Bilbo didn't ask where his companions had procured the vehicles. It seemed better not to know, somehow, and they crowded into the cars quietly. A strange, almost frighteningly peaceful quiet had fallen over the group as they prepared to go back to their mountain once more, and there was very little conversation. Tyndrum was only an hour away, and Bilbo craned his neck to look out the window as they approached, taking in the now-familiar shape of Beinn Chùirn rising gently up into the sky. Thorin's face was hard to watch as he looked at his home, all longing and rage and terrible grief, and Bilbo looked away.
It was just past eleven when they reached Tyndrum, a tiny, quiet village that Bilbo could tell was more of a transport junction than an attractive living option for the local inhabitants. The roads led away to the north and the west, drawing the eye past the little settlement. Still, it was a respectable place, and the people they passed seemed honestly curious about the sudden influx of visitors. Thorin led the company to the low, white building that served as the village hall, and shrugged when Bilbo glanced at him in surprise.
"People here are fairly traditional," he said quietly, a fond sort of nostalgia settling over him. "It's best to do things the right way." The Sons of Durin abandoned their cars and moved themselves and all their gear into the hall, which Bilbo was surprised to find was not even locked.
There were several large rooms inside, and Thorin directed the family to see what they could do about security, making certain the other entrances were covered and eyes were at every window. Fíli, who had been working on unencrypting the remaining files for the whole journey, sat down on the floor and continued to work with his golden hair hanging in his face.
"Almost done," he muttered as Bilbo crouched near him. "I'll have to see if I can set up a wireless hotspot here to get the data to Bombur."
"You're doing fine, lad," Bilbo said gently. He didn't like the intensity of Fíli's gaze, or the way his fingers twitched toward his mobile every few seconds, as if desperate to call Kíli and check on him. They were both too young for the weights they had been forced to bear. He patted Fíli's shoulder in support, and went to find Thorin.
Thorin was staring up at the rise of the mountain, half lost in thought, and Bilbo came up beside him quietly. It took Thorin a moment to realise he had company, but he gave Bilbo a surprisingly sweet smile when he did.
"I have not been here in many years," Thorin said, brow wrinkling, "and now I'm back for the second time in a fortnight. Things really are changing."
"That's good, isn't it?" Bilbo asked. "After all the terrible things you've been through?"
"I hope so." Thorin's voice was very quiet, and he shook his head a bit. "If it goes wrong now, though, we're through. There's no more running and hiding. We either succeed, or we are finished."
"I think we're all hoping for the former."
Thorin quirked an eyebrow at Bilbo, half amused. "As am I. I don't relish the idea of a life behind bars."
"Oh please," Bilbo said lightly, hoping to defuse the mood. "Fíli and Kíli will cause enough trouble that they'll ask us all to leave in under a week, mark my words."
But Thorin seemed to darken a little more at that, looking back to the mountain. "Bilbo, what if I've led us wrong? To see them end up bearing the punishment for my crimes-"
Bilbo cut him off with a gentle hand on Thorin's arm, shaking him a little to grasp his attention. "You can't dwell on it. What you've done until now is done. All we have to decide now is what to do with the time that is given to us."
"Someday, you will have to tell me how a quiet grocer grew to be so wise," Thorin said fondly.
It was, Bilbo reflected later, a rather remarkably nice moment which might have grown into something still nicer had they not been suddenly and unexpectedly attacked.
A pair of long, skinny-fingered hands were suddenly pressed against the glass of the window, and a pale face with protuberant eyes was only inches away from his own. Bilbo yelped in a decidedly unheroic manner and darted back, heart pounding in his throat. Thorin was moving almost at once, thundering toward the door. He was back in seconds, hauling the pathetic little figure back with him by the scruff of his shirt, and flung him to the floor with a low growl.
"Gollum!" Bilbo choked, shocked beyond comprehensible speech. The skinny fellow cowered on the floor, throwing his hands up to protect his head, and Bilbo shook his head quickly at Thorin when he seemed ready to attack the pitiful creature.
"Why were you spying on us?" Thorin roared. The commotion had attracted attention, and the rest of the family came pouring into the room, staring wide-eyed at the confrontation.
"Not spying!" Gollum whimpered, pressing himself back against the wall. "Never spying! Looking for you! For help!"
"You want our help?" Bilbo asked flatly. It wasn't a plausible excuse. Gollum nodded quickly, and Bilbo took another look at him. He'd thought the man had been a mess before, but now he looked about two steps from the grave. His skinny frame was nearly emaciated now, skin bruised and hanging from his bones, and he shook even as he lay on the floor. Whatever had happened to him, it was not pretty.
He nodded desperately, wide eyes fixed on Bilbo. Thorin snorted dismissively, and Bilbo shot him a quick glance to tell him to be quiet.
"Why do you need help?" Bilbo asked. He got down on one knee, making himself less threatening, and moved closer to Gollum. The man opened his eyes wide, pleading.
"Azog wants us dead! He says we let the precious information escape, and so we must pay!"
"I assumed they'd appreciate your information about who took it?" Bilbo asked. Gollum moaned quietly.
"Went back to Smaug, we did, and told him everything! He sent us to Azog, but he would not give us anything. No food, no money, no drugs! We spied and crept - brought him information on you. Found you in Glen Etive and went back to tell Smaug, didn't we?" He sobbed miserably, spindly fingers coming up to cover his eyes. "Starving, we were, and he would not help."
"And so you've come to us?" Bilbo asked skeptically. "Why would you think we would help you?"
"Because Baggins is a good man!" Gollum said, flipping quickly into a pleading position, sitting on his knees with his hands clasped in front of him. "He will not let us die!"
"What do you know about what kind of a man I am?" Bilbo asked, annoyed by the clear attempt at cheap flattery. Gollum shrank back.
"Smaug said it! He has taken your fingerprints and learned who you are! He told Azog about you - and about your mother." His voice had shifted subtly now from pleading to a tricky, cunning whine. "We heard him, and we thought if we came to warn Baggins, he would help us! He would see that we are not evil!"
Bilbo rubbed both hands over his face, feeling old and tired. It seemed that every time he thought he had things under control, something came along to destroy his calm. Now there was a clearly mentally ill drug addict begging for his assistance, and apparently Smaug knew exactly who he was and what he had done. He knew he should have tried to wipe his prints before leaving!
"Smaug is looking for him, then?" Thorin growled, moving forward until he stood directly at Bilbo's side, his warm presence a comfort.
"Oh, yes!" Gollum insisted. "Very eager to find the thief, is Smaug!"
Bilbo shook his head and stood slowly. "Look, we'll feed you something, all right? But you can't stay here. We can't protect you - we've got enough to do trying to look after our own."
"But he will kill us!" Gollum whined, voice rising in terror. "He will make us an example, he says!"
"It is not our responsibility to shield you from your poor choices," Thorin grumbled. Bilbo turned to him quickly.
"Why don't we send him to Thranduil? If there's anyone who might be able to keep him safe, and maybe get some information from him, I think it's the DI."
Thorin frowned. "Send him to the man who has been hunting us everywhere?"
"It'll give him a good enough reason to protect Gollum," Bilbo pointed out. "And once the information is made public, the police will hopefully be on our side. Thranduil should know as much as possible if he's going to be an ally."
"We have no reason to think the man will lift a finger to help us," Thorin protested.
"He's not a bad person! And he's not on Smaug's payroll. I believe he's trying to do what he believes is right. Once the truth comes out, I think he's more likely to help us than to hunt us down." Bilbo stood firm as Thorin eyed him warily, keeping his chin high enough to maintain strong eye contact. Thorin's resentment for the man who had imprisoned them was understandable, but he simply had to see reason - or there was no point in hoping for the success of their gambit. Finally Thorin nodded shortly and turned away.
"Do what you want with him. Thranduil can throw him in that hellhole for his own safety, and see if we care."
Bilbo quickly called Dori and Ori over, and asked them to see to Gollum. They agreed to feed the man, and then see him to the train that could take him to Edinburgh.
"We'll ring ahead and tell Thranduil he's coming, and the police can wait for him at the station. No sense giving him a chance to run," Nori put in, leaning casually against a door frame. Bilbo allowed himself a small smile, reckoning that Nori would be the best expert on that topic.
Thorin stalked out of the room, and Bilbo followed once Gollum was safely in the care of the three brothers. He found Thorin helping a tired, stiff Fíli to his feet; Fíli shot Bilbo an exhausted smile.
"It's done! I've unencrypted all of it, and organised it as best I could. Bombur should be able to move quickly with this lot." He lifted the laptop in one hand, moving his mobile a little closer with the other, and squinted at the screen. "It's almost done sending. What I wouldn't give for decent internet access here!"
"Beggars can't be choosers, lad," Bofur said cheerfully. He tossed his own mobile in the air and caught it snappily. "I've just been speaking to my brother, and he's ready. He'll present all he can of our history, and we'll give my records to the authorities once the dust settles a bit."
"Everyone thinks they know who you are - the Sons of Durin," Bilbo said quietly, and they all looked at him in curiosity. "I thought I did, before I met you. They're going to find out that they've been wrong about so much."
"Not about everything," Bofur objected, his fingers clutching the edge of his book tightly. "We're not innocent."
"I know that! And so will everyone else." He smiled at them, affection creeping in around the edges of his words. "But if I could come to tolerate you lot after you broke into my house and kidnapped me the first night we met, I have a feeling the general public might have a bit more sympathy for your story than you might think."
Thorin glowered at Gollum for a few minutes, and then paced around the empty hall until Fíli announced that his transfer of information was complete. The data was out of their hands, out on its way to do the job they desperately hoped it would manage to do. Then Thorin clapped his nephew on the shoulder, and started for the door.
"Where are you going?" Fíli protested.
"We need to go talk to the people. We need Tyndrum with us." He glanced back, and his expression softened as he saw Fíli's exhaustion. "You need to rest while you can."
"I'm fine!" Fíli shook his head wildly, but his eyes were red and tired. "Can't sleep while Kíli's out there alone, anyway."
Thorin sighed and swung back around to his nephew, dropping heavy hands on his tired shoulders. "Fíli. You have done so very well - but now I need you to do this for me, as well. I need you rested and ready for our next fight." Fíli held his eyes for a stubborn moment, then dipped his head in agreement. Thorin knocked his forehead against Fíli's gently, then pushed him carefully toward a quiet corner. He looked around the room, then, and made a quick choice.
"Balin, I want you with me. You knew these people better than anyone else." Balin trotted over unhesitatingly, and Thorin cocked his head at Bilbo. "If you'd like to join us, you'd be more than welcome."
"I'll come," Bilbo decided, more than happy to leave Gollum behind.
Tyndrum was a quiet village, but the inhabitants had clearly been stirred by their arrival. Curious faces watched them from behind curtains and inside cars as they made their way to one particular house. To Bilbo's surprise, Thorin hesitated at the door, his hand stilled in front of the knocker. After a long moment, Balin muttered something and elbowed Thorin aside, giving a few loud thumps.
The door opened quickly, and a young man with a fierce scowl stood inside, eyeing them suspiciously. "What do you want?"
"I'm looking for Girion," Thorin said, an unusual subdued tone to his voice.
"You're a few decades late," the man said. "My grandfather died almost twenty years ago."
Thorin looked stricken, but Balin's eyes widened. "You're never little Bard? But you were hardly walking when last we saw you!"
"I am Bard," he allowed. His fierce eyes scanned over them. "My grandfather once told me that one day, strangers would come looking for him in the name of that mountain." He nodded toward Beinn Chùirn. "He said I should offer them help, for the sake of his memory. Are you the men he was talking about?"
"I think we are," Thorin answered. "I'm Thorin Oakenshield - and that mountain is mine. I've come to take it back." He gestured to either side of him. "My companions, Balin and Bilbo."
"Your grandfather and I were great friends," Balin said gently. "You may not remember me, lad, but I never could forget one as strong and stubborn as you."
Bard looked torn between slamming the door in their faces and letting them in. Finally, he sighed, and opened it wide enough to allow entrance. "I'm not promising anything. But for my grandfather's sake, I'll listen to what you have to say - and then we will see."
It took an hour to explain their tale, and another of argument before Bard would even begin to see their side. Smaug's poisonous words had done their work in Bard's ears. He believed everything he had heard about the Sons of Durin, and it was an enormous struggle to convince him of their good intentions. Finally, Thorin slammed a hand down on his knee in frustration.
"We're not asking for much! Just help us prevent them from starting work on the mines!"
"Those mines are going to change our lives!" Bard snapped, face reddening in fury. "They will bring jobs and wealth and economic stimulation to this village! We've been holding on to nothing for decades! We need these mines."
"And you'll get all of that," Balin soothed. "We intend to work the mines ourselves - and we'll do it properly, too. We know what it means to respect this mountain and this village. We grew up here, after all. Can you tell me you believe Smaug will have any respect for Tyndrum? Or will it be crushed beneath his feet in his quest for wealth?"
"Look what he has done to us," Thorin said intently, leaning forward. "What he has made of us! Don't let him do the same to you."
Bard stared at them, unmoving. A muscle in the side of his face twitched. "Tell me, Thorin of Beinn Chùirn. Who were you to my grandfather, that he asked me to help you? Who are you, that I should trust your word?"
Thorin shifted uncomfortably. "Girion was something of a hero to me. He was strong and wise and kind. When my father died, I was still very young, and Girion offered his support and advice." He drew out a letter, crumpled and worn with age, and passed it over. "It was Girion who advised us to apply for mining rights when I found there was gold under our mountain. This was his advice to me."
Bard took the letter carefully and read it intently, scowling at every word. When he looked up, he did not look at Thorin, but passed the letter back stiffly. "My grandfather was a trusting man," he said quietly. "He may have given too much of his trust to you - but I will honour it."
"The people here will listen to you," Balin urged. "Get them to help us, and when we are back on our mountain, the friendship between us will make us both strong."
"I will do what I can," Bard promised. He showed them out, looking at his watch as he did so. "You say Smaug intends to start tomorrow?"
"Yes - at Cononish, bright and early."
"We will be there," Bard snapped, and slammed the door in their faces. Bilbo let out a low whistle.
"Now there's a man with even fewer social skills than you," he told Thorin wryly, and was delighted when a crooked smile twisted Thorin's face into happier lines.
Assured of at least some assistance, they made their way back to the village hall. Fíli was sleeping in the corner when they entered, and Bifur gave them a furious glare, motioning for them to keep quiet as he draped another coat over the lad's sleeping form. They nodded and made their way to the connecting room, where most of the family were gathered.
"They've taken that slimy fellow off to the station," Gloin volunteered. "I've put in a call to let Thranduil know he's coming."
"You all look like you're waiting for something," Bilbo observed, taking in the way that they were sitting around the room, eyes going to the doors and windows.
"We are," Dwalin growled. He held up a mobile, which looked ridiculously small and fragile in his hand. "Gandalf is coming. He should be here soon."
"That's fantastic news!" Bilbo said, his heart lightened. Somehow, it seemed that nothing was quite as bad when Gandalf was around - although whether that spoke to the man's competence or simple chance, he couldn't say.
"But he's late!" Oin complained loudly from the back. "He's always late!"
"Gandalf arrives precisely when he means to," Dwalin told him in no uncertain terms. "He will be here when he is here."
"And until then, we wait," Balin agreed placidly.
"Here, Bilbo!" Bofur called cheerfully. "Amuse us! Tell us what that fishy fellow meant when he said Smaug had been telling tales about your mother!"
Bilbo went red to the tips of his ears, and toed at the ground. "Ah, that's - not interesting or amusing. Just old family business."
"No, we want to know!" Ori called, as the three brothers slumped in. "Everyone's had a go at guessing, but Gollum wouldn't say anything more."
"You already know all our secrets, lad," Balin agreed. "Tell us a bit about you! For all the time we've spent together, we know precious little besides your name and your good character."
Bilbo sighed in exasperation and slid into a chair with a dull thud. "Fine. It's not really that interesting, though." He breathed out fretfully, trying to decide how to tell the tale. "My father was probably exactly the man you expect he was, from knowing me. A good man, solid and rather dull. He kept Bag End all his life, and he was the best there was at it." He smiled wistfully as memories came rushing back of his father, bagging groceries with such care, or toiling over the accounts until late at night. "He was utterly respectable."
"Sounds like a recipe for a dull life," Nori said, smiling a bit condescendingly.
Bilbo put up a finger. "Ah! That's it, you see! Because my mother made sure it never was."
"Full of gossip, was she?" Dori suggested. "Our mum never went a day in her life without collecting tales to share about everyone she knew."
"Let him speak!" Thorin said fiercely, and he sat down close to Bilbo, urging him to go on.
"No, she was a bit more than that," Bilbo said, now finding some amusement in dragging the story out and making them wait for answers. "My mother was the best thief this side of Hadrian's Wall."
There were startled mutters and a roar of laughter at that, as the company digested the information. Bilbo grinned smugly, pleased to have surprised them. "You think you're dangerous," he said with a chuckle. "My mother would have stolen everything you owned before you made it through the door, and returned everything she didn't want before you ever knew it was missing. Never mess with a Took, she'd say!"
"And it was good advice, too," Gandalf said, appearing silently in the door. He smiled down at all of them. "That is, of course, how I knew Mr. Baggins before our adventure. I'd been after his mother for years for various burglaries we couldn't pin on her, and I got in the habit of stopping by for a chat every once in a while. It was quite a friendly relationship, considering I was meant to be bringing her to justice - but we never found a scrap of evidence to tie her to any of the thefts."
"And you never would, even if you searched to the end of the world!" Bilbo said brightly.
"So is that where you learned it?" Gloin said, smiling behind his great beard. "At your mother's knee?"
"Oh, no!" Bilbo said, horrified. "She always insisted I keep to the straight and narrow. Wanted me to take up in my father's footsteps, or possibly to go into law. But she always had the best stories of the things she had done, and the excitement and romance of it kept me awake at night."
"I suppose you never thought you'd be doing the same, yourself," Thorin mused, fingers creeping up to grasp the Arkenstone where it lay hidden against his chest.
"Not once I grew up a bit," Bilbo admitted. "When I took over the shop from my father, she had retired long since, and was living a very quiet life. She missed him terribly, though. I think he was sort of her anchor, as plain and solid as his life was. I thought I'd be like him forever."
"I think perhaps you've shown it's possible to be both at once," Thorin said warmly, and heads nodded all around the room.
"So that's my big secret," Bilbo said firmly. "Gandalf, what about you? Where have you been?"
"I have been looking for backup. I went to see Saruman, who I report to directly, to see if the other members of our organization could be informed. We could have done a great deal to help with the spread of the truth - but he would not allow it." Gandalf looked grim. "I suspect that he may be in Smaug's pocket - or possibly, though I don't have the evidence to prove anything yet, that he and Smaug are both nothing more than agents of a greater master."
Bilbo shuddered at that idea. Smaug alone was enough to have them all in danger and horror, on the run, and facing a nightmare of choices that he'd never been expecting to make. Thinking of a greater enemy beyond him was enough to make him want to crawl back in his hole and hide.
From the other room, there was a sudden scrambling sound, and Fíli's muffled voice speaking in sharp sentence fragments. In a moment, he came rushing in, hair wild from sleep, and gestured for them all to be quiet.
"We're here, Kíli," he called down in the direction of his mobile, which he held out to the room at large. "You're on speaker, so you'll have to speak up."
"I needed to tell you what I've found." Kíli's voice came crackling out of the mobile, sounding tiny and distant. "It's not good news. Is Thorin there?"
"I'm here," Thorin replied. His hands were pressed together in tight fists, knuckles white where they met.
"You need to get out of there," Kíli said, rushed and breathless. "Word on the street is that we are dead men. Smaug has gathered up every gang, every mob, every petty lowlife and criminal and drug addict - everyone with a grudge against us, or who is desperate enough to take his money, or who owes him a favour. They're all coming after us, and they're coming now."
"It's an army," Fíli breathed, eyes wide.
"They know where you are. Smaug had Bilbo followed, and they're coming to Tyndrum now! You've got to go!" Kíli was beginning to sound frantic now, and his breathing had picked up. There were rustling sounds on the other end that Bilbo couldn't place.
"We're not leaving, Kíli," Thorin said calmly. "We can't leave now. It's time to make a stand."
"You can't!" Kíli hissed. "They're not going to arrest us this time, or beat us up for information. They're going to kill us, Uncle Thorin!" His voice cracked at the end, and Bilbo's heart started pounding harder. The men around him were looking out the windows, clearly expecting company soon.
"Kíli," Fíli interrupted, frozen now in a semblance of calmness. "Where are you?"
Kíli laughed sharply, and then stopped abruptly. "Still in Edinburgh. I can't get out. They've closed the roads, and they got the bike hours ago."
"Why are you running?" Fíli asked, still so sharply calm and cold that it gave Bilbo the chills.
"Why do you think?" Kíli's answer was rushed, and came through on a breath like a sob. Bilbo's hands clenched into fists. "Fíli, get out of there. Just get out, please!"
Thorin was on his feet now, moving next to Fíli like it could get them closer to the other end of the line. "Kíli! We're not leaving - we can't leave. Hide yourself somewhere. We'll come and find you as soon as we can."
"Too late for that," Kíli said grimly. There were sounds of footsteps now, running fast, and more than one pair. The Sons of Durin were all gathering close now, silent and frightened, and Bilbo squeezed his way through to stand by Fíli and Thorin. "Please, go. I'll delay them as long as I can."
"Kíli, no!" Thorin roared. "Get out! Don't you dare put yourself between them and us!"
"There's nothing else I can do!" Kíli roared back. "Get Fíli out, please! You've got to!"
There was a roar in the background they couldn't make out, but it sounding more like an angry mob than anything. Fíli was stock-still, barely breathing, his hand clenched so tight on the mobile that his fingers were shaking. "Kíli," he whispered.
They all jumped when the crash came from the other end, like Kíli's mobile had been flung against a wall, and then there were shouts and thumps and a horrible muffled scream that had them all covering their ears, even as they stared, unblinking, at the mobile in Fíli's hand. Then a scraping noise came, and a rough voice roared through the speaker.
"If that's Oakenshield, then we've got a message for you!"
"I am Thorin Oakenshield!" Thorin shouted, trembling with rage. "If you lay a hand on that boy, you will regret it!"
There was a nasty laugh. "You're in no position to be making threats! Smaug sends a message."
"What is it?" Thorin ground out, teeth clenched.
"We're coming for you," the evil voice recited. "And everything that didn't burn then will burn today."
And the deafening sound of the phone being smashed against a wall made them all jump back, and then stand, frozen, as the call cut off.
OK, yep, all of you guys win my Favourite People of the Year awards. I've been just astoundingly delighted all day by how much love and support you've shown. It's been a really good day!
So in thanks, I've given you a really horrible cliffhanger. I'm a terrible human being. :(