Under the Mountain

by MildlyInsane

This story tells a slightly different version of Thorin's reaction to learning that Bilbo has given the Arkenstone to Bard. In his anger, the dwarf hurts the hobbit both physically as well as emotionally. The other dwarves, (specifically Balin,) must keep Bilbo safe from Thorin until the King Under the Mountain comes to his senses.

2. Chapter 2

Thank you so much for the reviews on my previous chapter. I hope you like this one as well.

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The hobbit and dwarf didn't speak much as Balin led Bilbo down the long, quiet halls of Erebor. Bilbo really didn't know what to say. At this point he felt a strong sense of regret, not for anything he really felt he did wrong, but for the situation in general. He didn't mean to upset Thorin. He was trying to fix things, not make them worse. And all he had gained for his efforts were bruises and hurt feelings.

Balin glanced behind them briefly, likely to be sure Thorin could no longer see their location, "This looks like a nice, safe spot for you, Bilbo," Balin offered a small smile as he pulled open a wooden door and clapped Bilbo's shoulder.

With an exhausted sigh, Bilbo followed the dwarf into the room and sat down on a small bench which was set up along the wall. The space seemed to be a storage room of some sort, and the bench may have actually been a shelf. The room had a few shelves on other walls, and some wooden boxes littered the floor.

Things did not go at all how he had hoped. By now, Bilbo feared that Thorin may never forgive him, or get over his gold sickness. Maybe war was inevitable at this point. It wasn't really Thorin's fault, and Bilbo tried to remember that, but he still felt hurt, and in more ways than just the places the dwarf had hit him or grabbed him too harshly. His feelings hurt, for the fact that his friend had been so unforgivably angry with him. Bilbo didn't always care if people liked him or agreed with his actions, but Thorin was one of the few people whose opinion of him really did matter. Hearing Thorin's harsh words, speaking of Bilbo's betrayal and greed had hurt. Feeling his harsh hands hurt in more ways than one. Bilbo felt regret for his actions. He wished he had never found the Arkenstone, even though he didn't feel like he had done the wrong thing. Thorin's opinion was that important to him.

As he sat on the bench, or shelf, or whatever it was, the hobbit looked down at his hairy feet, which failed to reach the floor, as Balin lit several small lamps around the room.

"These ought to warm the place up a bit, and give us a little light," Balin spoke in a comforting tone as he lit the last lamp and turned back toward Bilbo, "now, let's have a look at you," he offered as he knelt down in front of the hobbit and took the halfling's small hands in his own larger ones, "he had a pretty hard hold on you, didn't he?"

The hobbit still stared at his own toes, as he often did when he was avoiding conversation. He felt so wretched. He should have been stronger than this. He should have known his plan wouldn't work, and he shouldn't have cried in front of the dwarves, and particularly not in front of Thorin. Even if the dwarf king wasn't presently disgusted by Bilbo's actions, he would have certainly been by the hobbit's weakness. The dwarves never cried. Not right out in the open in front of everyone at least, and certainly not over a little punch to the side of the face.

Balin pushed Bilbo's sleeves up gently as the hobbit still remained silent, "it doesn't look like anything's broken, lad, so that's good news," the dwarf spoke as he ran his fingers gingerly over the halfling's wrists and forearms, "though I can see bruises coming up on your skin already."

Bilbo shrugged, "I'm okay," he said with a sigh, but still refused to meet the dwarf's stare. He didn't want to risk becoming emotional. Speaking too much about this would probably only result in more tears, and he had embarrassed himself enough by this point.

"What happened, Bilbo?" Balin wondered as he moved to sit down next to the hobbit. The dwarf put his hand lightly on Bilbo's knee and leaned forward to make eye-contact with him, "Bilbo?"

Bilbo considered turning his head away, so he wouldn't have to look into the kind dwarf's eyes. Balin's care and concern might just break the fragile hold Bilbo had over his emotions. But the hobbit felt not meeting the dwarf's gaze would only make things awkward, and would only make Balin worry more, so he looked up and forced a smile that he truly did not feel genuine about at all, "I'm fine, Balin, honest," Bilbo lied, "just a bit shaken up."

Balin didn't look convinced, "I could tell he was hurting you, Bilbo, and he had no right. You don't need to lie to protect him. There's no use. I can see he did something," Balin reached toward Bilbo's cheek, causing the hobbit to flinch away slightly. Balin froze in place for a moment, looking into Bilbo's wide eyes before touching his fingers gently to the hobbit's face, wiping away the remains of tears, "your tears give you away, lad."

Bilbo looked down, "I thought I could reason with him. You told me giving him the Arkenstone would probably make him worse, so I didn't give it to him. I had it all along."

"I had thought you might," Balin smiled, "and your efforts were brave, and not necessarily unwise. It was an attempt at least, when nothing else was working."

"He wouldn't listen to me, Balin. He was so angry," Bilbo frowned, "he kept shoving me, and I understood how he'd feel betrayed, but I didn't think he'd go so far as he did. I understood his anger, and I'm not upset with him for shoving me. He's under the influence of the gold. It's not his fault. It's the gold."

"You're right," Balin frowned, "the Thorin I know would have never hurt someone like that for such a small perceived injustice. You didn't take the stone out of malice or greed, but as an attempt to bring peace. I only hope he can overcome this before even more damage is done. He will surely regret how he has treated you once that time comes."

Even hearing these reassuring words from Balin, and even knowing himself that Thorin was under the enchantment of the hoard of treasure, it was still impossible for the hobbit not to take the dwarf king's actions at least a bit personally. This wouldn't have happened to anyone else. Thorin wouldn't have hit any of the dwarves or threatened to throw them over the wall. He was too close to them, and they were on even ground. A fight between two dwarves would have been equal. A fight between Bilbo and Thorin would have been pitiful. Of course, Bilbo hadn't fought back against the dwarf, but if he had, things would have probably only ended worse for him.

Yes, this whole mess could have only happened to the poor little hobbit. Bilbo was the one who stood out, the weak link who didn't belong. Even when Bilbo thought he was finding his place among the group, it was clear he was different from them. The hobbit truly was in danger of being tossed over the wall, a threat the dwarves would have probably laughed at if Thorin had threatened them with it. Bilbo couldn't defend himself like the dwarves could. Throin certainly never failed to make Bilbo feel excluded. The hobbit held his breath and tried to stay calm, but his emotions were flooding back. Thorin had scared him, hurt him, and threatened to end his life. No matter why the dwarf had done it, Bilbo felt betrayed.

The hobbit kept his gaze on the ground as he struggled to keep his emotions from boiling over. He refused to make eye contact with Balin again just yet, as his features would surely betray his emotional anguish.

"You okay, Bilbo?" Balin spoke, putting his hand lightly on Bilbo's shoulder. Bilbo didn't answer as he focused on keeping his tears repressed, "Bilbo... are you hurt? You can tell me the truth. I can try my best to mend any injuries you have. I could see he was hurting you as he held you in the hall, and I might venture a guess from the presence of your tears even before that moment that his harsh grip on you then wasn't all that he tormented you with. What hurts did he inflict upon you? There's no shame in telling me."

Bilbo felt his lip tremble as he contemplated answering Balin's questions. His arms and wrists did hurt, but he knew they weren't broken. Thorin had tugged and twisted his arms quite harshly, probably nearly harsh enough to dislocate his shoulders, but not quite. Bilbo's cheek and jaw and knees hurt, but the only marks he would bear from any of it would be bruises. Though it was the harshest anyone had ever handled the poor little hobbit, it was nothing Balin could mend. And his emotional pain was far worse, and far more impossible to quell.

"Lad, you're shaking," Balin, leaned down so he could better see the hobbit's face.

With that, Bilbo could no longer suppress what he felt inside. With a pained sob, reached out to Balin, who gladly enveloped him in a hug, rubbing soft circles on his back and speaking soothing words.

"There, there," Balin comforted the trembling hobbit, "whatever Thorin did you to, he didn't mean. He cares deeply about you, and I would hope you won't take his actions personally. This whole business isn't about you, or even about him, but about the gold and its power to change people, to turn them into monsters they certainly never would have been on their own."

Bilbo continued to sob into the elder dwarf's chest, trying with futility to keep his tears out of Balin's coarse, white beard. When Bilbo still didn't move to speak, Balin continued to try to offer him some sort of words of comfort, "you have every right to feel upset and hurt, but know the real Thorin, the reasonable Thorin who you know, wouldn't do this to you. He would have no desire to. You have not wronged him. No matter what he said to you, this is in no way any fault of your own. Everything will work itself out in time."

Bilbo sniffed as he tried to compose himself, but the moment he began to talk, his crying became even more unmanageable. Telling Balin what had transpired would, in a way, be reliving the whole event, but the hobbit needed to talk this out, to reassure himself that he hadn't deserved this, that he hadn't in fact betrayed Thorin as the dwarf king had claimed, "he shoved me over and over," Bilbo spoke between shaking sobs as he allowed Balin to hold him close as the dwarf listened to the hobbit's words, "and I kept trying to explain to him," Bilbo sobbed again, "but he wouldn't listen, and it just made him more enraged," Bilbo sniffed back tears, "He even punched me... I was just trying to get away from him. I didn't even fight back," tears streamed down the hobbit's face, "I didn't want to hurt him back. It wasn't the Thorin I knew who was hurting me, but it was the me he knew. I couldn't hurt him. I didn't know what to do..." he choked back a sob and finished with a small, hurt voice, "how do you fight off an attacker when he's your friend?"

Balin shook his head, "we should have known not to send you off alone with him. I'm sorry no one stepped in sooner. I could see his anger. I just didn't know he had allowed himself to be pushed down that far into his sickness. I expected that he might have some harsh words for you when he requested that the two of you speak alone. Even then I was reluctant to send you off with him. I was naive to expect he would treat you with the gentleness a well-meaning hobbit deserves."

"I was so scared, Balin," Bilbo sniffed back tears as his sobs quickly died down, "he said he'd throw me to the rocks if Bard didn't give back the Arkenstone, and as much as I would have liked to believe that Bard would indeed return it, or that the rest of the dwarves would stop Thorin, I couldn't be sure. Everyone is overcome with greed over this wretched gold, and with fear of Thorin's behavior... When Gloin acted like he would help Thorin deliver me up to the wall," he sniffed back more tears, "well... I thought maybe Gloin was angry with me too. I really thought that Gloin was standing with Thorin, that he'd help throw me over the wall if that's what Thorin asked. I thought for sure that I was doomed."

Balin's warm arms were still wrapped around the hobbit's thin shoulders, "I wouldn't have let him throw you over," Balin promised, "and neither would the rest of them. They respect you a great deal, Bilbo."

Bilbo sniffed again, "I only wish Thorin still did."

"He does, lad," Balin promised him, "there's a good chance he respects you most of all. He just can't see it at the moment. When his mind becomes unclouded, he will remember what you've offered to the quest, and his respect will return to you, where it rightfully belongs."

"I hope so," Bilbo agreed as he leaned his head against Balin's chest and breathed in steady breaths, "I'm about sick of all this."

Balin offered a small laugh, but it was more exasperated than amused, "as are we all... But maybe the steps you took are the first in getting him to see reason once more."

The hobbit and dwarf stayed silent for the few moments that followed, still embracing each other. For the first time in a while, Bilbo really did feel like things might be alright. They certainly weren't yet, but perhaps they may be eventually. Balin made him feel safe, even when he truly wasn't. They were still at the brink of war, and Thorin was on the brink of complete madness, if he wasn't already completely mad. But Balin caused Bilbo to feel assured that he would be okay, and that everyone would be, all in due time.

Bilbo leaned against Balin as he was finally able to feel somewhat at ease. It was only then that he realized just how exhausted he was. He hadn't had much sleep in days upon days, and the one good night's sleep he was offered at the camp of men and elves below, he had declined when he sneaked away early in the morning in favor of returning to the mountain. He supposed he should have listened to Gandalf on that one... The wizard knew Thorin's reaction wouldn't be manageable. Now Bilbo had not only upset Thorin, but had missed out on much needed sleep.

The little hobbit was unable to suppress a yawn as he thought about this. All this would certainly make him appreciate his bed in the Shire all the more.

"Would you like me to leave you to get some rest?" Balin offered.

Bilbo shook his head as he gripped Balin's shirt in his hands, "No..." he really didn't want to be left alone. What if Thorin found him? "could you stay a little while longer?" The hobbit asked, "Please?"

"Of course," Balin smiled down at him and hugged him closer.

"I wish I were stronger," Bilbo sighed as he loosened his fingers from the dwarf's shirt, now content that he wasn't going to be left alone.

Balin furrowed his brow, "you're certainly strong for a hobbit," the dwarf reminded him, "no one expects you to be a warrior, Bilbo. I don't think you have anything to be ashamed of."

"Thorin couldn't have made any of the others cry like I did," Bilbo frowned, "I must have looked ridiculous."

Balin offered a small, dry chuckle, "you aren't the first to have been brought to tears by Thorin's actions as of late," he promised, "I don't doubt each member of our company would understand how you felt in regard to feeling frustration and disappointment by Thorin's behavior, and they would certainly understand your tears. I can promise you none of the dwarves will think less of you for that."

Bilbo smiled, "thank you for defending me, Balin," Bilbo spoke as he closed his tired eyes, "and not just today."

"You're quite welcome, lad," the hobbit could hear a smile in the dwarf's voice, "try to rest easy, knowing that there will always be one of us to defend you, if defense is what you need. We're hardly strangers at this point. We're a family."

Keeping his eyes closed, Bilbo furrowed his brow. He knew the dwarves considered each other family (as many of them were in fact related,) and Bilbo considered all the dwarves to be close friends, but did they really see him as family, as an equal to themselves and each other?

"Don't you worry about a thing, Bilbo," Balin rubbed his arm softly.

Bilbo sighed a content breath, "thank you, Balin," he said again in a small voice as he felt sleep overcoming him.

The dwarf held him close until the hobbit finally gave in to his exhaustion, and everything around him faded to darkness.

xxxxxx

Balin frowned as he looked down at the little hobbit curled up and breathing softly in his arms. His small friend seemed to have fallen asleep a few minutes before. Now, instead of hugging his arms around the dwarf or gripping his clothing with the intensity a child fearing abandonment might, Bilbo had gone mostly limp, and looked for the most part quite peaceful. He leaned against Balin now, while the dwarf kept him secured in a warm embrace.

When they had begun their journey, Balin knew it was going to be a difficult one, for everyone, but most of all for the smallest member of their company. Bilbo was not accustomed to living the way of a traveler. He had lived such a quiet, calm, comfortable life up until this point, and surely had never envisioned himself sleeping in cold, wet caves, foregoing multiple meals a day, facing dangerous foes, and seeing so many new and terrifying creatures he never even knew existed. Bilbo most certainly wouldn't have expected to be treated with such discourtesy, by anyone, much less by those he considered friends.

It was a real shame, Balin thought, that Thorin was so far away from himself. Seeing his king's descent was heartbreaking; Thorin was treating his kin worse than most would treat an enemy, and unfortunately had just taken out a majority of his anger on the smallest, weakest, and most innocent in their group. Balin himself could have taken a swing from Thorin without it breaking his heart entirely. He wouldn't have liked it, but he could have taken it anyway. He had been on this earth long enough to know that sometimes friends turned on each other, or said or did things they did not mean. No matter how much a friend's betrayal hurt Balin, he knew he had seen it countless times before, and wouldn't have been so hurt as Bilbo had been.

Out of everyone who could have been shown the ugliest side of gold sickness, Bilbo was the worst possible candidate. Balin could picture many of the dwarves simply walking away from Thorin if he had treated them as he had treated the halfling. Some may have yelled back at him, or even fought him. But Bilbo seemed to have just tried talking. The hobbit claimed he never fought back. He just kept trying to talk sense into the dwarf king, having faith that his friend, no matter how angry he seemed, wouldn't hurt him. Bilbo had been wrong. His tendency to see the best in his friends and to trust them with his well-being had caused him to feel betrayal no one so innocent should ever have to feel.

Balin glanced back down at the hobbit as Bilbo made a small whimpering noise and curled himself into an even smaller ball than he already had been squeezed into. The dwarf frowned, searching the sleeping hobbit's features. Bilbo's brow was furrowed and he seemed to be frowning very slightly.

Sighing, Balin put his hand lightly on the hobbit's shoulder, hoping to offer him some comfort in his tortured sleep. Balin had no doubt that every single member of their company felt tremendous disappointment by now. They had all traveled so far, and once it seemed they were finally in the clear, and that their goal had been achieved, everything had gone wrong. Thorin couldn't see past the gold, wouldn't deliver the shares to the people of Laketown or the elves, and was now turning even on his own. He had immediately showed more care for finding the Arkenstone than for the comfort or well-being of any of his company, and was no longer treating anyone with much respect. Everyone felt betrayed by him... But seeing the hurt in Bilbo's eyes broke Balin's heart. Bilbo seemed to be the last to lose faith in Thorin. Everyone else was coming to expect poor treatment from the dwarf king. Bilbo had been devastated.

Every one of them seemed to feel hopeless in bringing Thorin back from the edge of madness. Bilbo maintained hope, and took a chance. He gave Thorin's Arkenstone away, and instead of staying on the other side of the wall, or even just hiding afterwards, knowing Throin's wrath would be strong, Bilbo had come back and quickly confessed. He never realized how dangerous Thorin could be. Not until now.

As much as Balin would have liked to stay here with Bilbo, he needed to be sure things were going well outside the confines of this tiny room. Had Thorin come to an agreement with Bard? Would those on the other side of the wall request Bilbo be safely delivered to them? In that case, should Balin allow it? Bilbo would likely be safer out there, but could he make it safely passed Thorin? Balin needed to be informed. Unfortunately, he'd have to leave Bilbo in here by himself for a while, but with any luck, the hobbit would stay asleep and would never know the dwarf had even gone away.

Balin moved slowly and cautiously, lifting Bilbo's head slightly as he stood from the bench and then laying it carefully back down on the wooden planks. He then took off his own cloak and wrapped it into a makeshift pillow, positioning it under Bilbo's head and lightly brushing a few curls off the hobbit's forehead.

Bilbo twitched slightly and moved his hand weakly in front of himself as though grasping for something. Balin frowned as he watched him. Did the hobbit know he had gone already? The dwarf felt his shoulders immediately slump when he noticed a bruise forming on Bilbo's jaw. That was simply awful. It would have been horrible enough if an enemy had made that mark, but it hadn't been an enemy; it had been a friend, and that made Balin's heart break.

He put his fingers lightly on Bilbo's cheek. Thorin must have hit him pretty hard.

The hobbit whimpered as he flinched away, squeezing his already shut eyes closed even tighter and shrinking down into the corner created by the wooden bench and the stone wall, "no," Bilbo's tiny voice begged, "I'm sorry... I can get it back... just let me go back over the wall..."

"Shhh," Balin shushed him, putting his hand lightly on Bilbo's shoulder.

"Don't throw me over," Bilbo gasped in unconscious confusion as he shrunk away from Balin's touch.

"No one's throwing you over anything," Balin assured him, "you're staying right here."

Bilbo's eyes fluttered open, but he still looked confused for a moment, "Balin?"

"Aye, lad," Balin smiled down at him, "you're alright. Go back to sleep."

Bilbo stared at him, "are you leaving?" his voice almost shook.

Balin sucked in a breath, "no," he lied, kneeling down in front of the hobbit and putting his hand on his shoulder, "I was just looking for you a blanket. There's got to be one in one of these boxes, I'd think... Or at least a large overcoat," now that he said it, that really didn't seem like such a bad idea. It was quiet cold in the stone room, regardless of the lamps he had lit.

"Oh," Bilbo yawned and laid back down and closed his eyes, "good. Please don't leave," he added in a tired mumble.

The dwarf frowned as he began sifting through the boxes in search of a suitable blanket, listening as the hobbit continued speaking. Balin could tell he was exhausted by the tone in his voice, the fact that he kept yawning in the middle of his sentences, and the fact that he frequently paused as though searching for the end of his thoughts.

"I don't know," Bilbo yawned, "how you all go so long with hardly any food or sleep."

Balin smiled, "I seem to sleep just fine. I thought you had gotten used to the snoring by now."

Bilbo offered a tired chuckle, "I don't mind the snoring so much," he yawned again, "I could sleep pretty much," he paused. Balin glanced over to him. The hobbit's eyes were closed, "wherever," he finally finished his thought. Or maybe he hadn't been finished, as he continued on from there, "I could have slept through every one of you snoring," he yawned yet again, "it's all the early rising, sleeping in rain and puddles... those awful wolf howls in the middle of the night..."

Balin narrowed his eyes. He hadn't heard wolves during the night for quite a while. Bilbo must have been speaking of the journey as a whole and not of recent events, "you should get some peace and quiet for now anyway," the dwarf promised, finally finding an old blanket and taking it out of the box it had been stored in for years upon years. Fortunately, the box had been closed, so the item hadn't accumulated dust.

"My bed back home will be like heaven," Bilbo noted.

The dwarf smiled, "I'm sure it will be, lad."

"There's probably beds in here," Bilbo noted, "this mountain is quite large," he paused, "so many... rooms... beds..."

Balin draped the blanket over the hobbit's small form and watched as Bilbo snuggled under it. He observed the halfling for a moment, but Bilbo didn't seem to be awake any longer, "Bilbo?" the dwarf whispered. When he received no answer, he carefully made his way over to the door, opening it slowly and closing it behind him. Bilbo would be fine without him for a while while he sorted through things out here. Hopefully the hobbit wouldn't wake up until after Balin returned.

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I'm planning on wrapping up this story in the next chapter. From the beginning, this was meant to be a very short little tale. As much as I'd like to go on and on and make more situations arise, I fear in that case I may accidentally keep going without direction and end up with a very long, very unfinished story. Sometimes it's best to stick to the original plan and write a shorter, better story, than try too hard to go forever and end up with a mess... Though maybe I would be interested in trying a longer story soon... maybe... I'm loving this whole "Thorin is a huge prick but then gets over it" plot line... and even the "Everyone is protective of adorable-Bilbo" plot line... Perhaps another Hobbit story will be in the works from me after I finish this story, that is, if I can think of a good one...