Catching up to the dwarves, Bilbo and I hid behind a tree. Fili and Kili had ducked down behind a nearby rock. We observed a massive troll stomp past us, carrying one pony under each arm. "He's got Myrtle and Minty now!" Bilbo gasped. "I think they're going to eat them. We have to do something."
Kili turned to him, his eyes revealing the presence of an idea in his head. "Yes, you should!" He hopped over to Bilbo's side and ushered him forward. "Mountain trolls are slow and stupid, and you're so small. They'll never see you."
"Me?" Bilbo yelped. "N-No!"
"It's perfectly safe. We'll be right behind you."
"I will not—"
"If you run into trouble, hoot twice like a barn owl, once like a brown owl," Kili instructed.
They pushed Bilbo towards the fire before he could say anything else. I stayed back to keep an eye on the hobbit. "Are you sure this is safe?" I asked. "I mean..." Turning, there was no sign of the dwarf brothers. "Bloody hell."
Bilbo couldn't see any sign of the brothers either, so he panicked. "Where'd they go?!"
I waved a hand at him. "Just go try to free the ponies. I'll watch from a distance."
He was beyond nervous. "Are you sure this is a good idea? Maybe you should come, too."
"I'm too tall. They'll see me no doubt. Just go."
He reluctantly inched towards the trolls.
I kept an eye on him from under the cover of the trees, carefully stepping closer to the fire-the one surrounded by the repulsive creatures.
Two trolls sat around the fire on which a cauldron of something was bubbling. One wore a dirty vest and the other wore an apron, presumably the cook. A third troll, the one carrying the ponies, dropped his catch into a pen with two other ponies-Daisy and Bongo! Then he roared, "Roast mutton yesterday, roast mutton today, and blimey, Bert, if it don't look like roast mutton again tomorrow!"
The cook sounded very annoyed. "Quit yer' griping, Tom! We're 'aving sheep!"
"Well, these ain't sheep. These is West Nags!"
The troll with the vest made a face of disgust. "Oh, I don't like 'orse. I never 'ave. Not enough fat on 'em."
"Well, better than that leathery old farmer. All skin and bone 'e was. I'm still picking bits of 'im out of me teeth." The troll with the vest suddenly sneezed into the pot boiling over the fire. "Oh, that's lovely, that is, William. A floater!"
"Oh, might improve the flavor," Tom said.
"Ah! There's more where that came from!" William cheered.
William began to sneeze more, but Bert grabbed him by the nose, giving the unseen Bilbo a chance to get behind them. "Oh no, you don't!"
"Ow! Ow! Ow!" whined the sickly troll.
"Sit down!" Bert threw his companion to the ground.
After doing as told, William sneezed again, this time into a handkerchief. He sniffed for a long time.
Bilbo, who had by now reached the pen in which the ponies were held, attempted to untie the ropes. He paused to hide as William turned towards him. "I 'ope you're going to gut these nags. I don't like the stinky parts."
Bert hit William with his ladle, making him squeal. "I said sit down!" Bert yelled.
I stifled a laugh.
"I'm starving!" Tom complained. "Are we 'aving 'orse tonight or what?"
"Shut your cakehole. You'll eat what I give ya'!"
At one point, William pulled out his handkerchief again, where I spotted a long knife fastened to his thin belt. I crept around the outskirts of the trolls' camp. Close enough to Bilbo, I hooted like an owl to get his attention. He looked at me, where I pointed at the blade. Unable to untie the ropes restraining the ponies, Bilbo went for the bladed weapon.
" 'ow come 'e's the cook?" Tom asked. "Everything tastes the same, like chicken."
"Except the chicken," William laughed.
"That tastes like fish!"
"I'm just saying a little appreciation would be nice. 'Thank you very much, Bert,' 'Lovely stew, Bert'. 'ow 'ard is that?" Bert said. I watched Bilbo slowly sneak past the horses, trying his best to keep them from whinnying, especially his own pony, Myrtle. "Hmm, it just needs a sprinkle of squirrel dung. Ah, there." William picked up a mug of drink, but Bert got mad at him. "That's my grog!"
"Sorry." William placed the mug back down.
Bert hit the troll with his ladle again, knocking him down. He then scooped up some stew in his ladle and slurped it up. "Ooh, that is beautifully balanced, that is." He let William taste the soup, who gulped it down. "Wrap your 'ead around that, mate. Eh? Good, innit? 'eh, 'eh, 'eh. That's why I'm the cook."
Bilbo got behind William and tried to reach for the knife, but the troll stood up to scratch his bottom. I looked away, trying not to laugh at Bilbo's face.
"Me guts are grumbling, I've got to snaffle something. Flesh I need, flesh!" Tom stood up angrily and stepped over to the ponies.
I almost shrieked when William, who was about to sneeze, reached for his handkerchief and accidently grabbed Bilbo instead, blowing his nose on him without looking. He quickly realized he wasn't holding any ordinary booger.
My nose wrinkled at the sight of our burglar covered in slime, wriggling in the troll's grip.
"Blimey! Bert! Bert!" William yelled. "Look what's come out of me 'ooter! It's got arms and legs and everything!"
The other trolls gathered around to get a closer look. "What is it?" Tom asked.
"I don't know, but I don't like the way it wiggles around!" He shook Bilbo onto the ground.
Bilbo quickly stood up as the three trolls surrounded him, with Tom pointing a sharpened tree trunk at him. "What are you then? An oversized squibble?"
"I'm a bur—a hobbit!" Bilbo replied, shaking all over, and wondering how to make owl noises.
"A burra'obbit?" William repeated.
"Can we cook 'im?" Tom said.
"We can try." William swiped at Bilbo, but he dodged, only to be cornered by Bert.
My hand itched to grab my sword.
" 'e wouldn't be more than a mouthful, not when 'e's skinned and boned!" Bert yelled.
"Perhaps there's more burra'obbits in these parts. Might be enough for a pie," Tom suggested.
"Grab 'im!" The trolls all lunged for Bilbo, and missed.
My feet ached to move and rescue the hobbit.
"It's too quick!" William screamed. Bert hit William with his ladle while trying to hit Bilbo.
Eventually, Bilbo got caught by the legs. Now, he was hoisted into the air, dangling upside down between the three trolls. "Gotcha! Are there any more of you little fellas 'iding where you shouldn't?" Tom asked.
"Nope!" Bilbo replied.
" 'e's lying," William hissed.
"No, I'm not!"
" 'old 'is toes over the fire. Make 'im squeal!"
I leapt out of the bushes and slashed William's leg, making him howl in pain. Now having captured their undivided attention, I cockily twirled my sword and bared my teeth. "Drop him!"
"You what?" Tom replied.
"I said...drop him!"
Tom threw Bilbo at me.
Letting my weapon drop to the ground, I jumped and caught the hobbit. The impact from the throw sent us both into the dirt.
With a sudden mighty roar, thirteen dwarves charged out of the bushes brandishing their weapons. Led by Thorin, they began fighting the trolls, hacking, slashing, and hammering their legs and toes.
I helped Bilbo to his feet. "You alright?"
"I'll be...alright," he shakily replied.
"Then go free the ponies."
"What will you do?"
I grinned. "What I do best."
He ran off to do his job, and I did mine.
The first thing I saw was chaos. Hacking, slashing, stomping, roaring. The dwarves looked like mice compared to the three trolls measuring at least five times their height. I had to pick a spot and jump into the fight somehow.
My chance came when William reached out to Bofur.
I leapt forward and swung my sword, slicing his palm. Bofur then smashed the troll's toes with his hammer.
Bert came at me from behind with his soup spoon. I jumped over a sideways swing, and then poked his eye out. When I returned to the ground, I slashed both of his kneecaps to knock him off balance and cut off a finger, relieving him of his weapon.
Angry over his injured hand, William charged at me like an enraged oliphaunt. I slid along the ground, passing underneath his legs, and then stabbed him in the side as he turned around.
One troll swung his fists down like a mighty gorilla. Myself and two dwarves dove out of the way.
Nori suddenly got picked up.
Using his slingshot, Ori shot a pebble into the troll's eye. Then, in retaliation, Ori got picked up.
I called the closest available dwarf. "Gloin, give me a boost!"
He did a roll that brought him down on all fours. I sprung off his back, jumped into the air, and slashed the troll's arm before Ori could be crushed. I caught the dwarf before he could hit the ground and stuck the landing.
Suddenly, the same troll went after Gloin.
Switching to my hammer, I jumped in front of Gloin and swung, smashing the troll's face.
Abruptly, a dwarf crashed against my side.
It was Thorin.
Of course, it was Thorin!!
"Please tell me you're capable of fighting three trolls without losing your balance!" I grumbled, making sure he could return to his feet safely.
"As long as you don't get in my way!" He thrust his sword past me to stab Bert.
I swung my hammer to knock Bert's feet out from under him, glancing back. "You jumped into me!"
Tom suddenly came at the dwarf with an axe! Where'd that weapon come from?!
"Get back!" I jumped over the dwarf's head, rolled, and lifted my hammer up above my head, bracing for impact. The mighty axe landed within inches of my head, the brief clash of metal making my ears ring. What I lacked in size I made up for with ferocity, able to push against Tom's strength long enough for Thorin to come in and stab Tom in his gut.
While Tom stumbled backward in pain, Thorin looked back—with the corner of his mouth turning upward. "Concerned about me?"
I instantly spat, "Oh, sod off, dwarf! It's my—" I paused to jump sideways when William thrust his sword in my direction; my hammer knocked it out of his grasp, and a second swing sent him backward. "—job. Company guard, remember?!"
Not replying at all, Thorin went at Tom for a second time.
Sensing another troll, I spun and beat my hammer into Bert's gut. While reeling in pain, Dori kicked him in his groin—Ouch!!—and Dwalin then sent his hammer straight into the troll's face, knocking out all his teeth. Not quite surrendering, the troll lashed out. I pushed the dwarf behind me before deflecting the troll's large spoon.
Recovered from his injuries, Tom brought a sword down into a vertical slice. I raised my weapon to deflect the hit, knocking the troll off balance. Then Thorin came from the side and stabbed the troll.
Noticing his rather defensive act, I gave him a look. "So, what's your excuse?"
"I was trying to kill it," he grunted.
Bert suddenly charged—at both of us.
Together, we fought him off. I deflected the weapon while Thorin attacked.
Being the one with the best height, I repeated this maneuver with several of my companions. I would deflect attacks from swords, axes, and soup spoons while the dwarves hacked away at the trolls' feet and legs.
It worked for a while, until the fight ended when I found the trolls holding Bilbo by his limbs.
"Bilbo!" I yelled, starting forward.
"No, Rose!" Fili and Kili grabbed my arms to keep me back.
"Lay down your arms, or we'll rip his off!" Tom threatened.
Bilbo stared at us, fearing for his life.
No hesitation, I threw my sword and hammer to the ground.
To my surprise, Thorin did the same. Soon all the dwarves were unarmed.
Unarmed, and no longer dangerous.
The trolls secured several dwarves to a spit sitting over their fire, tying the rest and Bilbo in foul-smelling sacks with thick ropes. All our weapons got tossed in a heap on the other side of the camp, clear out of our reach; even the daggers I stuffed away in my boots got confiscated.
Not small enough to fit in a sack, the trolls instead locked a chain collar around my neck and wrist cuffs to keep my arms close together. A separate chain was put around my ankle; the end got placed underneath a massive boulder the trolls lifted with ease. I tried everything possible to break the chains.
The dwarves all made noises and timidly shouted, trying to escape their impending doom.
"Don't bother cooking 'em. Let's just sit on 'em and squash 'em into jelly," William suggested.
"They should be sautéed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage," Bert said.
"Ooh, that does sound quite nice."
"What do we do with 'er?" Tom asked, approaching me. "She could make a nice dessert."
I thrashed against the chains. "Come any closer and I'll break your finger off!"
"Don't be like that. Show us a bit of skin, why don't ya?" He poked at my breasts, making my blood boil. Using the tiny reach I had, I grabbed the tip of his finger and pulled it straight up while jumping down on a joint.
Everyone heard a snap.
The troll roared in pain. "Blimey! The bitch snapped my finger!"
"I warned you!" However, the wind was suddenly knocked out of me when a huge hand swung forward and sent me flying into the boulder. I collapsed beside the pile of sacked dwarves, my head pounding.
"We'll just 'ave fun with 'er later." Tom went to help Bert cook the dwarves already on the spit.
Bilbo wriggled to my side. "Are you alright?"
I struggled to even keep my eyes open. "I think...so."
"You should've stayed quiet," Thorin hissed from nearby.
"What, like you? I think you're confusing staying quiet with doing nothing!" I madly thrashed against my chains, looking for a way to free myself. The trolls were smart enough to clear away any rocks big enough to break me free. Still, I struggled and struggled, even driving the heel of my boot into the chains. My efforts were in vain.
Bilbo suddenly jolted up on his feet and yelled, "Wait! You are making a terrible mistake!"
The three trolls stopped whatever they did and looked at the hobbit.
"You can't reason with them! They're half-wits!" Dori screamed.
"Half-wits? What does that make us?" Bofur asked.
Bilbo faced the trolls like a standing caterpillar. "Uh, I meant, uh, with the seasoning!" Bilbo said.
"What about the seasoning?" Bert asked, leaning towards him.
After a moment, Bilbo nodded towards the dwarves. "Have you smelt them? You're going to need something stronger than sage before you can plate this lot up."
The dwarves all started yelling and calling Bilbo a traitor.
"What do you know about cooking, dwarf?" Tom snapped.
Bert nearly slapped him. "Shut up and let the burra'obbit talk."
"The secret to cooking dwarf is to..." Bilbo took his time responding.
"Yes? Come on," Bert impatiently said.
"It's, uh..."
"Tell us the secret!"
"Yes, yes! I'm going to tell you! The secret is..." Bilbo felt the intense stares all around him, "...to skin them first!"
The dwarves all burst into an angry fit, shouting all sorts of threats and names.
Bert turned to his companions. "Tom, get me filleting knife."
"What a load of rubbish that is! I've eaten plenty with their skins on. Scuff them, I say, boots and all!" Tom laughed.
I looked off to the side and saw a pointy hat slip behind some trees. Bilbo's stalling?!
"He's right! Nothing wrong with a bit of raw dwarf. Nice and crunchy!" William said. He picked up a sacked Bombur and dangled him upside down over his mouth.
"NO! Not that one! He-he's infected!" I screamed, springing to my feet.
"You what?" Tom asked.
I realized my lips had spoken for me, but I continued anyway. "Yeah, he's got...worms...in his...tubes!"
Eyes wide, William shrieked and dropped the dwarf back onto the pile of dwarves, making them all groan in pain.
"In fact, they all have. They're just infested with tons of parasites. It's a terrible business. I wouldn't risk it. I really wouldn't!"
The dwarves were all very furious with me.
"Parasites?!" yelled one dwarf.
"Did she say parasites?"
"We don't have parasites!"
I cursed them all for not playing along, my head slumping forward. "Stupid dwarves..."
Suddenly, there was a loud shuffle from behind me, as though someone got hit.
Then, a dwarf shouted: "I've got parasites as big as my arm!"
"Mine are the biggest parasites! I've got huge parasites!" yelled another.
"We're infected!" said a third.
"Yes, we are! Badly!" said a fourth.
Soon everyone joined in with my lie. I was curious as to how they came around so suddenly.
"What would you 'ave us do then? Let them all go?" Tom asked.
Not thinking that I'd get that far, I shrugged. "Well..."
Bert poked me with his ladle. "You think I don't know what you're up to? This little ferret is taking us for fools!"
"Ferret?!" I repeated.
"Fools?" William said.
"The dawn will take you all!" Gandalf appeared on a large rock above the clearing.
"Who's that?"
"No idea."
"Can we eat 'im too?"
Gandalf struck the rock with his staff, splitting it in half, allowing the sunlight behind it to pour out. When the sunlight touched the trolls' skin, they began turning to stone amidst loud screams and howls of pain.
Within seconds, there were three stone statues of trolls in the clearing, and we all cheered for the arrival of our hero.
"Back so soon," I smirked, watching him approach.
"Of course, milady." Gandalf tapped the chains keeping me bound, turning them to ash in the blink of an eye. Laying a hand upon my neck, I could feel my skin once again, free and warm. Gandalf eyed my face. "What did they do to you?"
I lifted a hand to my forehead, discovering dry blood and a cut. "Oh, it's nothing. I'm fine now."
Gandalf went to cut down the dwarves from the spit, while I freed the others lying in sacks. I released Bilbo first, who was the most grateful. "I think that went well," I smirked.
"That was good thinking on your part," Bilbo said.
"You had the good idea first." Then, I insisted he find a way to get all that slime off his clothes.
Next, I helped Balin, Bombur, Gloin, and Oin.
When I got to Thorin, he glared at me and turned away. "I don't need your help."
"Fine, suit yourself," I shrugged.
Before I could walk away, I heard a sigh. "Wait!" He was frowning, in defeat.
"That's more like it." I knelt and cut through the ropes holding the sack tightly around him. "If you could've gotten out by yourself, you would've already done it. And then I wouldn't have received a blow to the face from the hand of that troll." I loosened the sack enough for Thorin to finish the rest. He looked close to saying something, but before he could, I walked away.
I freed Thorin's nephews from their sacks, and after hitting them both over the head for what they caused, I retrieved my weapons.
Noticing Gandalf eyeing the stone trolls, I approached him. "Those will be here for quite some time," he laughed before turning towards me. He cupped my cheek in his hand, examining the cut above my eye. "You sure you'll be alright. It's a decent mark."
Turning, my gaze drifted to the stone version of the troll that injured me. I took out my sword and swung it hard, slicing off the same hand that knocked me into the rock. It fell to the ground with a loud bang. "I got my revenge, so everything's fine now." I sheathed my sword and gazed back at the wizard with a smirk. "That's just what happens when someone lays a hand on me."
He chuckled. "Indeed."
The second he was freed from the spit, Bofur ran over and grabbed my hands. "Lass, are you alright? I saw how hard you hit your head!"
His genuine concern made my heart feel warm. "I'm alright. Thank you."
"The way you got up after being thrown into that rock was amazing!" Fili shouted. "And you cut off that stone hand with just a single swing."
The attention made my cheeks burn, alongside the warmth of the sun that saved us all from becoming breakfast.
While the rest of the dwarves collected their things, I stepped over to Gandalf and Thorin talking near the statues. "Where did you go if I may ask?" Thorin said to the wizard.
"To look ahead," Gandalf replied.
"What brought you back?"
"Looking behind. Nasty business. Still though, you're all in one piece."
"No thanks to your burglar."
Gandalf gave him a sharp, admonishing look. "He had the nous to play for time. None of the rest of you thought of that."
Thorin gave a look of repentance.
I looked at the troll statues. "They must have come down from the Ettenmoors," I said.
"Since when do mountain trolls venture this far south?" Thorin asked.
"Oh, not for an age, not since a darker power ruled these lands," Gandalf replied.
Thinking hard, my head swiveled back and forth, focusing on the dirt and leaves scattered around the trolls' feet. "They could not have moved in daylight," I said before following gigantic footprints.
"Where are you going?" Thorin barked.
I replied without turning: "There has to be a cave nearby."
The trolls' stony feet made a trail going into the trees, so I followed it. The tracks went up a short hill. Not too far away, hidden by bushes and a rocky overhang, I discovered a big hole leading down into a cave.
"See?" I said to Gandalf and Thorin as they caught up to me.
"Your tracking skills never cease to amaze me, Rose," Gandalf commended.
I felt the praise was a bit much, but I still grinned. "It's what I do best."
The dwarf caught my tone, not liking it one bit.
Thorin went in first with a torch, followed by me, Gandalf, and a handful of the dwarves.
There were bones on the floor, and a nasty smell was in the air; everyone coughed and retched at the sudden pungency. "What's that stench?" Nori asked.
"It's a troll hoard. Be careful what you touch," Gandalf replied.
There was a good deal of food jumbled carelessly on shelves and on the ground, among an untidy litter of plunder, of all sorts from brass buttons to pots full of gold coins standing in a corner; several more pots had been knocked over, leaving piles of gold scattered all about the ground. There were lots of clothes, too, hanging on the walls-too small for trolls, I was afraid they belonged to victims.
Amongst the clothes, I found a dress. The discovery rocked me to my core considering my own experience with the trolls moments earlier, not given the courtesy of a sack. Women were trolls' favorite dish, something of a delicacy to be squabbled over. They would have argued over me and eventually eaten me raw, if they hadn't used me for sport first. The thought of another woman meeting that fate sickened me to my stomach.
Needing something to make me feel better, I pocketed some of the coins lying on the ground, just enough to fill my pockets.
I was startled by a grunt and a snicker, and found a pair of dwarf boots beside me. Thorin stood there with a strange thin line on his face, jerking a little upward at the side. He laughed. "You're nothing more than a thief scrambling to pocket as much coin as you can."
Not in the mood for his foulness, I glared. "You can't steal what has no owner. And besides..." I gestured over to Nori, Gloin, and Bofur digging a hole to bury chests of gold. "Consult your own kind before judging me for the same act." I stomped away.
Far to the back of the cave, among the waste and ruin, I found several swords covered in cobwebs and dust. Being well versed in the art of crafting weapons, I recognized fine craftsmanship when I saw it.
Two caught my eyes particularly, because of their beautiful scabbards and jeweled hilts. "These swords were not made by any troll."
Gandalf approached me and examined both weapons. "Nor were they made by any smith among men. Here." He passed the longer, double-edged sword to me, and the single-edged one to Thorin. I gave the wizard a look, and he told me that he'd have no use for a weapon that fancy when he mainly used his staff. "I can always find another sword."
If you say so...
The sword's shape and weight was ideal for my style of fighting. I wore the smallest grin on my face as I turned the sword to examine the hand-and-a-half hilt.
Pulling the sword from its scabbard, I examined the steel of the blade with a critical eye, finding it to be flawless. The metal shone brightly even after many years lying in the troll hoard, its edge still keen and sharp. Runes were inlaid on the metal, and I recognized the words.
"These blades were forged in Gondolin, for the High Elves of the First Age!" I gasped.
Thorin quickly tried to put back his blade, but was stopped by Gandalf's stern voice. "You cannot wish for a finer blade!"
The dwarf reluctantly held onto the sword, drawing it out a few inches to look at the blade. The scabbard was dusty, but appeared to be made from a mixture of pale wood and steel. The hilt was some kind of tooth or bone, a sturdy anchor for the weight of the blade. Four tiny diamonds were embedded into the pommel, and runes curved down its length.
I turned the weapon in my hands and gave a few test swings. "This is far better than my current sword." It never ceased to amaze me how elves wrought their iron into such fine blades remaining untouched by time and refusing to notch in battle.
"Let's get out of this foul place!" Thorin yelled before heading out with Dwalin. "Come on, let's go. Bofur! Gloin! Nori!" The dwarves finished burying two more chests of gold in the dirt and hurried outside.
I hooked my new sword to my belt, grabbing an ornate bow. Feeling the new weapons would suit me nicely, I left my old ones in the dirty weapon rack. On my way outside, I stepped on something hard and metallic. Brushing aside leaves beneath my foot, I found another sword, much smaller than most, and took it.