Days of Agony [Featured]

The Darkest Night

Bilbo woke to the sparkling, woolly light that usually came with sunny mornings. He rubbed his eyes to dispel the lingering sleepiness and realised that he had slept more deeply than usual, no doubt a side-effect of a day spent in the scent-laden, hot chaos of a kitchen. He rose on his elbows and blinked a few times until his vision cleared. There was indeed something sparkling in the room, but it was not the light itself. It was the finely threaded gold and gems of the garlands hanging around the windows. This was not the Yule décor that he was accustomed to, but there was little of the familiar in his life now. In fact, the one thing that he had become familiar with in the past year was the occurrence of the unexpected. Bilbo lay back down in bed, and stared at the ceiling with its pool of sunlight streaming from the outside.

Then, as he tried to picture the world beyond, he felt more and more keenly that he was being watched. He turned his head and met a different kind of light, one that seemed to weave the sun and the sparkling gems into something magical.

"Thorin," said Bilbo a little startled. "I didn't realise you were awake."

Thorin smiled secretly, as if there was a world of meaning behind that smile that would have taken him hours to express in words and even then he wouldn't have managed to say it all. He seemed to have managed to turn on his left side during the night, in spite of the serious injuries in his arm and shoulder. And who knew how long he had been awake and watching Bilbo? He didn't look freshly woken.

"Is there anything you need?" asked Bilbo, trying to fill the space between them with something other than things unspoken.

"No," said Thorin, a dreamy tone laced in his voice, "I have everything I need right here."

Bilbo smiled nervously, he knew. Thorin seemed bolder with words in the past few days, and less willing to make it look like he regretted it. "Surely, there is more you need than me."

"No, not really."

"Well, for one thing, you need to get better, and for that you need water and food and care," said Bilbo, rising again on his elbows.

Thorin followed him with his eyes. "I will get better."

Bilbo looked at him, realising he had been talking a little too fast and with too much aplomb. "Yes, of course you will." He lay back down and sighed, then studied the ceiling for a bit longer, not really letting his gaze be stopped in its skyward flight by the mountain of stone above him. He turned again to Thorin. "What I meant was, you need to rebuild your kingdom now that you've got it back. You need to fulfill your promise to your people, and to yourself. You need to be their king. You would never be happy otherwise."

"And I will do all that. But I would be just as unhappy if you went away," said Thorin, a shadow draping over his previously shining voice.

"Is this what you hoped for with Nyrath? To have him and your throne, too?"

The shadow deepened in Thorin's eyes, and their focus fell away to a nether land of haze. "That... would have never been possible."

"And it will be possible with me?" asked Bilbo.

Thorin looked back to him, conviction blazing renewed in his eyes. "Yes."

"Really? How? What has changed?"

"I owe nothing more to anyone," said Thorin, with a subtle note of anger. "My promise was to get Erebor back, and I have. What I do with myself from now on is my concern only."

Bilbo smiled. "The Company seems to think so. I wonder if everyone else will be as accepting as they are."

Thorin remained silent for a while, unable to dispel Bilbo's doubts with certainty. "I will understand if you choose to go back home," he conceded, sounding prematurely defeated. "I can ask someone to go with you as soon as you wish."