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Thorin was watching as most of the company said goodbye to their burglar, hobbit, friend, outside at the gate. Thorin himself stood on one of the few balconies the country had, this one connected to the royal offices.
“Why aren’t you down there saying goodbye?” Dwalin’s voice came from behind him. Thorin only grunted in response. “You should tell him you don’t want him to leave.” The other pushed, knowing his friend´s thoughts.
“I can’t do that.” Thorin’s voice was raspy and full of emotions. “We said goodbye earlier.” He let out a heavy sigh.
“I take that to mean that you haven’t told him how you feel.” Now Balin had joined the conversation.
“So much for having privacy.” Thorin muttered under his breath. “I cannot keep him here. He needs to go be with his family.”
“You could be his family.” Balin suggested and got a scoff in response.
“We are his family, he’s said so.” Dwalin added.
“It matters not. No matter how he feels, what he needs now is to go back, go home.” He turned from the view of Bilbo exiting the kingdom through the gate, heading towards Gandalf and the waiting pony. “And those are his words, not mine.” With that he left the room.
Ever since Bilbo Baggins had left the kingdom, headed to his ever so green Shire, the skies had been stormy and grey. The mumblings in the halls of Erebor was that the sky mirrored the temper of their king. For months now, he had been brooding whenever anyone had seen him. Although not many knew the true reason for his poor mood, the whispers about the king’s consort being gone was not far from what the company considered the truth. The rest of the dwarves had seen the growing feelings, the sparks between the two of them for a long time before Bilbo left.
“Hey Ori.” Kili was the one to ask questions, as he often were. “Do you actually know why Bilbo left? Thorin refuses to even talk about him, only standing around on the balcony, staring off into the distance.”
“Oh, he mentioned something about some family of his dying. He needed to help sort all their things out.” Ori sighed as he remembered the vague information Bilbo had given.
“Hm, so there is a chance he’ll come back?” Kili didn’t expect a response, and he got none,
--
Thorin looked at fire lit in front of him. The chair was plush underneath him. He recalled the days he had been a child in here, when the chambers were his parents, remembered climbing into the chair and listening to the stories of his people, the people he’d sworn to protect. The sky was dark outside, the moon bright. He knew since he’d been standing outside just a little while ago, looking towards the forest, checking the road for the figure he hadn’t had he strength to watch ride away. Another sigh left him as he thought back to that day, when Bilbo had told him of his plans to leave. His heart squeezed as he reminded himself of how he knew he couldn’t stop him, he had never had the right to stop him. Thus, he would stay here, under his mountain, in his kingdom and wait. Wait until some news from the Shire might come, or maybe even the Hobbit himself. He shut his eyes and saw the face of Bilbo, his hobbit, his love, as if he was still there.
“Are you sitting here alone again?” It was Fili who interrupted his solitude today. It would seem as if his friends had a schedule made up as to see which one of them would force him to be… not alone every evening.
“Good evening Fili.” Thorin said, not answering the obvious question. They sat in silence for a while.
“If you are this upset about it, why did you let him leave in the first place?” Fili said suddenly. And alas, Thorin thought, the patience of those around him had started to wane. “It’s been eight months already.”
“He had to leave.” Thorin said. “And we both know I have to stay here. This is my place.”
“You let him go without telling you anything else?”
“No.” Thorin shook his head. “I know where he has gone. I know why. I know that he is never truly gone.” He let out a humorless laugh. “I will stay here, waiting for him, even if chance that he’ll show up one day are slim.” Fili looked at his uncle with sadness in his eyes, but he made no further comment.
--
“Thorin.” Thorin turned at the words he knew came from the hobbit he’d grown so fond off.
“Bilbo.” He said in reply. “What brings me the pleasure?” It was the middle of the morning, and Bilbo never showed up to interrupt Thorin, he knew the king had many obligations.
“I have some… news.” Bilbo lifted his right hand a little, and Thorin noticed a letter in his hand. Dread struck him. He searched the hobbit’s face again, taking in the sadness it bore. He knew whatever news Bilbo brought, they could not be good. He gestured to the chairs in front of the fireplace. Bilbo swallowed a little as he sat down, clearing his throat as he shifted.
“What news do you bring?” Thorin struggled to keep his voice steady, but a little shake in his tone was noticeable to himself.
“I received a letter from one of my cousins.” Bilbo took the letter in both his hand again, looking down at it. “News from the Shire, about my family.” Thorin leaned forward a little, gesturing for him to continue when he looked up briefly. “My cousin has been in an accident. He didn’t make it.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” These kinds of conversations had never been Thorin’s cup of tea, he had never been good at feelings and the like.
“His wife died too. They have a child.” Bilbo looked up, meeting the blue eyes of the king and Thorin could see the tears threatening to fall.
“You will need to go back to the Shire.” Thorin said. Bilbo nodded.
“I… I cannot… I do not know how long I will be gone. All the letter says is that… there are some trouble with the will of Drogo and…” He trailed off, sniffling.
“Of course, you have to go. Go and stay for however long you need.” Thorin moved closer, gathering Bilbo’s hands in his. “Take whatever you need for the journey.”
“Gandalf is coming tomorrow, he’ll travel with me.” Another shaky sigh, the tears still near for him. “I wouldn’t leave if I didn’t—”
“I know.” Thorin cut in. “I understand that you need to do everything you can for your family. Be there for them, help young Frodo heal. You’ve been here far longer than anyone of us thought when we set out.”
Bilbo let out a small, wet laugh. “There were many times I thought I would leave before we came here.”
“I know.” Thorin squeezed his hand in comfort. “And I am forever grateful that you stayed, that you helped us get here. That you didn’t run when I almost—” He cut himself off, looked to the side. The memory of his own madness was painful.
“By then I could not leave you to try to survive alone.” Bilbo smiled, but the tears had started to fall. “I will miss you Thorin Oakenshield.”
“And I you Bilbo Baggins.” Thorin smiles back, the same sadness across his face.
“I will always remember you, no matter what happens, no matter where I end up.”
“And you will always be welcome here.” Thorin added. “You will forever be a part of this company, and a hero who helped us reclaim our country. The person who saved my life on the battlefield. But most of all, you will forever be my friend.”
“And you mine.” They looked at each other for a while. “Good bye Thorin.”
“Good bye. Safe travels Mister Baggins.” Their hands released each other’s and Bilbo stood, leaving the room and dwarf behind him.
--
Four years to the day since Thorin had said his bittersweet goodbye to Bilbo, he still spent many days watching the land from his balcony, but the nights had grown less frequent over the years. The kingdom he ruled over was ever so lively, trade was picking up as the mines had returned to full capacity when the people had returned to Erebor. Thorin was ever busy with the obligations as the king, even as he had more help now that Fili was being taught his future obligations and his sister Dis had come to join them. Ah, his sister’s arrival had been a bittersweet affair. She had never been a supporter of the mission to reclaim Erebor, hadn’t felt any connection to the mountain and had never been blind to the dangers of the quest. She was also the person who could read Thorin the best, and one look had told everything she needed to know.
“Thorin.” She had cornered him the first night she spent in the mountain.
“Dis.” He acknowledged his sister, but was vary. She had held her tongue during the dinner, but he was no fool, he knew it was due to her knowing better than to discuss personal things in public. “What do you wish to speak to my about?” He better bite the bullet.
“My sons have been sending me messages.” She started, sitting down. “They’ve told me about almost everything, but they failed to mention the fact that their uncle is miserable.” Thorin put his head in his hands, rubbing his face.
“Maybe they do not want to speak about what is not their business.”
“Don’t give me that brother. I can tell what’s wrong from seeing your face. Don’t you forget that I am your sister.”
“Oh, I would never, I could never forget, since you seem to remind me ever so often.”
“Thorin.” She stared him down. “Who are you in love with and why has the notion made you this sad?” She continued when he did no answer her. “Do you want me to just guess?”
“No.” He sighed. “But it doesn’t matter, they are no longer here.”
“Oh brother.” She stood up and pulled him into a hug. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. You couldn’t have known.”
Dis showed clearly to her brother that she felt for him, but it didn’t make things easier for Thorin. In fact, her sorrowful looks and the way she tried to pull attention from him seemed to only make it worse for him. It served as a constant reminder of what he had lost, bringing Bilbo to the forefront of his mind as often as it had the first year. The company noticed the difference and started up with their plans to make sure he was never alone in the evenings again, a habit they had quit long ago.
“What has happened?” This time it was Nori who asked the questions. “Why are we back to this again? Did you hear from him?” There was no need to specify who was meant. There was no real need for any of them to talk to Thorin in the evening at all, they had learned to be there for their friend without words.
“No.” Thorin said. “Dis…”
“She needs to stop running her mouth.” Nori scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“Mind how you talk about my sister.”
“She may be your sister, and you may be the king under the mountain, but she still needs to learn not to come here and dig up the past.”
“She does not know—”
“She should understand it.” Nori’s voice was harsh. “I will talk to her about it.”
“Nori, please do not.” Thorin knew that his plead fell on death ears though.
Nori made things even worse, Thorin thought as he listened to his sister chew him out because she had gotten to hear the harsh words from Nori.
“Who is he to tell me to not worry about you?” She ranted. “What right does he have to complain about me caring about my brother?”
“He only means well.” Thorin said. “He is my friend and… well, he likes to speak his mind. I asked him not to—”
“You knew about it? You knew he would come to me and throw all these accusations—”
“Dis.” Thorin put on his authoritative voice. “Please do not make this any harder than it needs to be.” She opened her mouth to protest. “I know you mean well, but I was doing fine before you came here and started digging up the past.”
“I only want to help you. All I want is for you to be happy.”
“I know.” He smiled at her. “But I know what makes me happy, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Okay.” She deflated a little, but said nothing more, instead meeting him in a hug.
--
And so, four years total had passed since Bilbo left. The landscape had changed. The forest was now green, no longer the dull brown. It looked healthy again. The lake was void of a town on top of it, the villagers of Lake town never went to rebuild it, instead focusing on Dale. The town had grown, the fields around it used to grow food and the waters used to fish. Trade with Dale and other places was ever on the rise. As king Thorin was pleased, his people were pleased and making the mountain ever more prosperous. As a dwarf he still carried the hobbit-shaped hole in his heart, and it reminded him of the one thing he wanted more than ever that he had lost. The story about the hobbit who had helped reclaim Erebor was being told around the kingdom, but he had no interest in talking about it. He had no interest in hearing about him at all, he saw enough of him in his dreams. Some days he thought he could hear his voice in the halls. He still thought he would go insane some of those days and maybe this was as good as it would get.
Thorin? the soft voice of the hobbit he’d been speaking about sound as if it came from behind him. He didn’t turn to look. Too many times had he looked and no one had been there. Instead he shut his eyes and prayed to Mahal to give him strength, to guide him in this. To sway away the madness once again, only this was a different kind of madness, far from the gold sickness he’d once had. This had to be worse.
Thorin. There it was again, only a little louder, like Bilbo was standing closer to him. He sighed again and looked at the land below, trying to focus on the dwarves patrolling the gate. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched though so he turned around only to freeze to the ground. He blinked.
“Mahal, I have truly gone insane now.” He muttered. There in front of him was what looked like Bilbo Baggins, the burglar, his hobbit. He closed his eyes, a way to force the tears not to form. He was being punished, he knew it, punished for trying to kill the love of his life, his second half. He could feel that the breath he let out was shaky, and startled when hand touched his face.
“You are not insane, Thorin Oakenshield.” His eyes flew open. There, with hands on his face stood the hobbit, still. And he seemed to real, his hand felt real and so did the breath, the air that touched his face when he spoke.
“Bilbo, please.” He pleaded without knowing what his was pleading for.
“You are not insane Thorin.”
“I tried to throw you off—” He shut his eyes, it was too painful to speak out loud. “I almost killed you.”
“You were sick, and yes, you weren’t yourself, but you are not insane.”
“I keep hearing you when you aren’t here.” He protested. “And now I’m seeing you, feeling you and it’s not true.”
“Thorin.” Bilbo swept his thumbs over Thorin’s cheeks. “I’m here. I’m back.” Thorin lifted his hand to take Bilbo’s.
“You’re real?” The words came out as a broke whisper.
“I am.” Bilbo nodded and both of them smiled, smiles filled with sadness. “I’m sorry I took so long. I didn’t mean to be away for years, but… it took a few years to complete the adoption process.”
“Adoption?”
“Yes. Of Frodo. My nephew.”
“You adopted him? And then…?”
“Oh, he’s in the kitchens. A young hobbit needs to eat, and food isn’t plentiful on the road even when it isn’t scarce.”
“You’re back.” Thorin said. “You’ve come back here, to Erebor.”
“Yes.” Bilbo smile turned sunnier. “I have come back, and I still plan to stay.”
“Why? What would a hobbit… why would a hobbit wish to live here, in the stone?”
“Because this is where you are Thorin.” Thorin blinked in surprise at the words. “You are here and you are my home.” Bilbo took a step back, lacing his fingers together, his shoulders moving up to his ears. The sure signs of him becoming nervous and uncomfortable. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to spring this on you, I have… it feels as if we’ve already had this conversation, because I have had it so many times in my own mind…” He cleared his voice. “I wanted to tell you that—”
“I love you Bilbo Baggins.” Thorin interrupted. “I wish I’d had the chance to tell you before you left, but I am happy to have it now instead. It doesn’t matter if you do not feel the same way. Well it would make me sad, but—”
“I love you too.” Bilbo interrupted him instead. “I should have told you that I planned to come back before I left. I’m sorry about that. The boys wrote me letters asking, and I understand that it was hard on you to not know.”
“I could have never asked you to come back.” Thorin said. “I know what it is like to not have the home you wish to have. And I know what it is lose your family. I know the burden you felt when you got that letter, I understand your sorrow.”
“I know.” And then Bilbo stepped closer again. “May I kiss you now?”
“Of course.” Thorin answered, leaning in closer.
THE END