Dwalin looked around frantically, trying to catch sight of coppery blond curls. He felt sick when he thought that perhaps Bilbo had fallen when they were caught or perhaps he was stolen away—or fell off the cliff to his death.
Dwalin forced down the worry feeding off of him as they were restrained. They were all trying to push the goblins off them as the goblins drove the torture devices closer. A goblin shrieked, pushing Thorin's elfish sword away.
The goblins screamed and backed away from it. The Goblin King shouted demands to forgo the torture and to kill them.
Two goblins restrained Dwalin, whipping him with chains as they were the others. White light blinded him, blasting the Goblins off.
"Take up arms!" Gandalf ordered, "Fight!" Dwalin reached for his ax, handing Ori his war hammer. The lad couldn't fight off this foe with just slingshots.
They ran, cutting down as many goblins as they could.
"Post!" Dwalin shouted, wrenching a wooden log from its bindings. Fili, Kili, and a few others stood behind him and helped him carry it, knocking down goblins in their way.
They were close. Almost out—the goblin king cut them off, mocking Gandalf.
Gandalf slew the giant, fat, horrifically ugly goblin. The path out of Goblin Town was close, but they had to run. Once out, Dwalin searched. Now in the open, he could see that Bilbo was indeed missing.
"Where is your hobbit?!" Gandalf demanded. His gaze went straight to Dwalin.
"We can't go back for him. It'd be suicide!"
"How could you leave him behind?" Gandalf demanded. "What happened to him?"
"Oh I'm sure he's fine!" Thorin shouted, snarling. "He's thought nothing of his warm hearth and bed since we set out!"
Dwalin doubted it. It did not sound like Bilbo at all. Still, his doubt that Bilbo left gave way to doubt that he still lived.
"No." Bilbo smiled at them. "Sorry. I fell behind. I'm okay."
"How did you get away?"
Bilbo shrugged.
"What does it matter?" Gandalf said, appraising Bilbo.
"It matters," Thorin hissed. "I want to know why you came back."
Bilbo stared at him. "I know you doubt me and always have. I know you question my abilities. And you are right: I do miss the Shire more than I thought I would. But that's why I came back. I have a home, but you…don't, so I'll help you get it back if I can. Besides," he crossed his arms. "What sort of person would I be to leave my family like that?" he asked. He shifted his gaze to Balin and Dwalin.
Balin approached him, clapping his back. "We're glad you're all right, Brother."
Dwalin wasn't sure what to say. I'm glad you're all right. Don't scare me like that again. Are you okay? Are you hurt? There were too many possibilities to what he could say and he couldn't voice bring any of them.
Warg howls bit through the silence. They ran. The night was coming and who knows what would happen next. They ran to the edge of a cliff surrounded by weathered pines.
They climbed up to avoid the Wargs. Dwalin searched for Bilbo, relieved to find him in a tree.
"Azog," Thorin whispered. Dwalin spied the Pale Orc. His blood ran cold.
"Impossible. This is impossible!"
"Why is he alive?"
The wargs attacked the trees, uprooting them. The others jumped to the next tree, which fell over, like dominos. Only one tree was left standing with all of them. Bilbo was on a branch higher up.
"Throw these," Gandalf demanded, handing out flaming pinecones. They lit the ground before them, and managed to hit a few wargs, who ran for water. They felt victorious, but only for a moment. The roots broke and the tree fell, hanging only by a single, strong root.
They hung for dear life, fire burning the dry ground on the cliff. Thorin stood and ran at Azog, knocked down by the white coated bitch Azog rode upon.
Dwalin tried to get off. The branch under him broke and he scrambled to get a hold again. Naked feet, covered in fur, ran past him.
Bilbo pummeled into one of Azog's henchmen, stabbing him in the chest until he died. He stood between Thorin and Azog, the small dagger aglow.
Thorin did not move, strength giving out to the pain.
Azog growled something to the others. Dwalin ran after him, the others following as they could. They rammed into the Orcs and the Wargs.
Dwalin felt claws grab him, dropping him off the cliff and landing on the back of an eagle. Certain of his own safety, he looked about for Bilbo and Balin. Seeing them alive, he sighed.
They flew all night, landing on a rock high above the forest.
"The Halfling?" Thorin demanded.
"Bilbo's here," Gandalf assured him, "He's all right."
Thorin struggled to his feet, staring at Bilbo. "What were you doing?"
Dwalin growled, taking a step toward Thorin. Balin held him back, shaking his head. Dwalin would have to yell at Thorin later—
"I've never been so wrong in all my life!" Thorin embraced Bilbo.
Dwalin sighed. Jealousy burned inside him, though he bit it back. Thorin released Bilbo and they looked at the distance. Any negative emotions Dwalin felt melted away when they spied Erebor in the distance.
#
"Where exactly are we going?" Dwalin asked when they reached the ground floor.
"To Beorn's, Master Dwalin," Gandalf said. Thorin limped beside him, wincing. "Beorn is a friend of Radagast's. We should be welcomed, I expect."
Bilbo ran to Dwalin's and Balin's side, walking between them.
"What should we expect from him?" Bilbo asked.
"If all goes well, we will have food and shelter."
"And if not?" Leave it to Bilbo to voice their fears.
Gandalf glanced at him, face dark. "We will deal with it if it becomes unfavorable." He smiled. "I have a plan that will make sure this meeting goes in our favor, Master Baggins."
Dwalin sure hoped so.
As the peace of having escaped their predators filled him, he began to wonder what had gone on in Bilbo's head during the Orc attack. Bilbo had not said anything about it. He had not said anything about what happened in Goblin Town, or on the cliff.
He didn't know how to approach it. Straightforward could put him on the defense, and he didn't want Bilbo to pull away from him any more than he already had.
They met with Beorn, the bear-man, who had too much fun calling Bilbo a bunny, which Bilbo huffed at indignantly. He fed them, gave them rooms, and commanded they stay inside while he investigated their story.
Dwalin's curiosity burned and as night came closer, he finally decided to ask.
"So, what happened?" Dwalin asked. He pulled off his knuckle busters. They clattered on the table.
"I got away from the Goblins and found a way out before catching up," Bilbo summarized. He folded his coat, laying it on the chair.
"I meant after all that, with the Orcs. You could have died."
"But I didn't and someone had to help Thorin. He was about to be killed!"
"So you decided to put yourself in danger instead? You're not a warrior, Bilbo, so tell me why you decided to help?"
"It was a spur of the moment decision!" Bilbo snapped. Dwalin backed away, hands up. He had not meant to put Bilbo on the defensive. "Someone had to do something! Most of us were still stuck in the blasted tree! I was small enough to get out of it fast enough and I just…" Bilbo slumped his shoulders, looking at the floor. "I don't know what I was thinking then, Dwalin. I'm sorry I worried you. I just acted."
Dwalin sat on the bed. "I think we need to talk."
Bilbo tensed. "I told you that if you like we can terminate the marriage after the mountain's reclaimed."
Terminate.
Two, almost three months ago, that word was just a word and held no weight.
Now it seemed like a knife plunging into Dwalin's chest.
"That isn't what I want to discuss," Dwalin assured him. "Will you look at me? Or are you still upset about Rivendell?"
Bilbo did not answer, only tensing more. He did not shift his gaze.
Dwalin stood and approached him.
"Bilbo?" Dwalin placed his hand on Bilbo's shoulder and gently turned him.
Bilbo still gazed at the floor.
Dwalin tilted his head up to meet his gaze. Tears streamed down Bilbo's cheeks. "Why are you crying?"
"Does it matter?"
"It matters. What's wrong?"
Bilbo bit his lip, averting his eyes from Dwalin. "I…just…I…" Dwalin brushed away the tears with his thumbs. "I love you," Bilbo whispered. "I don't know when I…before Rivendell…but…"
Dwalin sighed, lowering his hands from Bilbo's face, resting them on his shoulders. "I love you, too." Bilbo blinked. "I was so scared when you almost fell off the mountain, Bilbo. I've never felt that kind of fear before. Then I spoke with Thorin…I got jealous…you don't need to know what we spoke about, but know that our conversation that night…That was when I realized I loved you."
Bilbo stared at Dwalin. "What?"
"I love you, Bilbo. That is what I wanted to talk to you about. I love you. You've no idea what that means for Dwarves. My people…they love strongly and fiercely. We're possessive of what and whom we love by nature. Bilbo, you're brave. You're strong. You're quick on both feet and in mind. And I'm honored to call you my husband. So this time, I ask you if you'd be my husband."