For nearly a half hour, the Company had faithfully been following the stone path winding through the forest, with very little conversation- or words in general outside of the occasional direction of where the path turned. So over that course of time, Tanya had wandered next to Thorin and suddenly stated, "You're nearsighted."
There was no question or plea for confirmation. She just said it plainly as any conversation starter.
"What?" Thorin asked, looking beside him.
Tanya rolled her eyes and tilted her head back. "Must I repeat myself? You're nearsighted."
He gave her a half squint and wondered, "How would you know that?" It wasn't like he was waving a giant flag or constantly asking for his old man spectacles.
"The way your eyes look around." Tanya explained. "I can tell just by seeing them."
Keep in mind, only Bilbo and you even know that Tanya isn't actually Tanya (more on that later), so Thorin was not at all suspicious of her walking up to him and beginning a conversation when their last conversation had ended with their mutual agreement to be friends.
Not that Thorin was ever one for small talk, but he at least made an effort when he asked, "How come you didn't say before?"
And Tanya responded with, "Have we been this close before?"
To any normal conversation that might sound like playful banter, but I think you and I know that fake Tanya was genuinely asking.
But Thorin simply smiled while reminiscing, and said, "Well there was the night I hit you, and you scarred my face." He chuckled.
"Well, it was at night." Tanya shrugged.
And Thorin nodded. "Perhaps." He agreed.
"You should thank me." Tanya added, very confidently. "The scar actually looks very becoming."
Suddenly she stretched her arm out to stop him, as he failed to notice the sharp turn the path had just taken, aiding him before he stepped off it.
"The path goes this way." She pointed with a nod of her head. It was a sort of apology for distracting him in the first place. It wasn't like she was just going to let him wander the forest aimlessly!
They walked in silence for about half a minute before she added, "I understand that eyeglasses are more of a liability for a fighter-"
"Yes, I know." Thorin interjected. While she couldn't tell if he was just interrupting, or actually disinterested, she continued anyway. "But don't you think that it may become more of a liability to not see correctly?" She asked.
It took Thorin a while to answer, but he finally huffed and spit out, "It already has." with a grumbling tone of annoyance.
"How so?" She prodded.
It took Thorin another long while to answer, but eventually explained. "The battle of Moria, when I fought Azog, I cut off his arm, when I was actually aiming for his face." He admitted, sounding both embarrassed and agitated.
Tanya took a moment to comprehend all of what he said, then finally admitted, "That's pretty bad aim."
Thorin stared ahead, electing not to look at her with what he said next. "If I had calculated better, much would be different today. You wouldn't have been taken." He mumbled out the last bit.
Tanya immediately turned to him, eyes wide in shock; not that he was looking, then turned and quietly muttered to herself, "Right. I wouldn't have."
It was as good of an apology as he was trying to form, but he silently cursed himself from bringing it up at all.
Tanya picked up on that immediately, but what did she care? She was finally free.
Hoping to dig himself out of the metaphorical hole he kept on digging, he steered the conversation back to its original topic. "You know, there's more."
Tanya turned to him with amused eyes. "Really?" She asked.
Thorin nodded. "Well you recall the night we all gathered at mister Baggins's house?" He asked.
Immediately, Tanya replied, "Yes."
"Well that was the reason I lost my way twice." He admitted.
"And you didn't bother asking for directions?" She wondered.
He didn't respond to that, with too much pride than to answer, but instead added, "And just a few days ago, I asked mister Baggins to judge the distance of something in the Eerie, he said it couldn't have been more than twelve yards, but it honestly looked thirty to me." He said honestly.
Tanya took a moment to consider him while she ducked under a low hanging branch, then pointed out the obvious. "You should really do something about your eyes."
"I am not blind." He groaned. "My eyes just don't see as well as they did a hundred years ago."
Bilbo had been near the back of the line, carefully watching The Imposter throughout their whole exchange with Thorin.
This imposter- flouncing around in a façade, trying to fool everyone; it gave Bilbo the bad kind of butterflies.
Even since Gandalf had insisted that the creature with them was in fact not his Tanya, he had been feeling a heavy weight in his stomach since. So many questions had flooded in his mind.
Who was this Imposter?Where did It come from?Why did they look like Tanya?How dangerous were they?
He remembered back in Beorn's barn, when he was sure was the first time seeing this creature; out of their mind and in some animalistic berserker state. It then begged a new question, Why did Gandalf use a spell to bring their mind back? Had he known the whole time?
Bilbo inadvertently shivered as he remembered the feral, foggy, nothingness eyes It had when he first saw it; back when he thought It was his Tanya, tortured into insanity.
And following that thought brought him back to the most important question- the first question, and the most constant ringing question; Where was Tanya now?
He had surmised that she must still be with those monsters that took her. Furthermore, he deduced that those same monsters were somehow responsible for the Imposter with the Company now.
But that just begged more questions.
What was this Imposter planning?Were the Orcs following and keeping tabs on them by tracking It?Had they anticipated Gandalf curing Its insanity?
Thinking further back, He remembered Beorn saying he had to chain It up to keep everyone else safe. If he remembered correctly, his exact words were, "Those shackles are the only thing keeping everyone here alive."
But then Gandalf did what he did, and brought the creature's mind back.
And then he told Bilbo of the creature's false identity after a whole day of waiting, while Bilbo was caught up in the Bliss of finally having her back.
Gandalf had told him to be wary around the creature, but to not let on that they knew who It was not. Therefore, they had the upper hand, and were One up on whoever It was- and whatever they were planning.
Gandalf had given him a job, to spy on the creature, and while he was appalled at the general idea of spying or double crossing, he of all people was desperate to know what was really going on.
The few paces ahead of him, he suddenly saw the Imposter crane their head back and called out to the whole group, "Who has any hard alcohol on them?"
After a few moments, Dori proudly held up a waterskin canteen over his head. "I have this pouch of ale from Beorn."
The Imposter held their hand out expectantly. "Pass it over then." It told him.
Ori, beside him asked, "Didn't we just start walking?"
Because usually my kitties, you save the hard stuff until you're cold, when your feet hurt, or when the kids are making so much NOISE in the backseat- that alcohol is all you can do to stop yourself from screaming at the little monsters yourself!
But the creature did not seem to care one bit about proper drinking decorum. "I'm sorry, I thought I said pass the ale, not pass the judgement."
And within a few seconds the pouch had been passed on to the Imposter, and It had been chugging the drink down like it was the Russian Revolution and the doctor was coming to saw their leg off.
Oh, so a double agent and an alcoholic, Bilbo regarded. The plot thickens.
"Oh my word, this stuff is so good." Tanya practically melted as she sipped from the water skin full of fermented grass. "And so much better than the tar paste I used to drink in prison."
Thorin had part of a mind to ask for a sip, just to see what all the fuss was about, and you know how much Dwarves love them some Ale, but at the mention of "prison," he decided that Tanya really needed it more than him.
No, he could have settled for salted pork.
"Tar paste?" He asked, wondering exactly what kind of Spirits she had put in her system.
Tanya wrinkled her nose as she took another sip. "Awful stuff." She shook her head in disgust. "4.2 out of ten."
At that, Thorin laughed. "That's a very specific score."
She shrugged as she took another swig. "It's the most insulting score I can think of." she explained as she made another crinkled face of distaste.
"Wouldn't a zero or a one be worse?"
"No," she said emphatically. "That would imply that it was so bad, it was memorably bad." She shook her head with the slightest of smiles. "No, if I wanted a One, I'd just bite right into an Orc's leg."
And then after, she took a looong drink, until it was dribbling down her neck, and Thorin decided to step in.
"Tanya, I think you should slow down a bit. If you pass out, we would have to drag you the rest of the way." He moved to carefully take the pouch from her before she could make an issue about it.
As it turned out, she had some semblance of reason and let him take the power liquid without a struggle. "Fine, but I will get it back later."
~
They didn't stop to rest until it became too dark to see the path, and they set up camp to rest for the night.
Bilbo walked around collecting broken branches for firewood- trying to be helpful, but he was sort of half-watching the Imposter who was sitting away from the group, against a twisty tree trunk, taking deep breaths.
After he piled his sticks, he cautiously ventured over to It. And as he got closer, he clearly saw it take a swig from an obvious wineskin pouch that he was sure had been confiscated hours ago.
"You know drinking that much that soon is bad for you."
It glanced up at him, then scoffed and threw their head back as it took another drink. "I need some liquid courage." They rolled their eyes.
"A whole day of socializing leaves my brain melted in a way that's only fixed with Amber." It set the pouch in their lap before patting the ground beside them. "Here, sit with me for a bit. Haven't seen you all day."
And for a moment, Bilbo actually forgot that it wasn't really Tanya asking him.
No, scratch that- for an actual moment, he was okay with pretending that it was her. After resenting this person all day, he allowed himself to see how open and honest she actually looked.
She looked like someone who just wanted his company.
And it didn't help that he had seen that exact same expression a hundred times before.
As he sunk down next to her- with reasonable space between them, he allowed himself a moment to pretend.
Until he saw It nursing the drink again.
"Aren't you drunk enough already?" He inquired, with a tone almost skirting hostility. Despite everything, seeing some creature drinking its life away, aching with hangovers and sleeping in their own vomit was not the way he wanted to pass the time.
Perhaps when It was sleeping, he would take any alcohol he could find, and pour it all out in the woods.
He didn't even notice how quiet they had become until It finally used its gravely, inebriated voice to say, "I'm hoping I die of alcohol poisoning. All things considered, it's not the worst way to go."
And suddenly, he had absolutely nothing to say. With his mouth going dry, all words were suddenly impossible to form.
With his mind trying to process anything, he felt his body turning to face her.
But she didn't look at him. As if immune to the gravity that tethered him, she simply stared with a blank expression at the contaminated forest.
"You know," she murmured, "When I was little, I wasn't allowed to put sugar in my tea."
He couldn't piece together why she would reveal some inconsequential fact like that, but he allowed himself to ask her, "Why?"
Huffing a breath, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Because my mother told me that 'when you go to prison they don't let you have sugar, so it will make prison that much harder.'"
For some reason, he wanted to give her some comfort. Reach for her hand or give her a hug, but he held back. "Well that's... horrible." Was all he was able to choke out.
But the inebriated creature beside him just turned with skeptical, inquisitive eyes. "Is it though?" It wondered. "You know all the time I spent in prison, and that's all I can think about. You'd think I might remember something important, but that all my mind comes back to. I try to think about something else, but... got lost."
Bilbo let himself settle against the rough tree trunk supporting his back, while he pondered the plethora of responses he could offer.
Swallowing an aching lump in his throat, he settled on, "Your mother sounds like a real piece of work." He attempted to say with a light tone.
Maybe if he could at least get this creature to stop being sad, he could get himself to feel less sympathy towards it.
But It huffed a snarky laugh and muttered, "It's not like her attitude wasn't earned."
Bilbo allowed himself to get a real good look at the person beside him. Not the face they were wearing, but the turbulent waves of emotional wreckage they were showing. Something he didn't consider seeing from an imposter who had stolen his Tanya, and lied through the Company- was a shiny tear trail.
"I'm sure that isn't true." He reached out a hand on her shoulder as an attempt of comfort.
But the Imposter leaned out of his reach and grabbed for the wineskin. "What do you take me for;" She uttered. "A good person?"