A/N: Hello! I'd like to thank Marina Oakenshield for her reviews and welcome the new followers/favoriters. You're all stellar.
As per usual, other than Fal and Tal and some plot-tweaking, I own nothing.
Fili, Kili, Bilbo and I raced forward through the underbrush as quietly as we could, coming to a halt as the ground began to shudder beneath us, the sound of cracking trees getting closer. Fili and Kili grabbed my wrists and pulled me down with them behind a nexus of roots, Bilbo ducking behind a nearby tree. The dear hobbit still had the bowls of stew precariously balanced in his shaking hands.
My breath hitched in my lungs as a tree not ten paces away was knocked to the ground by an enormous, boulder-like creature, a frightened pony under each of its arms. I noticed the boys' grips on my arms had exchanged for grips on their weapons. Through a break in the roots we could see the silhouettes of two other trolls besides the pony-thief.
"Trolls," Fili murmured, his breath stirring the hair by my ear.
Bilbo crept over to where we were hiding, peeking over the root wall as we did. "They've got Myrtle and Minty!" I mentally checked them off of my head count; now we were down to thirteen ponies. "I think they're going to eat them—we have to do something!"
The lads and I looked at Bilbo, surprised to see him so passionate about something other than cleanliness and food. "Yes, you should!" Kili agreed, looking excited. "Mountain trolls are slow and stupid and you're so small they'll never see you!"
I gave Kili a disbelieving look, and Bilbo adamantly refused, even waggling his finger at the young dwarf. "No ,no!"
"It'll be perfectly safe." Kili continued reassuringly, taking the topmost bowl of stew from Bilbo. "Besides, we'll be right behind you."
Fili took the rest of the bowls from Bilbo, handing one to me and giving him a light push through a break in the wall towards the fire. "Should you fall into trouble, hoot twice like a barn owl, once like a brown owl."
"Once like a barn owl, twice like a—no, twice like a…brown…are you sure this is a good—?" Bilbo stopped muttering to himself, and I heard an almost imperceptible shift in the foliage as he moved away.
I raised my eyebrows at Fili as Kili began dashing back towards camp. "You can't honestly think that Bilbo can handle this on his own."
"Of course not, which is why Kili went to go get the others and our weapons." Fili said, looking proud of his cleverness.
I ran my thumb over the pommel of my sword, thinking. If there was only one troll, I might've attempted to distract it while Bilbo freed the ponies, but there were three. Barely suppressing a groan, I realized Bilbo didn't even have anything to cut the rope I thought I could see that served as a makeshift pen. My sword was too big; it would catch and reflect the firelight, drawing attention. I whirled on Fili with a sharp intake of breath, dropping the stew in exchange for gripping his arm. "Your throwing knives, do you have them?!"
"Yes—no." He added, as though realizing what I meant to do. "No, Tal."
"My sword's too big; it'll catch even the trolls' attention. I just need to borrow one, Fili."
He gave me a look like are you stupid?. "It's not about the knife! There's no way I'm letting you go out there!"
I cocked my head at him, putting my hands on my hips, and stared right into his slate-and-hazel eyes. "Since when do you have any authority over me?! I seem to remember us both being on the same level. Besides that, you didn't seem to have any trouble at all with letting our burglar go out there!"
"Bilbo isn't you!"
I blinked at the statement, wondering at the odd red tinge to his cheeks. "Well, no, Bilbo is Bilbo and I'm me, but that's self explanatory."
"That's not—," Fili rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "Please, just wait for the others."
"Please, just hand over the knife." I retorted, impatience rising.
"Tal—,"
A startled yell from the trolls cut off whatever he was going to tell me. "Blimey! Look what's come out o' me 'ooter! It's got arms and legs and everything!"
"What is it?" another troll asked.
"I don't know," the first answered, "but I don't like the way it wriggles around!"
There were the sounds of scuffle, the ground beneath us trembling as the trolls moved around. "What are you, then? An over-sized squirrel?" The third troll questioned.
"I'm a burgl—er, hobbit!" I gave Fili a pointed look when Bilbo spoke, but he just used my grip on his sleeve to tow me forward so we could get a better look at the situation.
The trolls had Bilbo trapped, blocking the accessible exits, one wielding what appeared to be a broken longsword, the others a sort of makeshift scythe and, humorously, a ladle. The one in the apron with the ladle looked confused, yet interested. "A burglarobbit?"
"Can we cook 'im?" the first asked, eyeing Bilbo hungrily.
The one with a scythe moved forward. "We can try!"
The gourmet of the group didn't sound so keen. "He wouldn't make more than a mouthful, not when he's skinned and boned."
"Might be more of these burglarobbits around," the one with the broken sword said, expression brightening, and made a grab for Bilbo, "maybe enough for a pie!"
Bilbo tried to run and dive between the legs of the troll with the scythe, only to be caught by the feet and hoisted into the air upside-down by the one with the broken sword. "Gotcha! Now, are there any other of you li'l fellas 'iding where you shouldn't be?"
"No." Bilbo sounded almost calm, considering the situation he was in, and remarkably brave to try to lie to the trolls.
I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I turned in the direction Fili pointed to see our companions getting into position, weapons at the ready. I drew my sword as quietly as I could, Fili drawing both of his falchions, and we moved behind the troll with the scythe, still hidden by the foliage. Kili reappeared by his brother, practically vibrating with adrenaline.
But, stupid as they were, even the most idiotic of the trolls seemed able to see through his awful attempt at trickery. "He's lying!"
"I'm not!" Bilbo denied, twisting around.
" Hold his toes over the fire! Make him squeal!"
Kili roared out from our cover, slashing at the back of the knee and calf muscle of the most foolish of the trolls, who elicited an inhuman scream and nearly fell on top of Fili and me as it clutched at its wounds. "Drop him!"
"Or you'll what?" Sneered the troll holding Bilbo.
"I said," Kili dropped into a battle-ready stance, "drop him!"
The troll growled in response, and Kili had to drop his sword in order to not impale Bilbo, whom the troll had thrown, as he caught him. With a collective roar the rest of us poured into the small clearing, attacking the trolls as Kili and Bilbo got to their feet. It reminded me of sparring with Fal and his friends, except this was so much more chaotic. I had to be mindful not only of the trolls' fists and feet, but of my comrades' weapons, dodging war-hammers and sword slashes. I felt lost in the rage and the blood-lust, relying on instinct and peripheral vision to both attack and feint.
"Tal!"
I turned at my name, running towards where my burly uncle had his fingers locked together, just enough space in his hands for my boot. I vaulted off of Dwalin's hands, my loose hair blowing back as he all but threw me towards the chef troll's face, and I slashed my sword at its eyes. I grinned as it yowled in pain, momentarily letting my guard down, and another troll took advantage of that, grabbing me in its meaty fist and squeezing the air from my lungs. I gasped and wheezed as its reeking fingers tightened around me, stabbing into the space between its thumb and index finger with my sword so it would drop me, and I hit the ground hard, barely avoiding the swing of Gloin's battleaxe and a shot from Ori's slingshot.
"Are you alright, lass?" Balin asked from where he stood over me.
My hip ached and throbbed from where I'd landed on it, my palm stinging from the bits of twig and bone that had scraped against it, and I was still out of breath. "I'm fine."
I accepted his hand and he pulled me up, side-stepping as Fili sliced the fingers of the scythe-wielding troll to release Ori.
"Bilbo!" I turned at Kili's outraged cry, whirling around to see the halfling gripped by the arms and legs by the other two trolls.
"Lay down your arms!" The troll with the broken sword ordered. "Or we'll rip 'is off!"
Breathing heavily, I looked around at the others to see how they would respond. Looking absolutely infuriated, Thorin stabbed his weapon into the ground, and begrudgingly the rest of us threw ours down as well.
It was both a bizarre and humiliating experience, being forced to disarm completely and remove my armor in front of my comrades and the three trolls. Dwalin did his best to conceal me from the view of the other dwarves as I stepped into a sack provided by one of the trolls—Bert, I think he was called by the other two—though I was sure that the others were too busy to bother looking my way. I had rolled my mithril shirt inside of my linen one in an attempt to keep it hidden, rolling that bundle up in my pants, just in case we did make it out alive.
Those of us who they weren't going to cook immediately had our large burlap sacks tied up around our necks so we couldn't escape, and we were heaped carelessly off to the side, my head smacking against Kili's as I was thrown on top of the mountain of dwarves (and a hobbit). I could do nothing but watch as Dwalin was tied to an enormous spit with Dori, Ori, Nori and Bofur, the troll with the broken sword beginning to turn them over the large fire.
Of course, being hot-tempered as we all were, we would not go out quietly. I ripped and pulled at the burlap with my hands and nails as the others thrashed, kicked, and snarled insults at the trolls. I rolled to the side after being inadvertently punched and kicked one too many times in the side and head, tumbling into the space between Fili and Gloin, my legs tossed over Bilbo's.
"Don't bother cooking them!" The one with the more nasally voice huffed. "Let's just sit on them and squish them into jelly!"
I gave an involuntary shudder at the mental image. Fili bumped his shoulder against mine, giving me a half-smile I guessed was supposed to be comforting, and I bumped him back.
Bert, the apparent chef, snorted. "They should be sautéed, and grilled with a sprinkle of sage."
"That does sound quite nice." The scythe-bearer acquiesced.
The troll turning the spit sounded exasperated. "Never mind the seasoning; we ain't got all night! Dawn ain't far away, so let's get a move on. I don't fancy being turned to stone."
"Wait!" Bilbo called out, struggling underneath me, and I lifted my legs so he could wriggle out. "You are making a terrible mistake!"
"You can't reason with them," Dori wailed into the night, "they're half-wits!"
Bofur let out a self-deprecating snort. "Half-wits! What does that make us?!"
Bilbo, finally managing to stand, hopped a ways closer to the trolls, sounding out of breath from the exertion. "Uh, I meant with the, ah, with the seasoning."
I stared disbelievingly at the back of the hobbit's sacked feet, directly in my line of sight. His only complaint was what herb he was to be served with? He must've hit his head harder on the ground than I thought, if that's all he's concerned about. Though I suppose, being a hobbit, it makes a bit of sense.
"What," the aproned troll asked, leaning in towards Bilbo, "about the seasoning?"
"Well, have you smelled them? You're going to need something a bit stronger than sage before you plate this lot up."
"Bilbo!" I gasped, incredulous, my cry lost amongst the yelling of my kinsmen.
"What would you know about cooking dwarf?" the troll at the spit sneered.
Bert waved his free hand at the other troll. "Shut up and let the, ah, flurgaburburrerhobbit talk."
"The ah, the secret to cooking dwarf is, um," Bilbo started, the bag swaying as he shifted his weight.
"Yes, come on." Bert prompted, his eyes glinting with the promise of a new recipe to try. "Tell us the secret!"
Bilbo's entire body practically shook, and I could tell he was trying to use his hands to talk from within the confines of his sack. "Yes, I'm telling you! The secret is…to skin them first!"
"Tom, get me filleting knife." Bert ordered, grinning in anticipation, as my fellow dwarves bellowed at the halfling. My efforts at escape renewed, twisting onto my side so that I was partially hidden behind Fili. My heart was not fluttering because I was pressed against him so close that I could smell the scent that had lingered on his cloak and feel his body heat through the burlap (though that definitely wasn't helping); it was spasming because we were about to be skinned and flayed alive. My breathing thinned and quickened as I tried to wiggle my hands through the slight amount of space between my throat and the mouth of the sack.
"What a load of rubbish!" Tom the troll scoffed. "I've eaten plenty with their skins on. Scuff 'em, I say, boots and all."
Fili turned to look at me, face pale and mildly perplexed as to why I was practically hyperventilating into his side. "Tal?" His eyes widened as he noticed my fingers sticking out of the top of the bag. "What do you think you're doing?"
I opened my mouth to tell him to turn around and try not to draw attention to me, but all that left my lips was a startled yell as I was lifted by the back of my bag by the last troll, my rings scraping my neck as I quickly pulled my hands back down into the sack.
"He's right! Nothing wrong with a bit o' raw dwarf!" I felt bile shoot up the back of my throat at the stench that clouded from the troll's mouth as he pulled me to face level. "Nice and crunchy!"
I refuse to die like this! I bared my teeth at the troll in a feral snarl, thrashing violently as the troll's maw gaped open under me, my vicious movements unraveling my braid completely and leaving my face hidden behind my hair. "Imrid amrad achrâch!" Die a death of agony!
Bilbo hastened to remedy the situation. "Not-not that one! Sh-she's infected!"
Excuse me?!
"You what?" Tom asked from where he manned the spit.
"Yeah, she's got worms in her…tubes." Bilbo made a face, like he couldn't believe what had just come out of his mouth, before meeting my gaze. His expression beseeched me to go along with it.
By the gods, he's a genius.
The congested troll let out a sound of revulsion and flung me back on top of the others. Kili took the brunt of my fall in his stomach, the reflex making him shoot into an upright position with a groan. I apologized to him quietly while Bilbo went on. "I-in fact they all have, th-they're infested with parasites. It's a terrible business; I wouldn't risk it, I really wouldn't."
From above my head, I heard Oin begin grumbling. "Parasites? Did he say parasites?"
"We don't have parasites!" Kili barked, and had my arms not been pinned between us I would've punched him. "You have parasites!"
Our comrades were quick to call Bilbo a fool and deny that they had parasites, yelling over one another and ruining Bilbo's credibility. Twisting around so that I was essentially sitting on Bombur, I pulled my arm back as far as I could within my sack and slammed my fist into Kili's abdomen as Thorin kicked the back of his head, effectively shutting him up. The others looked to the leader of our company, quieting down at his pointed look.
"…I've got parasites as big as my arm!" Oin began.
Kili took up the cry. "Mine are the biggest parasites—I've got huge parasites!"
"We're riddled!"
"Yes we are!"
"Badly!"
Tom and Bert exchanged a concerned glance before Tom relinquished the spit to the third troll. "What would you have us do, then?" Tom asked, stepping closer to Bilbo. "Let 'em all go?"
Bilbo cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. "Well,"
Jabbing at Bilbo with one enormous finger, Tom 's voice dripped with disdain. "You think I don't know what you're up to? This little ferret is taking us for fools!"
"Ferret?!" Bilbo leaned back, offended.
"The dawn will take you all!" My breath caught in my throat as I peered through the hair that hung in my face to see a familiar wizard silhouetted against the first rays of dawn. I felt a grin stretch across my face in relief—I wouldn't be a troll's early-morning meal.
Bert squinted up at Gandalf. "Who's that?"
"No idea." Tom all but shrugged, giving the spit another turn.
"Can we eat 'im, too?" The last troll asked eagerly.
Gandalf struck his staff against the enormous boulder on which he stood, stepping to the side as the other half fell away to show the sun cresting over the horizon. The trolls shrank away from the sunlight, howling and screaming in pure animalistic agony as their flesh turned the same material of the rock on which Gandalf stood. Their joints creaked and groaned before settling permanently into their statue forms.
I roared in triumph with the rest of the company, cheering for the Grey Wizard.
"Well done, Master Baggins." Congratulated Gandalf once he was on our level, making the hobbit blush modestly. He cast a look over the rest of us, as if deciding where to start first, and with a few murmured words put out the large campfire, much to the relief of those who were trussed above it. A few more magic words and uttered curses of pain from the flash-released dwarves from the spit later, I stood off to the side of the clearing, back turned to the others and the petrified trolls as I adjusted my vest over my linen shirt, the mithril shirt cool and comforting against my skin.
"Are you alright, lass?" Dwalin asked, tattooed forehead lined with concern.
I smiled weakly, looping my sword belt around my waist. "I'm fine. I promise. Besides, shouldn't I be asking you that? After all, you were the one being roasted over a campfire like a hare."
His lips quirked in a smirk. "Aye, that's so, but you were the one almost eaten by a troll."
I clenched my jaw, hiding the shaking of my hands at the memory by fussing with my scabbard. "And what good will talking about it do? I told you I'm perfectly well."
"Tal," Balin came up from behind Dwalin, peering at me from under his bushy brows, "what's happened to your neck?"
Ah. I'd forgotten about that. I rubbed my raw throat, noticing that it was scabbing in a few places from where my rings had actually broken through the skin, small as they were. "I tried to pull open the bag enough to slip out, but then the troll grabbed me and—,"
"You wonderful, stubborn girl!" Dwalin laughed, clapping me on the shoulder. "I should've known you'd try something like that. And I'd thought it brave enough that you'd cursed in the face of death. Balin, d'you have your medical kit on you so we can heal our little spitfire?"
"It doesn't need any attention like that, Uncle." I said quickly, smiling a bit when I saw Gandalf whack the Bert statue on the head.
"Tal!" Bilbo came running over from where he had just helped Bofur into his breeches. "Are you alright? Oh, your hands!"
"Hm? Oh, right." I looked down at my hands, seeing how they were covered in scratches and scrapes, my fingertips almost to the point of bleeding from how hard I had pulled on the rough fabric of the sack, all of my nails broken with blood and filth caked underneath. I shuddered to think of what must've been on the inside of those bags. "It's nothing. I'm surprised at how well you did, though, for being such an awful liar."
He shook his head. "I feel so stupid. If I'd only thought to bring a knife with me so I wouldn't have had to try and steal one from the trolls, none of this would have happened."
"If I'd been better at persuasion, I could've given you one myself, so it's actually my fault, too." I smiled, ruffling his sandy hair and earning a cry of displeasure.
The hobbit looked taken aback. "What do you mean?"
I shook my head. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it, Bilbo."
I listened to the faint birdsong and tried to think of something pleasant as I covered my nose and mouth with my hand, eyes watering from the foul scent that crawled from the mouth of the cave Bifur and Dori had found about thirty paces from the clearing where we had almost become the trolls' supper. The stench made me think of the awful smell of troll's breath, only increasing my urge to vomit.
Nori seemed to sympathize. "Oh, what's that stench?"
"It's a troll hoard," Gandalf reminded him for all of our benefit, "be careful what you touch."
The pungent odor of troll made many of my kinsmen retch and cough alongside me, which honestly made me feel better. I quickly pushed all thoughts of how awful it smelled, however, at the sight of all of the treasure that lay within the seemingly endless tunnel.
I was conflicted. Stuff my pockets now and run the risk of smelling like troll, or leave it all here and be satisfied with what little non-troll gold I had?
As I stood in the middle of the tunnel, toeing at the jewels and gold that littered the cave floor while I thought, Fili and Kili dove right into the chests and caskets, gold pouring over the sides like water as they dug. Bofur, Nori and Gloin seemed to be in the same position as me.
"Seems a shame just to leave it lyin' around." Bofur pondered aloud. "Anyone could take it."
Gloin's eyes glittered merrily, even greedily. "Agreed. Nori, get a shovel."
I watched in bemusement as the three filled a modest-sized chest with gold and treasure. It was not a bad idea, I had to admit. Lingering in this horribly-smelling place, however, was doing nothing for my nausea, and I left the glittering cave for the fresh air outside, perching on a boulder upwind from it.
I gulped the clean air with avarice, bent over with my elbows on my knees and my hands holding my hair back from my face as I struggled with my lurching stomach. Finally, now that I was alone, could I allow myself to fully accept the reality of my situation. I had lied to Dwalin back in Bilbo's wonderfully cozy and tidy hobbit-hole; I hadn't really thought about what I was getting myself into when I signed my name under Thorin's and Balin's. I'd thought of getting out from under my brother's eagle eyes and away from the forge and the same day-to-day cycle of things. I hadn't considered the fact that my arse would be sore and bruised from hours upon hours of riding, that my back would lock up after laying so long on the ground. I hadn't taken into account that we could possibly become a pack of trolls' dinner, that I could literally be staring down a troll's gullet thinking No, not me, not yet!.
My shoulders quaked as I laughed softly at myself, straightening a bit and pulling my hair over my shoulder so I could start braiding it. I couldn't even keep my hair in order.
I jumped as a flash of something black and gold dropped directly in front of my face and settled in my lap, the chill of metal seeping through my breeches. I took up the knife in my hands, running my fingers over the engraved sheath it rested in. A royal seal was branded into the extravagant golden pommel. "Why do I…?"
"I'd appreciate it if you'd keep a hold of that for me." Fili plopped down on the edge of the crag beside me, mindful of the dual scabbard strapped to his back.
My heart flipped in my chest, blood warming a bit as it pumped harder through my veins. By Mahal, first his cloak, now his hunting knife?! "You can't be serious."
"Indeed I can," the golden dwarf laughed, raising a brow challengingly at me as he continued, "and besides, wasn't it you who was so adamant about borrowing it?"
I blushed lightly, pursing my lips a bit. "That was when I needed it to help a member of the company."
"Perhaps the knife could still be of aid to you along the journey."
I shifted more to face him, worrying my lip between my teeth, as a thought occurred to me. "This isn't because of last night, is it?"
"No." He said a bit too quickly, not meeting my gaze. "Anyhow, it would please me and ease my mind to know that you had some other weapon on your person besides the sword at your hip and the fire in your eyes."
"You don't need to worry about me, Fili."
His eyes met mine again as he smirked, bemused. "And yet I do. Now, if it's not too offensive to you, would you please equip my knife?"
"Alright!" I snapped, sliding the sheathed blade into my vambrace and making sure it was secure. "There, are you satisfied?"
"Yes, thank you." He smiled, honey-gold lashes dipping to shade his hazel eyes.
I opened my mouth to respond with a witty retort when the rest of our party burst from the troll tunnel, bristling with readied weapons and fierce expressions. Dwalin stepped between the nearby bushes and myself, ordering me to draw my sword, as there was an explosion from the bushes. "Thieves! Fire! Murder!"
A/N: I really couldn't find a good place to end this chapter, so I'll just leave this here. Thank you very much for reading, and please review!
