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He had hoped it would go away. That if he breathed calmly, as deeply as he could and if he got away from the smoke of the low damp fire, then the pain high in his chest might diminish. But instead it grew, his throat swollen and his chest tight. He tried to hide the wheezing, suppressed the cough so not to bother any of the sleeping dwarves near him.
The medicine he normally took was gone with his pack in the goblin cave and he had only been able to find one of the ingredients in the wild. And of course Gandalf had left them to camp at the base of the Carrock, gone to find shelter and friendliness he’d said.
“Master Bilbo? What’s wrong?” Bofur asked, startling Bilbo into gasping.
Coughing wracked his small frame, he pulled his knees to his chest and let the spittle fall to the ground between them, unable to drag in proper amounts of air. The burning in his chest became a bright pain.
Bilbo slowly became aware of hands on his back stroking as if that would soothe the enflamed muscles of his throat and chest. The coughs died down but the rasping, wet wheeze did not leave him. He sat back and tried to gulp in air, suddenly noticing how he was surrounded by the company – all looking to be in stages of panic.
“S-sorry! I’m h-h-having an attack!” He forced out, hand to his throat.
“Does it have anything to do with the tea you drink at night?” Dori asked.
Bilbo nodded, “Medicine.”
“Well, where’s his medicine!?” Kili demanded and Fili looked at him sharply
“In the goblin caves, with everything else.” The older brother snapped.
Kili ducked his head with a soft apology, “I just don’t like seeing him..suffer so.”
Fili threw his arm around his brother and they sat down beside the hobbit to try and provide some comfort.
“Bilbo – can you tell us what was in the medicine? We might be able to cobble something good enough together to help!” Bofur looked to Dori and Balin who both went immediately rummaging through their various pockets of assorted things.
“W-w-won’t help.” Bilbo shook his head, nearly slapping himself to cover his mouth as another round of hacking coughs exploded from him.
Bofur looked up to Thorin who was silent and pale, dark eyes wide and fixed on the shaking form of their burglar. He had never seen their leader as afraid or panicked as he looked in that moment.
Ori cleared his throat and blushed under the weight of the company’s attention.
“We perhaps could find a Lobelia? It’s a weed that might cure the attack so we have more time to create a medicine?” he offered softly, looking hopeful.
Bilbo nodded through his coughing, pointing at the shy dwarf as if agreeing with him.
“Good lad,” Dwalin grumbled, clapping the young dwarf on the back, “you know what it looks like?”
“Yes, but we’ll need light to find it in this wood.” The scribe said.
“Okay, grab torches. Get a description from Ori, then everyone off!” Dwalin ordered, delighting silently in the scramble of all but three dwarves.
The brothers were curled up protectively around the hobbit – who was sweating, wheezing and pale but for the splotches on his face – and Thorin, who, surprisingly, sat beside them and settled a hand on the hobbit’s chest as if he could will the pain away.
Dwalin figured they would be better caretakers than anyone else and promptly lead the rest into the dark of the woods in search of the Lobelia.
“What’s taking them all so long?” Fili hissed to his uncle, watching the pinpricks of light move farther and farther until they were gone.
“It might not grow here.” Kili whispered, looking frightfully at the hobbit who was leaning weakly against Thorin.
“Where is Gandalf? He could help!” Fili growled, holding tighter to his brother.
“Gandalf is here, young Fili.” The wizard’s voice appeared before he himself did, coming from the shadows with purpose.
“Gandalf! It’s Bilbo! He – he’s fightin’ to breathe and can’t and - ” Kili scrambled to his feet.
Fili followed and pulled his brother away from Bilbo, Thorin and Gandalf as the wizard knelt in the spot they vacated.
“Water!” Gandalf ordered and the two scrambled for a pan, water and a cup.
“How long has he been like this?” Gandalf quietly asked Thorin, touching the hobbit’s flushed cheeks.
“Almost an hour, steadily worsening.” Thorin murmured. “What is wrong with him?”
“He is an asthmatic. Which means that the muscles that help with breathing located in the throat and upper chest can be compromised. By allergens, fear, smoke, whatever triggers them to constrict, and thus hampering his ability to breathe.” Gandalf explained, pulling a packet of deep, glossy green herb from the folds of his robes.
A mug appeared beside them, steaming. Kili and Fili watched with apprehension as Gandalf mixed some of that herb into the water, then with Thorin’s help forced Bilbo to slowly drink it.
Gandalf asked for the rest of the hot water, then made hot compresses of cloth and the herbs and laid them against Bilbo’s chest. He kept replacing them with fresh compresses as they cooled, and he seemed pleased that Bilbo was coughing and it sounded even wetter.
Like whatever it was in his chest that gave him an attack was loosening, Bilbo’s breathing was coming much easier. The brothers went into the forest to pull the company back to the camp.
“Bilbo, it’s time to wake up my boy.” Gandalf gently patted the hobbit on the cheek, removing the compresses and gently feeling his throat and chest.
“Wha-mm? Gandalf?” Bilbo cleared his throat, finding it clear. His chest was sore and he groaned, rubbing at it.
“Yes, and Thorin too. You gave us quite a fright.” Gandalf smiled.
“I’m sorry! My medicine was in the pack lost in the goblin cave.” Bilbo looked sheepish.
“Not to worry, Master Baggins. I have some replacement for you here, as well as more Lobelia. We shall be sure to stock up on more at our friend’s home this evening.” Gandalf ruffled the halfling’s hair before standing and greeting the rest of the company.
Thorin helped Bilbo to his feet, ignoring the hobbit’s soft sputter as he buttoned up the linen shirt for him too.
There was a moment that their eyes met and Thorin couldn’t help himself. He crushed the hobbit to his chest and buried his nose under the halfling’s ear, murmuring about ‘never scaring me like that again’ and ‘silly hobbit needing to take care of himself better’ and the like. Bilbo smiled and hugged back as hard as he could.
“Oi! He just got done trying to suffocate himself, don’t help him!” Dwalin laughed at the blush on the hobbit’s face.
The company packed up and put out the fire at Gandalf’s direction, since he had found them shelter, and if anyone noticed Thorin pocketing the packet of Lobelia they didn’t say anything.
If they observed their king taking the time to help the still shaky hobbit to his feet, or in the hike to Beorn’s home, they kept silent then too.
They certainly didn’t say anything about casually held hands and the soft smile on the hobbit’s pink face.
Or that Thorin seemed to be a bit pink himself.
(Though bets were quickly and nearly silently taken.)