CHAPTER 12

"This forest... It's Trollshaws, right?"

I don't need to ask but a bit of foreshadowing never killed anyone. Even as we cross the Hoarwell, a thin river splitting the East Road, Thorin and his troop have yet to catch up. I'm not worried about them but I doubt Gandalf will stay at the Troll-bait Inn without the King's stubbornness. I can only be my usual jaded self if I know what's going to happen. As such, the wizard needs to slow down.

"Troll... shaws..." Bilbo slowly turns to face what now must appear to be eerily looming trees of death "As in trolls?"

"Yes. Trolls. Humongous, flesh-eating, bone-crunching, sticky bit slurping trolls." Rolling my eyes toward the Wizard's back, I clear my throat meaningfully "It does beg the question of whether we should be here."

"Though they are dubbed thusly, Trollshaws hasn't seen the likes of its namesake this far south in quite some time. We are perfectly safe."

"Famous last words, if you ask me."

"And just who asked ye?"

I've grown used to Gloin's grumbling in the past few days, he's just as Jaded as I am, and don't take it to mean anything of substance. Still, I scoff silently and shut my mouth. Mostly because he makes the utterance just as we come across what used to be someone's humble abode.

Sliding from our mounts at Gandalf directive, the group begins to explore. Stepping gingerly with Myrtle at my back, I roam around searching for... trolls I guess. The air is thick with the smell of burnt wood but nothing is smoldering. The fire died long enough ago that its heat is gone, but not so long that the smell has left the area.

"Something foul has happened upon this place..."

Just as the words exit his mouth, the missing company members gallop into the open area, along with the ponies we were unable to find. We are back at full capacity, not that it will matter by the ebbs of the night.

The added dwarves are all grim-faced and covered in more dirt than we left them in. It's doubtful that they all had a tussle with the men, so it's probably an effort to cover up the blood I can smell wafting from them. I may not be a stranger to it, having choked on my own metallic mouth full a number of times, but it still turns my nose.

"We will camp here for the night. Fili, Kili, look after the horses ponies." I watch distantly as the wizard stiffens while examining the fallen Homestead "Make sure you stay with them."

"Yes, Uncle."

Even though he is too far for me to hear him now, I know what Gandalf is saying. I wonder if he knew the farmer and his family. If he'd sat down with them and shared a story or a meal. Maybe he'd set off fireworks for the children as their mother stood in the doorway and left. Perhaps the farmer, a warm but aging man, had too wondered about the trolls of Trollshaws and perhaps Gandalf waved way those suspicious worries. Maybe this family would still be alive is Gandalf had just done something more... But probably not.

No... Gandalf didn't know enough to ward them off or away and the farmer... He was probably a hateful man who would have refused to leave his home. He might have beat his wife and neglected his children. He could have moved out here to be away from all prying eyes so no one could judge his sins but his God. Maybe when the trolls finally descended on him, he assumed it was divine punishment... But probably not.

Maybe it's a bit of both... maybe neither. I wonder if I'll ever know... The truth of what happened here. Not that it matters anymore. Knowing does not change the fact that they are dead.

"... Your Pony...?" I'm knocked from my musing as Fili holds out his hand for the reins in mine. His brother stands a bit away, impatiently tapping his foot "Miss?"

"Sorry...! I mean-" In my distraction my manners snuck up on me. Disgusting little things that Grandpa drove into Annie and I as children: I'd been doing so well with ignoring the annoying pleasantries. Pushing them down and pulling up the aloof persona I've easily worn for so long, I drop the straps into his palm "Here."

"... Mi-"

"Everything alright? Gandalf?" The hobbit's interruption is welcomed by me. Using it to dismiss myself from his presence, I leave the prince's side "Where are you going?!"

"To seek the company of the only one around here who has got any sense."

"And who's that?"

"Myself, Master Baggins! I've had enough of dwarves for one day."

Ignoring the rest of the conversation, I search for clues. If trolls were here, which I'm sure they were, then there should be some evidence of that. The house doesn't count, as that probably happened from a contained fire, for warmth or dinner, being left unattended. Probably after the occupants had already been eaten.

Scanning the floor, I come across faint lines in the ground that almost look like big footprints. I follow them around camp like a private detective; dodging company members who venture too close. It's like an odd dance but its calming and it passes the time. It isn't until the sun has well and truly set, making it impossible for me to make out anything else, that I finally stand up straight. Arching; the sound of a crack from my back tells me that I've done well.

I barely found more than 10 prints, each one as long as I am tall, but I've done pretty well all things considered. One would think that beings as large and heavy as these trolls are supposed to be, would leave deeper imprints on the earth. Then again, they are out there right now and I don't hear a thing... Except for the creep breathing over my shoulder.

"WHAT do you WANT, Bifur?"

"Dulaz." Giving no indication that i understand what he's saying, I look at the dwarf as he points to the bowl in his hand. Not wanting anything to do with it, I frown deeply. When I don't take it right away, he shoves said bowl into my hands roughly "Deraz!"

"I-" he walks off without even waiting for whatever snazzy comment I was going to come back with. Glaring into the bowl, I watch the steam rise from the brown soup invitingly. Even so, I cannot bring myself to eat it. It's a trust issue but I can't eat food that I don't make, not that it matters. My appetite is non-existent as of late and with what's coming, I doubt I'll be able to keep it down. I'll have to give it to... "Bilbo?"

"Won't have ye giving yer meal away to the hungry little halfling tonight!" Smirking from his place over the pot, Bofur looks close to patting himself on the back "Ye think we haven't noticed? I've sent yer friend off on a grand adventure."

"I'm not hung-"

"Ah, ah ah! Ye eat that food, lassie. I'll hear nothing of yer denials."

The group chuckles at my position once they realize that I'm really having a problem. Throwing it to the ground would be a waste of food, something I just can't do... Yet to eat it would not only make me physically sick but also emotionally ill. There's no way I'm following a direct order from these guys without wanting to barf... But jokes on them, as Fili comes bounding through the trees.

"Trolls!"

Dulaz- Food

Deraz- Eat

Hi hi hi! I haven't been leaving author's notes but I've got a minute, so Hi! Leave a comment, question, or concern to let me know you're around. Otherwise, Atina will never tell the company her name and you all will forget it too! Then you'll have to go alllllll the way to chapter 1 and then get surprised when you realize she even has a family name. Don't let that happen!