1 | dark pasts [oakenshield]

Five

Kayla was somehow able to put Bilbo's arm over her shoulder and drag him to the living room. Setting him down on a chair, she sighed.

"Bilbo," she whispered. "Bilbo, wake up." She shook him lightly. "Bilbo!"

With a jump, Bilbo woke. He looked around frantically, flailing in his seat. He calmed down when a gentle hand was put on his shoulder, and he saw that Kayla was with him. He gave her a thankful smile, to which she returned. She left for the kitchen, leaving Bilbo in peace for a few minutes, until she came back with a hot mug of tea.

"Here," she said, giving him the cup. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be alright, just let me sit quietly for a moment," he responded in a shaky tone, taking the mug.

"You've been sitting quietly for far too long," said Gandalf, entering the living room now. "Tell me, when did doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you? I remember a young Hobbit who was always running off in search of Elves in the woods."

"Ta-da," said Kayla playfully. Bilbo smiled a little. "Should I leave?"

Gandalf nodded. "That would be wise."

With a little nod of her head, she left the room. Making her way to the main room, she sat near the fire and closed her eyes. Five minutes later did she sense a presence near her.

"You declined, didn't you?" she asked quietly, not opening her eyes.

Bilbo sighed and sat on his bed. "I'm sorry, Kayla, but you've got the wrong Hobbit."

She sighed. Opening her eyes, she looked to the left. Balin and Thorin were far from the others, and they seemed to be in a heated conversation. Thorin was leaning on a wall, while Balin was sitting down on a chair.

"It appears we have lost our burglar," said Balin in a low tone. "Probably for the best." Thorin eyed him and raised an eyebrow. "The odds were always against us. After all, what are we? Merchants, miners, tinkers, toy-makers." Balin chuckled blankly. "Hardly the stuff of legend."

"There are a few warriors amongst us," said Thorin to Balin, and Balin shrugged.

"Old warriors," he corrected.

"I would take each and every one of these Dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills," stated Thorin, getting off the wall he was leaning on. "For when I called upon them, they answered. Loyalty, honor, a willing heart. I can ask no more then that."

"And the Elf?" asked Balin, looking over at Kayla. She quickly averted her eyes and trained them on the fire, avoiding his gaze.

Thorin scowled toward her direction. "I don't trust her, and I don't like her. Her father is my sworn enemy, and I will never forget what her kind did to us," he grumbled.

Kayla tensed. Bite me, Dwarf.

Balin stood up from his chair. "You don't have to do this," he said in a reasoning tone. "You have a choice. You've done honorably by our people. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains. A life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor."

"From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me," said Thorin, holding up the key. "They dreamt of the day when the Dwarves of Erebor reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin. Not for me."

Balin sighed. With a little nod of his head, Balin clapped him on the shoulder. "Then we are with you, laddie. We will see it done."

Although far off, Kayla heard everything. Smiling, she looked to Balin. He and Thorin were coming her way, and Kayla automatically scurried to the window. Thorin leaned on the wall nearest to the fire place, a pipe in hand. Balin stood next to him, Bofur sat on a couch, and the Dwarves were coming in. Hums filled the room, and Kayla closed her eyes as she leaned on the window pan, Thorin leading the song: