DISCLAIMER: NOTTA MINE, EZ TOLKIEN'S STUFF! I HAD FUN WITH IT. NO MONEY I HAZ GOT. *Turns out empty pockets* xD
As requested, here is some more Bilbo and Thorin! Hope you all enjoy! Thanks so much for all your lovely comments! You are really too kind. :)
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Bilbo shivered. The weather had taken a sudden change, becoming bitter cold instead of the pleasant cool the travelers had enjoyed earlier. The sun was just beginning to sink, letting its rays weakly attempt to grab hold of the Earth, warming nothing and floating about like phantoms. It appeared as if a storm was in the brewing, as dark angry clouds had begun to form, seeming to wait just for the moment when the sun would relinquish its daily rule. If Bilbo knew anything about weather, he was quite certain it would become a good deal colder as the night grew older.
Thorin had carried him at tremendous speed for many hours, longer than Bilbo had thought possible. The Dwarf being not exactly young anymore, and not in the best of health. The exertion however had not come without it's price. Thorin walked now with his limp much more pronounced, and at times would let out a hiss at certain intervals. His breath came out labored, with the air around his mouth and nostrils forming into vapor from the cold and fluttering about his face. Despite this however, they had made very good time, traveling far and for the moment still not detected by the hunting Orcs. Bilbo was worried that Thorin might choose to travel all night, because the Dwarf forced himself onwards with no sign of stopping.
Although Bilbo did not like to admit it, Thorin's stubbornness had saved his life. The fact that the Dwarf had flatly refused to leave the Hobbit, even when taking the Halfling with him endangered his own chances at survival, had really touched the Hobbit. Bilbo knew the Dwarf was not particularly fond of him. Dwarves were indeed a peculiar people, at certain times they could be the most stubborn thick headed fools in all of Middle Earth, and at other times could be as loyal and noble as a great hero out of old tales. But then again perhaps all the peoples of Middle Earth were that way.
A wind was now building up, buffeting both Hobbit and Dwarf with its airy blows. Bilbo's nose felt like a cold stone upon his face, somehow not feeling a part of him. He sniffed in an effort to warm it. Perhaps this is why Dwarves grew beards. The Hobbit closed his eyes as the icy air stung the edges of his eyelids, making them feel like frozen lace.
Thorin then slowed, shifting his burden up higher, he gazed at what seemed a most welcome sight in the brisk weather. Out of the rolling woodlands, half hidden by a long curtain of ancient mosses, grew the opening of a cave. He stopped completely, sighing in evident pleasure at the sight of what promised a good rest, something Thorin desperately wanted and ,although he would not admit it, needed. This was luck indeed! Feeling the sudden lack of movement, the Burglar opened his eyes. Thorin, thinking the Hobbit might be asleep moved his shoulder in an effort to wake him.
"Bilbo. Look!" Thorin said, scarcely able to keep the satisfaction from his voice. The opening of the underground chamber seeming to beckon them to its mouth.
Bilbo shifted, trying to gain a better view, but stopped upon hearing Thorin give out a short gasp.
"Oh, Sorry!" The Hobbit quickly apologized.
"Just be careful up there, will you?" The Dwarf grumbled. "Come on then." With that he started towards the cave, but deposited Bilbo just outside. The Dwarf gave a quiet groan as he allowed the Hobbit to return to the ground, relieving himself of the burden he had carried so far. The Hobbit was perplexed by this action.
"Wait a minute. Aren't I coming in too?" Bilbo asked.
"Yes." The Dwarf answered with a surprising amount of patience, "I am just seeing if all is as it seems. Caves are seldom unoccupied, especially in these parts. I will return for you." Then with a warning tone he added, "Stay here until I return."
With that he turned and disappeared into the cave.
Bilbo sighed, he just hoped that whatever Thorin was doing in there, that he just wouldn't be too long about it. It was cold, and the Hobbit rather liked the idea of getting out of the chill. In boredom he kicked at the leaves, immediately regretting the action having met with something hard and having used his bad foot. Yelping as he reawakened the pain in his foot he held it stiffly in the air, groaning. But looking at the ground he was surprised to find that his kick had uncovered a stone step.
It was ancient and worn, showing the many seasons that had softened its once sharp edges, broken and covered by leaves it had been quite undetectable. Bilbo wrinkled his brow in interest as his sharp eyes found the remains of what appeared to be ancient runes. From what Bilbo guessed, they did not say "Welcome". He doubted if they meant anything friendly at all. It was then that he remembered Thorin was inside the cave. The Dwarf should probably know this information. But then again, he had in a way promised to wait for Thorin...
Quickly, the Hobbit weighed his choices, and decided to walk in after Thorin. Looking at the cave it now appeared much more menacing than it had earlier. Bilbo bravely took a deep breath, and stepped inside, as the darkness enveloped him. Blinking, his eyes soon began to make out shapes and forms in the underground chamber, finding the area about him actually quite comfortably shaped. The floor was smooth, with the walls carved with runes and designs of the same sort he had found outside. Looking back at the entrance he saw the wormed and holed remains of oak, which he could only guess had at one time been a massive door. There was however, no sign of Thorin.
"Thorin!" Bilbo called out.
The Hobbit turned, just about to travel deeper inside to see what he could find of Thorin when he suddenly felt a strong hand fall onto his shoulder. Shouting in fear he felt a hand cover his mouth, as he found himself face to face with Thorin. With a frown the dwarf brought his finger over his lips motioning for silence from the Hobbit and slowly removed his other hand from the Hobbit's mouth.
"Did I not," Thorin whispered (or perhaps angrily hissed was a better word for it.) "Tell you to stay outside until I had seen whether or not the cave was occupied?"
"Yes!" Bilbo answered, annoyed, "But I found something. A set of stairs with ru-"
"Runes?" Thorin finished.
"Yes, but how did you know that?"
Thorin explained, "These halls are of Dwarvish make. Not of my people, the Longbeards or of any of the other Seven families. I would guess Petty Dwarves, long abandoned. They lived in many hidden communities. I imagine this was an outpost of sorts." He turned and began walking through the halls, beckoning for Bilbo to follow.
The Hobbit was only too happy not to be sent back outside, "I thought there was only one type of Dwarf?" Bilbo asked, fascinated with what little Thorin had said.
"There is but one." Thorin answered, looking surprised that the Hobbit did not understand this.
"Then what are Petty Dwarves?" Bilbo prodded.
"Oh." Thorin said, understanding that Bilbo had no knowledge on this matter. "Well. It is difficult to say. Their kind has not been seen or heard of since the end of the First Age. It is thought that they had all perished by the Second Age."
Eagerly Bilbo pressed him for more, "Are-were they terribly different from other Dwarves?"
Thorin stroked his beard as he attempted to remember what he knew of this legend, "Well, they were smaller. Probably no taller than yourself. Like us in some ways, and unlike in others. Like Hobbits they built their homes in soft earth in woods and fields, while most Dwarves prefer the strength of mountains."
The Hobbit paused for a moment, allowing what Thorin had said to sink in.
"And no one has met any at all since the early Second Age?" He finally asked.
"None. At least not in my lifetime." Thorin answered, "They've passed into our myths and legends, and it is only halls such as these that pay witness to their past existence. An entire race they once were, and even more wary of strangers then we." He rubbed his hand softly over a wall, looking thoughtful about the remnants of an entire civilization that had vanished.
"Erm, why didn't they stay with other Dwarves? Their own kind I mean?" The Hobbit questioned, furrowing his brow as he wondered about this.
"As I recall," Thorin replied, remembering from his early lessons as a Dwarf Prince in Erebor, "They were banished early in the First Age."
"Why?" Came the Hobbit's foreseen question.
"I do not know." The Dwarf said slowly, pondering the question himself. "The knowledge of this matter has been lost, so that it is as much a mystery to you as it is to me."
Bilbo fell silent, thinking on what had been said. Why had the Petty Dwarves been banished from their own kind? What crime did they commit to merit such punishment? He felt himself filled with a feeling of awe and respect for the people that had faded thousands of years before he had been born, and felt and pity and a sadness for their departure from this world.
"This way Mr. Baggins!" He heard Thorin call, waking him from his thoughts. Limping as fast as he could to catch up Bilbo grumbled under his breath, Thorin was always in much too much of a hurry. While Bilbo was thus occupied, the Dwarf lifted an old torch reverently from its resting place, covered in the dust that had accumulated over the ages. Dwarves are very good with flame of all sorts, always keeping some way of starting a fire about them. At this time however, matches were not known to the world. Thorin was able to do well enough without them however, pulling out a strange metal that burst with sparks when struck. Within a short moment he had lit the torch, casting its light about in order to view their surroundings.
"It does not appear that no one has been here for a good many years," Thorin said slowly, "But looks can be deceiving as they say. Be careful ; disturb as little as possible. We will stay but one night."
Bilbo nodded silently, already taking the Dwarf's advice to heart. He had no wish for trouble from any hostile underground creature, and did not exactly look forward to a run if it was necessary. Within a short time they had discovered a small storage room, long empty and having a great oaken door. They had settled themselves comfortably in there,preparing to spend the night and have perhaps the first full rest in the last few days. Thorin sat down with a sigh, accompanied by a low moan. Noticing how Bilbo kept looking at the door and nervously into the hall, he rose up with some difficulty, and putting his shoulder to the heavy door closed Dwarf then hung the Torch in a convenient holder in the wall, placing three other torches near it that he had found in the room. When he had finished with this, he sat down stiffly once more, stifling the pained sound that sprang unbidden from his lips. The Hobbit suddenly broke the silence.
"Thank you by the way." Bilbo's voice came warmly and full of gratitude, and he meant it.
"For what?" The Dwarf looked up with a surprised face.
If Thorin had looked surprised, Bilbo was surprised still more. "For saving my life!" The Hobbit could not help but be baffled, either Thorin was being thick on purpose or he was very tired, either way both were not entirely impossible.
"Oh." The Dwarf said, "Think nothing of it Mr. Baggins, you have saved my life more than once on this adventure. I cannot help but feel that one good turn deserves another." Thorin gave a weak smile, leaning back on the stone wall to rest his aching frame and fiery side.
"So I suppose we're even for the moment being." Bilbo looked amused.
"For the moment." Thorin smirked, but then gave out a harsh cough. Recovering, he grabbed in deep ragged breaths of air, leaning back once more and slowly closing his eyes in a pained expression.
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Author's note: The Petty Dwarves are in fact a race of Tolkien's creation, so I am not pulling something out of the blue. They differ from "True Dwarves" on several points, being about the size of Hobbits, and very free with the Dwarvish language and even giving out their secret names. (A big no no in Dwarvish society.) They dislike and fear strangers, keeping their homes utterly secret. They were banished from the society of the Seven Families of the True Dwarves in the beginning of the first age for unknown reasons, and died out before the Second Age. The Sindar Elves, who not knowing what the Petty Dwarves were, hunted them for sport thinking them pests. Thus Ironing into the tiny fellows a great hate of all Elves. It was not until the True Dwarves made contact with the Sindar Elves that it was realized the Petty Dwarves were in fact Dwarves, but the damage had already been done, and the Petty Dwarves would hate the Elves forever.
*Secret Names: Dwarves never reveal their true names to others then their kin, not even writing them on their Tombstones. Their true names are only spoken in the Khuzdul, never written anywhere for fear that it might be revealed.