burgling | I never knew daylight could be so violent

I never knew daylight could be so violent

"I come from under the hill, and under the hills and over the hills my paths led. And through the air. I am he that can walk unseen. I am the clue-finder, the web-cutter, the stinging fly. I was chosen for the lucky number. I am he that buries his friends alive and drowns them and draws them alive again from the water. I came from the end of the bag and no bag went over me. I am the friend of bears and the guest of eagles. I am the Ringwinner and Luckweaver. I am the Barrel-rider."

Bilbo had been starting to find himself quite pleased with his riddles, as pleased as a Tookish hobbit can be when facing down a dragon of swirling gold eyes and dark red, blood like skin. His heart aches where it rests under the Ring. The whispering ring. The ring that catches the gaze of Smaug who smiles -- for all dragons can smile, though it is a rare occurrence -- and tilts his head on his pile of gold.

"I was to say that some of those don't sound so credible," he scoffs playfully. "But these last sound better. Don't let your imagination run away with you." No dragon can resist riddled talk, after all, but it is not riddles that Smaug wants now.

The Ring whispers to him and promises him more than any gold found in Erebor if he waits. If he breathes his magic like fire into the halfling's heart, there will be no way to stop him from having all the gold in Middle Earth from now until the end of all time.

And this is exactly what Smaug does, for one does not ignore a ring of power, not clever dragons at least who were there before their forging, and who sang their songs before such things could be known.

Bilbo sinks into himself, into the golden eye, slips between the hollow of the ring, and when the hobbit returns to the group of thirteen, he is no longer their lucky number. His eyes burn gold.

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"Of course it's not simple," Bilbo says with a frown of annoyance and takes back his hand. "He hadn't meant to destroy your home. He was hungry and he was tired and that is no excuse for people like you or I but dragons see the world differently."

Have you ever met another dragon, Thorin Oakenshield? No? Then how can you understand their motivation?

"He will leave within the hour, through the main gates. He has promised not to harm Lake-Town. If you do not believe me, seal yourselves in this tunnel and wait!"

Oh dear, Mahal, you aren't defending the dragon and what it did, are you, Bilbo? Are you? Please say you're not. Thorin just looks concerned if anything now.

"It is not you I do not trust, tis the dragon!"

Bilbo takes hold of Thorin's hand again and pulls it to his cheek. "Thorin. Please. I don't know if I've doomed us all but I need you to hope with me that the dragon will just leave Erebor to you and your people and never return. I can't begin to know his motivations. Why he came. I am only telling you be said be would leave and had not realized in his exhaustion that his gold was yours."

Be grateful he didn't say that the dwarves were a tasty good night snack!

"Did I do poorly?"

When Bilbo takes his hand again Thorin listens, he lets the halfling speak and then sighs, looking away from him when he asks if he did poorly. He gathers Bilbo to him, resting his head a top the hobbit's.

"No, no you did not."

Yet still, even if Smaug does leave, what would stop him from coming back? What if all the dwarves came back to Erebor and Smaug returned, killed them all? What if that was the plan all along?

"Come, we should hide ourselves for when he leaves."

And that is a very good plan indeed. Thorin is no idiot. He knows what dragons might do. Bilbo could have well mentioned that the dwarves might return and in a few generations, when their wealth is again legendary, return.

But, that said, this time Thorin could be ready for him. To guard against a dragon is no easy matter but Erebor can be fortified. The dragon's initial arrival had caught them off guard. It never will again.

Bilbo sinks into Thorin's arms as he always had. Relieved. His arms curl around a thick waist.

"Let me help with the ponies."

It would take a lot of time and work to have Erebor ready for any dragon, but they could do it, if Smaug allowed them the time. He doesn't see it happening. Still, he wants to trust Bilbo, so for now they will see if the dragon leaves.

They gather the ponies in a small underpass that would at least hide them from Smaug's view, or they hope, the dwarves crowded in among them tightly.

"So now we wait here for the dragon to come out and eat us, is it?" Dwalin grumbles, not at all liking any of this. Thorin gives him a look, as if to tell him he doesn't like this either, but they need to trust their burglar. The other dwarf just grumbles more.

The hobbit might console him that even if Smaug's intent was to return and kill the dwarves for another meal, he would do it after some time when all of the dwarves had returned. Taht gives Thorin time. The Men of Lake-Town might even help them.

As expected, the dragon rises an hour later, the rampage of his large body through the great halls of Erebor shaking the whole mountain and all of the dwarves. Bilbo himself looks fearful and he holds into Kili and Fili, who have made it their mission to protect the hobbit, though each are also raring to rush outside and see the dragon off.

Once the rumble in the ground stops, it seems that it's indeed over for the afternoon at least, though Balin warns them all to stay put for a very long time.

Just to be sure.

Thorin has them move just a little aside from the ponies, though he has a Ori and his brothers keep an eye on them. The other huddle nearby as night comes once more. He doesn't want to risk a fire, just in case.

"We'll go in in the morning... by then if the dragon has not shown itself then we are safe." For now. Though right now they're cold and Thorin has the boys huddled beside him, with Bilbo on the other. He'll pull Bilbo close, arm around his shoulders.

Close is where Bilbo needs to be so he doesn't mind at all how needy Thorin is to keep him close. He needs more time in all of this. He needs, specifically, for Thorin to trust him. This is easier said than done when it comes to a dragon at their heels but in a few days--

In a few days it simply will not matter. There will be other things to deal with. Elves. Men. And Thorin's loyalty as well. Bilbo will be right by his side through all of it.

Just as he is now, whispering softly in the dark as he lightly squeezes his hand. "It will be all right. Have faith." Trust in him, Thorin. Trust.

It's difficult for the dwarf. He's so close. So very close to the place he once called home, that he saw fall back over a hundred years ago. So close and yet felt so very far.

In the darkness he squeezes Bilbo's hand back, sighs heavily. He does not sleep, though he does almost nod off a few times. When the sun rises once again Thorin almost doesn't want to wake those who have slept. They have much to do, they will need their energy. When the boys wake though he will move, needing to stretch stiff limbs.

He'll be mindful to not jar Bilbo too much, if he's managed to sleep.

"Dori, Nori, Ori, stay with the ponies, let us know if anything comes near the mountain. We shall go in and see if everything is well."

Bilbo doesn't need to stay in the thick of the company, and he'd much rather stay with Thorin. Yet, it would be expected of him to stay in the middle and so that is what he does, careful to look wide eyed when the company finds Erebor empty of all but gold covering layers of skeletal remains of men, women and children that had not escaped the onslaught.

It's a difficult time for everyone save Thorin's nephews and Bifor, Bofur and Bombur, whom have never lived here. The rest however--

Bilbo pushes his way to the front, to the throne, to where Thorin stands.

"It doesn't look as if he's taken a thing."

Thorin stands solemnly by the thrown of his once great grandfather, a dwarf who had been swallowed up by his love of gold. He remembers standing beside this throne many a time, speaking to his king. From when he was a wee dwarrow to the young dwarf he'd been when Smaug ransacked his home.

He doesn't even hear Bilbo come up to him until he speaks, hand resting on the arm of the chair, leaning against it a little. He turns to look back at him, brows knit.

"He took everything." Thorin mutters, quiet, defeated sounding. Even though he's back in Erebor, seeing it like this, it's painful. He wants to crumble, to weep, to let everything out, but he can't. He can't do that.

He is Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain. He must be strong, no matter what.

"No." You're not allowed to think that way. Not when there is still so very much to do here. Bilbo puts both hands on Thorin's arm and then presses himself right up in the other's personal space. He is not, at all, sorry for that.

"Listen to me, Thorin, King Under the Mountain, you have saved it. You brought us all together, for a reason. For fate. This is your legacy, your gift to your people. I can't imagine what you're feeling right now, but stay true for a little while longer. Lean on me. Let me help you with your burden."

He smiles up at Thorin and the blue of his eyes reflects the gold around them.

"Let me stay here with you."

He feels so very weak, so tired and worn and yet Bilbo is right there to lift him up. To let him lean against him figuratively. He's not sure what, but he feels more inclined to listen to Bilbo than he might have before, he might have wallowed a bit more, but Bilbo's words are just so... very powerful.

It has nothing to do with those gold tinted eyes. Not at all.

"..." Resting his hand over the one on his arm he looks shocked, but pleasantly so. Touched even.

"You would leave your home, the very one you have not stopped thinking of since we left, to stay here... with me?" And then a smile spreads across his face, there is still sadness, but this has broken through it.

"You know I would desire nothing more than to have you here with me."

"We can visit for the spring festival," Bilbo says. "Kings do not always need to stay with their kingdoms, do they?" It's easier, it seems, for Thorin to dwell on this. The Ring wishes to travel, wishes to find the one that it is meant for. And Bilbo-- Bilbo will never be happy here. Hobbits long for warm ground, for fields and water. Nothing like that can be found in this great city.

But first things first. Thorin must become king. Erebor must be recreated. The dwarves must return. and then there must be wars. So very, very many wars. All of that can only be accomplished with Bilbo whispering in his lover's ear.

The Ring is smart. The ring is patient.

The Ring can make Bilbo's body outlast time of it needs to.

"But let's focus on you. On your people. I'll write to my family. See to it that my affairs are handled while I'm with you." With you. "I might have longed for home, Thorin, but my home has never left me since you entered it. I am happy to be where you dwell."

So many sweet, terrible words.

The Ring is certainly smart. It has taken a perfect host, one that will easily worm it's way into the emotionally compromised king of Erebor. Thorin will be played like a fiddle and no one will realize until it's far too late.

Thorin will pull Bilbo into a hug, sitting on the throne that is now his and rests his head on the hobbit's shoulder. Just let him have this moment.

"Thank you." He'll murmur.

Words he will be saying to Bilbo more often, once the Battle of the Five Armies is through. One he survives, if with his own wounds, laid up in bed, but he does. His nephews are not as lucky, they both on death's bed, no one thinks they will make it. Thorin cannot see them in his current state, too weak to get out of bed. He's miserable and in pain, he feels like he's brought this upon his nephews, that if they die it is by his hand.

It's so very hard to feel strong when it feels like everything is crumbling around you again.

Bilbo only leaves Thorin's side -- once his own wounds are covered for the hobbit had done more scouting and hiding than actual fighting no matter how good with Sting he had gotten -- to run reconnaissance on his nephews and the other wounded. Oin is with them both and they hold hands when awake across the scant distance between their beds.

Bilbo relates ll of this in detail, sparing Thorin nothing.

He comes back that evening looking pale in the firelight of the tent Thorin is in, poultices newly changed, bandages and wounds washed, and falls to his knees in tears.

"They've found a plant that will cure Kili or Fili of their fever, and save his life," Bilbo weeps, though there is no such plant, simply a small he has learned from Smaug and the Ring...one he can perform as many times as he'd like, though he'll not tell Thorin this. "We have only enough for one. Oin asks you to choose."

Thorin had been lightly dozing, more out of pure exhaustion than anything, when Bilbo comes in. He comes to fully as the hobbit falls to his knees in tears, sobbing out something about his nephews. Thorin feels his blood run cold at the words, his heart surely stops beating for a moment.

"Tis a horrible jest you play on me, Bilbo Baggins." He shakes his head, swallowing thickly. This can't be happening.

"I must see them, let me see them." The king though is still to weak to leave his bed, he must stay to rest.

"I'll get Men to carry you," Bilbo whispers. Good, kind Bilbo. He's already planted the cure for one of the dying dwarves, he's already made sure that Oin will back his story. Why wouldn't he? What Bilbo says ought to be gold.

This will be the first of many lessons for Thorin Oakenshield. The first breaking. The rest will follow slowly. Deliciously.

Oh, Bilbo can hardly contain his excitement!

The Men arrive a moment later with a litter to bear the king to his nephews. The wounded part ways to allow passage.

With help Thorin is brought to the bed sides of his dying nephew's. He stands weakly between them, clutching one of their hands each. They're happy to see him, even in their sickness, even knowing that one of them must die. Oin had already spoken to them and the boys had decided... well, Kili had decided.

The three of them talk in length, argue, weep, and finally both Fili and Thorin give in to Kili's wish. He must let his older brother live, he was the direct heir to Thorin and much better suited to be king than he ever could be. It would be foolish to waste their one chance on him. As much as it hurts him, as much as it hurts them all. Fili, with help from Thorin and the others, moves to his brothers bed, lays with him and Thorin kneels beside it, clutching at them both.

He weeps silently, but openly, but it is with them and no one else.

"I'm so sorry, lads... I'm so sorry..." He repeats, over and over, apologizes to Kili, to his brother. He never should have brought them.

And so Fili has the tonic made and Bilbo and the rest of the Company keep their distance as Kili gets paler and Fili brightens over the next few hours. It will still take time for Thorin's heir to come around completely, but the internal bleeding has stopped.

It's just after the darkest part of the night when Kili goes very still, eyes brimming with tears, and makes no more motion. There is a great cry through the camp and Bilbo, staying on the edge of the tent, waits. Waits until he hears how Thorin will express his grief.

All he can hear right now is Fili. Understandable. This is what happens when one part of a pair gets lost.

Fili and Thorin stay with Kili until the bitter end. Fili does not let go of his hand once. They talk of their youth and of hopes and dreams and Kili tells his brother that he's scared... that he doesn't want to die, but they both know it's already too late.

When the time comes everyone knows when Kili has passed. Fili wails his brothers name over and over, begging him to wake up. Thorin stays for a little bit, but eventually it's too much even for him. He's still weak and shouldn't be moving about on his own, but he does. Retreating to some place private where he can grieve on his own. He weeps openly, loudly, he cries as he had not since the battle at Moria when he found Frerin's body among the dead.

He is so very sure his heart will never mend from this, even if he should be so terrible happy. Erebor is theirs again, Fili still lives. His people will have their rightful home back. Yet he cannot find it in himself to climb up out of the pit of despair he's fallen into.

And this is where Bilbo will shine. The Ring cloaks him and the night does as well when he slips under the tent like a good little hobbit and right into Thorin's arms. He is silent for as long as he can allow it, stroking hair and kissing away tears. Bilbo himself would never be this way with Thorin but the Ring can see what the dwarf king needs and so Bilbo performs as expected.

"Balin told me that when dwarves leave life they travel to the Hall of Waiting. He's with your grandfather. And your father. And his father and your brother. And all of your ancestors. This should be a celebration. You'll see him again, Thorin."

But Bilbo is not a dwarf. He will never meet again with his company. So live, Thorin. Live while you can have your hobbit with you.

Usually Thorin would try to hide such display of emotions, even from Bilbo, but right now with the halfling giving him exactly what he needs he can't be bothered to stop. No doubt Bilbo's shirt will be wet with tears by the end of it, if not a bit of snot as well.

Not very majestic or kingly at all.

Still, Thorin has grown quiet by the time Bilbo speaks. He's wept so much he's sure he won't be able to ever again, he merely sniffs here and there, blinking numbly as he holds onto the hobbit. He holds onto him as if life itself relies on it.

He can't even reply back, though Bilbo is mostly right. He does not feel that this is any time to celebrate, at least not his nephew's death.

But perhaps his crossing over might not be a celebration at the moment but they can will honour him. Poor Kili. Poor Kili dead at Bilbo's hands. Though it might be argued that Fili would be dead as well without Smaug's magics. Thorin ought to be grateful.

Bilbo kisses his forehead and presses Thorin to lay still.

"Rest, King Under the Mountain. Fili will need you tomorrow. And you must be well for all that is to come."

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