Chapter 6

"This is incredible."

Bilbo stared with wide eyes as the ship approached the Kaer Trolde Harbor. The docks were nestled along with a few buildings at the foot of a group of towering black cliffs capped with snow. The setting sun cast an orange glow over the rock.

He pointed up to a massive structure atop one of the cliffs. "What is that?"

Thorin followed his gaze. "That is the Citadel of Kaer Trolde." The building was actually situated on an island off the mainland, with a high bridge connecting it to the cliffs across the narrow strait. "I've heard that from the highest tower, one can see the every island in Skellige."

Bilbo shot a hopeful smile in his direction. "Any chance we have some extra time before we have to go thief-hunting?"

"We didn't come here to see the islands. Tomorrow, we'll need an early start to find our quarry." He lifted his gaze to the fortress. "Besides, I believe we'd need an invitation from the Jarl to enter the citadel."

"All right." Bilbo shrugged it off. He turned back to the island and watched the small port town grow nearer.

Thorin looked down at the water. If things had been different, he would have tried to indulge Bilbo's wish to see the citadel. He would have liked to. But they had a mission on their hands and little time for anything else.

The ship finally docked, and the sailors immediately set to work so they could unload their goods. As the gangplank descended, Thorin and Bilbo made to exit the ship, halting only at the sound of the captain's voice.

"Witcher."

Thorin turned, impatience coloring his gaze as he nodded for the man to continue.

Carter scuffed one boot against the deck, his eyes roaming around the ship for a moment before he spoke. "You have my thanks, for saving my ship. But we'd best not cross paths again."

"We won't." With a slight incline of his head, Thorin turned and left.

"Interesting as that was, I'm glad to be back on solid ground again," Bilbo said, falling into stride next to him as they entered the town.

"Aye, that I can agree with," Thorin said. Besides being on land again, it was also a comfort to him to be surrounded by mountains—something of which Skellige had no shortage.

The townspeople paid them no attention as they walked through the street. That was another thing Thorin liked about the islands. The islanders he had encountered on the mainland were wilder, but also cared less when it came to differences in race.

They passed into a small square, which was bordered on one side by the tavern. Already, they could hear laughter and chatter coming from the hall that dominated one side of the building.

"Do you know what I'm thinking?" Bilbo asked.

Thorin turned to him. "Hm?"

"A hot meal, a mug of ale, and a real bed to sleep in." He counted off each on his fingers as he spoke.

"I fear you may have trouble with the last one. Skelligers are known for their rugged lifestyle. I've heard they sleep on nothing but rows of wooden slats. Sometimes they'll put a bed of straw down for comfort."

"What? Really?" Bilbo turned to look at him and, seeing the twitch at the corner of Thorin's mouth, let out a surprised laugh. "Oh, you're joking. I wasn't sure witchers had a sense of humor."

"It's a rare trait among us." Thorin opened the door to the tavern and stepped inside.

The hall, occupied by long tables laden with meat and ale, was filled with noise. Most of the patrons were engaged in lively conversation, and a few were already well on their way to getting drunk. A boar roasted on an open fire near the back of the room, filling the air with the pleasant smell of cooked meat.

It reminded him painfully of home.

Within a few minutes, they were seated at one of the tables with a mug of ale and a plate of food for each of them.

"So, where are we headed tomorrow?" Bilbo asked, humming appreciatively as he took a bite of the roast. "Are we going to one of the other islands?"

Thorin gave a subtle glance at their surroundings, but everyone nearby was absorbed in their own conversations. "I have reason to believe our thief is hiding in an an abandoned watchtower on one of the smaller islands."

"So, we go up there and...what? Take back what's ours?"

"Aye."

"Do you think there'll be a fight?"

"I'm counting on it." Phineas Ward would regret the day he'd deigned to steal from one of Durin's folk. Thorin had seen enough taken from him during his life, and would tolerate no more. Noticing the pondering look in Bilbo's eyes, he added, "And I expect you to stay out of the way when it comes to that."

"If it comes to that." He took a sip of his ale. "Some things, like giant sea monsters, can't be avoided, but I'll bet we could take our belongings back without them noticing we were even there."

Even if stealth had helped them in the past, it wasn't how Thorin preferred to work. To sneak about reeked of cowardice in most situations, and he was no coward. Dwarves had never won their battles through the use of spies and assassins.

Before he could express this, Bilbo's gaze lifted to something behind him, and Thorin sensed a person approaching. A smooth hand came to rest on his shoulder. "Are you looking for some company tonight, sir?"

He half-turned towards the owner of the voice. "No, thank you."

Thankfully, the woman did not press him. As she walked away, Bilbo's eyes followed her, then flickered back to Thorin.

His jaw tightened slightly. "Were you going to—"

"No!" Bilbo said a bit too loudly, then lowered his voice. "N-No, I wasn't...I mean, that's not the sort of…"

"There's no shame in it," Thorin said, though the thought of Bilbo looking at that woman, putting his hands on her, made something strained and unhappy wriggle through his gut.

"No," he said again. "I can't say I'm interested. At all."

His decisive tone dispelled Thorin's discomfort—though he wasn't sure why he would feel such a thing at all. What Bilbo chose to do in his free time was none of his concern.

Unbidden, his thoughts strayed to Bag End. Bilbo lived alone in his large house, though he certainly could not have been lacking interested halfling suitors. Perhaps there was another reason for his relative solitude. Perhaps what Bilbo meant to imply by his statement was that he was not interested in women at all.

As soon as the thought entered his mind, Thorin dismissed it. The halfling's preferences were of no concern to him.

After their meal they paid for a small room on the second floor of the establishment. They set their belongings down in silence, and despite his best efforts, the incident at dinner kept returning to his mind.

"I meant no offense, earlier," he said as he shed his armor.

"No offense was taken." Bilbo sat on the bed, one leg bent under the other. "It's been a while since I've been in a, uh, situation like that. Wasn't quite sure how to react."

Thorin sensed that he wasn't telling the whole truth, but decided not to press the topic. They both had their secrets, and neither was obligated to reveal them to the other. Though there was one thing he'd been wondering about.

"I've been meaning to ask you." He laid his swords within arm's reach and took a seat on the bed next to Bilbo. "Where did you learn to pick locks?"

A slight smirk twitched on his lips. "Oh, I've picked things up here and there. Just because I'm not a traveler doesn't mean all I know how to do is sweep floors and sew on buttons."

"Fair enough," Thorin said with a slight smile. "Though I can't imagine you've had much use for that skill up until now."

"Only when I accidentally lock myself out of the house," he said, making Thorin laugh. His eyes widened at the sound, but he did not comment on it. "I suppose I just like to learn new things. Though usually that just means reading whatever I can get my hands on. You've seen the state of my study."

"I'd thought a hurricane had swept through the room."

Now it was Bilbo's turn to laugh. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

"Aye, I've seen worse in a ransacked basement in White Orchard."

They talked late into the night. It had been long since Thorin had been able to speak so freely with another and let humor enter his conversations. It was that intangible something about Bilbo, along with his easy manner and quick wit, that had drawn him in so effortlessly.

When they finally turned in for the night, sleep claimed him easily. And as he drifted off, Thorin thought that perhaps he would not regret bringing the halfling along after all.

The shop smelled of salt and fish oil. The room was lit only by a couple of lanterns, as the sun had not risen above the mountains to the east yet.

Thorin approached the counter at the back, where the owner nodded to him sleepily. "I wish to buy a map of the islands here."

"Aye, I've got a few." The man stood and retrieved a box from one of the shelves and set it down on the table in the center of the room. Inside was a pile of worn paper maps. "Anything specific you're looking for?"

Thorin hesitated. He was still wary of trusting strangers with any information regarding his search for the thief. If any indication that he was headed for the watchtower fell into the wrong hands, he risked his quarry slipping through his fingers.

"Do you mind if we look through them?" Bilbo asked, saving them from future inquiry—though that might not have been Bilbo's sole motivation, Thorin noticed with a touch of amusement as he watched the halfling eagerly pull the first map from the box.

The shopkeeper nodded and left them to their search. Thorin took the next one from the stack and looked it over. It showed the landmarks of the isles, as well as a few of the major towns, but there was no sign of a watchtower.

"It's amazing," Bilbo said, tracing his finger over the map he was holding. "How many small islands there are."

"Stay focused," he replied in an undertone. "We're looking for an abandoned watchtower."

"Probably won't be on a recent map if it's abandoned," he whispered back. "I'll look at one of the older ones."

Thorin glanced over at the shopkeeper, but the man had busied himself with one of the shelves on the other side of the room.

"Something like this, perhaps?" Bilbo gestured to a circular outline on the map he was holding. "This is of one of the islands to the north."

"It's too close to the harbor town of that island. Wouldn't be a hideout if its in plain view of the common folk. Keep looking."

The merchant he had questioned might have been more specific in his information, Thorin mused as he sifted through the pile. The isles could have any number of abandoned watchtowers, and the maps here, even the ones of the individual islands, were not specific enough to definitively identify such a location. After a few more minutes, though, he found the most likely candidate.

"Here," he said, catching Bilbo's attention as he gestured to a map of Spikeroog, an island to the northwest. "There's a circular structure here near the southern coast. It's a good distance from the two villages on the island, and surrounded by mountains."

"You think that's it?"

"It's our best bet." Thorin paid for the map, thanked the owner, and left the shop.

Men were already busy at the docks. Fishermen prepared themselves for the day's work, traders and merchants moved about, and the crew of Captain Carter's ship was bringing new cargo aboard.

"Are we going to have to wait for another ship to take us to Spikeroog?" Bilbo asked, struggling to keep up with Thorin's longer strides as he made his way down the docks.

"No need." He nodded to one of the smaller boats floating at the end of the harbor. "We'll take one of these." As long as they stayed close to the coast, their journey to the other island would be safe enough. He paid the man watching over the vessels and selected the one he deemed most sturdy.

"This is, uh, small," Bilbo said, following him over to the boat. It was about six paces in length, and one and a half wide. Not the bulkiest of vessels, but it was cheap and would get them to Spikeroog faster than waiting for another ship. If there was one thing they could not afford to lose now, it was time.

"They'll serve our purpose well enough." He stopped and gestured with his chin for Bilbo to step in first.

With an uncertain grimace, Bilbo inched over to the edge of the docks and placed one foot inside the boat. The motion caused the vessel to tilt to one side, and the small mast nearly smacked Thorin in the head as it descended. Bilbo lost his balance with a yelp, and Thorin only just managed to catch him by the waist and help him upright.

"Put your weight on the center of the boat."

"R-Right." Bilbo corrected his footing, the tips of his pointy ears red. "I thought you said dwarves weren't seafarers?"

"No, but we do know the basics of keeping a boat from capsizing." Thorin released his hold and watched as Bilbo carefully made his way to the front and took a seat at the bow. Once he was settled, he prepared the sails and sat at the stern, where he would be able to steer the boat.

"So," Bilbo said as the wind carried them out of the harbor. "You're sure this thing is going to carry us all the way to the island?"

"This boat isn't meant for the open sea. But as long as we stay fairly close to land and the weather is in our favor, we'll make it to Spikeroog safely." While in the shop, he'd traced the route to their destination. They would have a few stretches on open water, but there were a couple of islands that would steady their course along the way.

Bilbo let out a nervous laugh. "Then let's hope there aren't any more storms on the horizon."

Hopefully their luck would hold in that regard as well. "You do know how to swim, don't you?"

"Hm. Well." His gaze focused on the slowly shrinking cliffs behind the boat. "Not exactly."

Thorin's hand stilled on the tiller. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I don't exactly live close to water, do I?"

"Technically, you live on an island."

"Well, it's a very large island, and I happen to live near the middle." Bilbo rested his hands on his knees. "I'm sure it'll be fine. Clear skies for now, at least."

Thorin frowned, his humorous mood from earlier evaporating. Once again, doubts filled his mind about bringing the halfling along. There hadn't been much of a choice on his part, as Bilbo had been the one to get them on the ship. His skills and shrewdness had been useful then, but as they entered the wild part of the world once more, he was reminded that the halfling had little idea how to survive on his own.

Perhaps the wisest thing to do was to leave Bilbo back at the harbor town, where he would have safe passage back home. He had no wish to see him come to harm, nor have him slow down his mission.

But something stayed his hand. The thief had slipped past him before, and the swords on his back would aid him little in tracking down someone who didn't want to be found. He was going to have to be smart about this, and in that he could certainly use Bilbo's help.

His thoughts turned again to the dangers of the open sea, the many monsters that lurked on the isles, and the numerous weapons thieves usually had on their person. There was no guarantee Thorin could defend himself and Bilbo from any of those things.

Back and forth he deliberated over the issue, though by nightfall it occurred to him that there was no point in debating with himself any longer. They were already a day's journey away from the harbor town, and turning back was no longer an option.

A glowing orange beacon guided them to land. The lighthouse was actually still part of the main island, but stood at the end of a narrow series of islets that curved northward to form a bay.

They made their way to a small rock outcropping set into the side of the hill. It would provide some shelter from the wind, which had begun to pick up as the sun set. Thorin had no wish to be thrown off course, especially in the dark.

He had dragged their boat onto the beach and weighed it down with stones to keep the tide from carrying it away. With luck, the waves would be calm tonight and give them no trouble.

Bilbo settled down with a sigh, propping himself up against the outcropping. "Do you think it's safe to start a fire?"

"I'd better take a look around first." Thorin stood. Camping near water at night meant drowners or water hags could be lurking nearby. "Stay here."

He walked along the shore for a good distance, then returned inland and circled the lighthouse. Nothing dangerous caught his attention, and whoever was manning the lighthouse was likely content to mind his business. Satisfied, he gathered some firewood and returned to their camp.

"All clear?" Bilbo asked as he approached. He was eyeing Thorin almost apprehensively, and it occurred to him that he'd left the issue from earlier unresolved, though he'd turned it over in his head quite thoroughly.

He set the firewood on the ground. "Do you know how to start a fire?"

"Well, yes. Though I've only ever done it in a fireplace."

"It's the same basic concept." Thorin gestured with his chin for Bilbo to set up the fire. "If you're going to be traveling in the wild, you should know how to do so properly."

"Well, I am more than happy to learn." He moved from his position against the rock and began arranging the firewood.

Thorin sat and watched him work, forearms resting on his knees. "Then you should learn how to swim as well."

"In that frigid water?" Bilbo spared a glance at the waves crashing along the beach.

"I suppose you'd like to learn in a hot spring? Or one of the bath houses of Novigrad?"

"That would be ideal, yes," he said with a small smile. "I'd certainly prefer it to risking being eaten by a giant squid." He sat back on his heels. "Do you have any flint?"

"No need." Thorin stretched out one hand and cast Igni. The wood burst into flames immediately.

"Oh, right." Bilbo sat back and made himself comfortable again. "I forgot witchers could use magic."

"Only the most basic kind. Nowhere near the level used by sorcerers." This world was far more populated with those that could manipulate the force known as magic to their will, something that had been reserved only for a handful of wizards back home.

He had put a great deal of faith in Gandalf by agreeing to travel across the barrier between worlds, and to allow his body to be changed in such a manner. The thought still nagged at him at times that some mistake would prevent him from returning. The very concept of multiple worlds was so vast and barely comprehensible, and it made him uneasy to rely on blind faith instead.

Bilbo stretched out onto his back, propping his head up with his hands. "It's been a long while since I've camped out under the stars like this."

Aye, it was more than a small challenge to rely on blind faith, Thorin mused as he glanced at the halfling.

"You've done it before?"

"I used to explore the lands around my home, back when I was very young. Couldn't do that sort of thing now, though. Things have grown dangerous to the south."

Thorin nodded. The lands south of Novigrad had been destroyed by several warring factions. During his travels he had seen much of the suffering of the people in that province, and how monsters swarmed over battlefields strewn with corpses. "Has it been dangerous for you, at all?"

"Not too much. There's been word of a couple of bands of outlaws passing through, but nothing to serious." Bilbo glanced at Thorin. "Have you fought in any battles?"

In an instant, memories of Azanulbizar flooded into his mind. The clash of steel and the stench of blood filled his senses for a moment, before the sounds of the quiet night air seeped back into his consciousness.

He had not participated directly in the wars of this world. It was the code of the witchers to remain neutral in conflicts, but more than that, Thorin recognized that this was not his fight. He understood little of the history behind these battles and knew it was not his place to interfere.

Thorin realized Bilbo was looking at him expectantly, and said, "I try to stick to killing monsters."

"I'm not sure which is worse, really," he replied, his tone growing subdued. "Facing down an army or a griffin."

"Monsters are predictable," Thorin said. "In a way, that makes them less dangerous than people."

"I suppose that's true. But monsters will never show you mercy, or kindness."

"Bilbo." His tone became grave, and the halfling sat up and turned to look at him. "The men we are about to face are neither merciful nor kind. I've had dealings with them before. They are dangerous. I will try to protect you the best I can, but I need to be sure that you'll be smart about this."

He nodded. "You can trust me."

Thorin held his gaze for a moment, and found the same sincerity that had been there all along. He sat back. That would have to be good enough for now.

A little bit of world building in this chapter. I hope none of it was confusing! Some of it comes into play later though, which is why I wanted to introduce it now.

I did my best to research boats for this chapter, but if there are any sailors reading this, let me know if I got anything wrong.

As always, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please take a moment to review, I'd really appreciate it!

(Sidenote: even if you don't play The Witcher, the soundtrack slaps and you should all listen to it.)