"Aren't we going to wait for Bilbo?" asked Hannah as she, Gandalf, and the Dwarves started away on their journey with everyone on a pony, except the wizard who was on a horse because he was too large to ride the small breed.

"Don't worry, I left him a note along with the contract that we would be waiting for him at the Green Dragon Inn in Bywater, if he does not catch up to us sooner," said Gandalf.

Fortunately they did not have to wait long, and the hobbit soon came flying up behind them before they had gone too far from Hobbiton.

"Wait! Wait!" cried Bilbo, calling them to a halt. "I signed it. Here," he said proudly, handing the contract up to Balin. Gandalf and Hannah smiled at the hobbit as he glanced over at them, glad to see he had made it.

"Everything appears to be in order," said Balin. "Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield." The old Dwarf said with a chuckle while the others laughed, (most of them) pleasantly surprised.

"Give him a pony," said Thorin.

"No, no, that won't be necessary, thank you. I'm sure I can keep up on foot," said Bilbo quickly, clearly very uncomfortable with the idea. "I've done my fair share of walking holidays, you know? Even got as far as Frogmorton once." But his protests were of no use, and the hobbit let out a small cry as he found himself being hauled up and set upon a pony, without his consent. Hannah and Gandalf shared a small smile of wry amusement at the sour expression on the hobbit's face while he sat atop his ride.

"Come on, Nori. Pay up," said Óin, laughing as he caught the small pouch of coins tossed his way.

"One more," said Kili.

"Thanks, lad," said Óin as another was tossed his way.

"What's that about?" Bilbo asked Gandalf.

"Oh, they took wagers on whether or not you would turn up," answered Gandalf. "Most of them bet that you wouldn't."

"And what did you think?" asked Bilbo.

"Well..." said the wizard. He and Hannah both reached up and caught their winnings as they were tossed at them. Gandalf chuckled. He hadn't realized she had also placed a bet. That was very bold of her, considering she hadn't enough coin of her own to back it up. "My dear fellow, we never doubted you for a second." Bilbo began to smile, but then screwed up his face and let out a loud sneeze.

"Ugh. It's horse hair. Must be having a reaction," he groaned, quickly searching his pockets for a handkerchief. "No, wait, wait, stop. Stop! We have to turn around," Bilbo said, holding up a hand to halt the company.

"What on earth is the matter?" asked Gandalf.

"I've forgotten my handkerchief," answered Bilbo.

"You cannot be serious?" Hannah deadpanned. He stopped them for that?

"Here, use this," said Bofur, tossing him his spare. To Bilbo's dismay it was not so much a handkerchief as it was a very rough dirty rag. It was heavy and made a very suspiciously wet smacking sound when he caught it. Hannah grimaced while the rest of the Dwarves let out a chuckle.

"Move on," said Thorin, leading the company on again.

"Here," Hannah said, pulling up beside Bilbo to lend him her own spare, taking pity on the hobbit. Bilbo was very grateful, for unlike Bofur's rag, it was made of smooth and clean white linen that was still as fresh as a daisy. It had two H's and a rose embroidered on one of the corners.

After that the party went along very merrily, and they told stories or sang songs as they rode forward all day, except of course when they stopped for meals. These didn't come quite as often as Bilbo would have liked them, but still he began to feel that adventures were not so bad after all.

At first they passed through Hobbit-lands, a wild respectable country inhabited by decent folk, with good roads, an inn or two, and now and then a dwarf or farmer ambling by on business. Then they came to lands where people spoke strangely, and sang songs Bilbo had never heard before. Now they had gone far into the Lone-lands, where there were no people left, no inns, and the roads grew steadily worse. Not far ahead were dreary hills, rising higher and higher, dark with trees. On some of them were old castles with an evil look, as if they had been built by wicked people. Everything seemed gloomy, for the weather that day had taken a nasty turn. Mostly it had been as good as May can be, even in merry tales, but now it was cold and wet. In the Lone-lands they had to camp when they could, but at least it had been dry.

"To think it will soon be June," grumbled Bilbo as they splashed along in a very muddy track. It was after tea-time; it was pouring with rain, and had been all day; his hood was dripping into his eyes, his cloak was full of water; the ponies were tired and stumbled on stones; the others were too grumpy to talk, all except for Hannah that is.

"I quite like the rain," she said pleasantly. There was something cleansing about it. "After all, you can't have a rainbow without rain, and sunshine all the time makes a desert." Bilbo thought she made a fair point, but it did not change the fact that they were all suffering miserably at the moment. He would not be at all surprised to find that the rain had gotten into their dry clothes and into the food-bags.

"Here, Mr. Gandalf, can't you do something about this deluge?" asked Dori.

"It is raining, Master Dwarf, "said Gandalf, "and it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you wish to change the weather of the world you should find yourself another Wizard." Hannah was quite right. It was rained because it was necessary.

"Are there any?" asked Bilbo.

"What?" asked Gandalf.

"Other wizards," said Bilbo.

"There are five of us. The greatest of our order is Saruman the White," answered Gandalf. "Then there are the two Blue Wizards... Do you know, I've quite forgotten their names."

"And who is the fifth?" asked Bilbo.

"That would be Mr. Radagast, yes?" said Hannah.

"Yes," said Gandalf. "Radagast the Brown."

"Is he a great wizard? Or is he more like you?" asked Bilbo. Hannah had to suppress a smile as Gandalf glanced back in their direction with a rather unamused expression on his face. If only Bilbo knew: Gandalf the Grey was not nearly as old and feeble as his appearance might suggest.

"I think he is a very great Wizard, in his own way," said Gandalf. "He is a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest-lands to the east; and a good thing too. For always evil will look to find a foothold in this world."

And so the company jogged on in the rain until it finally exhausted itself. Eventually they came upon the remains of a dilapidated and abandoned house that was close to the road.

"We shall camp here for the night," said Thorin, halting the company. "Fili, Kili, look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them. Óin, Glóin, get a fire going."

While Thorin issued his orders Gandalf dismounted and moved to investigate the ruins. "What is it?" Hannah asked as she followed. He looked troubled by what he saw.

"A farmer and his family used to live here," said Gandalf. This was not a good sign. The door had clearly been ripped off its hinges by something very large and strong. "I think it would be wiser to move on. We could make for the Hidden Valley."

"I have told you already I will not go near that place," said Thorin.

"Why not? The Elves could help us," said Gandalf. "We could get food, rest, advice."

"I do not need their advice," Thorin said stubbornly.

"What about that map you can't read?" asked Hannah. The Dwarf shot her a sharp look. Hannah coolly looked away, pretending to be interested in the dirt under her fingernails of which, come to think of it, there was much more of than she had realized. Honestly, she didn't know why Thorin was so set against Lord Elrond. From what she had heard of their history, the charitable elf-lord had nothing to do with the tragedy that had befallen his people. Their failed alliance had been made with a completely different elf-ruler at the time.

"Just because it isn't what you want to hear does not mean she is wrong," Gandalf said in defense of his apprentice. "Lord Elrond could help us."

"Help?" Thorin scoffed. "A dragon attacks Erebor. What help came from the Elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls. The Elves looked on and did nothing. You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather? Who betrayed my father?"

"You are neither of them," said Gandalf. "I did not give you that map and key to hold on to the past."

"I did not know that they were yours to keep," retorted Thorin. The Wizard's eye twitched almost imperceptibly. He let out a sigh of frustration and shook his head at the Dwarf. That was it. He'd had enough.

"Mr. Gandalf?" Hannah said, furrowing her brow as he swiftly turned on his heel.

"Stay here, and keep an eye on them—make sure they don't do anything stupid!" Gandalf ordered sharply, though he knew it was not her that he was really upset with.

"Everything all right? Gandalf, where are you going?" Bilbo asked worriedly as he stalked past him and the rest of the Dwarves by the ponies.

"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense," growled Gandalf.

"And who's that?" asked Bilbo.

"Myself, Mr. Baggins!" the Wizard snapped as he stomped off. "I've had enough of Dwarves for one day." Hannah let out a sigh as she watched him go. Her mentor was normally a very reasonable man, but once you got him riled up he could have quite a temper.

"Come on, Bombur, we're hungry," said Thorin moodily. "Where shall we get a dry patch to sleep on?"

"Is he coming back?" Bilbo asked, concerned.

"Of course," answered Hannah. "Eventually."

The answer to Thorin's last question was: nowhere. It was a bad wet evening after all that rain. They moved to a clump of trees, and though it was drier under them, the wind shook the rain off the leaves, and the drip, drip, was most annoying. Also the mischief seemed to have got into the fire. Dwarves can make a fire almost anywhere out of almost anything, wind or no wind; but they could not do it that night, not even Óin and Glóin, who were especially good at it.

"Gandalf has been gone a long time," said Bilbo worriedly, pacing. The sun had set some time ago, and it was already well into the night.

"He's a Wizard! He does what he chooses," said Bofur.

"Can't you do something about this?" Fili asked Hannah, referring to the fire.

"I can't make wet wood hold a flame," she answered honestly.

"Then what good are you?" demanded Thorin. She was just about to remind him that they were equally useless in this situation, when one of the ponies took fright at nothing and bolted. He got into the river before they could catch him; and before they could get him out again, Fili and Kili were nearly drowned, and all the baggage that he carried was washed away off him. Of course it was mostly food, and there was mighty little left for supper, and less for breakfast. They all sat there glum and wet and muttering, while Óin and Glóin went on trying to light the fire, and quarreling about it.

Bilbo was sadly reflecting that adventures are not all pony-rides in the May-sunshine, when Balin, who was always their look-out man, said: "There's a light over there!" There was a hill some way off with trees on it, pretty thick in parts. Out of the dark mass of trees they could now see a light shining, a reddish comfortable-looking light, as if it might be a fire or torches twinkling.

When they had looked at for some while, they fell to arguing. Some said 'no' and some said 'yes'. Some said they could but go and see, and anything was better than little supper, less breakfast, and wet clothes all the night.

Others said: "These parts are none too well known, and are too near the mountains. Travellers seldom come this way now. The old maps are no use: things have changed for the worse and the road is unguarded. They have seldom ever heard of the king round here, and the less inquisitive you are as you go along, the less trouble you are likely to find." With this group Hannah agreed. She could endure a night of hunger and wet clothing, and would much rather do so and wait to explore in the safety of daylight than take such an unnecessary risk now. But not everyone agreed, and the arguing continued.

Some said: "After all there are fifteen of us."

Others said: "Where has Gandalf got to?" This remark was repeated by everybody. Then the rain began to pour down worse than ever, and Óin and Glóin began to fight.

That settled it for the Dwarves. "After all we have got a burglar with us," they said; and so they made off, leading their ponies (with all due and proper caution) in the direction of the light. Hannah trailed behind with great reluctance. Her misgivings about this plan only grew as they drew closer; but as Gandalf had asked her to keep an eye on them, she felt she had little choice but to follow. They came to the hill and were soon in the wood. Up the hill they went; but there was no proper path to be seen, such as might lead to another house or farm; and in the process they made a good deal of rustling and crackling and creaking (and a good deal of grumbling and dratting), as they went through the trees in the pitch dark. Hannah's skirt got caught on something, and as she fumbled about to free it, she became aware that she was touching a freshly uprooted tree. Remembering the state of the old farmhouse's door, the bad feeling in the pit of Hannah's stomach grew.

Suddenly the red light shone out very bright through the tree-trunks not far ahead.

"Now it's the burglar's turn," said Thorin, meaning Bilbo. "Go and find out all about the light, and what it's for, and if all is perfectly safe and canny."

"Wait!" said Hannah urgently, careful to keep her voice low. "You remember how Gandalf asked me make sure you all didn't do anything stupid, well, I'm pretty sure this qualifies. I really think we should leave. Now."

Thorin fixed her with a sharp glare. "I am the leader of this company," he said in a tone that would brook no challenge. Hannah frowned and bit her lip in annoyance. "Now scuttle off," he told the hobbit, "and come back quick, if all is well. If not, come back if you can. If you can't hoot twice like a barn-owl and once like screech-owl, and we'll do what we can." With that the Dwarves gave poor Bilbo a shove, and off he had to go before he could explain that could not hoot even once like any kind of owl any more than he could fly like a bat. But at any rate hobbits can move quietly in woods, absolutely quietly. They take a pride in it, and Bilbo had sniffed more than once at what he called 'all this dwarvish racket,' as they went along, though I don't suppose you or I would notice anything at all on a windy night, not if the whole cavalcade had passed two feet off. As for Bilbo walking primly towards the red light, I don't suppose even a weasel would have stirred a whisker at it. So, naturally, he got right up to the fire—for fire it was—without disturbing anyone.

After a while, Hannah and the Dwarves could hear noises from a distance in the direction they had sent Bilbo, and after waiting some time for the hobbit to come back, or to hoot like an owl, Hannah moved to do something about it.

"You stay here," said Thorin, stopping her. "We do not need two to rescue." Hannah frowned at this, but decided to stay put as she knew herself that she wasn't much of a fighter. She watched silently as the Dwarves started off one by one to creep towards the light as quietly as they could. Soon Hannah was all alone with the ponies, and she could hear the sounds of the commotion up ahead growing fiercer. And then it was suddenly quiet again. She waited a spell, but neither Bilbo or the Dwarves came back. Hannah frowned with worry, and assumed the worst.

Quickly and quietly she whispered to her pony in Elvish and let it fly. Then she crept forward towards the light with as much stealth as she could muster. The closer she got the more she could hear, and she gathered from the argument taking place that the Dwarves had all been caught and were about to be eaten. Her eyes widened when she was close enough to see what their captors looked like. Trolls. They had all waked right into a troll's camp. Hannah swallowed the nervous lump forming in her throat. Fortunately they were far too busy arguing how to go about cooking everyone else to notice her, so Hannah quickly and silently slipped back in to the cover of the brush. She didn't know much about trolls, but she knew better than to try to take them on directly all on her own (especially after a group of thirteen Dwarves had failed), and was trying to come up with a clever plan to save everyone. The trolls had just decided to roast the Dwarves now and eat them later—that was the idea of the one the others called Bert—when the one named William said something quite damning.

"Never mind the seasoning, we ain't got all night," he said. "Dawn ain't far away, let's get a move on. I don't fancy being turned to stone." This gave Hannah an idea, one Bilbo seemed to have caught on to as well.

"Wait!" the hobbit said bravely, standing up in his sack. "You are making a terrible mistake."

"You can't reason with them. They're half-wits!" shouted several of the Dwarves who were being turned on the spit.

"Half-wits? What does that make us?" asked Bofur. Hannah thought he made a fair point.

"I meant with the, uh, seasoning," said Bilbo. That got the trolls' attention.

"What about the seasoning?" asked Bert.

"Well, have you smelt them?" Bilbo asked. "You're going to need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up."

"Traitor!" shouted Bombur.

"What do you know about cooking Dwarf?" asked Tom.

"Shut up! Let the flurgaburburhobbit talk," said Bert.

"Ah, the secret to cooking Dwarf is, um..." said Bilbo, starting to flounder. He hadn't really expected to get this far.

"Yes? Come on. Tell us the secret," said Bert.

"It's, uh... The secret is... to skin them first," answered Bilbo. There came a very understandable uproar from the Dwarves upon hearing that.

"Tom, get me filleting knife," said Bert.

"I'll skin you, you little—!" Glóin yelled angrily at the hobbit.

"I won't forget that! I won't forget that!" said Dwalin.

"What a load of rubbish," said Tom. "I've eaten plenty with their skins on. Scarf 'em I say, boots and all."

"No good roasting 'em now, it'd take all night," said a deep voice. Bert thought it was William's. Of course it was really just Hannah doing a bit of ventriloquism.

"Don't start the argument all over again, Bill," he said, "or it will take all night."

"Who's a-arguing?" said William, who thought it was one of the others who had spoken. He had been sitting quietly by the fire the whole time.

"You are," said Tom.

"You're a liar!" said William; and so the whole argument began all over again. In the end they decided to mince them fine and boil them. So the trolls got a black pot, and took out their knives.

"Uh..." Bilbo said nervously, when the voice intervened again.