Bilbo spent the rest of the night and the next day locked in his room. He remained curled up on his bed, falling in and out of sleep only to be woken by occasional knocks on his door by various concerned parties that he ignored. He felt rejuvenated but the sickness he held in his core kept him in bed. Time grew muddled; he wasn't sure if it was moving too fast or too slow.
He could've stayed there for days on end but a couple of persistent knockers finally burst into the room, rousing Bilbo from a light sleep. He continued to face away from the door, hoping they'd just leave, but instead they threw themselves onto the bed, jostling him around. A pair of hands grabbed Bilbo's arm and forced him onto his back so that he was staring hard at the ceiling. Fili and Kili looked over him, their curious heads popping into his field of vision.
Bilbo groaned. "What?"
"We don't know what happened between you two, but we know our uncle wants to apologize," Fili said, sitting back on the bed as Bilbo pushed himself up.
"Does he?" he said, unconvinced.
"Well, not in so many words…" Kili said, picking at the sleeve of his black jacket.
"I didn't think so." Bilbo frowned and rubbed his eyes.
"But we can tell he's sorry. He's not talking and he's barely leaving his room," Kili defended.
"How is that different from any other day?"
Fili and Kili glanced at each other, frowns causing their brows to crinkle. After a moment of staring and silent communication, they shrugged.
"We guess that's true," Fili said. "You'll have to talk to him yourself."
Bilbo shook his head, a wide range of disagreements sitting on the tip of his tongue. He bit them all back, swallowing them down where they couldn't slip out against his will. Instead, he flopped back onto his pillow and stared at the ceiling so he wouldn't have to look at Thorin's nephews.
"I have no desire to see him now or any time soon," he said in a resigned, frustrated tone.
"Bilbo," Kili began before Bilbo cut him off.
"No," he said. "Just… leave. Please."
A few seconds passed before he felt the bed shift around him as the two off them slipped off of it. He didn't bother to look, only listened as Fili and Kili walked out of the room, closing the door behind them. Hushed voices spoke to one another just outside, two more voices with Fili and Kili. Bilbo didn't even care what they could have been saying about him.
He closed his eyes and wished that when he opened them, he would be home, in his own bed, about to rise for another day of work. He wanted the simplicity back. But, when his eyelids slid open, he remained in the beautifully decorated room with a hole punched through the wall and felt the human blood thrumming through his system, giving him strength and power.
A wave of nausea just thinking about it hit him like one of Thorin's punches. The sickest part to him was that he remembered how it tasted and he knew he liked it. The thought of the metallic, red liquid coating his tongue, exciting his taste buds, dripping down his throat caused his stomach to contract in anticipation. He hated himself for feeling it.
A groan of self-pity stirred in his chest as he rolled over on his side, folding his knees up to his chest. He wondered how long it would take for him to rot away into nothing in that room, how many days without feeding it would take, when someone else barged in.
"Your presence has been requested, Mr. Baggins," a soft, calm voice said.
Bilbo glanced over his shoulder to see Balin standing in the doorway. Bilbo frowned, wishing everyone would leave him alone. "By who?"
"By Gandalf. The meeting with Elrond about the map is set to begin soon and he would like you to be there."
He sounded both kind and patient, being one of the few who hadn't tried to disturb him yet. Bilbo considered it, knowing Thorin would be there as well, but he thought it to be poor manners if he were to deny Gandalf who had helped him so much already. He sighed, rolling off the side of the bed to land on his feet. He looked down at his rumpled t-shirt and trousers before turning his attention to Balin, who was waiting for his answer.
"Thank you, Balin. Tell him I'll be out in a minute," Bilbo said, his voice rough and weary even though he felt wide awake.
Balin nodded with a warm smile before ducking out of the room into the hallway. Bilbo grabbed his messenger bag from the bed and rummaged through it for something to make himself look more presentable. He found a red dress shirt that he pulled out and slipped on, buttoning it up so that it covered his wrinkled cotton shirt. He tried to flatten out his black trousers to no avail but figured that their dark color would hide any problems.
He attempted to fix his curls with his hands as he left his room but quickly gave up, pausing when he saw Thorin's door. The frame appeared splintered as if Thorin had slammed the door with all of his strength but it still managed to hold up. He knew he wouldn't be inside. Knowing Thorin, he'd already be at the meeting, impatiently waiting for everyone else to show up. He considered keeping him waiting just for that reason, and he would have, but he thought it rude to do the same to Gandalf.
Gandalf stood just outside the door at the end of the hall, waiting by the balcony railing in a crisp, grey suit. He smiled as Bilbo approached but didn't offer a word of greeting. Instead, he simply started to walk and expected Bilbo to follow. He kept pace well as they walked in the direction of the dining hall.
"How long will this meeting take?" Bilbo asked, glancing up at the old wizard.
"Not too long, I should think. Lord Elrond seems to know where the hidden information lies," he replied, his cane clacking on the floors with each step.
"I hope so," he muttered to himself.
They turned a corner and approached a pair of ornate double doors, painted white and decorated with golden trees. They opened of their own accord as they neared, allowing them to walk straight through into a darkened room with a large, windowless opening in the wall and a balcony. Moonlight poured through the open wall, bathing the darkness in a shimmering glow.
He easily spotted Thorin in a back corner of the room, staring intently at a spot on the wall beside the balcony. Elrond stood by the railing, almost basking in the cool light as he waited for the meeting to begin. It struck Bilbo how out of place he felt. Everyone else in the room held some importance; Elrond and Thorin were both basically kings and Gandalf was a great wizard.
"Why am I here?" Bilbo asked, voicing his concern.
"You're an important part of this plan, Bilbo. I wanted you here and I know Thorin does too, despite the disagreement you had," Gandalf said sagely, glancing down at him as they walked further inside.
The doors closed behind them, causing Bilbo to jump a little. He turned to see two tall, beautiful looking men making sure the doors were secure before taking up defensive positions in front of each one. Elrond also stirred at the sound, turning to see the arrival of the final two guests.
"I don't feel like I'm that important…" Bilbo mused.
"Thorin sought you out for a reason. You have a vital role to play, if you chose to play it."
"Can't you just give me a job description instead of riddles," Bilbo grumbled as Elrond approached.
"Mithrandir, Bilbo, so glad you could join us," Elrond said warmly.
He looked as kind as ever, no trace of the previous night's event anywhere on him. No trace of the wolf within, only the man. He smiled briefly before guiding the two of them over the balcony, only pausing to beckon Thorin along as well. Bilbo moved swiftly to place Gandalf between him and Thorin to avoid any unwelcome side-glances or glares. They formed themselves into a semicircle around Elrond as they all looked out onto the green grounds and the starry night sky.
People and wolves wandered and congregated below them, running, playing, laughing, and talking with one another. Bilbo almost envied them. The life of a werewolf seemed to be a lot nicer than the life of a vampire had been to him so far.
"Thorin, the map, if you'd be so kind," Elrond said, holding out his hand to him.
Bilbo snuck a glance in his direction, noting just how pale Thorin looked and the darkness of his eyes. His expression was set in a permanent scowl, not enjoying having to rely on a werewolf for help, he assumed. He had no doubt that his own presence at least played a small role in it as well. Thorin reluctantly reached inside of his leather jacket and produced an aged piece of folded paper. He held onto it tightly, allowing it to hover over Elrond's outstretched hand for a few moments, before finally dropping it. His expression looked pained to Bilbo, as if he was using every ounce of restraint not to snatch it back.
He turned his attention back to Elrond as he unfolded the map and scanned it thoroughly. "Why is it you need this information so desperately, exactly?"
Thorin opened his mouth to speak but Gandalf beat him to it. "It's not a desperate need. Our interest is purely educational but we knew you'd be the best person to inquire about it."
Elrond's expression appeared distinctly dubious, eyebrows raised in Gandalf's direction, but he didn't question it. "Lucky for us, we have a clear night to work with," he said, spreading out the map on the flat surface of the balcony railing.
"What does that have to do with anything?" Thorin growled.
"I've seen craftsmanship quite like this in my many years and I believe what we're dealing with are moon runes," Elrond explained, though the only person who recognized the term seemed to be Gandalf.
"Ah, yes," he said. "I should've known."
"What are moon runes?" Bilbo asked since Thorin wasn't about to.
"Special runes used by werewolves and vampires alike in order to hide passages. They are written by moonlight and can only be read when the moon is in the same stage of its cycle that it was written under. Luck seems to be with you, Thorin Oakenshield. The light of the newly waning moon is revealing the information you seek."
Thorin pushed his way beside Elrond to examine the glowing runes that began to appear. He squinted down at them, trying to decipher them and it seemed to Bilbo that he was failing. He frowned at the map, causing wrinkles to appear on his brow and in the corners of his eyes.
"Is this… Is this saying that the door to Erebor will only be able to open on one certain day?" Thorin asked, stumbling through the translation.
"Indeed it is. The full text reads: Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's day will shine upon the keyhole," Elrond said.
"That's not far from now…" Thorin said, deep in thought. He turned away from Elrond, taking a few absent-minded steps toward the back of the room as his mind worked to think of the exact date. "That's just a little less than a month."
"Well, we should easily be able to get there in less than a month," Bilbo scoffed.
Thorin's eyes shot up, meeting Bilbo's directly, the first time either of them had really looked at each other since the incident. They looked dark, bitter, staring at Bilbo as if he were a simple child. "You know nothing of the coming perils," he hissed.
Bilbo fumed, angry at being treated in such a way for something that wasn't his fault. "Well, I wasn't exactly given a fucking outline at the start of this. I wasn't even given a choice. You're lucky I'm still here to help you."
Thorin bared his teeth and snarled, a deep sound resonating in his throat. Bilbo remained unfazed, glaring him down until Thorin broke eye contact with him. In a huff, he grabbed the map from Elrond and stalked out of the room, easily throwing open the heavy doors before the guards had the chance to assist. Gandalf turned to Elrond, an apology on his lips, but Elrond held up his hand.
"No need. I'm far more concerned about this journey to Erebor you seem to be on. The path there is perilous in itself, but what if Smaug still lives?"
Gandalf frowned. "We can only hope that isn't the case. I've already promised my help where I can provide it. What happens when Thorin and his company reach their kingdom is out of my hands."
Elrond nodded, his face lined and grave. "We can refill your packs before you leave. I'm afraid that's all the help I can offer."
"It's more than enough," Gandalf replied, beckoning Bilbo to his side. "Your hospitality has been refreshing."
"You're more than welcome to return," he said before turning to Bilbo. "Or to stay, if you so choose. We could guide you home."
Bilbo's brow creased at the offer. It was tempting, extremely tempting, but a small part of him still didn't want to abandon the group, even if he did want to be away from Thorin. He shook his head. "Thank you, but no."
Elrond nodded courteously as Gandalf guided Bilbo out of the room. He only hoped he made the right choice, that staying with them would be worth it. He looked up at Gandalf for some kind of guidance or indication that he did the right thing, but he kept his gaze forward as they walked out of the open room. He led Bilbo down the hall, back toward the bedrooms, but Bilbo stopped and ducked out of his arm. Gandalf paused, turning to stare at him curiously.
"I'm going for a walk," Bilbo said, flashing him a half-hearted smile.
Gandalf nodded. "Just be sure to get some rest. Something tells me Thorin will want to leave at the next sundown."
"Thanks for the heads up," Bilbo said before turning to jog down the stairs.
He walked through the scarcely populated foyer and slipped on his shoes before walking out into the cool night air, closing the massive door behind him. He inhaled, savoring the sharp chill that inflated his lungs. It felt like a breath of life, reminding him that while he was technically dead, he wasn't in the ground.
A few young wolves, one of black fur and the other two white blond, approached him cautiously, sniffing him out to try and figure out what he was. Bilbo smiled at them, holding out his hand like he would to a dog and one of them pressed its cold, wet nose to it, startling Bilbo. Some of the werewolves in human form approached him as well, visibly wondering about the vampire happily consorting with werewolves.
"Hello," Bilbo said with a shy, hesitant smile.
The two people, a man and a woman, stared at each other, each one looking no older than twenty-five. "Hi," the woman offered, her hair a dark brown with blue eyes.
"What are you?" the red-haired man asked.
Bilbo was surprised by his forwardness but considered the question. "A vampire, I guess."
The wolves nudged their heads at his legs and waist, still smelling him.
The woman shook her head. "Not completely. You don't smell right."
Bilbo shrugged. "I'm in the process of becoming one."
"Yet you are calm and kind," the woman noted.
"I don't know why they hate you all so much. You seem nice enough to me."
The two glanced at each other knowingly, leaving Bilbo feeling confused. "It's good to see a civil vampire."
The woman bowed her head to him and Bilbo did the same before the two departed, the three wolves trailing after them. They left Bilbo with more than a few questions but there was nothing for him to do about them. He couldn't ask Thorin and he wasn't sure if any of the others would answer him without Thorin's approval. He stored his curiosity and confusion away for another time and continued on his walk, the strong, assaulting smell of wolf clouding around him.
He walked around the front of the building to the side where there was a well-kept pond and a few stone benches ten feet from its edge. On the center bench with his back to Bilbo sat a man with short dark hair and a black leather jacket. Recognizing him as Thorin, Bilbo stood back and watched as he sat forward, his back curving in a slouch with his elbows resting on his knees. Thorin ran his hands through his hair, slowly and searchingly, as if raking through his thoughts with his fingers.
Bilbo stopped moving and just watched for a minute, not wanting to approach him but not wanting to go back either. Both instincts warred within him, causing an inner turmoil that screamed from every pore. He hardly felt surprised when Thorin turned around, his harsh eyes falling upon him. He stood up abruptly and within a split second, he stood in front of Bilbo, moving almost faster than Bilbo's eyes could catch.
"Why are you watching me?" he growled. "I thought you wanted me gone."
"I wasn't," Bilbo spat back. "I just wanted to go for a walk."
Thorin's eyes didn't seem as angry as Bilbo had expected. The ice blue color seemed dull, clouded over with worry and sadness. The space between Bilbo's eyebrows crinkled at the sight. Thorin hesitated, baring his fangs in a clear sign of frustration. A low growl rumbled in his throat, sounding like a threat, though Bilbo knew it wasn't.
"Fine. I'll leave you to it," he said shortly. He turned and marched away, Bilbo watching him go, but after a few steps he paused thoughtfully and turned back. "You know, you are utterly ridiculous."
His exasperated and frustrated tone threw Bilbo off. His words faltered on his tongue like a person without control of their own feet. "Wh-what? I'm ridiculous? Says the man who mind-controlled me into doing something against my will!"
"It was for your own good and you damn well know that!" Thorin shouted, his pupils growing wider, blotting out the blue irises in his anger.
"I would've been fine, I just needed to rest," Bilbo said stubbornly. His expression wavered, the anger on his face breaking for half a second. He honestly didn't know if he would've been fine and it wasn't something he'd considered in the moment. He never considered it afterward either.
Thorin's nostrils flared out and Bilbo could hear him grinding his teeth. "No! You would have died," Thorin said, grabbing Bilbo by the front of his shirt and pulling him in so that their faces were inches apart. "Do you want to die, Bilbo? Because I could easily tear a chunk out of any of these trees the plunge it straight into your heart."
Bilbo's eyes widened, his mouth dropping open by mere centimeters. "Could you really?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Would it be so easy for you? Am I worth that little?"
Thorin's black pupils receded and he released Bilbo's shirt. Bilbo didn't move despite being let go. He simply stared Thorin in the eye until Thorin stepped back, glancing for a moment at his own feet before turning and walking away. The moment that Thorin was out of sight, Bilbo's stone-like resolve crumbled and he fell to the grass, leaning his back up against the palace wall.
His hands shook slightly, almost imperceptibly, as he entangled his fingers in his hair. The burning anger he felt flared up inside him, feeding off one last burst of oxygen before promptly dying out. The empty space it left behind filled with sadness, both toward Thorin and himself. For the first time in a while, he doubted his own self-worth, Thorin's words floating around in his mind. A part of him, the rational part, knew that Thorin wouldn't have killed him, even if Bilbo said that he wanted to die, but emotions were rarely rational.
He sat in the cold blades of grass, knees drawn up to his chest, for what felt like a long time until a figure passed by him, pausing when they noticed Bilbo's presence. The pair of legs stood in front of Bilbo for a moment until they knelt down, allowing him to see Bofur's face, brows knitted in concern. Bilbo sighed, knowing what was about to spill from Bofur's lips.
"I'm fine, okay? Nothing's wrong," Bilbo explained, picking himself up off the ground.
Bofur stood with him, his face softening as he nodded. "Of course. Just out for a walk then?"
Bilbo nodded as he brushed the dirt from his trousers.
"Mind if I join you?"
"No," Bilbo said, shaking his head. "Not at all."
Bofur waited for Bilbo to take the lead and kept pace at his side once he started moving. They walked in silence for few minutes as they passed by the dark pond before walking around to the back. Bilbo felt wary of his intentions, wondering what he might want from him, why he would be taking the time just to be there, but he never spoke a word.
"What do you want?" Bilbo finally asked as they walked at the edge of the forest where a few young wolves bayed to the moon.
"What do you mean?" Bofur asked, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. He looked up at the glowing moon rather than Bilbo's face.
"Why are you here, with me?" he clarified.
"You seemed like you needed some company and it's not my place to pry," he said with a shrug of his shoulders before looking down at Bilbo.
Bilbo stared up at him, his eyes appearing warm and kind and he nodded, believing him. "Thank you. I appreciate it."
Bofur nodded with a smile and they continued on, talking about anything Bilbo brought up like how comfortable the beds were and how little he missed his job. Bilbo felt the stress of everything that had been building on his shoulders lighten a little with each step until they reached the front doors once more.
Bilbo hesitated, hand on the doorknob. "I think I'm going to head up to bed."
Bofur nodded. "Best to pack up your things beforehand. Thorin will want to leave as soon as we're all awake."
"Thanks," Bilbo said with a nod before heading inside.
He dropped his shoes off beside the door and walked up the stairs, avoiding everyone he passed on the way. After a few minutes, he was back in his room, shoving clothes into his bag before closing it tightly. He left it on the bed and lay down beside it, ready to leave at any moment, ready to keep going until it was all done and over with.
Sleep didn't come easily. The moon still hung high and the vigor of the night still rushed through his veins. He could've found something to pass the time, writing, sparring, or even a card game but he just wanted to be alone and far away from his thoughts. Sleep didn't come easily but Bilbo remained persistent and stubborn until it bent to his will and he dropped away, sleeping through the night from want alone and through the day from necessity.
A slamming on his door woke him as the sun was close to completely setting. Bilbo groaned, rolling over in his soft sheets, wanting to keep sleeping despite already sleeping for so long. He buried his face in one of the cool, soft pillows until the knocks occurred again, louder and with more urgency. Reluctantly, he kicked off the covers and rolled out of bed, his messenger bag firmly clasped in one hand. He dragged his body and the bag to the door before throwing it open.
Thorin stood on the other side, his face stoic as he looked Bilbo over. He appeared wide awake and ready to go, dressed with his backpack slung over his shoulder. "Good," he said. "You're ready to go. Go wait by the stairs with the others."
He didn't wait for Bilbo to respond before moving on to the next door, knocking fervently until it creaked open. Bilbo sighed, shaking his head as he pulled the strap of his bag over his head. He slipped by Thorin and out onto the second floor where Fili and Kili stood, talking casually about something that was making Kili laugh. They instantly shut up as soon as they noticed Bilbo approaching.
"What are you two talking about?" Bilbo asked, his curiosity peaked.
"Oh, er, nothing really. Fili was just telling me a joke," Kili said, rubbing the back of his neck along with a few low hanging curls.
Fili couldn't restrain a smile. "Yeah, it was a pretty good one. I'd tell it to you but I think our uncle would get angry at us."
A few unrestrained giggles left Kili's mouth before he regained his composure, leaving Bilbo more confused than ever. Bilbo shook his head, choosing to ignore them rather than press on. A strong feeling told him they wouldn't fully explain themselves even if he did push. They waited as groggy and wakeful vampires alike poured from their rooms on Thorin's demand until they all stood by the top of the stairs, awaiting their next instruction.
Rather than instruct, Thorin simply exited the hall of rooms behind the last man leaving and marched down the stairs, expecting everyone to follow. They did exactly that, following in a single file line, Bilbo at the very end right behind Gandalf. They slipped on their shoes at the door and walked out wordlessly into the early night air, the sky still tinged with red toward the horizon.
They didn't pause to say goodbye to anyone, though Bilbo did stop a moment and look up at the palace, saying a silent goodbye and hoping to live to see it again. The group merely passed through the arch and began to pack into the old, black van.
"Where are we headed now?" Bilbo asked Gandalf, knowing he would receive only silence from Thorin, not that he wanted to ask him at all.
Gandalf paused, looking through the trees as if he could see something on the other side of them. "We're headed toward the mountains. It's not exactly the safest route, but certainly the fastest. It should only take two nights, though we will have to abandon our vehicles along the way."
"Why?" Bilbo said, looking up at him.
"Because the road will become far too narrow," Gandalf replied as he opened the driver's side door of his car.
Bilbo nodded before looking at the open doors to the back of the van. He rolled his shoulders, working out any kinks before preparing himself for a night trapped in the cramped space. He climbed in after Nori and Ori, carving out a space next to the doors just before Bofur slammed them shut. The van vibrated as the key turned in the ignition and they lurched forward, driving through the arch and taking a sharp left onto a narrow dirt path that the wolves used on their hunts.
The branches slapped against the windows and the sides of the van as they slowly drove through and everyone in the back with the exception of Bilbo began to sing in a language Bilbo didn't understand. What he did understand was that it lifted their spirits as they belted out the song with smiles on their faces. Bilbo couldn't help but smile too.
They rumbled along as they sung from their hearts and the road grew narrower. After a few hours, the van slowed to a crawl until it finally stopped.
"All right everyone, we can't go any further," Thorin announced, his voice echoing through the van. "It's time to grab our packs and walk."
Without grumbling, Bilbo and Ori pushed open the van doors and they all piled out, packs over their shoulders or on their backs. They inched around the sides of the van, scraping past the trees until they stood on the other side, staring down a dark tunnel of a road. Bilbo couldn't fathom how mountains could be at the end of it.
"Are you sure this is the right way?" Bilbo criticized as Thorin passed by him.
Thorin stopped in his tracks and turned to him. "I'm positive. I can read a fucking map."
Bilbo shrugged, scowling at him when he turned his back. Fili and Kili both patted Bilbo on the back before following after their uncle, everyone else following after them. He felt tempted to start walking back, return to the wolves, return home, but he'd made his choice and he knew it. They marched on, fighting through the forest against the branches and leaves that smacked them in their faces, arms, and legs. They left behind tiny scratches that healed almost immediately and even Bilbo's slowly began to scab over right before his eyes.
A good hour of walking led them to an increasingly wider road and sparser trees. It felt like a relief to be able to take a step without bumping into something or someone. Bilbo could even look up and see a few stars peeking through the treetops. The ground beneath them turned from soft dirt to a hard, rocky path until he could finally see the base of a steep climb in the distance. The mountain. A mountain in the middle of a forest in Somewhere, Europe. Bilbo suddenly felt like he stood in a place where no mortals have treaded.
