Other than the laughs, songs and stories; the days that were spent in Rivendell were becoming more and more remote as they dragged on.
The Company did enjoy themselves, but one could notice the feeling of restlessness, growing, as the days continued. And even though the weather had been rather pleasant and welcoming; the Company did not always sing and dance around. Who would, when you know that all sides of where you were were surrounded by people, or things, that would rather you dead than breathing?
After a couple of nights, the Company had decided to leave the large room they were given and sleep outside, under the stars and upon the grass. For if you imagined dwarrows, especially those with some quite unsavoury ties to the Elves, calmly and humbly staying within the bounds of the Elven walls; you are incredibly incorrect.
It was fortunate of the imagination just to see them eating in the same court together, but I must say that if the dwarrows had a choice about food, like they did with shelter, then they would not be eating salads and listening to the fine melodies of the Elven company that they sat with.
They had been staying thirteen days by this point: their swords, knives and axes were sharp, their packs were filled, their clothes were stitched and their cuts had healed. Though Morlia's eye, however, was still left without a patch.
Bifur had asked if she wanted some cloth to cover it, but she had refused. However, I am sure anyone would have refused if you were offered some damp hessian to tie around your head. And thus, she could not rightly accept an offer of a different patch from somebody else, as to not upset her friend.
The night was warm and the Dwarrows sat round their fire on the grassy slopes.
Though Bilbo did not.
He had, and was going to, spend enough time with the Company on their quest and thought it was wise to take a breather away from the rabble. Therefore, he had taken to walking around the Elven buildings.
And so, there he was; on the stairs, leaning against the stone bannister, watching Gandalf and Elrond converse under the light of Varda that shone down upon them.
"Of course I was going to tell you," Gandalf exclaimed, "I was waiting for this very chance. And really, I think you can trust that I know what I am doing!"
"Do you?" Elrond replied, "That dragon has slept for 60 years. What will happen if your plan should fail, if you wake that beast?"
Gandalf shook his head and opened out his hands, "What if we succeed? If the dwarves take back the mountain, our defences in the East will be strengthened!"
"It is a dangerous move, Gandalf."
Bilbo rubbed the back of his neck and turned, to head upstairs.
And there stood Thorin; arms folded, listening with Bilbo to the argument below.
Bilbo caught his eye and gave a nervous smile.
Thorin nodded back.
"It is also dangerous to do nothing!" Gandalf implored, "The throne of Erebor is Thorin's birthright, what is it you fear?"
Elrond stopped sharply, turning to the wizard and raising his voice, "Have you forgotten? A strain of madness runs deep in that family!"
Bilbo's shoulders tensed up.
Thorin stood silently behind him.
"His grandfather lost his mind, his father succumbed to the same sickness. Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?"
There was a pause.
"Gandalf," Elrond continued, his voice more gentle, "These decisions do not rest with us alone. It is not up to you or me to redraw the map of Middle Earth."
Bilbo looked at the ground, then glanced quickly at Thorin, who still stood there; face unreadable.
Morning had come and the Company was already continuing their journey onwards. The mist still hovered above the grass as they marched along the dusty path, bags heavy, tugging at their necks and shoulders.
"Be on your guard," called Thorin, "We're about to step over the edge of the wild. Balin, you know these paths, lead on."
"Aye."
Bilbo took another glance at Rivendell, in a vague hope of keeping the sight with him for many years to come.
"Master Baggins."
Bilbo turned around, to once again see Thorin, whose eyes bore at him, without a single opening to his thoughts.
"I suggest you keep up."
The Company trudged on through the Wilderness of Eriador; the Misty Mountains capped with snow.
Over ranges, rivers and waterfalls they passed, silent with determination. And ever so slowly, the path became higher and higher and higher; looming over the great gloomy fields that lay out below, the mountains growing nearer and nearer every step they took.
The day turned to night; the weather turned to rain.
The lanterns were blown out, from the ferociousness of the wind, and the rain poured down on their hoods, which did little to protect them.
The path was thinning, with the rain making it slippery, and the cliff that veered off to the right of them certainly did not help the situation.
The Company carefully treaded along the track, water hammering against their faces.
"We must find shelter!" roared Thorin, over the deafening sound of the storm.
The rain was unrelenting.
"Look out!"
A massive boulder hurtled itself through the air and smashed into the mountain, only just above where the Company were, and it sprayed rock and stone down at them.
"This is no thunder storm," Balin cried, pointing into the sky, "It's a Thunder Battle! Look!"
Lightning shot across the sky, illuminating the Company's faces in horror, as they looked upon the gigantic might of the stone creatures that erupted out of the face of the mountain side; roaring as they reared up.
"Well, bless me! The legends are true!" shouted Fili, whipping his head round to scream at his brother, "Giants; Stone Giants!"
One of the Giants catapulted a boulder which slammed into the other Giant's shoulder; pulverising the edges of it's arm. Rocks were belted towards the Company.
"Take cover!"
Another boulder was thrown, and another, and another.
Debris began to fall over the Company once again and the cliff beneath their feet began to crack and split, halving the Company in two.
"Kili, grab my hand!" Fili bellowed out, "Kili!"
But Kili, Oin, Gloin, Morlia and Thorin started to drift away.
"Kili!"
"Thorin!"
Balin put a hand out to stop Dwalin.
"Jump!" Morlia shouted, as their half veered towards the mountainside again. When they got close enough they leapt, and were relieved to find the ground sturdy under their feet.
A third Giant rose up and heaved it's fist, demolishing the second Giant and sending it swerving back into the cliffs.
The cliffs that the rest of the Company clung onto.
"NO!" roared Thorin, edging his way past Morlia, who gripped onto Oin's shoulder and held Kili with her other arm.
Thorin ran round the corner, rain pouring down his face, and his blood ran cold when all he could see was the mess of rocks that encased his company.
Gloin headed up behind him and slowed as he too reached it.
But then- the rubble started moving- and groaning.
Kili let out a cry of happiness and rushed out to help them, along with Oin.
"It's alright! They're alive!" cried out Gloin, patting Morlia's back.
She gave a smile and rubbed above her eyebrows. Then, she let out a laugh and started to help Dwalin out of the mess.
The Dwarrows hugged and laughed as they all stood out of the rubble; all was good.
"Where's Bilbo?" called Fili.
Only the thunder responded, the Company had stilled.
Silence.
Fili glanced at them, brows furrowed, then crouched down by the edge of the cliff, peering down into the darkness.
Silence, as water dripped down his hands and fingers, and the thunder cracked again, throwing a bolt of lightning across the cliffs.
"There!" he shouted, pointing at Bilbo, who was only just gripping onto the wet stone of the cliff; his torn knuckles turning white.
The Company rushed to the Hobbit's aid, urging him to take their hands and they reached out to him.
Thorin hurriedly swung down, onto a thin ledge next to Bilbo, and he hauled him up, to where the rest of his Company were standing, and climbed up after him, wiping at the water in his eyes.
Dwalin clasped Bilbo's shoulder and looked down at him, "I thought we'd lost our burglar."
"He's been lost ever since he left home," Thorin spat.
Bilbo turned round to face Thorin- but Thorin did not look at him.
"He should never have come. He has no place amongst us."
Bilbo swallowed uncomfortably.
"Now, we must find shelter."
"It looks safe enough," Dwalin called to the rest of the Company, from inside the cave.
Thorin headed inside and his eyes flicked around in the darkness, "Search to the back; caves in mountains are seldom unoccupied."
Dwalin was passed a lit lantern from Balin and he lumbered over to the back.
"There's nothing here."
"Right then!" said Gloin, rubbing his hands together, "Let's get a fire started."
Thorin shook his head, "No. No fires, not in this place," he turned to the rest of his Company, "Get some sleep. We start at first light."
Everyone hurried inside and shrugged off their wet coats and jackets, no one speaking a word.
Balin stood next to Thorin and glanced at him, "We were to wait in the mountains until Gandalf joined us. That was the plan.
"Plans change."
Thorin turned to Bofur.
"Bofur, take the first watch."
Bilbo stared up at the ceiling of the cave.
His skin felt as damp and muddy as the mould that crusted round the sharp edges of the rock above him; his feet were sore and blistered; his hair was matted and irritable; his fingernails were scratched; his knuckles were red; when he closed his heavy eyelids, he could only just see the fading memory of the shire.
He was in a cave, a damp, horrible cave, and he felt like he was sinking and that the cave was shrinking around him.
Bilbo pursed his lips and he swallowed.
He silently hosted his bag up, onto his shoulders, and lent forwards to grab his hiking stick off the wall.
Bilbo glanced around the room at the sleeping bodies of the Company; Ori, Nori, Dori, Oin, Gloin, Morlia, Balin, Dwalin, Fili, Kili, Thorin, Bifur, Bombur-
"Where do you think you're going?"
Bilbo turned to see Bofur, who was smoking on his pipe, at the entrance of the cave, watching him.
"Back to Rivendell."
Bofur's eyes widened slightly and he stood up, "No, no-"
"Bofur-"
"You can't turn back now; you're one of us!" Bofur whispered desperately, stumbling his way over the Company, to Bilbo.
Bilbo gave a bitter laugh and drew in his breath, "I'm not though, am I? Thorin said I should never have come-"
"-No! No, no-"
"-and he was right."
Bilbo smiled and shook his head, "I'm not a Took," his feet shuffled about a little, "I am a Baggins. I don't know what I was thinking- I should have never ran out of my door-"
Bofur then smiled, sadly, "You're homesick; I understand-"
"No! No-" Bilbo waved his hand at the Company, frantically, "you don't understand, none of you do! You're dwarves, you're used to this life, to living on the road- never settling in one place, not belonging anywhere!"
Echoing silence flooded the cave.
Bilbo's breath hitched and he searched in desperateness at Bofur, whose eyes had saddened and whose mouth had dropped all hints of his happiness.
"I am so sorry," Bilbo tried, "I didn't mean-"
"No, you're right, we don't belong anywhere."
The thunder crackled. And the pair of them looked back at each other.
"I truly wish you all the luck in the world, Bilbo. I really do."
Bofur placed his hand on Bilbo's shoulder and they exchanged a final smile, before Bilbo headed towards the hole in the wall.
"What's that?"
"What's what?"
Bofur pointed to Bilbo's waist.
Bilbo frowned as he looked down and lifted his sword out of it's sheath.
It glowed blue.
Suddenly, a loud scrapping noise filled the cave and the turn of gears started chugging away.
"Wake up! Wake up!"
The Company yelled as they quickly rolled out of their bedding and grasped their weapons-
Just before the floor gave in.