How to brew a Troll stew, Minerva edition
He should be called the king of Brooding, thought Sage, annoyed. How could he always stare into the distance with that morose look? It was testing her patience. She was sitting near the campfire and eating while her brother was bringing the younglings their food. Gandalf was Eru knows where and that damn dwarf is still glaring at her. Suffice it to say, Sage's patience has been nearing its end for a while now.
“Would ye stop staring at me?! Why are ye so against me comin'?” In her annoyance, the hint of the accent she had in her previous life slipped out.
They were traveling for some time and this confrontation had been brewing ever since the first day.
“Why? I'll tell you why!” Thorin stood with a frown on his face. “This is a dangerous quest, bad enough that my own sister-sons insisted on going, but now a halfling, who hasn't seen any battle and a hobbit lass who shouldn't risk her life for anyone, much less people not her own!” Sage's eyes widened at this new information. She thought he had other reasons... “I know we will have to defend you both and perhaps someone of my company will die doing so. I cannot lose any of them. They're the only ones brave enough to follow me.“
“Thank you for your concern, Master Thorin, but I can protect myself. My brother was taught self-defense as well, though he usually prefers his words to his weapons.” Sage is much calmer now. She wasn’t pleased per se, but not as angry as before. Yes, not happy about getting underestimated, again, but at least he is thinking about his people.
“I will believe it when I see it.” Thorin scoffed. No, he didn't believe that a halfling, could be considered a threat.
Maybe something else would have been said. Perhaps another argument or a truce. We will never know, for right then, into their camp ran in Fili and Kili.
“Trolls! In the forest! They have Bilbo and some of the ponies!” Sage could almost hear them. Those words from so long ago. Troll! In the dungeon! Troll in the dungeon! Thought you ought to know. Minerva dearly hoped no one would be hurt this time too.
Immediately the camp descended into chaos. The dwarrow grabbed their weapons, the ex-transfiguration professor her daggers and a thing from her pack. In all of the confusion, none of Durin's children paid any attention to our favorite kitty. Now, we all are aware that the lovely lions prefer to attack without a plan, but let me remind you, that this is Minerva McGonagall. She is a fan of chess, see '92 incident if you doubt it. While the company ran blindly into the clearing with a giant pot, Sage followed in the shadows.
It was madness. Complete and total madness. Thirteen dwarrow and a hobbit ran between three mountain trolls, trying to stab or cut them and Sage, hidden, began to throw knives. One of them hit a troll, in the eye. He was not pleased. Trees and bushes, grass and rocks, ground and air shook with his roar. Birds, which were brave or stupid enough to still be here left with nary a fuss. It is then, with Sage's small victory, that things took a very wrong turn. Young Kili tried to rush to Bilbo, but Thorin stopped him.
“Let down your arms! Or we will rip his off!” Sage stood frozen. Her brother was being threatened with lost limbs. I do not know whether fortune smiled upon those trolls or cursed them. Thorin stabbed his sword into the ground, thus leaving all of the clearing's occupants' fates in Minerva's hands. Also Gandalf's, who is still looking ahead.
Part of Thorin Oakenshields company was in what looked like potato sacks, others were being patiently roasted over the fire. Slowly, like a lioness on a hunt, as that's exactly what she is, Sage Baggins, daughter of the late Belladonna Took-Baggins, the favorite daughter of the Old Took, stalked into the camp.
“Oi, Bert, it's another Burglahobbit!“
“Oh, I want to eat it!“
“Eat me? Now now, that would be unwise.” Only now, after the trolls and Minerva had spoken, did the dwarves notice her here. Some were preparing to shout or tell her to get out of there. That was until her glare silenced them all.
“Why would that be?” One asked Sage, whom he assumed to be no threat.
“Well first I am no burglahobbit, whatever that is supposed to be. Second, that thing in your pot smells terribly rotten. Is it supposed to be soup?“
“Oi! It ain't bad!” This time, it was the one she hit in the eye.
“You don't know? It's no wonder you want to eat me! You can't even smell your downfall!” Her eyes widened, and her voice was filled with surprise. Or at least that’s how she wanted it to seem.
“What? What are you talking about?” And finally, the last troll had spoken.
“You put dandelions into it and no blueberries!“
“What does it do? Why would we need blueberries?” The trolls were so, so confused. They exchanged glances, but none knew more than another.
“If you eat only dandelions, you get horrible stomach aches and can even damage your vision. I myself am a quite well-known cook, who can make anything with dandelions and no pain would follow.” Poor Ori is so bewildered, he never heard of dandelions causing any kind of damage to eyes, although, he doesn't care for green foods, so what did he know?
“No! I don't want to hurt me stomach!“
“I want to eat!“
The trolls looked scared, while the dwarves along with Bilbo were pretty disorientated because of the situation and worried about Sage and themselves. Unbeknownst to a large part of our adventurers, McGonagall had a plan.
“Fix it then, if yer so good!“
One of the trolls picked up Sage and held her in front of a steaming pot. Shouts ran into the night air, but the cat animagus paid them no mind.
“It is fortunate indeed, that I have some blueberries with me.” No, it wasn't for those trolls. Sage reached inside a pouch at her waist and took a handful of dark berries. She threw them into the pot and took another handful. The witch threw that in too. Almost an entire pouch worth of berries now swam among other things inside that pot. “Here, you all have to taste it. It should be delicious.” The troll let her go and Minerva immediately edged away.
All three of them took large gulps of it, trusting that the not-burglar hobbit had been telling the truth. Surprise! She wasn't.
“I don't feel so good...“
“Me too...“
“I'm sick...“
They began stumbling, their vision became blurry, and their heart beat faster and faster. One started spasming, while the other two lost consciousness. The sun still hadn't risen, and yet all three of the mountain trolls were already dead.
“How did you do that?!” Bofur's shout was loud and clear, as well as the murmurs and grumblings of agreement from the rest.
“I put belladonnas, not blueberries into that thing they called a pot.” Her voice is nonchalant, uncaring. Minerva moves closer to those on the ground and begins freeing them of their binds one after one.
“The dawn will take you all!”
Turning their heads, our dear members of this quest see Gandalf atop a large rock slamming his staff onto it and dividing it in half.
“Late to the party as always, I see. Trolls are already dead.” This time, everybody can hear how much Sage is amused by all of this.
The Grey Wizard shakes with laughter so loud and light it feels like the early morning and its sun is far brighter than it should be.
“My dear girl, if I'd known you all could kill these trolls, I would have made myself some tea waiting for you at the camp.“
“Mister Gandalf, why didn't you tell us Miss Sage was so scary?” Ah, Kili, the curiosity of the youth.
“Scary? Oh my, why would you find her scary, Master Kili?” Now, the old greybeard is confused. He never thought he'll hear someone call a hobbit, of all things, scary!
“Because she defeated those trolls herself! We were useless like potato sacks!” I am not exactly sure how, but Kili manages to sound both impressed and disappointed.
“How did you manage to do that, Miss Baggins?” Ah yes, curiosity. I hear it killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. I wonder how it applies to cat animagi?
“I tricked them into eating a... ahem, soup, with Belladonna in it. It's not like I used magic and hit them over their heads with their clubs.” At the end of her short explanation, Minerva had a small, a little bit teasing smile.
“What? Why would you have magic and use it like that?” Thorin, I have a question for you - seriously?
“It is called joking, master dwarf.” Again with an unimpressed tone Sage?
McGonagall turns around and walks... somewhere. Perhaps to resupply her poisons? Death knows, actually, no, even Death does not know.
Gandalf and Thorin traded a few words and soon, they are all looking for a troll cave. While doing so, Gandalf comes closer to Bilbo. The Grey Wizard's brows are furrowed, eyes troubled, lips no longer stretched into a smile.
“Bilbo, do you know why your sister was so unbothered by killing? Is she alright?”
The hobbit in question sighed. His shoulders slumped a bit, eyes downcasted, head bowed.
“If you visited us in the Fell Winter, you would know that this was not Sage's first kill. That winter was indeed bad. Around January, Hobbiton was almost starving. Ours had been one of the only families who still had enough food to last about a month or so. Mother knew, the only way we all could survive, was if we went to The Great Smials of Tuckborough, it should have space and food to fit everybody in the Shire. So, we took all the supplies we had left, and a caravan of hobbits from Hobbiton traveled. Most of the way, while being very careful, nothing happened. It wasn't until we passed Bywater, that the wolves attacked. There were around a dozen of them or so. The few boulders, who traveled with us, tried to shoot them. I think they got five, maybe six of them. But still, half of them lived. Mother used to go on those adventures with you, that's the only reason why, when she pulled out a sword, she managed to kill four of them. You know, while all of this was going on, most of the caravan ran away, towards the safety of the Great Smials. And yet, Dad stayed. He told me to grab Sage and go. We were both foolish to think Sage would run, instead of fighting what made others run. I remember how the last two wolves circled mother, preparing to pounce. I can still feel the fear freezing me in place, the same fear which my sister defeated. Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I can see her charging towards the beasts with a dagger, I think she got that from mothers' bag, I can see how one wolf turns to her and snarls. I can still hear both of my parents shouting at Sage, telling her to get out. And yet, like always, she didn't listen. The wolf jumped at her, she wheeled around taking a few steps to the side. While she did so, her hand shoot out, right to the wolfs' eye. That howl... Gandalf, that howl haunts me to this day... No one could ever call my sister a coward, for she didn't hesitate. While her foe was still reeling from sudden pain, Sage struck again and again and again, toward its neck. The wolf dropped dead. If you haven't forgotten, I said two wolves were left. One fell to my sister's blade, while the other... Oh Gandalf, it was the biggest of them all. I could see how enraged it was and how it looked at Sage. How it took a step towards her and the only reason why my sister hadn't died that day or maybe even came home with two kills, was our mother running her sword through the last wolf. I still see my sister's bloodied face and hands covered in red. And every day, I hate my cowardice, for not running instead of my baby sister, and every day I thank the Valar for my sister's bravery.” Silence reigned after Bilbo's tale. One of them relived a horrific memory, while the other blamed himself even more for not being there as he should have been.
What neither Bilbo nor Gandalf noticed was that a dwarf king and his captain of the guard heard the story from start to finish. To both of them, the former headmistress of Hogwarts proved to be even more worthy of respect than they already thought. It didn't take long to find the cave and very quickly Sage and some others were inside that foul-smelling place. Three dwarves - Gloin, Nori, and Bofur, decided to leave a long-term deposit. I wonder why they need it if after they reclaim Erebor, that long-term deposit won't hold a candle to what they will have. Anyway, Sage walked deeper into the troll cave. The entire thing was covered in coins, jewels, and precious items. That is until she noticed a familiar sword. Silently the cat animagus inched closer. Yes, this weapon was indeed familiar. After all, it's hard to forget the blade which killed Voldemort's snake. Next to it laid a piece of parchment with her old name on it.
Your Cattiness Minerva,
I thought you will need another weapon besides your wand in this world. You are on a dangerous quest. Also, it will remind you of Hogwarts. I bound it to your soul, temporarily this time, so when you travel to your next life, you will be able to summon it just like your wand. After your ninth life, it will return to Hogwarts, inside the Sorting Hat. Oh, and I shrunk it itty bitty bit, just so it would fit you in your current body. It will adjust in to fit you in your every life.
Best of luck!
Your friend, Death.
“Typical. Your cattiness! Cha! Who would've thought Death liked humor?”
While muttering similar things, like “You could have at least given it a sheath, now I have to look around a Merlin damned troll cave for something that should fit! I will probably have to spell it against Basilisk venom so it wouldn't deteriorate!” and so on, her Cattiness Minerva walks towards the rest of her group.
Sage emerges from the cave's exit with her new sword strapped on her back. It turns out there was a sheath good enough, for now, in this damp cave. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Gandalf giving Bilbo a short sword. Should she interfere or should she wait until they are at camp? A former transfiguration professor redirects her attention when she hears someone, not of this company, approaching. They immediately get ready for battle by drawing their weapons, and shields if they have them and of course look in the direction of a new enemy. Tense seconds pass while the company awaits. They can hear, but not see, how they are getting closer. But nothing could quite prepare them for this.
“Thieves! Fire! Murder!” Screams an old man riding on a slide pulled by rather big rabbits. I would understand dogs, but rabbits?
“Radagast. It's Radagast the Brown.” With Gandalf's declaration dwarrow and hobbits begin to lower their weapons, although only after Gandalf did it too.