An Unexpected Addition (Thilbo - Bagginshield)

Rafting

"That's not a raft, it's a blob of wood."

The dwarves had been toiling away for several hours under Dori's guidance, very slowly and tediously constructing a makeshift raft from the old supplies and crates that'd been left down there after Smaug's attack. Bifur had stayed off to the side with the young children, whittling away at unusable scraps of wood to keep them entertained and relaxed while the adults worked. The most injured dwarfling, Farina, was leaning against the axe-ridden miner's crossed legs, knocked into a drowsy sleep by the pain medication that Óin had given her. All of them were working as fast as possible for Farina's sake, her pallor a source of increasing worry to them.

"I don't think it's that terrible," said Bilbo, circling around the raft with a critical eye. "Maybe with a lil' more rope..."

"We're gonna be swimming with the fishies, I think."

Bilbo pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, "Bofur, we've talked about the gallows humor thing. Not around the children, please. And most especially not around a pair of hobbits."

"Oops, sorry."

"It's quite alright, we've all had a long day as it is," said Bilbo with an accepting smile. "Now, Dori, how likely am I to survive on this raft of yours?"

"Well, the waterfall seems to be directly behind us," answered the oldest brother, "So I'm estimating that the remainder of the underground river should be rather tame by navigational standards. We'll have to be careful of rocks and sharp turns, but the crystals and their light should greatly reduce our chances of crashing. And if I remember the old maps correctly from childhood, then this particular branch of the river will conjoin with three others and then flow out past the front gates of the city."

"That's all well and good, but is this thing even gonna float?" asked Fíli. "It's got quite a few holes in it."

Another boom came from above them.

"I think I'll take my chances with the holey, wooden blob of doom," said Kíli, his head tipped back to gaze at the ceiling. "That's boom number eight now."

"Damn bastards are destroying my city," growled Thorin.

"I'd still rather clean up rubble than dragon poo," cringed Kíli with a wrinkle of his un-dwarf-like nose. "My clothes still stink of it."

"Well, you can just destroy them when we get out of here," assured Bilbo when he saw the King glaring at his youngest nephew. The hobbit didn't like it when Thorin berated the boys for telling the truth, even if his kingly self didn't want to hear it. "I'm sure Balin's caught quite a few traitors in the other tunnels for you to...play with. Or destroy. And I'm sure the other parents will be quite eager to help out, too."

"And yourself?"

"Ugh, I think I'll leave that kind of...thing to you and the dwarves," stuttered Bilbo, a series of unpleasant images flashing through his mind. "We hobbits aren't exactly fond of such...acts or punishments. Not very...hobbit-y, you could say."

The King shrugged. "More fun for me, then."

"You can make some of those tasty pumpkin cupcakes while we're ripping them limb from limb," cackled Dwalin. "Torture's a tiring business, my hobbit-y friend. The cupcakes will be essential to productivity."

"Uh oh, Dwalin's using big words," snickered Nori. "He must be itching to skin himself a couple of traitors."

"Oh, I'll be skinning a special part of them alright," whispered Dwalin, his voice laced with barely repressed aggression. "We don't have enough children as it is, and then to go and attack six of them? Bastards deserve my knife."