Bilbo pulled his belongings from his pack and spread them around himself on the floor. There was little here that he had had when he had begun this journey, and what there was was patched and mended to within an inch of its life. He was not even sure if his clothes could still be considered the same garments, so little of the original cloth was left. But now, of course, he would be able to buy as many new clothes as he wanted. A thirteenth share of all the gold in Erebor. It was almost unthinkable.

Unthinkable it may have been, but the truth was that Bilbo wasn't really trying to think about it at all. If he had, he might have worried about how he was going to get all of his gold back to the Shire, across the long, weary miles that they had been travelling for so many months. He might have worried about the fact that winter was now upon them, or that they had barely escaped with their lives any number of times on the way there even with twelve well-armed dwarves in the party, and on the way back Bilbo would be alone. But he was not really thinking about the journey back at all, or even about his comfortable hobbit hole that awaited him at the end of it. He was thinking about the hollow feeling in his stomach, and the fact that he did not feel relieved and satisfied by the end of the quest, but rather uneasy and melancholy, and he did not know why.

After a while, Fili appeared, smiling broadly and leading his brother by the arm. "Hello, Mr. Baggins!" he said, surveying the circle of Bilbo's belongings. "What are you about?"

Bilbo frowned. "Just thinking about how I'm going to get everything back home," he said.

"Home?" Fili asked, and then seemed to understand. "Oh! But you don't need to worry about that for a while yet, surely? You cannot be intending to go anywhere until winter is over, at least?"

"Well, what is the reason for me to stay?" Bilbo asked, feeling suddenly rather irritable. "You have your precious gold. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Fili frowned, now. "But I thought-" he said, and then glanced at Kili, who seemed to be trying to follow the conversation but apparently not quite succeeding. "I mean, Kili still needs you, and I thought-"

"Kili needs his family," Bilbo said. "Is that not what you and your uncle have been telling me since the beginning? And I did not sign a contract to look after an addle-brained dwarf for the rest of my life, after all!"

Fili looked suddenly rather hurt, and he pulled Kili a little closer to him. "And have you not always been telling us that his brain is not addled?" he said. "And didn't you - you don't think of him that way, do you? You have always seemed so happy to be talking to him!"

"Oh, drat you wretched dwarves!" Bilbo burst out, feeling close to tears for no reason that he could understand. "You spend months crashing around being loud and angry and impatient and scaring the poor lad half out of his wits, and then you think that because I actually take the time to try and understand him, that means I should be grateful to take on all responsibility for him! It is true, you care for nothing but gold!"

Fili's face hardened, then, and he drew himself up, suddenly looking rather regal and not a little like his uncle. "Very well, Mr. Baggins," he said distantly. "You have my gratitude for the help you have given us, and my uncle's, too, and of course you shall have your share of the gold. Beyond that, you are, of course, free to do what you wish."

"Well, and I will," Bilbo snapped. "Just let me explain to Kili and then I shall be on my way directly!" This, of course, was certainly over-ambitious, for it was evening outside, and Bilbo still had not even thought about how he might transport even a small portion of his gold.

"I will explain to him," said Fili. "I would not want to increase the burden he has placed upon you these past months."

And he turned away, and pulled Kili with him, though the little dwarf glanced back at Bilbo, face troubled.

Bilbo sat down heavily on the floor and looked at his scattered possessions, and at the great piles of gold. He had been unreasonable, and he knew it, somewhere underneath his irritation. But instead of the relief he had been expecting, it seemed he was experiencing all the misery and anxiety and fear of the journey all over again. His stomach churned, and he felt like his heart was breaking, and he could not bear it. No, he was a hobbit, and he belonged in his hobbit hole and not here in this cold, echoing mountain with nothing to light it but piles of gold. This was not his home.

It was not.


Fili came back not half an hour later, Kili no longer by his side, and Bilbo braced himself for more sharp words. But the young dwarf did not raise his voice, although his tone was cold and flat.

"I have tried to explain," he said. "But it seems I must increase your burden after all, Mr. Baggins. Please do this last favour for my family, and then we shall let you be, if that is what you want."

"Of course," Bilbo said, getting to his feet, and although he should perhaps have dreaded having to explain to Kili, he felt strangely cheered by the fact that the little dwarf would not take the news from anyone else, even his own brother. He followed where Fili pointed, and soon found Kili sitting on the ground with his back to a pillar. He looked small and dishevelled, even in his fine armour, and when Bilbo appeared he looked up sharply and made to get to his feet, though Bilbo waved him down and sat beside him.

"Hello, my lad," he said. "I have something to tell you." But now that it came to it, he found he did not want to tell Kili. He wanted to tell him about how to talk about things that had happened in the past, or what it meant to have a home, or what it would be like in the future, living in Erebor as its prince. He supposed someone else would have to tell Kili all that, now, and he squeezed his hands into fists and felt a tightness in his throat.

"Fili say hobbit go," said Kili. He looked up at Bilbo from under his eyelashes. "Hobbit go?"

Bilbo sighed. "Yes, my lad," he said. "I must go."

Kili's shoulders hunched a little more. "I'm go with hobbit?" he asked.

"No, no," Bilbo said. "This is your home! You will stay here, with your brother. He can look after you far better than I can, anyway."

Kili did not reply to this, but seemed to shrink into himself even more, staring at the floor. Bilbo felt a pang in his stomach that was certainly guilt and could not have been regret, for after all Kili was so much improved, and everything had turned out as well as he could have ever hoped, and why should he then have any cause for regret? He patted the little dwarf's arm, but Kili pulled away slightly. Bilbo shook his head.

"Come now, my lad," he said. "You will have your brother, and your uncle, and I'm sure your mother will come here as soon as she hears what has happened. You will be perfectly happy without me, I think."

Kili did not look perfectly happy, or even a little happy. He looked wretched, in fact, and Bilbo tried to think of a way to cheer him up. "Would you like to play your harp?" he asked, pointing to the instrument where it stood nearby. But Kili did not look at him, nor at the harp, and Bilbo shuffled round to sit in front of him and ducked his head, trying to see into the little dwarf's face.

"Come come, my lad," he said. "There is no need to sulk about it."

Kili's eyes flicked to him, and then back to the floor. "Why hobbit go?" he said. "Hobbit not friend now?"

"Oh!" said Bilbo, sitting back on his heels. "No, that is not it at all! Of course I am your friend. I always will be. But that does not mean I will always be able to be by your side."

Kili frowned long and hard, and finally shook his head. "I not understand friend," he said, and then hunched even further into himself. "Goodbye hobbit," he muttered, sounding sullenly resigned.

Bilbo opened his mouth and then closed it again. He felt suddenly rather like he might cry, and he stood up abruptly.

"Well, goodbye then," he said, and waited for Kili to reply. But Kili was silent, and after a few moments, Bilbo turned away.


Bilbo was stuffing his clothes back into his bag rather more viciously than was necessary when Ori appeared from around a nearby pile of gold, smiling at him and looking really quite un-Ori-like in a bright chainmail coat and leather vambraces.

"Mr. Baggins!" he said, and then his smile faded a little as he took in the sight of Bilbo. "Are you all right?" he said. "Has something happened?"

"Yes!" Bilbo said, amazed once more at the thick-headedness of dwarves. "Of course something has happened! The dragon is dead, and you have all got your gold and your kingdom, that is what has happened!"

Ori's smile widened again. "It's amazing, isn't it?" he said. Then he frowned. "But you are packing? Are you going somewhere?"

"Back home, of course," Bilbo said. "It is not my kingdom, after all." His tone was quite abrupt, but he did not think he could cope with explaining himself to each member of the company in turn.

In the end, he did not explain himself to anyone else at all, for Ori sat down abruptly in front of him and stared incredulously.

"Whatever do you mean?" he said. "Of course it is your kingdom, if you want it. And you can't go and leave Kili here with us! We will do a frightful job of helping him, you know that!"

"Helping him is not my job," said Bilbo, feeling like he should somehow hire a town crier to proclaim it through the streets of Erebor.

"Well, no," Ori said. "It is not a job at all. But don't you want to help him? Isn't he your friend?"

Bilbo didn't answer, for it was true, of course, Kili was his friend, and he did want to help him, he wanted to help all of them, these blasted dwarves that had somehow crawled into his heart when he wasn't looking. But he did not belong here, in this gloomy, dwarven kingdom. He belonged in his hobbit hole, in front of the fire, eating toast and, and - and doing whatever it was he used to do before he set out on this adventure.

Ori waited for a moment, but when Bilbo kept silent, he looked suddenly rather sad.

"Well, Mr. Baggins," he said, "I suppose you came with us to help us get home, so I can't blame you for wanting to go home, too. And of course you must do what you want."

"Thank you, Ori," said Bilbo and he surprised himself, because he sounded for a moment exactly like Kili. He wondered what Ori would draw next, and how Kili would react to it, and then shook his head. It did not matter, for he would not see it. He would back in his own little house, in his own little life, and he would no longer be responsible for trying to glue together the pieces of Kili that the orcs had scattered far and wide. He would be free, as he had been before, carrying no burden but that of what to eat for supper, and with no fear of anyone knocking on the door and demanding his help. It sounded like everything he had dreamed of for the last few months, sounded peaceful and safe and-

-lonely.

Ori smiled sadly at him. "Don't go without saying goodbye," he said, and stood up to leave. Bilbo watched him go, and thought about sitting in his armchair hundreds of miles away and not knowing what it was that Ori had drawn next. And he made a decision, or changed one he had already made, and he felt suddenly the relief and happiness that he had been expecting ever since the news of the dragon's death, felt a burden lift from his shoulders so that he was suddenly light enough he almost thought he could float.

"Thank you, Ori," he said again.


When Bilbo made his way back over to where Kili had been sitting, he found the little dwarf still there, with his brother beside him now. Fili had his arm around Kili's shoulders, but Kili still looked small and huddled, and Bilbo recognised the pang in his heart now, and it was not all guilt, not at all. He knelt in front of the brothers, and Fili frowned at him, but Kili looked up from under his eyelashes and his hands twitched a little as if he wanted to reach out but dared not. Even that little movement was enough to show Bilbo that he had been a fool. Kili was much improved, it was true, but he was in no way better, or even close to it, and this shadowy, empty kingdom with its piles of gold that Kili cared nothing for and its dwarves who tried to help but were all sharp edges and heavy feet, none of this would heal him by itself. And it was not Bilbo's job, not his responsibility, certainly not, but he found, when he looked inside himself, that he would give what he could willingly, that he would stay, of course he would stay, because his friends needed him, and being needed was often painful and difficult, but it was far better than not being needed at all.

"Hello, my lad," he said to Kili. "I've decided I will not go yet."

Kili looked up properly then, his face half-hopeful, half-suspicious. "Hobbit not go?" he said.

Bilbo nodded. "It's coming on winter, after all," he said. "A bad time to start a journey. And you know, I am determined to teach you how do works if it's the last thing I do."

Kili almost certainly did not comprehend half of what Bilbo said, but he certainly caught the most important part, for he nodded and reached out, now, grasping Bilbo's upper arm as if he was afraid he might simply vanish (which, of course, Bilbo sometimes did). "Yes," he said. "Yes, not go. Hobbit not go."

Bilbo laughed, and then, rather on impulse, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Kili, pressing him to his chest. Kili's armour was rather uncomfortable, but Bilbo squeezed him tight nonetheless, and Kili settled his chin in the corner between Bilbo's neck and his shoulder and seemed content enough to be embraced.

"Not go," he whispered in Bilbo's ear, and Bilbo sat back and smiled at him.

"Do not go," he said. "Do."

"Do," said Kili, though it was obvious to Bilbo he did not understand how the word fitted in. Then Bilbo suddenly remembered Fili, and he looked quickly over to him.

"That is, if your brother doesn't object," he said to Kili. "I am a guest, after all."

But the cold look on Fili's face had disappeared entirely, replaced with a relieved smile.

"I could not object less, Mr. Baggins," he said. "I am so glad. I don't know what we would have done without you!"

"Well," said Bilbo, feeling his cheeks go rather pink, "I suppose you won't have to find out!"

Fili nodded, and then reached forward and embraced Bilbo himself, his arms tight around Bilbo's back. Bilbo got a faceful of Fili's hair, but he smiled through it. When Fili let go, though, his face had become serious.

"Thank Mahal for that," he said.

Bilbo nodded. "Well, now that's decided, I wonder what we should do next?" he said. "How does one go about rebuilding a kingdom, anyway?"

"First we must find the Arkenstone," said Fili. "And after that I suppose there will be a lot of clearing of rubble to do, and mending of walls and so on. We'll need to get the forges going and-" He stopped then, and turned speculative eyes on Kili. "Forges," he said. "Mr. Baggins, there must be forges in Erebor!"

"Well, of course," Bilbo said. "It is a dwarven kingdom, after all. I imagine there are more forges than bathrooms!"

Fili was already getting to his feet, though, and pulling Kili up after him. "My uncle will know where they are," he said. "Come on! We must find him!"

And he hurried off, towing his brother behind him, and Bilbo had to jog to catch up.


They found Thorin on his knees atop a pile of gold, carefully moving object after object aside, as if digging for buried treasure. Buried treasure was certainly not something that was difficult to find, but since it was buried in other treasure, Bilbo was not quite sure why anyone would bother. Fili struggled up the side of the pile, dislodging trinkets every which way, and Bilbo, coming behind with nimbler feet, found himself having to dodge regularly out of the way, until he skirted sideways and came up a different face. Finally, though, they all stood before Thorin, and the dwarf king got to his feet and looked them all up and down.

"Have you news of the Arkenstone?" he said.

Bilbo frowned, for it was the second time in ten minutes he had heard that particular word, although with Fili's excitement over forges he had not thought to ask what it meant. Now did not seem to be the right time, though, for Fili was speaking, his voice full of suppressed excitement.

"No, we have not seen it," he said. "But uncle, you must show us where the forges are. If we can get them burning, we will be able to remove Kili's shackles!"

Bilbo suddenly understood what all of this was about, and rather kicked himself for not thinking of it before. Of course, there had been the business with the dragon, and the watchtower and clearing the secret door, and really they had only just discovered that they were out of danger, but all the same, it seemed Bilbo had got so used to seeing the ugly collar around Kili's neck that he had forgotten it was possible to take it off, if they only had the tools. Now he squeezed Kili's elbow and waited expectantly for Thorin's reply.

Thorin looked at Kili, and nodded. "Of course," he said, "we will remove them as soon as we have found the Arkenstone."

Fili frowned. "Can we not go now?" he asked. "The others can look for the stone, and we can start repairing the forges."

Thorin shook his head. "We must find it," he said. "All the gold in Erebor is worth nothing without it."

His voice had an odd quality to it, less present than usual, and Bilbo found himself frowning, too.

"But-" Fili started, and Thorin turned on him, then, eyes flashing and mouth twisted.

"But me no buts, nephew," he said. "Have I not impressed on you again and again how important the stone is? Your brother has worn those chains for twenty-five years, he can wait a few more days."

Fili took a step back, then, his eyes going wide, and Bilbo felt his mouth drop open. A surge of anger flowed through him, but there was something quite unsettling about Thorin as he stood there gazing angrily upon his nephew, and Bilbo did not speak out, fearing to make matters worse somehow.

"Well?" said Thorin. "What say you?"

Fili nodded slowly. "Of course," he said. "We will look for the stone first."

Thorin nodded then, a fond smile coming across his face, and he laid a hand on Fili's shoulder. "Your mother would be proud if she could see you now," he said.

Fili did not reply to this, but hastily took his leave, and dragged Kili back down to the chamber floor and halfway to the entrance to the secret tunnel before stopping and glancing over his shoulder. Thorin had disappeared, presumably looking for his stone in amongst the mountains of gold, and Bilbo shook his head and frowned.

"What is this Arkenstone?" he said.

"It is-" Fili said, his tone sharp, and then seemed to reconsider and drew a breath. "It is a gem of incalculable value," he said. "It is beautiful beyond the dreams of kings, and it is the symbol of Erebor. Without it, my uncle cannot truly claim the kingship." He looked at Bilbo, but although his voice was firm, there was a look of uncertainty in his eyes. "It is the most important thing, of course it is."

"I see," Bilbo said, feeling unease settle in his stomach as he thought of the beautiful jewel he had picked up the day before. "What does it look like?"

"I have never seen it, of course," said Fili. "But it is a large white gem, they tell me, and unmistakeable in its beauty."

Bilbo felt cold. He should just take the gem from his pocket and give it to Fili, he knew, but something about the way Thorin's mouth had twisted when he spoke of it gave him pause. Thorin, who had been so desperate to see the collar removed from his nephew's neck, and now seemed to place this as lesser in importance than a jewel, be it never so stupendous. Bilbo knew that dwarves loved gold, and that Thorin loved Erebor, but he had known the dwarf king for some time now, and he had truly thought he loved his nephews most of all.

"Well," he said, shifting uncomfortably. "I suppose we had better look for it."


Look they did, deep into the night, and then they slept and when they woke they looked again. But they did not find the Arkenstone, of course, for Bilbo had it in his pocket the entire time. Sometimes they saw Thorin, who always demanded if they had seen the gem, but for the most part Fili seemed to go out of his way to avoid his uncle, and Bilbo was quite happy to do the same. As the next day drew on, though, Fili grew increasingly restless, and finally he sat down on a large wooden chest of coins and gave an exasperated sigh.

"It is no good," he said. "We could be looking for years and never find it! I do not understand why we can't go to the forge while Thorin and the others look."

"Well, there's no reason we shouldn't," Bilbo said. "After all, Thorin is not the only one who knows where things are in Erebor. Did not Balin live here as a young dwarf, and Dwalin too?"

"They did," Fili said slowly. "But they will do what my uncle tells them."

"And if your uncle does not tell them anything at all?" Bilbo asked. Fili stared at him.

"You think I should disobey him?" he asked.

"I think he has his kingdom back already," Bilbo said. "I think the Arkenstone has been lost for over a hundred and fifty years, and I'm sure it can wait a few more days."

Fili grimaced as he recognised his uncle's phrase, but then he looked at his brother, eyeing the collar around his neck with intense dislike. "It isn't fair," he said quietly. "It isn't fair to make him wear that thing when we could take it off."

"No," Bilbo said. "It isn't fair, and your uncle is rather out of sorts, or he would agree with us."

"He is putting the kingdom first, as is his duty," said Fili, although he didn't sound very sure.

"And what is your duty?" Bilbo asked.

Fili looked at his brother again, and then got to his feet.

"Dwalin, then," he said. "Let us find Dwalin."


Dwalin seemed happy enough to take an hour out of his search to take them to one of the many forges of the mountain. He had been only a young dwarf when the kingdom had fallen, but dwarves remember well any paths that lie underground, and after turning aside a few times when passageways were blocked with rubble, he finally entered a great room that seemed all chimney and hearth. It was littered with rubbish and stones, and the hearth was blackened and long cold. Fili sighed impatiently, and Dwalin clapped him on the shoulder.

"It'll be a long job, indeed," he said. "But worth it."

And he took his leave, leaving Bilbo and Fili to contemplate the task ahead of them.

"I'm sure there was no mention of constantly shifting rocks around in my contract!" Bilbo said, but he set to with only a relatively small amount of grumbling, and after a moment remembered to ask Kili to help, which he did with enthusiasm. Between the three of them, they worked rather rapidly, especially as they did not care to carry the rocks all the way out of the mountain, but instead stacked them in the passageway, making sure not to block it entirely. By the time evening grew near (according to Fili, who seemed to be better at telling the time underground than Bilbo was), the forge itself was clear of rubble, and Fili inspected it critically.

"Will we be able to light it?" Bilbo asked. He had little idea of how forges worked, or how they might be able to get the shackles off Kili without burning his skin.

"It's damaged," Fili said, and pointed. "Here and here. I don't know if the chimney will draw properly. And it may be blocked, of course." He stuck his head under the chimney and peered up, then pulled back and shook his head. "It might be blocked, or it might just be dark outside," he said. "We'll have to come back in the morning, I suppose, or we risk smoking ourselves out."

"What is?" Kili asked, looking at the forge with interest, and Fili turned to him and smiled.

"Well, I won't get this one wrong, anyway," he said. "It's a forge, Kili. Forge."

"Forge," said Kili. "What forge make? Forge is make food?"

Fili laughed. "No, my brother," he said. "It is for making things out of metal. Do you know metal?" He glanced at Bilbo, and Bilbo nodded.

"Yes, yes, metal," Kili said. "Is metal, is stone, dwarf is-" He frowned, and Bilbo frowned, too, for it was the same thing the little dwarf had said a few days ago in the tunnel.

"Dwarvish flesh and dwarvish bone," Fili said absently, and then blinked and looked sharply at his brother. "Where did you learn that? Mr. Baggins, did you teach him?"

"I don't even know what it is," Bilbo said. "Kili?"

"Dwarf is fish and dwarf is bone," Kili said. "It is right?"

"But where did you learn it?" Fili asked urgently.

Kili seemed to understand, then, and he stood for a moment, deep in thought. When he looked up at Fili, he seemed rather hesitant.

"You teach me?" he said.

Fili shook his head. "Not me."

Kili nodded slowly. "Not know where learn," he said. "Just know."

"You just know," Fili said slowly, and then he reached out and laid his hands on his brother's shoulders and stared at him for a moment. "Here is metal, here is stone, dwarvish flesh and dwarvish bone," he said. "Flesh, not fish."

Kili nodded and mouthed the rhyme to himself, then repeated it, and Fili corrected him, and by the fourth time he had it right. And when he repeated it with the words perfect, Fili beamed, and Kili stared at him solemnly.

"I remember," he said. "You happy because I remember, is it?"

"Yes," Fili said, his voice cracking just a little. "Yes, I am happy because you remembered."

"I want remember," Kili said then. "Want be Kili."

"Oh, my brother," Fili said, and now he pulled him into his arms. "You are Kili," he said. "You are Kili."


They decided to leave the forge for the next day, and made their way back to the great chamber, Fili apparently having easily memorised the route they had taken and successfully avoiding all the blocked-off tunnels. When they arrived there, the chamber was abuzz with activity, and Thorin stood in the centre of it all, listening to Balin, who was whispering in his ear.

"They've found it!" said Fili, and Bilbo wondered for a moment if maybe they had indeed, for perhaps the stone in his pocket was not the coveted Arkenstone at all, but simply another trinket, albeit a very beautiful one. But Thorin raised his arms for silence, and an expectant hush fell across the company.

"We have heard from the ravens again," he said. "The men of Lake-Town march this way, armed and ready for battle. With them come the elves of Mirkwood."

A great murmur ran through the assembled company, and Bilbo exchanged an alarmed glance with Fili. Elves and men, marching on Erebor? But what for?

"They come here to claim the gold that is rightfully ours," Thorin said. "They come here to steal the kingdom we have only just regained. They think us weak because we are few, but they have not bargained on the strength that lies in Durin's folk."

There was a ragged cheer at this, although it was somewhat undermined by the nervous shifting of the dwarves. Only Thorin stood firm, and Dwalin beside him, both looking every inch a warrior, and Bilbo found himself quite against his will believing that the two of them could take on all the men and elves single-handed and live to recount the victory.

"But what does it mean?" asked Gloin, and Thorin threw back his shoulders and stood proud in his gleaming armour.

"It means that we must prepare ourselves for war," he said.