AN: Hey guys...uh...Sorry about last week. I did mean to post, but I only had one page written up so... Also, I meant to post yesterday like normal, but I was at comicon and knocked out the second I got home. But here is the new chapter! I really hope it makes up for the wait! And I really hope I'll get the next chapter out on time! Enjoy!
OOOOO
Thorin had taken to sitting on the wall above the gates of Erebor. It didn't provide a particularly beautiful view, only the ruins of Dale and the Desolation of Smaug, but he didn't mind that. The cool winter air kept his mind sharp, and objective. And the solitude was a blessed relief. Ever since he'd come back to his senses, he had noticed the looks the others were giving him. Suspicion and caution and a suffocating relief. It was all too much, on a good day. Today was not a good day.
The Raven Roäc had informed Thorin of the three incoming armies just that morning. Thranduil and his Elves of Mirkwood. Bard and the Men of the Lake. And worst of all, Azog and his legions of orcs. Naturally, Thorin had sent for Dain and his army, and his cousin would come this time. But Thorin knew Azog would not be defeated with Dain's army alone. There had to be some way to gain an alliance with Thranduil and Bard. He already had an idea, which he'd discussed with Balin, who agreed with him. His adviser was, in all probability, retrieving the necessary items as he sat there.
He shook his head, forcing himself not to think of the treasury Balin was surely sorting through at that very moment. He hadn't gone back into the big, glowing room, for almost three weeks. He's not set foot in that cursed room since Bilbo left. Or rather, since Legolas left, dragging the Hobbit behind him like a child. Thorin wanted to be mad at the Elf, more than anything he wanted that, but he couldn't. Legolas was just protecting the Hobbit, as Thorin wished he could have. Legolas had always tried to keep Bilbo safe. Sometimes Thorin wished Bilbo had stayed in Mirkwood. He would have been safe there.
That brought another thought to the King's mind. Would Bilbo be amongst the Elves of Mirkwood on their way to Erebor? Would Thorin have the chance to show Bilbo he was better? Would the Elves give him that chance? He doubted it. He'd have to fight tooth and nail just to see Bilbo from a distance, knowing Thranduil and Legolas. But he could still hope. Wish. Long for a chance to prove himself.
"Thorin." He looked up, a little surprised, to find Balin standing near him. The older Dwarf looked relieved for a moment, before a political mask fell onto his face and he sat next to the Dwarf King. Thorin knew the relief was because he hadn't reverted back to Gold Madness. Balin never flat out asked him if he was slipping back towards the Sickness, but he always checked the King's eyes and face for signs of the Gold Fever.
"Are the preparations done then?" Thorin asked softly, turning his eyes back out towards the empty, for the moment, plains before Erebor. In a few days, they would be brimming with people. Elves, Men, Dwarves, and unfortunately orcs. Would there also be a Hobbit there? Just one, small Hobbit.
"Aye, everything's ready." Balin told him dutifully. Thorin nodded, hoping Balin would have no ulterior motive for seeking him out. But what were the realistic chances of that. "Thinkin' about Master Baggins again?" Balin asked, with a knowing tone to his voice.
"If I am, what is the harm?" Thorin asked, only a little defensively.
"Thorin...you know that Master Baggins does not belong in Erebor." Balin spoke softly, as gently as possible, but Thorin still frowned, his eyes narrowing.
"He could belong here."
"No, Thorin. He belongs in the Shire with the others of his kind. Perhaps there is a reason Hobbits have never ventured from their land before Master Baggins. We have seen what the journey did to Bilbo. And now, he needs to be somewhere special, somewhere he can recover and become the Hobbit he once was. Before the cutting." Thorin was silent for a long moment, and when at last he spoke, his voice was heavy with sadness and something akin to denial.
"Why can't that be here? Why can't he be the Hobbit he once was here, with me? Why can't he be with me?" Balin sighed and put a firm, but comforting, hand on Thorin's shoulder.
"Perhaps someday Thorin. But you know as well as I do that it will not be soon. You have a Kingdom to restore and rule, and he has himself to heal." Balin's voice was firm, it reminded Thorin of his father. In many ways, Balin had become like a father to him. He trusted the older Dwarf, with his very life. As much as he didn't want to, he knew he had to trust Balin on this matter. For Bilbo's sake, and his people as well. Erebor had to come first, as much as it pained him. But he had worked so hard, and for so long, to get his kingdom back. And now Azog wanted to take it away.
"What is the estimated arrival of the armies?" Thorin asked, banishing all weakness from his voice, and pushing the previous conversation away firmly. Balin sighed, but accepted the chance of subject.
"Thranduil and Bard will be here in three days, Dain will arrive one or two days after them. Azog will be close behind him, a day or so at maximum." Balin explained, face firmly set in a frown. Thorin nodded solemnly.
"The defenses...has there been any luck rebuilding them?" Thorin forced himself not to sound hopeful.
"The wall will stand, if it comes to a siege. Supplies will be the main worry after that. Bard and Thranduil will be bringing some, but they're also bringing large armies." Thorin nodded, squinting his eyes a little. If he looked hard, he could almost see subtle movement in the distance, towards Lake Town. It was an advantage of the flat plains surrounding the mountain, it gave him a wide range of view.
"Do you think we even have a chance Balin?" Thorin murmured. The numbers Roäc had reported suggested they may be ousted from the mountain just as they were getting comfortable.
"Well...no one thought we had a chance in the Battle of Azanulbizar. Nor did they hold out hope that we would reclaim the mountain." Balin pointed out, but Thorin wasn't quite in the mood for a pep talk.
"Balin." He muttered bluntly, giving the older Dwarf a look to convey just how not in the mood he was. Balin sighed, but shrugged noncommittally.
"There's always a chance lad. We Dwarves have a habit of succeeding when given the smallest of chances. But I cannot promise you anything." Thorin nodded, a little sadly, and turned his eyes back to the barest hint of movement he could see.
"That will have to be enough for now."
OOOOO
Bilbo winced and cringed away for what felt like the dozenth time. His neck was so sore from the collar, and all of the failed attempts to get rid of it. They'd surely tried at least a hundred different methods by now, and the collar remained firmly around his neck. Currently Legolas and Tauriel were trying to heat the metal up to a point that it would become malleable, without burning him. Needless to say, he was a little edgy.
"Perhaps if we used one of the Ancient blades?" Tauriel whispered over Bilbo's head to Legolas, as if Bilbo couldn't hear them clear as day. His legs itched, but he resisted the urge to scratch them. As best as he could figure, Smaug's venom was still coursing through his veins, even if it was just a little bit. So whenever he cut, the venom tried to seal the wounds. But there wasn't enough to actually heal them, only make them itch really. If Bilbo didn't need the cutting, he would stop for a few weeks until the venom was completely gone. But he did need it. He needed it more than he needed to breathe.
"What difference do you really think it will make?" Legolas bit, maybe with a little more force than necessary.
"Well do you have anymore bright ideas? All the ones you've come up with to this point have been of great use!" Tauriel snapped in reply.
"Enough." Thranduil drawled as he entered the small tent Bilbo was "sharing" with the blond and the redhead. He didn't want to share it with them, but there was literally no power in Middle Earth to remove the two Elves. They hardly left him alone, even to...relieve himself. It was driving the Hobbit ever closer to a complete madness. "The men grow tired of your bickering." Thranduil added, gesturing for Legolas and Tauriel to step away from Bilbo, who look comically irritated.
"We are not bickering, we are merely discussing!" Legolas huffed under his breath.
"And Mordor is just a hot spring." Thranduil retorted with a raised brow. He quickly continued on before either could retort. "Bard requests your help, Tauriel, in the armor tent. And I believe I told you to join the watch tonight, my son." Immediately there were protests.
"But Bilbo-"
"What about-"
"I am sure that Master Baggins understands your sincerity and appreciates your apparent fixation with watching over him. But I am sure he is also quite fed up with your constant presence, as any of us would be." Bilbo kept his face directed at the floor as suddenly three pairs of eyes turned to him, looking for a denial or a confirmation of Thranduil's words. "Off you two go." Thranduil ordered, his cold blue eyes just daring the younger Elves to protest. They both hesitated, but Tauriel gave in quickly, bowing her head and stalking out of the tent with a frown firmly pulling down her lips. Legolas resisted leaving for longer, but eventually he sighed too.
"I'll be back in no time Bilbo." He promised the Hobbit, who didn't look up from the ground, merely nodded. Legolas delayed for another long moment before sighing and slowly walking out of the tent. And then there was silence, as Bilbo was left staring at the ground, intently ignoring the Elvenking standing in his tent. Thranduil wasn't deterred, in fact he had expected the silent treatment. Everyone, even Bard, was receiving the cold shoulder of Bilbo Baggins and no one could quite understand why. The only person he should be mad at was Thorin, and the Dwarf was still days away.
Never the less, Thranduil had a plan to break Bilbo's silence, and the first step was already accomplished. His son and Tauriel had been absolutely suffocating Bilbo for the last full week, it was no real wonder why Bilbo looked so frustrated all the time. But Bard had agreed to keep Tauriel busy for at least a few hours, and Legolas was due for a full night's shift of watch duty. With them preoccupied, Thranduil could try to sooth Bilbo's obviously frazzled nerves, for a start. Hopefully more could come of it.
But for that moment, all Thranduil did was take a seat at the small table across the tent from Bilbo, acting rather aloof actually. He even brought a book to read while the Hobbit brooded. Something he'd picked up from Oakenshield, no doubt.
It didn't take as long as Thranduil thought it would before Bilbo sighed and lost the tension in his little shoulders. For the last week, Bilbo had been tense as a rock, at the best of times. Straight backed, rigid shoulders, scowling face. But seeing him without the tension was almost harder than seeing him with it. Now he looked...tired. And heavy, like too many burdens weighed on his weary mind. Thranduil imagined there were indeed far too many burdens and demons lurking just inside Bilbo's fragile mind. Threatening to tear him to pieces at all moments. They might even be tearing him apart as they sat there, Thranduil reading and Bilbo staring at the floor.
Bilbo hesitantly, after a quick glance at Thranduil, relaxed back onto his bed, hand coming up to idly, and most likely subconsciously, fiddle with the silver collar. A look of profound sadness crossed his face before it soothed into something akin to...contentment. Which confused Thranduil, to be sure, but he wasn't going to question the look. It was the closest thing to happiness he'd seen on Bilbo's face, in all the days he'd known the little Hobbit. He wondered what it was about the collar that provoked the look though. It only seemed to appear when Bilbo touched the silver band around his throat.
Bilbo fell still again, except for the slow stroking of his fingers over the metal around his neck, so Thranduil returned his attention to his book. He expected silence, and a lot of it. What he didn't expect was only an hour of stillness before Bilbo suddenly sat up, a look of determination settled on his soft features. The Hobbit stood resolutely for a few moments before crossing the tent and sitting at the table across from Thranduil, who could only look curiously at the Hobbit over the top of his book.
In the end, Bilbo said nothing. He merely reached into his left pocket and pulled out a big, glowing, white gem which Thranduil instantly recognized. It looked so much bigger than he remembered it, especially in Bilbo's little hands. The Hobbit carefully put the Arkenstone on the table and slid it across the smooth surface towards Thranduil. When it was clear that he was giving it to the king, he pulled his hand back, empty, and stood again. Thranduil watched him walk back to his bed, lay back down in a curled up ball, and shut his eyes. Much of the weight which Thranduil had observed, pulling Bilbo's shoulders down and making his head bow, seemed to disappear after he gave the Arkenstone away. He seemed so much lighter as he made himself as comfortable as possible and fell asleep.
Thranduil couldn't help but smile a little at the small act of utter innocence. Then his cold blue eyes turned to the radiant gem before him, and the smile turned sour, pulling the corners of his lips down. Now then. What was he going to do with this? No doubt Thorin would be livid when he found out Thranduil had the Jewel of Durin's line. But it would be a very useful bargaining chip. It couldn't have been easy for Bilbo to keep it hidden from Thorin, while he was still in the mountain. Although, from what Legolas had told him, it may have been very easy after all.
In any case, it was no longer Bilbo's burden to bear. There were still many he did bear, some he did not have to, but he would cling to them regardless. One at a time, Thranduil hoped he could relieve those burdens. He hoped this was merely the beginning, and that he could help Bilbo. The Hobbit desperately needed help. Whether or not he would accept it, was the only problem.
OOOOO
"Bilbo?" The Hobbit glanced up from the idle picture he was drawing and his eyes met with those of Gandalf the Grey. A smile tried to quirk up the corners of his lips, but if Gandalf could actually see it was another matter. "My boy, it's been far too long." Gandalf continued, sitting next to the Hobbit, and not missing the way Bilbo cringed before forcing himself to relax.
"Before Mirkwood." Bilbo acknowledged. He was doing better with talking to people, but never more than a few words at a time. And never anything that really mattered.
"Yes, well, I had important matters to attend to. I returned as soon as I could, I assure you." The old wizard gave him a small smile, but his eyes told of a deep rooted exhaustion, most likely gained from his side venture. "I heard that I missed a fair bit of excitement. Something about a Dragon and a Mad Dwarf and young Hobbit lad all caught up in the middle of it." This time Bilbo's smile was noticeable, though it looked more like a grimace than anything. "I also heard this particular Hobbit lad...did not have the best method of dealing with the things he was caught up in." Gandalf added, his tone deepening with sadness and concern. Any trace of the grimace-smile disappeared and Bilbo looked down.
He realized with a start that he had been drawing Smaug. Usually when he tried to draw, he ended up losing himself in the act, his mind whiting out as his hands worked effortlessly. And he never knew what he was drawing until he came back to his mind. This time it was the Dragon, in Man form, holding that golden goblet with green jewels and engraved leaves. The collar on his neck, cleverly hidden by a nice warm scarf, seemed to heat up with the memory of Smaug and the strange attachment he'd developed to the Dragon.
"Bilbo?" Gandalf murmured, but the Hobbit did not look up. "I am not upset with you Bilbo Baggins. Well, I may be a little upset, but it is mostly with myself. I should have know...there is a reason Hobbits stay in the Shire after all." The wizard sighed heavily, the exhaustion in his eyes leeching out into his face.
"I can't go back." Bilbo whispered, and Gandalf nodded softly.
"I know. I am sorry Bilbo." Gandalf spoke softly, a frown pulling down the corners of his lips. "I believe Thranduil would be thrilled to take you in though." He added.
"Beorn." Bilbo said bluntly, his eyes flicking up to Gandalf's face for all of a moment before returning to the unfinished drawing. "I don't want to stay in Mirkwood."
"It is the safest place for you, my young Hobbit friend." Gandalf insisted.
"And I will never be happy there." Bilbo whispered before decisively tossing the sketch into the flames of the bonfire before him. He watched it wither and curl up in the fire until it was nothing more than a blackened husk, before he stood. "But, I don't think I'll ever be happy again." Gandalf's brows creased and he longed to comfort Bilbo. But he at least had enough sense to know that there was really nothing he could do to comfort the Hobbit. He doubted there was anything anyone could do at this point. Instead he decided to be just as blunt as Bilbo was being.
"If you will not be happy anywhere you go, then what is the difference between Beorn's home and Mirkwood?" He demanded. Bilbo, who had taken a few steps away, stopped and looked over his shoulder at the wandering wizard who had pulled him from his content little life in the Shire and thrown him into this big, ugly world that he was finding more and more that he hated.
"The difference is that while I may not find happiness with Beorn...I may find peace. Peace I will never find with Legolas and Tauriel and Thranduil." He admitted before continuing to walk away. This time Gandalf made no move to speak or draw him back. He knew even if he tried, Bilbo would not return. The Bilbo Baggins he once knew, the respectable Hobbit of the Shire, could never return either. Bilbo was lost, wandering in the dark shadows of his mind. Unfortunately, he seemed perfectly content to let the shadows confuse him. Gandalf was beginning to fear no one would be able to shed light on those shadows. And for once, the wizard was scared.
OOOOO
"Hold still Master Baggins...just a few moments more and..." Gandalf faded off as he concentrated his magic on the strip of silver around Bilbo's neck. When Legolas and Tauriel gave up and turned to the wizard for help with the removal, Bilbo was...understandably nervous. Gandalf had never been known for his delicacy or subtly, after all. But he didn't feel a thing as Gandalf tinkered with the lock of the collar. A light buzzing against his skin, maybe, but it wasn't unpleasant.
After another few moments, there was a soft click and then for the first time in what felt like months, Bilbo felt a lack of pressure around his throat. Surprisingly it wasn't relief he felt, but a strange emptiness. He caught the collar as it fell, and looked down at it in a numb sort of detachment. He hadn't really seen what it looked like before. When Smaug put it on him the first time, he had been so upset and his head had been hurting so bad, that the memories were all very sorted. Now that he got a good look at it, he found he couldn't stop looking.
There were vines and leaves engraved in the silver surface, swirling gracefully all across the smooth metal. It was beautiful. And the silver felt much lighter in his hands than it had felt around his throat. Funny how that worked.
"There now. That's done." Gandalf smiled, obviously proud of himself. "Shall I take that for you Bilbo?" He added, his eyes narrowing slightly as he observed Bilbo. The Hobbit stared at the collar for another few moments before closing his hands around the silver circle tightly.
"I'd like to keep it." He murmured, his voice sounding rather distracted. Gandalf's brow furrowed in concern, but eventually he nodded.
"If you'd like to."
"I'm tired. I'm going to lie down." Bilbo's voice was hollow, and a clear dismissal to the wizard. Bilbo didn't wait to see if Gandalf would heed this dismissal. He lay back onto his pillow, bringing his knees to his chest and keeping the collar clutched to his chest. His eyes were far away, perhaps remembering something. Perhaps he was thinking of nothing at all. Gandalf lingered for a few moments before he sighed and left the ten. He was immediately greeted by two spying Elves.
"Did you get it off?" Legolas asked eagerly, obviously itching to go into the tent and see for himself. But Gandalf very effectively barred the way.
"I did. He is resting."
"Where is it? I want to melt it down and toss it in the Lake so Bilbo never has to see it again." The blond Elf demanded, Tauriel nodding her agreement.
"Bilbo has elected to keep the collar." Gandalf told them firmly, and he got no reply. Only identical looks of confusion. "What exactly transpired between Bilbo and Smaug?" Legolas fidgeted a little uncomfortably at the question. He wasn't privy to the full extent of the relationship between the two, but from what he had observed, Bilbo felt safe with Smaug. For whatever reason, he trusted the Dragon. And then Legolas had killed him.
"Why does it matter?" He hissed at Gandalf, maybe a touch defensively. Gandalf's immediate reply was a raised eyebrow. After a few moments of the patronizing look, Legolas sighed and shrugged one shoulder. "From what I saw...Bilbo let himself accept the fact that he would remain with Smaug for a very long time. And he felt secure with that. And then I took the security away from him by ending the beast." He admitted, sighing even as he spoke. Gandalf nodded somewhat gravely.
"As I feared. Bilbo, feeling emotionally compromised, reached out to the one person he had. It just happened to be Smaug."
"But he was a Dragon! He was going to end up hurting Bilbo, why would he get attached to such a monster?" Legolas demanded, again sounding defensive.
"Hobbits are very different creatures from Elves and Men and Dwarves. A little too different. I should never have forced this quest on Bilbo." Gandalf's shoulder sagged visibly and he walked away, leaving the two Elves at the door of the tent. They exchanged glanced before mutually deciding they should let Bilbo have a moment of peace. There was a raging torrent of emotions and memories crashing through the Hobbit, and he deserved a little space.
Inside the tent, Bilbo let a few tears drip from his eyes as he slid his thumb over the smooth silver collar, feeling the delicate engravings. How messed up was he that he missed a Dragon? That he wanted to keep this collar? He would get rid of it someday, but for now, it was the only thing that could give him comfort. A small piece of the security he'd felt upon accepting Smaug's ownership of him.
Even though Smaug was gone, the memory of his deep, commanding voice and the feeling of his long pale fingers petting golden curls remained. And this collar. It was all he had left of Smaug. And even though it was wrong for him to miss a Dragon, he did miss Smaug. So he was going to keep the collar. For as long as he could.
OOOOO
Thorin glanced between Balin and Dwalin as they waited for Thranduil and Bard to approach the gate. Behind him sat a sizable pile of chests, divided into two groups. Gold for the men, and star jewels for the Elves. It was only a primary payment, there would be more to follow after the inevitable battle. But for now, at least, it would show the Men and Elves that the Dwarves of Erebor were intending to keep their promise of payment.
The fields surrounding the Lonely Mountain, which only days ago had been so vacant, so devoid of life, now positively teemed with life. At night, when the fires were lit, Thorin was sure it would look like an army of fireflies, laid out before his mountain. Currently it just looked like a big muddy mess of Men and Elves. A small group broke away from the large mass and slowly, as they approached the mountain, they grew more distinct until Thorin could identify them.
Thranduil and Bard were at the front of the small progression, along with Gandalf, surprisingly enough. Behind them, Legolas and the red haired Elf lass Thorin remembered from Mirkwood marched next to Bard's son, Bain. Another Man, one Thorin was unfamiliar with, also marched behind Bard. Five Elves and five Men brought up the rear, for protection or for intimidation, Thorin did not know. In those ten people, he could not see any Hobbits. But he was unsurprised that, if Bilbo was even in the camp, they had not brought him along. Why would they, after all?
He glanced at Balin again before stepping forward, meeting the Men and Elves, and wizard, halfway.
"Welcome." He stated before they could say anything. "To the Lonely Mountain. I thank you for coming, as the impending army of Orcs and Goblins is...quite sizable. Erebor is in need of assistance. And in exchange, we are willing to pay any amount you demand. Here, we have gathered a mere glimpse of what you will earn for coming to our aid." Thorin gestured behind him, to the stacks of chests, before falling silent and waiting for a reply. He was greeted with...surprise. Very definite surprise.
Bard didn't look too shocked, though he did look pleasantly impressed. Thranduil on the other hand, couldn't quite cover all his incredulity with his usual mask, some of it snuck through. Legolas made no move to hide his doubt, and even Gandalf let his brows furrow in maybe confusion.
"You are most gracious...King Thorin." Thranduil finally spoke, when it became evident no one else was going to. "I was...under the impression you would not be so willing to part with your treasure." At this he sent a somewhat pointed look at his son, who narrowed his eyes even more suspiciously and angrily at Thorin, if that were even possible. He already looked about two moments away from throttling the Dwarf.
"I was temporarily...discomposed by the mighty wealth of Erebor. But certain events allowed me to return to a stable mental state." He promised, puffing out his chest in pride. "But the matter of Gold Madness is not our current dilemma. There is a might army coming which wants nothing but death and destruction for us all." He added, hopeful that they could move on.
"All of us? Or just you?" Legolas sneered before anyone could say anything rational or helpful.
"All of us." Thorin repeated, clenching his jaw for a moment before composing himself and addressing them with the most political voice possible. "If Azog the Defiler and his army take the mountain, do you then suppose they will stop? Lake Town will be their next target, and after it, Mirkwood. Between the mighty army and the sickness in your forest, how long do you suppose you will withstand them?" There was no answer, though Legolas did look cowed for a moment before he resumed his mask of hatred for Thorin. "The best chance any of us have is to combine our forces and destroy the army here and now."
"I agree." Bard murmured when no one spoke. "The Men of the Lake are more than willing to help, in exchange for the right to rebuild our lost home. Many of the Lake Men are descendents of Dale, myself included. We would like to see it in glory and prosperity once again."
"Of course. I can think of no better course of action. You will have all the gold you will need to rebuild your city." Thorin agreed happily. Then his eyes turned to Thranduil expectantly. The Elf took a few moments to consider everything before sighing through his nose.
"You make a valid point, helping you will be helping ourselves in the long run. And you are obviously willing to repay us for our assistance. I see no reason we cannot discuss an alliance, especially given the truce Master Balin and I came to when you were in my halls." Thranduil spoke regally and calmly. Then he gestured and one of his five Elves came forth, a box in his hands. "As a token of good faith, I shall return this to you. All I ask is that it is put away somewhere it will be unable to affect those of your line, as it has in the past." Thorin's brow creased in confusion for what could possibly be in the box, but then it was opened, and his eyes grew wide with recognition.
The Arkenstone. Oh, it was more beautiful than he remembered. More alluring...more precious... No! He would not let it infect his mind. Cautiously he walked forward until he was before the box and he very carefully closed the lid. Then he gestured for Balin to take the box.
"I am...curious to know how my family's jewel came to be in your possession." Thorin's voice was tenser than it had been moments ago, but he did not sound as accusing as Thranduil imagined he might.
"It was given to me quite recently. I was...unsure of whether or not I would need to use it as a bargaining tool. Evidently, negotiations are going smoothly and therefor, I return it to you freely." Thorin's eyes narrowed the tiniest amount.
"Given to you. By whom?" He asked, voice a little darker, but still very even. Thranduil hesitated, debating what to say to make Thorin drop the subject. Before he could think of anything to say, a small voice spoke from the crowd of Men and Elves.
"I gave it to him." The Dwarf King looked up at the small, gentle voice of Bilbo Baggins. The Hobbit slowly emerged from the cocoon of Big Folk, walking forward until he was next to Legolas. Or rather, half hidden behind Legolas. He looked sheepish and smaller than usual, surrounded by so many big people. His eyes were wide and vulnerable and there was a bruise on his cheek, which made Thorin's stomach twist with guilt. He had done that. He had hurt Bilbo. But apart from that, nothing much looked wrong with the Hobbit. He was wearing short sleeves even, showing off pale, uncut arms, littered with scars. But no cuts.
Everything about Bilbo was like an accusation to Thorin. Scars, so many of them, caused by him and his company. A bruise that he could remember inflicting so mercilessly. And he was so small. How many meals had Bilbo forfeited because his stomach could not hold food, being so riled up? But there he was, with the Elves and Men and Gandalf, whole and safe. But...not safe enough. For Mahal's sake, there was going to be a war raging here soon enough! As glad as Thorin was to see Bilbo, he was also dismayed! He had to say something, do something, to make Bilbo leave this place. He had to think of some way to get Bilbo to leave, and go to Mirkwood, or somewhere else that would be safe.
He knew what he should do. He should pretend to be angry with the Hobbit. He should profess hatred for the being and demand he leave his sight. He didn't want to. Mahal knew he didn't want to. But everyone there seemed to be looking at him the same way. Thranduil, Legolas, hell even Bard. Even Gandalf was giving him a look that suggested he should break all ties with Bilbo, for good, right then. He should break Bilbo's little heart and get the Hobbit to go away, far away. And Bilbo had unfortunately given the King the perfect ammunition.
"You?" Thorin grunted, and Bilbo nodded hesitantly. Thorin glanced from Thranduil, Legolas, and Gandalf to Balin, who gave him a little nod. This was for the best. If Bilbo left, he would be safe from the oncoming battle. Safe from Thorin. As much as it would hurt Thorin to make him go, he knew he had to. "You had the Arkenstone in your possession...and you gave it to the Elves instead of to me?" Again Bilbo nodded, but it was much more hesitant, fear crossing his little face. "You miserable Hobbit! You undersized...burglar! Curse you Gandalf for making us choose such a traitorous whelp! Leave this place and never return! No friendship of mine goes with you!" Thorin roared, feeling his heart break at the look of hurt and sadness on Bilbo's face.
The Hobbit looked up at Gandalf, and then Legolas, and he pleaded with his eyes for them to say it wasn't true. That Thorin wasn't telling him to leave and that he wasn't angry with him. After all, Thorin was better. He wasn't Gold Mad, they could all see it. So why was he angry with him? Did the Arkenstone have that strong a hold on Thorin, that it would turn him on Bilbo just like that? He looked to all of them desperately, begging silent for them to say it wasn't true.
Instead, all any of them did was look angry or regretful, making Bilbo buy into the illusion that Thorin hated him and wished him gone. Legolas even put his hand on Bilbo's shoulder, and Bilbo shuddered under his touch.
"T-Thorin please, you have to understand, I-"
"I do not care for the words of thieves and liars! Now get out burglar! If I never see your face again, it will be too soon!" Bilbo flinched at the harsh words and tears welled in his eyes. "Go before I change my mind and have you thrown in a cell you lying traitor!" Finally, Legolas began leading Bilbo away, though the Hobbit looked veritably frozen in place. He kept looking back, the shock on his face giving way to the most soul crushing wounded look. Thorin had to look away, directing his hard stare to Thranduil instead. Once Bilbo was far away from them and their voices, Gandalf spoke.
"You did the right thing Thorin." The grey wizard murmured.
"Did I indeed? Did you see his face?" Thorin rumbled, feeling the ache in his chest grow with every moment, remembering the pain on his little Hobbit's face. His greatest wish in that moment was to go after Bilbo. To apologize and hold him and love him.
"He is not safe here, where a battle will soon rage. And he cannot stay in Erebor after the battle, you know that as well as I. He belongs somewhere safe, where he will not have any reason to harm himself." Gandalf sounded so sure. Thorin was not as sure. But he sighed, and nodded stiffly. Balin squeezed his shoulder and took over the negotiations, knowing Thorin would need time to recover from what he had just done.
He could still see the hurt and the fear in Bilbo's eyes. The pleading and the disbelief. It wasn't fair to the Hobbit. None of it was. Sure, sending him away was for the best, but it still wasn't fair. Just because Thorin might be saving his life did not mean he was not breaking Bilbo's heart. And breaking the Hobbit's heart was almost worse than seeing him die. Almost.
OOOOO
AN: Feel free to leave a comment or question about the chapter or story in general. Thanks a bunch!