Healing
Chapter 1
Cool winds raked over the stones of the Lonely Mountain but they did little to cool the spirits of the victorious dwarves of the mountain. They had succeeded in reclaiming their home from the dragon and survived the war. Their king, Thorin Oakenshield, and his nephews along with the entire company had survived the war and were eager to set about the arduous task of rebuilding. Smaug had done substantial amounts of damage to the great mountain kingdom to fit his bulk. This did little to deter the dwarves, who were now in a much greater number due to the aid from Dain Iron Foot and his army. Long into the night the dwarrows sang as they relit the forges and cleared away rubble. The men of Esgaroth slept peacefully to the lullaby of the mountain.
Not everyone who lived in the mountain however was joyous and light of spirit. One Bilbo Baggins was very down in spirit indeed. He was glad that the dwarves had their home back and even more so that his friends had all survived. This gave him little comfort though, many dwarves still saw him as a thief and a traitor of the worst kind. He still was not forgiven for stealing the Arkenstone and using it to gain allies that aided them in the war.
Currently he sat on one of the battlements curled up with his knees to his chest watching the sunset with dull eyes as a breeze teased his copper curls. He had not spoken to Thorin since the war, and that was only for a quick apology. Bilbo wondered how the dwarf king was doing, he'd been a warg chew toy again as well as a piƱata for Azog before managing to kill the orc and his mount. Knowing Thorin, he was probably down in forges barking orders while hammering dents out of something. The king was cured of his gold sickness and was now a much friendlier person, even setting up trade with Bard. Unbeknownst to the dwarf king he also had trade and an alliance with the elves to, thanks to Bilbo who used his share of the treasure to ensure the alliance and trade. Lucky for him the gems that Thranduil sought had been part of his share and he was quick to hand them over.
Sighing Bilbo let his eyes drift shut as he wrapped his arms around his knees and leaned his chin on them. He was grateful for his current solitude, he did not have to listen to the biting insults and threats from the other dwarves. The thirteen he traveled with were fine but the dwarves from the Iron Hills were becoming affected by the gold and saw the hobbit as the enemy.
Bilbo tenderly rubbed his shoulder, he had a nasty bruise there from dodging a blow meant for his head by an angry dwarf he had just been passing. That was just one of his many injuries and he planned to keep them secret, no need for Thorin to get angry and start banishing dwarves he desperately needed.
A soft cough from behind him nearly had Bilbo out of his skin. Turning around he found himself in the presence of Thorin, King Under The Mountain. The dark haired dwarf lord was watching him with a soft, fond smile. Much like the one given to a younger brother.
"Here you are Master Baggins, I was afraid that you had wandered off and gotten yourself lost in the mines somewhere." Thorin teased gently. His blue eyes glittered with mirth and friendship.
"Lost in thought perhaps My Lord, can I help you?" Bilbo asked politely with a bow. This sent a twinge of pain through his ribs and he bit back a hiss of pain. A large hand gently clasped his shoulder and squeezed in a familiar fashion.
"None of that 'My Lord' business, not from you Bilbo, I would have you address me as you always have." Thorin's voice rolled over him like a warm breeze, "Please raise your head my friend."
These words jerked Bilbo upright too fast and his ribs screamed at him. Bilbo yelped and started to crumble to the ground, strong arms encircled him and held him up.
"Bilbo!" a pair of frightened voices chorused. Bilbo opened one eye and saw the two dwarven princes racing towards him and their uncle.
"Are you alright Master Baggins?" Thorin asked. Concern laced his tone heavily.
"Fine, fine, I just took a tumble down some stairs and bruised my ribs a bit is all." Bilbo said with what he hoped was a sheepish smile. Thorin helped him to his feet while Fili and Kili hovered around him like flustered hens.
"You should come inside Master Baggins, it is getting cold." Thorin said after he was sure that Bilbo was not to badly hurt.
"Bilbo please, if you would like me to call you by name then as my friend I would like you to do the same." Bilbo said with a soft smile, "And yes it is quite cool out, I do believe that winter will be on us soon."
"Then come and join me for dinner Bilbo, I requested a private dinner with the company tonight and you would be sorely missed." Thorin said with a smile. Bilbo returned his smile and followed Thorin inside. He felt lighter than he had in weeks, he didn't even notice the pain in his left leg were a dwarf had kicked him recently. Maybe things were starting to look up finally.
Dinner was, as always, a boisterous affair and Bilbo would not have traded it for the world. Food was consumed in great amounts, as was the ale, thrown across the table, and stuffed in people's faces in ridiculous manners. Fili and Kili seemed to be in exceptionally high spirits because they tried to slam a blackberry tart in Thorin's face. This produced a rare, deep, belly laugh from the King as he turned the prank around on his nephews who ended up covered in blackberry preserves. Bilbo laughed alongside his friends until he pleaded with them to stop as he could not breathe anymore. After the racket died down and the table was cleared of dishes the company shared a smoke and many recounts of the journey.
Bilbo even told them of his encounter with the Gollum creature and received many praises for his talent with riddles.
"Ye should have been named Silvertongue." Dwalin said with a deep chuckle. Bilbo scoffed lightly at this, he was no word smith.
"Aye brother, it would seem our burglar has a hidden talent." Balin agreed with a merry twinkle in his eyes.
"Oh come now, it was merely a few riddles. Nothing that special." Bilbo said modestly.
"And cooking suggestions to trolls." Kili put in.
"Reasons for not abandoning the company." Ori chimed.
"Bartering a war alliance with the men and elves, not to mention getting back the arkenstone." Bofur added.
"Speaking with a dragon." Thorin rumbled. All heads whipped in his direction, "Yes Bilbo, I heard most of your conversation with the Wyrm. I was quite impressed." Thorin chuckled. Bilbo did a great impression of a gaping fish before ducking his head in embarrassment.
"It's official, you are now Bilbo Silver Tongue! Master of word craft!" Kili exclaimed dramatically. Bilbo muttered a few things about dwarves and their need for fancy titles. This had the company laughing again before they all retired to bed. Bilbo and Thorin shared a friendly embrace before going their separate ways.
Bilbo was almost to his chambers, a group of dwarrows stood muttering off to his left. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end when they glared at him. The dwarrows shifted and turned so that they all faced him, with weapons in plain sight.
"And where do you think you are going Thief?" one growled.
"T-to my rooms, Master Dwarf. I was just going to turn in for the night." Bilbo stuttered a bit. Something about these dwarves sent chills down his spine. The seemed more aggressive than others had been towards him.
"More like off to the treasure rooms. Don't think for a second your forked tongue's sweet words have enchanted us." Another snarled. They stepped out into the torch light and Bilbo felt his gut clench. Their pupils were blown wide and frenzied, he had seen this look before. It was gold sickness, the last time he faced it he had nearly been killed. Now it looked like he was in the same situation, minus a dwarf king and a steep drop.
"I-I don't know how to get there from here." Bilbo said trying to reassure them that he did not want any of the gold, "Besides, w-w-what would I do with gold? I-I'm a hobbit! We have no love of gold or gems!"
"Lying filth! You crave it like that accursed dragon! Why else would you steal the Arkenstone!" A third dwarf spat. Bilbo swallowed roughly, things were getting out of hand fast and he did not see a pleasant outcome.
"Please, I want no trouble, I just want to go to my rooms." Bilbo pleaded.
"We'll do you one better." A dwarf with a large double headed axe chortled darkly, "We'll give you the best rooms one could ask for, the hall of your ancestors!" with that the group of dwarves launched themselves at Bilbo, weapons slicing at his head. Bilbo yelped and ducked under an axe, quickly rolling away he got to his feet and ran back the way he'd come. Three more dwarves leaped out in front of him, skidding to a halt Bilbo looked around wildly for an escape route. The only one he saw was a small dark tunnel off to his left. Seeing no other option he bolted down the small tunnel, threats shouted in khuzdul following him.
Bilbo zigzagged up the tunnel, chest heaving in the cold damp air. The clang of armor let him know that his pursuers were not far behind and based off their accents they were Iron Hill dwarves. He'd learned from Balin that dwarves from different kingdoms had different accents in their native tongue that helped to distinguish them from one another.
Pain seared through his shoulder, Bilbo cried out and nearly fell but managed to keep upright and continue running. The pain continued and he would soon discover a dagger embedded in his right shoulder. The dwarves howled in blood thirsty glee, like a pack of wargs they pursued him with greater fervor. Bilbo prayed that someone would find them and end this nightmare.
Panting heavily Bilbo continued to stumble through the passage, the dagger once buried in his shoulder now serving as his only weapon. More wounds covered his body as the dwarves had caught up with him in a good size chamber and forced Bilbo to fight back. He'd managed to escape and darted back up another tunnel but the dwarves were still pursuing him. Bilbo groaned and kept walking, one hand held against the left side of his abdomen, a dwarf had wounded him deeply there.
Bilbo felt himself growing weaker and dizzy from pain, blood loss, and exhaustion. He hoped that soon he would be able to find a sheltered place to hide and rest. No sooner had he thought this than his feet hit something could and wet. Stumbling back Bilbo looked down and groaned, thick, slushy snow coated the ground. Lifting his head he noticed that he was standing just inside the base of Erebor, the rocky terrain that sprawled out from the base of the mountain barely visible in the dark and sleeting rain. A shout from behind him sent the poor hobbits heart racing once again. Without looking back Bilbo raced out into the freezing storm, stumbling over rocks and trying not to lose his footing on slippery ground. He never heard the shouts of a group of miners, led by Bofur, intercept the pack of blood thirsty dwarves covered in his blood.
Bilbo just kept running as tears streaked down his face and icy winds tore at him. Oh how he just wanted to lie down, rest, and cry his heart out. But the stubborn side of him kept pushing his feet forward. Farther away from the Lonely mountain, farther from Thorin's protection.
