Orcs, in general, were not known for their ability to get along with, well, anyone and that included other orcs. When Bilba had knelt beneath the window she'd heard a number of loud arguments from inside and they hadn't shown any hint of subsiding. Some would end and new ones would start while still others simply got louder.
Every so often, Kili would push up from where he'd been hugging the wall next to the window to peer inside. It would only be for a second, barely long enough to even see anything, but each time he'd drop back into position and shake his head at her as if he'd seen something very important in that brief second of time.
Bilba had no idea what he was waiting for, or how he could see anything, but every time she simply nodded and stayed settled where she was. A pile of small rocks sat at her feet and she could feel the grit and sharp edges of the one clutched in her hand, waiting to be used.
She'd use it when Kili told her it was time, and not before. She trusted him, more than he did apparently and, Yavanna damn it but she was having a long talk with Thorin after this was all over, assuming she survived...and he survived.
Honestly, when Mahal had created the Durins had he assigned a certain amount of pride and self-confidence to be spread out along the line and it'd simply run out by the time it came to Fili and Kili? Thorin certainly didn't have the same problem, not as far as she'd been able to tell anyway. If anything, she was certain he could bottle his confidence and pride, sell it at a market for next to nothing, and still have an inordinate amount left over.
Who knows though, perhaps she wasn't being entirely fair. She'd never particularly thought of Fili as lacking in confidence until the whole Thorin-going-temporarily-insane thing and, really, who could blame him then? He'd been raised to be his uncle's heir and, when it came to it, he'd failed to be the leader the Company, and his uncle, had needed him to be.
At least, she had no doubt that's how he saw it. She certainly had never looked at him as having failed at anything. Thorin had been ill but he'd still been alive, and in charge. Trying to force the Company to effectively betray him could have led to the breaking of bonds that might never have been repaired. Likewise, trying to force Thorin to a certain way of thinking, or action, might have resulted in his injury, or theirs. Faced with impossible choices, Fili had chosen to withdraw and, in that decision, had shown the true sort of leader he was. One able to set aside his own pride and make the hard decisions.
A hard, and incredibly brave decision, as Bilba had assumed Fili realized, which was why she'd never commented on it. Or noticed what he was dealing with despite being with him every single day. She'd had her own things to worry about, like being pregnant with babies she'd been convinced would grow to the size of adult hobbits before they were ready to be born, and had assumed Fili was fine. Fili was always fine, except when he wasn't because he was a person just like her and prone to the same insecurities and worries.
Yavanna, she was as bad as Thorin wasn't she?
Forget having a long talk with Thorin. Someone needed to sit her and Thorin down and have a long conversation about not getting so engrossed in their own problems that they ignored the problems of those right next to them.
Better yet, maybe just a talk about noticing said problems to begin with.
How was she ever going to properly raise Ash and Frerin if she couldn't see what was right in front of her face with two people she considered her brothers in all but blood?
As if the world enjoyed irony, Kili leaned up to look inside again, catching her attention and placing him literally in front of her face. Guilt rushed through her and she suppressed a sigh. She didn't blame his family for being overprotective. They'd lost so much in Erebor, and then continued to suffer after. Things in Ered Luin, from what she'd been told, had been less than ideal, and it was quite common to lose people over the winter, from cold, hunger and sickness. It was a fact she knew haunted Thorin and had been a big part of what had driven him to take so drastic a measure as going after a dragon with a small handful of incredibly dedicated dwarves.
Add to that the fact Kili's mother had already suffered the loss of her grandfather, father, brother and husband, as well as how rare and protected dwarven children already were, and of course she was overprotective of her baby. Bilba had no doubt the woman was protective of Fili as well, but there was something about the baby of the family. It might not be rational, but it was there. Even she sometimes found herself fussing over Ash a little more than Frerin, her mind somehow insisting he was smaller, or more delicate simply because he was younger.
Now that she'd seen how such treatment had affected Kili, however, she was going to do her utmost to see that she stopped it. She didn't want Ash growing up to think he was weak just because he was younger, or Frerin thinking she expected more from him because he was older. That probably explained even more why Fili had reacted so badly to Thorin exiling him. So much was seemingly expected of him as the older son, and when he felt he'd failed...
She flinched, comments both boys had made in the past crossing her mind. The truth of how they'd been feeling had been there, had she simply bothered to listen. Considering how devoted both boys had been to her, and every concern she'd ever had, it was downright shameful she hadn't seen it sooner. She remembered her assertion not so long ago that Kili wasn't so hard to read and grimaced in embarrassment. She had noticed a little, but not near the depth that had been there, and certainly not enough to open her mouth and say something sooner.
Something inside her hardened and she narrowed her eyes.
Fili and Kili deserved better.
So did Ash and Frerin, and even Thorin going by how quick she'd been in the past, and just a few minutes earlier, to blame him while ignoring her own negligence.
They all deserved better and, by Yavanna, she was determined they were going to get it.
Kili hissed at her and she raised an eyebrow to see him leaning up again to peer over the ledge. Setting her musings aside for the moment, she copied his position and pushed up just enough to risk a glimpse over the windowsill.
The sheer smell coming from inside nearly knocked her off her feet, but she clenched her teeth and tried, semi-successfully, to ignore it. Kili was indicating something with a sharp jerk of his head and she saw a pair of orcs in the final throes of an argument. As she watched, one of them turned to stalk off while the other leaned back in his chair with all the arrogance of one who felt he'd won.
Kili gave a short nod toward the one leaving, and Bilba returned the gesture. She'd been leaning with her back against the wall but she carefully rolled until her stomach was pressed against the stone. She hefted the small stone in her hand, aimed, and then let it fly.
It flew true and struck the retreating orc a sharp blow in the back of the head. The rock wasn't large enough to cause serious damage, but it must have stung, both his skull and his pride. The orc gave a roar of rage and spun, focusing in on his opponent who was still seated behind him.
The orc, who apparently hadn't seen the rock, raised an eyebrow in confusion but had no chance to say anything as the orc Bilba had struck lunged at him. He slammed into the sitting orc hard enough to knock him back in the chair. The creature hit the table behind him, which rocked hard enough to tip over a mug of she-didn't-want-to know into the lap of another orc. It leapt to its feet, screaming insults at the two fighting orcs, but they were a little too preoccupied to listen.
Then, because he was an orc and they weren't exactly known for their ability to control themselves, the new orc proceeded to turn and punch a colleague who had nothing to do with anything at all. This led to a second fight, which soon caused a third due to the tightness of the space they were in, which soon led to a fourth and, before they knew it, the entire place was in a free for all.
Kili gave her a bright grin, carefully got into a kneeling position, and nocked one of his few remaining arrows to his bowstring.
Bilba frowned. "Do you think they'll notice it's not an orc arrow?" she whispered.
"Doubt it," Kili hissed back. "They're too angry to notice much of anything. Lucky us."
"You shouldn't mention luck," Bilba muttered. "If you do it might remember it's not supposed to be here."
Kili chuckled, and then quickly rose, fired, and dropped down again. Inside, a howl of pain sounded, followed by one of rage. A second later, a glimpse over the window ledge showed weapons had entered the fray, black ichor being shed liberally. Bilba grimaced and dropped down again, even as Kili rose once more to fire another arrow. That left him with two that he carefully stowed back in his quiver before reattaching it to his belt.
After that, they held still and listened to the mayhem inside. At one point, an orc was thrown over the windowsill they were hiding under but Kili, reacting instantly, had the creature's throat slit before its attacker dragged it back inside. They held still, worried the other creature might wonder how his victim came to have his throat slit but it must not have noticed or cared for it never appeared in the window.
Eventually, the noise began to die down. Kili checked again and then frowned at her. "I should have you stay here."
"Probably," Bilba agreed, "but what if the giant spider of evil shows up? Or an orc?"
Kili scowled. "Yeah." He sighed and slowly rose to his feet, next to the window, holding his bow in one hand. "You need to stay behind me, all right? And promise you'll do what I say, without question?"
Bilba's eyes narrowed. "Can I question after?"
"Sure," Kili said, eyes trained to the side as if he could see around the edge of the window and inside through strength of will.
"Deal." Bilba got her own sword out, an action that seemed to make Kili look even more agitated. Rather than say anything, however, he simply nodded at her. He then nocked one of his final two arrows to the string of his bow, and spun out to stand in front of the window. He let both arrows fly almost faster than she could see, then drew his sword, planted a hand on the ledge of the window, and leapt inside.
Bilba took a deep breath, gripped her sword in both hands, and spared a brief second to regret not keeping up with the sword lessons she'd taken on the original journey to recover Erebor.
Then she put a hand on the ledge, and leapt inside after Kili.
In the end, her tragic lack of sword skills didn't matter as she ended up doing little to no fighting at all. Most of the orcs had already killed one another, leaving the room a rather disturbing scene of carnage.
Of those remaining, several were injured and neither they, nor the few healthy ones, proved to be any match for Kili. Bilba stayed where she was, just inside the window, and waited for him to be done. Once he was, he nodded toward a set of stairs leading up and she quietly fell in behind him.
There was no sound from upstairs, and the first few rooms they looked in were empty, suggesting the orcs in them had gone downstairs to join the fray, and had subsequently died.
The staircase spiraled, leaving the way ahead of them out of sight most of the time and forcing them to proceed slowly. The last thing they wanted to do was get themselves killed after almost all the orcs were dead.
A sudden commotion came from overhead, the shrieking of orcs and clash of steel, and they both froze. It ended almost as soon as it started, but Kili kept still, waiting. When nothing happened he carefully started moving again, only to almost immediately freeze once more as the clear clatter of feet on the stairs came from overhead.
They were at a section of stair where the wall of the tower hemmed them in on one side, while the other had crumbled away revealing a look straight down to the bottom level and what was left of the orcs. There was nowhere for them to go without turning their backs on whoever was coming down, which neither of them was foolish enough to do.
Kili was in front of her and, given how he was much larger she was, most of Bilba's view was obstructed by his back. As they waited to see what was coming down, she put a hand lightly on his back, bracing herself and could feel the tension between his shoulder blades.
Suddenly, Kili heaved a sharp breath and, just like that, the muscles in his back eased. Bilba blinked in surprise, and then shoved at his side until he moved enough to let her look past him. Then, sucking in a gasp of her own, she sheathed her sword, squeezed past him and darted forward.
Fili, dirty and dressed only in his trousers, paused and managed an exhausted smile just as she flung herself into his arms. Bilba just barely managed to note the puncture wound in his chest and avoid it as she wrapped both arms around his waist. Fili returned the embrace, one armed as his other hand clutched an ichor stained orc sword.
"Are you all right?" Fili asked, wearily.
Bilba pulled back to glare at him. "Am I all right? Are you serious? You got stabbed by a spider and dragged off by orcs and you're asking if I'm all right?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Well, are you?"
Bilba gave a scowl of disgust, mostly at herself but a little at him too. She heard the scrape of boots on stone and saw Kili trudging up to meet them.
"And then what happened, O Kili, hero of Middle Earth?" he grumbled as he came to a stop before them. "Oh, well then we all hugged it out in the middle of Mordor when orcs could come kill us at any moment."
"Oh, hush you," Bilba said, cutting off his tongue-in-cheek tirade, and grabbing him to drag him into the hug. Kili didn't resist and if his hug of his brother was a little more intense than warranted from someone who'd been convinced Fili was fine all along, well, she wasn't going to be the one to point it out.
"Are you all right?" he asked as he pulled back.
Fili nodded. "Fine," he said, ignoring Bilba's muttered 'oh, sure, you answer him.' "Annoyed," he added as an afterthought. "They took my armor and all my weapons." The way he spoke made it abundantly clear which loss he viewed as the worse one. Fili had a large collection of weapons that had undoubtedly taken years to gather, or make. Losing them had to sting.
"I'm sorry," Bilba said, with genuine feeling as she thought of how she'd feel losing something she cared about. A truly awful thought occurred to her and her eyes widened. "Please tell me one of them didn't belong to your father."
Fili looked startled. "I have a short sword that belonged to him. Kili has a dagger. We left them at home when we set out for Erebor."
"Amad probably transported them to the mountain with her," Kili added. "We didn't want to risk adding them to Smaug's hoard."
Bilba slumped in relief. "Thank Yavanna."
She realized both boys were staring at her as if she'd lost her mind and, with a slightly exasperated sigh, she proceeded to hug them both before making eye contact with each one in turn and saying, with determination, "I'm going to do better. I promise."
Fili looked confused. "Better at what?"
Bilba shook her head and started to answer, only to trail off as her eyes went past Fili. Just behind him, standing a few stairs up, was Lily. The little girl had started appearing almost constantly, just out of the corner of her vision at times, and nearly dominating her eyesight at others.
Adalgrim's newborn daughter was named Lily. Bilba had remembered and wondered if, perhaps, that explained her seeing the little girl everywhere. Guilt, maybe, or a concern for the little girl who was now doomed to grow up without a father? Maybe it was even some sort of offshoot of her worry for Thorin, and the fear her sons might be doomed to the same fate as Lily?
She didn't know but, whatever it was, it was certainly unnerving.
"Bilba?" Kili placed a hand on her shoulder and she jumped in surprise, eyes cutting to his. "Are you all right?"
Bilba looked past Fili again, and this time the stairs were empty. She forced a grin. "I'm fine." She lightly grabbed Fili's arm and tugged on him. "Let's see if we can find your clothes and weapons. If not, we can always see if the orc clothing will fit you."
"I'd rather go naked," Fili growled. He brushed past them and started down the stairs. Bilba watched him a second and then pushed Kili.
"Go talk to him." At his confused look she added, "You know about what."
Kili shook his head. "It's not the time."
Bilba rolled her eyes. "We're in Mordor, Kili. There may not be another time. Go talk, before the next thing shows up to try and kill us."
Kili hesitated, and then gave a sharp nod and jogged down the stairs to catch up with his brother. Bilba lagged, giving them as much privacy as possible. With a short exhale, she faced forward again and determined to focus on Fili and Kili, and her boys waiting for her back in the Shire.
She was going to do better, she decided firmly. For all their sakes.
Just ahead of her, Lily watched her from a broken stair the boys had just stepped over, a blank look in her eyes. Bilba tried her best to ignore the small apparition.
It was hard, but she did try.
