My Blood on Your Hands Part 3.1
AN- Merry (belated) Christmas and Happy (belated) NEW YEAR! Sorry this took me so long to finish… But here is a new update. I ended up breaking Part 3 into 2 piece (possibly 3) since it was getting longer than I had anticipated. Plus I wanted to update so I decide to post in parts so you get more updates. Hope you enjoy it! =D
It had taken quite an adventure to get here but finally the company found themselves in Laketown, the hopeful rise of the Lonely Mountain a comforting sight compared to the doom and gloom of Mirkwood.
A few days into their stay Thorin asked for Bilbo's help in retrieving some supplies for the last leg of the journey. They held an easy friendship about them since the rock slide which had only strengthened when Bilbo ran to Thorin's aid during the battle with Azog.
So when Thorin asked for his help, Bilbo easily agreed and they were immediately on their way through the streets and alleys of Laketown. The fishy smell of the lake cloying in the air around them.
It was a surprisingly warm day and the two walked in companionable silence as they stopped along the market stalls here and there to gather what they needed. Most of their supplies were given freely by the people of Laketown, who were energized and excited by the king and his company's quest.
Soon the sky was beginning to darken into nights and the two companions had everything they needed crammed into packs that had been given to them by one of the merchants. They were making their way back to the inn where the rest of the company was when they turned down a darker alley and were suddenly attacked.
One minute Bilbo was walking next to Thorin, chatting amiably about this and that and the next he was grabbed by the hair and thrown to the ground with a surprised cry.
"Bilbo!" Shouted Thorin as a black clad figure rushed him from a darkened corner of the alley, dagger raised to strike. Thorin drew his sword in a smooth stroke, blocking the dagger strike and stumbling back from the second dagger that was aimed for his stomach. He was put on the defensive as the figure hurled two daggers at his head and followed it up with another downward strike. Thorin ducked under the flying daggers and just barely brought his sword up in time to block the second attack.
While Thorin battled one attacker, Bilbo was struggling against the other smaller figure that had thrown him to the ground. He managed to roll out from under his attacker just as they pulled a knife and were stabbing downwards in what would have been a killing blow. The edge of the blade barely missing his neck. Bilbo stumbled to his feet and drew Sting, gripping the hilt with both hands to steady the blade.
Quick as lightning the smaller of the attackers raced towards Bilbo a knife in each hand. Bilbo reacted on pure adrenaline and drew Sting upwards to knock one often knives out of the attacker's hand, but the forward momentum from the attack threw both of them once again to the ground, knocking Sting out of Bilbo's reach. The attacker used the momentum of their fall to position the knife into a downward stab, placing all of their weight behind it.
Bilbo shifted suddenly just enough so that the knife missed his heart and instead sliced through his shirt sleeve, barely missed his skin. Bilbo, still reacting purely on instinct, brought his arm up and slammed his elbow into his attacker's temple hard enough to force his opponents head to side. His attacker lost their grip on the dagger and was knocked off balance from the hit. Without thought Bilbo grabbed the dagger and thrust it into his opponent's side as they fell to the side from the blow to the head.
Meanwhile Thorin deflected blow after blow from his opponent. Every pause in the battle was a chance for attack. Still on the defense Thorin stumbled as his opponent threw one knife and drew another quickly in a side swipe. Thorin fell backwards as the thrown dagger flew above him, a hairsbreadth away from his face. He hit the ground hard, gasping as the air was knocked from his lungs, and stunned as his head slammed against the ground, the grip on his sword releasing on impact.
Time slowed for Thorin as the world narrowed to the downward strike of his attacker's dagger. Suddenly there was a flurry of activity and Bilbo appeared in Thorin's line of vision, slamming into his attacker's side and effectively knocking his dagger off course. Bilbo and the black-clad man landed hard in a tangle of limbs and flashing steel. Thorin scrambled to his feet as Bilbo cried out and was thrown off of the attacker, landing with a heart-stopping thud on the ground.
Thorin was torn between running to check on Bilbo or attempting to finishing the fight. His decision was made for him as the attacker leap to his feet and ran to gather his injured companion onto his back before fleeing quickly back down the alley. Thorin spared only a moment to make sure they were in fact gone before racing to Bilbo's side, praying to all the Gods that his burglar still lived.
"Bilbo!" Thorin cried as he threw himself down on his knees next to the hobbits prone form, reaching out a shaky hand to roughly pull the hobbit over. Bilbo lay on his back with his eyes clenched shut in what looked to Thorin to be a pained expression.
"Are you hurt, Halfling? Where is the wound? Tell me!" Thorin demanded frantically.
At the sound of Thorin's panicked speech, Bilbo managed to unclench his eyes from the throbbing pain that echoed around the inside of his skull.
"I'm fine, Thorin. Just a bump on the head and a headache. I promise. Now please stop shouting." Bilbo explained as the pain in his head forced his eyes to clench shut once more.
Thorin stared at the hobbit for a moment before nodding, an action that was lost to the closed eyes of the hobbit, before gently continuing to search his Hobbit for signs of injury. His eyes lock on a line of blood appearing from beneath Bilbo's tunic on his upper arm.
"You are injured, Halfling!" Thorin scolded as his examined the cut. It was about 3 inches in length and only deep enough that it was still sluggishly bleeding but not enough to be considered a serious injury. Without pause Thorin grabbed the bottom of his overly large tunic, a garment that had been provided by the men of Laketown until their own clothes were finished being cleaned, and ripped a thick strip off the bottom edge. He used the cloth to tightly bind Bilbo's cut before continuing to search his hobbit for further injury.
"Why must you insist on putting yourself continually in harm's way for me, you cursed Halfling! This is the fourth time that you have done so during the span of this journey and I do not like your continual injury at my expense!"
"Thorin, please! Lower your voice. My head is pounding and you are not helping! A stop your scolding you old mothering Dwarf! I told you before, I intend for you to make it to the Lonely Mountain in one piece if I have any say in the matter!"
Thorin grumbled at the insinuation that he was a mother hen, before gently examining Bilbo's head for other injuries. On the back of the hobbits head lay a rather large goose egg that was sure to be the cause of the headache Bilbo was complaining about.
"Can you stand?" Grumbled Thorin, slight worry still gleaming in his eyes.
"Help me up" Said Bilbo thrusting a hand in the Dwarf King's direction for help.
Together they manage to get the disoriented Hobbit to his feet and keep him there with some steadying. "Why were we attacked? And where did they go?" questioned Bilbo once he had righted himself.
"They were most likely thieves. The spineless cowards ran off once they saw we were putting up a fight. Come, we should continue on to the inn, I would like for Oin to look at that bump on your head."
Bilbo frowned at Thorin's statements. The attack hadn't felt like a robbing, but more like an assassination attack. It had felt personal. He shook his head once as if to clear it of the negative thoughts before starting after Thorin who was gathering their discarded packs. 'One things for sure' Thought Bilbo with trepidation 'I need to get Thorin back with the company so that they may keep him safe.'
The duo cautiously continued on their way, sticking more to the main streets where people were still milling about, rather than the smaller back alleys they had been taking as shortcuts.
One of the streets they turned down only a few blocks from the inn had what appeared to be a night festival taking place. There were a multitude of brightly colored stalls sprawled along the street, each selling different wares and food to the festival goers. There was a small street performance taking place at one end of the street, where Fire breathers blew burning spirals into the night air amid the applause of spectators and the shrieks of awestruck children.
Thorin spared a glance for his companion as they walked the festival street. Bilbo's curls were lit up by the glow of the festival lights. His eyes crinkled into laughter as his mouth crept up into a smile at the delighted screams of the children.
'What am I going to do with you Halfing .You keep putting yourself in danger at my expense and it has led to your injury on many occasions. I cannot have you die. I won't allow it.' Thorin's chest ached at the thought of Bilbo lying cold and still on the ground. Smiles never to grace his face again, his laughter forever silenced by death. The King's breath hitched at the thought. 'You will not die for me, Bilbo. You are much too important to the company. You are much too important to me.'
Thorin mentally paused at that last thought. It should have been obvious to him, really. He cared for the hobbit. The very thought of his death sent Thorin's mind reeling and his chest expanding with worry, fear, and anguish. 'I am a fool for ever despising him. He proven himself again and again to me, and I have come to cherish him in such a short time. I must keep him safe, keep him alive.
Thorin smiles gently at Bilbo as he watched his burglar smile at the antics of the fire breathers. AS Thorin watches Bilbo's smile suddenly fades and is replaced with a pained look. Thorin glanced around harshly for the person or thing that had upset the hobbit.
Thorin turned to scan the area and as he turned back towards Bilbo he saw the hobbit falter, then stumble and almost fall as if he were drunk. "Bilbo?" Thorin reached out to steady the hobbit but ended up catching him instead as his form slumped to the ground. Bilbo's breath was coming in quick, short gasps as if he had been running and couldn't catch his breath.
"Bilbo!"
The hobbit was weak in his arms, struggling to return to his feet. Thorin deftly flipped him over in the dwarf kings hold. Bilbo's face was ashen and clammy, his breath still coming in uneven gasps. The worst thing though, were his eyes, staring wide with fear up at Thorin. "What is wrong?" cried Thorin, desperate to wipe the look of fear off his halfings face. "Bilbo? Tell me what's wrong!"
Bilbo shuddered once, still staring up into Thorin's eyes fearfully before his labored breathing got the best of him and he passed out.
Thorin tightened his grip on the now dead weight that was his hobbit. What could possibly be wrong? Bilbo had no injury that he could see and there was nothing to suggest magic. But wait…the cut! The one from the thieves earlier that had to be it. Thorin shifted Bilbo's weight to one arm in order to pull away the makeshift binding on the burglars arm. The wound was raw and harsh, an angry red slash against the normal paleness of the Hobbit's arm. What was worse though was the fact that the center of the cut was oozing a noxious green pus that was mixing with the blood that still flowed freely.
'Poison! I should have known those scum would use something so cowardly and underhanded' snarled Thorin mentally. 'I must get him to the inn. Quickly'
He did not gather the hobbit into his arms but instead threw him up into the Dwarf kings embrace and against his chest as he raced to the inn where the rest of the company was located.
"Oin!" Thorin shouted as he burst through the door, sparing a frantic glance around the inns common room in search of the healer. "Dwalin! Find Oin!" He then turned and sprinted up the stairs to the room he was currently claiming as his own.
He gently laid the now shivering Hobbit in the center of the bed. Bilbo's slight frame was burning up with fever and quaking with chills at the same time. His skin was pale and waxy and his eyes appeared sunken and ill. The slash on his upper arm was still oozing green puss and was now almost translucent, enough to show the starkness of the hobbits veins against his skin.
Thorin gently framed Bilbo's face with his hands "Bilbo. Can you hear me?"
Nothing.
"Bilbo." Said Thorin, his quiet tone desperate in the oppressive silence of the room. Thorin stroked his thumbs down the Halfling's cheeks. "Bilbo. I need you to wake. Can you do that for me?"
Finally, there was some movement as Bilbo's eyes fluttered open. Blinking once, twice, before staring up at Thorin. His gaze was strange, with a foggy sheen covering his eyes. Bilbo's gaze was milky and unseeing as if he were blind.
"Bilbo?"
"Thorin? Thorin! Where- are you? I can't- find- you." Bilbo's voice was frantic and panicked, his words falling from his lips in short bursts in between shallow pants for air.
"Bilbo! Calm down! I'm right here." Thorin said, his voice somehow remaining calm and even while his mind was racing with fears. He stroked his thumbs down the hobbits cheeks once more to assure Bilbo of his presence.
"What's happening? Why can't I see you? Thorin! Why can't I see you?" The hobbit was growing more and more frantic with every passing second. His breath was coming quicker and shallower and the veins that showed through his next to translucent skin were pulsing with his increasing heart rate. Thorin had to calm Bilbo down.
Without a thought otherwise Thorin lightly tightened his grip on Bilbo's face before leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on his lips, abruptly silencing the hobbits cries.
"Peace, Hobbit. You must calm, otherwise I fear you will quicken your illness."
"Thorin-" Bilbo breathed out, shallower than Thorin would have liked but at least slower.
Before either of the two could say another word the room burst into a flurry of activity as Dwalin threw open the door, hauling a questioning Oin behind him, closely followed by a worried Kili and Fili.
"What's happened this time." Demanded Oin his tone disgruntled but focused.
"We were attacked. They were of little challenge to fight off and they left us with only scratches and bumps. The most severe of which is on Bilbo's arm there." Thorin had backed away from the bed when the others had entered, and he pointed to the wound as he spoke. "I thought he was fine. Until a little while after he stumbled and his skin became hot to the touch. The wound is dripping green and I fear that he has been poisoned. I brought him to you as quickly as I was able. Now his breath is labored and his eyes are milky. It all happened very fast" As Thorin spoke Oin was checking all of the symptoms he had stated.
Just as Oin bent to peel back the blood soaked rag that still lay across Bilbo's wounded arm, the hobbit let out a piercing scream of pain and began to thrash about on the bed. "IT BURNS! OH GODS IT BURNS! THORIN! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!" The last part of the hobbits cries dropped off into body wrenching sobs as he scratched at his skin as if to rip away whatever ailed him.
Thorin ran to the bed to hold Bilbo's arms once he saw the hobbit leaving bloody scratches where his nails bit into his skin. "Bilbo! What has happened!?" the last part of the sentence was directed at Oin who was working frantically to hold down the flailing hobbit and check his wounds. "Dwalin! Come hold him down! Quickly, lad." Shouted Oin above the screams and sobs of his patient.
With the help of both Thorin and Dwalin holding Bilbo down, Oin was finally able to get a good look at the wound.
"This is not good lads. Fili! Fetch me a bucket of the coldest water you can and one of the hottest. and a rag! Kili you follow him and bring me my pack. Be quick. We haven't much time. GO!"
"Who did this?" this time Oin's comment was directed at Thorin, who was quietly whispering things to distract Bilbo from the pain. His screams had died down to pained whimpers and cries, as Thorin lightly gripped his wrists which were pinned to his chest.
"I don't know. They attacked us in a side street. Two of them. They wore dark clothing and the night shadows hid their faces well."
After a moment Fili and Kili burst back into the room, panting harshly, with the requested items in tow. Oin ordered Dwalin and Thorin to hold Bilbo down tightly as he washed out the wound with the hot water, making sure to scrape as much of the infection out as he could. The whole process was rather terrible for poor Bilbo as he was left to scream and cry out in pain at the ministrations of the other, until it turned out to be too much for his mind and he thankfully passed out. Eventually Oin had the wound cleaned and a thick herbal paste was spread onto it before he bound it up loosely once more.
With that done he pulled Thorin out of the room and left Fili and Kili in charge of watching the hobbit and helping him cool down the fires beneath his skin by running the cold cloths down his arms and chest.
"I'm afraid there's only so much I can do for him unless I know what poison they used." Said Oin quietly once they were out of Bilbo's earshot "He is quickly worsening. I don't know if he'll last the night, unless we can figure out which poison it is."
"We will find it. He will survive. I swear it." Thorin promised, rage and worry battling for dominance behind his gaze. "He has to survive."
AN- As always apologies for any grammar/spelling mistakes! Let me know what you think of the update!