A Shot in the dark (Bagginshield)

Chapter Thirty-Five

Bard did not wait for Tauriel and Beorn to disappear before spinning around and hauling Bilbo off further into the forest. The Hobbit stumbled and nearly fell, but managed to catch himself at the last moment as he was dragged on by his wrist. Once he found his balance again, he dug his heels into the cold ground and tried to yank his captured wrist free from the Man.

"Bard, let go! We have to go after them before they're killed!" he protested as he tried to twist his hand free.

"So we can die as well?" the Man retorted, glancing briefly over his shoulder to give the Hobbit a scowl. "Is that what you want? For those creatures to kill us and get their hands on the ring?"

"No," he admitted, meeting the scowl with a glare of his own, "but I can't just allow my friends to run off to their deaths without at least trying to help them!"

"I don't like it either but we can't do anything for them right now," Bard pointed out without stopping. "Surviving this is the only option we have!"

He felt his heart sink at the Man's firm tone. "How can you leave them behind so easily?"

Bard suddenly stopped and released Bilbo's wrist. Before he could take off, the archer spun around and glared down at the Hobbit. "You think this is easy for me? Beorn and Tauriel are my friends too! It's killing me to walk away from them, but it's the only thing we can do!"

Bilbo bit his lower lip until it began to bleed. He knew Bard was right, he did, but that didn't make the situation any easier. He was leaving behind two friends to their possible deaths and the knowledge burned him from the inside out. He was doing the very thing that he had set out to prevent.

"Where do we go?" he wondered, glancing around the forest before meeting Bard's eyes again. "They can feel the ring. They'll follow us through Mirkwood and anywhere else we go."

"That's why we need to keep moving," the Man replied as he turned around and stalked off. "Maybe we can hide in Dol Guldur. The dark magic around that place might confuse them and throw them off our trail."

"Or lead them directly to us," he pointed out even as he followed his friend into the dark forest.

"If you have a better plan then feel free to say it. If not, shut up and stay close to me," Bard retorted sharply.

Bilbo sighed but said nothing more. He shuddered as behind them the shrieks of the Nazgûl continued to echo through the forest. Inside he prayed with every inch of his heart that somehow, someway, he would see his friends alive again.

If Dol Guldur had looked frightening at a distance, then it was positively petrifying up close. The moment he stepped onto the crumbling bridge, Bilbo felt a chill run down his back. Oddly enough, it was not the ruins or dark cloud that seemed to hover over the place that unnerved him as much as the eerie silence did. He had been in graveyards with more noise than Dol Guldur.

"I don't like this place," he informed Bard as the Man led him into the keep.

"Too bad," the archer replied without an ounce of sympathy in his tone. He didn't pause either as he walked further and further into the ruins. In hindsight, he realized that Bard, as a father, was probably quite used to whining and was now immune to it.

"How far in are we going?" he asked instead, deciding to change the topic.

Bard pointed to one of the still stable towers. "Up there. It will give me a better view of what's coming."

He glanced up to the roofless tower and wrinkled his nose. "I hope it doesn't snow again."

"Yes, freezing to death would certainly be a letdown after all of this," the Man agreed without pause. For that joke alone, Bilbo decided that Bard was forever his new best friend.