Marshall Dís took one look Bofur, who was violently shaking and whose whole body was twitching every ten seconds, and said,
'I need you to do it again.'
'What?' spluttered Lobelia. 'Marshall, look at him - you can't ask this of him!' She pushed off from the lab table she had been leaning against, expression incredulous and hands open, beseeching.
'I am suggesting exactly that. We need more data,' said Dís.
'It will kill him,' ground out Lobelia.
Dís sent her a quelling look, but it was Bofur who cut off her next argument.
'I can't,' he said, twisting his fingers further into the fur of his cap with one hand and attempting to take a sip of whiskey with the other. He could barely put the glass to his lips to sip, and gave up after a moment.
'You can't?' repeated Dís, brows drawing together.
'See, even Bofur agrees with me, once was idiotic en-'
'I don't have the materials. The brain's dead,'
'Bofur!'
'And I've no idea where I'd get another, unless you jus' happen ta have a Kaiju brain lyin' anywhere, Marshall, along wi' your secret stash of whiskey.' Bofur appeared to think about it. A hopeful expression came over his face. 'Have you?' he said.
'No, I have not,' said Dís, watching as Bofur's whole body slumped back into the chair. 'But I know someone who might,' she added.
The effect on the two scientists was instantaneous. Lobelia tensed, a furious expression darting over her pretty features, but she said nothing, crossing her arms and digging her fingernails into her biceps.
Bofur, on the other hand, was looking at Dís as though she had just told him that she was the seventh incarnation of Durin. Dís reached into the inside pocket of her jacket and drew out a small, blank card, holding it out to Bofur, who took it, flicking it over and over, trying to understand what was so special about it. Even Lobelia began to peer interestedly over Bofur's shoulder.
'You'll need this, too,' said Dís, handing Bofur what looked like a pen. 'It's a light that mimics the light of the full moon.'
'Moon runes?' guessed Lobelia, 'I thought they didn't make such things anymore.'
'Apparently they still do,' said Bofur, shining the light over the card to reveal an intricate geometrical design.
'It's time for you to go and see an old friend,' sighed Dís, 'he'll get you your Kaiju brain, Bofur, but do not trust him, do you understand?'
'Oh, aye, Marshall,' said Bofur absently, still playing with the pen.
Dís put a hand on the lab table and leant in to Bofur's personal space until the scientist had no choice but to look her in the eye.
'Do not trust him,' she said, 'do you understand?'
'Yes, Marshall,' Bofur said, giving Dís his full attention. He was shivering a little less than he had been ten minutes ago. He might even be able to walk soon.
'Good,' nodded Dís, stepping back.
An alarm promptly sounded, so sudden that Lobelia flinched.
'Marshal Dís to the Command Centre, we have a situation,' said a voice through the sound system, 'Marshal Dís to the Command Centre.'
When Bilbo had finally, finally been availed of every medical test in existence, he found himself standing outside of Dís' office, shoulder-to-shoulder with his co-pilot. The corridor was nondescript, a little grubby, a little run-down, just like any other section of the base. It was also blessedly free of people.
Bilbo sighed into the silence of the corridor and said, 'I'm fine.'
Bilbo sensed, rather than saw, Thorin frown. 'I didn't say anything,' he said.
'You were thinking it,' said Bilbo, 'sort of. Thinking it in my direction.'
Bilbo was almost certain that hadn't made any sense, but he was too tired to care. The after-effects of his and Thorin's Drift were hard to put into words; it wasn't telepathy, precisely, not as it was when they had been properly linked - more of an acute awareness of Thorin's concern. It was flattering, but Bilbo did wish that Thorin would stop worrying.
'It's a justified concern,' said Thorin stiffly through his teeth, and Bilbo knew what was coming even before Thorin had a chance to open his mouth again. He was surprised Thorin had held off for so long.
Thorin did not disappoint. 'What you've just been through-' he started in a low rumble, but Bilbo wasn't going to let that pass.
'You went through it too,' corrected Bilbo quickly. Thorin gave a short, sharp shake of the head.
'What I put you through,' he said, holding up a hand when Bilbo began to protest, 'would exhaust even the most experienced of pilots. We don't have to do this now. Dís would let you rest, if you asked-'
'I'm fine,' said Bilbo.
Thorin simply levelled him with a look. Bilbo could sense the disbelief rolling off of him in waves.
'I'm as well as can be expected,' he amended, looking away. The corridor was warm, but Bilbo shivered all the same. Drifting was all he had hoped it was – and more. A lot more. The quicksilver connection between him and Orcrist had made the very core of him sing, but all he could think of now were the memories that had been dredged up from the dark depths of their respective psyches, the way they had tumbled into them as though the ground had opened up beneath them. Bilbo hadn't realised the extent of Thorin's loss. Oh, he'd read Thorin's file and felt the typical ache of regret, as he always did when he read the paper or listened to the radio and heard reports of yet another tragedy. But the war had been full of stories like Thorin's, and Bilbo's capacity for sympathy, his ability to feel anything deeper than a fleeting sense of sadness, had been blunted over the years.
But he hadn't been a bystander when he'd seen Thorin's brother torn from the cockpit, or when Thorin's home had gone up in smoke. He wondered how Thorin could stand it, how he could still walk and talk, let alone be willing to get back into a Jaeger.
'Now who's thinking concern in my direction,' said Thorin, interrupting Bilbo's contemplation, and Bilbo wasn't the only one who was tired – Thorin sounded as drained as Bilbo felt.
'That made no sense grammatically,' said Bilbo half-heartedly.
Thorin merely lifted one shoulder up in response. With some of his remaining energy, Bilbo turned his thoughts away from Thorin's past. He would rather not dwell too much on it. He was almost certain that Thorin was, and at least one of them should be attempting to look on the brighter side of things. Their Drift had been good – excellent, even, if Bilbo was remembering the readings right, and their darkest memories weren't the only things that they'd shared. Bilbo remembered Erebor, before the Kaiju attack, the city so large that it spilled out of the mouth of the Lonely Mountain, all tall, sharp skyscrapers that not only shot up into the sky but deep beneath the earth, too. The city had been a testament to Dwarven design and architecture, a curious blend of new and old. Thorin had loved it – he still did – but that love of place had paled in comparison to how Thorin felt about his nephews and his sister.
A sudden thought sprung to mind. 'I'm still annoyed that you didn't tell me you were a prince,' said Bilbo, breaking the silence again.
'I was hoping you'd forgotten about that,' Thorin said distantly, his attention clearly still elsewhere.
'Forgotten?' snorted Bilbo, 'how could I have forgotten? It's hardly trivial.'
'But it is. It's just a title.'
'Have I been addressing you incorrectly?' Bilbo persisted. Thorin's eyes were firmly fixed to the other side of the corridor, and it was suddenly very important that he look at Bilbo. 'Should I have bowed when I first met you?'
'No, you needn't worry about that.'
'But it's not just you – what about Kíli and Fíli, and – goodness, what about Dís?' Bilbo said with mock-anxiousness.
'Could you really imagine bowing to those two?' Thorin said wryly, turning to look at Bilbo at last, 'they're menaces as it is. Don't go and give them airs and graces.'
'Are you sure? Are you sure I've not committed treason in Dwarven terms?' Bilbo knew he was laying it on thick, but Thorin was properly looking at him - albeit with a highly bemused expression - his focus on Bilbo rather than whatever dark thought had ensnared him. 'I know we're on a neutral base, but there's a lot of Dwarves here-'
'You're safe from us, Bilbo,' Thorin cut in.
'From you, maybe, but what of my own kind?' Bilbo shook his head, as if despairing of Thorin. 'Etiquette is very important to Hobbits, you know, even in this day and age.'
'Even during war?'
Bilbo let out a short, high-pitched laugh. 'Especially during war. I'd be disowned by my own species if they knew how I'd addressed you. Lobelia would self-combust, could you imagine? She cares more about these things than I do. We'd never be allowed back in the Shire.'
'Bilbo-'
'Not that I can go back anyway. Well, I doubly can't go back now, what with the lack of bowing and the-'
Thorin put a hand to Bilbo's shoulder, effectively stopping Bilbo's rambling.
'You're safe,' he insisted, and Bilbo realised his hands were shaking. He looked away from Thorin's knowing eyes and pressed his hands together, behind his back, embarrassed to have let his mouth run away from him. He thought he could hear the distant sound of howling sirens, but when he turned his ears to the noise it blended seamlessly into the low-level rumble of the Base's engines. He took two long, deep breaths. Clean breaths, full of stale, Base air. Thorin's words rattled around in his brain for a moment, and he felt settled enough to turn back to the dwarf and say,
'So how does it work? Because I caught a glimpse of it in the Drift, but not enough to get a clear idea.'
Thorin let his hand fall away from Bilbo's shoulder, brows lowered in concern. 'It's just a title, as I said. The Line of Durin has protected Erebor – watched over it – since Dwarves first began to mine the mountain. But we gave up our kingship two generations ago when it became clear that a new form of government was required.'
'But you still have - had...ministers?' Bilbo said, trying to remember the flash of a memory with Thorin's grandfather.
Thorin nodded. He seemed to be more at ease now he had something as straightforward as politics to talk about.
'We have a parliament, and a Prime Minister, who we swear in, but the Durins hold no power any more. We're not allowed to hold office. Most of us – as you may have noticed – go in to military service.'
'Yes, I had noticed a pattern,' Bilbo said, mustering up a small smile.
He was about to continue with his questioning, but at that moment Kíli and Fíli rounded the corner at the end of the corridor, and Kíli caught sight of Thorin. Bilbo had known that some manner of confrontation between Thorin and his nephews' was bound to happen sooner or later, if Kíli and Fíli's constant scowls in Thorin's direction had been anything to go by, but it still didn't prepare him for what happened next.
'You!' snapped Kíli, eyes lit by his anger, 'you almost killed all of us! Bilbo could have lost his mind!'
'No, Kíli, that wasn't-' Bilbo started, taken aback by the sheer amount of anger in Kíli's voice. Fíli, two steps behind, reached out to lay a hand on his brother's shoulder but no more, his expression tight and unreadable.
Thorin spoke over the top of Bilbo, voice low and devoid of emotion. 'Don't speak of things you don't understand.'
'Don't understand?' sneered Kíli, shrugging off his brother's hand and taking two steps forwards, 'I think we understood perfectly from where we were standing, Thorin – on the other end of the canon that could have blown us to pieces if Bilbo hadn't of snapped out of it!'
'Thorin snapped me out of it, if it wasn't for him I'd still be lost,' said Bilbo, but Kíli barely registered that he'd spoken.
'The test was a risk,' said Thorin from behind Bilbo, 'we both knew it. What would you have preferred me to do, Kíli? We need a third Jaeger.'
'You could have stayed away,' Kíli was all but shouting now, 'you did it for five years, what's a few more months?'
'Kíli,' said Fíli under his breath, gripping Kíli's arm again, angling himself into Kíli's space as if afraid of what Kíli might do, but, glaringly, he hadn't refuted any of Kíli's accusations.
'I knew it was a mistake. I tried to talk Mum out of it, and look what's happened-'
And Kíli's tirade was at last cut off by another voice, snapping out his name like the crack of a whip.
They turned to see Tauriel and Dís in the doorway to Dís' office. Bilbo couldn't hope to ever read Dís' expression in that moment. All he knew was that all activity immediately ceased, and whatever Kíli had seen on his mother's face was enough to silence him. He still seemed tense, tightly wound – Bilbo could see that even through the bulky jacket he was wearing – but he held his tongue.
'Rangers,' said Dís with deadly calm, 'back to your posts. Immediately.'
Kíli and Fíli did not scramble over each other in their haste to get away, as Bilbo had seen them do so many times before. Instead Kíli shot one last, furious glare in Thorin's direction and turned to storm away with long strides. Fíli glanced between his mother and Thorin, a low, simmering anger causing his gold eyes to flare before he too walked away.
The stifling tension lifted, and Bilbo felt as though he could breathe again. There were a few beats of silence, during which Bilbo came to realise that he had instinctively stepped in front of Thorin at some point during Kíli's outburst. Feeling foolish, Bilbo stepped aside, glancing over to Thorin, willing his heart rate to settle. He hated to see the brothers like that, and it was worse still to see them take it out on Thorin. A low thrum of pain was rattling around in the back of Bilbo's mind, adding to his own discomfort. Thorin was avoiding Bilbo's eye, lost in memories that Bilbo could not pick up on, not in his current state. Bilbo's fingers itched with the need to reach out and comfort, but he knew it wouldn't be appropriate – or wanted - in their current situation.
'I'll action it immediately,' said Tauriel to Dís, breaking the uncomfortable silence at last. Dís nodded to her, shooting her a fleetingly grateful look before she turned her gaze on Thorin and Bilbo.
'Bilbo, Thorin. Come inside,' she all but sighed.
Bilbo followed Thorin into Dís' sparse office space. She closed the door behind them, and Bilbo tried and failed in his attempt not to fidget. He had the distinct feeling that he wasn't going to like what Dís had to say to them. It was something that he had known was coming from the moment his armour had been removed, but he'd ignored it, hoping against hope he was wrong. Now it appeared he had hoped in vain.
'I'll get straight to it,' said Dís, 'in light of recent events, I am left with little choice but to stand you down as the pilots of Orcrist Sting.'
He'd known it was coming, but knowing and hearing it were two different things, and for a few moments Bilbo could do little but stare at Marshall Dís and try and stamp down on his sense of betrayal.
Beside him, Thorin barely reacted at all. He would have soon known Bilbo's anger for his silence had Bilbo not been able to feel the crushing weight of his despair – for a split second the feeling was so intense Bilbo could actually hear a whisper of his thoughts: I should have stayed away, before Thorin got a hold of the tumble of his emotions, and then Bilbo could barely sense anything at all, as though a wall has suddenly slammed down between them. The sudden shift was so startling Bilbo physically rocked backwards from it.
But he wasn't done yet. He reined in his fear, his worry and his anger at Dís and said in as even a tone as he could manage, 'permission to speak freely, Marshall.'
'Yes, I thought you'd have something to say about that,' said Dís with little humour, 'permission granted, Bilbo.'
'It was a fluke,' Bilbo said, and he felt as though he were arguing for his life, 'it was a fluke and nothing happened – next time I know, I know we can work together. You said it yourself, we make a good team – you could see it on the screen! I know the data'll back me up. Just...give us another chance, please Marshall.'
Dís looked pained, and Bilbo's heart dropped.
'Next time?' echoed Thorin, breaking his silence.
'What?' said Bilbo, thrown off-course, turning to look at Thorin. It took a moment for him to follow what Thorin was getting at. 'Yes, next time,' Bilbo said blithely, but then he took one look at Thorin's closed-off expression and faltered. 'Unless – unless you don't want to?'
'I do,' said Thorin, and a trickle of his emotions began to filter back to Bilbo. Chief among them was relief.
'Be that as it may,' interrupted Dís, drawing their attention away from each other and back to her, 'I have no guarantee of stability for your link. I can't risk it. I'm sorry.'
'I understand,' said Thorin. He and Dís held each other's gazes for a moment, and Bilbo caught the way the edges of Dís' mouth tightened and her eyes darkened with something like regret and deep, unabiding sadness. Some manner of silent communication passed between the siblings, and at last Thorin turned away. Bilbo rocked back on his heels, the tension that had been keeping him upright and awake slowly bleeding from his body. They were done – they couldn't fight Dís on this, and in that single gesture of Thorin's, Bilbo knew it.
'Permission to be dismissed, ma'am,' said Bilbo tonelessly.
Dís nodded, and Bilbo turned to go. Thorin didn't follow, but Bilbo found he didn't care. He knew they both needed some time alone to properly sort through all that had happened.
He paused at the door and said, 'you might want to try out Legolas and Gimli.'
'Those two?' said Thorin, disapproval evident, 'why?'
'You think they're compatible?'
'As loathe as I am to give away Orcrist,' said Bilbo, 'I think they'd make excellent co-pilots, if you can get them to stay in the same room long enough to test them.' He snorted humourlessly. 'At the very least, it'd be entertaining.'
Dís gave a slow nod. 'I'll give it some thought, thank you.'
Bilbo nodded in return, and exited, feeling Thorin's mind recede and fade from his own with every step he took.
As tired as Bilbo was, there was still something he felt he needed to do before he crashed into his bunk and slept for the next twelve hours. Upon leaving Dís' office, he made a beeline straight for the hangar bay, keeping his head down as he went and trying his best to ignore the whispers that inevitably sprung up whenever he passed other personnel.
But in spite of his determination not to catch anyone's eye, a small figure drew his attention when he began to near the hangar bay.
'Lobelia?' he said, surprised. Lobelia hardly ever strayed down to the depths of the engineering levels. He did not have long to wonder over her presence, however – when Lobelia turned at the sound of his voice, Bilbo took one look at her clothes and knew exactly where she was going.
'What's going on?'
Lobelia met his concerned look with dull eyes, tugging her big, thick winter coat tighter around her.
'Bilbo,' she said, a spark of concern lighting her face, 'are you alright? I'm sorry I didn't come to see you, I...had a thing...'
She trailed off. Bilbo shook his head and said, 'no, it's fine. I'm fine. Well, I'm no longer a Jaeger pilot, so I'm not exactly happy, but I'm...I'm healthy, at least.'
'I'm sorry,' she said, voice heavy with sympathy.
'It's alright,' Bilbo lied, 'what about you - what are you doing?'
'I'm going to Ered Luin.'
'Yes, I can see that,' Bilbo said, gesturing to her coat.
'I'm going after Bofur,' she said, 'he's off to who knows where, and he'll need my help. He always does,' she added softly, almost to herself.
'Lobelia,' said Bilbo, starting forward, 'are you alright?'
'You should tell him how you feel,' said Lobelia suddenly, 'and don't just rely on the Drift like I know you will. He has to know, Bilbo.'
'What? What are you-' Bilbo cut himself off. He knew exactly what Lobelia was referring to, but that didn't mean he understood. 'It's...it's not like that, at least – not yet. I don't know. It's all happening too quickly. Wait, how do you know?'
'I know everything,' said Lobelia with a quirk of her mouth. 'I only had to have one breakfast with the two of you to know. I've known you since you were two years old, Bilbo. I could see the way you were looking at him.'
'It's too soon,' muttered Bilbo.
'It's not too soon,' Lobelia said, and laughed. There was no humour to the sound. She suddenly looked very lost. 'It's the end of the world,' she said, 'haven't you heard?'
'Lobelia,' said Bilbo again, at a complete loss. He and Lobelia were almost the same age – she was only a few months younger than him - but at that moment she looked ten years younger. The flash of fear passed in an instant, as quickly as Bilbo could catch it, and Lobelia straightened her shoulders.
'There's going to be a double event soon,' she said, almost glaring at him, and though he would challenge her on this point.
'You're sure?' Bilbo asked, wide-eyed.
'Yes. I'm right. I know I'm right. Shortly thereafter there'll be a triple event.' She gave Bilbo a hard look. 'You need to tell him, you idiot. At the very least, if he rejects you, you won't have long to feel embarrassed.'
He stared at her. She had always been harsh with her opinions and never afraid to say what everyone else was too embarrassed or too scared to, no matter what the consequences, but this was different. It smacked of despair.
'Don't say that,' he said, 'please - don't say that.'
'Why? It's true. There's a distinct possibility we might all be dead in a week. Likely sooner, considering how close we are to the Breach.' She appeared to shake herself, straightening her coat until it lay perfectly over her small frame. 'There's also a distinct possibility that we can do something about that. So. I'm going to Ered Luin, and I'm going to give Bofur a kick up the arse, and we're going to save the world.'
'Right,' said Bilbo faintly.
'And you're going to tell Thorin exactly how much you want to jump his bones.'
Bilbo groaned, running a hand through his hair. Exhaustion was making his eyes prickle and itch, and he resisted the urge to rub at them.
'Well. I'm sure you'll say it with far more romance than that.' Lobelia's fierce expression softened, her mouth tugging up at the edges into something resembling a smile. 'Stay safe,' she said, stepping in close to him, 'keep each other safe. I'll see you on the other side.'
She gave him a quick, tight hug, kissed him on the cheek, and walked away, towards the transport bays. Bilbo could smell her rarely-used perfume with his next few intakes of breath. He remained standing there for a full minute, letting engineers and staff members swirl around him, uncaring as to what they thought. Eventually, he decided that his conversation with Lobelia was simply too much to take in – instead of thinking over the ramifications of Lobelia's goodbye, he shuffled her revelations to the back of his mind. There were other things he needed to think about.
Kíli and Fíli were exactly where he thought they would be: attending to their Jaeger. The brothers were in the main garage set aside to repair and fix the smaller-scale mechanisms of Alpha Rayade – those that would actually fit inside one room. Their matching jackets were hanging up by the door, and they were both looking over what Bilbo guessed was a hydraulic pin for one of the Jaeger's joints. It was big enough to take up the entire length of the table.
'Hello,' said Bilbo, stepping into the garage. Immediately both dwarves' heads snapped up, eyeing him warily. Bilbo tried not to be hurt at the reaction. He and the brothers had been on good terms – friends, even, but they must now think that he was on Thorin's side. Bilbo tried to ignore the swell of frustration at the fact that there were now sides.
'I need to talk to the two of you,' said Bilbo when neither of them offered him any sort of greeting. 'It's about Thorin.'
Fíli threw the instrument in his hand to one side, where it landed with a clatter. 'I'll save you the trouble, Bilbo – we don't want to talk to him or about him.'
Bilbo shot him a glare. Perhaps it was his current state of tiredness, perhaps it was Lobelia's prior warning – either way Bilbo threw away all sense of propriety and got straight to the point.
'You have no idea how much he cares for you. Both of you,' snapped Bilbo, and watched their faces as they reacted to his words. Talking of such private things was a breach of propriety in the extreme, especially with so little in the way of sensitivity, but he found himself at the end of his tether with the way their family feud was causing Thorin pain, and anyone with two eyes could see the way it was affecting Dís, no matter how tightly reigned in she kept her emotions.
Kíli attempted a snort, looking down at his hands. His profile was tense and angry, his jaw set.
Fíli answered for both of them. 'How he feels has little to do with it,' he said.
'No, I think it has everything to do with it. Look,' Bilbo said, changing track, 'I know he hurt you. I know I'll never understand what exactly happened between you three, even though I think I know the bare bones of it. I'm not asking you to forget that. All I'm asking is for you to...'
He trailed off, his eloquence gone. A wave of dizziness swept over him, and he fought the urge to reach out and support himself on the nearest table.
'Bilbo, you don't-' said Fíli, but Bilbo spoke over him.
'I saw it for myself,' he said, 'I felt it. He still thinks of himself as your Uncle. '
'Then why did he leave,' said Kíli quietly.
'Kíli, he lost almost everything,' Bilbo gently reminded.
'So did we,' Kíli shot back.
'But you weren't there to see it, were you?' Bilbo chanced, and he knew he had his mark when the two of them looked away.
'We should have been.'
'Where were you?'
'Here, in Ered Luin,' said Fíli begrudgingly, as though the information was being forcibly drawn from him. 'Training to be pilots, just like our mother and our Uncles.'
Bilbo blew out a breath. 'Do you know what it did to him? Seeing Erebor go up in smoke?' he said, stomach rolling. He at once felt a creeping cold seeping through his veins, and he shuddered. The wound left by Erebor's destruction was a gaping, howling thing, an abyss of grief.
Bilbo was almost, almost on the verge of adding, do you know what it did to him, experiencing his brother's death? But he felt as though he would be stepping over a line that should not be touched – ever.
Kíli and Fíli were both silent. Neither of them looked happy, but at the very least they weren't arguing with him anymore. Bilbo just hoped that they were listening.
'We needed him after Erebor fell,' said Fíli at length, 'we needed him, but he just...wasn't there, anymore.'
'And then he literally wasn't there anymore,' Kíli said, laughing humourlessly.
Something was brushing at the edges of Bilbo's perception. The Drift had been an overload of information, almost overwhelming, and Bilbo was having difficulty differentiating one memory from the next. It was like attempting to tune a broken radio. But he concentrated fiercely for a moment, chasing the tail end of the ghost of a memory hovering at the edges of his mind, and was rewarded with a series of emotions as sharp and as focused as photographs. Dís, taking her brother's hands into her own. Dís, wiping away the blood on his knuckles. Dís, daring to say, you can't go on like this.
'It was your mother's idea,' said Bilbo to himself, 'she was the one who suggested it.'
'Those aren't your secrets to tell, Bilbo,' Fíli said firmly, edges of his voice rough. 'Even if she did, he shouldn't have stayed away.'
'Grief can do terrible things to us. I know that doesn't excuse it,' sighed Bilbo, 'I'm asking you, please, just...ease up on him. He's just a dwarf. He's fallible. And the one thing that kept him going was his love for you two, and your mother. Just...please, think of that next time you see him.'
Before it's too late, Bilbo thought. He couldn't stand to think of Kíli and Fíli going into the breach without saying goodbye to Thorin properly.
Kíli rose to his feet, looking as tired as Bilbo felt. He exchanged a look with his brother, and they appeared to agree to something between them.
'We need to show you something,' said Kíli, 'come with us.'
Bilbo had no choice but to follow as Kíli and Fíli disappeared through a side door, leading Bilbo onto a dimly-lit gangway with only one door at the end of it. The door was alarmed – Kíli punched in a code quickly, and it swung open to reveal a much smaller garage.
Two escape pods lay side-by-side in the mostly-empty space. Bilbo raised his eyebrows at them, wondering what all the fuss was about, until Fíli leant over and sprung one open.
On the outside, they appeared to be nothing more than ordinary escape pods, but on the inside-
'Is that, is that...' gasped Bilbo.
'Mithril?' completed Kíli, 'yes, it is. The other's similarly lined, too.'
'So this is how you're going to survive the bomb,' said Bilbo through his shock. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the silvery glow of the metal, the way that it flowed and gleamed even in the low light.
'Wehope this is how we survive the blast,' corrected Fíli. 'No one has any idea if it'll stand up to a nuclear bomb going off at close range.'
'Bilbo – do you know where this mithril came from?' said Kíli, staring at Bilbo intently.
'I don't, no. I just know I've never seen so much in one place before.' Bilbo couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from it. 'Actually, I've never seen any outside of a history book.'
'We melted down our heirlooms,' said Fíli quietly. 'Do you know what that means? We melted down our treasure. Our history. Crowns and armour and artefacts – all of it, gone forever. Just to ensure that we have even a small chance of surviving.'
'But I thought...Erebor was destroyed?'
'When war first broke out, they moved many historical artefacts away from highly populated areas. Big vaults, deep underground,' said Fíli.
'They must have hoped that the heart of our cultures, at least, would survive, even if our cities didn't.'
'We didn't even ask for it,' Fíli said hollowly, 'when mum presented the idea of a bomb to what was left of our government, hoping for funding, the word got out. Most of the mithril you see here came from the vaults, but the rest came from individuals and families. It wasn't just Lords and Ladies from old, noble Dwarven Lines who responded - ordinary Dwarves, too, gave what little was left. Trinkets, rings, tiny little earrings with a drop of mithril in them.'
'The Humans gave us everything they had from their vaults,' said Kíli, picking up the thread of the narrative, 'I think Aragorn helped – he still has a lot of sway. It wasn't much. We've managed to keep a hold of most of the mithril over the centuries. But it still counted. And the Elves. Even the Elves gave us...gave us necklaces and bracelets – beautiful things, Bilbo, breathtaking. We've forgotten how to even make things like that anymore.'
There was a strange sense of grief to the both of them as they spoke of this, and Bilbo knew he would never understand even as he ached with sympathy.
'But...I thought the Last Alliance had given up on the Jaeger programme?' said Bilbo, uncomprehending.
'They have,' said Kíli.
'But they don't speak for everyone,' said Fíli.
Bilbo took this in. He reached out with one hand and ran a fingertip over the mithril. It was a smooth as silk and pleasantly cool. 'So, does everyone know about the bomb, then? I thought it was a secret.'
Kíli shrugged. 'It's not been in the news, yet. Most of the mithril-gathering was done secretly, by word of mouth.'
'Personally,' put in Fíli, 'I think mum and Tauriel have both pulled strings to keep it out of the news. Arwen and Aragorn, too. It's one thing it being known on a ground level, but being broadcast on TV?' He shook his head. 'I've no clue how people would react.'
Kíli stepped forward, arms crossed, glaring half-heartedly at Bilbo. 'So forgive us if we're a little concerned about this working,' he said.
'It's amazing,' said Bilbo, ignoring Kíli's look. He felt strangely buoyed by what they had shown him, enough to say his next set of words without it hurting too much. 'You don't have to worry about me and Thorin anymore. We've been stood down.'
'Bilbo, it's not- we weren't...worried about you,' said Fíli hastily, and Kíli shifted uncomfortably beside him.
Bilbo barely heard him. His bed was calling to him. 'Just think on what we've said, will you?' he said to the two of them, making sure to look them both in the eye. 'Just think on it. Thank you for showing me this.'
Bofur had forgotten how hot Ered Luin was. It was supposed to be late autumn, it was supposed to be cold, but Bofur saw no sign of the coming winter in the packed, narrow streets. The press of people was almost overwhelming; having been at the base for so long he had gotten used to having his own space – here in the cobweb of alleyways and interconnecting bridges arching overhead Bofur could barely breathe, and he certainly couldn't think. It was raining, a damp drizzle that couldn't muster up a proper downpour, and no one seemed able to even glance in his direction. A sheen of sweat quickly broke out across his brow and down his neck; his thick coat was entirely unnecessary, and after a few minutes worth of uncomfortably tugging the sleeves up in an attempt to cool down, he gave up, took it off and shoved it into the hands of a young human huddled in a doorway.
His muscles wouldn't stop shaking. Several times he had to lean against the nearest wall or support and take deep breaths until he no longer felt as though he was going to puke up his guts. He couldn't think properly beyond finding their contact, and he kept flinching repeatedly as the ghost of claws shot through his mind. No one noticed.
He occasionally glimpsed the white arches of a Kaiju's bones as he walked. The Kaiju remains had been picked clean, but the city had risen up around the bones, used them as supports for new houses embraced, them so well that only two of the rib bones were still completely visible. The symbolism was obvious to Bofur – as much as the Boneslums were hotbeds of poverty and crime, they were also a symbol of their resistance and resourcefulness, their ability to survive.
He forced his attention away from the metaphor and to the streets once more. At last, the light from the pen Dís had given him happened to glance off of a street sign, revealing a glowing blue symbol that matched up to the one on the card. Bofur's thoughts sharpened, his focus returning, and, nearly gleeful, he darted in the direction of the arrow.
'You talked to Kíli and Fíli,' said Thorin, and Bilbo almost choked on his juice.
After he had stopped spluttering, Thorin held out a napkin for him, which Bilbo took to wipe down his front. Bilbo suspected that Thorin had waited until he was taking a sip of juice to say that.
'I did, how did you-'
'I can still sense a little of what you're feeling, and you're leaking guilt everywhere,' said Thorin, and Bilbo wished he could feel even an iota of Thorin's mood. The remains of their Drift had faded overnight, and now all Bilbo was left to go on was Thorin's excellent poker face.
Bilbo let out a breath, hoping he hadn't incurred Thorin's wrath. 'I did,' he said warily, 'I'm sorry if that was...if I was stepping over the mark.'
'It was,' said Thorin, 'but.' He stopped, and looked up at Orcrist, considering his words. 'Thank you,' he said at length, 'for trying.'
Bilbo was almost certain that Thorin's reaction would have altogether different, had they not Drifted. Was it artificial, this sense of closeness? Bilbo had gotten the distinct impression from the moment they had first met that Thorin was an intensely private dwarf. All of his kind was, but Thorin seemed to take it to a new level. Opening up to Bilbo, sharing every shade of memory with him – Bilbo had to wonder what affect it was having on their burgeoning friendship, for better or worse.
He swung his legs back and forth over the gantry edge. Their respective welcomes at the Mess that morning had been less than friendly - nearly destroying the base could do that to your reputation – and so by mutual agreement they'd decided to take breakfast at the balcony overlooking Orcrist Sting. Bilbo couldn't help but think that they were both a little bit masochistic, to be comfortably sitting and looking at something that was no longer theirs.
'I had hoped...' started Bilbo. He paused, looked past Orcrist to the other end of the hangar, to where a second Jaeger was also being worked on. 'I had hoped that Legolas and Gimli would take that Jaeger, over there. It's nearly finished. I don't think it's been fitted with armour yet.'
Thorin put aside his half-eaten toast. 'Maybe it still will be,' he said, 'there's still time.'
Bilbo blew out a breath, watching as Thorin turned his head and another strand of hair came loose from his half-hearted ponytail.
'I meant what I said. I still want to pilot Orcrist with you,' said Bilbo, looking at Orcrist once more. 'If Dís changes her mind,' he added.
He could feel Thorin looking at him, but he didn't let his eyes slip from Orcrist. After a long moment Thorin said,
'You're a glutton for punishment, aren't you?'
'Says you,' shot back Bilbo, and Thorin acknowledged this with a half-smile.
'I should have warned you. I just hadn't realised how strong the Drift would be.'
'I don't think even Dís saw it coming,' shrugged Bilbo. 'There was nothing you could do. For my part, I'm...I'm sorry I got caught up in what happened.'
'You needn't apologise,' said Thorin, and when Bilbo said nothing to this he pushed against Bilbo slightly with his shoulder. Thorin was very warm, and Bilbo wondered idly if Dwarves naturally had a higher body temperature.
'That was Dís' and her partner's last mission,' said Thorin, clearly hoping that he could use Bilbo's curiosity to steer him away from gloomy thoughts. Bilbo knew exactly what he was doing, but he let himself be played.
'I don't mean to pry,' said Bilbo, 'but who was Dís' partner? I thanked Dís for what she did for me that day, but I need to thank her co-pilot, too.'
'That's not my secret to tell,' said Thorin with a deliberate air of mystery.
'Oh, come on,' pleaded Bilbo, 'I won't tell anyone.' At Thorin's amused quirk of the brow he added, 'I could find out in the Drift.'
'If you do, you didn't hear it from me,' said Thorin, giving him a side-long look.
Still so many secrets, mused Bilbo, even in spite of the Drift. Was it little wonder, though, that he was curious? All three siblings had been Rangers officially, but Dís' partner had never been revealed to the public. Most had simply assumed it was her husband - Kíli and Fíli's father - but Bilbo couldn't see a reason to conceal it if it was.
Thorin's lips had quirked up into a half-smile again. Bilbo became aware that he had been tracking the subtle movements of Thorin's mouth for the last five minutes. He quickly looked away, willing his cheeks not to flood with heat.
'Gimli and that elf will be being tested now,' Thorin said.
Bilbo rearranged the cutlery on his tray of untouched food, putting them into neat lines. 'I know,' he said, 'I don't think I can-'
An alarm began to sound in the distance, and Bilbo tensed. He could hear it quickly spreading to every single part of the Base, corridor by corridor, until it reached them in the hangar. It was the alarm specifically reserved for incoming Kaiju. Protocol stated that pilots were supposed to report to the Command Centre for instructions, but Thorin and Bilbo weren't pilots any more.
He turned and met Thorin's gaze. As one they rose and headed towards the Command Centre.
Bofur had read the dossier on their mysterious funder on the way over to Ered Luin. No name had been given, but Bofur had built up a pretty good idea of the man. He imagined him to be a human, or perhaps even an elf – the Elves were not as above such things as they believed they were – perhaps ex-military, someone who could easily command legions of black-market workers.
He hadn't expected a dwarf in a suit so sharp Bofur was afraid he might cut himself if he looked at him too quickly.
'Are you in charge, here?' said Bofur. He had been distracted by the Kaiju parts when he had first entered the chamber, but now he was intensely aware of the fact that the door behind him was closed, and he was surrounded on all sides.
'Who wants to know?' asked the dwarf, gliding forwards to stand a bare foot away from Bofur, looming into his space, expression unfathomable behind his sunglasses. Bofur took note of the fact that the dwarf had plaited his eyebrows. His eyebrows. He tried to suppress a giggle.
'I've been sent by a mutual friend,' Bofur whispered, unsure as to how much he should be giving away. Covert operations were not his remit.
'Marshall Dís,' said the dwarf flatly.
Well, so much for that. 'Yes,' said Bofur, 'and, uh – who are you?'
Bofur had the distinct impression the dwarf was rolling his eyes at him.
'Name's Nori,' was all he said, 'and you've five seconds to tell me what you're doing here before I throw you off the balcony.'
Gimli and Legolas were already in the Command Centre, as were Arwen and Aragorn. Legolas, Bilbo saw, was clearly out of breath, and he had the most disgruntled look on his face that Bilbo had ever seen on an elf. Gimli beside him looked a little dazed, but it was mixed with a good dose of pride. They were both still in their training gear, fresh from their test if the sweat that was running down Gimli's nose was any indication. Bilbo didn't bother to hide his smile, but his expression faltered when he saw that Kíli and Fíli were on the other side of the room, looking directly at their mother, clearly ignoring Thorin and Bilbo.
Dís gave Bilbo and Thorin a perfunctory glance, resigned to their presence, and settled into her usual place in front of the personnel.
'We have a double event,' she told them, and then had to raise her voice over the resulting wave of noise her news generated, 'two Category four Kaiju are heading directly for Ered Luin, codenames Bolg and Azog. We are now faced with a choice. We either keep our Jaegers in reserve for the final assault on the Breach, or we go all out and hope that we can take both down quickly and with little damage to our Jaegers.'
Bilbo sucked in a breath. Beside him Thorin had gone very still. Surely Dís couldn't have been suggesting that they let Ered Luin be destroyed.
Dís zeroed in on Arwen and Aragorn, eyes sharp and voice steady. 'Dúnedain Evenstar, you are to engage the Kaiju as they breach,' she said, and Bilbo exhaled noisily. 'You are to take them down with extreme prejudice.' Dís flicked her eyes over to her sons, who straightened under her attention. 'Alpha Rayade, you are to act their right flank so that the Kaiju do not create a pincer movement around Evenstar. Remember that we need you to carry the bomb. I want your best today, do you understand? You cannot allow them to damage Rayade. You are the priority.'
She paused, let both teams acknowledge her instructions. 'Good,' she said, 'report to your technicians immediately.'
It was Legolas and Gimli who held Dís' attention next. She very carefully did not look in Thorin and Bilbo's direction. 'You two, good work today. You are to remain on standby until I tell you otherwise.'
A hole opened up in the bottom of Bilbo's stomach.
'Everyone else,' Dís was saying, but Bilbo could no longer hear her, 'to your posts!'
The warning sirens sounded just as Lobelia got out of her taxi. The reaction amongst the population was instant and dramatic – every Human, Elf and Dwarf on the street turned as one towards the end of the street, pouring out of houses and shops and side alleys, scurrying along in what appeared to be a calm fashion, but Lobelia knew to be thinly-veiled panic. Her taxi sped off without even bothering to close the door.
For a few precious moments she stood there, uncomprehending, clutching her umbrella in one hand and staring at the flow of people. She snatched the tail-end of a conversation as a group of young Dwarves all but ran by.
'They saying there's two-' said a dwarf, and that was all that Lobelia needed to spur her into action.
Two. She loved being right, but at that moment there was no sense of victory, of vindication. She just felt numb. Hugging her umbrella tightly, she followed the crowd towards the shelter.
Evenstar was one of the oldest Jaegers in existence, but it was also one of the best. It had an outstanding mission record – not as good as Rayade's, of course, but Arwen and Aragorn were some of the most skilled Pilots to ever step into a cockpit, with an extensive battle history. Coupled with Rayade, the fastest, most powerful Jaeger ever built, they were a force to be reckoned with.
They were losing.
Bilbo watched, every muscle in his body tensed and straining, as the Kaiju Azog side-swiped Evenstar, knocking the Jaeger completely off balance and into the snapping, waiting jaws of Bolg. Bilbo breathed shallowly through his nose. His stomach felt as though it was full of brambles, and his eyes were watering from staring unwaveringly at the screen without blinking.
But Evenstar was not alone, and was saved from another blow by Rayade forcibly wrenching Bolg away and landing a deep hit into the Kaiju's side with its retractable arm blades.
'Marshall, they've punched through Evenstar's main relays,' said Tauriel from her position at the head of the command centre. 'I'm rerouting their power remotely, but they'll be in trouble if they don't-'
On screen, they watched as Azog warded off Evenstar's counter-attack by simply ripping through the arm altogether. Evenstar let out a huge burst of energy from its other gauntlet, connecting with the side of Azog's skull, attempting to strike the Kaiju's temple. Bilbo knew the move would have had to have drained a massive amount of their remaining power.
The great skull of Azog snapped to one side for a bare second before the Kaiju whipped back around and leapt completely onto Evenstar's torso, sharp claws digging into the Jaeger's shoulders, using its sheer weight to drag the Jaeger under the churning surface of the sea.
Rescue by Rayade would not be forthcoming. Kíli and Fíli were fighting tooth and nail to get to Evenstar, but Bolg was keeping them fully occupied.
Come on, willed Bilbo, please. Evenstar would break the surface again. It had to.
The hull was buckling. Three puncture wounds had already compromised their cockpit. Her green console screen was awash with red blinking lights and several furious, pained alarms were sounding. All unnecessary – Arwen could hear Evenstar screaming in her head.
Aragorn was in motion beside her even as the churning water flooded into the cockpit and splashed over their feet. He brought up Evenstar's left arm to grip the jaw of the Kaiju, and half a second later she slammed the right arm across its jaw. It had little effect. One last, futile effort – but she was glad they'd managed it.
The water was up to her neck. Her gloved fingers trembled as they danced across controls, searching for something – anything - that could help them. But then came the sound of the Kaiju's teeth scraping across the top of the cockpit, trying to get some purchase on the heavy metal armour, and the feedback from Evenstar all but lashed out at them. She grit her teeth against the pain. The pressure on their cockpit increased to breaking point, and Arwen sensed through her connection with Evenstar the exact moment when the Kaiju gutted their Jaeger, its claw tearing through Evenstar's abdomen and chest. Arwen gasped and curled into herself as through the blow had been to her own body, and she felt Aragorn's consciousness spark and flicker.
Seawater swirled up and over her shoulders. Aragorn, with the last of his strength, made an aborted move towards the controls for her escape pod, but his fingers never reached the switch. Through the Drift she felt the bright light of his mind slip into unconsciousness. They had mere moments before the Kaiju tore through what remained of the cockpit. Arwen unhooked herself from her harness. It took all of her strength to ignore the dark shadow sweeping over her mind, threatening to pull her under. Something hot was running down her side under her suit, but she ignored it; there was only one thought left in her mind now, and that was for the man in front of her.
The light of their Jaeger spluttered and died, leaving her in the dark. In one last, desperate act she reached out towards Aragorn with mind and body, holding him close as the cockpit fell apart around them.
'Dúnedain Evenstar down,' announced Tauriel to the quiet room.
Bilbo couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen, from the spot in which Evenstar had disappeared. He only realised he was gasping for breath when Thorin laid a hand between his shoulder blades, grounding him. Thorin's eyes remained firmly on the live feed, which had flicked to Alpha Rayade with a speed that Bilbo found cruel and dismissive.
When Bilbo felt like he could breathe normally again, Thorin's hand slid from his back. With barely a thought and with no other motive than to provide Thorin with an anchor, Bilbo reached out and tangled his hand with Thorin's, holding it tight enough that he would have left bruises, had Thorin been a Hobbit.
They now had to hope that that Alpha Rayade could take down two Kaiju.
Thirty seconds later, the EMP wave rocked the Comms room, plunging them into darkness.
Bilbo could hear the engineers scurrying about and cursing, trying to understand the problem, trying to find the solution, and to his right Gimli and Legolas were whispering furiously to each other –
'Let me at them. Let me at them right now, I don't even need a Jaeger-'
'Yes, because rescuing one more dwarf is exactly what we need-'
'My friends are out there-'
'And they're not going to die, not tonight-'
-But Bilbo and Thorin only had eyes for Dís.
Dís, who had turned to face them, half-hidden in shadow, the line of her mouth unforgiving and stern.
'Go,' she said.
Kíli could admit that he'd done a great many stupid things in his life, but shooting a Kaiju in the eye with a flare gun in the middle of a storm was probably going to the top of the list. The Kaiju Bolg reared back with a cry so loud that it had a physical force to it. Kíli yelled back at the top of his lungs. Fíli, beside him, eyed the trails of vapour left by the flare guns critically, and nodded with satisfaction. It had been a good shot.
Fíli just hoped that the news cameras had captured their last, ridiculous effort, but that their feed would suddenly and mysteriously cut out before Kíli and Fíli were killed. He hated the thought that their mother might see their deaths on TV.
Bolg recovered quickly, bringing his great head back around, rearing back, teeth flashing in the streak of lightning that lit the sky. Fíli hauled his brother close to him, arm around Kíli's shoulders, straightening his spine, refusing to look away from his death.
A foghorn sounded, loud and challenging. Bolg aborted his attack. It cocked its head to one side and turned, creating huge waves that broke against Alpha Rayade.
Kíli and Fíli peered past the bulk of Borg. They could hear the familiar beat of Jumphawk helicopters.
The perfectly round, red glow of a Jaeger engine pierced the storm-ridden night, throwing light onto the unmistakable outline of Orcrist Sting.