Days of Agony [Featured]

Tears and Promises

Bilbo woke to the sound of agony. As he opened his eyes, the scene that he witnessed made him cringe in dismay after he had finally slept well for the first time in many nights.

In the bed before him, Thorin lay flat on his back, his arms spread out like injured wings, with the blanket lowered below his waist, and his wounds unwrapped. Oin, the Company healer, was patting carefully at them with a cloth that he kept rinsing in a bowl at his side, while Balin washed the rest of him with equal care. Still, their ministrations seemed to cause Thorin great discomfort. His eyes were closed, but he was certainly not asleep, as Oin's gestures elicited faint moans from him, and little beads of sweat were clinging to his forehead. There were also little twitches under his skin every time one of his wounds was being touched. They looked less terrifying than when Bilbo had first seen them right after the battle, but it still hurt to even look at him bare.

When Thorin had finally awoken the previous noon after five days of hanging precariously between life and death, Bilbo had thought that the hardest part was over. Now he realized that his enthusiasm had pushed him into misplaced optimism. The greatest danger had passed, but there was nothing easy about what followed. Thorin had to be nursed back to health and, by the dire look of things, it was going to be a long and difficult process.

Bilbo sat up in his armchair, the rustle of his quilt alerting Balin to his newly awake presence. The dwarf glanced back to him with a look of composure that was the exact opposite of what Bilbo felt about what he was seeing.

"Can I help?" offered the hobbit.

Thorin roused immediately to the sound of his voice. He opened his eyes and turned his head towards Bilbo. Inevitably compelled, the hobbit rose from his seat, not without some protest from his own battered body, and staggered to the side of Thorin's bed.

Balin smiled as he resumed his gentle task. "We will have to wash his hair properly later. We'll be needing your help with that."

Bilbo nodded and looked down to Thorin, who was gazing up at him with large, watery eyes, their blue irises faded grey. It seemed as if all the pain that he was feeling was pouring out through them and showing itself, raw, and blistery, and stinging, to Bilbo. He wished he could have done something to take it away. His first impulse was to comfort Thorin with a touch that was not hurtful, but he did not dare as much with the other two dwarves there. He felt guilty and cowardly about it looking into Thorin's anguished gaze, but all he could bring himself to do at that point was to receive as much of his pain into his own eyes and try to tell him wordlessly that he was there with him and that he was not going anywhere.

Thorin seemed to understand. He closed his eyes again and allowed his head to lean back to his side, apparently resigning himself to being poked and prodded for a little while longer. To his further shame, Bilbo actually felt relieved that Thorin was no longer sharing his agony with him.

Balin laid aside his washcloth and began lowering the covers over Thorin's legs. He only had on a pair of briefs. His right thigh was bandaged, but the left one was largely undamaged. Bilbo only managed to muse shortly on how different Dwarf legs looked from Hobbit legs, with their sinewy thickness and their fuzzy cloak of dark hair, before Balin shooed him away tactfully. "Bilbo, if you don't mind," he said "we need to do a bit of bathing that is more... private."

"Oh, yes, of course," jumped Bilbo, blushing a little and springing into motion towards the door. "I'll, uh, see how Fili and Kili are."

"You do that," approved Balin with a wink.

Bilbo grimaced back and sped out of the room. As he stepped out, Thorin released an actual groan. It seemed that bared dignity hurt more than mauled flesh.