WARNINGS!
Just to be safe, there's a sense of implied raping going to happen below. Implied Non/Con!
There's also some gore but no worse than normal. Just a general sense of dark stuff, okies?
Also, thanks to writerchick0214 for her suggestion with Azog having some defiling time.
Summary: Bilbo dreams of Azog...
Unfortunately for me, when I closed my eyes and dreamt, all I saw was an endless darkness...
I opened my eyes and saw for as far as the eye could see that same blackness that I thought I escaped from the day before. Immediately, I thought back to Gollum's cave where I once fretted about being trapped down under the mountain but the air around me felt different.
Somehow it felt more open but at the same time heavier. I couldn't breathe easily, and as I looked around, I saw in the distance black arching structures that reminded me of mountains. The darkness tickled at my nose with a sense of pungency and my limbs felt lethargic and weighted down like I was exhausted.
I knew I was dreaming but I couldn't move from my spot.
There was the texture of rock beneath my feet, rough on my toes and when I peered down over the edge of the rock that I now stood on, I saw a battlefield that stretched on for ages. I could not clearly see the warriors nor know for sure what they were in terms of race but I knew that they had died down there fighting.
All around me floated a sense of misery and I felt myself being engulfed in the sensation, wanting to cry but my face didn't even flinch at the sight of the battlefield and the agony the warriors must have gone through.
My fingers flinched unconsciously. I turned my head, though was unable to do anything more. Heavy footsteps stalked closer and I wondered what it could be... I didn't feel the same sense of trepidation that I knew I would feel if I were really in such a situation but I knew that I felt some sort of nervousness. Something was creeping closer to me but whatever it was, it moved as if it had ever right to be close to me.
A victor of spoils.
I could not see whatever it was but I felt it behind me, a massive presence that as soon as it brushed along my body, I knew was dangerous. I felt it with such a clarity that all sense of the battlefield was lost. Sharp and dangerous, I felt like what prey must feel when cornered.
My eyes widened at the sight of pale claws on shoulder but when I went to run away from such frightening things, my hair was grabbed and I was held in place. I struggled in a known vain attempt to free myself but I couldn't break free from the strong claws, strength easily holding me when a heavily muscled forearm flexed to keep me still.
I gasped in the realization that I recognized it!
I tried to struggle again, needing to get away from the evil that was near me but the more I struggled, the more he held me and kept me from moving. I was forced to look forward. I was bound in place, unable to do anything more than just stand there. I wanted to move; I thought about how much I wanted to do such a thing but I just stood there unable to do anything but look forward into the endless darkness.
He towered from behind me, leaning down so that he could nuzzle his cheek against mine; he was so foul that I curled away from him but his strong claws held me.
Azog's eyes stared into mine, horribly cruel and incredibly entertained by something; he looked out into the darkness with me and pointed ahead. When he whispered something in my ear, I felt the burn of his voice along my body and cheeks and only wished for him to stop. Whatever he said to me, I didn't want to understand it. Whatever he wanted to show me, I didn't want to see it. Whatever he wanted me to know, I didn't want to know it.
Endless darkness for as far as the eye could see but there, when I looked at my feet, a pool of blood that slowly oozed closer. I didn't want to know what caused it but my face crumpled because I already knew. I knew Azog's name and I knew his purpose already so, of course I knew what caused the blood. I was already on my knees crying because I didn't want to see it.
The sensation of wet blood was transient, a fleeting coolness that even when my fingers went into the dark red pool, I couldn't really feel the texture of it.
Azog was in front of me now, looking down at me as if I were something small and puny - infantile at best - something to be dealt with accordingly. When he stood before me, I understood once again that he was evil just from the sight of him. He was foulness the likes I would ever see again.
My face crumpled at the sight of what was in his outstretched hand, an offering to the puny being that soured his long awaited victory with her defiance. For all my efforts, this is what was being offered. I cried at the sight of it, the very image of Thorin's head being held up by dark, gnarled locks of hair that was matted and disgusting even to look at. His eyes were lifeless and I had to look away in the fear of being sick.
The offering was made, thrown to my knees and earning a flinch from me when blood splattered against the skin of my face. I didn't want to open my eyes. I didn't want to see what I knew would be there. I didn't want to know.
This was so obviously a dream. I willed myself to see something else than what I knew was there.
I willed that when I next opened my eyes, I would see Thorin and the brothers standing there, arms outstretched with smiles on their faces, waiting for me to run to them.
I opened my eyes and froze at the sight of Thorin's head sitting perfectly upright but still devoid of any body. His eyes were closed now, at least no longer staring at me deadened and empty, but the sight of him was still too much. I reached for his head just because I needed it in my arms, safe where I could protect him from Azog because that creature was too evil. The weight of it was staggeringly light, so much so that I almost didn't understand why it was so light. Nevertheless, when I brought it near me, it became heavier and heavier until it sat perfectly in my lap. It felt as if it weighed a ton now that it was in my arms.
I could feel blood soaking my skirts, staining my fingers that brushed away the little hairs that hung in Thorin's face. Something was on his forehead. I could not stop myself from wiping the blood from his forehead, horrified that even as my hand slowly wiped it away, letters rose angrily from the skin.
A Z O G
I cried out from the pain of Azog's voice on my skin again, curling around the shape of Thorin's head even as I clutched it tightly in some vague attempt to get away from the Defiler. I kept my eyes closed even when I felt two more heads thrown down at my knees. I didn't want to open my eyes again because I knew what I would see.
I couldn't see those faces the same way I had seen Thorin's. I couldn't do it.
Viciously, I was pulled up from my spot on the ground, flung down to the hard roughened cavern floor of Gollum's cave. Azog was there and covering me with his massive form. I was screaming and trying to fight him but I was weak compared to him. All my struggles were met with little more than amusement, even as he held me down with a clawed metal hand and pulled out his dagger.
When he spoke, I cried out as the white hot, freezing cold of his voice burned lines of agony along my skin. I turned away from him, struggling but my face was held in place by something. I couldn't feel what but the more I tried to move against it, the tighter it held me down.
I was forced to stare up at Azog as he brought the dagger down slowly to the skin of my face and out of sheer terror, I closed my eyes. If he was going to kill me, I didn't want to literally stare up into his eyes as he did so-
Painful, stinging fury erupted from my forehead and I instantly struggled against the foul orc, trying to dislodge him and beat him off but he wouldn't be deterred. Even as his voice spoke to me in that horrible language of his, his dagger carved into my forehead the letters of a name that I knew would be his own. When the dagger was finally lifted and I felt the sting of his name on my forehead, his laughter was this pervasive stench in the air.
I desperately wanted to wake up.
Almost like he heard what I was thinking, Azog's face twisted in rage and he threw the dagger aside, and grabbed at the very fabric of my vest. I remembered the story that Balin told us about Moria and I remembered the full mention of his name that Thorin said in battle.
The Defiler.
My struggles began anew, unwilling to be subjected to such a foul act, unwilling to just allow myself to be shamed any further, an act that would already accompany the sight of his name on my skin. I struggled even as I felt Azog rip away fabric, exposing skin and holding me down so that he could rip away my skirts. When I felt him spreading my legs, I screamed and clawed into the ground desperately-
My eyes opened as I twitched awake, a near violent jostle of my body that made Fili mumble incoherently in his sleep before he snuggled back down into his spot and settled back into deep sleep. The visages of the dream were still upon me, washing over my mind like a rush of water that almost couldn't be stopped; I saw the battlefield somewhat still clearly and even the sensation of Azog's name on my forehead was fading from memory.
The image of Thorin's bodiless head was still sharp as ever.
I shuddered at the memory and tried to bury my face into the warmth of the brothers to try and return to sleep but my adrenaline sang in my veins and I realized that I had faintly begun to shake. I laid there nonetheless because I didn't really want to get up and because the warmth of the brothers really was really doing wonders for calming me down.
All around me was the sound of snores and though it was always such an oppressive force on my chest that bothered me, it rested like a hand that let me know that they were there. There were nearby. Just breathe through it and it won't feel like it's suffocating. I still didn't like the feeling of it because every so often Gloin's louder snores would make the sensation push more firmly but between the two brothers and underneath the warmth of Thorin's jacket, it drowned out most of the sound.
I felt comfortable. I felt like I was calming down. I looked up into the sky above and saw the sight of the clear stars and sighed in the relief that we were still safe. All of us were safe and sound and Azog wouldn't be able to travel the distance that we did by air this quickly. We were safe for now. I repeated the thought in my head until I realized that I desperately tried to convince myself of it but that I was still unsure of such a notion.
Azog was there still out there somewhere and with such a dream still lingering in my mind, I couldn't stay still anymore. I sat up from my spot between the brothers and untangled their arms from around me, smiling when Kili mumbled something about some sort of food that was running away from him.
Given the fact that Thorin's coat was still on us, I figured that our most esteemed leader would be on first watch. My eyes found him exactly where I last saw him, still sitting cross legged and staring off into the distance around the Carrock. After a quick glance around the camp full of sleeping dwarves and a sleeping wizard, I stood up and made my way over to him.
The night was cold despite the warmth of summer that we knew to be going on down in the valley below the Carrock, the winds blowing strongly from our higher vantage point. I shivered even as I went to Thorin's side, both from the wind and from the vague images of the dream that still lingered in my mind unpleasantly. Now that I had been awake for longer than a few minutes, the dream seemed to fade off quicker than ever but the fear from such an experience was still profoundly felt. I was exhausted by such a dream but given all my confidences that it was just a silly dream and nothing more, the haunted quality of it pervaded my mind.
"What's wrong, Bilbo?"
Fresh from a dream where Azog's voice practically burned me, his voice was a tender touch against my wrist, nervous and fluttering but still confidently present. His eyes gazed up at me from beside him, their blue depths looking over me with the worry that he felt towards my sudden appearance at his side. Never before had I not slept through the night and given that my face was usually so open, I knew he could see my troubles.
It was his eyes that truly did me in though.
As soon as I saw them, even though I knew everything I saw moments before was a dream, I couldn't stop myself from seeing it again. Thorin's blue eyes horribly empty and his head cut clean from his body, the very outcome I tried so hard to avoid the night before.
I sniffled and started to cry because even the memory of such an image was awful.
Looking at Thorin did little to quell my feelings for that fact. Even as his hand reached out for me, I saw the raw looking scrapes, cuts and tender bruises on his face, knew of the injuries that he still needed to tend to on his body.
"You're such a stubborn dwarf..."
It came out as a whimper between my tears, "What were you thinking?" How ironic I would use the very words he used on me earlier in the day. Thorin's eyes were confused and sad, unable to figure out how to soothe me. He didn't know what to say to such words, only able to stare up and wait for me to speak more.
"You were nearly killed back there!"
His eyes hardened instantly, a flush rising on his cheeks because of the embarrassment of his obvious defeat and how thorough it had been. The line of his mouth went grim and he made to turn back away from me, "It was my duty. I would-"
"You're an idiot!"
His eyes snapped back to look at me, obviously wanting to defend himself but before he could do so, my hand shot out and all I knew after that was the harsh sting on the palm of my hand. Thorin's face was so wholly open with his surprise, his eyes running through emotions too quickly to name. Absentmindedly, his hand went to his cheek, his whole being just so utterly shaken by my outburst.
He didn't know what to say.
"What good is it – any of this – if you're dead?"
I motioned out to the very world we were in, making a special point to direction his attention to where the Lonely Mountain still stood though it was hidden now by the night. Though my words lingered in the air, my meaning was quite clear. What good was any of this, this entire adventure of reclaiming a mountain for a King if the King was determined to get himself killed.
We both stared at one another before his eyes softened and he smiled weakly, nodding slowly, "You are right. It does little good if I'm slain in battle."
Upon his words reflected in my mind the very sight of him headless again and I started to cry in spite of the fact that Thorin was alive before me. Once again, he did not know what to do about my tears for he was the cause of them and he knew that. He did not want to be the cause of such a thing as my tears again.
His hand reached up, palm face up, and his eyes beckoned me, a request and a bid for forgiveness for whatever he recently did to instigate such tears. Without even bothering to take the hand, I collapsed onto him, my arms wrapped around his shoulders tightly and sobbing into his dark hair that was tangled and crusty with blood and smelled of musk, sweat, and an earthy pungency that would all together be too much if not for my urgency to be close to him.
His arms held onto me tightly, grounding me and letting me know that he was there and that everything was alright. I know I pulled his hair too tightly but I couldn't help it as I sobbed into his shoulder.
His hand stroked along my back softly, roughened palm soothing me with an easy efficiency that made me think briefly of the brothers and if Thorin were used to such things because of them. Finally when my tears subsided and my breathing steadied once more, he asked me again, "Tell me what happened."
His voice was tender along my neck, a whisper of sensation that trembled because he was frightened of such an answer but needing to hear it.
"I had a dream about you; there was death everywhere," He tensed below me but allowed me to continue pouring out my worries into the thick of his neck, "You, Fili, and Kili. Azog was there... There was just so much blood and he- He carved his name into your forehead." I started to cry again, "Mine too. It hurt so much and I woke just as he was about to-"
Before I could finish, Thorin pulled me back so that I could look at him, his hand in the thick of my hair.
"Don't even finish that! It was a dream; it would never happen. Not to you."
"But if you're not-"
"It wouldn't matter. You held yourself well in the mountains, and when separated from us, you found your way back entirely on your own. Despite my behavior towards you as well, you saved my life. I was wrong to have doubted you. I was wrong to think ill of you in any way." He breathed in deeply the scent of my hair, "I am sorry, Bilbo. For everything."
I held to him tightly because I was unwilling to let him go and because between the two of us, this was a rare moment for us to truly just let our feelings be said. Thorin and I were so awkward and proper about our emotions, too nervous or stubborn to say anything. Thorin and I weren't like Fili and I. Fili never had troubles saying what exactly he felt and he never had troubles expressing his love and affection for someone. I was awkward about it, taking too long and being so nervous about the other person. As much as I loved Fili, I still could not freely seek him out and kiss him in front of the others. Thorin was the same way, reserved and unable to wholly express himself as easily as his nephews could. They could show their concern in subtle ways. I could show only show mine by fretting over each of them. Thorin's worry came out too harshly, his concern too aggressively.
Where one side thrived with words, the other thrived under quiet.
In the quiet of such a horrible yet peaceful night, we were finally able to be understood.