A/N: Have you visited my writer's Facebook page facebook dot com katyakolmakov? I recently doodled Werna, and I post news and updates there :) Also, if you go to my Simple Writer's blog (kolmakov dot ca) you can find links to my other media, and now subscribe to the newsletter of my fantasy world Rodhina that will launch April, 1, 2016!
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kkolmakov
The nose of the boat scraped at stone, and Bilbo scrambled onto the shore, coughing painfully, his body quaking. His joints ached from the coldness of the water, his fingers were unmoving, after digging into the board for so long. He had swallowed plenty of the dark, dead water, and the stale, purgid taste coated his palate.
"Alright, alright..." he mumbled, and then jerked and rose, swaying, quickly leaning into the boat to see how Werna was. She lay on the bottom, pale, and listless, and his heart clenched. He was struck by the difference between the woman who laughed at Bofur's stories, crinkling her nose, a few bright curls jumping near her face, and the white ghost, no life or light left in it.
"Werna..." he breathed out, but then hurriedly looked around.
The creature was nowhere to be seen. Bilbo drew the sword out of its scabbard, noting the blue burning in it.
"It thinks it will lie to us." Bilbo heard the whisper echo around, bouncing off the walls and roof of the cave, hiding the creature's location from him. "We eats it too now. Right after the dead one… Gollum, gollum!"
Dead?! Terror slashed across Bilbo's heart, and he quickly bent down, and pressed his fingers to Werna's throat. The pulse was there, hardly noticeable, but still present.
"Where are you?" he called after the creature. "We had a deal. We have supper now, and then you show me the path out. The safe one… C'mon, do you not want to eat in company? It must be lonely here."
"We is lonely..." it answered, as Bilbo had learnt to distinguish by now, its nice half speaking, and then hissed, "Shut up!" More muttering followed, and then, "But we is, precious! We has no one to talk to, just fishes, and batses..."
"Well, is it not better to share a meal then?" Bilbo was not sure what he would do when it came back, but it surely felt safer to see it than let it lurk in the dark.
A terrifying thought came. He could kill it. He had a boat now, Werna could be moved in it, to the other side of the island. The creature had let it slip that there was an exit there, and even mentioned the sunlight.
And he had so little time! He needed to find others. He was no help for her, he knew not wounds and treatments. Gandalf! He needed to find Gandalf!
The monster stepped from out of the shadows, its eyes glued to Bilbo, who instinctively raised the sword in front of him.
"What is it, precious? It shines, precious. Nasty, nasty..." It coughed, pausing a few feet away.
Bilbo was frozen as well, and then a soft noise came from behind him, and he heard Werna's hardly audible voice.
"Bilbo..."
And that was when the creature lunged ahead, its hands splayed, stretched towards Bilbo's throat.
He did not know how he moved, but nonetheless the blade slashed, and the creature screamed shriekily. It swirled on one spot, and Bilbo toppled backwards, clumsily, the sword almost falling out of his hands.
"It burns us! Nasty, nasty! We hurts, precious!" it lamented loudly, and rolled aside. A cut - not too deep - was on its upper arm, and it whined, and pressed another hand over it.
"We eats it now, we do, precious… It will not see us, we strangle it, and then eats the other one. Soft, juicy..." it muttered, and Bilbo saw its hand rise to the rag around its hips. It could hardly hide any weapon there, Bilbo thought, and he watched it in confusion.
Whatever it looked for was not there. The creature emitted a loud, pained wail, and started running around, hollering, and hitting itself to the head. It was utterly mad, and Bilbo carefully stepped back, pondering whether it would even notice if he tried to escape with the boat, when it sharply turned to him.
"Does it have it, precious?! Did it stole it?! Does it have it, Baggins?!"
"I did not steal anything!" Bilbo cried out, swaying the blade in front of him.
"Thief! Thief! Our precious!"
It lunged ahead again, this time in rage, and Bilbo awkwardly tried to shield himself with the blade. The monster pushed it away, as if not noticing that it cut its hand, and it grabbed Bilbo's jacket by the lapel. Its face was near, the smell of rotten fish hit Bilbo's nose, and he yelped, and stepped back. His foot slipped on a slimy rock, and down and back he went, the creature falling with him.
"Precious..." it wheezed, and Bilbo jerked and hit its temple with the plommet of the sword.
It fell down in an ugly heap of limbs, and stilled.
It took Bilbo a few seconds to gather his bearings and push the limp body off him. He then rolled on his knees and hands, and a few painful heaves wracked through his body. Bitter acidic taste filled his mouth, and he spat. And then he saw how bright the gleamer was coming from his sword, and he pushed himself to rise. His head spun, and he felt sick rise. He looked down at the spread creature, and sudden pity stirred in him. It lay on the ground, its long arms floppy and skinny, and somehow it reminded him of a drown kitten he once had seen as a child. Him and his friends had buried the poor animal under a tall oak on the edge of the grove near the river, and said sad little words over the little hill of ground. Bilbo almost stepped forward to see if the creature breathed, or he indeed had taken a life, but then he remembered of the warning light on his blade, and of the woman dying in the small boat, and he made a few shaky steps towards her.
Plodding in the shallow water around the island, pulling the boat after himself, he kept on thinking of the poor monster. Wherever it could have come from? And was it indeed dead? Had Bilbo just become a murderer?
And then he felt the air around him move, and his sensitive nose seemed to have caught a whiff of fresh air, and he gathered lungfuls, and pushed the boat, and slipped into water.
The boat in front of him, he paddles awkwardly, swallowing more of the water than he should, feeling his limbs growing heavier, and his lungs hurt as if he were running in the Winter without his scarf, and suddenly he realised he had strength left for just a few more instants, and then he would sink like a rock… And the woman he loved - and the thought was so definite and the situation was so grim that he had no time to be surprised by the certainty - would die in a small dirty boat, lying among bones of fish and bat and goblin… And Bilbo paddled faster, and then his foot painfully met rocky bottom.
He was once again dragging himself out of water, and onto the shore, sharp rocks slicing his soles and ankles, and then behind him he heard a terrifying howl.
"Baggins! Thief!"
Relief filled Bilbo's heart. The creature lived! He had not killed it! And immediately the gravity of the situation dawned on Bilbo, and he rushed to the boat, not quite sure what to do. He was a sound Hobbit, and he knew most certainly he had not enough strength to carry Werna.
"Bilbo!"
Never in his life had Bilbo been happier to hear his own name. He twirled on his heels, and saw Gandalf run to him, light dimly glowing on the end of his staff. And behind him ran the Dwarves, with Thorin at the front.
"Werna!" the King roared. "Where is she?!"
"She is here! In the boat!" Bilbo cried back. "And there is something there, some creature, and it tried to..."
He did not finish his explanation. Thorin pushed him away, and leaned into the boat. The Elven blade fell out of his hands, with a loud clank, onto the stone floor, and he picked Werna up, lifting her as if she weighed nothing.
"Her ribs are broken, she has blood..." Bilbo exclaimed, taking an instinctive step forward, and he saw Thorin's face grow terrified.
"Is she breathing?" someone asked nearby.
"We need to go! I saw the light there!" Gandalf interrupted, and the Dwarves moved. Bilbo was still watching the King and the woman in his arms.
"Take my sword!" Thorin barked, and started quickly walking away, and everyone followed, and Bilbo felt confused, and it was painful to breathe, and someone supported him, and suddenly the Sun blinded him. They were briskly stomping down a hill, and it smelt of pines, and he could feel dry grass under his feet, but all he could see was her hand limply hanging down, swaying from the King's fast striding.
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romance webserial: Dr. T Series
Summary: Wren Leary, a young biochem student is placed before a choice: Will it be Philip Durinson, the self-assured ball of sunshine and a uni stud, or his cantankerous and mistrusting uncle, John Thorington? The first one is her friend, the second one regrets that night in the tent. Wrennie is in a pickle.
Updated every Saturday!
JukePop: Katya Kolmakov
Blind Carnival, a parody on romance/erotic novels
Summary: Olivia Dane is an author of trashy romance novels. She lost her husband seven years ago and seeks no relationship, preferring the company of her imaginary yet dashing protagonists. When forced to go on a blind date, the last thing Olivia expects is to meet John Dowling, an architect, and a willing guinea pig for her writing research. Armed with openness and eager curiosity, Olivia and John endeavour to find out if erotic clichés even work, whether relationships tie one down, and who wears the trousers in this couple.
Updated every Thursday!
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My book on Amazon!
CONVINCE ME THE WINTER IS OVER
{my first novel
inspired by the story initially written here}
Available on Amazon in Kindle and Paper!
Summary:
Renee Miller is a reclusive web designer who, after several hours of delirium from flu, wakes up to find a stranger in boxer briefs standing in her bathroom.
John is an archaeologist who finds himself stuck in a stranger's flat in a snowstorm.
Frozen in her neat and clean world of highly functional anxieties and her history of childhood trauma, Renee is perhaps the worst possible host for her flatmate's boyfriend's colleague. Yet, while the fervent gush of life that is John Greaves disrupts her carefully guarded existence, Renee finds herself gradually yearning for more.
Is John the first breath of Spring in her frigid world?