Disclaimer: I do not own Hobbit.

Previously:

Sneer still in place the white Orc stepped aside and for the first time Bilbo caught sight of the black, swirling void that hung in the air. Vaguely humanoid, there was no doubt that this was the source of the death and decay of the forest around him. A shiver of pure revulsion wrecked the Hobbit's small frame.

The being laughed, or what Bilbo could only guess was a laugh, "Bow to your new master, Halfling, your about to join our ranks."

A necromancer.

Bilbo's last feeling was that of absolute terror before the darkness was back, crushing at his body and mind, and then everything went black.

A Hobbits Tale – The White Wizard

Chapter Four

The Necromancer

It was the shifting of gravel near him and the hard, cold stone under his cheek that alerted Bilbo to the fact that he was not, as he had been expecting, dead.

In fact, from the massive pounding in his head that felt like a dwarf had taken a hammer to his head over and over again, he was very much alive. He was in too much pain not to be.

"Ah see you finally awake. Took you a while," Bilbo startled, trying to push himself up at the unexpected words, but collapsed with a loud groan when his head throbbed even harder in response to his movement.

Whoever it was snorted, "You don't look to good. They did quite a number one you, youngling. Put up and impressive fight, though; I don't think the Orc's have ever been so fidgety about a prisoner."

Bilbo blinked, trying to get the spots from his eyes. The longer he was awake the more aware he was of his magic, which was sluggish and slow to respond. Forcing himself to his knees he glanced around with a frown.

It looked like he was in some sort of hanging cadge, hung over the cliff. He couldn't see the bottom. The bars were rusted metal and it was possible that he could break them without using magic, which didn't want to respond at the moment, but he didn't want to go plunging down into the abyss.

The final, and slightly surprising, conclusion to his observation was his fellow prisoner. He was an older dwarf, by the looks of his light grey hair and tired eyes. He had his own hanging cadge just a little way down from Bilbo's own.

Deciding that the best source of answers was the dwarf Bilbo directed his confusion toward him, "Do you know what happened?"

The Dwarf shrugged, "From what I could see, youngling, part of their fortress exploded out all the way into the forest. It was so big I could see it all from right here," he chuckled, "And as of the last couple years I haven't been able to see hardly anything."

The dwarf smiled slightly at him, "It was a spectacular show."

The words ended in a rough, irritated cough that jarred the entire dwarf's cadge into swinging back and forth.

Bilbo blinking at the harsh sound and frowned, "Are you all right."

The dwarf waved his hand in dismissal as the cough softened to a wheeze, "It comes and goes. Nothing is ever truly healthy after spending a while here."

"And how long have you been here?"

The Dwarf shrugged again, "forty or fifty years, give or take a few. They found me not long after the battle of Moria and I haven't been able to escape yet."

Bilbo nearly felt his mouth unhinge. The battle of Moria had been what, sixty of seventy years ago? That was long time to be in a prison. In fact, why were they even keeping him alive?

"Why do they keep you around?" Bilbo asked, curious.

The dwarf looked away sadly, "I have information that they desperately want, but I refuse to give it to them," he shifted slightly and Bilbo's eyes widened as he realized that the dwarf had no right hand, "no matter how much pain they put me through."

"I-I'm sorry," Bilbo ducked his head as a shudder went through his spine. If this dwarf had been put through so much just for information then what would they do to him?

As if sensing Bilbo's distress the dwarf's eyes softened, "Don't worry lad," he spoke kindly, "No matter what happens I'll help you through it."

Bilbo shuddered again, shutting out the vivid imaginations of his mind, "Thanks . . ." he took a deep breath and looked up at the dwarf with determination. He would make it through this, and he would escape, even if he died trying, "My name is Bilbo by the way."

The dwarf grinned and waved his one good hand in a slightly deranged manner, "Nice to meet you, Bilbo. You can call me Thráin."

0~o~0

Bilbo didn't realize until much latter just how much Thráin's imprisonment had effected the old dwarf. On good days the dwarf was up and energetic, ready to talk and comfort him when he came back from his 'sessions' with the Necromancer. He had come to find the he relied on the dwarf to keep him from submitting. If the dwarf could do it, then he could too.

On the bad days however, Thráin was incoherent. The dwarf would curl in on himself, hugging his knees while he muttered nonsense and stared off into the distance as if he could see things that no one else could. Often, the old dwarf would confuse Bilbo with someone else.

This was how Bilbo came to know about Thráin's son, Thorin.

Sometimes Bilbo wondered what had happened to Thráin's family and why he always spoke of them in such broken tones. Then he would look around him and remember exactly where they were and what had probably happened to them.

He didn't have the heart to ask, and Thráin never volunteered the answer to his internal questions.

"Thráin," Bilbo spoke up from his cage, turning his gaze from a new cut on his shoulder to look at the slightly insane dwarf. He had just come back from another questioning from the Necromancer and he wasn't feeling that great, but he knew he had to ask, "Do you think that we are ever going to get out of here?"

Thráin stopped humming for a moment, his eyes clearing in a moment of clarity as he turned to Bilbo with determination glowing in his eyes, "Do you want to escape?"

Bilbo hesitated for a moment and glanced down at his many, many scars. If he did make it out, doubtful as that would be, he would never be the same Hobbit that he had been back at the Shire. He was too hardened, he had seen too much, but what other option did he have? Death? Giving in to the Necromancer?

Licking his dry, cracking lips Bilbo met the older dwarf's eyes, "Yes, I-I do want to escape."

Thráin smiled brightly, "Then you'll find a way."

His speech done, Thráin turned back to his humming staring off into space as Bilbo settled down for another long night. As the words sank in he turned his speculative gaze to the dwarf who had helped him so much in the past few weeks. He had been here for a long, long time . . .

Did Thráin want to escape?

. . . Or had he accepted that he would never make it out alive.

Feeling his breath hitch at the thought Bilbo turned away. He had grown to regard the other as a second father and he didn't want to lose him just yet. Determination burned within him; no mater what happened he was going to get Thráin out of here.

0~o~0

"Bow to your master, Halfling!" a tall Orc shoved Bilbo onto the hard stones before the swirling mass of darkness.

Bilbo gritted his teeth angrily as he bit back his automatic snarl of "That monster is not my master!" He had learned after the first several 'sessions' that is was better to remain silent through whatever happened.

Actions spoke louder than words, and words always got you hurt. His silence was his own form of defiance.

The swirling darkness above him seemed to pulse even faster and Bilbo began to feel nervous. Something was . . . different. Bilbo had yet to see Thráin that day. He had been taken away for questioning the night before and had yet to return. This was unusual as normally the old dwarf would have been returned to hid cadge alongside Bilbo's after a few hours.

Bilbo pushed down his nervousness, however, and glared up at the cloud of blackness. A trail of blood trickled through his lips where his lip had spit due to the cold and lack of water.

As expected, the wave of darkness crashed down at him and Bilbo shut his eyes gasping slightly as he felt the pure evil pressing at him from all sides. If he hadn't already been kneeling then he would have crumbled. His magic, weak from the constant battering day after day, rose to the surface in defense.

Even his magic, however, could not protect him from the vicious words.

Halfling, and not even a full grown one . . .

Weak, oh so weak, you don't deserve this power. Give up . . .

Your own parents didn't understand, and then they left you . . .

No one else will accept you if they knew. Your magic is a curse . . .

Give in to us . . .

Give in to us . . .

Give in-

No!

Bilbo gasped crumbling forward as he felt his magic start to speed up, something it had not done since his first encounter with the Necromancer. His arm, legs, and head burned as his heart began to beat faster in response to his magic. More magic than he had ever known he had channeled through him, burning like fire his blood as it circulated through his body. Too much . . .

With a scream the condensed magic exploded outward, forcing the darkness back with a howl of pain as a dome of light expanded from his form, extending outward and washing over the dark rocks. The Orcs screamed and scrambled backwards as the light burned them.

From the ground Bilbo was unaware of it all, simply trying to keep the wild magic from tearing him apart.

Too much, too much, too much . . .

His blurry eyes picked out movement from next to him and he turned slightly but he couldn't see clearly through his pain.

"Let's get you out of here," a voice spoke, but Bilbo could not hear. The wild magic, satisfied that it had driven back the evil taint, even if only for a little while, snapped back and Bilbo lost consciousness.

When he woke again he would find himself in the darkened woods not far from Dol Goldor with a worried, slightly worse for ware, dwarf hovering over him.

"Ah see you are awake."

Why did he get the feeling that this seemed familiar?

0~o~0

Ah, yes. I bet none of you were expecting that! It's Thorin's dad!

(Cackles)

I actually do have a plan for this story, I just am having a hard time writing it with my tight schedule and other stories that I have to plan and write. Sometimes the real world is such a pain.

Anyway, if any of you have any ideas about what is going to happen in the next chapter be ready, it's a shocker.

See you next time (Weeks? Months? Hopefully not as long as last time.).

(Updated: 1/1/2016)