Chapter 2: Dinner with Trolls
The next morning was quiet. Too quiet. The silence had returned to his smial and even though the peace and quiet had only been interrupted for one evening, Bilbo found he missed it. A little.
Bilbo got up and looked around, walking through the empty rooms in his smial. The dwarrows were gone. Not only that, but there was nothing left indicating they had stayed here. Just like with his dishes, for all that they made a mess of everything the evening before, they did seem to know how to clean up again.
If not for the dirt-strains on his mothers glory-box, he would have thought it a dream. That, and his completely empty pantry of course.
Sighing he rubbed his face and turned away from his food stores. He would need to visit the markets later, restock and... his stomach churning and decided to make himself breakfast first. A nice cup of tea would settle his stomach for sure. And later he would go to the market and refill his pantry and... and everything would be like before. Before he met his soulmate.
Entering the kitchen in a bit of a daze he headed straight for the tea-cattle and thus it took him a moment to see the contract on the kitchen table, which twisted his stomach even more into knots. He could still remember the soft whisper. The very first he had ever heard and probably the last he would ever hear. There would not be another soulmate standing on his front porch complaining of how he had got lost in the Shire.
The voice, Yavanna's Whisper that had announced his soulmate's name first, almost like wanting to introduce him to his other half, the second part of his soul. The name that was also written on this paper. Thorin... son of Thráin. It was a very nice, loopy handwriting that Bilbo hadn't thought dwarrows would use. From stories and tales dwarrows were always stubborn hard beings, and Bilbo had unconsciously thought their writing would reflect that. And what a strange way to name oneself. No last name, like the human's and elves and hobbits used. Bilbo traced the lines, still deep in thought.
He had no place outside the shire, in the big wide world, no experience, he told himself. How would he be able to handle the long, long way to Erebor and the dragon awaiting him there? Not to mention whatever they would find on the way to the mountain. Bilbo was not naive enough to think that this would be like a walking holiday.
It was suicide and having a soulmate did not necessarily mean a romantic relationship. You could just as easily live without him, or just be friends. Yes, yes, that was right. He didn't... didn't need Thorin.
So why did he suddenly have a quill in his hand, dripping with ink?
Bilbo traced the lines – his soulmate's name – again, feeling almost sick with himself now.
To hell with it. He was so going after his idiot soulmate. His mother would box his ears if he gave up on his lifelong dream this easily because of a slightly longer walk than usual and a measly dragon. What would he tell her if he didn't even try?! As if a dragon would count as a valid excuse in her eyes.
(And how was it that the thought of his mother's anger did still scare him even after she had departed to the green lands?)
And that's how Bilbo found himself running after a company of dwarrows, with a hastily packed bag and probably being the most unprepared traveler in the entire history (well, probably the second best prepared hobbit traveler... after his mother, more due to the fact that he probably was the second hobbit to ever think of going that far away...). He was just glad he was not too late and managed to catch up to them.
Well. At least adventuring was educating.
For one: He could ride a pony. Barely. Who knew?
For another: Said pony's hair seemed to offend his body just by existing. Figures.
Lastly: He forgot his handkerchief. And his raincoat. Both things essential on a journey, while exposed to the elements.
Right now, about a week after leaving the shire, Bilbo was soaked. He usually liked rain. Loved how it made everything smell fresh and clean, enjoyed the sound of the drops falling down on the ground, the leaves. He liked that. From inside his smial.
The only positive point about the rain right now? He wasn't bothered by the pony hair anymore.
The bad point? He was freezing, wet and miserable and his soulmate was a stubborn, rude, grumpy arse. Even more so in this weather.
And no. Bilbo hat not ogled the ass. Nope.
He had no idea what he had done to offend Thorin Oakenshield but it had to be severe to cause the glares send his way, whenever another sneeze forced itself out of his body. And he was ignored a lot when he didn't sneeze. Like, all the time. Whenever they set up camp, Thorin seemed to prefer to brood in isolation or have important talks with... well, everyone else but him.
At least he had gotten to know a bit more about his soulmate, due to talking to the other dwarrows. So far Balin had been the most resourceful informant, after Fíli and Kíli had teased him about orcs and wargs. He had not been frightened. Nope. Okay. Maybe a little.
Thorin hadn't taken it well, his words cutting at his nephews, but (and Bilbo was almost sure it had been intended) also at Bilbo himself. He knew that he was unused to the big world he was tramping around, even though he was learning slowly.
Balin explained Thorin's reaction. Explained about the Battle of Azanulbizar, how Thorin came to be king. Bilbo did not envy Thorin, he had lived a harsh life, endured much. Maybe that's why he was so... suspicious and distant towards strangers. Who could fault him for it, after having lived a life of having to endure so many hardships and the weight of a crown when Thorin had been far too young?
But did that mistrust have to extend towards your soulmate?
Did Yavanna also whisper to dwarrows? Or did Mahal? If so, maybe his song was … lacking. Or insulting. Bilbo curled down by himself, cold and shivering and wet, waiting for sleep to take him as he thought about what he learned.
...rule this domain...
Instantly Bilbo felt wide awake again. Yavanna had whispered to him, every now and then. Mostly part's he already knew, but despite that Bilbo always strained to listen to her voice. He wanted to hear the whole song. He had taken to carry around a small piece of paper, where he had noted down the lines he already knew. As Thorin was still refusing to acknowledge him he hoped to gain some insight to better understand his soulmate, similar to how his father had learned about Belladonna. But this night, nothing more seemed to be sung to him and after several hour's he finally drifted of to sleep. The next day on the pony was horrible and Bilbo felt his eyes flutter close several times, yawning behind his hand and hunching in the saddle, wishing he could get a shut-eye but fear of falling and getting trampled by ponies kept him awake. That and the rain that continued to fall.
Amused he listened to the conversation between Dori and Gandalf.
"Here, Mr. Gandalf, can't you do something about this deluge?" perking up, Bilbo leant forward in his saddle. It would be nice to not be constantly pelted with raindrops.
"It's raining." my, oh my, someone else was grumpy too "and it will continue to rain, until the rain is done." Gandalf said with his wizardly wisdom.
"If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard." definitely sulky. Apparently Gandalf didn't like the weather any more than the rest of them.
"Are there any?" Bilbo leant back in his saddle, but directed Myrtle closer to the wizards own horse.
"What?" Gandalf turned to him.
"Other wizards?" Bilbo specified.
"There are five of us." Gandalf explained, sounding a little more cheerful with this new topic than the weather one "Saruman the White, the greatest of our order. Then there are two Blue Wizards..." a pause then he added "You know, I've quite forgotten their names..."
Bilbo managed not to roll his eyes. He was a little doubtful about that claim but wouldn't press the wizard if he didn't want to talk about it.
"What about the fifth?"
"Well, that would be Radagast, the Brown." this time Gandalf sounded fond. It awakened a tookish desire to tease.
"Is he a great wizard or is he... more like you?" Bilbo's mouth twitched at the offended look that had gained him.
Soon after the conversation came to an end and Bilbo was left alone to fight his drowsiness.
...His brethren must go on without him...
With pounding heart he suddenly felt awake again as he listened to another part of Thorin's song. It had been about a week and a half and finally he got to hear some more. Without realizing it he had stopped his pony and only a disgruntled Dwalin snapped him out of his daze to loosen his hold on the reigns and allow Myrtle to move on again.
He mused over the lines. His brethren... that had to be Thorin's company? Or his people in general? Why would they leave Thorin, he was their leader, their king! Strange, but hopefully he would gain insight to it sooner rather than later.
When the weather finally cleared (yey! No more looking like a drowned rat! To be dry again!) and Thorin selected a spot to rest. Bilbo was grateful. While he could stay on the pony, it was by no means easy. He was sore from riding, though that was slowly getting better. And tired. And still wet. He wanted to be dry again!
That meant he had to get Bombur to let him help with preparing the food. It promised a spot near the fire for several hours while not seeming to skip his duty to help out.
Uneasily he watched the argument between Gandalf and Thorin, while he helped cooking their dinner, which ended with Gandalf storming off in a huffy-fit. Great.
The sun had set when Bilbo finally felt dry again, the food took a little longer though.
When the food was finally ready he did not complain of his hunger. But he did note Gandalf's continued absence.
"He's been gone for a long time..." he murmured and looked out over the darkening woods. The sun had set and night was falling quickly.
"Who?" Bofur asked, looking over to him. Surprised anyone had heard him, he came back towards the fire.
"Gandalf." Feeling warmer than he had been for almost a whole week put him in a good mood despite the missing wizard and when Bofur handed him two bowls, he took them without complaint to bring dinner to Fíli and Kíli, who were watching the ponies this night.
Seeing them standing where, looking solemn, Bilbo took that back. He wanted to turn around and leave and eat his dinner. There could be nothing good from those two actually acting like adults for a second. Actually he would have thought he would find them skipping their duty and wrestling in the grass. Resigning to reality he stepped between them, holding a bowl to each of them. Maybe he could still run before they explained, if only they took the bowls from him quickly enough.
"What's the matter?"
"We're supposed to look after the ponies." Kíli said, still staring off into the distance. Bilbo deflated slightly. They had not taken the bowls so he would be forced to listen to whatever shenanigans they had gotten into now. Wonderful.
"Only we've... encountered a slight problem." Fíli continued, turning to Bilbo. Bilbo stared back unimpressed. Of course they had. And he did not want to know about it. Not at all. He tried to get them to take the bowls by pressing them closer, but both dwarflings seemed immune to the gesture.
"We had sixteen..." Kíli continued and having a gut feeling Bilbo started to count, finishing even as Fíli finished with "... only there's … fourteen."
Bilbo let out an almost silent huff of breath and lowered the bowls a little, before his arms started to ache from holding them up for too long.
Yes. Casting a judging look down at the grass strains on Kíli's clothes, as well as the tiny dirt-patch in Fíli's face, Bilbo was pretty sure they had been very vigilant in watching the ponies.
"Daisy and Bungo are missing."
Still holding the bowls Bilbo followed behind the blond prince. He had a a slightly more difficult time navigating in the dark, than the dwarrows with their keen night-vision. Feeling a little lost with the situation he helpfully pointed out "Well... that's... not good." and then looking at the turned over tree, he swallowed. That was one huge tree. Not that it was huge as in standing up huge. But rather it was long, for it was lying on the ground. Tree's shouldn't do that. Nor should their roots be out of the earth.
"And that? That's not good at all." he gestured at the tree with one food-bowls still in his hands to make it more obvious just what he meant. Fíli looked at it too, while Kíli inspected the area around them in interest. It was a humongous tree. Therefore it was not an easy feat to simply mow it over in the short time it had taken to abduct the ponies. And it had been recently uprooted. The earth on the roots was still damp and Bilbo knew the smell of recently plowed ground. This smelled a little similar. There were also broken branches that would give a clue on how they had been broken off not so long ago.
"Shouldn't we tell Thorin?" Yes, this was something Thorin should clean up. It was his brood – well his sister-sons – that had gotten them into this mess. He should really get them out of it.
"Uhm... no. Let's not worry him." Fíli replied, waving off his concern as if it was a ridiculous notion "As our official burglar we thought... you might look into it?"
Giving a desert dry look at that statement Bilbo stepped over a root, to get closer, mostly to avoid having to talk louder than necessary. Who knew what had taken the ponies and if it was still around.
Besides, Bilbo was only a small, simple hobbit. He had no idea what the dwarflings thought he could do about something that was able to upturn trees.
"You are kidding right?" Bilbo sighed in exasperation "Look at those trees..." once more his hand gestured at the destruction "Something big uprooted them. Something very big... And quite possibly dangerous." Then again, he had agreed to steal from a dragon so maybe it was not too far-fetched in their minds.
Again he was ignored.
"Hey! There's a light."
Kíli came over to them after Fíli waved for him to follow and all three of them stepped closer, hiding behind another felled tree. Finally Bilbo could set down the bowls, not that there was much in them anymore. His sight at night was not the best and he had been stumbling around with them for way too long.
Indeed. In the distance he could make out the light, so there had to be a fire, but Bilbo could still not make out what else was out there.
"What is it?" he whispered to Fíli on his side.
"Trolls." Kíli answered and before he could do or say anything, the dark haired dwarf nimbly jumped over the tree and rushed into the direction of the troll camp. Palming his face he prayed for patience to the Green Lady. Turning to Fíli he realized he was alone and whimpered. Why, oh why. Standing up he rushed to follow, only to stumble to a stop when Yavanna's faint whispering picked up again.
...His brethren must go on without him...
Again with this phrase... Concentrate! Dwarflings running into a troll camp here! He could listen to Yavanna while doing something productive. Like stopping them. Bilbo, picking up the bowls again, hurried to follow after the dwarrows, but he was distracted and tried to strain to hear more of his soulmates song. The ground shook ominously. Which was likely the only reason why Bilbo did not stumble out of hiding.
A troll stepped into their view, holding another two ponies under his arms and ignoring their terrified nickering and desperate struggles to get free. The hobbit and the dwarflings all ducked behind trees to avoid being caught.
...And ensure his death was not in vain...
Bilbo stumbled again, almost dropping the bowls but catching himself before drawing the attention of the troll. Wide eyed he caught the concerned glances of the dwarrows that cowered behind the other tree.
What?
Bilbo swallowed, fighting to regain his composure. Surly he had misheard. Surly... surly his.. surly Thorin was not...
Taking a shaky breath he allowed his weight to sack against the tree, pressing the bowls to his chest to hide how badly they shook. Seemed like Fíli and Kíli would have to go without dinner.
His heart was still pounding like it wanted to explode out of his chest and there was a buzzing sound in his ears. He craned his neck around and hollowly took in the situation absentmindedly.
"He's got Myrtle and Minty."
His soulmate was clearly alive. So was Yavanna telling him he would die? Why was she telling him right now?
"I... I think they are going to eat them." he felt dazed, his heart heavy as he observed absentmindedly what was happening around him. It couldn't be that his mate was fated to die? Yavanna was not cruel. She wouldn't show him his soulmate and give him only a mourning song to remember him by. She wouldn't. Maybe it was a warning?
Yet, he had never heard of something like this happening. Of course, that could have to do with hobbits living in the shire and generally finding their match rather early, as well as living in the peace and comfort like they were, there was hardly any reason for them to die young. How old was Thorin?
"We've got to do something."
He blinked when both dwarrows turned to him at the same time and looking as if he had just revealed the solution to their problem. Wait, what had he just said?
"Yes!" Kíli enthusiastically exclaimed, nodding wildly "You should!" he stood up and dragged Bilbo forward a little, almost beaming at the bewildered hobbit.
"Mountain trolls are slow and stupid, and you are so small-"
"Me? No-" Bilbo begun waggling his fingers. Bad idea. Bad!
"-they will never see yo-
"-no, no, no-"
"-u! It's perfectly safe. We will be right behind you."
Was this some kind of joke?
Fíli suddenly stood up behind Bilbo (when had Fíli gotten behind him?), before the hobbit could muster up any sort of protest again.
"If you run into trouble, hoot twice like a barn owl -" A hand on his back guided him another step closer to the camp, before giving him a gentle shove "- and once like a brown owl."
"Once like a... and twice like a... what?!"
Snapping back he grabbed onto both of them, just as they tried to disappear on him.
"Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Not so fast." He said, scowling into their surprised faces and holding on to them, just to be sure they would stay where they were right now "Are you sure that this is a good idea? We should go and..." Bilbo trailed off. Get Thorin and the company? Yeah, right. To meet trolls. After Yavanna just told him Thorin would die. Nope. No. Not happening. Not on his watch.
This was so not happening. Laying one hand on Kíli's and one on Fíli's shoulder and hoping his face was not the grimace he felt it to be, he nodded.
"You are absolutely right. Let's go." this was so going to suck. Bilbo knew this would just … turn sour. It was a terrible idea but he was not willing to risk Thorin. He might be an arse, but at least he was being alive while being one. Bilbo preferred if he would stay like that and ignored the suspicious stares of the two dwarflings. Kíli especially looked like his sudden turnabout was fishy. Probably because rarely (if ever) anyone thought they were right or followed their plans, except maybe his equally foolish brother, who was usually just as much to blame as Kíli.
"You just... uhh... stay here. And eat your dinner." at least what was left of it. "I'll just... go over there and... take a look."
So. He had... just agreed to go into a troll-camp alone (because no, he would not drag two barely out of childhood dwarflings out there, no sir. Didn't matter that they were actually older than him by years and had combat training since their grubby hands could hold something with the use of their opposable thumbs). Without a weapon. Great. What had he said to Thorin? He was skilled at conkers. Right now an axe or sword would probably make him feel better, even if he would have to drag it behind him because the weight would be too much.
Slowly he crept through the wood, taking care to be as quiet as possible so he wouldn't alert the trolls to his presence.
Finally he reached the pen and crept closer, looking at the situation from close and ducking low to avoid being spotted.
Ah... yes. He realized the first flaw in his completely-non-existent plan. He needed a dagger or something to free the ponies. He knew who had daggers. That idiot blond dwarfling. Of course, they hadn't thought about this either. For now he tried to loosen the knots with his bare hands, but they were tight. Troll-strength tight. Bilbo rumpled his nose in disgust. It was dirty, and the smell that permeated the air was so strong that Bilbo was struggling the first few long seconds to not just start heaving.
Looking around for something to use as a knife he took in his surroundings. Bone. Bone. Another bone. Urgh, gross, was that a head? Bone, ladle, troll, bone, leather, dwarfling, Bone, b- what? He froze when he saw the dark haired dwarfling running into the clearing. One of those he had just told to stay somewhere else and eat dinner. You know, one of those that had gotten him to creep into a troll camp. He also went by the name Kíli and Bilbo would soon have to write a condolence letter to his mother, because said dwarfling would die in an unfortunate accident, if he survived the trolls.
Be blinked. Maybe it was some kind of hallu-
"Where is Master Boggins?! What have you done to him?!"
… uhm. No.
→ Bury your head into your hands. If you can't see it, it's not real.
→ Start laughing and giving your position away. Maybe it will distract the trolls enough to not kill the idiot standing in front of them.
→ Cry. You are doomed to death if that's the level of intelligence you are surrounded with.
Before he could decide on a course of action several more dwarrows came charging out of the trees, war-cries on their lips and weapons at the ready.
Bilbo buried his head in his hands. Too bad he could still hear them. Otherwise his plan might have worked.
Lifting his head he stood up. He could strangle Kíli later. Right now his soulmate was meeting trolls, and Bilbo would be damned if his soulmate ended as a pancake while he hid away behind a crudely made pen, hiding from reality. His hands flitted over his waist-pocket. Empty, except for the lone Chestnut that had hidden here from the last game of conkers he had played back in the Shire. He still had no (other) weapon. Great. But better than nothing, right?
Slowly he inched his way around the pen, looking to get the knife lying around the place one troll had used to cook. It was utter chaos to Bilbo's eyes. The dwarrows were slashing and hitting, and while the trolls did get injuries, they were minor. Their thick skin protected them from greater harm. It was terribly loud and confusing and Bilbo was sure he would be missing several limps if he so much as tried to step into the fray.
Besides, Bilbo was a little insulted that Kíli thought he would be caught that easily. Finally he reached the knife, while ducking low under a swing the troll had taken blindly at him. He shuddered to think what one hit like that would do to him. Carefully he crept forward, looking around for any other troll-swings in his direction.
Which is why he could see another troll honing in on Thorin, who was busy fending off the troll-cook. Without really thinking about it he reacted. With skill from conkers and another Shire-game called Acorn-Accuracy, he pulled out his chestnut and used a special made sling (usually for shooting acorns with accuracy and the chestnut was a little big for it), to shoot his conker-chestnut. At least he had a big target, which would excuse his inaccuracy because he had never really shot a those with his slingshot before.
A second later the troll roared out in agony, his hands flailing in the air and hitting another troll, who was knocked over by the sudden hit. Almost crushing the dwarrows that quickly scurried out of the way. Meanwhile the troll Bilbo had aimed his chestnut at continued to stomp around, through the fire – which meant that he scattered the coals and burning wood around, making it a hazard for any hobbit to take another step – before knocking over the cauldron of boiling so-called-soup.
There was a sudden, stunned stillness in the camp.
"Oops."
Even though he said it very quietly, it echoed in the sudden quiet that had interrupted the battle, while Bilbo froze in astonishment what his one conker-shot had caused. Sure, okay, maybe aiming for the eye had been a bit mean but then again, he hadn't liked the look the troll had given Thorin and the eye had made for a giant easy target. Clearly this was not completely his fault, no matter how much of an evil eye Thorin was sending over to him right now.
Which was why he was unprepared to be picked up by the remaining troll.
Okay. This was embarrassing. Maybe Kíli did have a point for thinking Bilbo would be caught easily.
Even worse was being stuffed into sacks and watching the trolls prepare for dinner, after watching Thorin plant his sword in the earth and the company following his example, all the while cursing lowly under their breath. And now the was forced to listen to trolls talk about cooking, making Bilbo twitch whenever they talked about combining herbs that really didn't go well together. It was an ingrained habit, but yes, Bilbo took affront to listening to them talk about cooking and getting it wrong. The troll – William was his name – was still holding his eye and whimpering pitifully at times, covering his injury with a hand, while sending glares at Bilbo at other times with his remaining eye. Bilbo sniffed disdainfully at it. It was it's own fault for breathing into Thorin's direction. There had been plenty of other dwarrows to pick on, besides his soulmate that had already been busy with another troll.
"What were you thinking?!"
It took a moment before Bilbo realized that an equally bound Thorin Oakenshield had actually deigned to talk to him. And look at him! Well. It was more of a furious and incredulous hiss, pressed out between teeth that were clenched tightly together in what was probably frustration, and a very intimidating stare. As intimidating as one could be lying on the ground in a smelly sack at least. Thorin sure managed to pull it off.
"Pardon?"
"What were you thinking by doing that!"
"Do... do you really want to discuss this right now? Bilbo hissed back and received a glower in return, but no further demand for an answer. Huffing to himself, Bilbo returned to listening to the Troll's planning their dinner. Bert especially was angry that his soup had gone to waste. Now he had to start again because those few dwarrows – apparently they hadn't realized he was not one himself, or simply didn't care – would never satisfy their stomachs.
"-never mind the seasoning, we ain't got all night."
In this regard they were lucky, Bilbo mused, because they gained valuable extra time to think of a strategy to escape. And he was lucky Thorin was now silent because he just got handed their plan of escape on a silver platter a moment later.
"Dawn ain't far away away. Let's get a move on, I don't fancy being turned to stone."
Right. Thank you for that information Mr. Troll! Now, his idea wasn't the greatest, it would turn out to be either brilliant or... extremely dump. With his luck he wouldn't bet on the first one, but it was better to try than to accept their fate as inescapable. If Thorin did die here, at least the rest of the company would hopefully escape. Had Yavanna tried to warn him of this? Was this the point where the Company had to go on without their leader? Bilbo felt a sharp ache in his chest at the thought that Thorin might not be able to go further. He buried it deeply, for it was distracting him when he had to concentrate right now. It was not too late yet and Bilbo... well, Bilbo was not ready to let go of Thorin yet.
"Wait!" struggling Bilbo sat up, a fire burning in his gut. Small but hot in it's anger "You are making a terrible mistake!"
Roasting over the fire Dori shouted "You can't reason with them, they are half-wits!" while Bofur complained soon after "Half-wits? And what does that make us then?"
Bilbo ignored the byplay with a condescending glance in their direction and struggled to his feet, evading attempts from his fellow sack-bound dwarrows to grab at him and pull him down again.
"I meant with the seasoning!" in for a penny, in for a pound. He had to stall them, and Bilbo was determined to at least try. Maybe they would all live to see the sunlight again. And if he happened to move so he was standing in front of his friends – and consequently Thorin – well... that was his business.
At least he had gained the attention of all three trolls, and not only the one of William who continued to glare at him with his one eye.
Bert – the cook – took a few lumbering steps towards him with a scowl on his face.
"What about the seasoning?" at least he had the troll's interest piqued. Only he had no idea how to continue his plan. But he was a hobbit and he would be able to think of something in regards to food-preparation.
"Uhm... W-well..." think Bilbo, think! This is no time to dwaddle and get scared. Even if there was a troll standing in front of him. Tilting his head back he stared up. A big troll. Suddenly Bilbo felt very small and very helpless, so much that it almost took his breath away. Shaken he continued anyways.
"Y-yes, w-well. Y-you... have you smelt them?!" not that Bilbo could distinguish any smell thanks to the polluted area they were in, except for a whole bunch of disgusting ones that seeped into each other... The smell of old blood, rotten and burned flesh and several other, stomach turning ones that Bilbo didn't want to spend time thinking on.
His words caused the dwarrows to break out in a wave of protest. Confound them!
"Y-you would need a whole lot more than a sprinkle of sage to plate them up." he raised his voice slightly when the dwarrows begun to demur and grumble, as if hoping to drown them out. It worked somewhat, since the trolls continued to concentrate on him. Still, did Fíli have to try and bite him? Surly that was going to far...
"You see... there... there is a secret to cooking dwarves..."
"Yes?" Bert perked up even more.
"Well, you see...uhm..."
"Secret? What secret?" the troll was brandishing his knife and Bilbo almost took a step back, shaking in fright, but standing his ground in determination.
"Go on, tell us the secret!"
"Yes, yes! The... uhm... the secret..." Bilbo was at a loss, what should he say? It was as if his mind was suddenly wiped blank. Bilbo found it quite inconvenient right now.
"The secret iiiiisss... toooo-"
"What would you know about cooking dwarves?" William growled at him. Apparently even trolls could hold grudges, but then again Bilbo was pretty sure that William only had one eye for the rest of his miserable life. Bilbo would be pissed too, if he was in William's place.
"Ehr... enough to … uhm... be known as one of the best hosts in... where my sort lives. And... and as one of the only ones, maybe even the only one that has had them at dinner!" true enough.
"What are you then?"
Bilbo blinked at the turn of conversation, but anything to stall time was welcome.
"Me? Well, I'm... I'm a burgl-a hobbit! Yes, yes and my kind are.. uh, renowned for our cooking. If you wouldn't mind, we could compare our recipes? Maybe we could even have a cooking match!"
He might be mistaken, but it looked like Bert did look delighted at his suggestion.
"A match!" he grabbed Bombur at his feet and dangled him upside down, while he studied him. The poor dwarf was sweating in terror while blood rushed to his face.
"Very well, a match it is. I'll prepare this dwarf, his meat looks juicy and soft."
All of a sudden Bilbo felt at a loss at what to do, when confronted with a sweating and terrified Bombur that was helpless in the trolls grip. Blinking he forced his mouth to work, not even thinking really about what to say, as long as the troll would stop looking at Bombur as if he would eat him right this second.
"Yes, yes." several dwarrows were throwing insults in his direction, calling him a traitor. Bilbo barely refrained from rolling his eyes in annoyance, of all the times to be slow on the uptake, did it have to be now?
"I have to say his meat is probably not the best to cook but it's your choice."
At once he had the attention of the troll on him again. His heart was running a mile a minute.
"Why not?!" Bombur was held close to him as if a closer look would change Bilbo's mind. Bert was not happy that his choice in dwarf did not meet Bilbo's expectation.
Stomping on the urge to laugh hysterically – because he was kind of giving a troll lessons in cooking no less! – he eyed Bombur and tried to look neutral and not scared out of his mind like he was. He was not sure he succeeded, when Bombur turned his pleading eyes on him.
"Well..." swallowing he took a shaky breath "He's... he's..." he closed his eyes for a moment so he could collect his thoughts, which was well nigh impossible while facing his friends plight literally.
"I mean, you are probably right in regard that he would be juicy, but … well, you are making soup right? I wouldn't choose that dwarf because there is... there is too much fat. It would be better if you took another one that had more muscle-mass. And... and k-keep that dwarf for later. Maybe for steak. I think he would be great for steak." he had never thought he would have to think about how to best prepare dwarrows as meals. It was a perspective he could have done without, to be truthful.
Bert harrumphed and tossed Bombur to the side, causing a wave of groans by the dwarrows that were buried under Bombur's weight, while looking around.
"Who would you take then?"
… right. Uh...
Helplessly Bilbo looked around, his gaze passing over Thorin with a pang of guilt and wincing at the looks he received in return. Maybe he did sound a little too serious in his food preparations?
"W-well..." Casting a quick glance to the sky he bis his lips. Still a little ways to go.
"... that one?" he nodded at Dwalin and instantly the dwarrows erupted in shouts and threats again. Fíli, the one closest to him was already chewing on Bilbo's sack, almost managing to trip the hobbit when he tried to shuffle away from him. It's not that Bilbo couldn't understand them, as Bert picked up Dwalin instead and critically looked him over. The knife itched closer and Bilbo's heart threatened to burst out of his chest.
"W-WELL! Well, normally you would take him but! ... But I really wouldn't at this time. Y-you know I was traveling with them? Well, that's because they are ill. Terrible business, really." he was blabbering but Bert was already holding a knife way too close to Dwalin for Bilbo's comfort and he really didn't want to see Dwalin be cut to pieces. He might be panicking a little, okay?
"Parasites! They have parasites, all of them!" seeing a flash of disgust on Bert's face, Bilbo felt a wash of relief. Sweat tickled his brow and his neck.
"We don't have parasites! You have parasites!" Yes. Terrible business. He would have to tell Kíli's mother they had not even be able to find a body. Sad story, really. At least Thorin seemed to clue in to his plan and kicked his nephew. Thank you.
"I almost ate them myself, but I wouldn't risk it. Terrible business, really. Gandalf!" Indeed, it was Gandalf scurrying over a boulder "Uh...G-Gandalf... h-he's the one who gave them to me, this Gandalf... He really fooled me! It's fraud I tell you, can't even do a good business without getting duped! Still, they are infected w-with worms of all things!"
"Ew!" Bert threw Dwalin onto the pile of dwarrows, narrowly avoiding hitting Bilbo with him.
"What a load of rubbish! I've eaten plenty of dwarves. None of them had worms!" Tom, who had been silent so far, eyes the hobbit in distrust.
"Well, you got lucky!" Bilbo tartly replied, crossing his arms (not that anyone could see it, as he was still stuck in a sack) "If you want to eat worm infested food, be my guest. I certainly wouldn't."
"What about you then?" okay, William definitely had a grudge against Bilbo. And apparently the dwarrows had finally seen through his plan and begun protesting, trying to draw attention to themselves and off of Bilbo.
"M-me?" it was a nice thought, that the dwarrows did care about him and tried to protect him.
"Yes, you are not a dwarf, but a burglahobbit..."
"Uhm." right. There was a mistake in this plan as well...
At least Gandalf was finally ready and appeared on top of the boulder.
"The dawn will take you all!" he boomed, staff raised.
"Who's he?"
"No idea..."
"Can we eat him too?"
And then Gandalf thrust his staff down on the boulder, cracking it in half with ease like one would crack open an egg over a bowl. Sunlight poured into the clearing and turning the howling trolls into stone almost instantly.
Bilbo sighed in relief and exhaustion, finally relaxing as the dwarrows around him begun to cheer for Gandalf. And if his legs finally refused to cooperate any further, he would dare anyone to say something about it.
He had probably aged like... 10 years or more in the span of just one hour or less.
But they were alive. All of them. Thorin...
A little frantically Bilbo's eyes searched his dwarf out, as Gandalf helped them to get free of their predicament.
Thorin... alive and glowering. Bilbo felt a knot in his chest loosen. With a sigh he closed his eyes and send a prayer of thanks to Yavanna for not taking his soulmate away yet.
Still... the song was bothering Bilbo a lot. So far he only had four lines, and they sounded sorrowful, almost hallow.
But Thorin was alive. He was still alive. Maybe, just maybe...
Maybe he could change his fate. Somehow. Why else would Yavanna be singing this to him, if not as a warning so Bilbo could act?
Problem? Well, they were on a quest, with a dragon on it's end. That might be a problem.
Not to mention that the way there had to hold it's own perils and Bilbo was ill equipped to deal with them.
Bilbo snorted, smiling shakily at Gandalf who helped him out of the scratchy sack and onto his furry feet with a raised eyebrow.
Well... Seems like he would just have to roll with whatever they encountered and keep Thorin out of harms ways to the best of his ability.
Easy, right?
A/N:
Okay. I definitely need a break from writing D: This was so horrible. I kept writing and writing and there just didn't seem to be an end! I have no idea what I was thinking half of the time... Bilbo with a slingshot? Cooking match?
This is the longest chapter I've ever written. It's exhausting and I was really thinking I should let you wait a little longer so I could at least get a headstart on writing the next chapter.
But knowing myself I would just continue to edit this one and edit and edit and...
yeah. So here is the new chapter for you to enjoy, two days after i released the first one. Don't expect another anytime soon! I won't, I won't, I won't! (If I keep telling myself that maybe I'll believe it.)
So... yeah. Next up is "Dinner with Elves!" Real Elves! Can you believe it?
