AN: so I know I probably made a bunch of enemies from the last chapter, and especially because I left it there for a few months now, but here! Have some resolution! Not complete resolution, mind you, we still have a chapter or two to go before the end. But at least partial resolution... anyways, enjoy!
OOOOO
"He is somewhere in Dale. I can give you a description of him before you leave. You are to find him, and you are to kill him. The very moment you have confirmed it is him, end his life." Thorin ordered Dwalin, and the assembly of guards that stood behind the bald Dwarf. No one wanted to be the one to point out that Smaug was obviously expecting this. He obviously had some way of changing his face, and he was waiting patiently for Thorin to come after him. But the Dwarf King was done sitting and waiting. He was not going to let anyone, especially Smaug, hurt his Bilbo and remain unscathed.
He was almost to the gates of Erebor when Dis stopped him, tears in her eyes.
"It's not true. Tell me it's not true. Not Bilbo." She sniffled, and most of Thorin's anger faded to sadness as he nodded and she let out a choked wail.
"Go to him. He will need you. I will not rest until the beast is dead." He promised and Dis nodded solemnly. Thorin pressed his forehead to his sisters for a moment before charging off, letting his anger return full force. He was going to end this, if it was the last thing he did. Smaug's life had lasted far too long already and it was time to put him to undeserved rest. Thorin's only hope was that he would find pain and torment in whatever next life he received.
The people of Dale could sense that something was wrong. They stayed well out of the way of Thorin and his guards, though Bard at least approached them to find out what the fuss was about. He was quickly persuaded to help them, without causing a panic in the streets. No one except those absolutely necessary needed to know that Smaug was still alive and causing pain everywhere he went.
They looked all through the day, making inquiries and questioning everyone they came across, but they made no progress. The sun was nearly setting when the call came, though not from one of Thorin's guards.
"King Thorin! King Thorin!" Thorin stopped cold and looked towards the small voice and waving hands. It was a young girl, no taller than Thorin's waist, and she was skipping up to him happily. He didn't feel particularly sociable at the moment, but he waited for her to approach him, a sweet smile on her little face. "King Thorin, a Man sent me to tell you something!" She said excitedly. His eyebrows furrowed.
"A Man? What did he look like?" He asked, trying to sound friendly, not angry and irritated as he really was.
"He was tall, and he had black hair, and the prettiest golden eyes you ever did see!" She said dreamily, her grin widening. Thorin's blood ran cold and he fought to keep his temper under wraps, especially in front of this small innocent child. That Smaug would involve a little one like this...it made the Dwarf King positively seethe.
"What did the man say?"
"He said he was waiting for you at the Main Town Inn, room 24. He said it was time you two talked." She said dutifully, obviously proud of herself for being able to deliver a message to a King. Thorin ground his teeth together and forced a small smile for the girl. He rooted around in his pockets and pulled out a few coins.
"Thank you for your help little one. Run along now, buy yourself something sweet, and do not talk to strangers anymore." She nodded somberly, to let him know that she was indeed listening to his orders, and then rushed away. Thorin watched her go before turning cold eyes to the Inn in question. He began stalking towards it, feeling the dark eyes of Smaug on him, even if he could not see the beast in any of the windows as of yet.
A few of his men saw his stalk towards the inn and followed. When they reached the door, Thorin stopped and turned to address them.
"I'm going in alone, room 24. Give me five minutes and then you know what to do." He hissed, leaving no room for argument, before spinning on his heal and walking in. the inn was absolutely silent, which was strange enough. But the trail of blood leading up the stairs just made the top of the list. Begrudgingly Thorin followed the trail, his grip on Orcrist tight. The Elves who had gifted the sword to him said that he could not wish for a better blade. He only hoped it would serve him as well as it had in the Battle of the Five Armies. He had one opponent, but it was the worst opponent he'd yet to face. Even Azog paled to this monster he vowed to end.
The door to room 24 was open, casually displaying a body left in the middle of the room. Thorin didn't recognize the man, but it was clear he was freshly dead, and the source of the blood trail. Smaug was standing further into the room, silhouetted by the light filtering in through the window. He grinned darkly when he saw Thorin and stood straight, lording the height he'd adjusted to in order to tower over the Dwarf.
"Thorin Oakenshield. King Under the Mountain." Smaug drawled with a taunting half bow. Thorin sneered but entered the room, keeping a distance between himself and the Dragon for now. If Smaug wanted to monologue about something, it could prove beneficial.
"Smaug." Thorin snarled, a disgusted sneer on his lips. The Dragon just chuckled.
"You're always so hot tempered. I guess that must be an attractive trait for you Dwarves." Smaug smirked, laughter roiling in his golden eyes. When Thorin didn't reply, he went on. "Oh don't tell me you're still put out about what happened in the mountain. Honestly you and your grudges, and over what? Some used up Hobbit?" Thorin's knuckles turned white around the hilt of Orcrist, and he was sure his rage showed, from the way Smaug's eyes danced with enjoyment. He was obviously trying to bait Thorin, and the Dwarf King could admit it was working to a certain degree.
"He is not just some Hobbit that you can use. You will not touch him again." Thorin snapped against his better judgment. One of Smaug's dark eyebrows quirked curiously.
"He actually managed to worm his way beneath your skin. You, who have lost so much and should know better, fell for the first Hobbit to pass by. It's...really perfect. You have so much to lose, and I'm going to be the one who takes everything. Again." Smaug started to wander to his left, Thorin going left as well so they started circling each other. He wasn't going to let the Dragon get the upper hand, but he could wait until he got sloppy.
"Your plans for the Hobbit, whatever they are, will not succeed." Thorin vowed, receiving a mocking laugh in reply.
"Stupid Dwarf! What do you think you could actually do to stop my plans, when you don't even know what they are? You've already failed and we haven't even begun."
"What is he even worth to you? A good fuck now and then while you laze about in gold that is not yours?" Thorin shouted. He may as well try to get more information while he was being subjected to this slow torture.
"Oh do try to be smart. If I didn't think he was worth more than a good fuck, he would already be dead. I would have killed him...just like I killed his mother." Cold fury unfurled through Thorin at those words and he found himself stopping in his path, the urge to just attack overpowering. Smaug knew it too, Thorin knew he did. "She cried, you know. She didn't stop her pitiful babbling about her son and how she needed to live for her son. I had to nearly shove the poison down her throat to get her to stop talking! And then she sobbed and wailed like a child, until her skin was cold as ice and her eyes unseeing. It was so, so, pathetic."
Thorin never had honestly to Mahal blood lust before. He didn't particularly mind having to kill orcs and wargs, but he never went out of his way to murder things. Except in that moment, when he would have given ever piece of gold in Erebor to slide Orcrist through Smaug's throat.
"I'm going to kill you." He hissed softly. Smaug didn't look convinced.
"As cute as your little dream of victory is, you already failed to kill me once. Honestly, did you really think a few arrows and spears could kill me? Did you even send men to look for a carcass, or did you just hopefully assume that an injured Dragon would have no way of repairing himself?" Thorin didn't deign him with a response, glancing out the window that was closer to him than to Smaug now. He started stalking around in a circle again, and was glad when Smaug did the same, clearly enjoying himself.
"I'm going to end your life, and then I'm going to return to my mountain. To my Hobbit." Smaug only tsked.
"Your Hobbit? Between the two of us, only one has actually claimed the boy. It's my seed he swallowed, Dwarf." A growl escaped Thorin's throat before he could even pretend to stop it. It made Smaug grin like a child receiving a precious gift. "And when I've killed you and taken your mountain, again, I can assure you he'll be plump with my cum, filling up his little body to bursting." Thorin saw red. He couldn't stop himself from roaring and swinging Orcrist up into an attack pose. Smaug hissed, though he still looked far too smug, and crouched to anticipate the attack.
Thorin took one step, and then there was the sound of glass shattering and an impact. Smaug stumbled to his knees, both he and Thorin looking confused for a moment. The Dragon looked behind him, at the broken window and to the roof of the Inn besides the one they were in now. It was higher up than the floor they were on, but that just gave Bard the Bowman the perfect angle to shoot an arrow. Right through Smaug's back and out the front of his chest.
Smaug still looked comically confused as Thorin stepped forward and put Orcrist to his neck. The Dragon sneered, but Thorin could see he was more occupied trying to figure out how he was blind enough to miss something so trivial as a sniper archer.
"You deserve a slow death, with torture and pain finishing you off." Thorin growled, and Smaug only rolled his eyes.
"Oh don't tell me you're honestly stupid enough to take me alive." His words were a little halted, due to the arrow sticking through his body, but they were clear enough. And mocking, even in Smaug's now vulnerable position. Thorin gave Smaug's body a shove with his sword and it gave easily, flopping down so he laid on his side on the ground. He put Orcrist to the Dragon's neck again, before bringing it up for one last downward swipe.
"Oh don't be so naïve." Thorin scoffed and delivered the killing stroke. Smaug's head rolled away a few feet before stopping, a puddle of blood growing around it. The golden eyes stared at him accusingly for a few moments before the last bit of light left them, and the last bit of twitching ceased in the headless body. But the thing that haunted Thorin was the smirk remaining on pale lips. Like Smaug knew more than Thorin even in the end. Heavy footsteps behind him announced the arrival of two other people. Dwalin appeared at his side moments later.
"That was easier than I thought it would be." He commented somewhat absently. Thorin couldn't help but agree, a sinking feeling filling his stomach at the thought. Smaug put up no fight in the end, like he wasn't worried in the least. That, and the smirk, gave the Dwarf King no peace of mind. Smaug had come back unexpectedly once, but maybe it wasn't about him returning to life. Maybe it was a vengeance yet unknown, something that Thorin would discover in time and hate the Dragon all the more for. Either way, he didn't want to take chances.
"Burn the body, and everything else in the room. He may have some kind of safety to fall back on, a spell or something of the like." Thorin commanded before turning away from the sight of Smaug's body pieces. Bard was the other person in the room, though he lingered by the door with his bow still in hand. Thorin nodded gratefully to him, and Bard returned the curt nod. He stepped to one side as Thorin left and then set his bow down to start collecting and searching through the things of the room.
Thorin charged out of the inn without looking back. That was done with, or nearly so anyways. Dwalin and Bard would take care of the body and any other complications. Now all Thorin had to do was take care of Bilbo. And if he was honest with himself, that was a more daunting task than killing a Dragon had been.
OOOOO
Dis looked terrible. Her eyes were red from crying, puffy and swollen. She hadn't cried is so long, and it only made Thorin more afraid of what he would hear when he asked after Bilbo's condition. He had yet to go in and see the Hobbit, but being greeted at the door of the infirmary by his tear stained sister and grim faced healer was not comforting. In the end, he didn't have the heart to ask, and Oin had to just start talking without prompting.
"Physically...Bilbo's arm wounds have been cauterized and present no further risk. But he's malnourished by choice, and dehydrated. I'm more worried however about his mental health. He was already on edge and now...well laddie to put it bluntly...he hasn't woken yet. And I don't know if he will." Thorin's insides squeezed painfully at the news. He had been gone all day hunting Smaug, and Bilbo had not woken. And if he never woke again...dear Mahal Thorin would never be able to apologize properly or even attempt to court him! He would never...how could he continue on if Bilbo died without even the comfort of someone being with him in the end?
"Is there anything we can do?" Thorin whispered, his voice nearly cracking. Oin sighed through his nose, which was enough of an answer on it's own, but he spoke quickly after.
"I've sent for Gandalf. Perhaps there is a magic...but we will not know until the wizard arrives." Which could take months, if not years. But that was left unsaid. Thorin swallowed the knot in his throat and nodded, glancing at the door of the infirmary. "Now Dis, I think it's time you went to your room and rested. As for you Thorin, if you want to go in and sit with him...it might be...well it might be a good thing." Thorin knew what Oin meant. Maybe he should say his goodbyes, because Bilbo may very well never wake. For all they knew, he could die at any moment.
With a heavy nod, Thorin hugged his sister and watched Oin lead her away down the hall. She hadn't said anything, and she didn't look like she was going to in the near future. Thorin couldn't blame her, though he did worry for her. They had already encountered so much opposition in saving their Hobbit. Bilbo had been on a downward spiral for too long, and it looked like they should just give up hope. Apparently Dis already had. Thorin's heart cracked sharply at the thought of his strong headed sister giving up hope on anything. Was this truly the end then? Filled with regret and despair?
Thorin had to force himself to enter the infirmary. He wasn't sure if he could stand to see Bilbo, let alone say goodbye to the Hobbit he had grown to care so much for. But he would never forgive himself if he chickened out, and so he swallowed the lump in his throat and went in, closing the door softly behind him. There were no other patients in the room. The sole occupant was in the same bed Thorin had left him in before he left to find Smaug. Only he looked so much smaller, so much weaker already, and it had only been less than a day since Thorin last saw him.
As Thorin cautiously approached the still little body on the other side of the room, he took note of Bilbo's obviously deteriorating status. The Hobbit's cheeks were hollow, and bruise like circles had surrounded his eyes. His lips were pale, except where they were starting to turn a translucent blue around the edges. And his skin was nearly transparent at this point. Blue veins raced around under his pale outer layer, though they were small, weak veins now. It was painful to see Bilbo like this. He had never really looked healthy, except for a week or two in the middle of his stay in Erebor. After Thorin had come to his senses and released Bilbo from the dungeons, and before Belladonna had...been killed.
Thorin was almost glad that Bilbo was not awake, because how on Middle Earth could he hide the true fate of his mother from the Hobbit? As Thorin sat next to Bilbo, he couldn't be happy that Bilbo was apparently so close to being with her again. Thorin didn't want Bilbo to die, he didn't want Belladonna to have her son again. It may be selfish of him...but he loved Bilbo. He didn't want to loose him.
For the moment, Bilbo didn't appear to be living or dying. So neither Belladonna nor Thorin could have him. All either of them could do was wait, their hearts both breaking for the boy they both loved more than anything.
OOOOO
"Thorin." The Dwarf King looked up slowly, his bloodshot eyes meeting with Dwalin's sluggishly. His friend looked concerned, but luckily he didn't say anything about how Thorin looked like orc shit. Instead he jerked his head towards the hall before walking away, Thorin begrudgingly following after him. He didn't want to leave Bilbo's side, but he realized he had been there in the infirmary for hours, if not days. He couldn't even remember when last he stood, and it was embarrassing how unstable he was when he did put his legs back beneath himself. He needed just a brief respite from his vigil.
When the door to the infirmary closed behind them, silence fell between the two for a few minutes. Thorin didn't really want to say anything, and Dwalin appeared to be stalling for time before he had to address whatever he'd come to say. Finally though it became too uncomfortable and Dwalin had to say something.
"How...how is he?" It was probably the worst subject he could have chosen from, but he could hardly take it back now.
"No change." Thorin croaked rather miserably. Dwalin nodded, looking down at his boots in obvious reluctance to move on to the main subject. "What is it Dwalin?" Thorin demanded, only managing to be halfhearted. Dwalin sighed before producing a piece of aged parchment from his pocket and handing it to Thorin.
"We found it in Smaug's room. It's old elvish, First Age stuff." He explained softly as Thorin unfolded the paper. The symbols were foreign to him, even with his (admittedly limited) knowledge of Sindarin and Quenya. "We think it's from the libraries of Lothlorien." He added when Thorin was silent.
"Lothlorien. Where that Elf was killed recently?" Thorin guessed blandly. He'd heard of the event through the Mirkwood Ambassadors that had stopped by. He hadn't cared much at the time, because he had been busy worrying over Bilbo in the wake of Belladonna's death. Now it appeared he should have paid more attention.
"We now know Smaug was the killer. Most likely the Elf came across the wyrm taking spells from the old tomes and..." Dwalin murmured, not finishing. He didn't have to.
"We'll have to send a messenger to Lady Galadriel, to let her know the boy's killer has been taken care of." Thorin folded the paper back up and returned it to his friend. "What is it, anyways? Why was it of interest to Smaug?" He asked belatedly. Dwalin looked infinitely more uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot a few times before scratching at his bald head.
"Well...er...we had an Elf in Dale translate it and...you're not going to like it." He all but whispered. Thorin wanted to snap that he already didn't like it. That obviously if Smaug had killed for it, or even went out of his way for it, then it was naturally something he wasn't going to like. But instead he just leveled Dwalin with an unimpressed stare that all but demanded a straight answer. "It's a binding spell. Old magic that links two people together through acts of... physical intimacy." The memory of Smaug forcing Bilbo to pleasure him came immediately to Thorin's mind and he saw red, growling in his throat at the memory.
"He bound himself to Bilbo." He hissed, not even taking in the way Dwalin flinched away. There was so much venom in Thorin's voice. Even his oldest of friends had never seen him quite so angry. "Even after he's dead, he's still tormenting us." Thorin muttered, with less fire, but no less detest in his voice.
"B-But...he didn't make a full connection." Dwalin offered, in the hopes of taking the pure murder out of Thorin's eyes. It worked to an extent, but Thorin definitely wasn't placated quite yet. "Bilbo was supposed to die with him, that's how a bind works. Either Bilbo's life force would keep Smaug alive, or he would die with the Dragon. Since he's obviously not keeping Smaug alive, and not dead yet, I think we can have a little hope." Dwalin continued.
"But." Thorin snapped immediately. There was always a but, and he was sure he knew what it was. Dwalin hesitated for a long moment, wishing more than anything he didn't have to say the next few words.
"But...it's very probable he won't wake up again." Dwalin whispered, confirming Thorin's thoughts, and lighting a fire of anguish alongside the rage in the King's belly. Thorin kept a fierce face for a few moments before it fell to reveal that anguish. Dwalin wished there was something, anything he could say to comfort his friend. But all he had to offer was superficial, and he knew Thorin would not care for that. Instead he put his hand on his old friend's shoulder, saying nothing, but offering silent support. The way he always had.
"Return the spell to Lothlorien when you send the messenger." Thorin finally murmured a few minutes later, his voice achingly hollow. Dwalin nodded, squeezed Thorin's shoulder a bit, and then dropped his hand back to his side. "And see if you can find out anything about Gandalf." He added just as softly. Thorin turned and opened the door to the infirmary again, pausing before going in.
"Have faith Khâzash." The soft phrase escaped Dwalin's lips before he even realized it. Balin had often spoken it to them when they wandered the wilds. After Smaug had taken Erebor. This time the Dragon was trying to take Thorin's One, even though Smaug was dead he tried to take Bilbo with him. And all Thorin could really do was have faith. Too bad his faith was failing him, faster than he would ever admit to his kin.
Instead of admitting his feelings, he simply nodded to Dwalin and let the door fall shut behind him as he went to return to his post. Dwalin sighed, in pain for his dearest friend, but sucked it up quickly so he could go about his tasks. He needed to be strong for Thorin, especially now when Thorin couldn't even be strong for himself.
OOOOO
AN: I'm sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter out. I can only beg the heathen gods for forgiveness and hope that no pitchforks are sharpened and torches lit. And I will try my darndest to get the next, potentially last, chapter out much much sooner. Thanks for reading!