Chapter 6

Gandalf tapped his staff against one of the troll statues and harrumphed. "It's rare for trolls to descend from the mountains."

"The trolls would not have traveled such a distance frequently and risked being turned to stone." Thorin mused, cradling his chin in his hand. "They must have sheltered close to here."

I peered up at one leering grotesque face and shuddered. "At least we survived the encounter without becoming troll chow."

The trolls were even more disgusting up close. Seeing their stone carcasses, I only felt relief they were dead. Imagine what kind of damage the trolls would have done if Gandalf hadn't saved the day.

"For which I am grateful. There is no quest without the company." The wizard remarked dryly then added. "I must say I am impressed with your adaptability, Miss Monroe. You should be proud for thinking so quickly."

"Yes, I'm a real maverick." I said sardonically.

The fur trim on Thorin's surcoat ruffled in the early morning breeze as he dropped his hand and looked at me. "I underestimated you." He said grudgingly.

His unexpected praise ruffled me. "No, you didn't. I'm not a fighter. I just got lucky."

Leaning on his staff, Gandalf peered down at me sternly. "Luck is nothing to turn your nose up at, my dear. It has turned the tide in many a battle." He said, but I wasn't listening.

The last of the adrenaline from the fight drained out of me and I swayed wearily on my feet, leaning against one of the statues for balance.

Thorin grabbed me by the arm so I didn't face-plant on the ground. "Are you alright?"

Running a hand over my face, I sighed. "Nothing that sleep won't cure."

"I'm afraid you will not find your rest until this eve. We must continue on our journey." Thorin replied, drawing away from me to speak with Gandalf alone.

Figures. Do one good deed and still end up screwed. I'd stab the trolls in their junk all over again if I could get a cup of coffee. I thought darkly. Unfortunately, coffee makers did not exist in Middle Earth.

A mountain of bags trudged into view. Part of the company had been sent to the camp to retrieve our belongings while the rest of us remained here.

Kili dropped my pack in front of me with a huge grin. "I for one, don't regret seeing our scribe in action." He draped a companionable arm across my shoulders. "We'll have to give you a name. A name worthy of a hero."

Hauling a pair of bulging saddle bags, Fili joined us. "Tis custom among dwarves to give a name for a great deed done in battle." He said seriously.

I was instantly suspicious. The pair were up to no good. "Great deed? All I did was throw a fire poker at the troll."

Mischief danced in Kili's eyes. "Aye, your skills are quite impressive. Many a male would quake before the dreaded Shaft Killer." He brandished my fire poker theatrically, pretending to jab his brother in the gonads.

"Hey, watch it Kili!" Fili yelped, covering himself.

I chuckled at their antics. The brothers knew how to lighten the mood. "Shaft Killer? You guys are playing with me. There's no way a dwarf would be okay with being referred to as that."

Pulling me close, Kili declared in a sonorous voice, "Hence forth you shall be known as Adelaide Shaft Killer!"

Fili snorted, choking back laughter. "Aye, suits you well. When they hear the tale, Dwarves from here to the Blue Mountains will rush to conceal their family jewels from your wrath."

My smile faded. Don't tell me they were serious? I shoved Kili away and glared at the two brothers. "You are not going to go around calling me that."

Kili's grinned widened. "I'll never forget the sight of that troll's face when he realized you pierced his-"

I glared at him again and he shut up. "I was aiming for his eyes, not his junk."

Fili made a face. "Great aim, Shaft Killer."

Dwalin, overhearing the conversation, shook his head at our stupidity. "Lads, leave it be."

Chuckling, the two brothers whisked me along as the company set off in search of the trolls' cave. "What about the ponies?"

Kili helped me over a narrow stream, the rocks too slippery to manage on my own. "They fled during the night. There's no chance in Mahal we'll catch them now."

For a moment, I mourned the loss of Stardust. I knew he was right. Still, I missed my sassy pony. She would be better off with the herd than with us. If she stayed, Stardust would probably only get killed in some terrible way.

As we made our way through the forest a powerful stench suddenly hit me in the face, snapping me out of my melancholy thoughts. It was truly the worse thing I'd smelled in my life. Combine an open sewer with rotten eggs and a bloated deer on the side of the road in high summer and it might come close to describing the stench that rolled across my tongue sending involuntary quivers through my belly.

Eyes watering, I gagged and slapped a hand over my nose and mouth. "Ugh. What the hell is that?"

"Tis bracing, the smell of troll shite." Kili agreed amiably, though he now boasted a pale cast to his skin.

Things were bad if a dwarf was affected.

The closer we got, the worse the stench grew.

When we arrived at the mouth of the cave, I swallowed hard, my gorge rising. Dung as thick as mud smeared the cavern walls and a cloud of flies hovered inside the entrance to the boneyard/den.

One look was enough for me to hurl last night's dinner all over Kili's boots.

The dwarf leaped back in alarm. "Hey there, lass!"

I heaved again, my stomach rebelling violently. The dwarves wisely kept out of the line of fire as vomit splattered the ground in a wide arc.

A pair of hands gathered my hair and held the long locks out of the way while I finished puking.

I drew in several jagged breaths, shaking all over. My fingers dug into the marshy soil as I gently pushed myself up to my knees.

Kili crouched down in front of me, unconcerned about the state of his boots. He gripped me firmly by the shoulders and peered into my eyes. "What ails you?"

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I took another shallow breath before answering him. "The smell of the cave is making me nauseous." I whispered, embarrassed.

"Of all the places to toss your accounts." The dwarf remarked with a weak grin. "Not that this place can get any worse."

I smiled back faintly in return, grateful for his attempt at humor. At least he wasn't angry with me for using him as a makeshift trash can.

The hands tangled in my hair slipped free, and the waves tumbled loosely over my shoulders.

Wrapping my arms around my stomach, I peered through the tangle of hair to see Thorin striding out from behind me. His large hands were curled into fists at his sides as he stalked toward the cave.

I stared after him in disbelief.

A confusing morass of emotions swirled around inside me as I tried to make sense of it. Why would he help me? I was certain the dwarf king cared little for me. Yet he had helped me. I marveled, sweeping the hair out of my face.

When our gazes connected across the short distance separating us his expression suddenly hardened. Thorin pivoted on his heel, putting his back to me. "We have already wasted enough time. Dwalin, Gloin, Ori, come with me. The cave must be searched as quickly as possible."

Half of the company, along with Gandalf and Bilbo piled into the cave behind Thorin. I didn't envy them.

I pushed to my feet.

I never knew what to make of Thorin or his sporadic kindnesses. Perhaps, it was merely his nature as a leader to look after those in his charge, even a human scribe far out of her depth.

Before I could ponder things further Kili offered me his canteen and I gladly gulped down water to chase the vile taste from my mouth.

When I quenched my thirst, I returned the canteen to the dwarf and pushed to my feet. "I think I'll take a nice long walk."

About a mile away from this literal shithole.

"Go with her, Bofur. No one is to be alone." Kili's gaze darted nervously around the woods. "I doubt the trolls will be the last trouble we encounter."

Desperate for a breath of fresh air, I wasted no time hobbling away from the cave. Bofur whistled a jaunty tune as we tromped through the forest.

I didn't stop until the smell of troll disappeared.

Bofur and I soon came upon a small hollow, a round narrow space surrounded by an amalgamation of rocks and greenery. Piles of rocks studded either side of the uneven path like broken teeth, occasionally interrupted by a tree root protruding from the jumble.

Bracing my aching foot on a flat-topped boulder I studied my surroundings. The spring forest should be alive with the sound of animals but an eerie quiet had descended over the trees. Notably absent was the chirping of birds, the chittering of squirrels waking up from their hibernation and the occasional ruffling of leaves to signal the passage of an animal.

Goosebumps popped up all over my skin. It felt like we were being watched.

"Bofur." I said softly in warning, rubbing my arms.

The dwarf's normally gentle face looked troubled. "We should go no further. We'll wait for the others but keep a sharp eye. Something is not right."

These dwarves loved to state the obvious. I mused. Though Bofur was right to worry. The trolls were just the tip of the iceberg.

The two of us remained on our guard, aware of an unseen danger but unable to determine what it was. Keeping a watch on my surroundings, I weaved my hair into a simple braid and tied it off.

Bofur patrolled the hollow with his ax, make circuits every so often around the close area.

I had only my fire poker to defend myself, but I was starting to become fond of my peculiar weapon after the troll incident.

Roughly half an hour passed before the company joined us, the faint odor of troll lingering about them. I wrinkled my nose.

Thorin had a new sword strapped to his waist, the silver hilt gleaming brightly against his dark clothes. The company formed a half-circle around their leader to discuss what to do next.

I joined Bilbo off to the side, noticing he'd acquired a long knife. His sword, soon to be christened 'Sting'.

I felt a little fangirl flutter at witnessing a pivotal moment from the storyline. Sting was exquisitely made, as expected of elven craftmanship from the First Age. "Nice sword."

Bilbo averted his eyes, resting a hand lightly on the knife hilt. "Gandalf thinks I should carry a weapon." He seemed unusually grave, bothered by the knife hanging on his belt. "I'm not so certain."

I crossed my arms over my chest, to hide the faint trembling in my hands, his words stirred in me. "He's not wrong. There's no telling what we will face ahead. However, I understand why you're reluctant. Before last night, I never pictured myself stabbing another living thing. I guess, you never know what you're capable of until you're forced to make a choice."

A lesson I had learned repeatedly during the pandemic, forced to navigate the chaos with very little guidance. Feeling so alone and afraid and sad like everyone else in the world uncertain how to process the loss of my fellow human beings.

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The unseen malevolent presence continued to haunt the company as we traversed the woods. The trees grew sparse, the terrain more rugged. Then the corpses of forest animals began to appear, littering the ground like leaves.

Tears pricked my eyes when I saw a fox stretched out on its side beneath a cluster of wilted fern leaves. I swiped at my cheeks and blinked rapidly. Nothing tugged on my heartstrings more than seeing an animal suffer for no reason.

I noticed Bilbo watching me and forced a stiff smile into place to hide my misgivings. The hobbit was already on edge. I did not wish to make things worse.

Turning away from him I crashed straight into Dwalin's back. The dwarf gave me a filthy look over his broad shoulder and gripped his ax.

I rubbed my nose, glowering right back. He was the one who stopped suddenly.

In the distance, a high pitch cry sounded, growing louder as something smashed through the forest. "Murderers! Fiends!"

Thorin shoved me behind him and took a protective stance in front of me and Bilbo unsheathing his new sword.

I pulled out my trusty fire poker from my pack, holding it in front of me. I had no delusions. If anything got past the dwarves I was in big trouble.

The company crouched battle ready as a mad-looking old man zoomed into view on a sledge pulled by...rabbits?

"Gandalf?" The stranger cried in surprise, pulling on the reins to prevent a rabbit stampede.

The sledge skidded to an abrupt halt. The stranger leaped down clutching a staff. He was a strange looking fellow, with a battered hat smashed on top a wild nest of hair and what looked like bird droppings down the side of his face.

After the troll cave, the sight of bird poo did not bother me in the least.

Weapons were lowered or sheathed as it became evident the old man meant no harm. I tucked my fire poker back in my travel pack and observed the stranger, a faint suspicion lurking in the back of my mind.

"Who is this?" Thorin demanded of Gandalf, as it appeared the wizard was acquainted with the stranger.

"A very old friend." Leaning on his staff, Gandalf pushed through the dwarves to greet the stranger. "Radagast!"

The two wizards embraced warmly, then Gandalf turned to the company. "This my fellow wizard Radagast the Brown."

The little wizard nodded, his large owl-like eyes sort of hazy. "I-I've been searching for you. There's something very important I must tell you-" Radagast broke off with a frustrated whine. "Oh, the thought! I just had it!"

Gandalf waited patiently for the other wizard to stop his babbling.

Fili and Thorin exchanged a fully skeptical look.

Even I had to admit, Radagast didn't seem all there. Probably spent too much time isolated in the woods, poor man.

It took a full minute of muttering under his breath before Radagast opened his mouth and a stick insect crawled off his tongue into Gandalf's waiting hand.

The oddball wizard cleared his throat and tugged at the collar of his robes. "Oh, that's much better." He blinked. "Right. Gandalf, something is very wrong. The forest is sick. I-" Radagast again paused, realizing he had an audience. "Might I have a word alone?"

"Of course." Gandalf said.

Radagast led Gandalf several paces away, talking in a soft urgent tone.

The presence of this newest wizard sent my thoughts spinning.

At the rate I was running into wizards I'd meet the whole dream team before long. From what I remembered Radagast was a nature wizard. I doubted he had the ability to transport me home.

Perhaps, Saruman-

My train of thought skidded to a halt and backtracked. No, that's right, the White Wizard was evil. He couldn't be trusted.

I clenched my jaw, frustrated. The solution was still so far from my grasp.

Dwalin scowled. "What are you pouting about this time?"

"I'm thinking, not pouting. Maybe if you used your head once in a while, you'd know the difference." I sniped back, fed up with the dwarf and his snide comments.

Kili snorted, earning a glare from the angry dwarf.

The faint skunky smell of marijuana drifted from Gandalf's pipe across the short distance.

I shook my head. It still blew my mind how common it was in Middle Earth. The dwarves preferred tobacco in their pipes but both Gandalf and Bilbo enjoyed the 'Old Toby' as they called it.

I avoided both since I knew what smoking did to the lungs.

A wolf howled close by.

Bilbo jumped at the animalistic growl. "What is that, a wolf?"

The head of a huge canine appeared at the crest of the hill.

Bofur tensed, the flaps of his hat quivering. "That is not a wolf."

My eyes widened as three dire-wolf like beasts descended on us, dagger like teeth gleaming in the dappled light of the forest like knives.

Without hesitation the dwarves dove right into the fray, attacking the animals as they loped down the steep incline.

I hung back with Bilbo, holding my arm in front of the hobbit. We'd only be in the way.

With a might roar, Dwalin slammed his axe into the skull of the creature, killing it instantly.

Spinning, Thorin drove his sword into the chest of another dire-wolf, the thing collapsing with a yelp at his feet. Kili took down the final one with an arrow.

Thorin kicked the dire-wolf. "Warg scout." He spat, long dark hair flying around his shoulders as he turned to scan the trees. "Which means an orc pack is close."

I swore.

"We'll never make it without the ponies." Ori said nervously.

"I'll draw them off!" Radagast said, striding over with a determined tilt to his chin.

"Don't be ridiculous they'll be on you in seconds!" Gandalf argued.

"These are Rhosgobel rabbits. I'd like to seethem try." The brown wizard declared smugly.

A/N: Well, here it is folks. I'll admit this chapter was a bit of a struggle and I'm not confident with how it turned out. Writer's block threatened to take over at every turn. I had planned for them to be arriving at the entrance to the Hidden Valley but things just didn't work out that way. I suppose I'm just impatient to get to Rivendell and I just want to rush pass all this stuff. But I won't. I want to do a good job.

Please comment and vote!

Disclaimer: Hobbit belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, WB, MGM. This is a non-commercial derivative work. 

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