nestbox | | fix-it AU with roadsprings

[ dwarves are hardy folk. they are built to endure and to weather the storms and the evils of the world, built to last and spite the odds.

never the less, Thorin had not expected to wake again. even as they fussed and carried him back across the battlefield. the memory itself exists only in fragments in his mind before he mercifully lost consciousness for good, to the smell of cold and death and the clouds hanging low over his home.

it is days before he first wakes, and they are very long days and very long nights too. but he does wake, the King under the Mountain, and when he does, the first words out of his mouth are questions, half-coherent at best, inquiries of his kin, his friends. did they survive? did they stay?

reassurances do not do much when he already suspects they might try anything if it will pacify him. but he lasts mere minutes before exhaustion overtakes him again, and sleeps for most of another day. ]

[ by no small measure of luck (and the occasional application of a magic ring), Bilbo managed to escape the battle with nothing more to show for it than aching bones and a minor head injury - just a bump, really, though Óin insists on setting aside time to fuss over it all the same.

frankly, Bilbo is in no mood to be fussed over, though he hasn't the heart to tell Óin so. along with the rest of the Company, they're worried about the same thing, after all; namely, the three heirs of Durin lying abed, wounded from the battlefield. some are saying that it's a miracle that the three are still clinging to life at all - to which he's sure he heard Gandalf mutter in reply something about being thankful for once for the stubbornness of Dwarves.

Bilbo would be a lot more thankful if they would just wake up, honestly. there isn't much for a small Hobbit to do in the aftermath of a great battle, it would seem, and so while the Elves and Men and Dwarves (the latter under the direction of Dáin while they wait to see if... for Thorin to regain consciousness) are clearing battlefields and arranging for temporary shelter and discussing matters that seem far above his head, Bilbo has been left to wait and kick his heels and ignore the curious stares of anyone not from the Company, unsure of what to do while he's here, but equally as unable to leave.

there's a lot of excitement and joy when Fíli and Kíli wake, though Bilbo suspects that the younger of the two brothers will soon cause Óin to rip out his beard from stress with the amount of times he keeps trying to sneak out of bed at any available opportunity, wanting news of his uncle and the results of the battle and the goings-on around Erebor. (Bilbo also suspects that only the fact that Fíli has a broken leg he cannot walk on is preventing him from joining his brother in his quest to tear out every single one of his stitches.)

the first time Thorin wakes brings more excitement still, regardless of how little time it lasts. the more optimistic of the Company, like Bofur and Ori, seem to take it as a good sign. even Óin seems lighter with relief, though he cautions that they're not entirely out of the woods yet. Bilbo, after the initial flutter of relief, is more apprehensive; not only because of his natural inclination to pessimism, but because - well, because he hasn't quite figured out yet what he will do if - when - Thorin wakes up for good. he's well aware that they have unfinished business with each other, though it goes without saying that he's unspeakably glad that it now seems Thorin will live, against all the odds, to remove the un- from that equation.

still, the result has been that Bilbo has spent much of his days since the battle fretting and worrying over one thing and another while feeling quite useless, drifting between Gandalf's side, the companionship of the conscious members of the Company, and the sickbeds of the Dwarvish king and his sister-sons.

it's to the latter that his steps have taken him once more, and after catching Kíli trying to sneak out of bed for the umpteenth time ("You know, it's just a thought, but your brother's room isn't exactly the most clever of hiding spots."), Bilbo finds himself sitting by Thorin's bedside with a book that he isn't even pretending to be reading by this point, tapping his fingers softly on the binding. ]

[ his first waking had been agony in more ways than one. every breath hurt so much his head swam from the pain, as if it wasn't already doing that, and the thought that he'd lived - had outlived his heirs - never mind what might have happened to the others had put a different kind of pain in his chest. perhaps that's why, once his mind had been eased on those accounts, he'd immediately let himself rest again, his sleep the blissfully dreamless sleep of recovery.

now, the first thing he notices as his consciousness finds its way back to him is the silence. so much time spent in inns and outdoors, so much time spent with his Company. any encampment of over a dozen people is never as silent as this. it's the quiet tapping of fingers that makes him stir, realizing he isn't quite alone. when he opens his eyes to the carved stone ceiling above, he sighs, but it's a quiet sound, too short to do anything justice. the pain may be more bearable now, but truth be told, he barely dares to breathe hard at all, marveling how he's continued to in the first place. so he takes no chances and turns only his head toward the incessant tapping sound. it can only really be one person, he realizes. none else he knows is given to such quiet expressions of impatience.

Thorin feels himself attempt to smile without deciding to. a tired thing, still, but his eyes are clear. there are, he thinks, things he should say, but isn't sure where to start. last they spoke, he'd thought he was dying for a certainty. ]

[ it's only because so much time has passed where the amount of visible change in Thorin could best be described as none or very little - that first awakening notwithstanding, and that was only very recently - that the movement from the bed does not go unnoticed.

Bilbo has zoned out a little by this point, his eyes fixed on some nameless point somewhere about five feet behind the solid stone wall, but his sharp ears pick up on the slight out-of-place sounds before the rest of him does. he blinks, gaze tracking towards the bed where it stops abruptly, along with his breath for a second. ]

Thorin-- [ --"you're awake" sounds far too obvious and is dismissed outright as a ridiculous thing to say, but then what does that leave him to fall back on? Hobbit propriety doesn't really prepare you for what to say when someone returns from having all but barrelled down death's door!

it's at that point that Bilbo realises that he (quite involuntarily) rose halfway out of his seat when he noticed that Thorin was awake. so now, he (quite self-consciously) sinks back down into it. there's something dancing in his eyes, though, relief and something else he can't quite put a name to yet, something that might just be gladness. ] Um. How are you feeling, do you need anything?

[ there probably isn't any kind of propriety or protocol for this kind of situation anywhere in Middle Earth. not that Thorin is the type to care overmuch, anyway. if anything, his almost-smile gets a little wider. Bilbo has always been different from them, but right now, as alien as it once might have been, this is far easier to stand than a lot of dwarves, a lot of fussing and a lot of noise. ]

Better.

[ to answer the first part of the question. it isn't much. his voice is hoarse with disuse, never mind the screams that echoed down the hallway when he first attempted to move just yesterday. (though that might've been a week or a month or an hour ago for all the sense of time he's got right now.) all things considered, the bar for "better" isn't all that high, but Thorin is nothing if not stubborn. ]

It seems I will live after all.

[ much to the surprise of some and chagrin of others, he imagines. not that he had expected it himself. hadn't even wanted to hope for it, after seeing his sister-sons both fall, and yet...
he forges on. no point dwelling on what is over and done with. ]

How long has it been, since... ?

[ well, goodness, don't sound so happy about it, Bilbo thinks, the dry thought almost a reflex, but keeps that comment to himself. instead, he presses the book closed between his hands, thumbs pressing down on the front cover. ]

Yes - yes, I think you'll find that in spite of all your best efforts, you are going to live. [ which is something that feels very good to say out loud, now it comes to it. ] Though if you don't mind me saying so, you haven't half kept us on our toes.

[ Bilbo sniffs, before scrunching his face up and starting to count the days backwards in his head. ]

But anyway, I should think it's been several days? I have counted at least eight, though I find it's difficult to keep track in these parts when you're used to relying almost wholly on the sun to tell time. The way Fíli and Kíli have been carrying on since the two of them woke up, though, you'd think they'd been lying there for weeks on end.

[ and now Thorin knows for certain that his nephews are alive and on the mend, at least. just in case that hadn't sunk in in the chaos before. ]

[ the sound Thorin makes in response could just be a scoff if it weren't for the grin on his face. despite his best efforts, indeed. he can't even deny that.
the grin fades to something of a fond smile at the mention of his nephews. he's glad they're on the mend, and faster than him at that. a greater gift than all the gold in the Mountain. ]

Good.

[ their unrest is a sign that they're healing well, after all. but now Thorin finds that he isn't quite content staying quite so horizontal, so he drags himself up into a halfway seated position, leaning heavily back against the pillows. might be that he winces and grits his teeth to keep any pained sound from leaving his mouth but, well. never has he been one to stay down.
... yeah that's enough effort for right now though. and not too bad a way to buy time to sort his thoughts out before he brings up what he feels he must, let him just sit here a moment. ]

What are you- wait wait wait, hang on a minute, hold on, Thorin, you only just woke--!

[ Bilbo's protests, though accompanied with a scowl and the scraping of his chair as he jumps to his feet properly this time, peeter out into a huff as he throws his hands up in the sort of gesture that says I really don't know what else I expected. the stubbornness of Dwarves, indeed! ]

Honestly, [ he starts, folding his arms. ] I don't know how any of you Dwarves ever heal properly from anything, if this is how you all act when you're injured. [ not even five minutes, Thorin! ] Just for the record, I shan't be covering for you with Óin if he asks.

And I'd not ask you to. He knows who he's dealing with.

[ and who he chose to follow anyway. he is not his nephews and he doesn't make excuses, even if it amuses him that Bilbo even considered covering for him. shifting makes him breathe a little more easily, but frankly Thorin isn't about to do much more than that for the time being. ]

Well, thank goodness for that. Any lesser healer would be driven to distraction by you and your relatives, I'm sure. Still, I'm going to have to insist that you don't do anything too strenuous until he can get another look at you. [ this said very matter-of-factly, of course, though Bilbo doesn't seriously think that Thorin will even be trying anything of the sort.

... he hopes, anyway. ]

[ Thorin gives him a long and flat look in response. for all that he has lost a good deal of his recklessness, the impulse to now do something out of spite is hard to deny. it does cross his mind whether or not this particular Hobbit would be capable of restraining him at the moment, even if he wasn't planning on moving in the first place. ]

Are you.

[ ... going to have to insist, that is. ]

Rest assured Master Baggins, I'm in no hurry and have no further quests to complete.

[ being on the receiving end of a long and flat look from Thorin Oakenshield may have had some quelling effect on the Bilbo Baggins of a year ago, but now he just takes it as a good sign. must be on the mend if he can summon up a glare, after all.

... the joke, however, is new, and earns a double-take followed by an incredulous chuckle. ]

I'm glad to hear it. I think we've all had our fill of quests for quite some time. [ Bilbo punctuates this comment by sitting down once more, still shaking his head slightly at the fact that he just heard Thorin Oakenshield make what he can only assume to have been a joke. ] Except for Gandalf, maybe. I don't think he ever really stops.

Perhaps not.

[ even so, Thorin isn't exactly the wizard's greatest admirer at the moment. nor is he likely ever to be, what with the wizard starting him on his quest and then disappearing when he might have been great help indeed. it drains the humour from his tone. but thinking of those who left, and those who did not - Thorin pauses before he speaks again. ]

I hadn't thought that you would stay.

[ he was wrong, again. and again, he finds he is glad for it. ]

[ Bilbo's jaw does not drop, nor does he actually say "What?", but his face is an answer enough without either of those things. he looks utterly bewildered, mouthing the words to himself, before also looking slightly hurt. ]

Hadn't thought I would--? Thorin, for a while there none of us knew whether or not you were on - on your deathbed, if you must know, do you really think I'd just up and leave without knowing you were going to make it through?

[ the exasperation in his tone is palpable. ]

[ he hadn't thought you'd have stayed for his funeral either. go home, plant your trees- ... well. so he just huffs, his shoulders relaxing where he didn't even notice the tension creep in to start with. it all seems so normal from the way Bilbo says it. caring as natural as breathing. perhaps he should be used to it now, after everything they went through together. but the more he wants to believe in him, the more the notion unsettles him, so his next words are careful and measured. ]

I do not take forgiveness for granted.

[ he doesn't give it easily himself, after all. if he gives it at all. ]

[ it occurs to Bilbo that caring about whether or not someone lives or dies and forgiving them for a past transgression aren't necessarily mutually exclusive, but then maybe things like that are different for Dwarves. the Hobbit's mouth settles in a long, thin line as he sighs through his nose, his indignation cooling at Thorin's words. ]

I know. But I'm a Hobbit, not a Dwarf. I know it must be different for you, but we're not - [ and here he pulls a face, seemingly having trouble settling on the right way to get across what he wants to say ] - we don't hold grudges, as a rule, at least not unless they're frightfully petty.

[ he shrugs. ] I suppose that, yes, I could've turned and gone right back to the Shire there and then, if I'd wanted to, but... honestly, after everything and with the state you and Fíli and Kíli were in, I don't think I could've forgiven myself if I had.

[ how terrible would that have been, never knowing? ]

[ Thorin, taking in the words, finds himself lacking a response. he nods. accepts and understands, or tries to. this would be so much easier if he could show instead of tell, but he can't, or at least, not at the moment. words will have to do.

he thinks about the next ones for a moment, letting the silence linger, but in the end, all he can come up with still just come from the heart. ]

As glad as I am to see you made it through the battle unharmed, I have to wonder how you did it.

[ stealth will go a ways in mines and tunnels and forests too, but in the thick of the fighting? there is no suspicion in his voice now, only curiosity. and that took long enough, too. ]

[ thank goodness Thorin seems to have accepted that explanation, judging from his face, because Bilbo's really not sure how else he can put into words just how nerve-wracking the past days have been. he's rather glad, in the end, that Thorin moves things on, even if the question does catch him wrong-footed for a moment. ]

Oh - [ he starts, abashed ] - well, I think, really, it was down to luck far more than anything else. And I wouldn't be surprised if Dwalin had a lot to do with it as well. I took a bump to the back of the head that knocked me clean out for a great deal of the fighting, and, well, it seems that not being noticed has its advantages, on a battlefield.

[ he smiles wryly. ] I did manage to get a few of them with rocks beforehand, though, if it interests you.

[ it makes sense enough, being small and easy to miss. Dwalin looking out for him as well, of course. but what Bilbo says next gets an incredulous look from the dwarven king. hang on, hang on, let him get this straight. ]

You were killing orcs with stones?

[ ........ is this real life? ]

Large rocks, really, but yes. I don't know if I caused that much damage to many of them, honestly, but I certainly knocked them down for long enough for Dwalin to get his say.

[ it's not something he seems comfortable thinking about. certainly it was a battle, and Bilbo's not going to lose any sleep over some dead orcs, but he would be the first to tell you that he's not a natural fighter. ]

[ and Thorin just laughs. not as loud as he might normally, because breathing hurts and laughing hurts more, but not so much so that it stops him. ]

And to think we worried about you. [ and to think I worried about you - he says it like a compliment, and it is. his tone carries respect and fondness equal to the amusement. ]

Never again shall I doubt the courage of hobbits.

[ Bilbo, on the other hand, has an odd smile spreading slowly across his face; the slow, surprised smile of someone experiencing something strange and slightly wonderful.

it takes him a moment to find his voice again, and when he does he gives a little shrug. ]

... Well. I suppose that just as long as I have a good supply of rocks handy, I daresay you needn't worry about me too much.

[ he notices the smile, but doesn't care to call him out on it. the observation merely softens his expression, because, well... of course Bilbo has never seen him like this. nobody has, for a very long time. he hasn't been home in a very long time, home and at peace. ]

Good. [ and it is. of course, Bilbo is not like to have anything to fear once he makes it to the Shire, anyway. for once, Thorin doesn't bother fighting the urge to close his eyes for a moment. there's nothing to prove, not here, no image to maintain toward someone who might have heard his dying words. Thorin is still tired. he sighs deeply before he looks at his friend again. there's something on his mind that weighs on him, and he'd sooner have it over with than carrying it any longer. ]

I found your letter.

[ and all that entails. ]

[ the smile lingers for a little longer, though Bilbo considers for a moment asking Thorin if he would like to be left to rest when he sees the Dwarf king's eyes close - he's keenly aware of how serious his injuries were, after all, and how he's barely recovered from them.

he barely opens his mouth before he freezes like that, neatly caught by Thorin's (characteristically blunt) words. he promptly shuts his mouth again a moment later. he then follows it up with a faint: ]

Oh.

[ well, here it is; the conversation he's been dreading but knows that they must have. once again, his hands press the binding of his book, now largely forgotten about, holding it shut fast. ]

What I wrote - it still stands.

[ what does he say? what can he say, what is there left to be said? he remembers the letter well. Thorin pauses, searching for words that fit well enough to use, gaze shifting between the wall ahead of him and the blanket, and his friend. he has chosen his words in the past, at times, but not often for this kind of reason. ]

Despite, as you said, our best efforts, we are indeed all alive in the end.

[ and how much more bitter would matters have been if they had not? now he looks at Bilbo in full. ]

There is nothing to forgive. ... When I lost my way, you were the only one with the wisdom and courage to defy me before it was too late. And for this, I am still grateful.

[ it's no small amount of relieving, to hear the words, but Bilbo cannot help but feel a small measure of surprise as well. he had hoped, at best, to be forgiven for what he did (for even if Bilbo still thinks that he did the right thing in not giving the Arkenstone up to a gold-crazed Thorin, he still feels badly about the whole affair) - but to hear Thorin say that he is grateful is another thing entirely. ]

You're... grateful. Even after the mess I made of that whole business with the stone?

[ he tries to keep his tone light; it's not easy, still, to think of the change that the dragon sickness worked on Thorin. ]

[ he nods. keeps his eyes firmly on him. of course it hurt and it still hurts to think that a thing so precious and so important was only ever poison, but there's no denying it now. ]

If you hadn't, do you think I would've yielded?

[ and if he hadn't, if Thorin hadn't come to his senses when he did, then that battle could've taken a turn for... well, far worse than it did. ]

[ no is the answer that immediately springs to mind. Bilbo doesn't think so; not with how far gone Thorin was. isn't that the reason he resolved to try out his foolish idea in the first place? he swallows, eyes downcast, and, after a moment, shakes his head. ]

No. [ he lifts his gaze again, saying more assertively: ] No, I don't think you would have at all. You've always been - well, stubborn, if you don't mind me saying so, even at the best of times, but this was - this was something far beyond that.

[ another nod, but this one carries more weight, enough to bear his gaze down for a moment. he is tired again already, but this he wants to see through. ]

And there you have it.

[ even Thorin himself knows not where he was, where or how he lost sight of himself down the road to what he wanted for so long. lost sight of what he'd had all along. ]

In the end- [ he falters, hesitant to say it, the words heavy on his tongue. ] In the end, even a jewel with no equal is just a jewel. It cannot save lives.

[ and in the end, lives are so much more precious than gems. what a fool he was to ever have forgotten this. ]

| fix-it AU with roadsprings

letters and second chances.

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