Many Paths: Chapter Three
May. 15th, 2015 04:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
flakediceTitle: Many Paths (3 of 10)
Author(s): Flakedice
Artist(s):![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
charlies_dragon, penumbria_fics and croix_souillees
Fandom(s): The Hobbit
Type: Slash
Rating: Mature
Word Count/Art type: 44,550 words
Characters/Pairings: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Warnings/Spoilers: major character death, graphic violence, gore, torture, psychological torture, ptsd, (tiny bit of) self-harm, suicide (sort of), mental illness (Please highlight to read)
Summary: Bilbo wakes up in Dale. With the memory of a battle won but lives lost, he finds an army of Men and Elves readying to attack Erebor. Bilbo tries to save his dwarves. Again and again.
MANY PATHS
"Bilbo." Thorin stepped forward, a look of shocked surprise on his face.
Bilbo didn't stop running. He darted past Dwalin and grabbed Thorin's arm, pulling him forward. "It's a trap. We need to leave. Now!"
Kili and Fili exchanged glances. Shocked but galvanised by his words. Their hands went to their weapons, and they hurried back across the rock that separated them.
Dwalin stepped forward to block their path. "What do you mean, laddie?"
Bilbo resisted the urge to throw his hands in the air, tightening his grip on Thorin's arm instead. "Bolg is bringing another army from the north!" He gave Thorin a tug, steering him around Dwalin's stubborn bulk.
Thorin steps were slow but he was moving. He glanced up at Ravenhill's silent tower before glancing back at Bilbo's face.
Whatever he saw there had him nodding. He started moving faster until he was pulling Bilbo along. "We retreat. Quickly!"
With one last glance at the towers, Dwalin let out a frustrated noise. But he made no other protest, falling in behind Fili and Kili, pushing them forward with a hand to their shoulders.
They were nearly running as they retreated back down the stony path. Bilbo matched the dwarves' fast trot with dread filled speed. Bolg hadn't arrived with his army yet.
The question was why.
It became clear once they reached the plateau below.
The frozen river lay before them, a wide expanse of ice.
Bilbo faltered as he stepped on the cold icy sheet, memories of blood and snow. Of familiar dwarven bodies lying still on stone and ice. The eagles flying overhead as he sat at Thorin's side.
Thorin noticed his hesitation, and slowed. "Bilbo?"
Whatever answer Bilbo might have given died in his throat.
"Ambush!" Dwalin reacted first, pulling Fili back, urging Kili to do the same.
Bilbo pulled Sting from its sheath, the small sword emerging with a grim scrape.
Orcs had emerged from the tower, rising from behind boulders. An army of them.
"We fight to break free!" Thorin instructed, his own sword held in his hand. "We will live to fight another day."
Another day. Bilbo only had the time to draw in a shaky breath and then the orcs were running forward, their dark blades held high.
The line of orcs staggered as the dwarves met them with axe and sword. Orcs were flung back as they met Dwalin's axes and Thorin's sword. Others diverted in an attempt to flank them, only to meet Fili and Kili’s blades.
The battle was savagely fought, even as they fell back towards the path, a slow retreat across the ice. Bilbo shuddered with dread as his feet made contact with the frozen surface. Memories of previous fights across the ice had him lunge forward, stabbing with extra force at an orc drawing too close to Fili.
Orcs littered the snow, a growing pile of corpses beyond their defensive circle. They had traversed half-way across the frozen river when a harsh shout sounded out.
Bilbo slashed an orc across its face and whipped his head around.
Azog had arrived. The white orc stood on the rocky outcrop overlooking the ice. Even as Bilbo watched, he made a commanding gesture with his hand. There were more orcs at his back.
Reinforcements in sight, the orcs battling them renewed their efforts. They pressed forward, regardless of risk, intent on breaking through.
Thorin fought them off with renewed ferocity, Dwalin's axes a blur at his side. "Du Bekâr!!" Thorin roared out the words as he hammered an orc into the ice with so much force the surface beneath it cracked.
Fili and Kili let out answering cries, blades finding weak spots and smashing aside orcs into the paths of their comrades.
Bilbo did as much damage as he could, darting forward to help even the odds, aware that Azog was coming.
And come he did.
Another wave of orcs arrived, threatening to swamp them. But even as they were forced to give ground, Bilbo knew worse was to come.
Bilbo ducked an orc's sword swing, sliding between his legs and rising to slice across his spine. The move had separated him somewhat from Fili and Kili, and Bilbo stabbed at the orc which now separated him from the others.
Turned as he was, he had the perfect view of Kili, spinning around to cut down an orc that was trying to slip past him to Thorin and Dwalin. A blow that left him wide open to the other orc approaching his flank.
Kili wouldn't be able to deflect it. And Bilbo was too far away to save him-
In a move that was almost too fast to follow, Fili grasped his brother's arm and swung him out of the way.
The orc's blade slid through a gap in Fili’s armour, and punched right through him, emerging a bloody spike from his throat.
"Fili!" Kili screamed as he saw his brother, blood spraying from his mouth as his knees gave out.
Thorin's head snapped around, his eye widening in horror as he caught sight of his nephew.
Fili's mouth worked, only wet choked noises escaping, and then he was toppling forward onto the ice. His swords landing with sharp metallic sound, his body falling with a dull thud.
The weaponless orc behind him sneered, stepping forward-
Only to meet Kili's furious strike. The dwarven blade slicing up through his throat with such force that the orc's head was half severed.
With a yell of rage, Kili flung himself towards Azog, killing orcs and leaping from one shifting sheet of ice to the next.
"Kili!" It was Thorin, battling against the orcs that separated them.
But Kili ignored him, focused on avenging his brother.
Dwalin, seeing Kili's course, let out a curse even as more orcs took advantage of their broken defence.
With a sense of familiar horror, Bilbo realized none of them would be able to get to Kili in time.
Just as he’d had no chance to reach Fili.
Kili threw himself at Azog, sword colliding with the white's orc's blade. Bilbo saw him disengage and strike fast at Azog's unprotected side and then he had several orcs of his own to worry about.
A snarling orc lunged for him and Bilbo darted sideways. Pain burst across his shoulder as its sword caught him with a heavy blow. But Bilbo trusted the mithril armour, skittering back out of reach.
There was more than one orc. And Bilbo would have to get rid of them all. He could hear Kili's yells and Dwalin roaring in rage. Thorin was calling out in Khuzdul.
The ice below his feet gave Bilbo an idea. The risks were great but Bilbo ignored the small gibbering voice at the back of his mind and ran at the orcs.
The move took them by surprise. Bilbo was virtually unopposed as he dodged the first and then struck at the ice right behind him. He ran between the orcs, striking at the ice below their feet and then retreating, leaving them to the weakened ice.
It cracked. A soft snapping sound that grew louder as the orcs stilled, realizing the danger of their situation.
The ice cracked wider, splitting apart beneath the orcs as they tried to flee. Bilbo skittered back, lighter and able to reach more solid ice.
The orcs were not so lucky. Holes opened up beneath them, chunks of ice breaking free and dumping them into icy water. They struggled and clawed at the ice, heavy armour pulling them under.
It was horrible.
But Bilbo couldn’t regret it. He left the struggling orcs, running back to Thorin.
"Rani Khozdil!"
Bilbo froze, horror filling him at the sight of Azog standing in front of a hole in the ice before the tower. Holding a struggling Kili up by his hair.
Dwalin let out a roar of rage, laying into the orcs that lay between them. They fell, limbs sheared off and flesh torn open.
But Thorin was quicker. He cut an orc across its knees, slitting its throat as it fell into reach. With a yell, he barrelled into another orc, tossing it aside.
His gaze was on Kili twisting in Azog's grip.
With a dreadful smile, Azog knelt and thrust Kili under the icy water.
"Kili!" Thorin disembowelled an orc and thrust it aside.
Azog allowed his arm to flex, his hand still gripped tight in Kili's hair.
Kili clawed his way to the surface, gasping, hair plastered to his face. One hand clawed at Azog's arm while the other flailed in the water.
He was only able to draw in another breath and then he was being thrust into the water again.
"Bastard! Imrid!" Dwalin had half a dozen orcs around him but he wielded his axes as if he were trying to cut down a forest. There were countless orc corpses strewn over the ice, but Dwalin hadn't been able to break free of them.
Bilbo had started running without even realizing it. He skidded over the ice, leaping over fallen corpses. An orc appeared in front of him and Bilbo twisted past it, Sting slicing across its stomach.
Kili's arms thrashed in the water, great sprays jetting up with his struggles. But Azog held him, smiled as he held Kili under the icy water unable to breathe-
Kili was drowning. Kili was drowning in front of them-
"Kili!" Thorin yanked his sword free from the chest of an orc and ran forward. He was at the edge of the hole in the ice now and he put on a burst of speed.
Bilbo's eyes were fixed on Kili. His arms slowing, his struggles getting weaker. Slowing-
Azog drove his arm into the water, pushing Kili deeper. Kili's arms flailed, weakly plucked at Azog's arm. Slowly slipped free.
And then he was still.
Thorin barrelled into Azog with a roar, tackling the white orc onto the ice.
Bilbo reached the edge of the ice and ran, eyes still fixed on Kili. He was floating near the other side, face down in the water.
Azog and Thorin had regained their feet, blades locked.
"Pull him out, lad!" A quick glance revealed Dwalin behind him, sinking an axe into an orc's shoulder, spinning to kick another.
Bilbo didn't wait to see more. He rounded the hole in the ice and fell to his knees, flinging Sting aside and thrusting his hands into the water.
The cold bit into his flesh with a thousand numbing teeth. The shock jolted through his arms to his chest but Bilbo ignored it, leaning forward to grasp at Kili.
His numbing hands grasped wet armour and slicked away. Wet locks curled around his fingers, and in desperation, Bilbo pulled.
Dwarves were heavy. Wet and armoured dwarves even more so. But hobbits, despite their soft appearance, were strong. And Bilbo's travels had hardened him, the countless repeated battles even more so. Slowly Bilbo was able to pull Kili's head from the water. And then, bracing against the ice, heave him up onto the edge.
Kili flopped lifelessly to the ice. Pale and lifeless, his brown eyes open and staring, a terrible look on his face.
Bilbo drew in a sobbing breath at the sight. He was too late. Too late.
A deep bellow had him look up in time to see Dwalin collapse to one knee. He swung around, taking out the orc that had felled him with a sweep of an axe. But it left him open to another orc who thrust a dark blade into his side.
Dwalin let out a roar of anger. Grasping the sword in his side, he turned on his attacker with an upward slash that took off the orc's arm.
Bilbo scrambled to his feet, shock making him sway. And then he was staggering towards Dwalin, Sting once more clasped in his hand.
An orc bearing a mace swung the weapon down towards Dwalin's head.
The dwarf barely blocked it, deflecting the weapon aside so it cut deep into the ice. The orc in reach, Dwalin punched it in the throat.
Only to let out a choked gasp as another orc's blade slid between his ribs.
With a snarl, Dwalin grasped the arm still holding the blade. He thrust a small dagger up into the orc's ribs.
Just before another orc cut off his head.
Sting sank deep into an orc's back. Cutting through flesh and deep into vital organs. As Bilbo jerked the sword loose, it grated on bone with a low scraping sound.
A blade impacted with his side but Bilbo simply twisted and ducked, cutting the orc's thigh to the bone. Blood jetted up from the wound and the orc fell back with a shriek like rusted metal.
He deflected another blow barely realizing he had lifted his arm. And then he was twisting, bending down into a crouch and springing up with Sting held in both hands.
Bilbo let the last orc fall from his sword, barely noticing.
He found himself staring at Dwalin.
What was left of Dwalin.
He simply stood there, orc blood dripping from Sting’s tip. An ever growing puddle on the ice.
It was a dark laugh that tore Bilbo from his stupor, turning his head to the source.
Azog stood close to Thorin, one hand grasping the dwarf's sword, the bare blade cutting his flesh. And his blade-
Azog pushed Thorin back, pulling his blade from Thorin's stomach.
Thorin fell. Sword falling from his grasp to land on the ice at his side.
Azog stood over him. His arm rose, blade poised to puncture through Thorin's chest.
The world hazed. Bilbo found himself running forward, Sting held low. Ice numbed his fast moving feet, frozen stone unyielding and sharp. Bilbo scrambled up onto a boulder and launched himself, Sting rising to stab-
He got one good blow. A deep tear across Azog's chest. And then the white orc was turning, his arm coming around like a massive white club.
Azog's blow flung him back, landing hard on the ice and Sting falling from his broken grasp.
The white orc loomed over him, the sword from a fallen orc held in his hand.
A brilliant gleam from the corner of his sight caught his attention. Sting.
Azog was striding over, leaving Thorin bloody on the ice.
"Bilbo." It was a soft cry, growing in urgency, Thorin's ragged voice a thin shout. "Bilbo! Run!"
Azog's mouth pulled up into a terrible smile.
Struggling to pull in a breath, Bilbo reached for the sword. If he could just grasp Sting. Bilbo stretched out his arm-
Only to let out a scream as Azog drove the sword down, through his forearm and into the ice. Pinned.
Sting beyond his reach.
So close. He had been so close. Squinting against the agony shooting up his arm, Bilbo fixed his gaze on Azog looming above him.
Panting against the pain, Bilbo met his pale eyes with a glare. He would kill Azog. If not today, then tomorrow. But he would kill him.
Azog seemed amused by his defiance. "Krampûrz glob." He lifted his blade.
And shot sideways as Thorin crashed into him, bearing the orc to the ice.
"Stay away from him." Thorin grated out the words, his large blood-specked hands tightening around the orc's neck. "You filth!"
Azog huffed out a laugh, a dark joy lighting his eyes. He lurched up, rolling to the side and taking Thorin with him.
They grappled. Thorin weakened by his wounds but determined to down his foe. Azog suddenly realizing the very real threat of his situation.
Bilbo watched, reaching for Sting, pulling against the blade that tore through his flesh. Not again. He couldn't see Thorin die again.
There was a sudden burst of movement. Azog surged to his feet, driving an elbow into Thorin's face.
His grip loosened and Thorin landed heavily onto the ice, staggering backward.
Azog followed him, catching Thorin with a back hand across the face. He caught the dwarf before he could fall backward.
Bilbo lunged, trying to pull himself free.
With a sneer, Azog drove his fist into Thorin's side.
"Thorin!"
Thorin fell. Crumpling to the ice.
Azog seized his bloodied hair and dragged him up with a sneer.
Thorin gasped, blood flecking his lips. One hand lifting toward Azog's as his other arm hung limp, trailing blood at his side.
"Thorin!" Bilbo's fingers tore and shredded as he scrabbled at the blade thrust through his arm. He could feel the blade sheering through flesh, grating bone as he tried to pull free, but he was stuck fast. Pinned and unable to do anything but watch. "Thorin!"
Thorin's eyes fixed on him, widening as he saw Bilbo struggling on the ice. "Bil-" He broke off with a gasp as Azog wrenched his head back, tearing open the wound in his side.
Bilbo watched in horror as blood started dripping, staining Thorin's clothes and sliding off his boots.
Azog glanced at Bilbo and a smile crossed his face. He bent down to speak directly into Thorin's ear. "Lozudurkh matlat."
His blade drew across Thorin's throat.
Thorin's body jerked, his eyes fluttering and face draining a chalky white as blood sprayed out in a vivid arc.
Azog smile grew vicious. He tightened his grip and slashed his blade again.
Thorin's body fell to the ground.
His head hung from Azog's fist. His white fingers twisted through Thorin's bloody hair.
"Thorin!" The scream ripped raw from Bilbo's throat.
Azog turned towards him eyes glittering. Still wearing a smile. He opened his hand, letting Thorin's head fall to the ground.
Like trash, Bilbo thought numbly. He stared at Thorin's bloody hair, a scarlet trailing lash in the snow.
"No!" The snarl tore from between Bilbo's lips, harsh and ugly. Eyes fixed on Azog, he strained towards Sting, just out of reach. Stretching his fingers towards the bright hilt.
Smile still curling his lips, Azog calmly strode towards him, Thorin in pieces behind him. His blade dripping Thorin's blood.
Bilbo lunged forward, clawing at the ground, desperate to clasp Sting and thrust it deep into Azog's throat-
Azog stood over him, impossibly tall. He was grinning as he thrust his blade into Bilbo's heart.
~x~X~x~
The stone was rough under his hands, cold and unwelcoming. Bilbo tightened his grasp on the rope and clawed his way up, weary in more than body. For a moment he hung on the lip of the wall, but with a wiggle, he shifted and slid forward to safety, falling heavily on his side.
For a long moment he just lay there, panting.
In Erebor. Once more.
Bilbo shakily lifted a hand to his mouth. Gasping jagged breaths as he fought to stave away tears of despair.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't see Thorin die again. Fili. Kili. Dwalin. He couldn't-
"Master Baggins."
Bilbo scrambled to his feet, wiping at his face.
Thorin stood in the shadows. Eyes pale in the poor light.
Bilbo found himself staring, voice gone.
"Why do you stand here in the dark?" A dark edge had entered Thorin's voice, a suspicion that Bilbo had heard before.
Thorin stepped closer, looming out of shadow. The fur on his coat harsh, the sword at his side an implacable line.
"Thorin-" Bilbo paused, eyes darting to the wall.
To the rope that still lay fastened there.
Thorin's eyes followed his gaze. And he stilled.
Terror shot through Bilbo's limbs, rooting him to the spot.
"Did you plan this all along?" Thorin's voice was dangerously level. He turned back to Bilbo, his eyes pale frost. "From the very beginning?"
Bilbo recoiled, stepping back and stumbling over rubble.
Thorin advanced, voice growing louder with every step. "Did you seek to betray me from the very start?" Fury burned in his eyes, his deep voice lashing fury. "To steal from me?!"
"No- Thorin." Bilbo hit the wall, unyielding stone at his back. His arms spread out, fruitlessly searching for escape.
There were voices. (Distant and too far away)
The Company alerted by Thorin's shouts.
Thorin drew his sword, the blade scraping free from its sheath. "Have you had it all this time?" It was a dark whisper.
His voice dried up. There were no excuses, no clear diversion he could voice. He had taken the Arkenstone. Stolen it and given it away.
Gotten them all killed.
Thorin read the answer on his face.
His face twisted in a snarl and Thorin's sword flashed up, biting fast and deep.
Slicing Bilbo open from throat to ear.
Bilbo crumpled to the ground, blood spilling and eyes fluttering shut as the red tide spurted out from under his chin.
Thorin was the last thing he saw. Standing tall, his sword dripping red from his blood. A bright spray painted in a scarlet arc across his face.
~x~X~x~
Bilbo jolted up with a cry, clutching at his chest.
"I said shut it!" There was a hard thud as a heavy boot kicked the door.
Bilbo thrust a fist in his mouth, biting down hard to smother his screams. A high, barely audible whimper leaked between his fingers.
Thorin. Thorin had-
There was another thud and the door rattled. "Don't make me come in there, you little midget!"
Bilbo bit down until blood streamed over his wrist and down his arm.
~x~X~x~
Bilbo froze on the wall. Suddenly aware that he was being watched.
Thorin slipped out of the shadows with the dark silence the madness had gifted him. His eyes were bright in the dim light, pale and fixed like a hunting warg. "Master Baggins." His voice was a low thrum.
Bilbo flinched, mouth collapsing with terror. "Thorin." He pulled a grimace of a smile together. Deliberately pulling at the end of his coat even as he stepped sideways.
Away from the coil of rope he'd hidden in terror once he had climbed the wall.
Thorin paced out into the open, eyes flicking down to Bilbo's hands. And pausing there.
Bilbo took a step back as Thorin suddenly stepped forward. Stumbling back to the wall, eyes widening in fear as Thorin loomed before him.
Bilbo glanced at the sword hilt held tightly in Thorin's grasp.
"Thorin." He had nowhere to go and tried to desperately deflect Thorin's attention. "Thor-" Only to gasp into silence as Thorin reached out.
His large hand closed around Bilbo's wrist. Lifting his hand so the bloodied cloth wrapped around his knuckles was more visible. Thorin's eyes narrowed, face closing down in sudden violent intent. "How came you by such injury?"
The rope was coiled behind a fallen block of stone. A curve of pale twisted fibres just visible above the jagged black edge.
Bilbo jerked his gaze back to Thorin who was looking up from the wrist held in his grasp.
Thorin's hand was huge. Enclosing Bilbo's wrist entirely, fingers overlapping.
It would be so easy for him to tighten his grasp, crush Bilbo's fragile flesh and bones.
"I- I was-" Bilbo sucked in an unsteady breath, "climbing-" He stumbled over his words "-exploring-" he backtracked, trying to gauge Thorin's expression.
"There was-" his lips trembled. Bilbo firmed his jaw, pretending he was only facing Thorin on of his stubborn moods. "I thought I saw something glinting-" He broke off as Thorin's grip shifted.
A finger gently stroking across the blood-damp strip Bilbo had fastened across his knuckles.
Thorin's eyes softened, losing their wild stare. He smiled, a small curve of lips. "Did I not say you should not work yourself, searching?" He leaned forward until their foreheads nearly touched, Bilbo's knuckles close to his lips. Thorin's long dark tresses fell forward, enclosing them both in a dark fall of silver-threaded night. When he spoke, Bilbo felt Thorin's words rumble through him, his warm breath gusting over bloodied bandages. "I will not have you come to harm, my burglar."
Bilbo's breath caught. He blinked, eyes filling and throat tight.
Thorin smiled. He pressed their foreheads together. Lips brushing Bilbo's knuckles.
And then he was straightening once more. Fingers releasing Bilbo's wrist with a gentle clasp that made a mockery of the phantom grasp that closed viciously tight around Bilbo's throat.
Thorin turned, heading back into the mountain.
"Come inside, Bilbo. Rest." A cold distance crept back into his eyes, a sneer into his voice. "The others will search until they find the Arkenstone."
Bilbo stumbled after him on shaky legs. Vision blurred with tears and biting his lip so hard it bled.
~x~X~x~
Thorin was still there under the gold sickness. He always managed to throw it off when battle was joined. It might be possible to bring him back before Dain arrived, turning the tide of the battle.
Bilbo ignored the small voice that pointed out none of his words had made a difference so far. That all his attempts had only made Thorin's reaction worse.
Bilbo ignored his doubts. He didn't want another battle on Ravenhill like the last.
~x~X~x~
"You carried it all this way?" Thorin is incredulous, that look of almost awe widening his face and softening his face.
Thorin had looked at him in exactly the same on the Carrock. Before clasping Bilbo close.
Forever staking a claim on Bilbo's heart.
"I was going to take it home to the Shire. To plant it in my garden." The Shire was a distant memory now. Far from madness and death. A memory and nothing more.
Thorin smiled down at him. Fond and as if Bilbo is more dear than gold and jewels.
It had been the only time Bilbo had seen Thorin close to regaining himself. Bilbo held the acorn tightly in his hand, shifting nervously. He only hoped that it would have the same result again.
He found Thorin near the throne. He was commonly found there, pacing slowly, surveying the wash of gold through the great hall. Watching the Company as they searched for the Arkenstone.
Thorin now stood at the edge of the platform holding the throne, heavy fur coat hanging from his shoulders and the crown resting abrupt on his brow.
Bilbo made his way across the hoard, carves aching at the effort to cross the shifting piles. When he finally reached the cold stone of the platform, it was a relief.
Thorin took note of his arrival with a slow sideways glance. And then he was staring out at the gold once more. Watching the Company search for the Arkenstone, sifting through golden coins and sorting jewellery and precious stones.
Bilbo watched Thorin. Saw the way he paced restlessly and gazed out upon the treasure. Eyes never still, searching for one white stone.
Bilbo took a step forward, feet scuffing the cold stone. "Thorin." Bilbo let a thread of urgency leak into his voice. "I need to speak to you."
Thorin glanced at him. And then out at the others, still searching. His eyes narrowed.
One large hand came to rest on Bilbo's shoulder and he found himself being steered away, back towards the throne. Out of the Company's hearing.
But not out of sight. Bilbo could see Balin had stopped working, straightening slowly to watch them. Nori had made his way closer, picking up a gem and holding it to the light. Dwalin scooped up handfuls of coins, flinging them aside. But his eyes were on Thorin and Bilbo.
Bilbo shifted, uncomfortable under their gazes. This was not-
He let out a breath, toes flexing on the stone. Then he nodded, hand reaching into his coat.
Thorin watched him, a look of puzzled suspicion narrowing his eyes. A look that melted away as he saw the object Bilbo retrieved.
Bilbo reached out and took Thorin's hand. Turned it palm up and pressed the acorn into Thorin's hand. "I want you to have it."
Thorin stared at him in shock, lips parted. As if the madness had fled entirely.
Bilbo willed it to be so.
He folded Thorin's fingers around the acorn, holding them closed with his own. He gazed into Thorin's eyes with desperate hope. "To plant it here at your home."
Thorin's expression was one Bilbo had never seen before. Struck to the heart and warm, a gaze Bilbo had only seen directed at his nephews.
Bilbo's heart leapt, hope a growing flare. Perhaps it was enough for Thorin to break free from the gold sickness-
There was a sliding clatter. A curse as Gloin's search dislodged a cascade of coins and plate.
Thorin's face shuttered at the loud noise. But as he turned, the acorn was still held tight in his grasp.
Bilbo's hope became a small steady flame.
~x~X~x~
Bilbo opened his eyes to a patchwork sky. Pale slashes of grey and white, bleached and unnatural.
The ring. He was still wearing it.
He had fallen before he could reach Ravenhill, he realized with horror as he scrambled painfully to his feet.
Thorin-
Bilbo started running, feet slipping on icy rock and snow. Who knew how long he had been lying unconscious on the path? Had Fili and Kili gone to scout the towers? Had Thorin already fought Azog?
Within minutes he had reached the summit. Bilbo pulled off the ring, looking wildly around him. There were no dwarves, only the corpses of orcs and goblins, smears of blood and rough prints in the snow.
Bilbo ran to the edge of the lookout, peering down at the ice below. There were orcs, fallen figures below. And two that were without the dark armour of Azog’s army.
Bilbo turned and ran, skidding over icy stone and churned snow. Uncaring of the danger, focused on reaching the ice below.
Bilbo skidded past the orcs, towards the two fallen fighters. One was Azog. The other-
Thorin lay on the ice, red staining white surface beneath him.
Bilbo fell to his knees at his side, fearing the worst. “Thorin!”
Thorin’s eyes opened, fixing on Bilbo. “Bilbo.” He managed a small smile. Thorin raised his hand and Bilbo seized it in his own, horror filling him at how cold it was.
Too late. He had come too late.
Bilbo’s throat closed, his eyes burning. “Thorin.”
Thorin’s other hand fumbled with his. Cold and clumsy. He pressed something small and round into Bilbo’s hand.
Tears streaked down Bilbo’s cheeks as he saw the acorn. His acorn had been what Thorin had been clutching so tightly as he lay dying on the ice.
“Forgive me.” Thorin fingers brushed over Bilbo’s. “For my blindness. My actions at the gate.”
“It is forgiven.” Bilbo choked out. Eyes fixed on Thorin’s face, unable to look away. “I never blamed you.”
Thorin smiled up at him, face pale and eyes half lidded but filled with warmth. “I never hoped to find more than the mountain.” His hands closed weakly around Bilbo’s, pressing the acorn firmly into his palm. “Loyalty. Honour.” He held Bilbo’s gaze, his smile beyond affection. “A treasure of more worth than gold and riches.”
Bilbo let out a sob, sliding down closer to Thorin’s side regardless of the ice. Pressing one of Thorin’s hands to his chest. Lifting the other to his lips.
Thorin turned his hand in Bilbo’s grasp, weakly cupping his face. “Plant your tree, my burglar. Read your books and sit in your armchair.”
Bilbo pressed Thorin’s hand closer to his face. Tears burning lines against Thorin’s cold fingers. “I would have planted it here.” He covered Thorin’s large fingers with his own as best as he could. “At the mountain with you.”
Thorin let out a breath, his eyes glossed with joy. “Bilbo.”
Bilbo bent forward, pressing their foreheads together, tears streaming down his face.
When he pulled away Thorin chest had stilled.
Bilbo let out a sob, burying his face in Thorin’s chest. Gripping tightly to the acorn in his hand.
~x~X~x~
Bilbo sat in silence, gaze fixed on the three tombs lit only by the flickering of the torch light.
There was feasting in the halls above, songs and drinking. Bilbo couldn't even bear the thought of it.
There was a scrape at his side, the scuff of metal on stone.
"There you are." Dain Ironfoot spoke cheerfully, the scent of ale on his breath as he sank down on the step next to Bilbo. "The Company's wee burglar."
Bilbo glanced at him, unable to tell if the dwarf was mocking him or not.
"Thorin spoke of you in his message." The dwarf lord continued in his lilting voice. "Said you were quick thinkin' in a tight spot." His eyes were sharp, too sharp for the hours of toasts he must have sat through.
Bilbo gazed at Thorin's tomb, feeling suddenly tired. Hollow. "It didn't help much in the end."
"Aye, Thorin was a stubborn bugger." He took a drink from his sloshing tankard. "As bad as badger and worse tempered!"
Bilbo turned to face him. A dwarven lord whose rough humour could not hide his love for his cousin. Nor the grief in his eyes.
"Could anything have changed his mind?" The words fell from Bilbo's tongue before he could stop them.
Dain leaned back with a sigh, gaze fixed on Thorin's tomb. He was silent for a long time before finally shaking his head. "No one was to know what would happen." He clapped Bilbo's shoulder, nearly pushing him over with the force of it. "You did your best."
The dwarven lord stood and made his way over to Thorin's tomb, laying a hand on his carven knee. "Rest well, cousin." He patted the stone and made his way out of the cavern, slightly unsteady on his feet.
Bilbo kept his eyes fixed on Thorin's tomb, tears blurring his vision. He had known. And he had still failed.
The torches were burning low when Bilbo finally struggled to his feet.
He brushed a hand over Fili's tomb in silent apology, hand shaking as he gave it a little pat. "I-" He cleared his throat. "Thank you for what you did at the gate. You will be a good king." He patted the stone again, eyes wet. "I won't be late next time."
Kili's tomb was next. A small stone rested on its top, a small round stone carved with dwarven runes. "You won’t have to fight so recklessly. I’ll make sure you come back to Tauriel."
Bilbo finally stopped at the side of Thorin's tomb. His mouth opened but no sound came out. Finally he reached into his pocket and pulled the out the acorn. He set it down on Thorin's tomb, fingers brushing cold stone as he left it.
"I will save you." He swallowed and pressed his hand to the stone. "Even if it costs me my life." Bilbo nodded to himself. Straightened his shoulders and turned resolutely away.
Weariness dragged at his body. He had been putting off resting. He didn't relish what awaited him when he woke up.
Bilbo drew up his shoulders, straightening in determination as he started up the torch lit stairs.
He knew what was coming. And he knew what to do.
~x~X~x~
Black Speech:
Rani Khozdil! – 'Dwarven king!'
Krampûrz glob – 'Loyal fool.'
Lozudurkh matlat – 'Finally, you die.'
Khuzdul:
Du Bekâr! - 'To arms!'
Imrid! – 'Die!'
~x~X~x~
On to Chapter Four
~x~X~x~
Author(s): Flakedice
Artist(s):
charlies_dragon, penumbria_fics and croix_souilleesFandom(s): The Hobbit
Type: Slash
Rating: Mature
Word Count/Art type: 44,550 words
Characters/Pairings: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Warnings/Spoilers: major character death, graphic violence, gore, torture, psychological torture, ptsd, (tiny bit of) self-harm, suicide (sort of), mental illness (Please highlight to read)
Summary: Bilbo wakes up in Dale. With the memory of a battle won but lives lost, he finds an army of Men and Elves readying to attack Erebor. Bilbo tries to save his dwarves. Again and again.
MANY PATHS
CHAPTER III
"Bilbo." Thorin stepped forward, a look of shocked surprise on his face.
Bilbo didn't stop running. He darted past Dwalin and grabbed Thorin's arm, pulling him forward. "It's a trap. We need to leave. Now!"
Kili and Fili exchanged glances. Shocked but galvanised by his words. Their hands went to their weapons, and they hurried back across the rock that separated them.
Dwalin stepped forward to block their path. "What do you mean, laddie?"
Bilbo resisted the urge to throw his hands in the air, tightening his grip on Thorin's arm instead. "Bolg is bringing another army from the north!" He gave Thorin a tug, steering him around Dwalin's stubborn bulk.
Thorin steps were slow but he was moving. He glanced up at Ravenhill's silent tower before glancing back at Bilbo's face.
Whatever he saw there had him nodding. He started moving faster until he was pulling Bilbo along. "We retreat. Quickly!"
With one last glance at the towers, Dwalin let out a frustrated noise. But he made no other protest, falling in behind Fili and Kili, pushing them forward with a hand to their shoulders.
They were nearly running as they retreated back down the stony path. Bilbo matched the dwarves' fast trot with dread filled speed. Bolg hadn't arrived with his army yet.
The question was why.
It became clear once they reached the plateau below.
The frozen river lay before them, a wide expanse of ice.
Bilbo faltered as he stepped on the cold icy sheet, memories of blood and snow. Of familiar dwarven bodies lying still on stone and ice. The eagles flying overhead as he sat at Thorin's side.
Thorin noticed his hesitation, and slowed. "Bilbo?"
Whatever answer Bilbo might have given died in his throat.
"Ambush!" Dwalin reacted first, pulling Fili back, urging Kili to do the same.
Bilbo pulled Sting from its sheath, the small sword emerging with a grim scrape.
Orcs had emerged from the tower, rising from behind boulders. An army of them.
"We fight to break free!" Thorin instructed, his own sword held in his hand. "We will live to fight another day."
Another day. Bilbo only had the time to draw in a shaky breath and then the orcs were running forward, their dark blades held high.
The line of orcs staggered as the dwarves met them with axe and sword. Orcs were flung back as they met Dwalin's axes and Thorin's sword. Others diverted in an attempt to flank them, only to meet Fili and Kili’s blades.
The battle was savagely fought, even as they fell back towards the path, a slow retreat across the ice. Bilbo shuddered with dread as his feet made contact with the frozen surface. Memories of previous fights across the ice had him lunge forward, stabbing with extra force at an orc drawing too close to Fili.
Orcs littered the snow, a growing pile of corpses beyond their defensive circle. They had traversed half-way across the frozen river when a harsh shout sounded out.
Bilbo slashed an orc across its face and whipped his head around.
Azog had arrived. The white orc stood on the rocky outcrop overlooking the ice. Even as Bilbo watched, he made a commanding gesture with his hand. There were more orcs at his back.
Reinforcements in sight, the orcs battling them renewed their efforts. They pressed forward, regardless of risk, intent on breaking through.
Thorin fought them off with renewed ferocity, Dwalin's axes a blur at his side. "Du Bekâr!!" Thorin roared out the words as he hammered an orc into the ice with so much force the surface beneath it cracked.
Fili and Kili let out answering cries, blades finding weak spots and smashing aside orcs into the paths of their comrades.
Bilbo did as much damage as he could, darting forward to help even the odds, aware that Azog was coming.
And come he did.
Another wave of orcs arrived, threatening to swamp them. But even as they were forced to give ground, Bilbo knew worse was to come.
Bilbo ducked an orc's sword swing, sliding between his legs and rising to slice across his spine. The move had separated him somewhat from Fili and Kili, and Bilbo stabbed at the orc which now separated him from the others.
Turned as he was, he had the perfect view of Kili, spinning around to cut down an orc that was trying to slip past him to Thorin and Dwalin. A blow that left him wide open to the other orc approaching his flank.
Kili wouldn't be able to deflect it. And Bilbo was too far away to save him-
In a move that was almost too fast to follow, Fili grasped his brother's arm and swung him out of the way.
The orc's blade slid through a gap in Fili’s armour, and punched right through him, emerging a bloody spike from his throat.
"Fili!" Kili screamed as he saw his brother, blood spraying from his mouth as his knees gave out.
Thorin's head snapped around, his eye widening in horror as he caught sight of his nephew.
Fili's mouth worked, only wet choked noises escaping, and then he was toppling forward onto the ice. His swords landing with sharp metallic sound, his body falling with a dull thud.
The weaponless orc behind him sneered, stepping forward-
Only to meet Kili's furious strike. The dwarven blade slicing up through his throat with such force that the orc's head was half severed.
With a yell of rage, Kili flung himself towards Azog, killing orcs and leaping from one shifting sheet of ice to the next.
"Kili!" It was Thorin, battling against the orcs that separated them.
But Kili ignored him, focused on avenging his brother.
Dwalin, seeing Kili's course, let out a curse even as more orcs took advantage of their broken defence.
With a sense of familiar horror, Bilbo realized none of them would be able to get to Kili in time.
Just as he’d had no chance to reach Fili.
Kili threw himself at Azog, sword colliding with the white's orc's blade. Bilbo saw him disengage and strike fast at Azog's unprotected side and then he had several orcs of his own to worry about.
A snarling orc lunged for him and Bilbo darted sideways. Pain burst across his shoulder as its sword caught him with a heavy blow. But Bilbo trusted the mithril armour, skittering back out of reach.
There was more than one orc. And Bilbo would have to get rid of them all. He could hear Kili's yells and Dwalin roaring in rage. Thorin was calling out in Khuzdul.
The ice below his feet gave Bilbo an idea. The risks were great but Bilbo ignored the small gibbering voice at the back of his mind and ran at the orcs.
The move took them by surprise. Bilbo was virtually unopposed as he dodged the first and then struck at the ice right behind him. He ran between the orcs, striking at the ice below their feet and then retreating, leaving them to the weakened ice.
It cracked. A soft snapping sound that grew louder as the orcs stilled, realizing the danger of their situation.
The ice cracked wider, splitting apart beneath the orcs as they tried to flee. Bilbo skittered back, lighter and able to reach more solid ice.
The orcs were not so lucky. Holes opened up beneath them, chunks of ice breaking free and dumping them into icy water. They struggled and clawed at the ice, heavy armour pulling them under.
It was horrible.
But Bilbo couldn’t regret it. He left the struggling orcs, running back to Thorin.
"Rani Khozdil!"
Bilbo froze, horror filling him at the sight of Azog standing in front of a hole in the ice before the tower. Holding a struggling Kili up by his hair.
Dwalin let out a roar of rage, laying into the orcs that lay between them. They fell, limbs sheared off and flesh torn open.
But Thorin was quicker. He cut an orc across its knees, slitting its throat as it fell into reach. With a yell, he barrelled into another orc, tossing it aside.
His gaze was on Kili twisting in Azog's grip.
With a dreadful smile, Azog knelt and thrust Kili under the icy water.
"Kili!" Thorin disembowelled an orc and thrust it aside.
Azog allowed his arm to flex, his hand still gripped tight in Kili's hair.
Kili clawed his way to the surface, gasping, hair plastered to his face. One hand clawed at Azog's arm while the other flailed in the water.
He was only able to draw in another breath and then he was being thrust into the water again.
"Bastard! Imrid!" Dwalin had half a dozen orcs around him but he wielded his axes as if he were trying to cut down a forest. There were countless orc corpses strewn over the ice, but Dwalin hadn't been able to break free of them.
Bilbo had started running without even realizing it. He skidded over the ice, leaping over fallen corpses. An orc appeared in front of him and Bilbo twisted past it, Sting slicing across its stomach.
Kili's arms thrashed in the water, great sprays jetting up with his struggles. But Azog held him, smiled as he held Kili under the icy water unable to breathe-
Kili was drowning. Kili was drowning in front of them-
"Kili!" Thorin yanked his sword free from the chest of an orc and ran forward. He was at the edge of the hole in the ice now and he put on a burst of speed.
Bilbo's eyes were fixed on Kili. His arms slowing, his struggles getting weaker. Slowing-
Azog drove his arm into the water, pushing Kili deeper. Kili's arms flailed, weakly plucked at Azog's arm. Slowly slipped free.
And then he was still.
Thorin barrelled into Azog with a roar, tackling the white orc onto the ice.
Bilbo reached the edge of the ice and ran, eyes still fixed on Kili. He was floating near the other side, face down in the water.
Azog and Thorin had regained their feet, blades locked.
"Pull him out, lad!" A quick glance revealed Dwalin behind him, sinking an axe into an orc's shoulder, spinning to kick another.
Bilbo didn't wait to see more. He rounded the hole in the ice and fell to his knees, flinging Sting aside and thrusting his hands into the water.
The cold bit into his flesh with a thousand numbing teeth. The shock jolted through his arms to his chest but Bilbo ignored it, leaning forward to grasp at Kili.
His numbing hands grasped wet armour and slicked away. Wet locks curled around his fingers, and in desperation, Bilbo pulled.
Dwarves were heavy. Wet and armoured dwarves even more so. But hobbits, despite their soft appearance, were strong. And Bilbo's travels had hardened him, the countless repeated battles even more so. Slowly Bilbo was able to pull Kili's head from the water. And then, bracing against the ice, heave him up onto the edge.
Kili flopped lifelessly to the ice. Pale and lifeless, his brown eyes open and staring, a terrible look on his face.
Bilbo drew in a sobbing breath at the sight. He was too late. Too late.
A deep bellow had him look up in time to see Dwalin collapse to one knee. He swung around, taking out the orc that had felled him with a sweep of an axe. But it left him open to another orc who thrust a dark blade into his side.
Dwalin let out a roar of anger. Grasping the sword in his side, he turned on his attacker with an upward slash that took off the orc's arm.
Bilbo scrambled to his feet, shock making him sway. And then he was staggering towards Dwalin, Sting once more clasped in his hand.
An orc bearing a mace swung the weapon down towards Dwalin's head.
The dwarf barely blocked it, deflecting the weapon aside so it cut deep into the ice. The orc in reach, Dwalin punched it in the throat.
Only to let out a choked gasp as another orc's blade slid between his ribs.
With a snarl, Dwalin grasped the arm still holding the blade. He thrust a small dagger up into the orc's ribs.
Just before another orc cut off his head.
Sting sank deep into an orc's back. Cutting through flesh and deep into vital organs. As Bilbo jerked the sword loose, it grated on bone with a low scraping sound.
A blade impacted with his side but Bilbo simply twisted and ducked, cutting the orc's thigh to the bone. Blood jetted up from the wound and the orc fell back with a shriek like rusted metal.
He deflected another blow barely realizing he had lifted his arm. And then he was twisting, bending down into a crouch and springing up with Sting held in both hands.
Bilbo let the last orc fall from his sword, barely noticing.
He found himself staring at Dwalin.
What was left of Dwalin.
He simply stood there, orc blood dripping from Sting’s tip. An ever growing puddle on the ice.
It was a dark laugh that tore Bilbo from his stupor, turning his head to the source.
Azog stood close to Thorin, one hand grasping the dwarf's sword, the bare blade cutting his flesh. And his blade-
Azog pushed Thorin back, pulling his blade from Thorin's stomach.
Thorin fell. Sword falling from his grasp to land on the ice at his side.
Azog stood over him. His arm rose, blade poised to puncture through Thorin's chest.
The world hazed. Bilbo found himself running forward, Sting held low. Ice numbed his fast moving feet, frozen stone unyielding and sharp. Bilbo scrambled up onto a boulder and launched himself, Sting rising to stab-
He got one good blow. A deep tear across Azog's chest. And then the white orc was turning, his arm coming around like a massive white club.
Azog's blow flung him back, landing hard on the ice and Sting falling from his broken grasp.
The white orc loomed over him, the sword from a fallen orc held in his hand.
A brilliant gleam from the corner of his sight caught his attention. Sting.
Azog was striding over, leaving Thorin bloody on the ice.
"Bilbo." It was a soft cry, growing in urgency, Thorin's ragged voice a thin shout. "Bilbo! Run!"
Azog's mouth pulled up into a terrible smile.
Struggling to pull in a breath, Bilbo reached for the sword. If he could just grasp Sting. Bilbo stretched out his arm-
Only to let out a scream as Azog drove the sword down, through his forearm and into the ice. Pinned.
Sting beyond his reach.
So close. He had been so close. Squinting against the agony shooting up his arm, Bilbo fixed his gaze on Azog looming above him.
Panting against the pain, Bilbo met his pale eyes with a glare. He would kill Azog. If not today, then tomorrow. But he would kill him.
Azog seemed amused by his defiance. "Krampûrz glob." He lifted his blade.
And shot sideways as Thorin crashed into him, bearing the orc to the ice.
"Stay away from him." Thorin grated out the words, his large blood-specked hands tightening around the orc's neck. "You filth!"
Azog huffed out a laugh, a dark joy lighting his eyes. He lurched up, rolling to the side and taking Thorin with him.
They grappled. Thorin weakened by his wounds but determined to down his foe. Azog suddenly realizing the very real threat of his situation.
Bilbo watched, reaching for Sting, pulling against the blade that tore through his flesh. Not again. He couldn't see Thorin die again.
There was a sudden burst of movement. Azog surged to his feet, driving an elbow into Thorin's face.
His grip loosened and Thorin landed heavily onto the ice, staggering backward.
Azog followed him, catching Thorin with a back hand across the face. He caught the dwarf before he could fall backward.
Bilbo lunged, trying to pull himself free.
With a sneer, Azog drove his fist into Thorin's side.
"Thorin!"
Thorin fell. Crumpling to the ice.
Azog seized his bloodied hair and dragged him up with a sneer.
Thorin gasped, blood flecking his lips. One hand lifting toward Azog's as his other arm hung limp, trailing blood at his side.
"Thorin!" Bilbo's fingers tore and shredded as he scrabbled at the blade thrust through his arm. He could feel the blade sheering through flesh, grating bone as he tried to pull free, but he was stuck fast. Pinned and unable to do anything but watch. "Thorin!"
Thorin's eyes fixed on him, widening as he saw Bilbo struggling on the ice. "Bil-" He broke off with a gasp as Azog wrenched his head back, tearing open the wound in his side.
Bilbo watched in horror as blood started dripping, staining Thorin's clothes and sliding off his boots.
Azog glanced at Bilbo and a smile crossed his face. He bent down to speak directly into Thorin's ear. "Lozudurkh matlat."
His blade drew across Thorin's throat.
Thorin's body jerked, his eyes fluttering and face draining a chalky white as blood sprayed out in a vivid arc.
Azog smile grew vicious. He tightened his grip and slashed his blade again.
Thorin's body fell to the ground.
His head hung from Azog's fist. His white fingers twisted through Thorin's bloody hair.
"Thorin!" The scream ripped raw from Bilbo's throat.
Azog turned towards him eyes glittering. Still wearing a smile. He opened his hand, letting Thorin's head fall to the ground.
Like trash, Bilbo thought numbly. He stared at Thorin's bloody hair, a scarlet trailing lash in the snow.
"No!" The snarl tore from between Bilbo's lips, harsh and ugly. Eyes fixed on Azog, he strained towards Sting, just out of reach. Stretching his fingers towards the bright hilt.
Smile still curling his lips, Azog calmly strode towards him, Thorin in pieces behind him. His blade dripping Thorin's blood.
Bilbo lunged forward, clawing at the ground, desperate to clasp Sting and thrust it deep into Azog's throat-
Azog stood over him, impossibly tall. He was grinning as he thrust his blade into Bilbo's heart.
The stone was rough under his hands, cold and unwelcoming. Bilbo tightened his grasp on the rope and clawed his way up, weary in more than body. For a moment he hung on the lip of the wall, but with a wiggle, he shifted and slid forward to safety, falling heavily on his side.
For a long moment he just lay there, panting.
In Erebor. Once more.
Bilbo shakily lifted a hand to his mouth. Gasping jagged breaths as he fought to stave away tears of despair.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't see Thorin die again. Fili. Kili. Dwalin. He couldn't-
"Master Baggins."
Bilbo scrambled to his feet, wiping at his face.
Thorin stood in the shadows. Eyes pale in the poor light.
Bilbo found himself staring, voice gone.
"Why do you stand here in the dark?" A dark edge had entered Thorin's voice, a suspicion that Bilbo had heard before.
Thorin stepped closer, looming out of shadow. The fur on his coat harsh, the sword at his side an implacable line.
"Thorin-" Bilbo paused, eyes darting to the wall.
To the rope that still lay fastened there.
Thorin's eyes followed his gaze. And he stilled.
Terror shot through Bilbo's limbs, rooting him to the spot.
"Did you plan this all along?" Thorin's voice was dangerously level. He turned back to Bilbo, his eyes pale frost. "From the very beginning?"
Bilbo recoiled, stepping back and stumbling over rubble.
Thorin advanced, voice growing louder with every step. "Did you seek to betray me from the very start?" Fury burned in his eyes, his deep voice lashing fury. "To steal from me?!"
"No- Thorin." Bilbo hit the wall, unyielding stone at his back. His arms spread out, fruitlessly searching for escape.
There were voices. (Distant and too far away)
The Company alerted by Thorin's shouts.
Thorin drew his sword, the blade scraping free from its sheath. "Have you had it all this time?" It was a dark whisper.
His voice dried up. There were no excuses, no clear diversion he could voice. He had taken the Arkenstone. Stolen it and given it away.
Gotten them all killed.
Thorin read the answer on his face.
His face twisted in a snarl and Thorin's sword flashed up, biting fast and deep.
Slicing Bilbo open from throat to ear.
Bilbo crumpled to the ground, blood spilling and eyes fluttering shut as the red tide spurted out from under his chin.
Thorin was the last thing he saw. Standing tall, his sword dripping red from his blood. A bright spray painted in a scarlet arc across his face.
Bilbo jolted up with a cry, clutching at his chest.
"I said shut it!" There was a hard thud as a heavy boot kicked the door.
Bilbo thrust a fist in his mouth, biting down hard to smother his screams. A high, barely audible whimper leaked between his fingers.
Thorin. Thorin had-
There was another thud and the door rattled. "Don't make me come in there, you little midget!"
Bilbo bit down until blood streamed over his wrist and down his arm.
Bilbo froze on the wall. Suddenly aware that he was being watched.
Thorin slipped out of the shadows with the dark silence the madness had gifted him. His eyes were bright in the dim light, pale and fixed like a hunting warg. "Master Baggins." His voice was a low thrum.
Bilbo flinched, mouth collapsing with terror. "Thorin." He pulled a grimace of a smile together. Deliberately pulling at the end of his coat even as he stepped sideways.
Away from the coil of rope he'd hidden in terror once he had climbed the wall.
Thorin paced out into the open, eyes flicking down to Bilbo's hands. And pausing there.
Bilbo took a step back as Thorin suddenly stepped forward. Stumbling back to the wall, eyes widening in fear as Thorin loomed before him.
Bilbo glanced at the sword hilt held tightly in Thorin's grasp.
"Thorin." He had nowhere to go and tried to desperately deflect Thorin's attention. "Thor-" Only to gasp into silence as Thorin reached out.
His large hand closed around Bilbo's wrist. Lifting his hand so the bloodied cloth wrapped around his knuckles was more visible. Thorin's eyes narrowed, face closing down in sudden violent intent. "How came you by such injury?"
The rope was coiled behind a fallen block of stone. A curve of pale twisted fibres just visible above the jagged black edge.
Bilbo jerked his gaze back to Thorin who was looking up from the wrist held in his grasp.
Thorin's hand was huge. Enclosing Bilbo's wrist entirely, fingers overlapping.
It would be so easy for him to tighten his grasp, crush Bilbo's fragile flesh and bones.
"I- I was-" Bilbo sucked in an unsteady breath, "climbing-" He stumbled over his words "-exploring-" he backtracked, trying to gauge Thorin's expression.
"There was-" his lips trembled. Bilbo firmed his jaw, pretending he was only facing Thorin on of his stubborn moods. "I thought I saw something glinting-" He broke off as Thorin's grip shifted.
A finger gently stroking across the blood-damp strip Bilbo had fastened across his knuckles.
Thorin's eyes softened, losing their wild stare. He smiled, a small curve of lips. "Did I not say you should not work yourself, searching?" He leaned forward until their foreheads nearly touched, Bilbo's knuckles close to his lips. Thorin's long dark tresses fell forward, enclosing them both in a dark fall of silver-threaded night. When he spoke, Bilbo felt Thorin's words rumble through him, his warm breath gusting over bloodied bandages. "I will not have you come to harm, my burglar."
Bilbo's breath caught. He blinked, eyes filling and throat tight.
Thorin smiled. He pressed their foreheads together. Lips brushing Bilbo's knuckles.
And then he was straightening once more. Fingers releasing Bilbo's wrist with a gentle clasp that made a mockery of the phantom grasp that closed viciously tight around Bilbo's throat.
Thorin turned, heading back into the mountain.
"Come inside, Bilbo. Rest." A cold distance crept back into his eyes, a sneer into his voice. "The others will search until they find the Arkenstone."
Bilbo stumbled after him on shaky legs. Vision blurred with tears and biting his lip so hard it bled.
Thorin was still there under the gold sickness. He always managed to throw it off when battle was joined. It might be possible to bring him back before Dain arrived, turning the tide of the battle.
Bilbo ignored the small voice that pointed out none of his words had made a difference so far. That all his attempts had only made Thorin's reaction worse.
Bilbo ignored his doubts. He didn't want another battle on Ravenhill like the last.
"You carried it all this way?" Thorin is incredulous, that look of almost awe widening his face and softening his face.
Thorin had looked at him in exactly the same on the Carrock. Before clasping Bilbo close.
Forever staking a claim on Bilbo's heart.
"I was going to take it home to the Shire. To plant it in my garden." The Shire was a distant memory now. Far from madness and death. A memory and nothing more.
Thorin smiled down at him. Fond and as if Bilbo is more dear than gold and jewels.
It had been the only time Bilbo had seen Thorin close to regaining himself. Bilbo held the acorn tightly in his hand, shifting nervously. He only hoped that it would have the same result again.
He found Thorin near the throne. He was commonly found there, pacing slowly, surveying the wash of gold through the great hall. Watching the Company as they searched for the Arkenstone.
Thorin now stood at the edge of the platform holding the throne, heavy fur coat hanging from his shoulders and the crown resting abrupt on his brow.
Bilbo made his way across the hoard, carves aching at the effort to cross the shifting piles. When he finally reached the cold stone of the platform, it was a relief.
Thorin took note of his arrival with a slow sideways glance. And then he was staring out at the gold once more. Watching the Company search for the Arkenstone, sifting through golden coins and sorting jewellery and precious stones.
Bilbo watched Thorin. Saw the way he paced restlessly and gazed out upon the treasure. Eyes never still, searching for one white stone.
Bilbo took a step forward, feet scuffing the cold stone. "Thorin." Bilbo let a thread of urgency leak into his voice. "I need to speak to you."
Thorin glanced at him. And then out at the others, still searching. His eyes narrowed.
One large hand came to rest on Bilbo's shoulder and he found himself being steered away, back towards the throne. Out of the Company's hearing.
But not out of sight. Bilbo could see Balin had stopped working, straightening slowly to watch them. Nori had made his way closer, picking up a gem and holding it to the light. Dwalin scooped up handfuls of coins, flinging them aside. But his eyes were on Thorin and Bilbo.
Bilbo shifted, uncomfortable under their gazes. This was not-
He let out a breath, toes flexing on the stone. Then he nodded, hand reaching into his coat.
Thorin watched him, a look of puzzled suspicion narrowing his eyes. A look that melted away as he saw the object Bilbo retrieved.
Bilbo reached out and took Thorin's hand. Turned it palm up and pressed the acorn into Thorin's hand. "I want you to have it."
Thorin stared at him in shock, lips parted. As if the madness had fled entirely.
Bilbo willed it to be so.
He folded Thorin's fingers around the acorn, holding them closed with his own. He gazed into Thorin's eyes with desperate hope. "To plant it here at your home."
Thorin's expression was one Bilbo had never seen before. Struck to the heart and warm, a gaze Bilbo had only seen directed at his nephews.
Bilbo's heart leapt, hope a growing flare. Perhaps it was enough for Thorin to break free from the gold sickness-
There was a sliding clatter. A curse as Gloin's search dislodged a cascade of coins and plate.
Thorin's face shuttered at the loud noise. But as he turned, the acorn was still held tight in his grasp.
Bilbo's hope became a small steady flame.
Bilbo opened his eyes to a patchwork sky. Pale slashes of grey and white, bleached and unnatural.
The ring. He was still wearing it.
He had fallen before he could reach Ravenhill, he realized with horror as he scrambled painfully to his feet.
Thorin-
Bilbo started running, feet slipping on icy rock and snow. Who knew how long he had been lying unconscious on the path? Had Fili and Kili gone to scout the towers? Had Thorin already fought Azog?
Within minutes he had reached the summit. Bilbo pulled off the ring, looking wildly around him. There were no dwarves, only the corpses of orcs and goblins, smears of blood and rough prints in the snow.
Bilbo ran to the edge of the lookout, peering down at the ice below. There were orcs, fallen figures below. And two that were without the dark armour of Azog’s army.
Bilbo turned and ran, skidding over icy stone and churned snow. Uncaring of the danger, focused on reaching the ice below.
Bilbo skidded past the orcs, towards the two fallen fighters. One was Azog. The other-
Thorin lay on the ice, red staining white surface beneath him.
Bilbo fell to his knees at his side, fearing the worst. “Thorin!”
Thorin’s eyes opened, fixing on Bilbo. “Bilbo.” He managed a small smile. Thorin raised his hand and Bilbo seized it in his own, horror filling him at how cold it was.
Too late. He had come too late.
Bilbo’s throat closed, his eyes burning. “Thorin.”
Thorin’s other hand fumbled with his. Cold and clumsy. He pressed something small and round into Bilbo’s hand.
Tears streaked down Bilbo’s cheeks as he saw the acorn. His acorn had been what Thorin had been clutching so tightly as he lay dying on the ice.
“Forgive me.” Thorin fingers brushed over Bilbo’s. “For my blindness. My actions at the gate.”
“It is forgiven.” Bilbo choked out. Eyes fixed on Thorin’s face, unable to look away. “I never blamed you.”
Thorin smiled up at him, face pale and eyes half lidded but filled with warmth. “I never hoped to find more than the mountain.” His hands closed weakly around Bilbo’s, pressing the acorn firmly into his palm. “Loyalty. Honour.” He held Bilbo’s gaze, his smile beyond affection. “A treasure of more worth than gold and riches.”
Bilbo let out a sob, sliding down closer to Thorin’s side regardless of the ice. Pressing one of Thorin’s hands to his chest. Lifting the other to his lips.
Thorin turned his hand in Bilbo’s grasp, weakly cupping his face. “Plant your tree, my burglar. Read your books and sit in your armchair.”
Bilbo pressed Thorin’s hand closer to his face. Tears burning lines against Thorin’s cold fingers. “I would have planted it here.” He covered Thorin’s large fingers with his own as best as he could. “At the mountain with you.”
Thorin let out a breath, his eyes glossed with joy. “Bilbo.”
Bilbo bent forward, pressing their foreheads together, tears streaming down his face.
When he pulled away Thorin chest had stilled.
Bilbo let out a sob, burying his face in Thorin’s chest. Gripping tightly to the acorn in his hand.
Bilbo sat in silence, gaze fixed on the three tombs lit only by the flickering of the torch light.
There was feasting in the halls above, songs and drinking. Bilbo couldn't even bear the thought of it.
There was a scrape at his side, the scuff of metal on stone.
"There you are." Dain Ironfoot spoke cheerfully, the scent of ale on his breath as he sank down on the step next to Bilbo. "The Company's wee burglar."
Bilbo glanced at him, unable to tell if the dwarf was mocking him or not.
"Thorin spoke of you in his message." The dwarf lord continued in his lilting voice. "Said you were quick thinkin' in a tight spot." His eyes were sharp, too sharp for the hours of toasts he must have sat through.
Bilbo gazed at Thorin's tomb, feeling suddenly tired. Hollow. "It didn't help much in the end."
"Aye, Thorin was a stubborn bugger." He took a drink from his sloshing tankard. "As bad as badger and worse tempered!"
Bilbo turned to face him. A dwarven lord whose rough humour could not hide his love for his cousin. Nor the grief in his eyes.
"Could anything have changed his mind?" The words fell from Bilbo's tongue before he could stop them.
Dain leaned back with a sigh, gaze fixed on Thorin's tomb. He was silent for a long time before finally shaking his head. "No one was to know what would happen." He clapped Bilbo's shoulder, nearly pushing him over with the force of it. "You did your best."
The dwarven lord stood and made his way over to Thorin's tomb, laying a hand on his carven knee. "Rest well, cousin." He patted the stone and made his way out of the cavern, slightly unsteady on his feet.
Bilbo kept his eyes fixed on Thorin's tomb, tears blurring his vision. He had known. And he had still failed.
The torches were burning low when Bilbo finally struggled to his feet.
He brushed a hand over Fili's tomb in silent apology, hand shaking as he gave it a little pat. "I-" He cleared his throat. "Thank you for what you did at the gate. You will be a good king." He patted the stone again, eyes wet. "I won't be late next time."
Kili's tomb was next. A small stone rested on its top, a small round stone carved with dwarven runes. "You won’t have to fight so recklessly. I’ll make sure you come back to Tauriel."
Bilbo finally stopped at the side of Thorin's tomb. His mouth opened but no sound came out. Finally he reached into his pocket and pulled the out the acorn. He set it down on Thorin's tomb, fingers brushing cold stone as he left it.
"I will save you." He swallowed and pressed his hand to the stone. "Even if it costs me my life." Bilbo nodded to himself. Straightened his shoulders and turned resolutely away.
Weariness dragged at his body. He had been putting off resting. He didn't relish what awaited him when he woke up.
Bilbo drew up his shoulders, straightening in determination as he started up the torch lit stairs.
He knew what was coming. And he knew what to do.
~x~X~x~
Black Speech:
Rani Khozdil! – 'Dwarven king!'
Krampûrz glob – 'Loyal fool.'
Lozudurkh matlat – 'Finally, you die.'
Khuzdul:
Du Bekâr! - 'To arms!'
Imrid! – 'Die!'
~x~X~x~
On to Chapter Four
~x~X~x~
