Title: A Slip of Gold
Author: Ladyholder
Challenge: Quarter 1: Fix-it
Fandom: The Hobbit
Relationship: Thorin/Bilbo, Kili/Tauriel
Warnings: Typical for the movie
Word Count: 15,718
Summary: The dragon was dead. Now they had to survive long enough to live. And Bilbo wasn’t going to let the gold win.

Part I

“What in the hell are you doing?”

“Relax, Master Baggins. All will be well,” Thorin said breezily as he surveyed the hills of gold covering the front hall of Erebor from the top of one.

Bilbo stared at up Thorin for a heartbeat before slanting a glance at Balin. The older dwarrow had his eyes shut with a grimace on his face. “Right, Thorin, we’re here in Erebor, and Smaug is dead. We should be working out how to get the gold covered dragon out of this mountain before anything else. The gold hills can wait.”

Thorin raised one eyebrow at him before frowning at the masses of gold surrounding them. “The gold needs to be counted, Master Baggins. The wealth of Erebor needs to be known.”

“And if we don’t get the dead dragon out of here, the diseases spawned by the rotting corpse will kill us all before we can enjoy that wealth,” Bilbo said evenly. “The gold we used to kill him has encased him, but we can’t be sure that will last for long.”

When Thorin didn’t immediately dismiss his point, Bilbo held his breath. He needed time to figure out how to start mitigating the dragon sickness Thorin was exhibiting, and dealing with the corpse was about the only way he could think of to start the process. He didn’t think Smaug’s corpse was an immediate disease vector due to the bitter cold, but the job still needed to be done.

“Alright, Master Baggins, you make a good point,” Thorin said with a grimace as he slid down the gold. “The thought of rotting dragon bits all over the gold is…”

“Disgusting,” Balin cut in, with an identical grimace on his face. “From what I remember, we got a large shipment of burning rock in right before Smaug invaded the mountain, so we can use that to take care of the body. Because we have no idea what letting him rot would do.”

“Nothing good,” Bilbo said after several seconds of thought. “If you want the Desolation healed and fertile, we must start taking care of it. And that means being careful as we dispose of any waste.”

From the frown that moved over Thorin’s face, he wasn’t happy with the suggestion, but he was going along with it. And hopefully, removing Smaug’s body, then burning it, would go a long way towards breaking the grip the dragon sickness had on him. Thorin looked around Erebor and wrinkled his nose as he breathed in. “What would happen if we dumped all the dragon shite onto the Desolation? Because we can’t restart the mines as they currently are.”

“It would blow away in the winds and get washed into the rivers,” Bilbo said promptly. “If we can’t burn that nasty stuff, it needs to be moved to a specific sheltered location so when I start working on the Desolation, I can incorporate it after confirming it won’t cause any more damage.”

“Right. That would be gross. We drink that water,” Balin said with a shudder. From the faint green tinge that moved over Thorin’s face, he wasn’t behind fouling the Desolation with dragonshite either. “With thirteen of us, it’s going to take some doing to get this going… Thorin, am I remembering right that there’s a paved plaza about a hundred lengths in front of the main doors?”

“I think I remember it. We would have used it for open-air markets, I believe,” Thorin said slowly as his color returned to normal. He sounded unsure, but Bilbo was happy that he was answering the question, instead of continuing to obsess over the gold. “If it is there, we can use that area to burn the body. And the shite if needs be.”

“Good,” Bilbo said firmly. “Now, it’s late, we’ve all had a wretched day, and we need to get some sleep before we start the utterly disgusting task in front of us. So, let’s go get some sleep.”

“Fine,” Thorin said with a rueful grin before moving towards where Bombur had set up their camp.

Bilbo walked behind him and waved at Balin to walk beside him. To keep everything normal, he started asking questions about the ‘burning rock’ that Balin had referred to. It took a little bit, but Bilbo finally figured out what it was. “Coal. We call that stuff coal. We don’t use it for much because it makes whatever we cook on it taste foul, but it works a treat for our blacksmiths.”

“We use it for almost everything that needs heat, lad,” Balin explained. “I know that our cooks have some stoves that burn coal in a separate compartment from where the food is cooked. Our fireplaces are also configured to accept it. While they aren’t as pretty as an open flame, they are warm. And yes, our smiths also use it because it’s an excellent source of heat.”

“I am going to need to see one of these ‘stoves’ before I pass judgment on the idea of cooking on one,” Bilbo said finally. He flashed a quick grin at Balin before raising his voice slightly so Thorin could hear. “I expect that anything that is made by dwarrow to be well done, but hobbits are fussy about what we cook on and with.”

“Really, Master Baggins, you doubt the skill of dwarrow?” Thorin called over his shoulder.

Bilbo grinned at him. “Since I’ve not seen one of these contraptions, I do!”

“Those are fighting words, Master Baggins!” Thorin said with a chuckle. “I shall make sure you are shown one as soon as possible.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Thorin,” Bilbo agreed.

 

Bilbo forced himself awake and slowly blinked as he listened to the dwarrow around him. He slowly assigned names to each of the snores he was hearing until he confirmed the only one not sleeping was Balin. Time to get up, then.

Getting out of his bedroll was wretched. It was cold, and he hated every second of it. If he was going to live in Erebor long-term like he was considering, he needed to make sure that the place was warm enough to be comfortable, because it was stupid cold, and he hated it.

“Lad? Why are you awake?” Balin asked softly. His voice was barely a hiss of sound, and Bilbo padded over to sit beside him as he kept watch.

“I needed to talk to you,” Bilbo said with a small shrug.

“I can guess why,” Balin said. He looked over at Thorin as he slept on and raised an eyebrow at Bilbo. “The dragon sickness?”

“Yes. I asked Gandalf about it when Thrain was brought up, so I could understand what it was. It looks like Thorin has been exhibiting the same symptoms,” Bilbo said just as quietly. He wasn’t whispering because all the dwarrow would wake up if they heard it, but he was quiet. Thankfully, Balin knew that his hearing was excellent and was even quieter.

“I know. It’s confounding since he’s never shown any lust for gold before. He was repulsed at how gold mad his grandfather and father were when we were younger,” Balin said slowly. There was a great deal of confusion and grief in his voice, and Bilbo utterly understood. Because the Thorin they were dealing with was not the same person he’d met in Bag End. “And now… Now, he’s starting to look at the gold in Erebor like his father did.”

“From what Gandalf said, the gold has its own lure, but it’s magnitudes worse since the dragon was nesting in it. If we can get rid of the body and destroy it, from what Gandalf said, it should lessen the lure considerably. Maybe even negate it. But we need to do it soon. The longer the body is allowed to stay with the gold, the harder it will be to root out,” Bilbo explained.

“Right. I’ll let Dwalin and Dori know. Will you take Bofur?” Balin asked. “Do we tell Fíli and Kíli?”

“Can they keep this from Thorin if pressed? And yes, I’ll tell Bofur,” Bilbo said. He took a deep breath before blowing it out slowly. “How quickly can we cut the body into bits?”

“The gold coating Smaug should be soft enough to get through easily, but I don’t know how thick its hide is. Once we have that breached, we should be able to get it cut up in about three days. We’re not going to try for neatness,” Balin said before wrinkling his nose as he thought things over. “We’re strong enough to move most weights easily. The big thing will be to make sure that the chunks are of a size we can transport them.”

“And the boys?” Bilbo asked. As much as he was aware that Fíli and Kíli were older than him, they were still boys.

“I…..” Balin hesitated before he shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“We’re on board with whatever needs to happen to get the mountain clean of Smaug’s influence,” Fíli breathed out from his place in his bedroll. “As gross as it’s going to be, we need to get that thing out of here.”

“Okay. Thank you,” Bilbo said with a smile at Thorin’s heir. “Go back to sleep, Fíli. We’re going to be busy in the morning.”

“I still have an hour on my watch,” Balin said. He glanced at Bilbo before turning his gaze to Fíli. “Both of you go back to sleep.”

Fíli just nodded and rolled back into his bedroll before he relaxed and started to softly snore. Bilbo headed for his own bedroll and slowly worked his way back into it. It was still faintly warm, and he relaxed in his blankets as he tried to quiet his mind enough to allow him to go back to sleep. It took a few minutes before he warmed up, and he slipped off into a much more restful sleep than he’d gotten before.

When he woke up again, the air was filled with the scent of toasted cram. They had nothing else that they could eat, and he bitterly regretted the lost supplies. If they managed to get through the next week without any death or destruction, he was going to advocate purchasing enough supplies from Lake Town to make it through to spring.

 

“Wake up, Master Baggins. We’ve got a lot of work to do today,” Thorin called.

“I miss tea,” Bilbo muttered as he pulled himself out of his bedroll.

“Agreed, Master Baggins,” Dori said from where he was sitting on his bedroll.

“The best I can offer you is water, Bilbo,” Bombur said softly as he held out a slice of cram and a cup of water.

“Thank you, Bombur,” Bilbo said as he accepted his breakfast. The food was utterly bland and boring, but it would allow him to work, so he choked most of it down before putting a small amount aside for a midmorning snack.

“Bilbo raised a valid point yesterday. We need to get Smaug’s corpse out of the mountain before we can start anything. And we can’t just chuck it out the front doors because when it rots, it would befoul the ground and the river,” Thorin announced. He took the time to meet the gaze of each person before moving on to the next. “We’re going to break Smaug down into parts, move them outside Erebor to a plaza that’s outside the gates, and burn it to ashes.”

“Do we have enough fuel to do this?” Glóin asked. He was tapping his fingers against one of the pouches on his belt.

“Right before Smaug invaded, Erebor got a large shipment of burning rock. None of it was used. So, it should be available for us,” Balin said.

“I can use that to build a pyre that will consume the body,” Glóin said after several moments of thought. “With enough of the burning rock, that won’t be an issue. But it’s going to take some time to get it done.”

“Do you mean it’s going to take time to build the fire or time for the fire to burn?” Bofur asked.

“Both,” Glóin said shortly.

“Then the sooner we get started, the better,” Thorin said. He popped the last of his cram into his mouth and stood up. “I saw a bunch of axes in the armory near us, and I think we’re going to need them to get through the wyrms’ hide.”

From the grimaces on everyone’s face, they agreed with him. Bilbo stood up and stared at Kíli. “How’s your calf?”

“Hurting,” Kíli said shortly. “But healed enough that I can help with this.”

“Let’s get going then,” Thorin said with a clap of his hands.

 

“This is so gross,” Fíli said as he picked up one of the ribs that had been piled in front of the gates.

Dwalin grunted in agreement as he swung his ax to break up the next joint. Óin was sharpening the first ax Dwalin had begun using at the start of their day because getting through the hide of the dragon had badly dulled it.

By overwhelming agreement of everyone, the first thing they’d done was take Smaug’s head off. It had been a wretched mess, and things had gone downhill from there. Everyone was filthy, disgusted, and tired, but more than half of the dragon was out of the mountain and layered on the pyre Glóin was building.

“Don’t remind me how gross this is, Fíli,” Bilbo muttered. As the smallest of the group, he had a large skinning knife and was breaking down the soft tissues. “Thorin! I’ve got more gold again.”

Thorin looked over at him from where he was picking up his next rib. “Put it to the side. We’re going to have to melt everything down to clean it. Washing this mess isn’t going to cut it.”

“Fire cleans everything,” Bilbo agreed.

 

Part II

 

“That’s the last of it,” Thorin said as he dumped the final piece of Smaug’s body on the pyre.

“Right,” Glóin said as he dusted his hands off. He’d been fussing with the coal layers to make sure that air could flow through the whole pyre without issue. From what Bilbo could see, the whole thing was built correctly to burn hot and thoroughly. They’d had to use some of the wood they’d found in Erebor to fill everything in and to allow the fire to spread through the structure quickly. “Everyone, stand back, please.”

It took only moments for Glóin to get the fire started, and they all backed up as the flames licked their way through the dry tinder mixed in with the coal. It didn’t take long before the smoke, which had been white, turned black, and the scent of meat started to drift through the air.

“Are you sure we can’t eat it?” Bombur asked softly

“I checked the meat. Bombur.” Bilbo said. He cocked his head to the side as he looked at the fire. “It’s not edible. Thorin, that smoke is going to attract attention.”

“I know, Master Baggins,” Thorin said, voice weary. “But you were right, we had no choice but to get it out of the mountain. Now that it’s gone, we need to rebuild the front walls so we can lock down the mountain.”

“Because Azog might show up and we don’t need to deal with orcs on top of the mess in the mountain,” Dwalin explained sourly. “Right. If we push it, we can get the wall done this afternoon. But first, your nibs, I’m going to wash up in the water that we left to warm over our fire in the mountain. Because I’m disgusted with my state.”

“We all are,” Thorin agreed. “Let’s go get as clean as we can.”

Bilbo agreed as well. Every single one of them was dressed only in their smalls, and all of them had been using the warm water they prepared each morning to get the worst of the gore off themselves. For the dwarrow with long hair, they’d all braided it back severely and wore kerchiefs over it to keep the worst off. It hadn’t worked as well as they’d hoped, but it was better than nothing. “Once I’m as clean as I can get, I’m going to burn the smalls I’m in. Because no. I’m not going to try to save them.”

From the chorus of agreements he received, everyone was onboard with that plan.

 

Since he was not suited for or even able to pick up the stones his dwarrow were sorting for use in the construction, Bilbo collected the basket full of soiled smalls where they had been thrown after they bathed and headed for the pyre. He was going to chuck the whole thing on the fire and dispose of the trash that way.

The fire was burning strongly, and Bilbo threw the basket of linens onto it without much effort. He stepped back from the coals and looked at the massive pile of carrion burning away and sighed softly. “I’m not sorry you’re dead, but I am sorry you made an absolute mess of this place. Nasty bastard.”

As Bilbo started walking back to the gates, his foot slipped off the paved path and hit the dirt of the Desolation, and he hissed in anticipation of the feeling of death that he’d dealt with on the way to Erebor. But it wasn’t there. Just… a sense of waiting. Bilbo stopped and let the Green Magic, that was part of every hobbit, sink into the ground and spread out until he could go no further.

Instead of death and desolation, he found that the whole area within his reach was now just sleeping. And when he prodded the ground, he could feel untold numbers of seeds waiting for spring to grow. The whole valley in front of the gates and the area surrounding the Dale felt like it was slowly stretching its limbs after being frozen in place.

When Bilbo came back up from his impromptu meditation, he opened his eyes to see Kili standing in front of him, and he started slightly. “Oh, dear.”

“Are you alright, Bilbo? When we saw you stop and just stand in place, I was sent down to figure out what the issue was,” Kili said in a small rush. He looked over Bilbo’s shoulder at the pyre and grimaced. “I’m glad we did that now. If we’d waited too long, it’d have stunk to hell. As it is, well.”

“It’s not a great smell, but it’s not the worst,” Bilbo agreed. “I do have some news. I’ll pass it along tonight when we get together to eat. Nothing’s wrong, and I do consider it good news.”

“We could use some good news,” Kili said with a sigh. “We’re about to the point where we’re going to hang the doors again, and Uncle wants you inside when we do. Also, he seems… Calmer since the fire was lit.”

“I know. I noticed. I figure we can talk about that, too,” Bilbo said. He wrinkled his nose as they entered Erebor and sighed. “Once we’ve got the gate back up, we need to start moving all the fouled gold somewhere. Because it stinks.”

Kili grimaced alongside him. “It really does. I’m sure Uncle will be willing to do it.”

“He did mention it,” Bilbo said. He waved at Thorin and the rest of the dwarrow as they worked to get one of the massive doors into place. “I’m going to clean our sleeping area. And refill the water so we can wash again!”

Oin looked over at him from his place sorting stones. “Did you bring soap?”

“Sigrid gave me a bar,” Bilbo confirmed. They had used the one Oin had picked up, and it was a bare sliver after fourteen men had used it to scrub themselves clean of the worst stuff imaginable.

“Good,” Thorin said. He still sounded tired, but since he was working steadily, Bilbo left him to his task. “I’m going to want to scrub again. Bombur? Could you go with Bilbo to help him with the water and maybe see if you can find another cauldron?”

“Certainly,” Bombur said. He set the stone he was carrying down and brushed his hands off before joining Bilbo. The rest of the company returned to their work. “I think I saw a cauldron in one of the rooms we passed.”

“The first set of guard barracks we passed on the way in?” Bilbo asked as he followed Bombur as he made his way to one of the side passages that branched off the main hall.

“Yes. It was destroyed by Smaug when he invaded Erebor, but bits survived,” Bombur reminded. They’d picked over the rubble for wood when they’d been building the pyre and had left everything else behind.  Bilbo hadn’t paid a great deal of attention to that because he’d been too busy with his own chores. “The cauldron we’re using came from there, but I saw another, and I figure we can heat both over the fires. I wouldn’t use either for cooking, but they’ll work a treat to get us clean.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

 

“What did you want to talk about, Master Baggins?” Thorin asked from his spot by the fire.

Bilbo took a careful look at Thorin and let a tendril of his magic out to brush up against his friend. Thorin felt… healthier than he had since before the Stone Giants, and he breathed out a careful sigh of relief. “A bit of better news,” he said, sipping at his water. “When I went to add our destroyed smalls to the burn, I got distracted and stepped off the stones of the plaza and onto the soil of the Desolation.

“As a Hobbit, I am incredibly sensitive to the land I walk on. I can tell the basic health of the ground I stand on due to the magic intrinsic to Hobbits. And when I stepped on the bare earth of the Desolation, instead of feeling the echoes of the day everything died, all I could feel was the sensation of waiting. The land is waiting for spring, and I expect that the seeds that have gathered on it over the last hundred plus years will sprout.”

“So, it will no longer be the Desolation?” Kili asked.

“Eventually, it will grow over, and no, it will not be the Desolation. I don’t know if it will ever return to what your uncle remembers or even be close to it, but it will recover,” Bilbo promised.

“That’s excellent news, Master Baggins,” Balin said, voice rough. The rest of the Company murmured their agreement, and Bilbo smiled before turning his attention back to Thorin.

“Thorin?”

Thorin smiled and spread his hands. “I should be glad that the Desolation can be recovered, but I worry. My people are few, and we will be hard-pressed to bring Erebor back to her former glory in the next ten years, let alone the land around it. Being able to do more will be beyond us.”

“Thorin, there are Longbeards throughout all the kingdoms that will come when you call. While we may be few in the Blue Mountains, there are many who want to come home,” Balin reassured.

“He’s right, Thorin. While I joked that we came for the beer, it wasn’t that. We came for loyalty, and because our family needs a better home than we have in the Blue Mountains. Erebor can be that. Don’t give up,” Bofur said shortly.

Bilbo slanted a glance at Glóin and Oin and saw them nodding along with Bofur’s points. Dwalin was also nodding, so he seemed to agree with him. That left the brothers Ri. “Do you agree, Dori?”

“I do,” Dori confirmed. “The only person in the Company who doesn’t know our family history is Bilbo, but we came along for the same reasons Bofur and his kin did. Also, frankly, for the social boost that comes from being part of the group that successfully retook Erebor from Smaug.”

“I will ask you about that later,” Bilbo said after a moment of silence.

“I expected,” Dori said with a small smile.

“Let’s get back on topic,” Thorin said with a wave of his hands. “Master Baggins’ good news is wonderful, but we have other things that need to be taken care of before the Desolation being healed is relevant.”

“Truth,” Dwalin confirmed. “The wall is done. So that’s off the list. But that column of black smoke is going to get attention like no one’s business. We can expect every vulture out there will head our way in an effort to attack us.”

“Azog was alive when we escaped them in the Misty Mountains,” Balin murmured. “He’s been hunting us the entire time we’ve been traveling. I expect he will show up here with an army and try to kill every Durin left alive sooner or later.”

“I expect the same,” Thorin agreed. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I can feel the gold sickness pressing at me, still. It’s been fading since we killed Smaug and started burning him. I expect it will fade even further as we melt the gold he was nesting down.”

“That’s good news, Uncle,” Fili said. From what Bilbo could see, Fili and Kili were relieved at Thorin’s confession. “That is very good news.”

“It is. The reason I bring it up is that my mental state helped to contribute to the situation we’re in. We are short on supplies, with only 14 of us here; we can’t defend the mountain, and it’s almost certain that there will be attempts to take it away from us. One of the things that I did after we started cutting up Smaug was send out a raven to Dáin. I got a reply today. He’s coming here with his own army.”

“Will he be bringing supplies?” Bombur asked. From the nods the other dwarrow were giving, the question was appreciated. “We’ve got enough cram for at least another few weeks. But it won’t last the winter. And we’re going to need a more varied diet to make it to spring without getting ill.”

“We still have tons of the coal. So, we should be able to stay warm as long as we can keep the forges lit,” Glóin reported. “If we can repair the pipes, that will allow us to have water, both hot and cold, and would also allow us to flush out some of the shite out of the mountain.”

“How far and fast can a raven travel? And can they carry anything?” Bilbo asked. He had an idea, and if he could beg for the use of a raven, the bird might make all the difference.

Thorin looked between the three of them and smiled ruefully. “Bombur, as far as I know, Dáin is bringing enough supplies for his people and us as well. I don’t know exactly what, but I think he will be willing to share. It’s not like we don’t have enough gold to pay for it if he insists. Though we might want to wash some of it first.”

“Then he had better bring soap,” Oin muttered.

“Agreed. Oin,” Thorin said. “Regarding the pipes…I think we can get that done over the winter. Because you’re right, we’re going to need hot water.” When Glóin sat back in satisfaction, Thorin turned to look at Bilbo. “Ravens can travel very quickly. If they know where they are going, they can fly directly. As for carrying something? Occasionally, we sent them out with a message tube strapped to their backs. Why?”

“If we can send a raven back to the Shire, we can request they send back some supplies,” Bilbo explained. When the dwarrow started to protest, he held up a hand to stop them. “I know that dwarrow have magic that allows you to craft the way you do. I’m not asking for any information on how that works. Hobbits also have magic. Most of our magic is related to growing things. We’ve also bent our magic to allow us to store the products of our labors. I will be asking my grandfather for a set of Hobbit pouches that contain enough food for the next year, and enough seeds that I can sow a garden that will feed us as soon as spring arrives.”

Kili twisted to look at him. “How? How can a raven carry all of that? They aren’t an eagle!”

“Hobbits have different magic than dwarrow, Kili. We long ago figured out how to store food for long periods of time and how to transport it. I was an idiot to run out of my smial without taking the time to stock up for this trip,” Bilbo said ruefully. “In my defense, Gandalf showed up to talk to me four hours before Dwalin arrived on my doorstep and never directly mentioned you were coming. I had no idea about this, so I didn’t have any time to plan.”

“You didn’t know we were coming?” Dwalin asked. He stared at Bilbo for several seconds before exchanging a look with Thorin. “Didn’t Mithrandir tell you that the Hobbit we were getting as part of our Company knew and had agreed to the journey?”

Thorin nodded. “He did.”

“That lying bastard,” Bilbo breathed. He took several deep breaths as he tried to push his temper away so he could keep answering Kili’s question. “I’ll get him later. Anyway. Hobbits have figured out how to use special pouches to store massive amounts of goods. With three or four of the right pouches, a Hobbit can store enough food for a year for a normal family. My grandfather can pack everything up for me into the pouches and send them on. When you pick one up, they don’t weigh much more than the material they are made of. It’s only when you draw an item out of them that the item has a weight.”

“How?” Ori asked. His fingers were twitching like he wanted to write the whole conversation down. “How can you do that?”

“I can’t tell you, Ori. It’s magic specific to Hobbits, and we don’t share it,” Bilbo said with a shrug.

“Damn it,” Ori cursed. “If the royal library survived Smaug, I’m going to research to see if dwarrow can do something similar.”

“I’ll be right there beside you, lad,” Balin muttered. “I do know we can charge crystals with sunlight and bring them in to light our inner spaces. They don’t provide heat, but the light is very useful.”

“You can?” Bilbo asked, interest caught. “Can you make glass?”

“Not personally,” Thorin said. “None of us are glassblowers, but I know that Erebor had many among her craftsmen. Why?”

“If I have a glasshouse, with light, and it’s somewhere warm, I can grow food,” Bilbo said. “If we can’t do it in here, I can do it on a terrace for the light, and a fire in it for warmth.”

“That’s very interesting,” Thorin said slowly. He glanced at Bofur and Bifur and raised an eyebrow at the two men. “You’ve been very quiet.”

“I’m a miner,” Bofur reminded him. “I can help with the building of any mechanisms or even the glasshouse. But the glass itself is beyond me.”

Bifur snapped his fingers and quickly signed something. Bilbo turned to Bofur for a translation. “Bifur agrees. He’s a toymaker, and while he’s worked with glass accents, he’s never made it.”

“Right. Well, something for the future then,” Balin said with a sigh

“Indeed,” Thorin agreed. “I will see if I can get a raven or two to come down so you can write your message to your grandfather. If they can make it to the Shire and back with those pouches, that will make an immeasurable difference.”

“Thank you,” Bilbo said

“You’re welcome. Now. We need to set a watch on the wall so we can make sure that anyone who’s curious about our fire is monitored. We don’t want any enemies arriving unexpectedly,” Thorin said. He glanced at Dwalin and raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a suggestion on that, oh Captain of the Guard?”

“You’re not as funny as you think, Thorin,” Dwalin muttered. He glanced over the Company and nodded. “Kili, first watch, then Fili, then Glóin. We’ll rotate through all of us going forward. Use your stone sense to monitor the mountain to see if anything unusual happens.”

“Will do,” Kili said. He quickly stood up and grabbed his sword and a set of throwing axes. “I’ll head out now.”

“And I’m for bed,” Fili said around a yawn. He headed for their bedrolls and quickly settled down to sleep.

“I think I saw some parchment in one of the rubble piles,” Thorin said slowly. “I’ll go check.”

“If you’re able to find some, I’ll work out an ink in the morning,” Bilbo said. He took a deep breath and tried to let his anxiety go. Thorin was so much better than he had been even four days before, to say nothing of what he’d been like right after Smaug had died. The more of the dragon that was destroyed by the fire, the better.

Thorin looked around the fire at everyone. “Alright then. Get some sleep, everyone. We’re going to need it to get the wall finished and the place cleaned up.”

Bilbo smiled as he saw that no one argued as they settled in.

 

“Now that the wall is up and the rubble is cleared from either side of it, we need to check to see what’s usable,” Thorin announced at their mid-meal two days later.

“That’s going to be a mess,” Dori muttered as he poured water for everyone.

“First thing we need to find is an armory that’s stocked and wasn’t destroyed,” Dwalin suggested. When the Company turned to look at him, he shrugged. “We lost our weapons due to Thranduil, and we need to figure out what’s usable. We were lucky that the axes we used to take Smaug apart lasted as long as they did. Because you know shites’ coming.”

“Dáin is on his way, so that’s helpful, but you’re right,” Thorin said slowly. “We need armor as well. Because I feel naked without it.”

“Same,” Dwalin agreed. He took a deep breath and waved his hand at the area they were camping in. “We also need to fortify this area if we’re going to live in it long term. And find beds.”

“I asked my grandfather for enough supplies to furnish a Great Smial, so we can be comfortable. With the food supplies I asked for, we should be able to make it through to spring without much issue,” Bilbo said. Thorin had come through with a raven that morning, and he’d sent his letter off with fingers mentally crossed.

He got up and started inspecting the room they were in. “This room is serviceable, but we’re going to want something better for long-term living. That means we need to do some exploring to see what’s habitable.”

“The Royal Family had suites deeper and further up in the mountain, and a number of them had access to the outside in the form of protected terraces,” Balin suggested. He glanced at Thorin and raised an eyebrow at him. “They also had kitchens, fireplaces, and a separate water system that might still be usable.”

“I didn’t even think about them,” Thorin said softly. “But you’re right. They are the perfect place for us to live while we work to get Erebor back into shape. We can also use the apartments of the other nobles that are in the area to house anyone who stays to help.”

“Father said that there was a set of barracks for the Guard up there, too,” Dwalin said. “So, we can feed them using the kitchens in there.”

“So, that’s a plan. But first, I need a sword. And armor,” Thorin said with a clap of his hands. “Let’s go do that first.”

“Right. Where was the main armory?” Glóin asked.

“Down here. It was crushed when Smaug came through, and we were lucky to find the axes. I think as we head up towards the Royal Apartments, we’ll hit the family armory, and that was normally sealed. If I’m right and it is sealed, nothing in it should have had a chance to rot. It would do no one any good if the weapons look good, but fall to pieces when they are used,” Thorin said. He stared up at the ceiling, and Bilbo watched as he went utterly still. From the way that the Company turned to look at him, Thorin was doing something. He held his peace as his dwarrow joined Thorin in his stillness.

“The Royal levels haven’t been touched from what I can tell. The next three or four levels down are also in good shape,” Thorin said. He sounded distracted, like he was watching something that had all of his attention.

“There’s a great deal of damage on the lower levels,” Bofur announced. “I can feel that the mines are intact, but Erebor isn’t happy with how they’ve been polluted. It feels like we can clean them up, and there’s plenty of ore and gems left in them.” The dwarrow fell silent again before they shook themselves out of whatever trance they had been in. “Erebor feels better, but Bilbo is right. We need to be very careful when we dispose of the shite from Smaug because it’s starting to foul the lower reaches of the mines,” Bofur said with a shudder. “Ick.”

“There’s nothing we can do about that now,” Thorin said with a sigh. “I’m… I don’t want gold anymore, not like I did. But I think I need to put some distance between it and me.”

“You did okay when we were dismembering the wyrm,” Oin said. He was studying Thorin closely before he reached out to poke him in the chest. “Any urge to nest down in the gold and hiss like a dragon?”

“No,” Thorin said. He sent a side-eye towards Nori. “Not even when I see someone picking up coins and gems and sliding them into bags.”

“Good thing that,” Nori said peaceably. He nodded towards the mess outside the door of their room. “We’re going to need shovels to move that mess back where it belongs.”

“Truth,” Glóin said. “Gold is heavy.”

“Enough gossiping. I want weapons. Let’s get some,” Dwalin called as he walked towards the door.

Thorin rolled his eyes at Bilbo before moving ahead of his friend to lead the way. “You don’t know where the armory is.”

“Got you to move now, didn’t it?”

“Arsehole.”

“Brat.”

“Are they arguing like we do?” Fili asked Kili.

“They’ve been friends since Dwalin was born,” Balin said before turning to head after them.

“Wow.”

 

Part III

 

“Please tell me that there was another way up to this level?” Bilbo panted. They were on the seventh set of stairs on their way up to the Royal Apartments, and his legs were hurting. The main armory had been a bust, and the decision had been made to check the upper levels to see what had survived up there.

“There were a series of lifts that were used by everyone in Erebor to get up and down the levels,” Thorin explained. He was breathing deeply and evenly as they climbed and barely paused when he answered Bilbo’s question. “These stairs were mostly used for going between one level and the next, not for going from the bottom of Erebor to the top.”

“No using the mechanics until we’re sure that they survived Smaug and won’t dump us down a shaft as we try to go up them,” Bofur cautioned. From the sounds of clothing being moved in a rhythmic pattern, Bifur was adding something. “Bifur says that as long as the mechanism hasn’t been sitting in water or messed with by Smaug, it should be easy to get it back in service.”

“Right. He worked on the lifts in the Blue Mountains,” Balin huffed. “We hiked across Middle Earth, and this is what’s kicking my arse?”

“Mine too,” Bilbo muttered as he forced himself up another flight of stairs. Pausing to rest at the various landings just made it hurt more when they started moving again. “This better be worth it.”

“It will be, Master Baggins,” Thorin called over his shoulder.

“Hmph,” Bilbo huffed before he saved his breath for climbing. Erebor was a bloody tall mountain, and they were climbing quite a way up into it. “You are going to have to tell me how this place is organized when we get the chance,” he said at their next stop.

“Certainly,” Thorin said. He waved a hand towards the levels that they had just climbed up. “The first three levels were designated for trade. The first one, in the hall in front of the gate, was for foreign traders and our metal workers. The second level was for our craftsmen, where they could show their wares and take commissions. The third level was for foods, drinks, and everything associated with that.”

“Well, that will be interesting to see if you can get it back,” Bilbo said. “The Shire doesn’t really have anything like that, but we do have designated areas in our markets for the trades, but rarely spaces for visitors.”

“If we survive this insanity, you can talk to your grandfather to see if he would be willing to open the markets to dwarrow,” Balin suggested.

“I’ll suggest it to him,” Bilbo said. He took a drink from the waterskin that Nori passed him before passing it on to Ori. “He might be interested. But will there be any dwarrow left in the Blue Mountain after your people come here?”

“There are several mountain kingdoms that are close enough to send out traders,” Thorin said as he accepted the skin from Ori. He took a drink of water and passed it on. “And we’ll make sure that they don’t offend anyone’s sensibilities.”

“Good luck with that,” Dori said wryly. “You know that’s not going to happen.”

“If whatever dwarrow gets the job to offend a hobbit could make some of my cousins clutch their pearls, I would be obliged,” Bilbo said. His breathing had evened out, and he was staring up at the stairs ahead of them. “How much further?”

“From what I remember? Another flight,” Thorin said. He was wandering around the landing, inspecting the signs written in what Bilbo was sure was Khuzdûl. “Yes, per this, the Royal Apartments are at the top of the next flight.”

“Sounds good,” Dwalin said with a slap of his hands on his thighs. He cocked his head to the side as he read the signs as well. “That does say that the barracks for the guard are on this level, right?”

“Yes. Shall we split up?” Nori asked. He slanted a glance at Dwalin and nodded towards the hallway with the sign in question. “It looks like there are sun crystals here. We can check to see if they’ve got any charge left.”

“They may not,” Thorin cautioned. “From what I remember, the ones out here and on all the landings, and in the hallways, were always shining, so they may have faded out.”

“But they can be recharged, right?” Ori asked, addressing the question to the rest of the Company.

“I’m a blacksmith; I never learned the process to charge them,” Thorin admitted. “Balin?”

“I know how,” Balin confirmed as he looked at Ori. “As part of your apprenticeship, it’s on the list of things I will be teaching you.”

“Oh, good,” Ori breathed out. “Does anyone else know how?”

Nori raised his hand and nodded. “I do. I learned it from some associates, so I’m not sure if it’s the same way Balin does. We can compare methods.”

Bifur waved his hand and signed quickly. “Bifur confirms that he knows how as well,” Bofur translated. “And he’s willing to teach.”

“Good. We have three sources, and three people who can charge them as needed,” Dori said. “Shall we keep moving?”

“Yes. Dwalin, Glóin, Oin, Bofur, Bifur, and Nori, look along this level for anything useful and make sure that the barracks are useful,” Thorin directed. “The rest of us will head up to the Royal Apartments to check them out.”

Bilbo nodded and shared a look with Balin. They were going to have to keep an eye on Thorin. This trip would bring him back to the home he’d had to abandon without ever getting a chance to say goodbye, and Bilbo expected that he was going to be confronting a lot of ghosts.

“Right,” Thorin muttered before turning back to the stairs and starting up them.

Bilbo followed behind his friend and wished desperately he could get away with putting a hand on Thorin’s back, so he knew he wasn’t alone in this. It had been over 170 years since Thorin had walked up the stairs they were currently climbing, and the memories had to be coming thick and fast.

Unlike the levels below, the area they were climbing towards had wide halls with only a few doorways breaking the expanses of decorated stone. Each of the doors was open as if their inhabitants had left them in a hurry, and Bilbo knew why. Hopefully, the apartments were in good condition, but there were no guarantees.

When Thorin’s footsteps slowed down, Bilbo moved up and placed a hand on his arm as he walked through the doors at the head of the stairs. “Thorin?”

“The last time I was here was the morning Smaug arrived,” Thorin said softly. He looked around at the antechamber they had entered. “Father was muttering about court; Grandfather had gone down to the Treasury at dawn, and Dis and Ferrin were whining about their tutors to Mother.”

“That sounds like it would have been a good day,” Bilbo said. “I’m sorry that was changed.”

“Me too,” Thorin said. He walked over to a door with a seal carved into the stone.

Bilbo followed behind Thorin and took in the room. Large and airy, the space was well proportioned and filled with sturdy furniture; it didn’t look like what people with more money than sense had set up. Thorin didn’t bother to look around the room, and Bilbo didn’t follow him.

While Thorin was exploring his past, Bilbo took the time to check out all the public facing rooms of Thorin’s family. Most of the soft furnishings hadn’t held up to decades of neglect, but the bones of the furnishings had survived the passage of time, and with the right supplies, could be brought back. When he found the kitchen, Bilbo started opening everything.

The place had obviously held food at the time Smaug had invaded, but it had all rotted away to dust. Many of the pots and pans in the place were ruined, but Bilbo expected Thorin could replace them, given the time and space to do so. But it was well laid out, and there was plenty of room for two or three cooks to work, without getting in each other’s way.

There was even a room full of carefully stored wood. Bilbo extended his senses over it, and the oak was still well seasoned. He would need to test it, but from his initial check, he thought it was still sound enough to be used for fuel cooking. If not, he hoped, the kitchen had one or two of the ovens that Balin had described because he wasn’t sure that there was any other wood in the whole mountain that was suitable for use in a cooking fire.

 

“We finished exploring the area,” Balin murmured.

Bilbo looked up from the closet he was inspecting. “How is it?”

“Almost everything is intact,” Balin reported. He leaned over and glanced at the space that had held Bilbo’s attention. “We’re going to need a lot of cloth, aren’t we?”

“We are. It doesn’t look like there was any vermin, but it’s been a long time, and everything rotted,” Bilbo said. He firmly closed the door and pulled his shirt up to sneeze into it. “It’s going to take a few days to clean this out.”

“We can do it,” Fili said. He had dirt streaked all over his clothes, and Bilbo cocked his head as he tried to remember where he’d gone. “We checked out the doors to the terraces,” Fili reported after intercepting his look. “They’re in decent shape, with the glass still in place, but they’ll need greasing. And the terraces have enough room for a few glasshouses in between the raised beds.”

“Excellent,” Bilbo said. He nodded his head towards the inner portion of the rooms they were in when Fili raised an eyebrow at him after glancing around. “He’s been in there the whole time.”

Fili nodded once. “Right. I’ll head on over.”

“I found a sealed armory on this level,” Kili said as he stepped into the room. “It looks like everything is in good shape, and while some of the weapons seem to be decorative, most of them seem useful. There’s even armor.”

“You’re going to wear at least chainmail, right?” Bilbo asked abruptly. His understanding of weapons and armor had grown by leaps and bounds on the quest, and it bothered him that his dwarrow didn’t wear any armor. Then again, if they had, the shit with the river would have gone very differently. Tradeoffs.

Still. They had access to it now, and if it was in good shape, then they should wear it because Azog was still out there. And more protection was better than nothing.

“There are a few mail shirts that look like they will fit,” Kili confirmed. “Most of what’s in there looks like it was for decoration, not actual use.”

“That’s because it was,” Thorin said quietly, voice hoarse. He cleared his throat and ran his hands over his face. “But from what I remember, there was some useful armor in there, along with some good weapons.”

“They looked good to me when I checked them out. None of the bows, though,” Kili said with a frown. “All of them snapped due to tension.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate, but we’ll see about acquiring one for you when it’s feasible,” Balin said. He quickly laid out everything he had seen in his explorations for Thorin.

Bilbo added his information quickly and stepped back as Fili and Kili added their parts. Dori and Ori were quick to chime in, and Bilbo tried to figure out where they had been. Bombur was holding the fort down at their original campsite, so he hadn’t expected anyone else to investigate the kitchens of the various apartments. Dori and Ori had done so.

“So, the area is clear?” Thorin asked.

“It looks like it. We’ll need to do a lot of cleaning, and I’m sure that we’re going to have to clear the chimneys before they are safe to use,” Dori said. He waved a hand around the apartment they were in. “Each of the apartments looks like this, so…”

“So, we’re going with the plan to move up here?” Bilbo asked.

“I think so, yes,” Thorin said. “Unless the rest of the Company comes back with a massive issue, we’ll spend the winter up here.”

“Sounds like a plan then. I’ll be able to do a lot with the terraces and the kitchen,” Bilbo said. He turned around and started to look at the area with an eye towards making it habitable again. If his grandfather was able to get him the furnishings he’d requested, they’d be comfortable until new items could be traded for or built.

“Let’s go check out the armory.”

 

Bilbo stared at the armory and turned to look at Kili. “That’s a lot of metal.”

“That it is,” Kili said with a smile.

Thorin walked into the armory with the second search group and stopped. “Wow.”

“Why did you do that?” Dwalin complained as he shoved Thorin forward so he could see. “Wow is right.”

“Right. Everyone, pick out your armor and weapons. But Master Baggins is right, we need to be able to move. So, don’t pick the pretty armor, pick the stuff you can fight in,” Thorin directed. He glanced over at Bofur and Bifur. “You two know Bombur’s sizes. Make sure that he’s got armor and weapons.”

“We can do that,” Bofur agreed. “You sure you want us taking armor from here?”

“Yes,” Thorin confirmed. Bilbo eyed him carefully as he walked around the chamber, but Thorin didn’t seem like the gold madness was coming back, and he didn’t seem upset, just tired. “You’re no longer a simple miner from the Blue Mountains, Bofur. You’re one of the King’s Company, and with that comes expectations.”

“We’re going to regret this, aren’t we?” Bofur said before slanting a glance at Bifur. When his cousin shrugged, Bofur grinned wryly. “Okay then, your majesty. We’ll dress up and stand by you.”

“Good, because I’m going to need you even when we get Erebor back up and running,” Thorin said simply. He started moving through the various armor stands and paused before resting his hands on one. “Master Baggins. Come here.”

“I saw that one earlier,” Bilbo said as he weaved his way through the stands to stop by Thorin. “Who makes chain mail from silver?”

“If it was silver, it’d be tarnished and filthy,” Thorin murmured. “This is mithril, and it was made by Durin III for his heir while he was a child. I want you to wear it.”

“Uhm. Thorin… Why?” Bilbo asked as he accepted the chainmail shirt. It was far lighter than anything he’d expected it to be. “It’s light.”

“It is. But it’s also stronger than everything in here,” Thorin explained. “If you get hit with it on, you’ll get a bruise at the worst. It’s the most protective thing I can put you in.”

“That’s great, but still. Why?”

“Because there’s nothing else in here that will fit you,” Thorin said. He shrugged when Bilbo looked at him in askance. “I expect that you’re going to go where you want, no matter what I say. So, given that, I want to make sure that you’re as protected as I can.”

Bilbo huffed at Thorin’s words, but he couldn’t argue against them. He had learned that he was the kind of person who would charge in, come hell or high water. Damn the man for recognizing that about him. And damn his Took blood for his willingness to jump into danger. “I’m not that bad.”

“Bilbo,” Thorin chided with a raised eyebrow.

Bilbo huffed again before he handed the shirt back and started to shrug out of the outer robe he’d picked up in Laketown. “Hold this,” he said before taking the mithril shirt and pulling it on. He bounded on his toes for several seconds to settle everything out. “It’s very light.”

“Good,” Thorin said before he handed the robe back. “You’ve still got your little dagger?”

“Yes.” Bilbo said as he touched the hilt of Sting, “I’ll use it if I have to.”

“Good,” Thorin said. He waved his hands at the room before moving towards one of the armor stands. “’Now, I’m going to find some armor that fits me. And a sword.”

“Sounds like a plan, Bilbo allowed. He headed for the door to make more room in the armory. When Balin slipped into place beside him, Bilbo slanted a quick glance at him. “Balin.”’

“Bilbo. He looks good,” Balin said. He was staring at Thorin as he was inspecting a rack of swords for one that would fit him. “Calm, not manic, and intent on being around the gold. I think you were right, burning Smaug was the right thing to do.”

“I’m glad that worked out because I was worried about it,” Bilbo said and made sure his voice was just as quiet. He tugged gently on the mail shirt Thorin had given him. “I hope that I don’t need this, but if it reassures him, I’ll wear it.”

“That’s one of the most valuable treasures of Erebor,” Balin said. He glanced at the shirt before turning back to look at the room. “My father mentioned that it had been left behind when we were discussing ways for us to fund our settlement in the Blue Mountains.”

“Right,” Bilbo said. He suppressed a grimace at the thought of what the shirt had to be worth. If Thorin was willing to let him wear it, he wasn’t going to raise a fuss. Even if the thought of it made him twitch. From the low laugh Balin gave, his distaste was obvious. “Where’s the Arkenstone?” Bilbo asked, voice back at a normal volume.

“With Bombur, down at our camp,” Balin reported. “Since that’s a wretched climb away, I’m hoping we can clear the lifts today after everyone arms up, so we can move between the front gallery and here, without needing to climb quite so much.”

“The climb is good for you,” Thorin called as he flipped a sword in his hand to test the balance.

“No. Absolutely not, Thorin Oakenshield! I am not climbing up and down those stairs every day. You are going to fix the lifts, or I’m staying up here!” Bilbo sniped. He scowled as Thorin glanced over at him with a small smile on his face. “What?”

“It’s been a while since you’ve gotten snippy with me,” Thorin said. “I find that I missed it.”

“You missed me being snippy? What in the world?” Bilbo asked the room at large as he stared at Thorin. “Did you hit your head while taunting the dragon?”

“No. I didn’t hit my head,” Thorin said patiently. He set the sword he was inspecting back on the rack and picked up another before shaking his head and setting it back. “Very few people treat me like someone who is normal, Master Baggins. My position among dwarrow tends to make informality an issue.”

“I don’t actually care if you’re a king or not,” Bilbo said after several seconds of thought. “Hobbits don’t have kings.”

“I’m aware of that,” Thorin confirmed. “Still. It’s nice to be treated as if my title doesn’t matter.”

“Bah,” Bilbo muttered. “Why did you stop calling me by my name?”

“Several reasons,” Thorin admitted as he finally picked a sword to keep.

Bilbo watched as he went to where the chain mail was stored and started sorting through the shirts. When Thorin didn’t continue to detail what his reasons were, Bilbo huffed. “And?”

“Patience is a virtue. Master Baggins.” Thorin called as he held a mail shirt before setting it aside. “Too small.”

“Thorin,” Bilbo demanded.

From the low laugh Thorin let out, he was enjoying Bilbo’s irritation. “As much as I got my head screwed on straighter after the Carrock, I still had issues. Then my weakness got us captured by Thranduil, and you had to get us out of his palace because I was dumb. Laketown wasn’t great either, but it wasn’t all that bad since we did get help from Bard. However, when we got here to Erebor… It’s good that you convinced me that we needed to burn Smaug’s body. As soon as it started burning, I could feel the hold the gold had on me snap. And that’s why I’ve been calling you Master Baggins. Respect, even if it’s late.”

“Please call me Bilbo,” Bilbo said. He took a deep breath as he processed what Thorin was saying. “You knew?”

“That I was gold mad? Oh, yes,” Thorin said as he looked up from the shirt he was inspecting. “It felt like I was drunk with very little control of my actions. That’s the other reason the Arkenstone is down there. I don’t want to deal with the temptation it might spark. So, thank you for saving me from myself.”

“You’re welcome. Thorin,” Bilbo said quietly.

“Has everyone got their armor and weapons?” Thorin asked as he pulled his hair back to braid it quickly before tying it off. As everyone gave their assent, he drew the mail shirt over his head before pulling the braid out of the back. “Okay, then, we’re going to go downstairs again, pack up, and head back up here. Bifur, if you and Bofur could check the lift and make sure it’s safe to use, that’d be appreciated.”

“We can do that, if you all will take our choices down to Bombur,” Bifur agreed

“We can do that,” Thorin agreed. He turned to look at everyone and nodded. “Okay. Let’s get going then.”

 

 

Part IV

 

“I was not expecting that,” Bofur said as he stared over the battlements they had spent so long building.

“None of us were,” Balin agreed. He was leaning against one of the crenelations and peering at the plaza below.

“Dáin Ironfoot certainly knows how to make an entrance,” Thorin said. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he also stared down at what was happening in front of them.

Bilbo stared at the three of them before glancing over the wall to see what had grabbed their attention. There was an army of dwarrow marching down the left side of the valley towards them. Row upon row of dwarrow marching in time with each other. And standing in their way was an army of elves, with Thranduil at its head, and Gandalf at his side on a horse. “Is he riding an elk?”

“Thranduil?” Thorin asked absently.

“Yes! Why an elk?” Bilbo asked. He was just baffled by the choices that the elf king had made and the obvious acceptance that Gandalf was showing.

“Because he’s an over-dramatic ponce,” Dwalin said with a huff. “This is going to be a mess.”

“It will,” Thorin agreed. “We can’t let them fight.”

“Thranduil was due the necklace made from the White Gems of Lasgalen not long before Smaug came and Thrór refused him,” Balin said slowly.

Thorin frowned and then nodded. “I did see them when we were exploring the workshops by the treasury.”

“I saw them too. Shall I get them?” Fili asked.

“Yes,” Thorin confirmed. He glanced at his heir once before turning his attention back over the walls. “Quickly.”

“Yes, Uncle,” Fili said before he ran off towards the wrecked treasury.

“Do you think that will work?” Bilbo asked.

“Can’t hurt to try,” Thorin said. He glared down at Thranduil as the elf paced forward on his elk with Gandalf at his side. He leaned forward on the embrasure and waited for Thranduil to come to a halt. “Why are you here?” Thorin called down after several minutes contemplating the view.

To Bilbo’s ear, he didn’t sound angry; he sounded tired, wary, and just utterly done. From the flat look Thranduil had on his face, he wasn’t enjoying himself. “You know why we’re here.”

“I know you held us captive, saying that you could keep us because you didn’t want to antagonize a dragon. Well, Smaug is dead, burned, and you’re standing in his ashes. Erebor is officially a dwarf kingdom again, so conquering it is off the board,” Thorin said bluntly. His voice was raised enough that Thranduil could hear him without screaming. Fili slid into place behind him and handed Thorin a roll of leather. He held up the roll and waggled it at Thranduil. “I have your necklace. We are not interested in fighting you. But be aware, there is an orc who has been following us, and I know of no orc who won’t kill everything it can if given a chance. And that does mean you.”

“We know of the orc and his army marching this way,” Gandalf said.

“You know you have no way to survive them,” Thranduil sneered. “Even with the wall you’ve rebuilt.”

Bilbo leaned against the battlement and shared a glance with Thorin. “Hasn’t he noticed your cousin’s army coming behind him?”

“I’m sure he has,” Thorin said with a huff. “But I don’t think he cares.”

“Dwarrow have kicked elves’ arses before,” Glóin muttered. He was glaring at the elven army on the plaza. “We can do it again.”

“Let’s not,” Bilbo said. “If Gandalf is right that there’s another army heading this way, losing any of your troops fighting the elves is dumb.”

Thranduil stared up at them from the back of his elk. Bilbo glanced at the edge of Thranduil’s small army and noticed that the ranks were rippling. “Am I seeing that right? The elves are moving back away from your cousin’s force?”

“They are,” Thorin agreed. His attention was still on Thranduil, and he tossed the leather roll from hand to hand.

“You will not be able to survive the orc army,” Thranduil warned.

To Bilbo’s ear, he sounded satisfied at the thought of Erebor being destroyed for a second time. “What is his problem?”

“Several things,” Thorin said with a shrug and didn’t bother to lower his voice. “He’s not a young elf, and he fought dragons and orcs before. He’s also fought dwarrow in the past. He’s bitter about all of it. Despite his bitterness, he contracted artisans here in Erebor to take some of the Gems of Lasgalen and turn them into a necklace for his wife. It took several years before the necklace was complete, and when he came to pick it up, my grandfather refused him.

“Not long after that mess, his wife was captured by orcs and held for almost two years before she escaped and then went to the Undying Lands because she was grievously wounded by her time in the hands of the orcs. And he’s been pissy ever since,” Thorin said with a smirk. “And he’s also got Gandalf beside him, wearing a Ring of Power, that he’s never even been allowed to try on. Another thing that galls him.”

From the look of rage Thranduil gave them, he didn’t appreciate the way Thorin was characterizing the past. Bilbo sympathized slightly, but the man was a king, and he needed to elf up. “Now what?”

“Now, I give him the necklace he contracted for, the extra gems, and I don’t try to take a potshot at his arrogant arse for imprisoning us,” Thorin said evenly. He made sure that the leather roll was tied tight before throwing it at Thranduil. When the elf caught it, Thorin stared down at him without expression. “You’ve got what you wanted most from us, and you can leave. But remember, if that army you mentioned does kill us, you’re next. And you live in a tinderbox.”

“Big words from someone living in a ruined and befouled home. There is nothing in there to keep you alive over the winter, nothing to eat, and nothing to stay warm with. But then, maybe the gold will keep you warm,” Thranduil said with a smirk as he tucked the roll away in his robes.

“Only if we burn it to get the shit off of it,” Bofur mustered from his place on the wall. The laughter that went down the line of the Company was strained, but real.

Thorin stared over the wall and smirked. “Nice to see you, cousin.”

Bilbo peered over the edge of the wall and saw the leader of the dwarrow army stop next to Thranduil’s elk. He was riding a pig, had flaming red hair, and enough weapons that Bilbo wondered if he could walk.

“What in the hell, Thorin?” Dáin called. “When I said I’ll see you at Erebor, there weren’t supposed to be elves. Or wizards.”

“They brought themselves out,” Thorin called. He smirked when Dáin frowned up at him. “At least the dragon is dead?”

Bilbo could faintly hear a growl as Dáin stared up at them. “Fine. Will you let us in?”

“You really don’t want to come in here, cousin,” Thorin said. “Smaug was a wretched bastard and destroyed everything he touched. We’ll be cleaning up after him for the next decade.”

From the grimace Thranduil gave, he was as disgusted as they were. Bilbo stared down at them and tried to figure out what was bothering him. Something was tickling his magic, and it didn’t seem to be coming from the armies below them. Pushing his magic out, he could feel the sleeping land shuddering away from something. “Bofur,” he called softly as Thorin, Thranduil, and Dáin sniped at each other.

“What can I do for you, Bilbo?” Bofur asked quietly.

“Something is going on with the ground outside of Erebor. I can feel that something’s happening, but I can’t pin it down,” Bilbo said. He tried to scan the area around them, but the brown wastes of the Desolation looked like they were no different than they had been when they’d killed Smaug. “I know you’ve got some way to tell what’s going on with the stone of Erebor. Can you spread that out and check the area in front of us?”

“I can try,” Bofur said. He fell silent, and the stillness he’d seen when the dwarrow had checked how stable Erebor was spread over him. He held that stillness through another round of sniping before he shook it off and frowned, glancing at the same area that had grabbed Bilbo’s attention. “There’s something happening in the hills. I can feel something moving under the ground and through the stone.”

“Thorin,” Bilbo called. When Thorin looked over at him, Bilbo waved towards the hills. “Somethings happening over there.”

“What?” Thorin asked before his head snapped in the direction of the hills across the valley. He stared at the barren slopes for several seconds before he started cursing. “Thranduil, shut up. The army you were telling us is on our doorstep. Step up or run away.”

“What are you talking about?” Thranduil asked. He turned his mount around to check if he could see what had gotten Thorin’s attention. “There’s no one there. Gandalf?”

Gandalf looked up at them before turning his horse in the same direction. “I sense nothing.”

“Dáin, ignore Thranduil and his elves. Concentrate on staying alive,” Thorin snapped. He leaned back to look at Dwalin and nodded at him. “Go arm up. And bring me anything that you can’t carry.”

“You’d better arm up, too,” Dwalin warned as he started for the stairs.

“I’m already wearing my chainmail and sword. I just want something extra,” Thorin promised. He turned to look at Bilbo and raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’ve got it on!” Bilbo promised as he pulled his shirt to the side to show the mithril shirt. It had been cold when he’d put it on after washing up, but now he could barely tell he was wearing it. But if it would make Thorin more comfortable, he’d show the damn thing off as much as needed

“Good,” Thorin said before turning back to stare at the barren hills. Cocking his head to the side, he sighed. “Here it comes.”

On the hills across from them, the ground started heaving before something burst from the depths. “What in the hell is that?” Bilbo asked.

“Wereworms!” Thranduil shouted. He started directing his army to shift around to face the new threat.

“For fuck’s sake, Thorin. What have you gotten us into?” Dáin called up before turning back to his own army to shout directions. “Behind the elves! Give the bows room!”

“We’re not staying up here, right?” Fili asked.

“No. We’re not. Just as soon as Dwalin comes back, we’re going to head out,” Thorin said. “Kili, I know that they are likely to be too big, but if you can grab a bow and arrows from the elves, take them. Having a ranged weapon would be useful.”

“Yes, Uncle,” Kili said. He glanced at him before turning to look back over the armies below.

“Bilbo, will you stay here?” Thorin asked as Dwalin pounded up the stairs, laden with weapons.

“You wish,” Bilbo huffed. He looked at the mass of orcs pouring out of the three tunnels the wereworms had slithered out of. “Do you really think I will be safe in here?”

“If you get trampled, I will never forgive you,” Thorin said as he started arming up. Dwalin quickly handed him several daggers and a small throwing axe. He already had his sword strapped on. “Alright, everyone. Head out. Don’t die.”

“Thorin! Get your majestic arse down here!” Dáin screamed from the plaza in front of the gates.

“Over dramatic arsehole,” Thorin bitched. He leaned over the crenelation, “We’re on our way! Unknot your knickers!”

“I’m not wearing any knickers, Thorin!”

“I did not want to know that,” Thorin groaned. He headed for the stairs and started down towards the gates. “Let’s go.”

Bilbo followed behind his dwarrow and accepted the extra dagger Dwalin slipped him. He tucked it into his belt and took a deep breath as he tried to get ready for a battle that he was voluntarily walking towards. Yavanna, bless. He was mad.

 

“For fucks sake,” Bilbo muttered as he climbed up Raven Hill after Thorin, Dwalin, and the boys. “If those arseholes die, I will kill them.”’

“You know that makes no damn sense,” Nori huffed as he followed behind him. “When we get to the top of this thing, I’ll go after the boys. You see if you can help Dwalin keep his majestic grumpiness alive.”

“Right,” Bilbo said. He kept pushing himself to move faster and catch up with his target.

The sound of battle broke out ahead of him, and Bilbo shared a glance with Nori as they ran around a boulder to reach the top of Raven Hill. It was almost second nature for Bilbo to swing his sword to kneecap the orc in front of him.

When Nori killed the orc, he didn’t blink as he kept moving past the new corpse. Nori and Dwalin started moving together to kill the few orcs that had survived the climb. Bilbo kept moving and reached out with all his senses to see if he could figure out what was going on. He could feel life burning bright in the fortress to his right, followed by something sickly and wrong. “Nori, if you and Dwalin are finished, the boys are in the tower thing!” Bilbo called as he headed for Thorin.

“Got it,” Nori agreed.

Bilbo paused as he watched Thorin balance on ice as he fought Azog. There was nothing he could do to assist, so he moved around to keep an eye on the location they were in. There were no other orcs out in the open, and he couldn’t hear any of them moving around.

If he knew the technical aspects of what he was watching, Bilbo was sure he would be impressed. As it was, he was just horrified at the chances Thorin was taking as he battled it out with Azog on a frozen river that was breaking into icebergs. When he managed to get Azog to catch his own oversized stone mace, Bilbo’s breath caught. That didn’t seem smart.

But Thorin just stepped off the iceberg he’d been battling Azog on, and the whole thing had flipped, taking the orc under the ice. When he didn’t start towards the shore, Bilbo felt his heart clench. “Thorin!”

“I can’t tell if he’s dead, Bilbo,” Thorin called. He had started walking along the ice, looking down as if he were following something.

“If you’re following that bloody orc, stop it. Let the river take him,” Bilbo yelled.

Thorin stopped walking and glanced over at Bilbo before turning back to the ice. “I need to make sure he’s dead.”

“Thorin, please,” Bilbo begged. He didn’t trust that Azog was dead, but he also didn’t think Thorin should be anywhere near where the orc had gone down.

“I need to make sure, Bilbo,” Thorin called. He was still watching something as it moved under the ice, and Bilbo was sure that he was following Azog’s body. “I can’t leave it to chance.”

Bilbo huffed before he walked along the bank to stand across from Thorin. “Give it half a glass then! I don’t think he’s going to be able to breathe underwater, and you barely came out ahead in your last fight with him!”

“Fine,” Thorin said as he sheathed his sword. He picked his way over the ice and back towards him, and Bilbo breathed out a sigh of relief as he stepped on dry land.

When Thorin reached out to him, Bilbo accepted the hug and held him tight for several seconds. “How injured are you?”

“Just some cuts, Bilbo, nothing too serious,” Thorin murmured. “Where are Fili and Kili?”

“Dwalin and Nori are collecting them,” Bilbo said. He pushed back from Thorin’s embrace and looked him over. “You look like shite.”

“You say the sweetest things,” Thorin murmured.

“Honestly, you’re a menace,” Bilbo said as he heard something thump under the water. “Thorin? What is that?”

The ice behind them was cracking, and it wasn’t due to the current. Thorin turned around and pushed Bilbo behind him as a sword was thrust through the ice. When Azog crawled out of the water, Thorin growled and took a step towards him.

Two arrows hit Azog in rapid succession, and Bilbo turned towards their source. Kili was leaning against one of the walls of the ruined tower he had been exploring, and holding him upright was the female elf who’d captured them. Both of them were holding bows, with arrows cocked, waiting to see if Azog stood back up.

Thorin walked over to where Azog was slumped on the ice and drew his sword before stabbing the orc once in the heart and twisting. “He’s dead.”

“Oh, good,” Fili muttered as he limped up next to Kili. “I want to sit down and sleep for a week.”

“Same,” Kili said. He cocked an eyebrow at Thorin before nodding towards the female elf. “This is Tauriel. She’s my One.”

“Your timing is fabulous, Kili,” Thorin said with a sigh. He looked at the elf and shrugged. “We’ll figure this out.”

“Good thing the Royal Apartments have terraces,” Bilbo said with a smirk. “Those of us who like the outside will have someplace to go to.”

“Right? Anyway, we need to see about destroying the semaphore tower,” Thorin said as he walked back to Bilbo.

“Already done,” Nori called. “Nasty thing should be burning to the ground any second now.”

“Good riddance,” Bilbo whispered. He walked over to the edge of the frozen waterfall and tried to figure out what was happening with the battle. The elves and dwarrow were still fighting together, and between them, they had almost fully routed the army Azog had brought to the Desolation.

“Are those Eagles that I see?” Thorin asked.

“It sure looks like it,” Dwalin agreed. He pointed towards a knot of action in the middle of the battle, “That looks like Beorn.”

“It looks like we have more allies than I expected,” Thorin said. He stumbled slightly as he tried to lean forward, and Bilbo slipped under his arm to prop him up. “Thank you.”

“If you think I’m letting you fall off this thing now that you’ve won, you’re even more insane than I thought you were,” Bilbo bitched.

“I’m not going to slip, Bilbo. I have too much to live for,” Thorin promised. “Kili’s not the only one with a One to woo.”

“You’re shite at it,” Bilbo said with a smile before he shifted his grip as the battle below them shifted and the orcs started to retreat. “I look forward to your future attempts.”

“Good,” Thorin said. He stared at the Desolation and the thousands of bodies littering it and sighed. “This is going to take ages to clean up.”

“It will,” Bilbo agreed. He shifted slightly to get a better grip on Thorin as the dwarrow leaned into him. “We need to get you down this thing and back into Erebor so we can start treating your wounds. Thank Yavanna that Bofur and Bifur fixed the lifts.”

Thorin grunted in agreement. “Indeed. The thought of climbing all those stairs is not a pleasant one.”

Bilbo held his peace as everyone gathered around. Dwalin walked down the riverbank to peer at Azog’s corpse. He grunted in satisfaction at its condition before calling Nori over as he reached down to grab one limb. “We’re moving this out of the water. If Smaug could pollute the river, I don’t want to know what a bunch of orcs will do to it.”

“Nothing good,” the elf with Kili said. “It would be best if we could destroy all the orc bodies before they have a chance to poison the ground. Even ground as damaged as this deserves better than to have orcs rot on it.”

“Do we have enough coal to burn all those bodies?” Bilbo asked. He stared down at the battlefield and winced at the sheer number of bodies. “We used a lot with Smaug.”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Dwalin said. He glanced at Tauriel and cocked an eyebrow at her. “Do you think Thranduil would let us chop some trees for wood to burn everything?”

“Likely,” Tauriel said after several seconds of thought. “But I do not speak for him and cannot say for certain.”

“I can,” a voice called up from the ice side of the waterfall. A blonde elf heaved himself up and over the edge and breathed for several seconds before he stood up. “He’ll authorize the wood. Because we’re not burying those things and letting them rot would be wretched. And using enough coal to burn them all would pollute the ground as well.”

“I’m surprised you’re talking to us,” Thorin said. He was slowly leaning more of his weight onto Bilbo, and he sounded exhausted.

“So am I,” the blonde said. “But Tauriel is a good friend, so if she’s going to be mixed up with your shite, I need to get along with you.””

“Does that mean that you’ll apologize for the shite you put us through?” Kili asked.

“No,” the elf said, “My king demanded that you be held, and I obeyed my king.”

“Legolas,” Tauriel snapped, “Quit messing with them. Tell them.”

“Fine,” Legolas said with a sigh before he looked at Thorin. “Thranduil wanted you put in the lowest cells we had. I made sure that you were in the best. And yes, he has good and bad ones. I also made sure you were fed and fed well.”

Thorin huffed once before he waved one hand. “Okay. But Thranduil is still a bastard.”

Legolas snorted softly before he shook his head. “He is my king.”

“Understood,” Thorin said. “Now. We need to get down from here.”

Bilbo carefully turned them towards the path down Raven Hill and got them walking. “Let’s go.”

“Bossy,” Thorin said softly.

“I am indeed,” Bilbo confirmed. He coughed several times as the smoke from Nori’s fire blew in their direction. “Nori doesn’t get to light fires from now on.”

“Not bonfires at least. We’ll see about letting him light a small fire in a fireplace,” Thorin said, words coming in short bursts as they slowly walked down the hill. He groaned as they dropped down a level and landed heavily, “Mahal, that hurts.”

“You got the shite beat out of you, your nibs,” Nori called. “I’m not surprised you hurt.”

“Bah,” Thorin hissed. “Why is he the way he is?”

“Dori and Ori are lovely. Nori’s just unique,” Fili said as he came up Thorin’s free side and reached out to assist him. “Let me help. uncle.”

“Okay, I guess I’m hurt more than I thought,” Thorin said as he let Fili support part of his weight. “Are you injured?”

“Bruises and some minor cuts,” Fili reported. “Nori killed the orc that would have stabbed me in the back before he got a chance.”

“Okay, he can light fires,” Thorin said after several seconds. “But only outside Erebor.”

“Does that mean I can light one of the pyres when we burn the bodies?” Nori called.

“Sure,” Thorin confirmed.

“Great!”

Thorin laughed softly before groaning as they reached the bottom of the hill. “I’m going to regret that, I know it.”

“Maybe. But it should be interesting.” Bilbo said.

 

Epilogue

 

It took a solid month to deal with all the bodies. The only saving grace for everyone involved in the cleanup had been the drop in temperature. With winter fully started, the bodies had frozen and hadn’t rotted. That had allowed them the time they’d needed to complete all the funeral arrangements for the dwarrow and elves who had died in the battle.

When the last of their honored dead were laid to rest, the disgusting task of cleaning up the orcs and trolls had commenced. They had set up the pyres on the same plaza they had used for Smaug, and the fires had burned for more than a week. It had been disgusting.

While that was happening, Bilbo had started working with Bombur on cleaning up the Royal Apartments. They had found that most of the soft furnishings really hadn’t held up to the passage of time, so those items had been added to the burn pile for the pyres. One of the good things they had found was that the fuel storeroom for the Royal Apartments had indeed held well-seasoned oak. That wood Bilbo had made sure to save because it would let them cook.

The hardest part of the cleanup for him had been taking care of the chimneys and the pipes. Bilbo had crawled up each chimney to clean them out, and he counted his blessings that he hadn’t been tapped to check the pipes. But by the time the last of the bodies had been burned, they had gotten each of the first batch of apartments cleared out, cleaned, and ready for everyone to move into.

His grandfather had come through for him and had sent six Hobbit pouches back to him by raven, and each was labeled with what was inside. Four of the pouches contained enough food stores to carry them through the winter and into spring if managed correctly. One of the remaining two had been full of furniture and linens that he had Bombur had used to make each apartment habitable. The last pouch contained everything he’d wanted from Bag End and enough seeds that would allow him to show a Farm.

Everything that he’d wanted and then some had been included in that, and he was intensely grateful for all of it. All of his things had been used to furnish the suite he’d chosen for the Company, and his dwarrow had been very appreciative of his efforts. Bilbo had written back to his grandfather immediately upon opening the last pouch to thank him. That letter to his grandfather had been thick with extra thanks from everyone.

The raven had come back with a letter attached, and his grandfather had promised that they could reach out at any time for help from the Shire, and he’d supply it. He’d also written that Bag End was still Bilbo’s and no one would move in without his say so.

A weight Bilbo hadn’t known he was carrying slid off at that. He’d need to go home briefly, to take care of everything, but that could wait for spring. Gandalf was expected back about the same time, so he was going to ask the wizard about hitching a ride on an Eagle.

Bilbo hummed softly to himself as he finished slicing the bread for dinner and added it to the baskets he had set out. He and Bombur had been working on the meal for a bit, and it was almost ready.

“How much time do we have?” Thorin called as he walked into the parlor.

Bilbo leaned out of the kitchen and looked towards the door as the group who were working on cleaning the mines came back in. Each of them was dressed in the loose linen clothes he’d left in the bath for them that morning, for them to change into when they dumped their filthy work clothes. “It was that bad?”

“It’s beyond gross,” Fili muttered. “Despite what we thought, Smaug didn’t shit in every shaft, but it spread through the connecting shafts from the ones he did. So, there’s a lot of carryover pollution.”

“The mines aren’t going to be useful until we can get them cleared, and even then, getting them anywhere near clean isn’t going to happen for years,” Bofur griped as he walked over to the fireplace mantle and picked up his hat. He always made sure to leave the bloody thing behind at the start of the day, so it didn’t get ruined, and he put it on when he came back at the end of the day. “But we should be down to the active faces of the main mine in 6 months or so, based on our current progress.”

“Maybe less, if we can get more manpower,” Thorin called as he headed for their room to change into different clothes. “The faster we get that stuff out of Erebor, the safer it will be for everyone.”

“The groups working on the residential levels have cleared another block of apartments,” Balin called from his spot on the couch. Dori was camped out next to him, and both of them looked exhausted. “We’ve got tons of things to burn, so we’ll have to set a new set of fires outside.”

“Excellent. I’ll light one!” Nori called. He walked out of the room he was sharing with Dwalin and headed for his seat by the fireplace. “We’ve got the next batch of sun stones charged, and we’re placing them ahead of the cleanup teams. Once those are in place, we’ll get started on more. There’s a batch we have that is in lanterns, so they can be taken down into the mine.”

“Thank you. That will be very helpful,” Bofur said with a smile.

“I’ve checked the Royal Library today, and most of the books and scrolls in it are still in good shape. Smaug didn’t destroy it,” Ori reported from his spot at the end of the table. He had a large ledger in front of him and was entering something in, line by line. “I’ve been taking all the books we’ve discovered in the recovery process up to it and entering them into the record, so we know what we have.”

“That’s good news,” Thorin said as he walked out of their room. He’d added a sweater and house shoes to his outfit, and Bilbo smiled at the sight. “Did you also note which apartment the books and scrolls came out of, so if there are survivors, we can return them?”

“I did,” Ori said. He finished his entry and set his pen aside before inspecting the page he’d been working on against the slates he’d been referring to. “We’ve been keeping records of everything, so the heirs will know what is left of their families.”

“We’ve also recorded any supplies we’ve come across that are still useful. We found another storeroom full of seasoned wood, on the level we were checking,” Dori said. He walked over to stand behind Ori and read over his shoulder. “That’s the second we found on that level. It looks like there are two or three of them for each level, and it was as full as the rest. Thorin, was there a schedule for stocking those?”

“I don’t know,” Thorin said after several seconds of thought. “I wasn’t an adult when Smaug came, and I wasn’t fully trained. There was a lot I don’t know about Erebor.”

“There’s a lot you do know, though,” Balin reminded him. “But we’ll learn all the secrets about our home, never fear.”

“Bilbo, thank you for the use of one of your Hobbit pouches,” Glóin said as he walked in. Like the rest of the Company, he was dressed in the same linen outfit that everyone else was in. Despite how shiny the gold had seemed, it had been filthy. “We managed to move an appreciable amount of the gold out of the main hall. We’re going to have to clean it before we can stack it in the Treasury, but we’ve got a chance now.”

“Will you be washing the coins?” Bilbo asked. He scanned the room and saw that everyone was back in the apartment. Oin, Bifur, and Dwalin had taken over the second couch and were watching the exchanges. “Dinner is almost ready. If anyone needs to change, do so. I need the table set as well.”

“I can do that,” Kili said from his spot on the rug in front of the fire. He and Tauriel were stringing their bows in preparation for a hunt in the morning. “Do you want the full set?”

“Please,” Bilbo agreed. He turned back to the kitchen and started transferring finished dishes from the sideboard to the table. Bombur was putting the finishing touches on the soup before ladling it into tureens. “Tauriel, please make sure everyone has something to drink.”

“Got it, Bilbo,” Tauriel called. She rolled to her feet and started moving tankards onto the table. “Should I tap one of the small beers?”

Bilbo nodded as he placed the last tureen on the table. “Yes. Dinner isn’t fancy, and the beer is good to have.”

As everyone settled around the table, Bilbo brushed his fingers over the Hobbit pouch he had tucked in his pocket. His little gold ring was in there, and he was happy he’d had the strength to drop it in. He just needed to hold onto that strength so he could drop it into Mount Doom when the time came.

His family was new and precious. He wasn’t going to lose it due to a slip of gold.