The Undecided Title Of Sara Miller *Hobbit Fanfiction* (Thorin/OC)

Chapter 6: Ink and Earmuffs

By the time they made camp for the night beneath three large ash trees, Sara's thighs and butt were aching. She had ridden a horse before but never for more than an hour or two. She slid off Starbright and hit the ground, her legs almost collapsing beneath her. It took a few minutes for her to be steady again. The dwarves were already setting about making this place camp for the night, paying her no mind.

"I see ya managed to keep yer pony moving," said Dwalin approaching her, leading four other ponies.

"With a few suggestions from Fili and Kili's," she admitted. "My legs are killing me."

"Grab yer pony and follow me."

Dwalin showed her how to brush and care for Starbright before settling him in for the evening. He was a dwarf of few words but she didn't care. It was just nice to have someone take notice of her and she readily soaked up his advice, committing it to memory. She didn't want to annoy him by being a slow learner, but soon enough he had moved off to see to the other ponies, leaving her to her own devices.

She watched the company prepare for the night wanting to help but unfamiliar with their nightly routine. Some were finding places for their bedrolls or clearing debris away. Bilbo was with Balin near the two pack ponies that carried the extra supplies. Everyone seemed to be doing something to get camp in order. At last, she found something she felt confident she could help with. Bofur was arranging a ring of stones for a fire pit while his brother Bombur pulled out pots and spoons to begin dinner preparation.

A few minutes later, she reappeared in camp with an armful of snapped branches and dragging a sizable fallen branch behind her. Bofur was absent when she returned to the fire pit so she began to stack the twigs and sticks together in a log cabin formation. Turning to the larger branch she stood on it and pulled, trying to break it apart.

"Here lass, let me do that." Dwalin came over and with a few swings of the ax strapped to his belt he had chopped it into manageable lengths.

"Thanks."

He nodded to her and moved off to talk to Thorin who was standing with Gandalf. Sara had just finished stacking the extra logs to the side when Bofur returned with his arms full of wood.

"Here now, what's all this?" He set down his armful next to her pile and inspected her work. "Not half bad."

"I went to summer camp for years." The hatted dwarf cocked his head to the side, confused. "During the summer lots of kids go to a camp to learn basic survival skills and have fun," she explained.

"Not a bad idea I reckon," he said, rubbing the patch of hair on his chin and smoothing out his rather long mustache.

"I always enjoyed it."

He pulled a flint and steel from his pocket and bent to start the fire.

"Here," said Sara, holding out the lighter she had pulled from her pack. Bofur raised an eyebrow. She rolled her thumb over the trigger and a flame sprang into life.

"Quite the contraption ya have there."

"It's pretty handy," she said, holding the flame to the kindling, and soon there was a blaze. "Makes quick work of starting a fire at any rate." Bofur eyed the lighter curiously.

"Say lass, I wonder if I might..."

"Here," said Sara. "You can have this one. I have another." Eagerly he took the lighter and sat to experiment with it.

Sara returned to her pack and unwrapped her small tent from the bottom. Thank heaven she had been backpacking when all this happened and was at least mostly prepared. Bilbo on the other hand had run out the door without even a pocket-handkerchief, something that the company had found out when he made a fuss about wanting to turn around and go back and get one from his house. Bofur had tossed him a piece of cloth ripped from a sack and the procession had moved on without a second glance back.