Possible TRIGGER WARNING,Thorin's possessiveness and unhealthy (gold-sicky) view of Bilbo hits an all time high, with non-con bondage scenes and domestic abuse and violence resulting in bruises. These elements are bad and are used to show how how far gone Thorin's sanity has become, this behavior is in no way condoned. Again, I 100% understand if you need to skip this chapter. Your mental health matters. If you choose to skip but want a summary, comment at the bottom and I'll be happy to give you a summary!
Two weeks passed slowly as Bilbo counted down the days. Things had gotten stranger, and the company's dynamic was strained on its best day, turning downright miserable on its worst. He'd gone from enjoying the company of his friends to being ignored by almost everyone except Thorin. He wasn't sure what he had done to cause this change other than beginning a relationship with their king. When he had brought it up to Thorin he'd simply responded with a laugh, saying that it was all in his head. While he wasn't sure, no one had offered an alternative. The ring had been utterly silent for the time; it hadn't mattered as Bilbo's own thoughts were enough to torture him.
He'd first asked to help with the sorting of treasure but had quickly been sent away. So he'd spent his days wandering the halls of the main city. Thousands of years of art and architecture housed itself in stone. He hadn't been able to explore much his first time around so he'd devoted his idleness to learning as much as he could about the kingdom. He still only had the four phrases in Khazdul, and no alphabet to understand any text, but the murals, mosaics, and carvings he'd found were often self-explanatory. He'd even found one of the bath houses, though dry as a bone it had been as amazing as Dwalin had described.
Three weeks after Durin's Day, welcome faces appeared at the steps of Erebor. Gandalf stood in the doorway, looking a little worn but no worse for wear from his travels. Bilbo stood from where he had been watching the others work, running to his friend.
"Gandalf it is so good to see you!" He stopped short of hugging the great grey wizard, shifting awkwardly instead as he remembered the last time he'd hugged Ori the week before. Thorin had been enraged, a jealous fit that the king had later attributed to fear for his safety. He'd claimed that he couldn't just go touching anyone he pleased as that could become a dangerous habit for assassins to take advantage of. Bilbo wasn't so sure he bought it but had refrained from touching anyone else.
"It is wonderful to see you as well my friend, and I must say I'm glad to see you in one piece." The wizard leaned heavily on his staff to smile down at the hobbit. "But unfortunately, I have no time for pleasantries. We must speak to Thorin immediately."
"We?"
"Oh yes, Bilbo Baggins, this is my new acquaintance; the Leader of Lake Town, Bard the Bowman." He stepped aside revealing the man standing behind him.
Bard stepped forward to address the wizard, "The Master Baggins and I have already met each other from when he and the dwarves were in town." He smiled down at the hobbit with a small nod, which Bilbo took to mean that everything had gone to plan.
"Good to see you again, welcome. I'm afraid everything is alittle out of sort-"
"Gandalf." Thorin walked up behind him, wrapping an arm around Bilbo's waist to push him slightly back behind his taller frame.
"Thorin, it is good to see you. May I introduce to you the leader of Lake Town, Bard the Bowman. We have things we wish to discuss with you."
Thorin glared at the man-wizard duo, but nodded for them to follow while calling out for Balin and Fili over the banister. Leading them down the hall, he kept Bilbo pinned to his side. They entered an offshoot room that held a large stone table that Balin had told him has existed in Erebor since Durin himself stole it away from the elves. Around it sat several small stone seats with no backs, while the head of the table held a large stone throne where Thorin placed Bilbo. The king stood in front, fists braced on the table as he waited for his unwanted guests to take their seats.
"I will start, you're bringing trouble upon yourself by taking this mountain without the backing of your kin," Gandalf lit his pipe, not looking at Thorin. "You've caught the eye of every power this side of the Misty Mountains, and I fear for your safety here in Erebor."
"You'll not force us from our home again. It is my birthright to rule under the mountain, I need no backing." Thorin growled.
"Not everyone sees it as such. King Thranduil's army, ten thousand strong, was prepared to march on Erebor only four days ago. Luckily he was diverted on other matters, for which you have Bard to thank."
"Of course this man," He spat the word as if it was foul, "is in cahoots with those tree eaters."
"Thorin, I think you should listen to him." Bilbo whispered from behind him. He saw Balin's eyes go wide as Thorin's back stiffened, the elder Dwarf shaking his head in warning to Bilbo.
"Indeed," Gandalf gave a puff before continuing on, his gaze wary as he watched the king before him. "None the less, we have bigger problems than Thranduil; Evil forces are at work. Orc armies from both Dol Guldur and Gundabad march to the lonely mountain as we speak. Azog looks to end the line of Durin for good. You must see the benefit of aligning with Man and Elf if for no other reason than to protect yourself."
"If that is the concern then there is no safer place for me and my kin than Erebor. I will not beg the aid of Men nor Elf again."
"Thorin, I think you should hear them out." Thorin turned on him then, his rage palpable. Something was off in his eyes.
"You'd dare question me? All elves are liars and will not aid us out of the goodness of their heart. They seek my gold and I will not part with a single coin to them."
"And the men? What have they done to wrong you?" Bilbo's voice rising in volume.
"This man? You heard Gandalf, he's the leader of Lake Town. I doubt he got the position by chance. He probably poisoned the master himself for his riches and power. Why should I trust a shady fox in our hen house?"
Bilbo stood then, drawing on his full height to stare down the dwarf. "No, I poisoned the Master."
This seemed to shock the entire room, except Gandalf who looked concerned by something far away.
"You," Thorin spoke through clenched teeth, "You would aid this man, come to his defense over me? Question me?"
"You know not what you speak you stubborn arse. You are unwell or you would see the logic in this alliance. I built it for you so that you might protect Erebor and your people."
"I will protect it, and everything it holds. You will not betray me. You are mine."
"I am not. I am not made of gold or jewel. You cannot possess me." At that something seemed to tip in Thorins mind, his bright blue eyes darkening to black as he reach up to grasp Bilbo by the throat. Bilbo's heart beat skyrocketed as the pressure of his hand made him feel faint. Everyone stood in protest.
"Thorin don't do it."
"Uncle please stop."
"Bilbo!"
"Thorin, unhand my burglar," Gandalf stepped away from the table trying to press forward only for Balin to stop him. The similar situation between Fili and Bard.
"Not burglar- dwarf. Dwarf by dwarven law and mine to do with what I wish."
"What is this?" Gandalf asked looking down at Balin. Bilbo's head was swimming making it hard to understand what was going on as he fought for breath. His fingers clawed at the hand holding his throat.
"The allotted time to reject the marriage proposal has passed," Balin's voice was low, almost mournful. "It has been consummated, Bilbo belongs to Thorin and Thorin to Bilbo, one and the same as was decided by Aulë." The words slammed into Bilbo, each a stone pitted into his stomach as he starred up at the love of his life and didn't recognize the one staring back. He could hear the tiny tink of the beads in his hair, recognizing them for what they were truly meant to be. Wedding bands… or shackles.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He rasped out.
"You're mine."
"No," He glared back, forcing his words to steady as his heart felt as if it was being carved from his chest. "You cannot own me."
"I do. I will do with you what I wish. You will not question me and in return I will love you forever."
"And if I refuse? You'll throw me from the rampart?"
An evil grin spread across Thorin's handsome face, twisting it into something ugly and other, the madness in his eyes apparent as if it had never been any other way. His grip tightened, cutting of the blood to Bilbo's head as he whispered, "I'd never throw away a jewel. But you, ghivashel, I will keep you safe." Before everything went black.
Bilbo's head pounded under his eyelids as he groaned trying to recall what had happened. When the memories came rushing back, he sat up to find himself in his and Thorin's quarters. The room was dim and cold, their quarters rendered alien in the firelight's absence. The hearth was reduced to smoldering embers, the flickering glow casting elongated, sinister shadows on the walls. Shifting slightly, he felt a weight heavy on his leg, the sound of metal jingling under the blanket. Removing the cover showed what he feared, a manacle locked around his ankle attached to a long chain that was secured to the metal footboard of the bed frame. A nauseating realization churned in his stomach. Their marriage bed had become his prison.
"Don't look so forlorn, it won't be this way forever," came a voice from the darkness, low and almost tender. Squinting, Bilbo could see Thorin's outline sitting in the dark, his head in his hands.
"No, because every healthy marriage starts with bondage," Bilbo quipped, his voice shaking with his fear. If he was going to find a way out of this, he needed to keep Thorin talking.
"I will keep you." The words carried a chilling finality, the whisper was barely audible as he stood to walk into the into what little light was left. Thorin's face was pale, drawn tight with a manic intensity that made him almost unrecognizable. His eyes, once warm, were now as cold and hard as polished obsidian. A lump formed in B's throat, dread curling in his gut as the dwarf approached the bed. Bilbo scooted as far to the other side as he could. . It didn't matter. Thorin reached down, grasping the chain, and yanked it with ease. Bilbo slid across the sheets with a startled cry
"Thorin-" His voice failed him as firm hands grasped his ankles. Adrenalin flooded his bloodstream as he tried to kick out, pulling as hard as he could to escape the iron-like grasp. Reaching out, Thorin wrapped his fingers around Bilbo's throat to pull him up from the bed to kiss his lips; a punishing clashing of flesh as Bilbo tried futilely to break away. He seemed to suck the very air from Bilbo's lungs.
"Thorin," He pleaded, breaking free as he tried to push at Thorin's chest. "You cannot keep me in here forever, please let me go." His voice cracked.
"So that man can take whats mine? The wizard?" He snarled, "The elves that even now march to take my throne, my treasure? They would take you if they found you, knowing you are the most precious thing to me. Knowing how much you're worth. That man knew, there was lust in his eyes as he watched you greedily." There was only rage in Thorin's black eyes; they looked without truly seeing.
"I'm not going anywhere," He spoke softly, soothing the dwarf. But the gold sickness had definitly taken his senses, turning Bilbo into just another item to hoard.
Thorin's expression shifted, a dark sort of satisfaction spreading across his face. "No," he murmured, almost to himself. "You're not. You're safe here, my jewel. I won't let anything—or anyone—take you from me."
Bilbo's fear increased as he looked around for anything to break the lock or pick it; everything had been moved well away from him. It struck him that this male planned to lock him away permanently, and he was utterly at his mercy. The dwarf stepped back to move towards the door, the room darkening by the second as the embers slowly extinguished themselves. Bilbo's breaths heaved in panic, tears running down his face.
"Listen to yourself!" He cried out, pulling hard against the chain, the metal biting into his skin. "This isn't love! This isn't protection! It's…it's madness." Thorin's face darkened, his jaw tightening. "Madness?" he echoed, his voice low and dangerous. "What's mad is letting you go. What's mad is trusting the world to keep you safe when it's failed over and over. You have nearly died from starvation, drowning, sickness and being eaten. No, you will remain here."
The weight of Thorin's words pressed down on their chest like a suffocating fog. "You're scaring me," Bilbo whispered, his voice barely audible.
For a moment, something flickered in Thorin's blackened eyes—remorse, doubt perhaps—but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He stepped back into the shadows of the corridor. "You'll see, my jewel," he murmured. "You'll understand in time."
Thorin had left him then, for how long he could not recall. Could have been minutes or days. He lay on his side curled with his legs hugged tightly to his chest, his eyes squeezed tight against the deafening darkness around him. The tears hadn't stopped streaming across his face and his neck felt bruised from where Thorin had grabbed him. I should have seen it, the thought kept repeating over and over in his head, if I hadn't been so desperate for him to love me back, I would have known. The ring was laughing at him in the back of his head; glutton, glutton, glutton.
While this encounter with his insane lover had been mostly conversation, he was still chained to a bed, his freedoms stripped from him, not just physically, but in every sense that mattered. The realization gnawed at him, bitter and unrelenting. This wasn't just a single moment of madness—it was a pattern, one he had ignored for far too long.
Bilbo's mind raced back to the beginning, to the subtle shifts he had brushed aside. Thorin's protectiveness had bordered on possessive, but he'd told himself it was love. Love was supposed to be consuming, wasn't it? Love meant someone cared enough to fight for you, even to the exclusion of all else. Wasn't that the point? Wasn't that the reason he'd traveled back in time?
But this wasn't love. This was control.
For the last three weeks, every argument where Thorin had dismissed his feelings as overreactions, every time he had yielded to his demands to avoid a fight, every moment he'd been made to feel like he owed the dwarf his devotion—they all stacked up now, pieces of a puzzle he had been too blind to assemble.
"I should have seen it," he whispered to the empty room, his voice cracking. His body trembled, the chain rattling softly as he hugged his knees tighter. "I should have known." But he hadn't. He had clung to the warmth of the king's affections, mistaking the intensity for passion, mistaking the need for control as love. And now, here he was, reduced to a prisoner in the very space that was supposed to be their sanctuary.
The bruises on his neck throbbed, a cruel reminder of how far Thorin was willing to go. Bilbo traced the tender skin with trembling fingers, shame and anger mixing in his chest. How had he allowed it to come to this? How had he let himself become so small, so weak?
The shaking of the door latch set his teeth on edge, his entire body stiffening in fear, causing his body to quake. He continued to feel powerless, and as much as his mind told him should want to fight, he couldn't bring himself to find the strength. Maybe it was the darkness which had engulfed him like that damn lizard. Maybe it was the ring, that continues to chip away at his own sanity from the safety of his mushroom bag. Instead of trying to find a way out he remained where he was, listening as the metal of the door handle ground against itself before finally giving way. The door squeaked open, and Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut, fearing which version of Thorin would walk through the door.
Instead he felt a small pressure on his chained ankle. Looking up he saw the shadowy outline of Nori, causing him to weep further. He didn't know what the dwarf was here for, but he didn't want the strong thief to see him like this.
"Shh, don't worry my friend, we're getting you out of here."
"H-how?"
"Thorin's distracted in a rage looking for the stone, Balin tried to calm him, but he says he'll keep digging until he finds it." Nori inserted two small rods into the shackle, jiggling them to and fro as he explained, "I'm to get you and your stuff, Dori will lead you to the backdoor, and Ori will accompany you to Lake Town."
"Why are you helping me?" He wiped his face as he sat up, his arms shaking from the effort. "You can't go against your king."
"Bah! MY king wouldn't have done this," his words were filled with venom. "MY king ordered us to protect our burglar and that's what I intend to do."
The tiny click and the metal fell away, causing Bilbo's adrenaline to spike as he rushed from the bed. The quick movement had blood rushing to his head, causing him to stumble. A large strong hand caught him by his arm. He jerked away in fear, turning quickly to push Nori away. Seeing his reaction Nori raised his hands, gentling his tone.
"It's okay, I won't hurt you."
"No, I know, I'm sorry." Ashamed of his reaction he tried to get his breathing back under control, "I'm sorry."
"It's okay if you need to take a minute."
"I'm alright." Turning towards the dresser that inhabited one of the corners of the room, his found his coat folded neatly on top. Opening one of the drawers to pull out the mithril tunic, he slipped it over his head. Grabbing his coat, he felt along the secret pockets to make sure everything was still where it was supposed to be before sliding his arms into it as well. Strapping Sting to his hip, he nodded at Nori for him to lead on. Nori approached the door, giving it a small knock before pushing it open. In the hall Dori was standing as watch. Upon seeing Bilbo, the usually grumpy dwarf's eye's watered. "Master Baggins, we'll be gettin' you out of here now."
Turning his head, Bilbo met Nori's eyes, whispering "Thank you," to his friend as he was led down the quiet halls. It took close to thirty minutes to find their way back to the back door, while traveling the blackened corridors caused his heart rate to skyrocket, the thought of turning back never crossed his mind. They reached the back door to find Ori scribbling furiously in his book, a pack of supplies sitting next to him. The lad gasped in shock at the sight of Bilbo.
"Bilbo…"
"I know, I forgot to comb my hair." He joked, trying to divert the attention from him, even as his voice croaked from the effort to talk and he raised a hand to cover the bruise. Turing back to Dori,
"Thank you for helping me. I know you and your brothers are risking a lot for me."
"And we would do it again in a heartbeat. Our king is sick I fear; no excuse, just a simple fact. We didn't keep it from happening, for which I am sorry. This is harm we all caused you. But I could not sit back and let it continue. You have been good to all of us, and I'd like to consider you a friend Master Baggins."
"Bilbo… please call me Bilbo." He smiled weakly, earning a grin from the posh dwarf.
"Safe travels. You've helped us get our home back, you deserve to return to the peace of yours." Turning, Dori disappeared quickly down the corridor, leaving Bilbo to contemplate the future as he and Ori exited the mountain.
