Helloo! Thank you so much to my awesome reviewers, and those now following and favouriting, especially you newbies! Welcome aboard! I hope this chapter is okay, like I said I was really busy this week so it was written in what little breaks I had :) Thanks for those wishing my luck with the panto - it was awesome!
As ever, sorry for any mistakes!
Read. Enjoy. Review.
Chapter Eighteen # A Warrior's Wish #
In truth, Dwalin did not mind carrying the young prince down the long stairs of the Carrock.
Of course, no one had taken the young prince's jest seriously at first, with Thorin gifting Kíli a wry smile and a rare laugh and an even rarer hug, but then the youngster winced, reminding the entire company of the wounds still stretched across his back, chest, neck and face.
Óin had whisked in immediately, insisting that Kíli remove Fíli's tunic right there and then in an attempt to ward off infection.
"I don't even want to imagine what filth could have gotten into your wounds, given the way you got them!" the healer had muttered, causing Bilbo to pale and Kíli to grimace as he struggled to remove the tunic.
Dwalin had hissed when he got his first proper look at the lad's body – his chest and back were striped with gashes deep enough to cause agony without any lasting damage, and the old warrior knew full well that the fact that the whip marks were as deep as they were and had broken the skin meant that not only had the goblins' whip been made of something fierce, but it had also hit the same place multiple times. Anger broiled in Dwalin's stomach as he noted that the goblins' seemed to have wanted to drag out their torture for as long as possible…
Smaller scratches littered Kíli's neck and jaw from the goblin that had fallen onto him from the ceiling, and a single white line stretched from his right ear to his mouth from where the whip had lashed at his face, but it was the larger wounds that Óin had begun with.
The old healer had pulled out the few pouches of herbs he still had on his person and demanded water, which little Ori had provided, having been able to save his water skin. Dwalin had known that something was wrong when Óin took an inventory of his available ingredients and then threw a dark look at Gandalf.
Even as he crushed his herbs into salve with Ori's water, Óin had warned Kíli solemnly. "This is going to hurt, laddie, but we can't risk you going longer untreated. For all we know the wounds could be poisoned…"
Kíli had blanched slightly but set his jaw and nodded in a way that was very familiar to Dwalin, and he had glanced at his oldest friend to see if Thorin noticed the way the boy was unconsciously emulating his behaviour. Thorin's face had been stoic as ever, but his firm jaw wavered slightly and his eyes clouded as he recognised the balm Óin seemed to be making.
"Someone give him something to bite, for pity's sake!" Óin had barked when he was done, and Kíli had sent a fearful look to Fíli, who quickly took his brother's hand, gesturing for an unnaturally silent Bilbo to do the same.
The moment Bofur had passed over a small block of soft wood that would have been used to create some sort of knick-knack; Óin had shoved it into the lad's mouth and begun to apply the salve quickly and efficiently to Kíli's wounded back.
Even with the block of wood clenched between his teeth, there was no disguising the agony in Kíli's screams. Having been treated that way himself in the past, Dwalin winced and turned away to give the lad his privacy. He knew that the salve Óin had been forced to resort to was efficient enough at warding away infection or poison, but he also know that it burnt as fiercely as fire.
By the time he turned back around five minutes later, Thorin had joined his nephew's side, cradling his head in his lap to try and minimise Kíli's involuntary jerks when the ointment was applied to his face. The king's eyes held as much torture as Dwalin guessed that Kíli's would, had they been open. The youngest dwarf of the company had long since squeezed his eyes shut, the tears on his cheeks forcing their way through his closed lids, and pity filled Dwalin's heart as Óin wiped the salve across the single whip mark on Kíli's face with a regretful sigh.
"It is done."
Kíli had moaned in pain and Thorin allowed the block of wood to tumble from Kíli's burning jaws as Óin quickly threw some different herbs into Ori's water skin, swirling it around before passing it to the agonized young dwarf.
"Here laddie, it'll help the pain."
Kíli drank as though there were no tomorrow, finishing the liquid with a shudder in merely seconds before slumping back down onto Thorin's lap and adjusting his grip on the hands of his brother and hobbit. He had let out one more pitiful cry before he lost consciousness, and the healer had unhappily informed the panicking hobbit that he had indeed knocked the lad out.
"It was the kindest thing for him now – that salve's effective but it's crude, it definitely hurt him as much as the cursed whips themselves did. Best thing for him now would be to sleep for a few hours until the burning dulls a bit…"
Gandalf decided that they could not wait until Kíli woke, but he informed the dwarves that he knew a man who lived not far that could help them and that the best thing to do would be to make for his house.
For want of a better plan, Thorin agreed and made to carry Kíli himself, but Dwalin put a hand on his shoulder. Magical healing from the wizard or no, Thorin was still injured, and he would do well not to injure himself further.
Fíli offered – or more aptly pleaded – to carry his brother, but Dwalin had shaken his head once more. Growing up while wandering Middle Earth as part of a homeless, destitute people, Dwalin knew that the younger ones succumbed first to exhaustion and the last thing either brother needed was for Fíli to stumble over his own feet and send them both tumbling down the endless stairs.
That was how he found himself lifting the unconscious Kíli into his arms and following Gandalf and Thorin down the long, narrow stairs.
He had carried Kíli in the same way he used to when the prince was but a child. Dwalin had often found himself carrying a sleeping Kíli home while Thorin carried Fíli after an exciting day out that Dís would most definitely not approve of, such as a trip to the training halls to watch an exhilarating duel.
Carefully making his way down the stairs, Dwalin could almost pretend that the dwarf in his arms was Kíli, son of Dís, who would look up at him with awestruck eyes and come to him with questions his brother would have taken to Thorin or their mother.
He could almost believe that Kíli remembered the way things used to be, when Dwalin seemed to be a more liberal version of Thorin, one who would join in with the younger's pranks instead of condemning them.
He could almost imagine that Kíli still viewed him as a protector and a friend, not some strange, intimidating warrior.
But Dwalin, son of Fundin had known for a long time that holding onto the past only got you hurt, so he did not let himself imagine that Kíli had any inkling that Dwalin was once his greatest confidant, after Fíli of course.
"… But he'll be alright?" the hobbit's constant questioning from the step behind would have grated on Dwalin's nerves any other day, but today he understood.
The halfling was out of his depth, and the one he held most dear was lying limp in Dwalin's arms.
"He'll be fine, Master Baggins." Dwalin himself called back. "I've received the same treatment myself a few times, in situations far more dire than this. The salve's painful, but it works. When he wakes, he'll be drowsy for a while and then the pain will set in again, though not as bad. By the second day the pain will be bearable, and by the end of the week he'll be good as new."
"Oh…" Bilbo paused. "Thank you, Master Dwalin."
The dwarf nodded. Though Balin occasionally chided him for being too blunt, he knew that in situations such as these the truth was often the kindest and most coveted answer to receive.
By the time they reached the end of the staircase, Dwalin's arms and legs were burning, though he would be damned if he would complain, and he shifted the twitching young dwarf in his arms.
"Thank you." Thorin murmured to his friend quietly as Dwalin re-joined him.
Dwalin simply nodded and allowed his king to lean against him for a moment. Almost as soon as he had touched Dwalin's shoulder, Thorin stood tall again, Dwalin flexed his arms as if nothing had happened, and the company were none the wiser. The warrior did not particularly think any would find it that surprising that Thorin turned to his best friend for comfort given the circumstances.
Ori, Nori and Dori leant against each other. So did Bifur, Bofur and Bombur. Óin and Glóin and Fíli and Kíli were the same, each leaning into their brother to draw that warm comfort that family alone could bring. Dwalin and Balin leant together in times of pain or fear or grief, and once upon a time, Thorin had leant on Frerin.
Thorin no longer had Frerin, but that did not mean that he no longer had the support of a brother.
"I think we can rest here awhile." Gandalf mused, sitting down against a tree and giving the company little choice but to settle down around under the leafy trees.
Then again, it was not like Dwalin was complaining. As soon as the others began to sit down, Fíli strode up to Dwalin, holding out his arms to take his brother, his eyes bearing the same look that Thorin's did when he would not be talking no for an answer.
With a short nod, Dwalin eased Kíli into his brother's arms, flexing his aching muscles slightly as he watched Fíli sinking down beneath a particularly large oak tree.
Fíli watched Dwalin follow the others down to the river before resting Kíli's head in his lap and ensuring that his brother looked at least slightly comfortable as Bilbo sat down next to him.
Fíli's own desires to bathe were far less important than the comfort of his brother, and he stroked Kíli's hair absently the way he had when they were children and stared up at the clouds.
"Aren't you going to bathe?" Bilbo asked quietly after a few moments of silence.
"Later…" Fíli replied, tearing his eyes away from the blue he had recently been flying through to smile wearily at the hobbit. "Kíli should be waking up soon…"
"Really?" Bilbo seemed to sag with relief.
"Yes…" Fíli nodded, his fingers gently detangling Kíli's hair. "Bilbo, I'm glad that you're alive… And not just for Kíli…"
Bilbo gave a little smile. "Thank you... Me too."
A soft moan drew Fíli's eyes down to his brother as Kíli started to stir. The older brother grinned at Bilbo. "See…I told you…"
"Fee…" Kíli murmured, his eyes moving beneath his closed eyelids. "Fee…"
"He's dreaming…" Bilbo winced, clearly recognising the distress in Kíli's tone.
"Fee…come back…come back!" Kíli moaned, his head falling to the side. "Come back, Fee, please! Come back!"
Fíli opened his mouth, but before he could say anything Kíli fell silent and his eyes opened blurrily.
"Fíli?"
"Morning." Fíli grinned down at his brother softly, who blinked several times, looking very disorientated.
"Where are we?" Kíli groaned, rubbing his eyes.
"Um…I'm not entirely sure. We're near a river…"
"But we were on the big rock thing…"
"The Carrock." Bilbo nodded, and Fíli smiled slightly as Kíli's eyes lit up at the hobbit's voice.
Even so, Kíli's eyes narrowed at the hobbit. "How did I get off the Carrock?"
"Dwalin carried you." Fíli said matter-of-factly, a little shocked when Kíli flew up.
"What!?"
"Dwalin carried you. What's wrong?" Fíli repeated, worried that his brother would injure himself further.
"That's so humiliating!" Kíli groaned, dropping his head into his hands.
"No it's not. You were unconscious and Gandalf said we couldn't wait for you to wake up so Dwalin carried you down." Bilbo justified, and Fíli nodded.
Kíli sighed, rolling his shoulders with a slight wince. "Ow…"
"Are you alright?" Fíli asked in concern, putting a hand on Kíli's shoulder.
To his surprise, Kíli jerked away. "Yes. I'm fine."
"Good…" Fíli tore his eyes away from Kíli to glance at Bilbo, who was frowning lightly. "Kíli, the others are bathing, if you want to join them."
Kíli sighed, rubbing his forehead as if warding off a headache. "No, thank you. Why aren't you with the others?"
"I was waiting for you to wake up." Fíli answered honestly, thoroughly confused by Kíli's look of dismay.
"Oh…Just go, Fíli."
"Are you sure?" Fíli frowned.
"Yes…" Kíli insisted, flexing his arms.
"Alright then…" Fíli sent one last look at his brother before walking towards the river, removing his clothes as he went.
As Fíli began to bathe, Bilbo turned to Kíli.
"What was that all about?"
"What?" Kíli protested with a frown, and Bilbo raised an eyebrow.
"You know exactly what."
Kíli sighed heavily. "I…no."
Bilbo sent Kíli a clear look that he knew would have the young dwarf spilling his guts within the minute, and Kíli turned away with another soft moan before he finally sighed once more.
"I'm a liability."
"What?" Bilbo frowned with a sense of growing dread.
"What use have I been on this journey Bilbo, really? All I've done is get myself tortured, see you…watch you…almost get Fíli killed, irritate a giant eagle and scream like a girl in front of the entire company only to be carried down like a babe!" Kíli hissed angrily, obviously not wanting to draw the attention of the bathing dwarves.
Bilbo was quiet for a moment. "Well, to start off, Esme would slap you around the face for that simile."
"What?" Kíli looked genuinely confused for a moment, before rolling his eyes. "What Esme doesn't know won't hurt her."
"And to answer your first question, you saved Fíli from the river. You saved us all from the trolls… You got the dwarves meat in Rivendell, you survived the…the…" Bilbo broke off, dropping his head into his hands as his rickety walls toppled down and he remembered the torture of Kíli in goblin town. "Kíli, no one thinks you a liability. Least of all me. I've yet to do anything useful, but I'm sure I'll do something to help one day…"
He could tell by Kíli's sigh that the young dwarf was not convinced, but he could also tell that he would have to be satisfied by his son's compartmentalizing of the issue. Kíli would speak no more of this today.
"Bilbo…When you…when you fell, I…" Kíli's stammers fell away from his trembling lips and he looked up at Bilbo with tearful eyes. "Don't do it again! Please, don't ever…don't ever die again, please!"
Bilbo gave a soft chuckle, hugging Kíli tightly. "I didn't actually die, Kíli. And I can't promise that I won't die, you know that. Even so, I will try my hardest not to."
"Good." Kíli's voice sounded so small, so innocent. "I couldn't stand it if you did. I thought I was going to fall into pieces."
"But you didn't." Bilbo reminded him. "While we're on the topic, don't you even think about ever getting tortured again, either!"
Kíli chuckled wryly. "I'll try…"
"Good." Bilbo grinned, leaning back against the tree. "Now, let's go and bathe. I feel like I've fallen into a goblin hovel… Oh, wait…"
"Not funny…" Kíli muttered, and Bilbo smiled.
He should have seen it coming.
He should not have let his guard down.
But he did not see it coming.
One moment, Bilbo Baggins was safe and well, the next.
Splat!
Bilbo froze where he stood, feeling squelchy mud slide down his face pathetically. Slowly, so very slowly, he wiped the mud off of his eyes and glared at Kíli, who was retreating to the river.
Removing his coat carefully, Bilbo grinned darkly to himself and set his sights on his own target. He had spent so long trying to be respectable around the dwarves, but some things could not be forgiven, and Kíli was in big trouble.
He would never forget the shocked and gleeful faces of the dwarves when he appeared from nowhere, throwing as much sloppy mud as his hands would carry onto Kíli's head.
"How dare you!" Kíli yelped, shaking his head like a dog and inadvertently spraying Dwalin, Thorin and Fíli. "I'm injured!"
"And I'm tired." Bilbo quipped from the rock he was sitting on in his trousers and shirt. "So there."
"I'm-"
Splat!
Bilbo's eyes widened as Kíli's attacker chortled.
"That'll teach you to spray me, laddie!" Dwalin snorted as Kíli scooped more mud off of his eyes.
Fíli took one look at his brother and roared joyfully. "Du bekar!"
Bilbo wondered what he had started as Fíli launched a mud attack of his own on the older warrior, to which Dwalin responded by calling for backup from Balin, Bifur and Bofur.
Though Dwalin's brother declined, the two cousins gladly joined the fray, pelting the youngest brothers of the company with as much muck as they could scoop from the riverbank. Nori and (to Dori's disgruntlement Ori) joined on the side of Fíli and Kíli, attacking their opponents from the back, while Glóin allied with the Dwalin.
Bombur, Óin, Balin and Dori made their way to the riverbank to dry off in the hot sun now that it was apparent that cleaning would be rather difficult from now on, and Bilbo watched in amusement from his large rock, wondering where their regal leader had gotten to. He was well aware that Thorin would never participate in so unruly an activity.
"We have a saying among my kind, Master Baggins."
Jumping as Thorin's even tone came from right beside him, Bilbo looked at his son's uncle. "Oh?"
"We say," Thorin continued, his voice even, "That if you start a conflict, you had best fight until the end."
"I see…. Well, that seems noble eno-" Bilbo's words transformed into a yelp of shock when Thorin casually pushed him off of the rock and into the river below. The hobbit had barely hit the water when someone's hand clutched his collar and pulled him out again, allowing Kíli to smear mud across his cheeks.
"Hello, Bilbo…"
"Now that is quite unfair!" Bilbo protested, spitting filth out of his mouth and subtling unbuttoning his shirt. "I didn't even start it! If you wanted me to join in you could have just said please; now my clothes are all wet…"
With that, the hobbit slipped out of his shirt and dropped to the bottom of the river, grabbing two handfuls of muck that ended up on the faces of his two closest assailants: Dwalin and Thorin.
Bilbo was trying to decide whether Kíli's bright laughter was worth the terror now pounding through his heart when the dwarf king and warrior began to wade towards him.
"This…" Thorin drawled, wiping the mud away from his face with as much dignity as he could. "Is most entertaining. However, we were intending to bathe and since the water now looks like sewage, perhaps it would be wisest to postpone this particular battle until a later time?"
"I agree." Bilbo said quickly and Kíli snorted, though no one offered protest, surprised that the dwarf king had participated as heartily as he had, if only for a few moments.
By the time the entire company were ready to move again, half the day had been wasted and Gandalf had begun to hurry them, but Bilbo could not bring himself to worry.
"Oh…"
"What's wrong?" Ori asked him evenly as they trekked along the path.
Bilbo frowned lightly. "I've lost something…"
"Another handkerchief?" the young dwarf teased gently and Bilbo laughed.
"Yes, yes, something like that…" he murmured, feeling around in the emptiness of his pocket.
It must have fallen out in the river, Bilbo mourned, oh well…
I couldn't have used a little magic ring against a dragon anyway…
Da da dahhhh! I hope that was okay, we had a little fun bit at the end coz the company needed a break, and also I wanted to remind everyone (including myself) that before Bilbo left the Shire he was a lot more carefree and fun for having raised Bilbo. There is a reason why he became a little more reserved (the dwarves) but there is also a reason why he no longer is so bad... cue first Galadriel flashback next chapter if you like :P?
I will do more with Dwalin and Kili's insecurities later but I just wanted to give you a flavour of what is to come!
Quick note: last time I wrote a story I found Beorn so hard to write that I just didn't, and used his son instead, so any suggestions of what could happen at Beorn's would be much appreciated!
Thanks for reading, review if you fancy!
