++Thank you to my regular readers (and a handful of new ones!) Your kind words have made me so proud of this story and they give the imagination to continue. I appreciate getting such reviews from fans of Tolkien who know the books so well and call my attention to its truism. And, finally, here are the trolls. Enjoy!++
These characters and places are not my own, they belong to JRR Tolkien.
A couple hours stretched by like a long pouring of molasses in wintertime, Pippin could hardly bare it. Sleeping was of no use, he was too frightened to shut his eyes for any length of time, and he dared not utter a sound fearing to uncover any hint of their presence. It was Legolas who spied the trolls' happenings and detailed with soft words of the gruff conversations spoken in the Black Speech of Mordor. Though he did not understand their tongue, this displeased the elf all the more. However, trolls were dull, slow and terrible conversationalists, incapable of small talk. Pippin imagined the unrecognized grumblings between the two were debates of simple matters like the correct height of the fire, fairly divvying up the meal or whose turn it was to sleep on the lumpy side of hill. What they lacked in intelligence was given to them ten-fold in size, strength and ferocity. They wasted such talents even between each other by pushing or roaring loudly as they did, adding to the discomfort of their visitors waiting solely for the right time to make their pass.
In the cold temperatures worrier's sweat began to roll down the locks of Pippin's hair, down to his face and neck. His mind and heart raced at the anticipation, nothing else entered his thoughts. Legolas whispered in a soft yet harsh tone, "A fever is sure to come over you. Dry your face and pull the hood of your cloak tighter." Pippin did as he was told, but his nervous worry continued.
After dining on the catch of deer from earlier in the day, the trolls settled leaning against the either side of the cliff face, shifting their bodies to find that right, cozy position. Back and forth they carried their angry prattle and empty threats of bludgeoning and clobbering. Soon the talk dribbled to a mutter, then to a lazy roll off the tongue as they breathed in and out. Their breath grew louder as their heads dropped and closed their eyes. The time has now come.
The elf waited several moments till he was confident the two trolls were indeed in a deep slumber. There was a pale moon light behind them, shining on the path they were to take. He said to Pippin, "Above on our left is a narrowed ridge, barely wider than the length of your foot. We will traverse this path by holding the dead shrubbery anchored deep within the mountain, making small and silent steps."
They stood up, quickly made for the mountainside and soundlessly climbed its surface to the ridge Legolas described. The troll was twenty feet away and then another ten feet to the point of dismount to get back on to their rode. The elf would be the first and the trembling hobbit followed very closely. Inches they crept, careful not to roll any loose dirt over and down the side of the mountain. It seemed like hours to get to where they now stood, only five feet or so to what Legolas kept referring to as the danger zone. The snores echoed in the valley and rumbled in the hobbit's ears, he found it hard to concentrate though he remained focused and ever quiet of his movements. If he could guess, they were walking twenty feet above the ravine floor, but Pippin forgot his fear of heights, there were larger fears concerning him, the beasts measured, when standing, over fifteen feet!
A shifted murmur came from the far troll leaning on the other side. Legolas carefully eyed him; disturbance resulted from his dreaming and did not interrupt his sleep. With a confident nod, Legolas assured Pippin to press on. Closer to the troll they had come, almost directly above his bobbing head. The moonlight gave no clear indication what color these trolls were. Pippin's guess they were a dark cloudy gray and their skin surface was like an aging potato, rough, speckled with random divots. They were bald all a top except for the straggling, thin lines of hair that hung from the base of the heads ending at the shoulders. Minding his concentration, he called his eyes upward and forward, trying to clear his thoughts of the dangers below, both of height and beast.
Then something unexpected occurred. Trolls are widely known to be stupid creatures, incapable of calculating thought, and so Legolas regarded them dim-witted. Giving a small ear to Gildor's council of the Olog-hai strain of trolls (as these were) and unaware of their full history, the elf expected all trolls were alike except for a few major differences. He was mindful that the Olog-hai strain was the work of the Dark Lord, immune to sunlight and filled with a greater evil. Southern Mirkwood housed several of the Olog-hai, but the armies kept them bay of their cities to the north. What he did not realize was that this breed had a slightly higher capacity for thought. During supper, the Dark trolls conversed of the strangers lurking, waiting to cross to the other side, waiting for them to sleep. And now, it seemed, they were sleeping. But they indeed were watching, with barely an eye open, the two travelers tiptoe their way to the valley wall, painstaking tiny steps to the heart of the troll lair.
The far troll widely opened his eyes and saw them in full view, just an arm's length from his grasp. The silence in the valley broke when the troll leaned forward and moved all dirt, stone and leaves about him. Legolas called out to Pippin to climb fast to the top of the mountain as he jumped from the narrow edge to the near troll's head. Balancing as the troll awoke and began to move, Legolas pulled an arrow, aimed it and shot straight through left eye of the spying troll opposite him. Again the elf jumped, down to the ground and ran to the blinded enemy while preparing for another shot.
Now fully awake and alert to the injury of his comrade, the other troll bellowed in his Black Speech and burst forward his hand for the elf. Pippin grabbed and hurled as many stones at the troll below to steer his attention from Legolas. Bothered by pebbles of rock, the troll turned to see Pippin clinging to the roots on the valley face. By the cloak he held the tiny hobbit in his massive fingers and brought the specimen closer for a look-see. Face to face it was between he and Pippin when a small blade swished and deeply pinned the troll square on his nose. In a fury the troll dropped one hand and brought up the other to comfort his wound. Pippin fell to the floor with a thud.
There was no time to lie flat on your back in the midst of this disproportional battle, so on his heels Pippin flung, and he readied his sword that was stained with the troll's blackened blood. For a quick moment he watched the elf scale the downed troll, desperate to yank the arrow out of his eye. The white blade, free from it's sheath again, was plunged into the other working eye and excruciating cries overflowed the valley walls and through distant lands. Flailing heavy hands waved, knocking Legolas off balance but he jumped in time and tumbled to safety.
Pippin caught his breath and came back to his own body. The troll behind him was now angry more than hurt. He fixed on the hobbit while he groped for his tree-club. At once Pippin shrank, drawing a long breath. The troll rose, towering above him and moved in closer. But the monster shot backwards, taking an arrow to his throat. Before Pippin turned to thank the elf, Legolas retreated to the troll he was masterfully taking down.
"No use is it to stay at the level where a troll could smash everything about!" Pippin said aloud and readied for the mountain to climb. He hurried as the troll began to recover from the shot. Focused on their victory, he imagine his plan over and over, to reach the narrow edge height of mountain, leap on to the troll and attack with his sword straight into the eyes. The troll got to his feet again while Pippin moved faster to where he intended to jump off. Finally, at the destination Pippin turned around ready to set the plan in to motion. However, the troll was no longer interested in him, but now eager to assist his kin who was failing and fading fast. Pippin pitched stones, yet nothing availed and the troll leaned in the opposite direction widening the gap between them.
Hilting his sword with a stabbing grip, Pippin summoned all his courage with a fierce cry and from a standstill, leapt with all his might to he troll walking away from him. He landed on nothing, dangling only by the sword lodged to the back of the troll's neck. A blood-curling cry emerged from the beast as he fanned his arms about behind his head. In a matter of quick flowing motions, Pippin grabbed a handful of the stringy hair and yielded his weight from it, pulled out his blade and ran up to the height of the troll. From its summit, he could see Legolas' final blow, letting out the other trolls' last breath. Heaved in his own breath, Legolas called his attention to the other, where he saw his young friend looking down on him from the top of the second enemy. The quiver stayed unarmed. Another arrow would jolt the large tower of a creature and shake-off the hobbit.
"Times a-wasting!" Pippin said to himself, ducking under the hand that tried to boot him off. The little hands and feet could be felt on the troll's massive face, and he rattled his head from side to side. To hang on, Pippin punctured his blade through the forehead and another painful scream was let out. Teetering to stay on his feet, the troll wavered. Covering his face as if to mask the pain, the beast fell backwards against the mountain. From his nose, Pippin slid off and hit the ground. He ached from all the falling, but now, all was settled. The trolls were slain and the valley was quiet again.
Pippin lifted his face from the dirt and caught the gleam of his sword reflecting moonlight, still secure on the monster's brow. Up and over the troll's body he ran to recover it when suddenly he was face to large opened, living eyes. Air moved about the beast's nose and lips and he roared though he could not move his body. Pippin roared back and jabbed his full sword into the large eye, withdrew its length and ran back down. In the back of his mind, he heard an echo instructing him to finish and gash the heart. Pippin stopped on top of the chest and held the blade high over his head, brought it down with amazing force to pierce the black heart and commit the enemy to certain death.
At the start of the high road, past the troll's lair of the valley's end, elf and hobbit met. Together they trotted towards Hollin, quick to move and stunned in silence. Weariness soon overcame them both, but they forged on past midnight, taking strides as far away from the evil they conquered. Pippin's legs were giving way, his eyes shut and he fell to the road. Legolas knew they could not go on long, if even a single step, but he was compelled to find a clearing where they could rest in safety. The elf took off his pack and hoisted Pippin over his shoulder, dragging the belongings behind him. He turned off the road into the wood with barely the strength and breath to continue.