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Chapter Text

“They are taking us for fools” Thorin said in a low voice to the rest of his company. The madness of the gold shining through the deep blue of his eyes “This is a ruse” he hissed “a filthy lie” the words pressed out in a low growl. The king again regarded the two leaders at his gates “The Arkenstone is in the mountain, it is a trick!” he bellowed out. For this could not be, they had yet to find it, so there was no way the filthy elves had gotten their greedy hands on it.

“It's no trick” said a timid voice from behind Thorin. He turned to see Bilbo standing a few feet away. Bouncing on the balls of his toes, clenching his fists. Clearly nervous for something. “I was going to give it to you” his voice sturdy, “Many times I wanted too. but..” Bilbo's words trailed off at the end.
“But what? Thief” Thorin sneard at the burglar. Taking slow, measured steps towards the Hobbit. Bilbo felt Thorin's intense gaze on him. But he remembered what he'd said to Gandalf: I'm not afraid of Thorin.

So Bilbo stepped forward, gathering his might and convincing himself he was not afraid. He met Thorin's eyes, glowing with furious anger, resembling the blue fiers of an unforgiving fier “you are changed Thorin” He huffed a breath, watching as Thorin's face stoned to an unreadable expression “the dwarf i met” Bilbo paused, looking to the floor and forcing his breath to settle as the flood of memories from that night hit him. How Thorin's striking silhouette had been framed by the round door. Bright blue eyes twinkled from the light from the fire of the hearth, as he sang of his forefather treasures. Collecting himself he again looked for those blue fiers.
“The dwarf I met in Bag End would never have gone back on his word” Bilbo watched as Thorin's face shifted to something more stricken. Deep blue fiers quelching with a flood of water threatening to spill from hurting oceans.
“would never have doubted the loyalty of his kin” the last words Bilbo spoke with such vigor, the echo bounced off the empty cave walls of Erebor. Bilbo looked around at their companions, all too scared to move.

“Do not talk to me of loyalty” Thorin hissed at the Hobbit. As he looked to the others for support, none was given and Thorin felt lost. “throw him from the rampart!” he commanded them, none responded. All too shocked that he'd ever do anything like this “did you not hear me” bewildered, he looked around. Not able to fathom how they could all so blatantly betray their King. He whirled around, none to his aid “I will do it myself” Thorin said as he grabbed for Bilbo. But the other dwarfs tried to stop his grappling hands, nevertheless Thorin got a hold of Bilbo's collar “curse you!” Thorin spat in his face as he dangerously showed Bilbo up against the barrier of the high wall. Bilbo looked into those eyes, the deep blue that he had dreams of getting lost in. There was no Thorin there. Only hate and betrayal. Pure stench of the Dragon sickness.

Bilbo feels himself fall into darkness and wakes with a scream on his lips as he jolts up, sweat beading down his back. Oh, by life's good garden, it was just that dream, Bilbo thought to himself as he dragged away the covers and set his feet on the cold floor. He looked in the mirror opposite the bed, only to see the same image he'd come to such familiarity with over the last decade. His skin stretched thin over the bone, pale and without life. Heavy and dark bags under his eyes. His hair, tethered and pale. Overall Bilbo looked sickly, and not at all how a respectable hobbit should look.

Bilbo sighed as he walked over to the basin to splash some water in his face. Silly dream, why did he still linger on it. It had been 10 years since it happened, why could he not let it go. Just be over with it. Yes, there was a time where he had hated, even feared Thorin. But he'd gotten his wits about him now. He saw that the Thorin he'd met that day was not the same he'd met in Bag End. And not even close to the dwarf had fallen in love with. The stoic eyes that softened as they looked upon him. The warm touches Thorin had offered on cold nights while on the journey. No, those two were not the same. But wonder now, if they become one over the years? Or if the sickend king was all there was left. Well a hobbit shall not dwell on such thoughts.

— __ ** __—

The travels to the Blue mountains had been long, and the path seemed even longer back to Erebor. They had traveled wide and far for months to see this supposed “true heir” Witch had been none but a hoakse, spread only to seed unrest in the dwarven kingdoms. It was easily disputed with one look at the lads' ancestry. But nevertheless officials in the name of the King under the Lonley mountain had arrived and, well, disputed them. It had been a waste of travel in Noris minde. But Balin, ever the dutiful adviser, on the other hand saw it as good practice to get council members out there to show that the king was not all but wasted away.

For yes, over the last decade the king had fallen ill. Not from the feared dragon sickness that had taken him from them at the besting of the dragon beats Smaug. No, that had cleared after the battle. It was something different, something unknown, something new to even the mightiest heelers in all of dwarven kind. He was withering, fading away. Skin paling, body faltering. The Thorin that now sat on the throne was not the same that had set out to retake his homeland. It was but a shadow of his former might. If only they could find a way to help their King.

— __ ** __—

Bilbo was just mulling about his smile. The day was fresh with the smells of late spring dancing in the wind. The sun shines through the window and collord the kitchen in warm hues. Bilbo was standing over the fire and tending to afternoon tea. For even though he did not particularly look the part, he would still act the part of a respectable Hobbit. As he set the kettle down on the table and sat down, he felt a pang of loneliness. It often so happened, where he longed for his companions from the mountains. They had gone through so much, suffered so much together. And he'd just left them. No good byes. Nothing. He missed Bomburs imakulet cooking, Filli and Killis insistent goofery. Oris good hugs and Balins dearly needed advice. He missed them all so dearly.

He felt his face damp with silent tears “oh my, this is no good” Bilbo said in a low voice as he dabbed away the stray tears. He sighed a deep breath and picked up his fork to start eating. But as he was about to take the first bite he heard a knock on the door. He grumbled as he slammed the fork down and stood up. Who in grases good name would have the nerve to visit, unannounced, at this time of day. “We do not wish for any unannounced visitors” Bilbo loudly announced as he marched over to the door, and with a furey pulled opened the door to send the intruders away. Only to have the words falter on his mind. “oh by the good gardens”

Chapter Text

As Bilbo stood there frozen to the floor, disbelief coloring every inch on his face. He just could not believe who stood at his door. “Hello there lad” Balin said with a warm twinkle in his eyes. Bilbo, forgetting all about properties, flung his arms around the royal adviser, who slightly staggered at the sheer force of the impact.

“Oh Balin, how good it is to see you again” Bilbo piped out from within the gray beard of the old dwarf. “There, there boy” he said as he patted Bilbo's back. The hobbit let go, slightly damp in his eyes “and you too, Nori” He said as he turned to said dwarf and gave him just as big a hug. “Well don't just stand there, come in, come in” Bilbo joyfully waved them inside as he stepped aside to let the two dwarfs enter and close the door behind them. “I was just about to have some afternoon tea, I will whip up some for you two as well” he threw over his shoulder as he pitterred down the hallway to the kitchen.

Balin and Nori followed after and sat down at the ornate dining table in the middle of the big oval room. But Balin could not help but notice the state of Bilbo. It was not an unsightly state, no, not at all. Clad in a yellow waistcoat with beautiful golden embroidery, his shirt clean and neatly tucked into his newly pressed pants. But he was not the Bilbo they had collected from this very home all those years ago. No, he was but skin and bones. What had happened since they last saw each other?

“So what brings you two to Hobbiton?” Bilbo's question drew Balin out of his thoughts and he again looked at the hobbit. But the sight of Bilbo’s sunken eyes and hollow cheeks almost scared him. He cleared his throat to get a moment before he spoke.

“Well we were on a mission for Thorin in the Blue Mountains and thought to see what you'd been up to these past few years, since none of us ever really heard from you.”
As Balin spoke he saw the hobbit falter a little. “Well yes, there hasn't been much to convey to any of you” Bilbo spoke softly “not that i haven't missed all of you dearly” Bilbo quickly corrected himself.

They spent the rest of the day telling Bilbo all that had happened in Erebor since his departure. How Killi had started courting Tauriel, Dwalin and Oris secret romance, that in reality everyone knew of. How the rebuilding of Erebor had taken greater efforts than estimated, but came along wonderfully.

They continued eating food and reminiscing about their adventure. But as time passed, so did the evening. And when night came to draw them to a close, Bilbo graciously offered the rooms in his home for them “oh we greatly appreciate it, my friend. But we need to depart at first light and would not wish to be of intrusion” Bilbo stammered and tried to almost force them to stay. But somehow Balin managed to convince him it was best for them to stay at the inn.

As Nori said his final goodbye to Bilbo and the door closed behind him, he turned to Balin and gave him a laden look. Something here was amis. “Did you see the state of him” Nori hissed intently at Balin “yes, yes now lower your voice, I have my theories and we'll discuss them at the inn” Balin shushed the spymaster and stoutly set off for the inn.

“So wha’ ya mighty theory?” Nori regarded the adviser as he sat his sack down by the bed. Balin turned to Nori, his voice solemn “my theories stem from legends from before our time” Nori looked at him, bewilderment coloring his face “legends? Yer seriously basin’ this off legends?” Nori shook his head, seeing as the adviser knew things he didn't “alright, let's ‘ear” Balin nodded shortly and sat down on his bed, breathing deep and started his telling

“Long ago, in the time of Durin the first. There were tales of certain dwarves experiencing something they called ‘the One’. A soul separated in two at their creation. Possessing two different persons. Soulmates you might say.
As the two grew they'd feel a pull to one another in the goal of sowing together the separated soul. They'd flourish, life growing slightly longer than natural, and they'd die together in each other's arms. Forever encircled in ever growing love. And said it was, that on a grave where two soles were forever connected as one, there would spark immaculate life. Trees bigger than you could ever imagine. Flowers more vibrant than the clearest of gems. But” He looked to Nori, a solemn light ghosting his eyes “If these two were to be separated after finding each other, they would fall greatly ill. Their faces grew pale, skin stretching bone, hair faltering, minds not seeming their own at times. No cure ever healing them and eventually take them away from us, if they never reunited or healed the bond. Even worse if they separated with ill sorrows for one another in their hearts”

Balin watched as realization struck the spymaster. “He grew ill after the battl’, I thought it was the wounds” Nori slowly said to himself, staring at the floor. Seemingly in his own thoughts “If my theory is correct, we need to bring them together and that sooner rather than later” Nori looked up at him, disbelief painting his features “And ‘ow in the world's wide gape d’ ye ‘spouse we do that. The man hardly eve’ leaves his chambers” Balin looked to his friends, a grin plastered on his face “that my friend, you leave to me, I have a plan”

— __ ** __—

As Balin stood in front of the doors to the king's chambers, he felt himself a tad bit nervous. He was about to propose something he knew with certainty the king would not like. But it was for the best that he did this. Balin, gathering all his might and authority knocked on the door.
“Enter” rang from the other side, and with a settling breath he entered the room

“Ah, Balin, welcome back. Hope the journey was pleasant” Thorin looked up from his papers and greeted his old friend from behind his ornate granite desk.
“Yes, it was. Many thank you, your majesty” The adviser gave a curt nod in response “well i am actually returning with some less than great news from Ered Luin”

Thorin put down the contract he was currently reading through, to have his full attention on his closest adviser and councilman “well what do you bring” Thorin asked him with a quizzical look. Balin walked further into the room taking a seat opposite Thorin. The thought of being dishonest with his king made sweat bead at his brow. Balin averted his gaze to settle his emotions before regarding the king. “Well you see, try as we might. The dwarrows of Ered Luin believe you to be unfit to rule”

“what?” Thorin barked out, furrowing his brow. “what do you mean unfit”

Thorin seems ready to pouns, he sighed to himself “well you see, you haven't exactly been easily accessible over the last ten years. Your people rarely see you and you hardly leave your chambers” Balin did not like the look in Thorin's eyes “so what do you suppose I do with this” Thorin growled as he regarded his adviser with thin eyes.

“The dwarrows of Ered Luin demand a personal visit from the majesty to settle the matter” He said in one breath, as if he could not rid himself of the words quickly enough. Balin could see the ire just beneath the surface of Thorin's expresion
“and you expect me to travel to Ered Luin when I can hardly travel to my own office” the pure anger that filtered through Thorin's voice reminded Balin of the retaking so, so many years ago. Balin swallowed that thought as quickly as it had come.

“If I may, I already took the liberty to plan out the whole route, with comfort in mind” Thorin only grunted a response, leaning back in his chair. Which Balin took as a go ahead to deliver his planned route.
“It would be you, me, Dwalin and Nori setting out first, the rest of the company setting out a few months later. The plan is to have one week rest’s in Berrons hall, Rivendale and Bree” Balin pointed to the map on the wall as well as marked out the route, Thorin nodding along “And with plans of meeting up with them after a 8 weeks rest in Hobbiton” At the mentioning of Hobbiton Thorin sat up with a rush “why Hobbiton, why not Bree?” he asked in much hurry, shook and slight panic showing in his expression.

“Well, its were we could find most comfortable lodging for such a long time” Balin explained with a sheepish expression “and where is this lodging then” Thorin asked suspiciously “well in a smiale of course” Balin answers with a vide smile “Ballin no, we haven't talked for years for a reason” Thorin sighed as he dug the balls of his palms into his eyes “oh com now laddie, we all miss him and i know for a certain you do too”

“Anyhow, arrangements are already made, people are expecting us, we leave in a week's time” Balin said as he stood, gathering his documents. Thorin looked up at him, not beliveíng the nerve of Balin at times “so you were just here to inform me of the journey” voice tired and weary “yepp” Balin said and clapped his hands.

Chapter Text

The road to the Shier was rather uneventful. It was lovely to travel this time of year. Even though Thorin could not wait to leave Rivendell. The elves were all too proper and pomper for his taste, although they did have meat this time around. Beron was not too pleased to have them there either, but did appreciate the help Nori and Dwalin offered around the stead. All in all, a nice journey, nothing to complain about.

But as they drew closer and closer to The Shire and subsequently Hobbiton, Thorin could not help but feel this was a bad idea. None of them had talked to or heard from the hobbit in years. How could they all of a sudden barge in and expect hospitality for eight weeks. Balin had surely gone absolutely mad.

But they had left Bree 8 days ago and were now only half a day's ride away. There was no turning back now. But Thorin still did not feel too hopeful of their soon-to-be-maybe host.

“Balin, are you sure about this?” He asked as he steard his pony around a bend in the road.

“about what” Balin grunted, still continuing to scover the papers he was reading.

“About the bloody hosting situation” He hissed at the old dwarf.

“Oh don't worry too much about it laddie, we talked with him last we were here, me and Nori” the adviser gestured his hand towards Nori, still not taking his eyes from the papers. Which caused Thorin great frustration.

So they rode until they entered the streets of Hobbiton and up to the hill where a neatly looked after flower garden linde the edges of a gravel path. At the path's end stood a quaint round door with a brass knob in the middle. Balin motioned for them to dismount.

As they walked up to the door, Balin looked over at Thorin, who looked paler than usual, in understanding and muttering in khuzdul “aktibi zûr sakhafi, nê akhshum(I Know how you feel, don't worry)”

Thorin furrowed his brow. How could the old lulkh(idiot) know anything about how he feels? He is nothing more than his advisor. Annoying at points satthiye mushug(he drives me crazy) with all the ‘old wisdom’. As Thorin's inner monologue went on and on about Balin, the door opened. And he was frozen in his thoughts and trek.

There framed by the round door, glistening in the autumn sun, were golden glowing curls, framing a wide grin “My friends” Bilbo exclaimed as he opened the door wide and his arms wider. He looked over the 4 dwarfs in front of him. But as his gaze met with Thorins, Bilbo's smile faltered a little. Thorin swallowed thickly. He had never believed he'd get to see those mesmerizing hazel eyes ever again. They just stood there for a second, staring. Both infatuated with one another. Thorin felt all of a sudden this light washing over him. Like somewhere deep within his heart and soul something was starting to heal and mend itself.

Balin, looking from one to the other, cleared his throat. Seemingly snapping at least Bilbo out of wherever he was at the moment. “oh, yes yes, do come in” he said as he stepped aside for them to enter. The dwarfs gladly did so, only Thorin seemed to lag behind a little before Nori gave him a little show to the shoulder. Thorin snapped his gaze to the spymaster before hesitantly following after them. Bilbo gladly took the cloaks of his visitors to hang them up on the hooks in the hallway. So he handed Bilbo his cloak with a sheepish smile. Not daring to look him in the eye.

Bilbo steered them towards the back of the smial, where he showed them to rooms where they could lay down their pacs. Thankfully, Thorin had gotten a room for himself. As they walked, Thorin looked around. He'd never dreamed of getting to see this place ever again, let alone be invited in. Frankly, he never dared dream of seeing Bilbo again, not after how he treated the poor hobbit the last time they saw each other.

After they had gotten somewhat situated in their respective rooms, they all gathered in the dining room where Bilbo, unsurprisingly, had prepared a magnificent feast for them.

“oh how lovely” said Balin as he sat down, and they all dug in. The way only dwarfs know how. Thorin, unfortunately, had been seated besides Bilbo. And this proved a great challenge for the king. As he could not stop stealing shy glances at Bilbo's captivating features, the gleam in his eyes as all those golden curls bounced around as he shook his head, a grin plastered on his face.

Thorin did not catch a word of what was being said around the table, nor did he care too much. Not before the tales of the retaking of Erebor started circulating. It was as if Thorin was not there, as his comrades talked about those days “The effort you put in, Bilbo, simply immaculate” praised Balin. “aye” Dwalin voiced in agreement with his brother “the way ye stood up t’ ‘im, when he was at his worst, thought we'd lose ye i thought”

‘At his worst’ …that day. The day he'd lost his fight against the madness and almost killed his one true love… his soulmate… could he even call Bilbo that? after what he'd said, after what he'd done? He still saw the pure terror in the hazel eyes as he pushed the small and frail body over the broken ruins of the wall. Feel him squirming under the weight of his body. Trying so hard to get away, get to safety. How the sickness in his mind had made visions of the small body falling, a horrid scream still etched on his face as he fell down into the void below. How his mind took joy in the dreams of hurting his hobbit.

Thorin felt a soft warmth on his forearm that pulled him back. He looked down and followed the hand to its owner “are you alright Thorin?” Bilbo asked, concern lacing his words “you seem a bit out of sorts” there they were, those hazel eyes that he'd just seen filled with such horror at his own doing. But now they were filled with concern and worry for him. Thorin could not bear it.

“uhm.. yes..” He felt his face starting to heat and sweat beading at his brow. Thorin quickly downed the last of his wine to try and hide it. He felt his heart start to beat like a terrified rabbit, the air was getting heavy and it was all of a sudden difficult to breathe. Thorin stood, stumbling a little, he felt so dizzy

“I think i'll retire for the evening” his voice shook as he spoke and started for the door.

“Are you sure?” Bilbo asked as he stood up trying to stop Thorin “you've barely eaten”

Thorin turned shortly “long journey and all that”

He felt the nausea really starting to kick in and felt the darkness creep inn at the edges of his vision as he swayed a little where he stood

“zann galikh(good night)” and with that Thorin more or less ran away from the dining room

He stumbled down the hallway and tore open the door to his room. Slamming it shut. He stood there, just clutching his chest. He felt the dizziness growing bigger and sat down on the bed. He couldn't hear anything, all but the pounding of his heart in his ears. And he felt choked, like the air in the room wouldn't enter his lungs.

He couldn't breath, and that scared him. He couldn't hear, it scared him. What was happening to him? Why was he like this? Thorin didn't understand anything, and he was terrified. The great dwarven king under the mountain was reduced to nothing as he slowly laid down. Curling in on himself as his body shook with silent sobs drifting into the nights darkness

Chapter Text

It has now been three days since the dwarfs' arrival at Bag End. And yeet Thorin had not left his room. Bilbo started to get worried, really worried. He had heard semblance of a door creaking open at night, but only after him, Balin, Dwalin and Nori had gone to bed for the day.

Bilbo was worried for his old friend. He had basically bared himself in there. Replying with short grunts whenever one of them tried to talk to him. Balin had gone in once, but gave them only a shake of the head when he exited. telling them “the king seems to grow sicker”

And Bilbo so desperately wanted to help. He'd put out a plate of food, only after the others had gone to bed. But they'd be as full as ever the morning after. Not even a crumb missing. What was he to do? Of course the king got sicker if he hadn't drank or eaten in three days. Bilbo was down right frustrated at dwarven stubbornness.

On the evening of the third day, Bilbo had had enough. So he sat his ass down outside the door to Thorin's room and waited. And waited, then he waited some more. Because he knew Thorin would have to exit at some point. and true to his suspicions, the door opened

Thorin poked his head out of the door and looked up and down the halway to check if someone was there, and to his relief it was empty. So he took a step out, only to kick something soft and hear a disgruntled “hmpft, and whatever did you do that for?”.

because, right outside his door, sat a now very much awake hobbit gearing up at him. Thorin gaped down at Bilbo, shocked to see him there, and nor quite sure how to voice it “B-bilbo?... what are you doing here?” He stammered, quickly feeling his face heat up.

Bilbo huffed as he pulled himself up on his feet “well you see now Thorin” he said as he wagged a finger in thorin's face “you have not been seen outside the door in three days… three days Thorin. And not a crumb has been moved from the plate i've set out for you” Bilbo huffed indignantly, placing both hands on his hips. Thorin felt heat rising to his face and he didn't really want to have this conversation with Bilbo right now. He swallows and opens and closes his mouth repeatedly to try and answer, but no words came to his rescue.

“DO you have any idea how worried I've been?” Bilbo whisper-shouts at him as he throws his hands up “Worried sick have i” But Thorin didn't catch the rest of the sentence. Bilbo had been worried about him, for his well being. “you've…you've been worried?” it fell from thorin's mouth like unwanted dust.

Bilbo stops his passing and looks at thorin dumb found “W-worried, yes of course i've been worried you absolut dimb with, You've locked yourself away for three days with no food, no water and not a pip of your continued survival” Bilbo said in a whispered hiss as he threw about his hands to further illustrate his point. Thorin could only feel the pit in his stomach grow further and push at his innards. It hurt to know he'd made Bilbo this upset and worried.

He looked at the floor, the wall, his hands, anywhere but the face in front of him. Still rambling on about how worried he'd been. Thorin was miserably afraid to see the hurt in Bilbo's face. He never wanted to see that again, he could never stomach seeing it again and knowing he was the reason for there ever being such emotions there and-

“Thorin, look at me” Thorin's thoughts were broken as a soft hand grasped around his ruff and worn hands, his eyes snapping up to meet an ocean of emerald green staring at his soul. “Thorin” Bilbo said his name in such a loving way it stung his heart as if an arrow had pairst it straight through. “Oh, thorin, we have so much to figure out, you and I” again, Bilbo said it is such a calm and loving voice, Thorin could not but nod along with a meek and broken “yeah, I-eh-I guess we do”

Thorin dint realy know what to do, where to go, what to say. He was sort of just frozen there, stil holding bilbos hand. It was just a bit musch for him. Bilbo her, wanting to talk to him, not running away, holding his hand. And Bilbo the ever best Hobbit there ever was understood this “Come now Thorin, lets sit on the bed” He said in ever as calm as always, And Thorin following song the tugg in his hand until he was firmly planted on the bed with Bilbo besides him.

“I-I-ihh..” He tried to talk, he really did, but all words somehow failed him “i know thorin, but i don't want to talk to you about this tonight” Bilbo only hushed him as he wrapped a hand around Thorin's broad shoulders.

This was forgiveness, understanding, love but most of all a want to try again. To heal their wounds. Tho redo the past, together. It hitt Thorin as a club to the face and he realised maybe they could heal together. But how could he give Bilbo what he deserved? Give him all the love he warrants? How could Thorin ever be enough for Bilbo? How could he make sure to never hurt Bilbo again?

The feelings were so much for him, and Bilbo only held him closer as Thorin's form became smaller. Bilbo only shushed him and stroked his hair, as his body started shaking with silent sobs. Whispering sweet nothings in his ear, caring not that his shoulder was slowly being soaked with silent tears.

And slowly the two sank further together, and eventually, asleep. And for the first time in ten years. There were no nightmares, no cold sweat, no tosing in deep sleep. There was only silence.