I don't own the Hobbit or any of Tolkien's works. I made this because I have the sudden urge to write about Thorin, his harp and Bilbo.
Music into the night
by Anki Shai
It was deep into the dark night.
The fire was all but extinguished now and there was only the sound of the wind and the whisper of the leaves on the trees. He rested his back against an old tree, his eyes glancing at the sky and the shadowy figure of the Solitary Mountain. By this time tomorrow they would be there.
Thorin Oakenshield could feel it. He could almost taste and smell the familiar scent of stone and earth. He could almost sense the familiarity he had forgone for so many years. Finally, he would be home.
Thorin lowered his gaze, his hand grabbing the golden harp that had been his companion just as much as Balin had been with him. His eyes focused on the golden forms decorating the frame. He could feel his heart beating fast, his hands twitching with excitement as he thought of the melody playing inside his head.
But, what really seemed to be stirring a fire in him, what really seemed to move him to play was the sigh of their personal burglar.
Bilbo Baggins of the Shire.
Why?
Thorin wouldn't be able to answer that question.
The Hobbit had been both, a nuisance and a great help from the very moment they took him on this adventure. And yet…yet, the young Hobbit had earned the respect and affection of all the members of the company.
Lifting his eyes, with apprehension and defiance, Thorin watched as Bilbo stirred in his sleep stretching his right hand that hit Kili on his chest. Fili, who was sleeping at the other side of the Hobbit threw his own arm around Bilbo's abdomen. The three of them sleeping with open mouths, calm expression on their faces and sleeping without making any kind of sound the way Bofur and Dwalin seemed to be doing.
Thorin, for some strange reason, felt a tug in his heart. Was it the sight of his nephews so close to Bilbo? Was it because he felt envious they were so close to each other? Like best friends, brothers…something else?
Scowling the young prince turned around a snort escaping his lips, "Nonsense."
But the tug, the sudden pain that accompanied, didn't go and the only thing Thorin could think of was the harp.
Once again, and against his better judgment he started playing.
His hand struck the instrument and the music began. In the middle of the night and with not sound whatsoever, the sweet melody of the golden instrument filled the valley.
It was a marvelous sound, sweet and entrancing recalling better times, precious stones and promises of a better future. The music spoke of what had been lost and what will be recovered. The sudden changed in rhythm announced of new hopes, of the end of a journey and the rest of the soul and the heart.
Thorin's fingers moved with precision and mastery, he took each no0te to the next level pouring his unsaid feelings into every note telling with music what he wasn't capable to say with words.
It was then when he noticed them
A pair of eyes into the night.
Glistening with the moon inside them, watching with something the young prince could not describe and was quite uncomfortable to decipher.
But even under such an intense stare he didn't stop and continue. The music dancing around in changing melodies inviting those curious eyes to observe, daring them to see beyond the simple notes of a song to actually see what the Dwarf playing them was trying to say. To show.
Bilbo Baggins felt it. It was like that first time he heard the sound of the harp, those unknown moons and mountains, those palaces and better times and there, in the middle of all of this, he saw it. A fire burning deep inside Thorin's eyes, a passion that could not and should not be undisclosed until the right time. For how long had Thorin denied the desires of his heart, of his mind, for his dreams? For his goals? For the heritage he was so stubbornly trying to reclaim?
Bilbo gasped when he realized the music had stopped and he was, once again, in the middle of a valley with the Solitary Mountain behind him giving an spectral shadow. He stared at Thorin once again and he was watching him back.
Thorin felt his heart beating faster, felt the same tug on his chest, the sharp pain accompanied by a tingling feeling on his chest and abdomen. Then he realized none of this could be possible. Not now, not yet. If ever.
Bilbo saw the moment those eyes lost the sudden hope moments ago had been glistening there. He saw as something inside Thorin broke, he wanted to stand up to go to him and help in any way he could. It was the sharp intake of breath and the shake of Thorin's head what stopped him.
Thorin looked aside, ashamed of his own feelings.
Bilbo observed and then the music was back. Bittersweet and sad, filled with a mixture of desperation and loneliness Bilbo didn't remember from before. His eyes stayed on Thorin until, without even realizing it, he felt asleep once more.
It wouldn't be until he was about to leave that Bilbo would discover it. The golden harp of Thorin wrapped in dark blue silk under his belongings. Bilbo felt a lump on his throat, his fingertips brushing lightly the instrument while tears seemed to obscure his vision.
English isn't my native language so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistake. Hope you enjoy it.