One Ring to troll them all

Of Travels and Talks

Traveling with Thorin's Company and a wizard was interesting, to say the least. I couldn't believe it had been a week and a half since we left the Shire behind; it was already May!

The journey had been quite light-hearted ever since, so time quickly passed us all by. Bilbo looked to be having fun, at least, listening to Balin's stories and the silly, little anecdotes the other dwarves sometimes narrated for the easily excitable hobbit.

It seemed that my presence had changed the initial impression and relationship that the dwarves had with Bilbo. The fact that I had told them of the hobbit's relation to the Thain probably helped matters, as well as Gandalf's poor handling and explaining of the situation - or lack thereof, really.

Well, I had already known I would change things. Just by destroying the Ring thousands of years earlier, I had thrown the whole story off course, even if some events, by some grace of God, had still stayed the same.

Smaug was probably an unchanged variable. At least, I seemed to remember that the dragon had nothing to do with Sauron; he just happened to hear about all the gold and jewels hidden inside the Lonely Mountain and decided to take the whole treasure for himself, something which was understandable considering he was a dragon.

So I had hope I would still be able to predict some of the events in the not-so-distant future we had ahead of us.

We had just passed by Weathertop, a sight which almost gave me the chills - I hated ghosts, and the Witch-king most of all; he was just too damn creepy - but fortunately for my nerves, we didn't camp there. Instead, we walked until night fell, at which point we were forced to stop because the dwarves could hardly see where they were going.

One thing I loved about this body is that I could see in the dark pretty damn well. It probably helped having twin flames for eyes, even if they were not in sight at the moment. Bilbo could usually see where he was going - hobbits were awesome like that - and Gandalf...was Gandalf. No need to explain anything there.

Anyway, we stopped for the night at the exact same spot shown in the movies.

Shocking, right?

After a small meal, aside from Balin and the twins, the dwarves all fell asleep.

I looked over at Dwalin, who was sitting against a rock and had his head leaned forward with his eyes closed, and I wondered how the guy could sleep like that without snapping his neck.

"Are you not tired, Kael?" Bilbo asked me quietly from inside his sleeping bag.

I shrugged, my fingers deftly carving a flute from a piece of wood I had gotten in Hobbiton. Muscle memory had come rearing its head again. At this point, almost everything that I did while being in Mairon's body would hardly surprise me anymore.

(In my defense, though, swordsmanship wasn't the only thing I had learned in Bree. It was just the thing I seemed to be better at for now.)

"Not really," I whispered back at Bilbo, not looking away from what was quickly becoming a wooden instrument. "I do not usually sleep a lot. You should rest, though."

Bilbo frowned and threw a pointed look at Bombur's snoring form.

Ah. I hadn't even noticed the noise; I had been too immersed in my task. Carving something from wood had a really calming effect. Who would have known?

Bilbo slowly shifted and stood up, taking an apple from his travel bag as he did and walking towards Myrtle - his pony - with careful steps.

I gazed at him in amusement as he smuggled the fruit to the animal, trying to be all inconspicuous about it while he cooed at Myrtle, and I had to repress a chuckle to avoid making a sound and waking up everyone.