The Elvenking proposed that Bilbo spend the night in his tent. That way their conversation could reconvene as soon as they woke. He would be provided a proper cot and many warm blankets, though they were hardly necessary with the fire roaring in the middle of the tent. The events of that night had drained nearly all of Bilbo's energy, but he insisted on checking to see how Gildis was doing before he turned in for the evening.
Bard had not spoken falsely when earlier he offered healing help to Bilbo, though it was not quite what the hobbit expected. Thranduil had agreed to accompany him on his visit and perhaps make some suggestions pertaining to the care of the injured man. Upon entering Gildis' tent they were greeted by Belemar, who told them that Gildis had stirred earlier that evening. He had not yet woken fully, but this was a promising sign. The Elvenking looked the man over briefly, but declared that it was not necessary for any further intervention at this point. Before they left to return to the Elvenking's tent, Thranduil gave Belemar a small pouch that contained a collection of soft green leaves. Thranduil told Belemar to give two leaves to Gildis if he woke, and to make him chew them thoroughly.
Bilbo's eyelids were drooping, but he was too curious about the plant to be tempered by fatigue. So, he asked: "What was that - the plant that you gave Belemar?"
"That was Acullico," Thranduil replied. "It grows on the boarders of my forest, but it has been an age since I have seen it in my realm."
Even in Bilbo's sleep-addled brain he could recall having read about the plant before. His knowledge of plant lore was quite admirable for someone who had not, until recently, strayed far from his home. This was due chiefly to the multiplicity of books he had read, but he also learned a great deal from his gardener and, more recently, from Lord Elrond. He remembered reading about the plant that Thranduil had, and remembered that it grew far outside the reaches of his grassy homeland and that it had great analgesic properties. The leaves grew on medium-sized trees and were accompanied by little pink fruit which were not very palatable. If you chewed the leaves it would almost instantly relieve any pain that you were afflicted with; very useful indeed.
Bilbo walked slowly behind Thranduil, and by the time they returned to the large tent, the hobbit was utterly drained. He did not think that he could even make it to his cot he was so tired. His legs felt as though they were made of lead and his head throbbed painfully. Bard and Thranduil stayed up and talked to each other with low voices by the fire, but Bilbo was scarcely bothered. He was certain that nothing could impede his sleep. But just then, as his eyelids began to shut, he heard a voice outside that said something that sounded like his name. Nobody else seemed to notice it, so he snuggled deeper into his blankets and closed his eyes.
But the sound came again, louder this time. "Bilbo!" The small party inside the tent grew suddenly quiet upon hearing the sound. "Bilbo, are you in there?" The sound was almost outside the tent. It was a familiar voice, so the hobbit sat up in his cot and looked with anticipation to the tent flaps.
Bilbo could hear the voices of the elven guards exchanging words with the being who belonged to the voice. Then it was silent and the guards entered the tent. "You have a caller, Master Baggins," one of the guards said. "A dwarf wishes to speak with you."
Bilbo heart gave a start and he hastily scrambled off of his cot and followed the elven guards outside. In the darkness, Bilbo could see a stout figure with his white beard wagging in the moonlight. "Balin!" Bilbo called.
"Bilbo, you must come quickly," Balin said, voice full of worry.
"What's all this about? And what about Thorin?" Bilbo frowned.
With the elven guards standing watch a short distance from them, Balin refused to say any more. "Never mind that, laddie; I'll take care of him. But please, you must come."
Really, Bilbo did not have a choice. The desperation in Balin's voice was enough to send adrenalin coursing through Bilbo's veins and shake him from his fatigue. There were presumably few things that would send Balin down the mountain in search of Bilbo with such urgency at such a late hour, and Bilbo guessed it likely had something to do with Fíli. He loved all of the dwarves as one loves his companions, but with Fíli being Thorin's heir presumptive he felt an almost avuncular love for the young blond-haired dwarf. Before leaving he darted back into the tent to quickly gather his pack. He fumbled through it to make sure he had everything and found that all was accounted for, albeit with diminished food stores.
Bilbo bid the Elvenking and Bard farewell, pretending not to hear them when they asked where he was off to, and dashed after Balin in the darkness. Thorin willing or not, Bilbo would do his best to care for the young dwarf. He could only imagine what terrible state Fíli must be in. Elrond had been very specific when he had said that Fíli would need extra attention and care. Puncture wounds, even when diligently cared for, are especially prone to infection. Bilbo's worry grew greater and greater as he hastened up the mountain behind Balin.
When they reached the entrance, Bilbo noticed dwarven soldiers set out as watchmen. Balin explained that Dáin had posted soldiers at the gate to the mountain to guard its entrance upon Thorin's request. They had been explicitly instructed by Thorin not to let anyone into the mountain who was not of his company or Dáin's army, and especially no men, elves, or hobbits. But Dáin, being of a different mind than Thorin, covertly told his soldiers that if the hobbit were to return to the mountain that he be permitted entry. It was not so much that Dáin liked the hobbit -although he did, in fact, like the hobbit- but more he knew that if anyone had a chance of swaying the mind of the King under the Mountain it might be Bilbo. So it was that when Balin came to the entrance with a hobbit in toe they passed easily by the two guards.
The withdrawing room was dimly lit by a smoldering fire when Balin and Bilbo entered. All the dwarves were accounted for except Dwalin and Ori. Balin informed Bilbo that since Dáin's visit, Thorin had become far more protective of his treasure. He had grown suspicious of everyone, so he posted guards not only at the entrance to the mountain, but also at the room containing the hoard. In fact, he was so suspicious that he would not even trust Dáin's soldiers to guard it, so the company took it in turn to guard the gold in pairs. This is the power that gold has over dwarven hearts. On this night Dwalin and Ori had volunteered. Of the dwarves that remained, only Bofur, Óin, Nori, and Dori were awake and they were very happy to see their hobbit. Everyone else, Thorin included, was asleep.
Bilbo had guessed correctly that the reason for his returning to the mountain was Fíli. The young dwarf was feverish and his body was racked with shaking chills. Bilbo could hear his raspy breath coming rapidly and shallow. When Bilbo peeled back the covers and removed his bandages he could see that Fíli's bruises had multiplied and were dark red in hue. The infection had almost certainly grown and spread to his blood.
"Sepsis," Bilbo muttered mostly to himself as he continued to look over the dwarf.
Granted, Bilbo's medical knowledge was limited, but he had seen sepsis before. His adventurous cousin Adelard Took had been afflicted once before he came of age. It was very uncommon for hobbits to fall ill with any sort of sickness, let alone sepsis. But, being every bit a fool of a Took, Adelard had managed to fall into a terrible state. Bilbo could remember visiting him while he was ill with his mother, Belladonna. The young hobbit had looked much like Fíli did now, gasping for breath, heart racing, and dreadfully feverish. It had only been his mother's knowledge of plant lore that saved the young Took an untimely death.
He turned to Balin, a pale and terrified look on his face. "If-if this is what I think it is, well, there is very little hope." The look on Balin's face nearly ended Bilbo; the sage-like dwarf was crushed and looked lost.
"You have to do something," Balin pleaded.
Bilbo sighed. "I will try my best, but I am not a healer. I think it is sepsis- a poisoning of the blood."
The conversation between Balin and Bilbo had drawn the attention of the few dwarves who were still awake and they joined their companions by the cot. Previously they had kept a bit of distance between themselves and their ex-burglar, so as not to get in his way, but now with grim words and even grimmer looks, the dwarves drew in closer.
"What is the matter? Will the lad be okay?" Bofur asked.
"I-I don't know," Bilbo said, downtrodden. "I will need some other supplies before I can even try…"
"What is it that you need?" Óin asked loudly. He was quickly shushed by Balin. "I'm sorry, I don't hear well." He explained, not for the first time.
"The last thing we need is to wake Thorin!" Balin scolded in a harsh whisper, and with that everyone quieted down.
The first thing Bilbo needed was some water, and Óin was quick to fetch it for him. He wasted no time on the lesser wounds, and instead turned immediately to the evident source of the infection: the puncture wound. It was still packed with the Heilleir that Elrond had put there shortly before his departure. It was all dry now and jet black, looking very much like the Heilleir they had removed from Thorin's wound. Bilbo pulled the dried black leaves out of Fíli's chest to find that his worst fear had come to life: the wound was very much infected. At the bottom of the puncture was a collection of whiteish-yellow pus. Not good at all, Bilbo thought hopelessly as he stared down at the mess of Fíli's chest.
Bilbo turned away, took a deep breath, and reached for his pack. As painful as this was, as much as Bilbo just wanted to hug the dwarf to him and mourn his inevitable loss, Fíli was not yet dead. As long as Fíli was alive Bilbo pledged to himself that he would do everything in his power to save the dwarf. From his pack he gathered some of the remaining Heilleir and mixed it in with the water that Óin had brought. He doused the puncture wound with the water mix in an attempt to flush out the infection that had already taken hold. It seemed to be working quicker and better than Bilbo ever could have hoped. With the pus flushed out the redness began to recede and a smile slowly formed on Bilbo's face.
Winter nights were deathly cold, and this particular night was no exception. As Bilbo continued to cleanse Fíli's wounds he was aware of how long the dwarf's bare skin had been exposed to the chilly air. The withdrawing room was far warmer than the outside air, with the fire blazing and the number of other bodies producing heat, but it was still too cold to be exposed for long. Bilbo applied some adeps lanea to the puncture site and bandaged it quickly before returning the blankets to their proper place.
The hobbit could not have been in the room for even an hour, but with every passing minute he grew more fearful that Thorin would wake. He glanced over at Kíli and found with joy that the dwarf appeared in very good health. Regretfully, he dared not linger to examine Fíli's younger brother at the risk of pushing his luck. So, Bilbo gathered up his pack, bid farewell to his friends, and followed Balin out of the withdrawing room. Before getting too far down the hall, Bilbo cast a longing glance back at Thorin and sighed. He missed his friend dearly and wished for him to be returned to his proper mind.
When they reached the gates Bilbo could stand it no longer. He was desperate for some news of how Thorin was doing and where his mind was. "How is Thorin?" Bilbo asked plainly, not sure how else to start the conversation.
Balin pulled him back from the gates enough so that the guards would not hear them speak, before he addressed Bilbo's questions. "Thorin is not well, Bilbo. Overall he seems to be getting stronger; he has even been up to walk around quite well. But even though his shoulder is healing it hurts him a lot. Of course, he would never say anything, but I have known Thorin my whole life! I can see him wince when he moves and I can hear the hitch in his breathing. He has put on a strong front for Dáin and the rest of us, but there is no way to hide it from an old dwarf like me."
"And what of his mind? Has he remembered anything? " Bilbo asked, though he felt he knew the answer.
"I'm afraid not," Balin said with an exasperated sigh. "Thorin's resolve seems to grow stronger as his body does. Nothing Dáin has said will sway him either. He is a good dwarf, and is of our mind. That is, he does not want to go to war with the elves and men."
An unsettled feeling gripped Bilbo. "But, are you saying that Thorin does?"
"I have already said too much," Balin scolded himself. "Just know that we are trying to keep it from coming to that."
Bilbo was not terribly pleased with that answer, but his fatigue was once again catching up with him. Instead of pressing the issue further, he said, "I will return tomorrow night at the same time. Meet me by the gate so I may know that it is safe." And with that, Bilbo bid a final farewell to Balin and descended back to the camp of men.
The elves that were guarding the Elvenking's tent let Bilbo enter without question. Bard and Thranduil were still awake when the hobbit walked in. They tried to question him as to what business was required of him, but he waved them off, mumbling "too tired", and fell into the cot. He was taken almost immediately by sleep and he passed a dark and dreamless night.
…
Despite the late hour that Bilbo succumbed to sleep he woke bright and early with the rising of the sun. A small breakfast was laid out on the table. Bard and Thranduil were once again in conversation with each other, and Bilbo wondered if either of them had had a chance to get some sleep. Bilbo stretched in his cot and then stood to join the others for breakfast. He silently settled himself in a seat by Bard and tucked into some brown bread that was on the table.
"Where did you disappear to last night, Master Hobbit?" Bard asked.
"Oh, nowhere really," Bilbo lied as he took another bite of bread.
"This is no time to be surreptitious," Thranduil's voice was tight and controlled. "There have been rumours of possible attacks from the dwarves. You were summoned by a dwarf last night and if you followed him to the mountain I would ask of you to tell us all you know."
"As I said before, you need not worry. Dáin is of a different mind than Thorin. He would not send his troops after the armies they fought alongside scarcely a fortnight ago!" Bilbo was barely convinced of this himself, but he hoped that his comment would ease the minds of Thranduil and Bard.
"And you would know that because you spoke to him last night?" Thranduil pressed.
Bilbo remembered what an awful state Fíli was in on his most recent foray into the mountain. He knew that he would need the help of Thranduil and Bard to heal the dwarf, which would mean that he needed to be honest. "No. I did go to the mountain last night, but I did not speak with Dáin."
"Go on."
"One of my friends is very ill and needed my help. It was Balin who told me that Dáin would not go to war."
"Is that so?"
"Yes, it is," Bilbo replied. "As I have said before, I may be a burglar, but I am an honest one. And have I not been honest in all my dealings with you?"
"You speak the truth, but your loyalties lie with the dwarves. Why is it that we should believe you now?" Thranduil asked, ever skeptical.
With some reluctance, Bilbo answered: "Because I need your help."
"And what is it that you seek from us?"
"My friend is dying, that much was clear when I saw him last night. It's a poisoning of the blood. The plants that I have had helped at one point, but their store is almost used up and my friend is still dying!" More force was growing in Bilbo's voice as he spoke, thinking of Fíli and Kíli and Thorin. "I do not wish war upon anyone, man, elf, or dwarf. I only want peace in this land and for my friends to be happy. I think if you show some compassion Thorin will see it all in a new light."
Thranduil found the hobbit's claim of Thorin turning the other cheek at a show of compassion to be dubious. "What, pray tell, could be more compassionate than fighting alongside one another in battle, protecting a mountain that is not even ours?"
"Yes, yes, but Thorin doesn't remember that. He will know this and remember this."
"So, you have spoken to Thorin Oakenshield, O! King under the Mountain, and he has said that this will be so?"
"Well, no, but-"
"That is what I thought," Thranduil cut Bilbo off mid-speech. "Now that Thorin is awake, we shall plan to march on the mountain."
"No," said Bard. "After all that Bilbo has done for my fellow men and for all the good he has already done in the mess we should help him in this small way. I grow impatient for what is rightfully mine, for what will help my people, but marching on the mountain and starting a war will do us no good!"
Thranduil said nothing, and kept his face a barely disguised mask of contempt.
"Well, I am not going to sit about arguing with the lot of you while there are people that need my help," Bilbo said, breaking the tense silence that had stretched long between them. "I surely hope that unlike Thorin you will see sense! I am going to check on Gildis if you care to find me." And with that, the hobbit stormed out of the tent, more frustrated than ever.
…
By the time Bilbo reached Gildis' tent, much of his frustration had ebbed. A great deal of his aggravation was due to how tired he was. He had not had a truly good sleep since the company had been in Lake-town. Another factor that added to his agitated state was that he wanted to leave this place and return home. It seemed to be an endless pit of disappointment and enmity. Bilbo knew in his heart there was no way he could leave before he saw the three kingdoms at peace. He could not possibly leave before he made his own peace with Thorin.
Thorin, Bilbo's heart hurt at the thought of the dwarf he loved, the dwarf that now apparently hated him. When his memory returns it will be different… But even though Bilbo hoped, he was not certain it would be so. They had had many moments of camaraderie on the journey to Erebor, but after the sticky business with the Arkenstone Thorin had treated him much the same way he was treating him now. If only he could make them all see sense, then maybe there would be some hope of repairing their fractured friendship.
The hobbit pushed aside thoughts of Thorin and love and friendship as he walked into Gildis' tent. Belemar was nowhere to be seen. Given that it was still early, Bilbo thought that he must still be sleeping. The hobbit thought that even if he had not had the best sleep, he should allow his friend to sleep for as long as possible. He walked over to Gildis' side to examine him. There was very clearly a change in the man, which pleased the hobbit greatly. The injured soul was still a bit feverish, but his breathing had evened out and returned to a normal rate.
Bilbo was about to leave the tent in search of water to cleanse his wounds when he noticed movement on the cot. Gildis was beginning to stir! The hobbit rushed to his bedside to see dark brown eyes flutter open. The man groaned in pain and shut his eyes tightly. The plant, Bilbo thought and ran for Belemar's tent.
The hobbit burst into the other man's tent in an excited flurry. "Belemar, Gildis is awake! Do you still have the leaves that the Elvenking gave you?"
Belemar, who was slightly surprised at the suddenness of Bilbo's appearance, nodded his affirmation. "I have it with me. Is Gildis awake?"
"Yes," Bilbo said joyfully. "But he appears to be in pain. I am sure he will appreciate the Acullico."
Belemar had just woken up, so he took a moment to pile more layers on top of the clothes he had slept in. When he was fully dressed, the pair returned to Gildis' tent to find the man groaning quietly in pain.
"Gildis," Belemar greeted softly as he approached the bedside.
The man on the cot looked up. Recognition flooded his senses, and then joy came upon his face. "Belemar?"
"Yes, it is me," a smile swept across Belemar's face. Gildis smiled back at first, then winced slightly as a spike of pain ripped through his arm. "Here, chew these, it will make you feel better." Belemar reached into the satchel and placed two Acullico leaves in Gildis' mouth.
After a moment of chewing the pained crease in Gildis' forehead smoothed and a small smile found its way onto his face. "Thank you," Gildis said with a raspy voice. "I had… woken once before… but it was… too painful. I slept."
It was evident that speaking was a great effort for Gildis, so Belemar said, "Rest again, Gildis, there is no need to talk."
Bilbo knew that Bard would be overjoyed to hear that his friend was awake and well, so Bilbo went off to find him. He did not want his happiness at the waking of Gildis to be disturbed at all by the inevitable confrontation he would have when he once again faced the Elvenking and Bard, so he tried to push the thought away as he walked toward the largest tent in the encampment. Much to his surprise, Bilbo met Bard and Thranduil halfway back to their tent.
"Master Hobbit, we were on our way to find you," Bard said. "What has you returning from Gildis' tent so soon?"
"It is good news that finds me meeting you here," Bilbo replied, smiling. "Gildis is awake."
"How marvelous!" Bard exclaimed. "It is well that we found you and this joyous news," he said to the hobbit before hasting toward the tent of his friend.
Bilbo smiled sadly as he watched Bard nearly run to his friend. That was how he had felt when Thorin woke, but his own situation had come to a less fortunate end… "What has come of your discussion?" Bilbo asked the Elvenking, looking for a distraction from his thoughts of Thorin.
Thranduil pulled two satchels from his raiment and handed them each to Bilbo. "One is Acuillico, a powerful analgesic plant. The other is tenebrea, it will take care of the sepsis in your dwarf-friend."
Bilbo was elated that the Elvenking had decided to help. He opened the satchel to peak at the tenebrea and found that it was not a plant like he had expected, but a powder. "I am familiar with Acullico, but I know nothing of this powder. How do you use it?"
"Take a pinch a put it under the tongue. That way it is absorbed more quickly into the bloodstream and not damaged by the stomach acid. This needs to be done twice a day," Thranduil explained.
"Thank you, Thranduil," Bilbo said, hoping his voice conveyed his deep sense of appreciation.
The Elvenking said nothing, but nodded to indicate his acknowledgement.
"And what of marching on the mountain?" Bilbo asked.
"For now it will wait," Thranduil replied. "You have been of great service and it is in our vested interest not to stray from your advice on matters concerning these dwarves. But know, Master Hobbit, that I may have tarried long, but not for much longer."
After their exchange he began walking away from Bilbo and back to his tent. Bard may have convinced him to help the hobbit, but he was evidently not happy about it. Helping the hobbit meant helping the dwarves and that was not high on his list of priorities. But it was difficult to argue with Bard's logic, having been reminded of the things Bilbo had done for them, from stealing the Arkenstone and handing it over, to healing the men who had sustained injury in battle. But on top of all of that Thranduil knew that he really had no claim at all to the treasure under the mountain. The only one who owed Thranduil anything was Bard, for the elves had helped build shelters for the people of Esgaroth. Bard had a suspicion that Thranduil was on a privateering mission when he came to the foot of the Lonely Mountain, but he did not voice it. After all, without the help of the sylvan elves most of the people of Lake-town likely would have died from exposure by now.
…
There were no further discussions held among Bard, Thranduil, and Bilbo that day. Bard was far too occupied with his newly wakened friend and Bilbo had taken the opportunity to see to some of the other injured men in the camp. Even though Bilbo was occupied with the endless stream of injured men, he was feeling more and more distracted by the approaching night. Soon he would return to the mountain and be able to see his friends again. And hopefully, with the gifts of the Elvenking, be able to set Fíli on the path to recovery.
At length night fell, but it would still be some time before it was safe to enter the mountain. Bilbo was alone in the tent; Bard was still with Gildis and he had no idea where Thranduil had gone off to. Time passed slowly with no one to talk to. The hobbit nibbled some lembas and paced around to try to pass time. At length he decided it was a safe hour to return to the mountain. He gathered his pack, which now had Acullico and tenebrea alongside the Heilleir and what remained of his food stores.
When Bilbo reached the front gate he noticed that Balin was not yet there. The hobbit nestled himself against a wall of rocks, somewhere that he could still see the entrance, but would remain unseen to anyone else. He slipped his magic ring on as a precaution, even though it was unlikely that he would be spotted. Bilb waited for what felt to him like hours, when in reality only thirty minutes had passed before Balin appeared. Bilbo hurried over to the gate at the first sight of the dwarf. He remembered to slip off his ring before reaching the gates so they would actually be able to see him. When Bilbo arrived Balin gave a nod to the dwarves who were on guard that night as he hustled passed with the hobbit.
"I have a bit of good news," Bilbo whispered as they walked through the halls. "I acquired something that I hope will clear Fíli's sepsis."
"Excellent!" Balin whispered his reply. "I have some good news of my own. Well, I'll let him tell you when we get there." The white haired dwarf winked at Bilbo when the hobbit looked at him wanting more of an answer.
Bilbo was confused, but said no more as they had almost reached the withdrawing room. Upon entering the room he learned what Balin's surprise was: Kíli was awake! The youngest of the line of Durin was sitting in a chair next to his brother and stroking the blonde dwarf's hair. In the light of the fire Kíli looked just as healthy as all the other dwarves. The only obvious thing that gave away his deteriorated health was the bandage that was still wrapped around his head.
Bilbo gasped in relief and joy. Upon hearing the sound, Kíli turned his head and saw their former burglar standing in the doorway. "Bilbo!" Kíli exclaimed, and then promptly clapped a hand over his mouth. He anxiously glanced over at Thorin's cot to make sure the dwarf was still asleep. When he was satisfied that Thorin was not roused by his enthusiasm, he waved Bilbo over.
The hobbit walked silently and quickly over and was immediately crushed into the dwarf's chest in a suffocating hug. "It is so good to see you."
"It is good to see you too Kíli," Bilbo replied when he was set free. "How are you?" He asked as he quickly scanned the dwarf. It seemed like a lot to Bilbo to go from unresponsive on a cot to sitting up and talking. But then again dwarves had surprised him more than that in the past.
"I was in and out of waking for a bit, but I'm well now, thanks to you!" Kíli beamed at Bilbo. But like the wind blowing out a candle Kíli's expression shifted quickly from one of joy to one of sorrow. "But Fíli… Fíli is not well. You have to help him, like you helped me."
"Our Bilbo's managed to bring both you and Thorin back from the brink o' death, so I 'magine he will do the same for Fíli," Bofur voiced his confidence in Bilbo's abilities.
"I think we all should keep our voices down," Balin whispered harshly at the group. "We can't risk-"
"What is going on here?" Thorin asked, cutting Balin off. He sat up in his cot, having been roused by the many voices, and looked around at the scene in front of him. When he saw Bilbo fire came into his eyes. "I have asked you to leave! I could not have been clearer. Do not take the time to explain why this has happened, just be gone with you!"
"No, Thorin," Kíli spoke up, though his voice was still weak. "Fíli is dying; we need Bilbo's skills to heal him!"
"Drat the halfling!" Thorin growled.
"That halfling is the only reason you are alive!" Balin challenged. "He has risked a lot for you, and now he is only trying to help."
"Enough!" Thorin roared as he stood up. He was about to begin another brash attack of words on the hobbit when a terrible ache ripped through his shoulder, stopping him.
Bilbo saw the pained look on Thorin's face. "Let me help you," pleaded the hobbit.
"I do not need your help," Thorin seethed at him.
In the light of the fire, something glittered under Bilbo's waistcoat. "It cannot be." Thorin walked over to Bilbo and grabbed him roughly by the shoulders, causing the hobbit to stagger backwards.
In that moment, with the hobbit so close to him and with Thorin breathing in his scent, a hint of familiarity came back to Thorin. But at that point he was too lost in rage to focus on it, but it would not be lost to him. Instead, presently he just continued his verbal assault on the hobbit. "That is Mithril upon you. Its worth is ten times that of gold and surely does not belong to you! How came you by this, thief?"
Bilbo was at a loss for words, but thankfully Dwalin spoke up and saved him, "You gave it to him, Thorin."
Thorin paused for a moment to look at the fierce warrior dwarf. Dwalin nodded when their eyes met and the dwarf king could not believe it was true. Thorin turned to address the hobbit that was still in his grasp. "What could you have done to deserve this? Nothing!" Thorin shook Bilbo by the shoulders and then released his grasp.
The dwarf was still healing and, as such, was easily winded. He did not wish to reveal his weaknesses to anyone, but especially not to this halfling. He walked purposefully back to his cot and sat heavily on the edge. He was doing his best to hide his pain, but Bilbo was an astute observer. After constantly being around people in pain, the hobbit had a pretty good idea of what it looked like. He could see the small crease in Thorin's brow, the stopped motion of a hand that longed to cover a healing wound, the slightest downturn in the corners of his mouth, the pushing up of the lower lip. All these things betrayed Thorin's pain in a way that hardly anyone picked up on, save Bilbo, Balin, and possibly Dwalin.
"I have something that will make the pain go away," Bilbo offered, stepping closer to where Thorin sat.
"I am not in pain and I do not need your help," Thorin replied obstinately.
Bilbo kept talking as he moved closer to Thorin. His hope was that if he could be with him just a little bit longer that maybe something he did or said would jog Thorin's memory. "Okay, okay, maybe you don't need my help now, but I… I need your help. You see, I have some friends, thirteen of them to be precise, and I would really like to spend some time with them again. It feels like they are very far from me and I miss them. And, and only you can help see us reunited."
Thorin's gaze was still smoldering, but it was also a bit quizzical. "Why should I help you?"
"Because I know you are good, Thorin Oakenshield." By now Bilbo was squarely in front of the dwarf king. "Because it is only you who can help me."
With the hobbit so close Thorin's senses were flooded with the sight, sound, and scent of him. Something painfully familiar tugged at Thorin's heart, but he could not place why or what exactly he was reminded of. Despite being somewhat disheveled, the hobbit smelled quite pleasant, like a kind summer breeze carrying the scent of freshly tilled soil and newly cut hay fields. Memories of the West were pulled to the forefront of Thorin's mind. He could vaguely make out the land surrounding Ered Luin as his mind's eye painted him a picture. Then he was taken someplace else. This was a place that he did not know. It had little houses built into the side of a hill and covered in grass. There was a winding path to the top of a hill and there stood a great tree.
Thorin shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the meaningless scenery. "Be gone!" When the hobbit tried to protest, Thorin raised his voice and used a tone that no one with his proper wits about him would argue with, "Now."
"But Thorin-" Kíli began.
"No, I said now! Balin, show this wretched creature to the door," Thorin barked his orders.
Balin knew better than to argue with Thorin at the moment, so he came to Bilbo's side and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. The hobbit took one last look at Thorin before he allowed himself to be led away by his friend. Out of the withdrawing room and down the cold, dark hallway they went. Balin walked all the way to the gates with the hobbit and even followed him a short way down the mountain.
Bilbo had said nothing since they had left the withdrawing room. What was there to say? When they got nearly halfway down the mountainside, Bilbo stopped and turned to Balin. "Please treat Fíli for me," his voice quivered as he reached into his pack and drew the two satchels from it. "The powder goes under his tongue. Just a pinch, two times a day," Bilbo's voice wavered almost imperceptibly with emotion. "And this one, this is a plant that when chewed is a wondrous pain reliever. That one is for Thorin. I could see how much pain he was in… Only two leaves, and chew for as long as possible." Bilbo could not keep his thoughts straight and just added whatever he could remember to his string of thoughts.
Bilbo handed off the satchels to Balin and was about to leave, when he addressed the old dwarf once more. "Balin? Promise me you will take care of them."
"Of course I will, laddie," Balin replied and clapped Bilbo on the shoulder in a heartfelt show of friendship. "Don't worry, before long you will be right there with us."
Bilbo laughed bitterly. "I can only hope you are right. I can only hope…"
Author's note: with the fall semester in full swing it will probably be a while before I get another chapter up, so apologies in advance. I hope everyone is having a great September! I know I am, despite the extra work load.
