Chapter 18

"What can I do you for?" Bilbo adopted his Gamgee persona just for shits and giggles as he entered King Thranduil's tent. It was just the two of them this time around, the table still in place with the map and miniature army pawns placed where Bilbo had pinpointed the battle would take place.

His little accent received an icy glare from the elf, which he ignored, and he was motioned to take a seat across the table. Bilbo took it, interrupting his host before he could start speaking in the high and mighty way he does; "I have a gift for you, but you can't have it yet. Not because there are any contingencies that I would keep it from you if that's what you're thinking. I just need you to know that after this conversation you will receive it. Not a bribe, not an atonement for stealing MY dwarves back. You're receiving it because it's what I think is right."

This caused the king to pause as he thought about Bilbo's words. After a minute he nodded, "Very well, I'll keep that in mind. You played me for a fool, infiltrating my keep like a rat. I would have for your head on a platter now if not for the fact that it had amused me. But do not think my mercy is without cost. Even now you and your greedy band of dwarves ask for my help to defend a throne that they lost out of their own self-righteous." Thranduil lifted his goblet to take a sip, drawing out his monologue and making Bilbo want to roll his eyes.

"I asked for your presence again despite going against the council of many of my guards including Tauriel. This is because I seek something from your 'husband'." His deminer didn't necessarily change, but Bilbo could tell that he wasn't happy with the added political complexities between himself and the dwarven king. It probably was the only thing keeping the elf civil in the presence of the burglar that stole his hostages. "When he was jailed at my keep, I offered my aid in slaying his dragon in exchange for something that already belongs to me. I offer the same now to you. They are called the White Gems of Lasgalen, I seek them-"

"I know why you seek them," Bilbo cut in, taking a deep breath as he raised his chin high, "And I'm going to tell you I don't want your aid. I refuse to pay you like a mercenary; it would only insult us both. My dwarves conquered our dragon, and we will conquer this. I have taken an active part in carving out this moment in time; I have replaced your men with Lord Elrond's, who vigorously and enthusiastically hunt and kill orcs on a daily basis rather than being sheltered away in their tree house." He watched his insults hit their mark as anger painted the elf's face a mask of pure wrath. He didn't care, he was done playing dumb; he didn't have time for it.

"You tiny, arrogant, feeble-"

"Yes, yes. Insult me, threaten me. Feel free to take a crack at killing me if it will make you feel better. But those stones will not bring your wife back. Her memory doesn't live in them, they live in your children and the life you built together. I can tell you from experience that no stone can replace a heartbeat. In the end they will return to the earth where it was born." He shrugged. "You learned this lesson once before, but you had to almost lose Legolas to figure it out. I only pray you're a faster learner this time around. Keep your men, return to your forest. I will not indebt myself or my kingdom-" He didn't mention his kingdom consisted of one dwarf and a bear shifter, "- over your trinkets."

Standing to leave, he watched as the King's mouth gaped open and closed like a fish in utter shock at his audacity, the careful mask slipping for a fraction of an instant to reveal the real Thranduil underneath.

In Sindarin, "Oh yes, before I forget," He took a deep fancy bow before setting a small package wrapped in a dirty bloody handkerchief on the table in front of him. Turning, he could feel untapped magic hitting his back, murderous rage pulsing from the king like heat waves off of Smaug. Despite the anxiety it caused, he didn't look back as the Thranduil gave a roar of frustration and swept everything off the table in a fit of rage.

Slipping out of the tent flap, Bilbo smiled as silence befell the elf; a necklace of bright star shine having come loose from the bloody cloth as it crashed to the floor.

His next stop was Bard's tent, which was to the eastern side of the amassed forces, deep between tents of men and boy's preparing for the battle of their lives. The sun had already set, and there was a stillness to the cooled air. Bard's tent was small, not grand like Thranduil's, but easy enough to find after asking directions. Bard stood outside of it giving directions to two other men, one older who reminded him of Balin with his white hair and portly build. The other was much younger, with brown hair and doe eyes, he looked like he'd just reached adulthood. At seeing Bilbo, Bard dismissed the two before holding open the flap for the hobbit. Inside there was a single bedroll, a chair, and a long bow and sword sitting propped in the corner. Bilbo ignored the chair, sitting in the middle of the floor which drew a raised eyebrow from the man before he too sat in the dirt.

"I'm sorry if I've upset you, I only decided the fate of the Master after our first meeting. I had you prepared to fight a dragon, not prepared for what happened if you didn't have to fight the dragon."

"It's of little concern. While I had hoped you'd be of stronger moral fiber, I guess this is the game one plays with power." Bilbo felt the sting of his words, but refused to shame for his actions.

"It's not, it's how one survives. You and I were never great friends before, and you never have to speak to me again after we are done here if you wish. But I will not doubt my choices."

"None of them?" His eyes trailed down to Bilbo's bruises.

"What would you recommend I do differently? Not fall in love with him? Then I would have never been driven to travel back to this time, your town would have burned, and he would soon die. No, I will choose to love him in every life I live; It's unfortunate that things turned out the way they did. But even then, had I not been driven out of Erebor I would not be here to fill my end of our bargain."

"I had thought our bargain was null given that you are alone in a camp of elves."

"I'm not alone, and I am ready to fulfil my promise to you. Ori will head to Lake Town in the morning. Please write some sort of note so that when he goes to your children they know you sent him. They will be safe with him, and if anything were to go south, he's been ordered to take them past the Misty Mountains to my family home in the shire. If you survive you will know where they are, and if you don't you will rest well knowing they are safe."

He'd discussed it with Ori over one of their breaks yesterday, when he hadn't known if he would stay to help the fight or continue to the shire. While the dwarf hadn't been thrilled at the idea of parting from Bilbo, when Bilbo had used words like 'emissary' and 'political alliance', and 'guarding the future king of Dale', he'd hesitantly agreed. It also put Bilbo's mind at ease that at least one of his dwarves would survive simply because he wasn't there.

The man frowned at this news, "I've never even heard of the shire, and why would they be safer their than in a kingdom of Men? Rohan would be closer and less perilous for the children."

"I assure you; this is only the last option should anything happen to turn the orcs towards Lake Town. The shire has an odd tendency to keep out those who don't know about it, with many beings seemingly rediverting themselves or getting lost. It could be magic, or it could be bad civil engineering." Or it could be hobbits spending centuries trying to keep out pesky wizards and their adventures, he thought to himself, "Often only those of us who have been there before, which Ori has, can find Bag End. I offer the protection of my family home for several reasons. The first being that they will get to grow up; there are no political agendas in the shire, they will get to be children. When they reach adulthood and choose to leave then Bree is not but a day's journey, a settlement of Eriador. From there they can make their own way in life."

Bilbo shrugged, meeting the man's eyes dead on. "But I promised you to keep your family safe in return for your support in my campaign. My ideal plan is for us to survive this battle, obliterating the orcs under the shadow of Erebor, and all of us returning to our loved ones unscathed." Images of Thorin dieing in his arms crossed his mind, dampening his mood slightly, "This is only a backup plan to a backup plan."

Bard thought over what he had said, "Very well, send your dwarf. If it come's to their needing to leave Lake Town and I do survive, I'll very likely out pace them and reach them before they are able to cross the mountains." He reasoned, "I'll trust in your protection with much thanks. I spoke with Lord Elrond, we finally agreed on a strategy and plan to head out at first light. If you're correct and there is an ambush waiting for Dain's forces, we will be ready."

" And the squads I requested to sit on the royal family during the battle?"

"Elrond has assigned his two sons to Thorin and the heir, we have yet to get any word from Thranduil as to whether he will lend his guard captain to your family."

"I just left his tent, and it's very likely he will pull out his forces and head back to Mirkwood. I'll ask Elrond if he is able to find someone else to spare, otherwise I'll ask Beorn to find him." It bugged him that he'd likely burned that bridge with the elven king, and by extension any connection with a fiery elven warrior that his lovesick beardless dwarf has been pining over. But so long as he lived to be heartbroken, it didn't matter.

"As you wish... Has anyone told you that you look terrible?"

"Just my reflection," Bilbo appreciated Bard's straightforwardness; he knew he was running on fumes after the last few days. But even trying to rest had failed him as he couldn't keep his mind still long enough to find even a nightmare filled sleep. "You'll have to take me out for celebratory drinks after this, I'm sure four pints of ale would help me get some rest."

"Four?!" Bard laughed, "You're the size of one!"

"That may be so, but we Baggins excel at drinking competitions," he grinned back.

"Then we'll have to put it to the test."

They spent some time going over the plans, and several of Bard's men came and went from the tent to carry word back to Elrond or inform their own troops; soon Bilbo knew all six of the men who would lead under Bard's command. They all cast odd looks at the two sitting on the floor, but didn't question it and would join them on the floor.

It was near midnight before Bilbo made his way back to Dwalin's tent. He knew he'd be unlikely to get more than a few hours of sleep before the camp was to be broken down, but his feet practically dragged through the grass and dirt by the time he laid himself down on his bedroll. Dwalin had been awake, sitting up in his bed sharpening one of his swords. He'd given a nod when Bilbo appeared, set his sword to the side to lay down and find his own sleep. Ori was curled up into a ball on his side while Beorn had shifted back into a bear and was resting just off to the side of the tent.

There he lay, is eyes closed with just the faintest fading of consciousness before he heard, "Bilbo?"

"Mmm?" He groaned internally as his brain felt like it rebooted with energy at the faint murmur of Ori's voice.

"I don't think I can do it. What you asked. I don't have a weapon. How am I supposed to protect the children with no weapon." He whispered, worry and self-doubt causing his voice to strain.

"I'll get you one." Bilbo muttered sleepily, trying to hang on to the tiredness to drag him back under.

"But… I've never been on a mission on my own before. What if I mess up? You told me how important they are to the future of Erebor… I think you should pick someone else…"

Bilbo turned toward the young dwarf, his expression softening as he noticed the shimmer of unshed tears in Ori's eyes.

"No," Bilbo said firmly, his tone laced with quiet conviction. "I'm not going to pick anyone else because I KNOW you can do this. I've never doubted your abilities—not once. You're as strong as your brothers and as fierce as any dwarf I've met. But that's not why I chose you."

He leaned closer, his gaze unwavering. "I chose you because of something they can't match: your heart. It's bigger than all of theirs combined. This isn't a task for the King, the captain of the guard, or an advisor. I would not ask the thief, the cook, or even the doctor. This mission needs someone who knows what it's like to be scared and young, someone who can tell a story that brings courage when hope feels lost."

Bilbo reached out, clasping Ori's hand with a reassuring squeeze. "I needed someone who will put those children first. Someone who will lead them to safety, no matter what it takes. And that's you, Ori. You'll get a weapon, and you'll get the job done. I would never ask anything from you that you couldn't do."

Ori sniffed and nodded, a small smile curling his lips as he turned over to get some sleep.

The 'morning' came quickly. Bilbo was sure that they must have meant mid-night camp breakdown, as it was still dark when Dwalin shook him from his nightmare, the rest of the men and elves pulling tents down, rolling up tarps and extinguishing fires. Grumbling, he rubbed his eyes as the dwarf pushed some bread into his hands before disappearing into the swarm of movement around them. Beorn sat next to him in his human for with a similar breakfast. Ori was nowhere in sight.

"Do you always sleep so fretfully?" The shifter asked through a full mouth of bread.

"Yes, especially recently." He gave a grateful nod to the male as he passed a water skin across the fire. Taking a healthy gulp of cool water soothed his throat and made the bread go down easier.

"Do the bruises have anything to do with it?" Anger lit his eyes, though his demeanor remained calm.

"Not likely. I… Have a lot going on." Bilbo shrugged trying to look anywhere but the other males gaze as he chewed on his breakfast.

"Want me to kill him?"

"What?" Bilbo squeaked out with a cough, nearly choking.

"I owe you much, my future friend. I smelled the fear and another male on you when I found you by the river. I'm a good tracker, and would happily bring you his head."

"Wow, um, thank you; But I'm actually trying very hard to keep that one alive." Bilbo was reconsidering his plan to send Beorn after Kili. "Also, you don't owe me anything."

"But I do, I found them." Shock shot through Bilbo as he instantly understood who he'd found.

"I'm so happy to hear it, are they well?"

"The female and cub were very malnourished when I found them, but I was able to bring them both back to my home safely. After helping them settle I left straight away to find you." The bear man was grinning ear to ear, "I'm no longer alone."

Bilbo felt as if his heart would explode from happiness in this moment, the look of sadness and torment that had always lived on Beorn's face had finally disappeared. "I look forward to meeting them someday."

"So I owe you much. This male hurt you, so even if you do not wish him dead, are you sure I can't maim him for you?" Dwalin appeared at the tail end, sitting down next to Bilbo with a brush.

"Who are we maimin'?" He started working on the knots in Bilbo's curls, surprisingly gentle.

"No one."-"The male who bruised this small one." They answered at the same time.

"Ah, Thorin does deserved a good throttling over that." Beorn cast a smug look at Bilbo, "But if Bilbo doesn't do it himself, I'll be very surprised."

"What makes you say that?" Dwalin sat down the brush, shifting to run dexterous fingers through pieces of hair to pull them away from Bilbo's face.

"I saw the fat lip ye gave him when he insulted ye, I know ye can handle yourself."

"Ah yes, that." Bilbo rolled his eyes, before he realized, "Where's Ori?"

"Headed to Lake Town. Bard's man brought a note for the children about thirty minutes before I woke ye, I gifted him my hammer TO BORROW, then sent him on his way." He emphasized the words as if Bilbo would let the lad keep it.

"Thank you, he was very concerned about not having a weapon."

"Aye, so I heard. Once we are back in Erebor I'll be sure to pick out something that's better suited for him."

They sat for several minutes in silence as Bilbo finished his bread before he finally asked, "Dwalin? What are you doing to my hair?"

"Ye're a leader of dwarrow, the royal consort to the King of Erebor, and you plan to confront Dain Ironfoot in what could turn into a bloodbath between elves, men and dwarves. I'm braiding yer hair."