Bilbo stared out the motel window, desperately wishing that Gandalf's bike light would crest over the darkened parking lot, but with each passing moment, as minutes ticked by and nothing changed, Bilbo became more and more discouraged. Huffing a burst of hot air out of his nose for the umpteenth time that night, Bilbo looked back at the men scattered around the room. Some of the men were passed out on the beds and some on the floor. Only half the men were in this room, however, Thorin, Dwalin, Balin and a few other men were located in the room next door.
"Stop it," Bofur chastised Bombur, pulling a duffle bag full of food away from his brother, "you've had plenty." Noticing Bilbo watching them, Bofur smiles kindly and throws a few granola bars towards him. "Do me a favor, Bilbo, and give those to Kili and Fili. They're outside keeping watch."
Gathering the granola bars that had fallen to the floor due to his inability to catch, Bilbo stuttered out an acquiesce and made his way out into the cold, quiet dark that was the parking lot. He spotted the two young boys quickly. They were standing on the other end of the parkinglot, a decorative hedge was planted in front of them, seperating them from the bikes. With silent feet he made his way over to them. Kili and Fili were starring blankly before them, an uncomprehending look darkening their eyes. Slowly looking between the boys and the bikes, Bilbo asked, "What's the matter?"
Kili, who hadn't heard Bilbo's approach, jumped slightly at the sound of his voice and blushed brightly as a result. Rubbing the back of his neck, he grinned broadly—too broadly, Bilbo noted, seeing as how much the skin around his mouth stretched to accommodate such a smile—and laughed nervously. "Well, you see, we're supposed to be keeping watch of the bikes . . ."
"And we've run into a . . . problem," Fili continued, not looking away from the row of motorcycles. His brows were furrowed and his mouth set in a deep frown as he tried to work something out in his head.
"We had sixteen," Kili stressed.
"Now we have fourteen," Fili finished, his eyes flicking back and forth as he counted and recounted the bikes.
"Well that's not good," Bilbo stated the obvious, mostly to himself, as the boys returned to staring at the bikes. "Shouldn't we tell Thorin?"
Blinking and straightening his spine, Fili finally looked away from the bikes down to Bilbo and firmly shook his head, "Uh, no. Let's not do that. It'll only worry him," he glanced quickly at his brother who vigorously shook his head in agreement. "As our official burglar, we thought you might like to look into it."
Bilbo's eyes flitted between the two, trying to figure a way to politely decline such an offer while simultaneously trying to figure out how this mystery required the skills of a burglar. "Umm," he stalled, still thinking.
Luckily he didn't have to come up with an answer because just half a moment later, Fili hissed, "Light!" And pulled Kili and Bilbo down to the ground with him.
Kili crouched on the balls of his toes to look out at the approaching light. "What is it?" Bilbo asked, curiosity overcoming his fear.
"Trolls," he replied.
"Trolls?" Bilbo squeaked. He knew the young siblings were jokesters but this was too much. "Trolls do not exist," he hissed through his teeth.
"What?" Fili asked, confused. Then, with a strike of mental illumination, he rolled his eyes and snickered. "Not trolls, trolls—that's their last name. Troll."
"And there are three of them," Kili added, joining in on the mistimed mirth. "So they're Trolls. Plural."
"And capitalized." Fili mentioned offhandedly, then continued, "Bert, Tom, and William Troll." Fili frowned in thought once again. "What are they doing so far south, I wonder?"
"Stealing our bikes, apparently." Kili supplied, glaring at them from his crouched position.
Narrowing his eyes, Bilbo wondered what these three men looked like—partially to see if they deserved the name Troll—and slowly, as not to make a sound, moved into a similar position as Kili so he could look over the hedge that blocked them from the Trolls' vision. Well, it seemed to Bilbo that these men did indeed deserve the name of Troll. They were tall—not as tall as Gandalf, but taller than any of the Sons of Durin—with short, muscular legs, long, thick arms, and squat faces that made it seem like they'd been stepped on while children. Each of them had blond hair, cut short to the scalp that made them look almost bald. Bilbo winced at the sight of them. They were most unfortunate looking.
When they'd finally crossed the road in front of the motel and through the parking lot to the bikes, one of them grabbed onto the handlebars of a bike and with a grunt hefted it over his shoulders and began walking away carrying the bike fireman style. The other two, who weren't as strong as the third—and really, Bilbo wondered with his jaw dropped halfway to the ground, who was?—shared the weight of another bike and began to follow the first across the street in front of the hotel.
"Why don't you stop them?" Bilbo whispered even though the Trolls were probably too far away to hear.
"What, just the two of us?" Kili asked, eyes wide with shock.
"We've got no weapons, for starters," Fili started to explain. "And the Trolls are not something you want to go up against without those."
"Why not?" Bilbo didn't understand. Sure, the Trolls were larger and obnoxiously strong, but Fili and Kili were strong as well-or, at least Bilbo assumed from how many chair they'd broken in his house by hefting them up into the air-and with the added element of surprise on their side.
"Too risky," Kili said, looking more serious than Bilbo had ever seen him. His dark eyes stared straight into Bilbo's gray ones. Pursing his lips, Kili continued, "Trolls are notorious for stealing things and stripping them for parts."
"And they're not known for stopping with machines, if you catch our meaning," Fili continued, just as serious and twice as solemn as his brother.
"What, like, human parts?" Bilbo asked after a few seconds of silence. He hoped he had guessed wrong, but when neither brother corrected him he gulped. "Well, we've got to do something!" He whispered in a rush. "Without those bikes we're stranded!"
"Yes, you should!" Kili's eyes brightened with an idea. Bilbo began to shake his head with refusal, but Kili plowed on, "The Trolls are slow and pretty stupid! You're small and fast—you can follow them no problem. They'll never see you!"
"No, n—no, no," Bilbo tried to say, but couldn't quite manage to get the boys to hear his refusal.
"It's perfectly safe," he continued, "we'll be right behind you!"
"If you run into trouble," Fili added, overly excited now as well, "rev twice like a Corvette, and once like a Ferrari." He nodded like this was the best plan in the world when in reality Bilbo didn't even think he could tell the difference between the two cars, much less imitate their engine noises. Practically pushing him onto his back, Fili and Kili ushered him away from their hidden shrub and towards the backs of the Trolls.
Bilbo followed the Trolls—from a great distance, of course—across the street, through a series of interconnecting parking lots that used to belong to a strip mall. Now they were just used to park conspicuously inconspicuous cars that looked like they'd come straight out of a crime drama-the type an undercover cop would use-all the way to a storage warehouse. The sound of metal being crushed greeted Bilbo's ears as he walked closer to their base of operations. Peering around the corner of a storage unit, he could see the Sons of Durin's bikes thrown carelessly into a heap by the side of the room, next to an industrial sized freezer. One that restaurants used to freeze massive amounts of meats for later use.
Mouth dry, Bilbo tried to get a closer look. He could see the Trolls all wore matching leather jackets with their names printed on the backs. Thinking back to Kili's comment about them being stupid and wondered if the decoration was due to the Trolls not knowing which jacket belonged to which brother, or because they forgot each others—and possibly their own—names. Shaking his head of the thought, Bilbo forced down what little saliva had pooled int his mouth and focused on what each Troll brother was doing.
Tom stood closest to the bikes, unconsciously tapping his foot against one of the tires in an almost compulsive way. William looked over Bert's shoulder as he sat on the floor and counted numerous dollar bills in front of him.
"Two hundred yesterday, two hundred worth today, and fuck it," Bert groaned and threw his head back to gaze at the ceiling, "looks like another two hundred tomorrow, too."
"Shut up," Tom called out, crossing his arms over his chest, "These ain't Prius's here," he jerked his chin to the biked next to him. "They're good condition Harley's. They'll fetch good prices."
"Not as good as their owners would have," William chimed in with a vicious snarl of a smirk. Bilbo shivered when he thought about the implications of his statement.
"Yeah, well can't keep doing that, now can we?" Bert snarled back, obviously annoyed with the situation. "Can't keep raising suspicions, can we?"
"Not unless we get rid of the suspicious as well," William qualified.
"Well Soleil wasn't being get rid of, was she?" Tom said angrily, his gray-white face turning a blotchy red. "He's the reason we're down here, now ain't he?"
The other two grumbled their agrreeance and went back to their silent work. Bilbo took this moment to take out his phone. Making revving noises at this point would have been idiotic anyway, and with a quick swipe of his screen, he brought up the cell phone's camera and zoomed in on the motorcycles. He'd take a quick photo, send it to Thorin and the rest with the address, and they'd come running to the rescue. Smiling proudly at his resourcefulness, Bilbo aimed the camera at the bikes and snapped the picture.
Too late he realized his mistake. He'd forgotten to turn the automatic setting off, and with it the flash. "What was that?" One of the Trolls asked. Bilbo didn't see which. Eyes wide, muscles frozen with fear, he tried his best not to bring more attention to himself. The Trolls looked for the source of the flash, and upon seeing Bilbo, shouted, "Oi! Get him!" Bilbo didn't have time to run. With no time at all, three Trolls were on him, dragging him into the storage until by his arm, leg, and hair.
"Who're you?" Tom asked, his face so close to Bilbo's that he could smell the sour scent of his rotten teeth. Holding on to his gag reflex, Bilbo tried to answer but nothing more than a squeak escaped him. Snorting out a laugh, Tom stood up to his full height. "Looks like an over sized squirrel to me."
The brothers laughed, but then William grabbed his hand and with terrible ease, took the phone out of Bilbo's hand. "More like a rat to me." He tried to open the phone, but without the password or a lick of patience, soon grew frustrated and threw the phone to the floor. Bilbo squeaked again, his mind going over the fact that that had been a brand new phone and AT&T would charge him a small fortune to get a new one. It was stupid, he knew, a small part of his brain told him there were more important matter at hand, but still. Next time, he told himself, he'd spring for the insurance.
"You know what ma used to say," Bert said, "find one rat and you'll soon find then more." The Trolls smiled greedily. "Tell me, little rat, any more of you running around?"
"No," he told them shortly, trying to sound authoritative.
"He's lying," William said, his squashed face frowning with focus and frustration.
"Am not!" Bilbo's voice cracked, but he still hoped they'd believe him and not look for the others.
"Cut off his fingers. Make him squeal," William ordered while pulling a knife out from the back of his waistband.
With a flash of brown and a cry sounding as if it'd come straight from the battle field, Kili rushed forward and slid while slashing out at William's tendons with one small knife in each hand. William fell with a wail and an echoing thump against the floor. "Drop him!" Kili ordered, standing above William's fetal positioned form.
"You what?" Tom asked, his small eyes narrowing with confusion and anger.
"I said," Kili repeated, placing a foot on the hollow of William's throat, making the Troll gag. "Drop him."
Sharing a glance with Bert, Tom grabbed Bilbo by the scruff of his coat collar and hurled him towards Kili. Kili, who was not prepared for the impact, was not properly braced to receive Bilbo's form as he flew towards him. Bilbo felt Kili's chest deflate as the wind was knocked out of hum. More shouting sounds behind Bilbo's closed eyes and he opens them to the Sons of Durin charging the Trolls, arms raised with weapons in hand. Most were holding knives but a few had guns in hand as well. Bilbo knew they were only for show though. The Sons of Durin were not stupid-at least, Bilbo ammended mentally, not stupid enough to shoot a gun off in a room full of metal. Or so he hoped. He'd prefer not to be hit by a ricocheting bullet, thank you very much.
Taking advantage of the discord, Bilbo scrambled off of Kili and ran for the bikes. If he could just get enough outside they could ride away. The Trolls would never be able to keep up with them and why would they even try? He'd gotten three out of the unit and was heading back for the fourth bike when he once again felt someone grab at the scruff of his coat collar and pull him backwards towards the chest of a Troll. Something sharp pressed itself against his neck and Bilbo gulped. He didn't need to see it to know it was a knife pressed against him. "Bilbo!" Kili called out, the first to notice his predicament.
"No!" Thorin called out, his shoulders hunched with stress and his expression one of equal parts frustration and panic. His eyes widen when the knife is pressed harder against Bilbo's skin, causing the shallowest of cuts and drawing the slightest amount of blood to flow down the curve of his neck. Thorin's grip on his gun tightened, but it was too low and he would not have enough time to raise it and aim properly before the Troll did his damage to Bilbo.
"Drop your weapons," Tom ordered, his breathing labored, "or I'll drop his head." He dug the knife even deeper, reinforcing his point. The Sons of Durin looked to Thorin, unsure of what to do. Thorin's Adam-apple wavered and his gaze slid to Bilbo's. Slowly, and without breaking eye contact, he kneeled down to drop both his gun and knife to the ground. The others, seeing Thorin's actions, soon followed suit and bent down to their knees as well.
After tying each man's wrists and ankles together with plastic zip ties and throwing them all together in one heap, the Troll brothers began to discuss what was to be done with them next. "Don't bother using no anesthesia," William said, nursing his red and swollen throat with some ice while Tom bandaged his mangled ankles. He glared at Kili over his brother's head. "Let's just cut them open as is."
Bert sighed with the patience of one thousand saints. They'd obviously had this conversation before. "If we do that we risk all the organs. Their hearts will go into shock, kidneys will fail first and we'll only get the spleen if we're lucky. No, we need to do this right. Kidneys, liver, then heart. Those are the top three. The only three that count. Just one kidney alone will get us over two hundred thousand."
"Oh, that sounds quite nice," William agreed, his greedy nature overcoming his temporary thirst for revenge.
"Never mind all this talk," Tom growled, moving to grab the tanks containing the anesthesia. "We haven't got all night! Soleil ain't far away, so let's get a move on. I don't fancy going to jail." he grabbed two men—Oin and Gloin—and began strapping the breathing masks over their faces.
"Wait! You're making a terrible mistake!" Bilbo blurted out, his tongue moving faster than his mind could think. He was on the verge of a plan, he knew it, but it was a long shot and he hoped they were at least half as stupid as Kili said and that T.V didn't lie one hundred percent of the time.
"You can't reason with them!" Dori's voice sounded somewhere behind Bilbo. "They're half-wits!"
Bofur's voice came next, sounding incredulous, "Half-wits? What does that make us?"
Rolling his body back and forth until he could roll himself up into a sitting position, Bilbo continued as if he hadn't heard the men behind him. "I—uh-I meant with the anesthesia! Yes, with the anesthesia."
"What about it?" Bert asked, his attention clearly piqued though his narrowed eyes clearly showed his suspicion and distrust.
"Well do you know which ahh—chemical combination you're using? If you don't use the proper dose the body could react poorly and die prematurely, but it could also not be enough to put the person completely under—especially a rambunctious group like this if you know what I mean." Multiple cries of traitor and backstabber were yelled around him and someone was even so upset with the turn of events they were able to lash out by kicking Bilbo square in the back, causing him to fall back over onto his side. As he pushed himself back into a sitting position, he made eye contact with Thorin and silently begged him to understand his plan. Thorin stared straight back, not blinking or averting his gaze. His expression was surprisingly calm, considering the circumstances, and Bilbo hoped that meant Thorin understood what he was doing.
"What do you know about surgical procedures?" Tom asked disdainfully, his flat nose wrinkling into a snarl. Still, he'd stopped his preparations and also turned his attention to Bilbo.
"Shut up," Bert snapped, "and let the . . . uh, rat. . .talk."
"Um, well, the secret to proper sedation is. . .um," Bilbo stumbled and swallowed thickly, his tongue seeming to have tripled in size.
"Yes? Come on," Bert said patiently.
"It's, uh—"
"Tell us the secret," whatever patience he had was waning quickly.
Bilbo had to think fast. Squeezing his eyes shut and praying for a miracle, he opened his mouth and heard himself say, "Soak them in lukewarm water!"
"Tom, get the hose," Bert ordered without hesitation. Bilbo was amazed that he believed him and that his plan was working—at least, so far—but wasn't about to question his surprising success. Of course, the peanut gallery wasn't exactly thrilled. Both Gloin and Dwalin threatened to gut him.
"What a load of bull!" Tom snapped back at Bert. "I've never soaked a single body and never had a problem. Cut 'em open, dry and all, I say!"
"He's right," William agrees, the vengeful glint returning into his eyes as he once more laid eyes on Kili. "Nothing wrong with our method, s'far as I can tell." Reaching over, he grabbed onto Bombur's hair and pulled him up to be sedated.
Heart sinking dead at the bottom of his chest with fear, Bilbo found himself talking again, "Not that one! He's—he's diseased!"
"You what?" Tom asked, his squinty eyes widening with understanding. He knew what a diseased body meant for the organs within.
"Yeah, he's got . . . leprosy!" Immediately William released Bombur. "Yeah—yeah, in fact, they've all got it. Parasites, too! Worms in the digestive system and ticks in the—er, heart!" Bilbo didn't know if ticks could make their way into the heart, but it didn't seem so unreasonable. At least, not in the heat of the moment. "I wouldn't risk it—selling wise—terrible business. I really wouldn't."
"Parasites?" He heard Oin whispered voice behind him. "Did he say parasites?"
"We don't have parasites!" Kili argued, flailing his body about in attempt to fight Bilbo's words. "You have parasites!" Had it been any other situation, Bilbo would have laughed at Kili's juvenile response, but at the moment he simply continued to stare at the Trolls and hoped they ignored those around him. More and more of them begin to agree with Oin and Kili and adamantly claim that they do not, in fact, have parasites, making Bilbo roll his eyes up to the high heavens. If they didn't shut up, they'd ruin everything.
Thorin, though, thank heaven for Thorin, Bilbo thought. His clear blue eyes flared to life with perfect understanding and he roughly kicked both Kili and Oin, giving his mean silent but meaningful looks. With just a breaths worth of silence, the men's tune changed and they began speaking about all their parasites with great detail.
"I've got parasites as big as my arm!" Oin bragged, nodding his head vigorously.
Next was Kili, practically shouting over Oin, "Mine are the biggest. I've got huge parasites!"
"We're riddled," Nori remarked mildly. "Stomach, liver, you name it, we've got it."
"Oh, yes," Ori said almost pleasantly, "I'm riddled!"
"Yes, we are. Badly!" Dori confirmed with a solemn expression.
It was getting lighter outside, which was good, Bilbo thought. He was so close. Just a little longer. Tom's snarl brought Bilbo back to the present. "You think I don't know what you're up to?" He asked, looming closer to the group. "This little ferret is taking us for fools!"
"Ferret?" Bilbo repeated, wondering what happened to 'rat'.
"Fools?" Bert repeated, looking at his brother with confusion. He turned his narrowed eyed gaze towards Bilbo, his small brain trying to decide whether or not he was telling the truth and then what to do to Bilbo if he agreed with his brother.
A tall, skinny shadow appeared in the doorway. The bright sky behind him blocked his face, but his voice left no room for confusion as Gandalf shouted, "The dawn will take you all!" and pulled down on the fire alarm on the inside of the way, sounding the alarm. The Trolls all swore and, with no thought at all, ran for the exit; William limping behind them. Quickly Gandalf bustled over to the Suns of Durin and Bilbo and with a small, Swiss army knife, began to cut their plastic ties.
"Gandalf!" Bilbo exclaimed. "You're just going to let them go?" The thought horrified him. Those men were monsters who'd continue to hunt and harvest people for their organs. They couldn't be allowed to escape.
With a serene expression and a soft smile, Gandalf cut Bilbo's ties and nodded his head in the direction the Trolls ran. "Why Bilbo, you should know me better than that by now. Let them go?" He shook his head good naturedly. "I should think not."
Curious, Bilbo stood up and peeked around the corner and smiled at the sight. Two police squad cars with lights blazing brighter than the sun and one undercover car were parked blocking the Trolls path to freedom. They were on their knees, hands placed on top of their hands as three officers aimed their guns on their bodies and a fourth began to handcuff and read their rights. "Fucking Soleil!" Tom shouted his disdain to one of the detectives standing in front of them. A satisfied smirk gracing her lips as she led them each into their own car to be driven away to jail.
"Come along now, Bilbo," Gandalf's voice sounded behind him. "We must be on our way, before the police discover our existence." Looking over, Bilbo saw the Sons of Durin righting their bikes and preparing for their escape. Nodding his head, and setting his shoulders, Bilbo found Bofur and settled himself into the sidecar. A small laugh escaped him at the thought that just over twenty four hours ago the scariest thing he'd ever encountered was a sidecar with no seat belt. Now, looking back on the night's events, Bilbo had a new appreciation for the word fear and he wasn't too sure how he felt about that.
A/N: Ok, so, a couple things...
1. Yeah, the Trolls are ridiculously strong and very few people can lift a motorcycle over their shoulder in real life, but whatever, it's fiction. And I feel like it wasn't something expected/normal in the fic either (Bilbo obviously didn't think so).
2. Bilbo's plan wasn't fully explained at the end of this chapter (it was cut short by Gandalf, actually) and that will be explained at the beginning of next chapter.
Please leave a comment or kudos as they are always appreciated! Next chapter will be coming . . . soon . . .