Chapter ten

"Be on your guard!" Thorin glanced back at the line of us curving along the mountain side path that wound its way out of the hidden valley and towards the plateaus. "We are about to step over the edge of the wild." He stopped and let us file past him. "Balin, you know these paths –lead on," He was going last –perhaps making sure that none of the elves would follow us.

We left his morning at the crack of dawn. Thorin shook us all awake and we packed in a hurry. Bilbo had sat dejectedly in a corner. He hadn't wanted to leave. My neither. However, Thorin was resolute and I led the dwarves carefully out of Imladris through the little short cuts and winding halls that were seldom used in the early mornings. Now, Bilbo and I trundled last in the company, our feet reluctantly dragging as we would gaze back at the Last Homely House glowing softly in the rising sun. Bilbo stopped to take in the last view of the white arches and pillars all balanced gracefully on the waterfalls.

"I suggest you keep up, Master Baggins," Thorin called to him.

Thorin waited until we passed him until he took his place behind us. I set my jaw. Now only a vast, vast wilderness lay before us before we reached the shores of Esgaroth, the long lake that lay near the foothills of Erebor.

.

Day by day, the paths climbed higher and higher. The grassy plateaus gave way to the barren rock faces mauled by ice, though because it was summer, misty waterfalls thundered in the place of frozen rivers. Soon, there were glaciers to be seen, though the mountain paths did not stray too near. The paths that lead to the mountain pass rose to incredible heights and odd rock formations rose that looked strangely of abandoned fortresses rose about us. The air grew thin and Bilbo and I had harder times breathing as compared to the hardy dwarves. Bilbo woke up short of breath and I found that any pace other than a steady walk would see me lagging behind. I kept up well, however, and Thorin had nothing to say. Sometimes, we would have to stop and wait for the hobbit. He would come up huffing and puffing and wheezing. I wanted to pick him up and carry him when I saw him grimacing, but I supposed it would have injured his pride.

Dark, jagged rock rose up around us as we wandered deep into the mountains. The paths were dangerous and unkempt and at times were so thin that we had to edge along sideways with are backs plastered to the rock face and a drop of thousands and thousands of feet at our toes. Everyone at one time or another had horrifying near-slips that induced pounding hearts and dizzying fear and scrambling. We would have to send two scouts ahead once in a while in order to find places wide enough to rest, lest we be caught in dangerous path when darkness fell with no place to stop. I wished desperately at times that I was shorter and stockier and closer to rock. I felt like I was too tall and swayed too easily. The weather since we had reached the highest paths was relatively kind, with a steady wind and flash drizzles at times.

When we finally found places to stop at night, we would all collapse carefully onto the ground, finally releasing our clenched muscles. There was little talking or singing. Any moment of distraction led to a slip and possibly a fall, so everyone kept quiet. It was exhausting. My mind felt battered with anxiety and concentration. Everyone was irritable.

Then the rain came. The skies darkened slowly over a day. The next day it was black. Rain lashed out mercilessly against us and the rock, making everything slippery and loose. We were soaked and shivering with our limbs dangerously stiff. Earlier on in the day, my right foot caught on a rock and I pitched forward. I threw myself against the rocks and tore the skin on my arms and face, but at least I was safely on the path. Shaking visibly, the stinging cuts gave me a constant reminder and kept me alert.

The wind soon began tearing at our clothes.

"Hold on!" Thorin's shadowy figure was at the front. "We need to find shelter!"

Bilbo suddenly slipped behind me and I heard the crumbling of loose rocks. I snatched at his shoulder and Bofur grabbed his arm. Bilbo wavered with his feet on the path but his upper body leaned out over the precipice swaying and trying to regain his balance. Giving him a tug, he smacked back against the wall panting.

There was a sudden, deep rumble. "Look out!" Dwalin cried. A huge thing was sailing through the air above us. Was that a –?

The boulder smashed above as and chunks of rubble tumbled down over us. A shard sliced past my forehead and I winced but dared not to move.

"This is no thunderstorm!" Balin called from ahead. "It is a thunder battle! Look!" He pointed across the deep valley fissure before us. A colossal shadowy figure was moving. I squinted desperately and slowly, I made out the rough outlines of a shoulder and an arm and a head and torso.

"Well blast me!" Bofur gasped, "The legends are true! Giants! Stone Giants!"

The giant picked up another boulder and whipped it high up into the air towards us again. A second rumbling shuddered around us.

"Behind us!" Fili shouted. And lo! There was another one coming around the corner we had rounded, its rugged features nearly indeterminable. The boulder smashed into its chest with a shattering boom and the broken pieces rained down on us and on the path, smashing away what little was already there beneath our feet. A groan echoed around us as the ground shook and swayed.

"Hold my hand!" It was Kili –he was reaching out to Fili. Fili! But Fili and the dwarves behind him were suddenly moving away from us!

An air-splitting roar came from above as the ground rose. I realized with a sickening shock that we were on a giant ourselves. I could not tell which bit we were currently scrambling about on, but soon it would become near impossible to stay on. The giant across from us spanned the chasm and headed towards ours and we felt the bone-jarring impact as they head butted one another. We were swung to the left, even further from the others and I heard Thorin shout a "Go, GO!" and suddenly we were all running towards his voice and leaping over to what seemed to be normal mountain and not the knee of some giant pretending to be a mountain. One of the giants had another boulder in his hands and he threw it, knocking off the head of the giant that still had dwarves on him clean off. The towering mass bent backwards as his knee moved towards the mountainside. The dwarves were going to be crushed. The giant's knee slammed the dwarves into the mountain and out of sight.

"No!" Thorin scrambled towards them ahead as the giant's knee fell back and the whole giant tumbled down and away. "Fili!"

As we careened around the corner, we were greeted with the side of Nori, Ori, Bombur, Fili, Bofur and Dwalin groaning and cursing.

"Where's the hobbit?" It was Bofur looking wildly around.

I swore and my stomach dropped. Fingers on the ledge. Bilbo was hanging on by the tips of his fingers over the cliff. Ori and Bofur threw themselves down on their stomachs trying to reach the hobbit. He slipped again but caught on to another bit of rock a bit further down with one of his hands. I nearly bit my tongue off. I threw myself down too and reached towards him, my arms were the longest. But he was just too far away he had no strength to lift his other arm towards my reaching one. I leaned over further and further until for a moment I nearly pitched forward, but someone grabbed my legs. Suddenly, Thorin swung down himself. And with one hand on the ledge, he hoisted the hobbit up towards me. I saw him ready to climb back up when his foot slipped.

"Thorin!" I screamed, but the hobbit was in my arms.

Dwalin grabbed Thorin's arm in time and he slowly pulled Thorin up. I sat panting as Bilbo collapsed on my legs. He whimpered and I almost felt like vomiting in relief. My limbs were numb and shaking.

"I thought we almost lost our burglar," Dwalin remarked.

Thorin turned and looked down at Bilbo. "He's been lost ever since he left home, he should never have come. He has no place amongst us." His voice was hard and unforgiving as the stone around us. He turned and walked into a crevasse in the rock face. "Dwalin," he called as he disappeared from sight.

I wrapped the hobbit gently in my arms for a moment. We sat there, shivering until the rest of the dwarves were inside the cave. He finally got up. We silently made our way into the cave.

.

There was no fire that night since Thorin was afraid we would attract unwanted attention, so we huddled on the sandy floor shivering and wet. Balin was fretting to me.

"We should wait for Gandalf."

"Isn't that the plan?"

"Thorin changed it."

I nearly burst in frustration.

"He told us that we were to leave at first light."

I shook my head, but there was nothing we could do.

Oin and I patched up everyone the best we could. It was mostly scrapes and bruises that would heal on their own, but there were larger cuts that needed to be cleaned.

"Stop moving," I dabbed at a cut on Fili's forehead.

"Just leave it," he hissed.

"You want your face to fall off?"

He stopped moving.

"Why are you here anyway?" He looked up at me as I started to clean a cut on his cheek.

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"It's so dangerous. Why did you come with us?"

I shrugged.

"It's not the treasure is it?"

"No."

He waited.

I finished up on the cut. "I owe your uncle a debt that can never be repaid." He opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off. "You're done –next," I pulled Kili before me and started on his wounds.

"Ow!"

I was a little rough. "Sorry,"

.

The floor was cold and hard, but at least it was dry. I pulled my sleeping roll tighter around me and pressed my back into Bombur who has sleeping deeply beside me. He wouldn't mind. Well, he wouldn't wake anyway until someone shook him awake. I drifted slowly off to a fitful sleep. Whispering voices woke me.

"Where do you think you're going?" It was Bofur.

Bilbo's voice came out of the darkness reluctantly. "Back to Rivendell,"

"No, no –you can't turn back now! You're part of the company! You're one of us!"

The answer came without hesitation, "I'm not though, am I?"

Thorin's words must have really dug right into the hobbit's home sickness. I suddenly understood that Bilbo wanted Thorin's approval like the rest of us did. Thorin... he was one who inspired such feelings in others that one could not help but follow. His trust was hard to earn and it scarcely was given. He had given me his trust. He had given me everything, but I had turned it away. It was something I could never repay, no matter what I did. But I had to try.

Bilbo continued, "Thorin said I didn't belong here and he was right. I'm not a Took, I'm a Baggins. I don't know what I was thinking. Should have never run out my door."

There was a pair of blue eyes glinting in the darkness from the meagre light of the moon. I realized with a start that Thorin was awake and listening.

Bofur replied, "You're homesick! I understand!"

"But you don't! None of you understand! You're dwarves! You're used to –to this! To living on the road, never settling in one place! Not belonging anywhere!"

I saw Bofur stiffen. Oh no. Bilbo. Bofur, though not from the Lonely Mountain, had a home in Ered Luin. Bilbo thought these dwarves were wanderers. They were not. They left home for adventure or money or Thorin, but they did not wander. A dwarves' love for their home is like stony roots that never can be uprooted and they went on adventures because they knew that all paths led to home. All paths led to hearth. As for the other dwarves, they didn't live on the road because of choice. Their home was gone. These dwarves did understand. Perhaps they understood more than Bilbo. They were homesick for a place that was no longer theirs. They were homesick for a place of belonging.

"I'm sorry." Bilbo cleared his throat, his voice regretful.

Bofur's words were painful to my heart, "No, you're right. We don't belong anywhere." It was silent for a moment.

I couldn't bear to look at the dimming of the blue eyes in the darkness.

"I wish you all the luck in the world," Bofur finally continued, "I really do," he gripped Bilbo's shoulder firmly and let him go. "Wait –," his voice rang out. "What's that?"

There was a soft glowing from Bilbo's side. I had originally thought that the light reflecting in Thorin's eyes were from the moon, but it seemed to have been from Bilbo. The hobbit reached to his belt and drew his sword. Soft blue light glimmered.

Neither Bilbo, Bofur, Thorin, nor I registered its meaning until the sound of moving sand reached our ears. There was a crack slowly opening on the cave floor and sand was falling into it. There was a deep groan of metal.

"Wake up!" Thorin was on his feet.

The next moment, I was flailing desperately for anything to stop me from falling as the mountain swallowed us whole.