A Tale of Swords and Dragons: The Journey Begins. A 'The Hobbit' Fanfiction

Magic

Knurlheim = Alagaësian Dwarvish - Stonehead
Barzûl = Alagaësian Dwarvish - to curse someone with ill-fate
Rïsa = Alagaësian Elvish - rise
Thrysta = Alagaësian Elvish - thrust
Kvesrt = Alagaësian Elvish - cut
Gath du sverdar un lam iet = Alagaësian Elvish - Unite the swords with my hand
Ono ach néiat threyja eom verrunsmal edtha, snalgí = Alagaësian Elvish - You do not want to fight me, giant snails.
Gedwëy ignasia = Alagaësian Elvish - shinning palm
Letta du brisingr = Alagaësian Elvish - Stop the fire

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"Don't bother cooking them." The dumbest Troll known as Tom grumbles. "Let's just sit on them and squash them into jelly."

The Dwarves, Bilbo and I are currently in two groups: one that consists of Thorin, Bilbo, Kili, Fili, Bombur, Oin, Balin and myself, and we are tied up in sacks, a little ways from the fire. The second group, which is the rest of the Dwarves, are currently being roasted alive over a large fire, surrounded by the three Trolls, who are arguing about how they are going to cook us.

"They should be sautéed," The biggest Troll William argues, "and grilled with a sprinkle of sage." I have been thrown next to a struggling Thorin, who has refused to look at me since my face was revealed a while ago. Trust me, huh? I am presently trying to think of a way out of this, before I am sautéed. I can't believe these dumb brutes even know that word.

"That does sound quite nice." Tom says in his dumb voice. If only they had kept my boots on me, I could have used my secret knives. The Trolls have stripped us; the Dwarves are in their undergarment oneseis and I am just in my singlet and trousers. It's highly embarrassing. I'm practically naked in front of all of these Dwarves.

The Dwarves are struggling and grumbling, trying futilely to release themselves from their potato-sack prisons. "Never mid about the seasoning." William shouts. "We ain't got all night. Dawn ain't far away. Let's get a move on. I don't fancy being turned to stone."

"Wait!" A frightened voice yells. Bilbo? He catches the attention of the Trolls. Is he doing what I think he's doing? "You are making a terrible mistake!" Bilbo exclaims, sounding more confident. Yep, he's buying time. He heard the Troll's weakness. Smart little Hobbit.

"You can't reason with them. They're half-wits!" Dori shouts hopelessly. Bilbo begins struggling to get up in his sack, facing the Trolls.

"Half-wits? What does that make us?" Bofur retorts.

"I meant with the - uh - with the seasoning." Bilbo stammers, sounding unsure. This Hobbit is treading on thin ice here. He could anger the Dwarves if he says the wrong thing. I think I'll help him.

"What about the seasoning?" Bert the cooking Troll asks in irritation, as if daring the Hobbit to question his cooking methods.

"Well, have you smelt them?" Bilbo says sassily. "You're gonna need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up."

"Traitor!" Thorin growls, while I suppress a giggle. He glares at me, but I ignore him.