Day Six

Dwalin had rarely seen Thorin as angry as the dwarf was when Ori told them of the way Dain had tried to fool Kili into joining his house. Mixed with all that anger, there was also barely concealed fear in his friend's eyes and Dwalin could easily tell that the mere idea of losing Kili was making Thorin quite distraught.

Dain had been in trouble with Thorin before, but now Thorin's anger had been taken to a new level – now that Dain had got one of Thorin's boys involved in this, there was no soothing Thorin, no holding him back. There was an air of wild fury around Thorin, he almost looked like a mountain bear protecting its young ones. Dwalin was quite certain that not even Balin would dare to try and defend Dain this time if Thorin decided to physically harm the dwarf.

"I will change the law as soon as I am crowned," Thorin was currently swearing with as much vehemence as he seemed to be capable of in his weakened state. "I will make it so that contracts and agreements are only binding when the people signing them are in full possession of their faculties and when there are at least two impartial witnesses present."

"The Rule of a Fool is ancient," Balin reminded him with reluctance, looking disdainful as if the words tasted bad in his mouth. "There are many powerful dwarves who would not see it changed. Some merchants have built most of their trade around the Rule of a Fool."

"Precisely," hissed Thorin through gritted teeth. His knuckles were white from the way he clenched the edge of his blanket in his fists. "The Rule of a Fool is all about exploitation! It's dishonourable! I do not approve of it. I will not tolerate it. As soon as I have the power to do so, I will see that shameful law changed."

The Rule of a Fool was an addition to the Law of Contracts and Agreements. Dwalin's knowledge of the subject wasn't nearly as comprehensive as his brother's, but even he knew the basics when it came to the Rule of a Fool.

Dwalin knew that the Rule of a Fool mentioned Foolers and Fools. The person who was trying to fool another to sign a contract was called a Fooler, while the person who would sign the contract of the Fooler was called a Fool. In the ancient times, dwarves had thought that stupidity deserved to be punished – if someone was foolish enough to sign a document that might potentially be harmful to them, they deserved and needed to learn a lesson of cautiousness the hard way round. If the Fooler managed to fool the Fool into signing a document, the law was on the side of the Fooler, on the side of the person who had been clever or cunning enough to make the other person to sign the document, to teach the Fool a lesson.

There were, of course, a few exceptions to the Rule of a Fool. For one, the rule only applied to dwarves who were of age. In the addition of that, the Fooler wasn't allowed to use violence, threats or blackmail, or in any other way to force anyone to sign contracts. Contracts were only binding if the person signing them was doing so of their own free will, but Dwalin had heard of several cases in which the Fool had argued that they had been forced to sign the contract by the Fooler. The trouble was, it was often impossible for the Fool to try and prove that the Fooler had broken the law and so the law usually sided with the Fooler.

All in all, Dwalin considered the Rule of a Fool senseless, complicated and cruel.

"If it ain't fair and just, it shouldn't be a law either," he now muttered, sprawled on his back on a roll mat that had been fetched for him after he had announced that he would prefer to stay in Thorin's tent to keep his cousin some company (or, rather, to have his cousin to keep him some company while he waited for sleep to claim him).

"I'm sure," said Balin, frowning first at Dwalin, then at Thorin, "that we are among those who would see the law changed, but that doesn't change the fact that many influential dwarves would oppose the change without hesitation. You shouldn't begin your reign with too many drastic changes, Thorin, or your reign might come to a tragic end sooner rather than later."

Dwalin couldn't stifle the prick of worry his brother's words created in him and he glanced at their cousin, frowning. He had learnt to heed on Balin's advice, Balin was as wise and intelligent as he was intuitive. Balin was good at seeing the wide picture, unlike Thorin who rarely stopped to think of what kind of consequences his actions would have. Dwalin did wish for the Rule of a Fool to get changed as soon as possible, but if Balin warned against rapid changes, Dwalin listened to his brother – neither one of them wanted any harm to come to Thorin, after all.

Thorin, however, didn't seem worried for his own sake.

"The Rule of a Fool I will change as soon as I have the power to do so," he repeated in a low, steady voice, as stubborn and prideful as ever.

"Changes should be done gradually, laddie," Balin still dared to try after a moment of silence, but Thorin had already made his mind up and all there was left for Balin to do was to shake his head and sigh in a resigned manner.

Thorin sent for Dain then, but it took the guards such a long time to bring the lord into Thorin's tent that Dwalin, exhausted, fell asleep on his roll mat before he could see the exchange between Thorin and Dain. He snored through the entire meeting, but he dreamt of thunder storms, roaring bears and terrified peasants which he later assumed was some kind of a reflection on what had been happening around him while he had slept.


Day Seven

When Dwalin came to after having slept through an entire day and night, it wasn't yet quite midday, sunny though it otherwise appeared to be. He yawned and scratched his belly, blinking sleep from his eyes. He was used to getting up fast – unlike Balin who liked to sleep late whenever he got the rare opportunity to do so, Dwalin had never seen the point of lingering in bed after waking up – and so he was soon standing by Thorin's bed, fully clothed, eating the gruel someone had left on the bedside table for him (well, the gruel had probably been left there for Thorin, but Dwalin had never been one for semantics).

Thorin was sitting up on his bed, writing something furiously on a parchment that had been placed on his lap on a wooden writing board. When Dwalin glanced down at the parchment in between spooning up the gruel, he saw that Thorin was making drafts for the law that would replace the Rule of a Fool. Unsurprised, Dwalin sighed to himself. It was obvious that Thorin was once again tasking himself far too hard, but Dwalin didn't really know what to say to his cousin – had there been an orc trying to attack Thorin, Dwalin wouldn't have hesitated to put himself between Thorin and the blade, but when it was Thorin himself that was causing Thorin harm... well, Dwalin didn't know how he should have dealt with that. Thorin could be difficult like that at times.

"The entire point of you lying on that bed is that you should be resting," Dwalin eventually grumbled when he couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Morning greetings to you too," said Thorin drily, not even glancing up from the parchments.

Dwalin tried to think of something else to say, but his brain hadn't yet caught up with his body and appeared to still be somewhat asleep. He wanted to ask about the situation with Dain, but didn't want to upset Thorin needlessly by reminding him of whatever had happened between the two cousins.

By the time he had finished Thorin's gruel, he was nevertheless ready to form his next sentence.

"Have you been resting at all during the time I've been asleep?"

Thorin snorted.

"How could I have when there has been a wild boar snoring in my tent since yesterday morning."

Dwalin frowned and put the empty bowl onto the bedside table.

"If you didn't sleep," he said, "you should have woken me up so that we could have changed places. I was the one that actually rested so I could have put your bed to good use instead of just sitting on it like it were a chair as you have done."

He didn't really mean his words, he wouldn't have taken an injured Thorin's bed even if offered, but Dwalin wasn't above making Thorin feel guilty in order to get him abide to his wish, to make him rest.

Sadly, the ruse didn't work, not this time.

"I need to finish this," Thorin grunted, referring apparently to his writing, not even bothering to look at Dwalin, "so why don't you just go back to sleep, Dwalin, or to Rivendell, or wherever your feet will take you, and let me work in peace."

"No need to be rude," said Dwalin with a frown, poking the candle on the bedside table with his forefinger to have something to do with his hands. "And yes, I do agree that you will need to finish that, but you don't have to do it at this instant. In fact, it will be weeks before the crowning ceremonies will be held and you have till then to finish all that. There's nothing you can do to the Rule of a Fool before you have the crown on your head, Thorin, so you might as well rest for a while and-"

That was apparently the wrong thing to say since the quill in Thorin's hand – clenched fist, as it now was – snapped in half and Thorin turned his blazing eyes to Dwalin (who wasn't a coward in any sense but still couldn't help but blink and swallow at the intensity that was aimed solely at him).

"I am aware of my limitations," said Thorin, his voice low and cold as ice. "There is no need for you to remind me of my helplessness, of my- of my inabilities. I've almost lost Kili twice in less than a fortnight, once by the blade of a filthy orc, once by my own cousin due to this pathetic excuse of a law. My nephew was saved on both occasions, but it pains me to think that there might be other uncles who have lost their nephews and nieces because of this law. It is truly the Rule of a Fool, but fools are the ones that use the law to exploit others, not the ones that have been exploited – my Kili is no fool and anyone who claims otherwise will answer to me! It is my duty to see this so called 'law' changed as soon as possible. I cannot find peace until I have done so."

Thorin's eyes had an odd shine to them and it wasn't until now that Dwalin noted the way Thorin's face was glowing, the way drops of sweat were rolling down his forehead, the way he seemed to have difficulties in focusing his gaze on any one spot for longer periods of time.

"Your fever is rising again," said Dwalin with frustration, ignoring – for the time being – the little speech Thorin had just given. "Is no-one looking after you when I'm sleeping or otherwise occupied? Nevertheless, I better go get Oin. And you better put your head on that pillow and close your eyes, you dolt – you wouldn't want your nephews to lose their uncle to fever, would you."

Dwalin found Oin in Bilbo's tent a few minutes later, and since the hobbit didn't yet show any signs of regaining consciousness, Oin followed Dwalin out of the tent after adding some firewood into the stove and after putting the larger one of his healer's bags under Bilbo's bed where it would be easy for the healers to find if needed.

It was but moments after Dwalin and Oin had exited the tent that Bilbo came to, but the dwarves weren't there to see it and so they remained unaware of the change in Bilbo's condition.


Oin was even less impressed with Thorin's wish to work than Dwalin had been. As soon as the old healer saw Thorin sitting up on the bed, he began to huff, and by the time he was close enough, he snatched the broken quill from Thorin and ordered Dwalin to take the parchments out of Thorin's sight. While Dwalin was happy to do just this, Oin let Thorin know what he thought of the dwarf's behaviour.

"Such foolishness," Oin declared. "All the trouble that I have been through to keep you alive, to help you to get better – and you decide to waste all that, to risk your health time and a time again. Did I not tell you to lie on your back, Thorin, to stay still? I did! And what do I find when I come back? I find you sitting up and working! I have already told you that I have better things to do than to spend my time by arguing with you. I have other patients, other duties, but yet you keep on wasting my time with your antics. You are just as foolish, unruly and stubborn now as you were when you were but a twenty-year-old dwarfling."

"I am nothing like that anymore," argued Thorin, clearly offended, and Oin used this opportunity to put a spoon full of medicine into his open mouth, causing Thorin to give a bit of a startled cough at the (most likely) bitter, disgusting taste.

While Thorin and Oin argued whether or not Thorin was well enough to do something other than to rest on his back, Dwalin felt the nature calling and left the tent for a visit to the disposal pits, trusting Oin to look after Thorin for the time being.

After he was finished with his business at the pits, Dwalin buckled his belt and went to see if he could find some more food for himself as well as for Thorin. Gruel was nourishing enough, but one bowl of it hadn't been enough to satisfy his hunger and he doubted Thorin had eaten much of anything either.

On his way to the cooking area near Dain's tent, which was located on the other side of the clearing opposite of Thorin's tent, Dwalin ran into Nori. After exchanging morning greetings, they decided to go to a more private area next to the makeshift stables to exchange news. Once there, Dwalin told Nori of Thorin's condition, after which Nori told Dwalin of what had happened between Thorin and Dain the previous morning. Even though Nori hadn't been supposed to be in that meeting in the first place, he was apparently somehow well aware of everything that had taken place and could even give Dwalin some details – for once Nori's abilities to sneak around unnoticed had been of use to Dwalin, too.

Although Dain hadn't committed a crime when he had tried to coax Kili into joining his house, Thorin – according to Nori – considered his deeds a betrayal which didn't surprise Dwalin in the least. As far as Dwalin himself was concerned, Dain truly had betrayed Thorin by trying to take Kili from him. Thorin had lost enough during his lifetime as it was and Dain must have known how dear Fili and Kili were to Thorin, how beloved and adored the boys were by their uncle. In Dwalin's mind, there was no excuse for Dain's deeds.

It looked like Thorin had agreed with Dwalin, as Nori now told Dwalin that the dwarf had ordered Dain to pay for his betrayal with manual labour. While manual labour itself wasn't shameful in any way – quite the opposite, in fact – it was a well known fact that the Lord of the Iron Hills despised work that required him to strain himself. Dain had never shyed from voicing his opinion of the fact that he considered all those who laboured manually beneath him. He had never seemed to understand why Thorin had "lowered" himself to work as a simple blacksmith in the villages of men, not even after Balin had explained to him that the settlement in Ered Luin was in need of food, clothes, medicine, equipment – money, to put it simply – and that the good example Thorin set to his dwarves as well as his workforce were both desperately needed. In any case, to punish Dain with manual labour was as dire a consequence as Thorin could have possibly given to his cousin over his recent actions.

It was with these thoughts that Dwalin parted from Nori, giving the dwarf a few friendly, rather awkward pats on the shoulder, after which he headed once more towards the cooking areas.

Some time later when Dwalin approached Thorin's tent with a suitable amount of food on his arms, he was met by a sight of Oin shouting at the two guards in front of Bilbo's tent. The guards – Gamur and Pimur, sons of Mur, good lads the both of them, a few decades older than Fili and Kili, their hair red like fire – looked startled and so very ashamed that Dwalin knew in an instant that something was wrong.

Dwalin marched to Oin, doing his best to ignore the distracting scent of bacon that floated into his nostrils from the bundle on his arms, and came to a halt in front of the three dwarves, towering over them expectantly. He didn't have to ask what was going on, for as soon as he was noticed by the old healer, Oin turned to him and began to explain the situation in a rather worried, albeit exasperated manner.

It turned out that Bilbo Baggins had ran away, yet again.

For a short moment, Dwalin simply stared at Oin, not quite grasping the meaning of the healer's words, while Gamur and Pimur stared at their feet, shame-faced. With a deep growl, Dwalin then turned to the tent, swiped the tent flaps aside with one impatient move of his arm and entered Bilbo's tent with the sole purpose of seeing for himself if Bilbo Baggins had truly run away, yet again.

Oin and the two guards were quick to follow after him.

It only took Dwalin one quick glance to determine that Bilbo Baggins really wasn't in the tent. There was nothing in the tent but the embers in the stove and the abandoned bed with the contents of Oin's overturned healer's bag scattered over the crumpled sheets. Bilbo's clothes had disappeared from the drying rack and even the mithril shirt was gone from the bedside table.

As soon as these realizations sunk in – as soon as he became convinced that, yes, Bilbo had, indeed, run away again – Dwalin let out a litany of his strongest cursewords, causing both sons of Mur to wince, while Oin went to the bed to gather his equipment from the bed.

Pimur cleared his throat, looking at Dwalin pleadingly.

"We would have noticed if a hobbit – or anyone – had went pass by us, Sir," he said quietly but with conviction.

"That so?" Dwalin's words were barely more than a growl, with such frustration he was gritting his teeth.

"Yes, Sir," Gamur hurried to agree with his brother, already looking about the tent in a slightly desperate manner. "Master Hobbit did not go pass by us. He must have found another way out."

"Find this 'another way', then," Dwalin ordered and the sons of Mur scurried to do just that, both of them hurrying to inspect the tent walls and the ground as if assuming that Bilbo might have dug a hole somewhere.

Dwalin was worried for Bilbo and beyond frustrated for the way the feverish hobbit had been let to slip away after all the trouble Dwalin had been through to bring him back to safety, to Oin's professional – if somewhat curt – care. Dwalin was worried for Thorin's sake as well and feared how the cousin would react if he was to hear that Bilbo had gone missing once more. Thorin was in no condition to go looking for missing hobbits, he had been put through enough stress already in the recent days as his deteriorated condition well proved, but if Thorin heard of Bilbo's disappearance, he would disregard his own health in order to look for his friend.

Thorin would feel responsible, Thorin wouldn't listen to reason, Thorin wouldn't think of consequences.

"Elven poets and lustful kisses of rotten orcs!" Dwalin swore in Khuzdul with feeling, kicking the drying rack. The rack hit the ground some yards away with a satisfying crash, making Gamur, Pimur and Oin all give a start, but Dwalin's mind wasn't focused on that. No, all Dwalin could think of was the way he would have to keep Bilbo's disappearance from Thorin again, for Thorin's sake.

This time, Dwalin knew, he was going to lose his braids – though his hair was currently the last thing on his mind, in all honesty.

"Blunt daggers and rusty axes..."

Gathering himself, Dwalin tried to push his emotions to the back of his mind to focus on the situation at hand. Taking a few calming breaths, he pressed a hand onto his side pocket. The magic ring he had taken from Bilbo for safekeeping was still thankfully in his pocket, he could feel its shape through the fabric. Slipping two fingers into his pocket, Dwalin felt the smooth, cool metal. It felt important to use his sense of touch to confirm the fact that the Ring was still in his possession. It was his to guard, after all. He didn't want to lose it.

As the Ring was in his pocket, Dwalin could now conclude that Bilbo was still visible which meant that it was possible for dwarves to see and to locate their missing hobbit.

They had at least something on their side, it appeared.

"Master Dwalin, Sir," young Pimur called just then from the back of the tent. "I know how Master Hobbit left the tent – there's a cut in the canvas here, large enough for a hobbit to slip through."

There was, indeed, a cut in the back wall of the tent, just big enough for someone of Bilbo's size to slip through. The canvas had been cut with something sharp, Dwalin noted with foreboding, since the cut was clean and as the fabric hadn't yet unraveled. A cut like this couldn't have been made with a piece of broken glass or with some kind of a blunt piece of metal.

"The scalpel has disappeared from my healer's bag," said Oin, studying the cut in the canvas, before exchanging a wary glance with Dwalin. "Bilbo must have found it and taken it with him. I believe he used my scalpel to make this cut."

That sounded plausible enough.

"Looks like Baggins has managed to arm himself," Dwalin grumbled with growing frustration, feeling like punching Dain, and not for the first – or the last – time.

"He's armed?" said Gamur, sounding startled. "Should we... should we take further precautions, Sir? Is Master Baggins dangerous?"

"What do you think?" snapped Dwalin, losing his patience – he was yet to even eat a proper breakfast, and really, he took a bit of a nap and first Thorin's condition deteriorated and then Bilbo decided to disappear yet again – was he not allowed to sleep anymore! "Baggins is scared for his life, he's desperate and armed with an object that's primary function is to cut bodies open, so you can bet your hairless ass that Baggins is currently the most dangerous person in this entire camp."

With that, Dwalin began to take action as Thorin's Most Trusted Warrior should.

"Oin," he said, "give me an update on Bilbo's condition. How ill is he?"

Oin frowned in thought.

"I was able to bring his fever down a bit," he said, "but I would assume that it would spike up again now that he believes that he is running for his life. The wounds on his face and legs were infected and the infections will only get worse now that he's no longer under my care. There is a high chance of dehydration and frostbite, and his head wound still worries me. The faster you get him back here, the better."

Dwalin gave a nod and thrust the bundle of food on his arms to Oin.

"Have someone take this to Thorin, will you," he asked. "I ate his gruel and he must be hungry by now. If he asks, tell him that I'm with Baggins, but don't give him any details. Under no circumstances let him know that Baggins has gone missing. If need be, give Thorin something to make him fall asleep. I will take full responsibility later. Go to Balin as soon as you can and tell him of Baggins' situation. He will know what to do."

With his arms now empty, Dwalin turned to the sons of Mur, motioning for them to follow him.

"You two come with me. We will try to track Baggins down."


The entrance Bilbo had cut in the tent canvas was just big enough for a hobbit like Bilbo but too small for a dwarf as bulky and muscular as Dwalin, and so it happened that Dwalin could only fit his head through the cut but couldn't force his shoulders through until Pimur took a knife and made the cut large enough for all of Dwalin to slip through it.

With a lot of swearing and cursing, Dwalin managed to crawl outside, the tent swaying a bit due to his movement. The sun was shining and the white snow was so blinding that he had to squint as he scrambled up to his feet. There was a cooking area behind Bilbo's tent and Dwalin was now well aware of the way the cooks were all staring at him – apparently it was somewhat unexpected that Prince Thorin's Most Trusted Warrior – the imposing Dwalin, son of Fundin himself – would suddenly appear before them. The cooks had probably been alerted by Dwalin's loud curses and had thus seen the way he had been stuck in the tent wall for some moments.

By this point, both Pimur and Gamur had exited the tent after Dwalin and so Dwalin now gave Pimur a curt order to go and question the startled cooks on whether or not they had noticed any hobbits that day. He assumed that the cooks hadn't noticed anything but the contents of their pots and pans, but if he wasn't thorough now, he might well find himself regretting it later.

Pimur did as he was told, while Dwalin focused his attention on the snowy ground. There were clear signs that someone had been crawling on the snow, it was as if a giant worm had been by, leaving a path on its way. It didn't take much power of deduction to conclude that Bilbo had been using the cover of the snowdrifts as he had crawled away from his tent.

Worry gnawed at Dwalin, frustrated though he was as well. Bilbo was bound to be wet and freezing after such crawling, Bilbo's condition could be growing steadily more critical by the moment. The hobbit needed to be found fast so that Oin could take good care of him.

Quelling down his emotions, Dwalin motioned for Gamur to follow after him, as he began to jog along the trail Bilbo had left behind.

The trail led to one of the tents of Dain's warriors. There was a hobbit-sized cut in the canvas of the tent, similar to the one that Bilbo had made in his own tent, and Dwalin used this new entrance to crawl inside (after using his dagger to make the cut somewhat larger to fit through it). Inside the tent, Dwalin found Bilbo's wet trousers disregarded on one of the cots which made him wonder whether Bilbo was running around the camp without any trousers on – a half-naked hobbit in a camp of dwarves, that should draw some attention.

Someone was bound to find Bilbo sooner rather than later. Dwalin could only hope that Bilbo wouldn't feel desperate enough to attack anyone with the scalpel.

There was another cut on the opposite side of the tent, and it soon became obvious that Bilbo had used the cover of tents to get further away from his own tent. He had sneaked into a tent after tent, leaving only a trail of distinct footprints and the cuts in the tent walls after him. Dwalin couldn't help but wonder, impressed, whether all hobbits were as clever and resourceful as their hobbit or whether Bilbo was above average when it came to cleverness and hobbits. In any case, Dwalin now proceeded to follow after his missing friend with Gamur trailing after him in an attentive manner.

Tent after tent Dwalin followed after Bilbo, determined to get the hobbit back to the healing tent as soon as possible. He passed through more tents than he cared to count, most of them currently unoccupied, though Dwalin managed to interrupt some rather private moments as well. He even startled a few lovers in the peak of their passion by poking his dagger through the canvas wall in a quite literal sense.

(Grut and Lipki were very much in love. Since they both had a break from their chores at the same time, they decided to spent the time together in their tent. As soon as they entered their tent, their lips pressed together in a passionate kiss, and tunic after tunic they undressed each other.

At the peak of their passion, a grumbling noise could suddenly be heard in the next tent, followed soon by some cursing. All of a sudden a blade of a dagger was poked through the tent canvas, and before neither Grut or Lipki had time to even give a start, His Highness' Most Trusted Warrior, second son of Fundin, Dwalin Gurundhin – The One Who Doesn't Give Up – crawled unexpectedly into the tent, all the while swearing, a dagger in one hand, a pair of wet trousers in the other.

Dwalin, second son of Fundin, brother of Balin, cousin of Thorin Oakenshield, scrambled up to his feet, smoothed down his clothes and gave Grut and Lipki an acknowledging nod.

"Afternoon greetings," he said with a bit of a bow, before marching pass by Grut and Lipki to the opposite wall, a heavily armed, blushing guard following closely after him.

As Grut and Lipki watched, too stunned to return to the greeting or to even unwind their entwined bodies, his lordship Dwalin slashed the tent canvas and crawled out of the tent with the young guard, the wet trousers trailing along the ground after him.

Once the two dwarves had disappeared and Dwalin's curse words were no longer audible, Lipki and Grut closed their gaping mouths and turned to look at each other.

"What was that?" they both asked, but neither had the answer.)

Finally Dwalin and Gimur reached the last tent of the row, and when they crawled out of the tent, they found themselves in the Main Road where several curious glances were given to Dwalin who ignored all the attention he was being given.

"Where did Master Hobbit go from here?" Gamur wondered out loud, but Dwalin had no answer.

He soon crawled back inside the tent and then outside again, studying the ground with a close eye. It looked like the hobbit's trail ended right there at the last entrance he had cut for himself, but obviously Bilbo had to have went somewhere from there, even if Dwalin had yet no idea where he had gone to. If Bilbo had dared to walk on the Main Road, surely someone would have seen him? Surely Dwalin would have somehow been informed of it by now?

Who knows how long Dwalin might have lingered there, bewildered and frustrated, hadn't a group of riders unexpectedly approached him along the Main Road. Dwalin was initially too occupied with Bilbo's footprints to pay the riders much mind, despite of the way all the other dwarves in the Main Road moved aside to allow the ponies to pass, but as soon as the riders noticed Dwalin standing there staring at the ground, they brought their ponies to a halt by him which was enough to alert him of their presence.

Dwalin looked up and saw Balin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur, Nori and two guards he had seen before but didn't know by name sitting on their ponies, grim-faced and visibly troubled, looking down at him. Bofur and Gloin kept shifting on their saddles impatiently as if eager to keep on riding onwards, while the other riders were frowning in a worried, angry manner.

"I assume that you've heard that Baggins has gone missing," said Dwalin, going straight to the point as was characteristic to him.

"We have," said Balin, wincing. "We are now looking for him, brother, and you better come with us."

"I'm following his tracks already," said Dwalin, gesturing to the ground. "I know he was here at some point."

Balin gave the ground a passing, absent-minded look as if Bilbo's tracks were of little interest to him. Dwarves in the Main Road were giving the small group curious glances and Balin gestured Dwalin to come closer. Once Dwalin was close enough, Balin bent down on the saddle and said in a low voice as if to keep the other dwarves from hearing, "We have reason to believe that Bilbo is no longer in the camp."

"What kind of reason?" asked Dwalin, keeping his voice just as low, looking searchingly in his brother's eyes.

"Bilbo's been abducted," Gloin put in hotly, ignoring the admonishing look Balin gave him for his words. "The bastard couldn't take his punishment and so he took the cart and kidnapped Bilbo and left the camp with him."

It turned out that Bilbo hadn't been the only one to disappear that day: Not too long after Oin had told Balin of Bilbo's disappearance, reports had come in informing Balin that Dain Ironfoot had been seen leaving the camp. Someone had apparently seen Dain driving a wagon out of the camp, towards the camp of elves, and since it wasn't wise for anyone to leave the safety of the camp alone by themselves, worried onlookers had decided to report the matter to the guards who had then come to tell Balin that the lord of the Iron Hills had driven away.

Balin had then put one and one together and come to the conclusion that Bilbo and Dain's simultaneous disappearances might well have something to do with each other.

"Can it be a coincidence that Dain decides to leave the camp just as Bilbo disappears?" Nori said darkly. "I could bet all my hair that Dain leaving the camp has something to do with Bilbo."

"Bilbo might have encountered Dain at some point during his escape and things could have escalated from there," Bofur agreed. "To me, it looks like Dain blames Bilbo for his unpleasant situation and so he took the opportunity to take revenge on Bilbo."

They were both talking quietly as to make sure that they weren't overheard – Dain's dwarves all around them wouldn't have taken kindly to someone accusing their lord of kidnapping.

"We do not yet know for certain what happened," Balin reminded them all, "and we shouldn't condemn anyone before we do. Our first priority is to now locate Bilbo and Dain and to find out what happened."

"Buzun-ghar," said Bifur which probably meant that he agreed with Balin, even though the direct translation of his words would have actually been "foot cave".

Dwalin turned his attention back to the ground, back to Bilbo's footprints. He studied the ground with a careful eye. A wagon had come to a halt by the tent, that much was clear from the tracks, but he hadn't paid the fact any mind before now. Could it be that the wagon that had halted here had been Dain Ironfoot's? Could it be that Ironfoot had noticed Bilbo peeking from the tent and had thus brought his wagon to a halt by the tent? Had Dain forced Bilbo onto the wagon? Considering that Bilbo was ill and scared, it might not have been too difficult for Dain to use his stronger form to force Bilbo onto the wagon despite of the scalpel Bilbo had armed himself with, but if that had happened, surely someone would have noticed something. There would have been quite a lot of witnesses on the Main Road, after all.

"We should be moving already," said Bofur in an uncharacteristically impatient manner, tapping his fingers against his thigh. "The longer we stay here, the longer Bilbo will be alone with Dain."

"That bastard has abducted our hobbit," Gloin spat on the ground.

By Balin's order, one of the two unfamiliar guards dismounted her pony and allowed Dwalin to take the reins. Dwalin quickly mounted, advising simultaneously Gamur and the female guard to continue the search of Bilbo on the Main Road, just in case Balin's knowledge of Bilbo's whereabouts would turn out to be false.

A minute later, Dwalin and the other six dwarves were riding after Bilbo and Dain.


A/N: I'm *so* sorry that it has taken me such a long time to update. My only excuse is that my studies have kept me busy and that I've had to write so much other stuff that my eyes really haven't thanked me for looking at the screen any more than I've been forced to. If you're still reading this story, I thank you for your patience.

I've almost finished the next chapter so it shouldn't take too long for me to update it.