Chapter Text
What was he still doing here? It was a thought that seemed to grow the longer Bilbo stayed and watched Erebor get back on her feet. At first it was because Thorin, Fili, and Kili needed someone to watch over them as they healed. Then it was because he felt obligated to help Balin organize and settle the return of Erebor’s people. However, now it’s been eight months, and Bilbo was running out of ways to distract himself from a simple truth: he didn’t want to go back.
He liked being in Erebor. He liked being amongst the dwarves who treated him with courtesy and respect, and not because they felt like it was the ‘polite’ thing to do as it was in the Shire. But because they genuinely appreciate his efforts. None of which were too ‘strange’ or ‘Tookish’. In fact, he’s had to downplay his involvement in the quest multiple times as the stories and gossip began to build him up into some sort of mighty hero. Of course, he’d been immediately foiled by his friends in the Company who seem to delight in seeing Bilbo a blushing mess in front of the masses of dwarves who would trip over themselves just to meet him. It was certainly a different feeling, being wanted. Bilbo just wished it was enough.
Perhaps that was the wrong sentiment. It was more than enough. Bilbo just wanted…to feel useful. To feel as though he had a purpose. To feel as though Thorin needed him. As if it wasn’t embarrassing enough to have his silly little crush obvious to the entire kingdom, but Bilbo got the feeling that Thorin was purposely putting boundaries between them. Avoiding Bilbo because he wasn’t sure how to let him down. Bilbo sighed as his hand wandered down to the acorn in his pocket tucked next to the letter he had gotten that morning.
Gandalf was returning to the mountain to check on progress and catch-up with old friends, and he asked Bilbo the hardest question he had ever had to consider.
I only bring it up again, because you once told me you would be prepared to make your goodbyes in one year’s time. I would be willing to provide you with an escort to the Shire if your wish is to return to Bag End. Is that still what you want?
Bilbo just didn’t know. He did know that he wouldn’t be able to make his decision without first talking to Thorin though which was incredibly daunting. So there he was down in the marketplace shopping for picnic foods. If there was one thing Bilbo knew, all difficult conversations were made that much easier with a bite to eat. Thorin had of course accepted his invitation to join him on the mountain slopes with great enthusiasm which eased Bilbo’s mind just the tiniest bit. And if this would be the last moment he would get with Thorin Oakenshield, he was bound to make the most of it.
“You’re such a gossip, Kemlek.”
“Just where exactly are you getting your information?”
“I’ve told you! My sister’s husband’s cousin is a runner in the Royal Wing. They saw the letter themselves. The wizard is coming to Erebor to collect our dear hobbit!”
Bilbo paused before backtracking through the stalls where the voices were coming from. He kept to the crowd trying not to draw attention to himself as he noticed Kemlek, Gulron, and Zhog huddled together like three wives from the Shire. They were three of the Guild Masters of Erebor, and the few times Bilbo had interacted with them, he had to reign in his annoyance. It wasn’t that they weren’t good at their jobs, but they wanted to whine at every task Thorin gave them, and had a bad habit of…well this. Whispering in corners together as if they were plotting something nefarious. Only, it was too boring and disorganized to be treason. Nori knew this best, giving up after only six hours of listening to their nattering.
Normally, Bilbo wouldn’t give them a second thought. However, it was about him, and he found his curiosity piqued.
“Good.” Gulron huffed, causing his elaborate brunette beard to jerk against his chest. “It’s about time something was done.”
Ice trailed down Bilbo’s spine as he felt the words he had been repeating to himself being given new life. No one wants him here. What was he still doing here?
“That’s if the king lets him leave.” Zhog pointed out. “He’s very…attached.”
Gulron nodded in agreement, but Kemlek scoffed.
“The King’s supposedly already on board with the idea. He wants the hobbit out of here as much as anyone. Rumors have it he’s been slipping away to the forge, if you catch my drift.”
“His Majesty has more than made things apparent.” Gulron sighed. “Just our so-called Riddlemaker failing to take a hint.”
The three burst into giggles at this, and Bilbo had taken far more than he could stomach. Ducking his head, Bilbo all but sprinted for the entrance.
***
It was the Western slopes of the mountain, Bilbo retreated to this time. Normally, he tried to find a spot where he can see the progress of Dale and the glittering surface of the Long Lake. However, now his eyes drifted past the wooded forest of Mirkwood, just making out the distant outline of the Misty Mountains. Beyond that lay home.
Bilbo took a slow bite of the apple he dug out of the basket next to him, not exactly filled with warmth at the thought. He decided it was the manner of delivery. When going home to the Shire was on his terms, he was almost longing for peace and comfort of Bag End. However, knowing that his bitter thoughts weren’t just in his head, but also on the mind of Erebor’s citizens…
“...failing to take a hint.”
Goodness knows, he got it loud and clear this time. Bilbo hung his head to rest on his crossed arms over his knees. It was almost funny. This entire time he was feeling he needed to leave Erebor soon, and now all he could think was one more day. If he could spend just one more day with him.
Bilbo reached down in his pocket to the little acorn he had yet to bring himself to plant. He twisted the seed round and round, remembering his words to Thorin instantly.
“Well little guy. I had thought maybe you would make the trip with me to the Shire. I’d put you right there in the patch next to the smial so your leaves could shelter my home as well as provide a nice shady book nook. But the truth is…if this is the way it has to be, I don’t know if I want to remember. It’s going to be hard enough as it is, without you there to remind me of him every day. But don’t worry. I’m sure Thorin will find a nice spot for you out here on the mountain. You’ll be good together. After all, you’ll be an oak and he’s Oakenshield. It’s better this way.”
“Are you talking to the acorn?”
Bilbo yelped and jumped what felt like a solid foot in the air before turning back to face Thorin. The dwarf was very amused, his mouth quirked up into a smile and his blue eyes shining brightly.
“How much did you hear?” Bilbo demanded.
“Oh enough to know you have delusions of me with that acorn.” He teased before flopping down on the checkered blanket next to Bilbo.
He could feel his face warm and tried to subtly pull at his ascot.
“Yes, well...” He coughed before abruptly changing the subject. “You’re late.”
Thorin at least had the decency to look sheepish at their now late afternoon luncheon.
“The Guild meeting ran longer than I expected. I apologize.”
Bilbo waved him off not wanting to appear bothered when he knew Thorin had duties to his kingdom. Of course, he couldn’t prioritize Bilbo. Perhaps he didn’t want to. Thorin eagerly reached over for the basket only to raise an eyebrow at its contents.
“You know, to most, a picnic is some sandwiches. Maybe some berries to snack on.”
“Not to most hobbits.” Bilbo reminded while Thorin grumbled.
His dwarves tended to do that a lot. Poke fun at his eating habits. However, Bilbo had honestly thought he had packed lightly. There were a couple of different kinds of sandwiches, some bread and cheese, scones, quiches, various kinds of fruits and veggies, and a few honeycakes for dessert. It wasn’t like he packed an entire roast. Dwarves honestly.
All the more reason he should go.
Bilbo ducked his head again as he started to toy with the acorn. Thorin either didn’t notice or chose not to comment as he tucked into his lunch with gusto. It was a sight that filled Bilbo with pride. After all, seeing someone you care for happy and well-fed was the height of hobbit comfort. Just as soon as he thought it though, a pang tore through him. He can’t be comforted by this. Not when he has to leave soon.
“Thorin…” Bilbo sighed.
“I forget sometimes…” He began at the same time. “That the outside of the mountain can be just as pretty as the inside. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to look upon this slope and see anything more than ash and desolation.”
Bilbo hummed in agreement as he noticed the wildflowers that were finally beginning to bloom as well as the birds and insects that definitely weren’t there a few months ago. The taint of Smaug had been washed away with the spring rains, and life began anew. It wasn’t the lush green of the Shire, but it was a sight Bilbo could have easily grown used to. He scanned the ground, trying to distract himself from the melancholy of having to leave it so soon.
“And look, there’s a fairy ring as well.” Bilbo pointed out the patch of mushrooms.
Thorin shook his head. “The toadstools, I could do without.”
“What?! No! It’s a very good sign! Erebor should feel honored to bear them.”
“And what sign would that be, Master Hobbit?” Thorin sighed while smiling at his smaller companion.
“They mean rebirth.” He admitted softly. “And amongst the daisies…you couldn’t ask for a better beginning.”
Thorin’s hand found its way next to Bilbo’s, and the hobbit had to resist the urge to reach out and take it for himself.
“I like the sentiment. We’ve ended our quest, and Erebor is beginning anew.”
Bilbo’s lungs hurt at the harsh breath he took as Thorin’s words threatened to shatter him completely. Ended. He truly has been a fool then.
“Gandalf sent word yesterday.” He started.
Thorin hummed, spraying crumbs as he did, much to Bilbo’s disgust.
“You’re going to attract ants.” He complained as he found himself brushing the king’s shirt off for him.
Thorin swallowed before allowing himself the chance to laugh as he reached into the basket for another honeycake.
“I think your sweet tooth is what will attract ants.”
“ I’m not the one devouring honeycakes like they might disappear.” Bilbo smirked.
Thorin continued to munch happily, and Bilbo, realizing what he was doing, quickly removed his hand from Thorin’s chest.
“Yes, well…he said he’ll be here in three days.”
“I know.” Thorin rolled his eyes. “He sent word to me as well. Said he was ‘checking in’ for what purpose, I know not. Wizards. I assumed you would most likely want to go with him.”
Bilbo shrank away, trying not to show his hurt. “You did?”
Thorin shrugged. “You seem to enjoy being out of the mountain, and I’ll worry less when you’re with the wizard.”
Something cold and rough seemed to slither its way down his throat until it latched around his heart. It was all true. Just how long had Thorin been trying to give him the hint. Bilbo’s eyes moved down to the acorn once more. He screwed his eyes shut tightly against the tears that threatened to form. Good, that was the end of that. He would just make his goodbyes and be on his way. No need to drag this out any further even as his heart felt like it would tear itself in half at any moment.
“Bilbo? Are you alright?” Thorin asked softly, laying his large hand on Bilbo’s shoulder.
He needed to remain strong. He would hate to make Thorin uncomfortable any more over his silly feelings than he probably already was. Bilbo nodded, far too hard, but he couldn’t stop himself.
“I’m fine.” He gasped, trying to keep his voice even. “Thank you. For being honest with me. I’ve been without my books, my armchair, and my gardens long enough.”
Bilbo stood and dusted himself, feeling far too restless to remain sitting there next to his heart’s desire and knowing he could never have him.
“Besides, I can imagine you’ll be pleased not having a hobbit under foot anymore as you continue to get Erebor up and running. Of course, you and the Company are more than welcome to come visit me in the Shire. Tea time is at four…don’t bother knocking.”
Chuckling, he decided he finally felt brave enough to face Thorin. The dwarf was frozen. Bilbo would almost accuse him of blending in with the stone he was so very fond of if it wasn’t for the shifting, searching blue eyes alight upon his person.
“What?” Thorin finally managed.
Bilbo felt himself deflate. He had rather hoped they would keep this cordial.
“You don’t have to accept. I know you would rather be here in your mountain. I was…just being polite.”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his head when he was once again reminded of the acorn.
“Oh! And here. I’d like for you to keep this.” Bilbo smiled sadly as he pushed the acorn in Thorin’s hand.
The dwarf stared down at it numbly, and Bilbo wondered if he was remembering that moment so long ago before the battle as well.
“And every time I look at it, I’ll remember. Remember everything that happened. The good, the bad, and how lucky I am that I made it home.”
Thorin’s hand began to shake as it slowly curled around the acorn. Something warm began to blossom in his chest at the idea that Thorin would keep the acorn as a reminder. He would go with Thorin’s friendship at the very least. And then a loud, audible crack stole that warm away. Thorin’s hand opened, and the acorn fell to land on the blanket in pieces. Bilbo let out a wordless cry as he fell to his knees to inspect it closely. It seemed Thorin had merely broken the cap off when Bilbo turned it over to see the splintered gash. A single tear rolled down his cheek before he could stop it, and his vision blurred with the prospect of more. He had carried it for so long, and now it won’t grow. He would never see it become an oak.
“I care not for your poor consolation prize. ” Thorin growled, his voice cold and sharp like the mountain air.
There was once a time where Bilbo would have crumbled under such barbs from Thorin Oakenshield. However, that was long ago before orcs, before spiders, before being threatened with a hand at his throat.
“You’re cruel.” Bilbo sobbed through gritted teeth. “You can’t even set your pride aside long enough for us to part as friends?!”
Thorin flinched as if he had been struck. However, Bilbo knew very well from the set of his jaw that he had merely scraped the tip of Thorin’s anger.
“After conspiring with the wizard against me? Some friend you are.”
Ah, so that was it then. What still stood between them denying Bilbo any prospect of a home within the mountain. The Arkenstone. Perhaps it always would. Sure, Thorin locked the gem away in the heart of the treasury, but Bilbo’s treachery clearly remained at the forefront of his mind. He had either been delirious with pain or grudgingly obligated after Bilbo saved his life when he chose to forgive him. He never meant it. Something petty and broken inside of him refused to let Thorin get the last word though no matter how badly he wanted to turn around and pack right that second.
“Goodbye, Your Majesty.” Bilbo sneered. “I hope there is enough gold in Erebor to fill even your cold heart.”
That should have been the end of it. They would each stomp back to their corners of the mountain, and Bilbo would be counting down the seconds until Gandalf came to save him. However, something green sparkled in front of Bilbo, catching him off guard. It seemed Thorin was equally distracted as what looked to be hundreds of fireflies came out of seemingly nowhere. Wait, that wasn’t quite right, they seemed concentrated somewhere on the ground…Bilbo gasped to see the sparkling lights spilling from the broken acorn. As they grew in quantity and speed, Bilbo became aware of another fact. His arm hairs were standing on end. He had experienced this before. In Rivendell and again in Mirkwood. It felt like…
“Magic.” He breathed just before the world around him became one big burst of green.