A Single Dream is More Powerful Than a Thousand Realities

Rain and Trolls

A week into their travels, Lyla eyed the grey skies with trepidation from atop her pony. She could smell the rain in the air and knew it was only a matter of time before the downpour began. Of course, when she voiced her concern about traveling in the impending weather to her companions, her queries went on deaf ears. They didn't appear the least concerned about the rain.
"We have much road to cover master Baggins," Thorin's deep voice rumbled signaling slight annoyance as he peered down his nose at her, "We can't stop every time the weather disrupts your comfort."
The majority of the company sniggered at the obvious slight. Bofur, however, with his hat firmly planted on his head, gave her an encouraging smile. Out of all the dwarves, he was the one willing to befriend her. And she was indeed grateful to the toymaker. His cheerful disposition calmed her fraying nerves as they moved further and further from the Shire.
The skies cracked and groaned in warning and the first droplets of rain began. In a way, the weather matched her mood: stormy. That gammy wizard neglected to mention a few important details about the journey until well after Lyla had signed the contract. It was only once the ink dried that the dwarves mentioned Smaug the Terrible.
A dragon of all things. They wanted Lyla to steal from a dragon! Just the thought of coming face to face with what would surely be her end, made Lyla's heart hammer in her chest. But a contract was a contract, and she had signed it. She had to see this through...even if she wasn't technically a burglar.
Or male for that matter.
Ah but those were details that were unimportant. Or at least that's what Gandalf tried to reassure.
The rain picked up in speed, the droplets growing ever larger. It didn't take long before Lyla was completely drenched, no matter how many times she tugged her waistcoat closer to her body. Her curls were matted to her head and the scent of wet pony assaulted her nose. She glanced at the dwarves with a tad bit of envy. Each had a cloak, far more resistant to water than her own comfortable clothing. As a result, they seemed relatively unperturbed by the torrential downpour.
She glanced balefully at Bofur's hat, somewhat spiteful at his good fortune. Out of all of them, he appeared the least concerned by the weather. In fact, he looked rather content and warm beneath the hat and cloak.
Lyla gazed down at her soaked clothing painfully aware how unprepared she clearly was for this journey. She didn't have the type of supplies necessary to be making this trek. Arguably it really wasn't her fault. Her parents never thought to actually acquire such items and with the short notice of this journey, Lyla didn't have time to go hunting for such items in Hobbiton (not that it was likely that she'd actually find anything). No, she had to make due with what she had in her possession.
She grimaced though, when she noted the state of her bedroll.
Lyla jumped when a heavy weight fell across her shoulders, blocking out the unceasing rain. Surprised, she jerked her head up and was met with Dwalin's intimidating form next to her pony.
"You won't do any of us any favors by falling ill in this weather," Dwalin grumbled, fastening the ties around her neck.
Embarrassed, Lyla tried to refuse the gift, "Oh I couldn't take your cloak. I appreciate the sentiment, but-"
"There's nothing sentimental about it," Dwalin snapped, "It's merely practical. Best take the cloak and be done with it laddie. No more of your frilly conversation if you please."
Shocked, she merely nodded dumbly. With a satisfied nod, Dwalin flicked the hood of the cloak atop her head and without another glance in her direction, led his pony back towards his brother and Thorin at the head of the company.
Lyla just stared confusedly at Dwalin's back. Out of all the dwarves in this company, she did not expect the most intimidating one to show her kindness...even if he claimed it was for practical reasons.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
It was a small mercy that they came upon the remnants of the farm house as the sun started to set. The rain had dwindled to a slight drizzle (you could barely call it rain at that point) but that didn't prevent the company from feeling the lingering chill on their damp clothes. The dilapidated walls and crumbling roof would provide enough shelter to get a large fire going. Lyla relished the thought of drying her bed roll out and getting a warm meal in her stomach.
It appeared, however, that not all the members of the company were not as eager to rest as Lyla. Gandalf gazed around hesitantly, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the damaged home. His gaze lingered on the top of the structure and he muttered something too low for Lyla to hear. It appeared, though, that Thorin heard for immediately his form bristled and he turned to face the wizard, drawing himself up to full height (which admittedly wasn't much in comparison to Gandalf).
"I will not go near that place," his voice carried over the company, who still and observed the scene before them.
Lyla strained to hear what Gandalf replied, but only caught snatches. "We could get food, shelter...advice!"
'Where?' she thought confused. If such a place was close by, why would they not seek out comfort such as what Gandalf described?
"I am the leader of this company and you'd do well to remember that wizard!" Thorin shouted. Lyla stiffened. Were you allowed to yell at wizards?
It appeared you could. Gandalf only huffed in response and drew his grey robes closer to his body, clutching his staff tightly. Turning quickly, he made a hasty exit of the company.
"Gandalf?" Lyla questioned, worry and confusion interlaced in her words, "Where are you going?"
"To seek the only person who has any sense!"
"And who's that?"
"Myself master Baggins! I've had enough of dwarves for one day."
Lyla's stomach dropped. A disappearing wizard did not bode well. But there wasn't much she could do. She couldn't follow after the wayward wizard and demand his return. Wizards did as they pleased. And she had a contract to uphold.
Pushing the thoughts of Gandalf out of her mind, she assisted Balin in unloading the ponies and collecting wood for the fire. She would have liked to help with dinner too (who liked eating burnt stew?) but Bombur was a fierce guard of the food stores. If she didn't want to lose a finger or two, it was best to stay away.
And few hours later, after the stew had been dished out, Gandalf had still not returned. The skies had darkened, and night fully descended. Lyla paced by the fire, unease coiling uncomfortably around her.
"He's been a long time," she murmured peering out into the darkness. Her eyes weren't good enough to distinguish much though.
"Who?" Bofur asked, half listening, as he ladled stew into two waiting bowls.
"Gandalf."
Bofur grinned gently at her, "He's a wizard!" he remarked as if that answered everything. "He does as he chooses. Now, do us a favor and bring those to the lads." He thrust the two steaming bowls into Lyla's unsuspecting hands.
With a stiff nod, she trudged out into the waiting darkness and headed towards the soft snorts and shuffling of the ponies. When she got closer, though, Lyla noticed something odd. Both Fili and Kili stood stark still, gazing into the group of animals, identical panicked expressions on their faces. Lyla looked between the two of them confused.
"What's the matter?"
"We're supposed to be looking after the ponies," Kili began
"But we've encounter a slight problem," Fili continued.
"We had sixteen"
"Now there's fourteen."
This didn't make any sense. How did one lose ponies?
"What were you two doing to lose the ponies?" Lyla quirked her eyebrow at the two of them.
"Ahh.." Kili trailed off awkwardly, looking quite embarrassed.
"Look!" Fili whispered pointing behind Kili's shoulder, "There's a light!"
He darted into the trees, Kili fast on his heels. Lyla was torn between returning to camp to alert the others or following the two boys into the wilderness to face...whatever that light was. With a long-suffering sigh, she stumbled her way towards Fili and Kili. She just knew she'd come to regret this decision.
Halfway to the two dwarves, however, a rather loud crash directly overhead had her dropping the bowls of stew and cowering under a bush, her eyes going wide. She poked her head up when the soft neighing of ponies rang out close to her. She sucked in a startled breath at the image of a giant creature lumbering through the overgrowth, downing trees with his wide gait. Under each arm, a pony squirmed desperately trying to get away, though it appeared like a useless endeavor.
As the figure moved away from Lyla, she scrambled to her feet and hastened towards Fili and Kili's crouched forms.
"What was that?!" she whispered, panting, adrenaline running through her veins, making her heart pound.
Kili's eyes narrowed at the scene, "Trolls," he ground out, darting closer to the light, Fili and Lyla close on his heels.
Crouching behind a downed tree, Lyla noted that the light was a rather large fire and surrounding that fire were three monstrous looking trolls. The ponies were placed in a makeshift pen, bucking and neighing frantically.
"I hope you're gonna gut these nads," one of the trolls grumbled smacking the pen, "I don't like the stinky parts. Never have."
The troll who sat stirring the giant pot atop the fire, grumbled about ingratitude and continued to stir his concoction. Lyla's nose wrinkled at the pungent smell wafting towards her. She'd take Bombur's stew any day over that putrid creation.
"We have to do something," Fili whispered.
"We need to get Thorin," Lyla remarked, not taking her eyes from the campfire of trolls, strangely fascinated by their presence. She'd never seen something so...unusual and terrifying in her life. Her Tookish curiosity was getting the better of her.
"Ah...no. Best not to worry him," Kili remarked hastily, guilt lacing his words.
"Right. Yes, we thought as our official burglar that you'd like to look into it."
Lyla snapped her head back to look at the dwarves. Were they mad?!
"Wha-I-no! I can't!"
Kili pushed her forward, "It's perfectly safe! Mountain trolls are slow and stupid and you're so small! They'll never see you. And we'll be right behind you!"
"Yes! If you get into any trouble, though, hoot once like a barn owl and twice like a brown owl."
Lyla stumbled, searching for her balance, "once like a brown owl? Twice like a barn-are you sure this is a good-" she gazed behind her and noted that her companions had disappeared, "idea."
Bother.
Right then! Straightening her jacket determinedly , Lyla crept closer to the fire, wary of stepping to close to the light. The shadows would hide her far better. Grateful for her light footsteps, she snuck quietly towards the pen, where the ponies stamped their feet and shook their heads frantically.
She noticed a knotted rope near the edge of the shadows that held the pen together. If she could just get it loose then the ponies could break free. Lyla grasped the thick frayed rope and tugged. The blasted thing, however, wouldn't budge. She felt her eye twitch in annoyance. What was she to do now?
Letting out a shriek, thoughts of freeing ponies fled her mind as her feet were pulled from under her and she swung through the air, the blood rushing to her head. The hideous face of one of the trolls swam into view. She was, without a doubt, Middle Earth's WORST burglar. It didn't take more than five minutes for her to be captured.
"What are you." It demanded shaking her lightly, "Some oversized ferret?"
"Ferret?!" Lyla squeaked with indignation, "I am not a ferret! I'm a burglar-er-hobbit."
"A burglarobbit?" a second troll questioned, his eyes flicking in two different directions. "Can we cook it?"
"Ah no no! Not me. I wouldn't taste very good. All skin and bones I am. Nasty business really" Lyla scrambled with her words.
"He's right. He wouldn't make more than a mouthful," the troll crushing her ankles remarked, his foul breath blowing in her face. Her stomach churned at the repulsive stench.
"Perhaps there's more burglarobbits 'round these parts. Maybe enough for a pie," the third troll remarked, wiping a filthy rag across his running nose.
"Oi, are there any more of you running around where you shouldn't?" her captor grumbled in her face
"Nope," Lyla replied.
"He's lying!" the second troll retorted
"No I'm not!"
"Hold his toes over the fire. Make 'im squeal"
A mighty chorus of cries erupted, however, and Lyla was dropped unceremoniously to the ground, as the gaggle of dwarves descended upon the trolls. Landing with a sharp pain to her shoulder, Lyla scrambled to her feet and backed away from the large feet tramping through the makeshift campsite.
Dwalin and Thorin slashed through the legs of the three monstrosities, with Nori and Bofur close behind with mattocks and hammers, crushing toes and trying to get the trolls off their feet. Ori and Gloin aimed for the heads knocking teeth out, while Dori and Balin slashed at the stomachs and arms. Oin, Bifur and Bombur came at the trolls from behind, stabbing and hacking at the calves and lower backs while Fili sliced at hands and fingers. Kili stood a short distance away, firing arrows at the creatures' necks.
Lyla, who didn't have a weapon, tried to stay well out of the fray and instead focused on the ponies. She could try and free them at least. Hesitantly, she inched towards the pen once more and started to tug at the ropes once more.
But, once again, her legs were tugged from underneath her.
'Come on!' she thought dourly. She'd never live this down.
"Lay down your arms," the troll shouted, "Or we'll rip 'is off."
Thorin pushed his sword into the dirt and the rest of the company soon followed. Without their weapons they were quickly stripped of their armor and half (including Lyla) were stuffed into sacks. The others, were tied together on a spit over the newly invigorated fire. Lyla could feel Thorin's piercing glare on her. He'd never forgive her for this degradation.
Double bother.
There had to be something they could do.
"'urry up! Don't bother cookin' em. Dawn ain't far off and I don't fancy being turned to stone."
Dawn? Stone?
'Stall Lyla'
"Wait!"She shouted rolling to her feet. Her shoulder gave a painful jerk that made her wince, but she ignore it. "You're going about this all wrong!"
"What do you know about cookin' dwarf burglarobbit?" one of the trolls questioned stomping closer.
"Oh plenty! Like cooking them on a spit does nothing but dry them out. They'll get all leathery and tough that way."
"What would you have us do then? Squash them into jelly?"
"Ahh...actually-"what could she say?
"Yes, go on then? What's the secret?"
"The, uh, secret to cooking dwarf is...is-"
"Go on then."
"The secret is to-" she sent an apologetic look to the group in sacks, "skin them first!"
An uproar of angry voices descended on Lyla. She could hear Dwalin's above the other's declaring he'd not forget those words.
Terrific.
"What a load of rubbish! I've eaten plenty with their skins on! I say stuff 'em boots and all!"
"He's right, nothing wrong with a bit a raw dwarf!" the bug-eye troll declared picking up Bombur's hulking form, "Nice and crunchy!"
"No! Not that one he's...he's infected."
"You-wha?"
"Yeah he's got worms...in his...tubes! It's a terrible business really. I wouldn't risk it. I really wouldn't."
Her remarks had the desired effect as the troll dropped Bombur back onto the rest of her bound companions. But then his attention turned back towards Lyla.
"I say the little bugger's lyin'" The troll fixed both swiveling eyes on her, "Let's start with you first then, eh?"
The putrid creature wrapped its thick fingers around her small frame and Lyla's heart started hammering.
"We're all infected really, though. Didn't I mention that?" She murmured frantically.
"Yes we are! I've got huge parasites!" Kili's voice chimed in.
"We're riddled." Ori.
"Yes we are, badly!" Dori.
"Shut it, you lot!" The troll holding Lyla squeezed in annoyance at the clamoring voices. Lyla gasped in pain. It was as though stone were crushing her ribs and with her bound chest, the pressure only intensified. Her vision swam slightly.
"The dawn will take you all!" The all too familiar voice of their wayward wizard echoed through the small camp.
Lyla turned her head in time to see Gandalf standing atop a boulder, raising his staff. With a loud crash that rivaled the thunder of the storm the previous day, the contact between the staff and stone split the boulder in two, sending streams of golden sunlight upon them. The trolls hissed and groaned in pain. Lyla dropped from the grasp of her captor as his arms stiffened and his features hardened. Soon, each of the trolls stood still.
Stone.
Lyla breathed a sigh of relief, wincing. But happy.
Incredibly happy.
Gandalf hurried to her side, and untied the sack from around her neck. Then carefully, the two went through and freed the rest of her companions, Lyla focused on the sacked dwarves, and Gandalf focused on those tied to the spit. Most were grateful for the help. Kili clapped her on the shoulder lightly, a grin on his face. Apparently near death experiences made him happy?
"That was brilliant! Perfectly brilliant" he remarked rising to his feet and assisting her.
When she came to Thorin, however, he said not a word. His glower said it all though. Swiftly, she undid the tie to his sack and he jerked away from her fumbling fingers to rise to his feet.
"You!" He launched into a tirade, "What were you doing?" Thorin's hands were balled into fists, "Tell me master Baggins, would you consider yourself an adult?"
"Well yes, I-"
"Then I would think you'd have more sense than to traipse into a troll camp with naught but your limited wits about you."
"Now see here I-"
"And," he continued on, interrupting her, "I'd expect you to have the intelligence to come and seek out the leader of this company before following in the foolish footsteps of its younger members."
"But I-"
"Are we clear master Baggins?" Thoring narrowed his eyes at her, silencing the retort she would have given.
Lyla felt a blush rise on her cheeks and she nodded curtly, refusing to say a word, her anger boiling near the surface. With a stiff nod, Thorin turned towards the pile of weaponry that the trolls had heaped together when they'd stripped the dwarves of their things. The company stood still, eyes shifting between Thorin's skulking form and Lyla's frozen one. No one said a word.
They didn't have to though. Lyla'd heard enough from Thorin, thank you.
Stiffly, she began to help collect any wayward article that belonged to a company member, staying as silent as possible. She was embarrassed and furious at the same time and wanted nothing more than to reprimand Thorin for his haughty behavior. She was not a child to be chastised. But that wouldn't get her anywhere. He was still the company leader. Much to her annoyance.
Oh confound the pride of dwarves!