What if... (A Hobbit Fanfiction) (DISCONTINUED)

Orcs, Wargs, Rabbits, and Elves

~Third Person Brandy POV~

The Troll cave was a nasty piece of work, insects buzzing around, and some bones laying clearly out in the open. Brandy's face scrunched up, the smell making her nose twitch. Gandalf was the first to walk in, the top of his hat, brushing up against the roof of the cave, and she was right behind him, and in front of Thorin.

"Oh, what's that stench?" Nori asked, coughing.

"It's a Troll-hoard," Gandalf said, making it sound like the most obvious thing, and, in a way, it was.

"Be careful what you touch." he warned. The Dwarves were all now collectively coughing, while Brandy just flat-out held her breath. The Dwarves all gathered around a pile of gold, scattered across the floor, gaping at it in amazement. 

 Brandy, whoever, was focused on the spiked metal fence, with hands, heads, and other assortments of body parts, making her gag a little.

"Seems a shame just to leave it lying around." Bofur stated, kicking at the gold with his feet.

"Anyone could take it."

"Agreed. Nori."

"Yeah?"

"Get a shovel." Brandy rolled her eyes at the Dwarves, still uncomfortable with their current location, and glanced around at everyone else, gladly tearing away her gaze from the mutilated corpses.

Dwalin was standing a few feet back from Thorin, who was gaping at some cobweb covered swords. Gandalf was poking at things with his staff, and she assumed the other Dwarves were outside the cave, where they could breathe properly. The Hobbit watched as Thorin pulled out two of the weapons, musing over then.

"These swords were not made by any Troll," he said, making the Wizard turn to him. Thorin handed one of to the tall man, and then ogled at the one he had held onto.

"Nor were they made by any smith among men..." Brandy watched as Gandalf pulled the sword out of its' sheath, blowing away the dust. The Hobbit was curious about the swords, and decided to take a step closer. She wished she hadn't, for when she did, Brandy heard a squish under her foot, along with the crunch of something she hoped wasn't bones. She shivered and picked her foot back up, her hands raised to her sides, fingers stiff, a disgusted look crossing her feature.

"Oh, eww..." she whined, finding what looks vaguely like half-decayed hand.

She half-heard something about Elves, and looked up when Gandalf raised his voice.

"You could not wish for a finer blade." She watched as Thorin unsheathes the sword, and was mesmerised by the clean cut and shiney-ness of it. What? She likes shiny things, was that a crime?

Thorin walked past Nori, Bofur and Gloin, who were pushing dirt over a small chest they had filled with the treasures of the Troll-hoard, which made Brandy scoff a little, seeing Dwalin's face almost made up for the smell.

"We're making a long-term deposit." Gloin explained, making the partially bald Dwarf roll his eyes.

"Let's get out of this fowl place." Thorin grumbled, heading for the exit, "Come one, let's go."

"Don't hav ta tell me twice," Brandy exclaimed, hopping slightly as she followed him, her eyes trained on the ground.

"Bofur, Gloin, Nori."

The three Dwarves followed behind the Hobbit, but she stopped when she noticed they were missing one.

"Coming Gandalf?" She asked, poking her head back in to gaze at the wizard.