"Where's Gandalf?" Berwyn asked Bilbo.
The company made camp in an abandoned barn, and Berwyn had just come back from settling the ponies. Under his guidance, they were left tied up very close to camp.
"Stormed off-I think he had a sort of tiff with Thorin about something."
Berwyn exhaled heavily and put his hands in his hair.
"What's wrong?" Bilbo asked. Berwyn looked into his large green eyes and debated how much to tell him.
Change the plot or not? Would they even believe him? Was there any point?
"Something is wrong with this place. It unsettles me and I think we should keep going."
"None of that talk around Thorin, lad. He's just chased off our wizard for saying much the same." Commented Balin, who appeared behind Berwyn.
"I've got a bad feeling too. Reckon one of those mushrooms Bombur put in last night's soup might've been poisonous." Added Bombur, before letting out a nasty fart right next to Balin. Balin managed to snag one of Bombur's pigtails before he could slip away and forced him to endure the smell of his own creation.
Bilbo and Berwyn backed away quickly. Gloin, who had been sharpening his axe as he did every night spoke up.
"I'd like to see them try! It'll make a good change of pace, get in some practice before we face the dragon."
"I thought the whole point of this was to avoid facing the dragon?!" asked Bilbo in a slightly shrill voice.
"If we're lucky." Chimed in Fili, standing to Bilbo's right. "Smaug will have starved to death, sitting on that pile of gold."
"If we're not, then I guess Smaug'll be having a snack." added Kili, slinging his arm around Bilbo and poking him rather disrespectfully on the stomach. "You don't have to worry 'bout that part, reckon you're about the right size to slip through his teeth."
"So you think a dragon is funny?"
Kili and Fili both stiffened as their uncle approached.
"No sir" "We were just-"
Two shovels landed in the brother's arms, cutting off their explanations.
"The catholes haven't been dug yet." Stated Thorin, his tone left no room for argument.
Catholes were the holes dug for 'relief' in the woods, and given the size and composition of the party, had to be quite and Fili made (very quiet) grumbling noises as they headed off to start digging.
Thorin was clearly in a bad mood and Berwyn wasn't going to push the issue about his intuition, but then Bilbo spoke up.
"I think we should listen to Berwyn. About hisā¦feelings. I mea- " Bilbo faltered when Thorin looked at him with his usual stony expression.
"What is he on about?" Thorin asked Berwyn.
Berwyn looked straight into Thorin's eyes and tried to convey his seriousness. "Something about this place doesn't sit right with me."
Thorin's expression remained the same and Berwyn wasn't sure if he was about to be scolded or just ignored.
"Dwalin! Bifur! Oin! Gloin! You will be joining Berwyn and Bofur on tonight's watch."
There was much grumbling but no disagreement from the dwarves.
Berwyn sighed with relief, although he was still unsure if his addition to the plot was a good or bad thing.
That night the watches were divided into three, with four people awake at a time.
Berwyn, Bifur, Oin and Gloin sat with their backs to the fire (to retain their night vision), and Gloin was quite proudly boasting about his wife and son.
Berwyn whittled a piece of wood into an unrecognisable blob that was meant to be a fox. As he was about to toss the failed carving into the fire, Bifur grunted something in Khuzdul and grabbed it. With a few swift strokes of a dagger the blob turned into a raccoon with very short legs.
Despite his fearsome appearance (amplified by the axe in his head), Bifur had been a master toy maker before he answered Thorin's summons. While axe may have impaired his ability to speak Westron, the rest of his faculties were very much in place.
The details of the mildly deformed raccoon were soon finished and it returned to Berwyn's hand.
"That's lovely."
Berwyn jumped and spun around to find Bilbo standing near the fire.
"Fu-Bilbo!" Berwyn exclaimed, clutching his spear. "We need to put a bell on you!"
Bifur said something indiscernible but his tone indicated he agreed with Berwyn.
"That's a master burglar for you." said Gloin, having no worry that his loud voice would disturb the sleeping dwarves. The chorus of snores remained uninterrupted so it seemed that this level of noise was acceptable.
"Pardon me-didn't mean to disturb you." Bilbo apologised, polite as ever.
"There's soup still on the fire." Offered Oin.
"And coffee." Grunted Gloin.
Coffee was one of the few things that surprised Berwyn when he arrived in Middle Earth. He expected dragons, trolls, and wizards, but not the mundane things like coffee. Of course the coffee didn't taste as good as the stuff from expensive coffee shops on earth but it was surprisingly better than crappy store-brand instant (what Berwyn usually drank).
Just as Bilbo was helping himself to some soup, the sound of panicking ponies caused everyone to freeze.
Berwyn was up in an instant, spear ready. Bifur and Gloin followed shortly after while Gloin remained alert by the campfire.
In the darkness Berwyn spotted a large boulder moving away from the ponies.
A familiar and sickening stench wafted over and a wave of panic caused blood to rush to Berwyn's head. Without thinking he hurled his spear with all his might at the troll's head.
The spear lodged not very deeply in the thick neck of the troll, and Berwyn found himself alerting the enemy and without a weapon.
"UURAAAAH! Who did that?!" The troll cried out in pain, dropping two ponies as he tried to reach around and dislodge the spear.
His roar was enough to wake the camp as Bifur, Oin and Gloin caught up and passed Berwyn, who had stopped to draw the old iron sword left by his father. Mentally chastising himself for pushing everyone into a head-on confrontation with a troll, Berwyn also rushed forward and slashed at the thighs of the troll.
His sword left scratches on the troll's hide, but despite being deep enough for Berwyn to stick the tip of his pinky in, the cuts did not bleed. The dwarves found themselves at an advantage, as the troll swung around his tree trunk-like arms and completely missed the dwarves. Berwyn on the other hand had a close call as a hand the size of his torso just barely missed smashing him into a tree.
"Here!" Berwyn called out to the rest of the company who were fast approaching, half dressed and fully armed.
Berwyn and the three dwarves who were already attacking continuously circled the troll, making sure to stay near his rear while playing a violent game of keep-away. Without his spear, Berwyn could only slash the backside of the troll while trying to avoid the swinging arms.
One particularly hard slash and Berwyn found himself holding the grip of his father's sword and nothing else, the blade remained in the troll's back. Once again Berwyn had no weapon.
Looking up at the spear lodged in the troll's back, Berwyn suddenly had a very stupid idea.
As ten more dwarves joined the fray, Berwyn suddenly jumped up and grabbed the pole of his spear, using his feet to push off the troll's back and pull it free. Fishy-smelling and dark greenish blood shot out from the wound and Berwyn fell backwards, knocking over Gloin and Bifur (narrowly avoiding ending up impaled on Bifur's spear).
Dwarves were being knocked into trees left and right, but the vast difference in numbers meant that the troll found himself overwhelmed from all directions as more scrapes and cuts appeared on his legs. Just as three dwarves were pushed back by the troll, Berwyn found a clear path forward.
With a roar he charged the troll, who was bent over due to the weight of five dwarves hanging onto his back, and plunged the spear straight up the troll's nose. The troll seized several times before going slack and slumping to the ground (nearly crushing Berwyn), causing a great cheer to go up among the dwarves.
"We did it! We killed a troll!" Cried Ori, the youngest dwarf.
"Wait-" Berwyn cried out, wanting to warn them but the dwarves were too loud, many of them had come to pat Berwyn on the (lower) back and cheer him for striking the final blow.
"Wait- where's Bilbo?" Berwyn's voice was drowned among the dwarves, but very quickly they fell silent as another much louder one drew their attention.
"Lay down your arms!" Growled a troll who had emerged from the darkness.
"Or we rip his off!" added the second troll. Between them, poor Bilbo was caught in a starfish pose.
8(snip snip)
Berwyn found himself strung up in a tree, much like a pinata, while the dwarves and Bilbo were all tied up in sacks or roasting over a bonfire.
The dwarves on the fire were groaning and yelling, their beard hair singeing. Thankfully, dwarves were quite fire-resistant and the trolls weren't very good at building proper fires.
As for why Berwyn was separated from the dwarves it was because one of the trolls was being extremely stupid, even for a troll.
"Here you go, wifey. A lovely wedding dress." The troll named Tom presented Berwyn with a ratty nightgown.
Berwyn glared at the troll, and then at the dwarves who were giggling even in this situation.
"I'm a man! I'm not your wife!" he said through gritted teeth.
"If you're a man, why don't you have a beard?" Asked the troll.
"Stop messing around and help me with these dwarves!" Scolded the second troll, Bert.
"Are a bunch of stinkin' dwarves more important than my lifelong happiness?" Retorted Tom, as he draped the nasty nightgown over Berwyn.
"What's the use in keeping a wife around? I say we eat her with the rest!" Growled Bert.
"She's nice to look at and she can keep the cave clean!" Argued Tom. "She doesn't look like good eating either, all thin and willowy."
"Then shove her in the cave and help me with these dwarves. We can deal with your 'wife' another time, daylight is coming and I don't fancy being turned to stone."
"If you're so worried, just eat the dwarves whole!"
Tom lifted Bombur feet first and was about to take a bite when Bilbo suddenly cried out.
"Wait! You can't eat him, he's a cook!"
"Wots that got to do with anything?" Asked Tom.
"Well if you're going to get married, you need a proper cook!" Replied Bilbo.
"I'm a cook!" Snapped Bert, sounding genuinely offended.
"Yes, but can you do pastries? Can you bake? How about hors d'oeuvres?" Bilbo added frantically as Bombur drew nearer to Tom's mouth.
Tom dropped Bombur back onto the pile of dwarves. Narrowing his eyes at Bilbo he asked,
"What are you? What do you know about weddings?"
"I'm a hobbit, and hobbits know everything about weddings and birthdays and parties." Bilbo said.
The trolls were both facing him now and neither of them saw the flash of grey among the trees.
"Stop wasting time!" Snapped Bert. "All this nonsense about weddings is just dilly-dallying."
"Shut up!" Barked Tom before he turned back to Bilbo, looming over him. "What else do you need for a wedding?"
Bilbo was shaking but he didn't stop speaking.
"A band! I know some of these dwarves can play!"
"I can play the flute!" Bofur shouted from the fire "Dwalin plays the fiddle!"
"I can sing! I've got a lovely soprano!" Added Kili.
Tom looked as if he was genuinely considering untying some of the dwarves, but then Bert came and slapped him on the head with a giant ladle.
"He's taking you for a fool! This is just a trick to get us to release his little friends." Growled Bert, stomping towards Bilbo.
"No-no! I just want to help!" Squeaked Bilbo, trying to hop away. Just before Bert could grab him, there was a large crash as the big boulder blocking the first rays of dawn was smashed. Bert and Tom looked back just in time to see Gandalf standing above them.
Before the trolls could say anything snarky, their already grey skin paled and stiffened as they turned to stone.
