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Of course she waited with the others, with her people, she watched the ship sail away from the shore carrying fourteen youths to their certain doom as she always had. Every seven years Belladonna had to retain her façade of unwavering strength as she stood amongst the weeping parents of those taken. Each time it became more difficult, but it took all of her courage, all of her mettle to remain in this instance. Her only son was aboard that ship, this time she felt entirely alone in her grief with no one at her side to provide a solid foundation.
Belladonna's duties as Queen of Athens didn't stop, however, so she couldn't stop, she was grateful for the routine. The looks of sympathy thrown her way almost became too much, the empty chair beside her own as Belladonna ate her evening meals moved her to tears more than once, but worst of all was the silence. Belladonna would often sit up with Bilbo, well into the night, and talk of many things over a cup of wine.
Now she sat alone in a dimmed room with a book open on her lap, a forgotten hope of distraction, as she gazed longingly out of the window. Sometimes she watched the sea as it reflected a bright moon, other times she would search the stars and pray for an answer, for some insight, for forgiveness. She never found any.
Weeks passed, every day was a challenge, if her people noticed any change, they never spoke of it, or if they did, never while she could hear. Belladonna knew they blamed her, the parents of the lost children probably cursed her name in the dark of night, but what choice did she have. In the face of invasion from the Cretans all those years before, what else could she have done. The price was small, but it was still too much.
It was still early in the day when the echoes of the signal horn drifted through her window. It was a sound Belladonna had been waiting for, yet it brought a fresh tide of apprehension. She rose from her chair and walked slowly to the window that looked out over the bay, a large crowd had already gathered on the beach, they emitted a strange energy and she could already tell something was different.
With not a care for her appearance, Belladonna hurried out of her room and through the palace, she felt as if she could dare to hope. Her bare feet welcomed the change from polished stone, to soft trodden dirt to loose, warm sand as she stumbled to the beach and stood among the other. They barely glanced at her wild hair, her heaving chest or the strained yearning in her eyes.
It seemed like an age, the time between spotting the vessel and it finally mooring and dropping the gangplank, it took too long. Belladonna tried to assess the expressions of the deckhands, there was no tension, no deep sadness or lethargy to their movements as there usually was. When they called for the Queen of Athens to make herself known, it took a small shake from an advisor who had followed her to the beach for Belladonna to realise she still had a duty to fulfil. The advisor placed her crown, a small, bronze circlet, upon her head, and tamed her hair as much as possible in the circumstances. She straightened her back and cleared her expression, the Queen took a step forward and the crowd parted.
-
Bilbo flew into his mother's arms. He told himself he would be calm, collected, dignified in the face of reunion, but that all left him when he saw her. They clutched at each other, both laughing and crying, her fingers ran through his hair as she held him close. Belladonna pressed kisses to his forehead with quivering lips, even as the euphoria wore off, his mother refused to break physical contact with him, as if she was afraid this was all some dream. He looked around at the gathering of people, his people, and saw pure, unadulterated joy in the faces of everyone.
As he was bundled away from the shore and towards the palace with the rest of the group, Bilbo threw a look over his shoulder. Thorin stood slightly apart from everyone, his expression was unreadable, though his eyes never stopped moving, they observed everything, eventually they landed back on Bilbo. With a tilt of his head, Bilbo motioned for him to walk with them, though he waited to introduce him. He didn't want to take anything from this moment.
Belladonna finally let go of Bilbo's arm when they reached the palace, she stood atop the staircase that led up to the main doors and faced the gathering with tears rolling unchecked down her smiling face. Bilbo didn't go and stand next to her as he would have done in any other situation, instead he remained at Thorin's side in the crowd. He watched as his mother greeted each of the youths by name, embraced them in still shaking arms before she announced a feast of celebration.
The people of Athens dispersed slowly and Bilbo went up to embrace Belladonna once more, she drew back and cradled his face in both her hands. "I can't believe you came back." She said with a shaky voice.
Bilbo smiled back at her, beautiful as she always was, though he couldn't miss the tired look in her eyes. Of course she had worried, she always had. "There is someone I'd like you to meet." Bilbo turned and beckoned Thorin to stand with them. "This is Prince Thorin of Crete, the King has sent him to live with us, as a ward of sorts, to learn our ways and start new age of prosperity between our two kingdoms." It was almost a reflex now, after weeks together on the ship, Bilbo slipped a hand into one of Thorin's and squeezed.
-
Thorin was unable to look at her for too long. The Queen of Athens was beautiful beyond compare, but it was easy to notice the signs of stress, of loss and having to appear strong when all she wanted to do was crumble. He had seen it so often in his Grandfather. It seemed she couldn't hold back the joy she felt at reuniting with her son, even as she composed her face, her lips still smiled, no matter how slight it was.
He bowed. "Your Majesty," He intoned, trying to remember the correct formal greeting, "It is an honour to finally meet you, though it might never wash away the tragedy your people have seen, my Grandfather extends his deepest apologies and regret he has caused you."
"Prince Thorin," Her voice was hushed and he almost started when he felt a light touch under his chin. He raised his head to look at Belladonna, she still wore the stoic mask she had put on when Bilbo announced him, even the smile had fallen away now. "The anguish we feel for our lost children is beyond words and we shall remember them, even as we celebrate the safe return of this company. We will save this conversation for the morrow, I think. For now, enjoy all the comforts Athens has to offer, I will speak with my son."
Belladonna's tone wasn't entirely hostile, but Thorin knew when he had been dismissed. The Queen gave him leave to explore the palace and the city at his will, and so he did. He must have spent hours wandering the halls and strolling through various courtyards. This palace was so much smaller than the one he grew up in, but everything was new to his eyes. Thorin often paused to take a closer look at carvings and artwork that adorned the walls or to gently run his fingers through the stems of the plants that grew between the flagstones of the courtyards.
It was in one of those courtyards that Bilbo caught up with him. They walked a little further together, eventually they came to another yard, one with a bench that overlooked the harbour. They sat together, arms and thighs touching, fingers intertwined once again.
"So, what do you think?" Bilbo leaned his head against his shoulder, the bright sun made his hair shine like molten honey.
"It's more beautiful than I imagined." Thorin said and he smiled down at Bilbo. "I think I'll enjoy my time here, with you." With that, he placed a soft kiss upon Bilbo's waiting lips.