AN: Have yet another weeks worth of desperate scrambling to finish this in time! All scrambling aside, It is a little short than usual, though not by much. And I hope it's the same quality as usual. As always, I hope you enjoy!
OOOOO
Bilbo didn't realize he'd fallen asleep. But he was awoken fairly gently, by a soft singing. At first he didn't recognize the words, but after a few moments he realized it was Elvish. This led to the fairly obvious conclusion that it was Legolas watching over him. Which gave him a feeling of comfort, but at the same time, made him feel a little disappointed. If he was honest with himself, he wanted it to be Thorin sitting beside him, waiting for him to wake. He wanted Smaug to be wrong. He wanted Thorin to prove Smaug wrong. But it was increasing clear to him that the Dragon had not told him one single lie.
"Legolas?" Bilbo whispered, and the singing immediately stopped. When Bilbo finally accepted the fact that he should open his eyes, Legolas was the first thing he saw. The Elf was sitting beside him, looking at him expectantly, with a wide smile on his face.
"You're awake! I was worried... Do you need something? Water?" Bilbo couldn't help but let his lips quirk up at Legolas' mothering. But as quickly as it appeared, his smile was gone. He had no idea how long he had slept. But to him, it felt like mere seconds had passed since he had seen Smaug die before him. Smaug, the Dragon who had saved him from bleeding to death and then proceeded to care for him. Smaug, who was nothing like the Dwarves had portrayed him. Bilbo knew he should not feel sad for the death of a Dragon. But he did.
"Water." Bilbo murmured, his throat suddenly feeling quite dry. Legolas immediately reached for the nearby silver pitcher, and a cup. Bilbo's mind flashed with a similar scenario, and he suddenly felt the urge to find that golden cup Smaug had used to give him water. Just for sentimental reasons, really. He wondered if Thorin would let him have the cup. But, if Smaug was right, and Bilbo had no reason to assume he wasn't, then Thorin would probably laugh at him for making such a request.
Legolas balanced the cup on a level golden plate so he could help Bilbo sit up. Instantly Bilbo was reminded of the long fall he'd taken not too long ago. Throbbing pain spread all across his body, and he was certain he must have had bruises all over his back and legs. But the pain was all relatively dull, no broken bones then. But he could still feel pressure around his throat, and when he reached up, his fingers met with the smooth silver surface of the collar Smaug had put on him. The chain was much shorter now, it only dangled around his chest, but it made him whimper all the same.
"We haven't found the key yet. Balin said he would look for some metal cutters to break through it, because it's unlikely we ever will find the key in this madness." Legolas told him with a frown. "Until then, the only thing I can do to make you comfortable is apply some poultice to your bruises and under the collar, to keep it from chafing your skin." He offered.
"How long was I asleep?" Bilbo asked, rather than acknowledge the offer. He didn't want the salve. It felt wrong for him to so pathetically whine over aches and pains when Smaug was dead. There was no poultice for that. In a weird kind of way, he was glad the collar was still there to remind him of what had happened. It kept him a little grounded in his mourning because, the fact was, he should not be mourning at all. Smaug had collared him and treated him like a beloved pet. But yet Bilbo still mourned.
"A few hours. You were in shock, and Oin agreed that it would be best for you to rest for a while." Legolas explained, handing Bilbo the cup of water. The Hobbit didn't reply. He sipped at the water, the taste somewhat more metallic than it had been before. Maybe it was just because Smaug's death left a bad taste in his mouth, and a weight in his heart. He didn't want to use the word friend, but he had felt somewhat of an attachment to the Dragon. As odd and abnormal as that was.
"Where is everyone?" Bilbo finally realized after a few minutes that it was quiet, and apparently he and Legolas were the only ones in the treasury.
"Most of them have gone off to inspect the kingdom. See how much damage there is an how long it will take to rebuild. Balin and Dwalin went to the gate, to see if it's usable still. And the almighty Dwarf King is somewhere over that hill looking for the Arkenstone." Legolas said with distaste clear in his tone. Bilbo felt like a lump of lead had settled in his stomach, and the stone burned in his pocket. Should he tell Legolas? Should he tell any of them? He still wasn't sure what exactly he was going to do with the stone. He didn't just want to give it to Thorin, especially not when the Dwarf was in a questionable mental state. He was so confused.
"Has he been at it long?" Bilbo wasn't sure if he really wanted to know, but he had to ask anyways. Legolas' face told him everything he needed to know, but the Elf spoke as well.
"As soon as Smaug died, he began searching. He has not stopped yet." Legolas admitted in a whisper. "As soon as you are fit for travel, we're leaving Bilbo." Legolas added, in an even softer tone. Bilbo's face snapped towards him instantly.
"We can't just leave! My contract-"
"Bilbo, we are not arguing about this! You know that Thorin is changing, and based off what I know of the Madness of Durin's line, he is only going to get worse. I won't let anything happen you again." Legolas snarled, leaving no room for argument. Bilbo's eyes widened and watered, but he nodded, not wanting to argue anyways. Legolas sighed and cupped the Hobbit's face. "I've already let too many terrible things happen to you Bilbo. I'll be damned if I let Thorin Oakenshield hurt you."
"He wouldn't hurt me." Bilbo murmured, though it sounded weak even to him.
"I will not take that chance. Do you understand me?" Bilbo nodded, trying not to look like he was pouting. "I'm going to go find Oin. Do you think you can come with me?" Bilbo shook his head. His legs felt like jelly, and he wasn't even standing. Legolas sighed, but stood. "Stay right here then. I'll be back in a few minutes with something for your bruises." Bilbo gave half a nod as acknowledgment and watched Legolas walk away. Once the Elf was out of his sight, he looked down at his arms. The hundreds of scars stared back at him accusingly. The newest ones, though they all looked old and healed due to Smaug, were especially hard to look at.
Bilbo wondered if he should tell them about what he did. How he got captured by Smaug in the first place. But for the first time in weeks, they weren't worried about him cutting himself. At least not outwardly worried. But the longer he sat, staring at his arms and thinking about Smaug, the more his blood raced, and the more his skin itched. All things considered, it had hardly been two days since he had nearly killed himself, and he shouldn't even think of cutting himself now. But he still remembered exactly where that bejeweled dagger was, and he felt he deserved it more than ever, after everything that had happened with Smaug.
Standing warily, because his legs really did feel weak, the Hobbit turned his eye towards the pillar a good distance away. He also glanced in the direction Legolas had left in, as well as the one Thorin supposedly could be found in. When he saw nothing in any direction, except more gold and jewels, he started taking pitiful, stumbling steps towards the column. They all looked the same, the pillars, but Bilbo recognized a long crack in the particular pillar he had sat against that night. Sure enough, when he managed to reach the monolith column, he found the bloodied banner and blood encrusted dagger in the same place he left them.
Bilbo had to catch his breath for a good few minutes before he eased himself to the ground and picked up the dagger. He didn't have time at that moment, Legolas could return any second, or Thorin could catch sight of him. Instead he slid the knife into it's sheath and slipped it into his pocket. It just barely fit, and it was kind of bulky, but he doubted any of the Company would ask about it. Not when they had bigger things to worry about. Legolas was the only one Bilbo was nervous about, but the Elf usually didn't pry if Bilbo got upset, or pretended to get upset.
The banner had to go as well. If any of them found it...they would immediately be suspicious. The blood soaked into the silky material had dried, to a rusty brown color, but it was still undeniably blood. And Smaug burned his victims, there would be no blood if it was his doing. But Bilbo could hardly throw the banner out, or burn it. Instead he'd have to bury it, until suspicion was lessened. The rustling of gold as Bilbo buried the banner must have been what drew Thorin in.
"What are you doing?" Bilbo jumped and yelped in surprise, looking up from the last corner of the banner left uncovered and to the Dwarf King leaning against the pillar. Thorin smirked a little at Bilbo's shocked yell and looked expectantly at him for an answer.
"I was...looking for the Arkenstone. As is my job." Bilbo lied a little too easily, with only a bare moment of hesitation. And he knew he'd lied well, because Thorin's eyes immediately lit up.
"Earning your keep then, burglar. Good." Thorin murmured, and Bilbo expected him to walk away. But Thorin just remained there, staring at him, his eyes a little brighter than Bilbo remembered them. Like he was coming down with a fever. Thorin must have still had enough of his wits around him to realize that Bilbo was uncomfortable, because he frowned. "Continue then, Master Baggins. I've been searching for a long time, and I think I am in need of a break. You should keep the search going, while I rest."
"Of course Thorin." Bilbo murmured softly, shyly beginning to sift through the gold and jewels in front of him, maybe covering the banner as he went. The stone in his pocket felt like a lump of burning coal, a guilty accusation stamped across his forehead. But he tried to look innocent enough as he went through the magnitude of treasure before him. Thorin's eyes burned almost as much as the Arkenstone, watching his every move very carefully. It continued that way for a good few minutes before Thorin spoke again.
"I heard you were in shock, after the beasts death." There was an unpleasant sneer to the Dwarf's voice as he spoke, something that gave Bilbo a little shiver that he tried his best to hide. But Thorin was watching him far too closely to not catch it. "And I can not seem to understand just what there was to be shocked about. The Dragon died, as we always intended him to. You have seen death before on this journey, you have killed before. Why would Smaug's death shock you so?" Thorin's voice gradually dropped as he spoke, until it sounded harsh and biting and accusing. Bilbo swallowed nervously and kept his eyes on his hands, which kept sifting idly.
"Is it really so odd that a such a small, pathetic Hobbit like me would be reduced to shock after such an event? Everything that happened...who am I to say I was not in shock the entire time?" Bilbo tried to defend himself, but Thorin's eyes only narrowed. Bilbo did not know that Thorin had heard many of the conversations that he'd had with Smaug. How could he? But he was still nervous. Even more so when suddenly the Dwarf was crouching in the gold next to Bilbo and grabbing the short length of chain still attacked to that damned collar around his neck.
"His pet...that's what he called you. His little pet Hobbit that he could adore and play with and feed lies at his every whim. And you ate them all up, didn't you Hobbit? Everything he said to you, did you believe it? Am I Gold Mad Bilbo? Am I worse than the Dragon who collared you and called you Pet?" Thorin snarled, practically right into Bilbo's pointed ear, and the Hobbit whimpered, fighting the urge to pull away.
"N-No, of course I didn't believe him. He was a liar and a manipulator and he was just trying to get me to doubt you and myself so I wouldn't fight him." Bilbo whispered, too afraid to try and oppose Thorin. He would tell the Dwarf anything he wanted to know, if it meant appeasing the Madness taking root in Thorin's mind.
"And you didn't fight him. You weakly let him feed you and tell you lies, surrendering so easily to his will. Like the weak little Hobbit I always knew you were." Thorin growled, pulling on the chain so Bilbo had no choice but to bow his head. Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut and waited for something to happen. He waited for Thorin to strike him, or release him, or say more terrible things to him. But Thorin just kept him like that, uncomfortable and afraid and hurt, inside and outside. Finally, after what felt like hours, but was really only minutes, Thorin suddenly released his hold on the chain. "But you said and did what you had to do to survive. You survived a Dragon." Thorin rumbled.
Bilbo said nothing in reply. Even though it sounded like a compliment, Thorin's voice remained dark and angry when he said it. Bilbo dared not to even glance at the Dwarf King, too afraid of what he might see. How could Thorin be acting like this? How could this cold, soulless treasure be turning him into this monster? Bilbo was so very scared, and when Thorin raised his hand, Bilbo flinched, expecting a blow. Instead the big paw of a hand settled on his cheek and Thorin's thumb rubbed soothing over the soft skin beneath his eye.
"I don't blame you Bilbo...I blame the Dragon. You did what you had to." Thorin cooed, his voice so drastically different from minutes ago. Bilbo had never seen such a mood swing. "But he's dead now, and you're back where you belong. With the company. With me." Here his voice took on a more possessive tone. "Come my Hobbit, let me show you. It may assuage your lingering shock." Thorin commanded, not even giving Bilbo time to accept or reject his words. Thorin wrapped his hand around Bilbo's arm and pulled the poor quivering being after him as he quickly crossed the room. Bilbo could only stumble and slide along after him, his heart in his throat.
When Bilbo realized where they were going, what Thorin wanted him to see, he contemplated resisting. He wondered, if he pretended to pass out, if Thorin would stop or just continue to drag him along. He did not want to look at Smaug's dead body, he never wanted to see those lifeless eyes looking at him so blankly again. However there was no doubt in his mind that Gold Madness had taken Thorin. And even if it had not completely consumed him, Thorin was not the same Dwarf as the one Bilbo had come to know. This Dwarf, this cold, Mad, Dwarf, was scary. And Bilbo dared not resist him.
Thorin yanked hard on Bilbo's arm, inadvertently sending the Hobbit to the ground, on his knees, just before Smaug's snout. Bilbo kept his eyes firmly on the ground, not looking up, and he prayed that Thorin would snap out of it enough to realize he was being cruel. Of course, the Hobbit had no such luck, and after only a few seconds of his willful refusal to look at Smaug, Thorin growled low in his throat. Bilbo felt Thorin's thick, strong fingers twine in his hair and grip the golden locks for all of a second before the King pulled hard and brought Bilbo's face up so his eyes landed on Smaug's dark, dim eyes.
"Do you see my little Hobbit? He took you away from me. And now he's dead. He took my kingdom, my mountain, and my Halfling. And now I have them all back." Thorin purred darkly, once again far too close to Bilbo's ear.
"I-I see. How s-stupid of him to think he could ever keep what is rightfully yours." Bilbo choked out, hoping Thorin just wanted some kind of validation and then he would let him go. Sure enough, the Dwarf King grinned, and his harsh grip in Bilbo's hair loosened so it was just a solid presence laid on the back of his head. A silent threat that Thorin could hurt him, and would hurt him if Bilbo disagreed with him on anything. And then the hand slipped away, and Bilbo chanced a glance up at Thorin. For a moment, Thorin's eyes cleared and he looked disturbed to see Bilbo kneeling before him, before the corpse of a Dragon, but the moment passed and the glassy eyes look of madness returned.
"I must return to my search Bilbo. You should rest, Oin said you looked sickly, and I have to agree with him." Thorin sounded remarkably normal as he spoke, and it tugged unpleasantly inside of Bilbo's stomach. Thorin would never be the normal, good Dwarf that Bilbo had become fond of again. He's always be this scary, hurtful, unpredictable Dwarf. Suddenly Bilbo had no complaint about leaving with Legolas, as soon as possible.
"Yes Thorin." He said, a bit numbly actually, considering the emotions roiling around inside of him. Thorin only hummed in recognition, already wandering off to keep searching for the Arkenstone. There was no longer any doubt in Bilbo's mind regarding that subject at least. He would never see the Arkenstone in Thorin's hands. Never. But he still didn't know what to do with it, or what to do in general. He wanted to save Thorin, wanted it more than anything, but he didn't know how he could. Or if he could. Smaug had seemed pretty sure that there was nothing to be done.
There was one thing Bilbo could do, and it wouldn't absolutely help save Thorin, but it would save himself. He would leave, and maybe that would snap Thorin out of it. Still, Bilbo felt regretful, having to leave the company as well. What would become of them, under the rule of Gold Mad King?
Bilbo's mind finally caught up with itself when he realized he was still staring numbly into Smaug's eternally empty eyes. With willpower alone, it felt like, he stumbled back to where Legolas had left him, and he sat there, feeling just as empty as Smaug's eyes for a few moments before his emotions came back, crashing like a great storm inside. With a tiny smile, he compared his emotions to the Thunder Battle of the Stone Giants, but just as before, the smile hardly lasted for a few seconds before disappearing.
"Bilbo?" Legolas' quiet voice hardly even reached him through his haze of hurt, sadness, regret, and anger. The anger surprised even him, but he knew what he was angry about. He was angry that Thorin had so easily given in to the bane of his family. He was angry that Smaug had to die. He was angry that he had left on this journey in the first place. He was so angry that he did not even try to reply to Legolas. He knew already he would only upset the Elf if he tried to talk. Luckily, Legolas did not pry, only sat next to Bilbo, a jar of healing poultice in his hands for when Bilbo came back to himself. Whenever that may be.
OOOOO
Bilbo avoided Thorin, to the best of his ability, after that. It wasn't hard, what with the Dwarf constantly searching for the Arkenstone and Bilbo constantly surrounded by the Company. The objects in his pockets felt like they were burning holes right through his skin, but he did not attempt to use either. He often wondered about giving the stone to Balin, for safe keeping. Surely the elder, wiser Dwarf would know what to do with it! But he never found a good moment. As well, the he never found even a tiny moment of reprieve to use the dagger. And every minute that passed seemed to make it heavier and heavier in his pocket, begging him to use it, taunting him almost.
But the rare moments when Thorin would set his sights on Bilbo rather than the Arkenstone were always terrifying. He would always act very possessive, but depending on the day, he would be loving, or suffocating. Sometimes he yelled at Bilbo, at them all in general but mostly Bilbo. Other times he doted on the Hobbit, asking what Bilbo would like from the treasury, and if he liked a particular stone that Thorin found while searching.
It had been a good day, and that was the only reason Bilbo approached Thorin. The King had been in a better cheer than usual, and Bilbo thought he could maybe talk Thorin into eating something. It had been about a week since they'd gotten Thorin to stop searching long enough to realize he was hungry and force down a bowl of soup. The Dwarf had amazing stamina for someone who was running on empty. And he needed to eat.
So when dinner had been cooked, soup as usual, Bilbo had volunteered to climb the hills of gold and try to get Thorin to take a few moments to rest. He found the King just over the closest hill, digging obsessively for the Arkenstone, as usual. Bilbo took in a calming breath and cleared his throat to alert Thorin of his presence. The Dwarf ignored him completely.
"Thorin?" Bilbo questioned softly, and this time he was given a grunt as acknowledgment. "Thorin, you haven't eaten in a week. Dinner's just been made, why don't you come have some?" Bilbo proposed, and again was ignored. Taking another calming breath, Bilbo walked up next to Thorin. "Thorin, that's enough now, you need to rest." The Hobbit put his hand on Thorin's shoulder but the Dwarf King jerked away to continue searching.
Bilbo wasn't sure what exactly it was that allowed him to be brave enough to keep trying. Idiocy, he supposed at a later date. But Thorin needed to eat, and despite the Madness in his mind, Bilbo still cared a great deal for the Dwarf who he once called leader and friend. He didn't want to have to force feed Thorin after the King passed out from exhaustion and hunger. So he kept on trying, even raising his voice to make a point.
"Thorin Oakenshield, you need to rest! Enough searching now!" Bilbo ordered, but Thorin only snorted at him, a smirk curling up his lips. And oh that just made Bilbo more intent. The Hobbit huffed and grabbed Thorin's arm, intent on pulling the Dwarf out of the piles of gold and to the rest of the Company, even if he knew it would be a fruitless attempt. He didn't expect it to go quite so wrong though.
Bilbo didn't even see the hand that connected with jarring force against the side of his face. But he felt it. And he felt the golden trinkets that pressed into his back as he was thrown down to them with the force of the blow. A little shriek of shock and pain left his lips as he fell, and his hand immediately went to his stinging cheek. There was a dribble of blood already sluggishly running down his cheek, coming from a deep scratch that must have been cause by a ring. And the skin of his cheek was swelling up, into surely and impressive bruise. Before he could even put all the evidence together and realize that Thorin had hit him, the Dwarf King was kneeling in front of him with wide, horrified eyes and a mouth agape with words that couldn't leave the tip of his tongue.
"Bilbo? Bilbo are you okay?" Legolas' voice floated over the mountain of gold, but he was met with silence. Bilbo was staring at Thorin, confusion and hurt all over his face, and Thorin was gaping at Bilbo, sorrow and worry and disbelief all over his face. Legolas, being the mothering Elf that he was, was quick to hurry over the gold and to the two smaller beings. It didn't take him long to deduce what happened. Bilbo's cheek was bright red, and bleeding, and there were tears gathering in his eyes. Thorin looked like he was an inch from crying as well, looking so small despite the fact that he was bigger than Bilbo. The Elf, furious, rushed over and shoved Thorin away before grabbing Bilbo's hand.
"L-Legolas-"
"No! We're leaving!" Legolas cut the Hobbit off before he could even try to protest. "I don't care if you are not fit for travel, I will carry you if I must!" He added when Bilbo opened his mouth to argue. Legolas didn't wait for anything else to be said, he pulled Bilbo along after him, reluctant as the Hobbit was, towards the exit. Thorin didn't even try to follow, knowing that this was what he deserved. He had struck Bilbo. He had let Gold Sickness take him, and he had hit his One! It had taken hitting the one he loved to snap him out of his Sickness, and now that it had happened, he felt guilt and resentment. He looked around himself, suddenly disgusted by the mountains of riches surrounding him. He watched Legolas and Bilbo disappear out of the treasury and into the hallway that led to the main door.
It was for the best that Bilbo leave. If he left, Thorin couldn't hurt him anymore. Never again. The cost would be letting his heart break every single day separated from the Hobbit. Normally he would be willing to bear that, if it meant Bilbo would be safe. But he was still a little Gold Mad at the moment. And the thought of being without his Hobbit was just a no go. With a growl, the King rose and followed the Elf who had taken his Hobbit. The Company, who had been attracted to the commotion and now stood at the top of the pile of gold, watched him go before exchanging glances.
"Should we do something?" Kili wondered aloud. There was a tense silence that followed his question before Balin sighed.
"I don't think there's anything we can do. Not at the moment." No one moved to follow, but they all remained there, waiting for something to happen or for someone to return.
Thorin charged after Legolas and Bilbo, and surprisingly enough, he met with them as they were headed back into the mountain. Thorin opened his mouth to say something scathing to Legolas, but was never able to get his words out. Legolas punched him, hard, right in the nose. A trickle of blood started falling and Thorin was knocked on his backside, but he knew if it weren't for his strong Dwarf bones, his nose would be broken.
"If you ever touch him again I'll cut your fucking hand off!" Legolas yelled before promptly turning and resuming his march out of the mountain, Bilbo trailing after him. The Hobbit was obviously in a mild form of shock. One hand was still pressed to his cheek, and his eyes were bright with tears and confusion. And he didn't fight as Legolas pulled him along, only looking back once. He cringed as he saw Thorin and then they were gone, out of the King's sight.
The rest of his Madness had fled with that punch, and Thorin no longer thought of following. He felt his heart shatter into a million pieces with the knowledge that he would probably never see Bilbo again. But he would not dare try and bring Bilbo back. Not when he could turn into a monster so easily. Thorin sat there, dazed and sorrowful, for so long that Balin came looking for him. The Company was all worried and they figured if there were some big contention going on, Balin would be the best at diffusing it. When the older Dwarf saw Thorin sitting there, looking lost and afraid almost, he knew something much worse than a confrontation had happened.
"Lad." Balin said simply, sitting next to the King. "What happened?" He asked, as gently as he could, which was pretty gentle. Thorin swallowed thickly, hesitantly, before looking at Balin.
"I did the one think I promised I would not do. I let the Madness take me. And I hurt him. I hurt him when I promised I never would." Thorin's voice was weak, and vulnerable, and Balin had never heart it like that before. Thorin was always strong and impenetrable, he had to be for his people. But now, sitting inside the gates of their so recently reclaimed city, Thorin looked lost. Like a wee Dwarfling in need of chastisement. Thorin wouldn't actually mind being chastised at that moment. He deserved much worse. But Balin only sighed and put his hand on Thorin's shoulder.
"We all make mistakes lad. It's hardly your fault the bane of Durin's line took hold, it took both your predecessors. Strong, good Dwarves, the both of them. Just like you Thorin. But neither of them snapped out of it, like you have."
"At what cost Balin? Bilbo is gone, my One is gone. And I cannot even be angry, because it is better that he is gone. Beyond my reach." Thorin closed his eyes against tears. He had not cried in a century, at least. He had not cried when he lost his kingdom, or his kin. He had not cried when he held his nephews for the first time. But now, losing the one he would forever love and long for, he felt the sting of tears in his eyes and he briefly contemplated letting them fall.
"You may still have him back." Balin chanced to whisper, and no sooner had the words left his lips then Thorin was staring at him with wide, pleading eyes. "Show him that you have come back to yourself. Stop searching for the stone, and help us plan for the future of the Kingdom. Renew the alliances of old, and bring Erebor back from the dead. Show him that you are Thorin Oakenshield of the House of Durin, King Under the Mountain, and not a Gold Mad Dwarf. And after some time has passed, he may come back to you. And if he does not, at least you will have the kingdom, prosperous and whole."
Thorin nodded, a little sadly, and willed the tears away. He would not cry now, not when he may not have failed yet. He would prove himself to Bilbo, and to the Elf that took the Hobbit away. He would bring Erebor back to life and offer it all to Bilbo if it meant having him back. And he would not be setting foot in that treasury again. He would not give the gold, or the Arkenstone, any chance to sway him once more. He would do this, and so much more, for Bilbo. He only hoped it wasn't too late.
OOOOO
Legolas watched Bilbo carefully from across the fire. The Elf Prince of Mirkwood had marched clear to the ruins of Dale before allowing them to stop. He had sat Bilbo down on a stable boulder and the Hobbit had stayed there for hours now, in the exact same position, the same look frozen on his face while Legolas made a fire and improvised a campsite. Luckily the house they were in still had a roof, in case of rain or snow, but it was still very chilly. There were dusty, threadbare blankets on some of the beds, the ones not covered in rubble and debris, and Legolas used them to make beds. He gave Bilbo more padding, of course, because the Hobbit was still bruised all over his back and legs.
Not that Bilbo looked even remotely interested in going to sleep. Legolas wondered if Bilbo would remain that way, still as a statue save for the deep breaths the Hobbit took, clear until morning when they moved on again. At this point, it appeared so. And if Bilbo wasn't going to sleep, then neither was he. He did not want to take any chances. Just as he was settling down for an unknown amount of time of staying away and staring at the walls, Bilbo moved.
The Hobbit still looked zoned out though as he weakly stumbled to the little nest of blankets Legolas prepared for him. He curled up, closed his glassy blue eyes, and shuddered once before going just as still as he'd been on the boulder. Legolas sighed and resolutely stayed awake for a few hours, just in case Bilbo was faking for his benefit. But inevitably, he got tired. He had been staying awake for long hours, ever since entering Erebor. He had to keep an eye on Bilbo, especially if Thorin was around, and this was the first night in weeks that Thorin was no where to be seen and Bilbo was apparently sleeping.
Almost against his will, Legolas felt his eyes slipping closed. And once they were closed, it was only moments before sleep took him. He slumped over where he was, sitting up against the wall, and that was that. Bilbo opened his eyes almost the moment Legolas fell asleep. He watched the Elf for a few moments before quietly standing and draping a blanket over his sleeping guardian. When Legolas failed to even stir in his deep slumber, Bilbo nodded resolutely and slipped out of the amazingly well preserved house.
The streets of Dale were cold and empty and ruined, filled with too many ghosts of the past. Bilbo could almost feel them, crowding around him to see what he was going to do. His stomach clenched as he walked. His cheek stung, but it was nothing compared to how his heart ached in his chest. Thorin...
Eventually Bilbo could walk no more. Instead he collapsed against a crumbly wall and curled up against it, his shoulders shaking as he held in his tears. He hated his tears. He hated crying. He was not going to cry, not tonight, not ever. He had something better than that. Eagerly he pulled the dagger from his pocket, his eyes greedily absorbing the sight after so long of having it nearby without being ably to use it, or even look at it.
A few flakes of blackened blood chipped off the blade as Bilbo pulled the knife from it's sheath. He wiped the blade on his pants, more dried blood coming off until it was just the blood in the indents remaining. It looked no less haunting then he remembered, his blood in the delicate design of the Dwarvish blade. And he wanted there to be more.
He was mindful as he pulled down his trousers that he was still missing a lot of blood from the last time he cut. He couldn't go overboard tonight, lest Legolas should find out. Instead he would savor each new cut to his skin, and only do enough to calm down. With that firmly in mind, he dragged the sharp edge of the blade across his leg, the skin splitting easily behind the knife. Blood rose to the surface, and gathered there for a few moments before beginning to rain down his leg, creating rivers of red before dripping down onto the ground. And Bilbo felt the weight in his heart lesson, just a little bit.
The weight continued to lesson as he made more and more fresh wounds on his legs. By the time eight lines appeared, Bilbo felt blissfully numb. He made one more, particularly deep cut, before sheathing the knife and waiting for his legs to stop bleeding. He didn't have anything to stem the flow of blood, and he wasn't going to use his trousers. But he was content enough, waiting for the blood to stop of it's own volition. It was soothing to watch, actually, the lazy flow of blood.
He actually nodded off for a few moments, only waking because of a few tumbling rocks in the the breeze. He was cold, out in the open as he was, and he was tired. So very tired. He pulled up his trousers, put his knife back in his pocket, and pathetically staggered back to the house Legolas was waiting in. He practically fell back into his makeshift bed and closed his eyes, intent of sleeping. But sleep it seemed, was intent on eluding him, and it took hours before he lost himself to unconsciousness.
OOOOO
AN: Did I fail? I hope I didn't fail, but you can tell me if I did. Once again, I make no promises for next week, but I'll try my darndest to get the next chapter out on time. Thanks for reading, feel free to leave a comment or question!