For several long seconds, no one spoke.
The three trolls stood frozen where they had been, vines still wrapped around their body, their twisted faces locked forever in surprise.
Morning sunlight now filled the clearing.
A bird chirped somewhere high in the trees.
Finally Bilbo Baggins let out a shaky breath.
"Well," he said, adjusting his coat nervously, "that was… rather terrifying."
One of the dwarves cautiously walked up to the nearest troll statue and poked its stone leg with the end of his axe.
"Stone," muttered Dwalin.
"No surprise there," said Balin, stroking his beard thoughtfully.
Nearby, Fili dusted off his coat and tried to stand a little taller.
"Well," he said casually, "I believe we had them quite under control."
His brother immediately nodded.
"Of course we did," added Kili. "Just giving them a bit of exercise, really."
Several dwarves turned to stare at them.
One of them snorted.
"You were upside down ten minutes ago," grumbled Bofur.
Kili cleared his throat.
"Temporary setback."
At that moment Rowan swooped down from above and landed neatly on Mallory's shoulder.
His feathers were slightly ruffled, but he looked rather proud of himself.
Bilbo glanced at the bird, then at Mallory.
"Are you alright, Bilbo"
"I am, thanks to you," he said.
His eyes drifted briefly toward the stone trolls again.
Behind them, Thorin Oakenshield approached the statues, examining them carefully.
Then his sharp eyes fell on something half-hidden among the rocks near the trolls' camp.
A narrow opening in the hillside.
"Gandalf," Thorin said.
The wizard turned.
"Yes?"
Thorin pointed toward the dark opening.
"There."
Gandalf followed his gaze.
A small smile crossed the wizard's face.
"Ah," he said quietly.
"It seems our unfortunate friends had a place to store their… belongings."
Bilbo blinked.
"You mean their treasure?"
"Quite possibly," Gandalf replied.
He tapped his staff lightly against the ground.
"Well then."
The wizard turned toward the company.
"I believe we should take a look inside."
Gandalf took lead while the company and I followed closely behind.
"You did well Rowan," I said softly.
I gently stroked his feathers. The crow let out a quiet caw, sounding rather pleased with himself.
Moments later we reached the trolls' cave.
A foul smell drifted out from the darkness.
"Ugh... what is that smell," I muttered.
My eyes narrowed as I covered my nose while stepping inside.
The cave was dim and cluttered.
Broken crates, torn sacks, and old bones lay scattered across the ground.
Several dwarves grimaced.
"I believe that," muttered Bofur, "is what happens when trolls keep house."
"Disgusting creatures," grumbled Dwalin.
Gandalf lifted his staff.
Soft light spread across the cave walls.
The glow revealed piles of stolen goods—rusted weapons, cracked armor, and coins scattered across the floor.
But something else caught the wizard's attention.
Half-buried beneath a heap of plunder were several long shapes wrapped in old cloth.
Gandalf stepped forward slowly.
"Well now," he murmured.
"This is interesting."
He pulled the cloth away.
Three ancient blades gleamed in the staff-light.
Even beneath the grime of the cave, their craftsmanship was unmistakable.
"Fine swords," Gandalf said quietly.
"Very fine indeed."
The dwarves gathered around.
One of the blades had a slender shape, smaller than the others.
Gandalf picked it up and turned toward Bilbo.
"This one," he said, offering the weapon, "may suit you."
Bilbo stared at the sword in surprise.
"A sword? For me?"
Gandalf nodded.
"Indeed."
The blade was known as Sting.
The other two weapons were greater still.
One Gandalf lifted with quiet recognition.
"Ah," he said softly.
"This is Glamdring, once carried by a lord of the ancient city of Gondolin."
Another blade rested in Thorin's hands.
"This one," Gandalf continued, "is Orcrist, the Goblin-cleaver."
"created by elves of the west."
Hearing that, Thorin's brow furrowed, in contempt, handing the sword back to Gandalf.
"It is a fine blade," Gandalf insisted.
"And you won't find any finer than that."
Thorin studied the weapon, the firelight reflecting along its edge.
"A fine blade," he said quietly.
The company stood in silence for a moment.
It seemed the trolls had unknowingly guarded treasures far older than themselves.
Suddenly — rustling noises came from behind, I turned and saw three dwarves hauling gold on a chest "What are you guys doing," I asked.
"Burying some treasure lady Mallory," One dwarf said. Gouging the soil until a dark hollow appeared on the ground.
The company stepped out of the trolls' cave and into the clear morning air.
For a moment, the forest seemed peaceful again.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves, and the statues of the three trolls loomed silently behind them.
Then a sound echoed faintly through the trees.
A distant rustling.
Mallory tilted her head.
The sound came again.
Branches shaking.
Leaves rattling.
Something was moving through the forest.
Fast.
The dwarves immediately reached for their weapons.
Axes flashed free from belts.
Thorin drew Orcrist, the blade glinting in the morning light.
The noise grew louder.
Branches snapped.
Something barreled through the underbrush toward them.
Bilbo nervously stepped behind Gandalf.
Then, suddenly—
A small brown rabbit burst from the trees.
Behind it came another.
And another.
Within seconds, an entire team of rabbits came racing into the clearing, harnessed to a small wooden sleigh.
The rabbits skidded to a halt in a spray of dirt and leaves.
Perched atop the sleigh sat a wild-haired figure in brown robes, clutching the sides as though the ride had been far more exciting than intended.
"WHOA—steady!" the rider shouted.
The rabbits finally stopped.
The dwarves stared.
Bilbo blinked.
The figure hopped down from the sleigh, brushing twigs and leaves from his coat.
It was Radagast the Brown.
His beard was tangled with small bits of moss, and a feather was stuck awkwardly in his hair.
"Gandalf!" Radagast exclaimed, spotting the wizard.
He hurried forward, nearly tripping over a root.
"I've been looking everywhere for you!"
Gandalf raised an eyebrow.
"Radagast?" he said, clearly surprised.
"What in Middle-earth are you doing here?"
Radagast opened his mouth to speak.
"There is something terrible," he said urgently. "Something horrible coming and it—"
He stopped abruptly.
His expression twisted in frustration.
Radagast blinked several times.
Then he pressed a hand to his mouth.
"Oh dear," he muttered.
Gandalf frowned.
"Well?"
Radagast tried again.
"It was right on my tongue!"
He snapped his fingers repeatedly, pacing in small circles.
"Something dreadful… dark… creeping through the forest…"
He froze.
Then brightened suddenly.
"Ah! No—that wasn't it."
The dwarves exchanged confused looks.
Bilbo leaned toward Mallory and whispered,
"Is he always like this?"
Gandalf sighed softly.
"Unfortunately," he said, "yes."
Radagast finally stopped pacing and looked back at Gandalf with sudden urgency.
"But it is important," he said quickly.
"Very important."
His voice lowered.
"There is a darkness moving in the east."
Even the forest seemed quieter for a moment.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Even the forest seemed to grow quieter.
The wind through the trees softened, and the rabbits pulling the sleigh twitched their noses uneasily.
Radagast the Brown and Gandalf stepped a short distance away from the company, speaking in low voices.
The dwarves muttered among themselves, casting uncertain glances toward the woods.
Then Radagast's eyes drifted past Gandalf.
They landed on me.
He froze.
For several seconds he simply stared, his wide eyes filled with open curiosity.
I shifted slightly under the attention before giving a small, awkward wave.
"H-hi," I said with an uncertain smile.
Radagast blinked, as if snapping out of a trance. Then he leaned closer to Gandalf and whispered, though not quietly enough to escape notice.
"Gandalf… what is she?"
His brow furrowed as he studied me again.
"I sense the presence of light within her… yet the other half is… unsettling."
Gandalf merely smiled beneath his beard.
"Do not fret, Radagast," he said calmly. "She is a good one."
At that moment Rowan swooped down from above, his dark wings cutting through the air before he landed neatly upon my shoulder.
Radagast's eyes widened further.
The wizard stepped forward slightly, studying both the bird and me with fascination.
"Well now," he murmured.
Then he bowed his head politely.
"May I know your name, my lady?"
"Oh I'm Mallory," she replied.
"A pleasure to meet you."
Radagast nodded warmly, though his curious gaze lingered for a moment longer before he turned back to Gandalf.
The lightness in his expression faded.
His voice grew serious.
"The forest is sick, Gandalf," he said quietly.
"There are spiders—great ones—spreading through the woods. Creatures flee their nests. The trees themselves are dying."
The dwarves fell silent as they listened.
Radagast lowered his voice even further.
"And there is something else."
He reached into the folds of his robe and carefully pulled out a small bundle wrapped in cloth.
"Something I found in Dol Guldur."
Gandalf's expression darkened.
Slowly, Radagast unwrapped the cloth.
Inside lay a pale blade, thin and cruelly shaped.
A cold aura seemed to cling to the metal.
Gandalf's eyes narrowed as he recognized it immediately.
"A Morgul Blade," he said grimly.
Radagast nodded.
"Yes."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"There is a sorcerer dwelling there now… a dark one."
The wind stirred through the trees again.
Radagast looked up at Gandalf, worry etched deeply across his face.
"They call him…"
"The Necromancer."
Silence fell across the clearing.
Even the dwarves seemed to feel the weight of that name.
Gandalf took the Morgul Blade, turning it slowly in his hands as he studied the pale metal.
A dark expression settled across his face.
Before he could speak, Rowan suddenly stirred on Mallory's shoulder.
The crow gave a low, uneasy caw.
Then another.
Mallory frowned.
"What is it, Rowan?"
The bird spread his wings and shot upward into the sky, climbing above the treetops.
For a moment he circled, scanning the forest beyond the clearing.
The company waited.
Uneasy silence settled over them.
Then Rowan dove back down.
Mallory lifted her staff.
Golden light flowed from the crystal tip, wrapping around the bird in a warm glow.
She whispered an incantation.
"Into a man."
The light flared.
Where the crow had been standing now stood a young man, dark-haired and sharp-eyed. Rowan staggered slightly as the magic settled.
His face immediately hardened.
"Orcs," he said grimly.
He turned toward the forest.
"Lots of them."
The company froze.
Axes tightened in dwarven hands.
Bilbo swallowed.
Gandalf's head snapped toward Thorin Oakenshield.
"Who did you tell about your quest beyond your kin?"
Thorin's jaw tightened.
"I told no one."
Gandalf did not hesitate.
"Then we must leave. Immediately."
One of the dwarves looked around anxiously.
"We have no horses," he said. "We can't outrun them."
From beside his rabbit sleigh, Radagast the Brown suddenly spoke up.
"Then I shall lead them away."
Gandalf turned sharply.
"These are Gundabad wargs," he warned.
"You cannot outrun them."
Radagast patted one of the rabbits proudly.
"These," he said with confidence, "are Rhosgobel rabbits."
He grinned.
"I'd like to see them try."
Mallory stepped forward.
"Then I'll take the other half."
Bilbo immediately protested.
"No, Mal! That's far too dangerous!"
Thorin frowned.
"And how exactly do you plan to outrun them?" he asked. "You don't even have a mount."
Mallory simply smiled.
A small, amused smirk curved across her lips as she glanced toward Rowan.
She raised her hand.
Golden light shimmered between her fingers.
Then she spoke calmly.
"Into a horse."
Light burst outward.
Rowan's body shifted within the glow—his form stretching and reshaping.
When the light faded, a strong black horse stood where the man had been.
The animal stamped its hoof against the ground, snorting impatiently.
Mallory placed a hand against its neck.
Behind her, several dwarves stared in open disbelief.
Bilbo blinked rapidly.
"I'm beginning to think," he muttered quietly, "that I am very underprepared for this journey."