A Shot in the Dark (Thilbo - Bagginshield)

Chapter 25

Because without any of them, Dori knew he would be lonely too.

~*~

Bilbo had forgotten how noisy war could be.

It was a silly and insignificant detail for him to recall in the middle of a battlefield. But—riding through the dead terrain on Beorn's back while Tauriel cut down Orc and Goblin alike with her sword—the noise was all he could focus on. He could hear the clash of iron on iron as weapons met and armor was struck. He could hear the battle cries of every race—the guttural Orcs; the screeching Goblins; the chanting Elves; the booming Dwarves; and even the roaring Men—as they created a symphony of war together. He could even hear the screams of pain and death as both his allies and enemies fell to a blade or arrow or axe. The last cries made him squeeze his eyes shut and bury his fingers tighter in Beorn's fur.

He didn't want to listen to the songs of the dead again.

"I think I see some of your comrades!" Tauriel commented after a time had passed. He opened his eyes and looked to where the Elf pointed, and spotted what looked like Nori, Balin, and Glóin. They fought back-to-back in a circle against the enemy and were sporting a few injuries. Balin in particular had a slash across his face that had smeared blood over his cheeks like war paint.

"Shall we go to them?" the Elf behind him asked and he nodded as he pulled out his whistle.

"Without question," Bilbo declared before blowing his whistle as hard as possible.

The Dwarves all turned as one at the sound. Unfortunately, the orcs and wargs and goblins also turned to face the descending trio too. His Dwarves were able to stop a few but most of them began to charge them; their bloody weapons ready to open more throats.

"Beorn, don't attack them!" Bilbo ordered as he pulled out his pouch from his coat and quickly opened it to retrieve a handful of smaller packs. Along with it he pulled out a match and quickly lit it up.

"What are you doing?" Tauriel asked as she took out some of the Wargs with her bow.

"Watch," he replied before lighting the small bundles and throwing them as hard as he could towards the incoming fiends.

The results were instant. The small packs blew up; some in midflight and others the moment they touched the Orcs and Goblins. Bits of flesh and armor went flying through the air as the victims shrieked and fell to the ground. Some twisted about on fire while others simply bled out from their newly inflected wounds.

"What did you do?" Tauriel gasped in his ear as her grip around his waist tightened.

He rolled his eyes. "I blew them up, obviously."

"Yes, I got that part, but how?" the Elf retorted as Beorn began to gallop towards the Dwarves.

"With sulfur, charcoal, and saltpeter," he listed easily. "It's the ingredients to Gandalf's fireworks."

"When did you make those?" the warrior wondered.

"Yesterday," he explained, wincing as Beorn stomped on an incoming Goblin without pausing. "What do you think I was doing all day? Crying my eyes out and writing sad poems?"

Tauriel laughed her wind chime laugh and pulled her bow out again as they finally arrived to where the Dwarves stood. Beorn had not even stopped before Bilbo was pushing Tauriel away and sliding off of the bear's back. He sprinted towards his friends and tried his best not to trip or slip on the bloody corpses around him.

"Bilbo!" Glóin cried out in greeting; catching him in a hug with one arm and swinging the Hobbit around so he could bash his axe into the unprotected abdomen of an incoming Orc. "What are you doing here?! Gandalf said you would be with that damn leaf-eater in the camp!"