Bilbo stood by and did nothing while the one person he could call his best friend lay on a kitchen table, dying slowly. The poor hobbit began to breathe heavily, tears clouding his eyes as he sat down quickly. Fear and worry overtook him. He knew that he could handle himself well, but since he left his little home in the Shire, the Scarlet Ranger had always been there to make sure he was alright. The thought of losing her created a whirlwind of panic within him.
And Bilbo was not the only one. Almost silently, the entire company watched. Despite Thorin's mistrust of her, the rest of the group valued her and her company. Balin shed a few tears, and Bofur removed his hat. They were solemn faced, ashen, with worn and tired looks. Thorin stood by the window, looking out on the lazy town with an impatient gaze upon his face. Dwalin came to his side.
"What do we do now?" he asked hesitantly. Thorin stood silent for a moment.
"We cannot risk this mission for the sake of a she-elf," he whispered feverishly.
"She's not just some she-elf," Fili turned from his place by the mantle to look at his uncle. "You know that as well as any of us."
"It doesn't matter. Durin's Day is upon us, and I promise you, I will be up there when the door opens." It was as though his speech gave him life again. "Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bombur, Bofur, Balin, Fili, Kili, Bilbo," he spoke each of their names as they turned to gaze upon him, "we need to go."
Bard had left his house an hour ago, in search of some medicine for his sick friend. By the time he came back, defeated and empty handed, his house was empty.
"Da, I tried to stop them but-" Bain said frantically.
"Where are they?"
A loud crash was all it took. Thorin stupidly had given the weapons to his nephew whose leg had not yet been tended to, and Kili had fallen with the weapons in hand. The crash echoed through the weaponry they had broken into and throughout the small town for that matter. Quickly, footsteps approached and they all look around warily. The dwarves outside tried to run but soon came face to face with the weapons of the guards.
Inside, Thorin commanded them to grab weapons, but a dagger held tight against Kili's throat and the threat of being stabbed himself made him drop everything in defeat.
They were dragged to the very center of town. A circle around them was formed as practically everyone in the town watched on. The Master of the town and his "trusted" companion, Alfrid, made their way outside due to the commotion, still trying to fit his arms in his winter coat.
"What is the meaning of this?" he splutters, spit spraying from his lips. A guard beside Thorin decided to speak.
"We caught 'em stealing weapons, sire."
"Ah," the master replied, "enemies of the state then."
"This is a bunch of mercenaries if ever I saw, sire," Alfrid pitched in, his forked tongue peaking through his rotting teeth.
"Hold your tongue!" Dwalin shouted, despite a warning poke from a guard behind him. "You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal, this is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!" The crowd around them began to murmur in amazement.
"We are the dwarves of Erebor," Thorin spoke up, stepping forward as was his duty as the King. "We have come to reclaim our homeland," he said, glancing around. "I remember this town in the great days of old. Fleets of boats lay at harbor, filled with silks and fine gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake! This was the center of all trade in the North!" he spoke with passion, and the people began to nod in remembrance and agreement. "I would see those days return. I would relight the great forges of the dwarves and send wealth and riches flowing once more from the halls of Erebor!"
The people cheered and clapped, enjoying the idea of their home returned to its former glory. But there was one person in the crowd who was not cheering for the dwarves. Bard pushed his way through the crowd, shouting one word above all others.
"Death! You will bring nothing upon us but dragon-fire and ruin!" The crowds quieted down once again, and the people whispered to each other anxiously.
"You can listen to this naysayer, but I promise you this; if we succeed, all will share in the wealth of the mountain. You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!" and with this, the people erupted in applause once again. The master looked on, a twisted grin upon his face. Bard shook his head and opened his mouth to speak again, but Thorin beat him to it.
"I speak to the Master of the men of the Lake. Will you see this prophecy fulfilled? Will you share in the great wealth of our people?" he spoke richly, and the crowd stayed quiet. "What say you?"
The master nodded his head, then he smiled and pointed a solitary finger at the king under the mountain. " I say unto you... welcome! Welcome and thrice welcome, King under the Mountain!" the Master opened his arms in joy at the prospect of more riches.
A party was thrown later that night. Drinks and food were given to the dwarves of Erebor, as was new armour and plenty of weapons for all. Music was bursting from the main hall, and light flooded the usually cold and darkened streets on the lake. The company of dwarves (and a hobbit) were enjoying themselves immensely, taking in all of the provisions that the town was generous enough to give them for their quest.
All were taking part in the festivities, except for one. The dark haired prince couldn't stand the sounds and the people. Normally, he would have loved to partake and enjoy himself, as being one of the youngest in the group entailed. However, besides the nearly unbearable pain emanating from his leg, he couldn't stop thinking about her. Every time he closed his eyes, he imagined her; her body slumping against him, unconscious, her gasps for air, the blood dripping through her fingers. He shuddered, and suddenly felt very guilty for being where he was when she could be close to dying.
He looked inside once again, for he had escaped the party to catch his breath, standing on the balcony, seeing the glimmer of the shining lake in the moonlight and just beyond, the silhouette of a majestic peak that stood in full glory. He sighed, and with one last glance towards the party he knew he wouldn't be missed in, he turned away and limped home.
Elvira had yet to wake up by the time he got back. The children and the bargeman were there as well, for Bard had no desire to partake in festivities created for a quest he did not support. He stood by the door defensively, watching as his eldest daughter tended to an unconscious warrior's wounds. Bain stood by as well, near the fire where he kept his little sister busy and out of the way of Sigrid's work.
"How is she?" a voice resonated through the little house. Bard turned to look at the dark haired dwarf who had been glaring at him earlier that very day.
"She has lost a lot of blood, but she should be awake by morning," Bard said quietly. Silence filled the house.
"I'm awake now," a raspy, slurred groan replied. Sigrid ran quickly to the table, and Bain stood from his seat on the floor near the fire. Kili all but ran to her, or as best as he could considering his own hindrances.
"Eli," he whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder to try and push her back down as the stubborn elf attempted to sit up. She held a hand up to stop him, closing her eyes in a grimace.
"I'm okay," she whispered, and finally looked him in the eye. Cracking a smile, she said, "I've been worse."
"You say that every time, and I'm starting to think you're lying to me," he chuckled, making her smile again.
"You really should rest, Scarlet Ranger," Sigrid interrupted, worried her bandages wouldn't hold.
"Please darling, call me Elvira," the Ranger replied, "and you've done a marvelous job making me better. I promise, I'm alright." With shaky breath, Elvira gently put her feet down onto the ground again.
"Can I get you anything?" Bain asked nervously. Elvira shook her head and smiled.
"I'm glad you're alright," little Tilda squeaked, wrapping her arms around the Ranger's legs gently. Elvira grinned.
"You know what my dear? Me too."
Morning came quickly. Elvira's wounds had begun to heal nicely, thanks to Sigrid's healing hands. The bandages still leaked slightly, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. The dwarves had stumbled in one by one throughout all hours of the night, and by the first light, Thorin had begun to wake everyone up. The prospect of the mountain was looming upon him, and being so close to it on the very day the door would appear made the King under the Mountain restless.
Kili had woken up, but he kept his eyes shut for a moment longer. He intended to stand up, but hushed voices caused him to stay where he was.
"I wish you wouldn't go," the voice of Bard the Bargeman whispered.
"You and I both know I cannot stay," a female voice replied. The voice could only belong to one person.
"Your injuries-"
"Are fine. You've got quite the nurse of a daughter in the making, I'll give you that," she chuckled. Silence ensued. "Sigrid, she's... she's just like her, isn't she?" Bard hummed.
"Becomes like her more and more each day."
"I'm sorry Bard," Elvira sighed, "for that day. I'm sorry I wasn't able to-"
"You did plenty," he shushed her. "None of us would be alive now had it not been for you." More silence followed, and Kili couldn't help but hold his breath. "Promise me you'll be careful?"
"When am I not careful?"
"Nearly every day of your life," Bard sighed. Elvira laughed.
"Well I suppose I can't promise that, then. This isn't the last you'll see of me though, Bargeman, I will promise you that."
"I should hope not," he said. Kili couldn't help but frown while his eyes were shut tight, fighting hard to push down the swelling jealousy he could feel beginning to rage inside of him.
"I should probably wake him up now," she said again.
"He cares for you," Bard replied. "He was here last night waiting for you to wake. Despite what else has happened, he cares about you." He could hear her sigh once more.
"Take care Bard, and thank you for everything." Kili took that as his cue to open his eyes.
The dwarf prince walked behind Elvira as the town lined up to send them on their way. Through the dreadful music of the "band" and the people's cheers, Kili was able to hear her voice; a whisper upon the wind that he knew only he would be able to hear.
"What will it take to get you to trust me?"
He thought for a moment. What would it take? What was he asking of her exactly? He could hardly answer his own question. It was a dreadful proposition he had put upon her, and he felt guilty.
"For starters," he smiled when he noticed her glance back at him, "you could forgive me."
"Already done. Now what?" she chuckled, throwing a grin over her shoulder. He smiled wide and watched her take his brother's hand as Fili helped her climb into the boat before him. With a smirk, he made to follow.
"Not you," his uncle stopped him on the dock. Elvira turned around to watch with wide eyes. "We must travel with speed, you'll slow us down." Thorin would not look at his nephew. Kili scoffed, a mischievous grin taking place on his lips once again, not believing a word of what he was saying.
"What are you talking about? I'm coming with you." Thorin shook his head. Kili glanced behind to see Elvira and Fili watching from the boat in shock. "I'm going to be there when that door is opened, when we first look upon the halls of our fathers, Thorin," Kili argued.
"Stay here, rest. Join us when you're healed," Thorin replied, and turned away. Quickly, Oin climbed out of the boat as well.
"I'll stay with the lad, my duty lies with the wounded," he said. Quickly too, Fili began to argue with his uncle.
"Uncle, we grew up on tales of the mountain, tales that you told us! You can't take that away from him!"
"Fili-"
"I will carry him if I must!"
"You will be a King, and soon you'll understand. I cannot risk the fate of this quest for the sake of one dwarf, not even my own kin," Thorin said. Elvira frowned at his words. She took a step and made to get off the boat, for the thought of leaving Kili behind didn't suit her well. However, a hand placed upon her shoulder halted her steps. Fili nodded once towards her and stepped off.
"Fili, don't be a fool. You belong with the Company," Thorin tried to reason, but Fili pushed his uncle's hand away.
"I belong with my brother." The blonde took one last look at Elvira before making his way to his brother. The boat gave one final lurch, the band began to play their horrendous tune once more, and Kili glanced up to meet the eyes of the Scarlet Ranger for perhaps the last time.
hope you guys liked this chapter! It's kind of trash but ya know
I know it's been quite a while, but thanks for all of the support and love!
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em