Chapter Thirteen – A Baggins Tale

Happy endings are not a requirement for fairy tales.

Old Took had told her that once when she was just a girl. His tale of the great hero and the beast ended in tragedy. The hero slew the monster and saved the princess locked in his tower. He saw her safely to his companions and fell to his wounds. In a field of flowers they buried the white knight and the princess mourned.

Bilba had cried on her grandfather's lap, demanding a change. Retell the ending. Make it right!

What he told her then was wisdom she was too young yet to understand, but now she did.

"A story does not always end in a happily ever after. Happy endings are not a requirement for fairy tales."

Bilba had sniffled and buried her head into his chest.

"We root for the hero, we follow and trust them with our lives. In the end the hero will always save the day for us, but sometimes he cannot save himself. That is why we always support him, but we never fall in love. For heroes rescue princesses and queens. They slay dragons. But we, Bilba, my dear, we are his warriors. We are following him on his quest, from start to end. If the story is to be changed, it is you who must do the changing. It is you who must step up and fight for the hero."

"But what about the beast?"

"You will fall in the hero's place. He will go on, and marry the princess, and have a happy ending. But if you die there are no more stories. No more quests. There will always be more heroes. Sometimes," he smiled, "Sometimes the hero is worth fighting for, but you have to be certain."

"I don't wanna die, grandda."

"Shh," he held her close. "Shh now, you won't."

"But... but I have to. I'm going to slay the beast and save the hero so he can have the happily ever after version." She pulled back to look at him. "That's what the hero's companions are supposed to do, right? They were supposed to go and help him, even though he told them to stay back. I think this one is worth fighting for."

Old Took laughed and ruffled her curls. "Alright then, Bilba. Okay. Well, the valiant knight rushed into battle after our hero..."

Bilba was no valiant knight. She didn't consider herself even vaguely heroic.

She was a coward, and she was stumbling invisible among the proper heroes who were fighting back the orcs.

Her head burned and her feet ached. Her arms were heavy... but she had to move. The fear ate away at her breath, and every step screamed in her. She had to move. Somewhere out there were the heroes of her story and a pale orc. She needed to be there, even if Thorin threatened her with pain of death. This was war. In war you did what you had to do.

Behind her came a battle cry and a lobby of arrows from the cliff side. She ducked her head and covered herself with her arms as she ran behind a large orc who was swinging at a man with a club. She hit the ground as arrows rained mere feet away. She scrambled away and ducked by a dwarf and past an elf. She climbed over a fallen man and then she saw them.

Thorin was between Azog and Fili. Fili was charging past Thorin and being thrown to the side like he were nothing.

Thorin raised Orcrist as Azog swung down on him and with a scream the sword flew out of his grasp. He fell to one knee, gripping his arm.

Bilba is certain she yelled.

In fact she let out a battle cry that would have made Bullroarer Took proud.

She was also certain she must have been suicidal. She charged forward, vaulting over bodies, Sting drawn, and snatched up Thorin's sword. With one hand she plunged Sting into Azog's thigh, and took hold of Orcrist in both hands. She drew back and came down hard across his back. The cut was nothing more than a scratch. She scrambled away and pushed the sword into Thorin's hands screaming at him to get up. To fight. For the love of all that was good in this world he had to get up!

Azog was rising again and Bilba panicked. She grabbed for Sting, trying to yank it free, but was too scared to grasp the hilt tightly enough to pull.

Fili charged from the side, finally on his feet once more. His blades tore twin slashes down Azog's side and he dropped down.

Bilba wasn't watching Thorin as he rose, Orcrist in his left hand. She was watching Fili as he drew back for another strike. That's when Thorin swung down. That's when Azog's head fell free of his shoulders and landed at Bilba's feet. She looked up at a blood soaked dwarf. A king. She nearly fell unconscious for a second time that fight when he stepped towards her, his sword falling to the wayside, and grabbed at her. His hands fumbled in the air until he caught her by the sleeve.

"Take off that cursed ring," it was low and harsh and she fumbled for her hands and stuffed the little ring into her pocket.

The world regained its color and the clash of shields was sharp in her ears. Thorin crushed her to his bleeding chest. "What sort of fool are you? Are you trying to get yourself killed!?"

He brought a hand up to cradle her head against his shoulder. His hands were so bloody he couldn't tell where his blood ended and her's began. His touch burned in her brain and set fire behind her eyes and she lost herself to the darkness once more.

"Bilba? Bilba!"

Thorin shook her and Fili, who was standing on weak legs, heard the desperation in his voice. "Stop it," he said, grabbing Thorin's wrist. "Don't."

Thorin face was drained of color. Fili gently took the hobbit from his uncle's arms.

"Get her far away from here," he said weakly. "Fili, go."

Fili nodded mutely and lifted Bilba up and over his shoulder, leaving one hand free for a sword.

Thorin bit the inside of his cheek and stepped after them, grabbing Fili's shoulder. "Mizim. Bilba," he pressed his lips to her head. "Don't you dare die. Don't die," he begged. He feared this was his last chance to speak to her. "I love you. Now, go. Fili, go!"

Fili took off as fast as he could and Thorin turned back and lifted Azog's head out of the mud and blood. The orcs around him had fallen back, but now, as Thorin gripped Azog's head in his hands and raised it high with a war cry, they scattered. Their commander fallen, their leader dead, they were disorganized.

Fili stumbled as he carried Bilba across the field, but he made it across the way without attacks. He laid her carefully against the rocks at a small ledge. Above her was the charred trunk of an old tree. Dotted around were small white flowers that took hold of the stone.

He finally took a breath and dropped on a knee, tired. Too tired to stand, but he had no time to rest.

"You'll be safe here. I'm going to make sure of it," he said standing up. His eyes scanned the field for his brother.

A deafening roar came and a massive black bear was running alongside the army and towards him, falling into the form of a man by his side. Before Beorn could say a word Fili was barking orders. "Stay here! Protect her with your life."

"Spoken," he paused for a harsh breath, "Like a king. Go, I will keep her safe."

And he was running off while Beorn fell back into a bear, three arrows in his back. He may have been sent with the intention of keeping him safe, but he could not. He could not go into battle at his side. There wasn't much left he could do. Charging into the last clash was beyond him now.

He could bash away a few orcs. He could stand her guard.

As night fell on the battle the orcs set what land they could ablaze. Brush and shrub on the hills and the ridge.

They lit the bodies of the dead to shine on their fight. The half moon rose, glowing white, and people were sick on the field from the smell of burnt flesh and hair.

The ravens did what they could to bring water to douse the flames, but they were left to pray for rain from a cloudless sky.

"Du Bekâr! Du Bekâr!" Fili called. "These are our lands, we stand our ground!" His sword was risen high as he ran in front of the forming ranks.

He took his place at his uncle's side. Thorin rose his sword in his good hand, and tired his best not to waver on his feet. "Rally to me! My brothers! My friends! My allies! Stand with me!"

The armies of dwarves, men and elves stood together. They were forming a line for one final charge. One last stand this day.

Some of the orcs formed their own line, but many did not bother.

It had been a hopeless last stand for the orcs. Their leaders were dead and they were outnumbered. Many tried to flee and were picked off by archers, or crushed and thrown by eagles. Swarms of ravens would dive on them, pecking and pulling.

Those with the courage left to stand were shouting in their black tongue for death and ruin. They beat their feet and the butts of theirs spears on the ground and it came like thunder.

The land itself seemed to let out a breath. The tension snapped like a bowstring, and the armies broke. From the side Beorn let out a monumental roar while the horns of men and elves rang out among the dwarven battle cries.

Swords sang and shields were splintered.

They were victorious.

When Bilba first came to she was surrounded by something warm and soft. She almost didn't want to get up.

"Be-Beorn?" she said. It had to be him. She couldn't imagine a random bear would lie down beside her. "Wake up," she said and gently shook him. "Hey."

He groaned, but did not wake.

She frowned and took a few steps away. There were bodies at her feet and there was blood in her eyes. The scorching pain in her head had grown more than she could stand. She was half blind when she started picking her way over corpses and towards the lights in the distance. Stars? No. Fires, she realized. Fires and tents.

She was vaguely aware of shouting as she saw Gloin and Bofur running towards her.

"No, no. Stop moving." Bofur didn't stop until he was an inches from her and grabbing her under the arms. "No walking now, Bilba. Oh, by the Maker." He could hardly see her face for the blood. He couldn't tell if it was still coming or not. It was dark and sticky in her hair. He was looking her up and down and around her skull. At least in body she seemed okay, but her head... he couldn't even tell where she'd been struck.

Gloin came up behind her and lifted her carefully and rested her head on his broad shoulders. "Aye, we've got you now. The battle's over, lass. We've won."

"My head hurts," she said.

Bofur let out a half crazed laugh. "I reckon it does. You'll be just fine, Bilba. We're going to get you patched up." Tired as she was she missed the worry in his voice. The unsurety.

"What were you thinking?" Gloin said.

"Someone has to help Beorn," she said pointing vaguely into the dark. "You have to-"

Bofur hushed her. "There are more coming. He'll be taken care of." He fussed over her the entire walk back, but she didn't pay any attention.

"How is everyone?" she interrupted him.

"I don't..." he started.

"Too early to know," Gloin said.

"What?" she struggled in his grip. She wanted to stop. She wanted to stand still, but Gloin kept her weak body in his arms.

Bofur smacked Gloin's shoulder. "What he means is that everyone is alive. A little banged up," he said. "Everyone is going to be fine."

"I saw Thorin and Fili get hurt," she said, the memory coming back to her.

"Fili's fine," Bofur assured her. "A few cuts. He's just fine. Some of us are... a little worse for wear," he admitted.

"Who?" Bilba asked but Bofur didn't say anything. "Damn you! Tell me who!"

Gloin coughed. "Kili's going to pull through, so don't you worry. But he found himself on the wrong end of a bad arrow. He is going to be fine. He was awake last I saw him."

Bofur frowned, and his chest felt like it was going to explode. "Bifur took a bad knock on the head. He's not awake, but he's hardly dead."

"Everyone else is okay?" but she didn't get an answer. "Take me to Thorin."

"Lass, you need a doctor. You need to rest."

"Then bring him to me!" she snapped, but Bofur wouldn't look her in the eye. "What aren't you telling me? Take me to Thorin! You take me to him now! I'm fine. Take me to him!" she shouted.

They were just coming into the camp and Bilba was growing more frantic.

"I need to see him, damn you! Damn you both! Take me to him. Please, Gloin. Please, take me to him. He's an idiot and he's gotten himself really hurt, hasn't he? How bad is it?"

"Bilba, we need to take you to Oin," Bofur said and tried to quiet her. "You're hurt. You're bleeding."

"I don't care!"

"He's going to be fine," Gloin said.

"Please," she begged. "If you don't take me to him," she said, "I'll go on my own and no one can stop me if they can't see me."

He heaved a sigh and stopped in the middle of the tents. "You have three minutes. If I so much as think you're going to be sick, or fall asleep, or pass out, I'm picking you up and taking you to my brother and he's going to strap you to a bed," Gloin said. He turned to Bofur. "You go find him, because she needs to see him as soon as she can."

As Bofur took off Gloin slipped between tent flaps and into a dimly lit area. Gandalf was at Thorin's side. There was so much blood.

He looked awful. He looked paper white, almost frail. He looked dead.

His right arm from wrapped elbow to wrist in thick gauze, but it still bled through. His torso was bound from chest to hip.

Gloin eased her into a chair beside him. "Bilba!" Gandalf stepped around and grabbed her by the shoulders. "She needs a healer immediately."

"I need to be here," she said and glared at him.

"She has three minutes, and your time is ticking, lass," Gloin said and pulled the wizard aside to give Bilba at least the illusion of privacy. "How is he?"

He looked back at Bilba who was covering her mouth and fighting tears away. "I've done all I can for now. I'm waiting for the surgeon. He needs stitches to close this up better. Bandages will not hold him together through the night."

Gloin growled. "He's the king. Are you telling me he can't be stitched up first?"

"He was one of the last off of the field, Gloin," Gandalf said, he it came out more tensely than he wanted. "The next free surgeon will be here. He is their next priority."

Bilba's headache didn't quite block out their words. She reached out and held his hand. She begged him to wake up. For all that was good and right in this world, he had to wake up.

It couldn't end like this. Not after everything they'd been through.

It wasn't fair.

"You have to wake up you great idiot. What am I supposed to do now? What am I going to do if you die on me?"

And his words, lost until now somewhere in the sleepy dregs of her mind came forward. You'll live and you'll cope.

"Don't you dare leave me here. Don't make me wake up alone again."

Gandalf stooped down by her side. "He will live, Bilba," he swore.

She was half blind for the hair and blood in her eyes. She bent over to look at his face more closely and the nausea hit her like a wave.

"Gloi-" she breathed. "I'm gon-"

He jolted across the space and caught her before she even began to slump in her chair. "Oh, by the Maker!" he ran out of the tent with her. He knew he shouldn't have listened to her. "Oin is going to kill me!"

The sun was rising and the colors of the sky bled like the soldiers.

Troops of elves were marching into the woods carrying their most gravely wounded who needed better conditions and better medicine.

Thorin clawed at his bed and bit back screams as the surgeon shoved the needle over and over through his side. In and out, in and out. Suck in a breath and try not to scream. They had nothing left to dull the pain. They poured whiskey over wounds to disinfect.

But Thorin knew he would live through it. He'd suffer on. He'd suffered worse.

He knew well that he could have died on the field.

Balin ambled in just as the healer was leaving and instructing Thorin not to get out of his bed. So, of course, he was immediately trying to sit up and shouting about the pain.

"Lie down," Balin said. "You nearly got your intestines cut out of you."

"Hardly," he said, but managed to sit up.

"You are split from your ribs to your thigh," he said.

Thorin grimaced and nodded. "It wasn't that deep, but I should have worn more than just the old chain mail."

Balin shook his head with a small laugh. "You're an idiot."

"What's the news, Balin," Thorin said seriously.

"The orcs are gone. Azog and Bolg are dead. Our alliance is still standing. A number of elves have taken their worst wounded to Mirkwood and we've been moving the worst of the dwarves and men into Erebor to keep them from the chill."

Thorin nodded.

"As for the company, we're all alive," he said. "Some broken bones among us. Bifur spent most of the night unconscious. He woke up not long ago. Kili is awake."

"What happened to Kili?"

"He got shot... with a poisoned arrow. It could have been a lot worse, especially if he'd stayed on the field for any length of time. As Oin tells it an elf brought him in. He recognized her from Mirkwood as one of the prison guards. And she was shot in the back while she brought him in."

"He'll recover?"

"Aye. He says he feels sick, and he's sore, but he's already on his feet. No one can keep him down. Every time they catch him up they put him back in bed," he smiled. "He's as bad as ever. He can't use his left arm much right now," he admitted. "But it'll be fine with time."

Thorin nodded. "I want to see him."

"You will."

"And Fili?"

"He's fine. A few cuts but nothing too bad."

And now came the question he dreaded. Balin knew it was coming. "How is Bilba?"

"She's been mostly asleep. Oin assures me it's sleep and not that she's unconscious, though I don't know how he tells the difference. They've cleaned her up. She's got a nasty cut on her head that needed stitching,s and a concussion. He thinks her unconsciousness came more from the blood loss. She's going to be fine," he said.

"Take me to her."

"No," he said and Thorin's face crumpled. "Not right now. You need rest. You aren't even fit to walk alone. And she needs to rest. She is well taken care of," he promised. "Fili's been at her side all night. And I'm pretty sure Kili's slipped off and is with her too. All of us on our feet have been to see her. Even dwarves from the Iron Hills have stopped to give her their well wishes. She's become a bit of a camp celebrity."

"Balin," Thorin started.

"Aa," he held up a hand. "You're going to stay in this bed until Oin says otherwise. You can see her later. For what it's worth," he said, "She came to see you. Bofur said she cursed him and Gloin out and made them bring her over before she got any medical attention." Balin sighed and scooted closer in his chair. He looked at Thorin very seriously, because the battle aside he still had his sins to atone for. "You did wrong by her. Now, pay attention. Any dwarf-woman would have your head and it would within her rights. Bilba obviously still loves you. You had better make this right."

Fili kept jerking awake as his head nodded.

A sharp cough came from beside him and he looked up to find Dain. "Go to sleep."

"In a little while," Fili said. "Someone should be here when she wakes up." He looked at the next cot over where Kili had fallen back to asleep. Fili had pulled it over from some other tent, but he hardly remembered doing it. It had happened in a daze

Dain sighed. No matter what he said, he knew it wouldn't change the boy's mind. "Well, you did good yesterday. Very good." He gave him look over. He looked like hell. "How're you holding up?"

Fili rubbed his head, his fingers going though his butchered locks. "I'm alive at least. My hair will grow back, I guess. I'm fine."

Dain nodded. "I'm right proud of you," he said. "Aye, your mother is going to know how well you did here."

"Don't make her worry about me."

He snorted. "If I know your mother, and trust me I know her very well, she's already worn holes through the floor pacing and worrying over you. How long have you been away from home?"

"Half a year. Maybe a little more."

He nodded again. "I'll be writing to her as soon as I can get someone to deliver it. You'd best write her as well."

"I will."

He coughed again. He had a reason for coming here, and while he did mean to see Fili, he'd come to see Bilba. "Here," he said and held out Sting. "They found this out on the field. I was told it belongs to her. Our savior of the hour," he said. "Is it true, she saved you both?"

Fili nodded, and took Sting to prop up against the edge of the cot. "Azog was about to kill Thorin, and she showed up just in time. I was on the ground, I couldn't have gotten to him in time."

He smiled and turned to her sleeping body. "I thank you for saving my cousin's lives. I wish you the swiftest of recovery." He gave Fili a pat on the shoulder. "Get some rest when you can."

When she woke it was early evening. Kili was there, and Fili.

"Bilba, I'm so sorry," Kili cried. "We all love you. You have to know that, right? So, please wake up. Please wake up, Bilba."

Fili wrapped an arm around his brother. "She knows," he said. "She knows, little brother."

"I'm sorry we let this happen," Kili said still talking to her. "We should have protected you better. Thorin's been calling for you and I don't know of you want to see him after everything. He's sorry. And I know that doesn't fix anything. Sorry isn't a magic spell."

But Bilba didn't care. Hobbits don't hold grudges. Not for long.

"I'm sorry," she said through a dry throat, her eyes still shut. She couldn't see the relief that poured over them.

"Don't be sorry," Fili choked. "Why are you sorry? Are you okay? Do you hurt?"

"My head hurts." She cracked one eye and was blessed that it wasn't bright out. "Water?" she asked.

Kili had it and Fili started to lift her head.

"I can sit," she said and started to push herself up. Fili helped her get upright, and she drank slowly. "Thank you."

When she looked Kili was trying to wipe the tears from his face.

"Don't cry," she said. "I don't want to know why you're crying." Her heart was cold in her chest. She didn't want to know what had happened.

"We're happy," Kili blubbered and buried his face into her shoulder. "I thought you were going to die."

Oh. Oh, her sweet boys. She wrapped her arms around him and hushed him. "Oh, Kili." She rubbed circles on his back. "Hush now. Everything is okay. It's all okay, I promise."

She looked to Fili and motioned him to come closer. She wrapped him in a hug too. "It's okay," she whispered. The boy cried into her hair. All at once he was five years old and had no shame in his tears. He'd been holding back for so long. He wasn't a prince but a child who ached and needed comfort from his sister and longed for his mother. "Shh, shh," she rocked slightly. "You brave idiots. What am I going to do with you? Big sisters are supposed to keep you safe."

Kili laughed as he wiped his eyes again. "Surely you're the little sister."

"I'm the big sister if I say I am."

She smoothed out Fili's hair. It was jagged and uneven and she didn't want to ask what had happened. He just clung tighter as she gently ran fingers through his locks. He didn't want to let her go.

"Are you both okay?"

"We're fine," Kili swore, and Bilba knew it was a lie. His chest was bandaged and his arm was in a sling.

"And everyone else?"

"Alive. We're all alive. And awake now that you've woken up." He picked at the edge of the cot with his good hand. "Uncle's been asking after you. He's been really worried. Do you think you can walk?" Kili asked. "Or... I mean, do you even want to see him? If you don't we understand."

"I might need help walking," she said.

"You don't have to see him," Fili mumbled into her shoulder. "It's his fault you got hurt."

"I went into battle on my own," she told him. "He did hurt me, but I'm too worried about him to care right now. I know that moron got himself hurt badly."

He finally sat back from her. "He's sorry. He's so sorry he cut off his braids. He doesn't deserve you."

"Maybe not, but I get to decide that."

Fili nodded. "He's in the next tent."

They helped her over, and he was awake when she came in but he couldn't look at her. Wouldn't. She sank down into the chair by his bed and the brothers quietly slipped out, though they didn't want to.

"Don't you dare tell me to leave," she said. "Not after everything. I need to be here."

He was quiet and turned his face away. He'd spent most of the day agonizing over what he'd done to her, and he'd come to a decision on how to handle it. He didn't imagine seeing her would hurt so much though, knowing he'd have to say what he was going to say. He wasn't sure he could do this.

She shouldn't have come to him. Why would she lower herself to that? He was rust, and she was... worth the world.

"Thorin?" She sighed and looked away from him. Sorry, she thought. This is sorry? Her heart hurt. Her whole body hurt because he couldn't even look at her. He just turned to stare at the wall. "If you won't speak, then I will. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I took your stone. I should have found a better way to..." she sighed again. "It's pointless to explain myself. I did what I thought was right. I'm not sorry that I went to them for help. Thorin..." She looked at him, but with his face turned from her she couldn't make out anything. "If you don't want to talk to me that's fine. I'll go once I'm done. You won't have to worry about me again," and she choked on tears then. "I still love you. I still do and they'll call me a fool for it." She wiped her eyes but it did little good. "I understand you were sick. I knew it and I tried my best to make you better and I failed you. So, I'm sorry. But sick or not I got hurt. In time I'll forgive that. I don't even know if it matters to you if I do or not. You won't even look at me! I guess, just, I wish we could start over. That's all. If you want your beads back I'll leave them here or... or give them to Fili or Kili to give to you if you'd rather I just go now. At least say something. I know you're awake. Just nod if you want me leave. Something!" she pleaded. "I can't take this." She buried her face in her hands. "You're so frustrating! I hate you sometimes!" She slammed her fists into her lap and turned to him. "Talk to me! I'm sorry for what I did! Isn't that enough for you!? What more do I have to do? Is there some stupid dwarven penance I have to do?! Talk to me!" she shouted.

She was sorry? Mahal, what had he done? He'd broken her. He'd ruined her. He took the very person he loved and hurt her until she was the sorry one. It was twisted. He was disgusting. He was going to be sick.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called for you. You should go," he said so quietly she could barely hear him. He wasn't worthy her. He should have died in the battle.

It shattered what was left of her heart.

"That's it? What I did was so bad that... That's just it? There's nothing I can do to be forgiven? I... at least want to part on good terms. Can't you at least lie and tell me it's okay?" She cried. She cried until she was hoarse and her eyes were red. "Do you really hate me that much? Did you tell Kili and Fili lies just to get me here so you could hurt me again?"

If her knees weren't too weak to stand on she would have left. She would've gone and walked and never looked back. She would have gone home and crawled into her bed and never come out again. But she couldn't stand. She couldn't even hold up her head.

"I wish I had died," he said. "Because there is nothing in this world I could ever do to be worthy of your forgiveness. I wish I'd left you in the Shire where you belong. I don't deserve to look at you, or be near you, let alone hear your voice. You are right. You are a fool. No one should ever love me. Certainly not now and certainly not you. Never," he said. "Never think anything here was your fault. You are alive and loved and have nothing to ask forgiveness for. That's why you should leave. You will not find happiness here. Go home to your hills and smile again. Please, just go." It gutted him as much as the gash in his side to say it.

"I want to stay. You told me I could stay. You wanted me to stay here, remember! Please. Please don't send me away."

"I have no right to ask anything of you, but I would ask you never see me again. It will be better for you."

"You're right," she snapped. "You don't have the right." She was shaking, and she didn't know if it was exhaustion or anger or sadness. She buckled and curled in on herself. "You won't even give me the dignity of looking at me. Why should I listen to anything you say?!" She reached back and pulled until the beads came out of her hair and she stared at them. "I didn't run into the middle of a war for someone I didn't think was worthy, you clothead. Now, give me your hand!"

He sighed.

"Look at me!"

Finally, he turned his head to look at her. Her head swathed in bandages and her throat purple and blue. Her face was red and streaked with tears. If looks could kill he'd be dead.

"Now, give me your hand."

He slowly lifted his hand towards her and she put the beads into his palm.

"You listen to me, Thorin rocks-for-brains Oakenshield, those beads are mine. You're going to give them back to me one day. Our courtship ended. That doesn't mean we can't try again. Okay? And you answer me this time."

"Bilba, I-"

She cut him off. "I'm only going to except one answer."

He chewed the inside of his cheek and didn't speak.

She huffed. "Fine then. I'll come back when you're ready to talk to me like a sensible adult." She grimaced and forced herself up on wobbly knees. "Whichever one of you is out there, would you help me?" she said towards the front of the tent, knowing at least one of the boys sat outside. Kili came in instantly and wrapped an arm around her. She turned to look over her shoulder as she left. "I will be back," she said. "I'm not leaving."

She exhausted herself by getting worked up with Thorin and slept until the next morning.

Fili was finally sleeping when she woke up. He was finally too tired to keep his eyes open. Kili was sitting up by his side, but she could tell his thoughts where elsewhere.

She brushed a hair off of Fili's forehead and looked over to Kili. "Good morning."

"Morning," he said distracted.

"What's wrong?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing."

"Right."

"It's just... Tauriel. They took her away back to Mirkwood first thing with the worst injured. I'm worried is all. She got poisoned protecting me and now she might be dying."

"You were poisoned protecting her too," she said gently.

"Not as badly. I mean I feel sick but I'm fine," he said. But he was pale and looked shaken as a leaf in autumn.

"You are not," she said. "You were shot in the arm. Poisoned. You're very lucky you're alive, let alone out of bed."

"She was shot in the back."

Bilba nodded quietly. "I'm sure she'll pull through. Do you... do you want to write her a letter? So she'll have it when she's better to read. I'm sure she's worried about how you are. I know if I risked my life for someone I'd want to know they're okay," she said.

"You did risk your life," he said completely unamused.

"I did. It makes me the expert. She's going to want to know you're okay."

He hummed. "I'm not good at writing letters. They're always dull. I... No. It's nothing."

She stared at him and waited.

"It's just... None of the others would understand really. I like her, even if she is an elf. I like her a lot, I think. I've thought about her since we got out of Mirkwood. I know it's childish. She probably hasn't thought of me at all. I thought we hit it off though, considering."

She smiled and nodded carefully. "You want to go, don't you."

"I have too many people here who need looking after..." he said watching his brother.

"But you do want to go," she said softly. "I understand. You're in no condition though."

He nodded. "I just want to help her however I can."

She looked him over and sighed. "Give it a few days. If you're well enough and you want to leave I won't stop you. I can't say anything for anyone else, but I understand," she said as she watched Fili sleep. His brows furrowed with his dreams and she gently hushed him with the words of an old hobbit lullaby.

When he was still again she give him a kiss on the forehead. She stood and did the same to Kili. She hugged him to her chest for a long moment, and carded fingers through his hair. "I'll do my best to take care of them for you, and I'll keep Fili from trying to follow you away."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and let out a shattered sob. Just one. The tears of a tired boy ready for the world to go back to normal. Too tired to even cry.

"Shh, nadad. Shh."

She left Kili so that he could sleep more and found herself checking in on the company. While she'd been told everyone was okay, she had still yet to see for herself.

Bifur was awake when she came in. He said a few things to her and waved excitedly. Bofur was sitting beside him, his back to her as she came in. He turned to look over his shoulder and was already grinning ear to ear. "Bilba! Come over here! Listen to this." He was practically bouncing with excitement as he offered her his chair and went to get another. "It's not much yet, and it might take a minute before he can manage it again. Can you believe he's speaking in Westron!? It's not much, mind. Just a word or two gets through the khuzdul."

"That's wonderful," she said. "What have you been able to say?" she asked Bifur.

Bofur beamed. "Well he managed to swear at a doctor. And he said something about his head hurting. What was it you said?" he asked. "My bloody axe hurts!" He laughed and Bifur nodded, still smiling. "Axe was in khuzdul," he said.

Bifur said something and Bofur shook his head. "That wasn't rude. It was true. You did say it khuzdul. He wants you to think he managed the whole sentence without."

"You'll get it eventually. I know you will," she smiled. "What did it? The knock to your head?"

"They hit the axe!" Bofur said. "Scared me to death. I thought he was going to drop dead the second it happened."

Bifur said something that made Bofur laugh but ended with tapping the side of his head. His accent was thick and his words slow, but she definitely understood him. "Was head knock, Bilba."

Only three of the company were still bedridden, and they were antsy and ready to get up. There were a few broken bones here and there. Bofur had broken his hand, and Bombur had broken his foot.

Dwalin was still in bed and complaining about his cracked ribs when she poked her head in. Ori's arm had been broken in two places, but he was sitting by Dwalin's bed, rolling his eyes. "It's not that bad," Ori said.

"They won't even let me out of this bed. Of course it's bad. I'm going to go crazy."

"It's not like you're here alone. I've been here all day, and I'll not be leaving anytime soon."

Dwalin laughed. "The cot's not big enough for two."

Ori smacked his arm with his good hand. "Don't even start. You're hurt."

"Oh, aye, I'm dying," he said and clutched at his heart and feigned weakness. "There's not a cure but a bigger bed and someone to share it with."

"You big baby."

"Oi!"

"You two are terrible," Bilba finally said and they both turned to look at her. "Like a pair of tweens."

Dwalin snorted. "Says the girl who would rather black out than see the healers because she needs to make sure someone she was assured was very much alive was actually alive."

"Shut up," she frowned. "I just wanted to see if you were both okay. I'll leave you to whatever you were doing," she said.

She nearly ran into Dori as she was leaving. His eye was twitching as he caught sight of his brother and Dwalin. Bilba held up her hands. Before she could say anything he crossed his arms. "I'll let it slide for today." He gave her a look over and hugged her. "I heard you were up, and I wanted to see you before I left."

"Where are going?" she was suddenly worried.

"Oh, just out there," he said pointing to the field. "Nori went out earlier or he'd be here to see you too. Don't fret. We're looking for survivors."

Gandalf was in a healer's tent with Oin and Gloin. His arm was in a sling. Her heart clenched when she saw Beorn laying on a cot, bloody bandages lying loose around his body. Oin was bent over him applying an antibiotic to a hole in his back.

"Gandalf?" she looked up.

"Oh, you're up. How are you?"

"I've got a headache, but I'm fine. What happened to Beorn?"

"I got shot," he said as he twisted his head to see her. "And how are you faring, little Bunny?"

"I'm well enough."

"Good. Your prince would kill me if I let anything bad happen to you," he smiled, but it quickly became as wince as Oin prodded a sore spot. "Master dwarf, I have told you not to do that."

Gandalf put an arm on her back. "Let's go somewhere a little less noisy. I'd like to talk."

He took her back into her tent, both Fili and Kili completely asleep inside, and she thought for a minute he meant to put her back in bed too. Instead just smiled and sat down beside her and picked up her sword.

"Before you say anything, I need to ask a question," Bilba said.

"Anything."

"No one knows anything about it. Please tell me you know what happened Coräc."

Gandalf smiled. "Brilliant young bird, he is. Possibly the fastest flier I know of. He flew clear to the Misty Mountains and back. He is incredibly tired and resting at Ravenhill. I'm sure he'll around as soon as he's awake."

"Good. I was scared. And what of Bard? I haven't seen him around."

"He's well. A bit battered, but well. He's been very busy." Gandalf had been meeting with him, Thranduil and Balin not long ago trying to decided the next best course of action. "Now, I heard about the ultimatum you gave Thorin."

"Oh, you mean about not leaving?"

He smiled. "Yes, and about those courting beads. I have to admit, I thought you'd be going home after all of this. Isn't that what you said?"

"Sometimes I don't know what I want," she said. "Right now I want to see all of my friends well again. And, I want to see Thorin and myself back on good terms. If we never court again, well there is hardly anything I can really do. I was upset when I said all of that. I just don't want to leave things this bad between us if I can. I did mean what I said before though. I'll never stand between him and some treasure again. If the day ever comes again I will leave... and I don't think I'll look back."

"A good plan."

"How'd you hear about me saying that anyway, if I may ask?"

"You were quite loud," he said stroking his beard. "And Kili also tends to gossip. Dori may have found out... and he gossips a good deal more. I'm sure half of the camp knows. You've become a bit of a celebrity. A hero."

She shook her head. "Hardly. I was barely part of the battle at all. I wasn't awake for most of it."

"This is your story, Bilba Baggins. Who are you if not the hero?"

She didn't know anymore. She was here on his whim and had made it this far through only her luck and some literal magic.

But stories of journeys and quests come with the hero, and the monster. A someone who needed saving. A band of companions. The knights and the hunters and the loyal soldiers.

She wasn't the hero. She might have bought Thorin and Fili some time but... she didn't save the day.

"I'm just a hobbit."

Gandalf put Sting into her hands and gave her a pat on the arm. "Why can you not be both? Not every hero must slay a dragon, or reclaim a mountain. The deeds of ordinary folk can be for more heroic sometimes. One day I think you'll understand that kindness and love can be more inspiring than a man with a sword."

"You sound like Old Took."

He smiled. "And so I should. I told him almost the exact same thing once, though it was in reference to your mother, I admit. Gerontius may have had many great adventures, but he did not save lives. And if I hear you even think to say you have not saved any lives along this journey then I will have you put back in bed until your head has healed and you see sense."

"Fine, fine. I suppose I have made some difference." She smiled and turned her sword over in her hands. "It's a nice little sword," she said. "And now it's been to battle."

"And done great deeds," Gandalf added.

She nodded. "Yes, I suppose it has. I do think it deserves an inscription, don't you? Much like Glamdring and Orcrist have."

"That sounds like a fine idea."

Balin, she learned was also out on the field with Dain, combing the dead for living.

Bombur was sitting at a fire cooking something when she came up. Bofur was with him trying to slice a potato with his good hand.

"Here," she said and took it from him. "I can do it."

"Thank you, lass. I would have been here all night."

She smiled and settled down with a bowl of vegetables and a knife. "How is Bifur?"

"Fell asleep not too long ago. I didn't get any more words out of him, but he tried. He hasn't been this enthusiastic about trying to retrain his tongue since just after he lost it."

She nodded. "I'm glad at least something good came out of all this fighting."

"I appreciate the help," Bombur said. "But shouldn't you be resting?"

Bilba shook her head. "Trust me, this helps me more than you know. It keeps my mind off of everything."

Bombur nodded. "Don't push yourself."

"Oh, I have enough people running around after me asking if I'm okay, if I need to sit down. If I need anything I will ask."

Bofur laughed. "No you won't. I know for a fact you won't. You never do. You didn't ask for help after your first run in with Azog, you didn't ask for help when you were blind in the forest, and you wouldn't take any help when we were locked in Mirkwood. We had to force you to take help when you got sick. Do I need to recount more instances? Because there are more."

She held up her hands. "Okay, okay! I get it," she said and started adding the vegetables into the soup.

She had two bowls in her hands as she ducked into Thorin's tent.

"Bilba, wha-"

"Look, I've made soup," she said, cutting him off. "Well, sort of. Now, before you say anything, Thorin, I'm not leaving. So just... Oh!" She didn't expect to find him half naked trying to looked under his bandages.

She put the soup down and reached out to grab Thorin by the wrist. "Stop picking at it! You're going to make it worse."

"It's fine."

"It's not fine."

"Yes, it is," he growled and pulled his wrist back. His side itched enough to drive him crazy. "You're not my nurse."

"I may as well be. Stop picking!"

He gave her a frustrated look, but dropped his hands into his lap.

"Good," she said. "I helped Bombur make soup." She sat down with a half smile directed at him. "I know it's not much, but I did promise you dinner. For now this will have to do. Once I can get real ingredients and a kitchen, well," she waved her hand around. "At least it's hot."

"You're still here," he said in a tired voice.

"Did you expect me to ride away on a pony I don't have, into a dark forest full of spiders, without a guide, and with a concussion?"

He winced. "I meant... here. In my tent."

She nodded and blew into the steam over the bowl. "Yes, well, I've decided to ignore you."

"Bilba-"

"Eat!" she said, popping the spoon into his open mouth.

He swallowed and held out his hands for the bowl. He could feed himself. He took another spoonful and smiled at her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, I can either sit with you, or," she sighed, "If you'd prefer I'll go somewhere else."

"I... Stay. I'd enjoy some company."

She ducked her head to try and hide her smile.

Sometime after eating, and after Bilba had gone, Thorin forced himself up from bed and out into the world. Gloin threatened to carry him back to his bed and strap him there. Thorin only hit him in the leg with his crutch. "I have yet to see either of my nephews," he said by way of explanation.

Gloin was at least sympathetic. "Well if Kili is awake I'd be surprised," he said. He crossed his arms and looked across the way to where he'd last seen the boys. "Fili's absolutely depressed though. I can't say I blame him," he said and motioned a hand towards his head. "Won't even talk about it. Won't say how it happened. Nothing."

Thorin nodded. He nearly opened his mouth to say what he'd seen. His flesh and blood held high in the air by Azog, his fist twisted in his hair. How Fili cut himself free.

"Better to lose your hair than endure death," Thorin said.

Gloin nodded. "Aye. I still feel bad for him though." He pointed to the tent Bilba had been kept in, and Fili and Kili had taken up residence in. "He's probably in there."

Kili was snoring and sounded like a wild boar. Fili sat at a mirror with a sharp dagger in his lap as he contemplated how to best go about fixing what remained. Where he'd found the mirror was anyone's guess.

Thorin came in quietly and sat down silently next to Fili, unsure what to say, and Fili was unsure how to feel about everything. He went back to absently touching his hair.

"Fili?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust me?"

He sighed and contemplated the dagger in his lap. He held it out without looking at him. "I don't really know right now."

Thorin nodded and for a while quietly looked over his nephew's head before deciding on how to cut it.

"You did well," he said. "You're going to be a great king, Fili."

"Yeah, well, I don't want to be king yet."

Thorin nodded. "I don't blame you. I'm sorry I ever had to put this burden on you." He brought the knife up and began to take away small pieces of hair. "I promise you and your brother I will find a way to gain your trust again. I'll do whatever it takes."

He didn't say anything back. It was still too raw. He wasn't sure if he'd ever trust him again right now. In days the to come the hurt would be less, in days to come he would hug his uncle and remember he was the man who he still looked up to as a father, but today he didn't want to think of it.

"Our company and Bilba. I promise all of you."

He swallowed as some hair fell past his eyes.

When Thorin finished he sat the knife down beside Fili. His hair curled below his ears, and among the salvaged hair was one braid that had not been taken from him.

"Azog did this to you, and you bravely fought him. Without you he would still be alive. Wear it like a badge of honor. Today this is not a mark of shame, it the mark of a hero."

When Fili turned to look at him he was leaning over Kili's bed and feeling his head for a fever like he were a child still. He moved a stand of hair from his cheek and pressed a kiss to his brow. "Saved by an elf," he said with a short laugh. "Who would have thought."

Bilba found herself sitting alone out on a large rock. The tent city bustled, and there was a slow but contrast stream of people being moved into the mountain.

She was left to be by herself. Left to think and process everything and just breathe easy for a moment. She must of sat there an hour or more. The sun was setting in pinks and blues and golds. Eventually she heard the soft clack of a crutch and a few grunts come up from behind.

"You're still here," Thorin said.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm still here."

He shuffled around and climbed up to sit beside her. "I'm glad you're here. I don't think I meant what I said before."

"Hm."

"I'm not the best at always saying what I want to say," he admitted.

She nodded, and the edge of her lips quirked up. "I have noticed that."

He smiled. "You will always have a place here with us. I only want to see you happy again."

She bumped her shoulder into his lightly. "Let me tell you a little secret. I'm not fragile. I'm not broken. I was sad, and some part of me is sad still. Thorin, you're alive. Everyone is alive. I am happy. Okay?" She put her hand on his. "I'm happy. What about you?"

"Relieved. Grateful. My company and kin live. You live. So, I am happy as well," he said and he meant it.

"Good. So now we just take it one day at a time. We work on burying the dead, we see to treaties between Bard and Thranduil, and we start rebuilding."

"We?"

She looked over at him. "I don't want to go."

He nodded. "I don't really want you to go either."

"So, what do you say then? Can we start over again?" There was so much hope behind her voice it made his chest flutter.

"I'd be a fool not to try for someone so willing to give me a second chance."

"We all deserve second chances," she said. She straightened her back and turned towards him. "Right. Well, nice to meet you. My name is Bilba Baggins."

He laughed. "Seriously?"

She waited, smile still plastered to her face.

"Thorin Oakenshield," he said with a small bow of his head and a roll of his eyes. "It is a pleasure, Miss Baggins."

"And now that we are introduced," she said clapping her hands together, "Now we become friends. What do you suggest we do to reacquaint ourselves?"

"I have no idea."

She shrugged. "Well, once we're both not so grimy I think, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to try braiding your hair. And you can do mine."

He nodded. "That sounds reasonable."

She beamed at him. "This is wonderful!"

"Bilba?"

"Yes?"

"Can I kiss you?" he asked.

She laughed. "Oh, very well then. But that doesn't mean we're courting again," she said.

His kiss was soft, and his beard was rough. They lingered, foreheads pressed together, and Thorin's arms around her. Mahal, what had he done in his life to deserve her.

She started to laugh softly. "You smell like an orc."

He cracked a smile. "I apologize. Though you don't smell much better, mizim."

"Don't mizim me. How rude," she said and kissed his forehead. "You are not starting this second try off very well, are you?"

"Forgive me. You smell of flowers in spring and all things hobbits consider good smells."

"You're hopeless."

THE END