Chapter Text
Bilbo sighed.
The plan had gone reasonably well, though Bilbo hadn’t taken into consideration Thorin .
Of course, he had realised that Thorin would eventually awaken from the gold-induced madness and he had assumed he’d join the battle alongside the Company. (This was based on the hope that the other dwarrows wouldn’t completely disregard him and would follow Bilbo’s lead despite Thorin’s condition.)
What he hadn’t accounted for was the fact that Thorin was a sacrificial idiot who spent half his time brooding over past mistakes and the other half worrying about mistakes he hadn’t yet made but could potentially commit in a thousand possible futures .
No, correction. Bilbo had known that—he’d figured it out within the first two days of their journey, and it had been consistently reaffirmed throughout their time together.
So, Bilbo really should have added to his letter a note that Thorin absolutely must, under penalty of facing a very angry hobbit , wear proper armour before heading into battle.
Bilbo had underestimated the importance of that detail, and now Thorin, Fili, and Kili were all unconscious.
“Lad, you should rest too,” Óin said, giving him a gentle tap on the arm, trying to coax him away from Kili’s side, where he was tending to his injuries.
“I’ll rest when they wake up,” Bilbo replied stubbornly.
“It’s not your fault they’re here,” Óin shook his head. “Punishing yourself for it doesn’t make any sense. If you hadn’t done what you did, none of us would still be here. Not a single one.”
“I have to do something , Óin,” Bilbo muttered. “Otherwise, I might as well just go back to the Shire and stop being a burden to all of you.”
“What was that, lad?” Óin feigned adjusting his hearing aid. “You know my ears aren’t what they used to be, Bilbo—you’ll need to speak up.”
Bilbo simply rolled his eyes. “You hear better than I do, Óin. That little act of yours doesn’t fool me anymore.” Then, shaking his head, he added, “I’m not planning to return to the Shire, Óin, calm down.”
“Good, because that would be downright absurd !” Óin nodded firmly.
“At least, not until Thorin, Fili, and Kili wake up,” Bilbo murmured. “Then we’ll see from there.”
Óin groaned under his breath before giving Bilbo a light shove. “If you wear yourself out with all this pressure, you’ll be of no use to me, Bilbo. Go and rest a bit. Come back refreshed.”
Bilbo rolled his eyes, already feeling weary of Óin’s mother-hen tendencies.
“Fine, but I’m doing this under protest, just so you know,” Bilbo huffed. “And don’t let the Iron Hills dwarves near Thorin or the lads! I’ve seen them confuse belladonna with mint!”
Óin snorted and gave Bilbo another push, sending him out of the medical tent.
***
After washing off the stale smell of medicine, Bilbo sat down to enjoy the meal Bombur had brought him.
“Ah, there you are, laddie.”
Bilbo narrowed his eyes, spotting Balin and Ori approaching. “Balin. I didn’t know you were looking for me.”
“I stopped by the medical tent, but Óin told me he’d finally convinced you to step away from Thorin’s side to freshen up a bit,” Balin said with a small cough. “No one expects much from you under the circumstances , but I thought you’d like to know Thorin’s out of danger now.”
“So are Fili and Kili,” Bilbo added. “I patched them up as best I could right after the battle, while we waited for the eagles, and now they’re well on the mend.”
Balin’s eyes widened, and he exchanged a look with Ori.
“What?” Bilbo asked.
“Nothing, it’s just…” Balin hesitated, his voice tinged with wonder. “Knowing that you’re willing to keep going , even after everything that’s happened with Thorin—it’s remarkable to see.”
“Everything that’s happened with Thorin?” Bilbo shook his head. “Whatever words or actions Thorin—” Bilbo hadn’t forgotten the dwarf’s attempt to trap him in the mountain during the battle, but he’d decided to let it slide until Thorin woke up to face a proper scolding, “—aren’t a reflection of who Thorin is. He was sick. I can’t blame someone for sneezing during a cold, so I certainly can’t fault him for acting differently under a far stronger illness of the mind.”
Balin and Ori both smiled.
“It’s a relief,” Balin sighed. “I was worried, given the circumstances… But, well, since you’re set on carrying on, it’ll make things easier for the rest of us.”
“What are you talking about?” Bilbo frowned.
“The peace negotiations,” Balin said. “Thranduil and Bard are eager to finalise the treaties as soon as possible.”
“ Thorin must decide on the treaties. No one else can presume to speak for his people,” Bilbo said firmly.
“Aye,” Balin agreed. “But Thorin trusts you, and Dain had nothing but praise for the decisions you made during the preparations for the battle against the orcs.”
Bilbo pressed his lips together.
Óin sending him out, only for Balin and Ori to find him? It was beginning to feel like a trap .
“Fine,” Bilbo sighed. “I suppose I can offer my input as a hobbit. But let me make one thing clear: I’ll still be spending plenty of time— a lot of time—with Thorin and the lads!”
“Of course, laddie,” Balin said with a smile and a nod. “No one would dream of keeping you away.”