Disclaimer: So not mine.
Even though he wanted to keep his illness a secret Bilbo knew that the Dwarves would figure it out eventually- he wouldn't be able to blame the harsh travel conditions forever for his tiredness and weakness in the evenings- he just didn't expect them to start figuring it out so soon though.
They had been on the road out of the Shire for only a few days before he was approached about it, and all things considered it could have been worse- it could have been Thorin.
"So how bad is it, little one?" Oin asked as he sat next to the Hobbit near his bedroll as everyone readied themselves for bed.
Giving the healer a sharp look he was about to deny that anything was wrong, but was cut off before he could voice the lie.
"I've seen the herbs you slip into your water flask and sprinkle on your food, I know what they do. I am a healer lad, I know my herbs. So I ask again: How bad is it?" It was only the kindly look he gave the small man that made Bilbo admit to what was wrong.
"It's the wasting sickness." He spoke directly into the large ear-trumpet so that no-one would be able to overhear, not that anyone was paying them any mind of course.
Understanding and sympathy bloomed onto the old Dwarf's face.
"How long have you know?" He asked, his concern apparent.
"A few months." Bilbo answered with a shrug, he really hated having this conversation, even if Oin was a healer and would know what he was going through without question.
"And you still came on this quest with us. Why? You should be snug at home-"
"And waiting to die? Thank you, but no. I would rather do something with the short time I have left, not wait around while my friends, relatives and neighbors count down the days until they can cart my corpse away and divvy up my home." Wiping moisture from the corner of an eye- he would not cry, he was done with crying- he looked into the healers kind eyes.
"Do you understand?" Sniffling, he swallowed the last of the tears before they could fall.
"Aye lad, I see your point. But why have you not told anyone?" The near deaf Dwarf seemed genuinely puzzled.
"And have you all leave me behind? I am already treated as a liability to the company, I don't want to be left behind as useless." Looking down at his hands for a moment he wondered if he should say the next part. Taking a deep breath, he continued.
"I wanted to come with you, and I came along in the full knowledge that I will not survive to ever come this way again. Whether I die by Dragon flame, or my body gives out before we reach the mountain, I want to die knowing that I did something- anything- worthwhile." Looking into kind eyes that held no trace of pity Bilbo asked his own question.
"You won't tell anyone, will you?" Oin was a bit shocked by the sudden question, but quickly saw the need for silence on the matter; at least for the present time.
The lad was not yet an accepted member of the company, if everyone found out before he was- especially if Thorin found out- they would send the halfling back to his hole to waste away alone. The Healer in him wouldn't allow that to happen to the small, fragile looking man- he had seen it happen already to too many others, and it hadn't been right then either.
"No lad, I'll keep your secret. It is what we Healers are good for, if nothing else. But be warned: I now consider you my patient. So you are to come to me at the first change you feel, good or bad." Looking away from the smaller man with a sad smile at old memories he continued.
"I have had some experience with the wasting sickness before- after the loss of the mountain many came down with it- I can help when your symptoms get worse, and I can help you replenish your stock of healing herbs when they begin to run low." Turning back to his newest patient Oin forced a smile.
"What do you say, laddie? Care to be treated by an old Dwarf?" Forcing a smile to his own lips, Bilbo nodded his agreement.
"In that case I won't keep you from your rest any longer. Sleep, little one, you need it more than most right now." With that he stood and left.
Bilbo watched him go and crawled under his blanket feeling a little better than he had in the last several days- months, if he was being honest. Oin was kind and hadn't begrudged or pitied Bilbo for his illness- unlike the healers and people of the Shire.
If the other Dwarves acted the same when they found out- though he doubted they would- then maybe this journey wouldn't be too bad after all.
HOBBITHOBBITHOBBITHOBBITHOBBIT
They had been travelling for weeks now and Bilbo was surprised that only five of the Dwarves knew how sick he was.
Oin had been first, and had stood true to his word and told no-one. He had even found Bilbo a new herb blend that worked wonders at fighting his tiredness, and tasted better than the last.
Bifur had been next, they had been out gathering firewood when Bilbo began to cough.
By the time he had caught his breath the toy maker was near in a blind panic over the blood on the Hobbit's hankie. It took some time to calm the man and explain, but eventually he got through to him.
Surprisingly- or not so surprisingly, depending on your point of view- Bifur had been happy to keep Bilbo's secret. He had pointed to the ax in his head, and made several rude signs that the Hobbit was glad he didn't fully understand, and then had nodded his agreement to keeping the secret.
If anyone noticed how protective he suddenly became of the smallest member of the group no-one mentioned it.
Balin was the third to figure it out. He had simply sat next to the small man and chatted until Bilbo realized that he had been verbally tricked into telling the Dwarf what was wrong with him. His only reaction to the news however was to pat Bilbo on the back and say:
"I've been a diplomat all my years, and I've helped raise those two rambunctious Princes, I know when someone is keeping secrets, and I also know how to get them to reveal them without realizing it. But I also know when a secret needs to be kept. Just promise me you will come talk to me if you ever need to." At the Hobbit's stunned nod the King's Adviser stood and walked away.
Ori had approached Bilbo soon after Balin had left and apologized for unintentionally eavesdropping, and had asked if it was true. When Bilbo had resignedly admitted that it was true he wound up with a chest full of sobbing Dwarf.
Thankfully no-one noticed, and Bilbo was able to calm the young scribe and answer some of his questions concerning his illness. Bifur had been a great help in calming Ori too, and Bilbo finally distracted the youngest Ri brother by asking for lessons on how to speak Khuzdul so that he could openly converse with his friend.
Nori was the last to learn of his sickness, but that was because he knew his little brother was keeping a secret and had decided to figure out what it was.
He had been surprisingly accepting of it all- he had only wanted to know what he hadn't been told, he didn't actually care what that was.
Though he was nicer to the small man in his own way. He would make an annoyance of himself anytime either Dwalin or Thorin seemed about to yell at Bilbo, and therefore took the scolding himself.
When Bilbo realized what he was doing and tried to thank him he only brushed it aside by saying that he was used to getting into trouble.
And now they were all setting up camp in the burnt-out remains of a farm-house with an AWOL Wizard.
"He's been a long time." Bilbo murmured to himself, and was then startled by Bofur's quick response.
"Who?" Turning to the behatted Dwarf he answered.
"Gandalf." Had they forgotten he tall Man already?
"He's a Wizard. He does as he chooses. Here, do us a favor, take these to the lads." As he juggled the bowls suddenly thrust into his arms, Bilbo wandered off to find the Durin boys.
And somehow wound up watching three troll about to eat their ponies. He couldn't even remember the signal he was supposed to give if something went wrong!
It was something confusing and about owls, he knew that much for sure.
As he listened to the conversation of the trolls a sudden wave of weariness settled over him and he knew he wouldn't be able to rescue the ponies the way he'd been told to.
But as the bickering continued on about how the cook was underappreciated he formed a different plan, something he could pull off- hopefully.
Just after one of the large, ugly creatures made a disgusting comment on how he wanted some flesh, Bilbo stepped out directly in front of them.
"Hello. I couldn't help over hearing your conversation and I was wondering if you'd like to eat me." Hoping these trolls were as stupid as the stories said, Bilbo waited.
"What?!" Said the one doing the cooking.
"What is it?" Said the one with the sniffles, he also seemed to be the stupidest one of the bunch.
"Oh, sorry. Where are my manners? I'm a carrier! No. You didn't hear that. I'm an Elf. Just a plain and simple Elf. So... are you going to eat me now?" Bilbo was pleased to note that the 'smart' one stirring the pot seemed to think itself clever, and was eyeing the small Hobbit smugly.
"Now hold on. You said carrier. Carrier of what?" Bilbo was about to answer when the dumb one spoke up.
"Does it matter? It wants to be eaten! Let's eat it!" Standing up as if to move to grab the small morsel, the 'smart' one pushed him back down.
"Sit down. I ain't convinced. Why would anyone ask to be eaten when they normally try to run away? Besides, he also said he was a elf, and he don't look like no elf." Turning back to Bilbo, the 'smart' one leered.
"I caught you out Mr. Not-Elf. What are you really?" Giving a large sigh for show, the Hobbit looked at them resignedly.
"I am an Elf, but I've been infected. It's why I'm so short with such deformed ears and feet. I was hopping you three would eat me and put me out of my misery, but you were too smart for that. How did you know that I would infect you if you got close to me?" As he watched a triumphant look spread over the face of the 'smart' one, and identical looks of horror appear on the faces of the other two, Bilbo had to suppress a smile.
"We didn't until you told us. Not very smart of you, eh?" Sitting down where he was on the opposite side of the fire Bilbo gave a small chuckle.
"I guess not, but that's just another thing the infection took from me. We got it from our horses and ponies you see, by the time we knew what was happening it was too late." Craning his head as if he had only just noticed the pen full of animals behind the towering hulks, Bilbo started the next bit as they now believed he was infectious.
"Say, are those my ponies? I hope none of you actually touched them to bring them here. That would be worse than if you were to eat me." As two sets of eyes turned on the third troll that had been silent until now an argument started.
"I ain't infected." The silent one started.
"But the carrier-elf said the ponies were, and you touched the ponies!" The dumb one stuttered as he backed away from the other.
As the ponies neighed behind him he gave a shout and jumped away from the pen as if he had been burned, he was already panicking.
"I ain't infected!" The silent one said again, now starting to become aggravated at the accusation.
Bilbo decided to chime in at this point.
"You see the way he scratches his arm?" As all eyes turned to the limb that was indeed being scratched, the silent one quickly dropped his hand and asked:
"What of it?" Making a tsking noise through his teeth, Bilbo shook his head.
"Itchiness is the first sign of infection. Next will come a powerful hunger." As if on que the silent one's stomach gave a loud grumble.
"He's infected!" Screeched the dumb one.
"I. Ain't. Infected!" Yelled the silent one, suddenly lunging at the dumb one with his knife.
Bilbo had to scramble back as the fight- that had quickly escalated to involved all three trolls- made its way over to his side of the fire.
The first one down was the 'smart' one, he had taken a slash to the gut and had flopped face first into his own cooking fire. His screaming and flailing as he died was highly upsetting to the gentle Hobbit- not to mention the sickening stench of the Troll's burning flesh.
Not taking any notice of their fallen comrade, the last two continued to fight and scream at each other for quite some time.
"I ain't infected!"
"Don't infect me!"
The dumb one was the final victor after his longer blade nearly severed the silent one's head clean off.
"He didn't infect me. I'm not infected. He didn't infect me. I'm not infected." He kept repeating to himself, over and over.
"He might have, you know." Staying still as the terrified troll turned on him with a mad look, Bilbo gave him a mock contemplative look.
"Hmm. Maybe he didn't at that. But there is only one way to be absolutely sure..."
"How?! What is it?! Tell me!" Pointing to an over hang of rock, and hoping that the troll was too panicked to notice the light of dawn creeping across the sky, Bilbo explained.
"Run in that direction, away from the infected parts of the forest, until you reach a clear stream of cold mountain water. You must bathe for at least three hours without leaving the water. That is the only way to be sure that you won't get infected." Nodding, the troll ran off and began to climb the outcrop.
At the same time that he reached the top the sun inched over the horizon and turned him to stone.
Surveying the carnage of the camp, and giving a jaw cracking yawn, Bilbo turned to head back to camp and see if maybe the Dwarves would let him sleep for a few hours since he hadn't gotten to that night.
As he stepped towards the forest the company stepped out of it.
Everyone had varying expressions of awe on their faces- including Thorin, who Bilbo had begun to think had no other expression but 'brooding'- and Kili summed up their feeling nicely.
"Mister Baggins? Did you just talk three mountain trolls into killing themselves?" Nodding at the youngest member of the group, Bilbo was about to say that it was a spur of the moment thing when a noise came from behind him.
Turning around he spotted Gandalf making his way into the clearing.
"Just what in blazes happened here?" He asked, and every Dwarf lifted a hand to point at the Hobbit.
"I just thought to frighten them into letting the ponies go and not eating anyone, I didn't know they would frighten so easily or become violent about it." Bilbo defended after another wide yawn. He really needed to lay down before he fell down.
"Fili, Kili. Escort Master Baggins back to camp and see that he gets some rest." Thorin directed, and soon Bilbo had a royal escort back to his bedroll.
As the company parted to let them pass the Hobbit could just hear Thorin and Gandalf talking about a troll cave.
He was asleep the moment he lay down, hard ground or not. He didn't even awaken when someone picked him up when they moved the camp to the mouth of the troll cave. He did wake up when the wargs sounded, though.
Sitting bolt upright he looked around disorientedly.
"Wolves? Are there wolves here?" He didn't get an answer, but the large beast that attacked a moment later was all the answer he really needed anyway.
Finding a sword just his size next to him, he grasped the handle without a second thought and stood to face the enemy- whoever that was. Before he could ask, a strange man on a rabbit driven sleigh came bursting into camp, and they were running for their lives across mostly open country.
As they slid down a hole in the rocks Bilbo wondered, for the first time, if he had made the right decision to come along on this quest; but then he saw the Elven city and decided that: yes, yes he had.
