DISCLAIMER: SEE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. DANKE.
Hope you all enjoy this! Please comment, I lurv comments. They really make my day. ;)
Oh yes, Thorin gets hurt a bit in this chapter. I don't know, I was feeling violent. What can I say? xP
Oh, Yanoe: If you were thinking on the lines of Slash, this is not a slash story, and I don't intend on making it into one...It's more of a Friendship/Adventure/Drama thingie...But as for Romance of the usual kind...Hmm. Who knows? The wilds are strange lands, full of strange folk. And I have no idea where this story is going. xD Perhaps in a sequel should I write one. Thanks for your kind words! So glad you enjoy it! :D
P.S. Sorry for ending on such a lame note. Oh well, it'll make ye all excited for the next wee chapter. I already got pummeled by me sister. So ye mae now throw yer pies at me. :P
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Bilbo gasped, sucking air into his aching lungs. Leaning against a tree he attempted to soothe the screaming organs. He had run farther than he had ever thought possible for a person of his age or size, but then again fear did that to a body. Allowing for deeds beyond the ability of a normal person, and seeing the ugly orc had shocked him badly. He had not waited, knowing he could never fight off the brute, and had pelted into the woods as fast as his legs could carry him. Which was now deep in the forest far away from wherever Thorin might be. As if that wasn't bad enough, he could hear the Orc hacking away at the underbrush and screaming curses.
By instinct, he dropped, throwing himself under an old log that the years had hollowed out to form a sort of shelter. The moss grew over it like hair, with the damp ground smelling unpleasantly. His heart seemingly pounded with the deep thumping of a drum, so that he wondered how it was that he was not heard. Trying in vain to force his lungs to let his breath out evenly, he inwardly winced as he heard the Orc come very close indeed.
Despite his fear and present situation Bilbo rolled his eyes; how did the Orc expect to catch anyone carrying on so? He would not be surprised if all the residents of this forest heard the creature beforehand and made an easy escape to whatever place they called home.
If there was anything Bilbo wanted at the moment, that was it, Home. He missed the green fields and babbling brooks more than ever, and was now quite convinced that he probably would never see them again.
"I suppose I shan't be finishing my garden this year..." he thought bitterly. Which really was a pity to Bilbo, as he had planned something very spectacular this year to rival those nasty Sacksville Bagginses. They never had forgiven him for inheriting Bag End and hoped that Bilbo would die as soon as possible in the hopes that they would receive ownership of the fine Hobbit Hole. He scowled at the thought, promising himself that he would find a way to ensure that Bag End would never be theirs, if he ever returned from this disaster.
He then froze, as the orc's breath came thick and heavy, so that he thought he could almost feel the foul creature. Time seemed to freeze, and whether it was due to Bilbo's fear or just the impressive aura of the exceedingly large creature behind him Bilbo could not tell. The Orc did not come from the mountains, of this he was sure. It was large and muscular, rather than the smaller twisted forms of Goblin that inhabited the deep places of the world. Glancing through a crack in the wood he could just make out the faint outline of the creature hunting for him.
As soon as it had come, it was gone. The breathing ceased. Bilbo visibly relaxed, loosening his tight muscles, and guessing that the Orc's curiosity had been satisfied. He let out a little breath of relief which was followed by a loud yelp as an iron fist clawed into his shoulder, pulling him out of his hiding place. A grinning leer was what welcomed him, as the Orc looked visibly pleased at his discovery.
"Well, well. What have we got here?" the orc licked his lip in a most discomforting way, "A little rat hiding in his hole, eh?"
Bilbo eyes grew as large as saucers, and without a moment's more delay, his quick hands whipped out the forgotten Elvish blade at his side and slashed into the Orc's arm. Howling with pain, the Orc grabbed his bleeding limb, letting his prize fall onto the ground.
Snarling with unbelievable animalistic fury, the Orc pulled out his own weapon and began circling Bilbo.
"So it wants to play does it?" the creature growled, coming closer with a murderous look in its eyes.
Bilbo's trembling hands pointed Sting at the now seemingly enormous enemy, taking a cautious step backwards. The Orc however smirked maliciously, following Bilbo's every move.
He's playing with me, the Hobbit thought miserably as he attempted to get his shaking hands under control.
"I think you'll find, little maggot, that this game's too big for you." The Orc grinned, showing his yellow and pointed teeth. Bilbo gasped as he saw that the orc was preparing to do a devastating pounce, but it was then that strange chance intervened.
A blur, only half the size of the creature before him, knocked full speed into the Orc. Both were sent sprawling into the leaves. Bilbo shouted, it was Thorin Oakenshield. How he had found him he knew not how, but the sight of the surly Dwarf was one for sore eyes.
The Orc was the first to recover from the blow, looking up with a hateful gaze at the creature that had dared to interrupt his amusement. Pulling out an ugly and twisted dagger he rose and made for Thorin with a terrible scream. Thorin realized what was happening just in time and administered a savage kick. A satisfactory cry of pain came from Thorin's opponent, who struck again with the dagger as Thorin rolled neatly out of range.
Bilbo ran forward with sword in hand, his own peculiar battle cry rising from his throat, when his foot snagged in a root. With a sickening twist he felt the muscles in his foot shudder, a rising pain bubble up from his agonized foot. He fell to the ground with a gasp and hissed as his nerves screamed angrily.
Thorin swung Orcrist with a great and mighty heave, but the Orc easily dodged it, and struck at Thorin's unprotected middle. Perhaps it was the fact that Thorin lost his balance from his previous attack, or mere luck, but the blade missed it's target. Instead grazing Thorin's side with a venomous fury. Thorin roared as he felt the blade enter his flesh, and instinctively struck outwards, landing a square blow in the Orc's face with his fist.
The enemy stepped backwards, stunned by this blow and holding his eye. Thorin, sensing the opportunity struck again with Orcrist, slicing the servant of Sauron's leg. Orcrist seemed to shine with a devilish delight, having struck a blow at last.
The flesh of the wound seemed to hiss with the contact of an Elvish blade, and the battle fire seemed to die for a brief moment in the eyes of the Orc, fear replacing the evil light for a brief moment. Stepping back he snarled defensively at his much smaller but fierce enemy.
The Orc licked his lip again, this time covered with his own dark blood, showing his teeth at Thorin his eyes grinned at the taste with a malignant gleam.
Thorin gripped Orcrist, swinging it skillfully and standing in battle stance. The tall Orc seemed almost amused by this display and said something in his horrible grating speech. Bilbo shuddered to hear it, for its sound was as foul as its intent.
Thorin then replied something stony and threatening in his own strange language, a dangerous light in his eyes as he looked at the Orc with hate. The Orc cocked his head in an amused manner, not understanding the words but the jist of the message.
The Orc laughed as he said, "Beardling is angry eh? I'll fix that."
The orc charged roaring with his weapon in hand, aiming a heavy blow for Thorin's head. Thorin raised Orcrist to block it, and the Orc laid a hard blow with his free hand to Thorin's face.
Thorin stumbled backwards, dazed. The orc crowed with satisfaction and went in for the killing blow. But suddenly a strange look came over Thorin's face, as a fire seemed to flow back through his veins. Raising his sword he gave out a thunderous battle cry, and charged at his enemy.
"Baruk Khazad!"
And with that he met the Orc in mid charge, caught the blow on Orcrist and skillfully turning the side of his sword met the Orc's chest with deadly results. The eyes of the fatally wounded creature widened, as if he did not believe this had truly happened. But placing a hand to it's chest only confirmed what he did not believe, and with a shudder he fell back onto the carpet of leaves, dead.
Bilbo, to say the least, had never witnessed a battle of this brutality in his entire life. Needless to say he was quite shocked. Thorin stood looking at the body for a moment with hard, his lungs greedily taking in the air that they cried out for. Looking disgusted he turned from it and made his way towards Bilbo.
"Bilbo...are you...injured?" Thorin managed out, weary from battle and yet knowing that they could not linger long.
Thorin looked quite frightful, with a cut forehead and a split lip he looked every bit of the 'mad dwarves' that the people back in Hobbiton would tell fabulous and warning tales about. It was considered very bad indeed for Shire folk to mix with Dwarves more than was necessary. Although they welcomed the trade and goods the Dwarves had to offer, they were very careful to stick to pure business.
"No. I'm not" Bilbo answered, determined not to be a burden, and to save what was left of his pride. Thorin nodded wordlessly, frame still heaving from the encounter. A trickle of blood leaked down the Dwarf's side where the orc dagger had bitten in leaving an ugly gash; Thorin's sharp eyes caught Bilbo staring at it.
A bit hastily he answered the Hobbit's unspoken question, "It is but a scratch. Bound it will give no more trouble." Thorin seemed as if he wished it would go unnoticed from the Hobbit's keen eyesight, and kept glancing at the Hobbit as if to make sure he was not looking.
"We cannot stay here Bilbo." he continued, changing the subject. "Come. The other orcs will not be far behind."
He motioned to Bilbo as he stepped forward quickly scanning the area for, but looked back when the Hobbit did not come immediately. Bilbo sighed inwardly and struggled to stand up but let out a cry as he fell back to the ground, his foot screaming in protest and sending waves of pain up his leg.
When the Hobbit had not come immediately, Thorin thought something was off, and the fact that Bilbo had now fallen to the ground only confirmed this. Thorin, fearing that perhaps the Hobbit had indeed been injured by the Orc went quickly to the Hobbit, kneeling in the leaves beside him.
With eyes full of concern he worriedly asked, "Bilbo? Where are you injured?"
Doing his very best to keep the pain from coming through into his voice the Hobbit pointed to the lower extremity of his leg saying, "My foot." The said woolly foot had now grown in size and appeared a discolored purple.
Pulling off his gloves Thorin carefully felt the injured member, the experience he had in healing while not truly wondrous, would at least suffice in lesser ills. In a relieved voice he said, "I can feel no broken bones."
The Hobbit muttered to himself something about making a mess of it all and glared at the foot as if wishing it to forget the injury it had suffered.
"There will be no walking on it." Thorin said out loud, mostly to himself.
Bilbo knew that Thorin was right, and the Orcs could not be far behind. The situation was far from good, and even farther from being the best. In fact it looked downright hopeless. Moreover it appeared that Thorin was either thinking deeply or was at a loss for what to say, and Bilbo could only think that he was thinking the exact same thoughts. It had been incredibly clumsy of Bilbo to injure himself in such a manner at such a time, Bilbo let out a deep sigh and then made a decision. He wasn't going to be a burden, it was his own fault he had been injured. Thorin had done his best to save him, but things had still turned out badly.
Mustering his courage he said in a small voice, "You'll have to leave me behind then I suppose."
The pure look of bewilderment on Thorin's face was almost comical, "What?!" The Dwarf clearly had not understood him. Annoyed, Bilbo repeated his statement. Thorin stared.
"What in the name of Durin do you mean Hobbit?!" The Dwarf sharply demanded. Was the creature delirious?
Bilbo, extremely vexed that anyone could appear so dense at such a time rephrased his statement. "You'll have to leave me behind! Do you understand? I can't walk, I'll slow you down, and likely get you killed!" He nearly shouted to drive his point into this thick headed Dwarf.
Thorin blinked and looked at the Hobbit in disbelief. "No! A thousand times no! What are you thinking Hobbit?! Leave you behind?! Madness!"
"No no no no! Stop that. You know what I mean, and I'm right. You have to leave me behind" The Hobbit shook his finger in a fidgety manner, indicating his deep disapproval.
Thorin was silent, but his eyes had a strange look to them. He looked as if he was reading the Hobbit's face and not believing whatever it was he found there. Bilbo looked extremely uncomfortable.
"Well?!" Bilbo demanded. The Dwarf was making this all very difficult.
The Dwarf seemed to be searching desperately for something to say, and with a very serious look then recited somewhat slowly, "Mr. Baggins...While I greatly respect your courage in this matter..."
Bilbo was shocked. Thorin had actually found something to respect in him?!
"I cannot honor your... request...due to...due to..." Once again he seemed lost waving his hand aimlessly.
Bilbo raised his eyebrow, Thorin unable to find words? Curious indeed.
"Custom!" Thorin shot out, "Yes...Dwarven custom."
"Custom?" Bilbo asked, looking as unconvinced as possible. He would not let on, but he found this slightly amusing, seeing Thorin fumble so awkwardly in his speech.
"Yes." Thorin answered, "We Dwarves do not leave each other to death and danger. It is a matter of honor, no one if left behind".
Bilbo half smirked as he said, "Doesn't that just apply to Dwarves?"
Thorin coughed.