Chapter 1: Down, Down, Down
Chapter Text
Bilbo groaned where he had landed on Bombur, his large stomach had softened his impact when they had hit bottom. He was grateful he had fallen on top of the dwarf instead of under him, a fate a few of the Company had not escaped going by the sound of the groans coming from below him.
Bilbo was quick to scramble off of the dwarf, falling to the ground amid the armor and hair of the other dwarrows. He managed to pick himself up without stepping on anyone when they were swarmed by dozens of goblins that seemed to be coming from every direction. The Company were quickly overwhelmed, hands tugged at Bilbo, ripping at his maroon jacket as he was forced out of the bowl they landed in.
Even as fear twisted his gut, he struggled against them the best he could and by the sound of it many of the Company were doing the same.
Dwalin was the loudest of them all, his voice bouncing in the small space, spewing curses. Through the mass of bodies, Bilbo could see him struggling to get the axes off his back. However the dwarrows were no match against the sheer number of the goblins that filled the passages. For every goblin Dwalin punched and ripped off his body, another 10 took its place. His axes were soon ripped away from him, as well as the rest of the Company’s weapons. Even Bilbo’s elven blade was ripped from his waist by long knarly fingers.
Once their weapons had been stripped, dozens of hands pushed and pulled the Company deeper into the mountains where even more goblins seemed to be waiting.
It was mass chaos, and at one point Bilbo found himself pushed to the side and not immediately grabbed again. He instinctly dropped to his knees to appear smaller and hopefully be ignored in all the commotion. But luck was against him as a goblin caught sight of him and dragged him to his feet by his hair. Bilbo gave a small gasp of pain at the action, but was quick to get moving as the goblin jabbed at him with the sharp edge of his crude sword.
The path they were being herded on turned from solid stone to a maze of rickety wooden bridges. In some places boards were missing and the ropes creaked ominously from supporting the weight of so many. Bilbo found himself almost pushed off the edge of one of the bridges they passed. As he struggled to regain his balance, he looked down. Blackness stretched as far as he could see and he knew that when he fell, he would be falling to his death.
Bilbo could feel his momentum pushing him forward into that blackness when suddenly there was an iron clad grip on his coat and he was pulled back from the edge and his almost certain fall. The sudden change of balance had him crashing slightly into his rescuers side. The same strong hand that had pulled him also assisted in righting him. Only then was Bilbo able to look up and see who had saved him.
The familiar brown eyes of Bifur were looking down on the hobbit with worry. It had been pure luck that in the seething mass of bodies that the dwarf had seen their hobbit tipping over the edge. With his advanced stone sense, Bifur could feel that the chasm they had been above stretched several miles down. A dwarf would probably survive that fall if he was lucky, but for the softer hobbit it would have been a death sentence. Bifur wrapped his arm securely around Bilbo and pulled him close to make sure that he wouldn’t almost be lost again.
Eventually they were led into a great chamber. The walls echoed with the shrieks of the hundreds of goblins that lined the walls; in every crack Bilbo turned his eyes to he could see dozens of hate filled eyes looking down. But they were nothing compared to waited for them in the center of it all.
Sitting on a massive throne was the biggest goblin that any of the Company had ever seen. Bifur could feel his smaller charge begin to quake in fear as they were brought to a stop in front of the giant goblin.
Only Bilbo knew immediately who this figure was as his eyes widened in fear as he gazed at the Goblin King. The voice of his Mother echoed in his ears, her warnings of why he should always be cautious when leaving the Shire.
“You must always remember my little Bilbo the threat we face from Goblin kind. The Goblin Kings have never forgotten how Bullroarer Took beheaded the great Goblin King Golfimbul. A grudge they have kept against all hobbit folk; even as they were forced to retreat into the Misty Mountains so long ago. Though they have never regained enough strength to attack the people of Middle Earth above ground since, you must always be vigilant. If you ever come face to face with a goblin Bilbo, never mention your Tookish heritage. And always, always hide your family crests. Goblins have sworn the foulest of deaths for members of our family.”
“Yes mama,” young Bilbo has assured his Mother will all the seriousness of a young faunt.
His Mother had smiled and ruffled his hair.
Lifting his eyes at the horde of goblins and then back at the Goblin King, he knew in that moment he wouldn’t be leaving this place alive. Closing his eyes, he could only pray to the Green Lady, that she would show him mercy and allow his death to be quick.
Chapter 2: Found Out
Summary:
Bilbo is discovered
Notes:
Here is the next chapter, its also short. These chapters refuse to grow in length.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The Goblin King paused in his mindless humming and peered with interest at the group in front of him. His watery eyes narrowed as the pile of weapons were deposited at his feet; Dwalin’s axes, Fili’s swords, Kili’s bow, and even Ori’s slingshot were dumped in front of him.
This gave the Company plenty of time to look upon his disgusting visage. His skin was stretched wide from the fat that lay underneath and covered with blemishes and warts. What little hair he had was greasy and hung in limp stands on his head. His right foot was more of a stub then foot, missing most of the toes. In his hand was staff with a horned skull placed on the top, which he used as a crutch as he stepped off his throne to come closer to the Company. Bilbo winced as he felt the shaky platform sway from the massive weight of the King.
“Who would be so bold to enter my Kingdom?” he demanded glaring at the group, coming closer. “Spies, thieves, assassins?” One of the goblins that had been holding Thorin stepped forward to answer the King.
“Dwarves your malevolence,” he said grinning with glee. “We found them on the front porch.”
The King looked taken aback by the announcement. “What are you doing in these parts?!” he demanded as his eyes roamed the large group.
Bilbo couldn’t help the shiver of fear that run up his spine as he huddled closer to Bifur as the dwarrows remained silent around him. He dearly wished he could turn invisible, knowing at any moment he could be discovered. Though he was afraid for himself, he was more afraid of what the King would do to his companions when he learned they brought a hobbit into the kingdom. Bifur feeling the shiver run through Bilbo pulled him closer into his side, slipping him partially into what little protection his coat had to offer and glared at the goblin. When the King’s gaze slipped over Bifur without much pause, Bilbo knew for the moment he was safe. When the King finally stopped his inspection, he turned to address his horde of goblins with a manic gleam in his eyes.
“Very well. If they will not talk, we'll make them squawk, but first. Search them” cried out the Goblin King with malleolus. “Every crook, every crevice!”
Like a tidal wave, goblins swept down from walkways and walls and swarmed around the dwarrows, more joining by the minute. Bifur growled at the goblins that began to tear at his clothing and despite every instinct telling him to fight them off he instead looked to his charge. As soon as the King had given the order Bifur had wrapped Bilbo firmly in his arms, hugging the hobbit to his chest in an effort to shield him from the grabbing hands.
But no matter how hard he tried to keep his arms firmly wrapped around Bilbo, they were no match for the sheer number of goblins. Too soon Bilbo was ripped from the protection of his arms so that the small creature could be searched.
Bilbo struggled against the hands that began to search his clothing. His cloths were no match for the sharp nails and strength of the goblins. His poor waist coat’s buttons were sent flying as it was forced apart and the clear sound of ripping fabric managed to reach his ears through the din and his maroon coat was split down the middle in the back.
When they found nothing, many of the hands left and Bilbo thought his great secret would remain when one closed his fist around the chain on his neck. For a moment the world froze as horror filled the hobbit.
The chain the goblin had found held the medallions of the Took and Baggins clan.
When a fauntling was deemed old enough and considered responsible, they were gifted with a simple chain that held the engraved golden emblem of their clan’s crest. It was the only piece of gold that any hobbit ever cared for. They were meant to be worn for life and when the time came to be buried with them.
Bilbo’s were even more special. They were the dearest things in Bilbo’s possession, a piece of his parents that he could carry with him always right above his heart. Once it became clear that Belladonna would have no more children, she and Bungo had gifted their medallions to him. It was considered a great scandal in the Shire for two reasons; one it was unheard of a hobbit to not wear their family crest and two for a male to wear the crest of both their mother and fathers lines. When a hobbit lass married she would be given a medallion of her husband’s crest and she would wear both to show the family she came from and the one she joined.
Every family in the Shire had their own unique personal crests, but they all had the same basic layout. Flowers would frame the sides of the medallion showing the different values that the family strove to live by, while the middle was the family’s animal symbol.
The Baggins crest was framed with cockle and currant flowers and a skunk was the family animal. The flower meant gentility and you please all, while the skunk stood for respect and sensuality; everything a Baggins was meant to strive for. When Bungo had gifted his medallion to Bilbo, he had lost some of his respectability as a Baggins, not that he cared in the slightest.
The Tooks were the complete opposite, their crest was framed with coltsfoot, black poplar, and a tiger lily, meaning courage, adventure, and justice will be done. The Tooks cherished their animal symbol, the wolf. Wolves stood for many things but in that moment that stretched on forever, Bilbo could only think of one thing that wolves stood for, facing the End of One's Cycle with Dignity and Courage. He knew the risk of wearing them outside of the Shire and had decided to keep them on as he had run out of his door after Company.
Bilbo knew in that moment he would try everything in his power to try to be a Took, when the crests were brought to light he would die like a one.
He snapped back to the present when the chain was pulled taunt against his throat cutting off his breath as it bit into his flesh slicing into the soft flesh before it gave away. He fell slightly forward from the released tension and it was close enough for Bifur to snap the hobbit back to his chest.
Blood immediately began to soak Bifur’s tunic, and the dwarf wanted nothing more than bandage it before the filth of goblin town could infect it but then he caught sight of Bilbo’s face. It was one of horror and also resignation. Bifur followed his eyes to look at the chain that had been ripped from his neck. The goblin was slowly raising it up to get a better look at the markings.
The medallions swung slowly on their chain, twisting in the light, reflecting the light of the torches that light the cavern. The goblin brought them closer to his eyes, freezing when he took in the markings on the twin pieces of gold. Bilbo’s stomach sank like a stone as he saw recognition light in the goblins eyes. Looking first at the gold and then at the hobbit taking in the large, hairy feet to the golden copper curls that framed the hobbit’s face.
“Toooooook!!!!”
His screech echoed in the large cavern, and much to the dwarrows astonishment every goblin fell silent and froze.
“What did you say!” demanded the King.
The goblin ran to the King, his brethren parting for him. When he reached the King, he handed the medallions over. The sneer that had been on the King’s face melted away to a look of suspicion as he took the pieces of gold and held them close to his watery eyes. The whole cavern seemed to be holding its breath.
The King’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he slowly lowered his hand that clenched the chain tightly and glared at the frozen and confused dwarrows.
“You dare bring this into my Kingdom!” spat the King throwing the medallions to the ground and crushing them underfoot.
“Bring the Took forward!!” he commanded pointing his staff straight at Bilbo.
“No” whispered Bilbo as the goblin horde turned and looked at him as one, with nothing but malice in their eyes.
Notes:
I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I tinkered with the dialogue a bit as you can tell. I figured that Azog would find them anyway, even without the Goblin King sending a message. And somehow Bifur is determined to pop up in these chapters, good thing I love Bifur and Bilbo friendship. Next chapter is defiantly going to have Bilbo tortured, just a warning. Also here is an in-depth meaning of the animals on the crests and what the flowers mean. I might post a picture of what I imagine them to look like cause I have a few drafts, but I’m not the best artist so it will be crude.
Black polar-courage
Cockle-gentility
Coltsfoot-justice will be done
Currant-you please all
Tiger lily-adventureTooks crest have black polar, coltsfoot, and tiger lily framing the medallion and a wolf howling. Wolves stand for- Facing the End of One's Cycle with Dignity and Courage, Death and Rebirth, Spirit Teaching, Instinct Linked with Intelligence, Social and Family Values, Outwitting Enemies, Steadfastness, Skill in Protection of Self and Family, Taking Advantage of Change, Intuition, Learning, the Shadow, Guardianship, Ritual, Loyalty, Spirit, a Pathfinder, Psychic Energy, Inner Divinity, Teaching, Careful Study, Cunning, Escaping Hunters, Ability to Pass by Dangers Invisibly, An Astral Wolf Could Lead You to a Spiritual Teacher, Strong Protection, Spiritual Guidance in Dreams and Meditations, the Teacher, Success, Perseverance, Stability, Thought
Baggins has cockles, currant, framing it and a Skunk. Skunks stand for, Sensuality, Respect, Self Esteem, Shrewdness, Transformation, Life, Death, Rebirth, Rain, Fertility, TransmutationI defiantly think Bilbo's more of a wolf then a skunk, hello ability to pass by danger invisibly!
Chapter 3: Tortured
Summary:
Bilbo gets tortured, and the dwarrows reflect on their thoughts on the smallest member of their company
Notes:
Here you go a long chapter hope you enjoy. Warning Bilbo does gets tortured in this chapter.
Chapter Text
“No” whispered Bilbo as the goblins all turned as one and careened towards him, Bifur gripped the hobbit closer to him, trying to protect their smallest member of the company, he wished frantically that he could grab the boar spear that lay only a few yards away. Bilbo was one of the few people Bifur had met since taking a goblin axe to the head that didn’t judge him as soon as they looked at him. He treated Bifur like any of the other dwarrows in the Company and Bifur was grateful for it.
But the goblins were on him too quick for him to make a grab for his spear. He growled swinging his fists at the goblins, fighting them as Bilbo clung more desperately to his cloths then before. The rest of the company also tried to fight, but the goblins held them back. There numbers overwhelming the power of the dwarrows. In the end it was useless as Bilbo was ripped away from the dwarf. The hands that gripped Bilbo were hard enough to bruise, but Bilbo knew that this would be the least of his problems as he was dragged before the King and thrown at his feet. Bilbo tried to scramble to his feet, to try to run, only to be kicked in the face hard enough to flip him onto his back. Bilbo could feel his left eye beginning to swell, and he tasted blood on his tongue. He could hear the dwarrows protesting behind him, before being drowned out by the laughter of the goblins. The boards beneath Bilbo trembled as the King limped quickly over to the stunned Bilbo.
The Goblin King laughed as he planted the butt of his staff into Bilbo’s stomach, and slowly began to put his immense weight onto it. Bilbo grasped in pain, feeling as if the staff was going to go straight through him. He plucked his courage and forced himself to glare at the King, trying to hide the pain. This seemed to amuse the King as he smirked at the hobbit, his eyes filled with crazy glee and hatred. “Long has goblin kind waited for our revenge,” he sneered. “To long the hobbits have sought to hide from us, content in your green world, unwilling to leave. Content to hide like the cowards you are” he hissed.
Bilbo refused to make a sound as even more pressure was put on him, he knew if the King were to put his full weight on the staff he would be run through. He was unable to stop the whimper of pain that escaped his lips despite himself. The small sound had the King laughing with glee, and his goblins followed suit filling the chamber with their hideous laughter, making it bounce off the walls, the sound echoing long after the laughter had stopped. Bilbo dared not look at the company; he doubted they knew what was happening. He wished he could spare the three youngest the sight of what was going to happen. Bilbo began to see spots dance across his vision as his lungs struggled to draw breath against the terrible pressure, his lower ribs creaking in protest. Sounds began to bleed together into a dull roar, and the world began to fade.
The pressure was suddenly relieved and, Bilbo gasped as he was able to breathe again the world coming back into focus, his relief was short lived as the staff was flipped and the horns impaled the wood on either side of his neck, efficiently pinning him to the floor. The Goblin King turned to his subjects. “Bring out the Mangler! Bring out the Bone Breaker! Start with the hobbit!”
A great cheer rose from the ranks of the goblins.
“No, you can't…” yelled Kili as Fili tried to shush him. For this caused the Goblin King to focus on them once again.
“How rude of me, in all the excitement I almost forgot our other guest. Bind them; gag them; I wish not to be interrupted during our moment of triumph.”
Rough ropes and smelly gags were produced, the dwarrows hands and feet were tied together and gags were firmly tied into place.
Bilbo took the advantage of the goblins attention focused on the dwarrows to make his hands busy, he hooked under the skull, channeling his panic and fear he heaved upward with a grunt. The spear popped from the wood and fell to the ground in a clank. The tiny noise in the sea of chaos, made everyone stop and turn towards him once again. Slowly he stood under the weight of thousands of eyes.
“My it seems like the hobbit is impatient. Jealous when the attention is not focused solely on him it would seem” sing-songed the King. “My loyal subjects as we wait for the great machines maybe we can show this Took the attention he craves.”
The dwarrows were horrified as the Goblin King began to sing as his goblins piled on Bilbo, beating him unmercifully. The machines of torture coming ever closer to the group of dwarrows. Kili, Fili, and Ori flinched at the sounds of cloth being torn and the sounds of fists hitting flesh. But Bilbo wasn’t making a sound through all of it, not one cry of pain escaped his lips.
The goblins were so thick on their burglar that they could only see glimpses of him through the bodies. The remains of Bilbo’s maroon jacket and green waistcoat were thrown aside during the beat down.
“Bones will be shattered, necks will be wrung, you will be beaten and battered, from racks you’ll be hung. You will die down here and never be found down in the deep of Goblin Town.”
The goblins all around the cavern stamped their feet in a semblance of a beat; the great machines of torture were brought to rest on the walkway of the great cavern. The one closest to the dwarves had a great crank on either side of machine with chains leading to the middle were there was a space where someone the size of a hobbit could be lain. (A/N I imagine that the bone mangler is like a medieval stretcher)
“That is enough” cried the King as the machine was settled in its place, “We can't spoil our hobbit before we even start the fun.”
As the goblins cleared away from Bilbo the dwarrows could see the damage done to their hobbit. Bilbo laid curled in on his side. His shirt ripped in numerous places were bruises were forming all over his chest and back. Other places blood was seeping from cuts across his chest and stomach. None were deep enough to kill but were deep enough to cause pain. His face was pale making the bruise that he had acquired when the King smashed him in the face stand out. A cut had been added above his left eyebrow. His eyes were closed as he labored to breathe, making Oin believe that he had a few broken ribs as well.
A silence filled the cavern by some unspoken command, a silence that was filled with a sense of foreboding. Ori was not afraid to admit that he jumped when suddenly the sound of a single thump on a drum filled the air. It sounded again followed by more and a deep steady beat began, sounding like drums in the deep. Bilbo opened his eyes at the sound of the beats, and he wished he hadn’t as he caught sight of the great machines of torture. The sounds of the beat continued to grow faster, and Bilbo flinched as hands grabbed him hauling him up from his protective ball. The pain from his broken ribs made his eyes water, but that didn’t stop him from fighting the hands that gripped him, that dragged him to the machines.
Bilbo couldn’t stop the trembling that consumed him as the goblins strapped his arms and legs into the bone mangler, the chains biting into his skin. He could barely see out of his left eye, between the swelling and blood that was running into it from the cut above his eyebrow. But he tried his best to make his face blank of the pain that coursed through his entire being. The beating had becomed frenzied at this point, but stopped just as suddenly as it began as the Goblin King moved to tower above him sneering.
“Tell me Halfling, what is your purpose with the dwarrows, and I might show you some mercy.”
Bilbo’s eyes flickered to the dwarrows, the older ones had their faces set in a blank mask, though he could see flashes of fear. Though from the fear of him telling the Goblin King of their mission or what was going to happen to him Bilbo didn’t know. The youngsters showed the most emotion, their faces full of fear for him. Bilbo knew he couldn’t betray his friends, he wouldn’t betray them, no matter what they thought of him and his ways. He was a Took, and he drew strength from what it meant to be a Took. He glared defiantly at the Goblin King. “Your kind knows no mercy, I will tell you nothing.” He was pleased as his voice did not break nor did it sound frightened. It came out calm and strong, betraying nothing that he was feeling.
Fear pooled in Bilbo’s stomach as the Goblin King smiled. “I was hoping you would say that.” One of his meaty hands snaked forward and grasped Bilbo’s jaw, lifting him up from the machine. A knife appeared in the King’s other hand, the tip flashing in Bilbo’s right eye before he felt the tip rest on his left check. Laughing the King brought the tip down and began carving Bilbo’s check. Bilbo withered in pain, but couldn’t break free of the strong grasp, that held his head steady while his body failed around like a fish on a hook. He could only wait for the King to stop, and try to stem the tears that leaked from his eyes. It seemed like hours later that the King finished letting Bilbo drop from his grasp.
“Now all will know that you belong to Goblin kind, your death will be long in coming. You will not die today, but by the time we are done today you will never be called Halfling again.”
With that the goblins began to crank to wheels that the chains were connected to, ever so slowly, mockingly. With each crank the chains grew tighter, pulling in the slack until Bilbo’s arms were stretched tight above his head and his legs stretched out as far as they could.
This was when a slow dull pain began to start in Bilbo’s limbs, a pressure that began to build. He couldn’t stop the whimper as his muscles and bones began to scream in protest. He arched his back from the table, biting his tongue, hard enough for blood to fill his mouth.
Bilbo screamed for the first time as finally one of the bones in his left arm snapped from the pressure, the scream was long and gurgled at the end as Bilbo chocked on the blood from his bitten tongue. The sound of his tortured screams spurred the dwarrows to struggle harder, tears were streaming unashamed down the three youngest faces. Even Thorin was stricken at the sight of their burglar in pain.
He didn’t understand it; he had been prepared to give himself up for any member of his company. To try to spare them pain that should be his, as he had led them here with his pride instead of waiting for the wizard. Therefore he had been shocked when the hobbit, who he had been cruel to at every turn, a being he didn’t deem worthy enough to be counted as part of his company, was pulled in front of the Goblin King. Shocked when the King demanded why they had brought the Halfling to his kingdom. He had been frozen when the Goblin King talked about vengeance, and thrown Bilbo to his goblins like a bone to a bunch of starving wargs. The hobbit that he had deemed too soft, to useless, that shouldn’t have ever left home. Here he was being tortured by the goblins, and barely making a sound. Refusing to tell the goblins of the purpose of the Company, even when Thorin had told him he had no place amongst them. With the gag in place Thorin couldn’t raise his voice, couldn’t demand the King to look at him and be recognized as King Under the Mountain. Couldn’t spare the kindly child of the West from the horror that was happening to him.
Bifur had screamed in rage at the sound of the first whimpers escape Bilbo’s lips. He was seeing red when the sounds of his screams echoed in Bifur’s mind. His whole body was shaking in anger and a need to protect the Halfling. His cousin Bofur was not doing much better as the usual cheerful toy maker was glaring and swearing behind his gag, a glint of murderous rage replacing the twinkle of joy. Bombur looked just as murderous as Bofur. Both brothers were friends of the hobbit. Bofur had been the first dwarf to befriend Bilbo enjoying his quick tongue and his descriptions of his home in the Shire. While Bombur had bonded with him during their preparation of the meals. The hobbit had always lent a hand to help prepare the food for the rest of the Company. He also didn’t make fun of Bombur’s great weight, even once complimenting him on it after he had explained that a large stomach was prized in the Shire
Kili and Fili were taking comfort in each other, Kili was hiding his head in the crook of Fili’s neck, wetting his brother’s shirt with unchecked tears. He couldn’t stand the sight of what was happening to Bilbo, Fili lay his head on top of his brother’s hair, his own tear falling into the brunette locks. Bilbo was a dear friend to the princes, acting like an older cousin or a friendly uncle. He turned a blind eye whenever he saw them pulling a prank during their stay in Rivendell, and didn’t blame them for what happened with the trolls. He didn’t treat them like princes, he treated them like normal dwarrows, allowing them to not have to pretend around him.
Ori was in much the same position as Kili, taking his comfort from Dori, with Nori sitting next to them both. Bilbo and he had many enjoyable moments on the trip so far, discussing books they had read in common. And different patterns of knitting as Bilbo shared his ability to knit. Nori was furious that none of the goblins came close enough to grab their knives from their dirty loincloths, his instincts screamed to help his fellow thief. He had taken Bilbo under his wing and showed him a few tricks of the trade during their journey, away from the watchful eye of Dwalin. He and Bilbo had a made a game of picking each other’s pockets fine tuning Bilbo’s skills. He struggled to reach one of his hidden knives that he had left, furious that it was in such an awkward place that he couldn’t get to it easily. Dori’s eyes focused on Ori, feeling shame as his great strength was failing him. He couldn’t break through his bonds; the goblins had tied their bonds with what looked like the elven rope despite the dirt and grime that had coated them, as there was no give to them like normal rope. He felt like he was failing the Halfling by unable to free himself and couldn’t bring himself to look at him.
Balin and Dwalin were composed as could be under the circumstances. Neither brother were unfamiliar with torture, and were able to keep their composer even as their blood sang with the urge to fight. Dwalin longed for Grasper and Keeper to blow through goblins to the machine and cut the chains that were slowly pulling the Halfling apart. Dwalin was a warrior and protector, he considered everybody in the Company under his protection even the thrice damned thief Nori. His sense of duty was screaming at him to do something, anything. Balin mind was blank, no plan of action could he think of. He was an advisor of kings, he could think his way out of hundreds of political shit storms without breaking a sweat but he could see no way out of this. The anger of the goblins was too great to reason with them for Bilbo’s release even if they were able to speak. Bilbo was a likeable chap, unlike certain kings, princes and thick headed brothers, Bilbo paid attention when Balin spoke of things and remembered them. He was a quick pupil, and had a mind much like Balin’s, having a knack of being a peace keeper between the members of the Company.
Oin was glad for once that his ear trumpet had been crushed under the goblin’s feet. He could tell by the way the lads mouth was moving that he was screaming in pain, but Oin could only hear a muffled version of the scream, and was thankful for it. Up until now he had been neutral on his standing with the hobbit, not having interacted with him too much. But he read the hobbit’s lips when he refused to tell the Goblin King of the dwarrows mission. Oin was beginning to respect the tiny hobbit and the stout heart that lay hidden inside him. Gloin on the other hand wasn’t as lucky as his brother and could hear every sound the hobbit was making, Gloin had taken a liking to the hobbit solely on the reason that he listened when Gloin went on about his wife and son Gimli. He listened with a smile on his lips and never complained like the rest of the Company. It was now that Gloin wished he had asked the Halfling about his own family, for as much as the Company talked about their own families and pasts. Gloin realized that while Bilbo talked about the Shire when prompted, the Company had heard little about his family and his life.
None had thought to ask the Halfling anything about himself in the months they had been traveling, their questions often asking about the Shire as a whole with answers that applied to all hobbits. They had been too busy wrapped in their own tales and the fact that Bilbo wasn’t a dwarrow. That while many of the Company had been warming up to him, many still thought he was to soft and weak and that had stopped them from truly accepting him as a member of the Company. Now as Bilbo lay suffering, the Company now saw they bravery and courage that had been buried in the hobbit come to the surface. That in that cavern Bilbo had earned the respect of all the dwarrows present and their loyalty.
It was a surprise when moments after Bilbo’s first scream that a white light filled the cavern, knocking the swarm of goblins down. The bone breaker and mangler were blown apart from the shock wave; Bilbo was thrown from the mangler becoming partly buried under scraps of wood. The distraction was enough for Nori to finally get a grip on the small knife that the goblins had missed in their search out and hurriedly cut his bonds. He had been maneuvering for the past five minutes to get the knife in his hand and with determination he flew from dwarf to dwarf cutting as fast as he could. He had over half the Company’s bonds cut before the figure that was responsible for the light stepped from the shadows.
Gandalf eyes looked at the dwarrows in horror as he took in their state, the small form of Bilbo escaping his notice at the moment. “Take up arms” he said breathlessly “Fight!Fight!” he yelled.
The dwarrow’s jumped into action a minute before the goblins shook themselves out of their state of shock. Nori had finished cutting the last of the bonds and the dwarrows grabbed their weapons that had been piled on the ground just an arm’s length away. Thorin grabbed for Orcrist and paused briefly at the sight of chain that had been torn from Bilbo’s neck. Quickly he grabbed both the chain and his sword before straightening up, shoving the chain in his pocket without another thought.
The goblins were no match for the anger of the dwarrow that had just watched one of their own be tortured. The goblins fell in droves. The Goblin King tried to slam his staff at Thorin, but Thorin met him with Orcrist and pushed the Goblin King back destroying his throne and falling off the side of the walkway.
“Follow me” yelled Gandalf looking at Thorin after he had beheaded a goblin. “Quickly.”
Thorin nodded at Gandalf,“Dwalin get Bilbo!” yelled Thorin slicing a goblin in half. Dwalin eyed swung his axes with deadly fury. Very quickly he had worked his way to what was left of the bone mangler. He located Bilbo quickly in the rubble of the machine of torture. As quickly and as gently as he could Dwalin picked Bilbo up. Dwalin was surprised when Bilbo opened his one good eye and looked up at him before closing it again. Dwalin quickly secured Bilbo in one arm, cradling him like a babe as Dwalin realized how small he was in his arms, grasping Keeper he fought his way back to where Thorin was waiting.
“Hurry” yelled Thorin as Gandalf and the rest of the Company took off down the side tunnel. Dwalin’s long legs carried him rapidly across the cavern following Gandalf as Thorin fell in behind him. They were pursued swiftly by the goblins, swarming over the walls and up the rickety wood work. Attacks came from every side. Dwalin knew that he would be better at the front of the Company warding off attacks and Bilbo would be safer in the middle of the group. Dwalin ran faster catching up to Dori.
“Dori!” Dori turned mid run to look at Dwalin. Muttering an apology at Bilbo, Dwalin tossed him at the other dwarf. “Catch!”
Dori catch the hobbit with ease, flinching as Bilbo cried out in pain. Dwalin felt bad but pushed it aside as he caught up to Nori in the front of the Company. Just in time to face at least thirty goblins rushing towards them. Looking around Dwalin saw a poll on the walkway, he turned to Nori yelling “Poll” Nori followed his lead hacking at the rope tying the poll to the walkway. Grabbing the poll Dwalin and Nori ran forward knocking the goblins off the walkway, with Dwalin leading with a yelled “Charge.”
They continued to run, the Company getting separated many more times as they ran, as well as Bilbo being tossed between Company member to Company member as they evaded recapture tossing him across gaps and walkways, ending up in Gloin’s, Balin’s, Kili’s and finally Bifur’s arms as they ran onto a walkway, only to stop suddenly as the Goblin King burst from the wood.
“You thought you can escape me!” he crowed, slamming his staff at Gandalf, barely missing him making Gandalf fall backwards into the dwarrows. “What are you going to do now Wizard?” he mocked.
Gandalf stood straight slamming his staff forward in the Goblin Kings eye making him cry out in pain before slicing into his stomach, making the fat goblin fall to his knees in pain. Looking at Gandalf he let out a “That will do it” before Gandalf cut his throat. The Goblin King falling face first onto the walkway weakened it and within moments had given away making it fall.
Bifur curled around Bilbo’s body as they fell on the separated piece of walkway. Falling and sliding deeper into the goblin’s caves picking up speed as they fell until the walkway was caught between two sides of the cavern and came to a crashing halt. Bifur wasted no time in crawling out, with Bilbo held tightly in his arms, beating even Gandalf.
“Well that could have been worse” remarked Bofur in a cheerful manner as he made to escape the walkway just as the form of the dead Goblin King fell on top of them.
“You got to be joking” cried out Dwalin from where he was pinned under all the rubble. Kili tried to snicker from where he was next to Dwalin until he looked up.
“Gandalf!” he cried, calling everyones attention up to see a swarm of goblins coming towards them, making it look like the wall was falling on top of them.
“There’s too many. We can't fight them” said Dwalin as he helped Nori from the rubble.
“There’s only one thing that can save us, Daylight. Quickly now” he cried pulling Oin from the rubble. They were quickly running again ignoring the calls of the goblins behind them. It wasn’t long before they saw the light of the fading sun in an opening. They ran through it as fast as they could not stopping as they ran through the trees leaping over rocks as they continued down the slopes of the mountain.
It wasn’t until Gandalf stopped did the company slow down. “Eight, nine, Fili, Kili, Bombur, Bofor. That makes thirteen. Where is our hobbit?” he demanded. He had missed the fact Bilbo was in Bifur’s arms as he ran past and hadn’t noticed during their run though goblin town the hobbit being thrown back and forth between the members.
“He is here” yelled Bofur from Bifur’s side. Gandalf turned with a small smile on his face, until he saw in what condition Bilbo was in. He quickly went to Bifur’s side, brushing the hair off of Bilbo’s face making him open his eyes.
“My dear boy” whispered Gandalf, with tears in his eyes. Bilbo tried to smile at the Wizard but ending up whimpering in pain, as the movement tugged at the brand the King had carved into his check. Oin made a move to go to Bilbo when the sound of wargs filled the air.
“Out of the frying pan” whispered Thorin as the sound of wargs echoed in the twilight.
“And into the fire” finished Gandalf looking in the direction the howls were coming from. “Run!”
Chapter 4: Protect
Notes:
Man these chapters refuse to get longer, so a shortest chapter it is.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Bilbo had been hardly aware during their run through the goblin tunnels. Only aware of the pain and muttered apologies that the dwarrows said to him before he was thrown from the safety of their arms into anothers. He knew he finally came to rest in Bifur’s arms as the sound of the Khuzdul filled his ears and the light of the dying sun warmed his face. Bilbo wanted to cry in relief to see the sun’s rays shining down on him. He had thought he would die down in the tunnels and never see the sky again; he wanted to weep at the sight of it.
He had been aware that they were running but he suddenly found himself unable to keep his eyes open, his strength all about spent. He hovered between conscious and unconsciousness, the pain was keeping him in this world but also trying to send him into darkness. He didn’t feel ashamed when whimpers escaped his lips when he was jostled. Let the dwarrows think what they wanted, he was beyond caring if he showed weakness or not.
The bouncing stopped quiet suddenly and he was aware that Gandalf was speaking, asking about him. He opened his eyes when he felt the air moved and he looked into the concerned and sad eyes of Gandalf, tears were gathered in the wizards eyes and he looked older then Bilbo had ever seen.
“Oh my boy” he murmured. Bilbo tried to smile at him, wanting to ask the wizard if this is what he meant when he said that he wouldn’t be the same when he returned. But the movement aggravated the brand on his cheek. He whimpered again, and he felt Bifur’s hands pull him tighter into the dwarfs chest.
His heart almost stopped when the first call of the wargs echoed in the air around him. His world lurched again as Bifur began to run again, the howls sounding closer by each second. His fear of the wargs snapped him into full awareness. Night was falling fast and the calls of the wargs were getting ever closer, until the monsters were running amongst them. Bifur’s chest rumbled against his back and suddenly he was being tossed into the air, he choked back a cry as an arm snaked out and wrapped itself under his armpits hauling him up into the trees.
“I gottcha Bilbo” yelled Dwalin, bringing the hobbit back to his chest. The rest of the Company managed to get into the trees, in the confusion Bilbo’s sword was dropped to the ground. The next few minutes was a scramble from tree to tree until they were on the last one on the cliff. Bilbo was still situated in Dwalin’s hold. The air seemed to tremble with rage as Thorin whispered a name too low for Bilbo to hear, but that didn’t stop him from hearing the answering reply in a language that sent shivers down his spine.
Gazing out from Dwalin’s protected hold he saw a huge white warg and on top of it a pale white orc, dread filled his stomach as he realized who it was. Azog the Defiler, the orc that killed Thror, the one who swore to wipe out the line of Durin. Wargs attacked the tree, Bilbo could hear branches breaking along with bark being ripped off, but the wargs couldn’t get them. A call from Gandalf in the tree had the dwarrows looking up to see him dropping pinecones set on fire on the heads of the wargs below them. The dry bush caught fire easily and soon a wall of flames separated them from the orcs. Many dwarrows gave a small sigh of relief, glad to have caught some time to plan on how they were going to get off the tree without dying from the fire and/or wargs. What they didn’t count on was the tree giving a mighty tremble and begin to fall over the side of the cliff. Bilbo gripped Dwalins shirt tightly as the world tilted, until Dwalin and he was suspended over the abyss, with Dwalin hanging on with one hand. Bilbo looked frantically at the other members of the Company glad to see that they were all still clinging to the tree and as he watched he saw Thorin push himself until he was standing on top of the tree.
Bilbo watched in horror through his one good eye as Thorin ran down the tree, his shield abreast as he raised his sword over his head charging at the giant albino orc. Dwalin’s body vibrated against Bilbo’s back as he roared Thorin’s name. His arm tightened painfully around him before Bilbo found himself thrown on top of the falling pine as Dwalin tried to scramble up beside him, howling in anger as the branch beneath him broke forcing him to focus on staying on the branch and not falling to the abyss below them. Bilbo gazed at the Company, all were looking at horror as Thorin engaged in battle with Azog. They were all trying to get up but all were in precarious positions and weren’t able to come to their kings aid, all expect for himself as he was perched on top of the tree.
His eyes traveled to his sword that had been dropped at the base of the tree in the chaos, and lay forgotten. His legs were shaky as he stood up, but thankfully he didn’t feel anything. Not his broken arm, the cuts, the bruises, not even the brand that the Goblin King had carved into his check. Everything was numb to Bilbo. With his vision swimming and the dull roar in the back of his head he managed to get to the bottom of the tree. Black spots danced in his vision as he bent down to pick up his sword. He blinked and took deep breaths; he didn’t have time to waste in fainting.
Drawling his sword from the sheath Bilbo glanced at where the fight was taking place. Thorin had managed to hold his own while Bilbo had made his way down the tree, but fighting the warg and Azog at the same time had taken its toll on the King. As he watched the warg managed to sneak past Orcrist and sink its teeth into the Kings side.
His feet moved him as quickly as they could, Thorin couldn’t die. Who would lead the Company, who else had the heart, the courage to retake Erebor? Whose shoulders were broad enough to take on the burdens this exiled king carried? Fili and Kili were still boys and neither had enough experience to take on their Uncle’s mantle. Only Thorin could lead this Company, only Thorin could give them hope.
His eyes zeroed in on the orc that was preparing to behead Thorin, as Azog sat on his warg to observe. Insulting Thorin further by having an underling behead him, as if the Dwarf king wasn’t worth the effort from the albino orc. Gripping the handle of his sword as tight as he could in his one hand he launched himself at the orc, driving his blade through the armor like hot butter. Pulling it out he stabbed the orc a few more times until he was certain it was dead. He pulled himself to his feet to stand in front of Thorin, struggling to stay on his feet as his body trembled.
Azog stared at the hobbit with his wide blue eyes, not believing that this tiny thing had just killed one of his generals. He growled jumping from his warg, stalking towards the creature with the mace in his hand. He could smell the fear rolling off the thing as it stood its ground. As he got closer the short dwarf creature swung its sword as best he could with one hand as the other hung limp at its side, but one block with his mace had it falling to the ground. Azog laughed and thrust his hand out snagging the creature by the neck. Wide frightened eyes stared into his blue ones, the hand scrambled at Azog’s trying to get lose. Azog just smiled showing off his pointed teeth as he took in the things face. It had been beaten badly half its face swollen with a brand cut into the check proclaiming it a slave.
A slave killing an orc, this thing wasn’t even worthy of dying by his hand, he turned to his warg. “Feed on his flesh”, throwing the thing over his shoulder for his white warg. Before continuing towards his prize as he ignored the pained cry as his warg planted a foot on the thing, preparing to take a bite. He barely made it a step before a war cry came calling out and Azog was forced to turn away from his prize to fight the dwarrows that came running at him.
Bilbo never thought he would end up as warg food, he thought for a moment that Azog would just crush his windpipe, but as the monster had caught sight of the brand he had been thrown away like garbage. The white warg’s claws pierced his sides as she held him down preparing to take a bite when a mattock slammed into her sides, the dwarrow descended on the remaining orcs and Bilbo found himself looking up into the concerned eyes of Bifur. He could see his mouth moving but Bilbo couldn’t focus on anything being said, a dull roar filled his ears and the pain returning with a vengeance as his body was overwhelmed with new injuries on top of the ones given to him in goblin town. Bilbo didn’t even try to fight the darkness that rushed to claim him; instead he surrendered and sank into oblivion.
Notes:
Hoped you enjoyed this chapter, sorry about taking so long but college is a drag. I'm still trying to decide how far I want to take this fic, my original plan was to take it to Beorn's and end it there but Bilbo in Mirkwood with no ring would be interesting to figure out how to work into this story...so I'll have to figure that out. Thanks again for reading!
Chapter Text
The attack on the remaining orcs and wargs was hectic, dwarrows threw themselves at the foes, fighting to save their King and hobbit. Bifur spun his boar spear with precision, slicing through orc armor with little effort. He fought side by side Bofur as they reached the white warg that was holding Bilbo down. Bofur gave a war cry slamming his mattock into the monsters side. But that didn’t even slow the monster down, before Bifur could run it through the warg was dancing away running to its Master. Azog roared at the dwarrows as he mounted his warg, giving the order to retreat.
Bifur knelt quickly by Bilbo’s side, the hobbit eyes were open and as Bifur watched they began to roll back into his head. Bifur began to tell him to keep awake, but it was useless as their hobbit lost unconscious. Bifur gathered him in his arms, swearing as something grabbed him and lifted him up into the air. Bifur twisted to see what had grabbed him, and gasped to see a giant eagle carrying him away.
He turned again to see the other members of the company being picked up by the giant birds. He had barely enough time to register this before the talons that was holding him opened and with a scream Bifur fell towards the earth, only to slam on the back of a different eagle. He winced when he heard a dull snap come from the area of Bilbo’s ribs and knew that another one of the Halflings ribs had been broken.
The eagles flew through the rest of the night carrying them far away from the cliff. Bifur checked Bilbo ever five minutes, though he never woke up. It was in the dawn of a new day that the eagles began to fly lover to the ground, heading for a rock that looked like a bear. The eagles dropped them off one and two at a time, Thorin being one of the first on the ground, Gandalf being a close second. Bifur was close to the end, he was never so thankful to have solid stone beneath his feet then at that moment. He gave the bird an incline of his head for thanks before heading towards the group. He arrived just in time to hear Thorin asking about Bilbo.
“It’s alright,” soothed Gandalf. “Bifur has him.” Thorin grunted, trying to get up, shaking off any hands that tried to help him. He limped to where Bifur was standing, looking down at the state Bilbo was in.
“Didn’t I say you would be nothing but burden, that you had no place amongst him” he whispered to the unconscious hobbit, gently running a hand over the copper curls. “I was never so wrong in my life.” He gently placed a hand over the Halflings, frowning over coolness of Bilbo’s skin. He looked closer at Bilbo, dread creeping into his chest. “Oin, he’s not breathing!” Oin pushed his way through the stunned Company, gently pushing Thorin away he gestured to Bifur.
“Put him down on the ground, now!”
Oin drew apart the remains of Bilbo’s shirt revealing his chest, with a small steadying breath; he brought his fist down on the Halflings chest. “Come on, you’re not getting out of this quest that easy.” He brought his fist down a few more times on Bilbo’s chest applying more of his strength. “Breathe, Mahal curse it! Breathe Bilbo!”
The other members of the Company hovered in a lose circle around the pair. A few looked at Gandalf to do something, but the wizard leaned heavily against his staff. Between the power surge and using his power to bring Thorin back from the edge had drained him. The Company seemed to realize this as they looked at the devastation written plainly across his face.
Fili and Kili were clinging to each other, fresh tears running down their face. Ori had his face buried in Dori’s chest, his shoulder quivering as he suppressed his sobs as Dori looked stony face as he watched Oin work, Nori was playing with one of his daggers the only sign he was worried as he blankly watched Oin. Gloin was settled next to his brothers shoulder, prepared to go into action if Oin got Bilbo to breathe again. The brother’s Ur were huddled close together. Bofur was wringing his hat in his hands tears streaming down his face. Bombur wasn’t in much better shape, but he was trying to comfort Bifur who was slowly withdrawing into his mind. He was rocking back and forth, staring down at his hands that were coated in blood along with the front of his shirt, Bilbo’s blood. Every member that had carried Bilbo had blood on their shirts and hands. The blood of an innocent, someone who had never killed before today, if he died it would be on the hands of the Company as much as it was the Goblins.
Thorin supported by Dwalin and Balin, had turned away from Oin as he slammed on Bilbo chest, sick at the sight. He couldn’t believe the Halfling, who was heavily tortured, who probably had more than one broken bone, had come to his defense when no other could. Had killed an orc, and stood between him and the Defiler and if Balin quiet murmuring could be trusted then almost warg food.
The seconds crawled by slowly as Oin pounded on Bilbo’s chest, and the Company began to despair. Oin’s pounding became more frantic, but his swears tempered down. It was a moment when Oin had his fist up prepared to bring it down once more when Bilbo’s eyes flew open and he took a big gurgled breath. His right eye was wide and unseeing, though Oin recognized panic.
“Gloin, Dwalin, grab his arms and legs. He might damage himself more if he tries to fight us!”
Gloin and Dwalin complied quickly, Gloin being careful not to damage his left arm further then necessary. Bilbo began to struggle weakly, whimpering and keening in pain from behind bloody lips.
“Bilbo, no one going to hurt you,” gently called Oin, as he begun to remove the rest of Bilbo’s ruined shirt to get better access to his wounds. Bilbo eye cleared as he returned to awareness. Though it closed back again as waves of pain washed over him. Screaming when Oin jostled his broken arm, the scream had all of the Company flinching. Oin murmured his apologies as he began to wrap the worst of Bilbo wounds cataloging every bruise, every cut, and every broken rib. As far as Oin could tell, he had at least 7 broken ribs, and a few more probably cracked. A number of cuts covered Bilbo’s torso, some of them deep enough to require stitching. His body shaking as he shivered, feeling a coldness seep into his skin, soft cloth was draped over his body as Oin hands finally left his body. He heard Oin talking to the rest of the Company.
“He’s lost a lot of blood, he might yet go into shock if where not careful. His left wrist is broken along with 7 ribs, more probably cracked, though were lucky and none have punctured his lungs. He has a score of lacerations and puncture wounds cover his torso and back, a lot of them need stitching. But I need to get them clean before I risk stitching them, who knows what infection he might pick up from the Goblins. He’s got a stab wound on his back, missed his kidney by two inches, but its shallow. He has extensive bruising all over his body. We need to get him off this rock, so I can treat him.”
Gandalf spoke up, “There is a river and shelter at the bottom of the Carrock, and a friend that doesn’t live to far away, we can rest for the night and make our way there in the morning.”
Thorin stood as straight as his ribs would allow. “Oin can Bilbo be handled without more damage?”
Oin sighed, “We have no choice Thorin, if we wait infection will set in. If that brand” spat Oin “Gets infected, there’s a good chance that it will migrate to his eye and that will blind him.”
Thorin clenched his jaw together, but nodded. “Who will carry him?”
There was a ting discussion between the stronger members of the Company before it was decided that Dori, being the strongest would be the one to carry Bilbo off the Carrock.
Oin supervised as Dori gently picked up the hobbit, muttering how he wished that he had a stretcher. He made sure the blankets were snug around the hobbit before nodding to Thorin, who nodded to Dwalin who lead the way down the stone steps of the Carrock. Dori ended up in the middle of the pack with Oin in front of him and Nori behind him, ready to steady him if he made a wrong step. Bilbo was quite as they marched, not making much of any sound except for the occasional whimper.
It was mid-morning when they reached to bottom of the Carrock as Gandalf called it. Just as Gandalf had said there was a river running through a meadow, it seemed like a peaceful place. A place the Company could rest without fear for a moment, the past twenty-four hours crashing down on them hard. But they knew they couldn’t rest, not until while they were in a better position.
“Uncle, I see a cave” called out Kili, using his archer eyes to spot a cave on the far side of the valley. Thorin managed to give his nephew a thankful nod.
“Well set up camp there.” With the incentive of a place to rest the Company picked up the place. The cave was not very deep and unoccupied and the floor was checked to make sure that this cave didn’t have a false bottom. Bedrolls were piled together to make a suitable place to rest Bilbo as they began to build camp. Wood was gathered and water put on to boil as supplies were checked.
Oin had Dori settle Bilbo down on the bedrolls. Bilbo’s eyes were glazed in pain, and a small fever had set in. Thankful that his kit hadn’t been lost in the Caves, he dug in it until he pulled out a small bottle, measuring out a tablespoon, he motioned for Dori to lean him forward. He spooned the mixture into Bilbo mouth and clamped his mouth shut so he was forced to swallow. The mixture worked fast and in a few minutes Bilbo was out like a light.
Oin started to set out the necessary supplies to treat Bilbo’s wounds, now that he didn’t have to worry about him being in pain. While waiting, he took off the rest of Bilbo’s cloths until he all he was in his small cloths. There were a number of cuts Oin hadn’t seen before, along with a few chunks of wood from where Bilbo landed in the remains of the bone mangler. He dug in his kit and pulled out a splint and wrapped Bilbo’s wrist, immobilizing it A pot of warm water was soon set down beside him, steam rising from it. Oin shucked his coat and rolled up his sleeves making sure to wash his hands before he started working. Taking a rag he began to clean Bilbo’s wounds making sure to disinfect them. Gloin came to sit beside him, handing him his tools as needed.
Some of the wounds had already a nasty red look to them already, especially the one on Bilbo’s check. This one gave Oin pause, it was made to scar, and Bilbo would have it the rest of his life. He rubbed a generous amount of ointment onto this and rest of the wounds. It was then that he began to stitch up the worst of the wounds. It was slow going but Oin worked steadily through the day working his way around Bilbo’s torso and down his legs. He thanked Mahal that there was only internal bruising and no bleeding. The last thing he did was wrap bandages around Bilbo’s torso to help the ribs.
Oin was exhausted by the time he was finished, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep like some of the other dwarrows were doing, but he had one more patient left to see. Making sure Bilbo was wrapped in as many blankets there was to spare. Pushing himself up from the ground he made his way to where his King was sitting by the fire, glaring into the flames.
“Your turn my King” he said, making Thorin startle, he hadn’t heard the medic walk up behind him. He tried to wave him off.
“I’m fine Oin, how is Master Baggins?”
Oin huffed and smacked the back of Thorin head, “I’m not leaving until I have examined you Thorin, so strip off the armor and hold still. Knowing better then to argue with Oin when he was in this sort of mood, Thorin complied stripping off his fur coat and armor and sat in his blue tunic as Oin began to examine him.
“You didn’t answer my question Oin” he said quietly, wincing as Oin pressed his hand against his side. Oin tsked.
“Cracked ribs, you lucky your armor took the brunt of the wargs attack I’ll wrap them.” Oin paused for a moment and continued more quietly. “Bilbo’s condition is getting worse Thorin. A fever’s beginning to set in, and many of his wounds begin to show sign of infection, especially the brand on his cheek. He’s also very weak from blood loss if the infection worsens Bilbo’s body might not have the strength to fight it off.”
Thorin hands clenched into fists, fear filling his heart at the thought of losing Bilbo. It was the same kind of fear he felt for Dwalin or Balin or Dis when their lives were in danger. Oin must have known what he was thinking because he clapped a hand to Thorin shoulder. “Don’t under estimate our burglar again, he has shown remarkable strength, we will know more tomorrow but right now you should get some rest it’s been a long day and that doctors order” he added on sternly.
Thorin scowled at Oin but did what he was told, all but Oin and himself were in the cave sleeping, Gandalf was standing watch blowing smoke rings into the afternoon. Thorin felt the last of the adrenaline finally leave his system making him bone dead tired. He sank down on top of his coat, already half asleep. But he was awake enough to realize that it is the bodies of his nephews that snuggle close to him looking for comfort from the horrors they had seen that day. Ignoring his ribs Thorin drew Fili and Kili close to him like he used to do when they were dwarflings and had a nightmare. Sending a prayer to Mahal that Bilbo would recover, Thorin fell into the realm of sleep listening to the orchestra of snores that filled the cave.
Notes:
I'm on a roll, two chapters in a week! Hope you enjoy! P.S does anyone else thinks it weird that in the movie they run out of the goblin caves it is sunset, and they climb the trees and get rescued its night, but when they land at the Carrock that its already daylight again? Well anyway next chapter they will arrive at Beorns and Thorin will learn what the family crests mean, and Gandalf becomes an jerk.
Chapter 6: Tempers Rise
Summary:
The Company arrives at Beorns, and Thorin has interesting conversations in the garden.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Bilbo was worse in the morning, his checks flush with fever. His eyes were glazed over as he looked up at Oin, who looked down at the hobbit with pursed lips. Many of the wounds that had just been red the night before were oozing yellow pus out, this worried Oin greatly, especially the one next to his eye. Bilbo’s harsh breathing was loud enough for Oin to hear without his ear trumpet, an ear trumpet that was squashed flat and would be useless until he somehow managed to fix it. His eyes turned to the front of the cave where the rest of his companions were after he kicked them all out to check Bilbo’s wounds. They were all making it look like they were busy but Oin could see their hearts weren’t in it and more often than not their eyes would come to rest on the cave waiting for him to come out, waiting for good news that he wouldn’t be able to give. Sometimes he hated being a healer in moments such as these. He paused in applying fresh ointments onto the wounds when Bombur came to the mouth of the cave, a bowl of broth he managed to whip up in his hands. Oin was grateful for Bombur thoughtfulness; food would help his exhausted, blood-loss body to fight against the infection. Oin motioned for him to come forward, the larger dwarf complied. Oin could see the kind eyes of the cook fill with tears as he took in the shape of Bilbo. Oin could see his mouth moving as he whispered something to Bilbo, but it was too soft for him to make out and the light to dim to read his lips. Grunting he eased Bilbo into a leaning position against him, while opening his mouth.
“You are going to have to feed it to him Bombur,” he said. Bombur nodded solemly and began to spoon the broth into Bilbo’s mouth. Oin whispered encouraging things into his ear, gently telling him to swallow, while also massaging his throat. Little by little they managed to get the bowl down him along with a cup of water. Oin could tell the food helped as Bilbo went to sleep as he wrapped him back into the blankets. Taking Bombur’s hand when he offered it, Oin eased his old body out of the kneeling position, and headed out to the front of the cave.
The Company all stopped what they were doing as Bombur and Oin walked out of the cave, mouths pressing into a thin line as they took in the grim look on Oin’s face. Even Gandalf stopped smoking his pipe to listen to what Oin had to say.
“He’s worse, his wounds are becoming infected despite my treatments. The goblin filth must have had something coating the blades, the infections in his blood. We need to leave for this friend’s house of yours Gandalf as soon as possible” explained Oin, “Which means I will need one of you to carry Bilbo, sense making a litter would just waste time and slow us down.”
Thorin nodded, “Then we shall not waste any more time, ready your things we leave in less than five minutes” he ordered. The dwarrows were quick as they broke down their camp, weapons were strapped on and bags were packed. Oin went back into the cave to prepare the hobbit for travel. He wished they had time to carry him by litter, he was most worried about Bilbo’s ribs, if jostled the right way, there was the potential of one piercing his lungs. The best he could do was make sure his sides were wrapped, turning to the wrist that he had put in a splint he used a spare belt to strap it his Bilbo’s chest to immobilize it. Wishing that he had more supplies he checked the bandages one last time, he wrapped Bilbo in blankets adding extra padding to prevent jostling. Not noticing Thorin entering until his hand came to rest on his shoulder.
“Oin is he ready to be moved?” he asked loud enough for Oin to make out.
Oin sighed, his face lined with worry, “Yes, the sooner we get to Gandalf’s friends the better chance he has.”
Thorin nodded, “Kili” he called, his nephew coming at his call.
“Yes Uncle?” he asked, his face void of the usual playful smile that he wore.
“Carry Bilbo, we will give the others who carried him yesterday a rest. I want you to notify me when it becomes too much and Fili will relieve you.”
Kili looked fearful for a moment, afraid of hurting Bilbo further, but he just nodded and knelt next to Bilbo. Oin carefully lifted the hobbit and placed him gently in Kili’s arms. “Keep him steady Kili, less jostling the better. Do you understand?” Kili nodded still looking afraid.
“Let us not delay longer” called Gandalf’s voice from outside the cave. With that the Company set off moving as fast as they could, with Gandalf in the lead and Kili in the middle of the ring of dwarrow that surrounded him. They moved all through the day, never resting. Bilbo was switched half-way through the morning from Kili’s arms to Fili’s. Many times the Company would look towards the bundle and the sense of urgency would fall upon them again and they would hurry on faster. It was past noon when the Company slowed to a walk, Gandalf seeming to look for something that only he knew about.
The trees were thick when a loud voice suddnely boomed from beside them. “Who trespasses on my land,” making the dwarrows jump most reaching for their weapons as the biggest man they had ever seen came out from the trees. He had huge arms, and an enormous black beard that reached his chest that any dwarf would be proud of, in his hands was a large ax. His eyes swept over the Company taking in their weapons, and their small stature.
“Peace Master Beorn, we mean you no harm, we have traveled for a long time and ask for your help” called Gandalf stepping forward towards the man.
“Who are you” asked the man Gandalf had called Beorn glaring at the Company, ax clenched tight in his hand. Gandalf looked amused at the situation they had found themselves in, his plan of reaching the house and approaching in groups of two was defiantly off the table now. He quickly sobered and bowed his head to the man.
“I am Gandalf the Grey, and this is dwarrow Company of Thorin Oakenshield. You know my cousin Radagast and we have come to your lands seeking shelter and medical help, a few of our members were hurt during an attack by orcs and goblins.”
Beorn peered over the group, his eyes gliding over the bundle in Fili’s arms, besides the blood stained clothing he could see nothing wrong. “Your Company seems fine Wizard.”
“It is not us that we are worried about Master Beorn” called Kili, ignoring the glare his Uncle sent him for speaking out of turn, from his brother’s side. He pulled the blanket away from Bilbo’s face. “It is our burglar that is in need of your help.” Beorn took menacing large steps toward the Company and their hurt burglar. It was only Gandalf’s furiously shaking head that they didn’t attack the man as he stopped in front of the brother and leaned forward to look at Bilbo, though Bifur clenched his spear and looked like he would jump forward at any moment to take a jab at Beorn if he dared touch Bilbo. A look of surprise and shock crossed Beorn’s face as he saw what was under the blanket. Turning he looked at Gandalf and Thorin.
“You must have quite a story to have a hobbit this far from the Shire, and exchange for my help the payment will be this story” The Company looked to Thorin, who nodded in agreement, Beorn seemed to study him for a bit before nodding himself. With a follow me motion he walked off, not turning around to see if they were following him.
They followed the giant man through fields full of flowers, past bee hives with huge bees, to a house that compared to the man was just the perfect size, to the dwarrows it was huge and filled with dogs and sheep that began to walk among them holding trays and bowls.
“Please help yourself to some food,” said Beorn, before motioning to Fili. “Master Dwarf if you would follow me I have a place where you can treat the hobbit in privacy.”
Fili and Oin followed Beorn farther into the house, till they came to a room with a giant bed. “You may tend to him here, I will supply you with anything you require.”
Oin looked up at the man, “Thank-you Master Beorn” he muttered as he began to remove Bilbo’s old bandages as Fili left the room to join the others. Beorn stayed behind observing Oin work, his eyes darkening as he took in every bruise and cut on the hobbits body. The fever had gotten worse, since the morning, Bilbo was now muttering as Oin cleaned the wounds with the warm water one of the dogs had brought, tears running down his face. As Oin wiped down his fevered body, Bilbo hand shot to grab Oin wrist, he began to talk in an unknown tongue to Oin, clearly begging him for something.
“Shh Bilbo everythings okay” tried to calm Oin not wanting Bilbo to aggravate his wounds further, as Bilbo continued to struggle. A very large hand came to rest on Bilbo shoulder, Oin glanced at Beorn as he began to speak in the same strange language. The effect was immediate as Bilbo calmed under Oin hands. Oin turned questionably to Beorn, but the large man had already left the room. Sighing he returned to Bilbo taking supplies from the dogs and sheep that entered the room with supplies.
The Company outside was unnaturally quiet as they ate the honey and bread that was served to them, though they could not enjoy it as they worried for Bilbo. As soon as they finished eating they all drifted to the main room, sitting around the fireplace, or else wondering to where Beorn had told them where they could put there packs and rest. Thorin took a moment to observe his Company. The atmosphere in the room was suffocating; Thorin could feel the guilt hanging in the air. He made his way from the room, going out to Beorn’s gardens. The fields full of flowers as giant bees flew through the air. Thorin couldn’t help but think that Bilbo would love it. It reminded him of the gardens of the Shire that he had seen the morning they had left. Sneaking out of the hobbits house like burglars themselves, his Company hadn’t even thanked him for the food and accommodations. Thorin stuffed his hands in his pockets as he made his way to a bench on the edge of the garden, confused as he felt something cool brush against his fingers. Sinking onto the bench he brought the object out. For the first time since Goblin Town he drew out the chain that the goblins had torn from the burglar’s neck, shocked for a moment having forgot he had stuffed it there when they were escaping. The chain itself was simple ordinary silver of low grade, what was hanging from it wasn’t.
Two twin pieces of gold dangled from the chain, as Thorin examined them he could tell immediately that they were made of very fine quality of gold. That itself was strange but upon closer examination Thorin was surprised to find etchings made in the gold, that had almost been smashed flat but he could faintly see what was there. Flowers and leaves framed the outer edges, while animals took up the middle; one was a skunk, the other a wolf. The medallions were further damaged from the Goblin Kings weight even as he examined them closer the one with the skunk, which had a crackdown the middle, split apart under his gentle handling, leaving three pieces of gold in his hand.
He remembered clearly one day on the road when his sister-sons had asked what Bilbo would do with his share of the treasure, his answer had shocked him.
“I care naught for treasure; we hobbits care for food, drink, and good company. We care little for riches that you think of, but for the riches the earth can provide when treated with respect and the grace of the Green Lady. So I’m afraid I have very little idea what I would do with such a fortune.”
Thorin had often wondered why Bilbo had come with them if he didn’t seem to want or need the treasure, since his hobbit hole had been so richly furnished. He had no reason to follow them, no reason to stay silent when the Goblin King questioned. But he had, he had stayed silent and even saved Thorin’s life, even though he was seriously wounded. He had been so wrong, so blind to the brave and strong heart that the hobbit had.
Pulling himself out of these thoughts he focused on the problem at hand. What was so important with these two pieces of gold, why did the Goblin King seem to know what exactly they were?
He thought back to what the goblin had shouted when they first found the chain. Took, he called Bilbo a Took. That word tickled Thorin’s memory of a conversation between Bilbo and Gandalf.
“The world is not in your books and maps. It's out there.”
“I can't just go running off into the blue! I am a Baggins of Bag End!” Bilbo had insisted.
“You are also a Took. Did you know that your Great-Great-Great-Great Uncle Bullroarer Took was so large he could ride a real horse?”
“Yes.”
“Well he could! In the Battle of Greenfields, he charged the Goblin ranks. He swung his club so hard it knocked the Goblin King's head cleaned off and it sailed a hundred yards through the air and went down a rabbit hole. And thus the battle was won and the game of golf invented at the same time.”
It had been shortly after Bilbo had fainted that he and Gandalf had had this conversation. Thorin had barely paid attention, instead of scoffing at the dollies and other small things in the hobbit hole that made him think that their hobbit was soft.
“I was going to ask you how the Goblins found out who Bilbo was, but it seems like you have already found the answer” spoke Gandalf coming up behind Thorin scowling down at the pieces of gold.
Thorin’s hand closed his fist around them, and turned to glare at Gandalf. “You knew that he would be in danger if we came across Goblins didn’t you” demanded Thorin outraged. It made sense, the Goblins had a vendetta against Tooks for what Bilbo’s ancestor did to the Goblin King, and these pieces of gold had been enough for them to identify Bilbo as part of the Took family.
Gandalf drew to his full height, shadows once again wrapping around him. “Do not question me Thorin son of Thrain. If you had waited for me at the base of the mountains for me instead of going forward you wouldn’t have had any mishaps with Goblins. And I wasn’t aware of the extent of the grudge the Goblins carried against hobbits. I believed the story of the hobbits defeat over the Goblins had died from goblin memory by now. That fool boy should have listened to me when I advised him to leave his crests at home.”
Thorin’s temper rose, “You are blaming Bilbo for this Wizard! Do you think he wanted to be tortured by Goblins!”
The shadows around Gandalf grew as he scowled down at Thorin, trying to get him to back down. “No I am not blaming Bilbo for what happened; only that if he had listened the damage might not have happened.”
Thorin puffed up as tall as he could, not backing down an inch. “But you are insinuating that if Bilbo had listened to the Great Gandalf the Grey nothing would have happen, but since he didn’t he had it coming! Besides when did you give him this valuable piece of advice Tharkun? Was it before or after you told him that thirteen dwarrows were coming into his door. Was it when you helped him pack so he would be prepared? Or did you wake him up early in the morning before we left him? Because it seems to me that night Bilbo was so taken aback he fainted, you threw us at him with no warning! Even I could tell that he was too stressed to take any advice you gave him especially when you did speak with him you did so in your blasted riddles” roared Thorin.
The air seemed to fizzle around them as Gandalf glared down at Thorin, but Thorin wasn’t backing down. Gandalf had mistreated the hobbit just as much as the dwarrows had, even more so. With a huff, Gandalf turned away, muttering in a foreign language as he brought out his pipe. Thorin growled at the retreating figure, before giving the bench he had been sitting on a strong kick with his boots. He was going to kick it again to let off some more frustration when he heard a quiet chuckle fill the air. Thorin snapped around prepared to yell at one of the Company only to pause as he saw their host looking at him. He wondered how he could have missed someone so large coming towards him.
“Master Beorn, forgive me I didn’t see you standing there” stated Thorin giving a small nod of his head in greeting. The giant of the man waved his worries away.
“No worries Master Dwarf, I was just curious on what all the shouting was. I have heard many things about the Grey Pilgrim, about how wise he is.” Thorin snorted at this and turned away gazing again at the gold in his hand, his blood still boiling. “But, Gandalf is very foolish if he thinks that a hobbit would willingly leave their family crests behind, it would be like a dwarf leaving his home without any braids or beads to show the world who he is” rumbled Beorn from behind the dwarf, having walked close to see over his shoulder. “Or a wizard leaving behind his staff, they are a part of who they are.”
Thorin turned and looked up at Beorn, “You know about these?”
Beorn gave a rumbling chuckle, and nodded. Thorin gave an exasperated sigh and sat back down on the bench, it would seem everyone knew what he had in his hand except for him. Beorn patted his shoulder and sat down next to Thorin on the bench, making Thorin having to balance on the edge as Beorn took up most of the space.
“I knew hobbits back when they were wanderers; in fact I was the one to help them when the ideas of crest came about. I told them of what different animals stood for and helped incorporate them into the design. These crests are a hobbits heritage; it helps them to remember who they are and where they have come from. Hobbits can trace their families back into the Second Age if they wanted to just by following the crests, which helps since hobbits have very large and extensive families.”
Thorin was surprised, “So these flowers and animals having meaning to a hobbit?”
Beorn nodded, “Each flower and animal means something, they represent what a family embodies.”
Thorin nodded, “So what do these mean?”
Beorn gave another rumbling chuckle, “That is something that you will have to ask the hobbit Master Dwarf.” Giving the Dwarf a pat on the back that nearly had him sent him sprawling off the bench, Beorn started to leave. “I will tell you that you have one interesting hobbit on your hands. I expect my payment later tonight” he called leaving Thorin alone to ponder his words.
Notes:
Hoped you liked!
Chapter 7: Secerts Revealed
Summary:
The Company gets some good news and learns more about their hobbit.
Notes:
I've decided to tweek Bilbo's age in this fic, instead of being fifty he's ten years younger at forty and decided to give him an pain filled past. I like to think because of Bilbo's past that he was able to identify with the dwarves more and was part of the reason why he joined them.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Thorin stayed longer in the garden trying to sort out his jumbled thoughts, before long the sun began to set and it drove him back inside the house. The Company were in much the same positions as they were when Thorin had slipped out. It was with a heavy heart that Thorin also realized that Oin was still in the other room with Bilbo. More than a few eyes looked up as he took his place beside Dwalin.
“Any change?” he asked Dwalin, though he could guess the answer.
Dwalin grunted, “Oin hasn’t come out yet so no change. Though we did hear a bit of yelling out in the garden”
Thorin scowled, “I might have had a slight disagreement with the wizard and forced him to realize a thing or two.”
Dwalin snorted, “Not the wise Gandalf, what could a dwarrow teach that elf-loving wizard?”
“Only that Gandalf treated Bilbo as bad as we did, he basically blamed Bilbo for what happened to him.”
That caught the attention of every dwarrow there as they all yelled “What!”
Thorin sighed and went to pinch the bridge of his nose as all eyes were upon him, stopping himself as he realized he still had a cut there. He pulled out the pieces of gold out of his pocket and held them were everybody could see them. “I picked these up when we were escaping the goblins, there twin solid pieces of gold. Every hobbit has them, they signify what two clans they are from. Before we left Bilbo’s house, Gandalf had a conversation with him about one of his ancestors, Bullroarer Took.”
“Aye I heard him speak of that” murmured Balin his eyes growing wide in understanding.
“What, what was the conversation about?” demanded Kili from his place beside Fili.
Thorin glared at Kili until he was silent again. “Bullroarer fought in a battle called Greenfields; Gandalf said that he took off the head of the Goblin King. This is what the Goblin King was talking about when he mentioned revenge. Apparently Bilbo was aware of the grudge that goblins carry when he ran out of his door, Gandalf told him to leave these at home. But Beorn has informed me that these are the equivalent of hair beads, it’s their heritage and no hobbit would dare leave them behind.”
There were more exclamations of outrage among the dwarrows, until Dwalin roared at them to be quite. In the uproar none had noticed Oin come into the room.
“Bilbo’s fever broke, his condition is stable for now, and given enough rest he should make a full recovery.” A great cheer went up from the dwarrow as they ran forward to slap Oin on the back. That had him scowling, “I said he needed rest, and to get rest he needs quiet so you all need to shut up.”
The hall fell deathly quiet at those words, but it didn’t stop the smiles that were plastered on the dwarrow’s faces. “Someone get this dwarf an ale” cried Gloin
“No ale Master Dwarf but I do have mead” came the booming voice of Beorn, “I am happy to hear that your little friend will make it.”
“It was because of your kindness Master Beorn, without your supplies I wouldn’t have been able to save him” said Oin, not afraid to admit that his skills as a healer wouldn’t have been enough to save Bilbo. Beorn inclined his head and smiled as his dogs and sheep came into the room bearing mugs of mead that was given to each of dwarrows and a large one was given to Beorn. The mood was joyous with the news that their hobbit would recover. It was during this merriment that Beorn demanded that his payment be paid.
“I think it’s about time for my payment” murmured Beorn loud enough to be heard by Thorin. Thorin took a large drink before he settled down into his tale. He recountered everything from Bag End to the present leaving nothing out. During the telling Fili and Kili had snuggled up next to him as he admitted that the Company hadn’t been welcoming to Bilbo as they should have been. He struggled to keep his voice calm as he told Beorn what accrued in Goblin Town. The Company was deathly silent as they listened to Thorin, a few wiping tears from their face as they relived what happened under the Misty Mountain.
It was after Thorin ended his tale that the Company demanded Oin if he was sure if Bilbo would recover, their fears coming back with the memories. Oin was happy to tell his companions that Bilbo would recover from his wounds. Though thinking back he remembered a question that he had for Beorn.
“He’s been calm ever since you talked to him Master Beorn, though might I enquire what you said to him?” asked Oin.
Beorn took a long drink of mead before he answered Oin, “He was crying out for his Mother in Hobbitish, I told him she would be there soon.” The happy mood that had been recovered, vanished instantly as all eyes turned towards the back of the house. A thought hit a lot of the Company, how young was Bilbo? When they first meet him in his Hobbit hole he acted like a grumpy old man but as they journeyed he seemed to get younger, his eyes sparkling with curiosity and awe over many sights that they had seen with enough energy to keep up with the whirlwinds known as Fili and Kili. They also remembered how empty the big hobbit hole was, did Bilbo have anyone in his life?
A voice spoke from the darkness to answer there unspoken question "Bilbo's been alone for a long time" said Gandalf stepping into the light, ignoring the glares that were sent his way by everybody in the room. "His One died in his childhood, drowned in the Brandybuck River by a flash flood. His father fell ill when he was just a tween and passed on shortly afterwards. His mother was killed in the Fell Winter a few years before his Majority, when they were trying to reach his grandparents’ house in Tookbourgh. He had to fight his father's relative to keep his home while he was still in mourning, since he was not considered an adult yet. They argued that he had no need of it since he would never have children, Bilbo refused to desecrate the bond he had with his One by taking another, something many hobbits do if their other half die young. It was only the fact it was Belladonna's house, since Bungo had given it to her as a wedding gift that Bilbo managed to keep it. Only someone from his Mother's side could legally take Bag End, and the Old Took forbade any of his sons or daughters to do this. Bilbo's Grandfather was his last ally, and protected him from his greedy relatives until he reached his majority when they couldn’t legally do anything. Of course like the norm in Bilbo’s life the Old Took died a week after his birthday the oldest living hobbit in history, I often think that he only held on that long because of Bilbo.”
The dwarrows were shocked at what Gandalf was revealing, “He has two people that he considers family, his cousin Drogo Baggins, and his cousin Primula Brandybuck. Though he rarely sees them since they don’t live in Hobbitton, and neither judge him for his quirks that come from being half Took and half Baggins. He tolerates the rest of his relations, a skill he’s perfected, you might have noticed it when he put up with thirteen dwarves in his house, and though he was flustered he was polite.”
“So how long has Bilbo been alone?” Asked Bofur gently setting down his empty mug.
Gandalf stroked his beard in thought, “Elven years, he had just turned 29 when the Fell Winter happened. He’s forty now.”
That statement settled something inside Thorin, as he gazed down at the crests in his hand he knew what he could do to repay Bilbo. He turned to Ori.
“Ori can you sketch this out onto a piece of paper as best as you can?” asked Thorin handing the pieces of gold to Ori. Ori took the gold and examined them closely and then nodded.
“I can have replicate sketches within the hour Thorin” said Ori confidently. The others were curious at what Thorin had in mind.
“What are you going to do Thorin?” asked Balin.
Thorin just gave his advisor a gentle smile, before turning to their host. “Master Beorn, do you have a forge that I might be able to use in the morn?”
The Man looked amused but nodded, “I will show you it in the morning Master Dwarf, but now I must be off. Remember stay inside during the night no matter what you hear outside” with that Beorn left the dwarves to their own devices and walked out the front door.
Thorin felt all of the Companies eyes on him as he stood, most waiting for an explanation but Thorin was not going to tell. He left the living room intending to go to the room Beorn had told them that they could rest when he veered at the last second and headed to the room that held Bilbo. The room was mostly dark except for a few candles on the bedside table. One of the many dogs that Beorn had around his house lifted his head from where he was lying beside the hobbit, guarding him while also keeping him warm. Thorin nodded at the dog and made his way to the chair that was beside the bed and gently sat down, minding his injuries as he took in the condition Bilbo was in.
The hobbits curls hung limply around his pale face, almost matching the color of the bandages that covered part of his face and a stark contrast to the bruises that covered the rest of the hobbits face. His breathing was soft and shallow but easier than it was the night before. As Thorin watched Bilbo’s calm face began to scrunch up as small noises escaped his throat his one good hand clenching at the sheets that covered his body. Thorin knew a nightmare when he saw it his nephews prone to them when they were younger and after their father had died, and Thorin did the only thing that he knew how to soothe nightmares. Singing a dwarf lullaby lightly he began to brush Bilbo’s hair off his forehead gently, his ministrations worked as the sounds stopped and the tension left Bilbo’s limbs as his dreams turned away from the nightmares.
Thorin left as soon as he was sure the nightmares were over, knowing that his decision was a right one. For someone who risked everything for them, he would repay that debt with the guarantee that Bilbo was never alone again.
Notes:
Was going to wait until after I saw the movie to update but decided against it. Though I am going to wait until after the movie to decide if the next chapter will be the last one, or if I will continue further, cause at this point I have no idea how to get them through Mirkwood and beyond without making it sound like a repeat of others stories I have read.
So I hoped you enjoyed this chapter!
Chapter 8: Acceptance
Summary:
Thorin creates something and Bilbo wakes up.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Thorin woke up late that morning, feeling better than before. He wasn’t surprised to find as he glanced around that he was the only one in the room. Groaning he stretched his sore muscles, careful of his healing ribs. It had been awhile since Thorin had had a full night rest with no worries to plague his dreams, he felt very refreshed. Following the sound of voices he found most of his company sitting around the dining table their moods greatly improved from the day before.
Fili was the first one to spot him, “Uncle it’s good to see awake” he called. The others in the Company greeted their King as he took a place next to Dwalin. A plate of bread and honey were put in front of him as soon as he sat down along with a mug of milk.
Thorin proceeded to eat his breakfast while listening to the chatter around him, when he was down he looked at Oin. “Hows Bilbo today?” he asked.
“Resting peacefully, no new signs of infection, his body is running a slight fever but it’s nothing besides his body still working on removing whatever infection that still in his blood from the goblin blades. I expect him to wake sometime later today.”
Thorin nodded thinking, “How long until he is ready to travel on?”
Oin shifted in his seat and the others quieted down waiting to hear the answer. “The wounds and infection took a toll on him, not to mention his broken wrist and ribs. Two, maybe three weeks before he is well enough to travel onto Mirkwood with us.”
Many of their Company held their breath, expecting Thorin to lose his temper at losing so much time. Bifur and Bofur expected they would have to fight with the King to make sure they didn’t just leave Bilbo behind so that they could continue on. They were shocked at the calm tone Thorin answered Oin with.
“Until Bilbo is well enough to continue we will stay here, giving us a chance to rest and stock up on our supplies while also making repairs to our damaged equipment” said Thorin setting down his cup.
The Company relaxed, “Good, that will give us enough time to fashion Bilbo some new cloths” said Dori, stirring his tea “Since all his was lost in Caves, can't have him going into Mirkwood in nothing but his skin.” Next to him Ori shivered as he remembered Bilbo’s jacket and waistcoat being torn from him and the sounds of flesh hitting flesh as the goblin’s beat him. As if sensing his brother’s thoughts, Dori gently patted his hand, drawling him away from the dark thoughts.
Not a few moments later the door opened and the shape of their host framed it. “Master Thorin I believed you wished to use my forge” called Beorn. Thorin nodded and turned to Ori.
“Have you made the drawling of Bilbo’s crests?” he asked the young scribe. Ori quickly dug pulled out his notebook and handed the drawling he made last night to Thorin along with the two crests.
“Yes, I managed to get the details just as you asked” he said quickly as Thorin studied the two and then gave Ori a nod that had his blushing slightly.
“Excellent Ori,” stashing the drawling in his pocket, he stood with the crests in his hands and followed the giant man out the door. Beorn showed Thorin his forge, for a moment Thorin thought he would have to wrestle with Beorns large tools to accomplish what he had in mind. But to the dwarf’s astonishment Beorn produced some tools that were just about the right size, quirking an eyebrow at the bear man he got an answer.
“Hobbits”
Thorin nodded, it would seem Beorn had once been quite friendly with Hobbits before they moved West, friendly enough to know their language and have their sized tools. Tying his hair back, prepared taking the pieces of gold he put them in each in a separate bowls and placed them over the fire. Thorin tended the fire, slowly building it up not rushing the heating process but allowing it to become hotter gradually. Bilbo’s crests began to melt under the steady heat until the bowls were filled with liquid gold. Taking out his mold he carefully poured the gold into it until not one drop was left. Setting them off to the side allowing them to cool and harden, Thorin decided to make use of the forge and started to do repairs on the equipment that had been damaged in the caverns. Dwalin soon came out and worked side by side with Thorin, which brought the memories of their wandering years when both dwarves would go from town to town and be smiths for Men. By lunch time they had completed the repairs and Dwalin looked with curious eyes as Thorin picked up the mold and two gold hair beads fell into his palm.
“So that was yer plan” he said, “Most of the others thought you would melt them down and recast them back into their original state.”
Thorin rolled the beads around in his hand, before looking back at Dwalin. “I briefly thought of that originally before we learned about Bilbo’s past last night. It was cruel of me to treat him the way I did these past few months of travel. Yet despite that he refused to tell the Goblin King about our quest, with more courage than I have seen in many dwarves, he didn’t break didn’t cower and beg for his life. He stayed silent when most would be screaming for mercy. I find myself fearing for him, the same fear I feel when Dis, Fili, Kili, and Balin are in danger. He has proven himself over and over during this quest and I’m claiming him as kin to repay him for his sacrifices and so that he will have family and not be alone again.”
Dwalin was shocked; it was about unheard of for a dwarf to adopt someone into their family that wasn’t also a dwarf. When Dwalin saw the beads, he had thought Thorin was going to declare Bilbo a dwarf-friend, but to adopt him as kin was something else. Yet, Dwalin couldn’t help but feel the same things for their burglar, the fear that he reserved for family had often sprung in his chest when their burglar was in harm’s way. He also knew many of the others in the Company felt the same way, especially the Ur and Ri clans. He smirked at Thorin at that thought, making the King look at his questionably.
“Well my King that might not go over so well, I can think of a few that would protest this decision, on the grounds that they welcomed the hobbit first, myself included.”
Thorin couldn’t help but smile at his friend, and his support that he was giving to Thorin’s idea and basically saying that the others would most likely support him as well. Packing up his items, he made sure to put out the fire before he and Dwalin left the forge and made their way back to Beorns house. Everybody was around Oin as they walked in, before either could ask Bombur spoke up.
“Bilbo woke up briefly, but he fell back to sleep soon afterwards.”
Thorin was glad at the news and eyes roamed until he found he was looking for.
“Nori you have skill in engraving do you not?” asked Thorin sitting down next to the dwarf.
Nori smirked twirling his knife in his hand, “I’ve been known to do a little here and there, why do you ask?”
Thorin set down the piece of paper that Ori had drawn on and placed it before the dwarf and then took out the beads. “Can you engrave the original pictures onto these?”
Nori frowned and stashed his knife back into his hiding place, taking the beads he studied them and then nodded. “I think that their big enough to be able to fit the design on them, though they will not be quite the same. I’m guessing this is why you wanted to use Beorn’s forge.” It didn’t escape either of their notices that most of the Company had come up behind the two to see what was in Nori was studying all surprised to see the two beads in the thief’s hands.
Thorin cleared his throat and acknowledged the rest of the Company, “I have come to a decision, I owe Bilbo a great debt for saving my life from Azog and for his loyalty in the Caverns and upon learning of his past I have decided to repay him by declaring him Kin.”
He was prepared for the outburst that followed as one loud voice tried to over talk the others. He was amused at the arguments that was taking place, most were arguing that they had the right to declare Bilbo kin, while others argued that they had more right than the others. Thorin couldn’t help but chuckle which seemed to cut through the chatter and the dwarves fell silent.
“From what I can gather, you agree with the idea, and I don’t think our burglar would mind all of us claiming him as kin.”
The Company was peaceful for a second before new arguments broke out. Mostly over how their claim would be recognized by other dwarrows. Most agreed that Bilbo wouldn’t want to walk around with thirteen braids claiming him as kin, and the bad luck that would come from it. Bifur stood slightly back thinking when the perfect idea struck on how to end the squabbling.
Bifur wondered how he would get his point across fast, since trying and failing to get his cousins attention hadn’t worked. Bifur’s eyes landed on the paper that held the designs. Snatching the paper off the table he grabbed the charcoal pencil from behind Ori’s ear and quickly drew on the paper before shoving it in Bofur hands. Bofur looked at what was given to him by his cousin and a bright grin soon covered his face. “This is brilliant Bifur, Nori can you add this to the beads” called Bofur waving the paper around. The paper was snatched by said dwarf and studied before passed to the king for approval. It was with a nod that it was given and the paper was passed around and soon all the Company was nodding in approval.
Nori pulled out his set of lock picks, fiddling with ends they soon revealed a set of engraving tools. “Gloin your jewelers eye if would please.” From out of his pocket Gloin passed his jewelers eye that allowed Nori to get a magnification of the beads. Carefully he began to work making sure to get every little detail on the pieces of gold.
---------------------------------------------------------p-------------------------------------------
Bilbo woke slowly not wanting to leave to cocoon of warmth he felt himself surrounded in. In his half dream state it felt like he was in his bed back in Bag End and not on an adventure. He made move to roll on his side to enjoy the dream before he was woken up for breakfast by the ever cheerful Bofur. A sharp pain from the movement had him gasping as he woke up completely, the memories of the caverns and the goblins came rushing back. Something beside him shifted and he felt something warm and wet on his check and whine. Slowly he came out of his memories and focused on a dog that was lying next to him and licking his check. It whined again and Bilbo took stock of what was around him. He was in a bedroom in a giant bed that could fit four more hobbits easily. The sun was streaming through a window and lit the whole room up. There was a table beside the bed and was filled with bandages and bottles. The sight of them had him remembering that he had been tortured. Now that he thought of it a low throb of pain started to build in him his muscles screaming as he tried to move them. His left arm felt heavy and looking down he could see it wrapped in a cast, and the feeling of tightness around his chest told Bilbo that his ribs had been wrapped. He tried to ignore the bandages that was below his left eye not wanting to think about the brand that had been carved there.
A yip from the dog had him bringing his attention back to it and he wondered where he was and where was the rest of the Company. He prayed that they were all alright, he didn’t notice the dog leave his side until the sound of many feet heading his way and his door being thrown open making him startle as the Company flooded in the room.
Upon seeing him awake Fili, Kili, and Ori called “Bilbo” and raced to the bed climbing into the spot the dog had been laying as they took care not to jostle him.
“It’s good to see you awake Bilbo we’ve been worried” said Kili eyes shining brightly as he looked down at the hobbit.
Before Bilbo could answer Oin was by his side and slowly helping him into sitting up, putting pillows behind his back to support him before pushing a mug of milk spiked with poppy to help dull the pain was feeling. Once he was done drinking it he looked over his dwarrows glad to see none were injured from the Orc skirmish. All the dwarrow looked glad to see him awake even Thorin had a small smile on his face.
“How long have I been asleep?” he asked, his voice hoarse and sore.
“Close to three days laddie, your body was fighting a bad infection and your fever broke late last night” answered Balin.
“You had us all very worried Master Baggins” rumbled Gloin.
Bilbo smiled slightly, “I apologize for making you all worry.”
He jumped back as many voices assured him that he had nothing to apologize for. They all fell silent when Thorin raised his hand. “You have nothing to apologize for Bilbo, it is us that should apologize, it was us that failed to protect in the Goblin Caves. I also apologize for the way that I have treated you, I was harsh to you and belittled you. I thought you useless and despite being serious injured you stood up to Azog and saved my life I’m sorry that I ever doubted you Bilbo Baggins.”
Bilbo looked shocked up at the King, he hadn’t expected that, but a part of his rejoiced at being accepted by the King, he swallowed and looked down at his hands. “I accept you apology Thorin, I don’t blame you I would have doubted me to. I’m not a hero, not a warrior, not even a burglar.”
He felt a hand guide his head until he was looking into Thorin’s blue eyes. “It takes a stout heart to stay silent during what you went through, I have seen many break from less. Never doubt yourself Bilbo, you have a heart of mirthial, you are a rare type of warrior despite what you think.”
A chorus of ‘Aye’s’ followed the statement, Bilbo gave them a watery smile, his emotions threatening to spill over. Thorin once again reached for the hobbit and grabbed his right hand and gently put something into his hands.Bilbo gasped at what Thorin had put into his hands. It was two beads of gold, looking closer he saw the blossoms of the tiger lily looking up at him along with the animals. They looked exactly like his medallions, even to the last engraved whiskers on the wolf’s muzzle. He looked up at the dwarrows with tears in his eyes. “How?” He had never showed his medallions to the dwarrows and they were lost in the goblin caves.
Thorin smiled gently down at the hobbit, “I was able to pick up your medallions before we escaped. They were extensively damaged Bilbo, beyond repair.”
“So Uncle had Ori sketch out exactly what they looked like” cut in Kili grinning.
“Then he and Dwalin melted them down and reshaped them into beads” finished Fili.
“Then Nori with his ever nimble fingers engraved them so they were exactly like the originals” smiled Bofur slinging his arm across the thief’s shoulder.
Bilbo smiled through his tears, whispering his thanks. He looked at the beads closer, fingers ghosting over the familiar markings, stopping at a series of signs that ran length ways down the side of the bead. There were five total written in what looked like Khuzudal. He looked questioningly up at the dwarrows who seemed to take a sudden interest at the floor. He looked at Thorin who was the only one not staring at his feet, “What do these symbols mean?”
Thorin hesitantly met Bilbo’s gaze, “They were Bifur’s idea,” the mentioned dwarf shook his head enthusiastically, giving Bilbo a reassuring smile as Thorin continued. “They are the Khuzudal symbols of our family lines, the line of Durin, Fundin, Groin, Ri, and Ur.”
Bilbo looked at them all not understanding, “Why?”
Dori moved forward, his mother hen instincts taking over. He settled next to Bilbo on the bed and gently took his hand. “Because we care for you Bilbo, it’s just taken this to make some of us to realize just how much we care. You say you aren’t a burglar, but somehow you’ve managed to steal a place in all our hearts. These symbols tell others that you are family to our lines, close kin.” As what Dori said sank in Bilbo’s shoulders began to shake as he sobbed; Dori gently placed an arm around Bilbo gently hugging him until the tears had stopped and if Balin and a few others discreetly whipped a tear or two away no one said anything.
Gently taking the beads from Bilbo’s hand, Dori began to braid them in, making two braids on either side of his head starting at the temple and braided back so it hung behind his pointed ears. Dori smiled as he took in his handy work, the braids suiting Bilbo nicely. He turned to the rest of the Company, “I’d say that our hobbit is starting to look like a proper dwarf, what say you?”
“I’d say Uncle Bilbo looks marvelous” chirped Kili, smirking at the shocked expression on Bilbo’s face, “Or maybe big brother Bilbo looks marvelous, or maybe cousin Bilbo. Which sounds better Fee?”
Most of the Company had begun to smile at the youngsters musing, “Defiantly Uncle or Cousin Bilbo Kee, if we adopted him as our big brother who knows what Amad will do to him, probably lock him in the mountain and never let him leave like she’s going to do with us when she catches us. This way he has a fighting chance of getting away, a slim one” said Fili laughing.
Bilbo laughed along with the rest of the Company, a warm feeling spreading through his very being. A feeling of acceptance and love for his new family.
Notes:
So Desolation of Smaug was awesome totally loved it. Though it did nothing for writers block since they spent so little time in Mirkwood but despite that inspiration has struck and I'm defiantly going to continue this story. Hope you enjoyed reading this!
Chapter 9: Recovering at Beorns
Summary:
The Company spends time resting at Beorns house, and Bilbo recovers.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
As he had recovered there had always been someone by his side talking and asking him questions about his life in the Shire. Even Thorin had seemed to warm to him and checked on him often. It had been strange but Bilbo welcomed the change. Before he had only been tentivly welcomed into the Company, not fully trusted and some dwarfs kept their distance. Now he felt like he belonged, and even better he had a family, something he had longed for for so long. When he wasn’t sleeping he found his room filled with many different dwarrows that would tell stories as they worked on something.
It had been surprisingly Bifur with Ori translating that Bilbo learned what an honor he had been granted. “We pride ourselves of our family, they are more important to us then all the gold and gems in the earth, though there are a few exceptions to this rule as with any people, to say a few bad apples in the bunch. Now it has been known for dwarrows to adopt members into their families but they have always been other dwarrows. As far as we know you are the only non-dwarf that has been adopted as kin, previously only non-dwarrows have been named dwarrow-friend the highest honor we could give someone. By adopting you we have essentially made you an honorary dwarf, meaning you have all the rights of a dwarf as if you had been born one in any dwarf kingdom.”
Bilbo had looked between Bifur and Ori and just stared with his mouth slightly open not believing it, but then a thought entered his brain. “Won't you get in trouble for this? I mean if it’s never been down before won't other dwarrows get mad?” he asked quietly eyes moving to study the quilt so he missed the sign Bifur sent Ori to get Thorin.
Ori made his way out of the room and into the living room heading to where Thorin was discussing plans with Balin. They both looked up as Ori approached them.
“Ori is everything alright?” asked Balin.
“Bilbo’s worried, Bifur was explaining to him about dwarrow families and how he was the first non-dwarrow adopted. Bilbo’s afraid that he’s gotten us in trouble with other dwarrows, by doing this.”
Thorin sighed, he knew that this conversation would have been brought up eventually, he just hoped that it would have been later when Bilbo was more comfortable with his new position in the Company. Balin seemed to think the exact same thing.
“Well we knew that this would happen, though not this soon”
Thorin nodded and rolled up his map, “Shall we?” he asked, Balin smiled and nodded following Thorin as they left the room going to Bilbo’s. They opened to door to see Bifur had crawled into the bed and had Bilbo in his arms as he hummed running a soothing hand through his curls. Bifur acknowledged his King but made no moves to get up. Thorin toed off his boots and crawled into the other side of the bed next to Bilbo.
“Bilbo, Ori told me that you have some doubts” he said gently. Bilbo gently nodded against Bifur’s chest.
“Bifur said that this has never happened in your history, and from my observation dwarrows are quite stubborn. I don’t think that they would accept what you did lightly, some will be downright against it. I don’t want to cause you problems. Rebuilding a kingdom, you will need all the support you can get and some will see this as a betrayal against your traditions and refuse their help.”
Balin sighed; their hobbit was quite right in his assumptions. Many of the dwarrow clans would cause trouble for Thorin because of the adoption; with so many traditionalists Thorin could potentially have trouble getting support. But in Thorin’s eyes and the Company this was worth it, Bilbo was family and they were going to keep him no matter what the old nobles thought.
Thorin seemed to pick up on his train of thought. “Bilbo, I thought on my decision long and hard. Many in my place would have just made you a dwarf-friend or crafted you a weapon to show their gratitude. I wanted you as part of my family, I do not care what the rest of the dwarrow clans think. They didn’t leave their homes to join this quest, you did. When we reclaim Erebor they will find that they have no right to say anything against what I decide. The dwarrows of Erebor have made do without their support since we settled in Ered Luin, the dwarrows of Erebor are experienced in rebuilding kingdoms” then he smirked at the hobbit. “I also have the advantage of being King Under the Mountain, my people will support my decisions. You will also have the advantage of being a hero that helped reclaim our Homeland when all others wouldn’t. You will see Bilbo, everything will work out fine.”
Bilbo looked at Thorin for the first time since he entered the room. The dwarrow were glad to note the color was returning to their hobbits checks, making the bandage on the check stand out. “Really? I won't just cause problems for you?”
Balin answered from the seat he had taken beside the bed. “Bilbo, I will not lie to you and say that there will never be problems, because some nobles will are stark traditionalists and will disapprove but you will have us to support you. Like Thorin said if we succeed you will have the advantage of being a hero that helped reclaimed Erebor and this will get many of our people to look favorably on you and we can argue that you deserved the highest honor we can give you and that would be making you family.” Then Balin side eyed Thorin grinning. “If all else fails, we can sic Dis on them.”
Thorin couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of his sister getting into one of her rants, he could remember being on the receiving end of a few and they were not pretty. Bilbo looked curiously at Thorin when he felt this reaction. “Is your sister that scary?”
All the dwarrows in the room nodded at the same time. “Dis is pretty formable when you get her riled, and I’m speaking from experience. You do not want to be on the receiving end of her ire.”
Bifur smirked then quickly signed something, that Ori translated to Thorin fears her.
Which had Bilbo wide eyed, thinking that Thorin feared nothing, but he was wrong as Balin launched into tales of Dis terrorizing her older brother for the rest of the afternoon until he fell back into a healing slumber.
It was the third day of his recovery that he finally met their host Beorn. He had just woken from a nap when he felt a presence in the room. Glancing around he saw a chest, following his gaze upward he met the eyes of the biggest man that he had ever seen. Strangely he wasn’t the least bit afraid and gave the man a small smile.
“Hello” he said softly. The man’s eyes reflected the light for a moment much like an animals would as he gazed at the hobbit.
“So Master Baggins is finally awake. I am Beorn, the Master of this house” said the man with a smile of his own.
“Then I must thank-you Master Beorn for allowing me to rest here as I recover. I doubt I would have made it if it wasn’t for your generosity.”
“Think nothing of it Master Baggins, hobbits are always welcomed at my home just like they have been since the Wandering Days.”
Bilbo looked at Beorn shocked, “You know about hobbits?” The origins of hobbits were not known to other races, many thought they were descended from Man and that the Shire was always their home. Few knew that Yvanna was their creator, the Green Lady, and that they had wandered for many years before they ever settled in the Shire. So it was quite the shock to hear that this man knew about their history.
Indeed I do, though it doesn’t surprise me that your kind has forgotten about me, it was long ago. I help the hobbits in many ways. It was me that they consulted when they first formed the family crests, and it was I that helped protect your ancestors during their travels through the wilds until they found the Shire, a land that was blessed by your Mother.
If Bilbo was shocked before it was nothing compared to the way he stared when the language of the hobbits came from Beorn’s mouth. His words bringing back the memory of his Mother Belladonna telling him the legends of the old days, of the Bear-Man that was there protector until the hobbits were safe. We didn’t forget about you Master Beorn, the legends call you the Bear-Man, our greatest Protecter, that helped us during our greatest time of need when all others turned their back.
Beorn hummed happily, glad that hobbits hadn’t forgotten him entirely and what he did for them. He chuckled as he saw Bilbo’s eyes began to drop again even though he had just woken from a nap. “Little Bunny needs to get more rest” he murmured as he stepped beside the bed and pulled the covers back over Bilbo as he lay down. The name of endearment slipping past Beorn’s lips without a thought, he grinned when he heard Bilbo grumble.
“Not a bunny” before he fell back into a doze.
--=---
It was interesting when Nori stayed by his bed side his fingers always doing something, entertaining the hobbit with stories of Nori’s escapades with the Guard. Which brought them to their current conversation.
“It’s good that Dwalin has adopted you as family it means that he won't arrest you if you get caught doing something illegal.”
Bilbo lifted an eyebrow at the tri-peaked haired dwarf, “Why would I need to be glad for that?”
Nori smirked, “Well as Spy Master it’s my tradition to break in new guards to see how green they are, and I might need a light footed hobbit for help. And by chance we get caught by a lucky guardsman you can sweet talk Dwalin out of putting us in jail.”
Bilbo could help but smile at Nori, “What is with this we stuff, if a hobbit doesn’t want to be caught he isn’t. A skill many of my cousins and I perfected when we ran away from angry hobbit ladies after taking deserts that cooled in the windows. So it will probably just be you that is trying to sweet talk Dwalin into letting you go and from your stories I don’t see that happening.”
Nori tried to give the hobbit his best doe eyes but Bilbo just laughed. “You have to work on those Nori, I’ve lived with fauntlings and they have the saddest, cutest eyes in all of Middle Earth. You should really try those on Dwalin he might fall for them, though you might have to do something with your hair it throws off the cuteness.”
Nori smirked, “So I should curl my hair and try to act like a hobbit you mean, I think I would look absolute lovely with curls.”
Bilbo nodded seriously, “Yes, I’ve heard human women wrap their hair with rags to achieve curls; if you come tonight I’m sure we can fix you all up, I’m sure Dori and Bofur would love to help me to maybe we should call them in now, by the time we are done I’m sure that it will be time to go to bed.”
Nori laughed nervously and began to back away, “Ah well I think I hear Ori calling my name, I got to go see you later Bilbo.”
Bilbo couldn’t help but laugh as Nori practically fled the room. He laughed so hard that soon he was groaning in pain as his ribs were jostled. This had Oin rushing in and then banning visitors for the rest of the day
---=-=
On the fifth day of Bilbo’s recovery when he was allowed to sit up, he found himself in Beorn’s arms cradled like a baby as he was showed the grounds of the skinchangers home. Bilbo had gotten over his shock of meeting a living legend that conversation was flowing between them in the flowering language of the Hobbits.
“You have a lovely home here Master Beorn” commented Bilbo as he looked at the fields of wild flowers with the giant bees flying around them. “It reminds very much like the Shire.”
Beorn hummed, “Many of these flowers are descended from seeds that were given to me by hobbits when I used to visit the Shire a few years after it was settled.”
Bilbo was surprised, “You’ve been to the Shire.”
Beorn smiled but it was tinged with sadness. “Yes I visited my friends among the hobbits until they passed on, and then their children. But eventually all my friends passed away and the Shire was a sad reminder of them and my heart couldn’t stand the pain and I quiet visiting.”
Bilbo squeezed Beorn arm gently, “I am sorry Master Beorn if I upset you.”
Beorn laughed gently, “Nay Master Bunny, I am over my grief and I can look back on these memories with fondness.” He paused, “You remind me a lot of them Bilbo, you have the same spirit, though that may be because you’re a Took. You do your ancestors proud by helping these dwarrows.”
Bilbo couldn’t help the blush that spread across his checks as he suddenly found his sling so interesting not able to meet the skinchangers gaze. Beorn couldn’t help but smile down at the hobbit who was embarrassed by his words.
They continued in silence with Beorn pointing to interesting sights along the way, both of them just enjoying the beautiful afternoon and each other’s company. That was until it was interrupted by the shouts of the dwarrows. “Master Beorn!!!” came the voices of Fili and Kili as they ran towards him, crashing into each other as they came to a halt in front of him falling to the ground. “Master Beorn, Uncle Bilbo’s gone!” they cried as they struggled up. Bilbo couldn’t help it giggle as both young dwarrows tried to get up but kept knocking the other one down. They both froze at the sound and glanced up at the shape-shifter and eyes locked on the hobbit cuddled in his arms.
“Bilbo!” cried Kili finally getting out from under his brother.
“We’ve thought you had been kidnapped when we found your room empty!” exclaimed Fili examining their hobbit to see if extra harm had come to him. “What are you doing out of bed!” he demanded once sure that the hobbit was okay while shoving Kili to go alert the others they had found the hobbit.
“Master Beorn was just showing me his gardens” explained Bilbo. Fili didn’t look impressed but glared at their host they just stood there looking at each other until the rest of the dwarrow showed up. All looking relieved to see their hobbit safe.
After that day, he was often whisked away by Beorn to talk, the shape-shifter making it a game to see if he could get pass the dwarrows without them noticing him. It was to the shame of the dwarrows that it happened more than they would have liked, that they would go to Bilbo’s room to find that he was gone.
The two weeks that they stayed was beneficial for the whole Company, bringing them closer than they were ever before. Bilbo wounds were mostly healed to the point that they didn’t bother him. His ribs and wrist were still healing, but it was decided as a Company that it would be okay to continue on, Bilbo was very adamant to continue so that they didn’t miss Durin Day.
There last night there everyone was gathered in the living room, enjoying the last bit of peace that they would have for a while. It was then that a question that had been bothering the Company was asked.
“Uncle Bilbo, Beorn told us when we fixing your crests that the animals and plants on them had special meaning, what does yours mean?” asked Ori shyly, his journal open. He like the Princes had taken to calling the hobbit Uncle; the three enjoyed the small smile that always appeared on the hobbits face when they called him that, the constant reaffirmation that he was part of their families.
Bilbo took the new pipe that Bofur had carved him out of his mouth and tapped out the embers. “Beorn is right, hobbit crest tell the virtues that describe a clan, like hobbits no two crests are the same. Some might share the same flowers but the animal is different or vice-versa. Now the two clans I come from are the Tooks and the Baggins, I get my name Baggins from my Father. The Took and Baggins clans are like night and day and it was a shock to everyone in the Shire when my parents married, both were the very meaning of the crests. May I see the drawling of my crests?” Ori immediately handed the paper to the hobbit as the other dwarrows came closer. “The Baggins crest is outlined with cockles and currant,” said Bilbo pointing to the plants when he said there name. “Cockle means gentility, meaning that the Baggins clan has social superiority as demonstrated by genteel manners, behavior, or appearances, otherwise known as being highly respectable, never doing anything that would make other hobbits look down upon them. The currant means that you please all, it is important to the Baggins clan that you try your hardest to get along with every one and therefore please everyone. The skunk was the animal chosen to represent us, unlike the flowers, animals generally have more than one meaning. Skunks mean Sensuality, Respect, Self Esteem, Shrewdness, Transformation, Life, Death, Rebirth, Rain, Fertility, and Transmutation. Most Baggins ignore the Transformation and Transmutation part, they see change as bad and could lead to one being non respectable. My Father became a true Baggins when he married my Mother for she did change him. Though many said she cursed him, it is considered odd to have only one child most families have at least four, so there were always whispers that it was punishment for marrying that they only had me.”
The ones closest to Bilbo gently laid a hand on his shoulders and squeezed gentle to comfort him wordlessly. Bilbo smiled and continued on with his explanation.
“Now as I said before the Tooks are quite the opposite, known for doing the unexpected. Before I went adventuring, my Mother had the record of traveling the furthest from the Shire, making it to Rivendell. So the Took crest is surrounded by Tiger Lily, Coltsfoot, and Black Polar a lethal combination for being unrespectable. The Tiger Lily means adventure, Coltsfoot that justice will be done, meaning if they see something wrong a Took will do everything in their power to set things right. The last Black Polar means courage, there is only one other family in the entire Shire that has this combination of flowers and that is the Brandybucks, many of the Tooks have married Brandybucks over the years and a number of them are my kin. But the Tooks animal symbol is unique not one other family has it, and some are scandalized that it is a predator. The animal is a Wolf, and it has several different meanings. Such as facing the End of One's Cycle with Dignity and Courage, Death and Rebirth, Instinct Linked with Intelligence, Social and Family Values, Outwitting Enemies, Steadfastness, Skill in Protection of Self and Family, Taking Advantage of Change, Intuition, Learning to walk the Shadows, Guardianship, Loyalty, Spirit, a Pathfinder, Teaching, Careful Study, Cunning, Escaping Hunters, Ability to Pass by Dangers Invisibly. My mother was all these things, she had to be when she went adventuring. I was like her when I was younger but as I grew up I found it better to act like a Baggins then a Took, less talk, less cruel words for not being considered normal. I clung to the Baggins values and tried to forget about my Took side.”
Bilbo paused for a moment before continuing. “When we were in the Goblin Caves, I thought for sure I was going to die and I knew that if I was going to die I wanted to die as a Took, I wanted to face it with dignity and courage.”
Silence fell on the group, this was the first time that Bilbo had said anything about the Goblin Caves to any of them. Arms drew him into a lap, and Bilbo looked down to see metal covered hands and he knew that he was in the lap of Dwalin, he was hugged tight, but not tight enough that it would hurt him. He leaned back into the warrior taking the comfort that was being offered to him. “You are a very strong hobbit, Master Baggins, not many could have did what you did” murmured Dwalin into his ear. “From what you have told us, you are a true Took. You are loyal to this Company; cunning for you got us past the Trolls by outwitting them. You have protected us, your family since the beginning and you escaped Azog and his Orcs.”
Bilbo nodded, and made a move to get out of Dwalin’s lap but found the arms tightening and Bilbo was forced to stay where he was, listening as the dwarrows tried to lighten the mood and eventually succeeded when stories of older ones youth began to get told and soon the laughter echoed in the house. Snuggling into Dwalin’s warmth, Bilbo soon found himself asleep with a slight smile on his face knowing that he was completely safe in the arms of the warrior.
Notes:
Decided to have a family bonding time before dragging Bilbo through hell again. Hope that you liked it!
Special Thanks to Moonrose91 for the great idea!
Chapter 10: Into Mirkwood
Summary:
Into Mirkwood they go
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Bilbo shivered as he looked up at the knarled and twisted trees that stretch out overheard. This forest felt sick and dangerous, he was loath to go in. He started a bit when a hand landed on his shoulder.
“You alright there Bilbo?” asked Dori as he straightened the hobbits cloths, making sure not to jostle the sling that Bilbo still wore, as he looked at him up and down.
“I’m fine Dori, the forest has me on edge I guess” Bilbo replied putting up with Dori’s ministrations. It was nice to be fussed over a bit. “It isn’t right, it feels sinister.”
“Well I’d be sinister to if I had a bunch of tree-shagging elves living in me to” joked Bofur as he came to stand next to the hobbit. “Don’t worry Bilbo, as long as we stay on the path like Gandalf and Beorn told us then we will be just fine-“
“But just in case, you should wear this again” finished Dori, bringing Bilbo’s elvish sword out of his pack and helping Bilbo tie it around his waist.
It still felt strange to the hobbit to not be wearing a waist coat, instead he was wearing a thick green tunic that fell midway down his thighs. A brown coat had been added over top of that that came down to his elbows, and covered the tunic. A dwarvish style belt sat around his hips that kept the cloths tight around his body instead of billowing out like a tent. Thicker pants had also been made for him that were similar to the ones that he had started the quest with, lastly a pair of dark green fingerless gloves and matching scarf completed the outfit. Though Bilbo was far from complaining, the new warmer cloths were a welcome as the season was rapidly changing bringing colder nights. When he first saw himself in the mirror he had been shocked, if it wasn’t for his beardless face and feet he could easily be mistaken for a dwarf. When he had mention this to the Company, they had all beamed at the hobbit.
It didn’t seem that they were joking when they said adopting him basically made him a dwarf and though they respected the fact he was a hobbit first, honorary dwarf second they were still having fun treating him as a miniature dwarf. On their final days at Beorn’s Gloin stepped forward and gifted the hobbit with his own miniature dwarven axe and had promised to show the hobbit how to wield it when he was fully recovered. It was strange, at the beginning of this journey he would have laughed at anyone that told him that he would one day have a sword and feel comfortable. But here he was with a sword strapped on hip and an ax on the other. Not to mention the dagger that was strapped to his forearm underneath his tunic that Nori had given him after one of their many discussions of the criminal actives Nori was determined to bring Bilbo into, most of them were for fun while others were serious. He had changed, and he found that he didn’t mind, he liked the person this quest was shaping.
“Ready to go Uncle Bilbo?” asked Ori, stepping up to stand next to Bilbo along with Bifur. Bilbo took one last look of the green fields that they had ridden across and nodded, smiling as both Ori and Bifur hooked their arms through his and followed Thorin’s lead into Mirkwood.
Bilbo officially hated Mirkwood within the first full day that they had been inside it and it only grew worse as the sun went down. The first night when they had tried to light a fire they had been swarmed with giant white moths, and ever since then they had stopped trying to light a fire. Which lead to the discovery that Bilbo was almost completely blind in the dark. So each night Bilbo would be paired with one of the dwarrows and kept close, Bilbo clung to the dwarf he was assigned to, afraid that if he let go he would become lost. The dwarrows were also afraid of losing their hobbit, so it became common to find in the morning Bilbo wrapped up in a pair of arms and held tight against a dwarf. The Company practically cooed when they woke up to find Thorin, Dwalin, and Bifur, curled up around the hobbit, three of the fiercest dwarrows in the Company.
After three weeks in the forest, Bilbo began to grow weary, although the others would try to assure him that they would get out of the forest soon, but even Bilbo could hear the nervousness in their voices, knew that they were unsure as he was.
While Bilbo couldn’t see in the dark the dwarrows could, their night vision was excellent. So they could see the eyes that peered down around them every night, the sinister eyes that would move, but never dare approach. Not much sleep was found for the group, the noises of creatures unknown caused them all to only dose jerking awake with each new sound.
These nights Bilbo often hummed to himself song from the Shire. That is until one night Ori begged him to sing one aloud. Bilbo’s voice was light, not deep like the dwarrows, a golden sound. The songs he sang were silly little songs but it lifted the dark of the forest, and to the surprise of the dwarrows the eyes soon began to disappear like they couldn’t stand the innocence that rang through Bilbo’s voice. Evil couldn’t withstand the pure notes that came from the hobbit that spoke of a green peaceful land where evil had no foothold. Bilbo’s songs lifted the Company’s spirits and sleep came easy that night.
The forest seemed brighter that morning then it had been when they stopped that night, a tiny green plant seemed to have blossomed right next to were Bilbo had rested his head that night, looking out of place amidst the dark forest that surrounded them.
“Hobbits are the creations of Yavanna” reasoned Balin as he stared at the green plant as Bilbo helped make breakfast with Bombur. “Like dwarrows have gifts given to us by our creator, it seems that hobbits do as well. The Shire is proof of that lads, you will find no other place in Middle Earth quite as green or fertile as that land. The skill we have with stone is the same hobbits have with land.”
The Company should have known that there would be consequences for the one good night they had had in the weeks hey had been in the cursed forest. They had come to a river, and with the help of Fili they had managed to snag a boat from the other side and were ferrying the Company across. Bombur was just getting out of the boat when from the opposite bank a stag burst through and landed next to the dwarf startling him, before any of them could react Bombur was falling backwards into the river.
After a frantic struggle they managed to drag Bombur back to shore where Oin announced that he was asleep after he examined him. A litter was quickly made and the dwarrows took turns in carrying Bombur. Bilbo was disqualified from helping because of his still healing wrist. Their speed of travel was dramatically slowed, going only a few miles in a day, and it weighted down heavily on the Company as slowly there food and water supplies began to run short.
It was Bilbo who found himself taking care of the Company when they stopped at nights. All of them exhausted from carrying Bombur that they could do little else but pull out their bedrolls and fall straight to sleep. He would make sure each dwarf ate their part of their rations before falling asleep, before doing the same for Bombur. It would be only then that he would take time and eat his own rations. It was then that Bilbo would do his best to do watch, he was limited on his inability to see and had to rely on his hearing. He would let his dwarrows sleep as long as they could before waking the one that had been assigned second watch.
Bombur being in a sleep coma dragged hard on Bifur and Bofur. Both were extremely worried over their family member. Bofur’s usually cheerful grin was gone from his face, and Bifur retreated a bit into his head, the only ones that seemed to able to reach him was Bofur and Bilbo. On the evenings they actually managed to stay awake a few hours Bilbo and Bofur found themselves hustled to sit in front of Bifur, while the warrior would calm himself by braiding their hair while mumbling things in khuzdul that Bofur quietly translated. Most were old stories from the Broadbeam clans history, that Bofur explained Bifur used to tell them when they were dwarlings. These nights Bilbo couldn’t escape Bifur’s grip, not that Bilbo minded. He often found himself situated in Bifur’s lap, with his arms caging him in as they grip the boar spear in front of both of them.
Though it was a relief for all when by the end of the week Bombur woke from his slumber. He had first been confused, not remembering anything since Bag End, but as they walked bits and pieces came back to him. And so the Company marched onward, their supplies soon drying up with no end to the forest in sight. On the day their food ran out, it was decided that one of them would climb a tree to see how much further they had to go.
Bilbo volunteered, having climbed many tree back in his younger day. “I can do it” His calm suggestion was met by a loud ‘NO’ in all directions.
“I don’t think that would be the best idea laddie,” reasoned Balin
“I’m the lightest and the most agile, I can do this” insisted Bilbo glaring at Balin and Thorin. Balin sighed, not wanting to fight with Bilbo, but also not wanting him to climb a tree. He turned to Oin.
“Is his wrist strong enough to go through with it” he asked, hoping the healers answer was no.
Oin seemed to contemplate the answer while grabbing Bilbo’s wrist and turning it and applying pressure, when he only got a slight grimace only a few times, Oin knew that it was healed enough for this. “If he goes slow and takes his time he should be fine.”
Oin pretended that he could hear the loud colorful curses that was hurled at him at his diagnoses, and he wasn’t the least bit intimidated by the glare that was leaved at him by Bifur and Dwalin. As it were Nori had already pulled Bilbo to the side after Oin’s announcement and gave Bilbo a foot into the tree. Bilbo was already halfway up the tree before any of the arguing dwarrows realized what had happened.
Bilbo couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him as he heard his family call after him, some telling him to be careful while other threatened that if he got hurt he would be sorry. Bilbo made sure to follow Oin advice and climbed slowly and carefully higher and higher until his head broke the canopy and the sun shone on his face for the first time in a long time. He closed his eyes for a moment and simply enjoyed the feel of the breeze ruffling his curls and braids, he smiled and then opened his eyes to look around as the smile fell from his face. In every direction he looked he could see no end. The Lonely Mountain loomed in the distance taunting Bilbo by being so near, but still so far away. Taking a few more moments in the sun, Bilbo reluctantly started to head back down the tree already dreading being the bearer of bad news. As he got closer to the ground he expected for more shouts to greet him.
But when his feet touched ground and he turned to face the Company, he was shocked at the sight of an empty path. He immediately began to panic, they wouldn’t just leave him there. Even at the beginning when barely anybody like him they wouldn’t just leave him. He takes a few hesitant steps further down the path eyes scanning for any glimpse of evidence of were the dwarrows have gone. But nothing appears and Bilbo flounders on what to do, taking a few deep breaths he tries to calm down when a feeling of being watched prickles the back of his neck. Turning quickly stumbles back in fright at the sight of the giant spider heading straight towards him.
Stumbling backwards he trips on a tree root almost sending him sprawling to the ground. Because of his fumble the spider has enough time to reach him. Bilbo tried to dodge the stinger of the large spider but wasn’t quick enough as it glanced his side, slicing through his cloths and cutting his skin releases its venom into his bloodstream. There was a warmth that seemed to spread through his veins, his limbs felt heavy and he was aware that he had fallen to the ground. It was in a daze that he felt himself picked up and turned over and over as something sticky started to cover him trapping his arms and legs close to his body, though he felt his left arm land on the hilt of his sword. It felt like he was in a fog as the spiders limbs danced along his body as he went round and around.
Bilbo blacked out for a moment and the next thing he was aware of was being hung upside down and the sound of the spiders fading away. His mind was clear of the venom that had clouded it before as he realized what kind of situation that he was in. He was hanging upside down presumably from a tree far from the ground, wrapped in spider silk like a fly for hunger spiders, with no clue where his family was. He squashed down his initial wave of panic, he had been in worse situations the goblins and almost becoming warg food came to mind. He took stock of his condition; he had some room to move about in the cocoon, but not much. His left hand was on the hilt of his sword and if he could pull it out of its scabbard he might have enough room to cut his way out. Taking a deep breath Bilbo grasped the handle with his still healing hand and struggled to pull the sword out of the scabbard. There were flares of pain as his wrist protested at the odd angle he was pulling it, but he would rather rebreak his wrist then become spider food. He was sweating and trembling by the time he got the sword all the way out, pausing a few moments to listen for any spiders he began to cut himself out. The silk was no match for the sharp blade and he soon found himself falling out of the cocoon and landing face first on a thick branch, jostling his ribs badly.
His breath came out in a whoosh, making the spiders that were closest to him turn their attention away from several other hanging cocoons, there pinchers clicked as they looked at him. “Shit” Bilbo muttered as the spiders all started making their way toward him. Bilbo wanted to groan as he turned and tried to flee to a better position shucking off his mittens, before also drawling the ax Gloin had given him. Luck was on his side as he soon found the trunk to the massive tree, with his back mostly protected Bilbo made his stand.
Though the width of the branch had been big enough from him to run comfortable on, it was only big enough for one spider at a time to come at him, he a moment he closed his eyes senses heightening as he took a deep breath. Snapping them open he raised the sword and ax, gripping both weapons as tight as he could.
The next few minutes were a haze of pinchers and black blood as numerous spiders fell to Bilbo’s blades. They came from all sides, spiders would jump over their brethren to try to get the hobbit, while even more would come from either sides of the trunk, often shrieking “The little fly stings it bites, kill it!.” It was inevitable that Bilbo would miss and one good hit from the spider had the hobbit free falling to the ground.
Bilbo’s heart jumped into his throat as he fell out of the tree, the ground rushing to meet him and he knew that once he hit he would be in no shape to continue and the spiders would just recapture him and he would die along with the rest of his family, a meal for the spiders. On a desperate whim he lashed out with the ax, the blade sinking into the trunk of the tree, halting him descent and his wrist gave out with a snap. Bilbo gasped in pain, black slightly clouding his vision as he clung to the trunk. Forcing breath out from between his teeth he looked at his wrist, it was already swelling and it didn’t feel right but he didn’t think it was broken. He was distracted when a twig hit his face and looking up he realized the spiders were still after him. Gritting his teeth, he clung to the tree with his legs as he sheathed Sting and used both hands to pull out the ax, he was still too high above the ground to drop safely, and instead he decided to try one daring move. Gripping the ax hard he drove the bit into the trunk, not giving himself time to think more on it he let go his death grip from the tree with his legs and forced all his weight on the ax. His plan worked as the sharp blade of the ax began to cut into the wood as Bilbo’s weight forced it down, he was zipping down the tree at a good speed. *** p>
When his feet touched the ground he took off running, if he could lure the spiders away he could double back and cut the Company free. He quickly began to sing the song that all spiders hate.
"Old fat spider spinning in a tree!
Old fat spider can't see me!
Attercop! Attercop!
Won't you stop,
Stop your spinning and look for me?
Old Tomnoddy, all big body,
Old Tomnoddy can't spy me!
Attercop! Attercop!
Down you drop!
You'll never catch me up your tree!
Lazy Lob and crazy Cob
are weaving webs to wind me,
I am far more sweet than other meat,
but still they cannot find me!
Here am I, naughty little fly;
you are fat and lazy.
You cannot trap me, though you try,
in your cobwebs crazy."
This indeed enraged the spiders and they were all soon following after the hobbit further into Mirkwood. Bilbo only stumbled a few times, still feeling the after effects of the venom in his limbs though the adrenalin running through his veins helped him push through these moments. He occasionally called out more lines of the song to make sure the spiders were still following him. When he deemed that the spiders were far enough away he hide behind a tree. He tried to catch his breath, his heart racing. He looked down at his weapons that were covered in black spider blood. He remembered the spiders words, ‘its stings and bites’ and he knew what he would call his weapons. His sword he named Sting, and his ax would be Biter.
Snapping out of his thoughts by the sound of breaking underbrush, Bilbo waited until the Spiders had moved past his hiding spot before racing back the way he came. The thick trails of webs helped guide him to were the rest of the Company were still hanging from the branches. Bilbo bit back a groan knowing he would have to climb to get them out. He looked at his injured wrist he careful set down his ax and grabbed it with his hand feeling the bones that were out of place, knowing instantly he was lucky the bones had not re-broke because of the jolt but were only dislocated. Bilbo felt lightheaded at the knowledge he would have to pop the bones back in place before he could even attempt to climb to the higher branches.
Counting to three he pushed the bones in while also rotating his wrist, unable to stop the scream of white hot pain that ran up his arm, whiting out his world for a long moment. A few moments later had him blinking rapidly the tears that had escaped his eyes and took note that he had fallen to his knees. Knowing he didn’t have much time before the spiders returned Bilbo took his ax up again and approaching the nearest tree. With the help of the ax he managed to scale his way up the tree in no time. Now he was faced with trouble of getting the dwarrows down without hurting them. Studying the cocoons he went for the one that was moving around the most. In order to cut them out, Bilbo had to climb onto the cocoon itself before drawling the dagger up his sleeve and using his bad wrist to cut through the sticky strands to reveal the dwarf inside. A pair of wide brown eyes meet his, and a cry of “Uncle Bilbo!” as Kili’s face was revealed, “I heard you scream, I thought the spiders were eating you!”
“Shh Kili,” whispered Bilbo, “I’m alright but the spiders will be back any moment, do you think you’re up for some climbing?” whispered Bilbo adjusting his position of the cocoon, his toes trying to find purchase in the silky threads.
“I’m good Uncle Bilbo” replied Kili confidently. Bilbo took his word for it.
“Okay, now get a good grip on the web, once a cut this open I don’t want you tipping forward and falling to your death understood?”
So it was with great acrobat skills from Kili that he managed to not fall and somehow right himself so that he could climb up the cocoon onto the tree limb that he had been attached too. Freeing the dwarrows was simple with the help of Kili as he and Bilbo managed to free the rest of the Company and all of them were standing in the tree tops looking worse for wear with webs sticking in the beards and clothing and swaying slightly on the venom making many in the Company weak and sick feeling.
“How are we going to get down?” spoke up Dori from his spot next to Ori, the young dwarf looking unsteady.
Bilbo frowned, he hadn’t thought that far ahead, but was saved from an answer when Nori spoke up, “Easy brother.” From out of one of his hidden pockets he drew a bundle of rope that he quickly secured to the branch, the rope was somehow long enough to stretch all the way down to the ground below them. “Alright, who’s first?” he asked in a way to cheerful voice.
Dwalin ended up being the first one down, as the King’s guard he scanned the area for the forms of returning spiders and managed to find where the spiders had put their weapons. One by one the others in the Company made their way down the rope until it was only Nori and Bilbo. Nori looked at Bilbo holding out a hand to help him down, eyebrows raised when Bilbo grimaced. Nori’s keen eyes picked up on the fact he was hiding his one hand behind him, and it didn’t escape Nori’s notice that this was the one with the broken wrist.
“Bilbo, let me see it” he said quietly. Bilbo casted his eyes down on the branch and silently raised his arm so that Nori could see the black and blue bruising that had already formed on the swollen flesh. “Is it rebroken?”
“No, the bones were just dislocated, but its fine now, just don’t think I will be able to hold my weight.” Nori pondered how he was going to get Bilbo down when Dwalin called up.
“Nori, Bilbo get down quick the spiders are coming!”
Nori reacted fast, before Bilbo could argue he had him hoisted over his shoulder, grabbing the rope with an old piece of leather, Nori slid down the rope and was soon at the bottom just as the spiders came bursting into the clearing. The dwarrows stuck together, protecting each other’s back as Spiders began to rain down around them from all directions. When the sound of a horn echoed in the clearing.
It happened so quickly one minute the spiders were all around them, and now they were driven back by elves that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Bilbo suddenly felt hands on his shoulders, and he glimpsed Dwalin’s knuckle dusters before he found himself shoved under Thorin’s cloak. “Hang on tight Bilbo, stay hidden” he heard Thorin murmur as arms lifted the hobbit on his back forcing Bilbo to find a hold on the dwarf’s tunic and his feet on his belt. For a second he thought it was unnecessary to hide him from these elves until he heard a hard voice speak.
“Do not think I will not kill you dwarf” He felt Thorin stiffen beneath him and almost could feel the glare that was surely being thrown at the elf. Bilbo could only relay on his hearing to know what was happening. The elves seemed to be grouping the dwarrows together and taking their weapons, the only one that didn’t fight was Thorin as he wordlessly handed over Orcrist and the other blades he had hidden on his person. Thorin hated that he could fight back as his hands were tied together, it was only the warm presence of the hobbit on his back that kept him from trying to strangle the tree-shagger that was running his gaze up and down Orcrist speaking in his frilly language.
His silver eyes turned toward Thorin, “This is an ancient Elvish blade, forged by our ancestors. Where did you get it!” he demanded.
Thorin gritted his teeth, “I found it abandoned in a cave. It is mine now, with the blessing of Lord Elrond of Rivendell.”
The elfling dared to narrow his eyes at the dwarf and spat out “Liar.”
Dwalin growled, “You dare call him a liar tree shagger.”
Legalos didn’t even bother to look at the warrior dwarf, ignoring him. Instead him spoke to his companions and soon they were all marching towards the Mirkwood Kingdom.
Bilbo huddled under Thorin cloak as the elves marched them to their kingdom. Clinging tightly to Thorin’s back in an effort to hang on, felt himself slipping more than once, his left wrist not able to hold tightly, the pain to great. Moments such as this Thorin would lean forward as much as he could without drawing attention and try to help Bilbo from slipping. He was sure that any moment the elves would notice and yank him off, but none did. Laying his check against Thorin back he listened to the king’s steady heart beat that soon calmed him down.
He couldn’t believe what these elves were doing, did they always take people who went through the forests as prisoners or was it because his family was dwarrows. When he heard the dwarrows complain about the elves of Mirkwood, he thought they were being unfair but now he could see why they were so bitter. The dwarrows were in no shape to fight back, surely the elves could see the bags underneath their eyes, how that they stumbled every now and then. Yet they had tied them up like dogs and stripped them of any means to protect themselves in a forest full of danger. In that moment Bilbo could believe everything the dwarrows had ever said about elves, but it was the memory of Lord Elrond’s hospitality that stopped him. Though there meetings were very similar, both Elrond and the Mirkwood elves came to surround the Company after a fight with dark creatures, Elrond had offered his home to the Company, and it might have been a little awkward but the Rivendell elves had treated them with respect. These Mirkwood elves spat the word dwarf like it was a curse and treated them like dirt beneath their feet and had them bound and forcibly dragged along with them.
Thorin’s movements suddenly changed becoming smoother, causing Bilbo to look down to see the path they had been walking on change to stone and the sound of a river reached his ears moments before the sound was silenced as they entered the Elf Kingdom.
They were pulled into a room off the walkway were even more elves came. Thorin growled as the elves started to manhandle his men removing everything but the bare essentials. Thorin exchanged a worried look with Dwalin as the elves slowly moved their way towards him. He had hoped that since he had surrendered his weapons quietly that they wouldn’t degrade them further by stripping them of everything. Which was why he had hurriedly told Dwalin to help Bilbo under his cloak before the elves caught sight of him. He could protect Bilbo better if the elves didn’t know he was with him. The rest of the Company was trying to reason with the elves, but the elves looked down with uncaring eyes. Bilbo felt Thorin tense under him, knowing that it would be soon that he would be discovered, that didn’t stop him from clinging tighter to Thorin wishing that he was invisible. Thorin hated that he was unable to protect his little brother; he had already failed him enough in the goblin caverns, Azog, the spiders, and now the elves.
Too soon it was his turn to be stripped of his processions. Thorin tried to twist away from the hands that pulled on his cloak, trying to strip him of his armor like they were doing to his men. He desperately tried to keep Bilbo hidden from the elves. It was no use the more Thorin fought back the more elves came forward until his cloak was ripped from him, causing Bilbo to tumble to the ground. The sight of the hobbit was enough to make the elves freeze for a few precious seconds that allowed Dwalin to lunge forward and hook his tied together hands around the hobbit and pull him close to his chest disappearing in the group of dwarrows as they closed rank as much as the rope that tied them together could.
“Tell the King there is a fourteenth member of the dwarf party, that was hidden under Oakenshields cloak, the other dwarrows guard it fiercely” ordered Legalos, eyes peering into the group of dwarrows to see the creature that had fallen to the ground. The dwarrows visibly bristled at the look and came closer together.
In the middle of their group Bilbo was shaking, clinging tightly to Dwalin. He felt so safe in the warriors arms but looking at the elves that had circled the group, he knew that it would only be moments before he was dragged out of them. He heard a gently growl of khuzdul and felt the callous hands of Bifur rub his arm, trying to calm the small creature while he still could. Bilbo could only turn his head and smile weakly at the dwarf before the elves jerked the rope pulling the dwarrows out of the room, it seemed that they didn’t mind him being in Dwalin’s arms for the moment. It wasn’t like he could escape, they were surrounded by elves, and the corridors they passed all looked the same. That is until they were lead into the throne room and Bilbo first laid eyes on the Elven King Thranduil, perched on his antler throne looking extremely cold. Much to Dwalin’s distress, Bilbo’s shaking became worse as they were halted at the foot of the raised throne, and all Dwalin could do was hold the hobbit as tight as he could.
Thranduil’s cool eyes swept calmly over the group of dwarrows in his throne room, his eyes pausing on Thorin before they landed in the creature that was being held by the tattooed warrior dwarf. His guards had told him that the creature had been hiding underneath Thorin Oakenshields cloak and once discovered the rest of the dwarrows had pulled him into the circle. Nodding to his son he inclined his head at the creature. Legalos bowed his head and called out to his men. It took only a few moments to subdue the dwarrows and pull the creature out of their grasps. The creature struggled against the guards trying to return to the Company, spare rope was produced and the creatures hands were bound behind him.
Thranduil studied the creature that was forced to his knees in front of the elven king. The first thing he noticed was the large haired feet. The cloths were similar to what the rest of the group was wearing. His hair was a shade of copper and had two braids braided in it that accented pointed ears like those of an elf. The face was hidden by the excess hair, but Thranduil knew what was before him. A Hobbit, a Halfling from the gentle West and Thranduil’s curiosity was spiked. Rising from his throne he slowly descended to stand in front of the hobbit, amused as the he tried to hid his face from the King by bowing his head further.
With one long finger, Thranduil lifted the hobbits eyes to meet his. Shock and pity flooded the elf as he caught sight of the brand that covered the left side of the hobbits face, disfiguring him. It was obvious to the King that it was fresh, the scar tissue still pink and had a shiny look to it. He would guess that it was only a month old at the least. He tilted the hobbit head further, examining it closer, the harsh looking symbols were unknown to him but he guessed that they held a special meaning to them to be so carefully carved into its face. The hobbit’s breathing speed up as without realizing what he was doing Thranduil’s other hand was reaching up to touch the mark, he was just hair breath away from touching when he was interrupted.
“Get your hands off of him” came a deep growl from Oakenshield that distracted Thranduil from the hobbit. The dwarrows all glared at the Elven King and more than one of them looked like they wanted to cut off the hand that touched the hobbit. It was clear to the dwarrows that Bilbo was on the edge of a flash back, if the glassy look in his eyes were to go by. Speaking or touching the brand was off limits to everyone, even Oin just putting a poultice on it was enough to have Bilbo whimpering and struggling against them thinking he was back in the Goblin caverns.
Thranduil glared at Thorin; deliberately he laid a hand on the shaking hobbit’s shoulder as he straightened to his full height. “You are in no position to give me orders Thorin son of Thrain. Tell me what you and your men were doing trespassing on my lands?”
Thorin leveled a cool glance at Thranduil looking regal despite the cobwebs in his hair and simple tunic he wore. “We were traveling and were assaulted by the spiders in your woods that you have failed to keep under control. It was amidst our escape from their clutches that we were apprehended by your people.”
Thranduil raised one thin eyebrow, skeptical, “Where are you traveling to?”
Thorin clenched his jaw, glaring at the elf wishing that he would drop dead. “That is our business and ours alone.”
“I think not Oakenshield, you are in my lands without permission to determine if you are a threat or not I need to know the nature of your business.”
Thorin stubbornly kept his mouth shut, he had said all that he was going to. Thranduil inspected the faces of the other dwarrows in the Company, all looking back at him with the same expression as their leader. He wanted to curse, he would never get the information out of these dwarrows, however the hobbit was still trembling underneath his hand and Thranduil knew exactly what his plan of action would be. Turning his back to the dwarrows he made his way back to his throne standing before it.
“Take them away put them in the dungeons” ordered Thranduil, his voice full of authority as he paused for a moment before continuing. “But leave the hobbit.”
It surprised the elves how much the dwarves resisted as they were dragged from the throne room, yelling insults at the elves while others cried for the hobbit. Even the hobbit struggled against their king and managed to get lose and cling to a dwarf with a strange hat.
“It’s going to all right” assured Bofur to Bilbo, hugging him the best he could as the elves came and dragged them apart. The voices of the dwarves became fainter and fainter until the only sounds Bilbo could hear was the sounds of his own sobs as he was dragged back to his position and forced again to kneel before the King of Mirkwood.
Notes:
I figured if Bilbo didn't have the ring, he naturally would have been captured by the spiders and elves. Hoped you enjoyed!
***A/N if you ever seen any old pirate movies or even the Goonies, you have seen this move when a sailor stabs a sail and uses his weight to fall to the deck.
Chapter 11: The Elven King part 1
Summary:
Breaking Bilbo is harder then what the Elven King Expected
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The King stalked around the hobbit, he had never seen a dwarf fight for something that wasn’t a dwarf. Yet they had fought for this hobbit, he stopped his circuit before the hobbit. “What is your name hobbit?” asked the King.
Bilbo stubbornly remained silent reining in his sobs; he refused to tell this Elven King anything. Thranduil continued on regardless of not getting an answer from Bilbo. “What are you doing with the group of dwarrows?” he asked pausing for an answer that never came. “It is unheard of to find one of your kind so far East. So it makes me wonder what Thorin has planned. He might have tempted you away from your home with words of a noble quest and reclaiming a homeland. But dwarves are greedy creatures with love for only their treasure, many can't see beyond their greed. Do you know why Smaug came to Erebor, it was because of Thror’s greed, it attracted the dragon. No matter what these dwarves have told you little hobbit they do not care about you, they will use you and then forget about you. Such is the nature of dwarves. Your loyalty is wasted on them; they will turn on you on the end.”
Bilbo lifted his head to glare at the Elven King, “You’re wrong” he whispered, not able to stop himself from speaking.
Thranduil looked down at the hobbit with sympathy on his face. “Oh little hobbit you are too naïve about the ways of the world. Everybody in Middle Earth knows that dwarves care only for treasure, it is their greatest flaw. But I am curious Halfling, how did Thorin plan on entering the mountain, when the front doors are sealed?”
Bilbo’s gaze returned to the floor, “I won't say.”
Thranduil sighed and sat back on his throne. “Tell me Halfling and I will have my guards personally escort you back to the Shire tonight. Before you answer think of this, what do you really owe these dwarrows?”
Bilbo thought back to all the good memories that he had of the Company jokes with Bofur, recipe sharing with Bombur, Fili, Ori, and Kili calling him Uncle along with many others. Cold metal beads resting against his neck also reminded him that he was kin, the dwarrows were family and he wouldn’t betray them.
Lifting his head to meet Thranduil gaze, he smirked slightly. “No, sorry I don’t make deals with people who are over two feet taller than me and have no beards.”
Thranduil frowned, it would seem the hobbit would be difficult but less difficult then a dwarf. It wouldn’t take long for the hobbit to break like glass if Thranduil put enough pressure on him and then the Elven King would know everything he wanted about Thorin Oakenshield’s quest. Glaring down at the hobbit from down his nose he spoke. “You have made a grave mistake Master Hobbit” he turned to one of his guards. “Put him in a cell far away from the others, I don’t want the dwarrows to be informed of a single detail about the hobbit.”
As the hobbit was lead out of his hall Thranduil pondered. He was certain the hobbit would break, hobbits were soft creatures that loathed violence and avoided wars.
-----------------------------------------------=--------------------------------------------------------=
“Whats the elf’s game, singling Bilbo out like that?!” asked Kili out loud as soon as he was sure that the elves were out of hearing range, he hated that he was in a separate cell from Fili, but at least he could hear his brother only a few cells down.
“It’s a gamble the elf is making” sighed Balin, “He knows of hobbits, probably knows of their mannerisms. He also knows of the stubbornness of the dwarves, and figures that Bilbo will be the first to crack. Probably filling the poor lads head full of doubt in hopes he does break, and being forced into solitude will re-enforce his words. There is no worse enemy then the mind when it’s all alone.”
Bifur laughed at these words, “Thranduil is mistaken, and soon he will learn that the hobbit is stronger than the rest of us combined and not so easily broken” he growled out in Khuzdal.
The echoing confirmitatives echoed in the dungeon as each dwarf agreed, their hobbit was strong, no poncey weed-eater was going to get the better of him.
---------=-------------A few weeks later----------------------=--------------
In a lone cell quite a distance away from the dwarrows, Bilbo shivered with cold pulling the thin blanket close around him, the slight clink of metal echoing in the room. Thranduil had degraded him further by shackling his feet, constricting his movements. A part of Bilbo knew Thranduil was trying to break him by humiliating him, chaining him like an animal to stew in his own thoughts with nary a kind word spoken to him in the long weeks he had been there, not a single kind touch. Despite himself a part of Bilbo believed the Elven King’s cruel words. The dwarrows had made it very clear before Goblin Town that they barely tolerated him.
He has been lost ever since he left home, he has no place amongst us.
He can't even wield a sword, such a weak creature.
I cannot guarantee his safety, nor will I be responsible for his fate.
He wouldn’t survive a minute on his own.
Can't even ride a pony, all he is doing is slowing us down.
He should have never come, he has no place amongst us
These and many other insults swirled around in Bilbo’s head as sat alone in the dark, remembering the early days of the journey. He tried to argue with himself that was in the past, that he had a family now that cared about him. Yet with each time he was brought to Thranduil his head was filled with more doubts. The elf’s words even followed him into his dreams, the images of his family glaring and sneering at him telling Bilbo that he was worthless, weak, and they had made a mistake by adopting him as part of their families, then the dreams would change. Sometimes he was back on the cliff and instead of Thorin saving him, the dwarf would watch the hobbit fall to his death, others he was back in the Goblin Caves and the dwarrows escaped with Gandalf while Bilbo was left on the Bone Mangler to be pulled apart. The newest nightmare had the dwarrows leaving him to the mercy of the Trolls, and Bilbo would end up in the pot for the Trolls supper boiling alive. He would wake up from these dreams shaking and gasping for breath and for the rest of the night would put his head upon his knees and rock back and forth.
The stress of the hours being questioned by Thranduil, fearing for the fate of the Company, and the Nightmares was taking its toll on the hobbit. He felt exhausted all the time, too tired to even glare at Thranduil during their daily interrogation. He hated the smirk that the King would send his son, looking extremely proud of what he was doing.
Thranduil was certain that the hobbit would break soon, could tell by the hunched way he held his shoulder, by the bags under his eyes, and the glare that was no longer present. Though the stubborn thing had yet to say anything, Thranduil hadn’t heard him speak since the first day, he would have thought he was mute.
“Why must we go through this every day Master Hobbit. You force me to treat you like a prisoner when you could be an honored guest?” sighed Thranduil, his voice thrown to be welcoming but also sad, dangling a prize no hobbit should be able to refuse. “I’ve heard hobbits have love for great food, feasts will be thrown in your honor with music and laughter and a warm bed at the end of it. The palace grows cold as you might have noticed; I can give you a room with a large bed with your own fire and have a warm bath drawn. I know that after weeks of travel a warm bath can do wonders.”
Bilbo refused to look at the King, afraid that he would see the longing in his eyes for each and every one of those things. He wanted to be warm again, full of good food, and surrounded by company. But he didn’t want the elves company, he wanted his family. Wanted their strong presences that made him feel completely safe, to hear their booming laugh that shook his bones, heck he even wanted the dish throwing, burping, and lack of manners. He was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of rustling cloth and suddenly Thranduil face was inches away from his. He tried to scoot away from the nearness of the King but found himself stopped by Thranduil grabbing his chin.
“I can see it in your eyes Halfling, you want all that I have offered, just give in hobbit the dwarrows are not worthy of your loyalty.”
Bilbo closed his eyes and turned his face away letting that be his answer. With eyes closed his missed the fierce scowl that crossed Thranduil face at his refusal. The only hint Bilbo got that Thranduil was displeased was that the fingers tightened their hold. “What is it Halfling, what makes you so different from the rest of your kind? Why would you leave your home, unless you were not welcomed.”
Bilbo couldn’t help the flinch as the words stuck to close to home, remembering the cruel words from Lobelia, and the cold shoulder many hobbits had given him for being part Took. The way his Aunts and Uncles looked at his home in envy and make passing remarks on how it was too big for a single hobbit like himself and then bring up the number of children they had. The worst was when they would gossip at him as he visited Violets grave every year, saying he should move on. How could he move on, just forget about his other half, his soulmate, the one he was supposed to love forever. He couldn’t look at another woman’s face without seeing Violets. He could practically feel the smirk on Thranduil’s face as he hummed though his eyes remained closed, another chink had been found in Bilbo’s armor.
Bilbo opened his eyes when he felt his face being tilted and the brand was turned towards the light. “Such a curious thing this symbol, I have never seen it before.” This time there was no Thorin to stop the Elven King and one slim finger rested on Bilbo check and slowly began to trance it out.
Bilbo suddenly wasn’t in the Elven Kings hall, he was back in Goblin Town, his body thrumming in pain as the King held him aloof and began to carve into his check
“Now all will know that you belong to Goblin kind, your death will be long in coming. You will not die today, but by the time we are done today you will never be called Halfling again.”
The fallout was worse than any of the elves could have imagined.
---------------------------=-----------------------------------=
Legolas wandered the halls that evening, wondering if his Father was doing the right thing with the situation of the dwarrows and hobbit, especially the hobbit. His ears were still echoing with the screams that came from the hobbit when his Father touched the brand on his face. It had startled all the elves in the throne room, the hobbit had thrown himself as far as he could from Thranduil and curled into himself and cried. He flinched away from any that approached and cried harder when someone actually touched him.
That was until he started to throw punches at any that came near, a look of desperation on his face. The hobbits eyes were far away, caught up in a flash back. In the end it took three elves to subdue him and take him back to his cell. Legolas wondered if that was the reason the dwarf king had not wanted the hobbits face to be touched, the bloody dwarf knew that this would happen.
A faint melody reached the elf’s ears as he wandered. Feeling curious he followed the source until he was standing in the hallway that held the hobbit. Creeping forward silently he stood looking in at the hobbit whose gaze was focused on the east wall.
Home is behind, the world ahead
And there are many paths to tread
Through shadow, to the edge of night
Until the stars are all alight
Mist and shadow
Cloud and shade
Alll shall Fade
All shall fade
“That was beautiful, but sorrowful” murmured Legolas after the last note had faded. The hobbit didn’t look surprised to see him standing there, his green eyes were shadowed and his shoulders hunched as if carrying a great weight. He looked haunted, no longer the defiant creature that would glare and tell his Father ‘No’. He sighed, knowing that it was the elves fault.
Bilbo snorted, a spark coming back into his eyes, as he coolly looked at Legolas. “Do you expect me to be singing something happy, because if you did I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you. I’m afraid my mood isn’t one someone would consider jolly.”
Legolas looked taken aback, this was the most he had heard the hobbit say the entire time he had been in Mirkwood. Bilbo gave another humorless laugh at the face of the young elf, before it turned hard again. “What do you want?”
“Nothing, I just heard singing and it led me to you” answer Legolas truthfully, crouching down and sitting down in front of the cell. “Does the song mean anything?”
The hobbit eyes the Prince and for a moment Legolas thinks that he wasn’t going to answer him. “It’s a mourning song, it fits the mood I am feeling” answered Bilbo mildly, fingers playing with his Took bead.
“I am sorry if my Father brought back unpleasant memories for you” replied Legolas making sure to put all his sincerity into his apology.
“Your Father is King Thranduil?” asked Bilbo surprised, he had thought that the elf was Second in Command under the red haired she-elf.
Legolas chuckled at the shocked expression on Bilbo’s face. “Prince Legolas at your service Master Hobbit.” Bilbo nodded his acknowledgement but didn’t offer his name in return, his mind going back to what Legolas said before.
“I should have excepted it, Thorin basically challenged him too on the first day” muttered Bilbo, anger building back up. “And of course being a simple hobbit like myself no bad memories could possibly be attached to something that was carved in my face” Bilbo said harshly. “Now if you don’t mind Prince Legolas, I would like to rest before I’m brought in front of your king once again. I have had enough company of Elves today.”
Legolas flinched at the venom in the hobbit’s voice, but respected the hobbit’s wishes and quickly picked himself up from the floor and walked away.
Bilbo waited until he was sure Legolas was gone before he slowly opened his shirt, hands traveling to the wound that the spiders had given him. His agitated breathing had shot pain through his side, and brought his attention to it. He grimaced when he pulled his hand back and saw the blood that came back. His flash back had caused him to fight with the elves thinking that they were goblins and in the process he had reopened this wound. Ripping off a piece of binding from his ribs he dipped it into his remaining water and cleaned it the best he could before buttoning his shirt back up and pulling his coat closer around him he tried to fall asleep.
Notes:
Decided to break this chapter in half, and give you guys an update instead of making you wait longer. Hope you like!
Chapter 12: The Elven King part II
Summary:
Thorin plots, Bilbo suffers, and Balin comforts.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
As the weeks went by and nothing changed, the Company’s spirits began to sink. The Elven King seemed to have forgotten about the dwarrows in his possession, Balin often feared what this meant for Bilbo. There was no doubt in the older dwarfs mind that Thranduil was trying his hardest to turn the young hobbit against them. Balin knew that even the strongest of minds could break from the solitude and doubts Thranduil would plant, Balin wouldn’t blame Bilbo if he did. It didn’t help that the elves refused to say anything to them about Bilbo, every time a meal was brought many of his fellow dwarrows demanded news about the hobbit. They had been there for about four weeks before Thorin made a gamble that he hoped would pay off. The blonde that had threatened him was surveying the dwarrows like he did every week, Thorin waited until he walked past before he started.
“I know the game your King is playing,” said Thorin making sure the blonde twat could hear him. “The hobbit will not break he’s too Took.” He made sure to spat this word out like an insult, around him the Company began to murmur in khuzdul in confusion, some demanding to know what Thorin was doing, Thorin bit back a smirk this was working into his plan perfectly. The harsh sounds of khuzdul made it seem that they were agreeing with Thorin and calling Bilbo a number of things.“The Mountains will crumble to dust before he betrays his Company.”
As expected the blonde came back to his cell and looked at the seated King with a strange look in his eye. “You seem confidant Dwarf.”
Thorin prayed to Mahal that Bilbo would understand the next bit, for he knew his words would be carried back to Thranduil. “How do you think he got that brand on his face, his loyalty to us is guaranteed.” He made his face smirk evilly, and knew he had succeeded when rage filled the young elf’s eyes as he glared at Thorin.
“I knew dwarrows were barbaric, but to do that to a member of your own Company” the twat said, disgust plain in his voice. Legolas could see in his mind’s eye Bilbo’s flashback a few days ago when Thranduil had touched the brand, he felt sick to learn that the dwarrows were responsible for it.
Thorin knew he had him hooked, and he moved in for the kill. “Why would I care for someone that was not a dwarf not kin, though I don’t have to explain it to you. Your kind did the exact same thing when you refused to help hundreds of dwarrows as they wandered the wildness; women, children, an entire nation was forced to suffer. So you tell me elf who is truly the barbarian, Bilbo is alive despite my actions toward him, yet over a fourth of my people died because of your kinds actions.”
The elf bared his teeth at the dwarf, but he couldn’t mask the flash of guilt in his eyes when Thorin mentioned the lost lives of his people. The son of Thranduil left without another word leaving the dungeon silent except for the sound of the Company’s breathing.
“That was a risk Thorin” said Balin quietly breaking the silence.
Thorin sighed and stood up and rested his forehead against the bars. “I know Balin, but Bilbo needs to know that we believe in him, as you said we don’t know what Thranduil is putting in his head and we didn’t really get along for most of this quest. Old doubts are prone to come to the surface when we are in our lowest point.” Many times in Thorin’s long life this had been true, and he didn’t want Bilbo to start doubting that the dwarrows actually cared for him. “I didn’t lie to the elf Balin, if he chooses to mistake my words to mean something else then it is his fault.”
Indeed Thorin’s words were carried back to the Elven King, whispered into the pointed ears during a break in the council meeting causing a small smile to grace the usually stoic King’s face. Thranduil didn’t waste any time, calling his council meeting to an end and ordering his son to bring the hobbit to his throne room immediately.
Bilbo knew something was different when an elven guard came to his cell door, his daily audience with the king usually happened after the third bell of the morning, but it was a little after the first bell. All he wanted to do was sleep, the spider wound had begun to leak a clear fluid each time he moved his torso breaking the scab. Despite his best efforts it was slowly becoming infected, and he knew that a fever had set in. He was thankful that at least the bruising on his wrist was healing, but was still tender due to the fact everyday it was tied behind his back for his meeting with the King, Bilbo blessed Ori for his fingerless gloves every day for being a cushion for his wrists and for hiding his injury.
Once again Bilbo was brought before the Elven King, like he had every day since he was imprisoned. But something seemed different today, Thranduil had a look of triumph on his face and Bilbo feared that something had happened to his family. Thranduil made the show of asking all the usually questions that he always did, but at the end instead of saying the same doubts he shared a confident smirk with his son.
“All this time Master Hobbit I thought a sense of loyalty stayed your tongue, but to find out from the dwarf kings mouth that it is because of fear. He seems to have you on a short leash if you fear him even separated from him like you are.”
Bilbo slowly raised his head, “What did Thorin tell you?” he asked, his voice shaky from misuse, which the elves mistook for fear.
Thranduil looked down at the hobbit with a fake look of pity as he nodded to his son.“Legolas, tell the hobbit what exactly the dwarf said” ordered Thranduil.
Legolas looked down at the hobbit. “The dwarf king told me that, the hobbit will not break he’s too Took.” He made sure to spat the word just like Thorin did. “The Mountains will crumble to dust before he betrays his Company. When I asked him why he sounded so confidant he said, how do you think he got that brand on his face, his loyalty to us is guaranteed. He looked so proud at that moment and then he said why would he care for someone that was not a dwarf not kin.”
Bilbo was frozen he could only repeat the words Legolas had just said in his head as Thranduil began to speak again
“He said you were too Took, that the brand he gave you on your face guaranteed your loyalty to his Company, it is why you wouldn’t break” summarized the king, making sure to drive the message in again, “I personally will guarantee your safety if you tell us the plan.”
It was a mistake on Thranduil and Legolas’s part to assume that the word Took was an insult in Khuzdul, instead it sent a spark back into almost defeated spirit of the hobbit as a warm feeling began to spread from his heart. Bilbo couldn’t help the small smile that light up his face, the full message Thorin was sending sinking in. Thorin had found a way to reassure Bilbo without the elves knowing the wiser, telling him that he knew that he was loyal to the Company and wouldn’t break while reminding him that he was a Took. The triumph look on Thranduil’s face slide from his face fast as he took in the look of happiness on Bilbo’s face at the new spark in his eyes, a feeling that he had just been duped made his eyes flash with anger that quickly wiped the smile off of Bilbo’s face.
He turned to his son, “Bring me Thorin Oakenshield” his voice full of anger. Bilbo felt fear course through him as he was dragged to the foot of the throne. He stifled a cry as long fingers gripped his hair and yanked his head back. The grip remained as Legolas dragged Thorin into the throne chamber. He snarled as he saw the position Bilbo was in. Ignoring the elves he focused his attention on Bilbo. Taking in all the changes since the last time he had seen him. Their burglar looked haggard, his face pale with dark shadows under his eyes looking even thinner than he had in Mirkwood. It made Thorin’s blood boil to see the condition Bilbo was in, though he didn’t let any of this anger show when he met Bilbo’s eyes.
“Are you okay little one?” he asked, surprising their audience with the soft tone he adopted.
“I’ll be fine” managed Bilbo from his position. “The Company?” he struggled to say as his head was bent back further.
“Fine, the boys-“
“Silence!” ordered Thranduil pulling hard on Bilbo’s hair making him whimper in pain, making Thorin growl again. “You think you are so clever Oakenshield, you knew that if you spoke badly about the hobbit my son would repeat it to me and I would use your words to sway the hobbit.”
Thorin snorts despite himself, standing straighter he made the majestic aura roll off of him in waves, though he might be dirty and stripped of everything he had, he was still a King. “You elves think you are so wise, always looking down upon other races because we are mortal, you think you are better than everyone else. Yet I see an arrogant elf, who would believe every terrible word that came out a dwarf’s mouth without a single thought that it might be a lie. Like your son did when I implied that I did the damage to the hobbit, a member of my own Company. Honor, loyalty, and a willing heart was all I required, and when I called upon them, they all came all fourteen. Our bonds have been forged together through fear and blood, and these bonds are too strong for you to break.”
Thranduil was still during Thorin speech, his grip loosening in Bilbo hair until it rested on his neck. Fear ran down his spine as Thranduil began to drum his finger on his bare neck, pressing his finger nails into the hobbits skin.
Without any kind of warning, Thranduil hands tightened painfully around Bilbo’s neck, and he was being thrown forward. Thranduil let out an unmanly scream of frustration as he turned away from the dwarf and hobbit, slipping into elvish as he began to rant.
Bilbo landed next Thorin, groaning as he landed full on his ribs his arms still tied behind his back. Thorin snarled and brought his booted feet ontop of the elves feet who stood with their hands on his shoulders. The action had the desired affect and both let go of him in shock and pain, Thorin immediately dropped down and gathered Bilbo into his arms, clutching him tightly to his chest.
“Nadadith” he whispered clutching the hobbit, feeling the heat that came off of him. Thorin snaked a hand to touch Bilbo’s forehead, horrified to feel that Bilbo was fighting a fever once again. How far were the elves willing to go to break the hobbit, he wondered, were they going to let his fever rise until he was hallucinating and unable to resist them. Bilbo buried his head into Thorin’s shoulder, shivering at the sudden amount of heat that surrounded him that poured off of the dwarf.
“I don’t feel good Thorin” whispered Bilbo, his voice low enough that only Thorin could hear above Thranduil’s tyrant.
“I know little one, I know” Thorin said gently, “The Company’s been so worried about you, you should hear them when the elves bring us our meals, they all demand to know how you are, they will be very upset to hear about this especially Oin. You will be lucky to get out of a bed next time he sees you.”
Bilbo smiled slightly, “That sounds about right, between you and me I’d rather be at his mercy than these elves.”
Thorin chuckled slightly before sobering, should he tell Thranduil the plan in exchange for getting his healers to treat Bilbo. Bilbo seemed to know what he was thinking cause he was immediately scowling at Thorin. “Don’t you dare Thorin, don’t make a deal with this elf it’s not worth it.”
“But you are Bilbo” replied Thorin, “I’d rather see this quest fail than see any of this Company perish.”
Bilbo looked stunned at Thorin’s confession, Thorin gently pulled Bilbo closer and hugged his as tight as he could. “No Thorin, please don’t say anything. If you do all this will be for naught, when I signed that contract I made a promise to help you get your home back and I will see that promise through you stubborn dwarf” mumbled Bilbo into Thorin’s chest. “Please, I haven’t dealt these past few weeks by myself just for you to do this. Promise me Thorin you won't.”
“Bilbo I-” Thorin began to say, when suddenly a blow to the head stunned him making him loosen his grip on Bilbo. Suddenly his arms were empty and he was being dragged away from the crying hobbit. “Bilbo!” cried Thorin just before the doors slammed shut. Thorin growled and tried to shake the guards so that he could get Bilbo and bring him with him back to the safety of the Company. He continued to struggle and throw out curses at the elves until he was thrown into his cell and the door locked behind him. He wordless roared at the backs of the elves and slammed his foot at the bars of the door, actually making a small dent in the metal with the force of his anger.
“What did Thranduil want” demanded most of the Company as soon as the elves were gone and Thorin calmed slightly down. Thorin growled loudly efficiently silencing the Company.
“My plan worked, Thranduil repeated my words to Bilbo, but he was most displeased when he found out it was a trick. Bilbo was there when I brought in. Thranduil became angry after he confronted me and threw Bilbo across the room in a fit of rage. He landed close to me and that’s how I found out that Bilbo’s sick, I could feel the fever on his skin, one of his wounds must have opened up.” Yells of outrage filled the dungeon along with Oin’s loud swearing. “The worst is that he refused to let me trade our plan for Thranduil’s help. Told me that if I did, that what he has gone through was for nothing, wanted me to promise him that I wouldn’t.”
“Tell me you didn’t promise him that” demanded Bofur, his voice losing the cheerful note that it usually had, replaced by anger and fear for his friend.
“Of course not, I was dragged away before I could answer him” snapped back Thorin, leaning his forehead against the cool bars, cursing himself for his plan that only seemed to have brought more pain to their hobbit. The dwarrows murmured amongst themselves processing the new information, each worried about Bilbo, none moreso than Oin.
Oin knew how fragile Bilbo still was, better than the others. His healing bones were still fragile, being thrown would not be good for them. Plus his immune system was still recovering from fighting the last infection, another would devastate it. Only Oin knew that there were times in Mirkwood that Bilbo would fight to stay on his feet as his muscles would spasm and cramp an after effect of the bone mangler. Bilbo didn’t want the others to know and Oin had no choice but to keep quiet due to his healer’s oath. Those days Oin made sure to be the one who was partnered with Bilbo for the night, doing the best he could to ease the lingering pain, wishing that they had a campfire and enough water to boil rags to wrap around the legs to relax the muscles, the best he could do was offer soothing words and massages with peppermint oil. He hated being locked in this cell, his healer side demanding that he find Bilbo and refuse to let him out of bed for a year. He let out some truly nasty curses when supper was brought to them that night, slipping in some elvish that he learned as a kid.
Nori closed his eyes concentrating on the murmurs of the guards; they gossiped worse than housewives something that he was grateful in his job. “Thranduil was furious; you heard what he did to punish the Halfling.”
“Yes, Gwin was in the forge when they dragged him in…” the next part was to lost to Nori, as the two shifted positions. “-he’s tired of being made a fool, King Thranduil wants results, I’ve heard he’s ordered no meals are to be given until the Halfling learns to cooperate.”
The first snorted, “Shame we can't do the same with this lot, I think being collared and starved would teach these dwarrows some manners.”
Nori’s eyes popped open, shocked. When had the Mirkwood elves fallen this far? They were growing as cold and sick as the forest they called their home, blinded so much that they couldn’t see beyond themselves. He waited until he was sure that they were gone before he began to speak.
“The guards had some bad news. It didn’t go so well after you were dragged out Thorin. From what I can gather from there chatter Thranduil had Bilbo dragged to the forge and collared because you made a fool out of him, and until Bilbo starts to cooperate there refusing him meals.”
“They’re going to kill him” exclaimed Bombur, shocking everyone with his loud tone. Bombur had seen starvation it is why he became a cook, to try to stop it from happening. He hated the images that flooded his mind of Bilbo so sickly thin, nothing but skin and bones with hollow eyes. Bilbo had already lost a frightening amount of weight compared to when they left Bag End. But Bilbo never complained and never asked for more but Bombur had always managed to slip something extra into Bilbo’s portion when he started to take notice of the change.
“We need them to listen to us, but after what happened they might not listen” argued Dori. “Even if you did offer to trade who knows how long Thranduil will make you wait until he decides your worth his time.”
“Agreed brother mine, we need that blonde elf captain he listened to us once, we can convince him again. From the way he reacted to Thorin’s lies he feels sorry for Bilbo or at the least guilt. I suggest one of the boys do the talking, he might trust their words more than one of us older ones.”
Dwalin growled, “Mahal help Bilbo, we got to rely on Fili and Kili.”
The boys immediately scowled and protested, “We wouldn’t fail Uncle Bilbo like that. Plus Ori can help to.”
“Balin, do you think this is wise?” asked Thorin, wanting to hear his mentor’s opinion before any decision was made.
“I think we are running out of options, if this plan fails you must make the decision on whether this quest is worth the life of our kin.”
“Bilbo asked me the same thing Balin, and I would rather this quest fail than let a member of my Company, my Family die when I could do something.”
A plan was quickly hatched and agreed upon, and now it was a waiting game for the young blonde captain to make an appearance. The dwarrows got their chance later that night, when Legolas made his way to the dungeons, his glare fierce as he looked at them. Nori made sure to cough, signaling the boys to start.
Ori took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. “Master Elf, something is wrong with the Halfling.” He was proud of himself that his voice didn’t stutter as he talked, though he did flinch when the elf stopped and turned on his heels to pierce Ori with his eyes.
“Indeed, what new trick is this?” he demanded. “You think I would fall for this again.”
“The hobbit is sick” said Kili urgently. “Please help him.”
“Lies, another one of your tricks” spat Legolas his anger of being tricked earlier coming to the surface.
“Please Master Elf” begged Fili grabbing Legolas by his tunic through the bars before he could leave. “Bilbo had been grievously injured and only partially healed before we continued into Mirkwood. We only ask of his health, we fear the fight with the spiders may have opened some of his old wounds, My King felt his face flush with fever yesterday. We are afraid for him Master Elf and you would deny us any reassurance on his health because of your king’s cruelty.”
This made Legolas pause, “Bilbo?” he asked.
Fili smiled faintly, “That’s his name, Master Elf, Bilbo Baggins.”
Legolas hands clenched and unclenched as he slowly walked away, he was conflicted. The last words he believed from this group had his Father flying into a rage. But what would they gain from this? Was it all just another sort of code, another hidden message for the hobbit? He was just confused on what was right and wrong, before this Company had arrived he knew what to do, he was part of the guard, he fought the Spiders and the all the other dark creatures in Mirkwood to protect his home, loyal to his King and Father. Now he was conflicted he wasn’t sure about what his Father was doing to the hobbit was right, he knew it was important to learn what the dwarrows plans were so that the elves were prepared for what came after. He bared his teeth, he need to not think for a while, swinging by his rooms he gathered his gear and headed out into the forest, perhaps a fight with some spiders would get his mind off of it.
-=--------------------------------------------------=--------------------------=
The last spider gave a cry as Legolas stabbed Orcrist though his brain. The sense of satisfaction that usually came after clearing a nest of spiders didn’t help Legolas’s mood. He could still hear the blonde and black haired dwarrows voices in his head, begging him to check on the hobbit. Legolas sighed as began to make his way home in the pale light of dawn, he knew that the only way the voices would leave his thoughts was if he went and checked up on the hobbit, Bilbo Baggins.
--------------------------------------=-------------------------------=
Bilbo curled up tighter in a ball to conserve his body heat, his condition dramatically changed from the day before. Thranduil had been beyond furious after Thorin had been dragged back to the dungeons, and Bilbo truly felt afraid when the King had broken off mid-rant and an icy mask had slipped over his features. His voice calm as he ordered his guards to follow him, dragging the hobbit down to the forges were an iron collar had been fitted around his neck with a length of chain before being escorted back to his cell were the chain was fitted to a hook on a wall, while his cell was stripped of any comforts leaving him with only bare stone. Bilbo was at least grateful there was enough chain for him to be able to lie down on the floor, and curl up in a ball to conserve his body heat as night fell and the stone became colder and Bilbo could faintly see his breath. While the rest of his body froze, the spider wound felt like it was on fire, the skin around the wound an angry red. Not even the cold stones he lay on could stop the fire, a fire that Bilbo could practically feel was spreading. It was a restless night and Bilbo was glad when the sun began to rise, warming the cell. He groaned as he stretch, his body ached from where new bruises had formed from the day before. He wasn’t surprised when no one came to give him breakfast, he was dreading today’s session with Thranduil, know that he had had a day and a night to stew about the deception Thorin managed to pull. Yet the day passed and no one came to bring him to the Elven King, he was left alone, not one soul cast their shadow across his cell door. He felt more alone than usual, not realizing that he missed the sounds of the guards that usually passed his cell until the day stretched longer and the only sounds were the rumbling of his stomach and the clink of chains as moved slightly. This new punishment was worse than the others, never had Bilbo went an entire day without talking or seeing another soul, it was his worst nightmare to be completely alone. When he fell into an exhausted sleep his nightmares were worse than ever before.
He wandered the halls of Bag End, the sounds of laugher of his loved one echoing around him but Bilbo could never find them. Thranduil suddenly standing in front of him snapping the collar around his neck and throwing him in a bottomless pit leaving him falling into darkness. He jerked awake with a cry when something touched his shoulder, forgetting a moment he was on a leash he tried to throw himself away from the threat, only to be brought short cold metal biting into his neck and ankles. He fell to the ground breathing heavily while a voice told him to calm down, realizing he wasn’t alone in the cell Bilbo looked to see a blond elf.
Bilbo blinked at the elf, recognizing it as Thranduil’s son again though why he was in his cell was a mystery. “I apologize for startling you so, it wasn’t my intention.”
Bilbo raised an eyebrow, as he straightened himself, “What was you intention Master Elf?”
Legolas eyes grew intense as they looked at Bilbo as if studying him, it grew worse when a rattling cough shook Bilbo frame and Bilbo wondered mildly if he was getting a cold as well as fighting an infection. He drew his attention back to Legolas as the elf crouched down right in front of Bilbo, his face looking worried. “Your dwarrows are quite concerned about you Master Bilbo. They said you recently have only recovered from grievous wounds, they fear that you may have reopened a few.” Bilbo eyes widened with shock at the mention of his name, there was only one way that Legolas would know it and he been told by Bilbo’s dwarrows. It was with this in mind that he stayed rooted in his spot and didn’t try to fight as Legolas stretched out a hand and laid it against his forehead, concern shining in his eyes.
While Legolas could understand his father’s motives, he couldn’t agree with what he was doing with the hobbit. There was an air of innocence surrounding the creature, as though as he was still just a child, and despite what his kin had and was doing to him he was allowing Legolas to touch him. Bilbo’s eyes closed as Legolas’s warm had touched his face, not seeing the alarm that flashed in the elf’s eyes as he felt how hot Bilbo was. They jerked open when Legolas began to swear in Sindirian when he felt how hot Bilbo was.
Without warning, he grabbed at Bilbo’s cloths, ignoring Bilbo's protests. But Legolas was determined as he opened the coat and lifted the tunic, not expecting to be met with bandages that wrapped around Bilbo’s torso. The elf half expected the dwarrows to be feeding him lies again, but as he undid the wrappings he could see the yellowing of bruises that were still healing and the sores that told Legolas that the bandages had been there awhile and the fresh bruises that must have been caused when his Father had thrown the hobbit to the ground at Thorin Oakenshield’s feet. Legolas pushed past the guilt of what his Father did and concentrated on examining Bilbo further “How did you come by these injuries?”
Bilbo grimaced as Legolas applied a slight pressure to his ribs checking for the extent of the damage. "The Goblins weren't very kind," murmured Bilbo hissing through his teeth when a sore spot was jostled. Legolas barely kept the disbelief off his face as he pulled the tunic up further, Bilbo’s body was littered with scars that looked fairly new and old bruises that were a sickly yellow color along with a few fresh ones. It was obvious to Legolas that the hobbit had been tortured, and he passed it off as if the goblins had only slighted him.
The elf's hand felt wonderfully warm against Bilbo's freezing skin and he couldn't help the shiver that rocked his tiny frame. Sweeping his eyes over the torso of the hobbit Legolas soon found the source of the fever. On his side was a large jagged gash, heat seemed to pour from the area, the skin around an alarming shade of red. The faint smell of spider venom reached Legolas nose through the scent of infection. It would seem that the giant spider had missed the hobbit when it went to incapacitate him with his venom and instead ripped a large gash in the skin with its stinger. None had noticed this wound since the bindings for the ribs had absorbed the blood and the smell of infection had only been noticeable once the layers had been removed from Bilbo. He wondered how he and his fellow elves didn’t realize that the hobbit was falling ill during their care.
Pulling out the key he quickly undid the manacles that held the Halflings ankles and the collar and picked him up bridal style. The hobbit was very light in his arms to light, as he made his way towards the healing halls, calling out for the guards to inform the King and the healers that the hobbit had taken ill and he was taking him to the Healing Halls.
Legolas was swarmed with Healers as soon as he opened the door taking Bilbo from his arms. They bustled around the hobbit stripping him out of his cloths revealing even more wounds that Legolas hadn’t seen earlier. He couldn’t help but flinch at seeing the hobbit’s wrist, covered in deep bruising and the still healing cuts and bruises on the hobbits back. His sharp ears picking up bits and pieces of words the healers were saying, deep muscle bruising, half healed ribs, wrist recently broken. The list of injuries went on and on, and Legolas felt shame. Elves prided themselves as being observant yet none had noticed something wrong with Bilbo, how many days had he been burning with fever. Was he always that thin, Legolas wondered, counting ribs that were beginning to show. It was guilt that had him staying watching the healers work until they were done, the Halfling covered in salves and bandages sleeping peacefully in the large bed.
It was only then that he left going straight to his Father rooms, preparing himself for his Father’s anger for disobeying his orders for not only talking to the dwarrows about Bilbo, but also for going to see the hobbit. His Father didn’t look up as he entered, and Legolas had to wait until he was deemed more important than the book his Father was looking at before he was acknowledged.
“The Halfling?” asked Thranduil.
“Resting, he had a festered wound that he got while fighting the spiders. Wrappings for his healing ribs soaked the blood and hide the wound from us.”
Thranduil looked curious, as he stood deciding to go see this for himself. “His ribs were wrapped.”
Legolas nodded, “He made mention that it was Goblin’s doing.”
“Goblins, interesting” mused Thranduil, changing his path to the healing chambers.
The Halfling was still asleep when he entered the infirmly with his son, looking like a small child in the bed made for elves. His face was pale except for two spots of pink that dusted his cheeks the tell-tale sign of his fever. His torso was bare for the Elven King, the healers in the middle of applying poultices, to see the damage that had been hiding from him for all this time. He couldn’t help the regret that filled his being, as he reflected on the past few weeks he saw the truth. His guards reporting that the dwarrows asked everyday about the hobbit, and Oakenshield’s concern surrounding him. The dwarrows truly cared about what happened to this hobbit, somehow this tiny creature had earned the loyalty of thirteen dwarrows. But that was quickly replaced as another thought entered his head.
The hobbit had to be of value to the dwarrows, of course they would be worried. They wouldn’t have wanted their investment to die on them. Thranduil nodded, that explanation fitted better than the dwarrows actually caring for someone not of their kind. He wondered if he could use the sick hobbit as leverage, threaten to withhold treatment until Oakenshield revealed the whole plan. But he knew that if he did he would a lose a lot of support from his subjects, his own son among them. A son who was currently looking guiltily down at the hobbit, Thranduil would wait until after the hobbit had recovered before continuing with his plans, the dwarrows could just rot some more in their cells until the world was renewed. In a rare moment of public affection, Thranduil reached out and squeezed his sons shoulder in a silent apology for letting himself getting to wrapped up with breaking the hobbit and not realizing he was sick. Nodding his leave to the healers he gently took Legolas by the elbow and pulled him out of the room and leading him to his chambers before continuing to his own his thoughts conflicting on what he had done.
------------------------------------------------------------------=-------------------------------------=
Legolas stalked toward the dungeons that held the dwarrows, Bilbo was being too difficult; he didn’t trust the elves and barely let them treat him. He had thrown a pitcher at the head healer when he found that they had tampered with his braids that had been clasped with the two gold beads. After throwing it he had become hysterical, crying and shaking calling out names. He had calmed slightly when the beads were returned but had thrown a punch when an elf had tried to placate him by trying to braid them back in. It was so bad that they finally had to slip a sleeping draught into his water to calm him down. That was the final straw for Legolas, he stiffly began to march towards the dungeons determined to bring a dwarf back to the healing halls to calm the Halfling down.
The dwarrows were silent for once as the elf seemed to be sizing each one of them up, almost as if he was deciding something. Legolas made two rounds around the thirteen dwarrows before picking the one he had decided would cause him the least amount of trouble. He stopped in front of the elderly dwarf with the split beard and no braids.
“Master Dwarf if you would follow me” Legolas said as politely as he could as he opened the door. The dwarf looked surprised at Legolas before hiding it behind a calm mask. Thranduil had admitted to Legolas in private that he remembered this dwarf, being an advisor to Thror and Thrain and now apparently Thorin. Out of all of the prisoners, he was the only one that was not exceedingly rude and seemed to want no extra problem with the elves.
Balin followed the elf, expecting to be lead to the Throne room, but was surprised as he was lead down hallways that he didn’t recognize. They seemed lighter, airier, with fewer elves lingering in the hallways though they seemed relieved more than angry to see a dwarf. The elf stopped him in front of a door, Balin hide the confusion behind his political mask, until the blonde elf was ready to talk.
“We’ve tried everything dwarf to calm him down, but everything we try makes him even more upset”
The elf pushed the door open to reveal a large hall, filled with many beds with crisp white sheets all were empty except for one on the far side of the room, where a peek of copper curls could be seen.
Balin glared at the elf, realizing that this was a healing hall. “Whats wrong with him!” he demanded in a low voice.
“He’s running a fever from fighting an infected wound given to him by the spiders, we didn’t see it because oddly his ribs were wrapped and the wrappings hid it from us.”
Balin wanted to roll his eyes at the poorly hidden inquiry, this elf had a long way to go before he mastered Balin’s profession. “Elven healers are renowned across Middle Earth, surely you should have noticed something was wrong with a patient without being told” Balin said mildly making his way past the frozen elf and towards Bilbo’s bed.
“Ah Bilbo what have you done with yourself now?” asked Balin gently taking a seat on the bed, eyes roaming over the new wounds. The sound of Balin’s voice was enough to wake the lightly drugged Bilbo up, his eyes hopeful as they landed on Balin.
“Balin?” he asked reaching out his hand hesitantly as though he was afraid the dwarf would disappear if he touched him. Balin closed the gap and grabbed Bilbo’s hand and squeezed gently, Balin was glad he was sitting down when he suddenly found himself with a lap full of shuddering hobbit. Ignoring the elves watching them, Balin arranged Bilbo more comfortably in his lap while tucking a blanket around him, before rocking back and forth he quietly shushed Bilbo as he cried, much as he had when Fili and Kili were dwarflings and he was the only one around to comfort them. He mused as sat there holding Bilbo that compared to a dwarf, Bilbo was only slightly older then Fili, and was still young enough to want reassurances that things would turn out for the better. He sighed, Bilbo, Fili, Ori, and Kili were all forced to grow up to soon, their childhoods ruined by the unfairness of the world. He would hate to see the state of one of those three if they had had to endure what Bilbo did during these past few weeks, none had ever been separated from their brothers for very long. However Bilbo was a hobbit, a social creature, being isolated was beyond cruel, he was most likely touch starved and one of the many reasons he was allowing his pride to let him be held by Balin and comforted like a child who had a bad nightmare. Bilbo managed after a while to calm himself down and sit quietly with an odd sniffle here and there.
“Mm sorry Balin” Bilbo said after a few minutes of silence trying to pull away, embarrassed for acting like a fauntling. He was surprised when instead of being let go he was pulled tightly back to his original position and his face lifted until he was looking into Balin’s wise eyes.
“You listen here Bilbo; the others would not judge you for this. You have been isolated these long weeks while we are all only a few feet from each other. We all have faith in you laddie, Bifur is quite vocal in his opinion and you should believe in that he often sees things most do not” Balin said firmly looking deep into the hobbit’s eyes. “You have no reason to be ashamed.”
Tears gathered once again in Bilbo’s eyes and he buried his face in Balin’s fluffy beard. Balin kept up his kind administrations waiting once again for Bilbo to calm down before speaking again. “The elf said they couldn’t calm you, what did they do?” asked Balin softly rubbing soothing circles on Bilbo’s back.
“They took out my braids, took my breads” whispered Bilbo. “For a horrible moment all I could see again was the Goblin King. I threw a pitcher at one of them, and punched another when they tried to redo them. They had no right Balin, they had no right.”
Balin’s hands didn’t stop moving as the dwarf turned to glare at Legolas, the young elf tried not to shrink under the glare. “Your kind has made a grievous mistake. Only family or close friends are allowed to mess with braids, no one else is ever allowed to touch them. You’re lucky we are not in a dwarven kingdom or you would find the hand removed.”
The look of horror that crossed the young elf’s face was almost laughable, but what the elves did was no laughing matter. Ignoring the elf, he reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a small brush, he gently began to brush out Bilbo outragish curls slowly making the hobbit relax against him. Balin waited until all the tension was gone from Bilbo’s frame before he began to hum, rebraiding Bilbo’s hair back into his two customary braid. Afterwards he leaned against the head board, still humming softly as he contented himself with brushing his fingers through Bilbo’s curls, as the hobbit began to drift off into sleep with his fist clenched tightly in the dwarf’s tunic. It was only after he fell into a deep sleep that the lines in his face were smoothed out and one could really see how young Bilbo really was. Balin gently began to ease away from under Bilbo when he determined that he was deep enough asleep, until he was free. Smiling softly he gently tucked Bilbo back under the cover and soothed the hair off of his forehead to give his a gentle nudge as a good-bye. Turning around he studied the confused and shocked face of the young elf. Raising an eyebrow at the elf, it took only a second until the elf had gathered himself and began to lead Balin back to the dungeon. He expected no conversation but was surprised when half-way back the elf started to talk.
“I have to thank-you Master Dwarf for being able to calm him down, the healers were not having much luck,” said Legolas, the words of thanks heavy in his mouth. Balin smirked into his beard, it wasn’t every day one got thanks from a Woodland Elf.
“It’s only to be expected for one such as young as Bilbo, for him to panic when he’s scared and confused” said Balin carefully, as he expected the elf stopped in his tracks.
“What do you mean one such as young as Bilbo?” demanded the elf, his face neutral but Balin caught a bit of worry in his eyes.
Balin made sure to school his face into the one he used to use when he taught lessons to the boys, “Bilbo is a young hobbit by his standards and ours. He is just 7 years past his majority at 40, all hobbits are considered adults at 33.”
Balin hid a smile in his beard as the stunned elf lead him back to the dungeon, the rest of the Company were glad to see him whole, and were surprised by the smile on his face but knowing that for the first time since they had been captured that there was finally some good news.
Notes:
Hoped you liked, gonna take a while for the next chapter I literally only have a paragraph of ideas for it. As always thanks for reading!
Chapter 13: Escape Plans Made
Summary:
The dwarrows make plans on how to get to their hobbit.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Bilbo’s recovering,” announced Balin as soon as they were alone again. The older dwarf smiled at the sound of cheering that the rest of the Company let out with the confirmation that their hobbit was alive and recovering. When things had quieted down, Bofur was able to ask a question.
“How is he Balin, truly?” the miner asked.
Balin sighed slightly, “He’s as good as one can expect Bofur, he’s very weak. He sustained an injury while fighting the spiders that got infected and its taking a lot out of him to fight it. It would also seem that he injured a few elves and that was the main reason I was brought to him, to try to calm him down.”
“What!” demanded twelve voices at once.
“What did they do to him!” demanded Bifur, his voice prompting the others to fall silent. Bilbo was the most gentlest being Bifur knew, only resorting to violence when there was no other option like back on the cliff and the spiders in Mirkwood. The elves must have done something horrible for him to react that way.
Balin’s voice grew hard as he explained the circumstances. “They removed our braids from his hair, worse they took his beads. He admitted to me he had a flash back to the Goblin King, when he realized that they were gone and threw a pitcher at one, and punched another when they had the audacity to redo them” he said bluntly.
There was a shocked silence, none could quite believe that the elves had went that far.
“We have to get out of here” hissed Kili.
“And how do you suggest we do that!” demanded Fili, “We can't exactly walk through walls here Kili and we can’t exactly fight our way out either.”
Silence once again filled the dungeon, the dwarrows thinking on how they could rescue their hobbit and get out. In his cell Bofur scrapped his feet against the stones, taking in the tiles, looking but not seeing, until he suddenly focused his eyes on a chip in the masonry and the dirt underneath it.
“Fili, do you still have a dagger hidden about you?” he asked trying not to let the hope show in his voice.
“Uh, yeah I have a few left” said Fili uncertainly at the sudden request. Picking one of the bigger ones, Fili threw it to Dwalin across from him, who threw it to Gloin, who managed to throw it to Bofur. Bifur who was in the cell next to Bofur watched with curious eyes to see what his cousin was planning.
“Thanks” said Bofur as he knelt down next to the chip and inserted the tip under the tile. Making sure not to put too much pressure on the blade, Bofur slowly pried the tile up, his grin that hadn’t been seen anywhere on his face made an appearance as he pried more tiles up and finding nothing but dirt underneath that once broken was pretty loose underneath. “We might not be able to fight our way out, but underneath these tiles is dirt, we might be able to tunnel our way out of these cells and Balin could find Bilbo and we could find a way out of here.”
“How long would it take you to make a tunnel to the other side of your cell?” asked Thorin.
Bofur frowned and looked around his cell determining where would the best place to hide the tunnel and then counting off the paces to the door, taking in consideration on what tools he had at his disposal, how often the elves came around, and how big he would have to make it. “At least a week and a half, but if Bifur can manage to help I’d bump up my estimate to a week.”
Thorin sighed at the thought of another week locked in the cells, but if they could manage it it would be there last week in the company of the elves. “Start working immediately, Fili pass the rest of your daggers out, make sure Bifur gets one. I want everyone to start digging into a neighbor’s cell, make your way to Bofur’s. Dwalin keep watch for those pointy eared bastards. We have one chance at this, hid the dirt, and find ways to hid the entrances, and make sure your careful don’t work to fast we don’t need cave ins.”
With a determined air about them, the dwarrows quickly got to work, Fili’s daggers passed around to pry up the tiles in every cell. Everyone was tense knowing that if they was caught there would be consequences, some suspected if that those consequences would rain down on Bilbo as a way to punish them, but they didn’t speak of these fears aloud not wanting to put a voice to them just in case it made them true. A steady rhythm soon began to work itself out, with the help of Bofur and Bifur quietly beginning to sing an old mining tune, the steady beat of the song helping those in the Company that had never mined before. Slowly, with each bowl full of dirt dug, hope and purpose was renewed in the Company.
Bilbo lay quietly listening to the elves in the healing hall. Despite how much Bilbo wanted to make a huge fuss and have Legolas bring him another member of his family to calm him, he knew that the only way the elves would let their guard down was if he was patient, make no fuss. Apparently Thranduil was holding a feast to celebrate the harvest at the end of the week, and many of the elves were going to attend. The hobbit knew that this would be the best chance to escape, with so many elves distracted by the party and the wine that would be served. Bilbo just hoped that he would be strong enough to do this, he felt weakness in his muscles that hadn’t been there before, the spider infection had drained his reserves of strength that he had managed to regain since Beorn.
He was almost fully recovered, the elf medicine healing almost everything the bruises, the cuts, and his infection, his ribs and wrist were still tender though and were kept wrapped. Bilbo’s torso was now covered in a map of scars, so different from before when his torso was pale and unblemished. Now it was a battlefield, muscles that were once covered in a layer of fat were prominent as well as his ribs making him very lean looking, the scars adding another example of how he changed. He knew that if another hobbit ever saw his scars they would be repulsed but to him they were battle scars and he wasn’t ashamed of them, no matter what others would say about them. It didn’t escape his notice when the elves would flinch away from his scars and whisper about them especially the brand on his face. He supposed next to the elves flawless skin he looked hideous, a belief that was confirmed with each pitying look he was given, every lingering look on the brand though none touched. Bilbo had made it quite clear when one healer tried to touch it that the elf would have a broken hand if he continued, it helped that Legolas was nearby and backed Bilbo statement and no one dared touch the brand. In the days since Balin’s visit he had managed to communicate that he didn’t want to elves comfort, that unless they needed to apply new salves or bandages that there touches were unwelcomed and none dared touch his hair or beads when Legolas had muttered to the healers the grievous offense that had caused him by messing with them.
For the most part they left him alone and he was glad for that, the only elf that wouldn’t stay away was Legolas. He came daily to check on the hobbit, sometimes accompanied by the red-haired elf captain Taurial who did nothing but glare at Bilbo. It was apparent to Bilbo that Legolas felt guilt about what had happened to the hobbit, and making sure that Bilbo was doing okay was a way to cope with his guilt. Bilbo didn’t blame him though, and looked forward to the little visits that broke up his day of solitude. It was funny that the only elf in Mirkwood that felt the slightest sense of guilt about what happened to him was the King’s son. Bilbo was glad that the King had essentially forgotten about him, and hadn’t called for him to kneel before him in the throne room since he had been taken to the healers halls.
But he didn’t know how much longer that would last. So as the days passed and the day of the feast came closer, Bilbo planned and caught as much sleep as possible willing his body to recover faster. Forcing himself to keep calm, when all he wanted to do was make a fuss so that they would bring another member of his family to calm him down. But he knew that the only way the elves would lower their guard enough was to be the model patient, no fighting against the elves but doing what they said. This might be his only chance, and even if they were caught again, at least they tried to find a way out.
Suddenly it seemed the days had run out, and it was the day of the feast and as the minutes passed slowly, Bilbo prepared to go find his family and was determined that he wouldn’t be separated from them again. In the dungeons, a crack began to form in the hallway outside of the dwarrows cells.
Notes:
I know its a bit short, but this story has been fighting me something terrible. So sorry for taking so long, I'll try not to be so long for the next chapter and hopefully it will be longer, but its hard to think of a scenario that hasn't been used before. So I hope you liked, thanks for reading.
Chapter 14: Escape part I
Summary:
The Company is reunited
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Bilbo stalked the halls of the elves blending into the shadows when one of the woodland elves appeared, like most big folk they hardly looked down as they walked past. As to be expected the healer halls had emptied pretty quickly once the feast had begun. It was too easy for Bilbo to slip out of the halls without anyone noticing. The problem was finding his dwarrows, he had no clue where to go, he knew he had only a few hours before someone would eventually check on him so he would have to be fast.
He paused again as he heard the sound of yet another elf approaching. He slipped back into the shadows, just in time as the dark haired elf walked past with a tray that looked like held a bottle of wine and a plate of food. But what drew Bilbo’s attention was the slight jangling of metal coming from the elf, and Bilbo almost cried in delight at the sight of the keys that hanged off the elf’s belt. He knew that these were what he needed to free his dwarrows once he found them.
Bilbo silently followed the guard with the keys further into the elf kingdom than he had before. Goosebumps started to appear on his arms, as a chill filled the air as the sound of running water came louder in the hobbits ears. If he guessed he would say there were entering the lowest levels of the kingdom.
The elf made his way into what looked like a cellar; that was filled with barrels. Bilbo hid in the shadow of the doorway as the key elf set down his tray in front of a blond elf who looked surprise.
“That is some of Thranduil’s finest wine” said the blond elf.
“Indeed,” said the dark haired elf, pulling out a pair of goblets “Why should Thranduil have all the fun, while we are stuck here? It’s not like the dwarrows can escape and the barrels aren’t going anywhere either” returned the elf, filling both goblets to the brim with wine. “We will dump the barrels for Laketown after our own celebrations.”
Barrels? He looked around taking in the size of the barrels, they would be big enough to stuff a dwarf in, even Bombur. But how did the barrels get into the river, he could hear the river but didn’t see were they could be dumped. Leaving the two elves to drink, Bilbo slowly began to explore the cellars, searching for the way to enter the river. It was quite a large room, and Bilbo looked into every cranny trying to find the river.
It happened when Bilbo began to cross a clear expanse of boards, heading towards a stack of barrels on the other side of the room. He had only took two steps when the world began to tilt, the floor sinking underneath his feet. The roar of the water got louder, and Bilbo scrambled trying to climb the suddenly tilted board. After a few tense moment where Bilbo was sure that he would fall into the river beneath him the board slowly began to tilt in the other direction as Bilbo’s weight balanced it back again. Once it was leveled, Bilbo couldn’t help but lay on the ground and tried to catch his breath, his limbs shook with leftover adrenaline.
So that was how the barrels got into the river, Bilbo mused slowly sitting up and scutching until his back hit the piled up barrels. He sat their letting his heart slow down, before he dared to stand up to examine the trap door. Now that he was looking he could clearly see the seam that marked that the door was there. He knelt by the far edge and pushed hard, the door opening far enough that he could make out the river below him. He estimated that the river was ten feet below him, but he was certain that once the barrels were in the water that they would be able to float their way down the river until they reached Lake Town.
He slowly made his way back to the two elves, first he would have to find a way to get the keys away from the elf and find his way to the dungeons. He was completely shocked when he arrived back to the two elves that both were leaning against the wall, fast asleep with several bottles of wine empty around them. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Bilbo tip toed to the elf and slowly and gently undid the belt that held the keys, pausing frequently when the elf so much as twitched. Bilbo was sweating when he finally eased the keys off the belt and held them securely in his hands. Letting out a big breath he quickly made his way back up the stairs.
---------p------------------p
The tunnel system hadn’t been as easy as to accomplish. It was slow going without the proper tools; many a times in the week that they worked Bofur would have traded his hat for his mattock. As expected the hardest thing was hiding the dirt. It was simple for the bigger dwarves such as Thorin, Dwalin, and Bombur, they just sat in front of their piles when the elves came around. But for Ori it was more difficult to hide. He finally solved the problem by spreading the dirt in the back of the cell and patting it down until it looked like part of the floor.
They had another setback when part of a tunnel collapsed on Kili, Fili screamed so loudly for his brother that the elves came running. It was a mircle that Kili was able to pull himself out of the tunnel and lay on top of it just in time as the elves came in demanding them to be quiet. But despite these setbacks, they were able to follow Bofur’s time table and by the end of the week Bofur was breaking the stones that made up the hallway outside of his cell.
He turned to Bifur behind him, “Were through.”
Bifur grinned and crawled back to their cell and poked his head out, “Were through!”
There was a quiet cheer that went through the cells, before Thorin’s voice rose above the others.
“Alright men, start heading towards Bofur’s cell” he called heading towards his own tunnel. The other dwarrow did immediately as Thorin said, slipping under their own bars into their neighbors cell as they slowly made their way towards Bofur’s cell. Once Dori and Ori were in the same cell, the older dwarf began to dust the younger one
”Get off Dori” said Ori trying to shake his brother off, but couldn’t help the small smile that came onto his face. He secretly had missed Dori’s fussing. Dori scowled at Ori but returned the smile after giving him a hug.
Fili and Kili had much the same reaction to finally being able to touch each other once again. Kili had launched himself at his brother as soon as he had cleared the final tunnel.
“It’s alright Kili” murmured Fili rubbing his brother’s back as Kili buried his face in the crook of his neck. Kili just held on tighter, remembering the tunnel collapse and his panic as he tried to dig himself back out, fighting the dirt that tried to fill his nose, crushing him.
Dwalin grunted as he tried to climb out behind Fili, but found it blocked by the brothers. “Alright laddies, break it up we haven’t got all night.” The boys complied, but that didn’t stop Kili from keeping a firm grip on Fili’s arm, with a grin on his face. The cell started to get crowded, as more and more of the Company crawled and a few curses rung out as toes were stepped on. Though the overall mood was excited and impatience as they watched the hole in the floor get bigger and bigger until Bofur hat covered head poked out and grinned as he turned to the Company behind the bars.
“I can see why the elves been keeping us behind bars, you guys are a sight to see” smirked Bofur as he slipped his arms out of the hole and lifted himself out, ignoring the remarks that were snapped back at him. Once his feet were clear he turned to look down the hole. “Bifur hand me that dagger, got get this big enough that Bombur can get through.”
Bofur quickly chipped away at the hole, pausing each time another Company member squeezed past, until it was only Thorin, Dwalin, and Bombur left in the cell waiting for the exit hole to be made big enough to squeeze through. It took another ten minutes for Bofur with Bifur help to make it big enough for Bombur girth.
“Come on King of the Tunnel, we got a hobbit to find and an elf kingdom to escape” said Dwalin, holding out his hand for Thorin to take. Thorin scowled at his friend, but grabbed his hand and allowed Dwalin to haul him out of the tunnel. Wiping the dirt from his face he turned to his newly freed Company.
“Alright, the easy thing is done, Balin if you will lead. It’s time to reclaim our hobbit.”
Balin took the lead leading the Company towards healers halls and hissing for the rest of them to be quiet, which was quite the feat for the Company. It was unsurprising that Nori was the quietest of them all and he elected to bring up the rear.
Bilbo hurried down the hallway, keys clutched tightly to his chest to prevent them clanging. He had passed a hallway when following the elf, and he would use that as his starting point in finding his family. Turning to glance behind him, he wasn’t watching where he was going. Nori who had heard a slight noise behind him was pausing to find the source didn’t see the silent hobbit until they ran into each other. Nori’s arms shot out automatically to steady the hobbit.
Nori and Bilbo looked stupidly at each other for a long moment. Nori was the first to react, scooping the hobbit into his arms he hugged him tight. “Here we thought we needed to rescue you, and from the looks of it you were about to rescue us” he said looking at the keys in the hobbits hands.
“Well didn’t want to ruin my streak” returned Bilbo, hugging the dwarf the best he could. “Were are the others?”
Nori smiled and turned to where the others were still moving forward, let out a shrill whistle that caught the attention of the rest of the Company. Bilbo had the nerve to smile cheekily and wave at them from his place in Nori’s arms. His smile grew bigger as the Company came charging back and soon he was tugged out of Nori’s arms and into anothers, and for the next few minutes he was passed around and hugged, with cries of ‘Bilbo’ and ‘Uncle Bilbo’.
Only Balin was the only one not shocked at the condition Bilbo was in. Though he was much improved compared to what he was a week ago, he still looked bad, thinner than he was before. Oin’s scowl was dark as he grabbed Bilbo, his eyes scanning the hobbits frame taking in the new and old bandages and the slight chaffing of skin that surrounded Bilbo’s neck and ankles. “When we get out of here I’m giving you a full medical check-up, no arguments!” he huffed, mentally comparing how much Bilbo weighed in his arms compared to when he was at Beorn’s and how much it would take to get Bilbo to a healthy weight.
Bilbo nodded solemnly, he knew better to argue with Oin. But he would rather take the fussy dwarf than to ever be touched by another elven healer. Oin seemed to realize this and gave the hobbit a soft smile and gently tapped their foreheads together. Bilbo grinned, “I’m alright Oin really” he whispered.
Oin snorted, “I think I’m the judge of that.”
The dwarves were too busy celebrating the fact they found their hobbit that they didn’t notice a set of footsteps approaching until a startled gasp had them snapping their heads to find the source of the noise blanching with fear when they took in the sight of Legolas standing in front of them.
The two parties froze, in any other circumstances it could be counted as funny, but not now. The Company unconsciously moved to circle the youngsters keeping all four in the middle of the group. Legolas’s eyes found the hobbit in the middle of the group, before they gazed back at Thorin. He deliberately turned and started to walk away while calling back over his shoulder. “You have ten minutes before I alert the rest of the guard; don’t expect any lenience when you are recaptured.”
Legolas smiled as he walked away, there was no way that the dwarrows could get away, the only way was through the gate which didn’t open unless you were an elf. It was a win-win situation for Legolas some of his guilt he felt for the Halfling would lift, the dwarrows would find there was no escape and soon find it was hopeless to resist anymore and tell his Father their plans and Thranduil would no longer torment Bilbo. Yes it would best for everyone to let this play out.
The dwarrows stood there for a second longer, absolutely stunned, it was Bilbo who snapped out of it first, grabbing Thorin by the arm and pulling him back towards the way he came. “Come on we only have a few minutes. We need to get to the basement, I have a way out of here.”
Notes:
Hoped you liked!
Chapter 15: Escape Part II
Chapter Text
Bilbo lead his family back down to the lower levels, his dwarrows trusting him, but refused to let go of his hands. Kili and Ori traded back and forth while Bifur refused to let go of this other hand altogether. It took all he had not to scope Bilbo in his arms and carry him to wherever he was leading him to.
“Where are we going?” asked Dwalin in a hushed voice his hands clenching, wishing that he had his axes or even his war hammer. He felt vulnerable without these objects, and he didn’t like that feeling, even his hands felt lighter without his knuckles dusters. He wished they had time to search for their weapons but they couldn’t not with the time restriction they were under. He would have to rely on his hand to hand combat skills to defend his family if it came down to it and he would enjoy letting out his frustration and angry on these elf sissy’s, he just wished Thranduil was among them if it did happen. He would show what happened to those that hurt their hobbit. Dwalin would rip every single blonde hair out of that head of his with his bare hands so that everyone will know about his dishonor.
“To the cellars” replied Bilbo looking back at the dwarf, something in him relaxing at the sight of the dwarrows being with him. That he wasn’t alone in the cold and dark anymore with only his thoughts for company, wasn’t in a cool hall where many dared not look at his face. He was with his family, they were all around him. The hands holding his were warm and chased away the darkness and loneliness, grounding him telling him that it wasn’t just a dream that this was happening. They were finding a way out of the Elven Kingdom, soon they would be out of the gloomy halls of stone and wood and out in the fresh air where green things grew. Bilbo squeezed the hands that held his, a slight smile on his face as he led the way.
It only took a few minutes to get back to the cellar, at which he stopped the Company and put a finger to his lips, telling the Company to be silent he had no idea how easy a drunk elf was to waken but he didn’t want to find out. The Company looked at each other but stayed silent as Bilbo lead them through an archway and they saw why he had motioned them to be quiet. By the doorway with their heads laying on a table lay two snoring elves. Which made the Company freeze for one long moment as they took in the sight of sleeping elves. It was such a strange sight most dwarves believed that elves never slept, yet here were two snoring so hard that the table rattled underneath them.
Thorin moved up beside Bilbo and gently touched Bilbo to get his attention, when the hobbit turned around Thorin raised an eyebrow and gestured at the sleeping elves. Bilbo just smiled and pointed to the empty wine barrel. Thorin just sighed, elves couldn’t hold their liquor but he should thank them if this indeed allowed them to go free. Being as quite as they could they sneaked past the elves and went further into the barrel filled room. Bilbo didn’t hesitate at all as he led the Company through the maze until they were in front of a stack of barrels.
“Why did we stop Bilbo?” asked Balin, hoping what his mind was telling him was wrong that there the barrels and the roar of the river beneath them wasn’t Bilbo’s plan. Bilbo bit his lip as he looked at the Company, he knew that this would be a problem.
“I listened to the elves when they thought I was asleep, they are worse gossipers then hobbit women. The gates are enchanted, they will only open up for elves because they are in tune with the elves magic. These barrels are bound for Laketown.” He indicated the lever on the wall. “Pulling the lever on the wall will release the barrels to go into the river which in right below us. Short of scaling the walls, this is the only way out of here.
The dwarrows looked like they wanted to complain, some were already grumbling under their breaths, but Gloin spoke up above the sounds of them. “We might not like it, but time is running out to find another way. I’m sure that blond elfling will soon be calling the guards. This might be own only chance, and I for one would risk my chances with the river instead of being held in that cell for the rest of ours lives.”
“Gloin is right” announced Nori, “This is our only chance, the elves will not make the same mistakes. But most of all who knows what he will do to Bilbo if he catches us. We won't be able to protect him, he would have to face Thranduil’s wrath all by himself.”
All eyes turned to Thorin, waiting for his final say. “Get into the barrels” he ordered walking towards the lever, he would be the one to get his men out of here. The dwarrows offered no arguments after that and got into barrels easily, the only one that had trouble was Bombur but with the help of Bofur and Bifur he managed to get into it. Bilbo was about to get into his own when he was grabbed from behind and put into a different barrel, one that held Ori.
“You stay in there with Ori” came Dori’s voice and Bilbo knew that it was him that had put him in. Bilbo looked at Ori who shrugged as best as he could in the cramped barrel.
“It’s better not to argue with him Bilbo, if you try to move he will just pick you up and put you back into the barrel with me” said Ori cheerfully. “I think it because were the two smallest, and the only ones that can fit in a barrel together. Also he probably thinks that he’s killing two birds with one stone, one barrel for two worries.”
Bilbo laughed and could help but agree, but before he could say anything, Thorin was calling out. “Get ready!” Fear clutched at Bilbo, he didn’t know how to swim, Ori sensing his fear pulled him even closer than they were wrapping his arms around the hobbit in a tight hug as the lever was pulled and the ground disappeared beneath them.
--------------------------=--------------------------d-------------------------------------=
True to his word, Legolas waited until exactly until the tenth minute passed before he alerted the castle that the dwarrows had escaped. As expected his Father flew into another temper tantrum, ordering ever elf to search, no matter how drunk they were from the feast.
The search began near the dungeons; Legolas lead the first party heading to where he was certain he would find the dwarrows. But was surprised to find that they weren’t near the entrance to the outer gate, frowning he turned back and began to search other routes that the dwarrows might have taken. Every minute that passed he grew more nervous as no call came that the dwarrows had been found, and he found no sign of them as he searched. Things got worse when the call rang out that the hobbit was also missing from the healing halls, Thranduil’s shriek of anger could be heard from every corner of the castle.
Legolas racks his brain to where they might have gone, and suddenly it hit him like a ton of bricks, the River. Without a word to the elves accompanying him, he ran towards the cellars praying he wasn’t too late. He barged into the cellar, noticing the two sleeping guards immediately. He slammed his fist on the table causing the two to jerk awake blinking slowly, Legolas scowled with disgust as the overwhelming smell of wine just rolled off the two. It took a moment for them to realize who had woken them. “Prince Legolas!” they exclaimed.
“Did you send the barrels off to Laketown?” he demanded.
The guards look sheepishly at the Prince, and that was all the answer Legolas needed. Navigating through the barrels he soon came to the trap door and the empty space that was supposed to be holding barrels.
He groaned aloud, under no circumstances was he going to tell his Father that he had allowed the dwarrows to escape.
Chapter 16: Down the River
Summary:
The frantic ride down the river.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Bilbo clutched tightly to Ori as they fell in what seemed like forever until they slammed into the water with the force that rattled his teeth. The boards holding the barrels together creaked ominously around them. Bilbo shook with fear that the boards would break apart and send them spilling into the rushing water. He hid his face into the croak of Ori’s neck as something jostled them, making there barrel rock dangerously, as spray flew into it soaking both the occupants.
Around them echoed the shouts of the Company as they cursed trying to steer their barrels. Managing to free his arms from Bilbo, Ori pulled himself up until he could see everyone else, Bilbo relocated his arms to wrap around Ori’s torso but he also rose with Ori to peer over the rim of the barrel. More barrels crashed around them, and a hand clutched at their barrel keeping them together. Dwalin was at the front of the line, having a firm grip on either side of the narrow passage way. Keeping the barrels from floating further down until the trap door opened one last time and Thorin came falling down.
Bilbo worried that Thorin wouldn’t pop back up but, as he watched Thorin’s dark head popped back up and with the help Gloin and Dori they managed to haul Thorin into one of the empty barrels that were floating next to them. Once Thorin was situated he signaled Dwalin at the front of the line.
“Forward” he ordered. Dwalin nodded and let go and began to paddle with the current the rest following. Ori leaned forward as much as Bilbo’s arm would allow him and paddled with his hands, they were towards the back of the line so they were able to see as they reached the mouth of the cavern system the waterfall. Dwalin and Oin had yelled in warning before they went over and Bilbo clutched his arms tighter around Ori in fear. Ori winced at the strength Bilbo was squeezing him, but just one glance at the hobbit had Ori not saying anything. Bilbo’s eyes were wide with fear, and Ori briefly wondered if the hobbit could swim when it was there turn to go over the falls.
Ori gripped the barrel tightly and barely had time to take a breath when the barrel flew over the falls. Bilbo tightened his grip even further when the whole barrel plunged under the water. It felt like they were under the water for entirety when the barrel popped back up and Bilbo floundered gasping for air. The currant was faster than before the falls and there wasn’t a chance to regroup when they were heading straight towards a small stretch of rapids with another set of smaller falls. Bilbo released Ori and gripped the barrels sides tightly helping Ori steer the barrel away from the rocks that jutted out from the sides of the river.
Dwalin suddenly began to make motions with his hands, “Get down, get down, elves!”
The dwarves ducked back into the barrels hoping that the elves didn’t pay too much attention to the barrels as they floated right through the portcullis and over the falls once again. The motion almost had Bilbo flying out of the barrel if it wasn’t for Ori he was afraid he would have been lost to the river.
Thorin’s and Oin’s barrels had just floated through when the sounds of horns cut through the air. Looking back Thorin caught a sight of the blonde elf running out of the fortress with a squadron of elves. He wished fervently that he had Orcrist with him as the guards on the portcullis realized their mistake and shouted as they watched the dwarves started to float out of sight. But soon that was the least of their worries as from out of the woods came a legion of orcs. Their hunting horns sounded and suddenly chaos irrupted from all sides of the river as orcs and elves clashed overhead of the waterlogged dwarves. The rapids grew worse the further they went, the orcs firing arrow at the barrels. Many times the barrel tipped ominously to the side almost dumping the dwarves.
Arrows thudded into the wooden sides of the barrels, some of the orcs were close enough that the Company was able to reach out from their barrels to fight orcs and wrestle their weapons from their hands. Using them to strike orcs that came close, weapons were tossed from dwarf to dwarf going to were the biggest threats were. From Thorin, to Dwalin, to Balin weapons were tossed and then thrown at Orcs with precision skewering them to logs and cutting them were they stood.
Dwalin grabbing an axe threw it to Thorin who turned to face a log that was in the laying length wise across the river where a group of orcs stood with their bows at the ready. As they passed under it, Thorin used his strength to slam the axe threw the wood before throwing it back to Dwalin, who also hit it with his brute strength cutting it straight through. Thorin felt great satisfaction as he watched the whole log fall into the river.
The orcs kept coming in waves the elves barely keeping stride with the barrel s as they fought to keep up. Bilbo could barely see with the water sprying in his eyes but he watched in awe as Bombur was forced airborne. His barrels bounced off of the ground and orcs alike. Bombur flipped with the greatest of ease grabbing the axes as he flew. When he finally came to rest he burst from his barrel, twisting and turning with he sliced through orcs alike as he tried to retreat back to the river as his barrel flew apart around him. Once it was gone he threw his two axes to Dwalin and Thorin before throwing himself at an empty barrel between them. It sunk under his weight at first but he felt both hands grabbing the sides and hauling it back up to float beside them.
It was a surprise when from the bank an orc leaped and landed on the barrel carrying Ori and Bilbo. Both barely had time to duck before a blade sailed between them and buried itself in the wood. Bofur seeing what was happening threw the blade that he had at the orc happy to see it sink in the skull of the orc. But that soon turned to horror as the orc fell he caused the barrel to fully tip sending Bilbo and Ori into the water.
Ori head shot out of the water seconds after dunking and managed to grab the barrel once again but there was no sign of Bilbo. “Bilbo” he yelled squinting against the spray trying to find the hobbit. Bofur began to search, paddling when Bilbo’s head broke next to his barrel. Bilbo’s arms flayed around trying to keep himself from sinking under the surface once again, waves battered around him. Water splashed into his face and he choked as water poured into his mouth making him panic.
“Bilbo! Take my hand!” he cried at the hobbit leaning out as far as he could trying to grab the hobbit. Bilbo coughed and tried to grab it before the water swept him under again. Bilbo reached as far as he could and he grabbed Bofur’s hand. But before he could get a firm grip, a strong currant ripped Bilbo’s hand from Bofur’s. “No! Bilbo!” shouted Bofur watching as Bilbo disappeared underneath the surface.
Bifur’s barrel swept past Bofur just as Bilbo’s head went under water. Before Bofur could dive in after the hobbit his cousin was already tipping into the water diving under the waves to search for the hobbit.
The water pulled Bilbo’s body in all directions turning him around until he didn’t know what was up or down. All around him was blue and cold, he couldn’t beath. He tried to find the surface but he didn’t know which way to go, and soon his lungs began to burn begging him to find air. Suddenly a warm band of iron wrapped around his stomach and he was being pulled upward and his head broke the surface and he greedily drew in a deep breath into his burning lungs. His body was pressed into another and he found himself and his rescuer being pulled out of the water and into another barrel. He slipped to the bottom of the barrel coughing the water out of his lungs as they kept going down the river. The sounds of fighting continued around them. Bilbo jumped as suddenly the face of his rescuer, Bifur, was pressed downwards and a shadow passed over top of them as Legolas used Bifur’s head to jump to the far bank.
The orcs were slowly getting less and less around the dwarves, as the barrels began to finally out pace there pursues. Thorin watched the blonde elf that had given them a break, slice his way through orcs, looking so damn graceful while doing it. It was like a dance as he twisted and turned, bringing down every Orc in his path. But as Thorin watched him finishing off one of his foes, the elf failed to realize the danger that was creeping up behind him. Heaving back the sword in his hands, Thorin threw the sword as hard as he could watching with satisfaction at the blade hit the orc in the chest, killing it before it could finish its stroke with the axe that would have split the elf’s head like a watermelon. Turning he fixed his eyes on the elf, he had saved this elf’s life because of his kindness to Bilbo and the debt was now paid. The elf looked confused as he watched the dwarrows disappear around the bend in the river like he didn’t understand why Thorin had saved him.
It was true, as Legolas watched the dwarrows disappear past his Father’s boarders, he couldn’t understand why the dwarf king had saved him. It would seem that everything his Father had said about the dwarrows had been wrong. Hearing a noise he turned to see an arrow be hit out of its course of hitting him, and he watched as Taurial fought a lone orc archer that had almost killed him. He only called out to her right before she slammed her daggers into his chest.
“Enough Taurial, this one we keep alive” he told her. It disturbed him to see so many orcs in Mirkwood, and he knew his Father would want to know why that was. Casting one last look to downstream he turned to help Taurial secure the orc, he had a feeling that it wouldn’t be too long before he laid eyes on the Company again.
Notes:
Hoped you liked, please review!
Chapter 17: The Bowman
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The Company of barrels slowed down as river grew calmer. Nothing could be heard besides the sounds of nature, which Thorin and Dwalin could be glad of. It would seem that their orcs pursuers had given up the chase most likely thanks to the swift blades of the elves. Coming to a shelf of rock that extended into the river, Thorin gave the call to get out of the barrels. It was a relief to all when they finally stumbled upon dry land.
Bilbo looked the most relieved as Bifur gently helped the hobbit out of the shallows and onto the land. The hobbit knew then and there that he never wanted anything to do with a river ever again if he could help it. He never feared drowning before, but now he had a full-fledged fear of ever going near a river again. Once Bifur released his arm Bilbo sank to the ground on a sun warmed rock, letting it soak out the chill that came from taking an unexpected swim in the river.
“You alright there Bilbo” asked Bofur quietly taking a seat next to the half-drowned hobbit.
Bilbo tiredly raised his head, “Just tired” he replied returning his head to the position it had been a few minutes ago, laying on top of his knees. He was stunned when a few seconds later something was settled onto his curls and lifting his head again he was shocked to see a hatless Bofur looking worriedly at him.
Bilbo managed a small smile snuggling closer to the dwarf, despite taking a dip into the river Bofur was pouring heat out like a furnace. Above his head the dwarrows exchanged worried looks, the older ones knew that they had to get to shelter that night or risk Bilbo and the younger dwarrows getting sick. Bilbo especially since he was still recovering and known wanted a full relapse they had lost their burglar to many times already on this journey and they hadn't even faced the dragon yet.
“Rest for a few minutes” ordered Thorin, “Then we must be on our way, Balin what do you know of the settlements of men in this area?”
Balin drawling Thorin away from the others he gave the grave news. “The only settlement that is near Thorin is that of Laketown, and unless we find a boat there is no way that we will be able to reach it.”
Thorin scowled looking back to his men, Fili and Kili were wrapped around each other, taking comfort in being able to touch one another after the many weeks of separation. Ori was seated next to the river with Dori and Nori hovering not too far in the background as the young dwarf emptied the water out of his boots. His eyes wandered to where the rest of the Company was gathered loosely around their hobbit as Bilbo tried to bat away Oin probing hands, Bofur’s hat slipping to cover his eyes.
To his untrained eyes, Bilbo seemed to be okay if just a little wet, cold, and exhausted. But he had seen the hobbit being almost washed away in the rapids and if it hadn’t been for Bifur they probably would have lost their little burglar. So he trusted Oin to find out if Bilbo was in good enough condition to walk on his own, or else it looked like Dwalin would be carrying him if his noticeable hovering was anything to go by.
“We will find a way” murmured Thorin, “We need supplies and a place to rest and recuperate before we head to the mountain, that is if Durin’s Day hasn’t already passed while we were detained in that cursed elf’s dungeon.”
Balin patted a hand against his King’s shoulder. “I’m sure that there is time left, the trees are not fully golden there is yet time Thorin.”
Thorin nodded solemnly, as he eyes roamed his Company as they rested and tried to dry off, huffing a chuckle as he saw that Oin had finally gotten his hands on their hobbit and was giving him a proper checkup in the time they had. Bilbo looked like he wanted nothing more than to sleep as his head dipped forward and jerked back after a few seconds and managing to nod during the right times to Oin’s lector. Thorin was reluctant to give the call to move forward, but the pack of Orcs couldn’t be that far behind and if they had wargs than they would have to move off quickly.
Beside the river tried to wring as much water out of his cloths as possible and had just removed his boot to dump the water out when a shadow passed above him. Glancing up he gave a short cry at the sight of the tall figure with a bow silhouetted against the sky.
Ori’s cries alerted the rest of the Company and they grabbed what weapons they had left, mainly the daggers they had blunted digging out of the Elven Dungeon. Bombur made sure to place himself firmly in front of Bilbo, his girth hiding the hobbit from view.
Dwalin took a menacing step forward as if to engage the figure when an arrow shot from the bow knocking the dagger he had in his hand onto the ground. Two more arrows followed quickly, knocking various weapons out of the dwarrows hands until they were weaponless facing the figure.
“Do it again and your dead” said the figure in a deadly tone, and the dwarrows realized that it wasn’t an elf like they had feared but a man. Knowing that it was probably an inhabitant of Laketown, Balin stepped forward dusting off his diplomatic skills.
“Excuse me, you’re from Laketown if I’m not mistaken” he said stepping forward with his hands raised as the bowman focused on him, an arrow still notched in his bow, that re-aimed itself at Balin as he drew a few steps forward. From the corner of his eyes Balin could see a barge sitting on the river and he quickly deduced that the man was here to collect the barrels. Though going by the state of his thread-bare clothing he wasn’t a rich man and Balin could use that for his advantage.
“That barge over there wouldn’t be for hire by any chance would it?” he asked, internally smiling as the bow relaxed as the man stopped to consider. But then he just as quick turned around and headed back to the river were the dwarrows had left the barrels and Balin sighed in his head cursing that he just had found the human version of Thorin.
The dwarrows followed after him, not talking leaving that to Balin. From behind Bombur Bilbo wanted to groan as Bifur gently tugged on his arm leading him forward after the retreating man. Bifur stayed by his side as he stumbled his way to were the barge was talking and Balin was trying to convince the man to take them aboard.
“Those boots have seen better days, and that jacket. I bet you’ve also have a few mouths to feed,” he said watching as his words stuck true, “How many bairns?” he asked.
The man smilied softly without realizing it as he answered three, two girls and a boy.”
“I’m sure your wife was a beauty” Balin continued with a smile on his face, almost knowing immediately he had said the wrong thing as the man’s body language changed and he froze before he softly uttered.
“Aye, she was.”
Balin and the rest of the Company could feel his pain and sympathies with it, having lost so many loved ones during the fall of Erebor, and at Moria. They knew of the bitter wound some careless remark could reopen.
“Apologizes” murmured Balin
Dwalin shifted impatiently, tired of the niceties, but a hand from Thorin had him keeping silent as the man turned to study him.
“Who are you, I want to know what you are doing in these lands” the man demanded.
Balin kept his head as he calmly answered him, “We are simple merchants from the Blue Mountains on our way to visit kin in the Iron Hills. We seek to go to Laketown to refill our supplies, food, weapons and such since we have lost ours, can you help us Master Bowman.
“Simple Merchants?” the man said disbelievingly, “You see I know were these barrels come from” said the man, fingering the holes from the arrows of both elves and orcs, before standing tall. “I do not know what business you had with the elves, but I want no part of it. Besides no one enters Laketown without leave of the Master, all of his wealth comes from trade with the Woodland Elves, he would rather see you in iron’s than face the wrath of King Thranduil” said Bard causally as he flung the rope anchoring the barge to the shore in Balin’s face, and Balin struggled not to react to the insult, though his training as the King’s advisor had trained him well.
They needed to get to shelter, half the Company looked dead on their feet, the four young ones the worse off. The Bowman tone with the Master gave away how much he disliked the man, and Balin knew that men like the Bowman didn’t just bow down to this authority.
“I’ll wager there are ways to get into that town unseen” bet Balin.
“Aye” returned the man, walking towards the front of the barge, Balin following him on the shore side. “But you would need a smuggler.”
“A service that we would pay double for” returned Balin in a serious tone. The Bowman looked up at that surprise clear on his face. He seemed to debate with himself for a long moment before finally nodding and a great relief washed over the Company except for one.
Bilbo eyed the boat, so much for never going near a river again. The last thing he wanted to do was climb on this bit of wood and go out onto the lake were he would be trapped on a town floating in the middle of the lake. He never thought men could be so dumb, but who in their right minds builds a town on top of a lake.
“You okay Bilbo?” asked Kili quietly as he came to stand next to the hobbit, Fili not to far behind him. Bilbo grimaced as the boat swayed in front of him.
“I don’t feel like getting into another wooden tub so soon after escaping the last one” whispered back Bilbo, fear gripping his gut as the brothers made a sympathetic noise.
“We’ll be fine Uncle Bilbo” whispered Fili, “We will watch over you.”
“Aye lads” said Balin as he neared the trio, “Watch over our hobbit, try to keep the man from getting to close of a look” the dwarf said as he took off his red cloak and draped it over the hobbit. The long cloth was perfect for covering his form, and long enough to cover his large feet. Bilbo was thankful that his hair had grown out long enough that if he kept his head down the hair would cover the brand the Goblin King had given him, and the braids made him appear more dwarvish.
The dwarrows moved carefully making sure to keep Bilbo as much out of sight of Bard as they could. And once they had pushed off from the shore, Bilbo found himself in the middle of the group of dwarrows as they sailed towards the last leg of their journey. Bilbo shivered but not from the cold, but from the sense of foreboding that filled him as he watched Thorin stare intently towards the east, a gleam that Bilbo didn’t recognize alight in his eyes. But then he blinked and Thorin returned to normal as he turned to converse with Dwalin and Bilbo was left to wonder what he had seen in the Dwarf Kings gaze.
Notes:
Sorry this took so long but have been a bit busy with my Grandpa’s funeral, the birth of my first niece, and transferring to a university I have been a bit stressed and in no mood to write. But I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please let me know what you think!
Chapter 18: Laketown
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Bilbo shivered with cold water dripping from his curls and clothing. Getting in Laketown had been miserable from getting covered in fish to climbing into the freezing water to come through the toilet into Bard’s house. They had almost been captured by the town guards, but thank-fully the people of Laketown came to their aid and hid the fallen soldiers from the Captain of the Guard. Bilbo had spent enough time in someone’s prison, he didn’t fancy getting to know what kind of arrangement Laketown had. Though he felt sorry for Bard’s oldest daughter Sigrid as she looked around at the dwarrows in dismay as they dripped all manner of things onto her floor. Although their barrel ride down the river had cleaned them so they didn’t smell as bad as they could have.
Bilbo jumped when a towel was thrown over his hair and was proceeded to rub his head vigorously, no matter how he tried to squirm away. Another towel was wrapped around his body and it was just as vigorously rubbed as his hair. When the towels were removed he was greeted with the sound of chuckling. To the dwarrows Bilbo looked like an angry kitten with his hair frizzled out from the rub and the slight irritated look on his face. Oin threw the towel he had used to rub there hobbit’s hair over his shoulder and grabbed the nearest blanket.
“Can’t have you catching cold, your making more grey than Gloin ever did” he teased, but with an edge of seriousness. Oin knew that if he ever heard someone make that the comment that Hobbits were weak he would set that person straight at the beginning of the quest he remembered thinking to himself that the little hobbit wouldn’t last even to Bree. But again and again Bilbo had proved everyone wrong, and here he was still on the threshold of the Lonely Mountain.
Bilbo grumbled but snuggled into his blanket and allowed himself to be picked up by Dwalin and settled close to the fire. For the first time in weeks Bilbo allowed himself to relax, not noticing an inquisitive set of eyes glance curiously at him and creep ever closer and closer to his blanket covered form until it was standing straight in front of him.
“What are you” asked Tilda looking curiously at Bilbo, “You don’t look like any dwarf I’ve ever seen.”
Bard who had been looking at Dwalin and Thorin with suspicion turned when he heard his daughter ask this and before the dwarrows could hid Bilbo behind them again the man was beside his daughter looking down at the hobbit. Bilbo couldn’t help but feel a little nervous as he looked up at the man, meeting the others eyes without fear.
Bard eyes took in the strange creature before him, it was about the size of a dwarf if just a little bit smaller. Fur covered in large hairy feet that matched the color of the drying ringlets on the creatures head. Though the curls Bard could see the tip of pointed ears that reminded the man of an elf's. But what really caught his attention was the mark on the creatures face, it was large and married the entire left check of the thing and Bard had never seen such a symbol before and judging by the color of it, it was still quite new. Green eyes meet his in a calm stare, a stare that dared the man to say something and waited until for Bard to look away first before he answered the question.
"I'm a Hobbit young Mistress" the creature said turning to smile at his daughter. "From the Kindly West in the land of the Shire."
"The Shire? Where's that" asked Tilda.
"Not too far from the foot of the Blue Mountains" answered the hobbit. At Tilda’s blank look Bilbo began to weave a map of the lands far away from Laketown, pulling on the views he had seen in his travels.
It didn’t take long for Tilda to become enamored by Bilbo and listened with wide eyes at the tales that he weaved and demanded another after one tale was through, Bilbo indulged her as the dwarrows and humans moved around the two. Though they occasionally stopped to listen to Bilbo as he spun a tale for the girl, they were soon joined by Ori as he sat down with his journal that had survived the river and the elves hands writing down the tales Bilbo spun. Eventually the warmth of the fire and the sense of safety had Bilbo falling asleep with Tilda curled up next to him, and Ori keeping virgil over the two as his pen scratched away.
Bard’s stoic face softened at the sight. Though the hobbit acted like a middle aged man, he looked so young and vulnerable as he slept next to his youngest. The scar on his face also heightened the look.
“He’s quite young, only a few years older than your eldest I suspect” said Balin softly coming up behind Bard. Bard turned towards the dwarf shocked.
“Truly?”
“Indeed, Master Bard, it was quite the shock for all of us when he revealed his age to us. As you might have noticed he acts a lot older than he is. Barely past his majority, if he was a dwarf he would still be considered a young child.”
Bard turned and looked at the hobbit in a whole new light, “Why is he traveling with you if he is so young?” he asked quietly.
Balin was silent for a moment before answering, weighing his words with care.“He’s family Master Bard, we couldn’t leave him behind, and the reason why we are going to visit our kin in the Iron Mountains” he answered smoothly, trying to ease Bard’s fear of them going to Erebor a bit more. Bard looked at the older dwarf with a hard look, as if he was trying to decide if Balin was telling the truth or lying to him. But Balin had lied to Kings before and knew that his face wouldn’t give anything away, though he did feel shame for lying to the man who had brought them to his home even though it could bring trouble down on his head and that of his family.
Bard was slightly shocked, he had never heard of a dwarf claiming one of another species as kin, he had thought that the highest honor a dwarf could give was to name one dwarf-friend. He studied the hobbit wondering what he could have done to be adopted as kin. The hobbit head moved slightly and Bard noticed the braid that was in the Halflings hair. His Father had once explained braids and beads to Bard when he was a child and he knew how important it was. This hobbit had braids and beads if his eyes didn’t mistake him and Bard studied the dwarrows in his house. Their leader stayed near the window constantly looking at the Mountain in the distance with a look that caused the hair on the back of his neck to raise. This was the dwarf that made Bard question the older one’s tale. But it didn’t escape his notice that the dwarf would turn away from the window and glance around the room noting the position of each dwarf, lingering on the younger ones with a soft look and a concerned glance at the hobbit by the fire. All the dwarrows would pause in their work and glance at the hobbit and Bard knew without a doubt that they cared for the little fellow.
With a sigh he quietly left the house to get the second part of the agreement he was paid for. It was with hesitance that he left his children with the Company of dwarrows. But a look from Sigrid had him leaving, so much like her Mother, that Bard’s heart sometimes ached when he looked at his eldest. She seemed to be getting along well with the grey haired dwarf with braid done in an elaborate style, the dwarf helping her to get a start on what to make for supper.
Bifur watched to Bowman leave before he made his way to the fire were Ori still sat next to the sleeping duo with his journal open. He couldn’t repress the smile that came across his face as he looked at what Ori was working on. In an accurate detail a picture of Bilbo with Tilda snuggled up beside him had been drawn on the page. Chuckling slightly he made himself comfortable next to the young dwarf and pulled out his whittling knife and a block of wood, the knife had been so small the elves had over looked it. He looked at the young girl and back at the block of wood. He set to work smoothly and steadily, freeing the shape within the block.
By the time Bard came back an hour later caring a bundle Bifur was putting the finishing touches on a wooden horse with an awake Tilda watching with a smile. Bifur gave the horse a small buffing before presenting it to Tilda with a smile. Bard heart clenched as his youngest looked astonished at the gift, though Bard was slightly better off because of his smuggling on the side he could never afford to give his children many toys. Pushing that aside he dropped his bundle on the kitchen table and unwrapped his goods.
The whole Company was relieved when Bilbo slept through the disagreement that happened between Bard and the dwarrows when he presented the weapons they paid for. Dwalin was the most offended as he fingered the makeshift spear that he had been given. They had paid good money for weapons and not for this pile of crap that they were offered. Without weapons they had no chance in standing up to a dragon if they accidently woke in their search for the Arkenstone.
“What are going to do Thorin” he asked, not noticing Bard’s eyes narrowing at the name none of the dwarrows really noticed when the Bowman exited the house just minutes afterwards, each stewing in their thoughts of what this meant for the future if they couldn’t get their hands some actual weapons. Even the ever cheerful Bofur was silent and even his moustache seemed to wilt, his eyes drawn to Bilbo. How will they be able to protect Bilbo if the elves come back?
Thorin didn’t know what to do, they couldn’t even think of facing Smaug without any type of weapon. He looked at his men, the looks on their faces, a few looked discouraged but others looked determined despite throwing the weapons down in disgust. Thorin looked out the window where he could see the mountain, a home for his people just within his grasp. His people would have a home, his sister-sons would be the princes they were born to be, never having to worry about gold again.
His mind wandered to the treasury, of the mountains of gold that right now the dragon was sure to be lying in. He clenched his hands into fist, the dirty worm sleeping on the wealth of Erebor, his gold. All the trials in his life, all the suffering was the dragons fault.
As Thorin stewed in these thoughts he didn’t notice when Bard went out again or when Bilbo woke and looked at him worriedly. Bilbo had woken from his refreshing nap to see his family looking discouraged, Balin had explained what had happened. Bilbo expected Thorin to be furious, coming up with plans to steal weapons from the Laketown armory. But all Thorin was doing was staring out the window towards the Lonely Mountain, with that strange look in his eyes that Bilbo had seen on the barge. Bilbo knew he wasn’t the only one to notice the sudden change that seemed to be happening to the Dwarrow King, Balin frowned looking very concerned at the fact Thorin was doing nothing.
Nothing drew Thorin’s attention until the return of Bard when he slammed the door shut with a scowl on his face. “You lied to Me” he hissed at Thorin, pulling Tilda and Bain away from the dwarrows like they were suddenly dangerous. “Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror.”
The Company froze, and Thorin slowly turned around. “You are mistaken” he said lowly.
“Am I? The Lord of Silver Fountains, the King of Carven Stone, the King beneath the Mountain shall come into his Hold. And the Bells shall Ring in Gladness, at the Mountain King’s Return. But all shall Fail in Sadness and The Lake Will Shine and Burn” Bard recited. “The Birds have been seen returning to the Mountain, the dragon not sighted in years, and a Company of Dwarrows arrive from the West.”
Before Thorin could answer the door slammed open, making the dwarrows reach for weapons that weren’t there. Members of the guards of Laketown poured into the cramped house and grabbed the dwarrows by the shoulders and forced them to their knees. Even Bilbo was noticed and forced to his knees, while Bard’s three children huddled in a corner to be largely ignored by the group as the guards stood at attention to look at the doorway where a man came waltzing in.
“Well, well Bard what do we have here?” asked a greasy looking man dressed in black, coming to stand in front of the bargeman. Bard remained silent and just crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the man that had entered his home. Alfrid frowned when he realized he couldn’t bait Bard and instead turned his attention to the creatures on the ground.
Alfrid wrinkled his nose as he glanced at the dwarrows, “I knew I should have had those barrels thrown over the side. What will the Master say when he discovers you smuggled dwarves into his town.”
“I bet he will wonder why you are not doing your job Alfrid, how it was on your watch that they entered Laketown” answered Bard smoothly. A few of the guards snorted at these comments and Alfid face paled in anger and his eyes narrowed at Bard.
“Take them all to the Master” ordered Alfrid.
The Company managed to maneuver Bilbo, Fili, Kili, and Ori until they were firmly in the middle of the group as they were pulled and pushed onto the streets were the commotion soon drew a crowd of men who stared at the group of dwarrows and didn’t notice the shorter barefoot one in the middle of the group, to the villagers that followed them, it appeared that there was only thirteen dwarrows making their way through the town.
Snow began to fall from the sky and Bilbo shivered with cold as they were pulled to the largest house near the middle of the town. Alfrid scurried in front of them and entered the house as the dwarrows were brought to a halt in front of the house. Moments later a large man with stringy red hair and scraggly beard exited the house and examined the group in front of him.
“Enemies of the State” hmmed the Master looking over at the ragged tagged group of dwarrows that Alfrid had brought.
“Desperate bunch of mercenies if there ever was one” sneered Alfrid from his place on the steps of the house.
Dwalin frowned, he wouldn’t allow these men to insult his King, his family. “Hold your tongue” he spat stepping forward, “You do not know to whom you speak, this is no common criminal” he said turning he looked at his King. “This is Thorin, Son of Thrain, Son of Thror” said Dwalin as Thorin walked out in front of the group to address the Master. Bilbo couldn’t help but notice that the Master didn’t seem impressed until the name of Thror was mentioned, and Bilbo felt a shiver of dread crawl up his spin at the sudden interest they were now looked down upon with.
Thorin stepped in front of the group, ignoring the crowd that had gathered around them. “We are the dwarrows of Erebor, and we are here to reclaim our homeland” he announced. He paused to let his news sink in before continuing, knowing that if he won over the people he would win over the Master.
“I remember this town in the great days of old. Fleets of boats laid in the harbor filled with silks and gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake, this was the center of all trade in the North!” exclaimed Thorin as the crowd agreed with him and from the corner of his eye he could see Balin glowing with pride. Balin was happy that not all the lesson he had pounded into the young prince’s head about statesman ship hadn’t been forgotten, win the crowd and you will get what you wanted.
“I would see those days return” continued Thorin, the crowd getting excited around him. “I would relight the great forges of the Dwarrows and send wealth and riches flowing once more from the Halls of Erebor” he exclaimed as the crowd began to cheer around them. When a voice rang out from the crowd, and Bilbo’s heart sank as he recognized the form of Bard stepping forward, he had followed the guards that conveniently left him at his house.
“Death” he said stepping forward for Thorin to see. “That is what you will bring upon us. Dragon fire and ruin. If you waken that beast, it will destroy us all.”
Thorin glared at Bard, he had come too far to let this chance run through his fingers. “You can listen to this naysayer, but I promise you this. If we succeed, all will share in the wealth of the mountain.” Beside Bilbo, Balin started to nod agreeing with his King, there was enough gold in the mountain to share with everyone.
“You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over” cried Thorin pumping the crowd back up as they cheered.
“Why should we take you at your word” asked Alfrid suddenly, and Bard was shocked when he found himself agreeing with the man for once. “We know nothing about you. Who here can vouch for your character?”
The crowd fell silent at his words and whispers broke out among them and Bilbo knew what he had to do. He stepped out from behind Thorin’s shadow.
“Me,” he said, “I’ll vouch for him.”
All the people turned to look at him, and even the Master’s brow furrowed as he gazed at the strange creature that wasn’t a dwarf as it stepped forward to address the crowd. He saw many of them point to his check whisper amongst themselves.
Bilbo pushed aside the nervousness he was feeling as he continued to speak. “I have traveled far with these Dwarrows through great danger and if Thorin Oakenshield gives his word, then he will keep it” finished Bilbo looking at the crowd before looking at Thorin.
The Company all felt a swell of pride fill their hearts as their hobbit vouched for Thorin, like Gandalf had said hobbits would continually surprise them. Thorin looked at Bilbo with a tender look in his eyes for the hobbit that he looked at as a younger brother and gave him a tiny nod to show his gratefulness.
“All of you. Listen to me! You must listen!” cried Bard spinning around to address the people, couldn’t they see the danger this dwarf was trying to bring down on them. “Have you forgotten what happened to Dale? Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm?!” he shouted as the crowd began too nod with his words. “And for what? The blind ambition of a Mountain King so riven by greed, he could not see beyond his own desire.”
“Now, now” said the Master finally speaking. “We must not, any of us be too quick to lay blame. Let us not forget that it was Girion, Lord of Dale, your ancestor who failed to kill the beast!” exclaimed the Master.
Thorin turned and stared at the man, raking his mind for the image of Girion, and compared. He was surprised he hadn't seen it sooner, the bowman bearing much of his baring.
“It’s true, sire” sneered Alfrid. “We all know the story, arrow after arrow he shot. Each one missing its mark.”
Bard marched forward to Thorin, knowing that with that piece of history laid out for everyone that the dwarrows would win and the Lake was sure to burn. “You have no right” he told the dwarf, regretting that he had brought them to Laketown to begin with. “No right to enter that mountain.”
Thorin looked up the towing man, “I have the only right.” With that he deliberately turned his back on Bard to address the Master.
“I speak to the Master of the Men of the Lake. Will you see the prophecy fulfilled. Will you share in the great wealth of our people?” asked Thorin, knowing that the man in front of him was greedy and would agree to anything as long as he got his gold. “What say you?”
The Master glanced around, at the eager faces of the people who looked to him and not to Bard at this moment, “I say unto you…Welcome” he said throwing open his arms as the people cheered. “Welcome, and thrice welcome King Under the Mountain.”
All around them the people cheered and hugged one another, and the Company cheered around them. Only Bilbo stood silent watching as Bard’s shoulders slumped and slowly he disappeared into the crowd. Soon they were welcomed inside of the Master’s house and a feast was thrown for their honor and long into the night the celebrations continued.
Only Bilbo sat quietly as the rest of the dwarrows took part in the Master’s hospitality, tomorrow was Durin’s Day, tomorrow he would be burgling from a dragon. He paused for a second, he suddenly realized he didn’t know what he was supposed to be burgling. Looking amongst his family he spotted Balin sitting in the corner smoking his pipe and watching the drinking contest that was going on between Fili and Kili, in which Kili was beating his older brother.
Picking his way through the celebration he came to sit next to the older dwarf and waited for Balin to acknowledge him. It was a few minutes before Balin sighed and offered his pipe to Bilbo who took a grateful puff from it, savoring the pipeweed even though it wasn’t Old Toby.
“What can I do for you laddie?” Balin asked, looking kindly at their burglar, from the look on Bilbo’s face Balin knew that it was about fulfilling his part of the contract.
Bilbo blew out a series of smoke rings and returned the pipe before asking his question. “Why do you need a burglar?” asked Bilbo softly, “What do you need from the hoard?”
Balin tapped the stem of the pipe against his chin, he suspected he was the first to realize besides Bilbo that tomorrow Bilbo would be going into Smaug’s lair. Though this might not have been a problem at the beginning of the quest, now he wished that Bilbo didn’t need to enter the mountain and the others would agree. He knew that as soon as the rest of the Company realized that they would have to send Bilbo into a dangerous situation yet again that some would argue against it even though the whole quest rested on it, that Bilbo had signed the contact with this sole intent. But looking at their hobbit, Balin knew that Bilbo wasn’t going to let that happen he would do his part, their hobbit had changed so much from the one that fainted in the hallway at the mere mention of a dragon.
Looking Bilbo in the face he finally answered the question. “We need you to retrieve the Arkenstone from the hoard or else this quest has been for naught.”
Bilbo frowned, brow furrowing , none of the dwarrows had mentioned it. “What’s the Arkenstone?” asked Bilbo in confusion.
Balin was shocked for a moment, completely forgetting that none in the Company had explained the plan to Bilbo, of why exactly they needed to come to Erebor in the first place. “The Arkenstone is the King’s jewel, an heirloom of the Line of Durin. The Seven Dwarf clans of Middle Earth swore allegiance to whoever wields it. So even though Thorin is King of the Durinfolk, they would only rally behind him if he had the stone. Our plan hinges on getting the stone, with that we can rally the seven clans and use the might of the dwarrows to defeat Smaug and reclaim our homeland,” explained Balin with a fire in his eyes, one of longing and hope.
Bilbo stomach flipped-flopped as he realized how much depended on him, he was the hope for thousands of dwarrows to reclaim their homeland, he shook himself as Balin continued. “The Arkenstone is unlike any other gem Bilbo, it shines with an inner light and looks as if the night sky is captured inside it. It is also smooth, perfectly smooth in the shape of an oval and is big enough to fit in the palms of both your hands.”
Bilbo was silent as he processed this information, and Balin gently laid a hand on the hobbit’s shoulder. Bilbo leaned into the comfort that was offered before offering him a weak smile. “I better get to bed, big day tomorrow” he said weakly.
Balin returned a small smile and gently brought Bilbo forward to tap their foreheads together. “Good-night Bilbo, I’ll redo your braids in the morning and try to get some sleep” he said gently.
Bilbo smile turned genuine for a moment before he slipped away, leaving the dwarrows to continue their celebrations long into the evening.
Notes:
I hoped you enjoyed this chapter! For those who have survived BoFA I salute you, my brothers and sisters in arms, we will be happy again someday! lol
Chapter 19: Erebor
Summary:
Orcs, boats, and keyholes.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Legolas gripped the captured Orc by its hair, dagger pressed firmly against his throat. It repulsed him to even touch it, this dark creature whose very life went against the Great Maker. He had to fight his instincts not to cut the fouls things throat where he stood. But he wouldn’t not until the King bid him to do so. Instead he reflected on what had happened in the past few hours.
If he hadn’t of let the dwarrows escape, they would have had no warning that the Orcs were so close to the Kingdom. It sickened Legolas that this scum had dared pass through their borders. It was bad enough that his home had grown dark with evil and spiders live in its canopy’s, but the presence of Orcs in the forest was too much. Despite what his King thought, staying in the forest was not working if Orcs were able to reach the very kingdom without resistance.
He wondered how the dwarrows even discovered the passage from the cellar to the river. Curse the Captain of the Keys in indulging on the feast’s wine. Though he might as well cursed at himself for giving the Company the chance to escape. It hadn’t escaped his notice on how the hobbit had nearly drowned on the ride down the river. His very heart had stuttered at the sight of the hobbit falling out of the barrel and disappearing under the raging waves. Some part of Legolas was ready to jump right in to save the hobbit when he saw one of the dwarrows slip into the water and later pop up with the motionless hobbit. When an Orc appeared on the other side of the bank, he used the opportunity as he stepped on the dwarf’s head to glance down at the hobbit and was relieved to see Bilbo awake and shivering at the bottom.
He came back to the present when his Father began to speak. “Such is the nature of evil. Out there in the vast ignorance of the world it festers and spreads. A shadow that grows in the dark. A sleepless malice as black as the oncoming wall of night. So it ever was. So will it always be. In time all foul things come forth.”
Seeing that his Father wasn’t going to get to the point anytime soon Legolas choose to speed things along. “You were tracking a company of thirteen dwarves. Why?”
Orc said nothing except for something foul in the Black Language all Orcs spoke.
“Answer the question, you have nothing to fear. Tell us what you know and I will set you free” assured Thranduil. That had Legolas blink in astonishment, his Father was promising to set an Orc free? But he pushed forward his question.
“You had orders to kill them, why? What is Thorin Oakenshield to you?”
“The Dwarf runt will never be King!” answered the Orc, the world would perish before that dwarf sat upon the throne under the Mountain.
Legolas was shocked, “King? There is no King under the mountain, nor will there ever be. None would dare to enter Erebor Whilst the dragon lives.” Surely those dwarfs were not about to attempt what the Orc was implying.
“You know nothing. Your world will burn” spat out the Orc
“What are you talking about? Speak!” ordered Legolas.
The thing hissed before speaking again. “Our time has come again. My master serves the one. Do you understand now, Elfling? Death is upon you! The flames of war are upon you.”
Legolas was not prepared for what happened next as Thranduil drew his sword and cut the head right off. Legolas quickly released the grip he had to let to head fall to the ground. “Why did you do that” he questioned, “You promised to set him free.”
“And I did, I freed his wretched head from his shoulders.
“He still could have told us more” said Legolas looking at his King. This was not his Father, his Father came off as cold to his people but he was warm in private. As King he was fair, and sought justice, the man in front of him imprisoned travelers in the forest, harmed innocent creatures, and killed without mercy. Had the corruption of Mirkwood spread to his own Father’s heart ?
“There was nothing more he could have told me” said his King coldly as he turned and walked away.
But Legolas wasn’t satisfied with that answer, “What did he mean the flames of war?”
His King paused for a moment but didn’t turn to look at him. “It means they intend to unleash a weapon so great it will destroy all before it.” He then turned to look at Legolas. “I want to watch doubled at our borders, all roads, all rivers. Nothing moves without me hearing of it. No one enters this kingdom, and no one leaves it.”
Legolas stiffly bows his head. It was just as he feared, his King had chosen to ignore these signs, just like when the forest began to grow dark. But what of the men on the Lake, their allies? If the dwarfs were truly going to retake the mountain than they would have to be warned. Without glancing back he raced to the door, unaware of the red haired shadow he gained as he took off into the forest after calling back to the guards to seal the doors. It wasn’t until he was in the forest did he realize that Taurial had followed him.
“Taurial go back”
“Like that is going to happen Mellon” she answered with a smile. “Come we have dwarves to find and men to warn”
Legolas just shook his head but followed his oldest friend in the direction of Erebor.
Bilbo groaned as he sat in the middle of the boat, why oh why did they have to build the town on the lake? What sane person ever thought that this was a good idea? Of course this was men that was all the answer his needed.
“You alright there Bilbo?” asked Bofur coming closer to the hobbit, looking strange in the clothing and armor that had been provided by the Master of Laketown.
Bilbo huffed, “Water.”
Bofur’s eyes softened and Bilbo allowed himself to be maneuvered to sit next to Bifur who gathered the hobbit into his arms. Bilbo almost instantly relaxed in the toymakers arms, it had been Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur that had warmed up to him in the first place. It was Bifur that tried to keep him safe in Goblin Town, Bifur that had explained what his beads meant, Bifur that had saved him in the river. Bifur in Bilbo’s mind meant safety and he couldn’t help but be calm while in his arms.
Unaware to Bilbo, Bifur was smiling down at him with fondness. Bilbo had a special place in his heart, the family of Ur was the first to accept the hobbit and Bifur had considered him family way before Thorin got the idea. What Bilbo didn’t know was that back before the fall down the goblin tunnels when he was talking to Bofur about leaving the Rivendell, Bifur had been about get up and follow the hobbit to make sure that he didn’t come to harm on the hike in the mountains. He understood at the time that Bilbo had lashed out at Bofur because of Thorin’s words earlier, otherwise he doubted the soft-hearted Hobbit would dare utter those type of words, especially to Bofur of all people.
Bifur started to hum a dwarven lullaby and pet his hair to help relax the tense Bilbo as waves jarred the boat repeatedly. It probably worked a little too well as Bilbo dozed in Bifur’s warm hold, he didn’t notice the looks or smiles that were thrown his way as the boat was rowed across the Long Lake, to the very base of the mountain. The boat hitting the shore was enough to jar Bilbo back to full awareness. No one objected when Bifur stood up and placed Bilbo on the shore first, followed by Thorin.
It was a huge relief to be back on solid ground, even though each step they took was bringing them closer to the dragon. Bilbo kept up as best as he could, but he had to stop multiple times to catch his breath until Dori was chosen to carry him for a while. It always shocked Bilbo to remember the fussy-pot dwarf was the strongest of the Company and could hold down both Dwalin and Thorin without breaking a sweat. From Dori’s protective hold he could see all the damage that Smaug had wrought upon the landscape.
There was no sign of life, even though it was the beginning of winter, there was no sign of plants from the previous summer and fall. All Bilbo could see was bare ground and rock, it seemed that the land knew that a great evil was there and refused to grow anything until it was gone. A sudden flash of homesick flew through Bilbo, of golden hills and trees of every color. Of the festivals and parties that took place to celebrate the harvest. For a selfish moment he wished he was back there instead of being at the doorstep of a dragon’s nest. But almost immediately he felt ashamed, the dwarrows around him had gone decades without ever seeing their home, some this was the first time they had laid eyes on the Lonely Mountain, a place that they should have grown up in. They had traveled all of Middle Earth, all with the knowledge that they had no home to return when their feet grew weary. At least Bilbo knew that even if he decided to ever leave Erebor once he they reclaimed it, Bag End would always be there waiting for him.
Bilbo was pulled out of these thoughts when they crested the top of the hill and at the base of Erebor lay Dale before them. Dori gently set him down on his feet as the Company took a moment to gaze at the sight before them. Bilbo looked down sadly at the remains of Dale, even from this distance Bilbo could tell that it was once a magnificent city even with damage done by Smaug prominent.
“Dale, it was once our greatest trade partner in the north, now only a ruin” said Balin sadly.
“The sun will soon reach midday. We must find the hidden door into the mountain before it sets. This way” said Thorin without only a glance at the ruin, his eyes more focused on the mountain.
“Isn’t this where we were supposed to wait for Gandalf” asked Bilbo aloud looking around for the man. He had it on good authority that a Wizard was never late, yet there wasn’t even a hint of a grey cloak anywhere.
“We have no time to waste Bilbo, sunset will be upon on us soon and we still have to locate the door” answered Balin gently. Bilbo could only nod, but he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling as he followed behind Oin that this was a bad idea.
As the Company walked it was as if they were back in Mirkwood. Not a word was spoken in the long trek to the base of the mountain. It seemed that with each step taken the tenser the Company became as the pressure mounted. It was a relief when they finally reached the base of the mountain. Bilbo felt incredibly small as he gazed up at the Lonely Mountain.
“Spread out, we need to find a sign of the hidden door” ordered Thorin, looking at the map. “The map shows that it should be somewhere above us
The Company immediately split up scouting the base of the mountain for any clues.
“If the doors above us” joked Fili.
“Then there must be some stairs” answered Kili rolling his eyes. “You’re never going to let me live down that comment are you?”
“Not anytime soon Nadadith” smiled Fili wrapping an arm around him.
“Yes, if I thought all dwarrows were as intelligent as you two I probably wouldn’t have joined up” teased Bilbo from beside them.
“That’s low Cousin Bilbo” pouted Kili “We’re highly intelligent dwarrows.”
“Mmmhmm” hummed Bilbo looking past the princes to what was carved out of the mountain. “Tell me oh intelligent dwarf, do those look like stairs behind you?”
Fili and Kili immediately turned and gaped out the obvious sign that was before them.
“THORIN, BILBO FOUND IT” bellowed Fili. In only a few short moments later the entire Company had gathered around the three.
“Good work Bilbo” praised Thorin as he gazed up the statue of his ancestor and the cut steps that led up the mountainside. Wasting no more time he led the group to the statue and immediately began to climb up the stairs. It was if a force was pulling at the King, drawling him forward and getting stronger with each stair he took.
Bilbo settled on being towards the back as the Company began to follow there King up the steps. He wasn’t too keen on following, Hobbits were not meant to climb to high. But then again Hobbits were not supposed to go on adventures, and fly on eagles and battle orcs and spiders. But like with the water, Bilbo did not want to go. Feeling a hand come down on his shoulder, Bilbo turned to see Bofur standing next to him.
“Come on Bilbo, up you get” said Bofur hoisting Bilbo up to the first step. Bilbo smiled at his friend and looked upwards at the never ending stairs. With a sigh he began to concentrate on one step up at a time, never once looking down at the receding ground below him. Bilbo was only halfway up the stairs as the sun began to sink closer to the horizon signifying that there time was about to run out.
Despite his protesting muscles and his struggle for air, Bilbo pushed himself to go faster up the stairs. Until just as the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon he reached the top and the shelf that was the destination.
“The last light of Durin’s day…will shine upon the keyhole” murmured Thorin looking at the sun and then at the mountain side, eyes searching for a sign of the keyhole. But the whole side looked the same he turned to Nori.
“Nori” he said, not needing to say anything else as the thief set to work with trying to find a hollow place behind the rock. Meanwhile the sun continued to sink, and only minutes were left of the day. “Were losing the light, come on” urged Thorin as Dwalin came forward and began to beat on the wall.
Thorin could only watch with devastation in his heart as the sun completely disappeared and it was all over. They had failed. “That’s it” he said, his voice hollow as he gazed at the key in his hand. “What did we miss” he whispered brokenly, “the last light will shine upon the keyhole”
None of the dwarrows would look at their King as he asked these question. Not even Balin knew the answer, and Bilbo looked around with distress at his family. “That can’t be it” he said.
Balin shook his head sadly, “We had one chance and we lost it, there is nothing else we can do.”
Bilbo could only watch as Thorin dropped the key and turned to head back down the stairs, the rest of the dwarrows following him.
All but Bilbo followed, “We can’t give up now!” he cried out after them.
No Bilbo refused to believe he had traveled this far, and went through all that pain just to fail at the last moment. He glared at the mountain willing for the door to appear.
From behind the clouds the crescent moon shone through, spilling rays of pale light onto the side of the mountain. “Of course” he breathed as he gazed at what only could be the keyhole.
Bilbo quickly started to call, “It was a riddle, the last light meant the moon. It’s light is the last light of Durin’s day” he yelled.
Within moments Thorin had come rushing back and grabbed the key from where he dropped it. Very gently did he place the key into the keyhole almost afraid that it would break in his hand as he gentle turned it. From within the mountain he heard a click and taking a deep breath he put his shoulder to the stone and pushed. Soundlessly the door swung open and Thorin could only stand there shocked for a moment.
“Erebor” breathed Thorin as he took a few small steps forward into the tunnel and gently raised a hand to touch the smooth walls.
“I know these walls, these halls, these stones” whispered Thorin leaning against the stone walls. The feel of his native stone under his hands made something in Thorin’s chest unwind and for a moment he felt at peace for the first time in over a century, he was home.
Thorin allowed himself to close his eyes and lean his forehead against the wall and let the feeling last for a few precious minutes. The Company was silent as they watched their King, Balin could only lay a relevant hand against the stone as tears escaped his eyes. He had almost given up hope of ever being inside Erebor ever again.
When Thorin pushed himself off the wall the rest of the dwarrows took this as a sign that they could enter the halls. For some, this would be the first time they entered the hallowed halls of their forefathers.
“Herein lies the seventh kingdom of Durin's folk. May the Heart of the Mountain unite all Dwarves in defense of this home” read Gloin, looking at a carving above the door.
The very mention of the heart of the mountain had the reality of why he was here slam down on Bilbo.“I guess it is time for me to complete my part of the contract” said Bilbo with false cheer. It did little to lift the black cloud that seemed to descend on the Company as they realized they were about to send Bilbo on what could be a suicide mission. But they couldn’t argue with that, not when one look at Bilbo did they see the determination shine through. Nothing they said to their hobbit would change his mind even if they did beg. Fili, Kili, and Ori all at once threw themselves on the hobbit squeezing him. If a sniffle was heard no one commented on it. After a few minutes Dwalin had to pry them off to get in his own hug, and one by one the dwarrows hugged their burglar, whispering words of encouragement. After the last one let go, Bilbo took a step back.
Bilbo looked at each member of the Company, memorizing their features, allowing himself to remember some of the brighter sides of the journey, knowing that it was possible that this was the last time that he might see them if everything went wrong and Smaug found him. Many eyes held a sheen of tears that they dare not let flow while Bilbo could see.
“You watch yourself Bilbo” Bofur said seriously the usual jovial shine to his eyes was gone. “If that dragon is still alive don’t wait around.
“I will” he said seriously, the time for fake cheer and jokes was past. As he turned to leave he was surprised to see Balin walk forward.
“I will come with you half-way Bilbo” he said. And Bilbo felt a rush of gratitude fill him as he looked at the older dwarf.
“Thank-you Balin” he said.
With one last final look at the Company, Bilbo and Balin disappeared into the winding tunnel leaving the rest of the dwarrows to do nothing but wait and worry. Some prayed to Mahal, that that wasn’t the last view they would ever get of their hobbit.
Notes:
I am alive!!!! Sorry for the long wait, but finally got this chapter wrestled into submission. Hope you enjoyed it!
Chapter 20: Smaug
Summary:
Bilbo enters Erebor and awakens a dragon...
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Bilbo was grateful for Balin for coming with him part of the way, for a moment it just felt like they were taking a stroll instead of walking to the belly of the beast. Bilbo tried to distract himself by looking all around him, amazed at the crafting that was all around him, the soaring arches, towering statues, and all the details in a single strip of stone. But to soon did his mind wander back to the dragon, seeing chunks of stone ripped away from column and the claw marks that were left behind. Balin seemed to grow sad as he trailed a hand over some of the columns, no doubt remembering what the pieces of art looked like before Smaug came to the mountain.
All too soon Balin halted on top of a walkway and turned to face Bilbo. “This is as far as I dare go Bilbo.”
Bilbo’s heart clenched at these words, he did not want to continue on alone, but he knew that he had to continue to much rested on his shoulders to quit now. “Thank-you for coming this far” he said smiling faintly at Balin.
Balin gently stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the young hobbit, holding him close. “Bilbo try to find the stone, but if Smaug is still alive and he awakens get out of there. No stone is worth losing you” said Balin hugging Bilbo tightly.
“I will Balin” replied Bilbo as he hugged Balin tight, soaking in the warmth and love he felt. He reluctantly pulled away and gave Balin a little wave. “See you soon”
Balin returned the wave but said nothing as he watched Bilbo descend down the staircase towards the treasure room. He sighed sorrowfully as he turned to leave when an etching of Mahal bring the seven Fathers to life caught his eye. Reaching out he placed his hand on the figure of Mahal and said a prayer. “Dear Mahal, if you can hear my prayer please protect Bilbo from the wrath of Smaug and help him to reunite with the ones that hold him dear” whispered Balin. Hoping that the King of the Forge could hear his prayer, Balin made his way back to the ledge were the rest of the Company was waiting.
The further Bilbo walked the more he marveled at the works of art that got more intricant the closer he got to where the treasure room was supposed to be located. The stone grew was oddly warm underneath Bilbo’s feet as he traveled closer and closer to the entrance to the treasury. He was certain that he had the right spot since the wall was shadowed with a gold light. His steps slowed to a crawl as he cautiously entered the doorway and was amazed at the sight that lay before him.
Bilbo gapped at the mountains of treasure that the hall held, never in his imagination did he think that there would be so much. Yet he could know see why Smaug had been so attracted to Erebor in the first place. As he gazed at the countless number of coins and gems that gleamed around him, Bilbo’s stomach clenched. How would he ever just find one jewel amongst the millions of pieces? He could probably spend the rest of his life looking for it and never come close to finding it.
With great care he started to step onto one of the piles of treasure, trying with all his might to not make the slightest sounds. It unnerved Bilbo that there was no sign of Smaug within the mountain. The air was musty but it did not carry the stench of rotting flesh, and Bilbo could feel it down in his bones that the dragon was somewhere close.
Reaching down to examine a white gem the coins in his fingers brushed a goblet causing it to shift, a small cascade of coins spilled down. Bilbo paused his heart beating wildly as he waited to see what would happen. For a long moment after the sound of the moved coins had quit echoing in the room it was silent not a thing moved and Bilbo almost let out a sigh of relief when to plumes of gold shot off the ground only a few feet in front of him causing the hobbit to jump and even more coins shifted this time revealing the shape of dragon spines the covered half of the treasury. But Bilbo’s attention was drawn to where the two plumes of coins had shot up from and he watched in horror at the head of Smaug, the breathing alive Smaug was uncovered. Bilbo had enough good sense to duck behind the nearest column as a rumble began to fill the air.
“Well, thief! I smell you, I hear your breath, I feel your air. Where are you?” came a deep rumbling voice that reverberated through Bilbo’s whole chest, along with the sound of Smaug taking deep breaths of air in through his nose. Bilbo remained as silent as he dared though he felt like his heart was beating loud enough to echo in the chamber.
A flood of coins spilled next to Bilbo’s hiding place and he knew that Smaug was heading his way. He slowly slipped around the far side of the column to make a run for it when a large claw thundered in front of him. Bilbo scrambled back but wasn’t fast enough as the other one blocked off his escape. Bilbo slowly turned and watched as Smaug’s head appeared.
“Come now, don’t be shy…step into the light” commanded Smaug bringing his head to down to peer at Bilbo. “There you are, Thief in the Shadows!” Smaug had expected a man to be the one foolish enough to enter his domain but this was like no man he had ever seen.
“What are you thief?” asked Smaug, as he used his paws to cage the smaller creature between them. The creature was like none that Smaug had ever encountered and he wanted his curiosity satisfied before he killed the thief. The creature was shorter than a dwarf, and had bare feet. But what caught Smaug’s eye was the scar on the creatures face, a brand of ownership in the goblin tongue. Also the creature had braids of a dwarf on his head, so many contradictions and Smaug was entertaining the idea not to kill the thing straight away.
Bilbo gulped trying not to cower underneath the golden gaze of Smaug. But he felt like a speck of dirt compared to the immense size of the dragon. His legs were shaking badly as he felt the hot breath of Smaug flow over him. “I-I-I’m Nobody” stuttered Bilbo.
“Well Nobody, what a poor thief you are to meet your end here.”
“I did not come to steal from you, O Smaug the Unassessably Wealthy. I merely wanted to gaze upon your magnificence, to see if you were as great as the old tales say. I did not believe them” said Bilbo quickly, hoping that flattery would give him enough time to figure a way out of the treasury without dying. To his amazement Smaug seemed to enjoy the praise as he stuck a pose showing Bilbo all of his immense size.
“And do you, NOW?” questioned Smaug smugly.
“Truly songs and tales fall utterly short of your enormity, O Smaug the Stupendous...” Bilbo said truthfully. But he knew that he had went to far as something shifted in Smaug’s golden gaze
“Do you think flattery will keep you alive?” demanded Smaug, he could see through the little thief’s plan. But he did have to give Nobody points for coming up with something original. Other would be thieves just tried to kill him with their weapons when he caught them. But Nobody clearly was stalling so that he could find a way out, though Smaug knew it was pointless. He would let Nobody continue to speak until the little thing revealed what his plans were.
“No, no...” stuttered Bilbo as he scrambled back as Smaug’s open-maw came closer.
“No, indeed! You seem familiar with my name, but I don't remember smelling your kind before. Who are you and where do you come from, may I ask?” said Smaug sending a bit of smoke in Bilbo’s direction. Bilbo knew that it would be bad to give Smaug his real name, giving any information to Smaug was a risky game. As he scrambled to think of something a gentle blue color gained his attention. Leaning slightly forward he saw it was a gem and in that moment he realized it was the Arkenstone, just as Balin had described it.
“I come from under the hill...” began Bilbo
“Underhill?”
“...and under the hill and over the hills my paths lead. And through the air! I am he who walks unseen!” said Bilbo remembering what the meaning of his Mother’s clan animal meant as he slowly tried to creep towards the stone.
“Impressive titles. What else do you claim to be?” Smaug still had no idea what the little thing was and how he had managed to enter his mountain. Leaning forward he drew in a deep breath of Nobody’s sent. Hot fury began to seep through his veins as he recognized the scent of dwarf that lay heavily upon the creature.
“Luck-Wearer...Pathfinder...” mumbled Bilbo running out of things to say and growing more nervous with Smaug’s giant teeth right in front of him. His hot stinking breath flowed all around Bilbo, making him what to gag.
“Lovely titles...” said Smaug growing bored with this little game as he maneuvered himself to be in the right spot to devour the creature.
“Barrel-Rider!”
“Barrels!” said Smaug backing off from the creature for the moment. “Now that is interesting!” rumbled Smaug, of course the men from the Lake were behind this as well. “And what about your little dwarf friends? Where are they hiding?”
“Dw-Dwarves...” said Bilbo trying to play dumb, “No. No dwarves here. You've got that all wrong” but he couldn’t hide the fear in his voice and it was something Smaug caught.
“Oh, I don't think so, Barrel-Rider! They sent you in here to do their dirty work, while they skulk about outside!” It hadn’t missed Smaug’s notice that the creature was trying to reach the glowing stone the dwarves called the Arkenstone.
“Truly, you are mistaken, O Smaug Chiefest and Greatest of All Calamities...” said Bilbo trying to calm Smaug down with flattery once more.
“You have nice manners for a thief, slave, and a LIAR!” yelled Smaug making the stones shake beneath them. “I know the smell and taste of dwarves, no one better!” Bilbo took a few steps forward closer to the stone as Smaug ranted. “It is the gold! They are drawn to treasure like flies to dead flesh!” Unfortunately as Smaug said these last words, his great claw came down upon the spot that the Arkenstone was resting and caused it to tumble down on the many hills of gold. Without a second thought Bilbo scrambled after it, trying to grab it as well as staying out of the way of Smaug’s claws.
“Did you think I did not know this day would come?! That a pack of canting dwarves would come crawling back to the mountain?!” roared Smaug chasing after the thief. Bilbo tried to stay on his feet, knowing that if he stumbled he would die, but as Smaug rammed into a pillar Bilbo was knocked off his feet and covered in a wave of gold. “The King Under the Mountain is dead! I took his throne, I ate his people like a wolf among sheep! I kill where I wish, WHEN I wish! My armour is iron, no blade can pierce me!”
The weight was heavy and suffocating as the hobbit tried to dig himself out. He managed to finally see the ceiling when a great claw came crashing over top of him and it was all the motivation for Bilbo to burst out of the remaining gold and begin to run again. He managed a few steps with Smaug right behind him. But he eventually fell down rolling head over tail down a mountain of gold.
“It's Oakenshield! That filthy dwarfish usurper! He sent you in here for the Arkenstone, didn't he?!” roared Smaug as Bilbo slide under a shelf of stone that was to small for Smaug to put his head through.
“No! No, no, I don't know what you're talking about!” yelled Bilbo standing up as he spotted the very stone only a few feet away from his shelter.
“Don't bother denying it! I guessed his foul purpose sometime ago. But it matters not. Oakenshield's quest will fail. The darkness is coming. It will spread to every corner of the land” said Smaug smugly as he brought his head to eye level as the shelf eyeing the pillar he knew the thief was hiding behind before climbing on top of the shelf so he would know exactly when the thief escaped.
“You have been used, Thief in the Shadows. You were only ever a means to an end. The coward Oakenshield has measured your life and found it to be worth nothing...”
“No. No! You're lying!” yelled Bilbo, the dwarrows cared for him. They had adopted him, taken care of his wounds, and gave him comfort. Smaug didn’t know anything.
“What did he promise you? A share of the treasure? As if it was his to give? I will not part with a single coin! Not one piece of it! My teeth are swords! My claws are spears! And my wings are a HURRICANE!” roared Smaug. Bilbo took a chance to run out heading straight to the stone when Smaug’s tail slammed down next to him causing the hobbit, the stone, and treasure to fly into the air before they came falling down beside a pillar.
Bilbo stood up to face the approaching Smaug when he spotted it. A missing scale in the exact same place the story Bain had told said it was.
“So it is true. The Black Arrow found its mark” whispered Bilbo to himself. Forgetting for a moment about how good a dragon’s hearing was as Smaug snapped his head around to look at him.
“What did you say?!” asked Smaug in a deadly whisper.
“I-I was just saying, your reputation precedes you, O Smaug the Tyrannical. Truly, you have no equal on this earth” stammered Bilbo stumbling back when he saw the stone just inches away from his feet. Smaug gaze followed his and he smiled sinisterly at Bilbo and Bilbo knew that the dragon was done playing games.
A dagger also lay next to his feet, it was such a small thin blade that Bilbo knew he had no chance of killing Smaug with it. Even if his aim was true, the dagger did not have the length and weight behind it to fully pierce Smaug’s heart. The best he could do was aim for the dragon’s other vulnerable spot, the eyes. It was simple enough to pretend to stumble as the dragon came closer, every step he took caused the mountain to shake. Bilbo was able to grab the dagger and hid it as Smaug came to tower above him.
“I am almost tempted to let you take it, if only to see Oakenshield suffer, watch it destroy him, watch it corrupt his heart and drive him mad... But I think not. I think our little game ends here!” Smaug said, his chest beginning to glow as he summoned the fire deep from his chest and Bilbo knew that this would be his only chance of getting out of the treasure room alive. Barely taking time to aim he let the dagger fly from his hand.
The dagger flew true and embedded deep in the eye of Smaug. The roar of Smaug let loose shook the entire mountain, startling the Company who had been waiting anxiously since Balin had come back of any sign of the hobbit.
“Was that an earthquake?” questioned Fili, as the older Dwarrows paled underneath their beards.
“No, that my lad was a dragon” said Balin.
“Bilbo” breathed Bofur his face white underneath his mustache.
Thorin seemed to hesitate only a second as a darkness flashed over his vision before he was running through the doorway with his sword drawn. The rest of the Company swiftly followed after him into the mountain.
With Smaug in pain Bilbo took his chance and grabbed the Arkenstone and ducked into a small alcove, which previously had been hidden by a mountain of gold, but it had been swept away by one stroke of Smaug’s tale. With Smaug’s roars of pain shook the whole mountain, Bilbo could only stagger to the hole, praying Smaug had not seen him. Above him, Smaug was still shaking his head trying to escape the pain. But he only succeeded in flinging the dagger out of his eye, followed by a flood of blood making the dragon even more terrifying.
“You will pay for that Nobody,” roared Smaug letting lose a stream of fire from his jaws. Bilbo clamped both hands over his mouth to keep from screaming as all around his hiding place burst into flames. The very air seemed to burn his lungs and his skin felt that it was melting off. He knew that he couldn’t take much more of this, he needed to distract Smaug so he could try to make his way back to the dwarrows. Searching around his feet he found a large ruby about the size of an apple. Grasping it he waited until Smaug’s newly blind eye was facing his direction before throwing it as hard as he could over the dragon and onto a pile of gold in the opposite side of the room.
It was luck that it hit a large golden bowl producing a hollow sound. Smaug’s head immediately snapped in that direction and Bilbo took his chance to run to the door, all the while ignoring the burning sensation on the soles of his feet from the molten gold.
Bilbo scrambled up the stairs, flame and heat following him. He prayed that Smaug would not realize that he was gone from the treasury before he could warn the dwarrows. Turning to look he didn’t see the body until he was slamming into it. The stoutness of the body he slammed into had him on his backside quite forcefully.
Looking up he was surprised to see cerulean eyes looking down at him. Thorin Oakenshield had entered his rightful place in the mountain. “Thorin we have to get out of here” urged Bilbo as he scrambled to his feet.
Thorin face did not change, if anything his face grew sharper. “Do you have it, the Arkenstone?!” he demanded.
Bilbo couldn’t believe his ears, there was a dragon raging behind him and all Thorin asked about was the Arkenstone? The stone nestled deep in his pocket suddenly felt like it weighted more than a stone giant. He reached out his hand, grasping at Thorin’s sleeve. “Please Thorin, we have to go” he pleaded. Something shifted in Thorin’s gaze and suddenly Bilbo found himself being tugged along the path back to the hidden door. They caught up to the Company only a few yards later.
“Bilbo your alive” came cries from his dwarrows. Bilbo managed a brief smile at them as Thorin pulled him past.
“Run” ordered Thorin, and the Company didn’t hesitate as they followed after Thorin. Behind them came the sound of thundering wings and as if under a spell the whole Company grew still to listen.
Balin was the one to break the spell, “Quickly” he urged leading the Company further into Erebor. If they could make it to the western corridors then they might find a way out. They ran until they came to an open passageway full of bridges. Thorin was the one to cautiously lead the way onto the bridge when a coin landed at the feet of Ori. Bilbo was pushed behind Thorin and Balin into the shadow of the rock as Smaug glided above them, dropping coins and gems as he went. Smaug didn’t seem to notice them as the snuck into a small corridor and continued to run until they came to a gruesome sight.
The hallway was blocked with rubble and the mummified corpses of dwarrows lay before them. “The last of our kin. They must have come here hoping beyond hope. We could make for the mines. Might last a few days” said Balin sadly.
“No. I will not die like this, cowering, clawing for breath. We make for the forges” he said.
“He'll see us! Sure as death” argued Dwalin.
“Not if we spit up” insisted Thorin.
“Thorin we will never make it” said Balin.
Thorin looked at the bodies of the dead dwarrows, his people who had died hiding in fear from the dragon and then he looked to his men. He could see the fear in their eyes, but he could also see the courage shining through. “Some of us might. Lead him to the forges. We kill the dragon. If this is to end in fire, then we will all burn together! Said Thorin.
Sheer terror of dying an unpleasant death was all that kept Bilbo on his feet as he raced the walkways of Erebor. It was like a bad game of tag as different members of the Company yelled at Smaug to follow them as they tried to lead him to the forges. Smaug seemed to be enjoying it telling them to flee for there lives.
Bilbo found himself running after Balin when Thorin had been forced to separate from them as Smaug had spewed another stream of fire. Balin led them into the great forge where they lay stone cold. Minutes later Thorin rejoined them but didn’t seem concerned to find the forges cold instead he smirked and turned towards the figure of Smaug climbing his way out of the chasm he had fallen into.
Thorin began to taunt the great beast to blow it’s fire at them. “I do not think to see you so easily outwitted! You have grown slow and fat in your dotage...slug!”
That seemed to do it as Smaug let loss a jet of flame sending the Company to seek shelter behind the pillars. Bilbo’s lungs seemed again to burn as the scalding air was breathed in. It was a wonder the stone did not melt from the heat. But Bilbo was extremely glad they didn’t, they were the only reason why the Company had not been burnt to a crisp. But like Thorin predicted, Smaug breath was enough to lite the great forgers once more.
Bellows that would probably take a couple dwarrows to operate were no match for Bombur great weight as he jumped on the chain at Thorin’s orders and began to pump them to heat the gold that had been left in the forge the day the dragon came. The fight was chaos, with explosions and debris being thrown everywhere. Bilbo barely was able to duck from one of the gold containers flew past him as Smaug slammed around. And maters only got worse when Smaug slammed into the walkway Bilbo was still standing on when he had released the water. As the hobbit tumbled to the ground the eye of Smaug once again found him.
“Keep going Bilbo” yelled Thorin as he turned around as he rode the river into the tunnel. Heat pooled around Thorin from every side as he rode the wheel barrow through the river of gold. He prayed that his plan worked and that all the Company survived this encounter.
As Thorin disappeared into the tunnel, Bilbo was once again forced to run for his life as Smaug chased after him. Bilbo just hoped as he ran that he was heading in the right direction or the whole plan whould collapse. Bilbo had entered a large chamber moments before Smaug who ripped down a large canvas that floated to the ground covering Bilbo and hiding him from Smaug’s remaining eye.
Smaug entered the large room, the scent of Nobody was quite close. “You think you can deceive me, Barrel-rider?! You have come from Lake-Town! This is some sordid scheme hatched between these filthy Dwarves and those miserable tub-trading Lake-Men. Those sniveling cowards with their Longbows and Black Arrows! Perhaps it is time I paid them a visit!”
Bilbo heart stopped, his mind flashing back to sweet little Tilda. And then the words that Bard had spoken echoed in his mind. The Lord of Silver Fountains, the King of Carven Stone, the King beneath the Mountain shall come into his Hold. And the Bells shall Ring in Gladness, at the Mountain King’s Return. But all shall Fail in Sadness and The Lake Will Shine and Burn. He had to try to prove this prophecy wrong.
“Oh no... This isn't their fault! WAIT! You cannot go to Lake-Town!” yelled Bilbo running into the room to face Smaug once more.
“You care about them, do you? Good. Then you can watch them DIE!” smiled Smaug. He would destroy the men and then return to finish the dwarves and creature off. Then all shall know not to enter the mountain ever again. Turning his back on the creature he started to head towards the front gate.
“HERE, YOU WITLESS WORM!” yelled Thorin causing the great beast to turn its single eye back onto Thorin which narrowed as it caught sight of Thorin.
“You...!” he snarled.
“I am taking back what you stole!” declared Thorin, the treasure of his forefathers would no longer be defiled by Smaug if it was the last thing he did.
“You will take nothing from me, Dwarf. I laid low your warriors of old. I instill terror in the hearts of men. I am King under the Mountain!” declared Smaug coming closer to Thorin.
“This is not your kingdom! These are Dwarf lands! This is Dwarf gold! And we will have our revenge!” shouted Thorin. “Pull!” ordered Thorin, to the Company.
The chains holding the cover fell away from the statue revealing the solid gold figure of King Thror. Smaug seemed to be hypnotized by the sight of so much gold as he stared into the face of King Thror. When suddenly a stream of gold burst from the eye and the whole statue seemed to melt, covering the dragon with molten gold.
A cheer went up from the dwarrows as liquid gold lay still beneath them. All but Thorin and Bilbo stayed silent with their eyes focused on the gold beneath them. They couldn’t believe that it could just be over. And they were right, for only moments later Smaug head and wings burst from the gold.
“Revenge?! Revenge?! I will show you REVENGE!” roared Smaug as he stagged out of the gold and towards the front gate. Like a child knocking down a tower of blocks Smaug burst through the tons of rock and took flight into the sky.
Bilbo stumbled out of the mountain in horror as he watched the dark shape of Smaug fly towards Laketown, “What have we done?” He whispered as a flame of fire left Smaug’s jaws lightening up the unsuspecting town.
They had won back the mountain, but at what cost?
Notes:
Hoped you liked, please review.
Chapter 21: One Last Day
Chapter Text
Bilbo watched in guilt as the town of Laketown burned far below them. The whole Company had gathered around him, Balin looked far older than he was as he watched for the second time as a town of man faced the wrath of a dragon.
Bilbo prayed to Mahal, to Yavanna, that not many perished in the dragon fire. Closing his eyes he tried to block the face of Tilda. Bilbo would never forgive himself if Tilda or any of her siblings went to the halls of their Fathers this night.
The words of Bard had whispered to him before they had departed echoed in his ears.
The Lord of Silver Fountains, the King of Carven Stone, the King Beneath the Mountain, shall come into his own. And the bells shall ring in gladness, at the Mountain King’s return, But all shall fail in sadness, and the Lake will shine and burn.
It seemed as the prophecy had come true.
“There’s nothing we can do” said Thorin finally with regret clear in his voice. “We have no supplies and we are too far away to offer immediate aid.”
With that the King Under the Mountain turned away from the burning town and turned his gaze back onto the Mountain. Finally his people now had a home, a place that was welcomed to them. Never would his people have to toil in the villages of men to put bread onto their tables. There was plenty of gold inside the mountain to make every dwarf in Middle Earth very rich.
Our gold hissed a voice in Thorin’s mind. A sudden feeling of anger steeled over Thorin at the thought of giving the gold away. Thorin shook his head displacing the thought. He didn’t understand where it had come from.
Looking back at his men, he was relieved that none was watching him. No one had seen the moment of anger that had overcome him. For a creeping suspicion was starting to knawel on Thorin’s mind. The curse of the line of Durin. But he shook his head, he was not one for superstition. Everything would be alright once they found the Arkenstone. With the Arkenstone in hand, he would be able to take his rightful birthright and have the dwarf lords rally behind him.
With those thoughts circling in his head he made his way back towards the mountain. All thoughts of Laketown and its people were gone from his mind.
One by one the dwarrows followed their leaders example and trickled back into the mountain until it was just Bilbo. Bilbo couldn’t take his eyes off the sight of the burning lake, even after the fire had consumed the wood and only smoke remained. He could only think one thing, and that it was his fault. He had woken the dragon, he had taunted the beast and called himself a barrel rider. He had been foolish to think that the dragon wouldn’t retaliate.
He stayed until the east began to lighten up with the approaching dawn. He didn’t notice he was shaking with cold and the frost that covered his coat. He probably would have stayed their longer if a hand did not land on his shoulder, finally pulling his sight away from the smoldering ruins of Laketown.
“Bilbo have you been out here all night?” asked Dori with concern crouching down beside the hobbit. Wincing when he felt frost begin to melt under his hand. There was no doubt in the dwarf’s mind that their resident hobbit had been in the same position all night.
Bilbo nodded, letting out a squeak when Dori picked him up. “We are going back to the mountain, and you are going to get something to eat and then you are going to bed.”
Bilbo hummed in agreement, too tired to argue, and in the protective embrace of Dori he realized how cold he was. The dwarf holding him was a furnace, Bilbo unconsciously snuggled deeper into the embrace and soon fell asleep.
Dori continued to walk towards the mountain with the sleeping Bilbo in his arms. He took his time to navigate through the fallen rock that had once made up the front gates. It saddened him to see the grand entry of Erebor in shambles. He could still remember how they used to look before Smaug came. But he was confident that it would once again reach its former glory. Turning to the right he went into an intact room that the Company had decided to make camp in. Only Bofur was present as he stepped in. He looked surprised to see the hobbit in Dori’s arms.
“Is he alright?” asked Bofur, watching Dori lower the hobbit onto some bedrolls.
“He’s exhausted, he was awake all night staring at the ruins of Laketown” said Dori, brushing Bilbo’s braids from his face. “More than likely blaming himself for what happened with Smaug.”
“Smaug would have burned Laketown anyway” said Bofur, “Even if we hadn’t woken him, he eventually would have.”
Dori hummed in agreement as he made to take off the blue coat that Bilbo had on him. Bilbo jerked awake when the coat was fully off. Bilbo barely could open his eyes as he grabbed for the coat, “Thorin” he mumbled. He had to get what was in his pocket to Thorin.
Dori frowned and looked at the coat, not understanding. “Pocket” came another mumbled response. Dori began to search the pockets, frowning when he felt a stone in one of them. He drew it out and slowly swore as he saw what was in his hands. It was the Arkenstone.
“Bofur, get Thorin now” whispered Dori, his eyes never leaving the stone that was faintly glowing in his hand. Bofur tore his eyes off the stone and ran towards the treasury where most of the Company was.
“Thorin, we’ve found it!” he called as soon as he entered the doorway to the treasury. Thorin who had been standing on a tall pill of gold turned at the sound of Bofur. As soon as he heard the words out of the toy makers mouth he was sliding down the pile.
“Where is it?” he demanded as soon as he reached Bofur. The toymaker stepped back at the slightly crazed look on Thorin’s face but thought nothing of it at the time.
“Back at camp” he said turning to lead Thorin there. The rest of the Company followed not far behind them. When they reached the room the Company had set up camp, Dori had not moved from where Bofur had left him. He only moved when he noticed the entry of Thorin. As Thorin approached, Dori sank down onto one knee.
“My King” said Dori softly as he held up the stone for Thorin to take.
Slowly Thorin reached out with a look of relevance on his face, “The Arkenstone,” he breathed as he held the stone in his hands. The stone looked exactly as he remembered it to be. He couldn’t believe that he actually had the sign of his birthright in his hand. Slowly he turned to Fili and Kili, his heirs. He slowly reached out for them to take it.
Fili carefully took the stone with a look of wonder on his face. “It’s beautiful” he whispered.
“More beautiful than you described it to be” whispered Kili, fingers slowly skimming the surface of the stone.
Balin chuckled as he came to the side of Fili, “There are not words to describe the brilliance of the Arkenstone, though many had tried to.”
Thorin turned back to Dori, “How did you find it?” he asked.
“I didn’t find it, Bilbo had it” Dori explained looking at the slumbering hobbit. “Poor thing stayed up all night watching Laketown burn. I brought him back in to rest, he woke when I took off his coat. Wanted me to go through his pockets and give what was in it to you. That is when I found the Arkenstone.”
Thorin smiled warmly down at the hobbit. “Our lucky number indeed” he said fondly.
Turning to his Company he smiled, “Come let us celebrate our good fortune, and reward our good fortune by letting Bilbo sleep.”
“Aye” came the quiet chorus of voices. As the Company went out to celebrate with barrels of ale that Nori had found in the ruins, Bilbo slept on. No one knowing that this would be the last day things would be so care free and the pain and betrayal that was on the horizon.
Chapter 22: Banking Up
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Bilbo slept through the morning of celebration and by late evening it had died down. It was the next morning when Bilbo opened his eyes to the sight of an empty campsite. He felt very well rested, though his stomach was protesting the lack of food that it had in it. Deciding to investigate he got out of bed and wandered to wear he remembered Bombur had set up the are where he would cook.
The mystery of where the dwarrows were at was quickly solved as he found them around the pot Bombur had obviously cooked with if his nose gave an indication.
“Bilbo about time you woke up lad” called out Gloin, being first to spot the hobbit making his way over to them.
“We were about ready to send the young princes to get you up” said Balin fondly.
“I’m glad that I woke up then, how long was I asleep?” he asked taking the spot between Bofur and Ori, and thanking Bombur when he was passed a bowl of soup. Though it really wasn’t appropriate breakfast food, Bilbo wasn’t going to complain.
“All of yesterday, and last night” replied Balin.
“You missed a great celebration Cousin Bilbo” said Kili from his place on the opposite side of the circle. “We drank and sang through the whole day celebrating the return of the Arkenstone.”
Bilbo paused as he was bringing another spoonful of stew to his mouth. He vaguely remembered Dori undressing him and remembering he had the Arkenstone in his pocket. Being basically asleep like that he had forgotten the look in Thorin’s eyes outside of the treasury. But fully awake he now remembered his reservations about giving the stone to Thorin until he could discuss it with Balin and possible Oin. But now it appeared to be to late. The stone had already be given to Thorin, and he knew it would be impossible to take it back now. Not when he knew how much the stone meant o Thorin.
Only Balin seemed to notice the slight hesitation that happened when the discovery was mentioned to Bilbo, but he soon put it out of mind, thinking that the hobbit mearily didn’t remember since he was mostly asleep at the time.
Fili picked up where his brother had left off, “Since your wide awake now, I’m sure that Thorin would like to thank you properly.”
Bilbo looked around, noticing for the first time that everybody was present except for Thorin and Dwalin. “Where is Thorin?”
“Uncle already ate, he went to the treasury to see if he could find the Raven Crown of his Grandfathers” replied Fili. “And Dwalin is watching the front gate.”
“I see” said Bilbo finishing his stew. “Are we expecting Company?”
“No but anything can happen, this trip has proved that” said Bofur.
As if his words summoned it, Dwalin voice boomed in the empty kingdom.
“Thorin, we have a visitor” called out Dwalin from his post at the front gate. Bilbo followed the rest of the Company as they went to the wall. From the distance it was hard to tell who was coming, but as the rider came closer Bilbo was relieved to see that it was Bard.
“It’s Bard” whispered Bilbo, “It’s Bard” he yelled.
Bilbo was very happy to see the bargeman had survived the dragon attack, now all Bilbo could hope was that all three of his children had survived to. Closer and closer the horse came until it drew level with the dwarrows standing outside the ruined gates.
“Hail Oakenshield, I see that you and your Company survived Smaug” said Bard, though he left it unsaid that many in Laketown had perished.
“Hail Bard, I am sorry that we did not manage to kill him and that Laketown paid the price” said Thorin. “Tell me what of your kin?”
Bilbo held his breath waiting for Bard to answer, “My children are well, thank the Valar” replied Bard.
Thorin nodded and knew that the time for pleasantries was over with, “What brings you before the doors of Erebor?”
Bard shifted on his mount, he knew that this was where it was going to get tricky. “I have come to talk to you about the gold that was promised to Laketown. My people need the money to trade with. Smaug destroyed nearly everything we had and winter is coming soon, we need supplies if we are to last till Spring.”
A voice in Thorin’s mind demanded that he turn this man away and not to give him a single gold coin. But he shoved it to the back of his mind. Bard was an ally, he had helped them get into Laketown. Had sheltered them, and he had given his word for gold to the people of Laketown.
Thorin looked over his shoulder at Gloin, “Go get a small chest of coin from the treasury to act as a token of our good will and a promise that I will honor my word. But make sure that it is not too much for his horse to carry back.”
Gloin bowed low, “Yes my King.”
It didn’t take very long for Gloin to come back with a small chest filled with gold coins. Thorin took the chest and walked to Bard and handed the chest to the man. “Here, as a token of our good will. Consider it a small down payment.”
“Thank-You Master Oakenshield” said Bard tying the chest to his horse. He debated for a moment if he should reveal that Thranduil was coming. But since Thorin had acted in good faith, than he would as well. “Be wary Master Oakenshield, Thranduil is coming here with his army for a share of the treasure.” With that Bard mounted his horse and rode back towards the camp of Laketown refugees.
Thorin’s whole face changed, and Bilbo felt a shiver run through his spine as he caught sight of the same look in Thorin’s eyes that he saw outside the treasury. “They will not get one single coin” he said darkly. A sentiment that was echoed throughout the rest of the Company. “I want the front gate rebuilt. That is our most important task!” ordered Thorin.
“Aye Thorin, you heard him men lets get to work before those Elvish bastards get here!” called Dwalin.
Bilbo moved to help but Oin held him back, “Not you laddie. No heavy lifting for you, you’ve had enough injuries and sickness on this time. If my beard wasn’t already grey, you would’ve turned it grey.”
“So I’m supposed to sit here and just watch you guys do all the work?” demanded Bilbo.
“Yes!” came the reply from almost all of the Company.
Bilbo grumbled but sit down, and watched that gate being built slowly but steadily. Bofur was basically in charge, since he had the most experience with mines and such. He knew how to place the rock so it would not collapse on top of everyone. Bilbo had to admire how efficient the dwarrows were when they had a task set in front of them.
Since Bilbo was not allowed to help, he left around noon to prepare something for the Company to eat. Bilbo sighed when he saw the rations that were left, which wasn’t much. At the rate they were going within the end of the week they would have none left. He followed Bombur’s lead and made a pot of stew, something warm and filling that didn’t use a whole lot of supplies.
When he went to tell his dwarrows that lunch was done, he was surprised to see the wall was nearly there.
“Very impressive” he said.
Nori who was near snorted, “Your in Erebor, one of the most impressive dwarven cities ever built and your more impressed with a gate built out of broken rock.”
Bilbo poked Nori, “You know I didn’t mean that, I’m just impressed you got it done so quickly.”
“We’re dwarrows, what else do you expect. We’re not like elves and men, we are not afraid to do some hard work. We’ve even more motivated when our home is being threatened by said people.”
Bilbo frowned, “You don’t think that Bard will be against us do you?”
Nori shrugged, “He’s in a precarious position. He can’t afford to make the elves mad, they’re the closest trading partner to Laketown and the only hope they have to survive the winter. But then there is us, the dwarrows who promised gold that they need to help pay for this trade. So Bard is in the middle of sticky situation.”
Bilbo hadn’t thought of it in that way. “What do you think is going to happen?” he asked softly.
“Nothing if we’re lucky” said Nori with false cheer. But Bilbo wasn’t satisfied.
“And if we’re not lucky?”
Nori’s face turned grim, “Then we go to war.”
Notes:
A/N. So I like to support the theory that the One Ring helped push Thorin into the gold sickness so fast. Since the One Ring isn't in play in this story, Thorin isn't falling quite as fast, but he still is wrestling with it. Because I also like the theory that there is a curse caused by Smaug on the gold effects everyone and the Arkenstone is the catalyst for it. Hoped you enjoyed this chapter, hopefully more soon.
Chapter 23: Meetings and Goldsickness
Chapter Text
It wasn’t long before Bard’s words proved to be true. Towards late afternoon the alarm was sounded, and the Company was greeted by the sight of row after row of elves marching in the late sun, their armor reflecting the light.
At the very front of the army, rode Thranduil on his elk. But what surprised and angered the Company the most was the sight of Gandalf riding beside the Elven King.
“Hail King Under the Mountain” called Gandalf as soon as he was in range, his eyes raking the paramount’s and silently counting the dwarrows and frowning when he came up one short. Where was Bilbo? Had something happened to the hobbit since he left him in Mirkwood, had he perished when he snuck into the Mountain? Though he was happy to see that the dwarrows had survived, he would never be able to forgive himself if anything happened to Bilbo. And he was sure Belladonna would find some way to come and haunt him for allowing harm to come to her only son.
For a moment Thorin said nothing just gazing down at the Wizard, a dark suspicion that the Wizard had been on the elves side all along grew in his heart. Why else would the Wizard only come when the elves came, instead of Durin’s Day when he had promised to be at the Mountain.
“Gandalf the Grey, what business brings you to Erebor?” he asked.
Gandalf frowned at the haunty tone that Thorin addressed him with. But he pushed forward. “I have come to help you regain your homeland. I do apologize that I was late, circumstances prevented me from coming sooner. I now strive that you do right by your allies, the gold you promised them.”
Thorin scoffed, the elves were not his allies and never would be. “I will deal with Bard for he is an honorable man, but I refuse to give a single speck of gold to an elf!” snarled Thorin. “Especially since his crimes against my kin has been too grievous to apologize for!”
“This is foolishness Thorin, let go of your pride” demanded Gandalf. If the dwarf would just think of how destructive Smaug was, even with Thranduil people it would have almost impossible to retake the mountain without another massacre of life. If Thorin was to become King Under of the Mountain he would have to make peace with the elves and let go of his grudges.
Thorin growled at that statement, “This is not a matter of pride Wizard, this is for his recent crimes. Tell me Gandalf, has Thranduil not enlightened you as to how he treated Bilbo during our captivity in his realm? What does the Elven King have to say for that offense?”
Surely Thranduil wouldn’t dare to hurt the hobbit. Slowly Gandalf turned to look at Thranduil and the King met it coolly. “What did you do?” demanded Gandalf.
Thranduil was silent, and Thorin spoke up in the silence. “Tell them elf, tell them how you chained Bilbo to a wall like one would an animal and planned to starve him into compliance. That under your care Bilbo’s recovery of previous wounds were set back as a wound from the spiders was allowed to become infected. Tell them how you isolated Bilbo in a cold cell with no friendly contact except when Balin was summoned to calm him down in the healing halls. Or of in a fit of rage you threw him across the room. Or perhaps the crime of your elves of undoing the braids that had been gifted to Bilbo, and then daring to try to redo them!”
Gandalf wanted to deny that the elf king would do such a thing. But Thorin’s words rang with truth, and Thranduil made no attempt in denying that those crimes did not happen.
Thorin wanted to laugh at the look of shock that graced Gandalf’s face as he gapped at the elf. But he refrained from gloating because Bilbo limped his way from out of the Mountain’s Hall. His anger over the arrival of the elves was momentarily forgotten as he raked his eyes over the hobbit’s frame, taking in his condition. Bilbo gave Thorin a weak smile and walked towards Bifur who tucked the hobbit close to his frame. A chilly wind had come down from the North and the dwarrows radiated heat.
Seeing that the hobbit was taken care of Thorin focused again at his visitors below him. It seemed as if Thranduil was now trying to convince Gandalf of his intentions.
“I did what I thought best” defended Thranduil shifting on his elk.
Gandalf didn’t hesitate and flipped his staff around to whack the end of it hard against Thranduil head.
“You fool!” he cried. The Wizard was tempted to whack the elfling again, but the Wizard knew that he wouldn’t be able to get a second hit in. Disgusted Gandalf moved to put distance between Thranduil and himself.
Gandalf turned his attention back to the dwarrrows and once again scanned the figures looking for the smallest one of them all. “Is Bilbo up there with you?”
Bilbo slipped away from Bifur to lean out over the wall so the Wizard could see him properly. “I am here Gandalf” called Bilbo.
There was a genuine look of relief on Gandalf’s face as he looked over the hobbit, looking leaner and paler than the last time he saw him. “Bilbo is what Thorin said true?” the worry in his voice clear as day.
“It’s true Gandalf” Bilbo said quietly, casting his eyes down in shame.
Gandalf turned back to the Elven King and said something in a low voice, not heard by the dwarrows. Apparently it wasn’t something that the Elven King wanted to hear if his face was to go by. But he eventually agreed to whatever Gandalf said going by his curt nod.
Gandalf than turned back to Thorin. “We will depart in peace today Thorin, but we will return tomorrow. I pray that both sides we be able to sit down and discuss a peace treaty and amends can be made from all sides.”
Thorin stared at Gandalf for a long moment, not saying anything. His voice was loud when he finally did answer. “No treaty will be made until the elf admits his wrongs. You may come back tomorrow but it doesn’t mean we will be coming down.”
With that Thorin turned and walked back into the Mountain, the rest of the Company following him immediately. All expect for Bilbo who stayed back long enough to raise a hand in farewell to Gandalf, before following his family into the Mountain.
The tension in the air was thick as Bilbo made his way to the circle his family had made just within the hall. Thorin was in the center pacing like a caged animal, and growling like one. It seemed he was working himself into a rant and the Company was only encouraging him. A shiver ran down Bilbo’s spine as he watched the scene unfold.
“How dare they come here” growled Thorin. “We must protect our Mountain, and not let the thieves at the door ransack our riches. The elves would see us penniless and wandering for the rest of our days.”
“They did it once what’s from stopping them from doing this again!” demanded Dwalin. “Who among us doesn’t remember carrying our dead and wounded from the smoking rubble of Erebor and watching our so called allies just turn away. And now they come demanding compensation.
Bilbo wrung his hands nervously. The dwarrows were getting angrier by the passing minute. It was making him slightly scared. He had never seen his dwarrows this angry, except when Orcs were concerned.
“I say we don’t give a single gold coin to the elves, in memory of those who perished in this mountain and for the pain our clan has felt in our wandering days” called out Gloin. “And until the men break their alliance with the elves as well, no more for them either.”
“Aye” rang out the rest of the Company. Bilbo felt like someone had punched him in the gut.
“But we promised Bard-” he began to say, when he was cut off.
“If it is a fight they want, well lets give them one!” called out Kili.
“To the armory!” yelled Fili.
The dwarrows let out a war cry and followed Thorin further into the Mountain, leaving Bilbo all alone.
The hobbit didn’t understand what had just happened. Where had his family gone? Surely they didn’t expect to fight the army Thranduil brought with him? It would be suicide, and all their hard work would be for nothing. The Quest would mean nothing. Something was happening to the dwarrows he loved, this was unlike them. He had to talk to them, make them see sense.
With his mind made up Bilbo slowly made his way after the dwarrows, determined to talk some sense into Thorin.
5 days later
Bilbo was curled up in the far corner of the treasury afraid. These were not the dwarrows that he called family, the ones he would die to protect. These dwarrows were strangers that only cared for the cold gold and gems around them. Even with the Raven’s news of the army of Orcs and Goblins on their way did not deter the dwarrows from the gold.
Bilbo could see the only way to survive would be to ally themselves with the men and elves. He couldn’t believe how quickly they fell under the gold’s spell, at first he didn’t even realize it was happening. It started with Thorin missing supper the night Thranduil and Gandalf had arrived and combed through the mountains of gold in his new armor even though Bilbo had given the Arkenstone to Thorin.
One by one the dwarrows began to pull away from everything and go deeper into the treasury room. Even the threat of the elves at their doorstep wasn’t enough to pull them away after the second day. Even Oin reluctantly looked on Bilbo’s injuries before going back into the treasury. It there wasn’t enough red flags that something was wrong, the fact Oin seemed annoyed he had to check Bilbo’s injuries was like a mountain troll falling of a house. Something was defiantly wrong. Bilbo could only guess that the gold carried the curse of the greed and possessiveness from Smaug, who had laid on top of this very gold for decades. Just like Elrond had said about Thorin’s Grandfather back in Rivendale. It was Goldsickness and every dwarrow had it. Even the young ones spent their days laying on stacks of gold with a smile.
They didn’t even care that Orcs were coming, or that the food had run out yesterday. All they cared for at the moment was the gold. Bilbo needed to get them help, but the coming Orc army caused a problem. The only way the dwarrows would survive the coming battle, because Bilbo had no doubt that a battle would be coming, would to ally themselves with the armies of elves and men. The hobbit knew however the only way he would accomplish that was with the treasure he was beginning to despise the very sight of.
If Bilbo was ignorant he probably would have taken the Arkenstone as a bargaining chip just by the way Thorin held it and the loving/possessive look he used to gaze on it. But armed with the knowledge of what the stone represented to Thorin and all of dwarrow kind. Bilbo knew if he betrayed the King Under the Mountain in that way, his life would be forfeit. No he needed something just as impressive to sway the elves and men onto their side, but wouldn’t cause his death.
Luckily, the treasury was not lacking impressive works of wealth. Also with the size of the room, it was easy to work around the thirteen dwarrows that lounged on the gold looking like smaller hairer versions of Smaug.
Opening the small chest he found a beautiful necklace that seem to shine with the light of the stars. For a moment Bilbo forgot about his hated of treasure as he dipped his hand into the jewels and let them slowly slip through his fingers. The jewels seemed warm to the touch and Bilbo believed for a moment he truly did have star light slipping through his hands. When the last jewel slipped through, Bilbo decided that this would be perfect for Thranduil. Bilbo knew that all elves had a special love for stars, and these jewels were like tiny stars themselves.
As he closed the lid, his eyes caught an inscription on the inside of the chests lid in Sindirian.
To my eternal love Thranduil. My love for you will shine forever as the light of the stars.
Bilbo realized that these jewels actually belonged to Thranduil, given to him by his wife. But why would the dwarrows have them to begin with? Bilbo wished he could have gone and asked Balin about them. But even the kind elderly dwarrows was under the thrall of the gold, but unlike the others he seemed to realize at times what was happening. Yesterday he had looked at Bilbo with sad eyes and whispered.
“I’m so sorry my lad” before his eyes were once again replaced with a slightly glazed look as his attention was turned back to the gold.
This caused Bilbo to hope that it was possible to break out of the gold sickness. But he needed Gandalf for that. The hobbit would give this whole treasury of gold if the Wizard was here beside him and telling him what he needed to do to get his family back. Just thinking these thoughts caused a few tears to run down his face. He could only pray to the Green Lady that the Wizard knew how to break the spell of the gold.
Rubbing the tears away with his dirty blue coat sleeve, Bilbo focused back on the task on hand. He had something to give to Thranduil, now he needed something for the men.
After two hours of searching, Bilbo had a sizable pile of treasure that he was confident that it would be enough to allow his words to just be heard. Putting his load into an empty canvas bag that once contained food, Bilbo snuck out of the treasury.
The sun had set early and twilight was falling over the mountain and with it the temperature. It wouldn’t be long until snow would begin to fall. Bilbo pulled the coat tighter around him and tried to ignore the rumbling of his stomach. Bilbo hoped that before he came back to Erebor that maybe Gandalf would be willing to give him some supplies. The dwarrows might be too distracted by the gold at the moment but Bilbo knew they had to be as hungry as he was.
Slowly peaking around a stone column, Bilbo was relieved to see it was Bombur on watch and not Dwalin. Even deep in the gold sickness, Dwalin was still a wary dwarrow and Bilbo knew it would have been difficult to get the dwarf to go back inside. But the hobbit would have no such problem with Bombur who would be more than willing to trade places.
The cook hardly looked up when Bilbo approached him, so focused on the gold ladle he had cradled in his hand. He only looked up when Bilbo loudly cleared his throat and clapped his hands.
“I’ve got the watch Bombur, why don’t you go back inside” suggested Bilbo forcing a smile on his face as he looked at the cook.
“Thank-you Bilbo,” answered Bombur eyes turning back to the ladle as he stood up and without a second glance the large cook went back into the mountain. Bilbo silently following him until he was certain Bombur was heading back down towards the treasury. With all the dwarrows in the treasury, Bilbo would be free to sneak down the mountain and make his way to the elves and men’s camp in Dale without detection, however slight the chances would be.
As soon as Bilbo was certain that it was safe, he quickly fetched the length of rope he had hidden earlier that day when it had been his turn on watch and casted it over the wall, happy to see that it was long enough to reach the ground. He then wasted no time getting his pack and fastening it snuggly on his back.
The hobbit only paused as he climbed on top of the wall with the rope clutched in his hand and looked silently back at the mountain. He knew in doing this that he was betraying Thorin, betraying his family. But all he could see was Kili and Fili’s happy face as they described their mother and how exited they were for Bilbo to meet them, same with Glion and Bombur with their wives and children. Of all the things the Company promised him once Erebor was home to the Longbeards again. None of that would ever happen if Bilbo didn’t do this. That those families who expected their men to find a home would find nothing but graves instead. If Bilbo had to betray the Company in order to protect their families from so much grief so be it, even if a small part of him died knowing that he would never be trusted by any who claimed him as family ever again.
“Please forgive me” whispered Bilbo to the mountain as he slowly began to make his descent down the side of the mountain.
Chapter 24: Traitor
Chapter Text
If someone told Bilbo a year ago that he would willingly scale down a side of a mountain with only a rope keeping him from dying, he would have laughed in their face and then shut his front door. It was just another sign of how much this adventure had changed him, that he thought nothing of unrespectable this behavior would be considered, nor how dangerous it actually was.
In fact falling to his death was the last thing on his mind as he scaled down, his mind was still full of wondering if this was the correct course of plan. But then he would reminded himself that this was the only choice left. He had tried everything to snap his friends out, but Smaug’s had the last laugh as his curse pulled the dwarrows further under its spell.
Once Bilbo reached the bottom, he took a moment to adjust the pack he had on his back. He was struck of another reason why one shouldn’t care so much about gold and gems, they were heavy to carry. Already he wished to do nothing more than throw the pack into the River Running, but the hobbit knew that treasure would be the only thing to stop the big folk from throwing him out of their camp.
So it was with a heavy heart that he started off towards the distant ruins of Dale. It took a bit longer than Bilbo thought it would to reach the men’s encampment in the ruins of Dale. He had to stop and catch his breath before daring to enter.
All around men were coming and going, obvious getting ready for war. Bilbo was relieved to see none of the children and women who survived Laketown to be anywhere. They had already lived through such horrors of the dragon, they didn’t also need to see what war looked like.
The further he got into Dale the more he had to stick to the shadows, though Bilbo doubted anybody would pay attention if he walked right under their noses. It was always easy to sneak past the big folk. They were always concerned of looking up that many of them forgot to also look down. It also helped that he was a hobbit and therefore light on his feet, even a hurt hungry hobbit was silent.
It wasn’t until he had reached the middle of the town’s ruins that he found the tent he was looking for. It was the biggest and was of the finest quality, a tent fit for a King and his war council. Well Bilbo hoped that Bard and Gandalf were in there as well. Bilbo grew cold with the very idea about being alone in Thranduil’s company ever again.
Bilbo took a few moments to study the tent, he wanted to find the best place to enter that would make no noise, just in case Thranduil was alone, or if he guessed wrong he could escape unnoticed.
His perfect opportunity came minutes later as the young elf Legolas exited the tent looking slightly angry. Bilbo darted forward and slid under the fabric before it could totally fall back into place.
Bilbo was relieved to see that Thranduil was not alone in the tent, but the other two people he wanted to talk to were also there as well, along with a single elven gaurd. Bard looked older than he had before the dragon had arrived, and even Gandalf looked older than he had been weeks before. Bilbo could feel the tension in the air, and the hobbit knew that whatever had upset Legolas had also upset the three men as well. So much that none of them notice Bilbo standing in their presence.
Bilbo cleared his throat making all three of them jump and turn to look at him.
“Bilbo Baggins” smiled Gandalf getting out of his chair to kneel in front of the hobbit, “It does my old eyes wonder to see you my boy.”
Bilbo chuckled softly, “I wish it was under better circumstances Gandalf.”
“I do to my boy” returned Gandalf regaining his grim expression. “What brings you from the Mountain Bilbo?”
“We are not ignorant of the coming threat Gandalf; the ravens have been coming back with news of the Orc army for days now. They will reach us before Dain’s army will arrive” Bilbo said solemnly. “In order to survive the coming army Dwarrows, Men, and Elves need to band together if we all wish to survive.”
Bilbo took a deep breath, “1/14 of the treasure of Erebor is mine, it is yours to split between the elves and men if you ally yourselves with the dwarrows of Erebor and the Ironhills” said Bilbo looking at Thranduil and Bard.
Bard gazed at the Halfling feeling sorry for the small thing, if Gandalf was right in his suspicion than the Line of Durin had fallen into gold sickness and the hobbit was making a gamble to save their lives hanging the consequences, but he wasn’t going to be fooled again. Oh he had no doubt the hobbit would try to keep his word, but his contract was with the dwarves and they had already showed their true colors to the man.
“Your King has already gone back on his word, why should we trust yours?” he asked, his voice hard as he thought of all the dead of Laketown who believed when the dwarrows left for the mountain their lives would get better. “You gave your word to the Men of the Lake that Oakenshield word was to be trusted. No I will not let the people be fooled with false promises again.”
Bilbo flinched slightly before lifting his pack and let the riches he packed spill over the table. He made sure that the majority was in place of Bard as he grabbed the chest and placed it in front of the elven king, but kept his hand over top of the lid, not opening it for the time being. “When I signed on for this adventure I was promised 1/14 of the treasure, this is just a handful of my share. I hope you will accept it with the promise that if you will fight with us you can claim the rest. I will do everything in my power after all of this to make sure that this time, my word is honored.”
Bilbo turned his full attention to the elven king, his gaze cool. “If it was necessary Thranduil I would follow Thorin’s example and not deal with you at all. The way you treated not only me but the dwarrows was a disgrace. We were all weak, starving, and exhausted. You were cruel, cruel like you always accuse the dwarrows of being, and you showed how much of a disgrace you were to the fair folk with your actions. I will never forget how you treated me like an animal because you thought you could exploit me for your own purpose” said Bilbo staring into Thranduil’s eyes the entire time refusing to drop his gaze.
Bilbo felt a little bit of satisfaction as the elven king had the decency to slightly lower his gaze before the end of his little speech. It made Bilbo realize his point was getting across, and perhaps Thranduil will think of his mistakes.
“However, I am not a fool to realize that we will not need you and your Army to survive the coming days. What I offer you is something that is precious to you” with that Bilbo opened the small chest.
Thranduil could barely breath as he reached out and touched the gems that he had sought for so long. Besides his son, this was the last gift his wife had given to him before she fell. They were beyond precious just like his son. Looking at the hobbit he was suddenly felt ashamed at how he had treated the creature. Though to anyone who was watching, Thranduil’s expression had yet to change from the slightly bored expression he often wore.
Shutting the lid to the chest, he turned to look at the hobbit who had been waiting patiently for an answer. “Master Baggins, the elves of Mirkwood will ally themselves with the dwarrows. After the battle we will collect what we are due.”
Bilbo nodded and turned to Bard who was staring at the treasure and then at Bilbo. “I must speak to the people of Laketown, but I imagine that once they understand what is happening than we will stand with the elves and dwarrows. Like you Master Bilbo, we men realize if we are to survive the army of Orcs we will need to fight. I would rather just be fighting Orcs, than Orcs and dwarrows.”
Bilbo smiled, “Maybe there is hope for big folk yet.”
“Perhaps we just needed to be showed the way by hobbits” smiled Bard.
“Perhaps, now I wish you all a good-night” said Bilbo, turning to exit but was stopped by Gandalf.
“Bilbo if you go back you will have to face Thorin’s wrath. No matter if you had the right to do what you did he will see this treaty as a betrayal. Stay here” implored Gandalf reaching out to grip Bilbo’s shoulder.
Bilbo smiled sadly, “I’m sorry Gandalf, but I have to go back. I cannot abandon the Company, my family when they need me the most.”
Gandalf only shook his head, “For a dwarf under the spell of gold, there is no family or friends. Nothing matters for them except gold. Dwarrows under it spell can do unspeakable crimes that they would never dare to do when in their right minds.”
Bilbo shook his head and gently removed the hand on his shoulder and simple held it as he looked up at his oldest friend. “My dwarrows are still in there I know it. I’ve seen glimpses of them, they are not all the way gone. I have to try to snap them out of it Gandalf.”
Bilbo had a feeling that Gandalf wasn’t going to let him go, no matter what he said. He could also see looks on Bard and Thranduil’s faces. They agreed with Gandalf, he could see Thranduil making slight hand movement to his single guard that had been standing behind the King this whole time.
Bilbo wanted to sigh; it looked like he was going to have to run out of here. It was a good thing that this quest had provided so many obstacles that he was well practiced in the art of running away. Bilbo made his move when the elven guard tried to sneakily make his way behind Bilbo.
Bilbo dropped Gandalf’s hand and bolted slipping into the shadows once he cleared the tents opening.
“Send out the guards, we can let him get back to the mountain!” Bilbo heard Gandalf yell behind him.
It was slightly harder to slip through the men and elves now that they were actively hunting him. Plus the ground from Dale to Erebor was full of open ground that their horses could cover. It was like a high stakes game of hide and seek.
Bilbo barely had time to lay down in a small gully as Bard trotted only a few feet away on his horse. It wasn’t the only close call he had on the way back to Erebor. In fact Bilbo had to tie the end of the rope around him to stop Legolas from crawling up after him.
The Green Lady was on his side, nobody had come to relieve him of watch. If they had they would have had a birds eye view of the whole chase from Dale. It was another sign how far the Company had fallen into Goldsickness. During the Quest the watch was changed every two hours, Bilbo had been gone almost three hours total. Yet there was no sign of anyone on the battlements.
Bilbo couldn’t bring himself to enter the mountain, to be confronted with the gold sickness, not after what he had did. Bilbo stayed outside despite the cold, and watched the sun come up slowly from the east, gently playing with the ends of his family braids. Only then did he enter the mountain going straight to the treasury, because there was no doubt that the Company would be anywhere else.
Sure enough he found thirteen dwarrows sleeping on various piles of gold.
Bilbo carefully made his way over to Balin and began to shake his shoulder. Bilbo had found that in the morning while sleep still hung over his mind was the best chance he had of talking to the real Balin.
“Balin, Balin” he whispered. It took a few tries before he managed to rouse the dwarf enough.
“Morning Bilbo” yawned Balin. Bilbo wanted to sigh in relief, this was the real Balin.
“Balin, the Bard and the elves are going to be soon” Bilbo said softly. “They’re going to come offering an alliance.”
This seemed to wake Balin up. “Thorin will need to know.”
Bilbo was relieved that Balin didn’t ask how the hobbit knew this information, so focused was the dwarf in getting Thorin up and addressed of the situation. Bilbo sat quietly as he watched the scene unfold, as expected Thorin’s loud roars woke up the rest of the Company and hearing that the elves and men were heading this way once again they all got up and began to prepare.
During the five days that they had spent inside the mountain, the armory had been found back in the early days before the gold sickness had fully set in. Everybody in the Company, even little Ori had picked out a set of armor. They were all now scrambling to get it on.
“We must all prepare, for this is surely a trap, they are after the gold” said Gloin as he picked up his ax, his eyes landed on the motionless Bilbo. “Brother why do you not prepare?”
Bilbo blinked when suddenly for the first time in a week they were all looking at him. “Bilbo as the smallest you are the most vulnerable” called out Dori.
“Uncle Bilbo we need to get you to the armory!” cried out Kili and Fili, rushing forward to grab him by the hands. Bilbo quickly held his hands up to stop them.
“We went through this once” Bilbo said slowly, because this was almost the word for word conversation that happened a few days ago. “All that armor is too big and too heavy for me to use.”
“Be that as it may Bilbo, you should have told us before the eve of battle” said Thorin gravely.
Bilbo fought the urge to yank at his hair, he had said this, it had been discussed. “I’m sorry” was all he could say.
“As you should be, but I have a solution” said Thorin with a slight smile. Thorin disappeared into the piles of gold and returned with something silvery in his hands. The Company fell silent as Thorin held up what he had retrieved. It appeared to be a shirt of mail in some whitish metal.
“I came upon this, it’s called mithril Bilbo. It is as strong as a dragon scale, yet astonishingly light” said Thorin, motioning for Bilbo to grab it.
Though Thorin had said that it was light, Bilbo was still surprised on how light it was when he took it for Thorin. It appeared to be the right size for Bilbo, almost as if it was made for him. Holding it up to himself it reached his mid-thigh.
“Thorin, I can’t accept this” he said, it was too much. “I’m just a simple Hobbit.”
Thorin shook his head, “You are our kin Bilbo. It will relieve all of our minds if you took it.”
Bilbo bit his lip but then nodded, he removed his coat and his outer shirt. Then with the help of Thorin he slipped it over his head. Though the chain mail draped over him like a dress, Bilbo found that it was easy to move in and sat lightly on his shoulder. Looking through his bangs, Bilbo could see that the whole Company was looking at him with a smile. Bilbo knew then that these were his dwarrows once again. He opened his mouth to say something when Nori came racing out of the side hallway.
“Thorin! The elves and men are here!”
Bilbo could see the effect those words had on the Company, the clear look and smiles melted away. They were replaced by the cloudy eyes as they looked at the gold, as if making sure that it hadn’t disappeared.
Then they were gone, heading towards the battlements.
If Bilbo had anything in his stomach, he might have thrown it up. They had been so close, his dwarrows had been right there and then they were gone. He might have been able to talk to them, told them what he had done, made them see why it was the right choice. Now it was too late.
Bilbo slowly put on his outer shirt and then his coat before he made his way to the battlements.
It seemed that he had missed the beginning arguments, he only caught the tail end of what Thranduil was saying. “- already been paid for.”
Bilbo snuck a glance down below and wanted to beat his head against the stones as Thranduil was showing off the chest of star jewels.
“How did you come by those!” demanded Thorin his eyes staring at the star jewels.
“They were given in good faith in return for an alliance between our peoples to survive the upcoming battle” said Thranduil.
Thorin barely heard this, he could only see the jewels that belonged to him, and the only way the elf could have come by them was if he stole them out of his very mountain.
“Thief!” he bellowed, “How dare you slink into these halls to steal the treasure of my forefathers!”
Thorin was going to say more when he felt something yanking on his coat sleeve. He briefly turned from the enemies at his gate to look, surprised to find Bilbo looking smaller than ever.
“They didn’t steal them Thorin, I gave them to him.”
“You did what” Thorin said slowly.
“I gave those stones to Thranduil and some gold to Bard. I promised them my fourteenth in exchange for their alliance.”
Thorin was quiet as he tried to come to terms with what Bi-, what the Halfling told him. Without any warning Thorin grabbed Bilbo and dragged him back towards the treasure room, ignoring the calls of him to stop coming from the ground.
Bilbo tried to keep up with Thorin as he marched them back down, but there were a few times where he was dragged a few feet because he lost his footing. Bilbo didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything.
Thorin didn’t stop until they were in the treasure room, surrounded by gold once again, only then did Thorin round on Bilbo.
“You betrayed us!” thundered Thorin shaking the poor hobbit. “Conspiring to give away dwarven gold to our enemies!”
“I was trying to save your lives!” pleaded Bilbo as he grabbed at Thorin coat. “The ravens have come to you about the size of the Orc army. Even with Dain, the mountain will be lost! Please the alliance with the men and elves is the only way we will survive!”
Thorin glared at Bilbo, dropping him from his grip. “Lies, it is all lies. Let the orcs come, this mountain will endure. But I will not part one single coin to those river rats and tree shaggers. You made your bed with them, and now you will live with that.”
With that Thorin pulled a dagger from his belt. The dwarf king grabbed Bilbo, with the dagger still in his hand.
Bilbo’s mind flashed back to Goblin Town when the King had grabbed him and carved into his check. Bilbo struggled and kicked out to try to get Thorin to let him go but the King held firm and shook him again until Bilbo’s grew dizzy and stopped struggling as much. As he tried to straighten his world as he felt a tugging sensation on one side of his head and then the other before he suddenly found himself thrown to the ground.
Bilbo scrambled to his feet as quick as he could, swaying on the spot as he turned towards Thorin and the rest of his family that was grouped behind the King. But the faces that were looking at him were not his family, these were strangers that looked at him with anger and hate in their gazes. Even Ori, Kili, and Fili were looking at him with contempt.
Gandalf had been right, oh he had been right. Looking at Thorin, he felt sick as he realized that clutched in Thorin’s hands were his braids. The dwarf King sneered at the hobbit and walked over to the fire that had been made to warm the sleeping area.
Bilbo could only watch as Thorin threw his braids, bead and all into the fire. And just like that he was an orphan once more without family. It was as if a great hole was ripped into his chest, and Bilbo only felt hollow. Turning, he looked at the united front the Company had made behind Thorin. The King Under the Mountain just gazed coolly at him, his anger seemed to have frozen into an icy calm and that was even more terrifying that his anger.
“Begone traitor and know no friendship of the dwarrows go with you. I banish you from Erebor on pain of death if you dare to return” announced Thorin.
Tears began to well up in his eyes. “I’m sorry” he whispered before turning and fleeing the room from the last time.
Bilbo knew that if he went back towards the main gate he would meet with the elves and men. At the moment, the hobbit wanted none to see him like this.
Bilbo felt no shame as he walked down the tunnel that only a few days ago he had used to riddle with a dragon. He felt though that his heart would never heal from this hurt. Bilbo wished he could say that if the goldsickness ever left the Company they would see why he did it, but he didn’t know.
Bilbo was glad that he was still able to open the secret door from the inside. The air was cool as Bilbo stepped onto the ledge after making sure that the secret door was closed behind him. Already frost lay on the ground, and Bilbo’s breath looked like smoke as he sighed. Winter was on it’s way, and it wouldn’t be long before Bilbo’s chance of leaving was completely gone.
The sun was hidden from sight by clouds. In the shadow of the mountain it was like night. Even though the sun had risen a few short hours ago, it wouldn’t be long until the day ended. The days were so short here in the North.
Bilbo knew he would have to start his way down the staircase or else he would be stuck on the ledge until the next day. He had no desire to try to go down the mountain in the dark. But a part of him wanted to wait, hoping that one of his dwarrows would come running after him, to say they were sorry.
In fact when Bilbo heard a sound behind him, he half turned with a hopeful look on his face. It quickly morphed to horror as a group of orcs scaled down from the far side of the mountain. Bilbo tried to react but the Orcs were too quick. Instead of immediately killing him, the largest one backhanded Bilbo across the face with enough force to stun him.
The hobbit didn’t offer any resistance when he was thrown over an Orc’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Again if Bilbo had anything left in his stomach, he would have thrown up at the smell of the orc. The stench made his head spin, and then the orcs began to climb. Bilbo didn’t dare move as the Orcs scaled down the mountainside.
But once he was certain they were on the ground. Bilbo began to struggle trying to escape. His attempts seemed to anger the orc and Bilbo found himself thrown to the ground. Bilbo finally managed to get his wits about to start yelling for help.
A gag was shoved in his mouth and his arms were wretched back and his hands were harshly tied behind his back. Any idea of escaping flew out of Bilbo’s head when a noose was slipped over his head and tightened around his neck.
Bilbo chocked slightly, which the Orc laughed quietly. The one holding his leash jerked it painfully making Bilbo choke further.
The biggest Orc of the five said something in black speech and had the others get serious. One went and grabbed Bilbo by the hair and pulled him painfully to his feet. It was with dawning horror that Bilbo realized that they were heading out, and they were taking Bilbo with them.
The one holding his leash began to walk, making the rope tighten again painfully. The hobbit had to practically run to stop from being strangled as the Orc scouts hurried away from the base of the mountain.
As he was dragged away he imagined he heard someone in the distance calling his name.
Chapter 25: Waking Up
Summary:
Thorin and Company realize what they have done and we catch up with Bilbo.
Chapter Text
The smell of burning hair invaded Thorin’s senses, he shook it trying to clear it.
The image of Bilbo cowering on the ground invaded his mind. ‘He has proven himself over and over during this quest and I'm claiming him as kin to repay him for his sacrifices and so that he will have family and not be alone again,” echoed in his head. More images flashed through his head, of sick Bilbo, happy Bilbo, fussy Bilbo, and the images of Bilbo interacting with the Company.
The crown slipped from Thorin’s head and fell slowly to the ground with a clang
The sound echoed in the chamber and Thorin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, shuddering as if a bucket of ice water was poured over him. When he opened them, it seemed as if a curtain had been pulled back everything seemed clearer and the gold did not hold the same luster that it once did.
“What have I done?” whispered Thorin breaking the spell of goldsickness from his mind. He scrambled forward and reached inside the burning torch and pulled out the remains of Bilbo’s braids. The hair was mostly burned away, what was left turned to ash in his hands leaving the golden beads.
Thorin looked at the beads in his hand, the fire had damaged them slightly. The worst was where the symbols of the dwarrows family lines, the fire had been hot enough that the gold had begun to melt, blurring the names. It was if it was a sign from the Maker, a sign of a broken promise.
Thorin fell to his knees, grasping the hot metal in his hand as he repeated his earlier question. “What have I done?”
“Dragon sickness” spoke up Balin quietly, looking as pale as death, “It affected all of us.”
All around the Company were shaking their heads and rubbing their eyes, looking as if they had just awoken from a deep sleep. Except unlike waking up from a nightmare, the horror followed them into the waking world as they realized what they had just done.
Kili seemed to come to his senses first it if could be believed. “Uncle Bilbo!” he yelled and took off towards the secret door. Fili was only steps behind his younger brother.
As they ran down the tunnel, they couldn’t believe that they hadn’t stopped Thorin from doing what they did to Uncle Bilbo. To have just sit by and watch as Uncle Thorin had cut off Bilbo’s braids and thrown them into the fire, disowning him and banishing him all in the same process. Worst was at the time they had approved of their Uncle’s actions, worst they had believed Bilbo was getting off easy.
Their sweet little hobbit, the brothers had been so full of hate at the moment when they realized he had bargained with the elves and men. Now all they felt was horror that they had felt that way. Horror that they had allowed a piece of metal to control their actions so that they had turned their back on family! When Thorin had adopted Bilbo, it had been a promise that the hobbit would never be alone again. The dwarrows would never turn their back on him, and he would be welcomed. Yet they had broken all those promise in a matter of minutes.
The boys were suddenly glad their mother was not there, for Dis would be so ashamed of them. Both would shave their beards and present them to Bilbo, if that was what it took to show the hobbit the depth of their shame and guilt. Only then would they beg the hobbit for forgiveness.
The tunnel seemed longer than ever but finally they came to the door. They burst through the door, not stopping or slowing down. They only stopped when their toes dangled into the open air, with their eyes scanning the darkened landspace for any sign of movement. But the land was still, nothing moved and the sound of bugs was absent. Even with his archer eyes Kili could see nothing. Yet it didn’t stop Kili from trying something.
“Bilbo!” he yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth so that the sound would carry further. “Cousin Bilbo!”
The sound of his voice echoed in the cool crisp air, but not matter how hard they strained they heard no answering call.
“Where could he have gone Fee?” whispered Kili. Fear had settled into his stomach like a rock. Bilbo should have answered, at least the young dwarf hoped he would answer.
“I don’t know Kee, he couldn’t have gotten far. Come on,” urged Fili starting down the staircase. They ran like Smaug was on their heels down the stairs. Calling for Bilbo with every other breath.
Each step they took, they hoped their hobbit would answer, that Bilbo would be only a few steps ahead of them. But their search was in vain. When they reached the bottom, there was no sign that Bilbo had come that way. The only tracks they could find lead to the mountain, the tracks they made coming from Laketown.
“Where are you Bilbo?” whispered Fili.
There was no answer for his question though. Even though neither Fili and Kili wanted to give up, but there was nothing to be found. Bilbo had just vanished. With a heavy heart they began the journey to up the steps.
-o0o0o000o0-
Thorin paced back and forth like a caged animal in the area the Company had claimed for sleeping so long ago.
If it wasn’t for the steady presence of the Company around him, Thorin would have disappeared into the bowels of the Erebor and never surfaced again. Thorin had sworn to himself that he would never fall prey to the same weakness his Grandfather did. When he had thought of reclaiming Erebor, it was for the safety and the security of the mountain that drove him, not the treasure that lay within it.
Yet in a matter of days he had forgotten all of that. He had let his eyes cloud over with the beauty of the gold.
In his madness he would have killed the member of the Company and left Dain’s men to suffer. For a battle was coming to the doors of Erebor herself, and in that state of mind Thorin would not have opened the doors to even let his kin take refuge. Erebor would have become a tomb once more. For the Company would not have lasted many more days. All their food was gone and very little water remained in their packs. Any food that had been left in Erebor the day the dragon came would have gone bad long ago and Thorin did not know if the natural springs were contaminated from Smaug or not. And he had not cared to find out. So many days he had wasted just staring at the treasure. Counting it and even sleeping on it.
The only person in the Company who was concern had been Bilbo. Bilbo who had never really ever recovered from Goblin Town. Bilbo who had begged each and every one of them to snap out of the dragon sickness only to be ignored and pushed to the side.
Oh Thorin could see now what finally drove Bilbo to climb over the wall and go to the men and elves. He could see it all so clearly.
Kili and Fili had ran after Bilbo so long ago, too long. Thorin knew he was not the only one thinking that it had been too long. Bifur had left not to long after them, signing that he would be waiting at the door to let them back in.
No one objected, they could see the strain on Bifur’s face. The dwarf was taking it badly. Bifur had been Bilbo’s protector since Goblin town and the failure today was too much for him. Silence had descended once the hurt dwarf left. Most of the Company were still trying to comprehend what they had done while under the gold sickness.
“The Lads are probably trying to smooth things over,” assured Balian after a while. Even though he felt the same uneasy feeling the rest of the Company did. Fili and Kili had been gone for too long.
What if Bilbo wanted nothing to do with them? What if he never forgave them for their actions?
Unknown to Bilbo, a plan had been hatched among the Company to build Bilbo his own hobbit hole in the mountain, as close as they could remember of Bag End. The idea had come around in Laketown, and Ori had been asked to draw some sketches out. Fili had mentioned sending a letter to Dis to pick up Bilbo belongings when the caravans started to come from the Blue Mountains.
But now the dwarrows feared that it might never happen.
Finally the sounds of footsteps could be heard, and even Thorin stopped his mad pacing to watch the doorway with rising hope. Hopes that was dashed at the sight of Fili’s grieved face coming through the doorway followed by Kili and Bifur. The dearly missed hobbit was not with them.
“We tried Uncle, but we could find no trace of Bilbo anywhere,” whispered Fili, though the whole Company could hear him in the silence. “We went to the very bottom of the stairs and found only the tracks we made coming to the mountain.”
Shock ran through the Company, “Where could he be?” asked Ori softly, fingers twisting in his sweater.
But none could provide an answer to the young dwarf. However that didn’t stop Bofur, Nori, and Bifur from standing up and heading down the direction that the young Princes had just returned from.
Nori hoped that perhaps he could find the spot where Bilbo might be hiding. As a seasoned thief he was an expert at finding places to hide from those who wanted to harm him. It could be possible that Bilbo had been hiding from the Princes because he thought he was still in danger. The thief was grateful for the presence of Bofur and Bifur. The two dwarrows had experience in finding seams in rocks with their skills as miners. It was possible that Bilbo slipped down a seam instead of actually going out the secret door.
Thorin didn’t try to call the three back, as he rubbed a hand over his face suddenly feeling his age.
“Balin, Dwalin,” he said quietly, “We are going to go over the wall. Perhaps Gandalf spirited Bilbo away, perhaps we can still make an alliance with the men and elves so we can survive this orc invasion. We owe Bilbo that much.”
“What do you want us to do Uncle while you are gone?” asked Fili.
Thorin sighed, “Gather all the chainmail and armor you can find to fit everyone in the Company, and any we can spare for the men. Mahal knows they probably have nothing to protect themselves with. Try…try to stay out of the treasury.”
“Oh you don’t have to worry about us going into the treasury,” Kili said immediately.
“I will make sure the young ones stay out of the treasury,” assured Dori. “All fo-three of them.”
Dori winced at his mistake. These past few months Bilbo had been included in that number of the young members of the Company.
“I’ll see about getting one of the forges running, if the lads would bring any weapons you find I’ll see about getting a decent edge on them,” Gloin muttered.
“I’ll see if I can get to the old Halls of Healing. The medicine might be outdated, but there should be a supply of bandages and things,” said Oin.
Bombur spoke up last, “I will see if there is anything to forage around here.”
Thorin nodded, before leading Dwalin and Balian to the wall and found a rope that Bilbo most likely used to make his escape the night before. The crowd that had been there before had dissipated during the hours they spent inside the mountain.
But it was not difficult to see that had retreated back to Dale. The sun was beginning to set and the fires could be seen scattered around the town. Thorin took off in a light jog heading towards Dale.
They slowed when they reached the outskirts and were surprised to find Gandalf standing in the middle of the main road leading to Dale. Thorin had never seen the old man look so intimidating. He towered over the dwarrows, the shadows bending and twisting around them. And his eyes, his eyes were as cold as the coldest Northern wind.
“Your Majesty,” he said. His voice as soft as a dagger as it plunges into a person’s back. “What a surprise.”
“Gandalf,” Thorin said quietly not looking the wizard in the eyes. “I have come to see if the chance of alliance was still possible for I am willing to listen.”
“Thorin Oakenshield,” sighed Gandalf seeming to shrink before their eyes into the old man he appeared to be. “It is good to see you as yourself again Old Friend.”
Thorin bowed his head, “I fear I was not strong enough to fight the curse that plagued my family. For now my sanity has returned and I wish to make amends,” murmured Thorin, before raising his head to finally meet Gandalf’s eyes. “But I first must now, is Bilbo here with you?”
Gandalf looked at Thorin in shock, “You mean he is not with you?”
Thorin shook his head, a hot flame of fear rising within him. “I…I banished him and disowned him on pain of death if he would ever return. He left by the way of the hidden door. It was the act that finally drew me and the rest of the Company out of the gold sickness. My nephews immediately went out after him, but they could find no trace of him.”
Gandalf seemed to crumple more, leaning his weight on his staff. “This is grave news. I have not seen Bilbo since you dragged him into the mountain.”
“This is bad tidings,” said Balian. “Bilbo is smart, he would have made his way here after he was banished.”
“He didn’t even have a weapon,” murmured Dwalin.
“Come, we must discuss this with Bard and Thranduil. Be warned Thorin, they most likely will not welcome your presence.”
That was an understatement…
Meanwhile miles and miles away
Bilbo was thrown down on his knees in front of the whole camp, the Orcs and Goblins crying out for blood of the victim.
Bilbo was terrified as he shuddered to regain his breath. His whole frame was shaking from exhaustion and shivers from fear as from out of the shadows Azog the Defiler appeared.
The whole camp fell silent as the pale Orc strode over to where Bilbo had been forced to kneel, his hands still bound tightly behind him. Bilbo hunched into himself, trying to make himself smaller than his small stature was. But he could not escape the cold pale eyes that gazed down at him.
One of his Generals took the opportunity to yank the creature’s head up and recognition lit up Azog’s eyes as his he gazed on the face of the one that had stolen his prey away at the Misty Mountains.
“The dwarrow’s pet” he murmured, bringing his hand to rest on the copper curls relishing how the creature trembled with fear beneath him. The goblins in his rank hissed and surged forward catching sight of the brand before they were pushed back by the Orc Generals.
“The Took belongs to us” they cried.
“He killed our King!” yelled a goblin. Azog dropped his hand off of the pet’s head and turned to face the troops. He couldn’t afford to fail his Master by having his Army fighting each other instead of the dwarf scum. As much as he would love to play with the Oakenshield’s pet he would give it up to appease his troops.
“And you may do with him as you wish, but not until Oakenshield’s head is mounted on a pike and his sister-sons are made game for my Generals desires. The dwarfs pet will be your reward” assured Azog. “But until that time he is not to be touched!” He said growling, sending chills down those who heard him.
Bilbo watched the whole exchange with fear in his heart, he knew that at any second that he was going to be thrown to the goblins for them to finish what they had started down in Goblin Town. But he was surprised instead when instead of being thrown to the Goblins the Orcs dragged him to a nearby tree. A rope was thrown over a tree branch. For a brief moment, Bilbo thought they were going to hang him.
But instead the rope tying his hands together was cut and his hand yanked forward. Understanding grew into horror as the new rope was tied securely around his wrists before being hauled up. Bilbo couldn’t help the small sound cry of pain that escaped him as his shoulders were wretched upwards.
The orcs and goblins jeered at him for the sound as they watched in delight as Bilbo was left hanging in the air, his tips of his toes barely able to brush the ground. The goblins nearest to him spat at him, but came no closer to him.
In fact Bilbo was largely ignored as the Army prepared for war.
Bilbo was left to suffer in silence.
Chapter 26: Orcs and Rocks
Notes:
Because I am evil, Bilbo torture. Shout out to CoffeeRanger on FanFiction who helped fed the angst beast.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
By the second hour of hanging there, Bilbo had lost all feeling in his arms and hands. But what he hadn’t lost was the attention of the goblins around him. After the order the orcs seemed contention ignoring him. However the goblin’s never stopped looking over at Bilbo.
Bilbo could only wonder how long it took before a goblin was foolish enough to disobey the order Azog had given. As it happened he didn’t have to wait long.
A group of goblins who had been eyeing him the entire time seemed to have worked up their courage. They made a show of lighting a torch and slowly approaching Bilbo.
Bilbo tried to push away from the Goblins and their torch. But only succeeded on wiggling around like a worm on a hook. He was unable to get any momentum and every pull caused a sharp pain to race up his arms and his numbed hands.
One of them was bold enough to grab his flaying feet and hold them towards the torch. Bilbo let out a shriek as his thick soles grew hot
Suddenly the torch was gone and Azog’s white warg was snapping a goblin in half with her sharp jaws.
Bilbo whimpered as black blood splattered on his face, a sound no one heard over the goblin shrieks and the warg’s attack. It took only a few moments for the warg to kill the offending parties and when silence remained, Azog stepped forth from the shadows.
“My orders were for the dwarrows pet not to be touched,” growled Azog loud enough to carry into the camp. “The next ones to disobey my orders will find that being a meal for my dear mount will be a kinder death.”
The emphasize this point his warg growled menacingly, making the ranks shrink back from the orc leader and the warg.
Satisfied that he was once again in control, Azog turned his back to goblins and focused all his attention on Bilbo.
Bilbo didn’t know what was worse, the goblins as Azog. Bilbo wished at this moment one of his dwarrows were here to help him. Apart of him whispered that even though he was banished, his dwarrows wouldn’t leave him to Azog’s mercy. But the other part of him whispered that the dwarrows would think this was a suiting punishment for a traitor and a thief.
“What an odd creature, Oakenshield’s pet,” murmured Azog. Studying the creature closely for the first time. Noticing the elf like ears and large hairy feet. Azong had never seen such a creature before, had never played with such a creature. This would be the only chance he might have. It was his right, the goblins had disobeyed his orders. He had the right to play with their prize.
He cut the rope holding the creature suspended. Bilbo managed to remain on his feet, though it was a near thing and it also didn’t last long. Azog grabbed him by his hair and began to drag him through the camp. Bilbo tried to keep on his feet, but he was unable to match the gaint white orcs stride. He lost his footing, and cried out as his hair took the brunt of his weight. It felt as if his curls would be ripped out of his head.
Azog smirked at the sound. When he reached his tent, he pulled back the tent flap with his sword arm and threw Bilbo inside. Bilbo went crashing to the ground, unable to get his still bound hands underneath him in time to catch himself.
Azog sat down on his bed, the only place to sit in the tent and pulled the small creature into his lap. He gasped the creature’s chin in his hand and pulled his head back and forth, studying the brand and curly hair before focusing on the pointed ear that reminded the Orc of an elf’s. He released the creatures chin and traced the small pointed tip.
Bilbo bit back a whimper that threatened to escape as Azog’s sharp claws scrapped along his pointed ear. However Azog’s cold eyes his discomfort and smiled cruelly.
Azog scratched viciously at Bilbo’s sensitive ears, drawling blood and small cries from Bilbo.
Bilbo had been through too much, to put on his mask of silence as he did in Goblin Town. This time he couldn’t stay silent as Azog played with him, chuckling every time Bilbo gave into his pain.
Eventually Azog grew tired of his ears and turned his attention to the other oddity of the creature, the large feet. He didn’t get much of a reaction running his claws over the soles. But Azog caught the clenching of the creature’s body as he touched the fur that rested on top of its feet.
It was a similar reaction Azog got from dwarves when he touched their beards.
Azog leveled his flesh arm over the creatures knees, holding it still as he brought his blade up. The creature tried to squirm away, putting up as much of a fight as the dwarrows did when Azog cut their beards off. And like a dwarrow, the fight left the creature once he had completed cutting off the hair.
Any hopes Bilbo had of ever going back to the Shire was devastated with the cutting off of his foot hair. He was shamed not only according to the dwarf culture but also the hobbit way as well.
Branded, exiled, and finally shorn, had finally taken all the fight out of the hobbit.
Azog laughed as he stood up and dumped the hobbit out of his lap and onto the ground. He might have to rethink his decision of handing the creature over after the upcoming battle. His cries were sweet and delicious to hear. Or perhaps he would keep Oakenshield alive just long enough to watch his pet be torn apart by Goblins.
Reaching down he grabbed the rope tied around the creatures wrist and hauled it back up to the tree when he reconnected the rope to suspend the thing once again.
Bilbo waited until the white orc was walking away before he let his tears fall down his face. For the first time wishing that he never had come on this adventure.
Thorin had to dodge the rock Bard had thrown at his head after he announced the hobbit was now missing.
“How could you do that! You were supposed to protect him!” raged Bard. “He’s barely an adult and you banished him! He was just trying to save you, you stubborn ass!”
Legolas wordlessly passed Bard another rock, which he managed to beam Thorin in the head with.
“As much as I am enjoying this display, we have called this meeting to discuss important business, not about the Halfling,” drawled Thranduil.
The Elf King was not expecting the rock, supplied by his son to Bard again, to hit him also in the forehead.
“He does matter Thranduil. He’s barely older than my eldest, barely an adult and he’s out there alone, weaponless while orcs and goblins draw ever closer to the mountain!” Bard practically yelled, sufficiently cowing everybody in the tent.
“However as much as I hate to say this, he is right,” sighed Bard. “We do not have the time to argue about this. Azog’s army will be here by dawn, and we will not survive if we continue to fight amongst ourselves. We will honor Bilbo’s treaty and work this out.”
Thorin nodded solemnly, “For Bilbo.”
As one the people turned in the tent to face the last member of the alliance. Thranduil stared hard back, but finally he inclined his head slightly. “The other scores will wait until after this ordeal is over with.”
The meeting lasted for hours as the three sides came up with a battle plan, and Thorin was felt his years when he exited the tent at the end of it.
Thorin sighed, wishing he had his pipe as he looked up into the night sky. Many of the constellations had fallen below the horizon. Dawn was only a few short hours away. In a few hours many of the elves and men will be dead. Even his Company would probably have a few causalities.
Bilbo…Thorin didn’t even know if the little hobbit was alive or not. It was almost as if he just turned himself invisible.
The tent behind him opened and Bard exited. The two acknowledged each other, Bard dug into his pocket and pulled out a pipe and lit it.
Bard handed the pipe to Thorin, “You look like you need a smoke,” he said gruffly.
Thorin accepted the borrowed pipe and took a long draw from it before handing it back. “I am sorry about Laketown. It was never my intention of reclaiming Erebor at the price of someone elses home.”
It was Bard’s turn to take a long pull from the pipe before answering, “We will survive and rebuild. Our ancestors did it once, and we shall do it again.”
Thorin said nothing for a few minutes, and for a moment Bard thought their conversation over. Then the King began to speak.
“Regaining Erebor was never about the treasure in the mountain. It was a quest to reclaim our homeland. Something no one can understand until they are driven out of the place they call home. I have watched my people suffer. I wanted to bring them a home, so that parents no longer had to watch their children die from the elements. We lost so many of our children those first few decades,” whispered Thorin as he remembered each and every one of them.
“15 children we lost because of the elements, 6 of which had been girls,” confessed Thorin. “15 out of 27. Never in our history have we ever lost so many children in such a short span of time. All because we were too poor to pay for aid, and no place to call home to nurse them back to health. I swore then and there I would reclaim Erebor so my people would never have to know such pain again. Many thought I was mad, and that is why I have only 13 dwarrows and one hobbit in my Company. The bravest and truest hearts I could ask for.”
Thorin sighed as he remembered the peaceful days at Beorns when the Company was probably at its happiest on the quest. Well after Bilbo had recovered enough to join them.
“I prayed I would be spared the gold sickness that ran through my line. And at first I thought I had succeeded. But the sickness is like many others, it creeps onto you, slowly that at first you do not realize that you are sick. It filled my thoughts until nothing else mattered. Not my nephews, not my Company, not even Bilbo who I swore to protect. I nearly brought ruin to everything I hold dear.”
“But you didn’t,” Bard said.
Thorin chuckled with no humor in it. “All thanks to Bilbo, and yet how did I repay him. Throwing him away, banishing him.”
Thorin sighed, everything had already been said on that matter. He would spend the rest of his life apologizing to Bilbo if he survived this upcoming battle, that is as soon as he found the hobbit. “Have your men come to the mountain, a few of the Company has pulled all the armor and weapons they can find.”
Bard bowed his head, “A generous off, and one I will accept. If only a life is saved it will be worth it.”
“I pray Dain arrives before the Orcs do. Come, dawn is not far from breaking.”
Notes:
Hoped you liked!
Chapter 27: The Battle
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The battle had begun soon as the sun had cleared the horizon. The forces of orcs, goblins, elves, dwarrows, and men clashed.
The air was filled with the sound of metal striking against metal, battle shouts, screams and moans of the dying. In small simple words, it was complete chaos.
Legolas had been fighting his way through the battlefield, quickly separating from his Father’s forces. He fought his way towards the mountains where the orcs spilled down from. Azog had yet to make his appearance.
It had been agreed by Gandalf, Thorin, and his Father that once Azog had been dealt with the forces of darkness would scatter. Cut the head off the snake and the body would wither. As loathe as Legolas was to leave the forces battling below him, it made since that one could go where no group could.
That didn’t mean that his sword had not tasted blood. Indeed much of armor was covered in black blood by the time he made his way through the final ranks and up the mountains where the orcs had come.
Azog didn’t seem to think that he needed to place sentries to the camp as Legolas had not encountered a single orc as he ran.
Without having to fight, Legolas soon made it to where it was clear the orc and goblin army had been camped out. The land had been desecrated, what little green had been burned away. Cloth, metal, and other trash had been left behind.
His keen eyes swept over the ground, hoping to see any sign of the white orc. However his eyes froze and widened as he caught sight of the last thing he expected at the Orc Camp.
“Bilbo!” breathed Legolas. In a few short steps he was beside the hanging hobbit. To his relief Bilbo raised his head and looked at him in shock.
“Legolas! What-how?” Bilbo began, only to cry out as Legolas drew his dagger and cutting the rope suspending him. Even though the drop was a small one, Bilbo’s legs gave out from under him. It was only Legolas’s guiding hands that kept him slamming to the ground, and instead gently lowering him instead.
“Are you alright Bilbo, any injuries?” asked Legolas.
Bilbo chuckled mirthlessly, his eyes flickering to his hairless legs. “No more than usual.”
Legolas scanned the hobbit anyway, taking notice of his legs before instead focusing on Bilbo’s colorless hands.
He immediately grabbed them and started to rub them, encouraging the blood to flow once more into them.
“What are you doing here Legolas?” asked Bilbo through clenched teeth as the burning sensation of millions of pins and needles raced through his arms and hands.
“I was searching for the Defiler. If we kill the head of the army, we hope the rest of the scum will scatter into chaos.”
“He left not to long before you arrived,” Bilbo revealed. “He’s hoping to draw the Durins up to Ravenhill where the signal is located. He knows Thorin will come for him.”
“Then I must hurry,” Legolas said immediately. The line of Durin could not be allowed to fall. However he couldn’t leave Bilbo here. Just because the camp seemed empty, didn’t mean that it was. He had already stayed far longer than was wise.
“Hang on Bilbo,” warned Legolas before he reached down and picked up the smaller creature.
Legolas concern and alarm grew as he hoisted Bilbo in his arms. The hobbit weighed even less than he did in the palace. It was nothing for Legolas to carry the hobbit back towards the battlefield.
Bilbo couldn’t believe how loud the battle was the closer they came. He had vaguely heard it at the orc camp, but now the sound seemed to echo all around him. He almost didn’t notice Legolas stopping until he was being lowered to the ground. They were on a ridge overtop of the battlefield.
Legolas quickly unstrapped the elven dagger that he had been carrying. It was the dagger that the hobbit had been forced to leave behind in palace when they escaped. Bilbo looked surprised and happy to see it.
“I must get to Raven Hill, I will return as soon as possible,” promised Legolas before turning and running towards Raven Hill.
Bilbo watched as the Legolas left him to rejoin the battle. Bilbo knew that he was expected to stay where he had been placed but how could he do that? Somewhere out there his family was out there fighting for their lives, it didn’t matter to him that he had been exiled and disowned. He would rather die on the battlefield protecting them than return back to Hobbitton in his disgraced state.
With a deep breath he started down the ridge.
Bilbo’s mind screamed that this was a bad idea as soon as he stepped onto the battlefield. Being shorter than all others made him barely noticeable. However he had to watch to make sure he wasn’t accidently hit by either side.
The battle was absolute carnage, orcs, goblins, elves, men, and dwarrow were clashing together in a deadly dance, were once a partner was stuck down another was ready to fill their place. The sounds of metal striking metal and the screams of the fallen pounded into Bilbo’s head as he forged into the fight. He was soon covered in black and red blood and the shine of Sting nearly invisible as Bilbo sank it guard deep into an orcs stomach before pulling it out drenched in black blood.
Time lost all meaning as he pushed his weak body for another swing, another block, and another duck. It was a deadly dance, and only the adrenaline pumping through his veins kept him on his feet.
As Raven Hill came closer, the more Orcs Legolas was forced to fight. Arrows after arrow sprung from his bow, until he was down to only a handful left.
He was almost to the top when he ran across and unexpected scene. Taurial was in the middle of a small Orc pack and quickly being overwhelmed.
Legolas drew his twin blades and quickly helped dispatch two of the orcs that were attempting to cut Taurial down. The red headed elf captain was quick to dispatch the other three.
“Taurial, what are you doing here?” demanded Legolas.
“Saving the Line of Durin,” Taurial said. “The son of the Defiler leads a second army from the North. They will soon over run this hill.”
Legolas cursed, they had been so focused on Azog, even his Father had forgotten about Bolg.
“We must hurry!”
The two elves quickly dispatched the foes in their way and finally reached the top of the mountain.
The scene was truly desperate. Azog held aloft one of the Durin’s heir, Oakenshield and his man was staring up at him. Legolas had no doubt that the pale orc was about to murder the young heir right in front of Oakenshield.
Legolas drew his last arrow from his quiver and fired. His aim was true, the arrow sank deep into Azog’s skull. Taurial had taken a more direct approach and was running down the incline, swords drawn.
Fili slipped out of the Orc’s grasp, falling down the cliff side, relatively unharmed. Kili was quickly by his side and dragging his elder brother back to the safety of Thorin and Dwalin with Taurial guarding over them.
Azog’s body seemed to hang frozen in the air before falling to the side. His body lifeless as it bounced down the side of the cliff until it came to a stop at Thorin’s feet.
Thorin couldn’t believe it. The Orc that killed his Grandfather, his Father, and almost his nephew was dead at his feet. The cruel blue eyes just staring up at him.
With a sudden rush of anger, Thorin raised his sword and brought it down on Azog’s neck, severing the head from the body.
It was curious, he expected joy when Azog lay at his feet, or a sense of satisfaction that his family was avenged. However he felt none of that. Only relief that it was over. Thanks to an elf, he was still alive and so were his nephews. Nephews that were making their way towards him.
Thorin dropped his sword and pulled Fili and Kili close, not caring about the danger that was still around them. He had to reassure himself that both were still alive.
Dwalin kept a sharp lookout as the royals embraced. Managing to gut the son of Azog as he tried to sneak up on them with the help of the red-haired she elf. With relish Dwalin beheaded Blog. The line of the Defiler had ended and the Durins had prevailed.
Impaling the heads on their swords, Thorin held them aloft at the signal point and bellowed loud enough to be heard.
“THE DEFILER AND HIS SPAWN ARE DEAD!”
Thousands of orcs and goblins froze at the sight of the most feared orc on the end of Durin’s sword. The alliance of men, elves, dwarrows, and a lone hobbit took advantage of the situation and pressed forward.
Thorin’s call also proclaimed the coming of the eagles as they swooped down, bringing down dozens of orcs with their talons
At the sound of Thorin’s bellow, Bilbo froze like all the others at the sight of Azog and Blog’s heads held aloft.
But the sight of the eagles flying overhead snapped him out of it. “The eagles,” he whispered at the sight of about a dozen eagles swooping down. He was to busy watching, he didn’t notice the piece of armor that had been ripped from an orc that an eagle had shredded through came flying at him.
It was a glancing blow, but enough to stun Bilbo. Sting slipped through his blood drenched fingers, his body soon following. Bilbo didn’t know how much time had passed, but when he came too, he was alone. Sitting up, his head throbbed, and he could feel dried blood in his hair of which he was certain was his.
The wind washed the smell of blood over Bilbo, and nausea overwhelmed Bilbo and he gagged. The pounding in his head grew worse and blackness threatened to engulf him again. Luckily for Bilbo the spell passed and he was able to regain his feet. Erebor lay across the field of dead, but the hobbit knew that the wounded and survivors would most likely head that way.
Bilbo trudged through the mud, mud that had formed because of all the blood that had soaked into the ground. All around him lay dead bodies, the silence only interrupted by the moans from the wounded. Bilbo continued on, he had to find out what had happened to his fam- to the Company. They were the Company, no longer his family.
Climbing a small bluff, Bilbo was greeted by the sight of tents and elves, dwarrows, and men milling around them; bringing more and more wounded from the field.
Bilbo stood on the bluff overlooking the battlefield and watched relieved as Thorin supported by Fili and Kili slowly walked across the battlefield in the direction of the newly erected healing tents. Every few minutes another member of the Company joined them until all twelve was forming a protective circle around their King. A quiet sob escaped Bilbo as he thanked the Valar that all of his family had survived this battle where five armies had fought.
Bilbo wanted nothing more than to run down the hill and embrace them one by one. But he could not, he had betrayed his family and had been disowned and banished. And it hit him as he stood alone on the bluff that he was truly homeless. He dared not return to Hobbiton where the brand and shorn state would make him a social pariah for the rest of his life.
And once Erebor was settled stories of his deeds would travel through the dwarrow settlement and he would find no welcome there. He supposed he could go back to Rivendale but memories of what happened with Thranduil’s elves would haunt him for some time and living with elves had lost its appeal. Bilbo supposed he could find a place among the cities of men, but he knew that he would only be ridiculed for his small size. Besides he knew no trade, sure he could read, and write and tend a garden, but other than that he had no skills. As a gentlehobbit he wasn’t required to learn a trade besides learning how to manage his property.
Bilbo silently wished his former family a good-bye, and turned away.
Tears gathered in Bilbo’s eyes as he turned away. His heart yearned to turn around and be with his dwarrows, but he couldn’t. He was no longer wanted. He was banished, and he knew word had probably spread about his treason. It was best to leave right now and go…Bilbo didn’t know where. He just turned towards Mirkwood. Perhaps Beorn would be willing to shelter him for while so that he could gather his thoughts and plan on what to do.
Each step he took further from his dwarrows made his heart break even more, and he couldn’t help the tears that ran down his face, blurring his vision as he left the shadow of Erebor further and further behind him.
The sun was beginning to set when Legolas went to retrieve Bilbo.
“Bilbo?” called Legolas as he jogged to the spot where he had left the hobbit. But try as he could he did not see the hobbit anywhere and worry clenched at his thoughts that a stray orc or goblin had found this spot and carried Bilbo away. He quickly searched the ground trying to find some evidence of where the hobbit might have gone. Legolas’s keen eyes quickly picked out the hobbit’s faint footprints that lead straight to the battlefield.
“Oh Bilbo, what did you do?” whispered Legolas as he looked out over the miles of battlefield and the sea of corpses that covered it. Was one of those corpses smaller than the rest, with no armor and only a small dagger to protect itself? Or was he one of the hundreds wounded on the field, left to suffer until help could arrive?
Notes:
Happy New Year! Thanks for reading!
Chapter 28: Finding Out
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Even after the beheading of Azog and Bolg the battle raged fiercely. But instead of trying to advance the orcs and goblins were fighting to retreat. However the alliance of men, dwarrows, and elves were quite unwilling to allow their foes to escape to easily.
Legolas and Taurial had run off after helping the Durin’s to help Thranduil’s forces. The Durins were quick to follow them back down the mountain.
Many had run from the King Under Mountain, but some Orcs stood their ground and fought viciously against the dwarrow. One was even lucky to land a glancing blow on Thorin’s thigh before the dwarrow gutted him.
Fili and Kili had immediately taken position in front of their Uncle after he received the wound. Thorin was proud to call them his sister-sons.
As the orcs and goblins scattered to the hills, the elves and some of Dain’s men had become busy, erecting tents at the base of Erebor and collecting the wounded. Thorin, Fili, Kili, and Dwalin slowly made their way towards those tents, killing stray orcs and goblins along the way.
It didn’t need to be said aloud, but the need to see if all in the Company had made it was strong. However the wound on Thorin’s leg did not condone a fast pace. Half-way to the tents, Thorin was forced to use his nephews as living crutches as his leg spasmed in pain.
Thorin gave a sigh of relief as more and more of the Company appeared the closer they got to the healing tents. All were covered in blood and a few minor wounds, but overall hale.
Dori was immediately fussing over Fili and Kili, like he had so many times during the quest.
“You alright laddie?” asked Balin after he embraced Dwalin.
“A minor wound is all Balin, nothing to worry about,” assured Thorin.
The white haired dwarf gave Thorin a long look before nodding. He surprised Thorin by stepping forward and embracing Thorin, bringing their foreheads together gently. That action more than anything confirmed to Thorin how worried Balin had been. Thorin’s heart clenched at the thought of what Balin would have done if he had died along with the boys. The older dwarf probably would have done something stupid, like try to retake Moria.
The moment was broken by the sound of a shout.
Thorin looked up to see his cousin Dain heading towards them.
“Cousin!” called Dain again, dismounting his war pig when he was close.
Thorin had seen his cousin during the battle from afar, before racing off to finish off Azog. Thorin was happy to see the other. For a moment it looked like only the small force of men, elves, and 13 dwarrows would face the orcs and goblins. But as the sun rose, Dain’s army had come with it. Bearing down on the unsuspecting orcs like a wave, slaughtering everything in their path.
Dain grabbed Thorin by the shoulders and brought their foreheads together with a mighty *thwak*.
“I’m glad to see you safe, I feared the worst when I saw you and the boys racing towards Raven Hill,” Dain said pulling back and studying his cousins face as if assuring himself Thorin was real.
“We were lucky, Thranduil’s son and Captain of the Guard were there to help us. We would have lost Fili if it wasn’t for them.”
Dain’s eyebrow rose, “Really?”
Thorin sighed, “Much has happened Cousin.”
“It must have if you are not angry that an elf helped you.”
“Much has happened,” repeated Thorin.
Dain eyed his cousin before taking in the rest of the dwarrows that had accompanied him. There seemed to be a sadness that covered them. Grief that was not being spoken of. It confused the King of the Iron Hills. All thirteen dwarrows that had made up the Company were there, and he even had seen the wizard. The battle had been won and Erebor was once again the Longbeards. Why did they all seemed like they had lost something?
“We will discuss everything cousin, but first Thorin better that leg taken care of,” Balin said.
There were a mutters of Ayes, among them. Oin motioning for the boys to continue to the tents.
Bifur was the only one that paused before entering the small tent city. He felt as if someone was looking at them. Turning around his brown eyes searched over the battle field, trying to pinpoint the culprit of the sensation. But he saw nothing, just a small bit of movement on a ridge near the edge of the battlefield. Though he could not say if it was a stray orc or another walking wounded.
“Bifur, you alright?” he heard Ori call out.
Bifur nodded and turned to rejoin the Company as they waited outside the tent Oin, Thorin, and Dain had entered.
Legolas searched the immediate vicinity hoping that perhaps he had just over looked the hobbit. Legolas menatly scolded himself, what did he think? Bilbo had just laid down for a nap! If he was still in the vicinity he would surely come out as Legolas called.
Guilt flooded Legolas as he gazed out over the battlefield, he should have stayed there with Bilbo to make sure the hobbit was safe. Or taken him to a safer area where he couldn’t wander away into the battle. But another part whispered that if he had did that Thorin Oakenshield, his nephews, and Taurial would have all died at the pale Orc’s hand.
It was with a heavy heart, Legolas began to walk towards the healing tents, his keen eyes searching for any sign of the hobbit. But even his keen eyes could not detect one lone hobbit’s footprints in the sea of carnage.
He stopped many times to help the wounded, and slay orcs and goblins that were not quite dead. It seemed that anybody who could walk was helping clear the battlefield of wounded. It was strange to see dwarrows carrying wounded elves from the battlefield, along with men.
It seemed when faced with tragedy, old feuds and arguments were set aside. All that mattered now was picking up the pieces. Legolas wondered in the back of his mind, if perhaps his Father could have fostered this behavior by helping the dwarrows back when Erebor first fell.
With that in mind, Legolas didn’t hesitate to carry a several wounded dwarf back to the healing tents. It seemed as if a dwarf from Thorin’s Company had taken charge of the tents and was directing the flow of wounded. The serious cases were being sent straight to the Elvish Healers, and the less serious ones were being taken care of by the dwarvish healers. The dwarf in Legolas’s arms went straight to the elvish healers.
Coming out of the tent, Legolas saw the one person who might be able to help him find the hobbit.
“Gandalf,” called Legolas coming to a stop in front of the Wizard, not noticing he had company.
“What is it Legolas?” asked Gandalf.
“I need your help, Bilbo is somewhere out there,” Legolas said motioning towards the battlefield.
“Bilbo was out there?” demanded Thorin the color draining from his face.
Legolas’s eyes flickered to him before returning to Gandalf, “I found him in the main goblin camp. Unharmed” he quickly added. “I left him in a safe place with his dagger to protect himself as I returned to the battle. But he is no longer there and his footprints lead to the battlefield.”
Gandalf leaned heavily against his staff, his tired grey eyes gazing at the destruction, Thorin following his example. Their hobbit had been out there!
“Uncle?”
Thorin turned to his see his nephews and the rest of the Company standing behind them.
“Bilbo was out there?” asked Fili looking horrified.
“He was,” Legolas confirmed.
“We got to go out there!” Kili said making a move to head out, only to be caught by Dwalin. “Let go!”
“Easy lad,” Dwalin said, “It’s getting dark out there, with stray orcs and goblins running around. You do no one any good going out there and getting yourself killed.”
“It’s Bilbo! We have to do something!” growled Kili trying to throw Dwalin’s arm off. “Tomorrow morning might be too late!”
“We don’t even know where to start Kili,” Gloin said heavily, “The battlefield is miles wide, and Dwalin is right the sun will soon set.”
“He could survive,” spoke up Bofur. “He has survived so much already.
“He is one small hobbit, with no armor and a small dagger. How could he survive out there?” asked Dori, saying what everybody else was thinking.
Bifur growled, “He has never given up on us, it would be dishonorable to do that to him. We look for him, spread the word amongst our kin here to the Blue Mountains if we must. Thranduil owes him a debt as well, send word to his people to search too. Whether Bilbo is alive or dead, we will find him!”
Dain had considered himself a very patient dwarf. He had waited until his cousin had his leg treated, and then when Gandalf had pulled him aside, and now trying to decipher who the kriff Bilbo was and he had enough guessing.
Night had fallen and those that had been able to move had retreated into the mountain, where at least they would have some protection from the elements. His cousin had retreated into a little room that might have been a broom closet.
"Who is this Bilbo, and why are the boys crying?" asked Dain coming to sit next to Thorin on a small cot that somehow ended up in there.
Thorin did not answer right away, just stared at the wall.
“When this quest started, it did not begin in the Blue Mountains. It started in a small place called Bag End in the Shire, where a hobbit became the fourteenth member of our Company. A hobbit named Bilbo Baggins.” Thorin gave a very brief description of the quest and how the Company came to care for their burglar.
“You seem concerned for the halfling,” Dain hedged.
“He’s a member of my Company, one of the fourteen souls that were brave enough to follow me. But more importantly he is Family,” Thorin said with some force. “He is everything that a dwarf is not, he had no real stake in this quest but came anyway. We came to care deeply for him, even I and we adopted him. Gave him braids and beads, he is like another nephew to me. In the depth of my gold sickness I banished him, and cut the braids from his hair. Bilbo did nothing but ensure that we would survive and I disowned him.”
Dain was shocked, his mind struggling to grasp that Thorin had adopted a stranger, one that wasn’t a dwarf and made him family.
Thorin didn’t seem to notice his cousin’s distress as he continued on. “I promised him a family, a place here. Yet when orcs marched on this mountain, I refused to listen.” Thorin looked around the small room. “Here was where he was sleeping at nights. We didn’t even realize it until after he left. If he was here now I would shave my beard, get down on my knees and beg for his forgiveness. And now, it might be to late. Only Mahal knows where he is right now.”
Notes:
You know it seems like only yesterday that I was beginning to write this story, and today I was looking at the date of when I first published this and I was surprised that it is coming up five years! Gosh it doesn't seem that long. I want to thank everyone who has stuck around that long, and hopefully (even though I said this last year) I will finish this up. The end is in sight people a certain hobbit and a couple of dwarrows just need to get their act together.
Chapter 29: Found
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Bilbo shivered in his coat as he walked towards the river that was emptying into the lake. Winter was truly beginning to set in. It was hard to believe that this time last year he was in his large hobbit hole, wishing for the warmth of friends and family. Ironically he had gotten his wish, and had lost it. He vaguely thought after the dragon and Thorin being crowned that perhaps he would stay. The dwarrows had all but confirmed that.
As much as he loved his hobbit family, he wasn’t as close to them as he had been to his dwarrows. It seemed like a cruel joke that the only things he had to remember this journey was his sword and his scars. What his relatives would think of him then.
He finally reached the stream. Bilbo gratefully sank beside the stream, feeling incredibly dirty and extremely thirty. It had been days since he had had anything to eat or drink. Slowly he scooped up some and brought it to his lips and drank until he was satisfied.
Now satisfied, he stripped his blood stained jacket and began to scrub the blood and grime off his skin vigorously, only being gentle with the rope burn on his wrist. He held back tears as he gentle washed the blood from his ears the best he could. Bilbo also looked away from his feet as he washed them, not wanting to be faced with their shorn state.
As he washed he was surprised to find gashes he collected during the battle, he had not felt any pain from them until that second. It was as if once he was aware he had them was when they started to throb in pain. The worst was a scrape across his ribs that immediately began to bleed again once he washed off the dried blood. Bilbo sighed, he didn’t know enough about the plants in the part of Middle Earth to make a poultice. The best he could do was tear a strip off his shirt and clean it the best he could in the cold stream and bind it as well as he could manage. He was so focused on his task he didn’t hear the sound of the foot steps behind him until a voice spoke.
“Bilbo?” asked a hesitant voice.
Bilbo turned quickly around and was surprised to see Tilda standing a little ways away, her dress showing signs of being scorched. Seeing that this was the hobbit, the little girl sprang forward and pulled her friend into a hug. She had been worried about the little hobbit since the day the dragon came.
“Tilda!” exclaimed Bilbo as the little girl clutched at him. Despite the pain from the wounds, Bilbo clutched just as hard to her as she was doing to him. It was one thing for Bard to say she was alright it was another to stand here and hold one of his friends, and see for his very eyes that she had survived Smaug.
“Where’s your sister and brother Tilda?” asked Bilbo worriedly when they pulled apart. The hobbit saw no signs of Tilda’s elder siblings and he knew that they would never had let the little girl wander away purposely by herself.
The little girl pointed back the way she had come.
“Back there, but I’m looking for Da, he should be back by now.”
Bilbo paled at the thought of Tilda stumbling upon the battlefield and seeing the horror that was war.
“You should go back, I’m sure your sister and brother are quite worried about you. Don’t worry about your Father, I saw him and he is fine,” assured Bilbo. “It just might take him awhile for him to return, now let’s get you back to your camp.”
“Okay Bilbo,” agreed Tilda grabbing his hand and leading him back the way to camp. As they walked Tilda chattered on how the elves of Mirkwood had helped them set up a camp and had brought enough food for them to survive the next couple of weeks
Bilbo was glad that Tilda was walking slowly, he didn’t think that he would be able to keep up with her if she insisted on going faster.
Tilda led Bilbo through the hills to the edge of Mirkwood, where the survivors of Laketown were camped. Bilbo’s heart clenched at the sight of so few people out of the thousands that had lived there. It was partially his fault, no matter what Dori had assured him so long ago. He had awoken the dragon, and he was the one who made the mistake of bringing up the barrels.
“Tilda!” came a call and the little girl was plucked off the ground by her older sister. “Where have you been! You had us worried sick!”
Sigrid and Bain were relieved to see their younger sister. They had searched the entire camp looking for the little girl when they realized that she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. They had prepared to go into Mirkwood, thinking perhaps she had wandered in when Marge had brought word she was back in the camp.
“I was looking for Da, but I found Bilbo instead, he said that Da is alright.”
Sigrid looked down, surprise morphing to worry as she took in the hobbit that was standing patiently beside her.
“Master Bilbo!” Bain said with a smile and hugging the hobbit. “We are so happy to see you.”
“I’m so happy to see you all to,” Bilbo said a genuine smile on his face as he took in the well-being of the three.
“Come, come to our fire Bilbo,” Bain said. “We have some stew.”
The water Bilbo had drunk had reawaken his stomach. “I don’t want to impose,” Bilbo began but Sigrid waved it away.
“Please Master Bilbo, come share our fire.”
It didn’t escape the elder girls notice the blood that covered the hobbit’s cloths, his hair, and the rope burns on his thin wrists. Something terrible had happened to the hobbit, besides the battle. The way the dwarrows had been so protective of the hobbit, and now here he was all by himself, clearly injured and hurting and there was no sign of them.
Like a mother hen, Sigrid had both her siblings and the hobbit sitting in front of their fire with blankets wrapped around their shoulders with bowls of stew in their hands. She stayed long enough to make sure they were all eating before slipping away to grab some of the healing supplies that the elves had left when they marched to war.
When she returned, she was surprised to see Bilbo curled up on next to Tilda, much like he had been in Laketown, fast asleep.
“He barely was able to finish his stew before falling asleep,” Bain said.
“We’ll let him sleep a bit before tending his injuries and asking for news,” Sigrid decided. Even though she wanted nothing more than to shake the hobbit and ask him how the battle had faired.
Decision made, Sigrid sat down beside her sibling’s and ladled out her own bowl of stew.
“Now Tilda, how about you explain how you found Master Bilbo?” she said leveling a glare down at her youngest sibling.
Tilda had the decency to duke her head, chastened. The story tumbled out of her mouth how she had decided to go find Da, because it had been too long. How she made it all the way back to the Lake, by following the stream. And how she had stumbled upon Bilbo washing himself near the mouth of it.
“He then told me Da was alright and would be back soon and for right now we needed to come back so not to worry you or Bain,” Tilda finished.
Sigrid sat quietly, digesting the story before speaking. “Tilda, that was a very foolish thing to do, wandering away from camp like that. Rest assured I will be telling Da when he does come back. What if it hadn’t been Bilbo you came across, what if it had been an Orc or Goblin! We wouldn’t have known what happened to you, and Da would have been devastated,” scolded Sigrid.
Tears welled up in Tilda’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to find Da.”
Sigrid immediately wrapped her sister into a hug. “I know you didn’t mean all the worry, but until Da is back you have to stay here. It’s dangerous out there. Promise me you won't do that again!”
“I promise sissy, I promise.”
“Good,” Sigrid said with a nod and a smile. There was silence for a moment, except for the pop and crackling on the fire.
“Can Bilbo stay with us?”
“We’ll see,” Sigrid said.
The moon was beginning to rise when Bilbo began to toss and turn, mumbling in his sleep. “Please don’t! I’m sorry!” he cried. “Thorin no!”
Bain immediately began to shake Bilbo’s shoulder. “Wake up Bilbo! Wake up!”
The hobbit woke with a cry. His eyes were wide in fright.
“It’s alright Bilbo, it’s alright,” soothed Sigrid, watching as the fright gradually left the green eyes of the hobbit. A deep shuddering breath signified that the hobbit was completely aware.
“Apologizes,” he murmured, refusing to meet the children’s eyes.
“Don’t apologize,” Bain said, “Many people here have been having nightmares of the dragon. I’ve had a few, so has Tilda. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Finally Bilbo looked up and met his eyes. “Thank-you Bain.”
“I was about to wake you anyway,” cut in Sigrid. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you were injured Master Hobbit. Bain, put on a pot of water and Bilbo take off your shirt.”
Bain did as he was bid and Sigrid retrieve the supplies she had gathered earlier. However when she turned back to Bilbo, she frowned. Bilbo had not only not taken off his jacket and shirt, but was holding it tighter around himself.
“Thank-you Sigrid, but I can take care of my own wounds.”
Sigrid’s eyes became hard as she pinned the hobbit with a glare. “Bilbo Baggins you are going to sit down and take off your shirt and let me tend to your injuries.”
Bilbo immediately obeyed and Sigrid had to hide her smile. Da always said that she was just like her mother. She could make anybody feel like a scolded child, and they would jump to do what she had asked.
Bain and Tilda sat close by watching as their sister worked.
Using the warm water, Sigrid washed out the many wounds that covered the hobbit before applying the elvish poultices. Questions burned on the tip of the older girls tongue, especially for the rope burns on the hobbit’s wrists. But she dared not ask, not when Bilbo refused to meet her eyes. Not even when she gently washed the remaining blood from his hair, seeing for the first time the wounds on his ears and the small tuffs of freshly cut hair. However she should of expected Tilda to have no such qualms of asking questions.
“Bilbo what happened to your braids, and your foot hair?” asked Tilda with the innocence of a child.
Sigrid felt Bilbo stiffen underneath her hands, and the small hitch of breath of a sob.
Sigrid looked over her shoulder at Tilda and Bain, “It’s past your bed times, get going.”
“But Sigrid-“ Tilda whined.
“No buts, you still are in trouble, get to bed. Bilbo and I will be there in a little bit.”
The two grumbled, but the stern glare that Sigrid leveled at them had them obeying.
“Thank-you,” whispered Bilbo with tears in his eyes, when Tilda and Bain were in their tent, leaving only Sigrid and him by the fire.
“Your welcome, but Bilbo what happened? Why are you not with your dwarrows,” Sigrid asked gently.
“I was banished,” Bilbo said with a small sob. The story of his dwarrows falling into the goldsickness, his gamble, and how he was cast out. In a smaller voice he told the girl how he was captured by orcs and shorn.
Sigrid was crying by the end of it, silent tears streaming down her checks as she gently bandaged the cuts on Bilbo’s ears.
“I’m sorry Bilbo,” she whispered when she was finished and pulled the hobbit into a hug. “That shouldn’t have happened to you.”
“Thank-you,” Bilbo said softly clutching at the taller human.
For the first time in days Bilbo felt a measure of safety and didn’t even argue when Sigrid pulled him into the tent that she was sharing with her siblings. He just let himself soak in the warmth and the affection the siblings were offering and fell into a deep sleep where nightmares did not bother him.
Thorin and the Company was up bright and early and helping to organize the forces that were left into doing what need to be done. Wounded were still being brought in from the field, the mountain halls were being cleared trying to get to the healing halls, and the dead orcs, wargs, and goblins were being collected and burned.
A command tent had been set up and Thorin and Dain were delegating tasks. Or at least trying to. Fili, Kili, Ori, and Bofur had snuck out early to search the battlefield for Bilbo.
It was mid-morning when Bard entered the tent, ignoring Dain and stopping straight in front of Thorin. “I meant to talk to you last night, but circumstances kept me from coming. I was informed by Legolas that Bilbo was on the field during the time of the battle. I just wanted to tell you that I have told my men to keep an eye out for Bilbo. We will inform you if we find him."
Thorin nodded, it was a relief that everybody was keeping an eye out for the hobbit. "Thank-you Bard."
Bard smiled softly, "Consider it repayment for providing armor for my men."
Thorin nodded, turning serious. "I mean to see Bilbo's terms honored. I will ensure that you get what you were promised."
“I will hold you to that. My people will need it to rebuild. I am leaving soon to check on my children and the rest of the survivors of Laketown.”
“Erebor will welcome your people if you choose to. Winter is almost here, the mountain is big enough to house all until the spring when you can start to rebuild Dale.”
Bard looked taken aback, the man had thought he would have to ask Thranduil for sanctuary for the winter.
“I will discuss it with them, thank-you your Majesty,” Bard said with a slight bow and a warm smile, showing Thorin respect that he had earned.
With a smile on his face Bard turned and headed towards his horse. He couldn’t wait to have his children in his arms once more.
Bard had no idea what he would find when he finally reached the small camp on the edge of Mirkwood.
Notes:
Hoped you enjoyed!
Chapter 30: Bard makes a Discovery
Chapter Text
Something inside Bard unclenched as he topped the hill and saw the camp untouched below. Bard couldn’t imagine what would have happened if his people had stayed in the ruins of Dale. The city had been overrun during the battle. The women and children would have been trapped.
Shaking out of his dark thoughts, he nudged his horse and cantered down the hill.
Words of welcome and relief called out to him as he passed. But none tried to stop him and talk, they all knew where he was heading. Word spread faster than Bard could ride, and he heard his children calling almost as soon as he had dismounted.
“Da!” yelled Tilda running towards Bard and throwing herself into his waiting arms. Bain and Sigrid where not far behind her.
Bard clutched all three in his arms. His heart sang in happiness to have his babies in his arms.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t send word sooner,” Bard apologized kissing each of his children on their heads.
“It’s alright Da, we knew you were safe,” Bain said pulling away slightly to study his Da. Beside looking tired, he appeared unharmed.
“Bilbo said so,” finished Tilda, snuggled happily in her Da’s embrace.
Bard froze, did his youngest say what he thought she said? “Bilbo? Bilbo is here?”
Sigrid nodded, “He’s back at the tent Da. He’s not seriously injured, but...” Sigrid trailed off.
She didn’t think Bilbo would appreciate his story being told.
“Take me to him, please,” Bard asked, he had to see the hobbit with his own two eyes.
Tilda was happy to take her Da by the hand and pulling him back to the tent chattering about the hobbit.
And then they were there in front of the tent and the hobbit that seemed to have vanished in mid-air was looking up at Bard with worry and apprehension in his eyes.
Bilbo didn’t know what to expect when he saw the children leading Bard over. The hobbit in fact had hoped that he would have a few more days to recover before Bard showed up. Now it seemed that his time had run out. Maybe Bard would give him some supplies before kicking him out. After all he had promised the man his share of the treasure, guaranteed it. Now he couldn’t deliver on his word, he had broken his word once again.
Bilbo was surprised when the man knelt and drew him into a hug. “You had us very worried Master Hobbit. I’m glad to see that you are safe.”
“Why?” asked Bilbo.
Bard felt a sharp spike of pain that Bilbo would question why someone would be worried for him. It made him want to brain Thorin again with a rock.
“Because Bilbo many of us care about your wellbeing. I do, Prince Legolas, and even the dwarrows still do,” Bard said gently looking the hobbit in the eyes as he said so. “Whatever hold the gold had on them seems to have been broken. Thorin himself expressed his regret of what happened, to me before the battle. His nephews and a few others in your Company searched the entire mountain by the secret door without finding a sign. Your dwarrows are spending every free minute combing the battlefield, praying they don’t find your corpse.”
Bilbo wanted to believe what Bard was saying, but his bruised and broken heart would not allow it. He broke the gaze and looked at the ground, eyes skirting over his feet.
As soon as Bilbo broke eye contact with the man, Bard knew that his words were not believed. However he wasn’t going to push the younger being, not now.
“Anyways I am truly glad to see you. After the battle, Legolas brought word that he could not find you where he left you. We feared the worst Bilbo.”
“I’m alright,” Bilbo said, “How did your men fair?”
Bard sighed, “We had our share of casualties, but it could have been worse. Thorin opened the mountains armory for my men. The swords, axes, and armor that Thorin provided the men saved many of their lives. He has even offered to allow the men to stay inside the mountain until the spring when we can start the rebuilding. Which I unfortunately have to talk to the people about,” Bard said, “I will see you in a bit.”
As Bard stood up, he made sure to catch his eldest eyes and nodded to Bilbo.
Sigrid understood that look, and she returned her Da’s nod, she would make sure that Bilbo didn’t make a run for it.
The village meeting went as well as expected. The tears from everyone as he read the list of dead and wounded. The demands from everyone of what they were going to do, and the arguments of whether it was a good idea to accept Thorin’s offer.
Bard was glad that word of the dwarrows fall into gold sickness hadn’t reached the camp. They had already been on there way to Mirkwood when Thranduil’s army had shown up on Erebor’s door.
Bard could only imagine the headache when the villagers found that out. And he was sure going to get an earful when that did happen. But he preferred to be safe in the Mountain with enough supplies to last the quickly approaching winter when that did happen.
The discussion went on for hours but in the end it was decided that they would take the dwarven king up on his offer until spring.
It was heading towards evening when Bard made his way back to his family’s tent pausing on the edge to observe the scene. Bilbo was talking animatedly to a captivated Bain and Tilda as he helped Sigrid prepare the evening meal.
“And then the elf lord kissed the sleeping elfwoman and the spell was broken and they all lived happily ever after.”
“Another Bilbo, please?” begged Tilda.
“Supper’s almost ready Tilda, perhaps Bilbo can start another later,” Sigrid cut in gently. “Why don’t you two wash up.”
“Awwww,” whined Bain and Tilda, but a stern glare from Sigrid had them scurrying to obey.
Bard took the opportunity to sit down next to the fire. “They like you Master Baggins.”
“They’re good kids.”
Bard smiled proudly, “Yes they are and you seemed to have wrapped my youngest around your finger. I’ve never seen them sit so still for anyone except Sigrid, and they know better than to nettle her.”
Bilbo smiled, “Hobbit’s have large families. When my parents were alive, and we went to relatives houses, I was often asked to watch my cousins while the adults did some task or another. I always found that tales were one of the few things that would keep them silent and still.”
“Do you have siblings waiting for you when you return to the Shire?” asked Bard, testing the waters. He would not force the hobbit to return to the Mountain. But he wasn’t going to let the hobbit leave before he knew of his plans.
The happy smile melted off of Bilbo’s face, the very air seemed to turn colder. “No, even if I could return, there is no one waiting for me.”
Bard watched his eldest lay a comforting hand on the hobbit’s shoulder. Bard leaned forward. “Bilbo, why would you not be able to return?”
Bilbo said nothing, but shuffled his feet. Bard’s eyes followed the movement, and he realized the hair that had once covered them was gone. Now Bard didn’t know much about hobbits but he could take a guess that the hair that covered their feet was about as important as a dwarf’s beard.
“Who was it?” asked Bard softly.
Bilbo licked his lips, “Azog.”
Bard shuddered, Legolas said the hobbit had been in the goblin camp. But none had thought that the pale orc had known about the hobbit being there. Now here Bilbo was admitting that it was the pale orc himself that had shorn him.
“Did he do anything else?”
Bilbo again said nothing, but another twitch gave him away. His head ticked and a lock of hair was displaced from covering his ear. Vivid red gashes covered the whole ear.
The arrival of Tilda and Bain saved Bard from confronting Bilbo about the scratches. Bilbo might had confined in his eldest, but he doubted very much that the youngest two knew about it. Both of his children seemed oblivious of the dour mood and immediately started pestering Bilbo about what his next story might be about.
Or maybe they did. Because Bilbo was soon smiling again, dropping hints about another tale he knew about. About how a common man, disguised himself as a noble to win the heart of a fair maiden without being discovered as being nothing more than a common man.
The meal was excellent, fried ham with salted potatoes and onions. Much better than the rations Bard had been eating the past week. With a satisfied stomach he pulled out his pipe and began to leisurely smoke. Bilbo came to sit next to him, and they passed the pipe back and forth between them.
The man’s leaf wasn’t as good as a pipe of old Toby. But Bilbo enjoyed it none the less, having lost his pipe long ago in Goblin Town.
“The villagers have decided to take Thorin’s offer of sheltering in the mountain for the winter?” Bilbo asked after taking the last drag.
“They have, we cannot stay here, the winter snows already approach and soon this area will be covered in snow. The elves do not have the room to support us all. The mountain is large enough to shelter us all.”
Bilbo nodded, taking Thorin’s offer was the logical choice after all.
“What do you plan to do?” asked Bard.
“If I leave tomorrow, I might be able to make it to Beorn’s before the snows,” Bilbo said with more confidence than he felt.
“What then Bilbo?”
Bilbo sighed, “I don’t know.”
Bard looked down at the hobbit, once again reminded how young the other being was. He looked like a lost child sitting next to Bard. The man couldn’t resist reaching out and draping his arm over Bilbo’s thin shoulders.
“Even if my children allow you to leave tomorrow Bilbo, how would you make it through Mirkwood? Most of Thranduil’s people are still on the battle field, so the spiders have free reign. Even Beorn himself is still at the battlefield.”
Bilbo’s shoulders slumped even more at this news. “I don’t know what to do,” he whispered.
“Bilbo I can’t tell you what to do,” Bard began. “All I can do is offer you a spot at my table. You are welcome to stay with my family as long as it takes to make up your mind of what you want.”
Tears welled up in Bilbo’s eyes. He had not expected such kindness from the man. His time away from the Shire had revealed the cruelty of the world to the hobbit. “Thank-you Bard,” he whispered.
Bard smiled, well aware what thoughts were going through the young hobbit’s head. “But I will say that those dwarrows want you back. And by Valar if it is some kind of trick, I will personally protect you.”
The tears in Bilbo’s eyes slowly fell at the man’s promise. “Do you think I should stay or go?” he asked.
Bilbo was desperate for another’s opinion. His heart was crying out for his dwarrows, but his mind was screaming for him to leave. Each choice made his heart clench in pain, and his mind think of consequences.
“I do know Bilbo, if you leave, you will always wonder what could have been,” Bard said gently.
Bilbo nodded, he was already wondering now.
“Don’t decide now, sleep on it. It will be about mid-morning before the villagers are ready to move out,” advised Bard. “If you decide to leave, I will send an escort with you to Beorn’s. If not, as I said you are welcomed at my table.”
“I will, thank-you again,” Bilbo said.
Together the two men sat in silence, enjoying the evening before Bain and Tilda came back and dragging Bilbo back to the tent and demanding their story. Causing Bard to laugh at their enthusiasm to go to bed early.
It was good to see his children, still acting like children in wake of the circumstances that led them here.
Sigrid took a seat next to her Father, knowing that the older man had questions. Bard packed another pipe of tobacco before fixing his eldest with a glance.
“So how did Bilbo manage to make it here? It seems like you and your brother and sister have failed to mention it,” Bard side with a knowing smile.
Sigrid sighed deeply, telling Bard all he needed to know. “Tilda?”
“Tilda.”
Sigrid explained to her father how Tilda had disappeared, how they had searched for hours and then she later turned up being escorted by the hobbit.
‘I’ll have to talk to her in the morning.”
Bard shuddered to think what might have happened if Tilda hadn’t been Bilbo she stumbled over. He thanked the Valar that it was. Bard stayed up by the fire long after Sigrid had gone to bed. He hoped that when Thorin received the note he sent after the meeting, that he wouldn’t be swarmed with dwarrows.
When he finally went to bed, he was greeted with the sight of his children in a giant pile, and in the middle a hobbit with golden curls being clutched possessively by both Tilda and Bain. The sight made him laugh, if Bilbo did agree to go back to the mountain, the dwarrows would have fight to get him back from his children. It looked like they weren’t going to give up the hobbit without a fight.
It was twilight in the camp when Bard’s messenger delivered his scroll to Thorin.
The dwarf king had spent the day organizing the camp of dwarrows. Dain had sent ravens to the Iron Hills so hopefully supplies would be coming soon. Supplies would have to be rationed to survive the winter, but Dain assured that they would be enough to sustain The Company, the dwarrows that would be staying, and the men if they chose to stay.
Thorin was grateful to have Balin at his side. The older dwarf knew just what to do in many situations, like when Thranduil had come to visit. He was the perfect mediator between the two stubborn kings.
However Balin was just grateful that the day was almost over with. However the older dwarf knew that this was just the beginning. Soon Erebor would be proper kingdom, much larger than the one they were used to in the Blue Mountains. However Thorin had managed once he would do it again, and Balin would be right there beside him. And his brother Dwalin would help make sure that Thorin didn’t work himself to death.
Hopefully the scroll he just received would be the last piece of business.
Thorin broke the simple seal and read the message within. Both Balin and Dwalin looked up in surprise when his hand came down on the table to support himself.
“What is the matter laddie?” Balin asked in concerned.
Wordlessly Thorin thrust the letter into Balin’s hand. For Dwalin’s benefit Balin began to read the letter aloud.
To Thorin, King Under the Mountain
The people of Dale have decided to accept your offer of shelter in Erebor until spring. I hope that we will be moving out by tomorrow morning so expect us in a day or so.
On another not, you and your Company can stop looking for Master Baggins. It seems that my children have found our missing hobbit and is currently with him. I have not had a chance to discuss what happened during the battle. But rest assure he has not been wounded besides a few scratches I have seen.
That being said, I beg that you and your company remain where they are. It must be Bilbo’s choice alone to return to Erebor. The fact alone that he made it to the edge of Mirkwood means he planned not to return.
You owe it to Bilbo to make this choice. I will bring word of his choice when I arrive with my people.
-Bard
“Thank Aule,” murmured Dwalin once Balin was done.
“We’re going to have to tie up the boys, once they hear their going to try to sneak away,” Balin murmured.
Balin expected Thorin to agree with him. But when he looked up he was shocked into silence. Because Thorin, King Under the Mountain, the dwarf Balin loved as a second brother, was crying. Thick tears trickled down Thorin’s blue eyes to disappear into his beard.
Balin and Dwalin exchanged looks, both seemingly asking the other what to do.
“He’s alive,” murmured Thorin, reaching up he roughly rubbed his face. Taking a deep breath he turned to Dwalin. “Gather the Company, this news needs to be shared.”
“Aye,” gruffed Dwalin before ducking out of the tent and setting about the task of gathering the Company. He just wish he had a butterfly net to catch them all.
Chapter 31: Family
Chapter Text
Dwalin managed to round all the Company up without the assistance of a butterfly net, but it was a close thing. It took him close to two hours to track down Nori alone, damn that dwarf for being so sneaky. It was no wonder that Thorin had planned to make the Ri brother his spy master when Erebor was properly settled.
They were finally all under Thorin’s tent, Fili and Kili were glaring mutinilessly at the ground. Dwalin had to drag them off the battlefield by their jacket tails. They had been so focused on their search for Bilbo that they would not listen to anything Dwalin was saying.
“Now that we have gathered, I will tell you the urgent news that I received. I received word from Bard, Bilbo has been found,” Thorin said, pausing for the outburst that he knew was coming.
“Is he alright?!”
“Does Bard have him?!”
“Where has he been?!”
Where the most common questions that were being yelled out in varying degrees of loudness as everybody tried to be heard over the other. Thorin waited for a few moments for them to calm down. When that didn’t happen, he took matters into his own hands.
“QUIET!” he roared.
If it wasn’t a serious situation, he would have laughed at the expressions on their faces, the mouths that were still open mid shout. But now was not the time for laughing.
“If you would stay silent I will answer all your questions to the best of my ability. But you need to sit down and shut up!” he growled.
Like little dwarvlings the Company took their seats and shut their traps and then looked expectantly at Thorin. With a heavy sigh he told the Company of the fate of their burglar.
Fili and Kili waited until they heard that he was safe at the man’s camp before they jumped up, fully intending to go straight to him.
“Grab them!” ordered Dwalin tackling Fili to the ground.
Bifur managed to tackle Kili before he made it out of the tent.
“Let go Dwalin,” ordered Fili trying to wiggle out from underneath the large warrior. “We have to go get Cousin Bilbo!”
“That’s what you not going to do,” growled Dwalin. “Even if I have to lock you in the dungeons of Erebor, you are not going to the mens camp.”
“Of course we are! How else are we going to get Bilbo back,” growled Kili from under Bifur.
“If you would have waited a moment,” Thorin said, “You would have heard the rest of what Bard said. He asked us to stay away from the camp, Bilbo reached all the way to Mirkwood before he was found by Bard’s children. Our hobbit didn’t intend to return to the Mountain.”
Fili and Kili quit their struggling and went still, the whole Company went still. The possibility that Bilbo had almost been gone beyond their reach was sobering.
“If Bilbo is to return to Erebor, it must be his choice,” Thorin said solemnly, “His choice.”
As much as the Company wanted to disregard Thorin’s words, they knew that they couldn’t. As much as it hurt to have Bilbo so far away from them, it had to be Bilbo’s choice to return to them.
“Well if he does return to the Shire, we’ll just have to write him so many apology letters that he will have no choice but to come back to Erebor,” Bofur said with forced cheerfulness.
“When will we know?” asked Dori, “If Bilbo has decided to leave or come back?”
Balin spoke up, “Bard hopes to have his people here tomorrow, he will bring Bilbo’s answer.”
----------------k------------------------------k
As the survivors of Laketown grew closer and closer to Erebor, doubt and dread warred in Bilbo’s heart.
Doubt that Bard was right, that his dwarrows did in fact want back. And the dread that he was wrong, and Thorin will have him executed for daring to return to the Mountain. Bard seemed to sense his inner turmoil as the hobbit caught his worried gaze upon him several times.
Bilbo would be forever grateful to this man in his children. But the hobbit couldn’t help but realize he could potentially put the man in a tough position. Bard had promised to protect him from hi-Thorin’s dwarrows if it was a trap. However Thorin might offer him an ultimatum. Either hand over Bilbo or the survivors of Laketown would be turned away.
Bilbo was fervently praying to the Valar that this didn’t happen, yet the idea gnawed in the back of his mind.
Bard watched as the closer they got to the mountain, the quieter and paler Bilbo got. Not even the children could pull him out of the state he was in. More often than not, Bard found himself walking next to the hobbit. A reminder that Bard was there, and would protect him if necessary. Bilbo would always shot Bard a look filled with gratitude.
After many hours of marching, the long column of men and women finally reached the foot of the mountain where the elves, men, and dwarrows were still camped. And waiting to greet Bard was the Company along with Gandalf.
Gandalf only had to take one look at the hobbit to know something terrible had happened to him.
“Oh my poor boy,” murmured Gandalf beside the dwarrows, as they watched Bilbo approaching next Bard.
“What! What is it Gandalf?” demanded Dori, glancing back between the hobbit and Gandalf, trying to figure out what caused the Wizard distress.
“His foot hair,” Bofur said before Gandalf could answer, having caught the difference almost as quick as Gandalf. “He’s been shorn!”
All eyes focused on their burglar’s legs, which indeed were hairless.
“Why would he?” began Kili when Gandalf cut him off with a glare.
“He wouldn’t do that to himself, no hobbit would. It is the greatest of shame, a sign of banishment. He would no longer be welcomed in the Shire if he returned now.”
“It must have been the goblins, I noticed it when I rescued him,” Legolas said appearing next to Gandalf. His concern for the hobbit was surprisingly showing on his face.
Thorin felt sick, what other horrors had been done to their hobbit?
“I should have killed them more slowly,” groused Dwalin. He wanted to grip the handle of his axe, like so many times to assure himself. But the Company had agreed, they would greet the men with no weapons. Just in case Bilbo was among them. Though the memories of when they had fallen under the gold sickness were fuzzy. They all remembered how Thorin had threatened the hobbit’s life if he ever should return to the Mountain. And they knew that Bilbo would remember this also. So to try to head off any fear Bilbo might have that they were under the goldsickness, they left everything in their tents. Well if Dwalin knew Nori, and he unfortunately did, that dwarf still probably had about a dozen hidden daggers somewhere on his person, Fili to.
The whole Company vibrated with an intense desire to reach out to their hobbit and cuddle him close. To assure him, that nothing like this was ever going to happen again. However a strong look from both Gandalf, Thorin, and the one Bard was sending them was enough to make them stand still.
“We are glad you have accepted our invitation,” Thorin said to Bard, even though his eyes kept flickering to Bilbo.
“I am glad that we are all welcome,” Bard returned.
None of the Company missed how he stressed all.
Thorin nodded, and motioned to group of Dain’s men that was standing to the side. “These dwarrows will show your people where they can stay. Most of the residential areas where untouched by Smaug.”
“Thank-you,” Bard said and motioned for his people and his children to follow the dwarrows. Though he and Bilbo made no move to follow.
Kili and Fili couldn’t help themselves as they stepped closer to Bilbo, many in the Company following their lead when the group of humans had left.
Bilbo trembled as the dwarrows approached him. He was not ready, not ready for this. He shouldn’t have let Bard talk him into this. His shoulders bowed under the weight of thirteen stares, and he felt like he was going to be crushed. That is until his vision is filled with brown.
Bard stepped firmly in front of Bilbo, his long brown coat efficiently hiding the quaking hobbit from the dwarrows view. Though he didn’t draw a weapon, he crossed his arms and stood firm. The sight of the man had the dwarrows pull of short.
Bard glared at the dwarrows, if Bilbo wasn’t quaking in fear behind him, Bard would have given the dwarrows a piece of his mind. But Bilbo needed him to be rational. He refused to say anything or move until the dwarrows moved an appropriate distance back.
Only then did Bard glanced over his shoulder, silently asking Bilbo if he wanted him to move. Only at the small nod of the hobbit’s head did Bard finally move aside and motioned for the Company to slowly approach.
Shame as hot as dragon fire welled up in Thorin as Bilbo curled up into himself further as the Company cautiously approached. A fact that was not missed by any present.
Stopping an arms-length from Bilbo, Thorin fell to his knees and bowed forward until his forehead touched the dirt.
From the thumps behind him, Thorin knew that the rest of the Company had followed his example.
Bilbo must have sent a questioning look to Gandalf for suddenly the old man was speaking.
“It’s the deepest sign of apology and shame Bilbo. Rarely has it been used, especially by a King.”
Thorin didn’t care at the moment that many would say he was shaming himself by offering Bilbo this symbol, this sign of submission. But Bilbo did deserve this and more.
“Bilbo Baggins, I have shamed my name, my line, and my throne. I named you kin and braided a kin bead into your hair. I promised to protect you and I have failed. For in my madness I broke all those vows. Ask anything of me and I will do it, anything in my power. My throne, my wealth, and even my life is yours to do as you see fit. I pray to Mahal that you can one day accept my deepest of apologizes and hope that someday you can forgive my foolishness.”
Thorin was surprised to feel small hands tug on his coat, “Get up please, please get up.”
Reluctantly Thorin raised to his feet and stood still in front of the hobbit waiting with his head bowed, waiting for Bilbo’s justice.
Dried dirt and vegetation clung to his coat as Thorin stood, and Bilbo immediately moved to brush it off. But caught his hand before he could touch the dwarf and began to pull back. Thorin took a chance and reached out and grasped it gently in his own.
Thorin was surprised when Bilbo didn’t flinch but held still, just watching Thorin with eyes that had experienced too much in such a short amount of time. All eyes were on the two.
Thorin caught sight of bandages pecking out of Bilbo’s sleeve. He brought his other hand up and gently ghosted his fingers over them before reaching up and gentle brushing Bilbo’s hair out of the way looking at the angry gouges in his ears he had also seen.
“Goblins?” asked Thorin gently.
Bilbo shook his head, “Azog,” he whispered.
Thorin suddenly had a bad feeling as he let his gaze wander down to Bilbo’s feet. “Did he do that too?”
Tears welled up Bilbo’s eyes as he shook his head yes. He dropped his eyes down, he couldn’t look at the dwarrows when he was filled with so much shame.
Outrage filled Thorin, and he wanted nothing more than to go out and kill Azog again slowly. However he forcefully pushed those thoughts aside. Bilbo didn’t need to see his rage, didn’t need to fear that the dwarf was angry at him. Because it was clear that Bilbo was hurting, Thorin could see the shame and embarrassment in his body language. Thorin knew that this was probably an area where both their people shared similar beliefs. No matter how much they assured their hobbit that he didn’t deserve this, Bilbo would still feel like an outsider that deserved his punishment. And there was only one way to show their hobbit that he wasn’t alone, and he wouldn’t bear this shame alone.
Turning around, Thorin met the eyes of every single member of his Company, dwarrows he now considered his family. Family meant that nobody got left behind or forgotten. It didn’t need to be spoken aloud, they instinctly knew what Thorin was asking of them. If their hobbit had been shorn, so should they.
The sound of metal leaving its sheath had Bilbo looking up, and his eyes widening as the dwarrows all pulled out daggers.
For a moment Bilbo feared that they had fallen back into the gold sickness and were going to follow through with the threat of killing him. However they made no move to grab him. Instead he watched in horror as they brought the blades to their own faces.
Bilbo was stunned into speechlessness as one by one his dwarrows cut their beards. From Ori and Kili small beards, to Bombur’s great rope. None even paused as they cut through their greatest pride of being dwarrows. Each set the cuttings at Bilbo’s feet and stepped back into their place, waiting.
Bilbo couldn’t believe that they did this, and from the silence around them, no one else could either. Again tears welled up in Bilbo eyes as he gazed at the dwarrows.
“Why?”
“Because your family,” Dwalin spoke up much to everyones surprise, coming to knell before the hobbit so they were eye level. “If you are forced to wear the mark of shame, so will we,” he said softly, cupping Bilbo’s scarred check. “Little Brother.”
Tears ran down Bilbo’s face, which Dwalin gently whipped away with his thumb.
This actin more than any of the words that had been said, convinced Bilbo that they were once again themselves.
Bilbo didn’t know who moved first, but next thing he knew he was in the middle of a dwarrow pile. But instead of crushing, strong arms encircled him, holding him, cradling him. An immediate feeling of safety filled him once more, and he quietly sobbed even as he smiled.
Tears were running down everyone’s faces as they embraced each other.
“My dwarrows!” Bilbo kept repeating happily.
“Our hobbit!”
This time the dwarrows vowed that they would never ever let their hobbit go again.
Chapter 32: The End
Summary:
Well this is the end. I want to thank everyone who has followed this story, and reviewed. It was been a long road and I can’t believe that it is over. I hoped that you enjoyed it!
Chapter Text
Epilogue
As spring came to the Lonely Mountain, so did the caravans from the Blue Mountains. In the lead of those Caravans was Dis, sister to Thorin Oakenshield. Mother to Fili and Kili, and for the first time since her childhood was looking up at her Home.
She had spent the last year praying to Mahal that her brother and sons be successful in their quest and survive. When the raven finally came, Dis had feared the worst. But she had been shocked when she read the words that her brother, her sons, and the rest of the Company had survived. Her brother didn’t write much else, such was his way. But he did write that as soon as passes in the Blue Mountains cleared, to bring their people home.
The Mountain was a hive of activity, with not just dwarrows. The town of Dale also appeared to be in a state of rebuilding as well. In both locations, Dis could see both dwarrows and men working and if her eyes were not mistaking her, a few elves.
Dis was shocked, her brother who hated anything was not a dwarrow seemed alright to have a member of each race working in the Mountain.
“Mother!” she heard the twin voices of her sons calling her.
Dis barely had time to climb down off her wagon, before her boys crashed into her, babbling in excitement.
“Mother you’re finally here!” they cried.
“Yes, I’m here,” Dis said hugging them close, she couldn’t believe that they were once again in her arms. Whole and safe. “My boys, my sweet boys.”
They clung to each other, Dis barely managed to notice the other members of the Company arriving until Gloin barreled past them. He barely nodded to her before he gathered his wife and son in a huge hug. The Company smiled as they heard Gloin’s loud exclamations of how big Gimli had become, how long his beard had grown, and how beautiful his wife looked.
“Dis,” he heard the voice of her brother. Dis looked up from her sons to see her brother looking like the King he was always supposed to be. Yet he still looked like her brother. But there was something different hanging around his neck. And looking down at her boys, she saw that the same two pieces. Yet another glance showed that each member of the Company had a necklace with twin pieces of gold on them. But looking at the Company for the first time, Dis realized in shock that their beards were almost non-existence.
Kili looked the same as normal but Fili, Gloin, Bombur, and even Balin had just a shadow of a beard on their faces.
“Thorin what happened?” she demanded, reaching up to touch her brother’s face. “Who did this!”
Thorin just smiled at Dis, “We have a new member of the family, Dis.”
Dis blinked, her brother and Company had been shorn and all he had to say about it was there was a new member of the family? “What?”
Thorin chuckled at her expression. “Come, Bilbo waited in Erebor so to give us our reunion. He has been anxious to meet you.”
“Bilbo?”
“Yes Bilbo Baggins, our burglar.”
“Wasn’t your burglar a hobbit?” she asked, allowing Thorin to lead her towards the gates of Erebor.
“Honorable dwarf now,” Kili supplied helpfully.
This stopped Dis in her path, “Honorable dwarf?”
“It’s a long story Princess Dis,” Balin said with a smile, “And it all started in a hole in the ground where a hobbit lived.”
Many years later a familiar Grey Wizard approached the Lonely Mountain with a small package sitting in front of him. A package he had brought all the way from the Shire, and it was someone that Gandalf had grown very fond of.
Frodo looked up at the Mountain. He never thought he would see something that big in his life. In fact the small faunt never thought he'd ever leave the Shire.
“Will they like me Gandalf?”
“I have no doubt you will soon have all the dwarrows wrapped around your little fingers Frodo. The Company especially have a fondness for hobbits named Baggins,” chuckled Gandalf.
Pages Navigation
Kitrazzle on Chapter 1 Tue 09 Jul 2013 04:41AM UTC
Comment Actions
therhoda on Chapter 1 Tue 09 Jul 2013 04:59AM UTC
Comment Actions
Beyl on Chapter 1 Tue 09 Jul 2013 06:33AM UTC
Comment Actions
TheChildGrim on Chapter 1 Tue 09 Jul 2013 07:13AM UTC
Comment Actions
LaffyTaffy on Chapter 1 Tue 09 Jul 2013 11:49AM UTC
Comment Actions
Fall_into_your_sunlight on Chapter 1 Mon 15 Jul 2013 12:37AM UTC
Comment Actions
fsponholz on Chapter 1 Thu 03 Oct 2013 02:51PM UTC
Comment Actions
aHostileRainbow on Chapter 1 Mon 02 Dec 2013 10:15AM UTC
Comment Actions
childatheart28 on Chapter 1 Tue 10 Dec 2013 10:49PM UTC
Comment Actions
AndyHood on Chapter 1 Wed 11 Dec 2013 12:19AM UTC
Comment Actions
childatheart28 on Chapter 1 Wed 11 Dec 2013 01:01AM UTC
Comment Actions
AndyHood on Chapter 1 Wed 11 Dec 2013 01:15AM UTC
Comment Actions
stroke8780 on Chapter 1 Sun 09 Mar 2014 01:48PM UTC
Last Edited Sun 09 Mar 2014 01:50PM UTC
Comment Actions
HangingTree on Chapter 1 Thu 30 Apr 2015 06:09AM UTC
Comment Actions
doff_school on Chapter 1 Wed 27 Oct 2021 02:58AM UTC
Comment Actions
Phantomwriter200 on Chapter 1 Fri 04 Feb 2022 01:43AM UTC
Comment Actions
Julesthegoblin on Chapter 1 Thu 02 Jun 2022 04:37PM UTC
Comment Actions
That_One_Girl_With_Wings on Chapter 1 Tue 30 Jul 2024 08:17PM UTC
Comment Actions
Phantom72 (Guest) on Chapter 2 Mon 15 Jul 2013 05:34AM UTC
Comment Actions
Fall_into_your_sunlight on Chapter 2 Mon 15 Jul 2013 06:02AM UTC
Comment Actions
darke_wulf on Chapter 2 Mon 15 Jul 2013 06:59AM UTC
Comment Actions
NovusArs on Chapter 2 Mon 15 Jul 2013 03:10PM UTC
Comment Actions
childatheart28 on Chapter 2 Tue 10 Dec 2013 10:53PM UTC
Comment Actions
Pages Navigation