A Very Respectable Hobbit

by TheThirdStar

Bilbo Baggins is going on an adventure and along the way he might just learn that being respectable isn't all it's cracked up to be. A look into how Bilbo got to know and befriend the dwarves and maybe, just maybe, come to care for one in particular. Slow burn Bagginshield, rating may change.

23. Chapter 23

A/N Whhhhhoooops this really wasn't supposed to take that long to get out but life just went BAM and everything got super busy :O Sorry about the delay and I hope you enjoy!

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After the raven finished speaking there was a moment of utter silence. Bilbo could hardly believe his own ears as he felt the breath of his lungs leave him in a shocked gasp. 'Smaug was…' But he couldn't even finish the thought, it was too… easy.

Fili seemed to collect himself first and moved forward so he was standing right in front of Bilbo, his blue eyes fixed on the dark bird.

"What did you just say?" The dwarf's face was drawn with disbelief.

Bilbo felt the raven shuffle irritably on his head, claws scraping at his scalp before it croaked out a reply. "The dragon Smaug is dead, Master Dwarf."

As the raspy words poured out from Roäc's beak, what it had said finally seemed to sink in. The hobbit's eyes were wide as saucers when they sought out Thorin's. Their leader's face was blank. Apart from his mouth being slightly agape, Bilbo would've thought that Thorin was feeling nothing at all. But that wasn't completely right… The hobbit could feel his thoughts start lurching back to a normal speed when he noticed that Thorin's skin was a white as parchment. The dwarf blinked once before he seemed to fall to his knees, his body collapsing into itself.

"Thorin!" Bilbo cried out, rushing forward and causing the raven to take flight with a startled screech as its perch stumbled away.

The hobbit was almost sure he'd heard Fili and Kili shout as well but his eyes and his mind were focused solely on Thorin, on making sure his friend was all right. Bilbo caught their leader under his arm before Thorin could slump all the way to the ground. Pulling up with all the strength he had, Bilbo righted Thorin until the dwarf's nephews appeared on either side, supporting their uncle with matching faces of concern.

Bilbo knelt in front of his friend and placed a hand on either side of Thorin's face. "Thorin," the hobbit hissed urgently, "Thorin are you alright?"

The dwarf's blue eyes blinked once more before they slowly moved down to focus on Bilbo. "The dragon is…" but he trailed off in a daze.

"Dead," Bilbo gave his friend's head a little shake, hoping that no one in the general vicinity was about to faint, "Smaug is dead, Thorin." The hobbit smiled, feeling hope well up inside him with glorious warmth, "Erebor is yours."

Then all at once, Thorin looked as if he finally saw Bilbo and the color rushed back, "Erebor is mine…"

Thorin's face broke out into the brightest smile Bilbo had ever seen, like all the weight of the mountain had finally been born off his shoulders, and it took his breath away. This was the dwarf Bilbo had seen that day he'd saved Thorin from the pale orc. This was the king under the mountain. This was the man he loved.

"Erebor is mine."

Bilbo nodded feeling the hope inside him unfurl into something so much warmer and infinitely more amazing.

Something final shifted in Thorin's eyes and the darkness that had been clouding them since the moment Bilbo had met him seemed to drain away and it felt like it was the first time he had truly seen Thorin's true face unburned by years of guilt and anger.

The dwarf stood up suddenly, shoving his arms under Bilbo's and gripping him in the tightest hug the hobbit had ever received, "Erebor is mine!"

Bilbo let out a yelp as he felt his feet lift off the ground and suddenly he was spinning as a noise escaped from his friend. It was deep and rough and… no, it couldn't be… But as he feet finally connected with the stone again, Bilbo realized that it most definitely was. Thorin was laughing. Not just an amused grunt or the small chuckles he'd heard before. This was a true laugh, bright and free and as the sound entered his ears and swam through his head, he might have fallen in love all over again.

On some level Bilbo registered that the company was cheering and letting out whoops filled with relief as they amassed on each other in celebration, but all his mind seemed to be able to concentrate on was Thorin tightly gripping him in his arms as the dwarf laughed and laughed. The hobbit's face was buried in Thorin's chest and he felt joyous sounds start to pour out of his mouth as well.

Smaug was dead! And they hadn't even gotten so much as a burnt hair to get it done! Well, his coat had been scorched a bit, but in that moment Bilbo would have gladly let every coat he'd ever owned be turned to a crisp without a second thought. No one… no one was dead and that was all that mattered. The hobbit had known if they'd faced the dragon with just fourteen, it… well, it would not have ended anywhere near well. But Thorin was here, he was here and they were all alive and whole and healthy.

Thorin had his home back, the home they had journeyed so long for. The home that had haunted his friend's dreams, the home Thorin had missed like some sort of phantom limb that had been cut away in his youth.

Bilbo felt two other pairs of arms circle them and knew that it was Fili and Kili by their twin laughs, one slightly lower and one slightly higher but each one half of a whole. Then he heard Dwalin and Balin and Bofur and soon the whole company had gathered around them. The hobbit craned his neck up to see that Thorin was beaming down at him, a grin plastered on his face and so much life in his eyes that Bilbo couldn't help but clench his own shut. He tried to sear that image of Thorin, that exact moment into his mind because it was, in every possible way, perfect.

Despite the loud cheers around them, Bilbo still heard Thorin's quiet whisper in his ear, "open your eyes."

The hobbit did as he was bade and opened them, satisfied that he would never in his life forget. Thorin grinned down at him with a happy abandon Bilbo would have scarcely hoped to ever see on his friend's face.

"Glad to see you're finally listening to me, I am your king now."

"You're the king of Erebor, not the Shire." Bilbo chuckled as he hit Thorin lightly in the shoulder, "don't get a big head."

"Erebor could be your home now," Thorin lowered his face so their lips were barely apart, "…I could be your king."

Bilbo's eyes widened slightly as he tried to pull away slightly. Him?… Live in Erebor? The hobbit hadn't thought about after. Well of course he had, but it was always so abstract that a part of him, a large part, had accepted the fact that he probably wouldn't be going home to Bag End at all. Being a pile of ash on a far away stone floor and all that. But never because he chose not to go home. Could he… could he really leave everything behind and just stay? He wanted to be with Thorin, he wanted that more than anything but…

"Think about it," the dwarf spoke quietly as if sensing why Bilbo had hesitated.

Thorin moved forward and claimed the hobbit's lips for a moment in a gentle kiss before pulling back slightly, "we have time enough now."

"Oh, Mahal damn it!"

Bilbo's face turned suddenly to see Kili glaring at him.

"Do you know how many blasted daggers I owe Fili now, Master Boggins?"

The hobbit couldn't help but laugh at Kili's pout, "A whole set?"

"Yes that's right, a whole set – wait, how did you know that?" Kili's glare shifted to where Fili was grinning wickedly at his brother from Bilbo and Thorin's other side, "you already knew, you little prat!"

The young dwarf reached out so his arms were resting across Thorin's so he could grab Fili's braids and yank his brother closer even though there was little room to move, "And just when were you going to tell me?"

Fili reached up to his brother's hands and did something so quickly Bilbo only caught Kili's indignant yelp as his let go swiftly and glared. "And ruin all my fun, brother dear," the blonde dwarf winked, "not a chance!"

Thorin's face had gone from confused to what could only be described as severely unimpressed as he frowned at his nephews, "you boys weren't betting again, were you?"

Fili and Kili gave each other one quick glance before they turned sickly sweet and very practiced smiles towards their uncle, "of course not, uncle, we wouldn't even dream of it," Fili spoke as Kili nodded in agreement.

"Good. You know how your mother hates that." Thorin finally let go of Bilbo as the rest of the company started to pull away from their group hug.

"She hates it when she isn't involved," Bilbo heard Kili whisper in his ear just as a forgotten Roäc screeched loudly above them.

The company looked up at the bird, startled by the noise. "If you all are quite done," Roäc croaked before landing back on Bilbo's head, "I was not finished."

"The thrush tells me a host of men from the town on the lake are journeying towards the Lonely Mountain—"

"What for?" Dwalin cut in gruffly, his familiar scowl back in place.

Bilbo wasn't sure that birds even could sigh with irritation, but he was almost positive at that moment the raven probably wanted to.

"Let him finish, Dwalin," Thorin said as the smile on his face grew serious, clearly not pleased that there was more news other than the dragon's demise.

"Thank you my king," Roäc ruffled his feathers, "As I was saying, men are journeying towards the Lonely Mountain with the elves of the Mirkwood –"

"What?" Thorin's eyes widened as he his expression grew instantly dar and furious, "why are the elves coming –"

When the raven's claws dug much deeper into Bilbo's skull than he was altogether comfortable with, the hobbit shouted over the rising voices of thirteen dwarves, "Enough! Just let the raven finish!" Bilbo placed his hands on his hips as he glared at the company, "so it can get off my head," the hobbit could help but mutter angrily at yet another painful pick of talons on his skin.

The dwarves fell silent as Roäc spoke up again though sounding none too happy about it, "King Thranduil led his people to aid the men of Laketown against the dragon."

Bilbo glanced over to Thorin knowing this was going to do nothing but infuriate his friend. The dwarf's hands were tightly fisted and his eyes held the same furious anger they had when Bilbo had found him in the cells of Mirkwood. That Thranduil had led the elves to help Laketown against the same dragon that had destroyed Erebor was not going to sit well with Thorin, not at all.

"The Elf-king thinks the mountain is abandoned and the dragon's gold –"

"My gold," Thorin snarled, acid dripping off every word.

"Your gold," Roäc corrected, "unprotected. The thrush tells me Bard the Bowman still believes the hobbit Bilbo Baggins to be alive and so sent it to inform him that should he receive this message, the men of Laketown wish to treat upon their arrival on morrow's morn. Bard desires gold to repair damages caused by the dragon's wrath."

"I will speak with Bard," Thorin's voice was almost shaking with barely contained fury, "but tell him –" the dwarf took a deep breath as if trying to calm himself but doing a rather poor job of it, "tell him if the elvish scum thinks about trying to lay claim on even one piece of gold, he will find Erebor's doors closed to them for as long as the line of Durin rules within these great halls."

"Uncle," Fili gently placed a hand on Thorin's arm, his face tight with concern, "are you sure it's wise—"

Thorin pulled away from the touch, his furious eyes shooting down to his nephew's face but seemingly seeing nothing there to change his mind before fixing his gaze on the raven once more.

"I would sooner see the elves make war on our gates than let them even look at my gold. Bard comes alone or he doesn't come at all. Go, Roäc," the dwarf ground out between clenched teeth, "tell them of my wisdom."

"As you wish, my king." And with that Roäc flew off down the dark hallway from whence he came. The thrush hopped once on Bilbo's shoulder, nipping him lightly on the ear one last time before following the raven down the twisting stone halls of Erebor.

Bilbo and the rest of the company stood in stiff silence, though the hobbit's eyes were fixed on Thorin, watching his friend take deep breath after deep breath.

"Thorin…" Bilbo stepped in closer hesitantly, "I'm sure we could all reach some sort of agreement. Without any, uh, violence." If what Bilbo thought was true, then there was little chance of Thranduil listening to Thorin. If the elves thought a portion of the Erebor's wealth entitled to them, he doubted that learning of the company's survival was going to do anything to stop them. Bilbo could only hope that the raven would be tactful enough to mondify Thorin's words instead of repeating them directly.

Thorin glared down at him, fury still etched in every line on his face, "you would have me treat with the elves? You would have me give up my gold, my grandfather's gold to the very king that let our people burn?"

Bilbo felt his gut clench as nervous worry flooded through his body, "well no, of course not but –"

"You would have me treat," Thorin's voice had started to rise in anger, "with the very same elf that let abandoned his oath of friendship to Erebor, but apparently has no qualms about helping men to whom he has no ties?"

The dwarf's rage had hunched his shoulders as he bared his teeth with a feral grimace. Bilbo reached out a hand cautiously; he hadn't meant… he would never try to…

"No, Bilbo, the elves lost their right to enter these halls ever again when they refused to do as I watched the dragon's wrath consume my people, my brother –" Thorin's voice halted and he turned away from the company, from Bilbo.

The hobbit's eyes widened as he heard his friend take deep, shuddering breaths. "I… I need to think. Dwalin, Balin" their leader straightened up but still refused to face them, "we need to speak."

Thorin stalked to his room without a second glance back. Bilbo saw Dwalin and Balin exchange a look before following. Fili stood there for a moment as well before letting out a small breath and walking towards where the other dwarves had gone. The hobbit realized his hand was still outstretched and quickly lowered it back to his side. He made a half step forward to… he didn't really know what but a hand on his arm just as quickly stopped him.

"Don't worry, Master Boggins, he'll be alright, just needs time is all." Though Kili spoke with confidence, Bilbo could tell even the young dwarf didn't fully believe his own words.

Bilbo clenched the inside of Thorin's coat but nodded stiffly in agreement. If they needed to make battle plans or treaty agreements, he certainly would be of little use.

"Shouldn't you go too?" the hobbit looked up at Kili, unsure as to why the dwarf was still here.

"Fili's the heir," Kili shrugged with a practiced indifference, "he's better at all that stuff anyway and I'm sure he'll tell me anything important later."

Bilbo continued to gaze at the young dwarf but decided not to pursue the topic. His brain was too frazzled from a lack of proper sleep and how fast the mood had gone from positively elated to bitter anger.

"Somehow I thought Smaug's death would…" Bilbo trailed off not sure exactly what he was trying to say.

"Solve everything?" Kili added quietly as the rest of the company seemed to shrug off Thorin's outburst and got back to celebrating one less very large, very angry monster trying to kill them.

The hobbit nodded with a sigh, "…yes, I suppose I never really considered what would happen after if we succeeded. I never thought there would be something other than Smaug…"

Kili and Bilbo walked slowly away from the general revelry of the company towards the foot of Aulë's statue before sitting down at its base. "I know what you mean, Master Boggins," the young dwarf nodded in agreement, "from the way uncle always described the elves, I thought they'd never leave their forest for anything."

Bilbo let out a sigh as he looked down at his hands and realized how small they were, how useless. Glancing up slowly at Kili, the hobbit felt his face fall into a frown, "How can I help him, Kili? What can I do?"

Kili considered him for a moment, "Just… be there for him, Master Boggins. Show him that you aren't going anywhere, that you'll…" the young dwarf trailed off for a moment, "that you'll support him even when things aren't going so well."

"I do—" The hobbit started but Kili cut him off with a wave, "I know. I guess what I meant was right now he's got Fili and Dwalin and Balin to advise him, to tell him when he's wrong."

"That's why you and me," Kili smiled at him warmly, "have to be the ones who support him no matter what. He needs us for different reasons than he needs them. He needs you, Master Boggins, to be his strength."

Bilbo stared at the dwarf for a few moments, "I…" but before he could finish, Kili's smile turned into a glower.

"Speaking of you and my dear uncle," Kili's eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms with a pout, "when were you going to tell me, hm? I thought we were supposed to be friends and what do you do? Go and tell Fili and let me find out by myself!"

Bilbo felt his heart lift with familiar affection as he rolled his eyes while Kili continued. "My heart just about stopped with the shock! It's like not one of you has even the slightest concern for my health!"

"Oh please," the hobbit shoved Kili playfully with his arm, "your brother told me about how you have two have been gossiping like old women this whole journey. And about your little bet."

Kili grinned as he let out a bright laugh, "Jig's up! No thanks to you I'm going to have to live with Fili's smug face for the next age."

Bilbo sniffed indignantly, "you deserve it. Thought if it's any consolation, it, uh, just sort of happened yesterday."

"So…" Kili began with a sly smile on his face, "should I be calling you uncle now too?"

The hobbit scowled at his friend with every bit of Baggins ire he could muster, "If you even think about it, I will slice up your bow into little bits for a fire and only put it out when I've collected enough of your tears to douse the flames."

The dwarf let out a mock gasp of surprise as he clutched his heart, "you wouldn't dare!"

Bilbo couldn't help his scowl turning in to a grin, "Oh, I would dare, Mister Kili, I can be very… creative when pressed."

Kili stuck out his tongue before leaning back against the statue and pulling his legs to his chest, "Fine, fine I won't call you Uncle Boggins. At least not yet."

The hobbit laughed as he pulled Thorin's coat around him and set it over himself and Kili. The young dwarf was silent for a moment as he watched the rest of the company starting to break out into various songs and dances. Now that it was safe, Bilbo heard Bofur speaking to Bombur about trying to get to their old home while Ori was speaking to his brothers rapidly about trying to locate Erebor's ancient library.

"Was it Frerin?"

Bilbo shifted his gaze from the rest of the company to Kili. "What?"

"Was it Frerin that finally pushed you two together?"

The hobbit thought for a moment before answering quietly, "Yes… yes, I suppose it was in a way."

"I think he would have liked that," Kili put his chin on his knees, "Mother doesn't speak of him that often but he sounds like the type of dwarf who would've wanted his family to be happy more than anything."

Bilbo watched Kili and suddenly it occurred him how young the dwarf was. Which was a strange thought considering he was fairly certain Fili and Kili were both older than him by at least several decades but as he looked at the dwarf's face, unlined by worry or time, Kili seemed just barely to have reached adulthood, his beard still nothing more than patchy stubble.

"I'm happy for you, Master Boggins," Kili looked over at him from the corner of his eyes, a small smile on his lips, "and uncle. He always acts less troubled when you're around."

"Thank you, Kili. That… that means a great deal," Bilbo smiled back at his friend before letting out a little sigh, "I just hope this business with the elves doesn't lead to anything… unpleasant."

The dwarf nodded, "Me too… But they have no claim to Erebor's gold, not after what they did." Kili looked up with determination, "Uncle has every right to keep them out."

Bilbo gazed out absently into the large room. He had no idea what it felt like to have hatred and betrayal run that deep. To feel bitter satisfaction at the thought of revenge. And he hoped he never would but he couldn't fight the sinking feeling that reasoning with Thorin on the issue was going to be near impossible.

"Why can't everyone just, oh I don't know, start fresh?" The hobbit rubbed at an aching temple with his fingers, "What's the… what's the point of all this hatred? All it leads to is more blood spilled."

He supposed he could somewhat understandable what Thorin was feeling, but it seemed to him that hobbits just weren't made for emotions that dark and consuming. Sure, he'd known families to hold grudges for a few generations, but he'd never seen anyone get killed over it. 'I just hope Thranduil stays away,' Bilbo thought to himself bitterly, 'we'd all be better off.'

"Because…" Kili started slowly, "we just can't, Master Boggins, Uncle can't. He's seen too much death. He's been hurt too many times to trust in forgiveness."

Bilbo closed his eyes as he felt the same sort of dread that had filled him in Mirkwood's dungeons seep back into his veins.

"Or at least I thought he had until he met you," Bilbo felt Kili's hand squeeze his arm gently, "he's different with you, Master Boggins, that's why you've got to be strong. I think you can show him that letting himself be happy doesn't mean he's going to be hurt again."

"I'll…" Bilbo leaned back against the statue and pictured Thorin's face when he had realized Smaug was dead. That's what he was fighting for, to see that smile every day and know that Thorin was happy. He had thought the dragon was the last obstacle before them but even now that he knew it wasn't true, Bilbo Baggins felt determination well up within him again.

"I'll be strong, Mister Kili, we'll all get through this."

Bilbo felt Kili give his arm one last squeeze, "I know you will, Master Boggins."

They sat in comfortable silence as the rest of the company went out to explore the city. Bilbo was far too exhausted from too many nights with only a few hours sleep and little food to do anything but wait for Thorin to finish his council. Even though he tried to fight the sleep that seemed to be pulling his eyelids down an iron grip, he soon felt his head slip over to rest on Kili's shoulder as he slept.

---

Bilbo woke with a groggy blink of his eyes as he felt the world shift around him. There was a strong pair of arms lifting him and then he was on a sleeping mat.

"Wha—" he started, his voice scratchy with sleep and utterly confused.

The hobbit felt someone lay down beside him as a blanket was thrown over them. Bilbo rolled over and his face hit a solid chest beside him and as he breathed in he knew who it was. 'Is it odd that I know Thorin by scent?'

"It's not odd."

'Wait… Did I just say that out loud?'

"I'm terribly afraid you did, now go back to sleep."

Thorin's arm reached out under the blanket and rested over Bilbo's side. The hobbit felt his friend pull him closer until they were almost against each other. A small flush crept up to the tips of his ears as Thorin buried his face in Bilbo's hair. They were close enough that the hobbit could hear every beat of Thorin's heart over the soft snores of the rest of the company.

"How…" the hobbit began quietly, "how are you feeling?"

"Tired, go sleep Bilbo."

"Are you sure, Thorin?"

Bilbo felt his friend shift slightly as a cool hand slipped under his shirt to rest against his bare back, "I am sure."

The hobbit's eyes shot open, now fully awake. Well this was certainly a… development. Thorin's fingers traced small patterns on his back and cold metal on one of the fingers left small bumps in its wake. The dwarf's blunt nails scraped lightly against his skin and Bilbo almost let out little gasp.

"Shh," Thorin hushed and he pulled the hobbit even closer.

"Thorin, what—"

"Sleep," the dwarf grumbled from above him and Bilbo grew silent.

He wanted to speak with Thorin, to know that he wasn't going to throw everything away. That he wasn't going to endanger his hold on Erebor so soon after the dwarf had gotten it back. But it was very hard to keep his thoughts working towards a coherent and convincing end when he was so close and Thorin kept doing… well, whatever he was doing with his left hand.

The hobbit let out a small sigh as he shut his eyes again. Bilbo wasn't altogether sure he would be able to get back to sleep easily but it was also clear Thorin wasn't going to talk to him until they woke. Bilbo's thoughts waited until he felt the dwarf's hand stilled and he knew Thorin was asleep before they clawed their way to the front of his mind.

There was worry for the elves and anxiety for how Thorin would react if Thranduil showed up. But there was also a different sort of nervousness prodding his thoughts. Thoughts about what he was going to do after, what he should do. There had never been a time in his life when he hadn't called Bag End his home… When he hadn't thought of Hobbiton's rolling hills with familiar comfort. And yet, he knew that Thorin could never live there. Thorin was a king and kings had kingdoms.

His friend had asked him to stay in Erebor. Could he really leave everything he had known behind? The question had given him pause earlier so he knew the answer couldn't be that simple but as he thought of Thorin's shining face he remembered what he'd told his friend on their last night in Rivendell.

Home wasn't about where his bed was or where he came back every night. It was who. Bilbo had told Thorin he thought home was with the people you loved and cared for most and he had meant every word. And then the answer seemed so easy. Thorin was home to him now. Thorin was the thing he wanted to see the first thing in the morning and the last thing he wanted to see at night. Of course he would miss Bag End and everyone in the Shire but it's not like he could never visit them again. Bilbo needed Thorin just as Thorin needed him. But Thorin also needed Erebor so that's where he would stay; after all, it really was just another hole in the ground. A much larger hole to be fair, but one he hoped would someday be as dear to him as it was to Thorin.

---

"—one get up, we will make our way to the gates."

Bilbo rolled over, pulling up the blanket over his face to get just a few more minutes sleep. Despite the worry Bilbo had gone to sleep with, it had been the best rest he'd had since Laketown. Which wasn't saying much, but the hobbit was willing to count anything more than a few hours as a victory.

"Up you get, Master Baggins," Bilbo groaned as he heard Fili's familiar voice and felt a hand shake his arm gently.

"I don't want to," the hobbit tried so say through the tired haze swimming through his mind but it really might have just come out as an incoherent string of mumbles.

"You hobbits sure do enjoy your sleep," Fili's chuckled from above him.

"And you dwarves," Bilbo sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes, "sure do enjoy waking me from it."

The hobbit blinked several times and saw that the rest of the company had packed up what little possessions they had. Thorin and Dwalin were standing at the far archway, waiting for the rest of their group and talking. Bilbo peered closer and saw that Thorin's face was… different? The hobbit had gotten use to his friend's familiar expression of grim determination and even a few smiles but he'd never seen this wicked smirk. Thorin looked somehow the same as he did when Bilbo found him in the cells of Mirkwood and also entirely different.

That air of bloodlust and brutal desire for revenge seemed to hang over the dwarf like a thick cloud. But on his face wasn't the hurt or the ache Bilbo had seen before; this time Thorin's expression was a razor sharp smirk, teeth bared and ready, eyes fiery as if the only thing he wanted in that moment was to pull his sword and revel in the sensation of steel tearing through flesh.

Bilbo felt his stomach drop at the sight, fear filling him. He looked around at the company, trying to see if anyone else had noticed this change in demeanor, but everyone looked… more or less the same as they had yesterday; smiles wide and drunk off the news of Smaug's death. The hobbit glanced up at Fili who was staring at him curiously.

"Are you alright, Master Baggins?" A blonde brow rose in question.

"I… Is Thorin alright?" Bilbo stuttered, still shocked that no one else was concerned by what he was seeing.

"Uncle?" Fili turned his gaze to the archway, eyeing Thorin and Dwalin before flicking his eyes back to Bilbo, "I believe so, should he not be?"

The hobbit stood up quickly, his eyes still locked on Thorin's face, "He doesn't seem… different to you?"

Then Thorin looked over, his bright blue eyes fixed on Bilbo. The dwarf shot him the same smirk he'd seen a moment ago and for a split second, Thorin's eyes seemed to go dark and dangerous, a promise for something more written in his gaze. Bilbo felt a shiver run down his spin but as soon as he blinked, just to make sure he wasn't imagining anything, Thorin had looked away again, his eyes back on Dwalin.

"Did you just see…" Bilbo trailed off as he turned his face slowly towards Fili.

"Did I just see my uncle looking at you?" The young dwarf stared at him curiously, "Yes, I did, Master Baggins, he does that quite a lot…"

"But…" The hobbit shook his head, he hadn't imagined that, had he…?

"Are you feeling alright, my friend?" Fili stepped closer and put a hand on Bilbo's chin, tilting the hobbit's face up while placing his other hand on Bilbo's forehead, "a fever perhaps—"

"Fili," they heard Thorin growl, low and dangerous, both of their heads twisting to the side to face their leader's dark expression. The blonde dwarf's eyes were stuck on his uncle before they flicked down to Bilbo and back again.

"Fili," Thorin snarled again.

The blonde dwarf stood stock still for a moment before suddenly letting go and stepping away as if Bilbo had burned him. Thorin glared at his nephew for a moment before turning back to Dwalin who had watched the exchange with brows drawn but seemed to quickly shrug it off.

"Well, no fever, Master Baggins," Fili's voice had an unfamiliar quiver to it that made him seem so much younger, almost as if he'd never heard his uncle address him in that voice before.

Bilbo couldn't help but gape slightly, "What was that about?"

Fili shrugged and made to turn away from him before the hobbit reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his friend's coat, "we are not going to pretend like that didn't just happen or that it was even remotely normal!"

The young dwarf glanced at his uncle again, "I'm sure he's just… nervous about today. On edge about negotiations."

Bilbo looked over at Thorin and decided that nothing about his friend looked nervous. If anything there was a reckless sort of confidence to his stance now, "Fili…" the hobbit began slowly, his voice laced with concern, "if you've noticed something too, I need to know. We can't – we can't go into these meetings if Thorin isn't in the right… I don't know," Bilbo let out a frustrated sigh, "mindset for being diplomatic!"

The hobbit felt that a rug had suddenly been pulled out from underneath his feet, like something vastly important had changed while he'd been asleep but now he was the only one noticing the shift.

"Did something happen while you all were talking last night?" Bilbo looked at Fili with pleading eyes, he needed to know.

"I… no, nothing changed…" Fili's voice was oddly stuttered and he looked just about as confused as the hobbit felt.

"Fili…"

"Well…" the dwarf started hesitantly, "he was angry. Of course he was, Master Baggins, you know how much he hates the elves. Balin had calmed him down and we seemed to be getting somewhere in terms of strategy…"

Fili glanced over to the door of Thorin's room, "he was standing near his desk, thinking quietly while we were looking at maps and then… I don't know, Master Baggins, I've never seen him so furious."

Bilbo felt his hand grip Fili's sleeve even harder.

"He just sort of exploded, yelling about how the elf-king was trying to steal his gold, his birthright and how Thranduil always coveted the Arkenstone, wanted to take it from Thror as a symbol of their superiority over the dwarves…." Fili's hand clenched into a fist, "And then he was calm again, couldn't even remember what he'd said a moment ago…"

"He… forgot?" Bilbo was feeling nothing but more confused than he had been a minute ago.

The young dwarf nodded, "I thought it was just nerves or… None of this had been easy for Thorin, especially the elves getting involved, it's only natural that he would act out occasionally, right?"

Bilbo could see in his friend's eyes there was something scared and pleading there, something that Fili didn't want to acknowledge. That there was something going on that none of them understood yet.

"I think we – "

"Fili, Kili, up here now," they heard Thorin call out over the group.

The blonde dwarf glanced between Bilbo and his uncle before shaking his head slightly and giving the hobbit a falsely bright smile, "I'm sure it's nothing, Master Baggins."

"Now Fili."

The young dwarf sent him one last smile before joining his uncle and brother near the archway. Bilbo stood there for a moment completely still and feeling utterly disoriented. 'What is going on?,' he thought desperately. The hobbit felt a frustration course through him as he finally willed his legs to move and stuff his pack with slightly shaking hands. Something felt terribly wrong in his mind but he couldn't tell even remotely what it was… If only he could talk to Thorin, to ask him.

"We move out towards the gates," Thorin's voice rose above the excited chatter of the group, "if the raven spoke true, Bard's envoy should arrive this morning."

Their leader stood with his back straight but his head was tilted with an aggressive confidence, "and if the elvish scum tries to take my treasure," Thorin's face twisted into a dark smirk, "we'll show him that the dwarves of Erebor," the company cheered, "will not give up what is ours to liars and thieves!"

Thorin turned and started down the hallway, he rest of the group following with excited chatter. Bilbo slung his pack on his back and trailed after the rest of the company. Maybe he was just imagining it… Maybe Fili was right and Thorin was just worked up about the elves, that made sense, didn't it? That explained why his friend seemed to flit between the dwarf he knew and a complete stranger… right?

Bilbo watched Thorin's back from between the shoulders of the company. He wanted to speak with Thorin, to reassure himself that this was all some trick of the mind but his friend was deep in conversation with Balin, probably still working on important things that he knew nothing about, things like treaties and city maps.

"You alright there, laddie?" Bilbo heard Bofur fall into step next to him and looked up to see the dwarf looking at him with concern.

"I… I'm not sure, Mister Bofur."

The dwarf smiled brightly at him before giving his shoulder a friendly slap, "Not sure, are ya? Mister Big, Red, an' Roasty is dead, the city is ours!" Bofur waggled his eyebrows, "an' you got your chosen! What's the long hobbit face for?"

Bilbo flushed slightly at the dwarf's face, "What? How do you know that?"

Bofur shook his head fondly, "Got eyes, don't I laddie? Remember yesterday? Big ol' dwarf hug? Some royal slobber in your mouth? Soundin' familiar yet…?"

'Oh… yes that had been in front of the whole company hadn't it…' Bilbo narrowed his eyes at Bofur but felt the burn on his face grow just ever so slightly. He wasn't embarrassed per say, it was more the inevitable teasing he just knew he was going to be the unwilling subject of.

The dwarf chuckled as he slapped Bilbo's back again, "Ahh, and there it is!"

"Yes, yes, have your fun Mister Bofur," the hobbit rolled his eyes with a huff.

"No fun bein' had, Master Baggins! Just baskin' in the glow of young love!" Bofur winked at him looked far too pleased with himself than he had any right to be.

Bilbo snorted as he looked up at the dwarf in disbelief, "young?"

"Missin' the point, laddie!" Bofur smiled at him before his face grew slightly more serious, "there ain't nothin' to be worried about, Master Baggins, we'll figure out this gold business then we can finally get back to rebuildin' our home."

Bilbo gazed at his friend for a moment and couldn't help but trust in the earnest grin on Bofur's face, "I suppose you're right…"

"It's been known to happen," Bofur shot him a wink, "so no more frownin', you'll be bringin' down the whole company."

The hobbit took a deep breath and nodded slowly. Maybe he did need to stop worrying so much. Smaug was dead, Erebor was theirs, and he would be able to talk with Thorin after the negotiations with Bard were done. Then they could finally sit down and discuss whatever it was they were going to do now. Bilbo felt his heart swell at the thought, a whole future with Thorin, full of possibility and hope, and they would build it together. Build it day by day until they were old and tired from living with a whole lifetime of fond memories to look back on.

They walked down the passage with the statues until they came out into the great hall filled with the rubble of Smaug's destruction. Bilbo had no idea which way was out or how far away they were from the gates so he simply followed alongside Bofur and couldn't help but marvel at the sheer height of it all. Somehow the same halls that had almost frightened him before with the constant shadow of Smaug's return now seemed a bit brighter. Well, perhaps not brighter, the hall was undeniably one of the darkest places Bilbo had ever been, but now he could almost picture what it was going to look like instead of how it might have looked in an age long past.

The hobbit thought he could still feel the lingering ghosts of so many lives taken by fire but there was more of a relief to them now that the dragon was dead. They walked and walked, weaving around piles of stone and the broken remnants of life until Bilbo noticed that the darkness had begun to fade, at the end of the hall there was a bright hole of light that looked to be torn out from the mountain itself. The closer they got, the better Bilbo could see that it was a great set of doors made out of the same green stone that the outside had been. There were deep gouges on edge of either side where Smaug must have torn them open when he left.

Bilbo suddenly felt a wash of cool air and gulped it down greedily. The breeze danced inside and pushed the stale air back and it was the most wonderful thing he'd ever felt. There was sunlight and fresh wind! Thorin pushed forward towards the doors and in what seemed like no time at all, they were through them and on the charred black road that led out of Erebor and towards the ruins of Dale. The hobbit closed his eyes and let the sun bathe him in its light. The air was chilly and he could just about smell the brittle hints of winter approaching but even with his half burnt coat, Bilbo found it hard to care.

When he opened his eyes Bilbo looked down the winding road to see that on the great empty field, beside the ruins of Dale that bordered on the trees of Mirkwood, there were countless tents erected. Flags fluttered in the breeze, some green with a great tree emblazoned on them and others, much rougher looking, with what might have been a black arrow. At the center of what Bilbo could only assume was the elvish camp there was the largest tent he'd ever seen. And yet it almost wasn't a tent at all. It looked like it could have been a large tree that had curved its branches down to the ground in an arc and its leaves had stretched wide to shield the occupants from view.

Sudden movement caught his eye and he saw what appeared to be a small group of men making their way up the road toward the gates of Erebor, only the white flag with the black arrow fluttering above them. Bilbo thought he might have seen figures clad in the dark green and browns of the elves but he hoped with all his might his eyes had been mistaken. The presence of the Mirkwood's folk wouldn't make this easy. The hobbit could only pray that Thranduil didn't send up his men when it would undoubtedly provoke Thorin's fury.

The company fell silent as they awaited the envoy to reach them, forming a half circle around Thorin as a show of solidarity. Bilbo felt the sudden urge to move forward and stand as close to his friend as he could, he needed Thorin to know he wouldn't have to face this alone. Fili glanced over his shoulder as he heard Bilbo shuffle through the dwarves and moved over slightly so there was room between himself and Thorin's right. The hobbit gave him a strained smile and edged his way so he was standing next to Thorin.

Bilbo looked up and expected to see the same expression of grim determination that Thorin always had on when he was facing something difficult. What he saw instead made his stomach clench nervously. The dwarf's face was blank except for a slight quirk to his lip, a challenging curve of his mouth that promised blood before compromised. Bilbo saw Thorin's eyes flick to his face and for a moment he saw his friend, familiar and kind and resolute. But then it was gone again, replaced by the angry, thirsty fire of before.

"Thorin…" Bilbo could only manage a whisper as the envoy grew closer and closer.

"Don't worry," Thorin turned to face the envoy that was almost upon them now, "I won't let them get a single piece of Erebor's wealth."

The hobbit frowned, "I'm not worried about—" but he was cut off by the sound of horn.

The envoy was led by Bard, his longbow strapped to his back, boiled leather armor that looked like it had seen much better days strapped to his body. There were cuts on his face and a very small limp to his walk but other than that, Bard looked to be healthy. Bilbo let out a sigh of relief at the sight of his friend alive and well. But there was also something different about him now. Bard looked stronger and more… regal, like a true leader of men, not the scruffy outlaw Bilbo had seen not even a moon's turn ago. The group of men halted and Bard stepped forward.

"Thorin Oakenshield," he began in his gruff voice and bent his head in respect, "King under the Mountain."

"Bard the Bowman," Thorin took a step forward as well, a small sneer on his face as he glanced down to the tents in the valley below, "you seem to be doing better than last we met."

Bilbo's eyes widened, 'why is he being so rude?' Thorin and Bard hadn't seemed to get on all that well the last time they met, but surely that was no way to speak to a potential ally!

Bard stared coolly back at Thorin for a moment before his eyes turned to Bilbo and his lips lifted into a small smile, "Mister Baggins, I'm relieved to see you unharmed. I was worried the dragon might have gotten you, but when the thrush told me what you discovered, I knew you must have made it out alive."

Bard stepped closer so now he was in front of the hobbit and bowed far deeper than he had for Thorin, "I owe you my life Mister Baggins, if you had not found the dragon's weakness, we would all be dead."

Bilbo blinked several times before an embarrassed flush crept on his cheeks as he waved his hands, "Oh no, no, I really didn't do anything important. You were the one that killed the dragon!"

The bowman smiled at him again, "Not alone. The people of Laketown rallied together and the Master fled, we are free now," Bard looked over as Thorin let out a low snarl, stepping forward to place himself between them, "but at great cost."

"I thought you were here to treat with me," Thorin said low and dangerous as Bard glanced between the dwarf and Bilbo with a curious stare, "not Master Baggins."

"I mean to take my place as Lord of Dale, as my great-grandfather did before he was killed in Smaug's first attack."

Thorin looked at Bard with narrowed eyes as he scoffed, "you mean to tell me you are kin to Lord Girion?"

The bowman looked as though he was trying with great effort not to show his irritation but couldn't help some slip out, "I am. And I mean to rebuild Dale for any of Laketown that wish for a new life. I believe," Bard and Thorin locked eyes, neither blinking even once, "it is fair we are compensated for killing the dragon that held your kingdom hostage. Dale and Erebor were once allies, Thorin Oakenshield, I would like for us to be so again."

Thorin's eyes narrowed even further but before he could answer Bard spoke up again, "But we were not alone, the elves of Mirkwood came to our defense and should be compensated as well for their losses."

Bilbo felt his stomach sink. Even if Thorin had been about to agree to terms with Bard, the bowman had just mentioned the one thing that Bilbo had been dreading. The one thing that could cause more bloodshed.

Another voice spoke up as someone moved out from behind the raggedy group of guards that had been standing behind Bard, "We do not ask for much, King under the Mountain, only to repair our losses and a token of friendship between our people."

A tall, lithe elf with white-blonde hair moved forward with the ethereal grace of his kind followed closely by the auburn-haired female Bilbo had seen in the spider's clearing. It was…

"You— " Thorin snarled with such raw loathing the hobbit had never heard.

"Legolas?" Bilbo gasped at the same time. What was he doing here?

Thorin turned sharply towards the hobbit, his face a frightening mixture of rage and confusion, "How do you know the filth's name?"

Bilbo gaped between Thorin and Legolas, and not for the first time that day, feeling completely and utterly lost.

"Well, I –" the hobbit spluttered feeling the horrible sensation that he was backing into a corner and there was no way out that didn't end in his unfortunate disembowelment, "I just – we –"

"Bilbo and I met while I was taking a tour of the dungeons," Legolas spoke up calmly, looking at the hobbit with an apologetic glance, as though this conversation was going exactly as poorly as he expected.

Thorin grabbed the edge of Bilbo's coat and shook it fiercely, his eyes blazing with an almost maddened rage, "What did you tell him?"

The hobbit felt cold and dizzy all at once, every thought in his mind instantly gone except for one. For the first time in since he'd met Thorin, he was afraid.

"He told me nothing, Thorin Oakenshield. And I would strongly advise," Legolas' face looked ancient in that moment, all the power and knowledge of a thousand years flashing behind his eyes, "you let go."

Fili and Kili jumped forward, Kili grabbing his uncle's arm and Fili pulling Bilbo away. "Uncle!" Kili pleaded and the voice of his nephew seemed to send a jolt through Thorin. His hand snapped opened and he looked down at it for a split second like it was foreign to him. The dwarf's eyes met Bilbo's and for the briefest moment, the hobbit saw fear. And then it was gone again and he was shoving Kili off before turning to face the elves.

The female elf had reached back for one of curved handles strapped to her back but Legolas quickly raised a hand, halting her movements, "No, Tauriel. We did not come here to fight."

"But he's clearly mad," Tauriel hissed at her companion, her stance still only a second away from battle-ready though her hand slowly lowered back to her side.

"Mad? Mad?" Thorin growled with a sharp laugh, "what is mad, is that the son of the elf who betrayed my people was sent here for my treasure!"

"Uncle, please—," Fili took a step towards Thorin but halted when their leader shot his nephew a glare so full of rage, Bilbo thought the young dwarf might have cowered away.

"So what else does your lord father wish to take from me?" Thorin rounded on Legolas and in that moment Bilbo could only think Tauriel was right, he looked mad.

"Was the death of my people and my family not enough? Was the entire destruction of our home not enough?"

Legolas looked suddenly sad and exhausted, "You know that is not true, Thorin Oakenshield, we never wished harm upon you and yours."

The dwarf let out an incredulous snort, his eyes flashing wildly, "Lies! Thranduil never wanted to pay us fealty, he hated my grandfather! I saw it in his eyes whenever he looked upon the Arkenstone –"

Thorin's eyes grew wide with realization, his voice quiet but all the more dangerous, "That's what you want isn't it?"

The elf looked perplexed, "We do not—"

But Thorin cut him off as if he hadn't even heard Legolas start to speak, "Of course, how could I have been so blind? You want the Arkenstone as some sort of – of trophy, so Thranduil can flaunt my grandfather's defeat to all your kind!"

Legolas' face was drawn and his brows furrowed, "I have said before, we do not—"

"You want my grandfather's greatest treasure, my greatest treasure," raised his right hand, an accusatory finger pointed towards the elf, "you were the reason my father was driven to madness, you were the reason Thror died."

The hobbit found his voice again, though it was shakier and much more quiet than he would have liked, "Thorin, no, Legolas was the one that helped us escape! He – He isn't like that!" But the dwarf ignored him, lost in his own enraged tangent.

"Well let me tell you something, Legolas son of Thranduil, I will find the Arkenstone and I will mount it above the throne where it was meant to be and will always remain. You will all," Thorin gestured to the envoy and the camps beyond, "kneel before me and the might of Erebor."

The dwarf turned to walk away, his shoulders shaking with anger, but halted after a few steps to look over his shoulder, "And if any of you, any of you, so much as mentions the word 'payment' I will personally send you back to whatever rotten tree you sprang from in bloody pieces."

Bard took another step forward so he was level with Legolas. "Then you leave us no choice, Thorin Oakenshield, we will take what we need by force," the bowman's voice softened somewhat as his glace flicked toward Bilbo, "you cannot win with fourteen."

Thorin sneered at the man and elf standing side by side, "I will send word to my cousin, Dáin of the Ironhills, if you choose to make war, Master Bowman, I suggest you think long and hard about who you will be fighting against."

This was wrong, this was all so horribly, horribly wrong! Bard and Legolas had helped him, why would they fight now? What could possibly be so important about some rock or a few pieces of gold when it meant people were going to die? He had to—he had to stop this before it was too late.

"Thorin, please, can't you just give them some gold? They only –" Bilbo gulped as the dwarf's gaze turned on him, "They only want to rebuild, surely that isn't unreasonable?"

"You would side with them?" Thorin asked dangerously quiet, like the calm just before a storm.

"No! I—" Bilbo's gaze flickered towards Bard and Legolas who were watching him, resigned looks on their faces. "Of course not, Thorin, but there's plenty inside! If you won't give it to them, just – just let them have my cut! I don't care about the gold, just don't fight—"

"Silence," Thorin hissed at him, his voice somehow both quiet and impossibly loud at the same time, "If you are not with them, then you with me." Thorin stalked past him back towards the gates, "I think this concludes negotiations. Roäc!" Thorin shouted out to the air and a moment later the old raven landed on his arm in a flurry of wings, "send word to Dáin," the dwarf glared over his shoulder, "that Erebor is mine, and his armies are needed."

"Yes, my king," the raven croaked out before taking flight again.

Thorin set off towards the gates, the rest of the company following him until soon it was just Bilbo, limbs frozen and unable to move. This… This could not be happening. The dragon was dead, everything was supposed to be fine and now they were getting ready for war? Against Legolas? Against Bard?

The hobbit turned wide eyes towards his two friends, his mouth open but no sound coming out. Everything was spinning out of control and he couldn't do anything to stop it. Helplessness despair filled him until there was nothing else. They were… they were supposed to be happy now, so why, why did he feel like the whole world was crashing down around him?

"You must speak with him," Legolas' voice swam into his ear but it sounded like it was coming from a great distance, "You have to make him see reason, Bilbo."

The hobbit looked up at Legolas and felt angry tears start to prick at his eyes. "Why didn't you…" Bilbo choked on his words, "why didn't you tell me who you were?"

The elf let out a sigh and made to place a hand on his shoulder but after one glance at the company's retreating backs, seemed to think better of it, "Would you have trusted me if I did?"

"I…" Bilbo started but then it didn't even seem to matter, Legolas had helped them but none of that seemed to make a difference to Thorin. There was something wrong with his friend, something that Bilbo had no idea where to even begin trying to help. There was something inside Thorin making him act this way, making him act like Bilbo had never seen and he wasn't sure it would listen to reason.

"Go after them Bilbo, you can help stop this escalating further, I know you can," Legolas gave him a small, sad smile.

"You have to try, Mister Baggins," Bard looked at him with a focused intensity, "I have no desire for war, but neither can I let my people live in squalor."

Bilbo gazed at them trying to find the words, to ask or help, advice, anything but nothing came out.

"Go on, little one," Legolas gently pushed him around towards the gates of Erebor, "we shall put our faith in you."

Though Legolas was trying to move him, Bilbo couldn't bring himself to make either of his legs make a step forward. He didn't know what he was going back to inside the mountain. He didn't know what was happening to Thorin. All he knew was that he was frightened. Frightened for Thorin, for Fili and Kili, for the rest of the company, for Bard and Legolas. They had barely escaped the dragon, what were the chances of them all getting out of a war alive?

The hobbit saw Fili stop and glance over his shoulder, realizing Bilbo hadn't been walking with them. The blonde dwarf grabbed his brother's arm and they spoke to each other for a brief moment before both turning around and heading back towards him.

"C'mon Master Boggins, we've got to go back in," Kili said quietly as he grasped one of Bilbo's arms and started to tug gently. Bilbo took a hesitant step forward, still feeling like he was somehow outside his own body, looking down at himself with no control over his limbs.

"That's right, Master Baggins, we'll be right here." Fili glanced up at Bard and Legolas, his mouth a tight line but his face showed none of the anger that Thorin's had, only regret.

He took one step, then another, then another and soon enough they were back inside the Lonely Mountain, standing amidst the rubble and dust.

"Shut the gates," Thorin called to the company, motioning to two large wheels on either side of the door, "I'm going to the treasure room."

Their leader started to walk away and Bilbo knew he had to speak with him now, "Thorin!" The dwarf didn't turn, only kept walking down the massive hallway.

Bilbo shook loose of Fili and Kili's hands, running after the only person he'd ever grown to love. "Thorin! Please, wait up!"

The hobbit caught up with his friend and took a sleeve in his hand, yanking it until Thorin stopped, "Thorin, talk to me," he pleaded, "tell me what's going on, this – this isn't like you."

"When were you going to tell me you were in league with the traitor's son?" Thorin looked down at him with a mixture of anger and… hurt? It must have been. The expression seemed so much more familiar to him than what he'd seen outside that it gave him hope.

"I didn't know who he was!" Bilbo let go of the dwarf's sleeve and reached down so he was holding Thorin's right hand with the lightest touch he could manage, "and it… it didn't seem to matter, we got out didn't we?"

"Didn't seem to matter?" Thorin's hand balled into a fist, "I would never have accepted help from the likes of him, never."

The dwarf's eyes started to grow dark, started to close off again and somehow Bilbo knew he needed to act quickly. "I know that, but don't you think it's time to consider the future? … Please don't throw it all away now."

"You have your family, Thorin. You have your city," Bilbo squeezed his hand tightly, "you have me."

"Do I?" Thorin spat out bitterly.

"Of course you do!" the hobbit stepped in closer, looking straight into Thorin's eyes so the dwarf wouldn't doubt his words, "and you always will. Just don't… don't fight with them, not when they can be your allies."

Thorin's face had softened for a brief moment as Bilbo spoke and for just a second he thought he might have broken through to the man he loved inside that cloud of bitter fury; but as soon as he'd finished, the darkness and the stranger were back.

"Allies? The elves were my allies until the day they betrayed my family," Thorin pulled his hand free with no hint of gentleness, "and Bard is just as greedy as those he chooses to fight with. They will have none of my gold."

"Thorin, please," Bilbo almost groaned in despair, seeing that wall go up again; knowing that he was stranded on the other side completely alone.

"Not another word, I have more important matters to attend to," Thorin turned his back and started to walk away.

The hobbit clenched his fists, the angry tears back in his eyes as he called out to Thorin's retreating form, "More important matters? More important than your life? Than the lives of your nephews and your company?"

The dwarf said nothing as he walked away, away from him, away from reason. "No stone," Bilbo blinked through the hot tears now clouding his eyes and picked up a small rock from the ground. He clenched his eyes shut and threw the stone, letting it sail out of his fingers. He felt anger and sadness, desperation and hopelessness crash around him, "is worth a life!"

Bilbo opened his eyes just in time to see the rock connect with Thorin's back, but it bounced off his friend like every word he'd spoken that day. The dwarf didn't even stop, didn't even look back, just continued off down the hallway towards the treasure room, towards the Arkenstone.

The hobbit stood there, teeth clenched and wishing that he'd wake up any minute now from this awful nightmare. That was it then, Thorin wouldn't listen to him. The dwarf would look for his lost stone, thoughts consumed with nothing but faded grander and revenge while the rest of them prepared for what mockery of a war fourteen could wage against a thousand. Bilbo angrily rubbed the tears from his eyes and kicked a stone that lay near his foot, almost relishing in the distraction of pain.

"Master Baggins?" Bilbo turned sharply to see Fili now standing a few feet away, watching him with a blank look on his face, "what did he say?"

"Oh, only that he doesn't want to listen," Bilbo let out a manic laugh, "and that some stupid rock is more important to him than our lives."

"I tried, I tried," his laugh turned into a choked sob, "I tried, but…" Bilbo looked up at his friend, "I don't think he can hear me anymore."

He wiped away the tears again and shook his head, "I think he wants war."

Fili pulled him into a hug and they stood there for a moment, Bilbo's face buried in the fur of his collar. The young dwarf rubbed comforting circles on his back as Bilbo's breathing calmed down. He certainly didn't feel any better, but he also didn't feel quite so alone.

"We'll be alright, Master Baggins," Fili pulled away slightly and smiled down at him, "we always are."

Bilbo looked up at his friend and wanted to believe, wanted to believe that more than anything but all he saw were corpses. "You're an idiot if you think that," the hobbit leaned his forehead against Fili's chest.

The dwarf let out a small chuckle, "An idiot that hasn't died yet."

"Don't lose heart, my friend. There isn't a dwarf here that wouldn't follow my uncle to the end, as long as we stick together we'll be fine."

Bilbo closed his eyes and listened to Fili's heart, "and you think some treasure is worth starting a war? Worth dying for?"

The dwarf was quiet for a moment before he spoke quietly, "I think my uncle is worth dying for. I think my brother is worth dying for and he'll follow Thorin no matter what."

Fili stepped back slowly and looked him in the eyes, "If it comes to war, no one would make you fight, my friend. You can come and go as you please."

Bilbo glared at him in indignation, "How can you even say that? I wouldn't – wouldn't just leave you all, I… I can't leave him, you know that."

The young dwarf nodded with a small smile, "I know."

Fili put his arm around Bilbo's shoulder, "So we'll stick together, you, me, and Kili. And we'll protect uncle and each other no matter what happens next."

---

It was hard to tell how much time had passed since they had spoken to Bard and Legolas. All he knew was that by the time the thrush had flown into the throne room, he'd gone to sleep twice. Thorin had reappeared only at their camp for mealtimes but otherwise spent his days feverishly searching the throne room for the Arkenstone, yelling at anyone who tried to help, telling them to leave him alone and that this was a task only for him.

Luckily Bombur and Bofur had found a store of dried meats and half a dozen kegs of ale, which they had dragged up to the royal chambers. When Bilbo had asked how the meat hadn't gone bad yet, Bofur had merely tapped his nose with a wink and chuckled something about 'dwarvish secrets.'

Bilbo had thought about going to find Thorin but every time he tried to muster up the courage, he remembered their last conversation and became too angry and sad to do anything other than sit next to which ever of the dwarves was on 'cheering up the hobbit' duty. He couldn't understand why it seemed like none of the others weren't too bothered by the fact that their leader had invited an entire host of men and elves to attack them. Most seemed to think that the gates of Erebor would keep out any invading force until Dáin arrived and forced their foes to surrender.

He had had just finished forcing down his dinner on what he thought was probably their third night at camp since speaking with Bard when he heard familiar chirping echoing down the hallway. Only he, Kili , Dwalin, and Thorin were at the camp, the rest of the company having gone off to explore. The hobbit forced his gaze away from Thorin who was speaking with Dwalin and eating with such fervor, he thought the dwarf might have been starved. Bilbo's eyes widened in surprise as he saw the thrush fluttering about until it dived straight down and landed on his head. The songbird hopped several times then dropped a small roll of paper into his hand.

The thrush fluttered down to his knee and chirped excitedly, pecking at Bilbo's fingers, "Alright, alright! Give me a moment, will you?" the hobbit muttered at the bird. At least it wasn't trying to communicate just with nips anymore.

The hobbit opened up the small scroll to reveal a sprawling script, aware of everyone's eyes on him, of Thorin's eyes on him.

Bilbo Baggins,

I wish I could bring this matter to your attention in person, but I needed this message to reach you swiftly. Word has reached us that a host of goblins and orcs that march under Azog the Defiler's banner is moving towards Erebor. They seek the wealth that lies inside the mountain and I'm afraid they will stop at nothing to get it. Bard and I have started to make preparations but I must urge you to speak on our behalf to Thorin Oakenshield. My father refuses to risk our people for the sake of a dwarf that will not even treat with us and without our aid, Bard will have no choice but to pull his men back to Laketown, leaving you to face this threat with only the power of the Iron Hills. Though it pains me to write this, without our forces working together, the battle will be a slaughter. You must convince Thorin Oakenshield to offer my father something to show that we can have an alliance. I beg you Bilbo Baggins, please make him see reason or the dwarves will lose their home a second time.

-Legolas

Bilbo felt the edges of the paper tear as his fists clenched unconsciously. Why thought things could never get any worse he had no idea. Mainly because things almost always seemed to do just that. Now the pale orc was moving against them as well and at the rate Thorin was going, he'd have no allies left to help defend the mountain apart from the dwarves sent from the Iron Hills, which, if Legolas was correct, would not be enough to stop the horde crashing against the mountain like the seething waters of an angry sea until they broke through or the company starved.

"Master Boggins what is it?" Bilbo saw Kili's face fill his vision as the young dwarf bent his head to try and peer at the letter.

The hobbit looked up, his eyes meeting Thorin's, "Azog is coming. He brings an army of orcs and goblins to take Erebor."

Their leader stared back but after a moment scoffed and went back to his meal, "Let them come, the wretch won't break through."

Bilbo stared at Thorin in disbelief, rejecting Bard and the elves was one thing, but to be so flippant about the orcs? The hobbit shot up to his feet, feeling anger coursing through him, his teeth clenched with frustration as he glared at Thorin.

"You –" Bilbo spluttered, he was just so angry at Thorin the words caught in his in his throat, "You cannot sit here and do nothing, Thorin!"

The hobbit brought his fist up, shaking the letter at Thorin, "Legolas says the elves and Bard are going to pull back –"

Thorin stood up opposite him, "Oh, Legolas says, does he?"

Bilbo was about ready to tear out his hair, why couldn't Thorin just understand? "Yes, Legolas, the elf who helped us escape from his own father! He says they will pull back unless you meet with Thranduil and show him you're serious about an alliance!"

Thorin stepped closer, his face in an ugly sneer, "I suppose he wants the Arkenstone in exchange for help?"

"No, he didn't say –"

"They will have to pry it from my dead hands first," the dwarf snarled as if Bilbo had been the one to suggest it.

"Thorin, for pity's sake, your cousin and his men will die! We'll die and Erebor will be lost to you again, is your pride really worth that?" Bilbo gestured wildly to the air, praying to anyone who would listen to help his friend see sense.

The dwarf raised his left hand and for a moment Bilbo thought he was going to be hit, but the fist grabbed at his shirt and yanked him forward.

"Pride has nothing to do with it," Thorin snarled as Kili jumped up looking utterly lost at what to do.

Bilbo knew if they fought, he would lose. Not because he was a poor fighter or weaker than Thorin, though that certainly didn't help, it was because no matter what the dwarf did, Bilbo would never hurt his friend. Not even when said friend was clearly losing his mind.

"Pride has everything to do with it," the hobbit snarled right back, "you would rather let everyone you know die than give up some shiny pieces of metal just because they belong to you."

"You know nothing, Bilbo Baggins, nothing," Thorin pulled him up further until his toes were barely touching the ground.

"Let go of me, Thorin," Bilbo brought his hand up to Thorin's and tried to remove the fist from his shirt.

"Or you'll do what? Go run off to the elves?"

"Uncle!" Kili said desperately, his eyes wide as his gazed shifted rapidly between Bilbo and Thorin.

"I said let go, Thorin."

Something in the dwarf's eyes flickered and his hand snapped open, Thorin looked down at the appendage almost as if in shock for the briefest moment. Bilbo's gazed followed Thorin's and that's when he saw it, the sky blue gem resting snugly atop his friend's finger. It was… it was the ring, Thror's ring! The one Gandalf had expressly told him never to let Thorin wear.

'Oh no, no, no…'

"You put it on?" Bilbo tried to make a grab for the hand, to pull the ring off, but the dwarf jerked his hand away.

"Thorin! You weren't supposed to put it on! Gandalf said it was dangerous!" Bilbo made another grab for the ring but missed a second time, "You have to take it off right now!"

"I have to do nothing," the dwarf spat at him, "it was my grandfathers ring, it is the only thing I have left of him and I will wear it if I so choose!"

"Gandalf said it was dangerous! He told me never to let you put it on, Thorin!" Bilbo's eyes were stuck on the glittering gem, "He wouldn't have said that for no reason!"

"First you would have me give up the Arkenstone," Thorin's words dripped with acid, "and now you would have me give up my only heirloom? I wonder whose side you're on."

Bilbo felt as if he had been slapped and the anger left him, "I'm on your side, Thorin! I just want – I just want to help you!"

"I don't need your help," Thorin turned to stalk out of the room, "and I never have."

It was that blasted ring! He knew it was! It had to be! Thorin must have – must have put it on the night they'd heard of Smaug's demise. That was the only way he could account for Thorin's change in behavior, why his friend had had seemed so dark and aggressive, if the ring was that dangerous, maybe it… maybe it could cause changes in a person. If only he knew about… the note! Maybe it was still in Thorin's room.

Bilbo wheeled around and ran to the door that led to his friend's old room, ignoring Kili's shout behind him. He yanked open the handle and barreled inside, he sprinted towards the desk and started to shove off the maps and books, frantically searched for the letter that had come with the ring. He hadn't thought much of it at the time; he never thought that Thorin would put it on if he said it was dangerous.

The hobbit threw everything off the table until there was nothing left but nothing had been the right size or the right paper to be what he searched for. He started on the shelves and the cabinet but still found nothing. He'd slumped to the floor, about ready to give up when he spotted something under the table. Crawling forward, Bilbo reached under until his fingers grasped the parchment and he pulled it out.

It was… yes! This was it! Bilbo quickly unfolded the letter and started to read Gandalf's messy scrawl.

Thorin

I have left this in the possession of Mister Baggins to give to you when he feels you are ready to possess it. I know you will take this only as affirmation of what you perceive to be my meddling, so I hope you will trust enough in Mister Baggins to at least heed his words if you will not heed my own. This was the ring of your grandfather Thror. I had thought the ring had been destroyed but when I found your father in the fortress of Dol Goldur and he bequeathed unto me the map and key, he also gave me this to keep safe. The ring, as you know, was one of the Seven given to your people under the guise of a gift but they were corrupted by a dark lord. The ring will twist your thoughts, turning friend to foe, it will make your greed insatiable and poison your mind until it is filled with nothing but dark deeds. Your grandfather was particularly resistant to its power, but even you must remember the gold lust that began to fill his thoughts when the ring was passed to him. You are not weak, Thorin Oakenshield, but your mind is vulnerable from the losses you have suffered. I fear that should you put the ring on, it will find your thoughts easy to manipulate. It is your birthright to own the ring, but not to wear it. You must guard it, from yourself and others, or its influence will corrupt the line of Durin until there is nothing left.

-Gandalf

Bilbo stared at the letter for what felt like hours. If Thorin had read this, and he almost doubted the dwarf had, it would have done nothing but infuriate him. Thorin would have read this as a challenge, not a warning, and put the ring on just to prove something to himself or Gandalf. And he'd given it to Thorin. He'd put that infernal thing right into Thorin's hands and just walked away like it was nothing. The hobbit clutched the letter tightly as dread flooded through him. At least he knew that it wasn't Thorin's fault,that his friend hadn't suddenly gone man. That the dwarf he loved was still somewhere inside.

The hobbit stood up, running out of the room again. He had to get that ring off Thorin or he might lose him forever. Bilbo ran past very confused looking members of the company who had just started to filter back to camp. He turned down the great passage towards the treasure room. He knew Thorin would be searching for the Arkenstone there. He ran and ran, dodging some piles of rubble and hitting others but he wouldn't slow, not now that he knew what to do.

His breathing was labored as he reached the archway to the treasure room, Smaug's torches still lit, casting the gold to reflect glittering dots across the ceiling like some sort of shimmering night sky.

"Thorin!" He called out as he skidded into the room. He saw nothing but could hear the faint 'thunk' of metal hitting metal from deep inside the room. Somehow he knew, no matter how much the ring had corrupted Thorin's mind, his friend wouldn't be by Frerin's bones. Bilbo walked around mounds and mounds of treasure until he was near the opposite corner of the room. He rounded another pile of gold when he saw Thorin hunched over a massive pile and appeared to be throwing every piece this way and that so he could search deeper within.

"Thorin…" Bilbo approached his friend's back, determined that he would get that damn thing off; but the dwarf didn't seem to hear him, too absorbed in his task.

"Thorin," the hobbit repeated as he stepped closer, reaching out until his finger lightly tapped one of the dwarf's shoulders.

Thorin jerked away at the touch. "What do you want?" his voice sounded cold and foreign in Bilbo's ears.

The hobbit pushed his hand forward and gripped his friend's sleeve, pulling the fabric until Thorin was facing him. The dwarf looked up at him from under his furrowed brows, his teeth bared. Bilbo took a deep breath steadying himself for whatever came next. All he knew was that whoever was looking at him now wasn't the same man who he had journeyed with, who he had befriended, who he had come to love.

"Thorin you need to take off the ring." Though his confidence felt like it was hanging on the edge of a knife, Bilbo looked his friend straight in the eyes, refusing to blink.

The dwarf shoved him away again and resumed his task, throwing piece after piece of treasure out of his path and leaving Bilbo's hand holding nothing but empty air.

"Please, please just take it off," the hobbit moved so he was on his friend's other side now, trying his best to make Thorin look at him.

Silence.

"I read the letter, Thorin, that thing —" Bilbo's eyes fixed on the gem. He wanted to take it off him, to tear it away and throw it to the ground, to shatter the false innocence it had the audacity to glint with, as if it were just another common jewel. "That thing is poisoning you! Can't you feel it? Can't you see what it's done to you?"

The dwarf remained silent for so long Bilbo thought he was being completely ignored but then Thorin spoke again, a harsh edge to his voice. "You think I'm weak, is that it? You think me some fool that believes the words of an old man simply because he professes to be wise?"

"No, of course I don't!" Bilbo felt the frustration, the sadness start to leak back in his voice, "but Gandalf is right, it's – it's evil, Thorin!"

Thorin let out a cold laugh, "Evil? It's a ring, nothing more."

"Then take it off!" Bilbo pleaded, his voice starting to shake with some mixture of desperation and helpless panic, "if it's just a ring, then why can't you just take it off damn it!"

"Because," the dwarf his, finally turning to face Bilbo, "it is symbol, just as the Arkenstone is a symbol. It proves that I am the rightful heir, that Erebor is mine, that I am strong!"

The hobbit backed away instinctually, trying to get away from Thorin's rage, "You don't need a ring for that—"

Thorin brandished his left hand in Bilbo's face, waving it angrily, "It proves that I have survived and I will do what my grandfather and father could not! You could never understand."

Bilbo felt the frustrated tears coming back to his eyes even though he tried with all his might to keep them at bay. His gaze left Thorin's eyes and locked on the ring. Anger washed over him like a great wave. It was the ring's fault. It was the ring's fault he was losing Thorin and Thorin was about to lose Erebor.

But it was his fault most of all. His fault for putting the damn thing in his friend's hands. For giving him something he should have known Thorin wouldn't be able to resist. And that fact cut him deeper than any sword ever could. Hurt his heart more than Smaug's flames could ever hope to.

Bilbo lunged for Thorin's hand.

He would get it off even if he had to wrestle it off his friend's hand. He would fix this because it he didn't, that would mean the dwarves would be massacred, cut to pieces by cruel orc blades. But that wasn't entirely true. A small, selfish part of his mind whispered as he reached out a hand. What he feared most of all, more than the deaths of a thousand soldiers from the Iron Hills, was the death of Thorin. The deaths of Fili and Kili. The deaths of all the friends he'd made on this journey.

For one glorious moment his fingers connected with the cool metal of the ring, his body colliding with Thorin's as the dwarf grunted in surprise. They fell over in a tangle of limbs on top of side of the nearest pile of treasure and rolled down to the stone ground. Bilbo closed his hand around the ring and pulled, pulled harder than he had anything in his life, but as he yanked the jewel, he could have sworn the metal band tightened somehow.

Thorin tried to pull his hand away but succeeded in only pulling the hobbit up slightly off the ground. He let out a furious snarl and Bilbo couldn't help his eyes snapping to Thorin's face as he pulled. They weren't blue anymore. They were black. Blacker than night, blacker than the dead hallways of Erebor. Fear shot through him and Bilbo couldn't breath, he couldn't breath –

And then he felt the fingers around his neck. Thorin's right hand had come down and gripped Bilbo's throat like a vice. He tried to take a breath in but all he could manage was a light rasp. He let go of the ring, bringing both his hands to the dwaf's wrist, scrabbling against the skin but nothing he did loosened Thorin's fist.

Black dots started to fill his vision as his head began to swim. "Thor…" he choked out as his hands lost their strength, his fingers no longer able to claw at the dwarf's wrist.

"Please…"

This wasn't Thorin. The dwarf he knew was gone, the ring had twisted his mind and all that was left was the worst in him. The pride, the greed, the anger. There was no gentleness left, only a dark obsession.

The hobbit's hands slide down and rested gently the dwarf's hand as he felt the last of his air leave him. Bilbo had done this. Thorin hadn't been ready to withstand whatever dark influence this ring had on him and Bilbo had practically forced it on him. He had torn out all the goodness in Thorin and left his friend a cruel stranger. He had done this to the man he loved.

"I'm…" one last hot tear slid down his face, "s—" he tried to take one last breath but nothing came in as the world grew dark, "…sorry."

Then the fingers were gone and beautiful, sweet air flooded into his lungs as he gasped. He saw Thorin's eyes bleed blue just before he rolled over taking shuddering breaths. Bilbo closed his eyes, hands reaching up shakily to his neck. He lay there for a minute just trying to breathe, trying to think, but the only thing he seemed capable of was getting just one more breath in until its pace started to steady.

"Leave me," Bilbo heard Thorin's rough voice from behind him.

He finally opened his eyes and saw his friend was hunched around himself, limbs as sharp and jagged as a knife. The hobbit sat up slowly, eyes fixed on Thorin's back but he didn't stand to leave, he couldn't bring himself to go.

"Leave me, you fool!" The dwarf shouted and threw a piece of treasure behind him, the goblet grazing just past Bilbo's check.

"Thorin…" Bilbo's voice as unrecognizable even to him, a faint rasp that hurt with each syllable.

The sound of his name seemed to only enrage Thorin further who let out a sound like some wounded animal, "I said leave!" The dwarf whirled around and began to pelt golden objects at Bilbo.

The hobbit sprang up as fast as he could trying to avoid the rain of metal. He stumbled back but he couldn't look away from Thorin. The opportunity to save his friend was shrinking so rapidly he started to doubt there had been any hope in the first place.

"Go!" the dwarf yelled as he threw a small locket. It sailed through the air and scraped Bilbo's face as he flew past. The pain of tearing skin, the shock of the impact sent a jolt through him. The hobbit turned around and ran, ran away from the storm of golden objects, away from Thorin. Bilbo stumbled around piles of gold, trying to shut out the dwarf's pained shouts from behind him.

The hobbit felt as if something infinitely large and wholly essential had been ripped out of him and all that was left was an empty, bleeding gash. He felt sad and angry and lost. So completely and utterly lost. He had failed the company, he'd doomed them all to an impossible war, but what was like death's cold claws ripping away at his insides was feeling like he'd lost Thorin.

He'd lost the one thing that mattered most to him in this world and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He wasn't strong enough or smart enough. He would die, the company would die, Thorin would die and for what? Some gold? A pretty stone? What was it all even for if it ended like this? If only he could just get his share of the treasure to Thranduil then maybe he could've bought time, time to find some other way, to – to free Thorin of whatever dark spell was upon him. But there was no way he could all that treasure by himself, there was no way he could convince enough of the dwarves to betray Thorin's direct orders. If only there was something small enough, something light enough that he…

Bilbo stumbled around a sharp turn between two mounds of gold near the entrance of the room. His foot fell on a stray platter resting on the ground and felt himself slipping right before he crashed into the pile. Bilbo clenched his eyes shut as a cascade of treasure fell down around him, pouring around him in a matter of seconds. The hobbit waited until the cacophony stopped and slowly opening his eyes. But what filled his vision wasn't darkness or gold. It was a bright, iridescent blue light.

The hobbit blinked several times and looked down. In his lap was the single most beautiful stone he'd ever seen. It made the jewel on Thror's ring seem like some common pebble in comparison. Life itself seemed to shine out of the center, a soft white light curling out from the center, swirling around the blue as if the stone itself were alive. It was stunning. It was breathtaking. It was…

No. No it couldn't be.

But as he started at it transfixed, he knew deep in his heart that it was. Bilbo cupped it in both hands, feeling his mouth fall open in shock.

It was the Arkenstone.