Inside, dwarf are eating. All sitting at long table. Table is covered in food. Dwarf are talking, laughing. Loud.
Stop talking when he comes in.
He stares at floor. Little Snaga has hold of arm. It is good. Little Snaga is claiming him. Big Man - Big Dwarf - is outside. But he does not know if it is same. Everything is different here, with Fili, with Little Snaga. With Dwarf. He has soft clothes, blue shirt. He is clean. Everything is different. He does not know rules. Does not know if other dwarf can touch him when Big Dwarf does not give permission. But Little Snaga has arm, has claim. He hopes it is enough.
Little Snaga pushes him forwards. Not towards table: past table. He breathes deep. Past table is past dwarf. Only few steps, then he will be past dwarf.
Bald dwarf stands up. Stands in way. He stops walking. Stares at floor. Bald Dwarf is tall. Not tall like Tall Man, or like Giant, but still tall. Broad in chest, shoulders. Very strong. Bald Dwarf is dangerous.
Bald Dwarf speaks. Voice is low, rough. Angry? He is not sure. Bird language, but bird words sound strange. Not fluting like when Little Snaga speaks. Strange, rough, like waves washing over gravel. Who is Bald Dwarf speaking to? Staring at him. Speaking to him? No. Why would Bald Dwarf speak to him? He does not understand words. Speaking to Little Snaga. Yes.
Little Snaga makes noise. Bald Dwarf speaks again. Sits down. Little Snaga pushes him. He goes forwards. One step. Two steps. Five. Six. And then Bald Dwarf is behind him. All dwarf are behind him. Breath comes more easily in lungs. But dwarf are still staring. He can feel them staring. Why do they stare at him?
He does not know.
Little Snaga takes him to corner. Goes away. It is good. Corner is dark. Far away from dwarf. He sits. Wall at back. Wall to left, to right. He watches dwarf. Dwarf are talking now. Not staring. Look only now and then. He watches.
Little Snaga comes back. Frowns at him. Talks. Points. He does not understand words, understand pointing. He looks at Little Snaga. Looks at dwarf. He does not want to look at Little Snaga. Wants to keep eyes on dwarf. But Little Snaga is talking. Pointing. He listens. But no words he knows. He does not understand. He wants to do what Little Snaga says. But he does not understand. Cannot even say he does not understand. Can only stare.
Little Snaga hits him on knee. Warm, weak. Something in chest loosens. Little Snaga is not angry. He does not understand what he should do, but Little Snaga is not angry. This is what hit means: it means not angry.
Little Snaga goes away. Leaves him alone in corner. It is good, be alone. Little Snaga goes to table. He hopes Little Snaga stays there long time. Maybe he can be alone in corner. No-one looking, no-one talking. Hopes.
He watches dwarf. Ten dwarf. Bald dwarf is most dangerous. Tall, broad. Tattoos on head. Scars. Most dangerous. He looks at other dwarf. All are dangerous. But some worse than others. He looks from one to other. Axe-head dwarf. Axe-head dwarf is broad. Big arms. Axe is orc axe. Axe-head dwarf very strong, orc axe in head, still living. Axe-head dwarf is next most dangerous.
Then who? He looks at other dwarf. Some old. Old dwarf less dangerous. One young, small. This one also less dangerous. Next is red-haired dwarf. Thick beard, broad chest, loud voice. This one next most dangerous.
Bald Dwarf stands up. He drops eyes to floor. Bald Dwarf is talking to Little Snaga. Both standing up. Then Bald Dwarf turns. Starts walking. Carrying tray. Walking towards corner. Towards him.
He makes himself small. Bows head, deep as can. Presses palms of hands to knees. Eyes on floor.
Bald Dwarf stops. Does not come to him. Does not grab. Too far away to grab still. Only sits on floor. Puts down tray. Speaks. Voice is deep. Growling. But - not angry. Growl is not angry growl. It is strange. He has not heard growl like this before. Talking to him? But he does not understand words. Why did Bald Dwarf come to sit near him? It is strange.
Tray. Tray is full of food. Food for Bald Dwarf? Why bring food here? Why not eat at table, with other dwarf? Food is for him?
No. No, food is not for him. He has had food. Bread, sunlight paste. Food already today. Food yesterday. Food day before. He has had food.
Tray is full of food. Soup. Bread. Fruit. Other things. He is not sure what all things are. But food. All are food.
Bread has yellow paste on it. Sunlight paste. He stares at bread. Mouth is full of saliva. Remembers how paste tasted. Light, golden on tongue. He stares.
But no. Food is not for him.
Bald Dwarf speaks. Stands up. Walks away. Stomach unknots itself. Why did Bald Dwarf come here? Did not do anything. Only left tray. Why did Bald Dwarf come here, bring food, leave food behind? He came only to bring food?
No. It is stupid. But he cannot think of any other reason.
Little Snaga pushes tray close to him. Takes some plates off tray. Points at tray, at plates. Points at him. He should also take plates of tray? Maybe. But he does not. Little Snaga stops taking plates off tray. Picks up cup from tray. Points. Tray has two cups. Little Snaga points at other cup. Speaks. Points at him.
Yes, he understands this. He should pick up other cup. Cup is steaming. Like cup from before. Boiling water. He should drink? Mouth is still sore from before. But Little Snaga said short-sharp word before. It means he was wrong. Wrong to drink. He watches Little Snaga. Should he pick up cup?
Little Snaga stares at him. Blows on cup. Stares. Speaks.
He frowns. Understands. He is supposed to blow on boiling water. Wait for it to cool. Not drink until it is cool. It was this before as well? This is why Little Snaga said short-sharp word? He picks up cup. Blows. Watches Little Snaga. Waits.
Little Snaga blows on cup. Blows and blows. At last, drinks from cup. He watches. Takes drink as well. Water is hot, but not boiling. Does not burn mouth. Water is bitter. Not cool and clean, like water in cave, in forest. But warm. Feels warm in stomach. Yes. He understands. Drink hot water, feel warm. He understands.
And something else. Before. He thinks about before. He burned mouth. Drank hot water, burned mouth. Thought it was punishment. But Little Snaga said short-sharp word. Gave him water to drink, but said short-sharp word when he drank. It is because of this? Because he should have waited until water was cool? Because of this?
Maybe.
Maybe it was not punishment. Maybe only he was wrong, should have waited. Water is bitter, tastes bad, but warm in stomach. It is so easy, make stomach warm, make chest warm. Hot water only. He had not realised before. He understands. Understands why drink hot water. And - maybe understands why short-sharp word. Maybe it was not punishment. Little Snaga has never punished him.
Never punish, that is what Tall Man said.
But why?
Little Snaga points at tray. At dishes. Makes gesture, like eating. Points at him. Points at tray. Speaks.
He stares. Stares at Little Snaga. Stares at food. There is so much food. Soup, bread, fruit. Other things. White liquid in little cup. Round yellow thing - more bread? So many things. He has never seen so much food. But food is not for him. Cannot be for him. Food already today. Food yesterday. Food day before. So much food.
Little Snaga points. Points and points. Makes eating gesture. He frowns. It is clear: he should eat. But he does not understand. Why so much food? He does not understand. But bread is near hand. Bread with yellow paste. He remembers how it tasted. Picks up bread. Watches Little Snaga. Little Snaga nods. Smiles. Stomach aches in anticipation. He brings bread to mouth. Watches Little Snaga.
Little Snaga only nods. No short-sharp word. It is right: he should eat.
He should eat.
He bites down. Sunlight on tongue. Golden, sweet. Stomach hurts. He swallows. Stares at food. So much food. Stomach is turning over. Sight of so much food makes stomach ache. He has been hungry before, often hungry. Today, yesterday, not hungry. Bread today, meat yesterday. And yet. He stares at food. Stares and stares.
He has never been so hungry.
He eats. Bread and yellow paste, eats. Three bites and then: what if Little Snaga changes mind? What if dwarf change mind?
He eats faster.
Sunlight on tongue. He will eat this first. Bread first. If dwarf change mind, take food, he will have eaten bread and yellow paste already. He stares at dwarf. They are sitting. Talking. Laughing. They do not look at him. He stares. Takes next piece of bread. They do not look at him.
Little Snaga sits beside him. Stares at nothing. Does not talk. He watches Little Snaga from side of eyes. Watches dwarf from front of eyes. Second piece of bread. Third. Sunlight on tongue. Warmth in stomach. He watches.
Then bread is gone. He stares at food. What now? Soup. He knows soup. Lifts bowl. Drinks soup. Soup is warm. Tastes - tastes different. Not like soup. Warm. Thick. Not greasy. Not burned. No gristle. No - no meat.
No meat.
He frowns at soup. Did not know could have soup, no meat. Little Snaga looks at him. Asks question. He does not know words. But does not want Little Snaga to change mind. He drinks soup.
Soup tastes good.
Then: fruit. Fruit is good. No worms, no rot. Apples, pears, berries. He watches dwarf, but dwarf do not look at him. Do not change mind. He watches.
Little Snaga speaks. He looks at Little Snaga. Does not understand words. Little Snaga shrugs. Points at food. He turns back. Eats.
And then: nothing left except yellow round things. Bread? He is not sure. Picks one up. Feels like bread, but sticky. He takes bite.
It is not bread.
He sits, frozen. It is like sunlight paste. But like bread. Feels like bread, tastes like sunlight. Soft in mouth, heavy, sticky. Sweet, so sweet. He chews. Not-bread has something baked into it. Little round things. Burst between teeth, on tongue. Berries. They are berries. Fat, ripe. Purple and red on tongue. Mix with sunlight-taste, burst among smooth, soft not-bread. He has never, never. Never even imagined food like this.
He does not understand this. Dwarf give him this. Give him blue shirt, shirt with patterns, so soft. Give him bread with sunlight-paste. Give him this, this food, he does not know word for this food. Because - because-
-because they think he is someone else.
Yes. This is why. Because Fili thinks he is litter-mate. He has told Fili. Has told Big Dwarf, told Little Snaga. But they do not believe him. This is why they give these things. He could. He could say. Say he was litter-mate. They think he is litter-mate. He could say he is. Say it, get more food. More water. He could say this.
No. He cannot say this. They will know. One day, they will know he is not litter-mate. He is snaga. They will see Big Orc's mark. Or only watch him, see he is snaga. See weakness in his heart. See he is not like them. They will know, and they will be angry. Will be so angry if he has told them he is litter-mate. Will know he lied.
They will be angry anyway.
He swallows last mouthful of food. It is not-bread, soft and sweet, but tastes sour in mouth. When dwarf understand he is not litter-mate, they will be angry. Angry to have given him so much food, given him blue shirt. Fili will be angry.
Little Snaga speaks. Picks up tray. Walks away. He stares after Little Snaga. Something is left behind. Something was under lip of tray, hidden.
It is knife.
He stares at knife. It is long, but not sharp. Food knife only. But it is knife. Even blunt knife can kill. He has seen orc cut off head with blunt knife. Takes long time. But still kill.
He stares at knife. Imagines what it is like, to have knife. Imagines holding knife in hand. Handle solid in grip. Blade held out. He could-
No. It is stupid. When dwarf realise he is not litter-mate, knife will not help. Band is fifteen, swords, axes. He is snaga, cannot have knife. He should- He should-
Knife is gone.
Knife is in sleeve. Feels it there. Cold against skin. End of knife is tucked into manacle.
He took knife.
Heart is beating too fast. He took knife. He took knife. He should put knife back. Put back before Little Snaga comes back. Before dwarf notice knife is gone. He should not have taken knife. He reaches into sleeve.
Little Snaga comes back.
He bows head. Stares at floor. Hands on knees. He feels knife in sleeve. Heart is too fast, too fast. He thinks Little Snaga will hear it. He should have put knife back. Should have put back.
Too late now.
Little Snaga stands, looks at floor. Looks around. Makes angry noise. Leaves.
Knife. Little Snaga was looking for knife.
He swallows. Stomach is too full. Too much food. Stomach hurts. Churns with sickness. Knife presses against arm. Knife. Knife. Knife.
Cannot put knife back now. Little Snaga looked for knife, did not see knife. Little Snaga will know, if he puts knife back. Will know knife was not there before. What can he do?
Cannot do anything.
Little Snaga does not come back. Sits at table. Eating. Fili, Big Dwarf still outside. Giant goes out, too. Other dwarf, Tall Man laying out beds on floor. No-one looks at him. They do not know he has knife. Maybe he can put knife back later. Later, when dwarf are sleeping.
He sits. Sits in corner. Watches. Thinks. Knife is solid against arm. He thinks about what it is like, to have knife. To hold knife. He has held knife before, for cooking, for mending and fixing. But never without orc watching. Now he has knife. No-one knows he has knife. He could - he could kill. Could cut off head, if lots of time. He tries to imagine. Imagine if Big Dwarf comes. If Big Dwarf realises he is not litter-mate. Big Dwarf, coming towards him. Angry. Could he kill Big Dwarf? He tries to imagine.
Cannot imagine.
He watches. Watches Little Snaga. Watches dwarf. Bald Dwarf? No, he could not kill Bald Dwarf. Not Axe-Head Dwarf. Not Red-Hair. Could not kill Fili. But maybe - maybe Young Dwarf. Young Dwarf is small. Does not look angry. Less fierce than other dwarf. If dwarf realise he is not litter-mate - maybe he could kill Young Dwarf. Get out that way.
It is stupid. He will not get out. When dwarf realise he is not litter-mate, he will not get out.
Knife is solid against arm. But not useful. Blunt knife, for food only. Not useful. Should put it back. But cannot put it back now.
Knife is solid. He reaches into sleeve. Touches blade.
He has not had knife before.
Little Snaga gets up. Comes towards him. But Strange Hat stops him. Talks. Gives Little Snaga blanket. Little Snaga nods. Starts to walk again. But Fat Dwarf stops him. Gives shirt. Then Young Dwarf, wool shirt. He watches. Keeps head down. Dwarf give Little Snaga clothes. Maybe need mending. Maybe it is work for him. He hopes so. Wants work. If he can show he is good snaga, maybe dwarf not kill when realise he is not litter-mate. Maybe keep. Maybe need snaga. Many dwarf, many clothes to mend, much food to cook, many things to fetch and carry. He can be useful. Can be good snaga.
Little Snaga collects many clothes, many blankets. At last, comes back to corner. Lays down clothes on floor. He watches. Waits. But Little Snaga does not show him clothes. Does not show him what he should do. Only arranges clothes on floor. Makes clothes into oblong shape. Points. Points at him, then at clothes. Speaks. Two short words. But he does not know them.
He stares at Little Snaga. Does not now how to say he does not understand. But Little Snaga knows this. Must know this.
Little Snaga says new word. SLP. Closes eyes, clasps hands, lays head on hands. Says word again. Soft sounds. Sleep.
He knows this gesture. Yes, understands. It is sleep. He should sleep. Dwarf sleep at night. He understands this. Nods. Feels knife in sleeve.
But Little Snaga is not pleased. Frowns. Speaks. Points at clothes on floor. He was wrong. It is not sleep. Little Snaga wants something else. What does Little Snaga want?
Little Snaga makes angry noise. Grabs his arm. He braces himself, but no hit, no kick. Little Snaga only pulls at him. Wants him to go somewhere. He goes with Little Snaga, tries to move where Little Snaga wants him to move. Little Snaga pushes him down onto clothes. Makes him lie down. Wraps blankets around him. Points. Says words again. Sleep. Then turns away. Lies down in blankets next to him. Turns back. Closes eyes.
He lies still. Tries to watch dwarf. But cannot see past Little Snaga. Cannot see door. Blankets are soft, warm, heavy. Food is warm in stomach. Shirt is soft against skin. He feels so warm. So warm.
But he cannot see.
Little Snaga told him to sleep. But Little Snaga made him lie down. He cannot do both. Cannot sleep here. He cannot see. Cannot sleep here, like this. But Little Snaga told him to sleep. Which is better? He should lie down, or he should sleep? Little Snaga made him lie down. But told him sleep. Told him with words, with gestures. He understood this. Told him.
He should sleep.
He crawls out from blankets. Feels cold. But shirt is still soft against skin. He touches blankets, brushes fingertips against them. So soft. But Little Snaga told him to sleep. He goes back to corner. Sits in corner. Dwarf are all asleep now. Sleep is loud. Snoring, mumbling. He watches. Feels knife in sleeve. Thinks about what he could do. Could he kill Young Dwarf? He closes eyes. Tries to imagine it.
Does not imagine killing Young Dwarf. Imagines One-Eye. One-Eye is already dead. But it doesn't matter. Knife is blunt. He will not kill anyone with knife. But lets himself imagine. One-Eye, choking, knife in throat. Blood in mouth. Eye rolling. He imagines this. He could kill One-Eye.
One-Eye is already dead.
He sleeps.
Someone grabs him. He wakes, heart loud in ears, stomach sick, breath caught in throat. Orcs.
But it is not orcs. Orcs are gone. He is not with orcs now. It is not orcs, and it is not grab. It is Little Snaga. Little Snaga putting something on him. Dwarf are still sleeping. Only Little Snaga awake. Little Snaga rubs his arm. Speaks. No words he knows. But not orcs. It is not orcs.
He sits back. Breath comes easier. But stomach is still sick. Hands are shaking. He hides hands. Stares. What is Little Snaga doing? He was not supposed to sleep? Little Snaga told him sleep. He is sure. He understood this. Was it wrong?
Little Snaga picks up blanket from pile of clothes on floor. Puts it on him, on chest, on shoulders. Wraps it around him. Tucks it behind back. He watches. What is Little Snaga doing? Should he do something? But Little Snaga does not speak. Does not give order. Does not point, does not show him anything. Only picks up clothes, one by one. Wraps them round him. Is Little Snaga trying to bind him? No. Little Snaga knows how to bind him. Has bound him before. Little Snaga is - Is -
Little Snaga is giving him blankets.
He sits. Watches. Moves when Little Snaga pulls at him. Little Snaga wraps blankets round him, clothes. Tucks some behind back, between back and wall. Some behind head. Keeps working until clothes, blankets are all gone. Then nods. Speaks. Turns away. Lies down. Falls asleep.
He stares. Little Snaga is asleep. Snoring. Little Snaga did not want anything. Only wanted to wrap blankets. Little Snaga is strange.
He is warm. He sits. Thinks about warmth. Blankets are heavy, warm. Soft between wall and back, wall and head. It is like floating. He can barely feel wall, floor. Only softness of blankets. Like floating.
He watches. Dwarf are all sleeping. Hands are hidden under blankets. He turns hands. Palms point up now. He curls fingers. Fingertips brush against blanket. Blanket is so smooth, so soft. He curls fingers, uncurls. Curls again.
Dwarf are all sleeping. Everyone sleeping. Hands are hidden. He raises hand. Touches pattern on shirt front. He cannot see pattern now. Shirt is under blanket. But can feel ridges under fingers. He traces ridges. Remembers what pattern looked like. Black, winding. Like scars, or water.
It is too much. He does not understand. Food - so much food. Sunlight-bread. Water. Blankets, so warm. Blue shirt, patterns. All these things. Too many things. One thing would be enough. Enough for memories for many days. But there are so many. His throat aches with it. All this - all this. Because they think he is litter-mate.
He is not litter-mate. But if he was - he would have this. He would have this, maybe for days, weeks. If he was litter-mate.
He is not litter-mate. He is snaga. Dwarf do not understand. But they will understand. And when they understand - what then? He has had all this. Should not have had these things. But he has had them. What then?
He feels knife, solid against arm. Dwarf are all sleeping. Not even one dwarf awake, watching. He cannot kill dwarf with knife, not while dwarf awake. But dwarf are sleeping. All sleeping. He could take knife. Could slit throats. Quiet. If quiet enough, no dwarf wake. Could kill all dwarf. And what then?
Go back to Big Orc. Maybe cut off Big Dwarf's head, take to Big Orc. Show Big Orc. Maybe punishment not too bad. Maybe it is not too late, after all. Could kill all dwarf, kill Giant and Tall Man, kill Little Snaga.
No. Does not need to kill Little Snaga. Little Snaga is small. Short legs. Cannot catch him. Does not need to kill Little Snaga.
He slips knife from sleeve. Holds knife, hidden under blanket. Maybe tonight. Maybe tomorrow dwarf will realise he is not litter-mate. Maybe tonight, slit throats. Cut off Big Dwarf's head. He could. He could.
Blankets are so warm.
He wraps knife in cloth. Tucks behind him, between him and wall. Maybe dwarf will not realise tomorrow. Maybe can be litter-mate one more day. Food, water, blankets. Maybe one more day. And if they do realise. If they do realise.
Maybe it is worth it.
