Chapter 4

The room was completely silent for a moment, then chaos broke loose. Thorin's steel sword was out in a flash, and he braced himself as the men closed in on him. He parried the first two strikes at the same time and used the momentum to step out of the way of a third.

From there, the rhythm of battle thrummed along with his heartbeat, clashes of steel and the hiss of shed blood harmonizing with his footsteps as he cut the men down one by one.

The man in red appeared in the fray, slashing at Thorin's chest. He dodged the blow and kicked hard at his leg, sending him to the floor. The crash of splintering wood sounded from behind, followed by a splitting pain on the back of his head. The force of the blow sent him crashing onto his hands and knees. He winced as the remnants of what must have been a chair before someone had smashed it over his skull rained to the floor. Staggered, he couldn't avoid the blow to his jaw from another man's foot.

Thorin braced the hand holding his sword against the ground, shaking stars from his vision. More blows connected with his body, and the man in red attempted another slash at his arm, though this one glanced off his vambrace.

He grit his teeth and tightened his grip on his sword. With his free hand, he grabbed the arm of the next fist aimed at his head, pulling the man down onto his blade. Pushing himself up from the blood-slicked floor, he pulled the sword out and, in the same motion, parried the dagger aimed at his shoulder.

Within the next minute, Thorin was the last one standing in the room. The rest were scattered about the floor, lying in their own blood—the two guards from before among them. The man in red, he noted, must have fled sometime during the fight, as his body was nowhere to be seen. Coward.

He was going to alert the others of his presence, meaning Thorin had little time left. There were two possible passages for him to take, and he did not know which one would lead him to Carter. No one in the room was able to give him that information, so he would have to improvise.

Hoping his enhanced instincts would not fail him, Thorin chose the right passage and proceeded cautiously, listening for any approaching footsteps. He'd walked away from one fight relatively unscathed, but he had no wish to take on the entire complex.

His confrontation in the previous room had hardly been quiet, though, and sure enough, a chorus of hurried footsteps sounded from farther down the darkened hallway. Thorin cursed under his breath and ducked into the nearest room, pressing himself against the wall. Snatches of conversation filtered through as a small group passed:

"—was that?"

"Check the storage rooms—"

"—Cleaver's boys, for sure."

He waited until they were gone, then stepped out and continued, nerves buzzing with anxiety. Getting into this trap had been fairly easy, but getting out was an entirely different matter. His thoughts strayed to Bilbo's earlier comment about going in after him, and he hoped the halfling had enough sense to keep himself safe.

The clatter of metal from an intersecting hall caught his attention. He peered down in that direction, but the corridor was empty—save for a slight movement on one of the walls. Someone was rattling a locked door.

Luck may have found him this time.

The door shook again, and whoever was behind it began pounding his fist on the wood. "Hello? Is anyone there? What's going on out there?"

Thorin walked up to the door, senses alert for anyone approaching them. "Captain Carter?"

"What is it? I heard someone say we're under attack."

He sighed. The man was speaking far too loudly for his comfort. "Lower your voice, and step back from the door."

A slight shuffle on the other side indicated the man had complied. Thorin lifted the lock and studied it. It was well-made, and the door was thick. Even with his strength, there was no way he could force it open.

Fortunately, witchers did not just rely on brute force.

Focusing his attention on the lock, he cast Aard with one hand. A small shockwave hit the metal and it broke with a sharp crack. Thorin opened the door, revealing a wide-eyed man standing against the back wall. From the bruises on his face and the dirt on his once-fine clothes, he guessed the captain had not been treated well.

"Come." Thorin beckoned for the man to leave his cell. "We don't have much time."

Carter stayed frozen, one hand absently clutching the buttons on his coat. "A witcher?"

"Your crew asked me to free you." He cast an anxious glance down the hallway. Escaping would be more difficult with the captain slowing him down, and he preferred to move as soon as possible. "We have to hurry. Follow me."

Without waiting for the man to move, Thorin turned and started down the hall. He was nearly at the corner when a lone set of hurried footsteps made him slow. A glance behind confirmed that Carter had left the cell, albeit hesitantly. There was no time to hide, and he could not risk discovery now.

Hoping the approaching man was the only one in the hallway, Thorin downed him with a swift kick to his legs and silenced his cry with his blade in one swift movement. He stepped forward and checked the hallway.

"This way," he said to Carter, and began making his way back to the entrance.

By some measure of luck, they encountered no more of them men on the way back to the entrance. Thorin assumed they had gone to check whatever store of valuables were hidden in the building.

They had already found the room full of men he had killed, however—the fresh footprints in the blood staining the floor was evidence enough of that fact. As they entered the room, Carter's footsteps faltered and a strangled noise sounded at the back of his throat.

"Y-You did this?"

'Yes," Thorin replied without looking back. Horror, contempt, awe—whatever Carter felt at this realization, it was of no relevance to him. They were nearly out of the place, and he wasn't about to stop now.

The hallway leading to the exit was empty as well, and there was no sound of anyone approaching from either direction. Thorin was just reaching for the door when it swung open, making him step back. His sword was up in an instant, and he only just halted its progress when he realized the neck he was aiming for was Bilbo's.

The halfling jumped back with a yelp, eyes wide, then relaxed a fraction when he realized it was Thorin. "You gave me quite a fright, there." His gaze lifted to the man standing behind him. "And you found the captain."

Thorin lowered his sword. "Things didn't go according to plan. We need to get out of here."

"I can see that." Bilbo's eyes flickered down to the blood staining his armor. "Let's go."

"People are staring at you."

"I know." Thorin had no doubt the red covering his arms and chest was not helping him blend in. "We'll be out of here soon."

Bilbo gave him a curious glance out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing. They hadn't yet discussed the issue of trust between them, or even if they would be working together. The word we had just slipped from his lips, and he wasn't sure whether or not to correct himself.

That was an issue for another time. Thorin threw a glance back at Carter, who was trailing them at a lengthy distance. They were nearly at the docks, and thankfully they had yet to run into another guard or one of Whoreson Junior's boys.

"So you-know-who is in Skellige?" Bilbo asked, thankfully keeping his voice down this time.

"I have reason to believe so, yes," Thorin replied. They stepped out onto the docks. The setting sun hung just above the horizon, casting a streak of bright gold across the water.

"Any idea why he'd be hiding out there?"

"The isles are numerous, and not many of them populated. It's a rather convenient place for a thief to stash his stolen goods."

Captain Carter's ship had come into sight, and they reached it without further incident. The sailors were still crowded on the deck, and they watched Thorin's approach with wary eyes.

"Well? Did you find him?" one of them asked, his gaze fixed on the bloodstains on his armor.

In lieu of an answer, Thorin turned towards the end of the docks, where Carter was making his way towards the ship. The men followed his gaze, and a chorus of relieved sighs sounded from the group.

"Thank you, witcher," one said, and Thorin nodded, watching Carter as he made his way onto his ship.

The captain's voice shot out in a hiss across the deck. "Which one of you hired a witcher?"

Thorin's expression darkened, and next to him, Bilbo shifted uneasily.

"Well, it was more of a group decision, really," said the sailor who had thanked him. "Seein' as we need to leave tomorrow."

"They would have let me go," Carter said. "We could have afforded a few days' delay. But you had to go and hire one of their kind, and we'll be lucky if Whoreson Junior's boys aren't swarming the docks by nightfall. What were you thinking, hiring a killer?"

"Those men attacked me, and I acted in self defense," Thorin said, stepping forward. He knew there was little chance now of the captain letting him on the ship, but he wouldn't let him hurl insults without speaking for himself. "I aided your men in hopes of gaining passage on this ship."

Carter's face twisted at this. "Your hopes were in vain. My men acted foolishly and recklessly. I'll not have a witcher on my ship."

"Now, just wait a second—" Bilbo stepped forward, but Thorin stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Go, before I call the guard."

Without another word, Thorin turned and escorted a stammering Bilbo off the ship.

Halfway down the docks, the halfling was still fuming. "Absolutely ridiculous. You saved his life. How could say—"

"They were going to let him go," Thorin said. "One of the men told me. But it wouldn't have made a difference." He had known, and would have even without his witcher's sense, that the captain would have never tolerated someone like him on the ship. A decade of experience had taught him to look for it in their eyes.

Bilbo shook his head. "There has to be another way."

"There's no point in reasoning with him. I'll have to wait for another ship." Thorin crossed his arms, looking out over the water. Mahal knew how long that would take. He turned back to Bilbo. "You should go home. There's no reason for you to wait here."

"Half a moment." He set his hands on his hips and frowned up at Thorin. "Just because you've given up doesn't mean I'm about to."

"I am not giving up," he said with a glare. "I know when a solution has become useless and it is necessary to look for another one."

"Now, that I agree with." Bilbo turned on his heel and began walking. "Come on, I want to find a good spot to watch the sunset."

Thorin hesitated, thrown off by the sudden change in subject. Perhaps the halfling had another idea in mind.

Knowing there was only one way to find out, he followed Bilbo down the street.

"It looks rather different on the water, doesn't it? You can see all the colors and the way the light reflects off the water." Bilbo rested his chin on his palm. "There's far too many trees where I live to get a proper view of the sunset."

They'd found a secluded area near the docks that had a clear view of the west. The only sound filling the air was the gentle lapping of water on the rocks below—as the day ended, most of the citizens of Novigrad were on their way home or to the nearest tavern.

"You've never been away from home before?" Thorin asked. With a scrap of cloth and some water from a nearby fountain, he was busy cleaning the blood from his armor.

"Not as far as Novigrad. I suppose I never saw a need for it, before now."

The city wasn't very far from Bilbo's home at all. It was a strange concept to Thorin, that someone could spend most of their life in one place. "Why did you decide to leave now?"

"I already told you—I'd like to get back what was stolen from me." He turned and noticed Thorin was still scrutinizing him. "But that answer doesn't satisfy you."

"You could have left immediately after you were robbed. You could have asked me to retrieve the object for you. Instead you've left your home and you're prepared to take a ship across the sea with a witcher."

He crossed his arms and shrugged. "Well. All good points." His gaze dropped to the water and became pensive. "I suppose all the monster attacks back home made me realize…there's so much more I could be doing with my life. I'm not going to let other people solve my problems anymore."

Courageous words, but foolish as well. The world was full of danger, and Thorin knew the halfling was ill-prepared for most of it.

Bilbo caught on to his doubt and cocked his head. "What?"

"You'd trade your safety for a chance at adventure?"

"That's a drastic way to phrase it." He tilted his head. "You still think I'd just slow you down?"

The sun drew low over the water, lengthening the shadows stretched across the city. "You've given me no reason to think otherwise."

"Then let me prove you wrong." Bilbo straightened up and began walking back towards the docks. "I'm getting us on that ship to Skellige tonight."

If anything, the halfling was going to get them arrested. Thorin scanned the docks with a scowl. Night had fallen over the city, but the area was hardly unoccupied. Guards were posted at intervals across the docks, on the lookout for thieves or vandals. It wasn't a difficult job—the whole space was highly exposed, and hardly conducive to sneaking about.

Bilbo was speaking with one of the guards, though he was too far away for Thorin to hear the exchange. Once they had reached the docks, the halfling had instructed for him to stay out of sight until he gave the signal to move in.

He had seemed confident enough giving instructions. Thorin watched him gesture animatedly as he spoke. What are you planning?

The halfling pointed back towards the city, and the guard tensed up, one hand going to his weapon. Thorin drew in a sharp breath. If the guard tried something, he would not be able to reach them in time.

He relaxed a moment later as the man nodded, then turned and set off down one of the side alleys. Bilbo turned towards Thorin and gave a short nod.

Warily, he moved across the docks towards the halfling. "What happened? Did you bribe him?" he asked as he drew close.

"No, of course not. Bribes only go so far." Bilbo bent down and picked up a sack. "I told him about some strange lights I'd seen over by the Bits, and that I thought it might have been someone casting magic. Hold this." He handed the sack to Thorin.

Suspected witchcraft was effective bait for any of the guards. He weighed the sack in his arms. Most likely it contained some sort of spice. "What is this for?"

"We're taking some last-minute supplies to the ship," Bilbo said. "Or, at least, that's what it will look like to him." He gestured with his chin towards another one of the guards standing farther down the docks.

Thorin lifted his gaze to the boat, its sails pale against the moonlight, and furrowed his brow. "You mean to sneak onto the ship."

"Well, yes," Bilbo said. "That'll get us to Skellige, won't it?"

His pride protested at the notion of creeping onto a ship and hiding aboard like a common stowaway. Durin's Folk did not hide. But they were on a time limit now, and it could be weeks before another vessel headed to Skellige arrived at these docks.

"Fine," Thorin said, hefting one of the sacks onto his shoulder. "Let's make this quick."

Smiling, Bilbo picked up his own package and they walked together towards the ship. Out of the corner of his eye, Thorin saw one of the guards glance at them, but thankfully made no move to investigate. They were more likely on the lookout for people stealing from the ships instead of bringing goods on board.

The floorboards creaked quietly as they crossed the deck and made for the door leading to the lower levels. Thorin tried the handle and cursed under his breath, finding it locked. He could easily blast the door open, but that would alert the crew to the fact that someone had broken in. The last thing they needed was to arouse suspicion.

"No worries." Bilbo stepped around him and studied the lock. He turned and handed his package to Thorin. "Hold this." He slipped a small pin from his pocket and set to work on the door.

Thorin sent a quick glance around the ship to ensure they were not being watched, then turned back to the Bilbo. "You know how to pick locks?" Such a skill hardly seemed part of the repertoire of a well-to-do halfling.

"I know how to do quite a few things that would surprise you," Bilbo said, attention still focused on the door. He gave a satisfied sigh as the lock gave a small click, and straightened up. "There you are."

Carrying both packages, Thorin pushed open the door and walked down to the cargo hold. The room was fairly large, with crates, sacks, and barrels stacked against the walls and in the center of the room, and a space in between to provide easy access to the majority of the goods. He set down the two sacks on one of the boxes and began searching the room for a hiding place.

"Back here." Bilbo beckoned him over and gestured to a space behind a large stack of boxes. "This could work."

Thorin paced in a semi-circle around the spot, gauging its visibility from the rest of the room. One would have to be leaning over the cargo to spot them, and he doubted any of the crew would be so attentive if they elected to come down here. "All right."

They situated themselves in the cramped space, which was a little smaller than he had expected. Their shoulders pressed together as they sat side by side. Thorin placed his swords against the wall, close enough to reach easily, but not so that they'd be in his way.

Bilbo sighed and shifted, trying to get comfortable. "I can already feel my legs getting stiff."

"Try and get some rest," Thorin said. "We'll have to be alert when the crew boards the ship."

"Right." He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall.

"Thank you," he added. Without Bilbo's help, they never would have made it onto the ship. Though he still had doubts about the halfling's ability in combat, it seemed he had underestimated him in other ways.

For better or worse, they were on the ship to Skellige together, and there was no turning back for either of them.

Bilbo did not open his eyes, but a small smile curved his lips. "Good night, Thorin."

What do you guys think of Thorin killing so many people in this fic? I think given his experiences the past ten years it's a fair development, but I realize it must be a little jarring considering canon Thorin has never displayed this tendency.

Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know what you thought in the comments!