The Farm Girl

Ten

Having never really fallen fully asleep, Bilbo rises once all of the dwarves are soundly asleep. He has warred with himself for hours about this decision. He wants to believe Bel, that he has a place with this company, but the doubts swarm out her kind smile. He rolls his bedroll quietly, then straps on his sword and shoulders his pack. His hand pauses as he reaches for his walking staff, but then he resolutely grabs the weathered wood, sure in his decision.

As Bilbo moves to exit the cave, he can't but help notice Belireis. She lies in between Kili and Fili, the three of them huddled together for warmth. She is back to back with Kili, their hair tangled together on the bed rolls and Fili faces her, the two of them sharing his extra blanket for warmth. Her arm pokes out from under the blanket and Fili's hand rests protectively on her forearm, a surprisingly warm gesture that makes Bilbo smile despite his heavy heart. Even if they are still blind to it themselves, Bilbo can see what is developing between those two.

Fili and Bel murmured to each other long after the rest of the company had fallen asleep. He was trying to be gentle about asking her about her visions. Bilbo also saw Bel wincing in pain as they settled in for the night and wants to know what she saw as much as Fili does but is too hesitant to ask. She has been close lipped about her visions but he worries about what she sees.

As he reaches the mouth of the cave, Bofur's voice jolts him out of his thoughts. "Where do you think you're going?" the good-natured dwarf asks him.

Bilbo sighs heavily and fortifies himself with a breath. "Back to Rivendell," he says with as much force and surety as he can.

"No," Bofur objects, jumping to his feet, face earnest. "No, No. You can't turn back now." The honesty on his face is giving Bilbo second thoughts already. "You're part of the company. You're one of us."

Bilbo shakes his head, those last words ringing false to him. Thorin's eyes, unseen by Bilbo and Bofur, slowly open fractionally, a lifetime of living from place to place having triggered wakefulness.

"I'm not though, am I?" Bilbo asks, bitterness creeping into his tone. "Thorin said that I shoulder never have come, and he was right. I'm not a Took, I'm a Baggins, I don't know what I was thinking. I should've never run out the door." The words feel slippery as if some are true and some are not and Bilbo finds himself frustrated and upset to have been stopped by Bofur. It would have been simpler if no one had seen him go.

Bofur's face is compassionate. "You're homesick, I understand," he says kindly.

"No, you don't!" Bilbo yell-whispers, his frustration boiling over upon an underserving victim. "You don't understand, none of you do, you're dwarves! You're used to... to this life, to living on the road, never settling in one place, not belonging anywhere!" As soon as those words leave his mouth, Bilbo immediately regrets them. Bofur's face falls.

In the back of the cave, hidden from their view, Thorin's face is anguished. He looks over the dwarves in the cave, sees his nephews curled up next to Belireis. He wants them to see the halls of their forefathers, his two brave nephews who have never known Erebor, only the exile of the Blue mountains.

"I'm sorry," Bilbo chokes on his apology, knowing even sincerity may not mend what his words broke. "I didn't..." Bofur, looking over the sleeping dwarves, has a sad look in his normally jovial eyes.

"No," he says quietly to Bilbo. "You're right. We don't belong anywhere."

Bilbo shakes his head, the apologetic words crowding his throat. Bofur turns back to him with a sad, but forgiving smile. "I wish you all the luck in the world," he says quietly to Bilbo. His smile turns to something happier. "I really do."