What the Heart Wants: Book 3

10

The ground began to shake after Thorin's announcement and a rumbling to the left of us took our attention away from him. Over the hill, an army had begun to appear. They walked quite slowly and were led by a shorter man riding an armour-cladded pig. He had a long orange beard with hints of white, showing his age. He was decked out in regal armour and held a hammer in one hand and the reins of his pig in the other. I looked over at Bilbo who, at this point in our journey, seemed relatively unphased.

"Another dwarf?" He whispered to me.

"Ironfoot," Gandalf told us, not taking his eyes off the dwarf.

The Company began to cheer and, upon glancing up, Thorin bore a sinister smirk. They were expecting this army. I looked back towards Ironfoot and then quickly down at my outfit.

"Bilbo," I whispered, pulling on his sleeve.

He turned his head towards me but kept his eyes on Gandalf and the dwarf on the hill.

"I'm in a dress. I didn't dress for war. I was expecting to be locked back away in Thorin's room."

Bilbo finally looked at me and gave me a rather unexpected smile. I raised my eyebrow at his action and he was quick to explain himself, "It's just, you look like your mother. Or at least the pictures I've seen of her. I know the circumstances are unpleasant but you do look like a queen."

"I can't fight in this Bilbo!" I raised my voice, grateful for his compliment but ignoring it for the moment, "It's a velvet blue dress. I even have a hair clip to match."

"Nevermind that Ms. Baggins," Gandalf told me, turning his head to look at Thorin.

Thranduil interrupted us with some words in elvish as he rode through the crowd on his elk. The elves turned to face the dwarves on the hill and the men of Laketown followed suit shortly after. The group began marching towards the dwarves with Gandalf following. Bilbo and I glanced quickly at each other, running a bit to keep up with Gandalf's long strides.

"Who is that?" Bilbo finally asked, "He doesn't look very happy."

"It is Dain, lord of the Iron Hills. Thorin's cousin," Gandalf responded.

I nodded my head. That explained the excitement. I knew I should still be outraged at Thorin, but there was a part of me that felt sad my first interaction with his family member would be as someone on the opposite side of this war.

"Are they alike?" Bilbo continued his conversation with Gandalf while I listened in.

"I always found Thorin the more reasonable of the two," The wizard mumbled.

I almost let out a laugh and quickly placed my hand over my mouth to muffle any sound.

"Thorin? Reasonable?" I giggled out loud.

"You must remember him as he was before the mountain y/n. You know, probably better than most here, that he had a reasonable, kinder side. I know he hurt you but those actions were influenced by a parasite-like sickness in his brain. He's lost control of himself and, unfortunately, that was taken out on you," Gandalf lectured, shutting me up.

"If it makes you feel better," Bilbo chimed in, "I think he's an arse."

I sighed, "Damnit. Gandalf's right. I shouldn't have gone over. I should have stayed with him."

"No y/n, he hurt you!" Bilbo responded quickly.

"He didn't hurt me. The sickness hurt me. And the sickness hurt me far less than it's hurting him. He told me I was the one person that made him feel normal and I left him."

"How do you know he would ever change? Ever return to normal? You can't keep trying to save someone who is incapable of being saved."

"But I love him, Bilbo."