Our Mistake, Their Fate

Bilbo watched with horror as Smaug vanished from sight.

Was that it? The right word? Horror? It was horrible to watch the dragon leave, fly off towards Lake Town. Horror, dread, sadness, anger, regret, guilt. It was all of those, combined, twisted into some deep emotion that made his knees weak, his stomach sick. There were too many emotions waging war in his body, far too many to contain in such a little body of his.

He leaned back against the rubble, sliding down to sit upon the dust-covered ground. Whatever happened in Lake Town now was going to be on their hands. Their hands... His hands, they were going to be as good as covered with the blood of all of those in Lake Town, those new friends... The Master, the townspeople, the ones who had put their hopes on them to slay the dragon and take back Erebor. They had expected riches, lavish lives full of gold beyond their wildest dreams.

What they were getting instead was death.

Instead of gold raining down upon them, fire would. Instead of lavish lives, they would have a town burned to the ground. Instead of riches, they would have bloodshed.

And it was all their fault.

Bard had told them not to go to the Mountain; countless people had told them not to. But it had never mattered, not really, because, back in the Shire or back in Rivendell, those people had never been in danger. They could say do it or don't do it and it wouldn't really matter to them. But Lake Town was different, Lake Town lived under the dragon, with the dragon... They were in reach of the dragon and now they were going to die.

Bilbo pressed his hands, shaking, against his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. His entire body was shaking, actually, had been, since running hither and thither around in their dragon evading scheme. That was understandable. Smaug was a big dragon and he was a little hobbit. But now he was trembling for totally different reasons.

He could see the fire, the town burning beneath his closed eyelids. The imagined screams were going to haunt his nightmares for years to come. He didn't want to see the destruction Smaug would cause, and yet, he would.

Even if he didn't witness Lake Town burning with his own eyes, he would forever be haunted by the fact that he and his friends had caused hundreds upon hundreds of deaths.

Bilbo put his face in his hands and took a deep breath, trying not to let the nightmares unfold in his mind. He wasn't a hero, after all. He was a burglar, a thief, and, like Smaug had said, a liar... And, now, he was a murderer, too.

He wasn't a hero at all.

He was barely even a hobbit anymore.

Set right at the end of DoS... Poor Bilbo. :(He's not used to this guilt lark.

I don't own The Hobbit. I would love your reviews, of course, though. :) Thank you.