Chapter Twenty-Eight

The Capture of the Captured

Weeks had passed, maybe even a month, since Frodo had last seen his mother. At least it felt like a month to Frodo. The days and nights seemed to merge together in the young Dwobbit's mind and in truth he didn't care. He just wanted his mother back.

He walked miserably beside Radin who was now his constant companion, something he knew his grandpapa and cousins weren't entirely happy about but they had learned to keep their mouths shut about their silly disapproval of his large friend after he refused to eat or speak until they allowed him to spend time with Radin.

He knew it was childish of him but he found it was easier to be with Radin than his family.

Being with his family reminded him keenly of who was missing, his most important family member of all, his mother. Being with Radin, while the pain of his mother lost was still there, it wasn't so obvious and painful. Radin helped him forget for a time that his mother was not with him and of the fact that he might just never see her again. That thought just made his chest hurt and made him want to cry like a little baby so he tried not to think about his mother and instead focused more on what Radin was trying to teach him with the little blade that he had lent him.

He was clumsy with it at first but he quickly got the hang of it. He was quick to learn his parries and blocks and he could disarm all who took an interest in his training. His only problem, his only true weakness was his feet.

He was quick on them, no problem there, but if he got too involved in his training, didn't think where he was putting them he quickly found himself with a face full of dirt.

"Stupid feet." He growled angrily as he glared miserably at his large feet that weren't quite so large as other hobbit lads' his age but larger than those of dwarves of a similar body structure to him.

"They are a bit of hindrance, aren't they lad." Hoggle said as he strode over to him as Frodo pulled himself to his feet.

"Yes." Frodo growled wincing as he took a step, trying to keep from yelping.

"Easy Laddie. I think you've burst another blister." Hoggle said as he coaxed Frodo to sit back down so that he check the state of his feet.

Normally one of his cousins would check them for him but as they weren't currently close by Frodo allowed for the dwarf to handle his feet even though his first instinct was to kick him. Hobbits – like dwarves with their beards – were very sensitive as to who touched their feet and they didn't just let anyone handle them.

"Aye, another blister has popped." Hoggle said and Frodo grimaced as he took in the sight of blood and pus running down the sole of his right foot.

"You'll need to get yerself some boots laddie." Hoggle said as he stripped the dirty bandages from Frodo's other foot and pulled some fresh bandages from his pocket.

"Mama was thinking of getting me some boots but I've never had blisters as bad as these before." Frodo grumbled, wincing as Hoggle rub some foul smelling ointment onto the bottom of his foot, stinging the blisters and cuts that were there.

"I can well believe you didn't, in that pretty green land of yours but out here in the wild," Hoggle shook his head, "when we get to Erebor you'll be given some boots." He said with a smile.

"Will I?" Frodo asked cautiously.

"Of course you will lad." Hoggle said gently, "you'll be taken care of in Erebor. They're better dwarves than we are." Hoggle smiled sadly as he moved on to tend Frodo's left foot.

"How do you know? They might be just as bad as Bovin and the others? Or worse!" Frodo whispered softly, fear creeping into his voice.

Hoggle gave him a sympathetic look.

"I doubt it laddie. They will treat you well and will probably go after Bovin to retrieve your mama, knowing them."

"Do you know them?" Frodo asked curiously.

"No, not personally." Hoggle shook his white head, "But I know enough about them from hearsay and the grapevine to know that King Thorin the second is an honourable dwarf who will not be pleased by what Bovin – and the rest of us – have done."

"My mama knows him." Frodo perked up with a grin.

"Hmmm?"

"King Thorin. My mama knows him. At least I think it's him she knows-knew. Thorin Oakenshield?"

"Aye, that's his name." Hoggle said with a nod of his head, while privately thinking that the hobbit lass had known the King very well if the whispered rumours about the little lad in front of him were to be believed. And well, while Hoggle had never been one to partake in rumours or believing the ones he heard without some kind of evidence, he was more than willing to lean towards believing this one, if only because the lad resemblance to the Durin King was unquestionable.

"Then he'll help. He'll help get mama back. He owes her so he has to. Uncle Kili told me that Thorin owes Mama his life several times over so he has to help. He has to!"

"Aye, lad." Hoggle said while his mind boggled at the idea that the lad knew the King's nephew without even understanding or knowing the relation shared between him and the King. "Dwarves take life debts very seriously. The king will have to fulfil his debt to your mother or the line of Durin will be cursed. And as the line has only just gotten over their last curse, I very much doubt the king will willing bring upon them another curse. He will rescue your mother, you'll see."

Frodo beamed in delight for a moment before it altered and he suddenly looked worried again.

"But-but Mama-mama thinks that he's behind this. That he asked Bovin to kidnap us. How can I ask someone who may have wanted us kidnapped to help Mama?"

"Lad… lad." Hoggle placed his hands upon the shoulders of the babbling lad who was starting to work himself into a panic. "The Durin King wasn't behind this. He knows nothing of this. Do not think ill of him when he has done no known wrong to you."

"All-alright." Frodo mumbled with a small nod.

"C'mon, up we get. Your family is probably worried about you." Hoggle carefully lifted the boy on to his feet, watching his face closely as he grimaced as he put pressure upon the raw soles of his feet.

Wincing Frodo limped back to where his Grandfather and cousins were sitting by the fire. They fussed over him, scolding him half-heartedly about his desire to learn how to fight, especially from the people who had taken them from their homes in the first place.

Frodo curled up by Paladin's side and closed his eyes, allowing for sleep to take over his tired mind.

He dreamed of a huge dark mountain standing alone in a plain, a huge lake in the distance and beyond that dark forest.

He knew what this mountain was called now while as a toddler he had not. Erebor, the Lonely Mountain, the destination for this journey. He dreamed of dwarves digging for gold and gems far beneath the great roots of the mountain. He dreamed of a stone that's beauty outshone all other jewels. He dreamed of his mother holding the very stone in her hands as she stood in front of elves and men, her eyes desperate and her lips moving, speaking frantic words that he could not hear. He dreamed of her being shaken by a large and majestic dwarf, whose fury was far more terrifying than the dragon that had once inhabited Erebor before he was shot down by Bard, the bowman.

Frodo wanted to cry out for the large, dark haired dwarf to leave his mother alone, that she had been only trying to help, to save them from the danger they were in, the danger that he had in inadvertently put them in.

But before he could get the words out, his dream changed to dreams more suited to a child his age and he was able to sleep without disturbance for the rest of the night.

Frodo woke with a strange prickling sensation running through his body. It was similar to the feelings he had felt back home in the Shire but less dangerous, less frightening. Something was coming, nothing that he should fear but simply something that he should simply be aware of.

"You alright Frodo?" Saradoc asked as he ruffled Frodo's black curls as they got ready for the day's march.

"Hmmm? Ah, yes Uncle Saradoc. I'm fine." He smiled up at his uncle before wandering over to where Radin was pulling on his pack.

"Hello there. How's your feet?" Radin asked as he swung his back up and onto his back.

Frodo shrugged his shoulders. His feet ached but after so many weeks of them aching he was growing used to the pain.

"Hoggle says that we'll be able to probably see the Lonely Mountain tonight when we reach our next campsite." Radin said as they started walking, matching his long legged stride to Frodo's short ones.

"Really?"

"Uh huh." Frodo grinned at the thought though it did stir strange and complicated feelings within his gut.

They marched for about an hour before Frodo's poor feet pained him too much to walk. Without a word of complaint Radin swung him up and onto his shoulders, saying cheerfully that Frodo had the job of group lookout which of course was very important job as it was his task to warn the group if they were about to be attacked from any direction and to identify exactly what it was that was about to attack the group.

Frodo took the job very seriously, only… it was rather boring when most of the time all you were looking at were Mountains on your west side, forest on your east, more mountains ranges in front of you and same went for behind you.

It was an important job but boring one and his curious mind tended to wander away from his task whenever he saw a hare running through the grass or a hawk over head – which he always imagined to be a great eagle from his mama's adventure. He didn't mean to lose interest in his task and for his mind to wander or be distracted, it just sort of happened.

But he did let out a startled squeal before the strange dwarves jumped them if that counted for anything.

The attack was sudden and out of nowhere. One moment they were marching along happily and the next they had dwarves dressed in impressive armour surrounding them with sharp swords and axes.

In one movement Radin had swung Frodo from his shoulders, pushed him behind him as he heft his great hammer into a defensive position.

"Stand down." One of the armoured dwarves growled,

"And why should we? We have done no wrong? You are the ones who attacked us!" Divil, the dwarf who was missing his right eye cried though Frodo could see that he was sweating heavily from beneath his heavy black beard

"We have information that you are in league with the traitor Bovin. We are to bring you before King Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain and Lord Dain of the Iron Hills to meet their fair judgement."

"Can you see Bovin anywhere here? You are accusing us of association with a traitor when you have no proof!" Divil snapped.

"So you are all just taking a leisurely trip through uninhabited and dangerous mountains, far away from any main roads, far from any eyes, simply because…" The armoured dwarf, Frodo was guessing he was a captain of some kind. His red beard glinted in the dull afternoon light from beneath his iron helmet.

"We're lost sir." Divil said, sounding sincerely sheepish, "we became lost during a great storm and we turned off the main roads somewhere in the mountains. For the last week or so we've been trying to find our way."

"And where does your way lead?" the captain asked. Frodo could see that he didn't believe a word of what Divil was saying but seemed to be content to play along.

Divil hesitated for a moment, glancing at his fellow dwarves before muttering the word Erebor. The captain smiled a thin smile.

"Well then friend, you are in luck for we ourselves are heading back for Erebor right this very moment, we can escort you there."

Divil's face lost all colour beneath his beard while others in the company muttered uneasily.

"Oh wonderful, more dwarves!" Frodo glanced over to where his least favourite cousin was standing, glaring furiously at the newcomers.

"Who are you?" The captain asked as he looked over Lotho and the three other hobbits sharply, "or more importantly what are you?"

"They're Halflings, of no importance sir." Divil started to but was interrupted by the angry cries of Frodo's three cousins.

"No importance! No importance!" Three hobbits were crying as one, "You force us to leave our homes, to travel over treacherous lands and mountains, give us little to no food and you say we have little importance! Let us go and return us to our homeland then!"

"Don't forget about Mama!" Frodo yelled over his cousins' cries. Adding his own two penny's as his grandfather would say if he was in a better state of mind.

"Yes," Saradoc cried, his hands placed on his hips and scowled furiously at all the dwarves present, "Not only have you stolen us from our home, you have harmed one of our kin and have forcibly separated her from her son and family."

"Is that so?" The captain said softly as he looked from Frodo's cousins and grandfather to Frodo himself, his brows raising as he looked Frodo up and down.

"Yes, it is." Paladin exclaimed hotly, "And we demanded for things to be set right this instance."

"I don't know about being able to set things right this very moment, little ones." The captain said carefully, almost gently, "I fear that might be beyond my power at this very moment, but if you will allow, we will take you to Erebor and you will be able to speak you case to the King."

"Will he rescue my Mama?" Frodo cried and the captain was once more glancing at him with a curious, almost suspicious expression on his face.

"Who is your Amam, mim ze?"

"Billanna Baggins. My name is Frodo." Frodo said as he stepped around Radin who mumbled unhappily and shadowed Frodo as he moved to stand in front of the captain.

"Baggins?" The captain's bushy red eyebrows forwarded, clearly trying to place a name that he had heard before in passing.

"You've probably heard her being called Bilbo, that's her nickname." Frodo explained quickly.

"The Arkenstone thief?" The captain cried out in shock and Frodo jumped back into Radin's legs, who laid a protective arm around him.

"She was a burglar, yes." Frodo squeaked, ignoring the puzzled looks his family was shotting him. He knew that his mama had never fully explained her role within the company of Thorin Oakenshield.

The captain leaned forward and peered into Frodo's face closely.

"Seems she burgled more than just our greatest treasure." The captain muttered and Frodo felt Radin's arm tighten around his chest.

The captain lifted his head to stare up at Radin wearing an unreadable expression on his face.

"What is your name, boy?"

"Radin, sir. Radin son of Runira."

"And your father's name, boy?"

Radin hesitated.

"Don't see why that's important sir. I gave you my mother's name, is that not good enough?"

"No." The captain said bluntly, "your father's name boy?"

Radin sighed heavily.

"Williem, sir. My father's name was Williem." Radin mumbled.

"Human name."

"Yes, sir."

The captain nodded thoughtfully.

"Protective of the lad here, aren't you?"

"Yes sir."

"Won't let any harm befall him, will you?"

"I'll protect him with my life, sir."

The captain nodded again before striding to the front of the company, his face stern.

"I am Aivion son of Aiviel. I am a Captain of the Royal Guard, sent by King Thorin Oakenshield, to find Bovin son of Brovin and bring him to face justice in Erebor. Even though, as you previously said, I have no proof that you are in league with the traitor, the Halflings have spoken of other laws you have broken and so we will still be bringing you stand before the king."

The dwarves around Frodo swallowed heavily but none raised a word of protest as the armoured dwarves – soldiers, that was the word for them – forced them to march two by two with a soldier marching on either side of the line.

"Radin!" Radin and Frodo jumped as they both looked towards Aivion who stood at the front of the line, "Lad, bring the Halflings to the front. You got the little one? Good." Radin hesitated a moment but quickly had Frodo on his shoulders once more while he herded the rest of the hobbits to the front of the line. They moved there with little protest, even the bloody Lotho was keeping his mouth shut for once.

Once Aivion was satisfied with the line up, he barked out the order for them to march. They moved a lot more loudly than they had before due to all the armour the dwarf soldiers wore, but Frodo couldn't help but admire how the sun glinted and shone off the helmets and breast plates that the dwarves wore.

They were taking him to Erebor! He knew that the dwarves had been planning on taking him to Erebor but these dwarf soldiers were going to take him to the KING! The King under the Mountain! He could help Mama, he had to, he….

The Arkenstone thief…. What did that mean? Aivion had said it as if it were a bad thing, so-so maybe…

A cold feeling start curling around his gut. If Aivion thought his mother bad then what did the King under the Mountain think? Would he help him find her? Or would he decide not to because she was an Arkenstone thief? Whatever that was. No wait… he closed his eyes as he heard his mother's soft voice singing his lullaby.

`Till this day our hearts have yearned

Her fate unknown the Arkenstone

What was stolen must be returned.'

As his mother's voice sang within his head, he saw a globe with a thousand facets; it shone like silver in the firelight, like water in the burning sun, like snow under stars, like rain upon the moon. These descriptions were spoken in his mind by a voice that Frodo had never heard before, but was as familiar to him as his mother's or grandfather's voices were. He realised that he had dreamed of this pretty stone before, of his mother holding it even.

Had his mother really stolen it from the King? Why would she? Hadn't she and the King under the Mountain been friends?

Frodo's head hurt from his thoughts. He wanted his mama, with her arms around him, telling him stories or singing to him. He wanted them home, safe and sound.

He laid his head down upon the top of Radin's head and sniff, tears trickling down his cheeks. He brushed his tears away from his cheeks impatiently but he left his head laid upon Radin's head and once more closed his eyes and tried to sleep, despite his pounding head.

He was asleep in moments.

Author's Note: So Frodo and everyone have finally been caught by Thorin/Dain's dwarves. YAY!
Next chapter guess what... Frodo will be in Erebor. Jump up and clap hands with glee!