A Shot in the Dark (Thilbo - Bagginshield)

Chapter 42

"I can walk by myself, Óin," he complained to the healer for the sixth time in ten minutes. "You can let go of me anytime now."

"I know you can walk," the Dwarf reassured, never loosening his grip. "I'm holding onto you in case you try to run off on some crazy and solo martyr mission. Again."

He scoffed and waved his free hand at their surroundings. "Where do you expect me to go? Back to Mordor?"

"You did it once already. I wouldn't put it past you to try it a second time," the healer replied, giving him a side-eyed glare.

"There would be no point. I don't have the ring anymore."

"Where did you find that blasted piece of evil anyways?" Óin wondered, raising one bushy brow. "Did you have it before you joined us, or did you acquire it later?"

"Later," he replied, shaking his head. "Remember the Misty Mountains? I found it in the tunnels there."

At his side, Dwalin suddenly made a noise in his throat that sounded like a strangled cough. It was the first hint of acknowledgment that he had gotten from the Dwarf all day.

"What did you say?" the warrior rasped, stopping and grabbing his shoulder and turning the Hobbit to face him. "You found it where?"

"In the Misty Mountains," he repeated, blinking in confusion before his brain finally caught up with the conversation. "Oh! It was in the caverns we found! Remember when you were knocked out and I told you it was by a falling rock? Yeah, I lied. Gollum had done it and so I confronted him and took the ring then."

Dwalin looked like he had just watched Thorin die all over again. "What?"

"What's wrong? Why are you so upset?" Óin asked, squinting at him.

"You were under my protection when you found it," Dwalin said, ignoring the healer as he continued to stare at Bilbo. "I should have been more aware and kept it from you. Oh, Mahâl, I have failed you…"

The Hobbit scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You could hardly protect me from something you had no knowledge of. Besides, I have memories of the future, remember? I would have found it one way or another."

Dwalin did not look at all reassured by his words. But before he could descend into a puddle of gloom and guilt, Óin reached over Bilbo's head and smacked the warrior on the side of his head.

"Knock it off," he ordered, glaring at his cousin. "We are not playing this game of who can wallow in his own self-pity and guilt the most! It's bad enough that I have to put up with our burglar and king competing for the title; I don't need you joining the competition!"

"I think we can all safely say that Thorin is still the undisputed king of that," Bilbo commented.

Dwalin scowled and rubbed his head. "I'm not brooding—"

"Don't make me get Balin," the older Dwarf threatened.

Dwalin immediately closed his mouth.

"There's really no point in dwelling on it," Bilbo consoled, patting his friend on the arm. "What's done is done. Let's just move on now, okay?"

The warrior did not look as if he was going to let it go anytime soon, but he did release the Hobbit and rejoined the others in their march. Bilbo shared a look with Óin before following after their stubborn friend.