CHAPTER 14
The camp is a place of chaos within seconds of Fili's shout. Weapons are grabbed and ready without an order even being given. I watch it all with a bored expression set on to my face to hide the interest that is creeping into my mind. Reading or watching others interact with trolls is boring. Being there to witness it though? That... That might just be a tiny bit interesting. Just a tiny bit... Not so much that I want to get involved (It ends in death no matter whose) but enough to make me think about it.
"Young Miss!" Blinking out of my thoughts, I peer at Balin. Strapping his weapons to his side, he gives me a stern look "It is too dangerous for you. Please stay here and DO NOT leave."
"All right." It is his turn to blink at me. I suppose I've succeeded in coming off as stubborn to a suicidal fault. Mission accomplished, way to go me! Still, shrugging with a sigh, I address the shocked dwarf "I heard the princess. He said 'trolls'. I can't handle a troll, singular thus I can't handle trolls, plural. I may be insane but I'm not crazy. You couldn't get me to go if you promised me a Coke Classic."
He stares for a moment or two longer before nodding slowly and joining his kin in their rapid departure. Each one of them gives me a questioning look as they pass me by but I just wave them off. When they have all gone, I feel a little lost as to what to do while they... Do battle I guess. I'm not suffering from Stockholm syndrome, I just know this will take a while... What am I supposed to DO until then?
Leaning against a tree, I close my eyes with a sigh. I'm not warrior. I'm tough, but I'm not a warrior so I can't even go just for the sake of it... I'd only be in the way... Not that I'd go even if I was a warrior because this is hardly my fight. I don't really care what they're doing... They're not likely to appreciate my help. Not that I could be of any help. Because I'm useless. I'm Useless. You're pathetic. You good for-
"Stop it, Atina. Don't go there."
Smacking myself roughly awake before the dream starts, I decide to make myself a quick meal while I have the opportunity. Digging through Bombur's bag, I find a gold mine of food. My stomach awakens with a vengeance as I stare at the small place of heaven. I don't want anyone to know I took anything, so I settle on making a simple sandwich.
"Some of this... and some of that... oh goodness I've got to have a dash of that aaaaand voila!"
Holding my masterpiece to the sky, I smile widely before taking a bite. It's freaking delicious. I basically inhale the sandwich before sitting to rub my belly like a content cat. Yet... it's no sooner than it's all in my gullet, that I hear the unmistakable sound of thundering footsteps.
"Where are ye, little Snick snack?"
Scrambling for cover, I duck into the old house. Crawling into the darkest corner, I ignore the debris pressing into my knees.
"I tol' William I'd get him another lady and I know yer here. I can smell it."
The troll inhales deeply and the low fire in the center of camp roars to life as it chases the air being sucked up his nose. I'm not lucky enough for it to burn him but it causes the shadows to dance wildly on the charred walls behind me. I can't move any further into the house and in my heart I know that I'm caught.
It was always like this, wasn't it? I could run. I would hide... but I can never escape. Because some enemies won't let dogs lie until they lie dead. By the end of the night this troll, Bert, is going to be dead. He's evil, I guess... He's a creature of the dark... I'm not all light myself but I should not feel bad for his death. Yet in reality right now all he's trying to do is eat so he doesn't die. But he's going to die because of that. He's going to die because I want to live. Because I'm too scared to die.
The well-known fear of my inevitable capture and now his subsequent death creeps up on me faster than expected and I begin to gasp for breath. The pitiful sound is enough to draw his attention even as a cover my mouth. I want to tell him to go away. I want him to stop putting this burden on me because I can't give up even though I want to. I just want this all to be over. I want him to take his life out of my hands but his steps grow nearer and nearer until I'm staring into the face of he who would surely eat me alive if given the chance.
"Found ye."
I don't mean to... Honestly I thought I was strong enough not to but I'm not. I'm not because despite my best efforts I still want to live. It means that after all I've been through and with more to come, I still can't give up. It means I'm going to make sure I survive.
God... that sound that gives rise to a primitive urge to fight... I wish I'd just let him kill me here... But... As that hand reaches towards me... Caked in dirt and blood and waste... Promising all sorts of harm... I can't help but to do it.
It claws up my throat like a vicious spider; biting and tearing the whole way to my mouth. The shrill sound is so full of fear, desperation, and life, that for a moment I don't even recognize that it's me screaming.
"Quiet you!" Producing a large knife, Bert the troll jabs at me in a threatening manner. Quickly overcoming my momentary lapse into my fears, I shut my trap. It's already decided been anyway "I'll be hearin' no more o' that, now will I, Missy?"
"..."
"Well?"
"O-Oh! You... You want me to... Answer..."
"Course I do. Wouldn't of ast you if I didn't, now would I? "
"... No, Mister Bert."
"Tha's right 'no'." Retracting the blade from my personal space, the troll taps it against his chin lightly. It makes a sound like someone is dragging it against leather "Mister Bert. I like the sounds of that."
"You do?"
"Aye, I do! I'll take ye to William and let him hear ye say it, and right good ye will say it, Missy." His hand shoots forward again without warning and his thick fingers squeeze me tightly, causing a gasp to rush pass my lips "Oi! I said none of that!"
"Bu-But I can't b-breathe, Mister Bert."
"... Oh." Bringing me up to his face, the large creature peers at me critically as he loosens his grip a smidgen "Ye will not scream and go makin' a ruckus to ruin supper, now will ye?"
"... I won't."
"And ye will tell William? About the mister?"
"I will."
"Very good then." Stomping over to a large bag he must have dropped earlier, Bert shakes it out before dumping me inside "I'll eat you for dessert then, little missy."
This bag is bigger than the others; it fully engulfs my body even though I am bigger than the dwarves... Or rather taller... Either way it covers me fully with room to spare. I take the time to prepare myself for what's to come. As such, I sit mentally and physically awkwardly at the bottom of the bag, trying to stay balanced as I'm carried through the woods. It's dark enough without being covered from head to toe and it makes me tired but I'm in no position to take a nap. I mustn't endure for long though, as within minutes we have reached the troll camp. The two other trolls are loudly arguing and Bert doesn't make it any better with his entrance.
"Never mind the seasoni-"
"Never mind? After I went to fetch us a dessert ye say 'nevermind the seasonin'?" Though I can't see anything, I can feel my carrier begin to a shoving match with his companion. William, being the slightly bigger of the two, ends up winning as he trips the other troll. With a low howl of discontent, Bert cradles my sack to his chest. "William, you git! Ye'll ruin it!"
"Oh yeah? And just what is it?"
"Itssa lady!" Turning my bag upside down so that I can tumbling out in a tangle of limbs, Bert presents me as his prize. Not bothering to listen to the dwarves groans of frustration, I focus on the task at hand. Regaining my balance, I immediately stumble as Bert pokes me in the back. Tell him, Missy. Tell him like ye told me.
"Um... Yes sir, Mister Bert."
"Did ya hear that, William?" Tom's nasally voice bounces as he leaps from foot to foot. He shakes the ground with each step, not that he cares "She called him Mista!
"Very nice but if you've time to introduce yourself to dessert, then help me get these dwarves roasted!"
"All right. All right... But I ain't go introducing myself..."
"Is that so? Then how did she know your name?"
"She knows... She knows cause I... well..." Those stony fingers close around me again as Bert's face scrunches up in confusion. He turns to me with a questioning glint in his eye that is almost childlike in its stupidity "I ain't tell ye my name, did I?"
"No, Mister Bert."
"But ye know it?"
"Yes, Mister Bert."
"How?"
"Um... well..."
The troll isn't squeezing the life out of me, so I hope it's safe to assume that he is more curious than suspicious. Glancing around, I find everyone in their proper places. The wild card here is me. If I can set everything back on course, then hopefully I can make it out of this alive... and that's the sickening goal of survival "I know because I was sent from a Faraway land to help. You need a proper meal tonight. You are fine young growing trolls... Right?"
"Right ya are! Right we are!" Snot bucket Tom prances around camp, preening in the Moonlight as Bert allows me to rest faintly on his knuckles "Help us then! Bert can't get it right and William don't very much care any."
"Well... Have you tried squirrel dung?"
"First thing I tried, I did!"
Loosening his grip as not to dislodge me, Bert flops into a sitting position with a worn out sigh. If he wasn't planning to eat me, I'd feel even worse for him. As he is, I simply place my chin in my hand and pretend to think hard. Humming in thought, I glance at Bilbo who looks just as confused as the dwarves behind him. Pretending to suddenly notice his presence I jump up into Bert's loose palm.
"You didn't tell me you had a flugerburbur-hobbit, Mister Bert! They know plenty about cooking."
"Oh?" Rolling over onto his side to stare down into Bilbo's face, Bert sniffs at the hobbit roughly "Do ye prefer a Sage or parsley?"
"Well..." he looks at me and I give him the 'go on, idiot' eyebrows "That's h-h-hardly a question. Have you smelt them? Heh... heheh."
"I have, Mister Bert." I hurriedly intervene when Bilbo doesn't continue as Burt begins to laugh uproariously at his insult. His fear is going to get me killed "Hardly fresh... Cannot have that. They smell something awful."
"Hm..."
"It's true! Uh... um... Mister... Bert... You're going to need something stronger than sage before you play this lot up!"
The banter begins to smoothly run its course and I sighed in relief at having the company's, and trolls', fate out of my hands. I can barely save myself from myself on most days. With my part done, my gaze wanders for a moment only to land on the mostly scowling dwarf pile. Most of them throw curses at Bilbo for the help they don't know he's giving. Balin though... He looks at me as though I've solved some monumental puzzle. Given that I suggested eating squirrel poo and asking a made up creature for culinary advice, I don't know what his deal is.
"I've got a huuuuuuuge parasites!"
"Oh, Kili. You are a parasite." No one hears my mutterings thankfully, each competing to be the biggest sack of unpleasant assortments. It isn't until Tom bends to look at me that I actually pay attention "Um... What?"
"Do ya have parasites too?"
"Nope. Clean as a whistle, but I'm for dessert. Figure out dinner first, buddy."
The troll actually looks a bit saddened by the news that he can't chow down on me immediately. It's honestly a surprise that any of them have lived this long, what with them cutting it so close to dawn over spices. Bert tosses me back in to my bag to keep Tom's squinty eyes off of me but I'm not worried. It's almost over now...
"The dawn will take you all!"
Gandalf is right on time. I'd like to be relieved but I can't because of the screaming. Oh... the screaming. It was all fun and games until they start screaming. There's no preparing for it or escaping the wretched sound as Bert brings his hand, with me in it, up to his head. It gives me a front-row seat of the sound of his very flesh searing to a crisp and hardening like rock. I scream how sorry I am over and over but he's so loud... he's in so much pain that I doubt he notices as he burns alive.
It's traumatizing, even more so when the dwarves cheer at such an event. They are supposed to be the good guys. The heroes of a valiant story. They aren't supposed to be... like this. I'm glad Anita isn't here because this would break her heart. I'm glad that I'm hidden in the sack because this is breaking my own. At least this way, no one can see my traitorous tears betraying the gentle soul that I refuse to admit I still have. Surviving is the worst thing I've ever done... but I'm very good at it.
Woooooah. Thia chapter was stocked with Atina's responses to her issues, yet it doesn't tell what they are. Guilt. Suicidal thoughts. Feelings of being worthless. And to top it all off, I heart so sensitive even She can't touch it. Oh, my poor girl