Here is the first chapter in a new fic I have been thinking about. It will be a Thorin/Bilbo fic or possibly a Bilbo/Dwalin fic, will see where it takes me as I write. It is a time travel, fix it type fic and it does start off quite angsty but that won't last long. Set in Erebor when Thorin is around 77 and Smaug has yet to attack (some ages and dates etc have been fiddled with, just role with it.) In this fic hobbits live to be a similar age to dwarves. I hope you enjoy.
I do not own The Hobbit.
Chapter One.
Bilbo's heart broke and he wept freely as he stumbled through the bodies laid scattered all over the battlefield. So many dead, so many lives destroyed, families ripped apart. Blood stained the bottom of his feet and his right leg twinged where he had been sliced with an orc's blade. His back throbbed where an arrow had embedded itself below his should blade. His hands and arms were littered with small cuts and scrapes and a large bruise was blossoming over his right eye where he had been punched most fiercely.
He didn't stop though, he needed to find the others in The Company. Needed to learn of their fates. He prayed they were OK but knew it would be a miracle if all had managed to survive.
He came upon Bofur first, and his heart practically leapt for joy to see his friend alive and safe. Bofur pulled Bilbo into his strong arms. "Oh, thank Mahal, I thought for sure you were slain" Bofur murmured his voice strained.
"Come, he waits for you."
Bilbo was confused, who waits for him? Was it other members of The Company? Nether the less he followed Bofur until they reached a large tent. With great trepidation and a pounding heart he pushed the flap aside and walked in.
He was not prepared for the sight that greeted him. The whole company was there, sitting gathered around three bodies that were laid out on the floor. Bilbo's brain struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. Fili and Kili were lying motionless, their faces pale and their eyes closed. Thorin looked just as bad, but Bilbo could see his eyes were open and the rise and fall of his laboured breathing.
"Noo" he moaned in despair. It couldn't be true, Fili and Kili couldn't be dead. They were so young, had so much to live for. He felt as if he was suffocating under the weight of his own grief as he realised that he wouldn't see their happy faces and cheeky grins anymore. They had gone where he could not reach them.
He made his way past their lifeless bodies and collapsed beside Thorin. He heard sniffling from the dwarves around him as he clutched Thorin's hand close to his chest, praying that at least he would survive. That he would live to enjoy all they had fought for.
Bilbo turned to find Oin, the older dwarf sitting quietly beside his brother. As Bilbo caught his eye, he gave a subtle shake of his head. And Bilbo felt his vision swimming, edges turning black as clarity struck him once again. Thorin would not survive either.
Thorin turned his head to take in the trembling hobbit beside him. Oh, how he wished things could have been different. He tried to grip the small hand back but knew that his strength had all but deserted him.
"Bilbo" he gasped and the King under the mountain felt small hands on either side of his face.
"I'm here Thorin" Bilbo said desperately, clutching at the once stoic dwarf.
"I am sorry, Bilbo" Thorin murmured, his breathing turning shallow.
"N-No! There is nothing to be sorry for!" Bilbo cried helplessly, tears dripping down pale cheeks into thick dwarven hair.
Thorin's eyes closed, seemingly content now that he had said his final piece. With a final breath the last in the line of Durin died.
Bilbo threw himself onto Thorin's chest, beside himself with grief.
"No," he sobbed. "It can't end like this."
The dwarves around the tent cried out their own grief, the sound reverberating across the finished battlefield.
Such was Bilbo's pain and anguish, as well as the sorrow pouring off the surrounding dwarves that Yavanna herself stopped to take notice. Calling her husband to her. The two could not help but be moved by the plight of their children. They watched unseen as tears fell from even the most stoic of dwarves.
Yavanna turned and looked to her husband, receiving a nod, she approached the sobbing hobbit. Her most gentle creation. She bent down and breathed softly over Bilbo's face.
"Another chance" she whispered before vanishing. The scene before them disappearing like smoke in the wind.
Bilbo, so lost to his grief, did not notice as everything around him fell silent, the body below him and the others around him disappearing. He wasn't sure how long he laid there for, before he became aware enough to notice the grass beneath his face and the sun upon his back. He sat up and blinked up at a bright blue sky, a look of complete and utter confusion on his face. Where was Thorin and the others, the tent they had been in, where indeed was the entire battlefield?
Instead of blood and the bodies of fallen men, dwarves and elves he saw only rolling grass hills.
He heard the sound of thumping footsteps and rolled over to see a group of dwarves running toward him, axes and swords raised as their feet thumped heavily over the ground. He thought about standing up but couldn't seem to muster the energy.
"Ah," Bilbo mumbled. "At least there are still some dwarves here."
The dwarves came to a halt right in front of Bilbo and the young hobbit struggled to look up at them, sun blinding him as it was. They were all puffing and had their weapons raised but seemed not to know what to do with what lay before them.
The leader of the dwarves took in the small, frail creature before him. He was covered in blood and wounds and had an arrow sticking out of his back. Whatever had happened to him must have been dreadful indeed, for who would hurt such a small innocent creature. What ever had happened, it was clear that the being posed no threat to them.
"Hello" Bilbo said quietly, he raised a hand to try and wave but woozy as he was this only cause him to over balance and fall on his side with a soft oof.
"I think we need to take him to a healer" a voice murmured, and Bilbo couldn't help but agree.
"Splendid idea" Bilbo mumbled into the grass. "Is Oin around?"
A few of the dwarves shared looks at that. How did he know Oin?
"He is, would you like me to take you to him?"
"I think that would be best" Bilbo said, and the dwarves grew concerned as the little one's eyes began to flutter shut.
One of their number bent down and scooped him up. Mindful of the wounds that littered the body.
"What is he?" someone asked, but no one was able to give an answer, having not seen one of his kind before.
"Whatever he is, it's clear he needs assistance. Let us take him to Oin and sort the rest of this mess out later."