Chapter 8: Story Time

The next couple of days blended together. Bilbo was allowed to move around more and eventually allowed to take a couple of steps outside as long as he had someone with him. Members of the company would come in and out of the tent, telling them stories of how things were coming along in Dale, and how Thranduil was staying to help at the insistence of his son, Legolas. It was a slow process, and Bilbo knew it would be an even longer process for the dwarves to fully accept help from the elfs without complaint, if it ever happened. Bard came to visit at one point, thanking Bilbo for his help despite his protests that he didn’t do much. However, every night ended the same for the hobbit. Bilbo would sit at Thorin’s side after Fili and Kili had fallen asleep, holding one of his hands between both of his own smaller ones. He didn’t quite pray, but he would quietly tell stories of the Shire to Thorin, hoping the dwarf could hear him and come back to them. He just needed to see those piercing blue eyes again, with the fire behind them that Bilbo had grown to love over the journey.

On the fifth night, as he was getting ready to climb back into his cot, he patted the top of Thorin’s hand. He barely felt it, but he could’ve sworn Thorin’s fingers twitched in his hands. He sat for another moment, breath caught in his throat. When he felt a small squeeze, his heart almost lept out of his chest. He stood up swiftly, causing the chair he was in to tumble backwards. He heard Fili and Kili rouse from their sleep, but paid no attention to them as he hobbled as fast as he could, almost slipping in the mud. Before he even opened the flap to the tent he began calling out, “Someone get Oin! We- it’s- it’s Thorin! I think he’s waking up!” Once he had fully made it outside, he saw one of the guards standing at the tent take off in search of Oin.

Bilbo went back inside the tent, going to stand at Thorin’s cot. Fili and Kili were fully awake now, propping themselves up to get a better look at their Uncle. Oin and Dwalin practically barrelled into the tent, asking Bilbo a million questions. “I was, I was just telling him stories before going to bed, and his hand twitched! He..” Bilbo tried to fight the flush in his cheeks, but knew he would have to tell them everything for them to believe him. “I was holding his hand, and he squeezed mine! I swear to you, it happened!” He refused to look up from Thorin’s face, kneeling at his side and holding his hand again, ignoring the mud staining his trousers. He could hear Dwalin telling the princes to lay back down, while Oin began prodding at Thorin, looking for a reaction. It was all drowned out to him, focusing only on the dwarf who laid still in his cot. Oin sighed, unable to find anything suggesting that Thorin was coming to, “I’m sorry laddie, but I think you were just imaginin’ it.” Bilbo looked up, tears welling in his eyes as Oin and Dwalin started to walk out.

“No! I couldn’t have, I promise! Look, I’ll show you, please just stay.” Bilbo waited a moment, watching as Dwalin’s shoulders slumped but he still decided to sit down on Bilbo’s cot, nodding his head to indicate to the hobbit that he was ready to watch. He turned back to Thorin, and began to stammer out another story. He started talking about the Fell Winter, how the river had frozen over and wolves made their way into Hobbiton. Fili and Kili had started listening intently, always interested in the small tidbits of Bilbo’s life that he would sometimes share with them. Bilbo wasn’t sure when it started, but he could feel his tears dropping onto his hands, which were clutching onto Thorin’s like an anchor. He told him about how he and his father were checking on his younger cousins, when a lone wolf cornered them. He could hear his voice shaking as he talked about how his father told Bilbo to run before watching the wolf lunge at his father, streaking the pristine snow with his blood. Just as he was starting to believe that maybe it had been his imagination, he felt Thorin squeeze his hand again, watching as the dwarf’s eyes fluttered open.

Thorin looked around before locking his eyes onto Bilbo, his voice raspy as he spoke. “I am deeply sorry, Bilbo.” He coughed, throat dry from disuse. Bilbo couldn’t help the choked laughs that broke out, unable to believe what he was seeing. He could hear Fili and Kili yelling in excitement while Dwalin barked orders at the guards to get the rest of the company, but all he was focused on were those blue eyes. His laughs turned into quiet sobs, putting his head down to bump his forehead to their hands, still holding onto Thorin. Thorin squeezed his hand tighter, almost as if urging the hobbit to look at him. Bilbo picked his head up, looking at Thorin through watery eyes. They smiled at each other, and it took everything in Bilbo to not leap up and kiss the stupid dwarf. It must’ve shown on his face, as he saw a look of longing flash through Thorin’s eyes before Oin began to fuss over him.  He moved to get out of Oin’s way, before he was stopped by Thorin croaking out, “No! Stay, please.” He glanced at Oin for approval, as the older dwarf nodded with a smirk on his face. He wasn’t sure when they all came in, but he could hear the company snicker at the duo, before feeling Balin nudge a chair behind him. He pushed himself out of the mud, his legs aching as he sat down.

Bilbo held onto Thorin’s hand the entire time Oin was checking him, only letting go when Oin had to unwrap the bandage hiding the worst of his injuries. Normally, the Baggins in him would be too polite to watch, but the part of him that he found during the journey wanted to drink in the sight. He had only caught glimpses of Thorin’s skin before, when he would catch himself watching the dwarf strip before going to bathe in whatever body of water they found that night. Watching this was different though, as the chest that was once just covered in hair, tattoos, and small battle scars had been almost completely shaved to stitch the large stab wound in the center of his torso. He looked away as Oin started to poke at the stitches, making Thorin grunt in pain. “Well, there’s no obvious sign of infection, and it’s not bleedin’ anymore. Bein’ laid up in this cot has helped plenty, but don’t take that to mean you can get up anytime soon.” Oin finished his prodding with a satisfied nod, moving to grab a clean bandage.

Thorin turned his head to look at Bilbo once again, taking in as much as he could. The hobbit looked almost the same as Thorin had last seen him, but now he had a rosy flush to his cheeks, and a warmth behind his green eyes that Thorin had been missing. He tried to speak again but was cut off by a deep cough. Oin had returned with the bandage and some pillows, helping prop Thorin up so he could rewrap his torso easier. Bilbo grabbed the cup that sat on the table between their cots, moving to help Thorin drink some water. Once the cup was empty, he cleared his throat before addressing the tent, “How have arrangements come along for the others?”

Balin shook his head at the king before responding, “Everything is going smoothly. You let us worry about that while you heal, Mahal knows you need it.” The older dwarf held up his hand before Thorin could protest, as if he were still a student. “Don’t even try to argue, you’ve only just woken up and can barely move. Save your strength and worry about yourself and your nephews. We will come to you as needed.” At the mention of the boys, Thorin craned his head to look at them. Fili’s head wrap was still making his hair bunch up, and he could see him straining to keep his eyes open against the lamp light. Kili looked to be in better shape, smiling brightly at his uncle. He turned to look at Bilbo as the hobbit whispered to him, “They’ve been awake for a couple of days now, they’re getting stronger thanks to Oin and the elfs.” Thorin sneered at the mention of elfs, not wanting to even think about accepting their help. He dropped it when Bilbo’s soft look turned stern as he continued, “I know you don’t like them but it’s thanks to them that you and your nephews are still alive. Oin couldn’t be at your side all the time, and it was Tauriel and Prince Legolas that found them to begin with.” Thorin dropped his head back onto his pillow as Bilbo sighed. “They’ve helped a lot, and apparently it was Tauriel that saved me as well. Kili said something about one of the other medical elfs not wanting to waste time on me, so I am very grateful for her.” He watched as Bilbo waved his hand around as he talked, feeling the weight of his eyelids as they started to droop close. He could hear Oin ushering the company back out of the tent, but could only focus on Bilbo patting his hand as he told him goodnight. He fell asleep with a grin on his face.