It’s all well and good until the ponies get taken, you’re sent out to find them, and end up being captured with your friends by a bunch of trolls. Just ruins the week, doesn’t it? That’s exactly the situation my Hobbit OC Nerissa finds herself in. Right now, she and her friends, the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, are tied up on the ground and about to become a troll dinner. Read on to find out what happens!
The fire blazed brightly beside us. Two long pieces of wood shaped liked “y”s flanked either side of it, and a huge log was laid across them, creating a spit. And on that spit were five of my friends, being roasted by three hungry trolls. The rest of us were tied up in sacks on the ground. Though it was hardly the time to be worrying about such things, I couldn’t help but notice the sacks smelled worse than the trolls. I was doing my best to breathe through my mouth. When I said I wanted an adventure, I didn’t imagine I’d be tied up on the ground about to be eaten.
“Don’t bother cooking them. Let’s just sit on them and squash them into jelly,” the troll called Bill said.
“They should be sautéed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage,” countered Bert.
My stomach, already sick from fear and the foul smelling sacks, rebelled at the thought of the dwarves being eaten. I rolled over on my side in time to vomit into the dirt. I lay there for a moment, weak and dizzy, and then felt a kick in my back. I lifted my head and turned towards the direction the kick had come from.
It was Thorin. The trolls had thrown me next to him when we were piled up. “See if you can get the weapons,” he hissed to me. I nodded my head to let him know I’d heard.
I twisted around, looking for where the weapons had been piled. At my feet were Bilbo and Balin, and then just slightly beyond them lay the weapons. I tried wriggling my shoulders, attempting to loosen the bag and make space to bring my hands up. I had just managed to work my one shoulder free when I froze, seeing the troll turn his eyes back to his prisoners.
“Never mind the seasoning; we ain’t got all night! Dawn ain’t far away, so let’s get a move on. I don’t fancy being turned to stone,” said Tom the troll. He turned back to the fire.
I began to wriggle my other shoulder free. It wasn’t easy, since the bag was pretty tight against me. I twisted, turned, and squirmed until finally the bag was loose, and I could poke one hand out of the hole at the top. I was really making progress, until Bilbo called out, “Wait! You are making a terrible mistake.” The trolls’ attention turned back to us. I heard Thorin groan. What was Bilbo doing?
“Uh, I meant with the, uh, with, uh, with the seasoning,” Bilbo called out, standing up.
“What about the seasoning?” Bert asked.
“Well have you smelt them? You’re going to need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up!”
At that, all the dwarves kicked and screamed at Bilbo for the insult. Even though I agreed with Bilbo about the dwarves’ odor, I still was irritated at him for ruining Thorin’s plan.
“What do you know about cooking dwarf?” the one troll protested.
“Shut up, and let the, uh, flurgaburburrahobbit talk,” Bert told his friend, leaning closer to Bilbo.
Hopping forward a bit more, Bilbo kept up his patter. “Uh, th-the secret to cooking dwarf is um,” he stuttered. “It’s uh—”
“Tell us the secret!” Bert pressed Bilbo.
“Ye-yes, I’m telling you, the secret is…to skin them first!” As he said it, Bilbo winced slightly.
At that, my skin crawled and my heart pounded. Instead of making things better, Bilbo had just made things a whole lot worse.
Thanks for reading!