Homeward Bound Part One: An Unexpected Journey

Chapter Forty-Four

Bilba struggled to open her eyes, the simple act incredibly hard as the lids felt like they weighed a ton.

Blurry shapes came slowly into focus with each sluggish blink until she realized she was staring at dark rock overhead. Dim light played off it in slow patterns, creating strange shapes and shadows.

Bilba frowned in confusion. Since when did Bag End have stone ceilings?

She cast her mind back; her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

Dim memories floated lazily to the surface, hands grabbing her, coaxing her to eat and drink, familiar voices talking to her though she couldn't make out what they said.

Oh, Bilba remembered with a start, that's right, the quest. She wasn't in Bag End anymore, or even the Shire. She'd left with a bunch of dwarves she barely knew, trekked halfway across Middle Earth, nearly died a half dozen times and finally ended things by pissing off a dragon...in Erebor. The Lonely Mountain.

Her head was clearing. Bilba shifted slightly, enough to take in her surroundings. She appeared to be in a small chamber. Broken bits of wood and other debris littered it, there was no telling what it had been before the mountain fell.

She was alone.

Where was everyone?

Something niggled at the back of her mind. She was forgetting something, something important.

She lifted a hand to push wayward strands of hair off her forehead before lowering it to rest on her chest.

Unfamiliar, rich fabric lay under her fingers. She wasn't wearing the clothing she'd had on before. Why --

Memory crashed back in with such force she physically gasped.

Her eyes burned and she struggled to swallow past the sudden, jagged stone lodged in her throat. Hot tears tracked down her face and she ground the heels of her hands into her eyes, choking on a sob.

"Bilba?" Boots scraped across rock and she felt someone kneeling beside her, a hand on her shoulder. "Bilba, please. Please don't cry."

Bilba pulled her hands away and focused on the blurry image of Kili. Reaching out she grabbed his shirt and dragged herself up to a sitting position where she immediately wrapped both arms around his chest and buried her face against his shirt. "I killed them," she choked out, "Kili, I killed them."

She felt him flinch, and then his arms came around her in a tight grip. "No, you didn't," he insisted. "Bilba, this wasn't your fault."

"I took them into a dragon's den," Bilba maintained, her voice hoarse and breaking, "how is it not my fault?"

"You didn't know." Kili shifted so he could look her in the eyes and repeated the words in a deliberate tone. "You didn't know." He swallowed and an anxious look entered his eyes, as though he struggled with something. Finally he took a deep breath and said, "What if--" He swallowed again. "I mean, what if they're okay? Or—maybe one of them? Smaug said twins—maybe--" He ducked his head. "I don't want to get your hopes up...or make it worse...but we don't know, you know?"

Bilba nodded dully, her own eyes focused on the ground, pain still twisting her heart. She had barely known about them and might have already lost them. "Did you tell?" Her voice dropped to a low whisper, the words barely breathed out.

"No," Kili answered instantly.

Bilba leaned forward and dropped her head against his shoulder, her entire body sagging against him. The last thing she wanted was for Thorin to know he had been a father...had been, might have been, could have been...should have been...wasn't.