Alright, it's time for some troll-baiting!
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Chapitre 3: Get smarter
Gandalf looked over the camp, making sure that no dwarf had remained behind, snoring his head off, maybe, but no, there were only him, and the three youngsters he had found a little further away. Resigning himself to have to deal with it alone, he sighed.
"You three stay here. I don't know if you have trolls in your world, nor do I know if they are the same kind of trolls, but I do know those vile beasts have made an habit of eating all that breathe, including sentient beings such as ourselves. I have to..."
But before the old wizard could finish, James spluttered in indignation at being dismissed so.
"We want to help! Our trolls surely aren't exactly the same, but back home, they tend to smash people to a pulp with their clubs. I'm definitely not letting you going against a troll alone, Gandalf! We need you to get to Rivendell!"
The wizard gave the teenager a stern look.
"Nothing will happen to me. It is nearly dawn, and our breed of troll is stupid, and luckily they get petrified if they are touched by the rays of the sun. All I need to do is keep them occupied until the sun rise. It is possible that they are, even now, arguing over how to best cook a dwarf, or what is the best sauce to go with a hobbit. If they haven't already eaten my company, that is."
James was about to insist, but Sirius cut him to it, his voice composed and his face grave.
"You seem to have forgotten Remus' ankle, Prongs. He can't run away if something goes awry, and we don't have our magic ready to use. You two don't have a staff, and I'm pretty sure there is a risk I roast Gandalf's companions as well as the trolls if I try anything. We're just not fit to fight right now."
"Sirius is right, James. We don't even have regular, non-magical weapons to defend ourselves with."
James still looked unconvinced, and Sirius noticed that Gandalf was getting more nervous as time passed. He guessed he couldn't blame the wizard, after all, each minute they spent arguing was another minute for the trolls to kill the dwarves and the hobbit.
"Look, James: you'll stay here with Moony, just in case, and I'll go with Gandalf. I can't exactly use my magic well, but at least I can do it, if messily. Moreover, I think you have actually hit your head when we got here. I'm the only one who's not wounded or a bit lost. Also, it seems trolls here can talk. You know me: I can't seem not to irk people. If Gandalf is alright with this plan, I'll be the one doing the talking, and he will ensure my protection until the sun gets to the trolls."
Then, the young elf stared at the wizard, as if to dare him not to agree to his plan. Gandalf rolled his eyes, and gestured for Sirius to follow him. One in danger was still better than three, and at least the youth's plan seemed sensible enough to work. It wasn't as if trolls were particularly clever.
As the elf and the wizard moved away and to the fire that was the trolls', Remus tried to share a worried look with James, but apparently the animagus was too busy glaring at the retreating back of his fellow animagus friend. The werewolf sighed, but his sigh soon became a groan.
James' attention darted back to Remus, and he almost forgot about the danger Sirius and the old wizard had just decided they'd walk into.
"How's your ankle?"
"I've known worse."
James smacked his friend on the head, though he did not put much strenght in it.
"That's not what I asked. You tend to get your bones broken and restructured three nights a month, and you used to bit yourself in pain not so long ago. I know you've known worse."
Remus rolled his eyes, and eyed his swollen ankle. The skin of his heel had gone a disturbing magenta that turned green around the edges. As long a he kept still, he just didn't sense it, but every time he would try to move a bit, a dull pain would make him wince.
"It's not so bad. The bad thing is just that there is no Poppy Pomfrey to get me back into shape in a wink. A sprained ankle would only take a few minutes to heal, in our world, but I don't think there is this kind of magic here. If anything, I'm sure it isn't Gandalf's strong point, if there is.
James snorted a bit, before he went back to staring at the trees where the old wizard and his friend had disappeared.
"Magic truly is different here, eh?"
"I thinks so, yes. We'll have to be careful with what we do."
Remus joined his friend in waiting anxiously for Sirius' and Gandalf's return, if possible, with the wizard's companions. He hoped nothing would go wrong.
He wasn't the only one, of course. Sirius especially was thinking along the same lines, though he wasn't actually worried. If the point was to confuse a group of idiots into losing time, he was the right man, sorry, elf, for the job. Even if the idiots were a group of trolls, and even if he wasn't actually certain about what trolls could do in this world.
Oh well. He'd just have to stay out of reach.
And try not to annihilate anything with accidental magic.
Though if the "anything" were the trolls, he guessed it wouldn't be so bad. But if the "anything" was Gandalf, the hobbit or a dwarf, he wasn't sure he would be able to support it.
Damn it all. That was exactly why wizarding children went to Hogwarts or another school, or at least were tutored at home. Muggle-borns had to go to school for that exact same reason. Accidental or uncontrolled magic wasn't so bad when it was done by a child, but if it happened to an adult... Depending on his level of raw power, and in special cases on the peculiarity of their magic, it could get really bad.
And Sirius knew very well that he was in both categories: high raw power, what with him having twice the amount of power he should have, and peculiar magic, with his affinities with the Dark Arts. If his magic went ballistic, it would revert to its most comfortable state, meaning, a big and very dangerous explosion of dark magic.
The teenager hoped he could get someone to teach him how to handle the new way his magic worked. Gandalf seemed to know a lot, but he had to rely on a staff, so it wouldn't do, because he couldn't demonstrate. Speaking of which, lucky bastards, Remus and James, they couldn't do their magic without a vector, in this world, not even accidental magic, it seemed. No, really, he'd need to find an elf who could show him how not to let his magic loose... He hoped there was one in Rivendell. After all, he had no idea how long it would take them to go back to their world... if they even managed to go back, that is.
Before him, Gandalf stopped, and made a sign for him to keep quiet.
Sirius banished the depressing thoughts to another part of his mind, one that preferably wasn't going to be needed for their encounter with a bunch of trolls. Then, he took a step to the left, and looked over Gandalf's shoulder to get a glimpse of a small clearing.
A clearing with three huge things standing around a fire, whose smell only made the young elf cringe. He seemed to have gained a better sight, hearing and sense of smell than before, with his transformation into an elf, not that they hadn't been good before. Anyway, the point was that he'd rather not have been able to see each detail of the trolls' figures as he could now, and he would have also preferred to have a lesser sense of smell.
Sirius mumbled under his breath, as he searched for the dwarves and the halfling Gandalf had told them about, and whose voice could in that very moment be heard in an effort to keep the trolls arguing as long as possible about cooking time.
"They're smaller than in my world, but no doubt, with that stench, they are trolls... Though they seem a bit more intelligent than they are back home."
He glanced at Gandalf, who was eyeing the big boulder on the eastern side of the little clearing with a thoughtful expression on his face.
After a moment of reflexion, the wizard looked at the young elf, as if searching for something on his face, half-expecting it not to be there, half-hoping it would be there. Maybe he was in search of fear, to see if Sirius was, as anyone should be in that situation, afraid, or at least a bit anxious.
As it happened, Sirius was neither, and so Gandalf sighed, wondering if the youth even had something he feared, or if he was just utterly reckless.
"I fear mister Baggins is getting short on tricks to keep them occupied... and three trolls might be a bit too much for me to take on, without endangering my companions, that is. Do you believe you could keep them occupied long enough for me to get to that boulder and break it, so that daylight would arrive upon them faster?"
Sirius gave him a smirk, and that day Gandalf saw something he had not seen on an elven face for long, but not too long. He had hoped he would never see it again. The old wizard shivered, knowing full well it wasn't it, even if it looked like it. Yet it looked too much like cruelty for him to feel right about it appearing on an elven face.
"Oh, they won't notice you moving around, I can assure you."
The young elf pushed his hair behind his ears, for what he was, for what he had become, to be obvious. He straightened his back, and a freezing smile took over his face.
"Now, let's see how stupid these trolls really are."
Gandalf watched the youth one last time before he moved around to try and get to the boulder.
He really hoped he wouldn't have to wait for too long, and so to expose Sirius to danger any longer than necessary. He knew he had to wait for the sun to be up, just enough so that when he'd break the boulder the trolls would be instantly petrified, but before the first glow could pass above the rock and warn the trolls of the impending danger. After all, there were always a few minutes, at dawn, when the petrification wasn't instantaneous, a few minutes when the light wasn't strong enough yet, and that the trolls could use to take their prisoners with them and hide from the sun.
If it came down to that, of course, Gandalf would still be able to save his fellow travelers. Just, not without risk. And possibly not all of them.
As the wizard made his way behind the trees in a fashion that kept him unseen, Sirius walked in the clearing.
He waited patiently for the three trolls to stop bickering over intestinal parasites, eyebrows raised and fingers tapping lightly on his hip. He could see the halfling, or hobbit as Gandalf had called him, standing in what looked slightly like a potatoes bag, and staring, flabbergasted, at the newcomer. That is, at him. A few dwarves had been tied around a spit, with a fire going on under them, but the trolls had been so busy arguing they had forgotten to take care of the fire. The last dwarves had been tossed in a corner, all of them tied in bags like the hobbit. Some of them were trying to convince the trolls they tasted terrible, but the others had started to take notice of him.
Sirius refrained himself from giving the trolls an annoyed glare. With them not noticing like that, he might just have nothing to do in this rescue mission. Gandalf wouldn't even have to break the boulder, for the fools would just go on and on until dawn took them.
This was so not going to happen...
Sirius cleared his throat, instantly getting everyone's attention. Yes, even the trolls'.
The trolls were stupid, that's true, and they had some difficulty with the idea of focus, but as soon as they heard the disdainful sound that came from another direction than their captives, they thought that maybe someone had been kind enough to come and add themselves to their dishes. So obviously, they stopped bickering, and turned to look at the stranger / potential dish.
Said stranger / potential dish happened to be an elf. The trolls watched him for almost a full minute, before Tom finally asked:
"Who are you?"
The unknown elf's smile grew larger, and everyone in the clearing thought something was very wrong. There was something wrong with that smile, as if it didn't belong on an elf's face, even if, as any dwarf would tell you, elves were mostly bastards anyway. But there laid the problem. Bastards, yes, but smooth-faced bastards. They never looked like that.
"Sirius Black, master troll."
Tom blinked at the civility, sensing that there was something strange, but unable to pinpoint it. It wasn't as if trolls knew what sarcasm was, anyway. They had heard of it, they may even have heard some, but they had never understood what it was.
Bert turned the spit with the dwarves on it once, scratched his ugly head, and narrowed his eyes.
"And what do you want, Sirius Black?"
At the repetition of the name, two dwarves exchanged a look. It didn't sound elvish at all, though it had a nice ring to it.
The elf's smile become thinner, and he turned to look at the dwarves in contempt.
"You aren't seriously considering to eat those, are you?"
Thorin growled something rude in his beard, but the elf ignored him, though the King-in-Exile could just tell the bastard had heard him. He just knew it. He had seen the amused glint in the elf's eyes, and that confused him greatly.
The last troll, William, looked at the dwarves and indulged in some nose picking.
"Of course we are. We're trolls. They're dwarves. Dwarves taste goodish. We eat dwarves."
After this magnificent speech, the troll squinted his eyes as if he had just had the revelation of the Third Age.
"Elves taste good too. Better, maybe. We should eat you."
At that, one of the dwarves, possibly Oin, even if with all the piling up of dwarves Thorin wasn't sure who was where, one of the dwarves shouted something about how it was a great idea, and they should just eat the elf, since he tasted better, and leave them alone. Black gave him an evil look, but it disappeared the moment it appeared, and the elf was looking back at the trolls.
"Of course you should. In fact, there's a saying that what you eat makes you smarter. I'm positive that if you eat these... dwarves, you will definitely get stupider."
Several dirty looks were sent Sirius' way, but as always, he ignored them.
Meanwhile, the trolls were trying to decide if it had been a compliment or an insult. Needless to say they were having a hard time figuring it out. The fact that they had never heard of such a saying didn't help.
Sirius glanced at the sky, to find it a worryingly-still-dark-color. It had turned a bit pink, sure, but it still was dark pink, and Gandalf would need a bit more time, it seemed. So he went on.
"It would be a shame for you three to get more stupid because of some dwarves that will only taste... well, like dwarves. You are already especially clever for trolls, you know. Where I come from, trolls can't even speak. Imagine that!"
Bert, Tom and William seamed really pleased to learn that there was a place in the world where trolls were stupider than they were. It made them feel as if they were of superior breed or something. Of course, Sirius didn't bother to tell them it was in an altogether different world.
Still, William was hungry, and he was totally agreeable with eating the dwarves as well as the elf, even if he risked to become more of an idiot because of it.
Not that there was much to lose to begin with.
"I don't care. Bert, Tom, let's just roast the elf with them."
Sirius scrunched up his nose, and cast another look of contempt at the poor dwarves, who had almost forgotten about his distasteful comments about them in their fear to be eaten. Just for good measure, you know. He had to act the part.
"You really are determined on eating them, aren't you? You must be more stupid than I thought. Dwarves are disgustingly foolish, and it will only rub off on you. I, on the other hand... Eating me could actually make you so much smarter that you won't even be able to recognize your own mind."
There were some screams of protestations coming from the dwarves, but mostly the unfortunate fellows, as well as the hobbit, were gaping at the elf, having realized that the stranger was offering himself to be eaten, which seemed a bit odd, truthfully.
Sirius' smile vanished, letting a thoughtful look take over.
"However, I suppose there isn't enough of me to make you cleverer if you share. Maybe you should decide which one of you should get the honor and the glory."
The trolls blinked at the elf a few times, then Bert punched Tom in the face.
"What you're doing, you dumbass?!"
"I'm not letting you become the most intelligent of us! I don't want you to use your newfound intellect to keep the best part of what we get to eat to yourself! This elf is mine to eat!"
William watched them stupidly as they exchanged punches. The dwarves were watching the match with interest, hoping that maybe the trolls would get rid of each other and they would only have to deal with the one remaining, nevermind that they were all tied up in potatoes bags. Bilbo Baggins was staring, wide-eyed, at the elf who had gotten the trolls to fight between themselves, and who, now that his deed had been done, was watching the scene unfold with mild interest, his left hand on his nose because of the horrid smell that came from the trolls.
William had just gotten a kick in the ribs from Tom, even if he hadn't even asked for the elf, when Gandalf finally climbed up the boulder. The trolls stopped fighting altogether to stare at the newcomer, hoping that maybe, it was a second elf, so that two of them could get smarter, while William would just stay dumb, since, you know, he hadn't bothered to even ask in the first place. Maybe he liked better being stupid.
The old wizard's voice boomed over the small clearing, as he called for dawn to take them all, and be stone to the trolls. Sirius sighed in relief when, with a single hit of staff upon stone, the boulder broke into two parts and let the sun fall upon the monsters. As much as he knew he had handled the situation just fine, he hadn't been very fond of the trolls. Seeing them writhe and stiffen as they turned into stone, hopefully forever, was a relief.
The teenager also took notice of the fact that no staff could shatter a boulder like that, without magic. In fact, he knew no magic in his world that could do that without actually blowing the rock to smithereens, which could prove to be very dangerous for the people standing by. Maybe this kind of magic came with the use of a staff...
If that was the case, James would just be overjoyed to get one when Sirius couldn't. James had always dreamed to show off, seemingly enhanced strenght for example, which could only be granted by a potion back on Earth... and it never lasted long.
Sirius turned to the hobbit who was still staring at him as if he was the Messiah, but mixed with a dragon or something equally frightening.
"I'll get you out of this, come on."
Bilbo Baggins just nodded at the stranger, still astonished by what had happened over the night. He was quite proud of his having delayed the trolls, but not so much about getting caught in the first place, and he certainly didn't know what to think about the latest events and about that strange elf.
Who, now that he got a closer look at him, seemed young. Of course, Bilbo knew that all elves looked young, but this one looked younger than young. Not adult-young, but minor-young. The hobbit wondered what a youth was doing on the road, offering himself as troll-food and eventually getting the monsters to fight between themselves instead of eating him.
Then he remembered that he still wasn't sure why he himself was out there with a company of thirteen dwarves and one wizard, so he wisely choose not to pry. People did what they wanted, and far from him the idea of being nosey.
While Sirius helped Bilbo out of his bag, Gandalf jumped down the boulder and went to help the others. After he and the young elf had freed everyone, there was a quick conversation about the wizard's leaving, his coming back, and the fact that Bilbo had succeeded in stalling for some time.
After that, Thorin glared at Sirius and asked why in Arda there was an elf here.
Before the old wizard could say anything, the teenager snorted.
"The elf here just took part in saving your life. You could be a bit more polite."
The King-in-Exile threw him another dirty look, but it was another dwarf, Bombur, who spoke first.
"I don't see why we should be polite to someone who insulted us!"
"If you can't tell it was all to get the trolls to fight amongst themselves, then you are dumb indeed. I have never met a dwarf before, so how could I know if they are idiots or not? Moreover, I was talking to trolls. I doubt their point of view about you matters much... especially considering the state they are in now."
Sirius was looking at Bombur as he spoke, but for a moment his eyes shifted to Thorin. There was a hard edge to his gaze, as if he was speaking these words especially for the King-in-Exile. Thorin didn't miss the hints, and his own gaze became even colder, if that was possible.
"It still doesn't give you the right to insult any of us, elf."
Sirius gave the dwarf a short laugh. His voice was glacial when he answered.
"Tell me, master dwarf, would you rather be dead, or offended? An insult can be mended with apologies, a kill cannot. Besides, the world is an unfair place. People judge you all the time, from your garments to the family you come from or the way you speak. You should learn not to care for the opinion of those who know nothing about you, or you will be hurt more times than necessary."
And on that, all the dwarves and one hobbit watched the glares between Sirius Black and Thorin Oakenshield. One wizard sighed, praying for his life to be simple for once.