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Chapter Three
Bilbo adapted well to the new life he had been brought in to. Things like the date and the Dwarvish language still confused him, though the Company made an ongoing effort to teach him the basics of their tongue. He depended less and less on the modern objects he had brought such as sunglasses and camping lights, much to the Dwarves' approval. He even began to feel comfortable with riding his pony.
The Dwarves took less kindly to his way of life. With his medical experience, Bilbo was appointed Healer of the Company as well as the Burglar, but they were not always keen to allow him to tend their wounds.
"Kili," he told the young Dwarf Prince one afternoon, "Its like you don't trust me, you know that?"
"I do trust you, Bilbo." he said through gritted teeth, "But this isn't necessary. I'll be fine."
"Let me take a look at least." said Bilbo.
"Just let him, Kee." said Fili, who was crouched beside them.
Warily Kili pushed aside his cloak and shifted his trousers, lifting his tunic a few inches. There was a nasty gash on his hip and a bruise blossoming around it. Bilbo sighed. They had been on a narrow forest path with a steep, rocky drop to one side. The drop itself was no more than four or five metres, but they dismounted and led their ponies nonetheless. Kili, being Kili, had decided to walk right on the edge of the path, straying on to the rocks more often than not. Rain from the previous night had made the rocks slippery, so it was no great surprise when he slid and fell, and only a miracle he hadn't brought his pony down with him. Luckily his only injury was the wound on his hip, but still it would have to be treated, lest it go infected. After a scolding from Thorin, they carried on, but Kili's gasps of pain every so often were enough to bring the Company to a halt in a large clearing so Bilbo could see to it.
"I'll get some antiseptic wipes to clean it out, and I've got cream that'll bring down the bruising. I can't properly plaster it because of the position." Bilbo said, having seen the damage.
"It's nothing, Bilbo. Don't bother with your fancy medicine, I don't need it."
Kili pleaded and protested and insisted for all he was worth, and it wasn't until Thorin appeared and told Kili he would rub salt in it if that's what Bilbo wanted that Kili let him do what needed done. Still Kili flinched and kicked when Bilbo wiped his cut, and complained about the bruise cream, but at least he was one of the Dwarves who even let Bilbo near their bodies with his medical equipment. Ones such as Bifur, Dwalin, Oin and Gloin would not accept so much as a cough sweet. Once Kili was taken care of, it was decided that they might as well set up camp there, as little more ground could be covered by the time they set off, a decision from Thorin that sent sparks of irritation directed at the youngest Dwarf Prince from all corners of the Company.
Bilbo tutted as he watched Kili sat with his back turned on the Company, sharpening a stick idly.
"Kili?" he said softly, going over to sit with the young Dwarf. Kili tensed, but when he saw who it was, his shoulders sank.
"What's the matter?" Bilbo asked softly.
"'S fine." grumbled Kili.
"You can talk to me, you know. Even if you don't like the medicine. How's the hip anyway?"
"'S fine too. Just leave me alone."
"Why?"
"Well that's what everyone else does." Kili blurted, silently crucifying himself for his words immediately afterwards.
"Kili." he said, "Talk to me. Keeping in sadness- it doesn't get you anywhere, believe me. I know it seems impossible to speak out, Hell, sometimes it is, but I won't judge you, whatever it is. Please."
"No Bilbo, it's alright. This- this is nothing new. I'm just as fine as always."
Bilbo shook his head solemnly.
"It doesn't make it right just because it's common." he said, "I know it's brave of you not to burden people with your feelings, and it takes so much effort to reach out. But you know what else? It's so, so much more worthwhile."
A silence passed between the pair.
"I don't matter." said Kili after a while.
Bilbo looked at him in confusion.
"Not to the Company at least. Look around," Kili said, gesturing the Dwarves milling around between tents and fires, "They don't need me here. None of them do. Not to Dwalin, Balin, Bofur, Uncle Thorin, not even Fili really needs me! I've caused nothing but trouble this whole journey, and I know they know it. I'm reckless, stupid, clumsy... I use an elf's weapon and can't even grow a beard. I should have stayed in the Blue Mountains with my Mum, like the worthless spare I am. That's what I am- a spare, a stupid, worthless spare who doesn't matter."
"Yes you do." said Bilbo quietly, "You've always mattered. You matter as much as anyone here, and you're just as much of an asset as anyone else. I won't waste your time sighting examples of your bravery, or times you've done something the rest of us couldn't. But if you don't believe any of that, just trust me on this: your time will come. There will be a time when you prove yourself beyond all expectations. Hold out for that day, Kili. It's coming. I swear to you it's coming."
Kili nodded thoughtfully, twisting the palms of his hands together. He noted-
"I wish I could believe that. I feel like I should... Bilbo, surely that's not true! Maybe in your mind, or in your mind you think that'll make me feel better, but nobody else thinks that. None of them. They all think I don't matter. I don't matter."
"Yes you do."
It wasn't Bilbo who expressed this. It was Thorin.
"U-uncle Thorin!" Kili blurted, scrambling to his feet, "Mahal- did you- did you hear all that? Durin's balls! Oh no...!"
"Kili." he said peacefully, "Calm down. I heard most of it, or so I gather. I'm not angry with you."
Thorin clapped both his strong hands on Kili's shoulders. Bilbo watched in awe as Kili steadied his breathing.
"Listen to our burglar, he's good with words, and right in what he's saying. Come here." he said, bringing his nephew in for a close hug, "Remind me not to let him be our tracker," he added as a side note to Bilbo, "He misreads signs entirely."
Kili choked out a laugh, and it was then that with a pang Bilbo realised the Dwarf Prince was in tears.
"Oh dear..." Bilbo sighed as he felt tears creeping into his own eyes, threatening to spill.
"Not you too, Bilbo?" Thorin gently laughed, inviting him over to join the hug, before a desperate shout came from nearby.
"Thorin!" yelled Dwalin, running towards him with Thorin's sword in his hand. Throwing it to him, he called- "Someone sneaking around, we think they attacked Ori."
"Attacked Ori?" cried Bilbo, "Is he alright?"
"He's fine." Dwalin said, turning his attention to the Burglar, "But we need to find the filth, find out what they're up to."
"Elves, I'll bet." Thorin spat, stepping away from Kili, "Though we're still so far from Rivendell..."
"I've left Balin with Ori, Fili's already off looking for whoever did it."
"Kili," said Thorin, "Go to your brother, you can help each other. Bilbo, I'll escort you to Ori and Balin then Dwalin and I will join the hunt. Dwalin, split the rest of the Company between guarding the camp and catching the Elf-scum."
Thorin set off at a march before halting a few seconds later.
"Dwalin?" He said.
"Aye?"
"Where is Ori anyway?"
"Where you sent him- a little way up the stream in the trees there."
Thorin nodded, and gently beckoned for Bilbo to follow him.
"Stay close, my burglar." Thorin whispered, "I will see that no harm comes to you."
Bilbo smiled as they walked into the woodland of twisted little birches, almost forgetting the danger of the moment before he noticed Thorin constantly checking over his shoulder in anticipation, lifting his sword at the slightest irregularity.
It was only a few moments before they found Ori. Balin was talking to him, but they ended their conversation and looked over as Thorin and Bilbo emerged from the trees.
"Stay with them, Bilbo." he said softly, "Will you be okay?"
"I should think so, Thorin. You forget I spent three years in Afghanistan as a Captain for the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers."
"Yes, but that wasn't Middle-earth, and you weren't fighting Elves." said Thorin, sounding almost concerned.
"Elves?" Balin piped up, "Is that what's been decided? Thorin, I don't suppose you've considered that it could be someone else- goblin, orc, man, hobbit?"
"Whoever they are then." growled Thorin, looking about suspiciously, "I have to go. Stay safe... All of you."
He pulled Bilbo in for a fierce hug, lingering a moment as their heads touched, savouring the feel of his soft hair.
"Don't you you worry, laddie." said Balin, "I'll take of him."
Thorin nodded and set off, as Balin gave Bilbo a subtle wink. Laughing, he went to join them where Balin crouched next to Ori.
"Everything ok? I hear there's been a bit of an incident." Bilbo said.
"Do you want to tell him, Ori? Or shall I?" said Balin.
Ori shook his head with an uncomfortable frown.
"He's hardly told me anything." Balin admitted, "Just a few odd bits and pieces."
"Well what do we know?" asked Bilbo, sounding concerned.
"He says..." Balin began, looking over at Ori, "He says he was sat by the stream, and someone grabbed him from behind and picked him up by his collar, held him and had a good look at him, muttering away, then they threw him down and ran away. And that's all he's saying."
Bilbo nodded, thinking carefully.
"So it wasn't a violent attack then?"
"It was too!" Ori piped up, "Strangled me half to dead, they did, and threw me right down on my bottom!"
Bilbo sighed, and asked if he needed medical assistance, to which Ori refused quite timidly, being, like several others, wary of Bilbo's fancy equipment and strange potions.
Once night closed in, the Company was reunited around the campfire, minus the scattered few scouting the area. The hunt had achieved nothing, the attacker had apparently disappeared into the air, leaving the Dwarves rather miffed, and happy to receive bowls of hot mushroom soup from Bombur. It did not seem to matter how many times Ori was pressed for information by everyone, he spoke not a word of what had happened to him. Eventually, the tense atmosphere slackened off, and conversation started to pick up. Thorin even brought out his harp and played a few melodies, backed up by several vocalists. Bilbo watched contentedly as sparks from the fire rose up into the inky sky, and soon bright embers and smoke were all that remained.
"He was very tall."
All conversation died, and every head turned to Ori, who had sat quietly until that moment.
"Tall?" said Thorin.
"Oh yes, very tall. Dressed funny too- big black coat and a scarf. Blue eyes, glazed over like he was tired, or mad. Maybe both. Long face. Dark hair. Very sharp cheekbones..."
"This is your attacker?" Thorin asked, at which point Ori looked up, surprised, as if he hadn't quite realised what he had been saying.
The other Dwarves crowded round Ori, badgering him with questions, while Bilbo, unnoticed, glanced around, rubbing his sweating palms together. Surely now there was a storm coming.