Three: Sir Dori and the Spiders

Bilbo ran blindly through the dark wood, gasping for breath as he stumbled over things and became covered in spider webbing. His friends were gone. There had been an eerie silence when he had shouted down from the top of the tree which way they needed to go. The air had been heavy, damp, still when the hobbit had reached the forest floor. There had been no sign of the dwarves. He was alone – except for the huge spiders.

If only he could hide, become invisible he might have a chance! Alas, he had lost his magic ring. A feeling of great loss, abandonment, crashed over him again. He must find it, get it back! But to turn back would be folly. He knew what was behind, urging him on.

Suddenly a curdling shriek rang out, causing the hairs on the back of the hobbit's neck to stand up on end. Something pulled violently at his leg, and Bilbo went down with a scream, landing on his back. Wildly, desperately, he swung his blade at his attackers. Forms darker than the gloom swarmed around him. Only the seemingly countless red beady eyes could he make out. He could not stop yelling, swinging, trying to escape. His weapon jerked out of his hand. A fierce pain shot through his body. He choked. Felt being lifted up. No. Please.

A bolt of white light illuminated the wood, silhouetting the large beasts, blinding them. Their pained wailing set Bilbo's teeth on edge. Shaking, fire spreading through his limbs, head groggy, he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Back villains!" a voice shouted. "You will not take him!"

Bilbo whimpered as the white light intensified. Vaguely he registered being dropped onto the ground, the shadows around him retreating. Cries, thuds, cracks, and booming laughter filled the air, gradually dying down. The hobbit gasped when strong arms lifted him up, cradled him against a broad chest protectively.

"They shall never harm you again."

Blinking his eyes, the Halfling gazed up at a dazzling knight. He took in the glowing face, the silver hair and beard, shining eyes.

"Never again, Bilbo."

Sighing, the little creature closed his eyes, clinging to the promise like a lifeline.

Dori exhaled deeply when Bilbo turned his face into his chest, his frightened trembles ceasing, murmuring something that sounded like, "Sir Dori" followed by two weak coughs before falling back asleep. Slowly the dwarf's eyes moved over the creature. Aye. He seemed fine. Sleep now peaceful. Free of nightmares.

Perched on the edge of the large bed with the Halfling nestled against him, Dori glanced over at his knitting lying on the seat of the chair which he'd abandoned when Bilbo had first cried out. His gaze returned to the creature. Cautiously he shifted more onto the mattress, brought his feet up over the side of the bed, and leaned against the headboard, careful not to jostle Bilbo in the progress. Once the blankets covered the hobbit to his satisfaction, and the silver-haired dwarf was comfortable settled, he resumed his watch.

It was the least he could do; keep an eye on their ill burglar. In a way he felt he owed it to Master Baggins. Despite his brothers' warm interactions with the Halfling, and the hobbit proving his worth when he saved Thorin from Azog, the silver-haired dwarf had continued to view the little creature with a wary eye. He had always been distrustful of outsiders.

But now… After having been saved again by the Halfling from the elven king's dungeons; after Dori (to his amazement) was able to soothe him; and after (even more to his shock) witnessing Bilbo's faith in him, feeling safe, going right back to sleep… He wondered how he had won such confidence. Swallowing thickly, the dwarf hesitantly brushed some curls off the hobbit's forehead.

"Thank you, Bilbo. You've done well, little one," Dori murmured quietly, his expression softening. "You'll be all right." He hugged the hobbit closer.

In his sleep Bilbo smiled.

THE END