A/N: Hey folks~ Thank you for favoriting/following this fic! Thank you LostInASeaOfPeople, Friend Of A Fangirl, FanfirHydra, claire1663, KaiaRenkin, GM NASAI, Aidan, windlances, PaperbackHeart, doremishine itsuko and Guests for the reviews! They're very encouraging, and the best Christmas present I received ^^
A shout-out to my new Beta, windlances! -cheers- He's really awesome - humorous, friendly and really nice, and he's been helping me improve on this fic :) We'll be editing Chapters 1-10 till maybe Feb, so new chapters will be rare. Sorry folks :P
Once again, thank you for your patience and support! :')
Disclaimer: Nope the Hobbit Universe and its characters ain't mine.
Chapter 11
Time to scram, time to scram, Bilbo's mind chanted helpfully as he stumbled over stones, skulls and Yavanna-knows-what. There! There was a hint of light — barely visible, but for his keen eyes it was enough. He hastened his steps. The sounds of footsteps drew closer; Gollum was catching up to him.
"Wait, my Precious, wait!"
The light is getting brighter! Hurry, hurry!
He squeezed through a narrow gap, blinded for a moment by a strong ray of light. He heard the rustling of grass, and a small smile grazed his face. He had found the exit.
Oh, thank Yavanna.
The upperworld was so bright and colourful, unlike this goblin shithole. He allowed his eyes to adjust as he scanned the upperworld. Wait, what is that in the distance? He squinted — was that…he could recognise that axe embedded in the head any time - yes, yes! That was definitely Bifur! The dwarves, they made it, they made it! Somehow. No time to waste! He should be joining them now. The sound of footsteps reached his ears; instinctively, he turned.
"Thief! Lying hobbitses! A liar and a thief!" From behind a rock crawled Gollum, snarling desperately. Was that a glimmer of a tear in its eye? Great, now Bilbo felt like a big playtime bully.
"Return me my Precious, thief! My Precious!" it screamed.
Bilbo casted glance over his shoulder, at where the Company was resting. He had no time to entertain Gollum. Flashing a toothy smile at the creature, he cheerfully said, "Nope." Without waiting for a reply, he sprinted out of the cave, into the bright daylight, and towards Gandalf the Grey and his merry band of dwarf-warriors.
Gollum was many things, but it was not entirely a fool. It did not follow Bilbo, that would be suicidal; its howls of agony and fury, however, did. "Thief! Curse it and crush it, we hates it! We hates it forever!"
Bilbo reached the Company, panting lightly. He snuck behind behind a tree while the unobservant dwarves fussed over their weapons. Ryadher's right, I really need to exercise, he thought sourly as he rested against the tree trunk.
"Five, six, seven, eight...Bifur, Bofur...that's ten...Fili, Kili...that's twelve...and Bombur - that makes thirteen. Where's Bilbo? Where is our Hobbit?" Gandalf shouted over the din. There was a momentary silence, followed by a string of curses so foul, Gollum seemed clean and pristine in comparison.
"Curse the the halfling! Now he's lost?" Dwalin groaned.
"But where did you last see him?"
"I think I saw him slip away, when they first captured us," Nori said.
Gandalf's eyes widened. The dwarves cringed, waiting for Gandalf's outburst.
One heartbeat.
Two heartbeats.
"Huh," Gandalf muttered, "What is that snake up to?"
The jaws of half the Company dropped wide open. Bilbo sniggered. Oh, their expressions were so hilarious when...
Wait a minute. A snake? Did Gandalf just call him a snake? He, "Bilbo", was a proud Child of the Sky! How dare Gandalf! He was not, not, a preposterous wingless snake. What a horror.
"I'm not a snake," he protested indignantly as he stomped out from behind the tree, secretly very satisfied with the high-pitched yelps some of the dwarves emitted and the whispers of 'where did he come from?'
"I came up from a rabbit-hole. It's a special hobbit skill," Bilbo deadpanned. The dwarves looked highly confused, and Ori started nodding and jotting it down. Ah well, he'd deal with that later.
Gandalf was smiling smugly down at him. "So there you are!"
Bilbo glared up at Gandalf. "You — you doddering, salivating old man with creaky knees, I am not a snake!"
Gandalf raised an eyebrow at him. "You're slippery as one."
Bilbo glared at him and did not deign him a reply. Instead, he turned his attention to the dwarves, beamed, and patted Balin on the shoulder. "Thought I lost all of you."
"Bilbo, we thought we lost you! We had given you up!" Kili exclaimed in relief.
"How on earth did you get past the Goblins?" Fili wondered.
"How, indeed," Dwalin rumbled dangerously.
Bilbo shrugged. "I fell, and luckily, no goblins came after me. I was almost lost in some tunnels, trying to find my way out. Then, in my darkest moment—" he paused dramatically— "I smelt it."
"It?" The twins echoed.
Bilbo grinned. "Aye, it. I smelt…the familiar odour of dwarves." There was a pause. "It's really, really strong in a bad way, you know." He made a big show of pinching his nose and waving a hand in front of it, fixing a serious frown on his face.
Dead silence.
"You're not serious."
Bilbo looked as though someone had insulted his mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother all in one breath. "Of course I was! All I had to do was follow the odour — and tada! It led me right to you!"
The dwarves stared at him as though he had grown a pair of wings. Bilbo checked, just to be sure — nope, no accidental wings sprouted. Gandalf leaned on his staff and watched amusedly, as though his favourite play had just begun.
"Oin," Bofur said with a concerned expression, "we may need to check Mister Bilbo for head injuries."
Bilbo adopted a suitably affronted look. "I'm not injured, I'm telling the truth."
Kili sniffed his shirt. "We don't stink," he protested.
"Much," his brother added.
"As I said before, my nose is very sensitive," Bilbo said, "I can pick up scents of trolls, and goblins, and other dangerous things." He stared pointedly at Thorin, who had found a sudden interest in the sky.
"Aye, I remember," Fili said, equally solemnly, tapping the side of his nose, "Rabbit's nose. Very delicate."
Bilbo glared half-heartedly at Fili as the twins collapsed into uncontrollable laughter. The rest of the dwarves momentarily developed coughing fits.
"Master Burglar, if I may ask you a question." Thorin's tone was serious, subduing the light-hearted atmosphere. Bilbo cocked his head to one side and motioned the Prince to continue.
"I want to know — why did you come back?"
Bilbo groaned aloud. "You're still doubting me? Goodness, you have serious trust issues." When Thorin's face darkened, Bilbo hastily added, "Not that…all of it is your fault. Heh. Heh. Heh."
Bilbo's laughter trailed off awkwardly, amidst the staring dwarves. He sighed. "Look, maybe you still have doubts about me, but I don't even know why. Have I not reassured you that I'm not going to abandon all of you, and the quest, halfway through? No, never mind — don't answer that, I don't want to know. The point is, I signed a contract. I made a deal, I made a promise. Us hobbits don't go back on our promises. And, even without all of that, I would have followed you. Cause you don't have a home; it was taken from you. And everyone deserves a home. So I will help you take it back if I can."
The dwarves looked pensive after his mini-speech. Bofur gave him a thumbs up, and both Gandalf and Balin smiled encouragingly at him. He relaxed minutely.
And tensed.
The howling came a second later. The orcs were here.
The Company exchanged worried glances. "Out of the frying pan..." Thorin began.
"...and into the fire! Run, run!" Gandalf roared.
They ran.
The Company sprinted down the mountain. However, with no distractions, the wargs were gaining on them, snapping at their heels. One warg leapt at Bilbo; quick as lightning, he slipped out a dagger and threw it. It hit the creature's eye, and the warg fell right next to Bilbo, dead. He hastily retrieved his dagger as the rest of the dwarves dealt with the remaining orcs. Bilbo looked up, and felt his heart drop to his stomach.
They were cornered at the edge of a cliff. They were doomed.
"Up into the trees, all of you! Come on, climb!" Gandalf commanded. They clambered up the trees, anxiously waiting as more warg riders surrounded them. We're like sitting ducks, perfect prey for the wolves, Bilbo thought. He hated it, he hated it. He wanted to spread his wings and roar, to crush those orgs and show them who's boss. They should cower in his presence, not the other way around! He was a mighty Dragon, and they should all perish in his fire.
He was powerful. Every single one of his enemies should just die.
A heavy weight on his shoulder startled him from his thoughts. Bilbo looked up, staring into the worried eyes of the Wizard. "Bilbo, are you alright? You're growling — it's rare that you lose control," Gandalf whispered. With a start, Bilbo realised the deep-throated growl was from him. He glanced at the dwarves; no one seemed to have noticed. Thank goodness. Bilbo smiled weakly.
"I just... felt like destroying all of the orcs," his voice rasped. He frowned; he felt so weird. What if—
Oh, no.
A feeling of dread settled in his gut as he unconsciously reached for the ring in his cloak. "Gandalf, I may have — I need to talk to you later. It's important." Bilbo gripped the wizard's arm tightly.
The wizard glanced at the wargs snapping and growling at them from below.
"Later would be nice," the Wizard commented dryly.
The wargs ceased their growling and parted, making way for a White Warg. The White Warg was larger than the rest, with a menacing snarl and battle scars all over its body. On its back sat an orc, pale and white. Scars marred his face, and his left hand was missing. Bilbo remembered him from Thorin's description: Azog.
Thorin's face was pale, eyes wide in shock. "It cannot be," he muttered, "Azog?"
The White Warg growled at the dwarves as Azog stroked its fur. The orc eyed them as a predator eyed its cornered victim, and began speaking in Black Speech. "Do you smell it? The scent of fear? I remember your father reeked of it," he drawled, "Thorin, Son of Thrain."
Bilbo was unsure if Thorin actually understood Black Speech, but he looked stricken with pain and grief. "It cannot be."
Azog bared his teeth at the dwarves. Pointing to Thorin, he commanded, "That one is mine. Kill the others!"
Instantly, the wargs flung themselves at the trees. Jumping as high as they could, they scratched at the tree trunks and snapped at the branches. The trees shook violently, groaning and creaking, as the dwarves struggled to hold on. The wargs persisted; the first tree, no longer able to stand firm against the strain, was uprooted and fell towards the other trees. The tree tipped over and crashed into the tree next to it; the Company jumped onto the next tree just in time. The tree shuddered and tipped over.
Like dominoes, the trees began falling onto each other. The Company lunged from tree to tree, and with sheer luck, managed to make it to the last tree standing. It leaned towards the edge of the tree, but held firm. Bilbo could see the downwards drop of the cliff from between the sparse leaves of the tree. Unless all of them could magically fly, they were doomed.
Azog threw his head back and laughed gleefully, arrogance in his posture as he nudged his White Warg forward.
Desperately, Bilbo grabbed a pinecone and thrusted it at Gandalf. "Set it on fire!"
The wizard set the pinecone on fire and flung it at the wargs. With a discreet flick of Bilbo's hand, the fire flared as the pinecone landed. The wargs yelped in fear, retreating to avoid the sudden burst of flames. Some were too slow and their fur caught on fire; they began howling, convulsing as they tried to put out the flames on their backs.
Bilbo encouraged the fire to burn faster, and more; the fire on the wargs spread swiftly. The dwarves quickly caught on and began flinging more flaming pinecones at the wargs. Bilbo simply made the flames burn brighter. If the dwarves saw his fingers twitch as he coaxed the fire to burn, burn, burn, but not to the trees, they said nothing.
The shocked and furious expression on Azog's face almost made Bilbo laugh.
A ring of fire soon surrounded the trees. Almost all of the wargs had retreated; Azog was another matter altogether. The orc roared, and the dwarves cheered. The cheers, however, turned into screams of fear as the tree groaned and leaned precariously over the edge of the cliff. The Company struggled to hold onto the branches as the tree gave another jerk. Suddenly, Ori's hands slipped. Bilbo watched in horror as the young dwarf's eyes widened in fear, a strangled gasp escaping his lips as his hands scrambled to hold onto something. Hands flinging wildly, he managed to grab hold of Dori's leg before he fell.
"Ori!"
"Hold on tight!"
"Mister Gandalf!" Dori cried, hands slowly slipping from its grip under the extra weight.
Gandalf quickly swung his staff down just as Dori fell, enough time for Dori to cling onto it.
The Company breathed a small sigh of relief. Imminent death? Delayed. Thank Yavanna for small miracles.
Azog, who apparently disliked being ignored, growled. Thorin looked up with loathing in his eyes. As if in a trance, Thorin slowly pulled himself up and drew his sword. Eyes narrowed, shield held up, he charged across the burning ground at Azog with a battle cry. Azog sneered at him. With a roar, the orc launched his mount at Thorin. The warg swatted Thorin aside with a paw, as if Thorin was but a measly fly. Like a measly fly, the Prince was flung onto the ground. The dwarves looked on with horror.
His Royal Stubborness hefted himself onto his feet with a determined expression. But he was too slow. Azog was upon him before he could react, mace crushing his face. Once again, Thorin embraced the ground.
A wail cut through the air. "No!" Balin screamed.
Dwalin was stuck on the tree, unable to reach his Prince. The warg circled its prey, and chomped onto him. Thorin cried out in pain as the warg lifted him up in the air. With a last burst of energy, Thorin struck the warg with the pommel of his sword. Roaring, the warg flung him into the air. He rolled onto the floor and ended a few feet away, his sword rolling out of his hand, barely conscious.
Azog surveyed the injured Prince coldly. "Bring me his head," he ordered a warg rider. The orc slid off his warg and approached Thorin, sword in hand. Bilbo balanced precariously on the tree, reaching for his own weapons. That dwarf was not dying on his watch.
The orc approached Thorin until he was standing just before him. He raised his sword above his head, ready for the deadly strike.
And stopped.
The orc jerked suddenly. Stumbled back a few steps. Without warning, his sword clattered harmlessly next to Thorin as he emitted a gurgling, choking sound. From his neck sprouted a dagger. The orc's hands fumbled weakly against the dagger's handle for a few seconds before he fell onto the ground, dead.
Calmly, Bilbo jumped off the tree, landing beside Thorin. He effortlessly yanked his dagger out of the orc's throat, unsheathing another dagger with his free hand. He crouched in front of Thorin, daggers poised defensively. The dwarves looked at him in awe; Thorin fainted.
"If you want to kill the dwarves, you'll have to get through me first," Bilbo said. His tongue fumbled over the rarely used Black Speech as he grinned, feral. Azog looked at him appraisingly, taking in the forked tongue, slit pupils and sharp fangs. His lips pulled back into a smirk.
"I see you, Child of the Sky. Do the dwarves know a wyrm, their most hated enemy, travels with them?" he taunted, laughing.
Bilbo tightened his hold on his daggers. "I am no Servant of Mordor, Azog," he hissed.
The Orc scrutinised him amusedly, and smirked. "Not yet. It is a matter of time, wyrm. A dark aura surrounds you."
"I would never serve Sauron willingly."
Azog bared his teeth at him. "Willingly?" He chuckled darkly. "You foolish child. Your betrayal, willing or not, would rip your Prince apart. I almost want to spare his life just to see it happen."
Bilbo slashed one dagger threateningly. "Get lost. I won't let you hurt him."
His lips curled upwards. "How cute," he said mockingly, before addressing his minions. "Kill him."
The wargs and orcs leapt at him. Snarling, Bilbo tore them apart with daggers as substitute for claws and teeth. He slashed and danced among them, too nimble for the wargs' snapping jaws and too quick for the orcs' clumsy movements. Despite his current hobbit form, he was still a seasoned fighter, with decades of training and experience. No one underestimated a dragon and lived to tell the tale. They did not stand a chance.
Fili, Kili and Dwalin joined him as they attacked the horde of minions from all sides. Bilbo fought his way through to Azog. The White Warg tackled him; he sidestepped it and sank his dagger into its hind leg. It howled. Azog yanked out the dagger and threw it aside in disgust, face contorted with hatred as he swung his mace at Bilbo. He barely ducked in time. Heart thumping wildly, he considered his odds.
Can't reach him, his mace is lethal. I can throw my dagger at him, but he can block it. I can't kill him, that's for sure - not today. What should I do?
While his mind was racing for ideas, Azog shouted out a command to his warg. The White Warg leapt at him again, powerful jaws aimed for his throat. Bilbo tried to dodge but was still knocked to the ground. His cloak softened his fall. He tried to throw the Warg off, but the beast was at least twice his weight. The warg was heavy; it was suffocating him. He dug his claws into the warg's neck and tried to hold its maw away, legs kicking to get the warg off him. It struggled to reach his throat, growling and just not giving up. Drool slobbered onto his face; some entered his eyes. it stank, and it hurt. His vision blurred, and panic filled him.
Guess I have no choice.
Bilbo took in a deep breath. He gauged the general direction of the warg's face — and exhaled fire.
"No!" Azog roared. The warg screamed in pain and stumbled off Bilbo, half its face on fire. It soon disappeared from his line of vision. If it even survived, its eyesight would never be the same again.
Bilbo groaned and tried to get up. He blinked at its surroundings; the stupid drool got into his eyes and he could not see clearly. Where are the dwarves? Where is Thorin? Where are my daggers?
A boot kicked him in the stomach. He groaned. Another vicious kick was delivered
"How dare you," seethed Azog, momentarily blinded by his anger to kill Bilbo quickly and efficiently. He blinked at the sky; everywhere hurt. He needed to get away from Azog -
Flames. There were still flames around. Bilbo reached towards the flames near him, and grasped them. He flung them at Azog, fuelling the flames with his precious reserve of energy and magic.
The tiny ball of fire exploded in his face.
Although it did not deal much damage, it blinded Azog long enough for Bilbo to roll away from him.
Azog growled in frustration as he tried to see, a piercing eagle cry filling the sky. The Eagles are here, Bilbo thought in relief. Gentle claws gripped his shirt and tossed him onto a bed of warm feathers. Bilbo wiped away the last of the drool from his eyes to see the dwarves being rescued by the Eagles of Manwë. Wargs and orcs were tossed off the cliff, or crushed by the falling trees courtesy of the Eagles.
They soared through the sky, away from the orcs.
They were saved.
End of Chapter 11
Hope you guys enjoyed that! Fighting scenes are hard for me to write.
Constructive criticism and reviews are welcome :)
-littlesparrowkeet