In which not very much happens at all, except for some talking.
They stayed in Lake-Town for a full fortnight. After that it was still a week of travel to the Lonely Mountain, and the Company grew ever grimmer as they approached. The Desolation surrounding the mountain was complete, and it was hard to find joy enough to sing or laugh when all around was black and dead and dreary.
Each day that they traveled, Bilbo grew increasingly apprehensive, and the sight of the mountain looming in front of them did nothing to calm his nerves. He rode often with Ori, reminiscing of the few happy days they had spent in the library of Rivendell, and Ori told him of the grand libraries of Erebor. "Though I imagine Smaug has burned all the books to ashes," Ori said sadly, "but they say the shelves were carved of the most beautiful white marble, and those may have survived."
Other times, Bilbo rode with Kili, and to his delight, Fili would often join them. Though it was not exactly merry, it was at least comfortably companionable, and Fili and Kili shared very many stories of their youth. Bilbo found these tales of Ered Luin entrancing, and it was fascinating too to hear the differing viewpoints the two dwarves had of the same events — after all, they had grown up in the same house, though in very dissimilar circumstances. He was also very pleased that Kili and Fili seemed to grow easier and easier in each other's company, as they had on that quiet night in Lake-Town, though Kili was still deferential to Fili and there were topics they would not broach with each other.
When they finally reached the mountain, it was exactly as ominous as it had appeared, but frustrating as well, for look as they might, they could find no evidence of a secret door. And look, and look and look they did, for days and days, and all the time the end of autumn grew closer and closer. Bilbo and Fili and Kili looked the most, for the two young dwarves had the keenest eyes in the Company except for Bilbo himself, and also Fili and Kili were the spryest of the lot.
"What do you think Thorin shall do?" Fili asked one day when it was just the three of them, up on a ledge so high and thin and inaccessible, they had had to rope themselves together and climb one at a time just to reach it. Bilbo sincerely hoped they would not find the door there, for surely there was no way the rest of the company could reach it — certainly not Bombur nor Dori!
"What do we think Thorin shall do about what?" Bilbo asked sourly. It was quite windy on the ledge and he was not at all pleased to be there, scrambling over loose rocks, even with his hobbit feet to keep him steady.
"If we cannot get in," Fili said, as if it were the most obvious thing in all Middle Earth. "Durin's Day is nearly upon us."
Kili was slowly and methodically examining the rock wall; he looked over at Fili with a frown, but did not say anything.
"He shall have to give up," Fili said, answering his own question. "At least for this year. And as we cannot stay here for the winter, I suppose we shall have to return to Lake-Town. But certainly the Master will not host our Company for another full year — he was more than a little happy to see our backs. We shall have to work, or perhaps journey on to the Iron Hills to our kin."
Kili's eyes flashed up at this, while Bilbo gasped in dismay. "The Iron Hills! There is nothing in my contract about the Iron Hills."
"I suppose you could stay in Lake-Town," Fili said, though he sounded highly doubtful as to the wisdom of this plan. "Do you have any skills besides burglary? You will have to earn your keep until you can find someone to take you back to the Shire. Of course, you would need to pay for that."
Now, Bilbo was a Baggins and a Took besides, and the Baggins were a very respectable, hard-working family who invested their money wisely and carefully; the Tooks were great explorers, and Bilbo would not be the first of that line to return from an adventure toting gold — if he should survive and they were successful, of course. And what all of this meant was that Bilbo was a very well-to-do hobbit indeed who had never done a day's paid work in his life.
"I certainly have no idea how I should earn my keep," said Bilbo dejectedly. "Unless someone would pay me to blow smoke rings."
Kili snorted, and Fili cast him an amused glance. "Then we had better find the door," Fili said, "or you shall end up on the streets of Lake-Town, and we shall come back after the winter to find you shriveled and dirty and quite wasted away."
"Do not tease him so," Kili said absently, but then his eyes widened in alarm and he stiffened, all good humor quite suddenly gone. Bilbo stiffened too, for it was clear that Kili believed he had crossed some line, and while Bilbo didn't think Fili was in a position to mete out punishment, he certainly could — and probably was required to — tell Thorin.
But Fili just shrugged, very deliberately casual, and he said merely, "You are right. That was cruel. I apologize, Mr. Baggins." And then he turned back to the wall and started peering closely at the same rocks they had been examining for two hours, as if sheer force of will would divine some new secret from them.
Kili stayed stiff and still for a few more minutes, then he breathed deeply — if unsteadily — and turned his attention back to the rocks. But he was uneasy the rest of the afternoon, and his attention kept darting to Fili, who in turn was nearly manic in his good cheer, and would not let Kili finish a single sentence all the rest of the day.
They made their way back to camp just as the sun set, and Kili grew unhappier still, for Thorin asked for a report, and all Fili said was, "Same as yesterday. Rocks and more rocks, but no door." Then he very deliberately did not look at Kili, who stood to the side, looking tense and hunted, clenching and unclenching his fists.
Kili said not a word during dinner, which was hardly unusual, but he barely ate, which was unusual, especially after a day of climbing up and down the mountain. After dinner, he bolted to the ponies, though they needed no tending, for all they had done the whole day was stand around and eat the thin grass.
Bilbo approached very carefully. Kili was brushing the ponies' hair with very furious strokes, and his jaw was clenched hard enough that Bilbo's ached in sympathy. "I brought you half of my cake," Bilbo said cautiously. This was his custom, since Kili was not usually given dessert, but no one seemed to mind what Bilbo did with his share, and sometimes Bilbo thought that Bombur gave him the biggest cake of all on purpose.
Kili stood straight and still, and to his horror, Bilbo saw that he was trembling. "No thank you, Mr. Baggins," Kili said stiffly. "I have little appetite for sweets tonight." His grip on the brush was like steel.
"Come now, my lad," Bilbo said, very softly, though no one was close enough to hear. "It cannot be so bad as all that."
Kili muttered something under his breath and swiped viciously at the pony, who whinnied softly in protest.
"Kili–?"
Kili sighed. "Fili should have told Thorin. He should not have kept it quiet, what happened this afternoon."
"But — what you said, it was nothing. Certainly no reason to be punished."
"That is not Fili's decision to make," Kili said. "It is Thorin's. And you are wrong; I should not have spoken to him thus. It is just — it is hard. You confuse me, the way you speak to me, and Fili too, and even Ori now, and I forgot–"
Kili did not finish his sentence, but turned his attention back to the ponies, brushing with furious concentration.
Bilbo waited a little before prompting, "Forgot what?"
Kili frowned deeply. "That I cannot speak to them the way I speak to you. You are not a dwarf. Before this trip I would never — I have never been punished for speaking out of turn, not since I was very young. I always knew what I could and could not say. I learned it very early."
"But it was nothing," Bilbo said. He sounded a little desperate in own his estimation, but Kili was so very upset. "Fili didn't even care."
"He still should have told Thorin, and Thorin could have decided whether it was worth a punishment or not. Even if it was, it would not have been severe. Thorin is not cruel; he follows the letter of the law and no more. But now Fili has kept it secret when he should not, and so I must keep it secret too, and that is worse than the crime itself! But neither can I tell Thorin, when Fili has made it clear he does not want me to. He is not my shemor, but he is Thorin's heir, and I must obey him—" He grunted in frustration.
"Well," Bilbo said, quite unhappily. "That is certainly a mess." He chewed at his lip a little and twiddled his thumbs, neither of which inspired any great thoughts. So instead he said, "There is nothing for it tonight. Perhaps tomorrow you can ask Fili to tell Thorin. Unless you think he would be punished for withholding the truth?"
"No," Kili said, as if the idea was completely ridiculous.
"Then that shall be the plan," Bilbo said, "and there is no need to think more on it now. In the meantime, I think you should eat the cake I brought, for you ate little enough dinner and tomorrow will be another hard day of climbing."
After a pause, Kili accepted the cake, though he ate it without any great pleasure, and Bilbo suspected rather miserably that Kili had only taken it because he felt he could not refuse. This was of course the very last thing Bilbo wanted, for if there was anyone among the whole Company Kili ought to be able to refuse, it was Bilbo! Bilbo ate his half of the cake with an equal lack of enthusiasm, and took himself to bed very early.
He awoke feeling only a little better, for his sleep had been restless and filled with uneasy dreams. Kili had already set off for the day accompanied by Ori and Nori; Bilbo could just make them out on a distant rise, scuttling carefully over the rocks. Thorin had already set off with Balin and Dwalin, but Fili was still abed so Bilbo supposed no one had done any talking to anyone about anything.
This improved Bilbo's temper not at all, so he sat himself down next to a small creek and set about washing off the worst of the grit and grime. He had not bathed properly since they had left Lake-Town, and felt almost unconscionably filthy.
"Why, Mr. Baggins," came Fili's voice, "if you scowl any harder, you shall etch those lines permanently into your brow."
"Oh!" Bilbo said, in some surprise, for he had not heard Fili approach. "This dust is being quite stubborn, that is all." He scrubbed a little harder at his forearms, with disappointingly little effect.
"Hmm," is all Fili said. He sat himself down next to Bilbo, and ran his fingers idly through the cold water. "I should believe you, but that you have been frowning most fiercely since yesterday afternoon, and you are not the sort to let a little dirt bring your spirits so low."
"Actually, I am just that sort," said Bilbo primly, "and this is not a little dirt."
"Hmm," Fili said again. He dribbled some water on his own forearm; it left tracks of deep brown where the dirt turned to mud, but Fili made no move to wipe the mess away. "And here I was quite convinced it was me you found so bothersome."
"I-" Bilbo began, but then stopped, for he could not argue that his frustration with the dirt was far less than his frustration with Fili and Kili and Thorin, and all dwarves by extension. "Well. I would not lie to you, Master Fili. I am a bit upset."
Fili nodded thoughtfully. "Some would say," he said, "that I am quite the most unheedful dwarf to ever live, that a mountain could crumble beside me and I would not notice unless I were hit by a falling boulder."
"Oh," said Bilbo. "I should not say that!"
"No, you are far too polite," Fili said with a grin. "But you must have thought so, if it took me 30 years to realize that Kili would throw a game of cards rather than have me lose."
"Well," Bilbo said. "You were very young."
"And he was very crafty," said Fili. "He would win a game here and there, you see, but never a match. I thought I won because I was older and cleverer."
"You did not think he lost because of the bad luck that came with being khazd khuv?"
"Perhaps," Fili conceded, "when I was younger, and did not know better." He dribbled a little more water on his arms, then sat in silence for a moment watching the muddy drops fall to the ground. "You think I ought to have told Thorin about what happened yesterday."
"I would not presume. I do not understand your customs well enough," Bilbo said, and indeed he did not. In truth, he felt he understood them less well as time went on! "Kili certainly thinks you should have."
"Yes," Fili said with a sigh. "He always does."
Always! Bilbo's mouth fell open and stayed open for several moments, until he closed it with a snap.
"Our laws bind shemor and khufud very tightly," Fili said. "But I am neither of those, and have more freedom than either." He looked sideways at Bilbo. "So I shall hold my tongue and Kili shall be angry at me for a little while; I would rather that than have him beaten for letting slip a few careless words. He knows his place more than well enough already. "
Bilbo could only nod in agreement, for this was certainly true.
"You see, I am not quite so blind as everyone thinks," Fili said, "nor quite so thoughtless." He rose to his feet and brushed off his trousers ineffectually. "I think I shall head to the rocks now, Mr. Baggins, before the sun rises any higher."
Bilbo stared after Fili, then returned to his washing, though he was quite distracted and sloppy, and left hardly any cleaner than he had been before. He remained distracted for the rest of that day, and was of hardly any help whatsoever, for he kept finding himself staring off into space until some dwarf or another would tap him on the shoulder to draw his attention back to the task at hand.
Then, miraculously, when the sun was starting to set and their spirits were setting with it, they stumbled across what was most certainly the secret door! Though they could not immediately devise any means of opening it, the company grew loud and boisterous and excited, and so they remained for another few days, until their failure to open the door made them all glum and irritable again. Thorin was in an especially foul temper, and the cousins Ur started muttering under their breath and casting superstitious looks in Kili's direction when they thought no one could see. "They think it's my fault," Kili said to Bilbo. "But I suppose Thorin does not, or I should already have been thrashed."
"I still do not see how they can believe you responsible for every little bit of bad luck that comes around," Bilbo said grumpily. It was late afternoon on Durin's Day, and everyone was in the lowest of low spirits.
"I don't think most of them have ever given it much thought," Kili said, in what to Bilbo appeared entirely too careless a manner. "Dwarves are not such a race of thinkers as hobbits. We are a busy folk."
Bilbo grunted — a loathsome habit he had picked up from the dwarves. He could just imagine Lobelia's scandalized look if he grunted in her presence! "Hobbits are busy too. It is just that we can manage to think and be busy at the same time."
"A mind at half-attention works only a quarter as well," Kili said. "Or so Mr. Balin would ever tell Fili, when he was thinking about his sword work whilst he should have been studying his runes."
"Daydreaming is not the same as thinking," Bilbo said archly. Then he asked, for he had been quite curious ever since they escaped from Mirkwood, "Balin taught you to read, you said?"
Kili nodded. "Thorin employed him to teach Fili, and so he was often in the house. When my chores were done, I would sometimes sneak into the back of the classroom and hide in the cupboard. Balin used to tell stories, you see, of great battles and wondrous deeds of the kings and warriors of old. He was a gifted storyteller, or so he seemed to me. If I was very quiet, Balin would pretend he didn't notice I was there."
What a lot of pretending there had been in that house, Bilbo thought, a little uncharitably.
"When he was teaching Fili to read," Kili said, "Balin would wait until I was there, and then he would write the letters extra large on the board, so I could see even from the back. And he would leave Fili's old books in the cupboard, and I would sneak in sometimes after my early morning chores were done and study them before anyone else was awake. I don't think I should ever have learned, if not for him. Many dwarves don't."
Bilbo thought of the crowded schoolroom of his youth, the brightly colored picture-books, and the class sounding out the names of all the flowers and trees that could be found in the Shire, and the animals, and the foods they loved most of all. And he thought too of his mother, sitting by his side, reading his favorite tales of elves and fairy-magic, giving him a kiss on the cheek or a pat on the head every time he learned a new word. And though he did not tear up, he could not help his throat growing tight; he swallowed hard against the sadness and forced a weak, wobbly smile. "That was nice of Balin."
Kili nodded. "He was kind. He made my life a little easier when he could. He believes khazd khuv are to be pitied, not shunned."
"Then he does not believe you are cursed?"
"Well," Kili said, brow furrowed, "I am not sure I could go that far. Dwalin does not doubt it at all, and they are brothers. But Balin believes we are all of us cursed in some way, I think, and so he is more comfortable around me than his brother. Dwalin would not have me in their house when I was a child." Kili shrugged. "If you look, you will see he sits as far away from me as he can, without it being obvious."
"I don't know how you bear it," Bilbo said. "It seems so very lonely."
"Maybe to you," Kili said. "I never thought so. It was a very simple way to live. I knew who I was and what I was meant to do. And I had a warm, safe place to sleep, and clothing on my back, and enough food so I did not go hungry — there are others whose circumstances are far worse."
Well, Bilbo supposed that was true, though he did not know of anyone, for in the Shire everyone had family, and everyone was loved by someone, even if some were liked less well than others. But he knew too that not every place was a bountiful as the Shire, and not every race as caring and protective as hobbits. "You said it was a simple way to live. Do you feel differently now?"
Kili frowned. "Everything is much more complicated now. I am — less certain of my place. That is partially your fault, Mr. Baggins."
He said it without heat, but Bilbo still flinched a little, and blushed. "I am sure I did not mean to make your life complicated, Master Kili."
"Are you?" Kili asked, eying him keenly. "Are you really quite sure of that?"
Well, Bilbo certainly had no good answer for that, for if he was honest with himself, he had been resolved from the very first to pour sense as he saw it into Kili's head. But now he could not imagine what he had been thinking, to interfere in something that he ill-understood and had no stake in, but that he had perceived an injustice and set about rectifying it in a very naïve manner indeed.
They were sitting in front of the secret door, away from the others, who were quite sick of staring at the impervious stone and were milling about waiting for the miserable day come to a close. Bilbo's thoughts were quite gloomy indeed: his talk with Kili had left him deeply unsettled, and to make it worse, the sun was setting and it seemed they had failed in their quest at the very end, after such a long and arduous adventure as no hobbit had ever seen. Bilbo felt a proper failure from head to toe, in fact, and was regretting for the hundredth time his silly, impulsive decision to leave his warm and cozy home, when the very last rays of the setting sun fell upon the plain rock wall.
There was a loud crack. A flake of rock split from the wall and fell. A hole appeared suddenly about three feet from the ground.
"Kili," Bilbo cried, jumping to his feet. "Kili, look, do you see? Do you see?"
And Kili looked, and saw! He called quickly for Thorin, and Thorin and all the other dwarves came as fast as they could, for Kili's voice was loud and trembling and excited. The dwarves all exclaimed upon seeing the keyhole that it had been the very best of luck that Bilbo had been sitting right there, just at that moment — of course they did not say anything about Kili being there at the same time, but Bilbo had already decided that he would say no more on matters of khazd khuv, at least unless someone asked him directly.
Anyway, Bilbo was truly quite excited as the rest, and they all watched eagerly as Thorin stepped up and drew the key on its chain from around his neck. He put it to the hole. It fitted and it turned!
A great cry rose from the dwarves, and they gathered to push at the door, straining against it until it opened slowly. All that could be seen inside was blackness, and not a sound could be heard. Outside, the last rays of the setting sun disappeared behind the mountain, and they were surrounded now by darkness in front and darkness behind.
A/N:
I do apologize for the relative tardiness of this chapter. Work commitments got the better of me. Plus I had a feeling something was missing, which utimately proved to be the Fili and Bilbo conversation - which my tireless beta SapphireMusings has not seen, so I hope it doesn't have too many mistakes.
Thanks always for your comments! They brighten my day, truly.
Coming up next ... into the mountain (cue the ominous music).
