Many Paths: Chapter Five

[flakedice]

Title: Many Paths (5 of 10)
Author(s): Flakedice
Artist(s): 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

CHAPTER V

"You have already made your trade, Halfling." Thranduil spoke with annoyance barely hidden behind courtesy, his mouth pulled tight in mockery.

"I've come to bargain for the Arkenstone's return." Bilbo had just managed to escape the mountain unseen and he was in no mood for Thranduil's disdain.

"At Oakenshield's request, or your own?" The elven king lifted his brow exchanging an amused look with Bard. "As gratifying as your eagerness to demonstrate your loyalty for your friends is, I can't see anything here that I would trade for the Arkenstone-"

Bilbo pulled the pouch from his coat and tossed it to the table, white stones spilling forth and lighting the tent.

Thranduil stood from his chair, eyes wide and one hand already reaching forward.

"Your white stones for the Arkenstone." Bilbo glanced at Bard, who had lost all trace of amusement. He was staring at Thranduil with sudden worry.

"For the people of Lake-town-" Bilbo tossed a small pouch at Bard which the archer caught easily. "A down payment for Thorin's pledge."

Bard opened the pouch, spilling the hundreds of small gems Bilbo had gathered into one hasty hand. He looked at Bilbo with a mix of wonder and grim realization. "Thorin Oakenshield will not part willingly with his gold."

"And so I will give you mine. That is a small part of my share. Enough to provide shelter and start the rebuilding of Dale." Bilbo held the man's gaze, willing him to accept reason. "The rest I will give to you when the mountain is no longer under siege." He would smuggle it out a handful at a time if he had to.

Bard glanced at Thranduil.

The elven king had opened the pouch wide to reveal a shining white necklace and its bed of starlight stones. "Hand over the Arkenstone." His gaze was fixed on the gems.

Bard cast him a dubious look, then glanced back at the gems in his palm. He poured them back into the pouch and then reached into his shirt.

Bilbo let out a breath, refusing to let his shoulders sag.

Bard unwrapped the bundle he retrieved, showing the unmistakable glow of the stone within before wrapping it again. He held out the Arkenstone.

Bilbo reached out to take it, fingers closing over the wrapped stone.

Bard held onto it, meeting Bilbo's gaze. "You have kept your word and I believe you will do as you say. But I do not think Thorin Oakenshield will willingly part with any gold." His eyes darkened. "Not even to you."

Bilbo tightened his grip on the Arkenstone, pulling it from Bard’s grip. “You will have your gold, even so.” If it came to that. Their survival was doubtful.

Bilbo tucked the Arkenstone into his coat. "And so we are agreed.” Bilbo glanced from Bard to Thranduil. “You will not bring your armies against the mountain."

Thranduil inclined his head with a curve to his lips that could not be called a smile. He scooped the gems off the table, pouring them back into the pouch, tying it shut.

He stood, gesturing to his guards. They entered the tent, heading towards the bedding in the corner. Starting to fold and pack.

Bilbo stood aside automatically, even as he gave the elven king a sharp stare.

Thranduil fixed him with a cold look. "I've reclaimed what I came for. There is no reason to stay here any longer."

Bard moved to stand in front of him, blocking his way. "You would leave in the dead of night? Leaving us here?"

Thranduil stared down at him, gaze chill. "I told you, Bard Bowman. I did not come to give you aid."

"You can't just leave." Bilbo flung his hand out to the north. "There's an army of orcs-"

"Yes, I've heard Mithrandir's gloomy predictions." Thranduil cut him off. "And place little stock in them."

He gestured and two of the guards stationed outside the tent entered, taking up positions next to Bard and Bilbo. "Our business is concluded."

Exchanging a worried glance with Bard, Bilbo let himself be escorted out of the tent.

This wasn't how it was meant to happen.

~x~X~x~

Bilbo climbed up the wall and painstakingly pulled himself over the top. It was not the first time he had climbed it this night and he was tired.

Tired. But he had the Arkenstone.

Bilbo coiled up the rope and hid it behind a fallen stone. Not willing to be exposed, he ducked into one of the tunnels leading off the balcony, wedging himself into a small nook he had found.

Bilbo retrieved the stone from his coat, pulling it free of the cloth that wrapped it. The blue-white light of the mountain's heart spilled out around his fingers. Bilbo stared into its depths, gazing at the strange mix of colours at its heart.

It was beautiful. But beautiful enough to drive someone mad?

Should he give it to Thorin? Would it corrupt him as Smaug had promised?

Could he afford not to make the attempt?

Bilbo wrapped the stone and tucked it away again. He closed his eyes and leant his head back against the cold stone. At this point he was willing to try anything if it meant Thorin would not die before him.

There was a soft scrape.

Bilbo's eyes flew open. Thorin stood several steps down the corridor, just inside one of the archways that marked a side tunnel. His face was in shadow but Bilbo could feel Thorin's gaze on him.

Heart beating hard enough to choke him, Bilbo scrambled to his feet. Had Thorin seen the Arkenstone? How long had he been standing there, watching?

"I could not find you." Thorin's voice was soft but it echoed perfectly down the corridor to Bilbo's ears. Growing louder as Thorin approached.

Bilbo's heart was suddenly beating at a frightened, speedy thrum. "I needed some air."

Thorin was in front of him now, face half in shadow, half a blank mask. "How long have you had it?"

Bilbo could feel the blood drain from his face. "Thorin-"

"Did you have it when you stood at my side?" A hint of roughness entered Thorin's deadly quiet voice. "When my kin searched without rest?"

He pressed close, backing Bilbo against the wall. "When did you betray me?"

The ring was in his pocket, a beckoning escape.

Thorin's hand closed around Bilbo's throat pinning him to the wall. "You will not betray me again."

~x~x~x~

He couldn't simply trade for the Arkenstone, Bilbo realized. They needed Thranduil's army and only the white gems would convince him to stay. And there was nothing else he could trade to get the Arkenstone back.

He needed to steal it.

Bilbo crept towards the elven tents, ring on his finger. At night, the torches were flickering embers burning like gold eyes, the tents a pale blur. The elves that patrolled the area were pale and sharp, like thin shards of ice.

He had found that it was not Thranduil who held the Arkenstone but Bard. Stealing from Thranduil's war tent was almost impossible. But taking the Arkenstone back from Bard...

Bard had taken up shelter in one of the ruined houses of Dale. But to reach Bard's temporary house, Bilbo needed to get past the elves.

Which, Bilbo had found out, was not easy, even invisible as he was.

Mirkwood was the elves' home, their own defended keep. Here in the ruins of Dale, prepared for war on the morrow, the elves were much more alert. Actively looking for intruders and the smallest sign of attack.

Bilbo kept to the shadows. Slowly edging along the crumbling buildings that lined the square Thranduil had filled with his tents.

Several times an elven sentry walked close, steps slowing as they searched the area.

Bilbo stood still, holding his breath as the pale elves drew close, forms blurred and bright. Only when the sentries moved on did he start forward again, placing each foot carefully and silently.

He was close to Thranduil's tent when he made a mistake.

Bilbo stumbled. The rubble of a fallen tile shifting under his foot.

Quick as thought, one of the elves set an arrow to his bow.

The arrow flew through the night, a dark splinter.

Swift and accurate.

~x~X~x~

Elven senses are keen.

Even invisible, they stalk him down.

But Bilbo has time and death never lasts. He manages in the end.

~x~x~x~

Thorin's roar could be heard throughout the mountain, a mighty bellow of triumph. It sent a shard of fear into Bilbo's heart.

The sound was a mocking shadow of Thorin's joy at finding the hidden door, both gloating and possessive, a dark triumph that suited Thorin ill.

Bilbo watched from his perch on one of the many walkways above the treasury. Watched as Thorin lifted the Arkenstone far above his head, its blue-white light washing over him, casting his face to crueller lines, the crown on his head to icy sharp points.

The rest of the Company had gathered round and slowly they sunk to their knees in gold, one by one.

Bilbo slipped away, unable to watch any more.

~x~X~x~

It was Fili who found him. Bilbo looked up at the heavy tread of armoured dwarven footsteps, wary and resigned.

"Thorin is looking for you." Fili's expression held an echo of the fear held in Bilbo's heart. And the grim resolve that he had held since entering the mountain.

Bilbo looked up from the acorn held in his palm. If time flowed correctly it would be worn smooth from the thousands of hours he had held it tight.

"Is he worse?" It had been hard to tell from his distant perch. The fixation of gold replaced with that of a single stone.

Fili didn't answer but his expression was answer enough.

Bilbo nodded to himself, a sad sag of his head. "Balin was right, then." He had hoped despite the fear in his heart. Hoped that they had both been wrong. That Smaug's words had been joyful lies with no truth but the intent to drive a wedge between Thorin and himself.

Your life is worth nothing!

"Balin?" Fili was frowning.

"I asked if having the Arkenstone would help." It had been worth an attempt. They might have both been wrong. Thorin might have broken free of the gold sickness once he had found what he sought.

A shadow dimmed Fili's eyes. "Did you have it all this time?"

Bilbo stood, slowly brushing off his pants, uselessly trying to rid himself of the dust he had accumulated. "It matters little now." He had given the Arkenstone to Thorin and there was no taking it back.

~x~X~x~

The Arkenstone had been placed on the throne of Durin, brilliant and coldly beautiful. And sitting below it, bathed in the Arkenstone's light sat Thorin, his once warm eyes cold and distant, a small cruel smile adorning his lips. His smile widened, glee lighting his gaze as Bilbo approached. "Behold the Arkenstone, Heart of the Mountain."

Bilbo drew in a breath, steadying himself. "Then you have accomplished all you set out to do, Thorin son of Thrain, son of Thror." He met Thorin's gaze, hands fisted in his ragged coat to hide his shaking hands. "What do you intend to do now, King Under the Mountain?"

Thorin's gaze darkened.

"The armies of the woodland elves and Lake-town lie outside your gates." Bilbo ignored Balin's shaking head, Bombur's frightened face. "I vouched for you at Lake-town, Thorin. I gave my word." As a Baggins.

As a vassal stood for the honour of their king.

Kili opened his mouth to say something but Fili caught his brother's arm tight, his worried gaze flicking from Thorin to Bilbo and back again. The rest of the Company shifted uneasily.

Thorin's hands grasped the arms of the throne on which he sat. He slowly stood, a move of leashed power that almost made Bilbo step back. Standing before his throne and haloed in the light of the Arkenstone, it was suddenly apparent how much power was coiled in the thick lines of Thorin's body.

"For which I am grateful." Thorin's voice was low but it carried throughout the vast chamber. Thorin prowled closer with long slow deliberate steps. "As I am grateful that you have secured the Arkenstone for me." Thorin stopped before him, staring down at Bilbo with warmer eyes. "You have fulfilled your contract admirably, my burglar."

For a moment, just for a moment, Bilbo could see a hint of the Thorin he knew and loved.

"You promised a share of Erebor's wealth to the people of Lake-town, Thorin."

Thorin's face shuttered. "That was before they came armed to the mountain!" He flung out an arm towards the piles of gold and gems around them. "To take what was not theirs by force!"

"They're starving, Uncle!" It was Kili, broken free of Fili's grasp. "They've lost their home-"

"Do you not think I know of loss?!" Thorin turned to face Kili with all the speed of a coiled snake. "What it is to lose a home?!"

"Uncle." Fili stepped forward, drawing Thorin's attention away from Kili. "We were given shelter and supplies. We owe them-"

"We owe them nothing!" Thorin's hand landed on Bilbo's shoulder, drawing him close. "They have acted in their own interest to lay claim to our gold and have shown themselves false." His fingers dug into Bilbo's shoulder. "I will not part with a single coin!"

Bofur shuffled, hat in hand, eyeing the hand clawing into Bilbo's shoulder. "Perhaps we might-"

Thorin turned, his hand lifting free. "I will not suffer disloyalty." His heavy coat swung violently as he walked. "I am king here! I have taken back Erebor and hold the Arkenstone!"

Thorin settled onto the throne, eyes narrowing and mouth thinning. "I will call upon the seven armies. Then we shall see what demands Men and Elves will make of Durin’s folk." A cold smile curled his lips. "They will rue the day they threatened Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain."

Balin closed his eyes, a look of pain on his face, tears trailing down his worn face.

Bilbo stood where Thorin had left him. Filled with the terrible certainty he had made the situation a hundred times worse.

~x~X~x~

Bard reached into his coat, pulling out a wrapped bundle that he started to unwind. He froze as the cloth fell away and a large round river stone was revealed.

Thorin lifted his brows in mocking enquiry. "Is that what you offer?" He turned and gave Bilbo, held at his side, a glance that offered shared amusement. "A simple stone? We may be dwarves but we are not so easily won as that."

The Company burst out laughing, shouting cat calls to the men and elves below.

Bard was looking at the stone in shock. His gaze shot back up to the wall, to Bilbo.

Bilbo looked away, unable to face the man’s look of betrayal.

The laughter faded from Thorin's face. "You came with an army to steal the wealth of my people." He sneered. "To make demands when you have no claim."

"No claim?" Bard leaned forward in his saddle, desperation tightening his voice. "The dragon stole from Dale and Lake-town. It is only right that we receive our due of the gold within the mountain."

Thorin's expression darkened. "I am King Under the Mountain, Ruler of the Seven Dwarf Kingdoms." His large hands tightened on the top of the wall. "I will not be threatened by an army at my gate!"

Bard briefly closed his eyes. "Then you have made your choice."

Even as he spoke a raven approached the gate. It landed on the wall, large and glossy. Its intelligent eyes fixed on Bilbo for a moment before turning to Thorin.

It spoke. Words in Khuzdul.

Thorin's smile grew fierce. "And you have made yours!" It was shouted down with vicious satisfaction.

A horn blew.

All eyes turned to the east. To the approaching army, a dark line at the top of the ridge.

Another deeper horn sounded out. And another.

An army was approaching from the south. Another from the west.

Thorin’s smile was almost gleeful. "I will have war!"

~x~X~x~

Thorin wore his grandfather's armour. Well-armoured and bearing a sword from the treasury, he cut effortlessly through orcs and goblins before him.

He fought with a power, a ferocity Bilbo had never seen before. A warg in dwarven form.

Bilbo looked on in horror as Thorin carved great swathes through the army of orcs.

It should have given him hope. He should have been relieved that the situation had changed so much. That Thorin was strong and looked unbeatable.

But the niggling doubt he had borne only grew. And turned to worry as Thorin cut down an elf that stood between him and an orc. As Thorin stepped over the elf's corpse to cut down the orcs behind him.

It could have been an accident, an act of instinct rather than deliberate malice. But Bilbo knew better. Thorin did not make such mistakes in battle.

The thought caused a flicker of fear to grow in Bilbo's heart. With the Arkenstone in his grasp, Thorin looked to be unbeatable. But where would he stop?

~x~X~x~

The elves formed a defensive barrier around their king, a thick phalanx of armour and weapons. But a small one. Many had been cut down by the orcs.

Even more by the dwarves.

Thorin stood before his army, his armour darkened by black orc blood and the bright red of the elves. He was flanked by Fili and Kili, both grim-faced and apprehensive.

"Drop your weapons." Thorin ordered, his face specked with blood. "Surrender."

"Under what terms?" Thranduil sneered. "What guarantee do I have you will spare our lives?"

"Complete surrender." A slight smile curved Thorin's lips. "As to your safety, you have my word."

Thranduil's lips twisted as if he had just drunk something bitter. "Your word." The elven king drew himself up, staring down at Thorin. "What is the word of a nogoth worth?"

The dwarven army had gone quiet. Deathly so.

Thorin eyes were cold as he regarded the elven king. "Your decision is clear." He drew his sword. "We will wipe your treacherous race from the face of the earth! Never again will you betray Durin's folk!"

"Thorin!" Bilbo's protest was smothered in the roar of approval by the gathered dwarves. He made to move forward, only to be held back by Balin.

"Not now, laddie." The older dwarf's voice was filled with warning, his eyes resigned.

Thranduil's elven guard closed ranks but the outcome was inevitable.

It was a slaughter.

~x~X~x~

Thorin flicked the blood from Thranduil's sword. He studied blade for a moment before sheathing it and tossing it towards Dain. "A souvenir for you, cousin."

Dain caught it with a snort of disgust. "I prefer Dwarven steel to a weed-eater's needle."

Laughter ran out from the dwarven warriors in hearing distance.

Bilbo was silent, staring at the mound of corpses piled behind Thorin. Elven armour and pale hair stained with blood.

The last of the Elven army.

The last of Thranduil.

"Bilbo."

Thorin stood close, a smile on his face. Teeth white against the blood spatter patterning his skin.

He gripped Bilbo's shoulder's, bending to press his forehead against Bilbo's. Bilbo could feel his hair, wet with blood, smear coldly across his cheek.

Thorin pulled back. "We have won, my burglar." Thorin's gaze was playful. "Taken back what is ours. None will challenge us now."

He straightened. "Take his head." He commanded the dwarves piling bodies. "Hang it from the wall."

Bilbo closed his eyes. Balin had been right. The Arkenstone had claimed the Thorin Bilbo had known. Left this in its wake. A sickness worse than a lust for gold. Power madness, cruelty twisted deep and a thirst for dominion.

Bilbo opened his eyes, catching Balin's pained expression. Dwalin's blank face.

Thorin's gaze fell on Dale, eyes narrowing. "Let it be a lesson for those who would seek to threaten Durin's folk."

It was not the end, Bilbo suddenly realized with dull horror. Thorin had only started.

~x~X~x~

Bilbo didn't try to give Thorin the Arkenstone again.

~x~X~x~

Sindarin:
Nogoth - dwarf

~x~X~x~

On to Chapter Six

~x~X~x~

Comments

[paranoid-fridge.livejournal.com]

Oh my. Dark Thorin is seriously creepy (and this chapter awesome!!!)

[flakedice.livejournal.com]

Apologies for replying so late!

I was surprised how at dark I started writing him ^_^;; But I think it sort of followed in the story. And I wanted to creep out Bilbo a bit too (I'm glad you think I succeeded).