(A/N) Well, I suppose I had better explain myself. When I say that this is "sort of" a continuation, I mean it's kind of like an alternate ending to my alternate ending story. I got some ideas whilst I was working on 'Just One Chance', and started thinking to myself, what if…and here we stand. For those of you who know that story, assume this one picks up after Kili confronts Thorin and you'll have a pretty good handle on this. You don't need to have read it to get what's going on, though. It just adds another layer of enjoyment.

I'm not entirely certain where this is going, so…let's see what kind of trouble we can get into…

Shield and Sword

Chapter 1: The Shield

Five days.

It had been five days since the Battle of Five Armies had ended…five days since Bilbo had fallen defending Thorin from Azog…five days since Fili's death…five days since Kili had broken.

Five days the little hobbit had struggled for life…and it was now starting to look like he might lose that fight. Bilbo shook with chills and fever, a sickness brought on by the poisoned arrow that had struck his collarbone. His breathing was growing more ragged with each hour that passed and Thorin was growing more and more anxious.

The dwarf king knelt with his chin resting in his clasped hands, elbows resting on Bilbo's cot, eyes never leaving the hobbit's haggard face. He had spent the last five days torn up with guilt and grief…grief for his nephews…and guilt for the way he'd treated Bilbo at their parting over the Arkenstone. At the thought that he might lose Bilbo, all greed for treasure and glory had gone from his heart. It had been replaced with a need for the halfling to live. If Bilbo did not survive…then something in him would die…as something in Kili had died at Fili's passing. He had become so desperate, he was actually praying. He didn't know whom to and he didn't care…so long as someone listened.

"Don't take him away from me," he pleaded. "I won't be able to live without him. Was it not enough to lose Fili for my sins? I would give up everything I have…in payment for his life."

Did I hear you right, Thorin, son of Thrain son of Thror? You would give up everything?

Thorin's head shot up at this, darting around the tent, searching for the source of that cold, haunted voice. But there was no one. For all he could see, he and Bilbo were still alone in the tent.

"Who's there?" he demanded, slowly rising to his feet. "Who calls?"

One who would answer your prayer, Oakenshield.

"Who are you?" he asked. He couldn't be certain, but it almost seemed to him that the lanterns had gone dim.

Does it matter? I have the power to save the one you love, and I will do it…but I must have fair value from you in return.

"What do you want?" Thorin asked. To his eyes, there still seemed to be no one else in the tent, but he felt besieged from all sides, just the same. Something was there with him.

You said it yourself. Everything you have. I would have your allegiance, King Under the Mountain.

"What do you mean?"

Give yourself over to me…Thorin Oakenshield…and I will save the life of your beloved. I will stop him from dying.

"How do you mean…give myself? What would you have me do?" the dwarf king pressed, wary of this dark voice, but ready to make a deal if it meant saving Bilbo.

Be my eyes and ears. Lend your resources to me when it proves necessary. Be mine…to summon and control.

"And may I…know the name of my new master?" Thorin asked, the last word nearly sticking in his mouth.

Ah…that is a difficult answer. I have had so many. I believe, at the moment, they call me the Necromancer.

Thorin felt his heart grow cold at this. The dark enemy…the one Gandalf feared.

Choose swiftly, son of Durin, for your little one will perish without my help. In fact…I may just take him from you.

At this, Thorin felt the horrific presence that dominated the tent direct itself. It moved, with a singular will, toward Bilbo.

"NO!" Thorin cried out, throwing himself back toward the hobbit, covering his fragile body with his own. He would gladly take death upon himself before he let it come to Bilbo.

"Thorin! Thorin!" Gandalf's voice shouted somewhere far off.

Time grows short, little king. The wizard approaches. Make your choice.

"Why me?"

Why? Because I recognize a desperate soul when I see one. I can see that you will give me anything to save his life…to keep him safe. Besides…I wish to see what you will do.

"Do?"

You are not like other dwarf lords. Your greed has left you utterly. I am curious to see what there is to be done with that.

As the Necromancer spoke to him, Thorin looked down at Bilbo's ashen face. Looking at him now, he could easily believe his greed had left him. Only, this thing he was about to do…for he would, there was no doubt in his heart…would the cost be worth it in the end?

"Thorin!"

Gandalf's voice was closer now.

CHOOSE, the voice thundered through him. As he looked up, a ring materialized from the darkness…a ring he recognized. A silver circle set with a blue stone: a treasure of his house…the ring that had been lost with his father.

"How?"

Now, Thorin Oakenshield! Take this tool and bind yourself to me…or lose the one thing you still care for.

"All right," Thorin finally declared, reaching out and taking the ring. As he did it, the stifling presence instantly vanished and Gandalf burst into the tent, staff lit and held high. When he saw only the dwarf and the hobbit, his eyes widened slightly in confusion.

"Is something the matter, master wizard?" the dwarf king asked, only half looking at him.

"I…I could have sworn I felt…"

"Felt what?"

"A dark presence," the wizard answered, a troubled look in his eyes. Then he noticed the way Thorin was crouched so protectively over Bilbo. "Thorin…what were you-"

"Thorin?"

Bilbo's small whisper was better than any shout for drawing the king's attention away from Gandalf. Looking down, he saw Bilbo's eyes blinking open and the color returning to his face. Barely taking the time to be careful of both their injuries, Thorin wrapped his arms around the halfling…his halfling.

"You came back," Thorin whispered, burying his face in Bilbo's mussed curls. "You came back to me."

"I could never…leave you," Bilbo said softly, returning the embrace as tightly as he could.

"Thorin hasn't left your side," Gandalf informed the hobbit, a fond smile starting to overtake the troubled expression. "I shall inform the others you are awake," he said as he headed out of the tent, but not before throwing one last odd glance at Thorin.

Maybe Thorin wouldn't have done what he did if he'd known…if he'd understood what the consequences might be…that his actions tonight would ultimately shake the very foundations of Middle Earth…

…but he couldn't have known any of that. Nothing else mattered right now, only his relief at having Bilbo in his arms once more. There would be time for the rest later. Time to grieve for Fili…time to re-establish his throne and his allies…time to show Bilbo the home he had known as a child and to rebuild it…to help Kili grieve…and to teach him how to be king…

…time to worry over the bargain that had been struck.

All of that was far away right now, though. Right now, all he wanted to do was rest here with Bilbo…to pretend that he hadn't just sold his soul for him and that they had only happiness to look forward to. For no matter what the consequences might be…no matter how history looked on him in the end…Thorin Oakenshield would never regret what he had done.

XxX

Fili was laid to rest deep beneath the mountain, the Arkenstone resting on his breast. Bard had tried to return the stone to Thorin, but he'd rejected the ancient treasure. He'd lost all desire for it after his nephew's death…and nearly losing Bilbo…so Thorin returned the Arkenstone to the earth in the arms of his beloved sister-son, a reminder to all future kings under the mountain of what the sin of greed can cost.

The funeral was well-attended by their allies who had survived the battle, and all of the companions spoke very highly of their fallen prince…all except Kili, who couldn't bring himself to utter even one word, so great was his sorrow.

Kili had never worn his hair in braids before today, but as he approached the stone coffin where his brother rested, Thorin saw a single braid trailing from behind his left ear. As Kili stood over Fili, struggling with his last goodbye, he leaned down to stroke his golden braids one last time. Then he bent over him and kissed him, whispering something as he did. His final gesture was one none of the dwarves had foreseen.

Seizing the single braid, Kili swiftly drew a dagger from his belt and severed it, kissing the braid before laying it with his brother. There were several murmurs from the assembled dwarves, but Kili paid them no mind as he walked away from the sarcophagus. He disappeared the moment the tomb was sealed.

"What does it mean?" Bilbo asked Thorin later that night when they were alone in the king's chamber. The company had been busy as bees struggling to make their mountain home livable again. Dain had leant many of his own people to the task, but the going was still slow. Thorin barely considered his quarters livable, but Bilbo, used to much simpler lodgings, was perfectly comfortable.

"Hmm?" Thorin asked, glancing up from a parchment he was looking over.

"The braid…what Kili did earlier. The other dwarves seemed a bit bent out of shape over it. What does it mean?"

Thorin was silent for several minutes, mulling over his answer before coming to join Bilbo on the bed.

"The cutting of braids…is a symbol of loss…great loss. Many of us cut a few braids when we were driven from Erebor. But most commonly, as you saw today, it is done at the death of a loved one."

"Then what was all that whispering for?"

"I don't mean blood relatives when I say loved one," Thorin said, meeting the hobbit's inquisitive gaze with a hard one of his own.

"Oh…oh," Bilbo said softly, his eyes going wide with realization.

"At the death of a family member, you usually just unbraid your hair…and wear it unadorned as a sign of mourning. Braid cutting, though, is normally saved for your partner…your lover…although, it is not entirely unheard of for family members to partake in braid cutting…if they were very close."

"So…were…were Fili and Kili…?"

Thorin shook his head. "I don't know. I have no wish to know. My guilt in this matter is great enough without being the cause of such a breaking…especially when…you and I…"

Bilbo also shook his head, his expression saddened as he leaned across Thorin to kiss him. Briefly, Thorin allowed himself to lean into the embrace.

"It wasn't your fault, Thorin," Bilbo whispered soothingly against his lips. For a moment, the dwarf king drew back, his disagreement plain in his eyes. Rather than argue with his thief, though, he offered him a tired smile, reaching out to tangle his fingers in his soft hair…which had grown out a fair bit in the last year.

"You know…I would have given you mine."

"Given…?" Bilbo murmured, not quite comprehending.

"My braids," Thorin explained, allowing a silken strand of brown hair to slip through his grasp. "If you hadn't…woken up…I would have given them all to you…each one…to rest at your side forever…and gone braidless and unadorned ever after," he said, his hand slipping down from Bilbo's hair to run along the line of his neck and onto his shoulder.

Bilbo wasn't sure if the tears he felt gathering in his eyes were of a joyful nature…at seeing the emotion in his king's eyes and hearing it in his voice…or if they were of pain…at the thought of not being with Thorin…of Thorin being without him. It was a thought he didn't much like to linger on, so he leaned a little further into Thorin's touch.

"That won't happen," Bilbo promised, his promise firm, though his voice trembled with desire as Thorin's hand trailed down his chest…stopping just above where he really wanted that hand to be.

"What won't happen?"

"We won't be apart…not ever," he said, taking Thorin's free hand in his. "We'll walk together from now on…and when the time comes, we'll lay down…side by side…and die together."

"You would…you would stay by my side?" Thorin whispered, his voice nearly breathless as he watched his lover raise the hand he held up to his heart, holding it there.

"Always. It nearly killed me…when you sent me away…that day at the gate. I would not be parted from you…Thorin Oakenshield."

"Nor I from you, Bilbo Baggins," Thorin said, finally drawing the halfling in for another kiss…this one deeper…searching…baring. Bilbo couldn't help the tiny cry that escaped his mouth when Thorin moved from his lips down to his neck. Then, suddenly, Thorin flipped him and Bilbo found himself pinned to the bed, staring up into the dwarf's eyes…eyes that were painted with want…want almost beyond imagining…and it was directed at him. Slowly, Thorin lowered his body to his, heat already pressing between them as he brushed his lips against a delicate, pointed ear.

"Is this what you want, my thief?" he whispered against him, tongue darting out to steal another small taste of him. "If it is not, tell me now…or I will not be able to stop myself."

"Oh…hngh…Thorin…" Bilbo groaned, bucking his hips lightly up against the dwarf king's, causing him to cry out. "It's all I want."

"Then you shall have it," Thorin said, gently but insistently pressing a knee between Bilbo's legs. The hobbit gasped, his head falling back against the pillow as he writhed in pleasure.

Thorin's movements were slow and gentle, much more so than was typical for him, but they were both still recovering from injuries. As they moved together, the dwarf lord showed Bilbo a side of himself that rarely ever saw the light of day, even with other lovers he'd had; he showed him tenderness…care…an almost reverent quality as his hands and mouth worshipped him. After all, the king reminded him with every burning caress and gentle thrust…they had nearly lost this…lost each other. They knew they would never waste another opportunity to tell each other how much they were loved…how they wanted and needed each other…and when they lay together afterward, holding each other and sharing sweet kisses, they made each other a promise.

"For all our life…and until death…together shall we be," Thorin said softly, resting his forehead against Bilbo's.

"From now…until the ending of eternity," Bilbo whispered back, pressing a kiss to the dwarf's lips. It was their marriage vow to each other. There would be something more official later on, for everyone to witness, but this was the promise they made to each other…mindless of everything else.

It wasn't until Bilbo had fallen asleep in his arms that Thorin was given a rather unpleasant reminder of what it was that had bought him this happiness, this time to make this promise.

It started as an itching at the back of his neck, then gradually spread until it was a horrible burning pain that consumed his entire head. Unable to take it anymore, Thorin disentangled himself from the hobbit and went to his discarded clothing, retrieving the ring from his cloak and placing it on his finger.

Better. Perhaps you'll think twice before ignoring me again, little king.

"Ignoring you?" Thorin muttered as he moved out into the living area of their quarters, not wanting to wake Bilbo. "Can't you just speak to me as you like?"

Unfortunately, no. I have not that kind of power…yet, the Necromancer said, sounding slightly irked.

"Then how did you before?"

You prayed, Thorin. You wished for a miracle. I was the only god who deigned to answer you. That was how I connected to you before. But your desperation has gone now. Our only link is this Ring of Power.

"How came you by this?" Thorin asked as he paced the living area, staring at the ring. He knew exactly what it was, of course. Durin's Ring. Tradition held it had come from the elven smiths of old, but Gandalf and Elrond had told him the truth of its making. The old wizard had told him the ring was better lost with his father. But if this ring had last been with his father, then…

I came by it…from your father.

"What happened to him?!" Thorin demanded, fighting to keep his voice down, though he could feel the anger rising in his chest.

Just what will you do if Thrain, son of Thror died in my care? Will you betray me, my puppet? I would remind you I hold the halfling's life in my hands. I gave him life…and I can take it away. So long as you are near him, I possess you both…and I know you cannot bear to be without him. So don't you ever try to run…and don't you ever betray me…or I will take your love away from you.

Growling in helpless frustration, Thorin ultimately sank to his knees, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He truly had sold his soul, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was trapped…like a fly in a web.

XxX

(A/N) So…this doin' anything for y'all?