanne!" Dwalin exclaimed.

"What a load of rubbish!" Tom said. "I've eaten plenty with the skin on. Scuff 'em, I say, boots 'nd all."

Cheyanne nudged Bilbo and nodded to some trees subtly. Bilbo saw Gandalf slip behind the trees and nodded as well.

"'e's right!" the third troll agreed. "Nothing wrong with a bit of raw dwarf. Nice and crunchy."

He bent down, grabbed Bombur and dangled him over his mouth, about to eat him. "No!" Bilbo and Cheyanne shouted simultaneously.

"Eh?" the third troll asked, looking down at them.

"Do-Do not eat that one!" Cheyanne exclaimed. "I swear, it will not end well for you."

"Why's that?" the troll asked, lowering Bombur slightly.

"He-He's infected!" Bilbo cried.

"You what?" questioned Tom in confusion.

"Y-Yeah, h-he's got worms in his uhm-"

"Tubes!" Cheyanne finished.

The third troll dropped Bombur back into the pile of dwarves with a shout of disgust. "In fact, they uh… They all have… Infections," Cheyanne went on.

"Yes!" Bilbo agreed. "Dirty things, those nasty parasites. It's a terrible business. I wouldn't risk it, would you?" he asked Cheyanne.

"Oh, definitely not," she agreed. "Much too dangerous."

"Parasites? Are they talking about parasites?" Oin asked.

"We don't have parasites, you do!" Kili exclaimed hotly.

"What are you even talking about, halflings?" Gloin queried in exasperation.

The other dwarves started to complain about how they don't have parasites, either, and Cheyanne and Bilbo exchanged an annoyed glance. Finally, however, Thorin understood, and he kicked the others. They stopped and thought about it for a moment before understanding strikes them as well.

"I've got parasites as big as my arm!" cried Oin.

"Mine are the biggest ones; I have huge parasites!" Kili chimed in.

"We're riddled," said Nori.

"Yes, I'm riddled," Ori agreed.

"We all are, badly!" completed Dori.

"What would you have us do then?" Tom asked Bilbo and Cheyanne. "Let 'em go?"

"Well," Bilbo commented thoughtfully.

"You think I don't know what you're up to? These little ferrets are taking us for fools!" Tom exclaimed, point at them.

"Ferrets?" Bilbo asked, looking at Cheyanne.

"Fools?" Bert queried, confused.

At last, Gandalf appeared on top of a large rock above the clearing where they all were. "The dawn will take you all!" he shouted dangerously.

The three trolls turned to look at him. "Who's that?" asked Bert.

"Not idea," Tom replied.

"Can we eat 'im too?" questioned the third.

Gandalf pounded the top of the rock with his staff, and it splits in half. A ray of sunlight comes from the crack and it pours into the clearing. The trolls immediately begin to turn stiff as the light touches them, and they scream in pain as they are turned to stone fully in mere seconds.

The dwarves in the sacks on the ground all cheer for the wizard, while the ones on the spit squirm uncomfortably. "Oh, get your foot out of my back!" Dwalin shouted to no one in particular.

Love you.