Chapter 2
I don't own the hobbit. Sorry its been such a while. I have no excuses apart from laziness. I hope you enjoy though!
Bilbo was board. So very board. Initially the ghost had intended his game over Thorins life to be more entertaining but the Dwarrow couldn't seem to decide between being lovely and caring or being a moody child eater from an Orcs backside. The king would be so kind and get down to a pleasing 8 before being an absolute horror and bouncing up to 12. The numbers never went any lower or higher and was constantly predictable. Bilbo grew tired of re-writing the number so often and decided to let it change itself based on its own opinion. How it was a mark could have its own right and wrongs, Bilbo didn't spend much time wondering.
The game had began to fall to the back of Bilbo's head, only slightly resurfacing when he would overhear Oin and Thorin taking about his ever changing marks or when Kili would joke about Thorin being cursed. He didn't really care about it any more. Bilbo had decided to occupy a mining tunnel that was still never entered and in a great deal of disrepair. It was perfect for him. Close enough to his body -now a strange dried corps with hollowed eyes and grey, wrinkled skin- and yet also close to a large social area for Bilbo's entertainment.
The ghost had no want to leave the mountain, only truly feeling safe when he was with his corpse -not that he spent a lot of time with it at all, it held to scary a memory, made him feel like crying and vomiting at the same time.
It saddened Bilbo to note that no one talked of him. Not one of his travel companions wondered how their little Hobbit was fairing back home, wondered if he even made it home. They didn't even insult or curse him. He would have understood curses and insults but nothing? That simply hurt. He had put everything on the line to help the Dwarves – He lost his rights to his home, his respect, his friends, his life – and yet they acted as if he had shut the door in their faces back at Bag End and they had simply gone without a 'Burglar'.
Sadness turned to bitterness, bitterness to anger, anger to loneliness and back to sadness. It was a cycle of pain that only eased for a few minutes whenever Bilbo pulled small tricks or pranks.
One such prank had left the upper levels still smelling like strong perfume and covered in glitter. Bilbo remembered her name too, the poor dear. Lassik. A beautiful lady Dworrow who had been selling perfume to the Noble ladies to cheer them up after the long journey. Bilbo had been in a bitter mood and wanted someone to pay. Not dearly, just enough to make him laugh -and so he picked the large perfume tray out of the shocked lady's arms and threw one at her. He, rightly assuming it to be a ghost, ran for her life while Bilbo threw the little purple vials at her back. Bilbo laughed as he remembered her face, was almost tempted to make it vocal when a small whine hit his ears.
Bilbo stood shocked for a few seconds, listening to the noise as it became clearer. No one ever came down into the tunnel. It was too dangerous, to weak.
"Muma!" Cries the soft voice. A child.
Bilbo frowned and followed the voice. No matter how angry or sad or lonely he was, he could never ignore the plea of a child.
"Muma!" He was crying now for Bilbo could see enough of the Dwarfling to know it was a boy.
"Little one, come here" Bilbo cooed, kneeling down and making himself as visible as possible. He was glad to notice the glow alighting the child from Bilbo's body. The child seemed to scared of the passage way to flee from the Ghost.
"What is your name?" Bilbo reached out and grabbed the boys hand as he sniffed and wiped away tears.
"I wonna go Home. Can you take me to Muma?"
"Yes I can, But what is your name?" Bilbo, trying to look as normal as a glowing, transparent, colour- bled ghost could appear, picked up the child and began to walk, never once thinking about the strange image the two made.
"Its Heisen... At your service." Bilbo chuckled at the last words. Dwarowes with their strange manners.
"Well young master Heisen, How came you here? These tunnels are very dangerous you know."
Heisen simply nodded and lifted a small ball Bilbo had failed to notice. "I dropped it and it rolled inside. When I had reached it I was too far gone and got lost."
The sound of shouting began to emerge from the other side of the way, listing the boys spirits some. Bilbo continued on until he could vaguely see a group of figures running around and shouting. Most likely looking for Heisen.
"There you go. Next time, get your Muma to come with you, Ok?" The ghost placed the boy down and smiled as he ran to the exit, yelling a small goodbye back to him. Usually he would have turned around and left but something kept him still.
"Muma!"
"Where have you BEEN! I was so worried! What happened? Are your hurt?" Echoed a shrill voice.
"I went to get my ball and got lost but Mr ghost brought me back!"
"Mr Ghost?"
Bilbo knew to hide when the figure of the child and his mother appeared at the entrance to the tunnel.
"He was right there, Muma! Really pretty! Like a light he was too! I could see right through him I could but he could lift me up! Carried me back!"
The Mother didn't look completely convinced but not dismissive either. That could only mean trouble.
oOoGHOSToOo
Trouble came in the form of a short search party. Hardly anyone came as the path was still too unstable and they left rather shortly afterwards. Pathetic really but it relaxed the adults, now believing Heisen to have lied or hit his head and imagined things. What did shock Bilbo though, was Heisen's constant visits. Once or twice a week he came in, calling for the ghost and talking with him for hours. Bilbo, despite himself, enjoyed his time with the boy. He had forgotten how much he loved company.
The downside to the child was that now the tunnel had attracted unwanted attention. No one else ever entered but it wouldn't be long before someone started getting brave, or as brave as a 16 year old Dwarfling that is, and ventured in.
oOoGHOSToOo
"Hello!"
Bilbo didn't even stop to think that the voice could belong to any other that Heisen. He flew down the corridors and through walls to get to his friend before he got too scared of the dark and left.
"Hello!" Bilbo stopped, now only on corner away from the Dwarf that was most definitely not the young boy.
"Is their a ghost in here?!"
'More than one dwarf then' Bilbo mused. The voices sounded familiar though. Like a distant memory.
"Ghosty!"
"Shhh! It might not like being called that! Dead guy!"
"Quiet, Both of you!"
Thorin, Fili and Kili. Yes. He remembered. It had been so long since he had heard them. Pain shot into his heart. A cold anger that didn't want to be noticed filled his mind as the ghost bit back a cry. It was all well and good to watch from a distance some time ago and to touch them in a controlled fit of liveliness and anger, but now, after being with only one other and his own rotting corps -Bilbo was scared. Not of the princes, no. But Thorin. The ghost subconsciously rubbed his throat and squatted down. Fear and Anger. That was all he felt at that moment.