A/N: This is officially the longest story I've done. It's about 23K words and it's the longest . . . That says something about how jumpy my muse is.
In this chapter, we'll see other POVs other than Bilbo's. I hope I do them justification!
Thanks for all the comments, favorites, follows, and (almost 300!) kudos! I'm not ashamed to say that those things have inspired me to keep writing!
DISCLAIMER: Bilbo Baggins is mine! *gets trampled by a million fangirls* Okay, fine, he's ours! But The Hobbit is solely Tolkien's and the movies are . . . many someone's.
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"Hey, Kee. You know I trust Bilbo but . . ."
"I don't really think this is a good idea."
"Aye. That . . ."
". . ."
". . ."
". . ."
"We should have gotten Uncle."
"Yes, we should have, Fee."
"So . . . you get the others and I stay here to watch over Bilbo?"
"No way, Fee. You're the older one here. You tell Uncle what's going on."
". . ."
". . ."
". . . I really wish I'm not the older brother sometimes."
"Only when you have to take responsibility for the consequences. You always like being the older one when you have to order me around."
"You are a brat. Of course you need to be ordered around."
"Yes, yes. Now, are you going to inform Uncle or are we both going to just sit here and watch as Bilbo gets trampled by trolls?"
" . . . Fine."
"Also, tell Bombur that the stew was delicious!"
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From a distance, trolls were such ugly big creatures with unproportioned bumps on their faces and in their bodies. Up close, they were much worse because now, their acrid smell permeated the air. Bilbo wrinkled his nose, wishing he could have brought the makeshift hanky Bofur gave him.
"Mutton yesterday, mutton today. And blimey, if it don't look like mutton again tomorrow," one troll whined.
"Quit yer griping," the one holding the ponies growled. "These ain't sheep. These is fresh nags!"
"Oh I don't like horse. I never have. Not enough fat on them."
From the hidden shadows of the camp, Bilbo stared at the large beasts. Their feet were twice the size of a full hobbit, and would surely easily squash one. There would blood and gore everywhere but this was a forest so the soil would just absorb the remains. Bilbo knew that being stepped on by those overweight troll would be an instantaneous end. Oh, less pain and more of blissful darkness.
One of the trolls sneezed on the pot they were cooking over a hearty fire.
"Well, that's lovely, that is. A floater," the apparent cook of the group said, no hint of sarcasm in his tone.
Bilbo winced in disgust. Well, what he read about trolls was true; they liked to eat things that are as vile and as rotten as their teeth.
Their teeth. What about being eaten then? Bilbo's body could easily be torn in half between those strong blunt teeth. It would no doubt be more painful than being stomped on but it was an exciting death indeed. He would be swiftly lifted off his feet, and would be in the air for several wonderful seconds. Then, those chompers would dig into his skin and then . . . nothing.
Bilbo tried to calm his labored breathing, heartbeat rabbiting in his chest. He couldn't stop the hysterical giggle that escaped his throat. He couldn't believe it; after several years of deliberating how to end his life, here it was. A perfect opportunity for a death quite unlike any other. His Took side was practically jumping in glee, urging him to move his feet and present himself to his doom. Not another breath would be taken, not another person to burden . . .
But the Baggins in him reared itself into the forefront of his mind. "You made a promise, Bilbo, you daft fool," he murmured to himself. He shook himself out of his suicidal contemplations. He had promised Fili and Kili that he would try his best to get the ponies. A Baggins always honored his word.
Bilbo sighed in resignation. An exhilarating death by the trolls' hands would have to wait.
He edged around the trolls' camp, making sure to stay hidden in the shadows. After a few minutes of skulking, he reached the stable where the horses were kept prisoner. Fortunately, all three trolls had their backs turned to the said stable. Unfortunately, the ropes keeping the structure enclosed was too thick and heavy for Bilbo to untie. He attempted it a few times, each try ending in a frustrated groan.
The hobbit looked around for something to cut the rope with. The best thing he could find, of course, was the small sword strapped around the closest troll's loincloth. Bilbo shrugged and walked closer, not bothering to quiet his steps.
When a big meaty hand grabbed his whole body and lifted him up, he wasn't truly surprised. He was, however, shocked to be used as a handkerchief. The next thing Bilbo knew, he was covered in troll snot. He blinked up at the wrinkly face of a troll.
The troll holding him screamed. Bilbo would have laughed at the shrillness of it had he not been utterly dismayed. His best waistcoat was ruined! By troll snot, no less. He looked glumly at the sticky sleeve. Then, he realized he was covered in the disgusting stuff and promptly breathed through his mouth. Goodness, these trolls were utterly revolting.
"Blimey!" the troll exclaimed. "Bert, Bert!" He called to his companions, getting hysterical by the minute. Bilbo found himself the subject of three curious glances. "Look what's come out of me hooter!" By Yavanna! These trolls really were slow and stupid. A hobbit, coming out of his nose! "It's got arms and legs and everything."
"What is it?" the cook, Bert, asked, looking at Bilbo with a contemplative gaze.
"Good evening," The hobbit greeted with a nod, thinking he might as well be polite to his killers and advocates of his cause.
"It speaks!" one called William said, looking to his companions for confirmation. "What are ye then? An oversized squirrel?"
"A squirrel!" Bilbo squeaked, offended in behalf of all the hobbits in the Shire. "Why, I am a hobbit, good sirs!"
"A hobbit?" the troll holding him—Tom, was it?—leaned in as if to get a better look. Bilbo's eyes widened with delight as those perilous teeth came near him. "Never heard'em before."
"Can we cook him?" Bert asked, ladle raised.
So, he was to die by stew then. "Of course you can!" Bilbo exclaimed, gesturing widely.
The three trolls startled at his enthusiasm. "We can?"
"Yes, of course." Bilbo nodded repeatedly. "However, you have to do it right to get the best absolute flavor." Bilbo, after all, had no plan to die a painful and slow death like being boiled in soup. "First, you must take off my head."
"We can't eat your head?" Bert narrowed his gaze at him, skeptical.
"Oh, you can," Bilbo amended, quickly trying to think of something. "But . . . But cutting off the head will make all the . . . b-bad blood flow out of the body, you see."
"But I like the flavor of blood," William griped.
"No, no, no. But not this blood. Bad blood, you see, um, are poisonous. Yes, they are! Very toxic."
The trolls' eyes widened. "Yer poisonous!"
Bilbo gaped, realizing his mistake. "Wha—No, I meant—" Too late to correct his mistake, it seemed. He flew into the air as Tom threw him like a rag.
The hobbit landed hard on his stomach, breath stolen from him by the impact. He gasped and spluttered onto the wet soil. His chest felt like it was on fire and getting up apparead to be beyond his capability at the moment.
"A poisonous creature! And we almost ate't," one of the trolls said.
"What should we do with it?"
"Kill it, I say. Stomp on it, Tom."
Well, Bilbo might not have been eaten but he'll happily settle for a being squashed. He turned on his back and closed his eyes, waiting. Just a few more minutes . . .
"What? Why me?"
"Yer the one that sneezed it out!"
"I dun want to do it! It says it was poisoned, innit?"
"Just when we it eat, Tom."
"But what if it melts my foot if I step on it?"
Bilbo sighed as the trolls continued to argue. Of course, his death wouldn't be that easy. Of course, only he would find the only trolls in Middle Earth who refused to kill him. He opened his eyes as he sat up, gritting his teeth against the pain in his chest. "Excuse me!" The mere call made his lungs constrict and he coughed for a few moments.
At least, he got the trolls' attention. "As I've said, I'm not really poisonous when cooked right. I was about to tell you, actually, that hobbits are the tastiest morsel in the whole of Middle Earth."
"Really?" Bert asked with a malicious gleam in his eyes. He swiftly grabbing Bilbo in a suffocating grip. Oh, Bilbo hadn't thought of being squeezed to death. It sounded marvelous. "Are there any more of you little fellas hiding where you shouldn't? You wouldn't make more than a mouthful."
Bilbo's eyes widened in panic. He hoped Fili and Kili had already gone to inform their uncle, and was as far away from here as possible. He struggled to say, "Uh—oh no. I'm a-afraid not."
As if on cue, Kili made his entrance. "Drop him!" He commanded, wielding a large sword.
"You what?" William asked, the slowness of his mind evident in his features.
"Kili, you mad dwarf!" Bilbo couldn't help but shout in both frustration and dismay. "I told you to go!"
The young dwarf ignored him, opting instead to stare down three large trolls. Oh, dear, this foolish boy! Bilbo turned to Bert and said, "Oh, that, that dwarf doesn't taste good. At all. Really, you shouldn't—"
"I said . . ." Kili growled, cutting off Bilbo's attempts to save his life. "Drop him."
Bert released an animalistic snarl. And then, Bilbo was flying the second time that night as the troll threw him towards Kili. The hobbit and dwarf landed in a heap on the forest floor.
Chaos erupted as the rest of dwarrows came charging from the trees.
No, no, no, Bilbo chanted in his mind. No one else was supposed to get involved. The boys hadn't listened to him! Kili pushed himself up, helping Bilbo up in the process.
"Get to safety, alright?" Kili clapped a hand on Bilbo's shoulder before joining in the fray.
Dwarrows with their assortment of weapons slashed and stabbed the three trolls. However, the trolls' skins were too thick and leathery; they barely drew blood. Bilbo's heart skipped a beat as Fili almost got himself flattened by a troll foot, and as Ori's head almost got ripped off by one of those meaty fingers. Everything was happening so fast that Bilbo almost couldn't follow it.
I must do something! Bilbo felt utterly useless as he watched the dwarrows fight for their very lives. He had caused this so the least he could do was to be of use. When he heard the ponies neighed in distress at all the commotion, the hobbit knew what he had to do.
He carelessly charged into the battlefield, weaponless and tactless. And if he somehow got killed amidst the battle . . . well, no one could be blamed. A troll foot came excitingly close to his head. But Bifur swerve it away with quick swing of his mace.
The dwarf shouted something at Bilbo, pointing at the forest. Bilbo merely nodded, and proceeded to get deeper into the troll's camp. He got nicked by the dwarrows a few times but the wounds were mere cuts and bruises, nothing fatal.
Bilbo disappointingly and safely reach the stables, relatively unscathed.
Oh well, at least I could be useful. The hobbit had grabbed the small knife he had been previously eyeing. He sawed through the ropes of the enclosure. Within a minute, Bilbo was able to drag the fence open and let the ponies out.
Less than a minute after that, Bilbo found himself hovering in the air, arms and legs held by two of the trolls. He blinked in bewilderment, staring at the dwarrows below him. The dwarrows, in turn, stared up at him with horror.
"Bilbo!" Kili cried out in dismay, running towards said hobbit. He would have fought the trolls all by himself had Thorin not held him back with a "Don't!" and a firm grip on his arm.
"Lay down your arms," William, one of the trolls with a grip on the hobbit's arm, ordered, glaring at the dwarrows. The dwarrows brandished their weapons against the three trolls, panic evident in their eyes. "Or we'll rip his off."
Bilbo's eyes widened as he realized he was being used as a hostage. Why, these trolls were smarter than they appeared. Or, well, thinking about it, not exactly smart; they should have chosen a better hostage than Bilbo. He was the least useful among the Company; he wasn't worth much as leverage.
Still, just in case the Company was noble enough to try and save their most incompetent member, Bilbo said calmly, "Don't do what they say—"
"Quit yer yapping!" Bert shouted, shaking the hobbit in his grip.
A great crack resounded in the space of the troll's camp. For a few seconds, Bilbo wondered at the source of the noise. Was it a firework? A rock cracking against another? Then, the pain manifested itself into his left shoulder and his questions were answered.
He screamed as fire climbed up the length of his left arm. Oh Eru, Yavanna, Aule, and all the Valar. Black dots filled his vision and for a moment, he thought he was going to faint. But the moment was gone, and he managed to swim to consciousness just a few seconds later. Tears escaped the corners of his eyes and ran down his cheeks, tracing a glistening path on his dirtied face.
"Bilbo!" "Master Baggins!" The cries of the dwarrows were the first thing Bilbo registered.
"—squealing like a pig, he is." The gleeful voice of the troll was the second.
"Now," William smirked.
Bilbo let out a soft cry as his injured arm was pulled. His bones were grating against each other at a painful angle and he knew it was misaligned.
"Drop yer weapons."
Bilbo's head snapped to the dwarrows. He met Thorin's undecipherable gaze with wide teary eyes. Unable to speak, the hobbit merely shook his head vigorously. If they stopped fighting, the trolls would capture them and have them for dinner. Either way, Bilbo would die in the end, which really was the result everyone would be glad about. There was no need for the other dwarrows to join him.
His and Thorin's gaze held for a few tense moments.
Then, the dwarf gruffly embedded his big sword into the ground, a sure sign of surrender. The others hesitated but soon followed, throwing their armaments to the ground with a huff. Ori, rather petulantly, hurled his slingshot away.
"No, don't . . ." Bilbo's voice was hoarse and it hurt to speak.
But his pleading came unheeded as dwarrows disarmed themselves.
Oh, confusticate these dwarrows!
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A/N: Unbeta'ed so all mistakes are because I'm a lazy bum (and also because English ay hindi ang wikang kinagisnan ko ;)).
Next up: Bilbo tries to kill two birds with one stone. Unfortunately, the dwarrows hinder his plan, as they always do.
Constructive criticisms are welcome! Help me improve my writing, guys!
Have an awesome day!
~ Vividpast