Twenty Five
"Thorin!" A chorus of worried voices broke the silence, not the least of which were Fili and Kili. Both young dwarves had guilt and fear stamped across their faces. Oin pushed them aside and knelt beside his king, brow furrowed with concern.
Billa was seated on the hillock above them and saw the whole confusing jumble play out by the water. Her heart was in her mouth as she stood, as though in a dream. It tasted like raw fish, her heart, and it was trying to block her throat. Oin's voice reached her as she started to move down the hill, struggling to process that Thorin wasn't moving.
"He's asleep!" The healer's words was full of incredulous relief. "He's not dead. Just asleep."
The Company started breathing again as Billa reached them. Asleep. Not dead. A ball of tension loosened in her chest and she sighed. Fili was beside her when she stopped. Kili on her other side.
"Bifur, Bofur, make a stretcher." Dwalin was growling out instructions. "We'll find a good place to camp and wait for him to wake up." With remarkable efficiency, the dwarves fashioned a sturdy travois and carefully hefted the sleeping dwarf's limp, muscular form onto it.
"Drape a blanket over him," Oin said, soberly. "Keep him warm." Kili unrolled his own and did as instructed, tucking the corners beneath Thorin's body. He studied his uncle's face. The expression was flat, but seemed peaceful enough. He didn't seem to be in pain, which was somewhat reassuring. The Company moved out swiftly, deathly silent, feeling strangely lost and tense without the strength and presence of Thorin.
Dwalin insisted upon drawing the travois himself, and when at last they'd reached a small clearing, they halted and Gloin built a fire. They arranged the sleeping dwarf on a bed of blankets beside it so he'd be able to dry, and then settled in to wait.
Billa sat quietly beside Thorin, looking down into a face she hardly recognized. Without the harsh lines of anxiety and grim determination, he looked practically handsome. Movement to her left heralded Fili's arrival, and the halfling turned to look at him as he sat down.
"We shoulda been there to stop it," he murmured, shaking his head.
"He'll wake up soon enough," Billa said confidently, smiling at the blond dwarf. As Kili sat down, Billa turned a kind smile on him as well. "Everything will be fine. On the bright side, this is probably the best sleep he's gotten in weeks."
"How do you know he'll wake?" Kili voiced the question that was on many in the Company's minds. The young dwarf felt tremendously guilty. This was entirely his fault, and there was no getting around that fact. "What if it's some kind of... eternal enchanted sleep?"
Dwalin had an answer ready. "Then we go on. Those were his own orders, lad, and whether he wakes or not, we'll follow them."
Billa glanced at Dwalin, then at Kili. Her expression firmed into one of confident belief. "He's Thorin. You really think he'd just sleep for the rest of his life?" The halfling chuckled, all assurance and warmth. "He'll probably be up and yelling at us by morning." For now, at least, it was easy to ignore her own fears.
Fili looked comforted, but not entirely convinced as he glanced at his brother. "I guess so."
Kili was less comforted. For all the confidence in Billa's words, there was the distinct cast of doubt in her face. The disturbing fact that hung over all while they sat about whispering, exchanging uncertain glances, was that if Thorin were no longer able to lead them, Fili would inherit his duties.
One other thing gnawed at Kili's mind. The last thing Uncle had said. To Fili. Something about her. "Don't let her..." or words to that effect. What could he have possibly meant? Which "her" did he mean? Ori or Billa? Perhaps he was delirious. He patted Thorin's head, sighing sadly. Come on, Uncle. We can't go on without you.
The sun rose over the forest, blazing bright and hot in a cloudless sky. Beneath the canopy, however, there was almost nothing to show for it, though it seemed unseasonably warm, even in the eternal twilight of Mirkwood. Thorin still wasn't awake, and no amount of shaking or slapping could fix that. Fili had a mournful, determined look about him as he stood up, his eyes on his uncle.
"We'll bring him with us," he decided, nodding slightly. "Take turns. Dwalin, you can take the first hour. The rest of you," he turned and found them looking at him expectantly, "pack up. We're moving out. Bofur, can you climb up and check our heading?"
Bofur looked rather dubiously up at the surrounding trees. Climbing wasn't one of his strong points, but he wasn't about to argue. With some travail, he managed to scale a sturdy ash, where, after recovering from being temporarily blinded by the sun's light, he determined its location. When he climbed down and reported his findings, it was rapidly determined they'd been going due north rather than northeast. They'd gone deeper into the forest rather than toward its edge. Kili looked uncharacteristically grave. This was most disheartening news. He turned to Fili, speaking in an undertone.
"So... we alter course? How long do you think it'll take us to get through? We'll," he lowered his voice to a whisper, suddenly aware of his obligation not to further damage the Company's already flagging morale, "starve if we don't get out of here soon."
Fili made a face, clearly uncomfortable with this idea. His brother was right, of course, and he remembered the Wizard's warning- 'don't eat anything you find inside the forest.' But if it was that or die, he would go against Gandalf's advice.
"I know, Kee, I know. If Uncle's guess was right- and I'm inclined to believe him," the blond glanced at their unconscious leader and shook his head slightly, "then we have another forty miles to go before we reach the forest's edge. There are animals in here. We'll have to hunt, and conserve as much water as possible." Fili paused and gave his brother a concerned, measuring look. The weight of leadership was heavy on his shoulders. "How true is your aim, Brother?"
Kili shrugged, frowning a little. "True enough," he said, then added, sheepishly, "most of the time." He'd fancied himself a first-rate archer until that run-in with the wargs in the Lone Lands. Apparently target practice didn't wreak as much havoc on his nerves as actually having a charging beast's fangs a stone's throw from the point of his arrow. "What do you have in mind? We haven't seen more than a squirrel these past few days. They're quick, and they disappear the instant you spot 'em. Other than that stag, but there's been nothing like him since."
"I could hit a squirrel," said a confident voice at Fili's elbow. The blond jumped, before realizing it was just Ori. The female was holding her slingshot and smiling encouragingly. "Used to do it all the time back at home. Well, they were actually sandrats, not squirrels, but it's the same basic idea, right?" Fili wasn't sure what to think about that. It was one thing to ask his brother to hunt, another entirely to put Ori on the same task. After a moment's tense hesitation, he sighed.
"Alright. You two, keep your eyes open for prey. We need to augment our supplies as much as possible. If you can get 'em on the move, all the better." Lifting his head and his voice, he turned his attention to the others. "Bofur, you take point. Dwalin, in the middle. Gloin, you've got rear guard. Let's move."
Their boots ate up the distance between them and the forest's edge, if indeed, this forest had an edge. The dwarves paused infrequently, and spoke even less, though they often switched off who was pulling the unconscious Thorin along the nonexistent path. That night was no different than the one before, though Billa was less sure of herself when she assured the others that Thorin would eventually wake. With the morning light came the first of Bombur's attempts to cheer them up. His idea of cheering them, however, came in the form of long lists of foods he'd like to eat, and how they were prepared.
"You have to cook them until you have a nice bed of juices," he explained to no one in particular, smiling dreamily. "Then you can add the potatoes and onions- but you have to move it off to the side so it doesn't cook too fast. Otherwise the meat gets crispy too soon and-"
"Stuff it, Bombur!" Bofur was generally quite amiable with the others, but had few qualms about being direct with his portly brother when he was getting carried away about food. As he often did. "You can keep your cooking fantasies to yourself, thank-you very much."
Bombur looked somewhat hurt, but complied. Billa shot Bofur a displeased look.
"He's only trying to help, Bof. Let him be." Turning an encouraging, slightly dreamy smile on Bombur, she waved a hand lightly at him. "Go on, Bombur. You were just getting to the good part." Bombur smiled brightly, but his brother groaned.
"Please, no more food-talk," he growled. "I'm hungry enough as it is."
Fili pushed between them, scowling. "Enough squabbling. Billa, if you and Bombur want to talk cooking, you two can take rear guard. Bofur, I know it's hard, but at least try to keep your mouth shut. We're all hungry, and not talking about food isn't going to help either way." Tempers were short and hot, but Fili was doing his best. "Next clearing we find, we'll take a break. We could all use a rest."
"And a good meal," muttered Billa, rebelliously.
The night seemed darker than ever. Billa watched the trees around them, wishing she didn't have to sit watch all alone. She remembered the night she and Thorin had sat up together, though it felt like it were months ago, now. The silence had seemed less threatening then, and the soft growlings and rustlings that broke it had been, somehow, less hungry.
"Maybe it was because I was less hungry," she murmured, glancing down at the unconscious dwarf beside her. Thorin looked the same as he had when he'd first fallen asleep. Well, drier, perhaps. Not that it made much difference. The halfling sighed and peered around at the shadowy, jumbled forms of the Company, sleeping in small piles around them.
"It's hard," she heard herself say, though she hadn't meant to speak aloud, "getting on without you. I mean, Fili's doing a marvelous job of leading us. He learned that from you, no doubt. But really... it's..." Billa cleared her throat, and sighed again. How could she say it? The need to confide in someone was strong- might as well talk to the one that wouldn't suffer because of her own stupid fears.
"It's scary. There's no other word for it, Thorin. It's downright frightening." She paused a moment, listening to the distant croaking of frogs. "We'll survive, I know we will. But... but I wonder if you'll be with us when we see the sunlight on the other side. The idea that we might have to leave you behind- I don't know if I could do that." Something growled, and the bushes rustled. With a grunt, the hobbit pushed herself onto her knees and poked the fire, adding a small piece of wood before settling beside Thorin again. He was a comforting presence, even still and silent. She wondered if he could hear her. A healer had told her once that speaking to those that were lost in their own minds, caught in the hold of fever or trauma, could help them find their way back to the world of the living. She hoped he'd been right.
"Today wasn't so bad, though. Ori got a squirrel, and Kili killed it- and I caught something, too." Her chest swelled with pride, even as her stomach twinged uneasily. "I don't really... I mean, I didn't know I could do that kind of thing, you know? A fluffy little bunny rabbit. It was just sitting there, innocent as can be. And I... well..." Billa trailed off, frowning. "I was just so hungry. All I could think of was rabbit stew, or casserole, or brazed coney... you know. With all the right herbs, and a pinch of salt, some potatoes and carrots and onion. Next thing I knew, it was dead. I broke its neck, I think."
Billa was feeling a bit queasy, so she looked down at Thorin's face to steady herself. He didn't look angry or impressed. Just neutral. And asleep. The halfling reached out and gently brushed her fingers over his brow, down along his cheek and into his short beard. It was longer now than when they'd started their journey. How long ago had that been? Bag End seemed such a long, long way from here.
"I'd like to think you would have been proud, Thorin. I'm learning how to defend myself, and hunt, and all sorts of things. Soon, I'll hardly be a hobbit at all. Imagine what my father would say if he could see me now." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her hand still cupped around his cheek. "Don't sleep too long. We need you. At least... I do." After a moment of fighting temptation, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. There was no flash of light, or angel's song. He didn't magically wake up. But Billa felt a little better. Perhaps things weren't as dark as they seemed.