When factoring the votes over on Pee a Ron (heh, finding new ways of mentioning that site is kind of amusing now that I think about it) it was in the lead right up until I added in a few latecomers, so I had it mostly written anyway. The totals for the winner and the runner up were: 256 votes here on fanfic and 300 there,A Fate Touched in Middle Earth total, 556. Semblance of hope only took in 129 points here, but it racked in 460 points giving it a total of 589. This is easily the closest first and second place winners I've seen for month hence why I had this chapter prepared and ready to go. I will try to get Semblance of hope out with A Third Path but we'll see.

Regarding A Third Path: I have it mostly written bar a few world building moments and the initial scenes with Hela, Harry and Emma meeting in Niflheim and what occurs there. Those scenes are extremely important going forward, and I have a beta reader I have used in the past for all things Asgardian/Asatru related - a LOT of the stuff regarding the Althing was from him in the last chapter. As such I won't be putting the chapter out until we are both happy with those segments, and the, call it the feel of Hela's turmoil and the action going on. I hope to put it out by the end of the month, but refuse to make any promises.

This has been betaed by ultimaflare0.

Anyway, without further ado here is the next chapter of Fate Touched:

Chapter 3: A journey Begins and Hits a Pothole

Snarling and growling filled the clearing around the former den of orcs and goblins, all of it coming from a force of short, wiry looking orcs on top of giant wolves, or wargs as they were known. There should have been a force of upwards of a hundred mixed goblins and orcs here, but instead the group of scouts and messengers found nothing.

Their leader was a head taller than any of the others, though just as wiry, wearing black iron armor with spikes and cruel hooks sticking out of it here and there. He stared at the ruins of the small cave system which had housed the small tribe of their fellows here, then around.

Kneeling down to examine the ground, the orc picked up a small trail leading away from the remains of a pyre. Moving quickly into the woods with his warg he forced the giant wolf's head down to the ground. An instant later it lifted its head and howled.

The orc smiled at that confirmation though he continued to look around, wondering. Their quarry had been a part of this, but how had at best only two people done all this? And why in the world had there been so many animal scents scattered around the clearing, but no trace of them out in the woods? Something odd had occurred here, and it made the orc's skin crawl.

Regardless, his war band had a task given to them by the White Orc himself, and they had at last picked up the trail of their quarry once more.

OOOOOOO

Hours had gone past and Gandalf and Harry were sitting where they had been from the first, smoking on their pipes as they stared up into the starry sky. Gandalf had gone through his entire supply of pipe weed for a week in the space of a single night between them, though Harry had more often than not simply used his smoking to slow down the conversation than out of actual enjoyment.

"An entire school for learning magic, I can scarce believe that, let alone the rest of it. Though my mind keeps coming back to that single fact for some reason," Gandalf mused, smoking on the last few puffs worth of his current pipe full. "Yet your words have the ring of truth to them, and it would be even odder indeed if every world was like to Arda."

"And I can scarce believe that this world was entirely created by magical beings. Oh, we have our own creation myths but as far as I know there was never any evidence behind them, only belief." Harry waved a hand that held his own pipe at present, the smoke of curling and twisting into the dark sky.

Harry had no idea if this Eru Iluvatarhad also created his world, or the blackness between worlds where he and Tom had battled was this Void. Gandalf however was certain it was. He had taken the existence of another world in stride, far more in stride than he had taken the idea of an entire hidden society of magic users. That and the number of times the adults in Harry's world had stood back and let him handle the issues coming his way was utterly bizarre to him.

He was also certain that one of the Aratar, one of the eight greatest Valar, had opened the door to let Harry and his foe through. But he could not guess as to who had sensed them in the Void, let alone made the decision to let them through to this world. Whoever it was took a heinous chance if so, but it seems to have succeeded. But there again, since Morgoth is also imprisoned within the Void, they might have decided to take the chance rather than to let him meet this Dark Lord of Harry's.

Gandalf's lips twisted into a snarl of fury that none of his friends would ever have thought he could show. Riddle himself had not awoken that fury, the same fury he had lost control of at one point to the detriment of a stretch Bilbo's garden. No, it had been Dumbledore and the others adults in Harry's life which had touched off Gandalf's ire.

Teachers who would not help their students were anathema to Gandalf, but it had been Dumbledore and his inaction which had infuriated Gandalf the Grey to the point where he lost control of his own magic. The very idea of someone who thought himself wise yet was willing to let others, let alone a child, pay the price for his own choices and decisions was simply evil in his mind.

"You're going to have to do something about that. Heh, reminds me how I once blew up my aunt once when she badmouthed my parents in front of me during my third year at Hogwarts. Blew up like a balloon she did, the Obliviators were busy that day." Harry said now, once more waving his conjured pipe, this time at the portion of Bilbo's garden which had been the inadvertent target of Gandalf's ire. The scars on his hands once more caught the eye, though not as much as what he gestured to.

A section of the garden about as wide as Gandalf was tall had been flattened by his magic. It looked as if a monstrous weight had suddenly descended onto the area, but from what Harry had been able to tell it had been some kind of wind attack. No word or gesture had accompanied that attack, and it had felt like a very low level spell in comparison to Gandalf's sheer aura of power at the time, but the effect was beyond Harry's expectations.

Looking away Gandalf puffed on his pipe again instead of replying. As primarily a follower of Manwe lord of the Sky and his wife Varda, most of Gandalf's powers came from lightning, air, with quite a bit of far seeing and speaking thrown in from Varda's teachings. "You make fun of it now Harry Potter, but your world, it seems as broken as mine own in many ways. In Arda the flaws were built in by Melkor and his attempts to manipulate the Ainulindalëwhich opened the door for the corruption of mortals of all sorts and the very earth beneath our feet."

The Quenya, or High Elven, name for the Song of Creation rolled off Gandalf's tongue, hanging in the air with an almost otherworldly note to it. Harry noted this, and wondered about that and about how Gandalf spoke about the events of the Ages, not as if he had seen them, but as if he had spoken to many who had. There was even more to Gandalf than his simply being a powerful wizard, or servant of the Secret Fire, as he put it, there was something buried beneath his physical body

"Whereas my world is broken as you put it by the inherent corruption and sheep-like tendency of wizards?" Harry asked, his smile disappearing despite his words, keeping his thoughts on Gandalf to himself.

Gandalf had seemed enthralled by Harry's tale of his world, just as Harry had about the history of this world and what magic was like here. Yet as the story continued Gandalf had become grimmer and grimmer, asking questions about the adults in Harry's life and their inaction, delving deeper than Harry had anticipated into his own motivations and the 'muggle world' too.

"You'll forgive me my young friend, but I think that your problems went far deeper than even the bigotry you and your… best friend noticed." Gandalf had paused before changing the words he used there at the end, and even so he noticed Harry twitch at the words.

Yes, there is grief there, a deep fissure in the youth's emotional strength that has yet to heal. Gandalf wanted desperately to introduce Harry to Galadriel, feeling that she could help Harry heal far better than he or even Elrond would be able to. And Harry did need to be healed, less his fey attitude lead him to his doom.

"The problem is complacency," Gandalf said aloud, once more setting that thought aside. "Your wizarding society seemed to use magic for everything, relying on it to the point it became every day. And thus you lose the wonder, the delight of it. You stop striving to understand the world around you or the magic within it."

"Whereas here, not only is magic not an everyday thing, but you can feel magic all around you just out of sight if you have the ability to sense it at all." Harry mused. No wonder the magic here is so prevalent but so weirdly wild. Harry all too easily remembered how much it took out of him to try and couldn't control the wind, or transfigure the ground. The magics of Manwe ran through them as the power of the other Valar did through everything else. Thus conjuration is far easier than transfiguration. Still runes will no doubt prove relatively easy.

On the other hand Harry had been just as horrified by the idea of Morgoth as Gandalf had been infuriated by his own tale of the adults in his life. Hearing about how he was purportedly a fallen demi-god from Thorin had been very different from speaking to Gandalf, who made that history come alive.

"And so this Great Shadow created whole races to be dark mirrors of other life. And created dragons too…" he said aloud, changing the subject somewhat. "Dragons who sound as like to the dragons of my world as lions are to cats." He chuckled wanly. "And then there is this Sauron, the lesser shadow as you put it."

"Yet all too effective," Gandalf nodded, looking at the younger man. The tales of Middle Earth were rarely joyful affairs due to Morgoth and his machinations. Sauron and his doings, while indeed lesser than his master's, were just as fell. "His voice and wit was just as much a weapon as his legions, and far more effective at times."

"How many people can feel magic? I'm not talking about manipulating it themselves, but feeling when magic is being used, you mentioned that earlier." Harry asked.

"All elves to a certain extent can feel magic in their vicinity, though the distance varies wildly from one group to another, and in this Age most elves would not particularly care to leave their forests or harbors to search out any new feeling on the wind. Some dwarves can, but only through their hands, through touch, and even then it is muted at best. Their rune carvers can do some manipulation along the lines of feeling out their runes. They didn't use pick and chisel you know, but their very fingers."

At Harry's incredulous look Gandalf chuckled. "Oh yes, I recall watching a few of them at work in the past, when dwarves were slightly more free with their secrets. I watched a rune-scribe at work in return for aiding his family with some healing, and it was magnificent to watch the power flowing as they worked it into the very stone. They wear copper covered gloves with pointed talons over their fingers to carve out the runes.

"Dwarves, like elves, are inherently magical to a certain extent and while they cannot use it like most elves, they can use that power to begin the process of powering runes. Then as they do so the power starts to glow along the rune's lines, like bright molten fire as the stone itself hums with the connection the dwarves have with it." Gandalf shook his head. "Ah, the wonders of the dwarven halls were said to rival the greatest of Elven works. Perhaps when all is said and done, Erebor will be so once again."

So saying Gandalf returned to Harry's question. "And older orcs can sense magic in the vicinity. Goblins cannot, but orcs; in particular orcs from Mordor can do so."

Gandalf cocked his head thoughtfully as he looked at the young man beside him The two of them had merely covered a sort of overview of one another's lives and worlds at this point. There were still questions to be asked, but that would have been true if they sat and talked for days rather than a single night. They had spoken enough however to get a feel for one another, especially in Gandalf's case to Harry. "So, it is my turn for a question my young friend. I think we have covered enough of the past for now, let us speak of the present and the future. You have agreed to aid Thorin and his company out of friendship's sake, and knowing now how important friendship is too you I do not doubt your word. But I have to ask, what will you do if we succeed? Will you try to return to your world, or would you be happy to stay here?"

"I…" Harry paused thinking as he turned away to look up at the nighttime sky, unwilling to give Gandalf a flippant answer, not when he looked at you with those deep, dark eyes of his. More effective than Dumbledore's twinkling for damned certain. "I do not think I would be happy there, too, too many memories." Harry's teeth clenched on the pipe in his mouth for a moment, and his emerald eyes darkened before Harry moved around the roiling emotions his own words had evoked.

Then the dark emotions were gone and Harry's emerald eyes sparkled with amusement. "Besides I've always been the adventurous sort, so this world and what it can represent interests me a lot."

Shaking his shaggy head Gandalf had to chuckle at that. "Young ones always should have a desire to see what is on the other side of the river, or beyond the next bend. That adventurous nature is the only way we can grow."

"Oooh wise words from the man in the grey cloak," Harry quipped. Looking at the ancient, and Gandalf was a hell of a lot older than he appeared, he had been open about that, wizard Harry wondered if he would get a straight answer on this one. "Why did you decide to come to the Shire searching for a thief, specifically Bilbo Baggins? You had no idea about the hobbit's ability to cleanse objects with their presences or work, so it had to be something else."

This was a test, Gandalf realized. Up to here they had been talking about generalities, the past and magic, nothing really to do with Gandalf's task, or his place in Thorin's company. Harry's friendship might be new, but it was genuine, and Harry wanted to make certain that Gandalf's decision to bring in Bilbo would truly add to the group's chance of success.

Then too, the boy has been lied to in the past, and used sorely, Gandalf thought, his hand clenching on his pipe for a moment as the wind picked up around them before he regained control of himself. He no doubt dislikes half-truths and dissembling, and alas both my age and overall looks are still against me.

Gandalf suddenly had to bite back a chuckle wondering how Harry would get on with his friend Saruman. Wise and powerful and even personally courageous Saruman was, but he liked to keep his own council, was somewhat arrogant and at times spoke in half-truths, which Harry would detest. Keeping secrets about himself was fine, but not anything that could endanger Harry or his friends. Oil and water, methinks.

"For one thing, Hobbits are very good at sneaking around." Gandalf began. "They downplay it, but they are very, very good at it. If a hobbit puts his minds to it he could climb a tree and not disturb a squirrel, as is said in the Shire. But more, I have always enjoyed my time with the little ones."

He paused, thinking and looking out over the darkened Shire, this land of little homes, farms and people which had once been dead, barren land. "I have watched them rise to the challenge before at times, and watching them so gives me courage, that such little people are able to face the task ahead of them. I could not tell you why I was so interested in them in the first place, I felt… drawn you might say."

Harry's eyes narrowed, but Gandalf merely blew out a smoke ring that looked like a ship for a moment then a bit of breeze blew it off over the night and out of sight. He could be open about much to a fellow wizard, but his true nature and his connection to Manwe and his wife were not things he could share with any mortal.

Before Harry could say anything he spoke again. "Or are you really asking me what I am doing aiding the dwarves at all in this quest?"

"That was part of my thinking yes. I think you're a good man Gandalf, but I also don't think you're involved in this quest for any reason that has to deal with the dwarves or friendship or Erebor." Harry's eyes locked on Gandalf's own for a moment. "Or are you simply worried about this Smaug, and what it could do?"

"The dragon is part of it." Gandalf drew in a breath then decided to open up to this young wizard, hoping not only to put Harry at ease, but perhaps to gain an ally in the greater struggle Gandalf could see coming even if no one else wished to. "I told you of why my Order was sent into Middle Earth. Part of that is to battle those who would use dark magics to their own ends. One such is a mortal wizard called the Necromancer, who has taken residence near Mirkwood in Dol Goldur. He has been gathering fell things to his service, and I fear what such a one could do if he could somehow convince Smaug to join him. Dragons are too powerful for any in this age to deal with easily, and whole nations could be burned by dragon fire before it could be felled."

"Ah. And you hope to find proof the dragon is dead, or deal with it before that happens." Harry nodded, understanding and happy that Gandalf was being so open with him. "Thank you for answering my questions Gandalf, it, it means a lot that you are open with me. But now I think it's your turn."

"Ahh then let us turn to happier things!" Gandalf exclaimed, beaming at Harry. "Tell me about these charms or yours. What can they do, and what of this Professor Flitwick, he sounded like a most interesting fellow."

The two of them continued to talk until the sun began to glimmer in the distance, speaking through the night of magic, of happy moments or places Gandalf had seen, and of pranks Harry had played or been a part of. It was a pleasant time for them both and neither could have said they noticed the passage of time at all until they began to hear birdsong and see the glimmering of sunlight on the horizon.

That sight brought to mind something Gandalf had been meaning to ask. "By the way, what did you mean by twinkling eyes? I assume it was in reference to some kind of spell or other?"

"I wouldn't put it past the man to use a spell for that purpose, but Dumbledore always had these twinkling eyes whenever he talked to me alone or was trying to get someone to see his point of view. You might say I've developed a phobia toward it, that, garish clothing and the term the greater good." Harry replied, yet again hiding his serious thoughts underneath humor.

"Bah, the greater good is made of the lesser goods all piled together. I will not say sacrifice is not necessary in the pursuit of victory over the dark, but I would be willing to sacrifice myself before asking anyone to do so beside me. I put my own welfare where my words are my young friend, as you will no doubt see at some point along our journey."

Harry looked at Gandalf for a long moment, then he simply nodded and they turned to stare out over the Shire as the sun continued to rise.

OOOOOOO

Bilbo woke up at the crack of dawn, not something he was used to but his dreams had been disturbing to say the least. Dreams of blood, the clashing of steel on anvil, the crackling of fire and of dwarven voices raised in a lament of such loss that it would make a stone weep. Sighing Bilbo slipped out of bed, moving around Bag End with the ease of long practice, easily avoiding the dwarves. This was made all the easier by the fact several of them were snoring fit to wake the dead. Good grief, bless me if that isn't the most horrifying symphony of the age.

Eventually he found his way to the kitchen where he discovered he wasn't the first up. Thorin and Balin were up already, sitting at the tiny kitchen table poring over a map and a list of some kind. Looking over their shoulders Bilbo noticed that the list seemed to be of different supplies, far too much to be carried even by so doughty a group as the dwarves. "You have ponies then I suppose?"

Both dwarves started, and Thorin half turned, his hand dropping to where his sword was presently propped up alongside the table before stopping scowling at the hobbit. "You have very soft feet Mr. Baggins."

"Indeed lad I'd have thought with these wooden floors sneaking up on someone would be impossible. I suppose Tharkun was right to think you a good scout and thief." Balin said, shaking his head, but his tone was noticeably more welcoming than the younger, far more intense dwarf.

"Yes, well, it helps that your fellows are snoring down Bag End at present. Nor do I think it would be that hard to sneak up on you even if you were ready for it. You dwarves and your large metal boots," Bilbo chuckled moving over to the sink to find all the dishes done. "Ah bless your friends for this." So saying he turned to look at the two dwarves, breathed in once then asked quickly, "So how long would you estimate I would be away?"

"You're really thinking of signing up with us Bilbo?" Balin asked his eyes wide behind the glasses he had been using to read the list of supplies.

"I, yes. Yes I am." Bilbo replied his voice uncertain but his eyes clear as he nodded.

Thorin frowned, pulling at his beard as he looked at the so-called burglar cum scout and possible… he wasn't certain what term to describe the last task Mr. Baggins might be suited for. He remembered what Bilbo had said hobbits could do about cleansing the taint of things, and Bilbo's ability to sneak around was obvious. He could possibly be an aid in many ways, if he wasn't as soft as Thorin feared looking at him.

But even so there was one question Thorin wanted answered. "Why? I can understand why we might need the help, but why do you wish to help us? I can tell by this hobbit hole that you are well off; you have no need of coin. Your wanderlust is long gone by your own words. So why agree to come with us, even knowing we will be journeying into danger?"

Bilbo stared back levelly, feeling courage welling up within him somehow now that he had finally voiced a decision he had made last night despite his words about needing to think about it. "That's right I am well off, and I love my home. I cannot imagine what it would be like to lose it, let alone through violence and death. But you don't have to imagine it, you saw it firsthand. You have no homes to go to, no Bag End, no Shire."

Still staring into Thorin's eyes Bilbo smiled. "But I will help you regain your home if I can. And I think, like Mr. Potter said, if this is the adventure of my lifetime, the only one to come to me then I will grasp it with both hands."

Returning the stare from the hobbit Thorin slowly nodded, holding out his hand and shaking Bilbo's hand once, respect in his face now rather than the disdain he had first shown Bilbo last night. He was still uncertain about the hobbit's physical mettle but was willing to give Baggins the benefit of the doubt now. "Do you know ought about weapons Mr. Baggins?"

"I will need training in swordsmanship, but I can get a good hobbit bow and quiver if I leave now." Bilbo grinned suddenly. "I was a dab shot at one point in my youth, until I nearly parted my father's hair with an arrow. That was the end of that alas."

The two dwarves chuckled at that image, and Bilbo went on. "I need to make certain someone watches Bag End for me in any event. I have rather… irksome relatives who might attempt to move in if I do not."

"Ahh." Thorin nodded, understanding that concept easily enough. He loved his sister and his nephews, and even his cousin Dain, but some of his more distant kin had made their disdain for their suddenly homeless relatives plain often enough that had they not been kin Thorin would have declared blood feud. As it was, Dain had made it clear neither group was welcome to come within a league of one another. "We will be leaving within the hour, but if you wish, you may catch us up on the main road out of the Shire."

"Let me sign up officially first then I'll change and be on my way." Bilbo replied, still smiling.

Balin quickly brought out the same contract as Bilbo had seen last night at that, smiling at the courage the little hobbit was showing, though internally questioning his choice just as much as Thorin. After asking a few questions about the wording and in particular the type of remuneration (jewels versus worked jewelry or gold coins) Bilbo signed his name under where Harry had done so the night before, formally joining the company.

Moments later Bilbo walked out of the door with a bag of clothing on his back, dropping it by the two wizards who looked up at him, eyebrows raised all around as they looked at him and he realized the two humans had been out here all night. "I signed," he said simply. "I need to go pick up something from the Thain's house however before we leave."

"Happy to have you Mr. Baggins," Harry said standing up and clapping the short hobbit on the shoulder as Gandalf beamed behind him.

A few moments later found Bilbo walking to the Westfarthing into the Tooklands and up to the Thain's house. Several farmers were already at work in their fields by this point, and more than one of the extended Took clan were out and about. Isumbras, the leader of the sprawling family was sitting out on his patio, talking firmly to a few of his younger relatives, who raced off as Bilbo walked up. "Well, a top of the morning to you kinsman," the older hobbit said, his voice gravelly his eyes shrewd. "And what brings a Baggins out and about this early. Or are you here as a Took instead?"

The Tooks, as had been seen in Bilbo's mother, always had a bit of wildness to them, a bit less common sense and more wanderlust. The Baggins had been known for generations as the most staid if learned of hobbits, and Bilbo's father had been no exception, though Belladonna his mother had more than made up for that. She had been a wild thing in her youth according to her surviving siblings, of which Isumbras was the oldest.

"Er, you might say I'm here as a Took sir. I am going to be going on a bit of an adventure. I was hoping to pick up the bow my mother bought me, and to ask you to have someone look after my home for me." Bilbo replied, touching his forelock respectfully.

Even today in this time of peace and plenty the Tooks and the Brandybucks were treated with respect by smaller families. The two clans were the most wild and willful of hobbits at times, so much so they were at times looked at askance by the rest of the Shire, but they were strong and sturdy and above all dependable. Their members made up a large portion of the bounders and few sheriffs, and the oldest male Took was the Thain, leader of the Shire in times of danger and the commander of its muster.

Isumbras looked at Bilbo for a moment, his eyes shrewd. "I saw my old friend Gandalf yesterday, had a thought something might be up. Glad to see you showin' a bit of Bella's fire. Let's head inside then, and I'll see if I can find that old bow. And you'll need to sign a contract for someone to watch your home."

That took some time, but eventually the two of them had written up a contract for the Tooks to watch over Bag End for two years. If Bilbo was gone for longer than that, the property would become Took property to do with as they may. The contract was witnessed by the mayor of the nearest town and Hamfast Gamgee, who would be retained to look over the garden at Bag End as he had been for years.

It might have been talking to Hamfast or it might have been the fact the sun was well into the sky, but as Bilbo was walking up to the entrance to Bag End, where the dwarves and the two humans were now all ready to be off, Bilbo could not help but notice what had happened to a portion of his garden. "Gandalf, whatever happens to my rose bushes? Or that poor tree? Or the grass around them!?"

OOOOOOO

Passing through the Shire had been easy going of course, though Bilbo had a moment of laughter seeing Harry on a pony. The human might be somewhat short for his race, or rather but even so he was too tall to look right on a pony. Especially one bought in the Shire because none of the other dwarves had realized they would be adding two people to their company rather than one before his and Thorin's arrival.

For his part Harry had merely shrugged saying, "I've never been on a horse at all so while I imagine I look funny like this, I'd be a laugh out riot falling off a horse."

"Hmm, we might need to do something about that at some point my young friend." Gandalf murmured. "In this land you need to know how to use a horse or build up calluses on your feet enough to make even a Hobbit blush in envy."

As they left the Shire behind however, the sky darkened, and within a few leagues it began to rain. It was not a torrential downpour but a slow steady rain, the kind that was quite content to stay around all day. "Master wizards, can one of you do something about this rain?" Bilbo asked, now remembering why he had stopped wandering around the Shire so often.

"Alas no Mr. Baggins, no wizard can control the weather." Gandalf replied.

"I'd really rather not try to even keep the rain off us, not after how much it took me to even generate a breeze a few days ago." Harry said, shaking his head. "I have no desire to bring this Manwe's ire on me for attempting that again."

"A sign of wisdom from such a young man, it is enough to bring a smile to this weathered face of mine," Gandalf replied, and the two of them chuckled.

At that point Fili and Kili moved up the column to either side of Harry. They had enjoyed talking to him the day before, and wanted to talk to him more about pranks. They also wanted to know how he seemed to have gotten under their uncle's armor of anger and hauteur too.

Harry told them and the others listening, about the Marauders, the group his father had been a part of, as well as his friends George and Fred, going into detail on some of the pranks he had seen them play. Hearing this Kili replied by telling Harry about a time they had pranked their mother and father, and Fili told about their aborted attempts to prank Thorin when he stayed with them in the Blue Mountains.

Wincing at the memory Thorin turned in his saddle from where he was leading the party. "I realize I can't make you three stop your pranking but I'll have your agreement all three of you not to attempt anything that would lose someone sleep or slow our travel."

"Agreed," said Fili and Kili as one, while Harry merely nodded his head.

After that the ice was truly broken and the dwarves began to talk more freely amongst themselves and with their new travel companions. Bifur, Oin and Balin struck up a conversation with Bilbo, while Dwalin, Fili, Kili and Thorin talked with Gandalf and Harry about swordwork and combat magics. Gandalf was somewhat reticent beyond saying he was good with a sword and preferred to use as little magic as possible outside of light spells or lightning, while Harry was more eclectic and "I know my swordwork needs work."

That evening the company pulled off the road into a clear area around a tiny stream. Bilbo volunteered to scout around for game as the others set up camp, digging out a fire pit, warming water and setting up sentry posts. Coming back with two hares taken on the bow Bilbo found the dwarves had even laid out his bedroll, Bifur and Oin had taken control of the fire pit. He handed his rabbits over, jerking his head to the side to indicate where Dwalin was glaring daggers at Bombur.

Chuckling Oin explained. "Bombur's not allowed near the cooking fires until called, else none of the rest of us would get anything."

Nodding at that Bilbo sat down by the fire, stretching out his bare feet to the fire for a moment to see if they would warm up slightly. Hobbits never wore shoes, so their feet had to stand any amount of punishment both from the pounding of their steps and the weather. But that didn't mean Bilbo had to like how soaked and dirty they were at the moment.

Nearby Harry sat on a large rocky outcropping with Thorin as Gandalf, Dwalin and Balin stood in front of them. The two of them went into greater detail about the orcish camp the two had destroyed, including the lead up to that battle for the first time. "Azog, you sure he mentioned Azog by name lad?" Balin asked, staring at Thorin.

Thorin nodded grimly and the two brothers cursed volubly. "Curse his soul, how did Azog survive the war!?" Dwalin asked.

"You mentioned this Azog before, but war, what war?" Harry asked, looking between the three of them.

"We call it the War of Dwarves and Orcs, six years of bloody fighting from one underground stronghold to another in the Misty Mountains north to South." Balin said, shaking his head. "We shattered their power, but we couldn't wipe them out or retake our ancient halls of Khazad Dum, we simply didn't have the numbers at the time, and the last battle was a seesaw affair that ended in our favor by the slimmest margins."

Dwalin grunted. "If Azog survived he'll no doubt still be a powerful chieftain, and he'll be after you for taking his arm Thorin. We'll have to be on the lookout for orcs going forward."

"In that case, can we start training now? Every little bit helps after all." Harry asked standing up from the rock he'd been sitting on and taking out the sword of Gryffindor.

"Aye, that's the best thing we can do at this point. Be on the lookout and prepare," Thorin replied, moving over to his pack to pull out his own blade.

Sword practice with Thorin was a revelation for Harry, despite having been given some verbal instructions and critiques. Thorin was shorter than Harry, but he was almost as quick and massively strong. Each time Harry blocked or tried to redirect Thorin's blade the blow smashed him like a hammer, numbing Harry's hands and arms. Thorin disdained trying to explain sword styles or footwork, instead brutally pushing Harry as hard as he could, building up experience and body memory.

Eventually Fili and Kili turned from their own work around the camp to join the practice, both of them taking on Thorin when Thorin decided to get Dwalin to take his place. Dwalin learned quickly that Harry despite being a scrawny human was fast enough to make up for his lack of strength, and fought dirty too. Not that Dwalin had a problem with that. Indeed he thought it a good thing to see.

However Harry in turn learned something very important: dwarves had incredibly hard heads. At one point Harry had redirected one of Dwalin's paired axes, simple but incredibly well designed and balanced weapons,he called Grasper and Keeper, into the ground. The other came down, trying to cut at Harry, but he blocked it high before Dwalin could get too into the blow.

Knowing he couldn't keep the axe there for long against his opponent's greater strength and knowing the first axe was now free Harry then tried for a headbutt to gain some of the initiative. Dwalin had no chance to set himself but after their foreheads slammed together it was Harry who saw stars, falling to his rear. "Argh, wh, what the hell, since when did you have a helmet on?"

Dwalin bellowed in laughter as the nearby dwarves who had seen what occurred all chuckled at the human's misstep. "Let that teach ya Harry, never try to headbutt a dwarf!"

"Urgh… I feel like I just had a concussion. Mead's good for that right?" Harry asked, wobbling in place, to the laughter of the dwarves even as Balin refused to give the human any more of his precious stash.

OOOOOOO

The next day, Harry and the dwarves made good time, despite the fact that the rain continued to fall, crossing half again as many leagues as they had the day before. They cross the entirety of the Breelands, unwilling to stop there. They rested within sight of the last few farms of those lands and moved off quickly the next day, with Thorin and Gandalf in the lead.

The party began to fall into a natural division of labor both while moving and at camp. They would break at around noon. At Harry's suggestion Bilbo began to use this time to range around them, silent and unseen before coming back and rejoining the column as they were ready to go, usually with a squirrel or rabbit to aid to the company's fare. Oin and Bofur took over cooking, while Ori and Nori would look after the ponies.

While moving Thorin and Gandalf would be in the lead, with Harry and Kili, Fili, or Dwalin at the back of the column. Harry had quickly learned that those three, along with Thorin himself, were the best warriors in the company, with Gloin, Bifur and Bofur being the next tier of warriors. Whichever warriors were not assigned their back trail or up front with would be set to the side of the main column, watching their flanks. The dwarves rotated through that task but at least one of the better warriors was always somewhere ready and armed. After Harry and Thorin's news about the orcs no one was willing to take any chances.

The other dwarves had other talents, including the fat Bombur who apparently was the wealthiest among them, a financier or money lender or some such in the Blue Mountains. Most of the ponies had belonged to Bofur, who was the owner of a pony stud farm near the lands of something called the Gap of Rohan a land mostly of men rather than dwarves. Dori was a dwarven healer and herbalist who could look after their mount's ailments as well as he could the dwarves, having worked on Bofur's farm.

One thing all the dwarves had was a level of physical toughness Harry had only seen matched in Hagrid. All of them continually wore chain mail under their cloaks, and even though he knew nothing about such things Harry could tell the armor was plain but of excellent quality for all of them, with Thorin's being the best. They also could carry as much as the pack animals, routinely taking several hours a day to give the ponies a break, marching alongside them wearing packs that had to weigh more than Harry as if they were nothing.

The dwarves also shared another thing: a deep undercurrent of grief based upon what they had suffered at the hands of Smaug. Of them all only the three youngest Fili, Kili, and Ori, were too young to remember Erebor, despite it having been sacked 200 years ago. All of three had been born after the sack, though Ori by a bare few years during the time the people of Erebor were still scattered and weak. And all three had grown up on stories of their stolen halls and wealth.

Every one of the others could remember it. They all could remember the names and faces of hundreds of dwarves who died, the smell of the burning, the blood and fire. It remained in their memories seared there like a brand on their souls. The years after had made their marks too, but it was from the fall of Erebor that their anguish sprang.

The dwarves in turn learned about their two new companions, and surprisingly Thorin. Bilbo was not a natural early riser, but as the days went on he seemed to get into the pace far faster than a similarly out of shape dwarf would have. Indeed Bombur and Oin complained far more about the early mornings then Bilbo. The hobbit was also just as silent and good at sneaking around as he had said he was. He and Balin made a game of it at every lunchtime stop, the old dwarf trying to spot the hobbit as he came back from his hunts. Bilbo was also as literate and learned as he could be, arguing points of history with Gandalf, speaking about ancient Elven tales in that tongue, and even knew a smattering of dwarfish, enough to have learned some of their ancient ballads. He and Dori and Nori became close friends over trying to translate a few hobbit drinking songs.

Harry in turn was intelligent but unlearned in anything dealing with trail-craft or history beyond what he had learned from discussion with Thorin and Gandalf, though he was a very good cook and pitched in as one every lunch. Every evening he would practice swordplay with Thorin or one of the others. He was open about the world he had come from, only asking for an even exchange of information, something the dwarves, reticent about themselves and their recent past, had trouble with at times. But they were more willing to talk about their culture and the works of their ancestors, which was enough to appease Harry's questions.

They also learned however that there were things that would set Harry to brooding for a brief second after which he would become even more outgoing, joking and jocular. None of them questioned this, they all had bits and pieces of their past they didn't wish to talk about, and in that Harry fit in easily. Only Balin noticed the true source of this sadness, but put off talking with the human about it for now until they became closer.

His friendship with Thorin also seemed to have somehow thawed him, that first impression the others had gotten proving true over the days on the trail. The two of them often stayed up later than the others, talking quietly about leadership, Harry having gotten a taste of this during his time as leader of the Defense Association and Thorin having been raised to it.

Fili and Kili bonded with Harry over pranks, and being the youngest in the party, indeed all the others had to force themselves at times to remember that despite how young Harry was for his people he was a blooded warrior. Dwalin and Gloin bonded with him over swordwork and drinks. Balin joined Thorin quickly in becoming interested in Harry's runes and what they could mean in the long term, though Gandalf had warned Harry about keeping the magic use to a minimum outside of combat for now.

All in all both of the non-dwarves molded themselves into the company with relative ease.

On the fifth day out from the Shire, Gandalf began to lead the party away from the East Road. The Great East Road wound north out of their way into the ruined lands of Arnor and given their concerns about orcs it was a bad idea to head into that blighted land anyway. Instead they would make for a straight line towards the Misty Mountains, a huge range of mountains between their starting point and the Lonely Mountain, saving them nearly three weeks.

Once they rejoined the East Road they would follow it until met the High Pass. This was the only real pass through the mountains, hewn, according to Gandalf, by Orome of the Valar in the First Age. There was some argument between Thorin and Gandalf about that bit of the route but it hadn't been brought out into the open yet, so Harry had no idea what it might be about. The rest of the journey on the other side of the Mountains was still a matter for debate.

A bare week later they rejoined the East Road and after crossing a river called the Hoarwell their route started to go up into a series of tiny hills before they got to the real mountains, which Gandalf expertly said was within six days distance or so. They would soon need to start skirting north along them, having no wish to head straight up into the mountains.

They were barely out of sight of the river when they surprisingly came upon an abandoned farm. It was just a little ways off the road, but Fili, ranging ahead of the rest of the party to find a place to stop for the evening, spotted it and led the rest of the group to it. Harry and the rest of the company looked around as they were led into the small farm area, noting the outer gate had been knocked down, the house's roof was smashed, and there was a lot of wreckage around scattered around the house.

"What did they farm here, do you think?" Harry asked looking over at Bilbo.

Bilbo frowned looking around, gripping his hobbit bow tightly in one hand, his other dropping to his quiver. "I would think sheep or perhaps goats? No cows and certainly no produce. This soil is not the best for such," he said authoritatively, his bare toes wiggling in said soil for a moment. "But I don't have any idea what could do that to the house."

"This was recent," said Bofur, looking over at Thorin and Gandalf. "The furnishings inside haven't been damaged overmuch by the elements."

"Something smashed that roof from above by the angle," said Kili, looking up at it from underneath for a moment. "Trolls you think?"

"They don't range this far out from the mountains," Thorin said shaking his head.

"Not in days past perhaps but many dark things are on the move these days," Gandalf said frowning darkly. "And while stupid trolls are dangerous opponents."

"Where would they hide during the day?" Thorin asked looking over at Gandalf as Harry mouthed the word 'trolls?'

"Any pre-existing cave would do for that, trolls are better at carving out earth than any other race." Gandalf said with a shrug. "Though if they are still in this area I cannot tell. There are no tracks here…"

Thorin looked over the other dwarves for confirmation but none of them had found anything that looked like fresh tracks either. Unfortunately, it none of them were any good at said activity, not even Bilbo, a fact that surprised many. Harry held up a hand. "These trolls, do they have any inbuilt immunity to direct attack magic Gandalf?"

"It would depend on the variety, hill trolls have but little, mountain trolls and cave trolls much more for their skin is harder like the stone of their environment," Gandalf said, remembering the few times he'd fought trolls. "They are as I said dangerous opponents if they catch you unawares. If not they can be misled or sacred off, they are rather stupid after all."

"Illusion spells then," Harry mused.

As the others began to make camp, Thorin and Gandalf spoke of their route from here on. Thorin wanted to head directly to the High Pass, rest for a half day right before the hills gave way to the mountains, then force march the entire way across the High Pass.

Gandalf however, wanted to skirt around the start of the pass and make for Rivendell, a elven settlement of some sort built into a hidden valley nearby. "There we could gain both more supplies and advice from Elrond himself."

"Ask aid from the elves?" Thorin said spitting the word as if it was a curse word, glaring up at the tall Wizard. "Never!"

"Do not blind yourself to the help he could be," Gandalf began.

"Bah!" Thorin cut him off with a growl. "Help? Where was Elven 'help' when our people needed it, where was the much vaunted kindness of the elves even after the Dragon flew off back to the Lonely Mountain? They could have aided us then without fear of the dragon. But no, they gave us no help even then instead they turned us away! I will never seek help from any elf!"

"Elrond knows how to read moon runes! Without that, how are we supposed to know how to find the hidden door? Or do you think that just because you have two wizards instead of one, you can simply march up to the gates of Erebor and knock on the front door to see if the dragon is alive?" Gandalf asked rather scathingly. "Strength of arms alone is worthless in this quest."

Moving towards the two of them through the camp as all the others began to move away Harry could almost hear Thorin's teeth grind together. "And you think Elrond will just help us out of the goodness of his heart? Do not take me for a fool Gandalf! When have elves ever doneanything for my people! We will find another what person to read the moon runes of my father's map." Thorin said, putting an emphasis on the word 'father's'. "Or perhaps decipher it ourselves. Dori and Balin between them could perhaps learn how to read them."

Gandalf seemed to swell up for a moment. Not like he had during Harry's tale of his life with magical fury, but with simple anger. It was at that point that Harry stepped in. "Gentlemen, can we be civil here please? As for your argument I can see both points," he said as both men looked at him, somewhat angry at his interruption. "Thorin, you can't paint all the elves with the same brush as those of Mirkwood who refused to help your people and closed their borders to you. And Gandalf, you cannot honestly imagine that Thorin will forget that kind of thing. Hundreds if not thousands of his people died because Mirkwood was closed to them and worse that the elves of that realm refused to aid them even with food."

As Harry watched Gandalf's anger dissipated quickly. He looked thoughtful, while Thorin continued to glare at Harry managing only a slow nod of his head. Knowing Thorin was rather stubborn Harry was willing to take what he could get. "If you want my advice Thorin, I would meet with this Elrond, but I would also make certain that he knows ahead of time that while you're willing to listen to advice, nothing he says will stop you from your quest. And you are only there to ask for advice. If he demands some kind of payment, we can turn away then."

Thorin growled again, but nodded his head slightly. "I will consider it," he said looking at Gandalf sternly. "I'll give you my decision tomorrow morning."

Gandalf glared at the dwarf then at Harry as Thorin turned away, marching off to talk to Balin. "Mr. Potter," he said, rather coldly "I would have thought that you would have at the very least attempted to mitigate Thorin's stubbornness!"

"If Thorin wasn't stubborn, none of his people would be alive right now," Harry said grimly. "You haven't heard him talk about the march to the Iron Hills, which would've been much easier if they'd been given aid by the Elves, or entirely unneeded if Mirkwood hadn't been closed to them. You need to remember Gandalf that just because you can look past something doesn't mean other people will, or that they don't have a real reason for their anger. "

Gandalf stared at him for a moment, then nodded abruptly and turned away pulling the tethers of his horse around.

"Gandalf where you going?" Bilbo asked.

"To be by myself Mr. Baggins! I find myself in need of some deep thinking, and I cannot get that surrounded by those who would not know such thoughts from holes in the ground!"

He never noticed Harry's grimness giving way to a smirk. Nor did he see the other wizard stretching a finger out towards Gandalf's back. The young man's other finger flashed out towards Thorin and there was a tiny splash of magic from his fingers.

Thorin looked at Balin quizzically as he gasped then stared, looking down at himself and pulling at his beard to look at the color before turning to glare at Harry. Then he stopped, as several other dwarves began to snicker at Gandalf who was just about to leave the camp, now with neon green hair and beard. Harry shrugged unrepentantly under Thorin's glare as Fili and Kili laughed, coming over to slap him on the shoulders. "That conversation was a little too serious, I thought I couldn't let you stay angry for too long lest it fester," Harry said with a butter would not melt in his mouth expression.

Thorin looked down at his beard then chuckled unwillingly. "I suppose it could be worse, dark red at least reminds me of my cousin Dain."

Harry winced. "I suppose that redheads among dwarves have tempers to match those among humans?"

"Oh yes. Dain is slow to anger admittedly, but once it it's begun his anger is something of a legend among the Iron Hills," Thorin drawled, before turning back to his meal to help the others set up a fire pit well away from the ruins of the house.

OOOOOOO

Gandalf did not return that evening or even that night, and it was a somewhat uneasy camp that started to bed down that night under a moonless sky.

Holding two bowls Bilbo moved through the camp heading towards where he knew Kili and Bofur were on watch over the ponies. He found the two of them staring at the edge of the pasture land that they had set the ponies out into. "What's wrong?" He asked, handing the two bowls of stew to them.

"We went to help the others set up a defensive ring over by the farmstead aimed towards and we just came back. Only now…" Bofur began hesitantly.

Kili went on as Bofur floundered. "We should have fourteen ponies, but we're missing three."

All three of them exchanged glances then scrambled into the pasture, moving through the ponies and out the other side to stare at the edge of the pasture land. It had heretofore been marked by a series of large boulders and downed trees which combined to make a crude but effective fence. One of the downed trees had been moved aside, shoved out of position from the outside by brute force.

"Something very big and very strong moved this," Bilbo muttered, completely pointlessly of course as the other two dwarves could easily see the same thing. Staring out into the darkness, he noticed that a few trees in the forest leaving further up into the hills had also been knocked over. "Something very big, like a troll."

"Then it's a good thing we have a thief and scout here isn't it?" Bofur said, clapping him on the shoulder.

"What do you mean?" Bilbo asked, looking at him skeptically though he feared he already could guess.

"Well, go out there scout around and see what you can find," Kili said somewhat hesitantly.

Bilbo simply stared at him one eyebrow raised. "Somehow I don't think Troll-Finder was in the job description. Still, it is night time out there… Do trolls have good night vision?"

"Not from the tales I've heard, they have horrible day-sight, but no one said anything about having good night vision to go along with having to move around at night." Bofur replied.

Bilbo bit his lip, staring out into the darkness but then nodded slowly. "All right, I'll grab my bow and quiver, you wake up the others. We might need them. If trolls are really out there, I'll try to lead them away or something then we can get the ponies back. If there are too many of them though we might need to be ready to run and cut our losses."

Moments later Harry and Thorin were glaring at Kili and Bofur. "What do you mean you told Bilbo to go out there alone?" Harry asked calmly, his fingers twitching in such a way that worried the young Kili immensely. And judging by his brother's sudden snort of laughter, he had every right to.

"You're looking quite… fair there, brother…" Fili said, chuckling even as he strapped on his chain mail. Kili's hair was now platinum blond and done up in rolling curls. He also had a bright red face. The spell would remain until Harry felt Kili had paid for this bit of thoughtlessness.

"Focus!" Thorin growled, even as his lips twitched at the sight of his cousin. This could be said to be penance for all the times he and his brother have pranked me over the years, though I shan't mention that at present. "Which way did our burglar go?"

Fearing what Harry would do to him Bofur quickly explained what had happened and what Bilbo was planning to do. He did not want to get the same treatment as Kili. This didn't help him however, and his hat, which put Harry in mind of one Hagrid wore in winter, sprouted rabbit ears and changed color to bright kill-me orange.

"Get everyone up and the ponies ready to be off," Thorin order Bombur and Dori, the two dwarves who were the worst in a fight before turning to the others. "Let's get after our burglar."

"Scout at the moment, and I'd suggest we wait nearby just in case," Harry said, holding up his hand. "Remember how silently Bilbo can move, if we just rush in, we might bullocks up his plan. No, let's prepare a little more for this and go quietly if we can. Everyone line up, it's time for some serious magic." I hope these trolls can't sense magic like Gandalf said some orcs can, although maybe I should have thought of that before using magic a few times since we arrived here. Too late now.

With that thought Harry began to cast disillusion charms on the dwarves one after another, along with spells to keep them from being overheard. This took some time, but eventually they were ready to go. Leaving Bombur and Dori behind, the rest of the dwarves and one young wizard moved out into the rocky woodlands.

OOOOOOO

By the time the camp was aroused, Bilbo was already moving through the woods, his bow unstrung in its sheath on its back along with his quiver of arrows. He was moving so silently Harry would have thought that the hobbit had already been silenced, but he wasn't it was just the normal hobbit quiet movement coming out in a far more serious locale than normal. Nor did his bow and quiver get in his way, since Hobbit bow and quivers were special because above all other considerations they were made for stealth.

The quiver was full of either moss or wool so as to muffle any sound of the arrows rattling around. The bow too was kept in a felt covered sheath, until it came time for it to be strung. Of course, all this slowed down the speed with which they could prepare to fire, but hobbits felt that if they were going to sneak around, then it was best they do it properly and as such they would have no business needing to fire quickly.

Hobbit bows were also different than most. They were short of course, as befitted hobbits, but they were also re-curved bows, which gave the bow a lot more stopping power than any bow of a similar size. Made of yew prepared in a secret solution they were also able to bend somewhat more easily than most recurve bows which helped keep the bow silent, a problem than most recurved bows had being much noisier when fired then a normal bow.

Bilbo had never really considered those properties before, but right now he was very thankful for them as he moved through the night, over and underbrush leaving behind no sounds or signal of his passage. Eventually the trail he was following in a roundabout manner through the woods ended at dip in the land protected on two sides by a rocky crag of stone. There was a fire there, and a primitive and small paddock set against the far side of the crag of stone containing the missing ponies. That stone also had a small cleft in it, which cut down into the earth too.

And around the fire were three massive beings which had to be trolls. Bilbo had never seen one before of course, but felt up to giving them that label.

All three trolls were grotesque, huge, fat grey skinned creatures at least three or four stories tall each, with massive hands that looked as if they could pluck Bilbo up as easily as if he was a rabbit. Their gray skin looked thick, they had huge, bulbous noses jutting out and down from between deep set eyes over jutting jowls and not a single hair on their bodies.

From where he was crouched in the darkness Bilbo frowned, ignoring the three trolls seemingly complaining about the sameness of the food they were eating. He wasn't a burglar, not really, but then again I'm not about to try and burgle anything off these three, just get their ponies back. Now, how to go about doing so… he mused, moving further back into the darkness as he recalled the sketchy plan he had shared with Kili and Bofur. Pulling out his bow and an arrow for a moment he contemplated it and the giant trolls. Shaking his head he put both back in their respective places, then looked around thinking.

Thinking hard, he moved through the undergrowth, pulling out some of the spare bow strings that he had bought from the Old Took. With that and a few rocks he began to set up a series of bonkers, small noise making traps that little hobbits were wont to create at the drop of a hat around a hollow tree stump. The rocks would bounce every time the string on them was pulled, and hopefully in this instance grab the troll's attention.

Tying all the string together to a longer piece of rope what was part of all of their camp kits, Bilbo slowly moved away through the brush before crouching down hiding among a few bushes. Once certain he was hidden he pulled on the rope lying slack next to him, listening intently as the bonkers went off.

"'ere, what was that?" Said one of the trolls.

"Somet'ings moving out dere," said the second troll, getting to its feet. "Might be somet'ing tastier then pony!"

"Aye, let's go and see," said the third moving away from the stewpot and the three trolls picked up large clubs and moved in the direction of the noise.

Bilbo tugged on the rope a few more times, making certain that the trolls knew in which direction the noise was coming from before quickly crawling off through the underbrush, then almost running around the incoming trolls towards their camp, relying on his hobbit feet to remain silent.

He reached the troll camp without trouble. Once there he pulled out a tiny knife and began to cut into the sinew of something or other that the trolls were using to keep the paddock closed. Once he had it open he grabbed the ponies' leads trying to shush them as he got them moving while nearby the trolls wandered around the area where Bilbo had set up the bonkers.

He was just out of the firelight when one of the ponies let lose a bray as its fellow kicked up a stone into its leg. At the sound the trolls all turned from where they had been looking around the forest. "'Ere that little thing's tryin' to steal our food!"

"Heh, he looks plump enough to replace it any road! Get it!"

Panicking Bilbo pulled harder at the lead of the ponies, racing through the underbrush away from the trolls who snarled after him.

It was at that point that the rest of the company arrived, moving forward with roars and shouts loud enough to break the spells covering them. "Well done Mr. Baggins!" Thorin bellowed as he raced past towards the trolls with the others at his heels. "Barak Khazad!"

"Tanar Durin Nur!" replied the other dwarves as they howled forward in a mob.

Harry was with them until he slid to a stop, casting several illusion spells over the area, doubling the number of dwarves charging forward. He did this by simply copying the dwarves' looks twice each, then spreading out the copies. But despite suddenly finding themselves surround by near to forty dwarves the Trolls didn't try to run away and instead began to lash out at the dwarves and the illusions.

"Split into groups!" Thorin shouted, closing in on one troll from behind. "Dwalin lead one, I'll lead a second, Fili and Kili the third. Harry, keep conjuring!"

Harry nodded, but his hands were already working into an attack spell, a simple stupefy towards the leading troll to see if Gandalf had been correct about these trolls having some magical immunity like the trolls in his own world.

They do sort of look like them, only about three times the size and apparently somewhat more intelligent, though that's not saying much! The red blast of magic washed over the troll without any apparent reaction, and he cursed before casting a Lumos spell. Light blazed around the small dip in the hills, causing the trolls to rear back in surprise. Unfortunately for Harry's hopes, the spell didn't actually create sunlight, simply a light, and as such didn't have the mysterious properties of sunlight which would have caused the trolls to turn to stone. After a moment's hesitation the trolls roared and moved forward, swinging their trunks or fists down at the dwarves and their illusion body doubles.

The real dwarves were all around them now hacking and slashing moving in and out quickly, none of them staying still. But only the strongest of them could penetrate the hide of the troll's, who were ignoring the injuries they were sustaining. Bofur, Ori and Gloin, wielding maces and a warhammer respectively, were having better luck though. One troll howled, hopping on one foot as he held his other foot with both hands, screaming in pain at the broken toe from a blow from Gloin's hammer.

When he closed in at one point Harry ran into the same problem, the sword of Gryffindor just bouncing off the troll's hide as he slashed forward. He just wasn't strong enough to actually slice into the troll's thick hide. I'd have to thrust, and none of these three are staying still for that kind of thing.

The trolls were surprisingly maneuverable, and those giant clouds of theirs crashed through many of Harry's illusions. One such blow caught a dwarf, Harry thought it might be Bifur he couldn't quite tell from his angle, and the dwarf was flung through the air. To Harry's astonishment though the dwarf got back up, his armor and general durability was able to see him through that blow, though he'd be feeling it in a few hours.

Dodging under a blow of his own Harry cried out "Reducto!" the spell slammed into the troll knocking it back a few feet and opening up a small spiral pattern wound on its fat stomach but it didn't slow the troll down. The troll roared, but his fist came down, smashing through another one of Harry's illusions, before grabbing up a dwarf in its massive mitt. Oin, Harry recognized, before launching another spell. "Bombarda!"

The spell, which sort of resembled a canon blast struck the troll's arm, and it yelled in fury and agony as the bone in the arm broke somewhere under the explosive impact. Oin dropped to the ground rolling forward between the troll, stabbing upwards, and the troll yelped, jumping away. "Oy, dere's no call for dat!"

Elsewhere the dwarves were not having it go their way, unable to do much damage and the battle was slowly going against them. "AHH help!" Nori yelled in fear and shock as he was plucked up into the air, while Ori was smacked aside.

But then Thorin was there, thrusting his sword down into the foot of the trolls. "Baruk Khazad!" The blade bit deep into the large foot, and the wound began bleeding profusely as Thorin ripped his blade out ready to stab again.

"GRAHH you little shit, I'm gonna make paste out of ya!" The troll howled in agony, but was able to nearly take Thorin's head off with a cuff to the head, hurling him away. Thorin looked up groggily shaking his head and was about to be slammed to the ground by the troll's raging fist, when it seemed to pause, the fist unclenching and going up to its face. "GAAAAH!" It screamed in agony once more and the dwarves saw in the light of Harry's Lumos that an arrow had just sprouted from one of its eye.

A second arrow soon followed slamming fletching deep into its second eye, blinding the troll utterly. The troll raged around, slamming into its two fellows and then off into the forest maddened with agony and blind.

"Well shot Bilbo!" Harry exclaimed, finally getting into a position of his own to thrust forward with the sword of Gryffindor. The same troll he had been targeting with his spells hadn't seen him coming, dealing with Gloin and Bofur. The sword penetrated its thick hide, along the calf. "ARGh, yar little humie!"

Ducking under a frantic grab Harry retreated, but troll turned, following his movements. "Wait until I's get ya in my po, my pot…I…AGGGGGGG!"

Grimly Harry backed away, watching as the troll staggered, still trying to grab it did dwarves all around it for a second until the pain of the venom him. Then it screamed, grabbing at the injury and spasming in agony as the basilisk venom went to work.

For a moment the clearing fell silent as the surviving troll turned and stared as did the dwarves at its friend's death throes. This moment was interrupted by a booming voice from on high of the rocky crag set along one side of the hidden gully. "Dawn take you all and be stone to you!"

The troll turned, and they watched as Gandalf brought his staff down, shattering the giant boulder which had heretofore been hiding the clearing from the newly risen sunlight. The troll roared trying to turn away, trying to get into its hole but too late, and Harry watched in bemused fascination as the single remaining troll, it's horribly wounded fellow and the body of the poisoned troll all turned to stone. The effect wasn't instantaneous, but it was still quick, and between one second and the next they were all turned into granite statue as where they stood.

Harry sighed sinking to his knees as he gingerly began to clean the sword of Gryffindor. Around, him the dwarves set up a cheer. Bilbo was the hero of the hour, having blinded one of the trolls, while Harry soon found his back becoming sore from all the slaps it received.

Pushing to his feet Harry moved over towards where Thorin had been making towards Gandalf. "A timely intervention, yet where did you get off to Gandalf?" Thorin's was saying as he came up.

"Looking ahead," Gandalf said simply.

"And what brought you back?" Harry asked.

"Looking behind," Gandalf replied, his gaze moving between the two odd friends before turning his attention fully to Thorin.

"I owe you an apology Thorin," he said slowly. "I tend to take the long view, see the true threat as I believe it to be so clearly that I forget that grievances between dwarves and elves, or humans and either, can have more basis in this day and age then I like to recall. I will not ask you to forget such again, but I do ask you to remember that Elrond is not Thranduil. His people have never personally done aught to you and yours either through action or inaction. And we do need his help."

Thorin frowned then looked over to the trolls then at Harry, who nodded at him. "I suppose I have to apologize too, to both you and to Mr. Baggins. As for Elrond, I will give him the benefit of the doubt when we meet."

Nearby Balin and Dwalin, who had been moving to join them, stopped and stared while Fili gasped in shock. Thorin glared at his nephew for a second, before turning back to look over at Bilbo and then to Gandalf. "I had doubted Bilbo's inclusion even after he had proven himself a good hunter on the road. But you were right Gandalf, and you are indeed a welcome addition to this party Mr. Baggins."

"Bilbo," Bilbo said firmly. "I think were beyond needing to rely on Mr. at this point." Then he smirked. "But you're looking a little green Gandalf, are you coming down with something?"

"Green is it, I happen to think I do this color justice young Bilbo." Gandalf said, stroking his still-green beard and winking at Harry. Then with a wave of his hand and a bare whisper of magic, both Gandalf's and Thorin's hair was back to their original color. Harry simply nodded at the older wizard then looked over at Oin as the dwarf moved towards him, wanting to thank Harry for saving his life.

"Bilbo, Thorin!" Shouted Bofur. "We've found the troll cave!"

Gandalf, Harry and the others moved towards Bofur, coming across the cleft in the rock Bilbo had spotted during his scouting. It was large enough to allow a troll to enter, and quite a bit deeper than Harry had first assumed when he spotted it during the battle. The dwarves began to look around the cave finding several chests worth of jewelry and gold, scattered here and there, worthless to the trolls who only cared about feeding their bottomless stomachs. These they began to bury outside the cave, while a few other dwarves took down the primitive fence outside hurling the bits away so that no one could find the treasure once they buried it.

Thorin, Gandalf, and Harry though continued to explore deeper, eventually finding buried blades as well. "How did this get to be here?!" Gandalf exclaimed as he pulled out a long sword, the blade of it nearly as tall as Bilbo was at the shoulders. Holding it up Gandalf moved into a series of attacks, showing that the ancient wizard was quite a bit sprier than he looked. "This is Elven work! No warrior worth wielding a sword like this would've been beaten by mere mountain trolls."

"The trolls might have raided someone else's treasury at some point, or perhaps a battlefield," Thorin said, pulling out a dwarven axe and handing it over to Balin who nodded taking it. Underneath that he found another blade, shorter than the one Gandalf had down by about a foot but with a thicker blade. When he pulled the blade out of its sheath he noticed it too was of excellent craftsmanship, its edge not dulled at all by the ages.

"That too is Elven make," Gandalf said shaking his head. "Such an odd place to find blades of this worth!"

Thorin stiffened slightly, but said nothing and simply belted the new sword to his side after examining the blade closely. He had to admit, grudgingly, that it was good as or better than any his people could've made. In this day and age anyway, he added hastily to himself.

Behind them Bilbo tripped near the entrance, eliciting some chuckles from the nearby dwarves. "Really Bilbo, you can move through the night so silent and unseen then trip over those giant feet of yours when the battle's over?" asked Fili teasingly.

"I would think my timing was actually quite excellent in that case Fili." Bilbo retorted before reaching down to fell out the ground and find what he had tripped over. A second later he pulled out what looked like a short sword in his hands. "Another sword?"

"More like a dagger lad," said Balin, leaning over the hobbit's shoulder to gaze at the blade. "Elven make like the swords too, though. Keep it Bilbo, like you said in your hands it's a decent short sword."

"These are indeed excellent finds even that one," Gandalf said smiling and knowing now that the powers in the West were with them, aiding their luck in this quest. "Elven weapons glow in the presence of enemies, you'll never be snuck up upon so long as you can check for it."

"But wait," Harry said holding up a hand. "Doesn't that mean they'll also give your position away to the enemy?"

Gandalf actually twitched. "Ahh, yes that might indeed take some thought. Elves can control that enchantment, but I don't know if even another wizard will be able to control the reaction, it might be an enchantment bound to their elven blood. Yet another reason to go to which Rivendell," he said, glancing sideways at Thorin.

Thorin scowled. "I already said we would head to Rivendell Gandalf, do not rub it in."

"And meanwhile…" Harry said, glancing from the sword of Gryffindor to the Elven blade in Thorin's hand, noting the differences, "I think we need to figure out a better way of working as a unit instead of a mob…"

OOOOOOO

In the most distance reaches of Mirkwood at an ancient fortress named Dol Goldur, evil dwelt. It marshalled its forces, biding its time, gathering its strength both magical, material and among its followers.

Sauron was that evil's name, the Abominable in Quenya. It was a name he had earned in acts of evil great and small throughout the ages of Arda. He of course had setbacks, much like his master Morgoth or as Sauron still thought of him, the one true god of Arda. He had lost his original body in the sinking of Numenor and the bending of the world by Eru Iluvatar after he, Sauron, had convinced the Over-proud Numenoreans to break the Ban of the Valar. But thanks to his creation of the One Ring his spirit had survived, able to create a new physical form.

He had lost that form too when sundered from his ring, nor had he yet regained a physical form. But despite the lack of a physical body, his will was still strong, and everything that had been created by his master owed allegiance to him, though the most powerful creatures, dragons and Balrogs, could and did resist his call, if they were aware of it at all in his still-weakened state.

The time was coming, Sauron knew, when its garb as the Necromancer would fail it at last, or perhaps his guise as the Necromancer would become too powerful for his enemies to ignore. He, if such a term could be used to describe Sauron, had planned for that eventuality and was almost ready to retreat in good order to Barad Dur, the true seat of his strength, the heart of Mordor.

There he would be unassailable even if all the peoples in the Free Worlds tried to make war on him. At least if he could keep from retreating until his armies there were strong enough to secure that land's natural borders. The alliance he had made when he had feigned a retreat years before this with the Easterlings would be a major aid there.

But something new was moving across Middle Earth, magic of a kind he had never sensed before. But at present he was still too weak, and too wary of the White Council to discern what kind of magic it was or it's user's precise location. Yet Sauron could feel the direction of the changes the magic made to the world, and that was almost enough.

The orcs and goblins surrounding Sauron's pillars all shuddered as the blazing pillar of fire and darkness that was Sauron spoke, his voice appearing in all their minds with a physical force as he spoke the Black Tongue. "Send messages out to all of our hidden realms in the Misty Mountains. Be on the watch for a strange magic user. He is to be taken alive if possible, killed if not. And send for Azog. This task is more important than my chosen general's personal vendetta."

End Chapter

I tried to use a font to make Sauron's speech stand out as it should, but while the bold stayed the style did not, ah well.

Anyway, hope you all liked this chapter, and as always please review. Also be on the lookout tomorrow for the poll for next month. I hear my SW muse calling me back baby!