Chapter 7

The weather was favorable enough to speed them along to their destination. Under mostly clear skies, the wind filled out the sail of their small boat and ruffled the waters of the sea.

Bilbo turned in his seat to stare at the approaching structure on the horizon. "Is that it?"

Thorin spread out the map on his knee and consulted it. "Not quite. That is one of the minor islands, with what looks like a fortress on the south side." He looked up. "It means we're nearly halfway there."

He sighed and turned back around. "Only halfway?"

"Sea travel takes time." Thorin tucked the map back into his coat. "We can hardly ride upon airborne mounts in the sky like the Wild Hunt."

"Something tells me that would be a very windy trip," Bilbo said with a glance up at the rapidly moving clouds above. "Well, I suppose this is better than staring at the wall of a cargo hold all day."

"I'll not argue with that," Thorin said with a slight smile.

Bilbo looked at him, eyebrows raised, and a strange expression came over his face.

"What is it?"

"Hm? Nothing." He averted his gaze to the side, watching a couple gulls dip down to skim across the water.

Fondness. That was the most accurately he could identify what he sensed from the halfling. Thorin was not too well-versed in identifying positive intentions from others, as it rarely came in handy in his line of work.

But the sentiment alone, or anything close to it, caused warmth to spread through his chest. He felt something similar for Bilbo, despite the short time in which they'd known each other. And even though he longed to return to his home world, he was not looking forward to the moment in which they would part.

Bilbo noticed that Thorin was staring before he himself did, and smiled teasingly. "What is it with you?"

He cleared his throat. Showing affection was not one of his strengths, and he thought it best not to make an attempt. "Do you know how to fish?"

"Fish?" Bilbo blinked at his evasion, but made no mention of it. "No. But I'd quite like to try."

"That's another skill that may be useful to you." Thorin sat back. He was no expert when it came to fishing, but it was effective enough as a change of topic.

They spoke of it for a little while. Bilbo turned around once more as the island fortress drew nearer. The building had clearly been built for a grand purpose, with its wide stone walls and tall towers. They passed the island at a distance, but even from there they could see crumbling holes in the fortress and the ivy and trees that had encroached upon the stone.

"What a waste," Thorin said. "Men build myriad fortresses and castles, and let them fall to ruin at a whim."

"Why do you suppose it was abandoned?" Bilbo asked, sitting up straighter to get a better look at the structure.

"Could be any number of reasons. This is a small island, so perhaps it was too out of the way to be of any use. Though in that case they should not have built it at all."

"Shame it didn't work out, though I see no harm in it. It'll make a nice shelter for the gulls, anyhow."

"Dwarves do not treat such matters so lightly." Thorin steered the boat away from a rock jutting out of the water ahead. "The time and resources dedicated to building a fortress or a town square or a smithy are of great value. Nothing should ever be built at the risk of failure."

Bilbo's gaze shot down to the water, and he braced one hand on the side of the boat to get a better look. "Did you see that? Beneath the water."

"What did you see?" Thorin asked, then tensed up as he sensed something moving beneath the surface.

"I-It looked like a person, but…" He leaned over the side and squinted at the water. "You wouldn't happen to know if mermaids are real, would you?"

A glimmer appeared beneath the surface, and the water rippled. Bilbo backed up as a figure rose from the sea. He stared with wide eyes as a woman shook out her golden hair and leaned both arms against the side of the boat.

"Don't move." Slowly, Thorin began to reach for his weapon.

In the next moment, her face contorted. Her hair turned black and fell into her face in shriveled strings. Fangs elongated from a jaw lined with raw, red skin. The rest of her body emerged from the water, revealing two shimmering wings and a long tail with a nasty-looking barb on the end.

"Get down!" Thorin said, moving in the same breath across the boat. His silver sword was out in a flash and pierced the monster's chest before it could move.

Bilbo ducked down against the side of the boat, breathing hard. "What was that?"

"A siren." Thorin looked around and cursed. More of them were slithering through the water, and some had taken flight and were coming at them from the air. At sea, they were in the sirens' territory, and far too exposed in the tiny boat. Alone, he wouldn't have been so concerned, but now he had the halfling to look after as well.

A siren leapt from the water, claws outstretched. Thorin lodged his sword in the monster's shoulder, eliciting a high-pitched shriek that made both of them flinch. He twisted his blade and sliced to the side, cutting an artery and sending a spray of blood over his armor. He kicked the siren off the boat and it sank lifelessly beneath the surface of the water.

Two more were trying to climb up the other side of the boat, and he spun and cut off both of their heads in one fluid motion. He ducked under the sail and stabbed another one as it attacked.

Despite his best efforts, the sirens were swarming the boat. It was in numbers that they were deadliest. One of the sirens came at him, claws slashing at his face. He slammed its head against the mast and cut the stunned beast down.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the airborne sirens fall, something lodged in its chest that glinted in the sunlight as it fell. He killed another siren and turned around.

Bilbo, still crouched near the side of the boat, was reaching for another one of the knives at his belt with one shaking hand. Thorin watched as he threw it and landed a hit on another siren with remarkable precision.

That one moment was all the time he had before another siren attacked. He returned to the fight, sword singing through the air until the water trailing behind their boat was clouded with red.

And just as quickly as it had begun, it was over. Thorin made his way over to Bilbo and pulled him up by the shoulders, checking him over for injuries. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

"N-No, I'm fine, believe it or not," he said, breathing hard. He lifted his gaze and reached up with one hand to cup Thorin's cheek. "You've got a scratch right there."

"It'll heal." Thorin could feel Bilbo's body shaking beneath his grip, though the hand on his face was steady and warm.

"Right." He looked him over for a moment longer, then they dropped their hands from each other.

"I wasn't expecting you to join the fight." Thorin went to retrieve his sword so he could clean it. Bilbo's aim with the knives had been more than a little surprising—the first he might have considered a lucky shot, but he'd struck down two in a row.

"Well, I figured I would help a little." From Bilbo's tone, it was clear the halfling was quite proud of himself.

Thorin took out a cloth and settled down at the stern with his sword resting on one knee. "You should have stayed out of it."

"I killed two of those things. Aren't you impressed?"

"Not very. You made a grave mistake while you were fighting."

"I did?" Bilbo drew back, deflating a little.

"Your knives are on their way to the bottom of the sea, and you have no way to retrieve them, which leaves you unarmed."

"Ah." His ears reddened. "Yes, I suppose I didn't think that far ahead." He pulled aside his coat. "I've still got one left, though."

Thorin sighed and shook his head. That was better than nothing, at the very least. "Where did you learn to throw knives, anyway?"

"Well, you're not the only experienced fighter I've met." Bilbo made himself more comfortable on the seat. "I met a...warrior, I suppose I would call him, a few years ago. He sought shelter in my house, and in return he taught me a couple of tricks. One of them was knife throwing."

As Bilbo spoke, Thorin felt a scowl grow on his face, though he quickly pushed it back into a neutral expression. He wasn't sure why he would feel displeased at such a story, only that he was. "And what happened to this warrior?"

"He went on his way after a few days, and I never saw him again."

Nothing in his manner seemed to suggest that he cared about this man in any way, and this thought eased some of the tension in his shoulders. All things considered, he was glad Bilbo had learned something that would be useful to the both of them.

"You certainly are full of surprises, Master Baggins," Thorin said, settling his arm on the tiller. "You did well."

And at this, Bilbo beamed.

They spent the night sailing, since there was no place to make camp. As the sun began to descend the following day, they finally reached Spikeroog. They landed next to a small wooded area, away from both the towns and the watchtower. Thorin did not want anyone to know they were coming.

Bilbo leapt out of the boat and onto the sand, stretching exaggeratedly. He had been none too happy about sleeping on the boat the previous night, since apparently such uncomfortable wood surfaces were prone to giving one aches in the neck and back.

Thorin climbed out as well so he could push the boat onto the shore. Cold seawater swirled around his legs and soaked his boots. It had hardly been comfortable for him either, sitting up all night and making sure they didn't fall off course or run into any stray rocks—but they'd not come on this journey in search of feather beds and warm hearths.

"We'll camp here for the night. Tomorrow, we'll get an early start and search for the watchtower." One hand came to rest on the map where it rested in his coat. He was one step closer to finding his way back home.

"All right." Bilbo put his hands on the prow and helped bring the boat ashore, though it was Thorin who did most of the work.

After they hid the vessel next to a cluster of rocks, they headed into the woods to make camp. The sun was not yet setting, though soon it would be behind the mountains to the west that bisected the island.

"Fire," Thorin said. Bilbo nodded and began searching for wood they could use. As the halfling busied himself, he searched the trees for a couple of branches that would serve the purpose he had in mind.

After a few minutes, he had a couple of sturdy, mostly straight branches in hand and set to whittling off the bark with his knife while Bilbo worked on the fire.

"What are you doing?"

"I figured you could use some practice with other kinds of weaponry," Thorin replied, not looking up from his work. "These will serve well enough as practice swords."

"Oh." Bilbo appraised the two branches with more interest, mixed in with a bit of apprehension.

"We should start now, while we still have some daylight." He tossed Bilbo one of the branches, and suppressed a shake of the head as the halfling fumbled with it.

"All right," he said, once he'd gotten a good grip on the sword, and stood up. "How do I hold it? Like this?"

"Grip it with your first three fingers. Use the other two to stop your swing." Thorin gripped his own branch and held it out to demonstrate. "Now, hit me."

"H-Hit you?" Bilbo took care to correct his grip. "Shouldn't you teach me, I don't know, the proper way to stand? Or how to swing a sword?"

"You won't need to know how to stand, because any warrior with a grain of sense won't stop moving long enough to be standing." Thorin raised an eyebrow. "And something tells me you already know how to swing a sword."

"Fair enough." He stood up a bit straighter and placed his free hand over the one holding the branch.

"Just one hand. You're not wielding a broadsword, and I doubt you ever will."

Bilbo corrected his hold once more and eyed his opponent. Thorin was standing in a rather relaxed position, arms at his sides and sword pointing towards the ground. With his enhanced speed, such a deceptive position had proved an advantage more than once. Inching forward, the halfling raised his sword and struck at him.

He yelped half a second later as Thorin's branch crashed into his own, sending it whirling into the brush.

"Keep your grip on your weapon. Never let it fall from your hand."

"Good advice, I suppose," Bilbo grumbled, going to retrieve his sword.

When he returned, Thorin said, "Move closer before you strike. Your goal is to hit me without hitting my weapon first. Again."

Bilbo aimed his swing differently this time, so their swords scraped against each other instead of colliding head-on. He took a step back, then seemed to remember himself and lunged forward, jabbing his weapon towards Thorin's abdomen.

He dodged the strike and grabbed Bilbo's wrist, pulling him in the direction of his thrust and sending him sprawling.

"Better," he said, though that was a given considering his abysmal first attempt. "Don't put so much energy into your movements. I'm bigger than you, and I'll tire faster. You should save your strength."

Bilbo pushed himself up and brushed off his trousers. "This isn't a very fair fight, is it? What with you being so much bigger and stronger."

"I'd imagine most opponents you face will be bigger and stronger than you. Use your speed to your advantage. Dodge my strikes and look for openings I create." He raised his branch. "Again."

They continued until the forest had grown almost entirely dark. Bilbo wasn't very happy about being thrown in the dirt again and again, but to coddle the halfling would only put him in more danger. If he wasn't going to take the dangers of this world seriously, then perhaps their training would instill in him the idea that he was more vulnerable than he thought.

Thorin stepped around Bilbo's thrust and swept a leg out, knocking his feet out from under him. He hit the ground and groaned. Then he picked up his sword and tapped it against Thorin's calf. "Got you," he said with a weak smile.

"Aim for the knee next time," he said, though he couldn't prevent a matching smile from forming on his lips.

He extended a hand. Bilbo grasped it and let Thorin pull him to his feet, his palm hot and sweaty against Thorin's own. He stumbled forward, trying to catch his breath, and nearly closed the distance between them entirely. Thorin held him close for a moment, his heartbeat picking up its pace.

"That's enough for today." He released Bilbo's hand and walked over to the pile of wood the halfling had arranged earlier. With a gesture, he ignited it.

Bilbo collapsed against a tree with a sigh, resting his sword across his legs. "I don't think I've ever been this sore in my life. Well, perhaps except for the time I rolled down Cotton Hill in a barrel."

Thorin grinned and took a seat next to the fire. "Is this another one of your childhood escapades?"

"Something like that." Bilbo related the story as they ate a small meal from the provisions in their packs. Among his other skills, the halfling was quite a good storyteller, and Thorin laughed more than once as he recounted the mischief he'd participated in when he was younger. No doubt Fíli and Kíli would have enjoyed the tale tremendously.

He missed them, as well as his sister and the rest of his kin, and the feeling had only intensified over the past ten years. Often, he wondered what they would think when he returned, irreversibly changed and with ten years in a strange world behind him. It was a worry that would have to wait in the back of his mind for now—first, he had to focus on getting home.

Bilbo turned his practice sword and balanced one end on the ground. "If this were a little longer, I believe it would make a good walking stick."

"Why would you need a walking stick?" Thorin asked, using the end of his own makeshift sword to tend to their fire. "Have you a lame leg that I've yet to hear about?"

"No, nothing like that," he said, smiling at his teasing. "I suppose whenever I pictured myself setting out on a grand adventure to distant lands, I always imagined I'd have a walking stick with me. It just seemed to fit the picture."

"And in this picture, were you also stooped over with gray hair and a need for a staff to keep you upright?"

"No, but I think I shall get some gray hairs soon if you continue on making fun of me like that." Bilbo crossed his arms and leaned back against the tree, letting his branch tip over.

"I'll stop, then. It would do me no good to have a rapidly aging companion with me on this mission."

"Then you'd really have something to gripe about." He raised his eyebrows at Thorin.

He smiled and shook his head, knowing Bilbo was just trying to get a rise out of him. "Get some rest. We're starting early tomorrow."

Even so, the fire had almost died down to nothing by the time either of them stopped talking and deigned to get some sleep.

A light rain from cloudy skies ensured the light of dawn was slow to come the next morning. Thorin sat against a tree that protected him from most of the gentle droplets, his attention focused on the branch in his hands.

Across the clearing, Bilbo was curled up in another relatively dry patch. He'd insisted that he take first watch since Thorin had not gotten any sleep the night prior, having stayed awake to steer the boat.

For most of the early hours of the morning, Thorin had been cycling through restless worries as his thoughts turned once more towards his kin. There was no doubt he had acted recklessly, leaving for another world without directly consulting them. But Gandalf had explained that he would have had to leave within the week to avoid any complications in crossing worlds, and that such a period would not come again for a number of years.

Thorin had spent too long waiting in silent longing for the day he could return to his home. He had seen the chance for what it was and taken it.

Whether the others would see it that way was another question.

While Bilbo woke and got himself sorted out, Thorin scattered the evidence of their campfire and strapped his swords to his back. He pulled out the map and studied it. If his observations were correct, they'd landed on the southern shore of the island. They would have to travel north around the mountain range covering most of the southern coast, then head southwest from there to reach the watchtower.

"Ready?" Bilbo straightened out his coat and brushed some water droplets from his hair.

"Let's go." Thorin picked up the branch he had been working on that morning and handed it to Bilbo.

"I-Is this…" A small smile lit up his face as he gazed at the object. Thorin had found another long, straight branch and stripped it of bark to smooth the surface. "You made this for me?"

He nodded, pleased that Bilbo liked the gift. Compared to the weapons and other crafts he'd made in his lifetime, it was a poor piece of work, but he had wanted to do something to make him happy in the few hours of free time he had. "May it aid your journey today."

"This is exactly what I needed, actually." His tone switched to its usual casual irony, but the cheerful redness on his cheeks did not fade. He set the end of the walking stick on the ground, testing out its height. "It feels like I have more bruised skin than not."

Thorin stepped closer and looked him over. Bilbo had a few scrapes and bruises on the skin he could see, though none appeared too bad. He reached out and brushed his thumb over a bruise on his cheekbone. He didn't remember hitting him there, on accident or not. It seemed halflings bruised more easily than he'd thought.

"That's typical of a first training session." His hand dropped back to his side. "You'll improve over time."

"Right." Bilbo's gaze dropped to Thorin's hand, then back to his face, and the red on his face deepened.

"Let's get moving." He began walking and gestured for him to do the same. Bilbo had no reason to be embarrassed—he'd held up rather well during his first training session. It didn't seem as though they'd have time for another before their encounter with the thieves, but some practice was better than none.

They continued on through the forest, with mountains towering on their left and the sea crashing against the shore to their right.

"We've gone the wrong way."

"No, we haven't." Thorin withdrew the map again and looked it over. "We just need to keep heading west."

Bilbo looked over his arm at the map. "We've gone too far west." He pointed at the paper. "We were supposed to take a left here, but we didn't, and we need to retrace our steps."

"We haven't come to that yet." He indicated another spot on the map. "We're still right here."

"No." He planted one hand on his hip, the other holding his walking stick. "We came to a fork in the road a while ago, but I didn't say anything because I thought you knew what you were doing. But clearly you don't."

Thorin scowled at him. "I'm following what is indicated on the map. I know perfectly well where we're going. Come." He began walking again.

Bilbo sighed and followed him. Despite his irritation, he was clearly enjoying using his walking stick. The sight made Thorin smile inwardly and lessened some of his own annoyance.

The trees around them glistened with raindrops. It was well into the afternoon by now, and the rain had stopped a few hours ago, but the path was still damp. Thorin kept his eyes and ears on high alert, scanning their surroundings for monsters or other enemies. It was possible Phineas sent spies out to scout the woods, and that risk grew only greater as they neared the watchtower.

A few minutes later, the path split in two. "See?" Thorin glanced at Bilbo. "We're still on the right path."

"No." He gestured for him to take the map out. "We've come to a different split in the path, right here." He pointed at the spot once Thorin had unfolded the map. "I told you, we went too far."

He frowned. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I am." Bilbo took the map. "And we have to go back."

Thorin sighed. It was clear the halfling was convinced he was in the right and was not about to let it go. A small measure of doubt made him pause—he himself did not have the greatest track record with finding his way to unfamiliar places. Perhaps it would be best to humor Bilbo. If he was right, then they'd be at the watchtower. If he was wrong, then he'd have a chance to prove him wrong.

"Lead on, then," he said with an exasperated gesture at the road.

Not fifteen minutes later, they had backtracked to the actual road leading to their destination. Through the trees, faded white stone upon a hilltop was visible—they'd reached the watchtower.

"We'll not speak of this again," Thorin said with a warning glare.

Bilbo merely smiled and tucked the map into his coat. "I'll be keeping this from now on."

He shook his head and started towards the woods. There was a tight cluster of bushes that would serve as a decent hiding spot. "I want you to stay here."

"What?" He stepped forward with a frown. "I thought we were doing this together."

"Yet we don't know what we're up against." Thorin held his gaze, meaning to ensure his compliance. "When I went to rescue the captain in Novigrad, I walked straight into a trap. If I had let you come with me, you would have been killed. Now, I'm going to head up there and look around. If I believe the thieves have nothing to suspect, I'll come back and get you, and we'll take back what's ours. Together."

Bilbo glanced up in the direction of the watchtower, and worry flickered on his brow. "Do you think it will be another trap?"

"I hope not. But that remains to be seen." He placed a hand on Bilbo's shoulder. "Will you wait for me?"

"All right." A small, nervous smile twitched onto his face, and he placed one hand on Thorin's arm. "Be careful, all right?"

"Of course." He let his hand linger for another moment, then dropped it and set off through the forest.

Swiftly and quietly, he moved through the brush, staying out of sight of the path. As the watchtower came into sight, he drew low to the ground and crept forwards. Barely a story was left of the structure, and the pale stone was weathered and smooth with age. Low, conversational voices sounded from within.

The area around the tower was devoid of trees, save for a large one whose branches sheltered the building, so Thorin was forced to circle it at a distance to keep his cover. The archway where a door had once been was still intact, and a sizeable portion of the back wall had caved in. From those two vantage points, he counted only three men, and saw no packages or boxes. Perhaps the tower had a basement in which their stolen goods were hidden.

It was strange, though, that so few men occupied the tower. From what he had learned in his search, Thorin was sure that Phineas had more men under his charge, and that the watchtower was his main base of operations.

Unease prickled at the base of his neck, and a second later, the feeling intensified as Thorin heard the low click of a crossbow.

He whirled to the side, evading a bolt that sunk into the tree behind him. In a flash, he drew his sword and leapt at the attacker. The man held up his crossbow defensively and stumbled back, but was not fast enough to prevent Thorin's blade from sinking into his chest.

The brush crackled. More men were rushing towards the scene. He cursed and let the man's body fall. Somehow, they'd known he was coming.

Thorin lifted the crossbow and smashed it into the jaw of the first man to approach, then swung his sword to parry another's strike with a knife. Two more men engaged him while the first struggled back to his feet.

He parried and dodged their blows, keeping his senses alert for any more men that might be hiding in the brush. Another damned trap.

The brush behind him rustled. Thorin kicked the leg of one of the men in front of him, giving him room to turn and block a strike from behind.

Without warning, something blunt and heavy crashed into the back of his skull. His knees buckled as pain exploded in his head.

Get up, he urged himself. Losing to these thieves would mean death. He could not abandon this quest, could not abandon Bilbo.

But already the ground was rushing up to meet him, and Thorin knew no more after that.

It was pretty fun to write Thorin training Bilbo. Even if he is a little bit of a hardass. Will Bilbo's two hours of training be enough to save the day?

Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Huge thanks to Ellinmara for the nice review. I really appreciate it!

Please review for this chapter, it helps me out a lot! Until next time!