Hello everyone, sorry this chapter is late. Also it's a bit short. But the next chapter should be out soon, and it's quite a bit longer, so it will balance this chapter out well. As always, thank you for reading, please comment, compliment, or question on whatever catches your fancy, and finally, no, I do not own anything except my OCs. Enjoy!
Slowly, the company forgives me for my omission. Balin admits he understands why I did it, and that he might have done the same. My friendship with Ori grows deeper over books, knitting, and the occasional drawing lesson. Fili tries to train me with knives and Kili usually provides a snarky running commentary of these sessions, sometimes to the detriment of his health. Even Gloin eventually starts talking to me again, albeit about the weather.
After the initial shock of my "Hi hello I'm actually not from Middle Earth" announcement wears off, my relationship with the dwarves is almost back to normal.
Everyone except Dwalin anyway. I don't think he will ever talk to me again. I'm not worried that he will hurt me, but I am worried that he will challenge my position within the company. And for someone who relies on the good graces of her employer, that thought is very troublesome.
Our time at Rivendell seems to fly, even as the individual days crawl by. I know we will leave soon. Whenever I see Thorin, I can see him chafing, eager to be back on the road. It's in his restlessness and the way his eyes wander around the company, counting the members like he did when we were traveling. Honestly I'm ready to leave too.
As beautiful as Rivendell is, the elves unnerve me a little, with their unnatural grace and eternally youthful faces. Every time I'm near one of them my fingers curl and I get a slight tingle up my spine, telling me that they're not human. And as much as it pains me to admit, in my mind Rivendell will forever be associated with losing my family.
In the library I read until the light's gone, then go to the dining balcony, where most of the company is just finishing up. They greet me as they pass, and I notice most of their hair is wet. Not wanting to think about what dwarves look like while taking a bath, I greet them in return and sit to fill my plate.
Thorin wanders in not long after me, sitting down beside me and humming a tune under his breath. "One of your songs of Erebor?" "Aye, it tells of the many wonders the dwarves made," Thorin says, almost looking dreamy. "Gems and gold that flowed from the mines, and how dwarves crafted these things with incomparable skill. Then the dragon stole our mountain from us. The song speaks of hope for reclaiming it and creating our treasures once again. We will reclaim it!"
He takes a long sip of water, and continues, "When we do, I will recognize you for your contributions to our quest."
"That's not necessary, I assure you," I hasten to say, ducking my head. "Aye but it is. You have provided much for us, some things visible and some invisible. Do not think I'm unaware of what you've done for the morale of the company Aspen." "Thorin—" "I am serious Aspen. My nephews never fail to remind me that I'm as cheerful as a crypt, and I have no illusions that it is my presence that keeps the company content and laughing." "No I rather think that's Bofur or Kili," I reply, though his kind words warm me from the core.
"Do not doubt yourself. I've seen you make Balin laugh. You are kind to Ori and Bilbo. You listen to Dori's and Gloin's incessant talk about Dwarvish culture, something I would have no patience for. And Mahal only knows how you put up with my nephews." I look up at Thorin and see him smiling at me. "Am I not your friend?" "Aye Thorin, you are." "Then allow me this small recompense for the things you've done for us." "As long as I still get paid." Thorin laughs, his eyes crinkling.
"We will leave early tomorrow morning. Be sure your things are ready to go." "Aye Thorin. I will." When we finish eating, we walk back to the company room, where I grab my pack and turn around to walk back out. "Where are you going?" Kili calls. "Out. I'll be back."
I head to my waterfall with a heavy heart, and there start to loosen a rock I noticed earlier. Next, I dig a relatively large hole in the loose dirt and sand mix beneath. When it's large enough I stop. Now comes the hard part. I take everything out of my backpack from Earth, sorting through things I do or don't want to keep. Some of my school books go back into my pack from Middle Earth, followed by my computer and phone. I sniff, my eyes beginning to brim over. I wish I could keep my phone, but it's dead and useless here. Keys, gum. My school ID card.
My wallet, containing the last pieces of my family, stays. I could never bury this. I touch the faces in each of the photos, wishing that I was with them in person. "I love you," I whisper, even though I know they can't hear me. Placing Ori's drawing in the wallet, I zip it back up, putting it into my pack with my mace and pocket knife.
I sit for a moment, the looming finality of my actions weighing on my shoulders. Slowly, I finish my job, lowering my backpack into the gaping hole in the dirt, staining it with a tear or two.
Then I shovel the sand back in, finally placing the rock back on top of my newly-buried belongings.
I stand, gazing at the rock for a few moments, then return to my room. I pack up the rest of my things in silence, making sure my newly acquired clothes and supplies are within reach. My partisan and knives are next to it.
I wonder what I should do now. Find the twins and say goodbye? I see the dwarves gathered around the balcony in the common room. When I join them, Bombur greets me with a quick smile and a mug of ale. Thorin is instructing the group on when we should leave. "We will be leaving at dawn, as soon as there's enough light to see by. Make sure you're ready. Including you Master Baggins," he says, making reference to Bilbo's recent habit of sleeping in.
Bilbo fiddles with a button on his jacket and then with his pipe. I frown. "Bilbo? What's wrong?" When Bilbo looks at me with slightly guilty eyes, I know. Immediately I begin to shake my head.
"No Bilbo, no, please. You can't. You can't leave us. Please stay with us. Please. You've been a huge asset to the quest so far." At my words, the dwarves begin to mutter and frown, slowly realizing that something is horribly wrong. But Bilbo looks more determined than I've ever seen him, and though his voice shakes, his eyes are steady.
"No Aspen, I'm terribly sorry but I must. I've, um, I've been a burden on this company, and I can't say that I want to continue on in the same manner. Lord Elrond has offered to let me stay here, and so I will."
"Bilbo please you have a huge part to play in the future of the quest! Without you we might fail entirely!" Bilbo just shakes his head, a mix of guilt, determination, and slight regret written all over his features. "I'm sure you will find a way to succeed without me. The story that you know is just that; a story. What if the author who wrote the story you know was wrong about me? Or anyone else for that matter?"
"But you signed the contract," I say weakly. "You said you would go all the way to Erebor. You have to." Bilbo begins to fidget again under the heavy, betrayed gazes of the company. "Lord Balin was, er, kind enough to add into my contract a statement saying that under no circumstances would I be forced to go farther than I wished."
"Just as I did for all of your contracts," Balin defends himself when several incredulous gazes swing his way. "Master Bilbo is free to do as he wishes, so long as he renounces all claims to his share of the treasure forever." "I renounce all claims," Bilbo states simply.
"Then so be it." Thorin closes the matter. "I wish you good health Master Baggins." "Aye lad," Bofur adds. "I wish you all the luck in the world." Bilbo thanks them as the dwarves break into small discussions.
How can they talk in such a time like this? I can't even think. I leave the circle, topping off my mug of ale on my way out of the room.
My head is spinning, though I suspect it doesn't have to do entirely with my ale. Who will get the Ring from Gollum now? Who will steal the Arkenstone? How will we escape from Mirkwood? How will everything with Erebor come to pass? I stumble away, chugging my ale and trying to wrap my brain around these new dilemmas. Everything I used to know as a near certain fact will be wrong now, meaning I can no longer tell Thorin what will happen. My purpose on the quest is gone. Will Thorin fire me now? I can already see Dwalin smirking, "Told you so."
After wandering for about half an hour, Thorin finds me and persuades me to come back to the company room without my ale mug. "Something troubles you," he says, seeing the worried look on my face.
I roll my eyes. What could possibly have given that away?
"Bilbo isn't supposed to leave. He has to stay he does so many things! And now you're going to fire me! Bilbo isn't supposed to leave the company, I don't know what to do now. He's leaving—" "Aspen! Aspen! Calm down," Thorin says. "I will not fire you. Where did you get this idea? We will have to do the best we can to manage without Bilbo."
"But I don't know what we will do without him!" "We will continue, and we will manage. We will succeed."
We are climbing up a staircase that leads to our rooms, but before Thorin can continue, we hear the voices of Elrond and Gandalf below. Thorin stops abruptly, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from the edge.
Elrond is saying, "Do you? That dragon has slept for sixty years. What will happen if your plans should fail? If you wake the beast?"
"But if we succeed? If the dwarves take back the mountain, our defenses in the east will be strengthened," Gandalf replies. "It is a dangerous move Gandalf." "It is also dangerous to do nothing! The throne of Erebor is Thorin's birthright! What is it you fear?"
"Have you forgotten?" Elrond bites out. "A strain of madness runs deep in that family. His grandfather lost his mind; his father succumbed to the same sickness. Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall? Gandalf, these decisions do not rest with us alone. It is not up to you or me to redraw the map of Middle Earth."
Gandalf's response is lost to us, swept away by the sound of rushing water as the pair passes our spot. I'm frozen in place until Thorin tugs my hand. "I assume you'd rather I keep quiet on that news." Thorin lets out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a grunt, stopping again.
"My grandfather hoped to keep it a secret, even from his own people. He was only partially successful, but still, do not breathe a word of it." He turns to walk on, but is struck by a thought and turns back to me.
"In the story that you know, do I fall to the sickness?" Though his face is impassive, in the dim light I think I see his eyes pleading with me. "Aye Thorin, you do," I say quietly. His head jerks back like he's been slapped and his hand goes out to grip the stone railing beside him. "But you overcome it. You're able to pull yourself out in the end, when it matters most," I finish.
"Is there any way to avoid the sickness?" "I don't know. I think you'll have to discover that for yourself." "If you see me falling, tell me. I don't want to be like my grandfather." "You're not Thorin."
"Don't let me fall," he whispers with pleading eyes, seeming like a child desperate for reassurance. I brush his arm in encouragement. "I won't Thorin. I'll be here."
Thorin's eyes search my face for the truth of my words, and I grin encouragingly. Together we walk back to the company room, where most of the others have disappeared. My head spins as I collapse in bed, ready to let sleep erase my worries.
We leave at dawn, much to the displeasure of some of the more hungover members of our company. As we say goodbye to the elves, Elrohir and Elladan approach me with a small bag. "Open it," they say, unable to keep the grins off their faces. I open the bag and stare at the contents, then look up at them with raised eyebrows.
"She'll never know it's missing." "And besides, this one is a lovey blue color, and blue looks rather nice on everyone, wouldn't you say?" "It's something to remember us by."
I snort. "I would never forget you, not even if I wanted to. I'm always going to remember how Elrohir almost stabbed me when we were sparring the other day." "I did no such thing!" he protests, as his brother nudges him in the ribs and says, "You did." I grin at them and tuck my new ribbon into my pack, then surprise both them and myself with a big hug, hoping with everything in me that I'll see them again. As we separate Fili passes by with a wrinkle on his face, but a pointed look from me makes it disappear. He's doing his best to unlearn his prejudices.
As the dwarves start filing out onto the bridge, I look around one last time. There, next to Elrond, is Bilbo. My heart twists, knowing how this choice will affect everything. I wave, and he waves back.
Squaring my shoulders, I turn to face the world.
