Chapter Text
Bilbo could hear voices arguing as he approached the tent containing Bard and Thranduil, the arkenstone a heavy weight in his pocket. He could feel the cold air stinging his cheeks as he walked. As he got closer he could see Bard and Gandalf standing a few feet away from the tent. Finally, he was close enough to make out what the voices were saying.
“It will not come to that. This is a fight they cannot win.” Bard said to Gandalf.
“That won’t stop them. You think the dwarves will surrender, they won’t. They will fight to the death to defend their own.” Bilbo said to the pair as he reached his destination.
“Bilbo Baggins!” Gandalf said with a smile on his face. “How glad I am to see you.” He saw Bilbo shivering in the cold night air. “Come Bilbo,” Gandalf said. “Let’s get you warmed up.”
The tree of them made their way into the tent, and Gandalf offered him a blanket to put around his shoulders. After warming up, Bilbo removed the blanket and went to stand with the other three occupants of the spacious tent.
“If I am not mistaken, this is the halfling that stole the keys of my dungeons from under the nose of my guards.” Thranduil said with a raised eyebrow as he went to sit on his makeshift throne.
“Yes,” Bilbo said sheepishly. “Sorry about that.” Bilbo walked towards the table in the middle of the tent, reaching into his pocket. “I came to give you this.” He said as he placed the object in his hand on the table, unwrapping it to reveal the arkenstone, the gem seeming to glow from the inside.
The other occupants of the tent looked towards it in shock. “The heart of the mountain,” Thranduil whispered. “The king’s jewel.”
Bard walked across the tent towards the table. “And worth a king's ransom. How is this yours to give?” He said as he and Thranduil looked at him.
“I took it as my fourteenth share of the treasure.” Bilbo said.
“Why would you do this? You owe us no loyalty.”
“I’m not doing it for you.” Bilbo said, shaking his head. “I know that dwarves can be obstinate, and pigheaded, and difficult. Suspicious and secretive with the worst manner you can possibly imagine. But they are also brave, and kind, and loyal to a fault. I’ve grown very fond of them, and I would save them if I can.”
“Now Thorin values this stone above all else,” Bilbo pointed towards the arkenstone. “In exchange for its return I believe he will give you what you are owed. There will be no need for war.”
Bard and Thranduil looked at each other. “We will take it.” Thranduil said.
Bilbo sighed in relief and satisfaction. War would be avoided.
***
Time seemed to stop as Bard pulled the arkenstone out of his pocket. He could hear his nephew yelling, but couldn’t make out what he was saying. All he could focus on was the arkenstone, no, the fake arkenstone. It couldn’t be real. It just couldn’t.
“They are taking us for fools. It is a ruse. A filthy lie. The arkenstone is in the mountain! It is a trick!” Thorin said, glaring down at the man.
“It’s— it’s no trick. The stone is real. I gave it to them.”
He turned around and saw Bilbo, his Bilbo, facing towards him, the other dwarves looking on in shock.
“I took it as my fourteenth share.”
Thorin felt his heart break, hurt and betrayal flooding through him. “You would steal from me?” He said as tears filled his eyes.
Bilbo smiled. “Steal from you? No. I may be a burglar, but I like to think I’m an honest one. I’m willing to let it stand against my claim.”
His words only made the betrayal hurt more. Thorin knew there was something wrong with him, wrong with his mind. He could feel himself almost break out of it when Bilbo showed him the acorn, but when Dwalin walked in and told him about the lake men, he slipped back into his mind. He could feel his mouth moving, but couldn’t hear what he was saying. He felt his body move of its own accord, walking towards Bilbo, but stopped as he heard what Bilbo was saying.
“You have changed, Thorin. The dwarf I met in Bag End, would never have gone back on his word, would never have doubted the loyalty of his kin!”
He could feel his mind at war with itself, trying to break free of whatever had its hold on it. “Do not speak to me of loyalty.” He said in a trembling voice. “Throw him from the ramparts!” He yelled as anger replaced the sorrow.
No one moved. “Did you not hear me?!” He said as he grabbed his Filis arm. Something inside him was screaming at him to stop, don’t do this, please! But he couldn’t find it in himself to listen. “I will do it myself!” He stomped towards Bilbo and grabbed him by his coat, but all of a sudden he couldn’t move. Am I really going to do this? Do I really want this?
No, I don’t. He let go of Bilbo and stumbled backwards, almost falling before Dwalin caught him, immediately letting go once he was stable. As the anger left him, everything else came back all at once. My one has betrayed me. He let out a scream and fell to his knees, voices whispering in his head. He ducked his head, tears falling to the ground as he cried silently, not wanting the others to hear. He felt his world crumbling around him. When he felt like he had no more tears left to cry, he stood and took off the raven crown, walking towards his oldest nephew.
“You are now king. If my one could hate me so much as to betray me, then I am not worthy of the crown.” Gasps surrounded him at his words.
“He is your one?” Fili said softly, but Thorin ignored his words as he walked towards the mountain.
He entered the mountain and headed towards the rooms he lived in when he was just a prince, before Erebor fell. He sat on his old dusty bed and put his head in his hands. What did I do to deserve this? He thought to himself. But he knew. I was horrible to my companions, my own kin. Memories of his time after taking back the mountain flooded through him, forcing his friends to search and search the treasury for hours on end, all for a stupid stone. He sat there and thought for what felt like days, when he heard a familiar horn. An orc horn. He stood up and raced towards the nearest balcony, and stared in horror as legions and legions of orcs flooded the valley. He saw what must have been Dains army backing towards the mountain. At the sight, determination flooded through him.
He stood and walked towards where he hoped his companions would be, tear tracks dried on his face. Before joining his company, he made a quick stop at the armory, removing his bulky armor and changing into something lighter and easier to move in. He grabbed a sword and set out towards his companions.