Reconciliation

Out of the frying pan and into the fire

Hey y'all, sorry it took so long. I'm experimenting with my writing and right now with first, second and third person. By the way, I starts the Silmarillion yet didn't get a chance to finish it. I read enough to figure out who Morgoroth and Sauron are, but I don't know the background of hobbits or exactly what happened to everyone, so I will be making most of the history up. I hope it will somewhat correspond to the Silmarillion. On with the horrible and rambling story!
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(First person, Elarinya's POV)
Gandalf counted his company as they ran past him and apparently came up one short. Cries of "Where is the Hobbit" and such echoed through the glen. I perked up at this. It's been awhile since I'd seen a halfling, and I was curious to know what they were like nowadays and how much they had changed from the original halflings I created.
(Note: created means made out of nothing, and it's my pet peeve when people use it as a synonym for made. But I'm using it here for lack of a better word, so please pardon my hypocrisy)

Yes, I created them. I'm not like my father - I give life where he destroys it. But enough about me, you'll learn more later.

Thorin began saying their burglar had deserted them. In the middle of his rant, I spotted Bilbo, who was resting, out of breath by a tree and listing to Thorin. Before I could say anything (which was good, as I found out later), he popped out, pulling a ring off his finger.

"No he isn't," he stated.

Thus Mithrandir and Thorin set about asking him questions. I, meanwhile, felt something was off, so I looked around.

"...Because you don't have one. It was taken from you. And I will help you take it back if I can." I heard as I rejoined the group.

"Sorry to break up the reunion, but something's coming, and I don't think it's help," I interrupted.

Just then, a howl ripped through the glen. (I don't know if it's a glen, but it rhymes, so yeah.)

"Out of the frying pan," started Thorin.

"And into the fire. Run!" finished Gandalf.

We ran and ran until we reached the end of a cliff. Seeing nowhere to go, we climbed the pine trees at the edge. And just in time too, for as Bilbo, the last, managed to cling to the trunk, wargs kept out of the woods and into the clearing. A pale goblin was seated on one of them,apparently the leader. Thorin was evidently surprised as though he could not believe it. I, however, just grumbled.

"Oh great, Mr. High-and-mighty I'm-the-fiercest-goblin-around. Couldn't your master spare someone worthy enough to fight me?" I taunted. Honestly, I didn't see how my father's servant could stand orcs. They were just stupid stinky mutants.

"What is that I smell? The scent of fear? I remember your grandfather reaked of it," he spat back, but to Thorin.
(Just bear with me as I forget the lines.)

Eventually, they got each other so riled up that Thorin rushed into battle with him. Unfortunately, Dori and another dwarf had chosen that exact moment to fall off their branches. Gandalf and I caught them, but just barely. Dori held on to Gandalf's staff, and the other grabbed my hands. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see Bilbo and then the rest of the dwarves going to Thorin's aid as he got hurt. When we saw a giant eagle circling below us, Gandalf and I both let go. After the rest of the dwarves had been picked up by various eagles, we each jumped onto one as their company sped off into the sunset.

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