A Thorn In My Side

A Herd

Being tied into sacks, was clearly not part of the rescue plan. I was laying on top of Fili, where one of the trolls had carelessly tossed me. Every time I tried to get off him, I kicked him somewhere.

"Just stop moving!" He wheezed after I winded him for the second time. "It's not like your heavy."

It wasn't comfortable, lying on a man when tied in a sack. Father would have a heart attack of he saw me like this. My mind was reeling, trying to find a way out of this.

"Never mind the seasoning. We ain't got all night. Dawn ain't far away. Lets get a move on. I don't fancy bein turned to stone." One of the trolls was saying.

"Hold on!" I yelled, getting an idea. "You can't eat us now, you'll run out for tomorrow!"

One of the trolls looked down at me. "Run out?"

I nodded quickly. "Shouldn't you save us till later?"

"We're not waitin." He started to turn away.

"'Old on." Tom, I think, said. "She's right. We won't 'ave any for tomorrow." His face lit up. "Bert! We could raise a herd!"

Oh good lord, I made it worse. "A herd?"

"Yeah. Mum told me that if we put two inta a sack, and shake it around, in the morning there'll be little ones!"

"Great idea." He reached down and grabbed me. "Le's find 'er a mate."

And so they set to work. Balin was ruled out as too old, Bombut too fat, Ori too young. "What about 'im? He's strong." They were inspecting Kili. "Smells young."

"No, 'im!" Tom grabbed Thorin. "Those two smell like 'im. He's a good age, already had two bulgar hobbits."

It was settled. I was taken from my sack, and shoved into his. It gave us no wiggle room. My head was pressed to his chest. Everything was pressed together, EVERYTHING. I don't think even my mother would find this amusing. My heart pounded loudly, and once again I was glad I had wrapped my chest. Not that to me it made any difference, I still had a manly man pressed against me. My face flamed. I was pretty sure this was no where in the contract.

Bert picked us up, before shacking us. My teeth rattled, and my head kept slamming into his chest. I could feel my neck pop, signaling that my (fragile) body couldn't take much more. Bert switched tactics, by the ties of the sack, he spun us around over his head. Thankfully I hadn't had the chance to eat, or it would have been all over the dwarf prince. Thorin luckily kept his meal down, as we went another few spins.

"Set 'em down gentle, she's with child now." Tom said as we were sent down. The way we were put down, we lay on our sides.

Clearly that hadn't worked. My mind raced again as Bert began to roast the others again on the giant spit. Plan B.

"You are making a huge mistake!" I yelled again. "You've got the seasoning all wrong."

"What about the seasoning?" Bert asked.

"Have you smelt them? Your gonna need something a lot stronger than sage before you plate this lot up." I stalled. I just needed the sun to rise, then we would live.

"What do you know about cooking dwarf."

"Shut up." Bert said. "Let the uh, flurgaburburhobbit talk."

"Well, um, the secret to cooking dwarf, is to, marinade then. Yes. Let the mixture of um.... skunk dung, paprika, and peppermint leaves sink in."

It was difficult to talk when all I could smell was Thorin's coat, which smelt strangely appealing... The others began to protest, clearly not as smart as they once claimed.