The Path Through Mirkwood: 17 - Knives and Tweezers
Characters/Pairings: Fíli/Bofur, Thorin, Thorin's Company
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Horror
Warnings: Body Horror, Oviposition, Medical Procedures, Character Death, Hallucinations
Summary: The things Thorin’s company encounters in Mirkwood are beyond their worst nightmares. As Fíli’s uncle says, the faster they travel, the sooner they will leave the forest and all its horrors behind - if they manage to....
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit.
Chapter 17: Knives and Tweezers
Notes: If descriptions of medical procedures bother you, you might want to skip this chapter. There is also mention of vomiting, just in case there are any emetophobes on board.
“Thank you, Fíli,” Thorin said, placing his hand on Fíli’s shoulder.
Fíli shrugged it off. “Let’s just get this done with.”
Fíli, Bifur and Dwalin carried Bofur to the fire they had lit, a little bit away from the group for some more privacy, as Óin, Thorin and Bombur followed. They set Bofur down gently.
“There’s one in his hand,” Fíli said.
“We need to see if there really are others and where they are,” Óin replied.
Bifur, Bombur and Fíli undressed Bofur. Fíli shivered when he saw how thin Bofur had become. His constant hunger suddenly made a lot more sense. In some places, bruises were visible where the larva had burrowed through Bofur’s flesh.
“Here’s another one,” Bombur said, pointing at a bump on Bofur’s upper arm. Fíli suspected it had been the one they had seen in his face that morning.
They soon found another on Bofur’s left leg and a series of bumps on his stomach.
Óin looked closely at each of them. “They all don’t seem to be too deep under the skin, but I can’t quite tell with the ones in his stomach. I think I’ll start with the one on the upper arm.”
“May I watch?”
Fíli looked up to see that Ori had come over, his book in his hand.
“I’d like to document this for the chronicle of our journey.”
The others looked around at each other, and then nodded.
“Alright, but don’t get into the way,” Óin said.
Bifur excused himself to go over to the others. /I can only look at blood when in battle frenzy or I get ill,/ he explained.
Dwalin turned around to watch the forest, lest they were attacked when vulnerable.
Fíli held the hand of the arm Óin wouldn’t operate on and watched as Óin wiped the skin over the larva was with the elvish fluid. Then Óin took one of the knives he had heated over the fire beforehand and then let cool down.
He made a slightly curved cut beside the larva. Fíli watched as the thin line turned red, some blood trickling down. Bombur wiped it away.
Then Óin took his tweezers and tried to grasp the larva. He shook his head.
“The cut is not wide enough yet.”
He widened the cut and reached for the tweezers again. This time he managed to get a hold of the animal and inched it out of the incision as it struggled and twitched.
“There we go!” Óin said triumphantly.
Fíli watched in fascination as the larva emerged from the wound, as long and thick as his fingers and so pale it was almost translucent. The larva was covered in a sheen of blood, pooling more thickly between the segments. It squirmed frantically as it tried to escape the tweezers. Fíli felt his stomach twist unpleasantly.
Behind him, Dwalin retched violently and rushed behind a tree to noisily expel the contents of his stomach.
Óin plopped the larva into a bowl where it struggled uselessly in its new environment.
Fíli took a deep, steadying breath and looked at the others. Bombur was slightly pale but determined as he dabbed the blood away from the wound carefully and applied the elvish fluid against inflammation. Thorin, on the other hand, had turned a delicate shade of green.
Óin also glanced up as he took the needle to stitch the wound shut. He sighed. “Please just leave, Thorin.”
Thorin gave him a tight-lipped nod and hurried off.
Óin shook his head. “I will never understand how little battle-hardened warriors can stand when it comes to healing.”
He gave Fíli a stern look. “Are you alright there, lad? You can leave too if you like, but send someone else over to give me a hand if you do.”
Fíli shook his head. “I’m fine.”
“Good. Then you can put an end to this piece of vermin,” Óin nodded towards the bowl with the squirming larva and began stitching.
Fíli braced himself, but he was spared by Ori.
“May I draw it first?” Ori asked eagerly. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t get away and I can kill it afterwards.”
Óin nodded. “Just make sure you don’t touch it while it is still alive, just to be safe. And hold the bowl over here when I tell you to so that I can put in the next one.”
Ori nodded and took the bowl. He prodded at the larva with a stick and started sketching it without any of the disgust Fíli felt.
Fíli gently stroked Bofur’s hand and then cleaned the used knife and tweezers, heated them over the fire and set them down on the clean piece of cloth Óin was keeping his tools on.
Óin had moved on to the larva Fíli had seen in Bofur’s hand earlier, which had now moved into his lower arm. This time, Óin knew how large the cut had to be and the larva was extracted more quickly. Again, Fíli cleaned the tools while Bombur cleaned the wound and Óin put in the stitches.
When Óin was working on the larva in Bofur’s leg, Fíli glanced over at Ori. Ori had killed one of the larvae when he had finished drawing it and had now slit it open, looking at its insides with curiosity. Fíli had to swallow hard and look away when he realised the pink ribbon running through the larva were its guts, filled with pieces of Bofur’s flesh.
Finally, Óin moved on to the larvae in Bofur’s stomach. He extracted the first one without any difficulties, even though he had been worried they might be more difficult to get.
The second larva in Bofur’s stomach was a different story. It managed to squirm from the grasp of Óin’s tweezers and Óin had to widen the cut to get a hold of it again. He was about to stitch up the incision when he paused and squinted.
“I think there may be another one in there, but I’m not sure.”
Fíli looked at the wound, the red of the bleeding skin giving way to something yellowish. Suddenly, something squirmed and a part of a pale larva became visible.
“There! It really is another one!”
Óin saw it too and managed to grasp it before it squirmed back to somewhere they couldn’t see it. He pulled it out and dropped it into the bowl. He hesitated and peered at the cut critically.
“Those were all we could see. I’m just worried we couldn’t see that last one from the outside. What if there are more?”
Fíli glanced at the bowl with the larvae. “We have six here. The elf said there should be between six and fourteen, so maybe we got them all.”
“Maybe,” Óin said, frowning. “I just wish we could be sure. But I don’t want to go looking for more that aren’t visible from the outside. I might damage something.”
Bofur stirred slightly and Fíli grasped his hand a bit tighter. “Don’t worry, everything is fine. Just keep sleeping.”
“Close him up,” Bombur said nervously. “We don’t know how long exactly the sleeping draught works.
Fíli nodded. “You should. I don’t even want to imagine Bofur waking up now.”
Óin complied and quickly stitched up the wound.
“We just need to keep an eye on him.
Previous Chapter <> Chapter Index <> Next Chapter
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Horror
Warnings: Body Horror, Oviposition, Medical Procedures, Character Death, Hallucinations
Summary: The things Thorin’s company encounters in Mirkwood are beyond their worst nightmares. As Fíli’s uncle says, the faster they travel, the sooner they will leave the forest and all its horrors behind - if they manage to....
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit.
Chapter 17: Knives and Tweezers
Notes: If descriptions of medical procedures bother you, you might want to skip this chapter. There is also mention of vomiting, just in case there are any emetophobes on board.
“Thank you, Fíli,” Thorin said, placing his hand on Fíli’s shoulder.
Fíli shrugged it off. “Let’s just get this done with.”
Fíli, Bifur and Dwalin carried Bofur to the fire they had lit, a little bit away from the group for some more privacy, as Óin, Thorin and Bombur followed. They set Bofur down gently.
“There’s one in his hand,” Fíli said.
“We need to see if there really are others and where they are,” Óin replied.
Bifur, Bombur and Fíli undressed Bofur. Fíli shivered when he saw how thin Bofur had become. His constant hunger suddenly made a lot more sense. In some places, bruises were visible where the larva had burrowed through Bofur’s flesh.
“Here’s another one,” Bombur said, pointing at a bump on Bofur’s upper arm. Fíli suspected it had been the one they had seen in his face that morning.
They soon found another on Bofur’s left leg and a series of bumps on his stomach.
Óin looked closely at each of them. “They all don’t seem to be too deep under the skin, but I can’t quite tell with the ones in his stomach. I think I’ll start with the one on the upper arm.”
“May I watch?”
Fíli looked up to see that Ori had come over, his book in his hand.
“I’d like to document this for the chronicle of our journey.”
The others looked around at each other, and then nodded.
“Alright, but don’t get into the way,” Óin said.
Bifur excused himself to go over to the others. /I can only look at blood when in battle frenzy or I get ill,/ he explained.
Dwalin turned around to watch the forest, lest they were attacked when vulnerable.
Fíli held the hand of the arm Óin wouldn’t operate on and watched as Óin wiped the skin over the larva was with the elvish fluid. Then Óin took one of the knives he had heated over the fire beforehand and then let cool down.
He made a slightly curved cut beside the larva. Fíli watched as the thin line turned red, some blood trickling down. Bombur wiped it away.
Then Óin took his tweezers and tried to grasp the larva. He shook his head.
“The cut is not wide enough yet.”
He widened the cut and reached for the tweezers again. This time he managed to get a hold of the animal and inched it out of the incision as it struggled and twitched.
“There we go!” Óin said triumphantly.
Fíli watched in fascination as the larva emerged from the wound, as long and thick as his fingers and so pale it was almost translucent. The larva was covered in a sheen of blood, pooling more thickly between the segments. It squirmed frantically as it tried to escape the tweezers. Fíli felt his stomach twist unpleasantly.
Behind him, Dwalin retched violently and rushed behind a tree to noisily expel the contents of his stomach.
Óin plopped the larva into a bowl where it struggled uselessly in its new environment.
Fíli took a deep, steadying breath and looked at the others. Bombur was slightly pale but determined as he dabbed the blood away from the wound carefully and applied the elvish fluid against inflammation. Thorin, on the other hand, had turned a delicate shade of green.
Óin also glanced up as he took the needle to stitch the wound shut. He sighed. “Please just leave, Thorin.”
Thorin gave him a tight-lipped nod and hurried off.
Óin shook his head. “I will never understand how little battle-hardened warriors can stand when it comes to healing.”
He gave Fíli a stern look. “Are you alright there, lad? You can leave too if you like, but send someone else over to give me a hand if you do.”
Fíli shook his head. “I’m fine.”
“Good. Then you can put an end to this piece of vermin,” Óin nodded towards the bowl with the squirming larva and began stitching.
Fíli braced himself, but he was spared by Ori.
“May I draw it first?” Ori asked eagerly. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t get away and I can kill it afterwards.”
Óin nodded. “Just make sure you don’t touch it while it is still alive, just to be safe. And hold the bowl over here when I tell you to so that I can put in the next one.”
Ori nodded and took the bowl. He prodded at the larva with a stick and started sketching it without any of the disgust Fíli felt.
Fíli gently stroked Bofur’s hand and then cleaned the used knife and tweezers, heated them over the fire and set them down on the clean piece of cloth Óin was keeping his tools on.
Óin had moved on to the larva Fíli had seen in Bofur’s hand earlier, which had now moved into his lower arm. This time, Óin knew how large the cut had to be and the larva was extracted more quickly. Again, Fíli cleaned the tools while Bombur cleaned the wound and Óin put in the stitches.
When Óin was working on the larva in Bofur’s leg, Fíli glanced over at Ori. Ori had killed one of the larvae when he had finished drawing it and had now slit it open, looking at its insides with curiosity. Fíli had to swallow hard and look away when he realised the pink ribbon running through the larva were its guts, filled with pieces of Bofur’s flesh.
Finally, Óin moved on to the larvae in Bofur’s stomach. He extracted the first one without any difficulties, even though he had been worried they might be more difficult to get.
The second larva in Bofur’s stomach was a different story. It managed to squirm from the grasp of Óin’s tweezers and Óin had to widen the cut to get a hold of it again. He was about to stitch up the incision when he paused and squinted.
“I think there may be another one in there, but I’m not sure.”
Fíli looked at the wound, the red of the bleeding skin giving way to something yellowish. Suddenly, something squirmed and a part of a pale larva became visible.
“There! It really is another one!”
Óin saw it too and managed to grasp it before it squirmed back to somewhere they couldn’t see it. He pulled it out and dropped it into the bowl. He hesitated and peered at the cut critically.
“Those were all we could see. I’m just worried we couldn’t see that last one from the outside. What if there are more?”
Fíli glanced at the bowl with the larvae. “We have six here. The elf said there should be between six and fourteen, so maybe we got them all.”
“Maybe,” Óin said, frowning. “I just wish we could be sure. But I don’t want to go looking for more that aren’t visible from the outside. I might damage something.”
Bofur stirred slightly and Fíli grasped his hand a bit tighter. “Don’t worry, everything is fine. Just keep sleeping.”
“Close him up,” Bombur said nervously. “We don’t know how long exactly the sleeping draught works.
Fíli nodded. “You should. I don’t even want to imagine Bofur waking up now.”
Óin complied and quickly stitched up the wound.
“We just need to keep an eye on him.
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