A/N: Filler chapter ahoy! This was supposed to contain the riddle sequence but it became too long. So, I split it into 2 chapters instead!
Thanks for all the (wonderful!) comments, favorites, follows, bookmarks and (over 2000!) kudos! I really appreciate them all so much ^_^
❤•°o.O`•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´ ◇ⓛⓞⓥⓔ◇ `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´O.o°•❤
You lift your trusty sword up and meet blades with a shadowy form. You parry its attacks, ears ringing from each strike. The shadow – more of a familiarly shaped curly-haired blob, really – mirrors your every movement, swinging its own weapon in sync with yours.
You frown in concentration, recalling the dwarrows' instructions during training; how to look for an opponent's weakness and how to take advantage of it –
You catch the path of your thoughts and abruptly halts it. You do not want to know the enemy's weakness because you do not want to win. What are you doing? This is another spectacular chance to claim your death and you are about to waste it.
You cease your struggles and leave yourself unguarded, undefended. Unfortunately, the shadow's movements stop with yours. For several moments, both of you simply stands there, gazing at each other like mindless rabbits. You give it an irritating glance, wondering why it suddenly decides to spare you.
You unconsciously shift your hold upon your weapon, lowering it a bit. The shadow does the same. You cock a brow, surprised. The shadow emulates it perfectly. Then, you raise your left arm and wave.
The blob waves back.
Ah.
Lifting your sword once more, you know what you have to do. You swiftly and unhesitatingly stab the shadow in front of you. The sword goes through the form without hitting anything solid, which is reasonable seeing it is, in fact, a shadow.
Of course, this action is one the blob does not imitate. You sigh. You do not know why you even bother.
Instead, the shadow tilts its head-like part. "Curious, is it not?" It speaks with a cadence similar to yours, and is joined by a mix of other unidentifiable echoing voices. "How you say you want to die –"
"And I do," You interject.
"But truly," it continues like you have not spoken. "You, fool of a Took and blind of a Baggins, are merely so very afraid to live."
You open your mouth but found no sensible reply to its remark. You cross your arms, sword miraculously disappearing from your grasp. "That doesn't even make sense," you say, brows furrowing.
It laughs, unrestrained amusement oozing from its form. "Perhaps not now." Then, the shadow's jaw opens wide and it shouts, "DWALIN!"
Bilbo came awake instantly, extremely disoriented. He opened his eyes just in time to see Bofur and Thorin dash further into the cave, Dwalin nowhere in sight.
The hobbit's mind slowly gathered itself, processing what happened. Had they decided to desert him after all? Although, they left the packs too . . .
Then, Bofur was coming back, expression dark. Had he come back to retrieve the supplies? Bilbo shook his head; no, no, no, Bofur wouldn't allow the hobbit to be left behind, would he? If there was one thing Bilbo knew about the dwarf, it was that he was an extremely loyal friend.
"What happened?" Bilbo inquired calmly, deciding that speculating wouldn't get him far. The miner started pacing the width of the cave. "Where's – Where's Mister Dwalin and T-Thorin?" The hobbit hoped the answer wouldn't be in the lines of 'Thorin considered things further and concluded that leaving you behind would be the best course of action after all but not to worry; I'll stay behind with you.'
"A goblin or somethin' got to Dwalin," Bofur started, grip tight on his mattock. "'T'was too fast. They dragged him inside the cave, and Thorin went and followed them." Then, the miner muttered quietly to himself. "I didn't see anythin'. There was no one there. The rock that hit Dwalin came out of nowhere. How . . . ?"
"O-Oh." Bilbo gave a wide-eyed glance at the darkness at the back of the cave. On second thought, mayhaps the hobbit's first assumption would have been a far better course of events.
Someone had bested Dwalin? Bilbo simply couldn't imagine it; while he knew, in a practical sense, that the dwarf was as mortal as the hobbit himself, Bilbo had been under the illusion that Dwalin was invincible. With the axes and gruff exterior, it was difficult to think otherwise.
It then occurred to the hobbit that all of his companions had a very real chance of perishing in this journey. It wasn't that Bilbo wasn't aware of this before – the experience with the trolls and the mountains attested to that – but he would forget the fact as soon as the dangers passed. More so when all of them got out of the perils relatively unscathed. It was as if a screen of illusion came up before his eyes, shielding him from the bitter cruel reality of his companion's possible demise. And now, Bilbo was disillusioned once more.
His stomach churned, and he felt like he had been doused with cold water. The hobbit naively assumed that death would befall him and no else. Yavanna, how thoughtless could he be?
"Shouldn't you be going with them?" If the goblin or goblins had defeated Dwalin, then it should not to be underestimated.
"More of them might come through here," Bofur replied.
Bilbo read between the lines and realized the dwarf's reason for staying behind. "I'll be fine, Bofur," he reassured.
Bofur looked skeptical, which was reasonable seeing as Bilbo could still feel the effects of his fever. He doubted he could even stand upright, let alone fight off whatever threat that came his way.
But Bofur didn't have to know that, did he?
"Truly!" he exclaimed. "Go follow them."
Bofur merely shook his head, tapping nimble fingers on the handle of his mattock. Bilbo crossed his arms and sighed. Perhaps he was being such a worrywart for nothing at all. He settled in to wait.
The minutes that followed were tense. The only sounds were the scuffs Bofur's boots made as he continued pacing. The hobbit didn't take his eyes off the back of the cave, anticipating the return of the dwarrows.
Awful scenarios ran through Bilbo's mind as time passed with no sign of their triumph. Dwalin and Thorin lying on the ground, bloodied and lifeless, the goblins cackling around them while the two of them here waited in ignorance. Thorin and Dwalin, falling down a deep pit and unable to climb up without the proper tools, growing hungry and thirsty.
Bilbo twisted his hands, anxiety gnawing at his chest like an ugly all-consuming monster. Bofur looked no better.
Finally, after what seemed like days but was probably mere minutes, Bilbo could take it no longer.
The dwarf king and the hobbit just exchanged names and Bilbo did not endured the dwarf's rudeness just for Thorin to up and disappear right after he had offered friendship. And Bilbo still hadn't gotten the opportunity to offer Dwalin his first name! The dwarf had been his main mentor in sword training and really, he should have thought to offer sooner.
So, the hobbit refused to sit idly by while those two get themselves in trouble.
"They should be back by now." The hobbit glanced around, looking for his sword. He found it nestled between their packs.
Bofur flinched at his words. "Aye, they should be." The miner's voice sounded bewildered as he asked, " Wha . . . What are you doing?"
Bilbo had grabbed his sword and was in the process of standing up, using the weapon as support. As soon as Bofur realized his intention, he came forward to stop him.
Dizziness clouded his mind but Bilbo found he could push it away, determined as he was to stand on his own two feet.
"Bilbo –"
"Look, Bofur," Bilbo started firmly, knees wobbling as he straightened. Just a bit, mind. "If Thorin and Mister Dwalin had indeed ran into trouble, it's better we act now before it became too late." He glanced at the back of the cave once more. Then, he brought his gaze back to Bofur. "And seeing as you refuse to leave me behind, I'm coming with."
Although he knew he would more of a hindrance than a help when it came down to a fight, Bilbo would rather fight nonetheless than sit around worrying. Furthermore, the only thing stopping Bofur from going after their companions was the fact that he was leaving the hobbit behind. Bilbo wouldn't let him choose.
Bofur looked contemplative, which boded well. He must be as anxious as Bilbo. His gaze flitted between the path ahead and the sick hobbit in front of him. "Aye, I should go and check while ye –"
Bilbo shot him a venomous glare.
" – join me, aye." Bofur finished with a chuckle, amused at the hobbit's attempt to intimidate him. It would be better to stick together, both of them being incapacitated in some way. Plus, the miner would like to keep an eye on the hobbit himself.
"Good." Bilbo patted the dwarf's shoulder, smiling. "I'm glad we understand each other, Bofur."
❤•°o.O`•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´ ◇ⓛⓞⓥⓔ◇ `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´O.o°•❤
Bilbo had never been afraid of the dark; when he was a kit, he used to wander around his lightless room, pretending he had the ability to see in the dark. He expertly fought off the monsters that didn't have such abilities. Of course, some of those ventures left dark bruises on his shins and arms when he bumped into the furniture. His father had been sick with worry, thinking that someone had been hurting him. His mother had laughed in a way unlike of a lady hobbit when Bilbo admitted his nighttime adventures.
Although their companions were missing and the situation was taking a turn for the worse, Bilbo couldn't help but feel like he had during those play times. The darkness enclosing around them, unknown enemies ahead, a sword by his waist . . . he was practically in a story book.
Bilbo resisted the urge to giggle. Mayhaps his fever refused to abate after all.
He tightened his hold onto the back of Bofur's cloak as they meandered in the dark (the hobbit couldn't possibly hold Bofur's injured arm!). Bilbo had made sure to sheathed his sword before they go; it wouldn't do well to alert the goblins in the form of a glowing blade. Besides, Bilbo was still feeling a bit woozy and he feared would accidentally maim Bofur.
With Bilbo's feeble and blind state, they trotted quite slowly along the darkened path. Bofur's senses prevented them from coming to a dead end or hitting any jutting rocks. The dwarf himself was clearly agitated but Bilbo said nothing of it. The only thing that would calm Bofur down was the sight of their missing companions.
After half-an-hour of sluggish walking and deafening silence, the hobbit broke it. He haphazardly kicked something heavy on the ground, causing a cacophonous sound. Both of them startled, Bilbo accidentally letting go of Bofur. He stepped on something smooth and slipped. His feet tangled with themselves and, with lightheadedness stealing his balance, the only way to go was down. Bilbo yelped; he was more indignant of the fact that his own trustworthy feet had betrayed him more than anything. Bofur spun around and attempted to catch him but acted too late. Bilbo landed hard on his hand and knees, and he grimaced. Stupid, clumsy, burdensome . . .
Bilbo's inner chastising halted as he felt two different things under his palms.
His left hand closed around an object that was too cold and too smooth to be a small stone. He plucked it from the ground, curious. He rolled it on his palm, feeling the texture and shape . . . a ring? What in Yavanna's name was a ring doing in these parts?
Soon, however, his focus went to the article his right hand had grabbed. Cold cylindrical steel was lined with sleek grooves. And when Bilbo moved it slightly, he heard the familiar clang against stone.
"Bilbo, are ye alright?" Bofur kneeled before the hobbit, searching for any kind of wound by touch.
"Orcrist," Bilbo breathed, fear of what this entailed spreading to his chest. Any lingering playfulness he might have felt vanished.
"What?"
The hobbit grabbed Bofur's hand and led it to the hilt of the sword he had stumbled upon. Bofur inhaled sharply, coming to the same conclusion.
Bilbo had worried, yes. However, the hobbit had been in denial after all. He hoped that they would wander and find Thorin and Dwalin hale, and the former would scold them for leaving the packs behind.
The fact that they found Thorin's sword with the owner himself nowhere near . . . Bilbo swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat.
Bofur cursed.
"We need to find them quickly." Bofur lifted the hobbit up to his feet. Bilbo let him, holding Thorin's sword securely in one hand.
At the word 'quickly', Bilbo found himself coming to an epiphany. He could no longer come with. "No, Bofur." He whispered, the steel around his hands helping him come to a decision. "You need to find them quickly." The hobbit did not need to see Bofur's questioning gaze to know his confusion. "This sword here is proof that they need help immediately. And we cannot give them that if there is a sick hobbit slowing you down."
Bofur growled. "For the last time, I'm not gonna–"
" – leave me behind, I know." Bilbo sighed. "But you cannot take me further. I would be a hindrance more than anything. And right now, we can't afford that. Thorin and Mister Dwalin can't afford that."
There was a pregnant pause. Then, Bofur released a resigned sigh, seemingly seeing reason.
But apparently not as he started leading the hobbit forward.
"Bofur –"
"There's a crevice here." Bofur said. Gently, he pushed Bilbo inside and sat him down. The hobbit felt strong unwielding stone by his sides but there was enough space to prevent him from feeling claustrophobic. Bofur bent down and continued speaking, "Ye'll stay here and I'll come back to get you after I find the others."
"Alright." As much as Bilbo wanted to join Bofur in his search, there was nothing else he could do. "Oh. And here." The hobbit removed Bofur's hat from his head and placed settled atop the dwarf's. "This will serve as your good-luck charm in my stead."
Bofur chuckled and Bilbo internally cried in triumph. It seemed he had successfully lessened thee dwarf's unrest.
"I suppose it'll have to do 'till I come back." Bofur fixed the hat around his hair.
And if Bofur didn't get to come back for him? The hobbit frowned, looking for the honest answer within himself. That . . . would be fine, he supposed. It would be frightening, certainly, to aimlessly wander around in the dark. On the other hand, Bilbo had two swords with him; he had options other than starving to death.
Internally, Bilbo couldn't help but sigh in relief. With the passing thought of wishing to survive the quest and his recent dream, he feared his resolve for death had weakened. It was good to know otherwise.
Callused fingers tangled in his hair, startling Bilbo out of his musings. Bofur drew the hobbit in and pressed their foreheads together. The hobbit merely let him, frozen in shock. For dwarrows, such gestures were embarrassingly intimate, Bilbo had come to learn.
"Listen to me, Bilbo," Bofur said softly, breaths mingling with the hobbit's. He said it in a tone Bilbo had never heard the dwarf use. "Ye're my friend and . . . I need ye to promise me ye'll be safe. That ye'll do whatever it takes to keep yourself safe."
"I . . ." What had gotten into Bofur?
The dwarf gave him a small shake. "Promise me ye're not gonna run off towards any danger. That ye'll stay out of harm's way. Promise me."
"Bofur . . . I . . ." What was happening? Bilbo couldn't possibly promise that! The hobbit thought fast. "I - I would do whatever it takes." There. Not quite a promise to do what Bofur asked.
The dwarf's hand twitched. "I see." Bofur pulled back and picked up his weapon with his good arm. "Don't ye try anything. I'll be back soon."
Then, the dwarf leaned down, his moustache tickling Bilbo's skin as he planted a kiss upon the hobbit's forehead like one would do to a scared child. Bilbo blushed and he was sure his fever just spiked. Before he could say anything, Bofur had already ambled ahead.
The hobbit was left tucked in a cranny, touching his forehead. He found himself utterly bewildered but secretly gladdened of the sudden affectionate gestures he had been bestowed.
❤•°o.O`•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´ ◇ⓛⓞⓥⓔ◇ `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´O.o°•❤
A/N: As you could see, I really like bromance. There's not nearly enough in the real world.
Riddle sequence ahead! For those who thought I was going to take the ring and Gollum seriously . . . I apologize in advance.
Constructive criticisms are welcome! Kindly point out any glaring errors. Help me improve my writing, guys!
Have a productive day! (unlike me)
~ Vividpast