A/N Ah, I love you guys! It's always a blast when I wake up and see your reviews in my inbox XD As promised I'm going even more AU and Dark in these following chapters, especially pertaining to the ring. Please read the A/N at the end of the story because I'm explaining my reasoning there and hope it makes sense. Again thank you for the awesome support you have been showing this story, I am most grateful!

Disclaimer: same as before


Chapter VIII: In darkness… paths

One moment Bilbo was asleep, the other he was tumbling down twisting tunnels next to his companions, wondering where in the world where they falling and praying that the blue light shed by his sword in those moments was wrong. However, he knew, because Gandalf had told him that his letter opener, as the dwarves called it, had been forged in Gondolin in the days of old and there was no chance for it to ever be wrong. As splinters bit into his limbs and dust clouded his eyes, Bilbo realized with a pained sigh that he had been relying too much on his dreams to tell him when something would be wrong. There had been no warning this time and he would be lucky if he lived enough to see another one.

Suddenly they were all dropping into a makeshift trap of some sort. Bilbo felt all the air leave his lungs when Oin landed on his chest, followed by Kili and Ori. Before any of them could have the time to jump to his feet they were swarmed by goblins. Hundreds of the foul creatures had surrounded them, taking their weapons and focusing mostly on his dwarven companions. Had someone asked, Bilbo would not have known what made him duck at that exact moment, but the movement made the goblins lose focus of him as they carted the dwarves away. Nori saw him free and shot him a worried – albeit hopeful – look. Pressing a finger to his lips to shush him, Bilbo tried following the others in silence standing a few paces behind, his sword glowing blue in his hand. However, luck was not on his side that day…out of nowhere a straggler jumped on him, snarling and waving its sword madly. Out of instinct – or maybe sheer dumb luck – Bilbo managed to meet its hits with his sword, until the goblin launched himself at him and they both toppled in the darkness beneath.

Rocks bit into his body as he rolled down the innards of the mountain, but he was lucky enough to fall on some mushrooms that probably saved his life, or a couple of ribs at the very least. In front of him the goblin was wheezing, clearly the more unlucky of the pair. Bilbo was just about to gingerly sit up and try to make his way out of the cavern when a twisted being all grey skin and bones came up to the goblin and dragged him away in the darkness, bashing him in the head a couple of times until the creature stilled and Sting's light dimmed.

Bilbo got up from his hiding place and quietly followed the creature. If it lived in the depth of the mountain, surely it knew a way out as well. As he walked forward a glimpse of gold caught his attention and he bent down to see what the shine was; it was a ring, simple and unadorned made of pure gold from what it seemed. Echoes whispered at the edge of his mind, whispering seductively words no one could understand, beckoning him… The ring was dark, Bilbo felt it in his bones, yet he could not resist the temptation. He knelt next to it and touched it, picking it up.

As soon as his skin came in contact with the cold metal, a huge pressure built up in his mind and images flared at the back of his consciousness.

Flash… a great eye, lidless, covered in flames overseeing a barren wasteland. Orcs filling the charred and black fields at the feet of a dark tower… A mountain erupting in flames in the distance…

Flash… darkness and cold, echoes of distant pasts, shadows of men long dead yet still enslaved riding dark horses and winged beasts, their shrieks making his ears throb…

Flash… a great war… men, elves and dwarves fighting on the plains at the feet of a dark tower. A man, valiant, with a broken sword cutting a golden ring with runes etched on it from the black hand of a great evil.

"Enough!" Bilbo whimpered to himself and dropped the ring in his pocket, wrenching himself away from the images that were still assaulting him, images of grey, twisted beings whose lives were sad tales, of death and despair, of the future, of the past and of the present. His head was throbbing painfully as he clutched to the wall in order to remain steady, trying to wrap his mind around what he had seen and what he had felt. His whole body was shivering with chills; he felt as if the cold had settled into his bones and veins, turning them to ice. He pressed forward, unsteadily, trying to see where the tunnel led.

Soon he found himself next to an underground lake face to face with the creature that had killed the goblin. It looked as terrifying as it did the first time with its huge eyes glowing in the darkness. Within moments he found himself locked into a game of riddles with the creature – Gollum? Smeagol? Which name was it, the one the creature uttered or the one whispered by the golden ring? –that would end up with his freedom or his death.


Voiceless it cries,

Wingless flutters,

Toothless bites,

Mouthless mutters.


How long had it been, Bilbo wondered as he gave the answer "wind", since he had last played a game of riddles with his cousins? The Took children used to gather in Tuckborough Hall often when Bilbo was young in order to play games. In his youth Bilbo had been a master at riddles, often besting even Old Took.


A box without hinges, key, or lid,

Yet golden treasure inside is hid.


Now, his favorite game had been turned against him, a mockery of the joy it used to be when he was small; yet, Bilbo felt nothing. No anger, no worry, no confusion, nothing. The chill that had settled in his soul made him numb to everything else. He couldn't even sense the fear that had been ever present during his journey.

"Eggses, precious, crunchy eggses," he heard dimly before the creature said another riddle.


This thing all things devours:

Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;

Gnaws iron, bites steel;

Grinds hard stones to meal;

Slays king, ruins town,

And beats high mountain down.


He knew the answer to that riddle. It was the exact thing he needed, the thing he did not have… time. Yet, something made him stall. He could not say what; it seemed that down there, in the cave next to the underground lake time had ceased to exist. That twisted creature had lived down there who knew how many years without actually feeling the passing of time and something made Bilbo feel the same. But, he had to get out, he had to. In that exact moment he could not even remember why he had to get out, but he knew staying there was not possible.

"Time!" he called out before offering a challenge of his own. For a moment his hand strayed next to his pocket and he could feel the foreign shape under the fabric of his waistcoat. He almost asked 'What is in my pocket' before shaking the thought from his mind and asking:


No-legs lay on one-leg, two-legs sat near on three-legs, four-legs got some.


"We don't know precious, no we don't!" the creature whined and wailed, muttering furiously under its breath. Bilbo knew that Gollum would most likely go back on his word, so he backed away, watching with horrified fascination as the creature talked to itself again and again, crying that it had lost a Precious, before gazing at Bilbo with fury and prowling near him. The hobbit dashed away, not knowing where he was going, but sure that one way or another he had to get out and that goblins were probably the safest choice between them and Gollum.

Finally seeing an opening in the rocks, Bilbo forced his way through, mindless of the brass buttons he lost on the way and fell to the ground on the other side. The golden ring somehow jumped from his pocket and in its descend landed on his finger. For a moment he saw grey and shadows swirling around him, Gollum screeching in fury and not being able to spot him although he was lying on the ground right in front of the creature – the ring granted him invisibility? – and a soft ray of light coming from somewhere, before he felt the same pressure building in his mind, but this time increased tenfold. The images were not longer snippets now, but complete paths winding in the future and the past, telling him more than he wanted to know.

In the depth of a fiery mountain a ring was being forged… a simple, gold band with elvish writing engraved on it. Its owner, someone who looked as fair as an elf, but was in fact dark and twisted took the Ring from its fiery home and cooled it, before placing it on its finger. All around Middle Earth the echo of this deed rang in the hearts of the three races; the elves moved quickly and hid their rings where no one else could find them. The dwarves retreated in their stone homes and took care of the Seven, knowing that although they could not be enslaved by the rings, they could be affected. Men, greedy, lusting for power, used the Nine and fell under the power of the One.

A great battle took place on a deserted plain in front of the fiery mountain. Men, elves and dwarves met orcs and trolls in combat and fought fiercely. An Elven Lord fell in battle next to a King of Men. The King's son cut the ring off the hand of the Enemy and kept it for himself.

Water… great stretches of water falling continuously over the Ring as it waited and waited for someone to finally acknowledge it. A hand, a fight, whispered names of Deagol and Smeagol and finally the Ring had a new master…

Years and centuries stretching endlessly in the depth of the Misty Mountains as the creature, now Gollum, no longer Smeagol, kept the Precious to itself, whispering words of love and hatred to it. Rumors of shadows, whispers of nameless fears in the forest of the world… the sign that the Ring had to leave Gollum and seek its Master.

Bilbo shivered in the darkness, the coldness sweeping more strongly in his bones, loud shrieks of winged beats echoing in his ears again and again. All around him the world was grey and dark, the edge of the shadow world, a place where he had no reason to linger.

Flash… the dream changes and it is no longer a dream of the past, but of the present and future. A great dragon lies asleep on a pile of gold, surrounded by the treasure he had stolen from a dwarf King. A great cry in Khuzdul rings inside the mountain as thirteen dwarves appear from the stone and surround the great lizard, attacking it from all sides. The dragon wakes up, enraged and attacks the Company.

Flash… another dream of the dragon, but this time it is attacking a settlement of Men set on the banks of a lake. Flames lick at the houses of Laketown, turning them to ash, killing men, women and children alike. An archer aided by an old raven prepares and arrow. He knows he has but one choice, else everything is fated for doom.

Flash… trees burn everywhere around him and wargs howl in the night. The moon is hidden by the clouds, as if not wishing to witness the slaughter that is bound to happen. Blue eyes lock with red and the dwarf prince raises Orcrist high in the air. Next to him his nephews approach the other orcs with a steely resolve. Bilbo sees their eyes in his dream and remembers why he must leave the tunnel, the mountain, why he must get rid of that accursed Ring that is dragging him further and further into the spirit world.

With a gasp and a sudden cry, Bilbo took the ring off his finger and stuffed it into his pocket. His whole form was shivering and nausea was forming in his throat. Stumbling almost half blindly, still seeing the grey shadows of the other world, he leaned on the stone and dry heaved. A few rays of light were reaching him faintly and Bilbo embraced their warmth and color, letting them guide his way. Gollum was nowhere to be seen, but the entrance of the mountain was in front of him. Gathering his withered strength, Bilbo sprinted outside and found himself going down a mountain path and entering a familiar forest. He ran until he heard voices in front of him, moment when he stopped to peek and listen.

"How could you have lost the hobbit?" Gandalf's voice rang with annoyance in the woods. "When did you last see him?"

"I saw 'im after the goblins caught us, Mr. Gandalf," Nori's voice said with a hint of panic. "The goblins didn't see 'im and he was trying to trail us. But at some point he disappeared."

"Do you think he's still in the mountain?" Kili asked.

"We can't leave him there!" Fili added with determination.

"There's no need to." Bilbo finally revealed himself, happy to see his friends, but so very tired. Fourteen pairs of eyes shot amazed, relieved and worried glances at him.

"Bilbo! You got away! How did you escape?", happy voices rose around him.

Without prior warning Bilbo found himself tackled to the ground by two very enthusiastic and very happy brothers and their scarf-kitting friend…

"Umph!" Bilbo grumbled as he patted the younger dwarves on the head. "Kili, Fili, Ori not that I'm not glad to see you, but I can't breathe."

Muttering apologies the three rose to their feet and hauled to hobbit up. Fili hissed in surprise and shot Bilbo a worried look.

"Your hands are so cold! And you look terrible! What in Mahal's name have you been up to?"

It was true… the longer the dwarves checked the hobbit out the more they witnessed the changes he had gone through in the mines. His usually flushed cheeks were pale white and dark bags had formed under his eyes. His hands were shivering without his notice and his whole body was swaying as if under severe strain. Before anyone had the time to ask the hobbit what had happened howls echoed in the air.

"Wargs," Gandalf spat, "Out of the frying pan…"

"… and into the fire," Thorin nodded. "RUN!"

Kili and Fili each grabbed one of Bilbo's arms – swearing not to lose him again – and all three of them broke into a run. The ground shook behind them as clawed paws were heard approaching closer and closer. Razor sharp teeth snapped somewhere behind Bilbo – too close for his comfort – and the hobbit ran faster, still held by Fili and Kili, trying not to tumble down the hill. One of the beasts jumped in front of them, cutting their path. The brothers took their swords out and felled the beast.

Bilbo's sword was out before he could even make the conscious choice to use it. Everything seemed like second nature to him now. He ran forward, following the brothers, getting closer and closer to the edge of the mountain and seeing no escape route in sight. A warg bit close to his shoulder and Bilbo twirled in place, embedding the blade in the creature's head.

"Up in the trees!" Gandalf shouted. "Quickly!"

Grabbing his sword from the corpse of the Gundabad wolf, Bilbo ran to the nearest tree and realized in dismay that there was no chance to climb it. He was simply too small! Before he had time to ponder what to do, Nori jumped to the lowest branch and swept Bilbo in his arms with surprising ease.

"Not letting ya of my sight again, Master Baggins!" the dwarf grinned. "Who knows where you'll get lost!"

Mere moments later, wargs swarmed the ground under them, howling with fury and trying to reach their prey. Then, besides the orcs that followed their mounts of choice, another being stepped into the clearing.

A pale orc astride a white warg… with a sharp intake of breath Bilbo understood exactly what he was seeing and shouted in his mind at the unfairness of it all. It was too soon, he had no idea what to do, how to help them, NO! The orc was exactly how he had seen him in his dreams, pale white with blood red eyes and a body littered with scars.

He spoke in a harsh and guttural language that sent chills down Bilbo's spine. From his pocket he felt soft whispers answering in a similar language and he froze, knowing that it was that blasted ring answering the call of the orcs though they could not hear it.

"Azog!" from somewhere to his left Thorin said in a strangled voice. "It's not possible!" In a tree next to him Fili let out a loud growl and Kili cursed in Khuzdul.

It was possible and Bilbo knew it better than most. Part of him felt guilty for not sharing his belief that the orc who had killed Thorin's grandfather was alive, but he had had his reasons.

Suddenly, following a harsh order issued by Azog, the wargs started attacking the trees. Bilbo barely managed to keep hold of the branch he was sitting on, before the tree lurched forward and started falling.

"Seems like we'll be jumping, Master Baggins," Nori said grimly as the tree started falling and crashed into the nearby tree. Bilbo found himself flung from his branch and barely caught another one before that tree too started falling. The process repeated two or three more times – Bilbo lost count – before all the company found itself perched in the tree where Gandalf had taken shelter. The attack halted for a few moments as Azog laughed something in that vile tongue of his, before it got renewed with even more strength than before.

Gandalf started lighting pine cones and tossing them at the wargs. The beats' fur caught fire and soon the flames spread in the entire forest as all of them grabbed the flaming cones the wizard was making and tossed them as accurately as possible. Just when things were starting to look brighter, the tree they were sitting in started toppling backwards, barely hanging above the abyss that spread at their feet.

Then, everything seemed to move in slow motion. Bilbo saw Thorin, fire blazing in his eyes, move from the safety of the tree and charge with a mighty cry. The hobbit wanted to shout out a warning, to tell the dwarf prince to turn back, that no victory could be found in such an endeavor, but the words got stuck in his throat. Instead he watched in horrified fascination as the white warg leapt towards Thorin, its claws almost grazing the dwarf prince's back. Azog turned his mount around and raised his mighty mace that got met by Orcrist in mid air. However, the orc's strength was greater and Thorin was sent falling backwards. The warg growled and its huge jaws closed around the dwarf's body.

Fear built in Bilbo's soul even as Thorin managed to free himself from the jaws of the beast; he knew what he could do! It was the only path he had not seen, the only path not taken and just as Dwalin cried out "Thorin" in the night, Bilbo decided he would make that choice no matter what.

Jumping to his feet, Bilbo scrambled out of the tree and on the ground just in time to see the last bit of strength leave Thorin. A second orc was approaching him, sword raised high in order to deliver the fatal blow. With a desperate cry Bilbo sprinted forward, his sword clutched in his hand.

'I WILL NOT LET YOU DIE!' he vowed and made the first step down one of the main paths of fate. As he flung himself towards the orc, knocking him down and stabbing him, Bilbo made another choice, to disregard his safety in favor of others. The hobbit stumbled off the now still orc and placed himself between Azog and Thorin. He knew he had no chance to face the Pale Orc if Thorin had been defeated by him, but the Valars help him he would try. He could not stand still and let death take his leader.

"Akashuga!" Azog growled in distaste. "Time to die!"

The white warg prowled closer to Bilbo, its fangs bared in a growl. Bilbo swung Sting wildly in front of him, but the wolf like creature swiped a paw at him, as if batting away an annoying insect. Razor sharp claws bit into his chest, tearing his flimsy waistcoat and drawing blood. Bilbo fell to the ground, pain flaring in his body, as the huge Gundabad warg moved closer and placed a massive paw on his chest. Pain flared inside him as a few cracks rang in the night. Fighting to stay conscious, Bilbo brought Sting down and stabbed the creature in its paw. The warg howled and reared back.

Bilbo fought to rise to his feet, but the pain was too powerful and the pressure in his chest made it hard to breathe. Just as he was about to give up a shrill cry echoed in the night and a pair of massive claws caught him gently and lifted him in the air. He was in a huge eagle's grasp and he was glad to see that all of his companions had been rescued, including Thorin who was still unconscious.

The eagles finally reached a rock plateau where they gently set their charges down. Bilbo barely managed to stand on his feet, his breathing labored and harsh, yet desperate to see whether Thorin would be all right. Gandalf quickly rushed at Thorin's side and muttered strange words, until the dwarf's eyes started to flutter open.

All gave a sigh of relief in one breath as the dwarf prince slowly began to stand.

"The Halfling…?" he asked looking around. "Where?"

Gandalf moved a few paces left, bringing Bilbo into full view. Thorin's blue gaze met Bilbo's worn and tired one and the dwarf prince's face morphed into a frown as he moved forward. Bilbo flinched, barely and prepared for the harsh words that he knew were soon to come. However, in his soul, his Took side was roaring powerfully, ready to be unleashed at the first sign.

"What in Mahal's name were you thinking charging Azog like that, brandishing that letter opener of yours like a half-crazed wren? You could have died!" Thorin's words were laced with concern as he looked the hobbit over, noticing his wounds and his wheezing breath. He did not expect Bilbo to give a half-crazed, almost mad laugh that sent chills down his spine and to break down in both tears and laughter, his usually calm eyes blazing with fury.

"You!" Bilbo cried out, whether in anger, relief, or both he did not know. "You stubborn, maddening DWARF!" he spat as if it was the biggest insult he could come out with. "Do you know what I've seen these last days?" Tears started leaking at the corner of his eyes and he tried to wipe them away, but they kept falling. "Choices, choices and again choices! Each one starting with you charging Azog like a mad man and each one ending with you dead, sometimes followed by all the rest…. And every time I would be left alone, because there would be no crueler move on the orcs' part than leaving me alive while the rest of you lay dead." With a sob he broke down crying and managed to gasp, "And I thought I would be too late again and this time when it mattered most."

The final burst of strength left Bilbo and his eyes rolled at the back of his head. He started falling, only to be caught in Thorin's strong arms. Only later would the words actually register in the dwarf prince's mind and he would realize that the Halfling had known Azog was still alive.

At the moment, though, he gazed at the one who saved his life with a gentle look in his eyes and understood that even the smallest of being could change the fate of the world.


A/N OMG I actually finished it! This was sooo long XD And I think the Author Note will be very long as well, but I promised some explanations and I intend to keep my promise. I want to explain a bit my reasoning behind the effect the Ring has on Bilbo and the reason his "choices" reared so powerfully after he got possession of the Ring.

As far as I see things, the Rings of Power enhance the bearer's certain abilities or desires. For example, we know from the Lord of the Rings and the Simarillion that the Three – mostly Vilya and Nenya, but also Narya in the beginning – were used as protective means to keep Imlandris, Lindon and Lorien safe. Also, Cirdan gave Gandalf Narya in order to support him in his quest against Sauron.

"Take this ring, Master, for your labours will be heavy; but it will support you in the weariness that you have taken upon yourself. For this is the Ring of Fire, and with it you may rekindle hearts in a world that grows chill." Appendix B: "The Tale of Years," p. 366

The Seven, given to the Dwarf Lords, aided them in gathering greater wealth, though it enhanced their greed ( without enslaving them to Sauron's will because dwarves were powerful enough to resist ).

The Nine played on men's greed and desire for power and also desire for immortality. They extended the bearers' life span and turned them into servants of Sauron.

When we take the One Ring into account we know that it affects men more easily than hobbits – take for example Isildur and Boromir – and that it tempts those who would have the power to wield it – Gandalf, Galadriel. As far as hobbits go, them being simple folk for whom greed means wishing they had ownership over a better hobbit hole at most, the Ring does not really have a certain weakness to prey on. We know Bilbo held the Ring for 60 years without actually falling prey to it in the end, because Bilbo was a hobbit who already had everything he desired and no special "powers".

However, in this story, Bilbo has the gift of foresight, although it is tightly tied to his choices and the importance of these choices in the future. For example, Bilbo would not be able to "see" something that Denethor for example would decide in Gondor in the future, because he has no ties to Gondor. However, he would be able to sense a certain choice of Thorin's because he was linked to the members of the Company and their fates were entwined. When Bilbo picked up the Ring, it sensed his ability and tried to enhance it, thus trying to make Bilbo fall under its thrall because it granted him more "power". The Ring as I see it is more or less sentient so it's able to make certain "choices" like abandoning Gollum or betraying Isildur.

However, because Bilbo is a hobbit and the gift of foresight is completely uncommon in this race, the power with which the Ring unleashed the multitude of choice – also opening another gate at the same time, the one that linked Bilbo and the Ring, making Bilbo able to see what the Ring had seen – was too strong for the hobbit. Moreover, when the strength of the assault increased- when Bilbo actually used the Ring – Bilbo's own strength weakened and he found himself ill.

Ok, I hope this made sense as I do not want to reveal the whole Bilbo – Ring dynamic in an Author's Note, but merely wished to make some things that may have been confusing clear. Phew! End of the A/N! Looking forward to hearing your opinion.