Homeward Bound Part One: An Unexpected Journey

Chapter Fourteen

It was the sight of Kili's bow that jogged her memory, and gave her the idea. She didn't have access to them, but she knew where to find another one. If she could recover it, along with some arrows, and give them to Thorin...

Yes, it would work, Bilba was sure of it.

She made sure Thorin would stay put, which he seemed prone to doing anyway, and headed out, running along the forest floor and trying to ignore the echoes of footsteps from the past rattling inside her head.

The cave was easier to find than she remembered.

A wall rose in front of her and and she pressed her hands against it, feeling the cool stone underneath her palms.

She moved her hands across it until the rock vanished. She stumbled forward a step before catching herself.

And then she was at the end of her journey.

The opening was little more than a cleft, narrow and low. Far too small for the Trolls to enter. She remembered them lumbering past much later, after the sky had cleared from the rain and the sun had begun to return, entering a different cave a hundred or so yards away.

She rested her hand for a split second on the entrance and then quietly stepped past. A light breeze from inside, ice laden and stale, drifted around her as she did, causing her to shiver. Absolute silence pressed in on her from the opening, giving no hint of the secrets contained within.

The stink from the Troll cave hit her before she even arrived, bringing back memories of those early days after. She'd only dared venture out during the day, or when the sky wasn't overcast and she still wasn't entirely sure what made her step inside one evening after the beasts had left. Morbid curiosity perhaps, or a vague thought of finding something that could help her kill them.

She'd found weapons all right, but none she could use.

At least none she could have used then.

The cave was pure black inside. Her eyes strained to adjust but there was nothing for them to adjust to, just an absence of light so intense it was a near physical thing pressing down on her. She was forced to place a hand against the wall, grimacing at the feel of lichen, and who knew what else, coating it.

Carefully she shuffled forward, her feet kicking aside debris and other, fouler, things.

Her foot struck the edge of a wooden barrel.

She dropped to her knees and began feeling around, her fingers brushing through bits of leather, debris and, a few times, long, smooth objects she tried desperately not to think about.

Metal clanged and jangled as she shoved aside swords and daggers, pieces of armor and broken helms. Where was it? She remembered clearly seeing it the last time but it didn't mean it was still in the same place. Should she check the barrels?

Her thoughts went to her friends, particularly Thorin who couldn't be trusted not to rush in like an idiot if left unattended, and her stomach knotted. She had no time to dawdle, already it could be too la –

Her fingers closed over a curved, slim shape and the rush of relief was so profound it left her shaking. She dragged the bow out, the weight of the metal pulling her arms down. It wasn't built for a Hobbit and she hoped it would be all right for Thorin. He was tall for a Dwarf; he should be able to make it work.

A quick search turned up the arrows she remembered being scattered about and then she was up and out as fast as possible.

She didn't look at that smaller cave as she went. She had the living to worry about; the dead would have to wait.