Chapter Text
"Master Baggins! Master Baggins, it's time to get up!"
Gentle shaking of his shoulder slowly dragged him into consciousness, a soft and hesitant voice reaching him in the smokey dark.
With a groan, Bilbo opened his eyes and moaned at the aches in his body. He felt like he hadn't slept a wink and a dull undercurrent of pain had settled itself deep in his bones.
"Master Baggins?"
"Yes, yes, I'm up Ori. Just feeling slow this morning." He sat up, smiling tiredly at the hesitant Dwarf in front of him, getting a shy one in return. He really did adore Ori, he was so sweet and gentle but had the strength of steel under his skin. Bilbo couldn't wait to see the young Dwarf discover that for himself.
"These pampered Hobbits don't know a thing about proper travellin'." Came Dwalin's rough sneer.
"Oh go suck a nettle you old boot!" He snapped back, relishing in the huge warriors look of shock and the laughter from the other Dwarves, he rose to his feet, brushing off his clothes and winking at a gaping Ori.
The usual morning routine passed quickly, they ate what Bombur prepared, happily helped along by Bilbo. Once again, food had been the key and finally, after some prompting and encouragement, the Hobbit and Dwarf enjoyed a lovely conversation, Bofur merrily interjecting from where he was sat by the fire eagerly awaiting his breakfast.
Far too soon, the simple but tasty meal was done, the camp packed up and Bilbo once more had to mount his pony and head off. As much as he liked his sweet little mount, he most certainly did not enjoy riding. Hobbits were not made to be off the ground; much preferring to walk, feeling the good earth beneath their feet. Not to mention the fact his entire body felt like one huge bruise.
"If you dont mind me asking Master Baggins... I'm not sure how to put this, but you don't really... look like I expected."
He looked over at Bombur, sat on his, well, his slightly unfortunate mount, wringing his hands awkwardly. Bilbo smiled at him reassuringly. "And how did you expect me to look then Master Dwarf?"
Bombur sneaked a look to his brothers for support, both of whom were riding suspiciously close and very obviously focusing hard on anything but the conversation. Meaning of course, they were listening to every word.
"Well, you err, you aren't exactly as...plump as the rest of the Hobbits. They all looked to have eaten many a good meal and you... don't."
Bilbo opened his mouth to respond and was quickly interrupted by the Dwarves earnest voice. "I only ask 'cause I wondered if you were ill or needed anythin' in particular. I don't like to see anyone looking underfed and unhealthy. But of course, I apologise if it was too forward of me to ask."
It wasn't often that Bilbo found himself speechless, but this was certainly one of those times. He just gawped at the rotund Dwarf for a few seconds, mouth opening and shutting as he tried to think of something to say. It was a surprise, not only to know that the quiet Dwarf had noticed all that, but also that he cared to ask if he could help. They may have had a few short conversations over the cooking pot but he certainly didn't expect his friend to care about him just yet.
"Oh dear, oh I've gone an buggered this all up haven't I. I really am sorry Master Baggins. I didn' mean any offence."
Shaking himself out of his surprise, Bilbo cleared his throat and tried for a reassuring smile.
"No no, you haven't offended me Master Dwarf. I'm just... surprised is all. I didn't expect for anyone to notice anything much about me, let alone care. So, err, thank you for that I suppose."
Bofur, who had given up all pretence of ignoring the conversation, exchanged a look with Bombur. They both had a strange expression on their faces.
"But as for your question, yes I suppose I do look a bit different from my fellows. Hobbits usually eat about seven meals a day, we burn through energy quickly you see. But I haven't eaten that much in a long time and I suppose it's started to show."
More odd looks. "But you had all tha' food in your pantry! And you're an excellent cook! If I 'ad all tha', I'd be bigger than Bombur!"
Even though he knew they meant nothing by it, Bilbo couldn't help but feel a rush of shame burn through him. How must they see him? These brave dwarves who'd lost everything they ever had, wandering throughout Middle Earth, frequently starving. And there he was; a pampered Hobbit, wealthy, a large home and more food than he could ever need. There he was, taking all of that for granted and refusing food that they would give an arm and a leg for. How dare he?
"Well...I haven't had that much food in my pantry for a long while now you see, I just stocked up for you lot. We Hobbits hate wasting food, so I haven't really had a lot in," he tried to explain quietly, something inside him twisting at the thought of them seeing him as a food waster, one of the worst things a Hobbit could be.
Bombur was ringing his hands, throwing looks at his brother before he spoke again. "Is there...any reason you haven' been eating? Are you sure you aren't sick? Should I do somethin', anythin'?"
"Oh no, nothing to worry about. Just, not much apatite really..." he trailed off, uncertain of what to say to the very people who had caused him to stop eating. It was a very strange situation and Bilbo was starting to look for a way out of the conversation.
"Are yo-"
"Bilbo!" Came a call from a few ponies behind, turning around in his seat to see Ori waving to him. "Could I just pick your brains for a second?"
Feeling a rush of guilty relief, the Hobbit turned back to the Ur brothers and made his apologies. Probably swifter than was polite to be honest, but they didn't seem to mind, before he moved Myrtle out of the line and dropped back to ride next to Ori.
"You seemed like you needed rescuing," he said under his breath, a shy smile on his face.
"I really did Ori." Bilbo admitted with a laugh, sighing in relief. As much as he loved his friends, and truly appreciated their efforts to get to know him more, it was an avenue of conversation he just wasn't comfortable with. It was too raw.
The best thing about travelling with Ori, is that whilst he was always great conversation, he was equally as happy to just be together in companionable silence. It allowed Bilbo a few moments of distraction before giving him space to think over his situation.
It was a curious business, how nothing about him changed when he travelled to each place; his injuries, aches and body came with him. It seemed to indicate that he stayed the same, even as his surroundings and times changed. Perhaps Bilbo himself was some sort of fixed point? And what happened to his body? He was sure he didn't simply vanish or his Dwarves would certainly have noticed, so was his body simply vacant whilst he was awake in the other place?
How did he wake up in another time with a Ring clutched in his hand that he only had in the other?
There were so many questions going round and round his head and simply not enough information to formulate any answers. And not having answers always drove Bilbo mad.
The rest of the day passed fairly easy as far as travelling goes. Snippets of conversation and laughter passed up and down the line, Fili and Kili frequently breaking rank and making their way round everyone, usually to cause some sort of trouble. They really should learn to pick their battles, as for some reason, Kili decided it would be a great idea for Fili to distract Dwalin whilst he subtly attempted to pick a knife from the huge warriors pack.
This of course ended with Dwalin grabbing his arm, twisting it and knocking him from his horse, all without breaking eye contact or conversation with Fili.
Squawking and vowing to one day liberate that knife, Kili clambered back onto his horse and fell back giggling with his brother, as though he hadn't just failed spectacularly.
Shaking his head at their antics, Bilbo felt his heart lighten considerably, falling back into his usual routine of quietly watching his Dwarves. It was easier that way; he could pretend that they were still the Dwarves he'd so recently left. That they still had shared memories together, still cared for each other equally. From quietly at the sidelines, he didn't have to remember that these Dwarves didn't really know him yet.
The day drew on, as it always did, counting down till the time he would have to leave them and return to his lonely little life in the Shire. For a while, he believed that was the cause of the sinking, growing pit in his stomach, but soon, the sense of dread was too strong to ignore or pass off as something else.
Despite the warm light of the evening, Bilbo felt a darkness following him, closing in slowly on all sides. His heart beat sped up, muscles growing tight with tension. Looking around, he couldn't see any sign of the Dwarves feeling the same way; still laughing and talking as normal. Yet he felt as though danger was closing in, its clammy, inescapable hand gripping his throat.
The Ring burned cold and throbbed in his pocket, but with the almost overwhelming feeling of panic, he barely noticed.
Somehow, he knew, Death was waiting around the corner. Waiting to tear into his whole world once more and swallow it whole.
"Halt! We'll camp here for tonight."
Thorin's voice drew him from his panic for a brief second, drawing his gaze to him like a moth to a flame. Then he saw it; the farmhouse. The destroyed farmhouse.
Of course. Trolls.
How could he be so stupid as to forget! This was the night they fought the trolls. But why the terror? Why the blinding fear and growing sense of darkness, of death? They'd fought them once before and had won, surely they could do it again?
But no, something deep inside him was telling him, screaming at him that this time would be different. He just knew.
Perhaps? Perhaps if he made them move on a little further, just away from where he knew the Trolls would be coming through, seeing the ponies and then taking them. Maybe they could avoid them all together?
No of course not, they needed the contents of their horde didn't they? The idea of Thorin continuing on this Quest without his Orcrist was almost obscene as well as absurd. And besides, Bilbo was loath to leave his beloved Sting behind lost and forgotten beneath the filth of Trolls. That little sword had seen him through much, and it just seemed unlucky to abandon it now.
Okay, so they somehow had to manage to avoid the Trolls, but also make it into their cave. And the only time they'd be out of their cave would either be at night, or if they were dead.
Well, that sounded very easy didn't it, Bilbo thought, shaking his head. The Dwarves were dismounting and he knew the best thing to do would be to move further on, reduce the risk of attracting the Trolls. Then he could find a way to get to the cave. A half baked plan it might be, but that was all he currently had.
"Err, excuse me?" Nothing, they didn't even look up. Clearing his throat, he tried again.
"Hello! I really don't think we should stop here." Still nothing. Sod it then.
"OI!" His loud shout finally got their attention, every Dwarf and one bemused wizard turned to face him.
"Finally! Now look, I really think we should find somewhere else to camp for the night."
Thorin raised one eyebrow that perfectly showed his almost amused contempt, as he put down the bag he'd been moving and stepped forward to loom over the Hobbit.
"Oh really? And why would you think that? Please enlighten us to your expertise on the subject."
Well if he thought that would work, he's got another think coming. Hands on his hips, Bilbo stared straight into those piercing blue eyes and injected as much sarcasm as possible into his voice.
"Hmm, it might have something to do with the fact that the farmhouse over there has recently been ransacked and burnt down! With no sign of its former occupants. Not to mention the whole area looking trampled! But I don't know, I'm just a Hobbit. Maybe an utterly destroyed home is a good sign!"
A few Dwarves had sudden coughing fits as Thorin's other eyebrow lifted to join the first. As dire as the situation felt, Bilbo had to admit that surprising Thorin always gave him such a rush of entertainment.
"Look," he continued, when it appeared Thorin wasn't going to reply. "I'm fully aware that you all know what you're doing, but I just can't help but feel this is a very bad idea. We have no idea what recently did that to the house and whatever did might still be nearby. I've just... I've got a bad feeling about it okay? So can we move a bit further on? Please?"
He continued to stare at Thorin, eyes all but pleading with him to listen. The bad feeling, the terror inside him was rising with every moment of light they lost.
Finally, Thorin inclined his head and turned to the waiting Company. "Fine, we will move further on."
Looking back at Bilbo, he drawled "Happy now Mister Baggins?"
Beaming, Bilbo nodded. A strange look passed over Thorin's face, almost... no, it couldn't possibly be a small blush. Probably just a trick of the light.
Coughing, Thorin gruffly replied, "Well good. Now get a move on and help."
Beaming once more, Bilbo all but skipped off to the waiting Company, hardly noticing their surprised faces.
Packing up what few things they'd begun to remove from their ponies took only a few moments thankfully, and they were mounted and moving on swiftly. With every inch they moved away from that farmhouse, he felt a little better. The fear didn't leave him entirely, but he was grateful not to be in the exact spot they were last time. It just felt far too much like tempting fate, daring it to do better this time around.
There was still one problem though, one that still gnawed at his insides; how would he manage to resist sleep for long enough to make sure everything would be okay? The sun would go down soon, already beginning its descent. They would eat, talk and then the urge would start, till it was almost unbearable and he'd be lost to the other world, leaving his Dwarves to face everything alone.
There was only one thing for it, he would have to resist the Ring, resist the call to sleep for as long as possible. Yavanna knew he'd suffer for it when he woke up back in the Shire, but if it would save his Dwarves, he would do it without question. He would do anything.
"Is this acceptable to you Master Hobbit?"
Thorin's dry question jolted him from his plans. Repressing a smirk, Bilbo made a show of looking around, examining the terrain both for show and internally, to actually see if it seemed safe. Deeming it good enough for the night, he turned back to Thorin with a smile.
"Yes thank you Master Dwarf, I think it looks safe enough."
Raising an eyebrow, Thorin nodded regally. "I'm overjoyed."
Turning to hide his grin, Bilbo dismounted and joined the rest of the Company in setting up camp. The clogging feeling of fear was still there, but it was easy to get lost in the hustle and bustle of his friends; their loud conversations, the smell of food on the go, Fili and Kili causing trouble as always, the faint but comforting grumble of Thorin and Balin talking.
Luckily, their new camp had plenty of space to tie the ponies within eyesight, something that brought Bilbo great relief. Maybe not having the ponies so close to the Trolls cooking site would mean they'd simply pass them by, find some other poor thing to cook and eat.
But still, how would they retrieve their swords? There was nothing else for it, Bilbo would have to do it himself. The sun had nearly finished setting, and as soon as night fell, the Trolls would leave their cave, off in search of food. It was a half baked plan but the only thing Bilbo could think to do was wait near their horde until he saw them leave, run in, take their swords and hightail it back to the camp.
Yes, that might work. He would tell the Company he was taking a walk, just happen across the Trolls horde and like the look of some swords to bring back for them. What's more, he would then have an excuse to warn them Trolls were in the area. Then once he believed they'd taken enough cautions, he could finally give in to the urge to sleep knowing they were more aware and ready than they would have been otherwise. He would still worry himself sick until he saw them again, but it was the best he could do.
Feeling slightly better with something resembling a plan, Bilbo sat back and waited for a few more minutes, until the sun was almost completely down, bathing the camp in a dark blue gossamer blanket, dulling details and making everything seem smaller than it was, the whole world compacted into the circle of firelight, everything outside of it a mystery.
Deeming it late enough, he rose and brushed himself off, heading over to the few Dwarves milling about the cooking pot. They greeted him as he approached, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest.
"Evenin' Bilbo! I must say, little old you standin' up and givin' Thorin his orders, tha' was a sight to see!"
Bilbo grinned and nodded his head at Bofur. "Oh you know, it just didn't seem right and I had to at least try. Just grateful he listened to be honest."
"Oh aye, so were we! I'd die for him, I would. But he is as stubborn as rock sometimes. If he's listenin' to you already, I think this Quest might go better than I expected!"
Feeling warm at the praise, he ducked his head blushing. Though it also did make him think for a moment; Thorin had listened to him at a time when, in the original Quest, he couldn't even say a civil word to him. Maybe things could be changed if he managed that!
Forcing himself back on track, he turned to Bombur, stood at the cooking pot as always. "Erm Bombur, I don't want to overstep, but I remember seeing some wild mushrooms a little way back that I think would go lovely with tonight's meal. I was thinking of going getting them."
His friends face lit up, never one to reject help or others opinions. "Oh that would be very nice, thank you Bilbo!"
Feeling slightly guilty that he would be bringing back swords, not mushrooms, he smiled and began to walk away.
"Wait Bilbo, you probably shouldn' just go wanderin' off by yourself! Anythin' could happen! I'll come with you if you like?"
Panicking, he turned back to his friend, Bofur stood with a wide smile on his face as always, perfectly earnest in his offer to help.
"Oh no no, it's fine. I'm perfectly fine! I err, I can't quite remember exactly where they are so I'll, err, I'll have to track them you see, and you Dwarves can be rather loud you know, what with your boots and everything."
The scepticism on Bofur's face could have stripped paint. "You have to... track mushrooms..."
"Erm well, it's a Hobbit thing you see. We're very connected to the earth and can tune in to it. It's, sort of private though you know?"
That did the trick. "Oh! Needn't say anymore Bilbo, I understand completely. Just be careful!"
Thanking his friend, he all but snuck out of camp, not wishing to encounter anymore generous offers of help or, in some Dwarves' cases, an order to stay where he was.
The sun was moments away from being fully set, so Bilbo quickened his pace and headed straight for where he knew the Troll horde to be. It wasn't as far away as he'd have liked, but he still hurried to reach it. He wanted to be there the moment they left their vile hole, then he could collect the swords and see if he could pick up a clue as to which direction they would go.
And if they happened to be going the direction of the camp, Bilbo knew he could easily lure them into turning around and following some strange small creature. One who happened to be much quicker and far cleverer than themselves.
Bilbo plunged deeper into the trees, the silence falling around him, blanketing him in unease. His steps were all but silent as he headed towards the horde. Surprisingly his fear for himself was all but nonexistent, he would happily waltz into the worst of dangers to ensure the safety of his friends. The only thing sending his heart racing was the thought of being unable to resist the call to sleep, leaving his friends defenceless.
Night fell completely at last and noises erupted from not far ahead, heavy thumps Bilbo knew to be footsteps and the sounds of cracking as they broke any branches in their paths.
The Trolls had left their horde.
Speeding up, he ran through the trees until they were finally in sight. Ducking behind a fallen log, Bilbo watched the final Troll leave the dank darkness of their cave, crowding together.
As Bilbo watched them, he couldn't help but notice...something. He wasn't sure what it was, but they seemed different. The Trolls he knew were bumbling, if still dangerous, idiots. But these? They moved different; they seemed quicker, power evident in every swing of their arms and stomp of their feet, each also seeming to have more than the filleting knife and rough blade he'd seen before. They had brutal looking daggers, a club with jagged shards of metal sticking out of it and each had a bundle of rough sacks and rope tied to their belts.
Unease began to rise in him, the sick sensation of true fear washing over him, just as it had at the campsite.
One of the Trolls, William if he remembered rightly, was swinging his head side to side, as if he was scenting something. The other two shifting on their tree trunk legs, attention focused on him, like hounds awaiting their orders.
Moving as one, their heads shot up, expressions blank and terrifying, devoid of the personalities he'd seen last time. Bilbo froze in place, heart pounding so hard he was sure they must be able to hear it.
"Dwarf." William ground out, voice like rumbling boulders as Bilbo's breathing stopped. How? How could they know they were there?
With little to no warning they began to move towards the camp, their focus so strong they didn't seem to acknowledge anything else around them, stomping through fallen tree trunks and low hanging branches alike, never changing their course or speed.
The second Bilbo saw them pass him, he shot out from his hiding place, panic shooting through his every nerve. He was so stupid! His friends were sat at camp now with no idea what was heading towards them, all because Bilbo thought he was clever enough to avoid the Trolls all together. He should have found some way to warn them!
No, he needed to calm down and think. He was on the clock, every moment passing brought him closer and closer to feeling the call to sleep. He had to fix this before then, or who knows what might happen.
Shooting into the mouth of the cave, he gagged at the foul air inside, trying so very hard not to think about what he could feel himself stepping on. Bilbo had never been properly inside the cave, choosing last time to stay away from the foul place, but now he couldn't help but marvel at the huge amount of things they'd collected. Piles of treasure were strewn about, shields and armour half buried under filth and bones. There would be an absolute fortune in here, if anyone was brave enough to clear it all out.
But that wasn't what he was here for, he needed to find the swords and get back to his friends. Darting to a stand of swords at the back, Bilbo immediately recognised the distinctive hilt of Orcrist.
For a moment, he froze. His last memory of that sword was seeing it clasped in the hand of his beloved before he was returned to the stone. But no, that would not happen this time, it would not! This time the only place he would see that sword was in the very, very alive hands of its rightful owner as he burned bright and beautiful on his quest to reclaim his home, his birthright and his throne. Bilbo would accept nothing else.
Pulling the sword free he staggered slightly under its length and weight, before looping the strap over his shoulder, settling the large sword over his back. It was almost as tall as he was, so adding another large sword would not be fun for the sprint back to camp, but needs must! Grabbing Glamdring, conveniently located right next to Orcrist, he somehow managed to loop the strap over his other shoulder, the two long swords now crisscrossing over his back.
There, two down, one to go. Bilbo cast about, his keen eyes looking everywhere, each second that passed increasing his panic and intense need to get back to his friends. Where was his little Sting in this blasted cave? He couldn't see it with any of the other swords or stacked with the armour.
Darting around the cave once more, desperation finally won out. He'd have to leave Sting behind for now, even though his heart ached to do it. It seemed silly to be so attached to sharpened metal, beautiful though it was; but Sting had gotten him through so much that it almost felt unlucky, a bad omen to go into any fight without it.
But needs must. Shifting the swords on his back to a more comfortable position, Bilbo sped out of the filthy darkness of the cave, the fresh air hitting him like the sweetest lemonade after a long hot day of gardening, before he took a deep breath and began to jog as quick as he could back to camp.
It was cumbersome to say the least, but once he'd picked up a rhythm, Bilbo was able to gain more speed and soon began to hear faint sounds from up ahead.
Following the noises of a dying scuffle, Bilbo reached their camp, hiding behind an overturned log he saw the three Trolls, hardly speaking; just grunts and growls as they tied up the defeated Dwarves, so unlike the Trolls he'd known before.
Guilt and anger flooded through him; anger that the filthy Trolls would dare touch the people he loved, and guilt for leaving them so undefended. He should have found some way to let them know about the Trolls, prepared them somehow for the possibility of fighting them. Instead, Bilbo had run off, thinking himself clever enough to get the swords without having to risk a fight with the Trolls. Thanks to him, the Company were caught totally unawares, the blasted creatures coming to them and not the other way around.
"...is...it?"
Moving closer, silent even on such large feet, Bilbo listened to the Troll's stilted, broken glass and gravel voice. He seemed to be asking the Dwarves for something, something that by the looks on their faces, they obviously didn't have.
"We have nothing you vile swine, now let us go before I strike the heads from your bodies!"
Ah yes, the calm and reasonable response of their dear leader. Of course that would work Thorin, why wouldn't it?
"...give us or...we...break you."
See? Worked like a charm.
Aaaand now the rest were joining in. Shouts of insults and threats rang out, more futile attempts to escape. It was obvious they wouldn't get out of this on their own, and it was becoming very apparent that they were being held for a higher purpose than simply being eaten. Meaning it would be a lot harder to trick these Trolls, or simply even distract them until dawn.
Speaking of, where on this good earth was Gandalf? Bilbo had tried specifically to make sure that Gandalf didn't go stomping off just so he'd be there if anything happened! Honestly, did he have to do everything himself?
Luckily he hadn't been captured at least, which left the only option of him hanging around like Bilbo was, waiting for dawn or for some kind of plan. He could try and find the blasted wizard and come up with something, but it just didn't seem like he had enough time. The Trolls needed distracting now and he trusted his old friend enough to be able to adapt to any situation, just as he had the first time.
Well then, all Bilbo had to do was distract the Trolls till dawn. Simple.
"Unhand him now you miserable, foul creature! Put him down!"
Thorin's angry growl rang out clearly, tinged with enough fear to draw Bilbo's attention immediately. He only ever sounded like that when one of his nephews was in danger.
Looking back, sure enough, Bill had a hold of Kili in his large hand. One wrong move and he had no doubt that the Troll would crush the young Dwarf as easily as one could a grape. And it would destroy the hearts of every single member of the Company, Bilbo included.
"Give us now...or he dies..."
"We don't know what you want! We have nothing you could possibly want!" Thorin was panicking now, though you'd have to know him well to realise it.
"Argh!" Kili struggled in the Trolls grip as his hand slowly tightened, terrible gasps leaving his mouth, twisted in pain as he tried to draw air into his screaming lungs.
"Kili! Let him go please!"
Hearing Fili's anguish, Bilbo had to move. He had no plan but if he waited any longer, the young Dwarf would die horribly right in front of them.
Leaping out from his hiding place, he rushed into the clearing, stopping right in front of the three Trolls.
"Err excuse me! Could you please stop squeezing that Dwarf for a moment? He'll burst if you carry on much longer and believe me, you wouldn't want Dwarf guts getting all over your hand! Toxic that stuff is!"
The Troll tilted his head to the side, staring hard at the Hobbit. But he did loosen his grasp a little, allowing Kili to heave in great lung fulls of air. Relief rushed through Bilbo, but he knew he wasn't out of danger yet.
"You...you feel like...darkness. You know where it is..."
The rock slide sound of William's voice was tinged in malice, as his eyes burrowed into Bilbo. So he was looking for something and seemed to think Bilbo knew, okay, he could work with that.
"And what exactly is it you're looking for? I'm very skilled at finding things you know? In fact, it's my speciality. How about you drop the Dwarf and I'll find it for you. It's obviously very important."
His heart was pounding, the screaming in the back of his head increasing constantly. He needed to sleep, to leave this place and return to Hobbiton, but he refused to give in. It could wait. He'd deal with the consequences later.
"Bilb-" Thorin began, but stopped as the Hobbit threw him a warning glance. The Trolls couldn't know he was connected to the Dwarves.
"You... know..."
Oh sod it. "Yes, yes I know," he said placatingly. He needed to get Kili away from that thing before he realised none of them had any clue what he was on about.
"I know exactly what it is and where it is and if you drop the Dwarf, I'll get it for you."
The Dwarves held their breath, Bilbo held his breath, Kili unfortunately was having his breath held for him, but finally, the Troll nodded and his hand loosened.
Kili sucked in air again, looking dizzy. Unfortunately, the Troll obviously didn't care enough to set him down on the ground. Bilbo realised what was going to happen, rushing forward just as Bill opened his hand and dropped Kili like a rag doll.
This was going to hurt. Bilbo made it just in time, trying to grab the falling Dwarf or at least break his fall. With a clatter of metal and a groan, Bilbo grabbed his young friend, ending up half underneath him as the impressively dense weight of a Dwarf landed on him.
That was unpleasant. It was a good thing Hobbits were stronger and sturdier than they looked because by Yavanna, Dwarves were heavy buggers.
Ignoring the shouts from the others, Bilbo heaved himself from underneath Kili, laying him out to check on him. Damn, he was in and out of consciousness, drowsy from the lack of oxygen and a cut on his forehead. Bilbo must have just missed his head, letting it get banged on one of the many rocks that littered the ground.
Smacking his face slightly, Bilbo felt relief flood through him as the Dwarf opened his eyes.
"Bilbo?" He muttered. "How did I get down here?"
Smiling, he leant close to his ear under the guise of checking his head and breathing.
"No time for that. Now listen, these things are obviously after something. I'm going to try and lead them off either all together or one by one. You need to pass the message on to the rest of the Company. Gandalf is still out there and I trust him to help when I present him with the right opportunity. Dawn can't be far off. Do you understand?"
Kili nodded, out of it but still a trained warrior. Bilbo needed to know he had someone in on it with him.
"Okay, now in a moment, pretend to be unconscious. Do you have a knife or something?"
He shook his head ever so slightly. "No they made us drop our weapons, but if I can get to Fili, he'll have plenty still stashed on him. Much like yourself apparently!"
"Story for later I'm afraid," he replied with a grin. "Okay, we best get moving then. Try and cut all the bonds you can but don't make a move until you're either desperate or there's a good opening. I watched these things move, they're faster than they should be."
Nodding again, he did a rather impressive swoon, head falling back on the floor with a thump. Well that was probably unpleasant considering the knock his thick scull had already taken, but points for commitment.
"Thank you for releasing him, there really was no reason to keep him around when I can help you with everything. I'm afraid he's completely passed out though. I didn't know Dwarves were so weak! Or more likely you're just much stronger than this little thing."
The Troll let out a pleased sounding grumble, Bilbo nearly smirking when he felt a sharp pinch on his thigh, a gift from his indignant friend.
"Well then, how about I just drag him over there and tie him up yes? Then they're all out of the way and we can set off!"
Not chancing him saying no, Bilbo stood up anyway, grabbing Kili under his arms and dragging him with a grunt. Blimey they really were heavy. Desperation and adrenaline gave him enough strength to get him over to the others swiftly. Conscious of all the Trolls eyes on him, he couldn't chance speaking.
Instead he brought Kili right in front of where his brother was trussed up, manoeuvring them close enough that Kili would be able to subtly get to Fili's knives without the trolls seeing. He mimed tying him up and winked at Fili, easing the look of worry on his face.
Standing up he steeled himself, once more catching Thorin's eyes. Forget the Trolls, he was very nearly done in right there! After seeing nothing but contempt, resignation and suspicion in the Dwarves eyes, it was a shock, a wonderful shock to see something else. He wasn't quite sure what it was yet, but there seemed to be something bordering on respect in there, mixed with surprise and his typical level of constant worry. Bilbo also noticed that he kept glancing at Orcrist with definite jealousy. Ha! He knew Thorin had loved that sword from the start, Elf made or not.
Breaking away, he moved in front of Bill, heart thumping like a jack rabbit. Time to do or die.
"You show...now...where."
There was definite threat there, the huge hand clenching and unclenching menacingly, no doubt a second away from squashing him like a bug if it pleased him.
"Yes yes, I'll take you straight there. If you'll just follow me."
The leader pointed at the smallest and dullest seaming Troll, he thinks his name was Tom, indicating that he should follow Bilbo. Okay so he'd apparently have to lead them off one by one. He could do that.
Feeling sick and dizzy with the almost painful need to sleep, Bilbo forced a smile and set off back into the trees, turning to make sure he was being followed.
Soon, the sounds of the other Trolls and Dwarves faded, leaving just his own quick breathing and the loud, dragging sound of the Trolls feet. If he remembered rightly, this was the Troll who first caught him, sweeping him up in his disgusting hanky and sneezing all over him. He shuddered just at the memory. But it also drove home just how different the two experiences were. This Troll was silent, eyes feral looking and devoid of the small bit of intelligence he'd originally had. How were they so different? What had happened to turn them this way?
By Yavanna, Bilbo hated the endless questions he had, any kind of answer only leading to more questions. He'd have to put them to one side for now, to examine and fret over once the threat of imminent death had passed.
Now how to give this Troll the slip. Outsmarting him wasn't the problem, but he needed to keep him far enough away from the camp and the other Trolls as possible. If he split them up in the trees far enough apart, he could make it back to the Dwarves and they could leg it. The sun couldn't be that far off now, and if they had enough of a head start, surely they couldn't catch up to them before the sun turned them to stone. Right?
Well, it was the only plan he had so it'd have to do. He was just hoping he would run into Gandalf at some point, that would make life a lot easier.
Displeased grumbles began to resonate from the Troll following him, sending his heartbeat through the roof. He needed to leave him soon or suffer the same fate meant for Kili.
At last! Just up ahead was a passage too small for the Troll to fit; two intertwined trees between a crevice of two boulders.
"Okay, I'm pretty sure it's through there." Bilbo stopped, looking the Troll up and down, humming in concern. "But now that I think about it, you're probably too large to fit through. That's a shame."
He allowed his comment to sink in, the Troll frowning and looking back at the small space. Gasping as though he'd just had an idea, Bilbo looked to the Troll in earnest. "I've got an idea! How about you wait here and I'll go get it for you! That way we get what you need quicker. Yes? Okay I'll be right back!"
Hardly allowing the horrid creature time to think it over, Bilbo bounded over to the gap, shooting one last reassuring smile at the Troll; standing there awkwardly and luckily showing no sign of following or complaining, before ducking into the shadowy space.
Once out of sight, he leaned against the cool rock and allowed himself a second to breathe. He didn't realise he'd shut his eyes until he lost his balance and nearly fell head first into the stone. Damn, he was so tired! He'd simply have to keep going, not sure if he could stay awake should he loose momentum.
Shaking himself, Bilbo carried on, emerging out from the other side. Okay so he needed to double back and return to camp. He started jogging, so grateful that he had the level of fitness he had at the end of the Quest, used to walking and running. Yavanna knows how he would have done this if his body had been as it should be at this point in the journey.
Soon he began to hear voices once more. He needed a cover story, some reason for returning minus a Troll. Hopefully they didn't have the intelligence to question or examine his comments, or else he'd be done for. Ah well, nothing for it but to do it.
Emerging into the clearing, he felt all eyes land on him. Ignoring the Dwarves, he went straight for the two Trolls. Ignoring the deep growls they greeted him with.
"Now now none of that. I'm helping you aren't I? No need to sound all angry." He was scolding Trolls. He, a Hobbit, was actually scolding two huge, very dangerous Trolls. And what's more, he sounded completely at ease. When on earth did that happen?
"Okay so it turns out that we need one of you taller ones. There's a cave on the side of that hill, you know the one? Yes well I'm pretty sure it's in there. But neither of us can reach it. Will one of you come and help?"
Bilbo tried to inject as much calm and honesty as he could into his voice. Not for one second allowing any of him to project the fact he was very, very much speaking out of his own arse.
Luckily there really was a cave in the side of the steepest face of the hill, and if they lived around here they surely would have at least passed it.
Turning to each other, William considered his words before grunting at the other Troll and pointing to Bilbo. Smiling at his new travelling partner, he headed back into the trees.
So just get rid of this one, Bert the cook if memory serves and then deal with the leader. Simple.
Taking the other path that led away from the first Troll, hopefully still waiting where he left him, Bilbo led them towards the hill not far ahead. It was closer to the camp than he would like, but still far enough away to delay Bert and buy himself some time. Besides, this one seemed the physically slowest, so that would surely give them a head start if needed.
Bilbo walked, one foot in front of the other, desperately holding on to this world. Though he was feeling sicker and weaker by the moment, shaking and cold, he would not abandon his friends to the Trolls. Not when he could do something about it.
At last they reached the side of the hill, a cave sitting high above them just as he said. It wasn't until the Troll started to look around and growl that he realised he may have cocked up. This Troll was looking for the first, who should have been here and was, of course very much not. Damn.
"Hang on a minute, where on earth is that Troll?" Bilbo made a show of looking around, surprise and annoyance clear on his face and in his voice. Or so he hoped. "Honestly, does he understand speech? I told him! I said, you stay here and mind the cave whilst I go get one of the others! I was sure he nodded and understood but apparently not. Honestly! Does he often wander off?"
The other Troll just stared at him, this tiny Hobbit with his hands on his hips, before letting out a noise that sounded suspiciously like a scoff before turning back to the cave.
Swaying with relief, he stepped forward. "Now I'm sure it's up there but I'm much too small and weak to climb up. But you could easily I'm sure! Then just go inside and it'll be there."
A moment passed, sweat dripping down Bilbo's spine as he fought to keep his expression trustworthy. Finally, the creature nodded, stepping in front of the hill face and beginning his climb. His huge legs easily found a crevice to step, hands digging into the cracks in the stone. He finally reached the cave, dragging his head, torso and finally his body into the dark space.
What happened after that, Bilbo did not know, as he raced away back into the trees. This would be the hardest, of that he had no doubt. He'd have to keep it together, be convincing. And most of all, quick.
Running as though his life depended on it, which it rather did now he thought about it, Bilbo broke into the clearing. Panting and shaking, he sprinted to the final Troll, his angry growls only helping him seem more desperate.
"Help! You... must... help!" He wheezed out, folding forward to lean his hands on his knees, gasping for breath and desperately ignoring the very real black spots that kept blooming in the corners of his vision.
Straightening, he gazed beseechingly at the Troll leader, pointing back into the trees. "They're trying to... take it for themselves! Found it, just like I said! But now... they're fighting over it! Want to... get all the credit themselves! Hurry before... one of them wins and... takes it!"
A roar of fury left the Troll, making Bilbo cease up in terror, sounds of alarm coming from the Dwarves that he was still trying so hard not to look at. The sky was beginning to lighten, they only had to hold out for maybe 10 minutes, 15 tops. They could do that. He could do that.
William would run off and then Bilbo and the Dwarves could make a break for it whilst they were distracted. He quickly turned to look at his friends, mouthing 'get ready' at them, watching them all tense up, ready for a sprint.
Then he watched their eyes widen, fear on their faces as a huge hand grabbed him brutally from behind and lifted him up. Bilbo had just enough time to see Thorin start to rise, fear clear on his face before he was plunged into the trees, carried along by a furious Troll.
"Bilbo!"
Then he heard nothing but the angry bellows of the Troll, breaking branches as he thundered towards the cave in the rock. This was it, Bilbo had failed. Yes his friends would have ample time to escape now, once the Trolls realised they'd been tricked and exacted their revenge in the most brutal of ways, but the fact of the matter was that he didn't want it to end yet. He didn't want to leave them.
The movement was making his head swim, body aching like he'd taken a tumble down in Goblin Town again. If he managed to somehow survive this, he knew the fallout once he awoke in the Shire would be terrible.
They stopped, the suddenness jolting his head forward, pain blooming behind his eyes. Yavanna above his head hurt, a sick pounding that radiated through his body.
The hand opened, dropping him without thought or remorse onto the hard earth. Pain erupted everywhere, his body a huge bruise, hands scrapped as he tried to stop his head hitting the rocky ground. He wasn't quick enough to stop himself landing on his back though, the crossed swords digging painfully into his spine. His back would be black and blue by the end of this.
Forcing his spinning head to look up, he focused just in time to see the huge fist that had been carrying him, smash into the face of the Troll he'd left in the cave. They began fighting, growling and raging, a rockslide of viciousness. An answering sound came from the left, the stamp of heavy feet and a lumbering body making its way through the trees towards them.
Fear and adrenaline filled him; if he didn't get out of there now, they'd quickly realise they'd been tricked. The sun was surely minutes away from rising but in their furious quest for whatever damned thing they were looking for and now their fighting, the Trolls seemed to have forgotten.
Rising slowly and quietly, he creeped away. The smallest Troll broke through the trees and was immediately caught around the throat, scrambling and scratching at William's fist.
Turning, he ran as fast as he could, slowed down by the weight of the swords and the heavy exhaustion of his limbs. But Bilbo forced himself on, heading for the clearing and hoping to Yavanna the Dwarves had been smart enough to run.
Finally breaking through the trees, panting in air that felt like knives to his lungs, he saw that he was half right. The rest of the Dwarves had indeed left, but Thorin was waiting, his angular Dwarven sword ready.
"What are you...doing you...idiot!" He gasped out, almost wanting to laugh at the Dwarf's indignant face, opening his mouth to snap back.
He never got the chance though, as three piercing roars of pure fury erupted into the air, thundering shudders coming towards them.
"Run!"
Luckily the king didn't need telling twice; reaching forward to grab the Hobbit's arm and drag him along.
They raced together out of the clearing, reaching the path and following it. Not too far up ahead he saw the rest of the Dwarves, obviously waiting despite orders if Thorin's angry groan was anything to go by, waving furiously at them to carry on.
Luckily they did just that, but it was probably down to the fact three huge, terrifyingly angry Trolls had just thundered out of the trees and onto the path, eating up the distance between them in a sickeningly short amount of time.
They ran faster, Dwarf and Hobbit sharing a look between them as the roars got closer and closer.
But there, coming up in front of them! The sun! Warm rays of light were begining to show, coming up along the path in front of them as it rose. If they could just reach it, they'd be safe. They were so close, the rest of the Company safe in its light and turning to watch them, terror clear on their faces.
"Duck!"
The shout from their friends came too late, as a rope was swung by one of the Trolls so close behind them, hitting Thorin in the side first and knocking him into Bilbo. They fell in a heap, cries of fear from the friends mingling with the sounds of triumph from the Trolls.
Jumping up, Bilbo pulled Orcrist from its sheath behind him and stood in front of the dazed Dwarf. If he could somehow hold them off until the light reached them, mere moments away, then at the very least he'd save Thorin. Anything was worth that.
So many things happened at once, in the blink of an eye that felt like eternity. William reached his hand out to grab the Hobbit, to crush him or squash him in revenge. Bilbo raised the heavy sword to strike at his fingers, determined to buy every second he could get. The Dwarf king behind him cried out.
Then the light hit, flooding the valley and path in its blessed rays. The hand centimetres away from grabbing him was hit first turning to stone, the rest of them crying out as they soon followed, bellowing their anger to the last.
Then it was over. In front of him, the Troll leader was frozen forever; face a picture of pure anger, hand reached out to crush the life from him. Behind him, the two other Trolls were frozen, bodies hunched up. It was a tableau, a testament to just how close they came to death.
Turning to the king, the face his heart knew and recognised beyond all others, Bilbo saw him looking back in concern, something vulnerable and shaken. Then Bilbo swayed on his feet; vision blurring, head pounding, the aching pull in his chest hitting him like a spear, his whole body feeling pulled apart at the seams. He clutched his hand over his heart and gasped.
"Bilbo?"
Then it all went black.