Chapter Eleven – The Golden Son
Bilba cried herself to sleep early that evening and thanks to a little magic from Gandalf she did not dream. It was not exactly a restful sleep, nor peaceful, but it was not wrought with horrible memories.
In the morning she awoke to an elven healer mixing a sweet draught. It was for her nerves, he said, and she could drink it with tea.
"The best thing for my nerves would be a pipe," she said just as Gandalf was stepping into the tent with a hot cup of tea. Where he managed to procure it was a mystery.
He laughed. "I apologize then. I haven't brought any pipe-weed with me."
She ducked her head to hide a slight frown. "For the best, I suppose. I have no idea what became of my pipe." Which was a lie. She knew exactly where her pipe was. It was in her bag in the mountain next to Thorin's bed. But for all she knew or cared her bag could have been set on fire, and she didn't want to dwell on it.
He sat down and handed her the cup. "Well, then I'll be sure to replace it as soon as I can."
She shook her head. "When we're back in the Shire just get me some Old Toby. I've got plenty of pipes."
"For you, I'd buy a barrel."
Bilba picked up the draught and gave it a sniff before deciding to drink it all at once. At first it was nice, it tasted like berries, but it had an aftertaste that could knock over a horse.
Gandalf had a good laugh over the faces she made, but as they both settled down they sat in silence, unsure quite what to say to each other now.
Gandalf watched her take sips of tea and wince sometimes as she swallowed. Her neck had gone a sickening mix of blues and browns. She'd had her shoulders looked at by the healer the day before. They looked worse than her neck to be honest, but her shoulders did not make every deep breath feel like a punishment.
She looked up with determined eyes and Gandalf sighed. He knew that she knew exactly what he'd come here to say. She sat in her mithril armor with her sword on her hip. He didn't waste his breath trying to plead one last time for her to go. Her mind was made up. Gandalf was not yet sure if it was stubbornness, braveness, or self-destruction.
He wished, not for the first time, that he had the foresight of elves. He still found it hard to believe that Bilba and Thorin had been courting. She spilled all her pains to him last evening while she cried. The two had been practically engaged by dwarven standards for dwarves rarely courted if they did not intend to see it through to the very end. Gandalf never imagined things would go so far. Now Bilba sat in a tent, nursing tea and a broken heart.
He never meant to cause her pain or bring her grief.
"Oh, my dear," he took the mug from her shaking hands and put it aside. "I'm sorry. I never wanted these things to happen."
"Nor did I," she said and clasped her hands in her lap. "And I don't think I regret what I did. No, I don't regret it at all. Even if Thorin hates me. It just hurts, Gandalf. I don't think I've ever hurt so badly. If we had never," she stopped and reigned back her emotions. "If we just stayed like we had before, just always fighting, I would have been able to take his hate now. But now," she hung her head but she did not cry. Her tears had all be spent.
"It is not my place to speak," he said, "But given what I know of dwarvish courting and what I know of Thorin himself, I believe he genuinely loves you. Things have gotten quite muddled in his mind." Bilba sniffled and brought up a hand to wipe her eyes. "Thorin loves you, Bilba. He will remember it before the end." He said it because he thought it was what she needed to hear. Personally, he would have preferred if they never crossed paths again.
Part of the wizard just wanted to swoop the hobbit up and take her away from Thorin's orbit. He'd made a mistake sending her here. Out of all of the Shire she was undoubtedly his best option, but that didn't mean it was wise. He could have chosen a dwarf, or a man. But he also knew she was heartbroken and in love, even after all of this. He could not be more cruel to her and say Thorin did not love her still, or that she should stop loving him. That wasn't something you could just control.
And he did not know the truth about what Thorin felt for her now, but he knew what he wanted to be true. He wanted whatever would bring Bilba happiness.
"The end," she sighed. "I don't want it to end like this. I tried so hard to keep it from coming to this."
"Even you cannot stop wars. You have allies," he said. "Things will be easier."
"At what cost? I'll never see any of them again. He'll kill me if I go back. I'll never see any of my friends again."
"It is the dragon sickness. It will pass."
She huffed. "And if it does? I still stole the Arkenstone. If by some miracle he forgives me he'll never look at me the same way. He won't trust me and I can't bare that. And what is to say it won't happen again? Another shiny rock, another bit of gold." She lifted her neck to show off Thorin's parting gift. "I can't stand between him and his treasures again."
"When he is free he will realize that you are a greater treasure than the Arkenstone ever was."
She crumpled and hugged her knees. "I know that he's sick. It's a curse, but I can't forgive him right now."
"Nor should you," Gandalf said, anger edging his voice. "And neither shall I. I have no plans to let this matter go by unpunished. Madness or not, you were injured by his hand and had Dwalin not interceded you could have been killed."
"I want to go home," she said. "I just want all of this war nonsense to be over so that I can go home and forget I ever met Thorin Oakenshield." She looked over at him and opened her mouth to say something but stopped.
"What is it?"
"Shh! Do you hear horns?"
You could see the cracks in Thorin as clearly as if he were made of glass. His misery was etched into his face, tracing wrinkles and old scars and weighing heavily on his eyes.
Where was she? He needed to know where Bilba was. Why did he feel so destroyed for thinking of her?
There was no trace of her anywhere. There was nothing but the memory of her body and her muffled voice.
"Where is she?!" he roared, sagging under the weight of his own body, his hand gripping at the wall to keep him upright. He was dizzy. He was going to be sick again.
All he got were angry and confused looks from his nephews.
"Where is Bilba?" He tried for calm, but it came out all too loud and scratchy in his desperate panic.
Fili's back straightened, and he stood as tall as he could. "She... she's gone, Thorin." His skin prickled.
"What do you mean gone?"
"My sister is gone," he said through gritted teeth. His eyes were on fire and he turned to march away, grabbing Kili by the arm and pulling him along.
What had he done?
He yelled again, something unintelligible, drew back his fist, and slammed it into the stone wall. Thorin didn't exactly have much sanity left in him, maybe not any at all. Fili saw something coming over him and didn't know what it was. That unknown something scared him. He shoved his brother down the hall. "Go! I'll deal with this. Get out of here."
"But-"
"Go, Kili!"
Thorin's screaming was loud enough to bring a few members of the company running, meeting a frantic Kili as he took the stairs at the end of the hall two at a time. It was Dori, Dwalin and Ori.
"I don't know what's going on," he said as he pointed back up the stairs. "Uncle's lost it. Even more than before."
Dwalin ran forward first, Dori jumping to attention not a second later and following him to the mad ranting upstairs. Kili ground his teeth as he hung back and wrapped his arms around himself. Ori bit his lip, unsure of what he should do. He cautiously touched Kili's shoulder. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
He let out a shocked laugh. "I don't know what I've seen, Ori. I'm not going back up there."
He looked over his shoulder as others came up the hall and he silently pointed them towards Thorin. Not that he needed to.
Ori shifted nervously on his feet. "We'll wait down here then. We'll..."
The screaming was filling the hall, and it twisted a knife in Kili's gut. Ori winced sharply. "Or, we, uhm, we could go for a walk. Come on," he said putting a hand on his back. They each threw a look over their shoulder as more and more of their friends came running to the source of the howling that was filling the mountain.
They'd go as far away as it took not to hear him.
Fili wanted his turn to scream and tear his hair out. He wanted to shout and swear and cry. What right did his uncle have to act this way? Fili forced himself to stand as strong as pillar among a growing mass of uneasy faces.
"He's cracked," he said, voice deceptively emotionless.
Dwalin and Dori had already had to wrestle Thorin away from the wall he was trying to beat bloody, but the only blood he was drawing was his own. They even needed Gloin to help keep him still. Now Thorin was just shouting and they couldn't shut him up.
"She's dead. She's gone. I killed her. I killed her!"
When he screamed her name Fili didn't think he deserved to sound so decimated. He shouldn't have reminded him of his mother on the day his father died.
"Just get him out of here!" Fili pleaded. "Lock him in his room or something. I don't care!"
Gloin and Dori had their arms hooked through either of Thorin's. The last of the company filtered up just in time to see a broken man being dragged away.
"He's completely insane," Fili declared. And, Mahal help him, he was going to regret this. He took a deep breath and fought not to rake his hands over his face. "He's not fit to rule. I..." and his hands were shaking then. "For now I am in change and I'm going to speak to Bard." He looked around for a moment and caught a few reassuring nods. "Balin, would you come with me?"
He nodded and fell into step at Fili's side. "Of course, lad."
"Armor," he quietly reminded himself as they walked down the hall. "We should get our armor," he said and looked over.
"Aye, that would be good. I doubt we'll be returning here."
Fili nodded and tried to keep his hands steady.
"You okay there, lad?"
He shook his head. "I have no idea what I'm doing, Balin."
"I'll be here with you every step of the way," he said. "You're going to do fine. You've been training your whole life for this."
"I know how to speak in front of people," he said. "I have never trained to lead an army."
"You've led troops before. Perhaps not into war, but you know how to lead. You were trained for the crown. You're more ready than you think you are. Let Dain lead his troops, and let me advise you."
Part of Fili wanted to take back what he'd said. He didn't want to be in charge. But it was only a small part. This was his duty, and he would see it done. Standing in the armory though, he almost needed to stop and sit down to get himself together. "This is completely mental. I basically just declared myself king."
Balin watched Fili putting on his mail, his face a mask of bravery. "Fili, you are a king. A king I would follow into battle. Not just because it is who you were born to be, but because I have watched you grow up from an infant and I know just how strong of a man you are. You are just as strong as Thorin ever was. Whether you had declared it or not, the crown was going to be put into your hands before this day was done. I'm sure of that."
Fili wasn't sure what to say to that. He swallowed hard and looked at Balin. Behind his mask was not a soldier but a little boy who wanted to home to his mother. Still no matter how much he wanted it he had to be the soldier today.
They helped each other into mail and plates. Balin tucked a helmet under his arms and Fili cautiously reached out, his fingers hovered just over the crown. Thorin had it put there for himself and it sat with his armor in the early days when his madness was not so great.
"I shouldn't," he said quietly. He didn't want it. King's wore their crowns to battle. Everyone knew who the leader was.
Balin put a hand on his shoulder and Fili's arms dropped. "Leave it. You will have plenty of time in the future to wear that crown."
He nodded quietly and let himself be led from the room and from the mountain.
They weren't halfway across the field when horns sounded from the east. Balin's face lit up. "That'll be Dain. Just in time too."
Bilba looked panicked while Gandalf strained his ears. He let out a breath and put a hand on her shoulder. "That is the horn of the Iron Hills. No need to worry."
"At least not yet," she added.
"Yes. Not yet. I'm going to ride out to meet him. Would you like to accompany me?"
She shook her head. "That doesn't sound like the best idea."
"No? Well, in that case come with me."
"Where are we going?" she asked as she stood up and brushed off her shirts.
He just looked innocent and held open the tent flap for her.
"Gandalf?"
"I'm not sure quite how long I'll be gone," he explained. "I shall need someone to keep watch for a friend of mine." He paused to look around. "Ah! Come along, Bilba. Keep up." He led her between groups of men and elves until she was at the southern edge of the camp. Two elves were sitting there, apparently waiting for the wizard. "Legolas, Tauriel. No signs of the orcs yet?"
Legolas shook his head. Tauriel shrugged. "It shouldn't be long, Mithrandir," she said. "A few hours," she estimated. "The scouts keep sending word. They will be here today."
He nodded. "I'm riding out to meet Dain. Miss Baggins is going to sit and keep watch with you." He smiled and watched her settled herself down on a box.
"What I am waiting for?" she asked.
"A raven will be coming, looking specifically for you," he said. "She'll have a message for me about the outcome of her meeting."
"Another raven? What about Coräc?"
Gandalf shook his head. "He'll be arriving late, I fear. You'll be meeting Sarok, she is Coräc's older sister."
Bilba nodded. "You still haven't told me where Coräc's gone."
"You'll find out soon enough. Now I really must be going. Farewell."
She rolled her eyes as he left and crossed her arms to wait quietly. Legolas and Tauriel resumed talking, but in elvish now. She almost laughed at their attempt to exclude her, and she might have if not for the tone of the conversation.
"Fishermen and little boys," he scoffed. "These are no soldiers. Just look at them. They're frightened."
"They try, mellon. Not everyone has been in a fight before." Even Tauriel was nervous and she made her way in this world as a fighter, but she had never been in a battle this big before, and she had never been so outnumbered.
Bilba looked at Legolas with hard eyes until her stare made him turn to look at her. She spoke in the clearest elvish she could. "If you're so worried about the state of the men of Esgaroth then maybe you should leave, Master Legolas."
He was shocked to see she spoke his language.
Tauriel smirked.
"It is my duty," he said.
"And it is their's too. To their families and their homes. What makes you superior enough to mock their fear. All sane folk would be afraid."
"What are you doing way out here, Miss Baggins," Tauriel asked, moving to sit beside her. "Your home is quite a way behind you."
"Bilba," she insisted. "And these are my friends. My family. I would see them to whatever end. I will not turn back now, not matter how many people seem to think I should," she said and frowned. "And most people do," she added. All of them really.
"Friends," Legolas scoffed. "Dwarves do not make friends outside of their own kind."
Bilba's smile was almost fond. "I'll admit, when we first started out I wasn't friends with them, but I've been with them so long I can hardly imagine a life without them. Perhaps if you spent some time with dwarves you'd see that they can just as friendly as anyone else, if a little rougher around the edges. Who knows. Maybe one you'll be stuck somewhere with a dwarf and you'll just have to learn to get along."
"I highly doubt that."
Tauriel laughed. "I think the stars would cease to shine before that day came."
Kili didn't stay gone long. When the screaming abruptly stopped he turned around curious of the new development. He wished he hadn't gone back to the hall. He wished he had just kept walking, getting lost, and never coming back.
There was blood on the wall and he didn't know where it had come from, but he knew it wasn't anything good. It made his stomach turn.
"Where is my brother?" he asked looking around.
"He's gone to see Bard," Nori said.
"I'm going," he said turning around.
Dwalin caught his arm. "No."
"Aye," Bofur said. "Fili's put himself in charge. That means you're in charge here."
Kili yanked his arm free of Dwalin. "I don't give a shit about who is in charge! I'm going!"
"This is ridiculous! We're not letting anyone else leave this mountain!" Dwalin yelled. "Bilba is somewhere safe. Fili and Balin are going to make plans. We need to sit here and stay armed and wait for Dain. Now let's all keep our fucking heads, alright!"
Kili grimaced but stayed put.
Dwalin on the other hand had so much energy he could start running laps. This was battlefield Dwalin. This was a professional warrior ready to go into the fight.
Dori came back, half jogging up the hall after hearing Dwalin shout. "Someone's got to sit with Thorin," he said "He's gone mad."
"He's been mad," Dwalin snapped. "What's he done now? Stupid fool."
"Besides have a mental breakdown?" Dori said. "Well he's torn up his hands and as soon as we got him into his rooms he went berserk. He broke a table and pair of chairs, then he cut off his braids! We got him to calm down, sort of," he said and then hung his head sadly. "That cloak Bilba had been wearing was lying on the bed. He picked it up and he's and now he's just catatonic."
"Send Oin up then," he said with a frustrated growl. "We've got other things that need doing that don't involve babysitting. I need Gloin here. Who here hasn't been to war?" he asked. It was just Ori, Nori, and Kili. "Right. Well, I need Nori here." He turned to Ori and Kili. "You two can take turns watching Thorin. I need military minds right now."
At first Thorin grunted and demanded that he be left alone. So they did the smart thing and took every blade they saw and hid them in another room. Oin looked Thorin over, wrapped up his knuckles, and left complaining that Thorin was being, "a stupid, bloody git with a death wish," and something along the lines of, "I'm going shove my staff so far up his ass he's going to choke on it."
Kili offered to sit with Thorin first. He wasn't sure how long he sat there.
"Uncle?" he looked over and watched him, not that Thorin was doing anything. He'd been quiet and still for possibly hours now. Time was standing still. "Say something." Anything. He would have taken anything. Any word. Even if it was another demand to get out.
He sunk down in his chair when he got nothing.
He wasn't sure if there were a thousand thoughts running through Thorin's mind or none at all. His brother would have known. He knew everything. He thought Bilba might have known too, and the thought made him sigh again. It hadn't been a whole day yet and he missed her.
He regretted that he didn't go with her. Several of them did.
Bofur was damn near crazy over it.
If Fili were there he would know there were precisely two thoughts running through Thorin's mind. Thorin was wearing the same face Dis had worn for a month after her husband died.
How do I turn back the clock and change this?
And how do I go on now?
"I'm sorry," Kili said quietly. He needed to fill the dead air. "I don't know why. You hurt Bilba, and I don't forgive you for that. I'm just sorry it happened. I'm sorry we ever came here."
Oin popped in his head to see if anything had changed, but Kili just shook his head and he left without a word.
When Thorin finally said something it was so soft it hurt Kili's heart.
He'd been trying his best to replay the last day, trying to piece together what he did. How it all happened. He was trying to separate dreams from reality and failing miserably.
"How could I?" He pressed his hands into his eyes. He wanted to roll over and die. Join her and beg her forgiveness in another life.
Why had they even allowed him to live?
"I killed her," it came out like a ghost of a whisper. "She's really dead."
Kili watched him closely. When his hands came down he was crying. He couldn't remember a time in his life when he ever saw his uncle cry. He remembers vaguely being told once that if he ever saw him cry the world was probably ending, and he should probably leave him be.
The world was ending though, but it was one man's world.
He'd played it over a thousand times and there was separation of fact and fiction. He'd... he had killed her. His beloved One.
He didn't feel empty. He felt too full, like his chest would burst with the grief.
He stood up abruptly. There was no changing it. No going back. No forgiveness he could ask and no thread of hope left.
For a moment Kili was glad they'd moved every sharp object out of the room. But Thorin was not rising up to hurt himself. "Unc- Thorin?"
He shook his head and walked out onto the balcony. Kili followed him and looked out over the troops and tents.
"She isn't..." Kili said.
"I need my sword and my armor," he said. If he could do one last thing for his name and his line, for there was nothing he could do for her, it was this. He may have lost all of his honor, but he would march to war like an honorable soul should and fight until he could no longer stand. A better king would come out of this fight, and it would not be him.
"She isn't dead," Kili said.
"The orcs are on the horizon. You can see their banners from here."
"Bilba isn't dead," Kili repeated, louder this time.
"They won't be able to see them from down there just yet."
He grabbed Thorin's arm. "Listen to me!" He pulled his uncle away from the balcony and back into the room. "Stop! Stop looking out there. She isn't dead. You didn't kill her."
"Kili-"
"She isn't dead. If you had killed her do you think you'd be sitting here now? Do you?" He forced him to sit down while he paced around the room. "Who do you really think would allow you to be here if you'd killed her? No one. The only reason you're not locked in some cell is because... because I don't know. You're the king!" He threw up his arms. "And she made Dwalin promise not to hurt you, which by extension I guess means all of us. I mean Balin knocked the hell out of you, but you deserved it. You deserve a lot more for the hell you've caused us the last week! I mean, do you even remember all the crap you did?"
And he ranted on for quite a while. He needed to unleash. He couldn't just keep holding it back. Thorin watched Kili shout his rapid fire list of things that had happened, and while his memories didn't return he listened intently to it, trying to take it in.
"And Bilba, Mahal! I don't know how she did it. I don't know how she put up with you, and kept smiling like she did. 'Everything is fine,' she kept saying. We knew it was a lie but we let ourselves believe it. She trusted you, even though you were completely crazy. She trusted you and did everything she could for us. Why did you have to hurt her!" he yelled and spun on him. "Why'd you have to do it!"
He was shaking and out of breath when he let his shoulders drop. Thorin was struggling to process.
"You must believe me when I say I have no idea what I did. I can't remember what I did to her. All I remember is killing her."
"You-" he cut himself off and looked away. "You tried to. If Dwalin had been any slower who knows what could have happened. You choked her for all of us to see. And you banished her while she was hurt and begging. You sent her out there to a war," Kili said. "All I know is that Gandalf was supposed to take her away from here. Knowing her," he laughed bitterly. "Knowing her she's still down there planning to fight. She's going to get herself killed for real."
Fili's voice across the field was like a bell in her ears. Her head picked up and she found him immediately across the crowd. She jumped down from her box and mumbled, "Excuse me, I need to go... I'll be back. If the raven comes just..." but she was off before she could finish her thought.
His armor fit well, she thought. Fili looked every inch a warrior. He looked ready to march out and meet Azog and slay him for the lost lives of people he had never known. People he was raised to respect and love by only their name.
Bilba's hands shook, her lips trembled, and she covered her mouth in a sad attempt to hide her frown.
"No," she choked out between her fingers.
He was covered in iron and mail and leather. It sent a shiver down her spine and made her knees weak. If she lost him...
Oh.
Here she thought she was done crying. He held up a hand to Balin and walked away, damn his duty for this moment. He grabbed her and held her, and she tried not to cry into his shoulder, but failed.
They stood that way for a long moment. "Namad," he said quietly. "You have to go. Please leave. Please. I can't keep begging."
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm staying. I made up my mind, Fili."
He squeezed his eyes tight. "I know," he said. "I just figured I'd try one more time." He rested his forehead to her's. "Why do you stay?"
"For the same reasons you do." She pushed a braid back over his shoulder with a frown. "Fili, you listen to me, because if I don't get to say this and I miss my chance, I'll regret forever. I love you. I love you, and I love Kili. I love everyone we traveled with. And I still love Thorin. Now tell me something. How do I say 'brother?'"
"Nadad."
"Listen to me, nadad. One day you are going to be a wonderful king. But right now you're just going to have to survive. For me, and our brother, and our friends. And Thorin, even though we're both mad at him. He still needs us, whether he can see it or not."
"He..." and he looked away. He wasn't sure what had happened to Thorin that morning. "He was looking for you. He didn't know where you were. He completely lost it this morning. He just broke."
"What do you-"
She was cut off by a large dwarf being tailed by an exasperated Gandalf. "Fili!" he yelled. "Is that you, lad? You can't miss that blond hair in a crowd," he laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "They're telling me you're regent! Get in here and explain this while I look at these plans... Who's this?" he asked as he noticed Bilba stepping back from his cousin.
He was built like Gloin, broad and sturdy, but looked stronger than Dori. He was almost as terrifying as the first time she'd seen Dwalin, stooped on her front step. But was was also grinning wide, like the idea of a battle made him a giddy child.
He stepped around his cousin and took her hand. "Dain Ironfoot," he said as he bowed and kissed her knuckles. "Lord of the Iron Hills."
"B-Bilba Baggins," she said and gave a small curtsy.
"Aha! You are the one Balin wrote about then. At your service," he said and bowed again. "You're the reason we stand a chance in this fight. Circumstances are complicated, he said best not to mention them so I won't ask how you managed it, but you'd best be heading back into the mountain," he said. "Get somewhere safe."
"Oh, I-"
But he was already dragging Fili away and she was left not sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. She settled on a laugh that probably made her look absolutely mad.
As she made it back to her place with the elves a large black bird was waiting for her. "You are Miss Baggins?"
"Yes, yes. I'm sorry. I was," she looked over her shoulder.
"Quite fine," Sarok said. "I've only just arrived. I have two message, the first for Gandalf the Gray. If this is to be war the ravens will not sit ideally by. Our envoys have returned with many of my folk. We will fight at the dwarrows side. After all, this is our land as well." She did not wait for a response from Bilba. "The next message is for you, and comes from my brother," she said and her stiff demeanor softened. "He said to thank you. You have given him much courage. My younger brother has never once flown beyond our lands. Most call him a coward. At Gandalf's request, and for your sake, he was flown to the Eyrie in the Misty Mountains to call for aid from the Great Eagle." She spread her wings and made a small bow. "I thank you as well. I have heard good things of you from my brother and father. You are a friend of the ravens, Miss Baggins. We are at your service."
"Thank you. I am at your service as well," she said, returned the bow.
Sarok squawked and said her goodbyes. "I must return now to my father. May you fare well on the battlefield."
"You too. Be safe."
Dwalin was on his way to the armory when he saw Kili ducking inside with Ori and gathering up Thorin's armor. He huffed and stormed by, going up stairs barging into his room.
"Thorin!" he barked and he looked over at him, half dressed and waiting for Kili. "What do you think you're doing?"
"I'm getting ready," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Right? And you're fit to leave this room why? Because you said so?" Dwalin said pacing across the room.
Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are you my nurse now, Dwalin?"
"No, but last I saw you you were a sobbing like a baby and unable to walk."
"And now I'm not," Thorin said. "I've got it under control."
"Right," he said completely unconvinced.
"In more ways than emotionally."
Dwalin just crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, waiting.
"I made mistakes," he said.
"A bit more than mistakes," Dwalin interrupted.
"Yes, a good deal more than just mistakes. I've done unforgivable things to this company and to Bilba."
Dwalin looked him over closely.
"You seem less nuts," he said. "Doesn't mean you are though."
"It's over, Dwalin. It's done. I am in control of myself, and I will not fall again."
Kili lingered by the door, quietly listening.
"Prove it."
"How am I supposed to do that?" he said throwing out an arm. "Should I be grovelling for forgiveness? Bring Bilba here and I will grovel until my throat is sore and I can no longer-"
"I wouldn't dare bring here back here," he snapped. "Now, shut up. You sound like a ninny."
Thorin huffed. "Then how, Dwalin?"
"I don't really know," he said shaking his head. "What if I told you all the gold was gone."
"It's not. I wouldn't care."
"Hm." Dwalin started pacing again. "And if I said Bard currently has the Arkenstone in his possession. Which he does."
"Damn the Arkenstone, Dwalin! If I must throw it in the nearest volcano then I will. I will not let it control me again! My mind is my own!" he shouted, red in the face.
Dwalin considered him for a long moment before he nodded. "Kili!" he barked. "Stop skulking in the hall. Bring me that armor." The young dwarf stumbled, Ori right behind him, and they laid it down across a table. "Good, now go and get your own. Tell the boys it's time to be ready. We'll meet Fili in camp."
They left as Thorin started picking up a bit of chain mail. "Why is Fili in camp?"
"Somebody had to be king in your absence."
His armor was lighter than Dwalin would have liked him to wear. Thorin said he needed to be able to move. He would have to be dead in the thick of the fight to find Azog, and heavy plates would slow him down. Dwalin couldn't disagree.
"I've followed you since I could walk, nadad. You are my king and I will follow you bleeding to the grave if it must be so. I was there to see you crowned King of Durin's Folk, I'll be damned if I'm not there to see you crowned King Under the Mountain," Dwalin said.
"What right have I to be king?"
"Besides your blood? You're a damned good leader when you're not completely insane," he said picking up the crown. "And even when you are. It took an insane man to cut off Azog's arm. You called in Ered Luin, and we followed because of your leadership. And if you are indeed back in your right mind then we'll follow you still. That doesn't mean you don't have apologies to make after the fight, but I think we can put it behind us until Azog is dead and his head's on a pike."
He put the crown into Thorin's hands and watched him fit it around his head.
He'd waited his whole life to see Thorin in that crown, and while he was not yet crowned King of Erebor, he still felt rush of pride.
"So," Dain started. "What exactly are you doing here, lad?" He was between Balin and Gandalf and leaning over a large map.
"I'm doing what I can."
"And where's Thorin? I'd like to know a bit about this regent business, if it's all the same."
Fili was stiff. "My uncle is unwell."
Dain looked at him out of the corner of his eye, still busy looking at how the land was situated. "Lad, you're going to need to catch me up on some things," he said finally leaning back. "First there is an alliance out of the blue with the two armies that were against us not two days ago, and now you're in charge. I trust you and Balin, I'm just saying it's a little fishy."
"I think it's a conversation best said in private," Fili said in a hushed voice.
Gandalf spoke up. "We all here know what has happened with Thorin. Just explain it, and be done. We don't have time to mess around."
Fili sighed. "It's the gold sickness. Last I saw my uncle he was in the middle of a mental breakdown. So, I'm heir and I'm here."
Dain nodded solemnly. "Right. We'll see about my cousin later. How many forces do we have, and what are the most recent numbers that we're up against?"
Thranduil had roughly one thousand elves. Bard called and two hundred and fifty-seven men from Laketown were able. Dain had a little over five hundred dwarves.
"And we are fourteen, including my uncle and Bilba," Fili said.
"The woman? Absolutely not," he protested. "She'll be leaving-"
"She's staying," Fili said. "She wants to be here, and it isn't our place to make her leave."
Dain made a noise in the back of his throat. This was completely unacceptable. "Fili, she's a woman."
"At least half of the elven warriors are woman," Gandalf said.
Dain remained focused on his cousin. "You know she isn't supposed to go into battle. I'm not even sure why you allowed her on this trek to begin with. Hell, I'm not even sure what she is. She looks like a dwarfling who hasn't gotten her beard yet." He turned to Balin hoping he'd have some sense. "She's too small to stand with us. She'll be trampled before she can even fight."
"She's a hobbit," Fili said.
"Never heard of one. That doesn't change the fact that war is no place for her. Why is she even out here?"
"It's a long story that we haven't got time for," Gandalf said. "And as for her skill, she is a good enough fighter to stand with your army, despite her size or gender. Surely you've heard of female warriors."
Dain crossed his arms and huffed. She didn't look like any kind of fighter he'd ever seen. "Fine, fine," he held up his hands. "If a shieldmaiden she is, I'll let her do what she does. But it doesn't feel right." He turned back to the maps. "How many orcs?"
Balin sighed. "Over five thousand, not counting their wargs. The ravens say there are around five hundred of them though. They couldn't get an exact count."
"We don't have enough men. This'll be a slaughter," Bard said.
"You don't know dwarves then, Master Bard," Dain said, puffing out his chest.
Thranduil nodded. "I have archers along the river and concealed in the trees. The orcs will be driven away from Mirkwood and around the far side of the long lake."
"The rest of the men are stationed here, and here," Gandalf said pointing to the map.
"Right," Dain said, dragging his finger along the map. "I will divide my men. Most will join you here on the field, but the rest," he said tapping at a ridge, "Will be here. We'll attack from both sides."
"I'll have archers posted there as well," Thranduil said.
"Aye," Dain said with a nod. "Aye, this should work. I've seen worse odds." Bard nodded along nervously, and Fili crossed his arms listening. It all sounded good on paper. "Your archers are famed for their skill, there's no denying," he said to the elf king. "These plans look solid. I'll go inform my men. Fili, come on."
Balin gave him a nod and Fili followed behind. Dain laughed and let the boy fall into step at his side. "Don't be following, lad. You're in charge here, not me."
"I've never been in a battle," Fili said. "I'm not sure what to expect, honestly." He did his best to set his jaw and look the part of a king. Someone who was ready to bleed and ready to fight and had no fear.
Dain nodded, his jovial attitude falling away. "A lot of blood, a lot of death. It'll be rough. We're outnumbered, but not so much that it looks impossible." Dain put a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay to be nervous. Hell, it's good. It's good to be nervous. You don't go in with unreal exceptions. You ain't invincible. But," he said with a sigh, "You're right to hold your chin up and hide it. Right now these men are looking to you as the King of Durin's Folk. Your bravery is their bravery."
Fili nodded.
"Alright, lad. You ready to go get the troop rallied?"
"Yes," he said and Dain laughed.
"Brave as they come."
"You've been to war," Fili said. "How old were you the first time?"
"Oh, I was much younger than you. My thirties. But you never get used to it. You walk into a fight with family and people you think of as brothers, but you've got no guarantees they'll be walking back out with you. Or maybe they will walk out, but it's without you. Your little brother is out there, isn't he."
"Yeah. Kili..."
"You listen to me then. You find him, and you stick with him. Let me tell you something about your uncle, he never forgave himself after Azanulbizar. He and Frerin got separated and Frerin died. So you find your brother, you hear me?"
"But, I should-"
"No," he stopped him. He stopped him mid-stride in the middle of the field. "I don't care if you're playing the part of the king, you're still a brother. What do brothers do, lad?"
Fili stood up straight as he could. "Protect their siblings."
"Good lad," he said and started walking again. "Now, let's see how well my dearest, darling cousin Dis taught you to speak to a crowd."
Dain spoke first and his men cheered him. He introduced Fili as the man they would follow to war. The Crowned Prince and Heir of Durin's Folk. Their future king.
Fili had spoken in front of greater numbers of dwarves before on several occasions. He knew how to stand and project and how to keep his hands still. He knew how to wear a smile even though he wanted to do anything else.
"I know you've marched long and hard for many days without much rest, and I fear you will have little now. There are orcs on the horizon. This battle may well begin before the hour is done. I ask you to spend what time you have readying yourselves. We fight for our people today. Azog the Defiler, and the orcs of Moria are our enemy!"
There came loud cries from the dwarves to curse Azog and his kind to the most heinous of deaths.
"They slaughtered our kin! And they killed our king, my great-grandfather, Thror, King Under the Mountain. This mountain!" he yelled. "This is our second chance to avenge those we have lost and those we still mourn! We fight for Durin's folk! To protect our sacred home!"
The roar of battle cries was deafening. The orcs were close enough now that they could hear them and picked up their pace.
Just as Legolas to beginning to blow his horn to say they were sight the orcs sounded theirs and everyone was snapping to attention, running to their places.
It was time for war.