Chapter Text
Done shuffling Thorin slumped down next to Bilbo with hunched shoulders, or that was what a normal person would have done. The king somehow made it look majestic, but the linguist could see him turn around words in his head and set on to say something, only to stop at the least possible moment. There was nothing majestic about that and sighing the shorter decided to safe them both from sitting here awkwardly for longer than absolutely necessary.
“Thank you for saving Kíli back there.”
“It ... was my pleasure.”
“I highly doubt that, what’s with the lava and all, and don’t think I didn’t notice you got burned in the process, but anyway. Can I trust you to stick with our agreement?”
“I ... what?”
It was admittedly rather adorable to watch, except that Bilbo had no mind for that right now.
“Kíli. You promised to treat him like your own (kind of). The lad got nothing to do with our quarrel, so can I trust you to stay true to your word? It’s already hard enough to leave him, but so help me if you don’t treat him well, banishment or not, I will come back to kick your ass and this time there will not be any benevolent linguist to safe you.”
In reply Thorin grumbled something into his beard and, though he did catch a few words, Bilbo refused to acknowledge them without the proper context.
“What was that?”
“I said you’re not banished. You’re right. You did what you could to prevent a battle and risked your life to save Fíli. I overacted and I’m sorry. Please consider staying. It would mean a lot to me, all of us.”
“Ah ... and I assume that has nothing to do with your sister threatening you with painful things, does it?”
At least, Bilbo mused, Thorin had the decency to look ashamed. Oh, they were both at fault for this whole mess, but the linguist refused to feel sorry about it. He hadn’t been the one to almost strangle the other in a temper fit and it certainly wasn’t Thorin who felt uncomfortable pressure every time he swallowed and had to consume one of Oín’s disgusting but effective tonics to prevent swelling. It wasn’t Thorin who had gone from guilty fantasies about big hands to being wary of them while still having guilty fantasies, which was an altogether confusing experience and not helping in the least.
“Bilbo, I ...”
Hands. Hands on eye level. Bilbo had edged well out of reach before he even finished the thought and Thorin pulled back as if hit.
“You fear me.”
“You tried to kill me. I mean, I get it, really, you were scared for your nephew and your whole people. I like to think there is nothing I wouldn’t do for my boy, but I tried to help you and you tried to kill me and that ... that is not something a few words can just erase or make better, especially not if you don’t even mean them.”
“But I do. I am sorry. I should have listened to you; I should have never laid hand on you. You must hate me for that and you have all right to. You must hate the thought, yet I have to ask you to stay. You ... your skills are needed here. Our language is lost to us, our history is lost to us. My brother ... I gave up on ever having anything to remember him by and then you brought me his journal and it is already so much, but the chance to have his words once more ...”
“Kíli.”
“What?”
“You forgot to mention Kíli. You know I would do anything for him, everyone does, because I love him too much to pretend otherwise and people sure like to remind me” Bilbo sighed bitterly. He would not deny it; he would not feel bad for it. Kíli was all he had; of course he would carve to anything he thought would be best for the lad, but to always be reduced to that?
“I know, but it’s not my right to bring him into this, nor would it be fair of me. You are a great father and it honours you that you would make yourself miserable for his sake, but you are more than that and I hoped you would stay because you want to, not because you feel you must.”
“Is that why you bring up my talent with languages?”
Thorin groaned and rubbed his face in frustration.
“It is your right to refuse me forgiveness, but must you mock me? As king, yes, I would ask you to stay for your skills. As his mother’s brother I would see Fíli happy and his happiness is connected to Kíli’s and Kíli in turn would see you happy, as would I, for reasons entirely my own. You are brave and kind, but not happy, not up there, so I hoped ... I hoped for a chance to reconcile with you in time. Your ... actions gave me reason to hope there is a chance. You might call it something else, but the meaning of namim can’t have changed so much no matter time and distance.”
There was a lot Bilbo could have said to that. Accusations, mostly, demands to repeat that, even comments about rhetoric and the like, but all his words were gone, including the ones about the unfairness of Thorin talking him into speechlessness. The larger, on the other hand, seemed to have plenty words left and thoughts on what the smaller’s silence meant.
“Forgive me. The decision is yours, of course. I only meant to let you know there is a choice. You will always be welcome here if you want, but if you must, you are free to leave.”
Thorin got up and turned to leave and Bilbo ... well, Bilbo was still at a loss for words, so he choose the next best thing.
*~*~*~*~*
“So ... staying after all?” Bofur poked and Bilbo gave him a ridiculous wide grin that it made Kíli look shy in comparison.
“Right. I’ll just skip asking if ye’re sure. Truth be told, I considered it as well.”
“I’m sure you could.”
“Nah, we should be fine with that stuff” the geologist replied and glanced at the gold being carted into a large flying machine. He’d have to ask Nori, but surely that would be more than enough for all of them to pay bills and loan sharks, allow Bombur’s kids, Ori and Gloin’s lad a decent education and still have enough left for them all to take a break.
That was almost as good as never again having to fear Smaug or Azog at their doors whenever there was an insistent knock.
“What will you do now?”
“Who knows? Never went on an actual vacation. Might just come back one day.”
“That would be nice” Bilbo admitted honestly. “For some odd reason I’ve come to like the lot of you and I’d greatly enjoy seeing you again.”
“One day you will regret saying that” sing-songed Nori and sauntered past, no doubt to evaluate the gold.
“I already regret it with that one” the linguist deadpanned in good humour and Bofur laughed.
“But say, what did ya do with that king of yours?”
Bilbo chanced a look back to where he suspected Thorin was still mercilessly being teased by his sister, friend and nephew.
“I’m not one to kiss and tell, but I could definitely get used to ... to ...”
“To run around and openly stare at that gorgeous ass in public without fear? Yeah, that’s something most of us could get used to.”
Bilbo laughed, long and hard. Later he would get a lot of crushing hugs and good natured ribbing and Thorin would grump and all but fold over and around the smaller, nuzzling his hair but keeping his touch light and his hands away from Bilbo’s head. The open display of affection and considerate behaviour would lead to the linguist getting over his fears considerable fast, though that would be after he had walked in on Kíli and Fíli, but before the lads in turn walked in on him and Thorin and before he managed to teach the basics of their written language to those Ereborians gaining first rights to lessons (he did not want to know how they decided that). A few years later (more than one, but less than he had anticipated), Dori, Nori and Ori as well as Bofur, Bombur, Bifur and their whole families would come back to stay with greetings from Gloín and Oín, who rather wanted to stay topside, but that would be then. Now Bilbo had friends to bid (temporary) good bye to and remind them that they had to give Mister Grey a good kicking from him so the old fool would not get the idea it was alright to meddle with the lives of others just because this one time it kind of worked out in their favour. He would also be involved in arguments about important and not so important matters and clashes of tempers, but for now Bilbo Baggins allowed himself to just be truly happy about the way things were.
END