CHAPTER 11

The rainwater waters watery water. The sentence, while horribly ugly, is horribly true. I was awakened by fat droplets hitting my closed eyelids this morning. There was just enough time to pack my things and pull out a poncho before the floodgates of Heaven opened up and cried me a river. Sharing a ride with Bilbo hadn't bothered me before but being sopping wet puts everyone into a bad mood.

"Hear, Mr. Gandalf? Can't you do something about this deluge?"

"It is raining, Master dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done!" If I wasn't in such a dreary mood, I might be laughing right now. Instead, I am trying not to punch Bilbo in the back of his head for not sitting still "If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard."

"Are there any?"

"Five."

"What?"

"What 'what', Master Baggins?"

"I thought..." Bilbo turns to me with a curious frown "Did you say something, Miss?"

"I said five as in, there are five wizards."

"Five other wizards?"

"No, four others. Five in total."

"Very good, young miss. That is correct. There are five of us. The greatest of our order is Saruman, the white. Then there are the two blue Wizards... Might I assume you know their names?"

"I am sure you wouldn't have forgotten Alatar and Pallando."

"You are indeed well informed." He does not deny having forgotten their names but neither does he admit to it. Straightening on his ride, the wizard is visibly annoyed. This time I do grin, though it's hidden beneath my hood "The two blues: Pallando and Alatar."

"And I'm sure you know the 5th." Bilbo giggles at my antics; a cheery sound in the gloomy day "You two are close, right?"

"And just how would you know that?"

"I'm a spy, remember?"

"Humph." Oops. My fun is going to get me caught if I'm not careful "Well, Spymistress, the 5th would be Radagast, the brown."

"Do you believe him to be a great wizard or is he... ahem... more... More like you...?"

"I think he is a very great wizard, in his own way." Short answer: No. Not that I'm one to speak since he could still whip me into shape while on shrooms "He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others."

"But aren't wizards supposed to guide the people of Middle Earth? How can he do that without talking to them? That just doesn't make sense."

"Now, see here-"

"Guide?" looking over his shoulder at me, Bilbo wipes his face of the rain only tho have it replaced almost immediately "Meddle, you mean."

"No, I mean... the purpose of wizards really is to guide but not to force. Not that they couldn't, what with them being one of the ma-"

"You do enjoy speaking of persons and purposes that you have little to no understanding of, child."

"..." I'd forgotten that few know the true origins or tasks given to the Wizards. That they possess enough power to cause more than a bit of trouble. Or... that they have the same weaknesses of the men they share an physical image with. Ha... wizards can get boners. On a more serious note, I imagine some secrecy is due "Sorry..."

"... Radagast does things a bit differently than most but it would serve you well not to tell a wizard how to do his duty." The chastisement is clear but I hear no threat, so I'm not too worried. Annoying a wizard will get you turned into a toad but angering one will get you killed. I'll try not to toe the line too often "Radagast... He keeps a watchful eye over the vast Forest to the east..."

"Maybe we'll run into him?" leaning forward as if he could see that far, the hobbit looks on excitedly "That would be interesting."

"We ARE headed that way. It could happen."

"Doubtful." I love being underestimated and decide to make it a personal bet on how long it takes the wizard to realize that I'm way worse than a spy "He needs to remain in his home, for evil will always look for a foothold in this world."

"Well, you aren't wrong..."

The Marshes stretch out on our left as we trod on. The rain has made the already muddy Earth into a soupy suction like concoction that makes everything all the worse. It takes hold of the ponies hooves only to release them with an awful squelching sound. For an hour I bleakley listen to it before the sound of voices draws my attention away. These voices are unknown to me, peaking my interest.

A group of 10 or so men trudge up the road towards us. By no means do we own the stretch of road but there's nothing really close to civilization in that direction for a while now. Their clothes are torn and dirty, matching their worn down faces. For all intents and purposes, they look pitiful and in need of aid. An outdated con if I've ever seen one.

"I sure hope none of you are stupid enough to fall for this obvious trap."

"Don't ye worry none, Lassie." Bofur shifts on his pony minutely to sit in a more defensive stance "We ain't."

"They might need help..." Ori. Sweet stupid Ori "They might not be-"

"It's a ruse, Ori. And even if it ain't" Spitting on the earth beside himself, Nori shakes his head darkly "All help for them is long behind us."

The group stops it's approach about twenty feet before they reach us. Thorin raises his hand causing our group to stop just the same. Silence stretches out between us before one man from the opposing side hobbles forward. He holds his ribs lightly and breathes heavily but he holds his head up high. "Friend or Foe?"

"Neither." Ouch. Thorin isn't pulling any punches with this lot "Identify yourselves."

"... I am Thomas, Master dwarf. Behind me are members of my guild." His eyes roam our group, stalling on me but not for more than a moment before moving on "Clothes makers and a few good blacksmiths, though... I doubt a dwarf would have need of one."

"..."

"I-I'd offer something to your delicate companion there but we are, uh... a little short on dresses at the moment."

The dwarf King does not laugh at the offered joke, merely staring the man down silently. Thomas tries to keep up the half grin but it droops at the edges as Balin moves up to play nice.

"What is your guild doing so far from any viable business and in such a poor state?"

"I will gladly share our tale with you, Master..."

"Balin, son of Fundin."

"Ah, yes. Of course. My guild was returning from an extended Voyage... From Rohan... East Emnet specifically. Do you know it?"

"... I must admit I have not been East in some time."

"Y-yes, well... We were attacked on the road two days ago, by bandits, and lost all of our supplies and three of our guild brothers." Thomas bows his head in a clear universal sign of grief. It's so clear that it's all as fake as a plastic tree. No one loses a true friend only then to list that loss AFTER the monetary one "We require aid, please. Just a horse to get help from the newest town or perhaps some food..."

"I thought East Emnet was that grassy place without set cities." the faker's head shoots up and he throws me a glare before smoothing out his face "I could be wrong but..."

"Yes, of course-"

"She isn't." Gripping his sword tightly, Dwalin snarls down at the men "You are in dire need of aid if you thought to trade in such a way in the land of Nomads."

"Friend" Thorin extends his own sword, clearly showing that he has had enough "or foe?"

"..." pausing for only a moment, Thomas drops his hand from his middle to expose a hidden blade as a wispy grin plants itself on his face "Foe."

With the act dropped, the remaining men charged at us with shouts and weapons. It frightens the ponies, who rear back with high-pitched knickers. I willingly fall off the back of Myrtle, rather than being thrown off, and roll out of the way to avoid any wayward hooves. I am quickly covered in mud and grime but it could be worse. The men do not give the dwarves a chance to get off their steeds or wrangled the frightened beasts; swinging at their legs and exposed undersides with a vengeance.

The dwarves are not going down without a fight though. Dwalin quite literally leaps off his saddle and begins aiming his axe at throats. He clears out enough space for a few more dwarfs to join in the battle and it isn't long before everyone is participating in the brawl. Where once were opposing sides, there is now a mass of muscle to avoid. I duck elbows, fists, and metal in an effort to keep my head attached to my neck. It's not good enough though.

As I'm making my way out of the fray, someone catches the back of my shirt. It chokes off my air without warning as I'm brought round to face him. I'm not sure how I didn't notice the behemoth before but I see him now.

"Well ain't ya jus' a pretty little thing? A big mouth on ya too. Good, cause I've plenty to fill it with, sweet heart." Grabbing my arm and pinning it behind my back, he roughly drags a hand through my hair and over the curves of my torso while licking the wet dirt off my face "I'm sure you would fetch a high price, up there with that mighty fine dwarf king, a sweet thing like you. How's about you give me a taste?"

"Funny thing is," bringing my foot up, I horse kick the guy in his gonads before punching him in the center of his throat. He goes down choking and snarling all at once "I'm not all that sweet."

Putting some space between us, I find the other men either still being subdued or in a state that they are no longer a problem. (Read: Dead.) Dori thunders over to the man I've been dealing with and epically knocks him out with a blow to the skull.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, sure. Why not."

"... Are you sure? I saw what he-"

"It doesn't matter. It's not the first time I've been molested." the dwarf stares with an obvious desire to say more and I know immediately that my response was not the right answer. Normal girls don't give that answer. I try again "I've been better. I've been worse. I'll live."

"...You do that."

It takes an additional five minutes of active movement but the bandits are defeated. Only two of the original ten men remain well enough to be called conscious though. Three are clearly dead, one escaped, and four others sustained wounds that probably won't allow them to survive the night. The two remaining include a glaring Thomas and my snarling blonde molester. Oh joy. The leader spits at his own feet as the dwarves stare down at him.

"Don't matter none if you kill us. There will be others. You've got yourself a head that's worth more with you dead than alive, Oakenshield."

"Who sent you?" Balin steps forward. He doesn't touch the man but his presence radiates a strange threat I didn't know he was capable of giving off "Speak."

"Piss off!"

"Balin. Dori. Nori. Oin. Bifur. I require your assistance. The rest of you, travel up the road and find us a camp for the night. We will find you. Do not return to this place."

"... Come along then." Gandalf ushers us all forward, stiffly glancing back at the unfolding scene. He knows what's about to go down "We'd best find the ponies before they go too far..."

"Is he... Are they... He's going to kill them... isn't he?"

"..." Ori is clearly lost without his brothers' guidance but he is no fool. Thorin chose the wizened strength of the group, along with a doctor and an unsavory individual. None of which are squeamish around blood and pain. He's going to hurt those men tonight, and that's putting it nicely "Yeah, probably."

"Doesn't that... bother you? E-even a little?"

"..." gazing back at the group, I remember the feel of that stranger's tongue on my face. How it hurt when he pulled my hair and felt me up without care. I know the things he would have done to me, the things I know he would gladly let others do for the right price. The short horror that would have awaited my life, before I was undoubtedly killed, is reason enough for me not to pity him or the company he keeps. They are not good men, so I shrug "No, Ori. It doesn't bother me at all."

Merry Christmas!