Many many thanks to my reviewers, both public and private! You guys keep me going. I'm so glad y'all are enjoying this one!

This one is a bit longer. Sorry, folks, but I couldn't bear to split up this part...

NINE

The wee hours of the morning saw them stealing away from Rivendell while the White Council met and their departure would be unhindered. Bofur contrived to be near Nori, at least at the start, but it became quite difficult as fast as they were moving themselves along. Dwalin stayed near Thorin, as was his duty, but he spent the evenings sitting with Ori, chatting about anything that seemed to strike their fancies. Dwalin was surprisingly knowledgeable about many things, including Dwarven law, and that fascinated Ori no end.

Nori spent most of those two weeks contriving instances where he and Bofur could be alone. He'd hoped if he could get enough – and it seemed he'd never get enough of his miner – that he'd be able to walk away. It only seemed to serve to bring them closer together and he was still fighting that with all his might.

Bofur was just enjoying the time he had with Nori. He was doing as asked, and remaining discreet, but the more often Nori sought him out the more hope grew in him. And at night, sometimes, when they enjoyed their after dinner pipes and whatnot, he would catch the thief staring at him, a bemused expression on his face. It was quickly hidden, of course, but still there to be seen by anyone who knew him well.

Then came the stone giants. Bofur couldn't get to Nori, couldn't get away from his perch on the rock, and the company was separated in half by the things. And Nori was on the other side.

He had a few bad moments where he thought his heart would simply stop beating, where he was sure there was nothing left... but then they saw that the others were alive. Then he thought it might burst with relief.

He heard Thorin's words to their Hobbit and his eyes widened at them. How could Thorin be so cruel? "He's been lost ever since he left home. He should never have come. He has no place amongst us." That wasn't true! Bilbo had saved them from being eaten by the trolls, had stalled for time to allow Gandalf to deal with them. He had earned his place.

He resolved to talk to the little one as soon as they stopped. He heard Thorin calling about shelter and helped the Hobbit to his feet and into the cave.

They settled down at Thorin's orders, each Dwarf finding a spot to himself, and Thorin ordered Bofur to take the first watch. He almost refused; the words Thorin had thrown at Bilbo still rankled within him and he wondered if he was alone in his feeling that Thorin had been an arse. Probably not. But he didn't refuse; Thorin was still his King and he would be treated with respect, even if what he wanted was to beat him.

He had thought it would be an uneventful watch, curled into his little alcove, but then Bilbo walked past him. He'd have thought the burglar was answering natural needs if he hadn't had his pack and sword both strapped on and his walking stick in hand. "Where do you think yer going?" he asked quickly.

"Back to Rivendell" was the answer and Bofur got up in a hurry.

"Ye can't turn back now, aye? Yer part of the company. Yer one of us."

"I'm not, now am I?" There was pain in Bilbo's voice, Bofur could hear it, and not a little anger. "Thorin said I should never have come and he was right. I'm not a Took, I'm a Baggins. I don't know what I was thinking. I should never have run out my door."

Bofur was again struck by the change in the little one. He spoke again, not sure what his words would mean to Bilbo. "Yer homesick! I understand."

It got a reaction but not the one he'd hoped for. "No, you don't, none of you do, you're Dwarves! You're used to, to this life, living on the road, never settling in one place, never belonging anywhere!" His words were furious and then he softened, unsettled by what he had said to the usually merry Dwarf. "I'm sorry, I didn't..." His voice trailed off uncertainly.

Bofur looked thunderstruck and it took him a moment to speak again. "No, you're right." He looked around at the company, spread out across the cave floor, sleeping as they had become used to on hard packed earth and stone. "We don't belong anywhere." He turned back to Bilbo, his pain hidden save for his eyes. "I wish ye all the luck in the world." Bilbo looked up at him and Bofur put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I really do."

He would have said nothing else, would have allowed the Hobbit to leave, even though Thorin would have been utterly and completely furious at what he saw as a betrayal. Then he saw the glow from Bilbo's little sword. "What's that?"

Then they were falling.

There were goblins. And the possibility of torture. He wormed his way next to Nori, silently offering his support when the Goblin King was questioning them.

They almost lost their lives when Orcrist was discovered. Thorin was down, they all were, goblins tearing at them, biting, trying to savage them, and there was a flash of light and a booming sound, and then they were up and running, following Gandalf along the passages.

Running, running along the catwalks, desperately trying to cut their way through to the outside. Bofur tried to keep sight of Nori, unaware the thief was desperately trying to find him as well. Ori had been given Dwalin's hammer, and he seemed to use it to good effect, defending himself and anyone else who was near. They were all fighting hard, running hard, and trying to reach the outside before they could be overwhelmed.

Finally they were out, out into the setting sun, running down the mountainside to relative safety. Once they stopped, Gandalf was making a tally of them and they discovered that Bilbo was missing. "Where is Bilbo," he demanded suddenly. "Where is our Hobbit?" His voice grew stronger when everyone had looked around, but Bilbo was nowhere to be seen. "Where is our Hobbit?"

"Curse the Halfling! Now he's lost?" Dwalin's voice dripped with scorn. "I thought he was with Dori!"

"Don't blame me!" Dori snapped back.

"Well where did you last see him?" Gandalf asked suddenly.

Nori spoke then. He couldn't remain silent when the Hobbit might still be in danger from the goblins. "I think I saw him slip away when they first collared us." He looked over to Bofur who had his eyes closed, as though the thought of losing Bilbo hurt him. That hurt Nori but he couldn't go to the miner, not now. He would comfort his Bofur later, when there was time. Right now they would need to find Bilbo.

"What happened exactly?" Gandalf demanded again. "Tell me!"

"I'll tell you what happened," Thorin growled suddenly. "Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it. He has thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out of his door. We'll not be seeing our Hobbit again. He is long gone."

There was a silence while everyone looked around at each other, surprised by the venom in Thorin's voice. Bofur was reminded of the mountainside, when Thorin had been so harsh to poor Bilbo without even seeming to notice. Now, he certainly knew what he was saying and the miner wanted to throttle him. He wouldn't; Thorin was his King. But he was certainly tempted. He looked to Nori for strength to find the thief staring back at him, disbelief in his face as well.

And then Bilbo stepped out from behind a tree. "No, he isn't," he said quietly.

Everyone gave a start of surprise. Bofur heaved a huge sigh of relief and even Nori was affected by the burglar's reappearance. Gandalf leaned heavily on his staff, smiling. "Bilbo Baggins! I have never been so glad to see anyone in my life!"

Bilbo moved among them then, coming closer to the center of the group, but not close to Thorin. Each of the Dwarves watched him. "Bilbo!" Kíli began quickly. "We'd given you up!"

"How on earth did you get past the goblins?" Fíli asked curiously.

"How, indeed," Dwalin said wonderingly. He had thought the Hobbit too fragile for the wild. To see him standing there, hale and whole, was a bit of a shock.

Bilbo fiddled with his pockets a bit and Gandalf spoke again. "Well, what does it matter? He's back."

Thorin spoke again, his voice a bit strange for a moment. "It matters. I want to know." His voice softened slightly. "Why did you come back?"

Bilbo regarded him steadily for several moments before speaking again. He was obviously choosing his words carefully. "I know you doubt me. I know, I know you always have. And you're right, I often think of Bag End." He shrugged a little. "I miss my books. My armchair. My garden." He kept his eyes on Thorin's face, watching the impassiveness there, and yet seeing the Dwarf's eyes soften slightly. "See, that's where I belong. That's home." Another shrug. "That's why I came back. Because... you don't have one. A home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can."

Thorin had the good grace to look down for a moment before meeting Bilbo's gaze again, acceptance of the Hobbit's words in his eyes. It humbled him a bit to hear the little one speak so matter of factly about such a thing as taking back their home. It wasn't going to be easy, and it wasn't going to be painless. And yet, he was willing to endure as much as they for something he had never seen, something dear to his friends but not him. Yes, it was humbling indeed.

All of them were watching Bilbo with varying degrees of surprise. And each one of them, in turn, had to look away. Their Hobbit was certainly more than he seemed, to escape from goblins and then promise such a thing as helping with the dragon. Yes, he was worthy of their respect and not their scorn.

A sound from the ridge above them caught their attention then, and they heard Black Speech before wargs descended toward them.

"Out of the frying pan," Thorin exclaimed softly, his face betraying his apprehension.

"And into the fire," Gandalf agreed. "Run. Run!"

They didn't need a second shout. All of them were running again, headed for the trees further down, hoping to be able to elude the monsters and knowing they would have to fight. But when they came to a sheer drop, there was no help for it. Gandalf shouted again. "All of you, into the trees! Climb!"

So they climbed. Even Bilbo was able to get up into the heights, away from the wargs. However, that didn't stop the creatures. They began leaping at the trees, biting at the branches, knocking into them, loosening them, knocking them over.

Then a pale Orc astride a white warg came forward, speaking the Black Speech of Mordor, and Thorin startled badly. "Azog," he breathed. His lip curled slightly as he watched the thing speak. It mentioned his father, Thrain, and he shook his head. "It cannot be..."

The wargs came on again. They bit at the branches, they did everything they could to reach the Dwarves, but couldn't. Then they started working together, pushing at the base of the trees, loosening them more, finally managing to knock them down. Dwalin held onto Ori as their tree slid into another, taking the lad with him, keeping him safe. Nori and Bofur leapt from one to another, always keeping an eye on each other, staying together as much as they could. Finally everyone was in the last remaining tree at the edge of the precipice. And the wargs just kept coming.

Gandalf took a pine cone and set fire to it, then provided more of the flaming projectiles to the rest of the Company. They threw them at the wargs, knowing the animals feared the fire and hoping to drive them back. Before long, the ground was ablaze, and the wargs retreated in fear.

The tree slipped further and Ori lost his grip. He would have fallen to his death save for Dori, who clung to his branch, feet dangling and Ori grabbed them tightly, holding desperately, while Dori called for help from Gandalf. Gandalf got his staff to Dori in time, barely, before both would have crashed downward into the abyss. Dori held on tightly.

Nori exchanged a glance with Bofur, his eyes unreadable, before reaching out his hand to take the miner's. Whatever else happened, if they were to die here, as seemed likely, they would die together. It was enough. Bofur gave him a small, sad smile and tightened his fingers around Nori's.

Thorin's rage knew no limits. His people were in deadly danger, and this Orc, this THING, was responsible. He rose, his feet somehow finding purchase on the bark of the trunk, and started toward Azog. At first, it was a deliberate movement, stalking forward, watching Azog with hatred, but then it became a faster walk, a jog, and finally a full out sprint as he approached the pale Orc, Orcrist raised high, ready to strike.

Azog struck first. He urged his warg to leap from the outcropping they'd stood on, reaching Thorin in one bound, the warg's paw slamming into him and knocking him to the ground with a look of surprise. Thorin rose unsteadily, setting himself again, and Azog roared past him, heavy mace raised, and struck him on the upper chest, sending him once more to the ground. The other Dwarves were screaming, in fear of their precarious perch and in panic for their King. Bilbo rose from where he had lain on the tree trunk and watched, horror in his face as the warg grabbed Thorin in its powerful jaws, shaking him like a rag doll.

Thorin was screaming in pain, Dwalin trying to reach him only to nearly fall himself. Azog smiled, a wicked grimace, thinking the Dwarf King was finally defeated, and then Thorin raised Orcrist and let it bite deeply into the warg's snout. It tossed him away, retreating from the pain, and Thorin landed hard on the outcropping, knocking the breath from him.

The others couldn't reach him in time. They were close, so close, desperately trying to get there, to protect him, but many of them were still stuck hanging on for dear life, trying not to fall. Dori still clung to Gandalf's staff, his considerable strength starting to wane.

Azog spoke to one of the lesser Orcs, Black Speech harsh in the nearly silent clearing, and it dismounted and headed for Thorin, sword in hand. It measured the stroke, first touching Thorin's throat with the sharp edge and then raising it high while Thorin desperately tried to reach Orcrist, which remained stubbornly out of his reach.

It seemed it was all over when the Orc's sword started downward -

- and then Bilbo was there. He barreled into the Orc, tiny sword flashing, stabbing and stabbing until it was dead. Thorin barely registered the Hobbit's attack before finally losing consciousness.

Bilbo stood his ground before Azog, who considered him carefully before smiling that wicked smile once more. It was obvious the Hobbit had no idea how to wield his weapon; he slashed the air before him, defending Thorin, trying to warn off the Orcs, who continued to advance.

Shouts of fury and Dwarven battle cries filled the night as Fíli, Kíli, and Dwalin slammed into the Orcs, driving them backward. Bilbo joined in with a will, helping them to slash and hack at the enemy, keeping them from Thorin until Azog's warg got too close and flung him aside. The breath was knocked out of him and he was forced to simply watch as it came closer, stunned and nearly helpless.

Dori lost his grip and fell, taking Ori with him, and Nori screamed then, a lost, anguished sound as Bofur grabbed him to keep him from falling with them. He saw something in the darkness, a winged shape, and then Dori and Ori were being carried away by a giant eagle. "They're alive, Nori, they're alive," he kept reassuring his thief as he pointed out the bird on which they rode.

Eagles were suddenly everywhere, stooping in to attack the Orcs, fanning the flames with their wings, driving away those they could not kill. Each seemed bent on the total destruction of the Orcs, but Azog remained untouched as one of the eagles, with a clear screech of defiance, swooped down and gathered up Thorin. It held him securely in its talons as it bore him away and Azog howled with rage as another grabbed Bilbo. Still others were taking the remaining Dwarves, carrying them far, far from the scene of this horrific battle.

They flew for hours until they reached a high point in the land, a stony outcropping of a cliff. There they landed and were put down, and the birds rose into the air, giving them room. Gandalf hurried to Thorin's side, one hand just above his forehead, murmuring soft words of healing while Bilbo watched pensively and then Thorin opened his eyes.

Gandalf gave a huge sigh of relief. Thorin's voice was soft. "The Halfling?" he questioned thickly.

"It's all right," Gandalf replied with a small smile. "Bilbo is here. He's quite safe."

Thorin struggled to rise, Dwalin and Kíli both supporting him until he shrugged them off. Bofur stood behind, ready to assist if it became necessary, but their King seemed fairly steady on his feet. And Nori stood near his miner, his thoughts whirling madly in his head, trying to figure out what to do. But his attention was drawn, as was everyone's, by Thorin's sudden verbal attack on their Hobbit.

"You!" he snarled. Bilbo's face fell. "What were you doing?" Thorin continued angrily and Bilbo looked around for support or at least refuge from this harangue. "You almost got yourself killed." Thorin's voice softened, but not the ire behind it. "Did I not say you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the Wild? That you had no place amongst us?"

Bilbo looked completely heartbroken before Thorin lowered his voice, the words now kind and apologetic. "I have never been so wrong in all my life," he said simply as he folded the startled Hobbit into a tight embrace.

Bilbo's arms went about him in return and they simply stood for a moment before Thorin finally set him away and looked him over for injuries. "But I'm sorry I doubted you."

Bilbo shook his head. "No, I would have doubted me, too. I'm not a hero or a warrior. Not even a burglar." The last was said with an arch glance to Gandalf who merely gave that tiny smile once more. Thorin was smiling, too, the expression strange to those who hadn't had much occasion to see it. Bofur clapped Nori on the back, his smile wide, and the thief again placed his hand in the miner's, seemingly uncaring for the moment that others might see. Ori stayed close behind Dwalin, offering support though he knew the big Dwarf was watching Thorin, as was his duty, though it seemed nothing could harm them in this place. It was as secure as it could be. The eagles wheeled past once more, giving a bright cry before departing and Thorin focused suddenly on something in the distance.

"Is that what I think it is?" Bilbo queried softly before Thorin moved painfully further up the rocks to stand at the top, simply staring at the mountain in the distance.

"Erebor," Gandalf explained quietly. "The Lonely Mountain. The last of the great Dwarf Kingdoms of Middle Earth."

Thorin's face betrayed nothing of the joy that had risen in his heart, though it was clearly felt among them. "Our home."

A bird chirped as it flew past and Oin spoke. "A raven! The birds are returning to the mountain."

Gandalf shook his head. "That, my dear Oin, is a thrush."

"But we'll take it as a sign." Thorin glanced down to the Hobbit with a tiny smile. "A good omen."

"You're right," Bilbo agreed with a small secretive smile of his own. "I do believe the worst is behind us."

Thorin collected himself, though it was still quite painful to move. "Let's get off this rock," he said quietly, and they began the trek down to the forest floor.