Many Paths: Chapter Ten
May. 15th, 2015 11:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
flakediceTitle: Many Paths (10 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
"Ziimarp!" Bolg spat out the word, dark blood spraying as he fell to the ground.
Bilbo stood over him, blood dripping steadily from Sting's blade. He waited until Bolg had fallen still, no longer breathing and his blood pooling on the ground. Only then did he step back, shoulders slumping.
He pressed a hand to his side, grimacing at the dull pain of bruised ribs. The mithril shirt Thorin had given him had saved his life.
But it hadn't been enough to stop injury altogether.
Bilbo glanced down at the blood running down his leg. He staggered away from Bolg's corpse, falling more than sitting on a fallen chunk of wall.
The cut was deep, skin hanging loose and blood welling up to quickly slide down to the curls on his foot. It had missed the artery, wouldn't be fatal if he could get it tended to.
Flicking Bolg's blood from his blade, Bilbo used Sting to cut a strip from his coat, a makeshift bandage. Resting Sting on his lap, he wrapped it around the wound firmly. Cutting another strip when the red stain widened, seeping through.
Bilbo kept adding layers until the flow slowed. Blood seeped through the bandage. A slowing spread that indicated a chance of recovery. If he lasted until Azog was dead, Bilbo would be satisfied.
If he could save Thorin and the others, it would be worth another death.
~x~X~x~
“Fili. Take your brother.” Thorin stood, a blurred figure close to three others. “Scout out the tower-”
"That's not a good idea." Bilbo pulled off the ring and stepped into sight.
Thorin took a step towards him, expression open with surprise. "Bilbo."
"Bilbo!" Kili was quicker, dashing over to grasp his shoulder. Fili wasn't far behind him. "What are you doing here?"
Bilbo smiled up at him, feeling the movement pull the cut on his scalp, before fixing his attention on Thorin.
He was closer now and the surprise on his face had given way to concern as he took in Bilbo's appearance.
He still had some of Bolg's blood on him and that of his guards, Bilbo realised. He ignored Fili's pensive glance and the way Dwalin's hands tightened on his axes. "There's another army. An army of orcs from Gundabad. They come from the north."
Even if he had delayed them with his last-minute rock fall.
Thorin grasped the situation quickly, as he always did. "We retreat. Live to fight another day." He glanced up at the misted crown of Ravenhill where Azog waited and steered Kili around with a hand to his shoulder.
Bilbo followed after, falling in with Fili. Sting held in one hand.
Fili's eyes flicked from Sting's darkened blade to the wound on Bilbo's face. "Uncle didn't think you'd come back."
Bilbo glanced at Thorin, whose steps had hitched slightly at Fili's words. He gave Fili a grim smile. "I've grown fond of you all." He glanced at Thorin again, unable to stop himself. It had been a while since he had seen Thorin alive for such a span of time. "I suspected you'd been in trouble without me to get you out of it."
"We're glad you came back." Kili added.
"Aye, and grateful for it, lad." Dwalin agreed, somewhat grimly.
Thorin had stopped ahead of them. He now drew his sword. “Orcs!”
Bilbo tightened his grip on Sting as he caught sight of the orcs approaching them from the ruins. There were at least twenty.
Dwalin ran forward, one orc folding around one of his axes, the other cutting off a second orc’s arm. Thorin wasn’t far behind. Fili and Kili followed after him, Bilbo at their heels. He wasn’t going to let any of them die if he could help it.
After several minutes of fighting, Bilbo found himself standing by Thorin’s side. Dead orcs littered the ground around them.
All his dwarves were standing, none of them even injured. Bilbo could hardly believe it.
Eru save them, they might make it this time.
~x~X~x~
They made it off Ravenhill. Bilbo stumbled along the level path at the watchtower's foothill with shock. They had made it.
He could hardly believe it. They had never gotten this far before.
"Keep up." Dwalin clapped one large hand on Bilbo's shoulder encouragingly.
Kili slowed down a little from his steady trot, falling back to Bilbo's side. "Stay near us when we get to the field." His voice was terse but quiet. He exchanged a look with Fili, who nodded.
"We'll watch Thorin's back." Fili cast a glance ahead at Thorin where he jogged on before them.
They were trying to protect him. After all times he had been trying to save them, had already died. Bilbo choked back a hysterical laugh. He nodded.
The battlefield lay below them, a chaotic clash of dwarves, orcs and elves studded with wargs and trolls. To Bilbo's eyes, it was a mess with no clear victory for either side.
Thorin, however, saw something else.
"We join with Dain!" He thrust out a finger towards the fighting dwarves. They were on the last stretch of the path, approaching close to the battle. The sound of it filled the air. "Add our strength to that of our kin!"
Bilbo tightened his hold on Sting, nervous and tired. And in unchartered territory once more.
"Keep close, Bilbo." Thorin shouted over his shoulder. And then they were charging into battle, Dwalin and Thorin crashing into the first line of orcs.
Bilbo stayed close to Fili and Kili, striking out at the orcs that pressed them. Using his size and speed to advantage. If there was one thing that his hundreds of battles had given him, it was a harsh instruction of how fight in order to keep his dwarven charges alive.
In the absence of Azog and Bolg, the dwarves were unstoppable. Dwalin and Thorin tore through the waves of orcs with violent ease. Fili and Kili were almost as effective, fighting like their arms were extensions of each other.
Hope burned with a brightness that was nearly painful. Bilbo had saved his dwarves from Azog and Bolg. And no ordinary orc would be able to kill them.
A spear flew through the air. It caught Bilbo in the chest, flinging him into the ground. Fili and Kili's cries in the air.
It wasn't enough to puncture his mithril shirt but the damage was done. Lying on the ground, he was easy pickings for the orc that stomped on his head.
~x~X~x~
Bilbo woke up in Dale, body jerking upright with his last memory.
Which was now, simply that.
"Curse it all!" Bilbo fell back on the bed thumping into the mattress.
He'd been so close.
~x~X~x~
Bilbo yanked off the ring.
"Bilbo!" Thorin took a step towards him, face lighting in shocked joy.
"Where are Fili and Kili?" They were not with them, Bilbo saw with a sinking heart. The orcs he'd had to fight through had slowed him down too much.
"Gone to scout the tower. They just left." Dwalin was eyeing the blood on his coat, Sting's unsheathed blade.
He could get them back in time if he left now. Or at least save them from Azog and Bolg.
"There's a second army coming from the north." Bilbo cast a wary glance at the tower, suspiciously empty. "Under Bolg's command."
Dwalin's hands tightened on his axes, expression darkening.
Thorin glanced at the tower, realisation stealing over his face. "Fili and Kili." His face had paled.
"I'll get them back." Bilbo cut him off when Thorin made to speak. "I'm less likely to be seen and spring Azog's trap."
"Bilbo-"
Bilbo caught Thorin's hand and reached into his coat. He folded Thorin's fingers around the acorn, holding Thorin’s hand in his.
"I would plant this here with you." Where an oak would grow mighty and strong, a living remembrance of their struggle for a home. "If it would be allowed to pass. Hold onto it for me."
It was not the first time he had said it. Nor would it be the last. But Bilbo was not going to leave it unsaid when he had the chance.
"Keep out of sight. And away from the ice!" He fixed his eyes on Thorin, gaping at him, eyes wide, and turned to Dwalin. "We'll need all our blades if we're going to battle out of Azog's trap."
He left Thorin staring after him in shock, Dwalin calling out his name.
~x~X~x~
Bilbo slipped on the ring as soon as he was out of sight. He ran down the side of the ruins and across the wide expanse of ice to the tower.
He moved as quickly as he could, focused on the entrance to the tower. That would be where Fili and Kili would have gone. He just had to hope they hadn't made their way too far into the tower.
After several minutes of running over frozen ice, Bilbo reached the base of the tower. There were footprints in the snow. Large dwarven boot prints. Undisturbed.
Somewhat relieved, Bilbo slipped into the tower, blinking to help his eyes adjust to the dark. His large feet were silent on the stone floor and he strained his hearing, listening for any sounds that would reveal the presence of his dwarves.
It took him several moments but finally he heard something. A soft scuff of metal on stone.
Bilbo hurried to the source of the noise. After climbing a flight of stairs and following a twisting tunnel, he found himself in an open room. Fili and Kili were warily surveying it, swords in hand.
Bilbo pulled off the ring. "Fili!" It was a loud whisper.
Fili's head snapped around, his eyes widening.
"Bilbo!" Kili looked equally shocked.
"Thorin sent me." It wasn't strictly true but the fastest way to convince them. He padded into the room. "It's a trap. Another army is coming from the north. We have to rejoin the others."
Fili was regarding him with a frown. Grim but decisive. He exchanged a look with Kili and then turned back to Bilbo. "Where are they?"
Bilbo's shoulders slumped with relief. "This way." He turned and headed back down the tunnel he'd come.
They were about to descend the stairs when Bilbo suddenly froze. He glanced back at Fili and Kili, raising a hand.
Bilbo wrinkled his nose, ears twitching. There had been something-
"Khozdayil."
Bilbo turned. Bolg stood in the mouth of the tunnel behind them, half a dozen orc guards behind him.
"Azultul!"
The orcs streamed forward at Bolg's command.
Bilbo, his gaze fixed on the white orc before him, ran forward.
He ignored Kili's cry behind him, ducking an orc's weapon, slashing at exposed skin where the opportunity arose. But Bolg was his focus.
The white orc regarded him with a sort of distant contempt. But that changed after Bilbo made his way through his orc guard unscathed.
Bilbo had no intention of letting Bolg get to Fili or Kili.
Eyes narrow, Bolg strode forward, sword held low.
Bilbo darted sideways, throwing the iron shot he had palmed.
Bolg managed to deflect the missile with his sword. It skimmed off the blade, hitting his shoulder instead of his head. And then he was closing the gap with several large strides, sword rising.
"Bilbo!" Kili thrust back the blade of the orc he was facing and parried the blow of another.
Bilbo ducked, running to the side to land a glancing blow across Bolg's ribs.
The white orc turned with startling speed. Striking out with a lightning-quick slash.
Bolg's speed was still surprising even after fighting him for so long. Bilbo barely managed to get Sting up to deflect the blow, forcing the sword aside. It clipped Bilbo's shoulder, burning a line across the edge of his jaw and clipping his ear.
Bilbo flinched away, Sting held up defensively. He retreated as Bolg advanced, his flat eyes fixed on Bilbo with a hateful stare.
Only to be knocked aside as Kili came flying in to throw Bolg back.
Steel clashed as Kili and Bolg circled each other.
Bilbo didn't hesitate, darting in to strike Bolg when he saw an opening, opening a deep cut on his leg. He ducked back out of range as Bolg took a swipe at him, letting Kili strike while the orc was distracted.
They held Bolg at bay; Kili engaging him directly while Bilbo continued stinging, distracting blows.
Bolg couldn't win. And he realized it. The white orc was suddenly moving backward, retreating a step at a time. Trying to break away to reach the corridor.
A knife flew over their heads, embedding deep into Bolg's eye. The white orc stood still for a moment, then toppled backward. He fell to the ground, motionless.
"Finally." Bilbo muttered. He moved closer to stand over the fallen orc. There was no doubt - Bolg was dead.
Bilbo pulled the knife - one Fili must have taken from the armoury - from Bolg's eye, grimacing at the sound. He wiped off the blade and stuck it into his coat.
Fili pulled his sword free of the last orc's corpse.
Kili grasped his arm, looking him over. "Are you well?"
Fili nodded. He turned to meet Bilbo's gaze. "We'd best hurry. There will be more orcs once these have been discovered."
And Thorin and Dwalin wouldn't stay put if they thought Fili and Kili were in danger.
Bilbo nodded. With luck they wouldn't run into any more orcs. In the tower at least.
~x~X~x~
Thorin and Dwalin weren't where Bilbo had left them.
They were on the frozen river, fighting a band of orcs. Very clearly trying to reach the tower.
Bilbo suppressed a sigh. An effort to clear the route Bilbo would have taken Fili and Kili on, no doubt. But they should have more faith in his abilities by now.
Fili and Kili caught sight of Thorin and Dwalin hacking at the orcs and ran forward, drawing their own weapons.
Bilbo watched them for a moment. The fight turning in the dwarves' favour now Fili and Kili had joined the battle. He could join them, add his blade or launch iron shots from a distance to help them take the last orcs down.
But his dwarves were more than a match for common orcs.
Only white orcs had managed to kill them.
Bilbo stared up at the tower, the shadows near the outlook where Azog could be found.
He drew Sting and headed back into the tower.
~x~X~x~
Azog stood as if he had been waiting for him. A small smile on his face as he paced forward and started circling around Bilbo.
"Akashuga." Azog's eyes narrowed. "Shaataz. Snaag."
He remembered Bilbo from the warg attack. Bilbo could see it in his eyes, the calculating assessment that narrowed his gaze.
If it was meant to unnerve him, it didn't affect Bilbo. He had faced Azog too many times to be intimidated. He knew well the horror of being Azog's prey.
And his weaknesses.
Apparently bored with Bilbo's inaction, Azog made his move. He started forward, blade swinging in a wide arc intended to separate Bilbo's head from his body.
Bilbo darted sideways, avoiding the blow, and lunged forward, aiming for Azog's weaker side.
Azog's blade came around in a surprisingly fast vicious arc that Bilbo barely dodged. He retreated to more uneven ground, scrambling up onto a fallen block of stone and flinging an iron shot at the white orc.
Azog deflected it with a disdainful snarl, stalking Bilbo through the ruins of the tower.
It was fight pitting Azog's size and strength against Bilbo speed and agility. Bilbo used the ruins to his advantage, ducking behind listing fragments of wall and launching himself off fallen blocks of stone. Azog harried him with heavy blows, defecting Bilbo’s strikes with his superior strength, brushing Sting aside.
They battled on until they stumbled out onto the lip of stone overlooking the frozen river below.
"Bilbo!"
Thorin's cry was so unexpected, Bilbo made the mistake of looking away.
Azog was on him. His blade cutting across Bilbo’s chest, ripping through his coat to his mithril shirt. A retreating strike caught his leg, causing Bilbo to stumble. One large hand grasped him by his coat and lifted him high off the ground.
Bilbo twisted, swinging Sting. But Azog simply shook him hard, leaving Bilbo hanging, Sting fallen from his grasp.
"Torin undag Train-ob!" Azog shouted out the words, his voice a challenge.
Bilbo found himself swung around to face Thorin.
Thorin who had ground to a halt at the sight of Bilbo in Azog's grasp. He had broken free of the fighting. Dwalin, Fili and Kili still fought against a group of orcs behind him.
"Hon. Akashugalab. Lat turkta?" Azog spoke mockingly. He shook Bilbo again in emphasis. "Kulta turkûrz?"
Bilbo tried to claw at the hand that held him but Azog simply shook him again.
There was a scrape. A line of cold against his neck.
Azog's blade.
Bilbo stared at Thorin who had been halted only after a few steps.
"Ahk. Kulta." Azog sounded triumphant. He drew Bilbo back to his chest, blade falling away. His large hand held him still.
"Hon, Rani Khozdil." Azog drew him close, his moist breath fanning across the side of Bilbo's face.
Thorin stood below them, hand tight on his sword. Straining forward. Eyes desperate and wild.
Bilbo could practically feel the warmth of Azog's mouth close to his face.
Not again-
Bilbo twisted his head.
But not soon enough.
Azog's teeth tore into Bilbo's ear, ripping free.
Pain ripped down the side of his face, muffling Thorin's outraged bellow.
But Bilbo was used to it by now and knew Azog would be distracted in his triumph.
This time Bilbo wasn't so close to death that he couldn't inflict some damage.
Bilbo twisted in Azog's grasp, using the Fili's knife to thrust deep between Azog's ribs.
The white orc let out a roar, grip loosening.
Bilbo twisted free, hand still on the knife in Azog's side, tearing the wound open wide. Damage done, he tore the knife free, kicking off the orc's chest to land on the icy stone.
His leg gave out once his weight was on it. Bilbo crumpled. Sting glinted on the snow and Bilbo rolled, hand reaching for the hilt-
"Mat akashuga!" Azog lunged towards him.
-closing on it. With desperate strength, Bilbo thrust Sting upwards, aiming for Azog's unguarded throat.
The thin blade sank into Azog's flesh, spearing his neck and bursting out the back close to his spine.
Azog's eyes stared down at Bilbo, wide with disbelief.
He fell forward, one hand clawing up at the awful wound. Gasping wetly, blood a dark tide from his mouth.
His weight was like a hammer blow. Bilbo gasped for breath beneath him, expecting the white orc to do his best to kill the hobbit that had felled him.
But Sting was thrust to the hilt through Azog's throat. The pale orc didn't get up. He didn't move.
And Bilbo was trapped beneath him. Azog's blood was an increasing wetness in his hair, pooling beneath his neck. His flesh pressed grotesquely against his, crushing his chest and pushing the side of Bilbo's face into the snow. Pressing down on him in a suffocating weight that threatened to crush the life out of him-
"-ibo!"
"Bilbo!"
Bilbo blinked his eyes open in surprise, not even noticing they had closed. The sight he saw had Bilbo blinking again, not sure he could believe what he was seeing.
Thorin staggered closer, his expression one of desolation. His eyes were wet as he sank to his knees.
Thorin thought he was dead.
And he would be soon, if he couldn't get free of Azog's corpse.
Bilbo tried to say something but he couldn't draw in enough air. One of Bilbo's hands was partly free, though. Bilbo flexed his fingers, vaguely aware that the others had arrived.
"Bilbo!" Kili shouted out.
"He's alive!" It was Dwalin who barked the words. He slung his axes to his shoulders and grasped one of Azog's shoulders. "Here lads! Help me lift this filth!"
Fili and Kili rushed forward as Thorin staggered upright.
Dwalin said something in Khuzdul. Fili replied firmly, Kili more faintly.
Azog's weight shifted. Rocked and then-
Bilbo could breathe.
He sucked in a breath only to hiss it out again as he inadvertently shifted. Pain shot along his nerves, breath stealing and like a white explosion.
Bilbo drew in a small breath. A slightly larger one when the bolt of pain wasn't repeated.
"Bilbo."
Bilbo pried his eyes open at Thorin's soft utterance of his name.
He took in a shallow breath. "Thorin."
He scanned him, best as he could with Thorin kneeling at his side. There was blood on his hands and face, dark splatters across his clothes. But it didn't look like any of his.
As for Fili and Kili-
They were muttering to each other in Khuzdul, kneeling with Dwalin at his feet-
"What?" He tried to pull himself up, to see what Dwalin and the others were doing.
A large hand pressed down gently on his chest. Fili gave him a stern look. "Lie still, Bilbo."
That didn't sound good. He glanced up at Thorin's pale face. It probably looked a lot worse. Bilbo let himself be pushed back, wincing at the jagged pain that shot up his side and across his face.
A soft brush of fingers across his cheek had his attention turning back to Thorin. "Bilbo-" Thorin’s eyes caught on the side of Bilbo's face and he froze, expression becoming pained.
Oh. His ear. Or what was left of it.
"Kili."
There was a ripping sound.
Kili knelt down on his other side. "Bilbo." The greeting was filled with forced cheerfulness. There was a soft grating sound as he dug up a handful of snow. "This will sting a bit," he continued awkwardly, "but it should stop the bleeding."
It more than stung.
Bilbo hissed in a breath, pain flaring as Kili pressed the cloth-wrapped snow to the remnants of his ear. His hands clenched, teeth gritted against the pain. But slowly it faded, the cold of the snow numbing his ear and the side of his face.
He suddenly realised that one of his hands wasn't empty. He had Thorin's large hand in his grasp.
He relaxed his grip, certain Thorin would slip his hand free.
But he didn't. Thorin held his gaze, a small smile fighting against the worry writ large on his face.
"And my leg?"
There was a moment of silence. Thorin's fingers twitched in his grasp before stilling.
"Azog gave you a nasty cut. Nothing too serious." Kili smiled unconvincingly. "Fili's just about to bind it."
"And splint it." Dwalin added gruffly.
There was something they weren't telling him. Bilbo gazed up at Thorin's face. The grim lines and the constant wetness of his eyes.
Thorin never dealt with his impending death very well.
There was a faint cry.
Bilbo's gaze lifted.
A bird glided overhead. An impossibly large bird.
"The eagles are coming." It was a soft whisper, the movement of his lips pulling at the cut across his face.
Bilbo didn't care. They would be safe now. His dwarves would live even if he did not.
Fili tightened the bandages.
Bilbo's vision whited out and he didn't fight it.
~x~X~x~
His eyes were heavy, his body like lead. Bilbo wondered if he was still lying on the ice, cold holding him still, a slow leeching death.
Bilbo pried his eyes open. Stone met his gaze. His eyes fell shut.
Stone.
Not pale sky. Stone, not wood.
Bilbo's eyes shot open. He floundered up, letting out a gasp as pain flared.
"Easy Bilbo!" The words were strangely muffled. Large hands pressed him back down on the bed. "Easy."
Bilbo stared at their owner in disbelief. Thorin. Thorin was here.
Alive.
This-This couldn't be right.
"Those stitches are still healing." Oin reprimanded, stepping into view. He leaned over the bed, examining the side of Bilbo's face.
The bandages, Bilbo realised, a hand reaching up.
"Enough of that now, lad." Oin laid his hand back on the bed. "We had a bad enough time of it stopping you from scratching at it during the fever."
Thorin's hand had wrapped around his at some point. It tightened its grasp.
"Fever?" Bilbo felt like he still had one, his thoughts were so heavy and slow moving. It would certainly explain the ache that was his body.
Except for his leg. Bilbo eyed the too-large lump under his blankets. He had a feeling that it would be much worse than an ache if he tried to move it.
Oin made a noise of agreement, following Bilbo's gaze. "Orc filth. Azog's blade was coated with the stuff." He shook his head. "Not a pretty sight and worse to clean."
"Oin." Thorin's voice was low but it held a note of warning.
"Eh?" Oin caught Thorin's expression and nodded. "We managed to save it with Tharkun's help." He continued with a reassuring pat to the knee. "You should regain full use of it with time."
Bilbo stared at his leg. He knew how bad it had been. He’d thought Azog's wound would kill him. (He still wasn't quite sure it hadn't. Was this another repeat?) He might walk again but his leg would never look the same.
His ear certainly wouldn't.
"Couldn't do much about the ear." Oin peered into his eyes, pressing a light hand to his forehead for a moment before he nodded to himself with satisfaction. "You'll have to resign yourself to share that with Dwalin."
"Oh." Bilbo felt rather faint as he pictured his ear missing the same chunk Dwalin's did.
But it was better than missing his ear entirely. Bilbo shivered. He could still remember the feel of the side of his head without an ear, the flesh around it torn down to bone-
"Bilbo." Thorin's hand had tightened, squeezing his fingers.
Bilbo's eyes slid to fix on Thorin's face. There was a healing cut alongside his eye but otherwise he looked well.
Aside from the darkened circles under his eyes, new lines around his mouth, Thorin looked as he had when he had entered Bag End.
Part of an ear was nothing. His leg was nothing as long as Thorin and the others were alive. "Fili and Kili?"
Something in Thorin's expression relaxed slightly. "Well. If I hadn't sent them away, you would have woken to find them camped at your bedside."
Oin let out a snort. He set aside one of the glass bottles he had been examining. "I'll be back to bring you a tonic in half a bell. Don't strain yourself while I'm gone." With that he let himself out of the room.
It was large room, now that he was seeing it. Thick rugs lay on the stone floor, a fire blazed in the large hearth on the other side of the room. It picked out the mosaics in the walls, metal and gems.
Bilbo blinked.
"Bilbo." The hand wrapped around his was holding tight again.
Bilbo turned to find Thorin staring him, his eyes downcast, his mouth pulled down in pained expression. He met Bilbo's gaze with desperate earnestness. "I am sorry for my actions at the gate. I-"
He cut off, eyes wide as he stared down at where Bilbo had twisted his hand, catching Thorin's in his own.
"You were not yourself, Thorin." How long had it been since he had seen Thorin as himself. Bilbo blinked rapidly. "There is nothing to forgive."
He tightened his grip, forestalling Thorin when he would speak again. "If anything, I should apologise. I took the Arkenstone. I should have found another way." He hadn't been able to find one but that didn't mean there wasn't a choice that could have avoided battle.
Or even Thorin's dragon sickness.
"You acted as a true friend, Bilbo." Thorin’s other hand came up to cover Bilbo’s. "More than a friend. You have slain the enemy of my line. Saved my sister's-sons. Helped to reclaim the kingdom of my people." Thorin's voice was soft as he gazed at Bilbo in open fondness. "Given them a home."
Bilbo's throat was tight.
"And you have given me something beyond price." Thorin's smile lit his entire face with its warmth. Happy in a way Bilbo had seldom seen.
Bilbo stared at him, unable to say anything as Thorin reached into the neck of his rich tunic.
Thorin opened his hand, pressing something smooth and round into Bilbo's palm. "I believe you were going to help me plant this."
Bilbo turned his hand, still cradled in Thorin's, palm up. An acorn sat in his palm.
"You won back our home, Bilbo Baggins." Thorin smiled, his fingers stroking the back of Bilbo's hand. "And I would be honoured if you called it your own."
The Shire, Bilbo thought. But it was an automatic reaction, a thought and little else. The rolling green hills and gently bending streams of his memory were beloved but they had been left behind. And Bilbo, changed as he was, could not go back to them.
Bag End was no longer the home it had been. He had travelled far beyond the Shire's boundaries.
He wouldn't fit in Shire life again, half an ear missing and his leg heavily scarred.
Having found one dwarf he couldn't leave.
Bilbo closed his hand, clasping the Thorin's fingers and holding the acorn between their palms. "I suspect it will take some time to find the right place to plant it." Bilbo cleared his throat, the movement sending dull pain through the side of his face. "Oaks need a lot of space after all. Open sky and plenty of soil."
Thorin's smile broke into a wide grin. "I will have to help you. To find a suitable location."
Bilbo eyed him narrowly, trying to resist giving into the bubbles of happiness that were growing in his chest. "I would have thought you would be busy with repairs to the mountain." Overseeing the aftermath of the battle.
Though if Oin was to be believed, Bilbo must have slept through most of that.
"My cousin Dain is overseeing the mountain in my absence." He gave Bilbo a warm amused smile. "For now I am at your disposal, my burglar."
Bilbo's face warmed at the endearment. The tightness of his throat threatened to become worse. Bilbo swallowed hard. "I have one request."
Thorin's eyebrows rose, mouth curving in a small smile. "Only one?"
Bilbo smiled back, unable to stop himself responding to Thorin's good humour. Not wanting to.
"Stay with me." Bilbo could feel himself colour at the words. Thorin stared at him wide eyed and Bilbo hurried to explain himself. "Until I wake up." He squirmed against his bed, stilling as it jarred his ear. "So I know this isn't all just a dream..." He trailed off, embarrassed and unable to meet Thorin's gaze.
His heart sank as the silence stretched. Perhaps Thorin-
Thorin's hands closed over his, warm and large.
He was smiling, his eyes soft when Bilbo met his gaze.
"Nothing would please me more, my burglar."
Bilbo relaxed back in the mattress, letting his eyes drift closed. His hands still clasped in Thorin's. Reassured that when he awoke Thorin would be there.
They were all alive. Fili. Kili.
Thorin.
Whatever curse he had been under, the loop had been broken.
It was a new day. And there much to live for.
His world was now much more than books and maps.
~x~X~x~
EPILOGUE
The Ring sat in Bilbo Baggin's pocket.
It had failed to break its bearer. An effort that had drained its strength. Forcing the Halfling to tread the path of the worst possibilities had been a battle. The Halfling had resisted every step, his thoughts twisting each scenario to his advantage, until even the Ring could not steer his mind to despairing paths. It had lost.
But it had time. There would be another time of crisis it could use to slip into the Halfling’s mind and wear down his will.
The Ring had waited a long time for its master's return. It could wait a little longer.
END
~x~X~x~
Black Speech:
Ziimarp! - 'Coward!'
Khozdayil. - 'Dwarf-scum.'
Azultul! - 'Kill them!'
Akashuga. - 'Halfling.'
Shaataz. Snaag.. 'Troublemaker. Weak.'
Torin undag Train-ob! - 'Thorin son of Thrain!'
Hon. Akashugalab. Lat turkta? - 'Look. Your halfing. Do you value him?'
Kulta turkûrz? - 'Is he valuable?'
Ahk. Kulta. - 'Yes. He is.'
Hon, Rani Khozdil. - 'Watch, Dwarf King.'
Mat akashuga! 'Die halfling!'
~x~X~x~
So, not a time travel fic after all XD
I hope you survived wading through all the angst. But I hope the ending (before the reveal) made up for it somewhat.
~x~X~x~
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 X
"Ziimarp!" Bolg spat out the word, dark blood spraying as he fell to the ground.
Bilbo stood over him, blood dripping steadily from Sting's blade. He waited until Bolg had fallen still, no longer breathing and his blood pooling on the ground. Only then did he step back, shoulders slumping.
He pressed a hand to his side, grimacing at the dull pain of bruised ribs. The mithril shirt Thorin had given him had saved his life.
But it hadn't been enough to stop injury altogether.
Bilbo glanced down at the blood running down his leg. He staggered away from Bolg's corpse, falling more than sitting on a fallen chunk of wall.
The cut was deep, skin hanging loose and blood welling up to quickly slide down to the curls on his foot. It had missed the artery, wouldn't be fatal if he could get it tended to.
Flicking Bolg's blood from his blade, Bilbo used Sting to cut a strip from his coat, a makeshift bandage. Resting Sting on his lap, he wrapped it around the wound firmly. Cutting another strip when the red stain widened, seeping through.
Bilbo kept adding layers until the flow slowed. Blood seeped through the bandage. A slowing spread that indicated a chance of recovery. If he lasted until Azog was dead, Bilbo would be satisfied.
If he could save Thorin and the others, it would be worth another death.
“Fili. Take your brother.” Thorin stood, a blurred figure close to three others. “Scout out the tower-”
"That's not a good idea." Bilbo pulled off the ring and stepped into sight.
Thorin took a step towards him, expression open with surprise. "Bilbo."
"Bilbo!" Kili was quicker, dashing over to grasp his shoulder. Fili wasn't far behind him. "What are you doing here?"
Bilbo smiled up at him, feeling the movement pull the cut on his scalp, before fixing his attention on Thorin.
He was closer now and the surprise on his face had given way to concern as he took in Bilbo's appearance.
He still had some of Bolg's blood on him and that of his guards, Bilbo realised. He ignored Fili's pensive glance and the way Dwalin's hands tightened on his axes. "There's another army. An army of orcs from Gundabad. They come from the north."
Even if he had delayed them with his last-minute rock fall.
Thorin grasped the situation quickly, as he always did. "We retreat. Live to fight another day." He glanced up at the misted crown of Ravenhill where Azog waited and steered Kili around with a hand to his shoulder.
Bilbo followed after, falling in with Fili. Sting held in one hand.
Fili's eyes flicked from Sting's darkened blade to the wound on Bilbo's face. "Uncle didn't think you'd come back."
Bilbo glanced at Thorin, whose steps had hitched slightly at Fili's words. He gave Fili a grim smile. "I've grown fond of you all." He glanced at Thorin again, unable to stop himself. It had been a while since he had seen Thorin alive for such a span of time. "I suspected you'd been in trouble without me to get you out of it."
"We're glad you came back." Kili added.
"Aye, and grateful for it, lad." Dwalin agreed, somewhat grimly.
Thorin had stopped ahead of them. He now drew his sword. “Orcs!”
Bilbo tightened his grip on Sting as he caught sight of the orcs approaching them from the ruins. There were at least twenty.
Dwalin ran forward, one orc folding around one of his axes, the other cutting off a second orc’s arm. Thorin wasn’t far behind. Fili and Kili followed after him, Bilbo at their heels. He wasn’t going to let any of them die if he could help it.
After several minutes of fighting, Bilbo found himself standing by Thorin’s side. Dead orcs littered the ground around them.
All his dwarves were standing, none of them even injured. Bilbo could hardly believe it.
Eru save them, they might make it this time.
They made it off Ravenhill. Bilbo stumbled along the level path at the watchtower's foothill with shock. They had made it.
He could hardly believe it. They had never gotten this far before.
"Keep up." Dwalin clapped one large hand on Bilbo's shoulder encouragingly.
Kili slowed down a little from his steady trot, falling back to Bilbo's side. "Stay near us when we get to the field." His voice was terse but quiet. He exchanged a look with Fili, who nodded.
"We'll watch Thorin's back." Fili cast a glance ahead at Thorin where he jogged on before them.
They were trying to protect him. After all times he had been trying to save them, had already died. Bilbo choked back a hysterical laugh. He nodded.
The battlefield lay below them, a chaotic clash of dwarves, orcs and elves studded with wargs and trolls. To Bilbo's eyes, it was a mess with no clear victory for either side.
Thorin, however, saw something else.
"We join with Dain!" He thrust out a finger towards the fighting dwarves. They were on the last stretch of the path, approaching close to the battle. The sound of it filled the air. "Add our strength to that of our kin!"
Bilbo tightened his hold on Sting, nervous and tired. And in unchartered territory once more.
"Keep close, Bilbo." Thorin shouted over his shoulder. And then they were charging into battle, Dwalin and Thorin crashing into the first line of orcs.
Bilbo stayed close to Fili and Kili, striking out at the orcs that pressed them. Using his size and speed to advantage. If there was one thing that his hundreds of battles had given him, it was a harsh instruction of how fight in order to keep his dwarven charges alive.
In the absence of Azog and Bolg, the dwarves were unstoppable. Dwalin and Thorin tore through the waves of orcs with violent ease. Fili and Kili were almost as effective, fighting like their arms were extensions of each other.
Hope burned with a brightness that was nearly painful. Bilbo had saved his dwarves from Azog and Bolg. And no ordinary orc would be able to kill them.
A spear flew through the air. It caught Bilbo in the chest, flinging him into the ground. Fili and Kili's cries in the air.
It wasn't enough to puncture his mithril shirt but the damage was done. Lying on the ground, he was easy pickings for the orc that stomped on his head.
Bilbo woke up in Dale, body jerking upright with his last memory.
Which was now, simply that.
"Curse it all!" Bilbo fell back on the bed thumping into the mattress.
He'd been so close.
Bilbo yanked off the ring.
"Bilbo!" Thorin took a step towards him, face lighting in shocked joy.
"Where are Fili and Kili?" They were not with them, Bilbo saw with a sinking heart. The orcs he'd had to fight through had slowed him down too much.
"Gone to scout the tower. They just left." Dwalin was eyeing the blood on his coat, Sting's unsheathed blade.
He could get them back in time if he left now. Or at least save them from Azog and Bolg.
"There's a second army coming from the north." Bilbo cast a wary glance at the tower, suspiciously empty. "Under Bolg's command."
Dwalin's hands tightened on his axes, expression darkening.
Thorin glanced at the tower, realisation stealing over his face. "Fili and Kili." His face had paled.
"I'll get them back." Bilbo cut him off when Thorin made to speak. "I'm less likely to be seen and spring Azog's trap."
"Bilbo-"
Bilbo caught Thorin's hand and reached into his coat. He folded Thorin's fingers around the acorn, holding Thorin’s hand in his.
"I would plant this here with you." Where an oak would grow mighty and strong, a living remembrance of their struggle for a home. "If it would be allowed to pass. Hold onto it for me."
It was not the first time he had said it. Nor would it be the last. But Bilbo was not going to leave it unsaid when he had the chance.
"Keep out of sight. And away from the ice!" He fixed his eyes on Thorin, gaping at him, eyes wide, and turned to Dwalin. "We'll need all our blades if we're going to battle out of Azog's trap."
He left Thorin staring after him in shock, Dwalin calling out his name.
Bilbo slipped on the ring as soon as he was out of sight. He ran down the side of the ruins and across the wide expanse of ice to the tower.
He moved as quickly as he could, focused on the entrance to the tower. That would be where Fili and Kili would have gone. He just had to hope they hadn't made their way too far into the tower.
After several minutes of running over frozen ice, Bilbo reached the base of the tower. There were footprints in the snow. Large dwarven boot prints. Undisturbed.
Somewhat relieved, Bilbo slipped into the tower, blinking to help his eyes adjust to the dark. His large feet were silent on the stone floor and he strained his hearing, listening for any sounds that would reveal the presence of his dwarves.
It took him several moments but finally he heard something. A soft scuff of metal on stone.
Bilbo hurried to the source of the noise. After climbing a flight of stairs and following a twisting tunnel, he found himself in an open room. Fili and Kili were warily surveying it, swords in hand.
Bilbo pulled off the ring. "Fili!" It was a loud whisper.
Fili's head snapped around, his eyes widening.
"Bilbo!" Kili looked equally shocked.
"Thorin sent me." It wasn't strictly true but the fastest way to convince them. He padded into the room. "It's a trap. Another army is coming from the north. We have to rejoin the others."
Fili was regarding him with a frown. Grim but decisive. He exchanged a look with Kili and then turned back to Bilbo. "Where are they?"
Bilbo's shoulders slumped with relief. "This way." He turned and headed back down the tunnel he'd come.
They were about to descend the stairs when Bilbo suddenly froze. He glanced back at Fili and Kili, raising a hand.
Bilbo wrinkled his nose, ears twitching. There had been something-
"Khozdayil."
Bilbo turned. Bolg stood in the mouth of the tunnel behind them, half a dozen orc guards behind him.
"Azultul!"
The orcs streamed forward at Bolg's command.
Bilbo, his gaze fixed on the white orc before him, ran forward.
He ignored Kili's cry behind him, ducking an orc's weapon, slashing at exposed skin where the opportunity arose. But Bolg was his focus.
The white orc regarded him with a sort of distant contempt. But that changed after Bilbo made his way through his orc guard unscathed.
Bilbo had no intention of letting Bolg get to Fili or Kili.
Eyes narrow, Bolg strode forward, sword held low.
Bilbo darted sideways, throwing the iron shot he had palmed.
Bolg managed to deflect the missile with his sword. It skimmed off the blade, hitting his shoulder instead of his head. And then he was closing the gap with several large strides, sword rising.
"Bilbo!" Kili thrust back the blade of the orc he was facing and parried the blow of another.
Bilbo ducked, running to the side to land a glancing blow across Bolg's ribs.
The white orc turned with startling speed. Striking out with a lightning-quick slash.
Bolg's speed was still surprising even after fighting him for so long. Bilbo barely managed to get Sting up to deflect the blow, forcing the sword aside. It clipped Bilbo's shoulder, burning a line across the edge of his jaw and clipping his ear.
Bilbo flinched away, Sting held up defensively. He retreated as Bolg advanced, his flat eyes fixed on Bilbo with a hateful stare.
Only to be knocked aside as Kili came flying in to throw Bolg back.
Steel clashed as Kili and Bolg circled each other.
Bilbo didn't hesitate, darting in to strike Bolg when he saw an opening, opening a deep cut on his leg. He ducked back out of range as Bolg took a swipe at him, letting Kili strike while the orc was distracted.
They held Bolg at bay; Kili engaging him directly while Bilbo continued stinging, distracting blows.
Bolg couldn't win. And he realized it. The white orc was suddenly moving backward, retreating a step at a time. Trying to break away to reach the corridor.
A knife flew over their heads, embedding deep into Bolg's eye. The white orc stood still for a moment, then toppled backward. He fell to the ground, motionless.
"Finally." Bilbo muttered. He moved closer to stand over the fallen orc. There was no doubt - Bolg was dead.
Bilbo pulled the knife - one Fili must have taken from the armoury - from Bolg's eye, grimacing at the sound. He wiped off the blade and stuck it into his coat.
Fili pulled his sword free of the last orc's corpse.
Kili grasped his arm, looking him over. "Are you well?"
Fili nodded. He turned to meet Bilbo's gaze. "We'd best hurry. There will be more orcs once these have been discovered."
And Thorin and Dwalin wouldn't stay put if they thought Fili and Kili were in danger.
Bilbo nodded. With luck they wouldn't run into any more orcs. In the tower at least.
Thorin and Dwalin weren't where Bilbo had left them.
They were on the frozen river, fighting a band of orcs. Very clearly trying to reach the tower.
Bilbo suppressed a sigh. An effort to clear the route Bilbo would have taken Fili and Kili on, no doubt. But they should have more faith in his abilities by now.
Fili and Kili caught sight of Thorin and Dwalin hacking at the orcs and ran forward, drawing their own weapons.
Bilbo watched them for a moment. The fight turning in the dwarves' favour now Fili and Kili had joined the battle. He could join them, add his blade or launch iron shots from a distance to help them take the last orcs down.
But his dwarves were more than a match for common orcs.
Only white orcs had managed to kill them.
Bilbo stared up at the tower, the shadows near the outlook where Azog could be found.
He drew Sting and headed back into the tower.
Azog stood as if he had been waiting for him. A small smile on his face as he paced forward and started circling around Bilbo.
"Akashuga." Azog's eyes narrowed. "Shaataz. Snaag."
He remembered Bilbo from the warg attack. Bilbo could see it in his eyes, the calculating assessment that narrowed his gaze.
If it was meant to unnerve him, it didn't affect Bilbo. He had faced Azog too many times to be intimidated. He knew well the horror of being Azog's prey.
And his weaknesses.
Apparently bored with Bilbo's inaction, Azog made his move. He started forward, blade swinging in a wide arc intended to separate Bilbo's head from his body.
Bilbo darted sideways, avoiding the blow, and lunged forward, aiming for Azog's weaker side.
Azog's blade came around in a surprisingly fast vicious arc that Bilbo barely dodged. He retreated to more uneven ground, scrambling up onto a fallen block of stone and flinging an iron shot at the white orc.
Azog deflected it with a disdainful snarl, stalking Bilbo through the ruins of the tower.
It was fight pitting Azog's size and strength against Bilbo speed and agility. Bilbo used the ruins to his advantage, ducking behind listing fragments of wall and launching himself off fallen blocks of stone. Azog harried him with heavy blows, defecting Bilbo’s strikes with his superior strength, brushing Sting aside.
They battled on until they stumbled out onto the lip of stone overlooking the frozen river below.
"Bilbo!"
Thorin's cry was so unexpected, Bilbo made the mistake of looking away.
Azog was on him. His blade cutting across Bilbo’s chest, ripping through his coat to his mithril shirt. A retreating strike caught his leg, causing Bilbo to stumble. One large hand grasped him by his coat and lifted him high off the ground.
Bilbo twisted, swinging Sting. But Azog simply shook him hard, leaving Bilbo hanging, Sting fallen from his grasp.
"Torin undag Train-ob!" Azog shouted out the words, his voice a challenge.
Bilbo found himself swung around to face Thorin.
Thorin who had ground to a halt at the sight of Bilbo in Azog's grasp. He had broken free of the fighting. Dwalin, Fili and Kili still fought against a group of orcs behind him.
"Hon. Akashugalab. Lat turkta?" Azog spoke mockingly. He shook Bilbo again in emphasis. "Kulta turkûrz?"
Bilbo tried to claw at the hand that held him but Azog simply shook him again.
There was a scrape. A line of cold against his neck.
Azog's blade.
Bilbo stared at Thorin who had been halted only after a few steps.
"Ahk. Kulta." Azog sounded triumphant. He drew Bilbo back to his chest, blade falling away. His large hand held him still.
"Hon, Rani Khozdil." Azog drew him close, his moist breath fanning across the side of Bilbo's face.
Thorin stood below them, hand tight on his sword. Straining forward. Eyes desperate and wild.
Bilbo could practically feel the warmth of Azog's mouth close to his face.
Not again-
Bilbo twisted his head.
But not soon enough.
Azog's teeth tore into Bilbo's ear, ripping free.
Pain ripped down the side of his face, muffling Thorin's outraged bellow.
But Bilbo was used to it by now and knew Azog would be distracted in his triumph.
This time Bilbo wasn't so close to death that he couldn't inflict some damage.
Bilbo twisted in Azog's grasp, using the Fili's knife to thrust deep between Azog's ribs.
The white orc let out a roar, grip loosening.
Bilbo twisted free, hand still on the knife in Azog's side, tearing the wound open wide. Damage done, he tore the knife free, kicking off the orc's chest to land on the icy stone.
His leg gave out once his weight was on it. Bilbo crumpled. Sting glinted on the snow and Bilbo rolled, hand reaching for the hilt-
"Mat akashuga!" Azog lunged towards him.
-closing on it. With desperate strength, Bilbo thrust Sting upwards, aiming for Azog's unguarded throat.
The thin blade sank into Azog's flesh, spearing his neck and bursting out the back close to his spine.
Azog's eyes stared down at Bilbo, wide with disbelief.
He fell forward, one hand clawing up at the awful wound. Gasping wetly, blood a dark tide from his mouth.
His weight was like a hammer blow. Bilbo gasped for breath beneath him, expecting the white orc to do his best to kill the hobbit that had felled him.
But Sting was thrust to the hilt through Azog's throat. The pale orc didn't get up. He didn't move.
And Bilbo was trapped beneath him. Azog's blood was an increasing wetness in his hair, pooling beneath his neck. His flesh pressed grotesquely against his, crushing his chest and pushing the side of Bilbo's face into the snow. Pressing down on him in a suffocating weight that threatened to crush the life out of him-
"-ibo!"
"Bilbo!"
Bilbo blinked his eyes open in surprise, not even noticing they had closed. The sight he saw had Bilbo blinking again, not sure he could believe what he was seeing.
Thorin staggered closer, his expression one of desolation. His eyes were wet as he sank to his knees.
Thorin thought he was dead.
And he would be soon, if he couldn't get free of Azog's corpse.
Bilbo tried to say something but he couldn't draw in enough air. One of Bilbo's hands was partly free, though. Bilbo flexed his fingers, vaguely aware that the others had arrived.
"Bilbo!" Kili shouted out.
"He's alive!" It was Dwalin who barked the words. He slung his axes to his shoulders and grasped one of Azog's shoulders. "Here lads! Help me lift this filth!"
Fili and Kili rushed forward as Thorin staggered upright.
Dwalin said something in Khuzdul. Fili replied firmly, Kili more faintly.
Azog's weight shifted. Rocked and then-
Bilbo could breathe.
He sucked in a breath only to hiss it out again as he inadvertently shifted. Pain shot along his nerves, breath stealing and like a white explosion.
Bilbo drew in a small breath. A slightly larger one when the bolt of pain wasn't repeated.
"Bilbo."
Bilbo pried his eyes open at Thorin's soft utterance of his name.
He took in a shallow breath. "Thorin."
He scanned him, best as he could with Thorin kneeling at his side. There was blood on his hands and face, dark splatters across his clothes. But it didn't look like any of his.
As for Fili and Kili-
They were muttering to each other in Khuzdul, kneeling with Dwalin at his feet-
"What?" He tried to pull himself up, to see what Dwalin and the others were doing.
A large hand pressed down gently on his chest. Fili gave him a stern look. "Lie still, Bilbo."
That didn't sound good. He glanced up at Thorin's pale face. It probably looked a lot worse. Bilbo let himself be pushed back, wincing at the jagged pain that shot up his side and across his face.
A soft brush of fingers across his cheek had his attention turning back to Thorin. "Bilbo-" Thorin’s eyes caught on the side of Bilbo's face and he froze, expression becoming pained.
Oh. His ear. Or what was left of it.
"Kili."
There was a ripping sound.
Kili knelt down on his other side. "Bilbo." The greeting was filled with forced cheerfulness. There was a soft grating sound as he dug up a handful of snow. "This will sting a bit," he continued awkwardly, "but it should stop the bleeding."
It more than stung.
Bilbo hissed in a breath, pain flaring as Kili pressed the cloth-wrapped snow to the remnants of his ear. His hands clenched, teeth gritted against the pain. But slowly it faded, the cold of the snow numbing his ear and the side of his face.
He suddenly realised that one of his hands wasn't empty. He had Thorin's large hand in his grasp.
He relaxed his grip, certain Thorin would slip his hand free.
But he didn't. Thorin held his gaze, a small smile fighting against the worry writ large on his face.
"And my leg?"
There was a moment of silence. Thorin's fingers twitched in his grasp before stilling.
"Azog gave you a nasty cut. Nothing too serious." Kili smiled unconvincingly. "Fili's just about to bind it."
"And splint it." Dwalin added gruffly.
There was something they weren't telling him. Bilbo gazed up at Thorin's face. The grim lines and the constant wetness of his eyes.
Thorin never dealt with his impending death very well.
There was a faint cry.
Bilbo's gaze lifted.
A bird glided overhead. An impossibly large bird.
"The eagles are coming." It was a soft whisper, the movement of his lips pulling at the cut across his face.
Bilbo didn't care. They would be safe now. His dwarves would live even if he did not.
Fili tightened the bandages.
Bilbo's vision whited out and he didn't fight it.
His eyes were heavy, his body like lead. Bilbo wondered if he was still lying on the ice, cold holding him still, a slow leeching death.
Bilbo pried his eyes open. Stone met his gaze. His eyes fell shut.
Stone.
Not pale sky. Stone, not wood.
Bilbo's eyes shot open. He floundered up, letting out a gasp as pain flared.
"Easy Bilbo!" The words were strangely muffled. Large hands pressed him back down on the bed. "Easy."
Bilbo stared at their owner in disbelief. Thorin. Thorin was here.
Alive.
This-This couldn't be right.
"Those stitches are still healing." Oin reprimanded, stepping into view. He leaned over the bed, examining the side of Bilbo's face.
The bandages, Bilbo realised, a hand reaching up.
"Enough of that now, lad." Oin laid his hand back on the bed. "We had a bad enough time of it stopping you from scratching at it during the fever."
Thorin's hand had wrapped around his at some point. It tightened its grasp.
"Fever?" Bilbo felt like he still had one, his thoughts were so heavy and slow moving. It would certainly explain the ache that was his body.
Except for his leg. Bilbo eyed the too-large lump under his blankets. He had a feeling that it would be much worse than an ache if he tried to move it.
Oin made a noise of agreement, following Bilbo's gaze. "Orc filth. Azog's blade was coated with the stuff." He shook his head. "Not a pretty sight and worse to clean."
"Oin." Thorin's voice was low but it held a note of warning.
"Eh?" Oin caught Thorin's expression and nodded. "We managed to save it with Tharkun's help." He continued with a reassuring pat to the knee. "You should regain full use of it with time."
Bilbo stared at his leg. He knew how bad it had been. He’d thought Azog's wound would kill him. (He still wasn't quite sure it hadn't. Was this another repeat?) He might walk again but his leg would never look the same.
His ear certainly wouldn't.
"Couldn't do much about the ear." Oin peered into his eyes, pressing a light hand to his forehead for a moment before he nodded to himself with satisfaction. "You'll have to resign yourself to share that with Dwalin."
"Oh." Bilbo felt rather faint as he pictured his ear missing the same chunk Dwalin's did.
But it was better than missing his ear entirely. Bilbo shivered. He could still remember the feel of the side of his head without an ear, the flesh around it torn down to bone-
"Bilbo." Thorin's hand had tightened, squeezing his fingers.
Bilbo's eyes slid to fix on Thorin's face. There was a healing cut alongside his eye but otherwise he looked well.
Aside from the darkened circles under his eyes, new lines around his mouth, Thorin looked as he had when he had entered Bag End.
Part of an ear was nothing. His leg was nothing as long as Thorin and the others were alive. "Fili and Kili?"
Something in Thorin's expression relaxed slightly. "Well. If I hadn't sent them away, you would have woken to find them camped at your bedside."
Oin let out a snort. He set aside one of the glass bottles he had been examining. "I'll be back to bring you a tonic in half a bell. Don't strain yourself while I'm gone." With that he let himself out of the room.
It was large room, now that he was seeing it. Thick rugs lay on the stone floor, a fire blazed in the large hearth on the other side of the room. It picked out the mosaics in the walls, metal and gems.
Bilbo blinked.
"Bilbo." The hand wrapped around his was holding tight again.
Bilbo turned to find Thorin staring him, his eyes downcast, his mouth pulled down in pained expression. He met Bilbo's gaze with desperate earnestness. "I am sorry for my actions at the gate. I-"
He cut off, eyes wide as he stared down at where Bilbo had twisted his hand, catching Thorin's in his own.
"You were not yourself, Thorin." How long had it been since he had seen Thorin as himself. Bilbo blinked rapidly. "There is nothing to forgive."
He tightened his grip, forestalling Thorin when he would speak again. "If anything, I should apologise. I took the Arkenstone. I should have found another way." He hadn't been able to find one but that didn't mean there wasn't a choice that could have avoided battle.
Or even Thorin's dragon sickness.
"You acted as a true friend, Bilbo." Thorin’s other hand came up to cover Bilbo’s. "More than a friend. You have slain the enemy of my line. Saved my sister's-sons. Helped to reclaim the kingdom of my people." Thorin's voice was soft as he gazed at Bilbo in open fondness. "Given them a home."
Bilbo's throat was tight.
"And you have given me something beyond price." Thorin's smile lit his entire face with its warmth. Happy in a way Bilbo had seldom seen.
Bilbo stared at him, unable to say anything as Thorin reached into the neck of his rich tunic.
Thorin opened his hand, pressing something smooth and round into Bilbo's palm. "I believe you were going to help me plant this."
Bilbo turned his hand, still cradled in Thorin's, palm up. An acorn sat in his palm.
"You won back our home, Bilbo Baggins." Thorin smiled, his fingers stroking the back of Bilbo's hand. "And I would be honoured if you called it your own."
The Shire, Bilbo thought. But it was an automatic reaction, a thought and little else. The rolling green hills and gently bending streams of his memory were beloved but they had been left behind. And Bilbo, changed as he was, could not go back to them.
Bag End was no longer the home it had been. He had travelled far beyond the Shire's boundaries.
He wouldn't fit in Shire life again, half an ear missing and his leg heavily scarred.
Having found one dwarf he couldn't leave.
Bilbo closed his hand, clasping the Thorin's fingers and holding the acorn between their palms. "I suspect it will take some time to find the right place to plant it." Bilbo cleared his throat, the movement sending dull pain through the side of his face. "Oaks need a lot of space after all. Open sky and plenty of soil."
Thorin's smile broke into a wide grin. "I will have to help you. To find a suitable location."
Bilbo eyed him narrowly, trying to resist giving into the bubbles of happiness that were growing in his chest. "I would have thought you would be busy with repairs to the mountain." Overseeing the aftermath of the battle.
Though if Oin was to be believed, Bilbo must have slept through most of that.
"My cousin Dain is overseeing the mountain in my absence." He gave Bilbo a warm amused smile. "For now I am at your disposal, my burglar."
Bilbo's face warmed at the endearment. The tightness of his throat threatened to become worse. Bilbo swallowed hard. "I have one request."
Thorin's eyebrows rose, mouth curving in a small smile. "Only one?"
Bilbo smiled back, unable to stop himself responding to Thorin's good humour. Not wanting to.
"Stay with me." Bilbo could feel himself colour at the words. Thorin stared at him wide eyed and Bilbo hurried to explain himself. "Until I wake up." He squirmed against his bed, stilling as it jarred his ear. "So I know this isn't all just a dream..." He trailed off, embarrassed and unable to meet Thorin's gaze.
His heart sank as the silence stretched. Perhaps Thorin-
Thorin's hands closed over his, warm and large.
He was smiling, his eyes soft when Bilbo met his gaze.
"Nothing would please me more, my burglar."
Bilbo relaxed back in the mattress, letting his eyes drift closed. His hands still clasped in Thorin's. Reassured that when he awoke Thorin would be there.
They were all alive. Fili. Kili.
Thorin.
Whatever curse he had been under, the loop had been broken.
It was a new day. And there much to live for.
His world was now much more than books and maps.
EPILOGUE
The Ring sat in Bilbo Baggin's pocket.
It had failed to break its bearer. An effort that had drained its strength. Forcing the Halfling to tread the path of the worst possibilities had been a battle. The Halfling had resisted every step, his thoughts twisting each scenario to his advantage, until even the Ring could not steer his mind to despairing paths. It had lost.
But it had time. There would be another time of crisis it could use to slip into the Halfling’s mind and wear down his will.
The Ring had waited a long time for its master's return. It could wait a little longer.
END
~x~X~x~
Black Speech:
Ziimarp! - 'Coward!'
Khozdayil. - 'Dwarf-scum.'
Azultul! - 'Kill them!'
Akashuga. - 'Halfling.'
Shaataz. Snaag.. 'Troublemaker. Weak.'
Torin undag Train-ob! - 'Thorin son of Thrain!'
Hon. Akashugalab. Lat turkta? - 'Look. Your halfing. Do you value him?'
Kulta turkûrz? - 'Is he valuable?'
Ahk. Kulta. - 'Yes. He is.'
Hon, Rani Khozdil. - 'Watch, Dwarf King.'
Mat akashuga! 'Die halfling!'
~x~X~x~
So, not a time travel fic after all XD
I hope you survived wading through all the angst. But I hope the ending (before the reveal) made up for it somewhat.
~x~X~x~
