A Shot in the Dark (Thilbo - Bagginshield)

Chapter 22

The Arkenstone was heavier than he recalled.

It settled in his cupped hands easily; twinkling up at him with a faint white glow that caught the moonlight. When he tilted it back, he could see his reflection in the smooth surface of the jewel. His face—paler and thinner than he recalled—stared back at him with pursed lips and brown eyes highlighted by the dark smudges underneath each eye.

Compared to the flawless Elf before him, he looked like some sort of sad and beaten creature.

"This is the Arkenstone," Thranduil said softly, his marble eyes also fixed on the stone. "Where did you find it?"

"I took it from Thorin," Bilbo replied, the words tasting like ash and dirt in his mouth. "I have claimed it as my share of the treasure to give to you."

"It is a pretty stone," the Elven monarch confessed, his gaze never moving from the Arkenstone. "However, it is still just one jewel. My reward was to be more than this."

He scowled up at the Elf. "And it will be if you play your cards right. Use this stone to get Thorin to hand over the amount that was promised. Rest assured that he will pay any price you ask for this stupid jewel."

Thranduil's arctic eyes finally rose from the stone to Bilbo's face. "You do not care for it."

"No, I don't," the Hobbit admitted. When he had slipped out of Erebor, it had taken every bit of willpower not to throw the stone off the mountain and watch it shatter into a million pieces on the ground below. Only the memory of his friends' bodies kept him from it. "It is nothing more than a pretty trinket poisoning Thorin's mind. If I could, I would toss it into the ocean never to be seen again. But since that won't solve any of my problems, I am going to use it to work out a deal with you."

Thranduil's eyes became hooded. "You wish to make another deal with me after failing to deliver on the first one? You are an arrogant creature, halfling."

"For the last time: my name is Bilbo and not halfling," he scolded, glaring up at the king, "and this deal is important to you too. As of right now there is an army of Orcs and Goblins on the march to Erebor. They are destroying everything in their path—including Mirkwood—to get here. Now we can spend what little time we have left fighting amongst ourselves over some gold trinkets and silver rings, or we can combine our forces and take this filth out once and for all. What is it going to be?"

"What makes you think the Dwarves will fight with us?" the Elvenking questioned, looking unfazed by the news of a possible army invading his kingdom. He was probably already aware of it.

"They will join," Bilbo said with confidence. "Despite what you believe, they are not stupid. They know that we cannot stand against this army alone. They will fight with you and the Men of Lake-town if you come."

Thranduil stared at him with his ancient eyes for a long time. When he finally spoke again, his voice had hardened with the faintest hint of iron. "I will summon the Men of Lake-town to join our forces. This battle affects them just as much as it does my people and the Dwarves. But you must convince that Fool Under the Mountain to join us. He will not listen to me."

He flinched. "He won't listen to me either. But if you use the Arkenstone correctly, then you can get him to agree to the gold and alliance."

"He will not forget this betrayal," the Elf warned, his forehead wrinkling the slightest bit. "Dwarves never forget. Dwarves never forgive."

Bilbo snorted. He didn't need the Elf to warn him; not when he lived with the consequences of his actions for a lifetime. "I am aware of that. But I don't care. I would rather that he live and hate me than die as my friend."