4
Bilbo was beginning to tire, searching for a stone he knew no one would find. With a large sigh he sat down and twiddled with a small object. Bilbo jumped when he heard someone growl.
"What is that in your hand?" Since the dragon was slain Thorin was acting more and more fearsome the longer it took to find the king's jewel.
"I-It's nothing." The startled hobbit clenched his hand around the item.
"Show me!" Thorin growled loudly.
The halfing's small hand raised and opened slightly, careful not to drop the large acorn inside. "I picked it up at Beorn's garden."
Thorin inspected the smooth surface, his voice softened, "You've carried it all this way?" The sickness was draining from Thorin's crystal blue eyes, making Bilbo smile.
"I'm going to plant it in my garden, in Bag End." He stated plainly.
"It is a poor prize to take back to the Shire, Bilbo." Thorin was smiling now, when he raised his hand up to Bilbo's open one, stroking the halflings soft digits.
"One day it'll grow. And every time I look at it, I'll remember. Remember everything that happened: the good, the bad...and how lucky I am that I made it home."
Thorin took a tentative step toward the halfling who looked down embarrassed. Calloused fingers found their way under Bilbo's soft beardless chin, lifting his gaze up to meet Thorin's. "Bilbo?" Thorin's husky voice whispered.
Bilbo gasped when the dwarf leaned in, inches from his pink lips.
"Tho-Thorin?" Bilbo stuttered. The king tilted Bilbo's head up ever so slightly. Bilbo was screaming in his head, DO IT ALREADY! I'VE BEEN WAITING A YEAR!
"Thorin! Survivors from Laketown are streaming into Dale. Hundreds of them." With Dwalin's voice Thorin and Bilbo jumped apart, the scowl returned to the king's face and the sickness was present in his eyes.
"Call everyone to the gate! Now!" Thorin growled trudging off without giving the halfling another look. Bilbo was trying hard to keep it together, Thorin was changing and not for the better, not at all.
"Master Baggins, come here." Thorin's deep commanding voice forced Bilbo to approach the gold sickened king.
"Y-yes, Thorin?" Bilbo was having a hard time looking him in the eyes as the others stared on. When he did look up Thorin was holding a beautiful silver chain mail shirt that shown pure white, even in the dark caverns of the mountain.
"You're going to need this. Put it on." The sickness in his eyes was only softened when they looked on Bilbo and it did not go unnoticed by the company. Fili and Kili were whispering to each other in the distance, along with Balin.
The hobbit started to pull off his coat, thankful he had hidden the Arkenstone earlier. Thorin's strong hands pulled the Mithril shirt over the halflings head.
"This vest is made of silver steel. Mithril it was called by my forebears. No blade can pierce it."
"I look absurd! I'm not a warrior, I'm a hobbit." Bilbo held out his arms to show how baggy the great piece of armor was on his small frame, laughing at himself.
"It is a gift. A token of our friendship." Thorin stated plainly.
Bilbo smiled up at a stern looking Thorin, his face lightened slightly. There was a lull in chatter from the other dwarves as they all noticed the king's change of stance around Bilbo. The quiet caused Thorin to glance at the others who immediately went back to putting on armor.
Thorin turned back to Bilbo, his voice low, "True friends are hard to come by." The gold sickness was strong when the blue eyed dwarf shoved the halfling down the corridor out of ear shot. "I have been blind...but now I begin to see. I am betrayed!"
"Betrayed?" Bilbo asked nervously.
"The Arkenstone." Thorin's eyes swirled with madness. Bilbo held his breath, waiting to be punished for his treason. Thorin leaned in further, his voice low and gravelly, "One of them has taken it." Bilbo exhaled, relieved. Both hobbit and dwarf look back to the armory, Thorin whispered, "One of them is false."
Bilbo touched Thorin's elbow, careful not to surprise him, "Thorin, the quest is fulfilled. You've won the mountain. Is that not enough?"
Thorin was not listening, "Betrayed by my own kin..." Thorin trailed off and turned to look at Bilbo when he felt his forearm being squeezed slightly.
Bilbo had never been so nervous, "No-uh." To be careful he changed the subject from the Arkenstone completely. "You made a promise to the people of Laketown. I-Is this treasure truly worth more than your honor? Our honor, Thorin, I was also there, I gave my word."
Thorin smiled fondly down at the hobbit, "For that, I am grateful. It was nobely done." Too soon Thorin's smile faded. "But the treasure in this mountain does not belong to the people of Laketown." The dark haired dwarf was starting to sound like Smaug, Bilbo was beginning to fear Thorin. "This gold is ours. And ours alone. On my life, I will not part with a single coin." Thorin's eyes were truly mad as he backed away. "Not one piece of it."
All Bilbo could do was stare at his gold maddened king, despair pouring off him in waves as the company marched two by two, fully armed.
"Tho-Thorin? What are you doing?" Bilbo was terrified. Thorin had a hold of the front of his coat pushing him to the makeshift wall at the gate. There was so much yelling but Bilbo's mind was only focused on the hate consuming Thorin's blue eyes. When Bilbo felt the mountain drop off he looked down, his eyes started to burn with tears. 'Thorin is going to kill me. He's going to kill me.' Bilbo was gasping for air to stay calm. "P-Please. Tho-Thorin, please." It came out in a wail.
"If you don't like my burglar, then please, don't damage him! Return him to me!" Gandalf stepped in front of a surprised Bard and a smug Thrundial. While Thorin was distracted Fili and Kili snatched the trembling halfing from him.
"Run Bilbo. Please go!" Kili pushed him to the rope that would lead him down the gate. Wordlessly Bilbo scurried down the rope and ran off to clutch at Gandalf's soft gray cloak, sobbing into the wizard.
"Will you have peace," Bard shouted, "or war?"
A giant black crow flew up to the gate next to Thorin, a sick smile spread across his face, "I will have WAR!"
In the distance there was marching, thunderous marching. A red haired dwarf trotted up on a black and white war pig. The elven army turned in unison toward the massive army of Iron Hill dwarves.
"Good morning!" The dwarf on the pig yelled, "How are we all? I have a wee proposition, you don't mind giving me a few moments of your time. Would ye consider...JUST SODDING OFF? All ye, right now!"
"Stand fast!" Bard yelled.
Gandalf tried to reason, "Come now, Lord Dain."
Dain squinted, looking for the old voice addressing him, "Gandalf the Grey. Tell this ramble to leave or I'll water the ground with their blood."
Gandalf sighed, "There is no need for war between dwarves, men, and elves. A legion of orcs march on the mountain . Stand your army down."
"I will not stand down before any elf! Not least this faithless Woodland sprite! He wishes nothing but ill upon my people! If he chooses to stand between me and my kin, I'll split his pretty head open! See if he's still smirking then!"
Thranduil smirked, "He's clearly mad like his cousin."
"Ya here that lads? We're on! Let's give these bastards a good hammering!" The dwarves were shouting in excitement, even the dwarves in the mountain gate threw war cries as encouragement.
At the sound of orc horns Dain said, "oh, COME ON!"
