He couldn't say that he had been planning from the beginning to die for Thorin Oakenshield. Before the start of the battle, he had actually been planning on going back to the Shire, because in the time immediately after the defeat of Smaug, he had received a letter. The letter spoke of the death of his dear cousins, Primula and Drogo. He learned that they had left behind a son, of whom they wanted him to be the guardian.

So once he was exiled from Erebor, he made plans to return to the Shire and care for his little relative.

But all that changed once that battle began. Things got turned around and confused. The fact that he had his ring on to avoid detection only made it worse. He got it in his head that he would just wait for the battle to end. It was this to which he resigned himself and sat down on the ground, next to one of the many tents in the camp.

However something was drawing him towards the battlefield. He rose to his feet and began to navigate to where he was being called. What he saw when he reached his destination shocked him to the core.

Thorin was completely surrounded by orcs, fighting valiantly. He swung his sword at one after another, cleaving many of them in half, leaving a pile of dead corpses around him. Bilbo could see he was doing a fair job of fending them off, but he also saw something that Thorin did not. An orc was sneaking up behind him, sword raised.

The hobbit's world slowed to a standstill, all he saw was Thorin and the orc, and he knew what he had to do. Bilbo had no illusions that he would survive the wound he would most likely sustain if he managed to get to Thorin in time, but he didn't care; he had to try.

Without another thought, he removed his ring and drew sting from its sheath. He raised his short sword and ran towards the king. The scream he let loose to distract the king's attacker was full of rage and his vision turned red. The orc's sword came down as BIlbo's swung up to block it. The sound of the weapons hitting each other would have been deafening under normal circumstances but at the moment he could barely hear it.

Once their weapons parted, the orc came in for another blow and Bilbo met it. Their swords met again and again for what seemed like hours, but wasn't even two minutes. The red in his eyes faded and his muscles began to protest their abuse. Still he fought on.

He heard someone yell his name and then he made a fatal mistake. His attention turned from the orc and to Thorin, the one who called him. But once Thorin's face was in his sights, he felt a horrible pain in his stomach.

The pain made him want to scream, and he tried, but no sound came out. He realized that the orc had run him clean through with his sword. When the sword was pulled out, Bilbo fell to his knees and then face first into the dirt. He could no longer see what was happening but he could hear metal hitting metal once more. He felt blood seeping from his wound into the ground.

Thorin must have killed the creature because suddenly Bilbo was being turned face up and lifted into Thorin's arms. The king wiped the hobbit's now blood-soaked curls from his face. Bilbo looked into Thorin's eyes and was amazed; they were the clearest they had been since the beginning of the quest. No hint of gold sickness touched them, though concern shined out. Thorin said nothing at first, just stood, still holding Bilbo and began running towards the tents. But on the way he began talking to the hobbit to make sure he stayed awake.

They reached a healer's tent fairly quickly, however there was no healer within it. Thorin began calling for one when Bilbo grabbed his attention by grasping his hand with as much strength as he could muster.

"Thorin..." he began but was cut off.

"Halfling, please, we must get you a healer." he pleaded, but said Halfling shook his head.

"Thorin, it's ok," he replied, "there's nothing a healer can do now, just let it be."

"No, I will not sit here and watch you fade away when there is the chance that you can be saved." Thorin said this while trying to stand, for he had knelt next to the Halfling.

"Please, I'm already getting sleepy," Bilbo uttered, feeling oddly at peace with the whole situation.

A solitary tear began to run down the king's face, matching the sorrow in his eyes.

"But," Bilbo forced out, as it was getting harder to speak, "I would ask one thing of you."

"Anything." Thorin replied quickly.

"There is a letter in my waistcoat pocket," Bilbo told him, "take it." Thorin did and then Bilbo continued, "I would ask that you fetch the boy spoken of in the letter, his name is Frodo. I ask that you find him, and raise him here at Erebor, as it is very apparent that I will not be returning to the Shire." At the end of his statement, Bilbo began to cough and blood came to coat his lips. "Promise me Thorin Oakenshield," his words were now turning into gurgling," promise me this."

"I promise Bilbo, I swear on my life and by the mountain in which Erebor lies, that I will do this," Thorin said, and with his tears beginning to flow more freely, this promise came out followed by a choked back sob.

"One other thing,'' Bilbo began.

"Yes?" Thorin asked.

"Will you hold my hand? Until it's over?" Bilbo asked him with fear showing in his eyes for the first time.

"Of course I will," Thorin told him, anguish evident in his voice. He did as Bilbo asked and grasped the dying Halfling's hand in his, squeezing it as if to assure himself that Bilbo was still there.

"It shan't be long now," Bilbo said aloud, though whether to him or himself, Thorin could not be sure.

"Please Bilbo," Thorin pleaded once more, "let me help you. Just keep awake and I can go get someone."

"It's too late, believe me, I can feel it," Bilbo said to him and as he said this, he felt his heart rate begin to slow. "Just let me go to sleep, you promised you would stay until I did."

Thorin said nothing, still trying to control the sorrow he was feeling, he merely squeezed the Halfling's hand even harder.

Bilbo could feel himself beginning to fade and the pain melted away. His vision got darker, and for the first time, he truly let himself feel fear. He used his left hand to take hold of the hand which Thorin was using to grasp his right.

"Before I'm gone, my king,'' Bilbo said, his voice barely a whisper, "I just wanted to apologize, I know I was never the ideal burglar, and I'm sorry that I took the arkenstone, even though I did for the good of Erebor."

"My dear Halfling, there is nothing for you to be sorry for, I see that now." Thorin's tears were once again cascading down his face.

Bilbo breathed a sigh of relief and thanked him. He tried to maintain what little grip he had on his consciousness, because he had one more thing to say.

"One more thing, and then I'll be ready to go," he said as he felt himself drift even farther. Thorin leaned in to make sure that he heard every word that came out of the hobbit's mouth. Bilbo took advantage of this and, much to Thorin's surprise, pulled the king in for a chaste kiss.

"Thorin, my king, I love you. And I will continue to do so even when I leave this world." With that, Bilbo's hands went limp in Thorin's and the hobbit's eyes closed. Thorin froze and then let out a mighty, anguish filled bellow. He called for a healer, and one showed up soon after. Thorin then turned to calling for Bilbo. Begging his Halfling to wake up, to return to him, where he belonged. But his pleading fell on deaf ears and were of little use.

Bilbo Baggins knew no more.

For the time being at least.