Chapter Text
The world was burning up. Smoke spewed around her and burning rocks fell from the sky. A ringing was in her ears. Lava ran down the mountain side just feet from her laying body. She couldn’t focus well anymore. The world was dark and dead but she felt lighter than she had in months or was it years?
Her hand fell to her slightly bulging stomach as tears welled up. It was gone. Both were destroyed and would never come haunt her and the ones she loved ever again. She could go home again.
Be gone. You’re banished Agrîfatkurûd!
No. Home, she couldn’t go home but she could go back to the Shire. If she had the food necessary and the ability to move. Tears slid from dull eyes. She had neither. They were going to die in Mordor.
Her hand clenched the worn tunic stretched over her heavy stomach. “I’m sorry.” She whispered through cracked lips. “I’m sorry.”
She was sorry for so many things. She was sorry that she gave the arkenstone to anyone. She was sorry she had gone back to her dwarves after doing so. She was sorry that she had nearly lost the baby in the first place. She was sorry that she had thought she had lost the baby. Most importantly, she was sorry that she had gone to Mordor pregnant. Billa wished she had realized the illness she was experiencing was from still, somehow, being pregnant after Thorin had thrown her down.
She would have hidden somewhere till the babe was born. Then Billa would have continued to Mordor to destroy the ring and the stone. That way she would have eaten properly. That way she wouldn’t be so terrifyingly small so far into her pregnancy. That way her baby would have survived.
The world darkened around her as she wept for her baby and her husband who had been trapped by gold. Billa sent out a last silent plea before the world faded to nothing. Thorin please be free of the stone and the gold. Please don’t hate me.