A/N: Surprise update for both hobbit fics because today is my birthday! If I were a dwarf, I would be coming of age (30) today. Also, it's purely coincidental that the chapter 8s are going up on August 8th XD
Fili hopped over the log and darted forward, with Kili following shortly after. Both left their dinners behind, the bowls sitting atop the log. When Baylee started to scramble over the tree to follow them, Bilbo reached out and grabbed the back of her dress. She squeaked as he pulled her back down to the ground.
"You are staying right here, young lady!" he ordered in a loud whisper. Pointing a stern finger at her, he hurriedly climbed over the log and went after Fili and Kili.
Baylee, of course, didn't listen—which she would later come to greatly regret.
"He's got Myrtle and Minty!" she heard Bilbo whisper as she approached the three males. "I think they're going to eat them! We have to do something!"
"Yes, the two of you should," Kili agreed. As he spoke, he reached over and, grabbing Baylee, brought her around in front of him.
"Wh-what!?"
"Mountain trolls are slow and stupid!" Kili continued, now taking Bilbo's shoulder as well and starting to guide the two forwards. "And the two of you are so small—"
"N-No, no, no!" He glanced over, his eyes widening in horror. "Baylee, I told you to stay—"
"They'll never see either of you!" Kili promised, ignoring Bilbo's protests. "It's perfectly safe; we'll be right behind you."
"If you run into trouble, hoot twice like a barn owl, once like a brown owl," Fili instructed. Unlike Kili, Baylee could hear hints of uncertainty in his voice.
Bilbo nodded shakily. "Twice like a-a barn owl, twice like a b-brown—once like a brown…? Are you sure this is a good—" He turned around to look at Fili and Kili only to groan in disappointment when he saw that they were gone. "Confounded dwarves!" he whispered in frustration.
Baylee bit her lower lip, looking up at the trolls in a mixture of horror and wonder. They were huge, with grey skin that looked similar to bleached leather. One of the them wore a vest and loincloth, another wore what looked to be an apron, and the third wore only a loincloth. Both hobbits were quite thankful the trolls seemed smart enough to clothe certain extremities, though they were unaware that they were also smart enough to have names, which were William, Bert, and Tom, respectively.
And then, the trolls took them by surprise: They started talking.
"Mutton yesterday, mutton t'day, an' blimey—if it don't look like mutton again tomorrow!" Bert grumbled. The two watched as he shoved what looked like a shovel into a huge cooking pot, giving its contents a stir.
"Quit yer gripin'," Tom snapped. "These ain't sheep—fuzzy enough t' be, though. These is West Nags!" He put the ponies down in a makeshift pen before going to sit on a tree stump near the fire.
"Oh, I don't like 'orse," William whined. "I never 'ave! Not enough fat on 'em."
Bilbo and Baylee started to creep their way around the trolls and towards the ponies. Both barely made as sound as they moved through the underbrush, as was typical of hobbits, who could be just as silent as elves when they had to be. Whenever they did make a sound, however, they would stop and crouch low to the earth in case one of the trolls looked over.
"Well, it's better than the leathery ol' farmer," said Bert. "All skin an' bone, he was. I'm still pickin' bits of him out o' me teeth."
Baylee's eyes widened; part of her wondered if these three were the reason the farmhouse was abandoned? Surely not, though—it looked like it had been abandoned a century ago.
William suddenly sneezed; as he did such, there was a loud splash. "Oh, that's lovely, that is!" the cook grumbled. "A floater!"
"Might improve the flavor!" laughed Tom.
"Ah! There's more where that came from!" William started to hock up another 'floater' and Baylee covered her mouth as she felt her stomach churn threateningly. She glanced over just in time to see Bert grab him by the nose.
"Oh no you don't," he snarled, throwing him down. "Sit down!"
Shaking her head, Baylee looked over at her father only to find him gone. Her brows furrowing, she saw that he had already made it over to the ponies. She did her best to hurry towards him, suddenly thankful that her dress was covered in mud—it dulled the yellow color and made her less likely to stand out. To her relief, she was soon crouching beside Bilbo, her hand gripping the side of his jacket.
"I can't untie these," he whispered, pointing at the thick ropes holding the pen closed. "We'll need a knife."
"I have one!" She reached into her pocket and pulled out Fili's knife. "It'll take a little work, though."
He shook his head. "We'll never get through with that, even if it is sharp. The ropes are too thick. We need something bigger."
William suddenly let out a squeal of pain, causing the two to jump. They looked over at the trolls again, their hearts racing. They saw that Bert had grabbed William by the nose only to throw him down onto the ground once more.
"I said sit down!" he growled.
"I'm starvin'! Are we 'aving 'orse tonight or what?" Tom grumbled.
"Shut yer cakehole! You'll eat what I give yeh!"
William sniffled slightly before reaching behind him and grabbing a filthy handkerchief that had been tucked into his belt. As the cloth was pulled away, the hobbits could see a makeshift knife in his belt. Judging by its size, it had once been a sword for an elf or a human, but the blade had been shoved into a large branch, making a better hilt for the troll.
"Stay here," Bilbo ordered in a harsh whisper. "I mean it this time, Baylee. Stay here."
She swallowed hard and nodded, crouching low to the ground. Fili's knife still in her hand, she bit her lower lip and glanced down at it. 'Yavanna, please don't make me use this tonight,' she thought, drawing it from its sheath.
"I'm just sayin'," the cook complained, "a little appreciation would be nice. 'Thank you very much, Bert.' 'Lovely stew, Bert.' How hard is that?" Baylee was more than a little surprised that he had a name—though she should have known better. If they were intelligent enough to have conversations, they were intelligent enough to have names. She watched Bert take a sip of his stew, making her stick her tongue out in disgust. "Hmm…it just needs a sprinkle o' squirrel dung."
She felt her stomach churn again and she forced herself to both look away and pay attention to a different set of sounds: the ponies behind her. They uneasily paced back and forth in the pen, wanting to get as far away from here as possible. She couldn't blame them—the trolls fully intended to eat them. It didn't help that their nerves were making hers worse, though.
'If we survive this, Prim and Halfast will never believe me,' she thought. Her brows furrowed as she watched Bilbo creep ever closer to William. He tried to reach for the knife, but just before he could grab it, the troll stood and unceremoniously scratched its hindquarters. She almost laughed as she saw Bilbo's face turn a light shade of green, but the worried whinny of a pony startled her into silence.
But then, William reached behind him for his handkerchief. Baylee nearly cried out as she watched him grab not only his handkerchief, but Bilbo as well! The troll didn't seem to notice, however, as he brought his hand to his face and sneezed into what he thought was his handkerchief. Baylee cringed as she saw thick tendrils of troll snot start flowing down off her father's arms.
As he pulled his hand away from his face and saw what he held, he cried out in fright. "Argh! Blimey, Bert! Bert, look what's come out o' me 'ooter!" he shouted, holding Bilbo out at arm's length in a mixture of disgust and fear.
"What is it?" Tom asked as he got up. Peering over William's shoulder, his face contorted in confusion and disgust.
"I don't know, but I don't like the way it wriggles about!" William practically threw both Bilbo and his handkerchief to the ground.
Baylee swallowed hard as she saw her father wince when he pushed himself upright; she knew he had to have gotten some sort of injury in that fall. As he scrambled to his feet, his front covered in a layer of troll bogeys, she could see that he was holding his shoulder and there was pain on his face. But as he looked up, the pain was, understandably, replaced by panic.
'What do I do?' she thought. 'What do I do?!' Her eyes darted around, looking for anything that could work as a distraction to help her father.
"What are you then? An oversized squirrel?" Tom demanded, stalking closer to the hobbit.
"I-I-I'm a burglar—ah, a hobbit!" Bilbo stammered.
"A burglahobbit?" William repeated.
Baylee glanced at the (currently unattended) cooking pot. It was just sitting atop the burning logs, barely balancing in place. Seeing one of the pieces of wood jutting out a ways, she bit her lower lip. It went right under the middle of the pot; if she could knock it askew…
'Sorry da',' she thought, tucking the knife in her pocket before darting forward.
Making sure to stay behind the three trolls, she kept herself crouched low to the ground. As she came upon the branch, she stole a look at the trolls; they were still focused on her father. She pushed on the wood, silently cursing when it barely budged. Hopping up, she let her full weight push down on it. This time, it did move, but barely—it had only been enough that the pot tilted to the side a bit.
'What a lovely time to be a Mouse-Lass!' she thought in frustration. She jumped again and again and again, each time moving the pot just a little bit more. Looking at her father, she gulped, having been just in time to see William try to snatch Bilbo. As he ducked out of the way, she jumped up one last time, trying to put extra force into the push as she came down.
And, somehow, it worked. As she came down, the pot finally tumbled forward, its hot contents flowing out over the feet of the trolls. They cried out in pain and start to hop about while Bilbo did his best to steer clear of them. He tried to make his way over to his daughter, who was picking herself up after landing in a heap on the ground, but he wasn't quite fast enough. Bert spotted her and lunged forward, snatching her up.
"Baylee!" he cried, his feet suddenly rooted to the spot.
That gave Tom time enough to reach out and grab him by the leg. "Gotcha!" he grinned. "Two burglahobbits then? Are there any more o' you lil' fellas 'iding where you shouldn't?"
"N-Nope!" Bilbo stammered, trying to twist himself around so he could see where his daughter was.
"He's lyin'!" William hissed.
"No, he's not!" Baylee squeaked. "We're the only two burglahobbits!" She tried to wriggle her arm free of Bert's grip, but it was hard, considering she was also trying to draw the knife from her pocket.
"This one's smaller than that one," Bert said, holding her up so he could get a better look at her. A smirk then spread across his lips. "Ah, but she's got a decent bit more meat on her bones!"
"Ooh, can I have a taste?" William begged. "I promise I won't take more 'n a leg!"
"Get your own burglahobbit," Tom scolded. "There's bound t' be more out there."
Bilbo shook his head. "Nope, no more! We're the last two burglahobbits in Middle Earth!" he hurriedly told them. "Which means you really shouldn't eat us! You wouldn't want us to go extinct in such a cruel fashion, would you?"
The trolls looked at one another, as if they were trying to figure out just what he was saying.
"You won't have time t' go stinky," Bert told him, quite matter-of-factly. He felt the small hobbit wriggling in his grip, but was unaware that she had managed to get her arm free or that she had a dagger in her hand. "We're goin' t' make sure o' th—" He suddenly howled in pain as Baylee slammed the knife into his hand, its sharpness making it slice through his tough skin with ease.
She had expected him to simply drop her. Instead, though, he haphazardly flung her away from him. It was her turn to cry out as she flew through the air; she could hear Bilbo shouting. With a dull thud, she hit the ground, tumbling and rolling many yards through the underbrush before coming to a hard stop against a tree trunk.
Pain filled her body, most of it being dull aches that she could handle, and even ignore, with little complaint. But in her left eye, there was a nearly unbearable sharp, scratching pain. She clapped her hands over the eye, whimpering softly. Nothing felt wrong against her palm; at least, there was nothing poking out of her eye and she could still move it, but it was extremely painful to do such. She could, however, feel blood beginning to roll down her palm and wrist, telling her she had some sort of cut.
Baylee could hear the sounds of battle taking place little more than fifty feet away, and she finally forced herself to sit upright. Keeping one hand over her eye, she weakly pushed herself backwards against the trunk of the tree. Just on the other side of some holly bushes, she could see the dwarves fighting the trolls.
Despite the pain, part of her found herself in awe of how the dwarves seemed to be in sync with one another. She watched Dwalin throw himself to the ground and, from across the area, Thorin came sprinting. He leapt onto Dwalin's back only to be tossed further into the air as Dwalin bolted upright.
But then, just seconds later, everything came to a halt and she had to clap a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. Bert and William had a hold of Bilbo, each one holding a leg and an arm.
"Lay down your arms!" Tom ordered. "Or well rip 'is off!"
Baylee kept her hand over her mouth, watching and hearing as the dwarves gave up their weapons. 'What can I do?' she thought. 'I-I need to do something! Anything!' Feeling herself beginning to panic, she clenched her eye shut and tried to keep her breathing even—a hard feat, considering how much pain there still was in her eye. 'The trolls have da' and the lads were just forced to surrender…None of them have weapons now. I don't have a weapon now. I can't even properly use a weapon! Valar help me, I'm useless…'
Opening her eye again, she could see that just William was now holding her father while Bert was gathering up the dwarves' weapons. Where Tom had gone, she didn't know. Bert gave orders to the dwarves to take off their armor and clothes; when they initially refused, William gave Bilbo a squeeze that made him cry out in pain.
"You lot be'ave just as badly as those West Nags," he grumbled when they finally started to disrobe.
Her good eye widened. 'Wait. We still have twelve ponies,' she thought. 'I could—I could use them as some sort of distraction!' She then bit her lip. 'But what if we lose—No. A few dead ponies are better than thirteen dead dwarves and a dead da'."
Forcing herself to her feet, she had to hold onto the tree for a moment as her head spun. With a shaky breath, she finally pulled her hand from her eye; though it was still in a great deal of pain, she could still see out of it.
Well, sort of.
Everything on her left was now quite blurry.
She started to make her way back towards the farmhouse, though that meant having to go around the trolls. That made the trip both slow going and perilous; Tom was still nowhere to be found and he could pop up at any minute from anywhere. The pain in her eye sought to be another distraction for her as well, with the scratchiness having faded into dull throbbing.
'You can fight through this, Baylee,' she told herself. 'Remember the time you broke your arm? You don't have nearly as much pain as you did then—at least, in most of your body.'
If she hadn't needed to go around a troll encampment, had two good eyes, and it was the middle of the day, she would have made the trip to the farmhouse in just a quarter of an hour. As it was, however, it took her much longer. The combination of sneaking around earlier and then getting thrown in a random direction left her rather puzzled as to which way was the right way. Twice, she wandered off into the brush only to realize she had found the wrong way and was forced to return to the trolls.
After nearly an hour, she stumbled out of the brush to find the farmhouse a few yards away from her. A small, relieved sob left her mouth; not only had she finally found the farmhouse again, but the pain in her eye had subsided a great deal. She hurried forward into the building and knelt beside Bombur's pack.
She started to dig through it in hopes of finding his cleaver. Even if her plan of creating a diversion with the ponies worked, she would still need something sharp just in case and Bombur's large cleaver was the only thing she knew she could handle.
Finding the knife, she slightly grinned and quickly shoved it into her pocket. While doing such, she silently thanked Primrose for giving her the dress pattern with extra-large pockets. She stood up, glad to find that her head didn't spin this time, and headed back outside.
As she reached the pony pen, however, she was met by only two of the twelve ponies that should have been there.
"No," she whimpered, trying to look through the darkness for the others. "No, no, no! Where did they go?!"
Frantically, she made her way around the outer edges of the pen, hoping to find at least one of the missing ponies. She found none, however, and ventured a bit deeper into the forest to look for them. It took her a great deal of time, but she searched both high and low (well, as high as a hobbit of her stature could look) for any sign of the ponies.
But they were gone, having more than likely been spooked by the trolls' yelling.
Sinking to her knees, she rested her forehead against one of the fence posts. "This is horrible," she whispered, unconsciously hugging herself. "Here I am, the only one not caught by those brutes, and I can't even do anything to help the others because of how small I am…" She sniffled, feeling tears beginning to form in her eyes. "Some Mouse-Lass I am."
Clenching her eyes shut, she let out a yelp that was a mixture of shock and pain. As the tears welled up in her injured eye, they made the stinging come back with a vengeance. Her hands clapped over her eye again, but that only made things worse, as they pushed the tears further into whatever wounds she had.
She let out some extremely unladylike words.
"Why does it hurt so bad?!" she choked out before a quiet sob left her mouth.
"Why does what hurt so bad, Miss Baggins?"
Gasping, she spun around only to find Gandalf walking towards her. "G-Gandalf! You're back!" she cried. "Oh, Yavanna's grace, you're back! There are trolls, Gandalf! Three of them! They-they-they have the others; they threatened to pull da' apart—"
The wizard held his hand up, silencing her. "Please speak slower, Miss Baggins. You hobbits can talk faster than my ears can listen."
She nodded. "S-Sorry," she said, one hand unconsciously starting to run along her braid. "Fili and Kili were supposed to be watching the ponies, so da' and I brought them dinner. When we got out there, we were told that two of the ponies had gone missing, so we went looking for them. In the middle of looking, we saw a fire in the distance. As we headed for it, a troll crossed out path, carrying two more of the ponies!"
Once more, he held up his hand. "Say no more, Miss Baggins. Can you take me to where the trolls are?"
"Y-yes, I can," Baylee told him. She got to her feet, not even bothering to straighten out her petticoats as she started to lead him through the underbrush. More than once, she stumbled and nearly toppled forward onto her face.
She prayed it was just the darkness and her panic making her trip and not her eye.
When they were within sight of the troll's camp, Gandalf grabbed her shoulder, stopping her. The two of them could see that five of dwarves, now left in nothing more than their shoes and long-johns, had been tied to a spit and were slowly being turned over the fire. The rest had been tied up in bags and were piled up near the base of one of the rock piles.
"Now this is quite the predicament," Gandalf murmured. "I have a plan, but it may take some time, as I'm not sure how long until dawn comes."
"A-alright. What do you need me to do?" she asked, looking up at him. She quietly gulped; he was a fair bit taller than her, making her feel even smaller.
At that, he shook his head. "I need you to stay out of sight, Miss Baggins," he told her. "Not only are you injured, but you're much too small to provide any sort of protection to them should my plan go awry." Looking down at her, he gave her a reassuring smile. "That is not to say you are useless, however—this is just not the sort of situation where you would be most useful. Now please, stay here and stay quiet!"
Before she had a chance to say anything in reply, Gandalf turned and hurried off into the underbrush. With a quiet sigh, she bit her lower lip and crept forward a bit more so she could at least get a better look at the camp. Being too short to see over the bushes, however, she lowered herself onto her knees and crawled forward a bit until she could see the group.
"Don't bother cookin' them," William grumbled. "Let's just sit on them and squash them into jelly!"
Bert scoffed at the suggestion. "They should be sautéed and grilled with a sprinkle o' sage," he told him, sounding quite sure of himself.
"Ooh, that does sound quite nice," William agreed.
"Untie us, you monsters!" Oin snapped. Baylee could see him and the others struggling against the sacks they had been shoved into.
"Take on someone your own size!" Gloin shouted.
The trolls ignored them. "Never mind the seasonin'," Tom grumbled. "We ain't got all night! Dawn ain't far away, so let's get a move on. I don't fancy bein' turned to stone."
A few seconds passed before Bilbo suddenly cried out. "Wait!" he called. "Wait, wait, wait! You are making a terrible mistake!"
"You can't reason with them!" Dori cried. "They're half-wits!"
"Half-wits!?" Bofur repeated. "Then what does that make us!?"
If she weren't filled with fear, Baylee would have giggled at his comment.
It was a bit of a struggle, but Bilbo managed to get to his feet, awkwardly turning around so that he could face the trolls. "Uh, I meant with the-the-the, uh, with the seasoning!" he told them.
Bert scowled down at him. "What about the seasonin'?"
"Well, have you smelled them?" questioned the hobbit. "You're going to need something far stronger than sage before you plate this lot up."
The dwarves started shouting at him, calling him a traitor. Some of them even managed to kick him.
'Oh no, don't do that to him!' Baylee thought, biting her lower lip. 'Yavanna's grace, he's trying to help you!'
"What do you know about cookin' dwarf?" Tom demanded. "You don't look like you eat 'em."
Bert dismissively waved Tom off. "Shut up an' the, uh…the flurgaburra'obbit talk."
Bilbo gave him a smile that was both a mixture of thankfulness and nervousness. "Uh, the-the secret to cooking dwarf is, ah—"
"Yes? Come on!" Bert interjected, his excitement evident.
"It's, uh—"
"Tell us the secret!"
"Yes—yes, I'm trying to tell you!" Bilbo scolded. Baylee knew that tone well; he was irritated and ready to deliver a lengthy scolding if the trolls didn't stop interrupting him—or the dwarves didn't stop yelling at him. "The secret is…is to…to skin them first!"
She clapped her hands over her ears as the dwarves burst out into a fit of even louder yells and curses. What she didn't realize was that the movement had caught someone's attention. As her eyes scanned the area for any sign of Gandalf, she instead felt a gasp stop halfway in her throat as she found Thorin glaring directly at her.
He slowly mouthed an order to her, making sure it was obvious what he was saying. Get over here. Now.
Biting her lip, she glanced back at her father, finding him still talking with the trolls. Gandalf had told her to stay put and she knew better than to disobey a wizard. At the same time, however, the intensity of Thorin's glare left her too intimidated to not follow his orders.
She crawled backwards, out of the bush, and stood up. Doing her best to hurry, she made her way around some holly bushes—part of her wondered if these were the same ones she had been thrown through—before stepping out of the safety of the underbrush. She kept herself low to the ground as she scampered towards the rocks where the dwarves were piled up.
"Mouse-Lass, what does your father think he's doing!?" Thorin hissed as she knelt beside him, pressing herself against the rocks.
"I-I think he's just trying to bide time," she whispered.
"Bide time? Bide time for what—the others to get golden brown and crispy!?" He looked back over at Bilbo, seeing him standing in place while the trolls bickered among themselves.
She winced at his tone; no one had spoken that harshly to her before. "N-No, of course not! Why would you think such a thing!?"
"He's giving them cooking tips, Mouse-Lass. He's turned on us!" He blinked as he suddenly felt his ear get flicked.
"Don't you dare go thinking my da' is some sort of—some sort of traitor!" she harshly whispered. "He's trying to help you, whether it looks like it or not. I know you're scared for your life and the others' lives, but that's no reason to accuse a friend of—" A small squeak left her mouth and she quickly ducked behind the rock as William stalked over and picked up Bombur.
"Nothin' wrong with a bit of raw dwarf!" he said, dangling him high in the air. "Nice an' crunchy!" He started to lower Bombur towards his mouth.
"Not-not-not that one!" Bilbo cried. "He's-he's, ah, infected!"
Tom, who was turning the spit the rest of the dwarves were tied to, looked at the hobbit with a from. "You what?"
Bilbo quickly nodded. "Y-yes, he's got worms. In his—his tubes."
Baylee heard a thud and groans of pain as Bombur was dropped back into the pile.
"I-in fact, they all have it!" Bilbo continued. "They're absolutely infested with parasites. It's a terrible business. I wouldn't risk it—really, I wouldn't."
Peeking around the edge of the rock, Baylee could see the trolls once again distracted. She slipped back around, giving Thorin a small nudge. "They said they'll turn to stone in the sunlight," she whispered to him, her voice just barely audible over the shouting of the dwarves. "Da's trying to buy time until it's dawn! And Gandalf's out there somewhere—doing what, only the Valar know…"
His eyes widening in realization, Thorin suddenly kicked Kili and Oin. The two looked up at him in confusion before a matching look of realization came to their faces.
"I've got parasites as big as my arm!" Oin called out.
"Mine are the biggest parasites!" Kili cried out. "I've got huge parasites!"
As the company started to proclaim how large and how plentiful the parasites in their tubes were, Thorin felt some movement near his chest. He looked down, finding Baylee's hands starting to untie the thick ropes. He turned his head to face her only for his brows to furrow deeply; her face was stained with both mud and blood—her left eye looked especially bad.
"Mouse-Lass, what happened to your eye?"
She looked up, eyes wide. "Wh-why? How bad is it?"
Though there was only firelight to see by, Thorin could tell that there was some sort of damage done to her actual eye as well as the skin around it. What was supposed to be the white of her eye was completely red with blood. "…If we survive this, Oin will definitely have to look at it," he answered after a moment.
"I don't like the sound—" She went quiet as a figure across the way caught her attention: Gandalf. He stood atop another pile of rocks, looking down at the camp.
Tom suddenly reached out and poked Bilbo in the chest, drawing her attention back to her father. "You think I don't know what you're up to?" the troll growled. "This little ferret is takin' us for fools!"
"Ferret!?" Bilbo cried, and rather indignantly at that.
"Fools?" Bert questioned, ignoring the hobbit. "'Ow is he takin' us for fools?"
"When 'ave you ever heard of dwarves having tubes or parasites?" Tom replied. "That's right—Never! 'E's just tryin' to get us to not eat his friends."
William grumbled and stalked forward with the intent of grabbing Bilbo. "Then I says we eats him first!"
As the trolls began to argue, Baylee got the rope of Thorin's sack untied. She helped him pull the opening loose before sneaking over to help untie Balin.
"Oi! I get that flurgaburga'obbit," Tom snapped, leaving the spit and shoving William aside. "You can go an' find that small one Bert threw. Should be nice an' tenderized after a toss like that."
"Don't you touch my flurgaburgala'obbit," Bert snarled. "She shoved a knife in me—it's only fair I gets t' eat her." As he spoke, he looked down at his hand, which had dried black blood coating a good portion of it. "Now let's do something with these dwarves. Dawn's gettin' closer an—"
From atop the rocks, a voice bellowed out. "The dawn will take you all!"
The trolls turned, looking up to find an old man in grey robes standing over them.
"Who's that?" Bert questioned.
Tom shook his head. "No idea."
"Can we eat 'im, too?" William asked, excited by the prospect.
Raising his staff, Gandalf brought the butt of it down atop the rock. A large crack formed down its middle, splitting it clean in half. The two halves fell aside, letting the bright, morning sunlight spill into the area. Momentarily, the hobbits and dwarves were blinded by the intense light. The trolls began to holler in pain as their skin began to solidify and turn to stone.
When their eyes got used to the light, everyone found that the trolls were nothing more than three stone statues now. The dwarves let out a victorious cheer, calling out their praises to Gandalf.
Having gotten Balin untied, Baylee scrambled to her feet and made her way to Bilbo, stumbling over Fili on her way there.
"B-Baylee! You're alright!" her father gasped. "I thought for sure—I thought you had—" As soon as the knot had been undone, he loosened the bag enough so that it fell to the ground around his feet. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around Baylee and pulled her tightly against him. "I thought he might've killed you," he whispered.
She clung onto him, feeling tears welling up in her eyes; for now, she could ignore the stinging in her left one. "No, he didn't kill me," she replied, her voice muffled by his shoulder. "But he did bruise me up quite a bit." Sniffling, she gave him an extra squeeze. "How's your shoulder? You landed on it fairly hard." From the corner of her good eye, she could see Thorin and Balin hurrying towards the fire.
"It hurts like there's no tomorrow, but I'll live." He kissed the top of her head before leaning back and looking down at her. The relieved smile on his lips quickly faded and his eyes widened in horror. "B-Baylee, your-your-your eye!" His hands cupped her face, gently forcing her to tilt her head back a bit more so he could look at it better. "Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no…Where's Oin!? We-we-we need to have him look at it!"
"Still tied up, da', like the others," she told him. She bit her lower lip; there was something wrong with it, that much she had known, but her father's panic made her stomach churn with worry.
"Th-then let's get him untied," he mumbled, more to himself than to her.
"We need to get all of them untied," she told him. "He should also look at your shoulder—if it hurts as bad as you say, then it could be sprained or something could be fractured. I saw that fall; you landed hard." Before he could reply, she returned to the pile of dwarves in sacks where she knelt beside Fili. He had been stuck laying face-down the entire time, so the second she had the sack loosened, he kicked himself free of the burlap.
"Thanks, Baylee," he said before scrambling to his feet and hurrying over to the fire, where Thorin and Balin were scattering the coals.
It took nearly half an hour to free all of the dwarves, though it took an extra fifteen minutes to find where their clothes and weapons had been dumped. Another half hour was spent sorting through said items and matching them to their owners. As the time passed, the sky above grew lighter and lighter.
The moment Oin was dressed, Bilbo dragged him over to Baylee in order to get her eye looked at. "Oh, now this doesn't look pretty. Not pretty at all," he commented, gently turning her head left and right to get a better look at it. "There's definitely some sort o' damage to the eye, but as for the area around it, it's too caked in blood an' mud t' tell." He made a disappointed clicking sound with his tongue as he shook his head; his words made Baylee's stomach start twisting and churning all over again. "I'll need t' get it cleaned up before I can make any final assessments."
"Will she still have sight in that eye?" Bilbo questioned.
Oin held his hearing trumpet to his ear. "What's that lad?"
"Will she still have sight in that eye?" he repeated, louder this time.
Baylee swallowed hard. "I can see out of it, but everything's blurry," she told them.
Oin's brow rose slightly. "Everything's furry?" he incorrectly repeated. "Now that's a new one—I've never heard o' someone's sight going furry before!"
"No, blurry," she told him again, voice also a bit louder. "Everything's blurry in this eye!"
"Ahh, now that makes sense!" he said. He looked over at Thorin, who was speaking with Gandalf. "Thorin, I'm takin' the lass back t' the farmhouse. I need my medicine kit if I'm t' do any sort of treatment."
Thorin nodded in understanding. "Fili, Kili—go with them," he told his nephews. "Master Burglar, Bofur, Nori, Gloin—you'll be coming with me and Gandalf."
"G-go with you?! When my daughter's sight is on the line!?" Bilbo spluttered in disbelief.
"She's in quite capable hands, Bilbo," Gandalf assured him. "And she'll have the princes with her should anything go wrong. Now come; we'll have need of your burglaring skills."
He stared at the wizard incredulously. Just as he was about to refuse the summons, he felt a hand on his arm. Looking over, he saw Baylee giving him a reassuring smile—or, at least, she tried to give him one.
"Go ahead, da'," she said. "I'll be fine."
"But-but-but I should be there with you! What-what if you find out Oin can't fix your eye or-or-or something worse?"
Though his words made her nausea even worse, she kept the reassuring smile on her lips. "Da', I'll have Fili and Kili there with me. If anything goes wrong, one of them can run off to get you."
He nodded slowly, though he didn't seem entirely convinced. "…Alright," he finally said, his tone defeated. "Alright. But you had best send one of them right away if there's bad news."
"We will, da'." She watched as he reluctantly turned around, moving to follow Thorin and Gandalf. Turning herself, she started to follow Oin.
Fili and Kili soon came up on either side of her, their brows furrowed. "What happened to you, Baylee?" the former asked.
"I'm…not sure, to be honest," she sighed. "When I got snatched up by that troll in the apron, I managed to get my arm and your knife free. Thinking he'd just drop me, I stabbed—" She squeaked as her foot caught on a rock, making her stumble. Kili caught her before she could fall. "Th-thank you."
"Is your foot alright?" he asked.
She nodded. "It's the part of me that hurts the least," she replied with a sigh. "As I was saying, I stabbed the troll in the hand. Instead of dropping me, though, he threw me." Biting her lower lip, she started to look at the ground more often so she could avoid any obstacles. "I must have tumbled through some brambles or a bush or something—I don't know. I just know that I rolled at least twenty feet before a tree stopped me."
"You could have gotten a branch to the eye, then," Fili told her. "Or even a rock. It's hard to tell; it's all red with blood."
"…Is it really?"
Kili nodded. "Yes, it is. And it looks like you might have some skin missing from parts of your eyelid." He saw Fili give him a warning look before glancing down at Baylee; the poor thing had gone quite pale and was nervously stroking her braid. "…But it could also just be some dried blood and mud!" he quickly added. "In fact, it's probably just dried blood and mud."
"I'm sure that Oin will be able to fix whatever's wrong," Fili told her, his words more reassuring than his brother's. "He's a great healer—I once saw him reattach three of someone's fingers."
"…What happened to the other two?" she dared to ask.
"Eh, we're not sure. We think one of the hogs ate his thumb, though."
"Hogs will eat anything, you know," Kili told her, his tone quite factual.
She couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Yes, they will. That's why pig farmers have to be careful—especially when their livestock is thrice as big as them." Still stroking her hair, she risked looking up to find that they were almost back to the farmhouse. "A few years ago, an older pig farmer went missing…only thing ever found of him was his right glove in the middle of his pigsty. After that, all his hogs were turned loose because no one wanted to eat pigs that had, most likely, eaten a fellow hobbit."
The brothers wore similar looks of disgust. "…Let's hope that was the only hobbit they ever ate," Fili said with a small chuckle.
"Or, perhaps, there are now murderous pigs out in the wilds of the Shire, just waiting to find the next unsuspecting hobbit," Kili grinned, his voice taking on a dramatic flair. "How many hobbits have gone missing since the pigs were set free?"
She snorted, lightly nudging him. "Very funny, Kili," she told him. Her brow rose slightly only to quickly lower again as it made her eye area ache.
Soon enough, the four of them were in the farmhouse. Oin sent Kili out to fetch some water from the well while he had Fili dump the now-burnt soup from the cooking pot, freeing it up to boil some of the water. He then told Baylee to sit on the dining bench as he fetched his medicine kit from his belongings.
"Now, lassie, I wish I could tell you that this'll be painless," he said once he had bowls of both hot and cold water beside him, "but I can't. There's no tellin' what sort of damage you've got hiding under all that grime. I'll be as gentle as I can." He pulled some dried herbs from a pouch and rolled them between his hands over the bowl of hot water. Their broken leaves fluttered down into the water and, soon, released a pleasant scent.
Swallowing hard, she nodded and did her best to steel herself for whatever pain was about to come her way. She watched Oin dip a clean cloth into the hot water before squeezing out most of the excess. He instructed her to close her eye for now and she so. A quiet hiss of pain left her mouth when she felt the first few drops of hot water land on her skin and she gripped the edge of the bench.
Oin did as he said—he was as gentle as he could be. But as the protective layer of dirt and dried blood was removed, the stinging got worse and worse. Soon, Baylee's knuckles were white and her nails were digging into the bench while pained whimpers left her mouth. What was even less comforting was the grim look that had come to his face.
"This is definitely goin' to leave a mark," he told her. "A layer or two o' skin was taken off o' most o' your eyelid and some from your cheek, as well."
"H-How bad will it scar?" she asked.
"No, no—I won't be usin' any tar t' fix it."
"Scar, Oin," Fili said, practically shouting into his bad ear. "How bad will it scar?"
"Oh! Quite badly, I'm afraid." He then grabbed the bowl of cool water, which had gone untouched until now, and a clean cloth. "I'm goin' to flush your eye now," he explained to the hobbit. "Again, I don't know if it's goin' to hurt or not, but there's a strong chance it will. From what I can see right now, you've got a big scratch right across the front o' your eye."
She nodded shakily and took a deep breath. Tilting her head back, she opened her eyes as wide as possible; it was difficult keeping her injured eye open thanks to the light making it sting horribly. She felt Oin press the cloth to the side of her face and she watched him raise the bowl over her head.
A cry of pain left her mouth as the water hit her eye and she instinctively lurched backwards, her eyes clenching shut. Though Oin had only trickled the water onto her eye, it had felt like a searching hot knife was driven into it.
"I'm sorry, lass, but I need t' flush it more," Oin told her, the grim expression back on his face. "I barely got any water in it—not nearly enough t' give it a proper rinse."
Fili and Kili glanced at one another before moving to sit on either side of her. "Here," Fili said, taking her hand, "you can squeeze our hands."
"It'll help keep you from lurching," Kili added.
Again, she nodded and, swallowing hard, she leaned forward once more. It took a great deal of willpower to open her eye again and, as she did, she tightly gripped Fili and Kili's hands. Tilting her head back, she held her breath as Oin made to pour more water in her eye. Another cry left her mouth, but rather than lurching away, she forced herself to stay upright and her eyes to remain open.
Fili winced slightly; for a small hobbit lass, she had a surprisingly strong grip. His own eyes were shut, as any injuries having to do with eyes left him feeling squeamish and fidgety. When he felt her grip finally loosen, he dared to open one eye to look at her. She was pale and shaking while there were tears streaming from her good eye.
With the eye now as clean as he could get it, Oin saw that much of the blood remained behind, trapped in her sclera. "The blood should go away in a few days, so nothin' much t' worry about with that. But…Hm. Lass, could you cover your good eye an' tell me what everything looks like?"
Shakily doing as he instructed, she looked around. While she could see, everything was comprised of colorful, fuzzy blobs; her heart started racing in fear. Turning, she looked at Kili, seeing that she could somewhat make out the line of his jaw—at least, she thought it was his jaw. His entire head was a dark mass with a pale dot in the middle. Facing Fili, she found it nearly impossible to distinguish any of his features thanks to all the similar colors on his face.
"Everything's just blobs of color," she said, having to speak a little louder, even though Oin was holding his ear trumpet up. "I-I-I can't tell what anything is! Fili and Kili are right next to me and I can't tell their nose from their eyes!"
"Calm down, lassie," Oin told her, his voice a bit gentle. "The front o' your eye is badly scratched up—which is why everything's blurry. There's not much I can do with it, especially with the supplies I've got. The most I can do is treat your injuries around the eye an' wrap a bandage around it, I'm afraid."
"W-will it get better?" she asked. "Will I get my sight back?"
At first, she and the princes thought Oin hadn't heard her. He lowered his hearing trumpet and walked over to his medicine kit, where he grabbed some bandages and a small pot. They watched as he opened it to make sure it was the right one. Just when Baylee was about to ask him about her sight again, he looked up, his face more somber than before.
"I can't lie, lassie. There's a good chance that the eye will go completely blind," he told her. "Or worse—I may have t' remove it."