Just Short The Hobbit Edition

It’s been nearly ten years since that day, that day that he lost the one he loved most. No tears fall down his face as he remembers, remembers as if it was yesterday. The gold had glittered so beautifully, bringing him in with a false sense of happiness, lulling him in to complacency. He had his gold what more… the Arkenstone, that’s what he had needed even more than the gold. Bilbo had been there, his face showing all the tells that he was uncomfortable, that he didn’t understand but would weather what was happening because he loved Thorin. He had taken Thorin’s hand into his own, hazel eyes bright with love.

“I’m so proud of you,” he had whispered so sweetly going on to talk about how they could rebuild Erebor, rebuild Dale with all the gold in the treasury.

With disgust of the one he claimed to love, how could he love a being who didn’t understand the importance of gold. Oh Mahal, if only, if only he knew what he knew today back then!!!

Thorin’s hands shake as leaves the balcony he was standing on to retreat into his room. If he had known, he would have swept Bilbo into his arms. He would have kissed him deeply, soundly, ridding his Burglar of any doubt he may of possessed. For it didn’t matter how many times Bilbo had saved them, loved them despite their crude behavior, tolerated their insensitivity Thorin knew that Bilbo hadn’t felt like one of them. Oh Mahal, what he wouldn’t do for one more chance to sweep Bilbo into another hug and thank him for being there; for not giving up on them and turning away. He would have forgiven Bilbo of any imagined faults.

He buries his head into his hands and sobs dryly, his shoulders hitching in his moment of unkingly behavior. Desperately he wants to hear Bilbo’s voice, even if it is just him scolding the dwarves. He wants to call out for him, scream his name to the skies in hopes of their Burglar answering… But he won’t. Not anymore and never again. Thorin knows this but he doesn’t want to admit on days like this. Days that have meaning, the anniversary of the Battle of Five Armies, Durin’s Day, the day they arrived at Boern’s… days like these are days he just wants to be alone.

He looks up, his eyes red, heart long ast broken.

“I’m so sorry for blaming you,” he sobs softly. The horrid hindsight of hurting Bilbo, he hurt himself as well. He threatened his One, gold sickness be damned, he isn’t worthy of his title but Fíli is still too young, too innocent for the throne. Taking it now will ruin him and Thorin won’t let that happen.

The door opens and his nephews enter his room, they curl around him, to comfort him and for comfort. Some days they can pretend they aren’t broken. They can go about smiling and laughing. Then they break down and Thorin is left to pick of the pieces, he has to keep them together as he struggles to keep himself together. Sometimes it’s too much for him and he runs into his room. Runs like the coward he really is and locks the door. The void left in his heart is too much to bear, he doesn’t want to say goodbye. Doesn’t want to leave the lie of, he’ll come back one day.

Later, when he manages to escape his nephews, his sister, and everyone else who knows how much pain he really is in, he wanders out of the mountain. Down to an Elf made glade with a single oak tree stretching its limbs up into the sky. He sits down in front of the marble statue with copper hair and sard eyes ignoring the dirt and the grass that will surely leave stains. They buried their Burglar here, out in the open beneath the oak tree. Figured he would like this more than the impersonal catacombs under the mountain. He smiles at the amount of flowers left in front of the statue taking one in his hands, he tells Bilbo everything he has missed, he asks him questions.

“Am I still doing wrong? Why aren’t you here to help me understand this? Do you watch me; are you looking down wherever you are? Are you proud of who I have become?”

He would give anything for just one more chance. To be able to see clear hazel eyes staring into his own eyes. Love, adoration, irritation, Aule and Yavanna combined there’s nothing he wouldn’t give to see any emotion shining in eyes long closed!!!

It’s his own fault that Bilbo is gone. The gold sickness that he swore he would never allow take hold of him sank its dirty claws into him deeper than he ever though imaginable, and because he was unable to fight it to not fall to it… He blamed, accused Bilbo for so much while under its spell…

If he had just one more day, there’s so much he would do. He would thank him, hug him, kiss him… If Thorin had just one more day with Bilbo he would tell him just how horrible it is to be without him, how he misses him so very much. Just one day… but that’s a lie, he wouldn’t be satisfied with just one more day.

When he closes his eyes he imagines the battle, imagines what he could have done to spare his Burglar. There are so many things that could have changed but according to Óin it would have ended with his and his nephew’s death.

”He saved your lives Thorin. When you and the boys went down, he attacked Azog… He didn’t make it laddie… I’m so sorry.”

Tears finally fall down his face. Bilbo had given his life for the one who threatened to have him killed. For as long as he lives he will never understand why… It’s dangerous to play with time he knows but that doesn’t stop him from wishing just maybe Bilbo could save his nephews but leave him, the true betrayer to die. Foolish he knows, Bilbo would never allow him to die. Even now that he is gone Bilbo keeps him alive through the happy memories. Standing he kisses the statue of Bilbo’s forehead lovingly.

“Until next time my love,” he whispers turning back to mountain. He doesn’t see the single drop of his own tears trailing down the marble face making it look as if the statue is crying.

Here lies the brave Hobbit of Erebor who gave his life for his loved ones. May his Sacrifice be an example to all, Men, Dwarves, Elves, Wizards of how deep love can go. Bilbo Baggins you may be gone but you will never be forgotten.