Thank you all for the reviews, please keep 'em coming! I have to apologise in advance if this is not good enough, but I have been sick for the last three days and my brain is not in the mood to cooperate with me.
Title taken from the well known song by The Rolling Stones–only the greatest song ever.
Gimme shelter
As he prepared his things Fili had the privilege of being a witness to a ridiculous game of cat and mouse. Kili's aspirations to become a stalker were never more real, whereas Arya took pains to avoid him at every turn, and with quite the haughtiness at that. Therefore, when opportunity knocked, the blond took full advantage of it.
Believing she'd successfully weaved herself out of Kili's eyesight, Arya let a little too much of her guard down. That was her big mistake, for she'd reckoned without her host. There was no time to scoot off or even pretend she was in the middle of something serious, basically because she was all ready to go and did nothing more than waiting silently for the rest when the blond dwarf crept behind her back.
"Are you being serious?"
She wasn't startled, only shut her eyes in frustration upon realising how much she missed her days of solitude. Turning her head, she let another long-suffering sigh like back at the stream. "I told you that I was going to ignore him."
The dwarf looked at her askance. "You do know that he did not mean to make you lose it, right?"
"Still," she shrugged, "it is lost."
"It merely was an unfortunate turn of events," Fili tried to reason. "Why can't you see the underlying meaning of the gesture? He was worried that you were hurt."
Sensing the absurd direction this discussion was taking, she leveled him with a glare. "I fail to see why he should concern himself with my well-being."
"Arya, he cares–!"
"Thin ice, Fili," she hissed, using thumb and forefinger to emphasize how dangerously close he was to getting tackled to the ground. "Thin ice."
The dwarf abandoned his attempt to reason with her. From what he'd learned about her so far, he'd figured out that she could be more stubborn than a dwarf if she wanted to. He walked away with downcast gaze and left her to her own devices.
It was still early morning, yet they were all up and prepared to begin their hiking again and follow the Great East Road through the Misty Mountains. Their breakfast was quite frugal, as they kept all their supplies for the difficult days and nights that were about to come.
Bilbo was standing in the small balcony and gazed over the Valley and the beauty unfolding before his eyes in all its magnificence. He failed to hear the light footsteps approaching.
"Not with your companions?"
The deep, slow voice startled him and he turned to face the Elf Lord standing there all mighty and impossibly tall. "I... I shan't be missed," he stammered and the words came out quite bitterly. "The truth is that most of them don't think I should be on this journey."
"Indeed?" Elrond inquired and fixed him with an examining look. "I've heard that hobbits are very resilient."
The hobbit blurted out a half-hearted laugh before narrowing his eyes in disbelief. "Really?"
The elf nodded in the affirmative, studying him more closely now. "I've also heard they are fond of the comforts of home."
Bilbo smiled cautiously. "I've heard that it's not wise to seek the counsel of elves, for they will answer with 'yes' and 'no'," he said in a low voice, casting a conspiratorial glance around.
Elrond gave away no emotion nor reacted to the hobbit's words. Bilbo's face expression faltered for a brief second, thinking he had offended him, but let another awkward laugh when he saw him smile.
"You are very welcome to stay here, if that is your wish," Elrond said with a small pat on the hobbit's shoulder. "Although, I believe you should know that Arya is fervently supportive of you."
He strolled off then and Bilbo was left behind to mull over his words, deeply grateful for whatever the Ranger had said to him. It managed to lift his spirits a bit. He remained there in the small balcony, having as his only company the sound of running water from the waterfalls and the merry chirp of the flying birds, and pondered about what else this journey had in store for them.
Arya glanced over her shoulder at the hobbit and often caught him looking behind. "You can visit again upon your return," she whispered to him.
Startled, Bilbo turned to look at her with something akin to nostalgia. "It was really beautiful," he said and cautiously added with a small sigh, "The Elves were so nice. I did pity them, though, for a moment there." To her quizzical look he explained with a gesture towards the company, "Anyone who saw this lot bathing surely will have nightmares for the rest of their life."
"What do you mean?"
"They took a bath in the fountains, of all places," Bilbo sighed with frustration. "In the buff."
The woman tossed her head back, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Oh dear. A bunch of naked dwarves bathing and cavorting in Rivendell's pristine fountains—how come she always missed the best? "I am so sorry you and my mother's ever prudent kin happened to witness this, although it serves one or two nosy elves right," she said with a roguish smile. "Though, I'm afraid we ought to move on. Thorin's already giving us the side-eye. Let us not give him another reason to frown upon us, shall we?"
He nodded, putting his feet to the task immediately. "I do not believe he thinks of you as an outcast."
Arya scoffed. If he were present at their table during the dinner in Rivendell or at the small conversation she had with the King later that night, he'd surely understand that the dwarves had no trust for her. It was simply in their nature to be leery of people outside their own race and she wouldn't get to change that. "Thorin Oakenshield will never consider someone like me part of his company, regardless of what he says or how he acts. Unless a miracle happens."
He sighed again. "Well, at least you know how to swing a sword. I'm still the one who looks more like a grocer than a burglar."
"And what is wrong with that? Grocer is a respected profession," she said in earnest. "Though I'd like to apologise for neglecting your sword training all these days. We can start again at your earliest convenience."
"Please," he waved off. "You were injured and we all were in dire need of rest, so it is perfectly alright," he reassured and then took an apple out of his pack to eat, not really looking forward to starting his training again.
She left him to enjoy his snack in peace and kept walking silently behind him.
All week long as they travelled, the feeling that something bad was going to happen had been blooming them. The present day was a perfect example of it. The weather was foul, as usual. Raining every morning had turned the road into an endless puddle of mud. The result of this was constant grouching on the dwarves' part, Thorin being grumpier than usual and sulking all the time, Bilbo staying as quiet as humanly possible so as not to provoke the king's temper, and Arya's nerves hanging from a thread.
Implementing the usual distraction once more, she shut all the voices down in her head. She was deep in her thoughts when it began to rain just before dark fell over them, prompting her to put on her hood and tighten the cloak around her shoulders. It was obviously going to be one of those cold nights, wet and windswept; the kind that makes people anxious to find a shelter to hide.
The path they'd taken today was a rutty one, to say the least. It was small, narrow, craggy, and dangerous stones lay on every step. It fit no more than one person to walk at a time, so they formed a line and paced carefully. Thorin was leading alongside Dwalin, and everyone was silent, paying heed to their steps. Suddenly, the storm that was brewing all day erupted when a bolt of lightning tore the sky in two. The sky began pouring all its rage upon them.
Too immersed in the dark landscape the enormous mountains created, the hobbit failed to watch his next step. His surprised scream blended with the sound of a thunderclap when his foot slipped over the edge, but quickly found himself pulled back on stable ground by the Ranger's hand.
"We must find shelter!" Thorin's husky, urgent voice came from the front.
The sky was suddenly illuminated by a lightning bolt, bright enough that it could pass for daylight. Another rumbling thunderclap followed.
"Look out!"
Before they even knew what was going on, an enormous rock crashed against the mountain directly above the path.
"Hold on!"
Question was, onto what?
The mountainside promptly started to collapse on their heads.
"This is no thunder storm. It's a thunder battle!" screamed Balin, gesturing towards the two huge stony figures that collided with each other with a deafening clatter. "Look!"
"Bless me, the legends are true!" exclaimed Bofur, his voice a mix of fright and amazement. "Stone giants!"
Rather large rocks fell down on them, scraping their bodies in the most painful ways. The path cracked and its width became extensively smaller, and the Ranger put her arm in front of the hobbit to push him behind her.
And as if that wasn't enough, the ground beneath their feet started to shake. Suddenly, the mountain began to split in half and several faces froze in utter horror.
"What's happening?" yelled Kili.
"Kili!" Fili yelled back.
Yes, she had promised to ignore him, but it was impossible to continue when natural instincts kicked in. Her heart leaped into her mouth when he began to move away. "Grab my hand!" she cried, tottering dangerously close to the edge in a desperate attempt to tug him along.
The brothers nearly lost it when she slipped off the path. "Arya, no!" they both bellowed and, in frenzy, Fili managed to pull her back literally at the last moment, while a panicky Kili gawped at them as more and more distance was put between them.
The giant's leg, where the rest stood, collided with a rock and Arya saw them jump into another seemingly steadier path. For a second she was relieved, but the feeling didn't have time to settle; it was immediately replaced by fear and giddiness. She felt herself slowly, but steadily, slipping towards the edge as the giant fell into a vortex of restless moving, causing every sense of orientation to fly out of the window.
The others watched the leg tottering in front of their eyes and irrevocably heading to crash on the mountainside.
Arya briefly scanned the place they would be smashed—provided that they were lucky enough so the giant wouldn't collapse before they reached the steady part of the mountain. They could survive if they were quick and careful, for there was a dimple where they could land. What she had failed to notice in all this turmoil was the protruding sharp jag of a rock in the spot she was about to fall, with a great chance of cutting her in half in the best case.
"Jump!" she urged the others.
She clutched Fili's hand, who was almost ready to slip forward, and pulled him back as the giant's leg leaned towards the mountain. Luck hadn't forsaken her after all, seeing that she caught a glimpse of the sharp rock and jumped slightly higher than the others to avoid it. The leg crashed onto the mountainside, splinters flung to every direction, and the huge stone man fell to debris down into the dark abyss.
"No!"
Horrified at the thought of losing one of his nephews, Thorin hardly paid heed to his step as he darted forward, crying Fili's name desperately in the cold air.
Everyone followed after him, rushing to the spot where the giant had collapsed with little care for the heavy rain that soaked their clothes, no matter how thick they were. Thorin experienced a transition from horror to surprise to relief, all in the space of one second. A rare smile lit up his wind-battered face upon seeing everyone alive and he hastily made way towards his nephew.
Arya felt a bunch of rock chunks plopping heavily down on her, enhancing the bruises and cuts she was sure that were already spread across her back. Kili had sprung forward after Thorin's cry, one step too close to trample over those who stood on his way to follow his uncle. His tension flew away the moment he faced Fili sitting upright with a lost look on his face, probably wondering how the hell did they survive. The two brothers uttered words of relief and crushed each other in a tight embrace, a few seconds longer than it was socially acceptable, until male pride kicked in and there was a mutual, untold decision that such affection was a bit too much for dwarves their age. Fili then moved to help poor Bombur who was stuck on the ground, while Kili grudgingly acknowledged he was too close to having a breakdown after searching for another figure in vain.
Amazing how being in the brick of death exposed someone's priorities, as well as concern for those who were endangered.
After moments of panic that felt like hours, Kili found her sprawled upon a rock, facing down. Her body was spread clumsily on it, limbs either hanging aside or stretched to all directions. He scooted to her side and frantically shifted her in his arms to turn her to face him. It wasn't very helpful that she didn't react at all, and he felt his heart pounding at the unnerving lack of motion.
In a daze, Arya felt someone grab her shoulders and shake her violently. Her eyes snapped open and she jerked upright, facing a pair of very familiar eyes of all things.
"Thank Mahal!" Kili exhaled sharply, a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.
She was still quite nauseated and his strangely kind attitude wasn't helping at all. "Am I dead?" she asked, eyeing him warily.
"No," he sighed in relief, "you're alive–"
"I'm alive and you're happy about it?" Her eyes narrowed in doubt. "This is definitely the end times," she muttered with conviction and, to both their surprise, he found himself laughing quietly before helping her up to her feet.
"Where's Bilbo?" Bofur suddenly yelled. "Where is the hobbit?"
All fourteen eyes searched around in vain, until Dwalin pointed to an edge where Bilbo was hanging. He, Bofur and Arya frantically ran to him, crying in unison, "Grab my hand!"
Bilbo was struggling to hold himself steady and reach one of the hands hanging above his head, though every attempt was futile. Then Thorin jumped down the cliff himself, grabbing the hobbit and helping him up to the others. He would slip further down if it wasn't the Ranger's hand along with Dwalin's and both his nephews pulling them back as well. Once he was safe, he looked at her and clapped her slightly in the shoulder as thanks. She was quite surprised to receive such a gesture from him and returned to the spot she had landed before to collect some of her scattered stuff.
"I thought we lost our burglar," Dwalin panted out.
"He's been lost ever since he left home. He should never have come," Thorin accused gruffly. "He has no place amongst us–"
"For heaven's sake," Arya snapped, "save it for when we're not standing on the edge of a cliff with rock giants crashing over our heads!"
Thorin felt his anger rise but decided there was no time for petty arguments. Well, this and she was partly right, for they still were in danger. With a brisk turn of his head, he fortunately caught a glimpse of the opening of a cave a little down the path and nervously hurried to shove himself to the inside.
"We have to find somewhere else to stay for the night," he heard the Ranger say behind him.
"Why? This looks safe enough," came Dwalin's protest. He was quite tired and worn to have the courage to keep searching for another cave with the giants' battle raging out there.
"It is too close to the High Pass," explained Arya, her eyes gingerly flickering around, although she limited only to say that.
There had been relative peace and no other recorded event of importance had come to light since the last battle that had taken place in Dimrill Dale —a valley on the east side of the Misty Mountains, otherwise known as Azanulbizar— for most of the surviving orcs had fled further to the north to plague numerous abandoned places all over Eriador. Yet word had it, that a considerable number of goblins had escaped Moria's downfall and now hid and thrived in an underground kingdom placed deep beneath the High Pass.
For a mere second Thorin seemed to dither and considered following her lead, but he couldn't bring himself to risk another fatal meeting with the giants. "Search to the back," he eventually told Dwalin. "Caves in the mountains are seldom unoccupied."
The husky dwarf obeyed immediately. "There's nothing here," his voice emerged from the back after a minute.
"Thorin, Gandalf brought me along for a reason. Please, heed my words, we must move on and find shelter somewhere else. The area near the Pass is not as safe as it once used to be."
"Should you be able to find something better, be my guest," he grumbled, the exhaustion obvious in his voice. "We shall rest here until your return."
She fought off a whimper aloud and simply crossed her arms over her chest, muttering rather grudgingly, "Very well."
Some of the dwarves were slightly annoyed by their leader's rude attitude towards the hobbit earlier, though none seemed to be now. Yet she was something more than irked by his inability to cooperate and made a point to it by doing abrupt moves while rearranging her weapons and cloak, suppressing the urge to start throwing rocks with the king's head as a target.
Not moments later Fili leapt out at her side, a coy look flitting across his face. "Thank you for holding me back there."
"I wouldn't let you fall. The last thing I need is another loss weighing on my conscience."
A weird smile formed on his face. "Two, if we count that one's brother in."
Her hands paused what they were doing and she felt small tweaks in her stomach. "I know how it is to lose a brother, Fili. I've lost two," she mumbled darkly. "I would never wish that feeling upon another soul."
"Is this the only reason you scrambled to bring him with us?" he asked thoughtfully. "So we could die together?"
Arya wasn't sure about the sincerity of her thoughts, less so about that of her words. So she said nothing. She'd reached the point of doubting the motives of her own actions. Her mind was a tumbling mess and, oddly enough, it had nothing to do with the swirling of the giant's leg. She genuinely forgot to give him an answer sunk as she was into her thoughts.
Fili watched as she mechanically pulled her hood back on and started to plod towards the entrance, curious that she dodged the question. "Where are you going?" he demanded, drawing his brother's attention in the process.
"To find a place for us to rest for the night, where I shan't have the feeling that we are being tracked."
Kili nervously circled them, blocking her path like a boulder. "You mean to go out there all by yourself?"
"He's right," Fili piped up. "We are coming with you."
A silent witness to the little exchange, Thorin decided it was time to intervene in order to spare himself something akin to a second panic attack. "You're going nowhere," he said with a deadpan expression. "Take out our bedrolls."
She refused any potential offer of a cohort with a glare before an argument erupted.
"But–"
"Bear in mind that I've survived alone for quite the time before meeting you. Now, if you'll excuse me." Walking past Fili and slinking away from Kili in a swift motion when he tried to stop her again, she exited the cave and left them bewildered.
"Get some sleep," Thorin ordered starkly. "We start at the first light."
Balin took him aside, his head tilted to the side in confusion. "We were to wait in the mountains until Gandalf joined us—that was the plan."
"Plan's changed," Thorin said dourly. "Bofur, take the first watch."
"The knucklehead," Kili thought for the hundredth time and shut his eyes, letting an exasperated sigh. Every time sleep was about to claim him, he would see the very same thing. Arya walking across the narrow path, slipping on the rocks and falling into the darkness. "No, no. Youare the knucklehead," he corrected himself a while later. "You should have followed the bloody fool wherever she's off to." He had reached new levels of worry, which he didn't know he possessed, and was constantly shifting awkwardly from one side to the other.
As if these thoughts and the feeling of extreme uneasiness were being broadcasted to the rest of the world, Fili found himself mere seconds away from kicking him in the shin. All the huffing noises Kili made every other minute echoed in the silence of the night almost as loudly as the thunders outside, pulling him out of the sweet dream world every time he was ready to drift off.
"With that blasted sighing of yours, it's a wonder anyone in the cave sleeps at all."
The brunet fidgeted a bit and his eyes flickered over the sleeping mound with the blonde mane next to him. "What?" he murmured, startled.
"You're about as subtle as a sledgehammer is what I'm saying."
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
Fili took a deep, calming breath. "Brother dear, for the past seventy-seven years I've been unfortunate enough to share a room with you, and there hasn't been a single night that you didn't sleep like a log. Now she is going away for an hour—you're like a bear in a trap. Stop worrying," he whispered drowsily, "she will come back."
Kili snorted, keeping his expression impassive. "You know not whereof you speak."
The blond scoffed. "Typical response of one in denial. Are you pining from afar, as well?"
"I most certainly do not pine anyone from afar!"
"If not now, I wager you will someday." Fili risked a glance at him, and this time he outright laughed. "Now, save the moody stare for somebody else. It has stopped working on me since long ago."
The glower remained, even after the warning. "Sometimes you are truly insufferable."
"Maybe," the blond prince yawned and turned his back to him. "It is for your own good, though."
The Ranger was unable to find another safer place and she decided to return, resign seamed all over her face. Bofur was startled at first when a hooded figure entered the cave, but relaxed as soon as he realised it was her. "Not a good day to search for shelter, is it?" he said quietly.
Her eyes flickered over the king's figure, sending a glare so severe that he could possibly feel something poking him, and she let a disheartening huff. "Finding anything remote to that round these parts would be very fortunate," she mumbled. "And luck is a concept that seems to be in constant clash with my very existence."
At that, Bofur coughed not so discreetly to hide a small laughter. He recalled a memory of some weeks ago, when they discussed about her with Fili. The lad was right, she was quite the company to have in a long journey, despite her being grim at times and look as if she carried all the burdens of the world on her shoulders.
She was still tense from the confrontation with Thorin and her anger had not subsided in the slightest, on top of a big bubble of frustration due to her unsuccessful attempt to find a better place for them. So she offered to keep Bofur some company until sleep came to her, if it would at all, and placed herself on his opposite next to the entrance before taking off the tight bodice that still made her skin painfully itchy. It was a matter of principle to keep her sword and knives on her belt, though, so as to always be vigilant and not linger over strapping them on, lest any danger hovered over the horizon; only her bow and quiver she set aside for practical reasons. Putting the star-shaped clasp that held the cloak around her neck into a small pocket on the side of her boot —the same in which she held her cousin's knife— she let the cloak plop on the ground and then tiredly slumped back on it.
"What did you do before the quest?" she asked, keeping her voice very low to avoid wake someone up.
"Ah," Bofur said and flashed a bright smile. "I'm a toymaker, m'lady. One of the best," he continued shyly, although there was a hint of pride in his tone, "if I may add."
Arya lightly bobbed her head, not at all surprised at how fitting it sounded. "It suits you," she praised. He was always in an optimistic mood; it was equal parts annoying as it was enviable.
"Dear old cousin Bifur and meself were crafting mechanical toys. Very famous in the market of Dale, they were."
"My little brother adored those. Once, my mother had bought him one—a small pony with a rider on top of it. I remember him carrying it everywhere," she laughed under her breath, good memories flooding her mind, though after a few moments her laughter faded. "He was holding it even during his last moments."
The dwarf brooded about the young woman's past. She had lived through bad situations in her life and she was not supposed to. He gave her a sympathetic smile and watched the sleeping figure of someone who was laid down next to her unconsciously shift closer and sprawl his head on her stomach.
With eyes wide in terror Arya looked askance at the sleeping form of Kili, wondering after how long that should start to be considered a threat. Apart from the obvious loathing he harbored for her —as per his own words— she had no doubt there were moments he simply wanted to throw her into the nearest river and let the water do all the rest. However, his fairly relieved reaction upon seeing that she wasn't injured earlier had befuddled her tremendously. That, coupled with the current frown on his face and elevated heartbeat —signs of a bad dream most likely— managed to pull whatever strings had remained in that cavity in her chest that apparently wasn't that hollow after all. All too familiar with nightmares herself, she took pity on him and made no move to roll him away.
The symmetry of his face was disrupted by those two recalcitrant curls that had got in his eyes; it irked her. Fingers brushed them out of the way, but that didn't wake him. Mechanically her hand slumped on his chest, not knowing where else was an acceptable place to go, and he still did not wake. His hand came to rest on top, pressing hers onto his sternum, and she felt his heartbeat slowly return to normal after a while.
She didn't know what came over her, but... would it be that bad to just let him sleep there and not disturb him? It would be only for a night after all, and no one would pay mind to it in the morning, mainly because she'd take care not to let anyone else witness this... this downright shocking sight. And all this because she couldn't find it in her to move him away just yet.
"The lad likes ye, y'know," Bofur whispered suddenly, allowing a faint smirk to creep up to his face.
A titter evaded her mouth and she made a dismissive gesture. "Doubt it. 'Tis just that I'm probably warmer than the cold ground and he's craving a soft pillow."
She was unbelievably tempted to wake Kili up so that he could reassure Bofur himself, but decided against it. Kili was using her as a pillow now and would return to hating her in the morning. This was simply the order of things and she doubted it'd change soon.
Bofur was about to inform her that she had used Kili as a pillow already a couple of times, but saw her eyes slowly close and thought it better to let her rest.
Still caught somewhere between dream and reality, Kili felt his head laying against something rather smooth and warm than the cold, stony ground he had fallen asleep on. His eyes opened in tiny slits, facing a small, familiar hand entwined with his own on his chest first, of all things. With a sigh of relief he realised Arya had finally retur-
"Why in the name of hell are we holding hands?" he thought frantically. "Where did that come from?" This was news, and pretty disturbing at that. What on earth had possessed them both? Aside from the hands it was also a little alarming that he was actually sleeping on her, and it made him wonder how he'd ended up there without her kicking him away in the first place.
The part that mostly alarmed him, however, was that his cheek was squishing something. Something soft and round. A blush covered his face and he shrunk back in genuine fright upon realising what it was. He sharply removed his head from that part of her body, slightly lifting it to face her and proceeding to thank all the gods he knew, for her eyes were still shut. Had she been awake and found him hovering over that area, he definitely didn't wish to know the way she'd choose to kill him, although he was pretty certain it'd be a very torturing one.
Arya, now, was anything but asleep. In fact, she felt him fidget around so nervously that he ended up squishing places he had no business being so close to.
"Do you have ants in your pants?"
The whisper, as subtle as it was annoyed, had Kili still on the spot like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"Unless you plan to stop bouncing your head on me," she continued with eyes still closed, trying to sound strict, "move your arse away."
Angrily he looked up and offered a silent curse to the skies that couldn't be seen, yet for a preposterous reason that originated from the deepest places of his subconscious, he did not move —as she most kindly pointed out— his arse away. Thus their sleeping arrangements were maintained, except that his face now was in a secure distance from touching forbidden places again. Just about then he thought his human pillow shook with a breathless laugh, although he couldn't quite put his finger on it, seeing as he was already half-asleep again. Little did he know that all this time she was trying to focus on the disconcerting sound her fingers produced as they rhythmically tapped the stony ground—a rather difficult task, considering the company's loud snoring that easily rivaled some of the thunders.
Bofur was dawdling from one side of the cave to the other and missed the whole scene between the two. When he eventually returned to his spot next to the entrance, a shuffling noise came from the back. The Ranger's eyes gingerly popped open and cast a wary glance at the dwarf on watch who paid it back, both wondering for the source of the noise, until they saw the hobbit hurrying to pack his stuff as quietly as he could.
Bilbo loaded the bag on his shoulders, grabbed his walking stick and silently weaved his way through the sleeping members towards the cave's entrance, careful not to make any noise, only to find Bofur and the Ranger staring at him inquiringly.
"Where do ye think you're going?"
The hobbit hesitated at first, but set his jaw straight once he pondered on the events of the day. "Back to Rivendell."
"No, Bilbo, don't leave." It held a far more pleading tone than the one she was aiming for, but she didn't seem to care much.
"Ye can't go back now. You're part of the company," Bofur said eagerly. "You're part of us."
"I'm not though, am I?" he asked bitterly. "Thorin said I should never have come and he was right. I am not a Took, I'm a Baggins. I don't know what I was thinking–"
"What your last name is has hardly anything to do with who you are," Arya told him with a solemn look. A thought crossed her mind right then, and she seriously considered the moment perfect to walk over where Thorin lay and smack the back of his fat head; a mighty smack for the high and mighty King under the Mountain—it sounded exquisitely fitting. If he had kept his mouth shut or, even better, never said what he told Bilbo outside the cave, none of this would be happening right now. "Please, stay. Do not take Thorin's words to heart—they were spoken in ire."
Perhaps they were, perhaps they were not. Bilbo didn't know how to interpret them, although he had inkling of what might have triggered the dwarf king to speak as such, recalling a conversation he had overheard in Rivendell and the information he got from it.
"I understand why ye want to leave," Bofur fervently insisted. "You're homesick–"
"No, you don't!" the hobbit snapped in a low voice. "None of you do. You're dwarves. You are used to never settling in one place, not belonging anywhere!" He immediately regretted his words and awkwardly cleared his throat. "I– I am sorry, I didn't–"
"No you're right... We don't belong anywhere," a whisper left Bofur's lips as he shot a pensive glance at his sleeping comrades. "I wish you all the luck in the world," he suddenly turned to face him, a kind smile tugging his mouth. "I really do."
The hobbit turned to bid goodbye to the Ranger. "I am truly sorry... but I don't think the Wild is a place for someone like me." He somehow felt like he had disappointed her, because of the fact that she believed in him; believed he would follow through the quest.
"I honestly think you are mistaken. You are free if you wish to leave, though," she said softly and smiled at him as he was ready to walk out of the cave, until a light caught her eye. "Hold up, there..."
Bofur noticed it as well. "What's that?" he pointed at the hobbit's waist.
Bilbo looked down at his middle, where his sword was glowing blue. The realisation came later than panic. He could feel it taking over, paralysing him.
The ground rumbled underneath them.
Every second stretched to eternity, or so it felt to Arya, who realised unfortunately too late that the sound her tapping fingers made was because the ground was hollow. The first thing that came to mind was to free herself of Kili's capture. The prince was roused by a hand shaking his shoulder violently. He locked eyes with her, still caught somewhere between sleep and reality, disappointed to be woken. For the briefest of moments he cracked a lopsided smile, trying to remember what his latest dream was about, until he saw her horrified expression and her face avert from his own in alert.
Arya's eyes hastily searched the cave to find the king who, as she suspected, wasn't so much asleep as one would hope. Her earlier warning confirmed, she raised an eyebrow and shot him a look that was pure I-told-you-so.
It did not take Thorin more than two seconds to spot her spiky gaze. It made him dread any sort of snipe about certain people not heeding their guide's advice, more than anything, that would undoubtedly follow at some point. He was something more than tired and had no desire whatsoever to have his mistakes rubbed in his face.
The ground groaned and shuddered again as the sand started to slip into orifices. The two of them paused, their attention on it as if transfixed by the motion.
"Wake up," his booming voice startled everyone that was still asleep. "Wake up!"
The ground was cleaved in two. Bilbo lost his footing almost immediately and everyone else followed soon after. Deep caverns and darkness engulfed them like a tomb.