Strong

"If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world. But, sad or merry, I must leave it now. Farewell." Thorin Oakenshield

Bilbo felt empty. Like his heart had been torn out from within his chest. He felt like he was missing a vital part of himself - a part of himself he feared he would never get back. He stared at Thorin's cold unmoving body and his heart froze. The dwarf's deep blue eyes no longer flickered with light, instead they were blank like the pages of an unwritten book.

Bilbo had never fully realized how much he had cared for the King under the Mountain until the dwarf had been cruelly, stolen away. It pained him now that he would never get the chance to tell the dwarf just how much he had truly meant. Bilbo stared at his share of the treasure, his heart sank, he would have sacrificed all the treasure in the world to steal one more moment with Thorin.

Bilbo's eyes ventured over to Thorin's right where the bodies of his nephews lay still and unmoving. Fili and Kili had died protecting their injured uncle - they had died hero's deaths. Yet Bilbo couldn't help but think that this would be no condolence to their mother who had lost both her sons and her brother in one single battle.

The wind wisped through the misty mountains at such a strength that the Hobbit was nearly blown of his feet. Bilbo wiped a tear from his cheek whilst subconsciously searching his pocket for his absent handkerchief. Bilbo pulled back his tears. Thorin had once called him to be strong - it was about time he lived up to it.

The fire crackled and red embers flew upwards with the grey smoke. Thorin warmed his hands over the flame, shedding his thick fur cloak and laying back against a fallen branch. Bilbo watched him carefully, snuggling tighter into his own cloak whilst turning his skewered meat over the flame.

"Do you miss it?" Thorin asked "Do you miss home?"

Bilbo was taken aback by the question. Thorin hadn't seemed to take much interest in him before now. Bilbo had always felt that the dwarf saw him as a nuisance. "Miss home?" Bilbo sighed "No more than you miss yours i'm sure,"

"I'm sorry, that you have had to travel all this way for us," Thorin mused. "I don't think you quite understood what you were getting yourself into when you signed that piece of paper,"

"I didn't, If I had known then, I probably wouldn't have came," Bilbo chuckled to himself. "To a hobbit, the prospect leaving you're home to fight goblins and trolls is most unsatisfactory. But I think that it's all been worth it. I've made many a friends, I've seen elves and I've climbed mountains with dwarves. And I've met you..."

Bilbo's cheeks flushed scarlett. He hadn't meant to say it. It had slipped of his tongue as easily as a sword through flesh. Thorin's brow contorted, he was taken aback by the hobbit's comment. "I'm glad to have met you too," Thorin answered. "I may not say so enough, but you are a good friend. Not many would left their home to fight dragons and trolls alike. You are stronger than you think,"

Strong. Bilbo certainly didn't feel it now, standing weeping over three broken bodies. The hobbit felt a hand on his shoulder, her turned to face it's owner. Standing tall and garbed in grey, stood Gandalf. His aging face was contorted into a saddened smile.

"Dear Bilbo, I believe it is time for you to leave this place," Gandalf spoke. "It is about time you saw the comforting walls of you're homely little hobbit hole,"

Bilbo thought of his hobbit hole for one moment. The plentiful larders and the warm crackling fires did sound comforting. Bilbo let out one long sigh and took one last glance at Thorin. His eyes empty of tears, He felt strong enough to finally say it, to utter those last final words.

"Goodbye Thorin, king under the Mountain,"