Chapter Text
Tears began to well his eyes. Bilbo glanced back one more time as Erebor began shrinking from sight, his hobbit eyes searching for any sign. Hoping in his mind that Thorin would come running after him, understanding how desperately sorry he was and his true intentions. He had only acted out of love and hopes of protecting him from any harm. But no goodbyes, not even a glance his way as he gathered his belongings to leave. Not even those he counted as friends, even some so much as family, showed any sign of acknowledgement of his existence. He had genuinely felt as if he had been wearing the magic ring the whole time.
He sighed as he rubbed the beginnings of the small swell in his belly, feeling wretched with sadness and unceasing heartache. Trying to ignore the tears he felt welling up in his eyes again he was startled as Gandalf rode up beside him. “It is only the sickness of the gold infecting his mind dear Bilbo. Things will be right and he will realize his wrong doing.” Bilbo looked up to meet Gandalf’s gaze, nodding softly. He hoped that Gandalf was right, but how could he continue on without the love that held him together all that long time through the journey?
The memory of the feel of Thorin’s breathe on his skin, the warmth and comfort that radiated from his embrace whenever Bilbo had felt despairing caused his heart to ache even further. How he longed to be in his arms, to feel the support and strength he needed; especially with the great burden to come. But that comfort would not come; no, he would carry this burden alone. Gandalf tried to relieve Bilbo from the sadness plaguing him through wonderfully adventurous tales, but Bilbo just drew into himself more depression worsening every day.
Bilbo rode his pony into Hobbiton towards Bag End, panic washing over him. “What will the other Hobbits have to say about his predicament? How could I have been so foolish to give my heart to the dwarf king? How will I survive the rest of his life this way?” Bilbo stepped into Bag End, and the silence hit him like a ton of bricks. He fell to his knees overcome with the grief he felt at the loss of the one thing he never knew he needed or wanted. The loss of his greatest and truest friends and the holder of his heart. He thought of the last time he had been home, the places filled to the brim with his dear dear friends. Their voices ringing through the air as they sang and cleaned up after dinner. How he had loved to listen to them sing. Especially Thorin; his voice would haunt Bilbo’s mind 'til the day he died.
He made his way into his sitting room towards the fireplace. He sat in his chair feeling overwhelmed with the thought of the difficulties awaiting him in the months to come. “I’m sorry you must come into this world this way.” He sighed suppressing the sobs he felt rising in him as he rubbed his growing middle. His secret growing, a secret that would not stay secret for long for he was bearing the child of Thorin.
He sat and watched the fire crackle, hot tears streaming down his face as he thought back on a better time. A happier time.