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“It will not be long now,” thought Bilbo, “before the goblins win the Gate, and we are all slaughtered or driven down and captured. Really it is enough to make one weep, after all one has gone through.” –The Clouds Burst
He had failed.
For all the best considerations Bilbo had had to give himself a chance of reprieve from the stifling mountain with the token that could've aided Lake-town and the elves in negotiating against the hard headed Thorin, the plan had backfired causing dire circumstances. War was at hand and there was no way against it.
He thought that he could prevent battle and conflict, but it had come nevertheless. He had offended Thorin and would never have his friendship ever again.
How could he have ever thought that his offer of the Arkenstone could make things better?
It had only made him a detestable opponent of Thorin and Company.
The scores of wargs, orcs and goblins had gathered, quickly accelerating the attack upon the Mountain, while dwarves, elves and men were quickly leaning in to defend and fight. Bilbo was scared. This was the end.
It’s going to be a bloodbath. Bilbo could only think of what a mess this has turned out to be. He stumbled as he tried to find a good place to hide. He had already put on his Ring, but it didn’t shield him against the awful sites of combat.
The goblins were charging on and sweeping through the elven flanks, while the dwarves were busy knocking down the beastly wargs. Even Gandalf was busy defending the Elven-King while they were battling three orcs at the same time. Bard stood along the dwarves defending the Mountain.
But the sky was getting lighter as if hope was near.
***Word count does NOT include the book quotes that bookend the ficlet.
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