Red (The Hobbit Fan Fiction)

10. A Sticky Situation

            “You can’t reason with them,” said a Dwarf on the spit. “They’re half-wits!”

            “Half-wits?” Bofur said, who was also on the spit. “What does that make us?”

            Bilbo was now standing in his sack, hopping like a bunny towards the trio of Trolls. My heart hammered anxiously, hoping whatever Bilbo’s idea was pulled through. This was a dire situation of life and death, we couldn’t afford mistakes.

            “I meant with the seasoning,” Bilbo went on, ignoring the Dwarves’ complaints.

            “What about the seasoning?” said Bert.

            “Well, have you smelt them? You’re going to need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up.”

            “What do you know about cooking Dwarf?” Complainer quizzed.

            “Shut up,” Bert demanded. “Let the flurgaburburhobbit talk.”

            “The secret to cooking Dwarf is…” I could tell Bilbo hadn’t thought up a “secret” on the fly.

            “Yes? Come on. Tell us the secret.”

            “Yes, I’m telling you. The secret is…”

            “To skin them first!” I blurted out. Immediately I knew I had angry Dwarf eyes locked on me. At Bilbo’s rate, he still would have been standing there, thinking, making the Trolls even more impatient than they already were.

            “Yes, yes, that was it!” Bilbo piped. “You’ve got to skin them first.”

            “Tom, get me filleting knife,” Bert said, a hungry look in his eyes.

            The Dwarves, naturally, went into an uproar. I didn’t meet any of their looks.

            “What a load of rubbish,” Complainer snarled. I blanched. “I’ve eaten plenty with their skins on. Scarf them, I say, boots and all.”

            I shuddered, trying not to get a mental image. I didn’t want that to be my fate. I didn’t want to be put in stew or eaten alive. I didn’t want to die in general.

            “He’s right,” Sneezy—Tom—realized. He lumbered over towards the collection of Dwarves and me. “Nothing wrong with a bit of raw Dwarf.” I watched with owl eyes as Tom scooped up Bombur, held him upside down above his massive head. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see what happened next.

            “Oh, not that one,” Bilbo panicked. “He’s infected.”

            “Huh?”

            “You what?” Complainer asked in disbelief.

            “Yeah, he’s got worms in his…tubes,” Bilbo said.

            “Eww!” Tom squealed. He dropped Bombur as if the Dwarf had stung him.

            “In fact,” I piped up, “they all have. They’re infested with parasites. It’s a terrible business. I wouldn’t risk it. I really wouldn’t.”

            “Parasites?” roared a Dwarf. “Did she say “parasites”?”

            “We don’t have parasites,” Kili protested loudly. “You have parasites.”