Chapter 18: I Will Have War

Linshara sat on the broken battlements, crosslegged, meditating. She was tasked with keeping watch that night while the dwarves took council. It had been over a day since she arrived and many things have happened. Refugees from Esgaroth had seeped into the ruins of Dale the previous night, Bard had come to try to reason with Thorin, to ask for the part of treasure that he'd promised them during the event she was out cold for.

It was clear to her that Bard had no knowledge of the effects of the Dragon Sickness, nor the Dark Side of the Force infused gold, he didn't know that the brave company was almost all at odds by now as it grew darker around them. Later on, an army of elves arrived. She didn't know where they were from but she sensed them different from the ones she'd met in Rivendell. But she felt the presence of the one who'd guided her through Mirkwood, so she assumed they had to be from there. Their minds had touched briefly and she knew him now as Thranduil, lord of the Mirkwood realm. He was so very different from Elrond and Galadriel, a lot more fierce and unchecked in his wisdom.

So the dwarves were refusing to hold up their end of the bargain, the elves and the humans were banding together to make them. Bard didn't want a war, she was sure of it, whereas King Thranduil...she wasn't all that sure about. To her it seemed he would order his army to march in an instant if it was only elves around, but he had a reputation to maintain. It wasn't until Gandalf arrived not too long ago that Linshara somewhat relaxed. Though they had not met, she could feel his mind brush hers. She briefly told him what had happened inside the mountain and he was as concerned as she was, promising he would be on the lookout for the Sith as well, though it was really her duty, to handle him.

It was in this state that Bilbo found her, carrying a long rope.

"They will not see reason, Lin." He grunted in frustration.

The poor Hobbit was at the end of his wit and strength, fighting off the overwhelming mentalities of the dwarves.

Linshara nodded, "I will deliver you down, you do not need the rope. Remember, do not let on about the gold taint or the Sith, they do not know, and it would only cause greater hostility on their end. We all want this not to come to a head."

Bilbo nodded. He looked at her for a moment before leaning in and hugging her on impulse. Being more or less the same height now, Linshara burried her face in his shoulder as she returned the hug.

"Stay safe my friend."

She could feel him nod into her shoulder. "Thank you, Linshara. For everything."

As they pulled back, the Jedi smiled and stood up, to allow him to climb to where she had been so she could deliver him down. "If it takes too long, stay with Gandalf, if they see you they'll not let you back."

Bilbo nodded, "I'm ready."

She held her arm out in front of him and closed her eyes momentarily. Tiny light swirls formed around her hand as she gripped him through the force and gently lifted. She could feel his amazement and smiled as she opened her eyes and gently held him over the battlements and lowered him to the ground across the bridge.

~He's coming.~ She projected to Gandalf as she watched Bilbo disappear into the night, towards Dale.

As Bilbo disappeared out of the range of her senses, Linshara looked inwards, to the happenings inside the mountain. Thorin was having none of the sense Balin was trying to dispense, he wasn't even registering Fili's pleas to reconsider. A cyclic argument with no end in sight. So it went on into the night.

Bilbo returned a little before dawn, looking harrowed and weary. She'd pulled him back as quickly and and inconspicuously as she could.

"There is an orc army almost upon us all, Lin. Orcs said to be lead by Azog." He whispered.

Kneeling down to his level, she looked into his eyes, "tell me everything."

He lanuched into a report on the size and strength of the army as reported by Gandalf. The Elvenking didn't seem to believe Gandalf. Bilbo said he was after a set of gems in the mountain. Bard however, according to Bilbo seemed genuinely concerned and inclined to trust Gandalf.

"Especially after Gandalf mentioned you were his apprentice." Bilbo half smiled at her, "you've had an effect on him."

Linshara chuckled with mild amusement. "Alright, I'll say I've felt the Orc army incoming so they don't suspect you."

Bilbo nodded.

"Can you fetch someone to relieve me so I can talk to Thorin?" She asked as she went back to her position on the battlements.

"I'll do that right now."

But before he could actually go and fetch a replacement, she spoke again.

"Actually, get everyone, this is about to escalate." Linshara looked ahead and down and saw an army of elves and men march towards them, a majestic elk and a snow-white horse trotting in front of them.

"Goodness…" Bilbo muttered and took off down the makeshift steps hurriedly.

Linshara quickly ducked out of sight and heard the thundering footsteps of the dwarves come up. They quickly lined up the battlements, in as full armour as they could find, looking regal and fierce at the same time.

Below, the army stopped just above the bridge elevation, whilst the Elvenking and Bard rode up on their steeds.

The moods of the dwarves soon molded into one, staunch loyalty to their king, eventhough it was sorely misplaced. Even Balin and her Fili appeared to stand by Thorin at this hour, though she could feel their concern. Bilbo quietly padded over to her.

Thorin produced a majestic bow and knocked an arrow. As he released it, Linshara quickly made a motion with her hand, using the Force to have it hit the ground a little before the elk or it would have hit in straight between the eyes.

Unawares of her interference, Thorin knocked another one, "I will put the next one between your eyes," he growled, his anger ferocious and focused on Thranduil.

Something was wrong, Linshara could feel something else grasping at Thorin, he was almost radiating with the Dark Side of the Force, but as if it lay upon him, rather than fester inside him.

The dwarves cheered Thorin on in their native tongue.

At Thranduil's merest nod, his entire army unstrapped their bows and knocked their arrows, training them on the dwarves who ducked out of the way, all except Thorin who still held the arrow trained at Thranduil.

~Spirits, not even I can deflect that many…~ Linshara thought with a lot of concern.

Bard glanced at Thranduil, who raised his hand a little and as one the whole army stood down with their bows.

She and Bilbo watched through the cracks with increased interest.

"We've come to tell you, the payment of your debt has been offered." Thranduil said with a sneering, entitled, yet ever polite tone.

His mind brushed hers again, although he didn't acknowledge her physically, he knew she was there.

"And accepted." The elf added.

Thorin still would not relent, bow and arrow trained hard, "what payment? I gave you nothing! You have nothing!"

Thranduil looked over at Bard, who rode the snow-white horse with a smug look. The bowman withdrew from his coat, a large, white, shimmering crystal and held it up.

"We have this." He said.

Linshara could sense his great reluctance at doing this. Fili and Kili were shocked through the core.

"They have the Arkenstone…" Fili said quietly, almost glad and terrfied at the same time.

Kili on the other hand was brimming with fury. "Thieves! How came you by the heirloom of our house? That stone belongs to the king!"

Linshara felt a weight in her head, a familiar pain as she looked over at Thorin. She felt Bilbo's questioning hand on her arm. Something was moving at Thorin, something close, something familiar.

Bard replied in earnest, "and the king may have it," he tossed it in the air, caught it as it fell down and put it back in his pocket as he spoke, "with our good will."

Then Bard's countenance and inner self grew hard, "but first, he must honour his word!"

Thorin finally lowered the bow, "they are taking us for fools," he muttered to the dwarves. "This is a ruse. A filty lie!" He growled. "The Arkenstone is in THIS mountain! It is a trick."

Too focused on what was trying to ensnare Thorin further, Linshara failed to notice Bilbo walk over to them. She made a grab for him too late, looking wide eyed after the brave hobbit.

"It's no trick," Bilbo said as he walked over to Thorin. "The stone is real."

~Bilbo..no~ She realized what he was doing.

She wanted to interject and say it was her idea, Thorin couldn't hurt her, but she needed to stay in his vicinity and try to combat this...whatever it was before it was too late. Bilbo knew this. Was he banking on whatever that dark thing he carried in his pocket was to get him through this?

~No. He is just...brave...and selfless~ She felt a great rush of fondness for the little hobbit.

Behind him, she could feel Fili extremely concerned. Only Balin, he and Bofur now retained their senses, even Bifur was rather lost, though not all together as the others were, as Thorin was.

"I gave it to them," Bilbo continued resolutely.

Thorin felt angry and crushed at the same time as he looked over at Bilbo, "you…."

Linshara was gathering the Force around her, ready to leap in if Thorin harmed Bilbo.

Bilbo's brilliance shined once again as he collected his wits about him, "I took it as my fourteenth share."

The dwarf king turned his growing darkness towards Bilbo, "you would steal from me?"

Bilo looked at him incredulously, "steal from you? No. I may be a burglar but I'd like to think I'm an honest one."

"I'm willing to let it stand against my claim." He added.

There was anger and spite growing within Thorin. Linshara took a step forward.

"Against your claim?" Thorin growled, a 'how-dare-you' look on his face. "Your claim….you have no claim over me..." Thorin dropped his bow and made for Bilbo. "You filthy rat!"

It seemed to Linshara almost as if Thorin wasn't talking about Bilbo's claim but something else.

"I was going to give it to you," Bilbo stood his ground, "many times I wanted to, but…"

"But what, thief?" Thorin hissed, his voice changing a tone to something all too familiar.

"You are changed, Thorin." Bilbo pressed, "the dwarf I met in Bag End would never have gone back on his word! He would never have doubted the loyalty of his kin!"

"Do not speak to me of loyalty!" Thorin growled in a foreign voice, "throw him from the ramparts!"

That was it, the foreign voice, the invisible hand she'd been feeling, moving the pieces. Thorin was being confounded, influenced, the dragon sickness and the tainted gold only made it easier.

The dwarves made no move. "Did you not hear me!?" Thorin pulled at Fili roughly. The golden prince struggled out of his grasp just as roughly, a look of sadness and disappointment on his face at his uncle's actions.

"I will do it myself!" Thorin growled.

At this Linshara stepped forward along with everyone else, trying to pull Thorin off of Bilbo. She vaguely heard Fili yelling, 'no!' She however pulled back quickly as an image of yellow eyes and a bony, red skinned face flashed in her mind.

Kallus Ruun was influencing Thorin, she felt it clearly as she touched Thorin's shoulder.

Gandalf's voice boomed over the commotion suddenly, "if you don't like my burglar, then please don't damage him. Return him to me."

Fili stepped over to her, a hand on her shoulder, his eyes full of concer, for her, for Bilbo, for everyone. She nodded briefly.

"You're not making a very splending figure as King Under the Mountain, are you, Thorin, son of Thrain?" Gandalf pressed on as he joined Bard and Thranduil.

Either Ruun had stopped his attack on Thorin or Thorin was fighting him, because he stepped back and released Bilbo. Fili and Bofur quickly helped the gasping Bilbo up and lead him to the nearest rope.

Linshara nodded to him briefly, as she refocused on Thorin. She knew what she had to do, and it would not be pleasant. In fact it would be down right dark. But she saw no other choice. The dwarves needed Thorin to lead them. Deep down, Linshara knew there was still some good in him, fighting.

"Never again will I have dealings with wizards, or shire rats!"

Linshara looked to the east, and south east. A familiar migraine, a vision of a great mass of orcs was coming from south east and a great mass of dwarves from the east. The dwarven leader had a long read beard, with boar tusks vowen into his long moustache. He was riding a giant hog?

~What?~

The next question however, brought her back to the matter at hand.

"Are we resolved?" Bard called. "The return of the Arkenstone for what was promised?"

Thorin looked to the east, clearly expecting something.

~He's stalling, waiting for the dwarven reinforcement.~ Linshara concluded.

"Give us your answer." Bard called again. "Will you have peace? Or war?"

It was more than clear what he would have, and he voiced it moments later as a raven flew over to them suddenly, landing next to Thorin, who grinned almost maniacally.

Linshara closed her eyes and sighed. The grasp at Thorin's mind and soul was back, Ruun had reestablished his hold. Just then at the edge of the hill to the east, a dark line of small men with spears came into view, lead by a dwarf with long red hair and beard, riding a big hog.

~Oh no…~

"I will have war!" Thorin growled deeply.