Standing at a good nine feet high, it seemed impossible to miss a troll, but Fith had a sinking feeling that she had managed to do exactly that.
She hated trolls. There was no way around it. It wasn't just because they were smelly- though from her experience, trolls had never failed in disgusting her with their perpetual stench; and don't even remind her of the difficulty she's had getting the smell out of her clothes afterwards- nor due to their lack of sophistication and charm.
She hated trolls because the pay was bad.
Don't get her wrong, she understood that times were hard, and that not everybody could afford to pay her generously. Moreover, she agreed that trolls were not in fact a difficult species to take out, and that any fool with a sharp enough sword could have a good shot for themselves. But for Mahal's sake, she grew tired of being paid so little. It was a real hoard of gold that she sought after.
And yet, despite knowing the job's dismal prospects, she had still accepted it with little objection. After all, gold was gold, no matter how little: a proverb that she lived by.
But she had little need to complain about her potentially poor wages, for at this rate, she would be lucky if she got paid at all. Those who she worked for never cared about the difficulties she endured on her travels. For them, it was a simple case of: no successful kills, no wages; and right now, with not a troll in sight, she regretfully acknowledged that, unless she exchanged what few items of value she had left, she would be going hungry for the next few weeks, another lesson that she knew well.
Going back to why she hated trolls. In fact, if she were to really dig deep, she would include Trollshaws to the list.
This was not her first visit, much to her displeasure. It wasn't uncommon for trolls, mainly Hill ones, to haunt in these particular upland woods- which, to Fith's horror, was beginning to occur more frequently over the last couple of years- and so she was beginning to recognise certain parts.
Which is why, when she stumbled across the place where she usually rested, now suspiciously clear of any trees unlike what she recognised from her previous encounters, her hunter skills kicked in quickly. It seemed that her acquaintance with these woodlands had helped her big time.
Experience drilled in. Despite being weighed down by her ageing weaponry, as well as the basic chain mail that she wore over her chest, she stepped across the clearing silently, making no noises, not even with her thick boots.
It wasn't hard to miss the newly uprooted trees, and other clear signs of a huge and clumsy disturbance. These were clear indications that she had found her targets, which meant that she was getting paid after all. A fact that was enough to put a smile on her face. Craning her neck, she noticed the familiar sight of a hastily made camp, with a fire burning in its centre...
"Kili, wait," Realising that she was no longer alone, she slowly turned around- albeit with little grace: instead, rolling her eyes while huffing- with her hands held defensively in the air, now in the view of two other dwarves.
They seemed to be just as taken aback, though they were taking much longer to adjust.
"Who are you?" The taller of the two questioned abruptly. Unlike the other, his hair was extremely fair, reminding Fith of the gold that she treasured so much. Next to him was the other, whose colourings were much darker, though his expression remained unfazed.
Looking about wearily, she replied. "I'm a fellow wanderer of these parts. Like you, I mean no trouble. Happy now?"
His expression demonstrated that, clearly, he was not. He only risked taking his eyes off of her when someone else pushed their way into the clearing.
Fith felt herself having to blink several times in disbelief. Unless she was much mistaken, a hobbit had just made his way through, judging by his height and impressive feet. She had only ever made her way through the Shire once, when she was much younger, and so while recognising one, she hadn't expected to see it in a place like this, not when they were so accustomed to luxury and comfort. In his hands were two bowls, making Fith's tummy groan at the sight of good food. How long had it been since she had a hot meal? Too long, too long...
Having not noticed the dwarves' reaction to her, he said, "Bombur's just made some soup. You should eat it while it's- why are we staring at-" Finally focusing on Fith, his voice fell to a harsh murmur, "What is that?"
Now finding herself being watched curiously by three beings, Fith thought it better to remain silent.
"Bilbo," The brunette said, turning to the hobbit, "Go tell Thorin that we're not alone. He'll want to know about this.."
Not liking the sound of this Thorin person at all, Fith interrupted him by stepping forwards. "There's no need." Gesturing to her beard, she said, "I'm just a lonesome dwarf wandering through these parts. I mean no harm."
Frowning, the three pairs of eyes fell from her face to the several mean looking weapons attached to her coat. Trying to laugh it off, so as to look less threatening than she already did (failing miserably), she witnessed their stares grow suspicious.
"I realise what it looks like..." She began, when a mighty crash interrupted her. Instinctively, they all turned, and fell to their knees, (the two dwarves having to pull the extremely confused hobbit down beside them), behind a broken tree, in time for a massive troll to walk past, breaking down several trees in its path. Seemingly making its way towards the fire, it carried a pony under each arm, something which caused the hobbit to stand up suddenly, looking mightily offended.
"He's got Myrtle and Minty!" The hobbit spun around, sending appealing looks to each dwarf. "I think they're going to eat them. We have to do something!"
"Yes," The brunette surprisingly agreed, "You should. Mountain trolls are slow and stupid, and you're so small!"
Horror dawning on his face, the hobbit began to shake his head violently, "N-n-no!-" Was the only sound that he could make.
Looking between them, Fith couldn't help but say, uncertainly, "Is this really such a good idea?"
The others, however, ignored her completely. "They'll never see you!" He continued enthusiastically. "It's perfectly safe! We'll be right behind you."
Nodding fervently, as if to counter the hobbit's constant shaking of his head, the blonde one said," If you run into trouble, hoot twice like a barn owl, once like a brown owl."
And with that, they pushed him in the direction of the fire, where a harsh laughter could be heard. Fith wasn't wholly sure, but she could have sworn that she heard the flustered hobbit mutter, "Twice like a barn owl, twice like a brown- once like a brown?" under his breath before becoming too quiet to be heard.
The dwarves were now scurrying off, talking in hushed but excited tones, in the opposite direction. Torn between taking on the trolls herself, and getting the job done quickly, or following the pair, she decided quickly.
Placing two fingers in her mouth, she whistled easily, just as she would every other day, causing the two to stop uncertainly in their tracks. Using this opportunity carefully, she jogged over.
Though both were taller than her, and probably stronger, she felt no qualms in scolding the pair. "You're leaving a defenceless hobbit to take on a bunch of trolls?" The blonde one tried to protest, but she continued, showing no mercy. "What a bunch of cowards. If you see fit to run off, and leave another to fight your fights, then feel free. I, on the other hand, intend on helping out." Giving them a final glare, she began to turn.
"Wait." She stopped, and turned back to face them. While the darker haired one looked amused at her reproach, the blonde eyed her carefully. "You'll have to come with us. Thorin will want to ask you some questions."
Raising her eyebrows at that, she replied defiantly. "No chance! I have no intentions of meeting your beloved Thorin. Tell him khahum menu rkhas shirumundu."
As she stormed across, following the steps of the hobbit and the troll, she heard the two call out after her.
"How dare you! We're not orcs!"
"I do have a beard, thank you very much."
That made her smile contentedly. She could just about hear them mutter darkly under their breaths, only being able to catch certain words, like, 'go to Thorin', 'handle her', and, 'I swear'. Not long later, she was joined by the dark haired one, who was following her at a close jog.
"Change of heart?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
HIs disgruntled expression was fading, and in its place grew the amused one he often wore, she noted. "We never intended on abandoning him, you know. It was better for us all if we got back up."
Ah, she thought, they weren't alone. "How many do you expect to come to your aid?" She asked, trying hard to keep her tone apathetic, so as not to raise any suspicion.
"Oh, a good few," He replied cheerfully.
She would have been concerned over that, truly, had she not been distracted by a familiar sounding squeal among threatening growls: the hobbit had been caught.
In unison, the two broke out into a run, through the clearing, and towards a set of thick bushes. It wasn't difficult to hear the ongoing dispute.
"He's lying," A rasping voice called out.
Peering over through the bushes, Fith saw, to her horror, that they had the little hobbit dangling, dangerously close to the fire, upside down. He was trying hard to resist them, fidgeting heavily, but it was useless.
Swinging with particular force, he weakly protested, "No I'm not!"
Three, she made a note to herself, there are three trolls.
But one thing was different to what she had anticipated. "Mountain trolls," She said aloud, much to the other dwarf's confusion.
Frowning, he turned and asked, "How do you know that? Besides, I though it was Hill-trolls that usually haunted here."
"It's part of my job. Anyway, I- Rukhas, what are you doing?"
With little warning, he suddenly ran out of the bushes.
"Surprise was everything, you idiot! Mountain trolls are different!" She called after him angrily. Groaning, and with no other choice, she too pushed her way through.
"Drop him!" The dwarf demanded.
Giving him a look of strong disdain, she muttered, "Could you be any less joyful about the situation right now?"
He ignored her.
One of the trolls, looking pretty pleased with himself, called out, "You what?"
"I said," The dwarf's voice was filled with vehemence, "Drop him!"
What happened next was not surprising, but by the time Fith realised what the troll was about to do, it was too late. With a loud, 'oof,' she fell to the floor, along with the dwarf, having had a hobbit thrown at her. Ears ringing, head pounding, she groaned, pushed the hobbit away, and dragged herself to her feet.
Fith felt as rough as she would after a night of drinking. Trying to shake her head, as if to unclog her mind, she lifted her sword defiantly at the trolls, took a couple of unbalanced steps and then, to her dismay, fell back over again.
Beside her, the dwarf and hobbit were encountering the same problem, and on her other side- she rolled over- the three trolls were slowly moving towards them, each with a particularly malicious look in their eye. Cursing under her breath, she slammed her head back down on the ground.
"I told you that surprise was key. Now look!" She hissed, reaching for her sword, which had been thrown afar by the impact.
All three collectively groaned in unison as the shadows of their assailants covered them.
This was it, Fith thought. I'm going to die in the hands of three dimwitted trolls, along with a fool and a hobbit. I really, really hate trolls, right now.
Notes:
khahum menu rkhas shirumundu - Your clan are beardless orcs
Rukhas - Orcs
I wasn't originally going to split this scene in half, but hot damn, it's long!
Thank you for reading!