Bilbo Baggins is not a fearful Hobbit. Nor is he a shy, timid one, for that matter. He thinks he has rather proved that throughout this entire unbelievable journey, from being deranged enough to leave his home, to facing a dragon, countless orcs, giant spiders, and whatnot.
And yet, he finds himself lingering in front of a simple, harmless door, hesitant to knock, as if he is about to face a beast far worse than Smaug.
He had never thought that the hardest part of it all would be leaving and saying goodbye.
Several weeks have passed since the Battle of the Five Armies, and Erebor has been slowly coming back to life. To Bilbo's utmost relief, all the members of the Company have preserved well through the battle, having only minor scrapes and cuts to pride themselves with in the aftermath.
Thorin had given them a scare, after he had passed out after his duel with Azog, out of which he came out victorious, but it was nothing that a few days of bedrest and Óin's questionable bedside manners could not fix. Bilbo spent those days by his side, feeling compelled to keep the King company as he recovered.
Since then, Bilbo pretty much had nothing else to do around Erebor, as rebuilding and clean-ups commenced. Of course, he has been helping around, but he mostly gets in the way of the more proficient Dwarves. So, he chooses to rather hang out with Ori in the library or with Bombur in the kitchens instead. Thorin sometimes invites him to participate with him in meetings with Thranduil and Bard, but Bilbo is not an avid fan of politics. He does not have much to say, but he joins Thorin nonetheless, just because it would mean spending time in the King's presence.
After Thorin had apologised for his behaviour before the battle and asked for Bilbo's forgiveness, they have been getting along better than ever. In other circumstances, had it not been for the gold sickness and other… factors, Bilbo would have long headed back home, without even caring about what the King has to say to him. He did his job, and he did not do it for Thorin Oakenshield or his gold.
Except that he actually did. Not for the gold, of course, but for what the gold meant: the Dwarven people's home and legacy. But mainly, he did do it for Thorin. Somewhere along the way, Thorin's leadership, passion, and unwavering loyalty have seduced him. The result? Him facing a dragon for Thorin. Him running to Ravenhill through an entire army of orcs, to warn Thorin and his nephews of Azog's other army. Him distracting Azog enough for Thorin to finish the blasted orc off. How could he not forgive Thorin? It would have been impossible not to forgive him, his heart would not have allowed it.
In other words, he is still in Erebor, reluctant to leave, because of Thorin. And the Company, of course. He will miss them all terribly. But Thorin, especially. For reasons that have been clear to him for some time. It is far from an appropriate thing, but he has come to terms with it.
He had set himself a limit. A deadline. His job and duty to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield would officially be terminated the moment a crown is set upon Thorin's head, in a legit ceremony. It would only be logical, would it not? A coronation would most certainly fulfil his purpose of helping the Dwarves reclaim their ancestral home. So, Bilbo had promised himself he would head home after that happens.
The thing is, the coronation already took place a couple of nights ago, and since then, Bilbo has been trying to find the right moment to mention his intentions to the Company, or to Thorin himself. It is not like he looks forward to his departure, or even wishes to return to Bag End. He loves Erebor and the Company, and he was shocked to discover weeks ago that the feeling of homesickness has dulled in time, and is now almost non-existent.
But why would such a homely Hobbit like him remain and dwell in a mountain? It would be unheard of. Adventuring is one thing, his mother had done it, and a few other Hobbits before him—mostly Tooks, of course—but all Hobbit adventurers have always returned home. Settling in Erebor is completely against Hobbitish nature.
Besides, there is also the matter of him overstaying his welcome, since his presence here is now as useless as wet tobacco. The weather pushes on as well, he should leave before the real snowstorms start clogging the roads. It is indeed time for him to go back to Bag End.
The King is the first who should know of his intention to leave. He might as well have chosen Balin or Bofur as the first people to hear of it, but deep down, he knows that he cares most about what Thorin has to say about it.
So, he finally finds the strength to knock upon the door to Thorin's chambers, heart beating fast.
There's muffled noise coming from inside the room, before the door opens, a kingly dressed Thorin on the other side of it. Bilbo's breath catches in his throat when his eyes meet the King's steel blue ones.
"Bilbo!" the Dwarf exclaims, moving aside. "I was not expecting you. Come in," he says, welcoming Bilbo with a smile that the Hobbit cannot help but return just as warmly.
From the looks of it, Thorin had been buried knee-deep in paperwork before Bilbo interrupted his afternoon. His desk is a mess, pieces of parchment stacked haphazardly, drops of ink on the sparse patches of free wooden surface.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything… I can come back later if you're busy—" Bilbo says, involuntarily looking for a way out of the impending discussion.
"Nonsense, I was long overdue for a break anyway," Thorin declares, with a dismissing wave of his hand. He turns his back to Bilbo, attempting to organise his desk, as if he does not want Bilbo noticing his orderliness, or lack thereof. "Take a seat. What brings you to me this fine afternoon?" he asks, giving up on the collapsing stack of papers. He leans against the desk, facing Bilbo with an encouraging smile etched on his elegant features.
Bilbo takes a seat in an armchair near the desk. He considers bringing up his issue right away, but that stands against his principles. Besides, he wants to prolong his time with Thorin, even though the King probably has duties that await him. The messy desk is more than enough proof of that.
"How have you been? I've seen very little of you since the coronation," Bilbo says, going for small talk.
"True. This desk and chair have seen a lot of me since then, and let me tell you, they do not make for good companions. I did not know that taking back the throne would involve this much bureaucracy, otherwise I would have let Smaug keep it."
Bilbo chuckles. "I'm sure Erebor appreciates having a leader who doesn't breathe fire, though."
Thorin's smile widens into a grin. "It might appreciate it indeed. But I'm fairly certain you're not here to check on my progress with paperwork. Unless Balin has sent you to do so?"
Shaking his head softly, Bilbo fiddles with the buttons of his coat. "No," he says nervously, avoiding Thorin's eyes, "Balin didn't send me."
Thorin raises an eyebrow, expecting a more concrete reply. "I'm glad for your visit nonetheless, Bilbo," the King tells him, on a tone Bilbo knows is meant to coax out the real reason behind said visit. When Bilbo fails to say anything, he continues. "But tell me, my friend, what is on your mind?"
Bilbo takes a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
"Well, it's been quite a while since the battle." Almost two months, two months he has happily spent in Erebor, being with his friends, watching the Mountain come back to life.
He thinks about it all again. There's nothing keeping him here, he has done his job, the Mountain and the treasure are Thorin's, exactly as they planned nearly a year ago in Bag End. He lingered in the aftermath, and he should return home, since there is virtually no reason for him to remain here.
Except… home is where the heart is, after all. His heart is definitely not in Bag End anymore, but with the very Dwarf before him. However, his fervent infatuation with Thorin, for he does not yet dare to call it love, is not a good enough reason to pursue longer residence in Erebor. Not when he knows his feelings will not ever be returned.
All those weeks, he has illogically raked his brains, trying to find a plausible excuse, but he has come up with nothing. This was bound to happen, in the end, anyway. "So, I've been thinking of heading back home."
Thorin stills. The kind smile on his face vanishes slowly. "If that is what you wish, I shall make the arrangements. However, I must remind you that you are more than welcome to stay in Erebor for as long as you desire. You have forever earned your place amongst us, and I—we would be saddened by your departure."
Bilbo's heart thumps painfully in his chest. This is what he has been fearing. Thorin encouraging him to stay, even though it is a shallow request, with no true reason behind it. He finds himself wanting to say 'yes, yes, of course I'll stay,' but that certainly is not the appropriate answer.
He bows his head in gratitude. "Thank you, Thorin, but I feel it's time to return to Bag End."
Thorin nods once, face stern and purged of any emotion. "Very well. You will have to make haste, unfortunately, if you wish to depart while the weather still allows it. There are reports of great blizzards approaching from the North."
"Yes, I am aware," Bilbo simply says, not knowing what else to add.
A pregnant pause settles between them. Thorin lowers his head, as if he is silently considering something, while Bilbo continues fiddling with his buttons, pulling so harshly that he almost rips them away from the cloth.
"Is there anything else you wished to tell me?" Thorin asks after a while, adopting a more serious tone. Bilbo has spent enough time near him to know that this is akin to his kingly voice of authority. A mask he puts on for his subjects.
"No, that's all, I think," Bilbo replies weakly, avoiding Thorin's eyes. He stands up, deeming this to be the end of the conversation. "Thank you again, Thorin. I'll leave you to your paperwork." And he turns toward the door.
"Master Baggins!" Thorin calls out to him, straightening up and stepping forward.
Bilbo turns on his heels so fast that he almost loses balance, heart instantly feeling with hope. Realising that Thorin did not use a more familiar way of addressing him, part of his hope is instantly crushed. "Yes?" he asks, voice almost breaking, brimming with anticipation.
"I hope you know that you are welcome to visit Erebor, at any time, whenever you wish," comes Thorin's reply, with a formal intonation that seems thoroughly impersonal.
Letting disappointment flow through him, unable to stop it, Bilbo bites his lip. "Of course I shall visit, you won't get rid of me that easily," he says, attempting light humour in spite of his heart starting to break.
"Good," Thorin states. "I'll see you at dinner, then," he adds, lifting the corner of his lips ever so slightly, formality fading from his voice. Bilbo returns the gesture with a small smile of his own.
The Hobbit finally takes his leave, hurrying back to his room with a heavy heart. He has a lot to pack.
Fíli and Kíli take the news much worse than the rest of the Company. They protest vehemently, and when Bilbo ignores them, still set on making preparations for his departure, they even sneak into his room and unpack everything that Bilbo had carefully arranged up until then. Thorin had chastised them, but they seemed unapologetic when faced with the consequences of their childish actions. Ultimately, they did apologise to Bilbo, and still begged him not to leave just yet, to winter here at least. They teared up when Bilbo shook his head.
Bofur simply looked at him with sadness, nodding and understanding. Bilbo never told him of his feelings, but he thinks that Bofur has known all along, somehow. He hugged Bilbo publicly when he announced that he would leave. During the friendly embrace, Bilbo accidentally made eye contact with Thorin, and noticed something tense and fierce in the King's expression. Bilbo didn't know what to make of it.
When he heard of Bilbo's plans, Bombur went out of his way to put together supplies for Bilbo, loading many satchels with dried meat and fruit, bread, along with other snacks. Bilbo almost teared up when Bombur showed him the carefully-prepared food, the larger Dwarf enveloping him in a bone-crushing embrace.
Ori was affected by the news as well, making Bilbo swear he would visit soon, as well as obtaining permission to stop by Bag End whenever he and his brothers would have business in Ered Luin. Bilbo was delighted to see that all the other Dwarves requested the very same permission afterwards, and he obviously encouraged them all to use it.
As a matter of fact, all the members of the Company make efforts to spend as much time as possible with Bilbo in his final days in Erebor. Even Dwalin puts aside his cold demeanour to sharpen Bilbo's blade and offer him advice should he encounter beasts in the wilderness. Bilbo is not sure he needs that advice anymore, after all he's been through, but he appreciates the gesture anyway.
Óin provides him with medical supplies, then gives him a thorough check-up before deeming him fit for the journey; Balin takes him aside one evening, and they have a long talk, as though they are old friends who have not seen each other in a long time; Bofur gifts him three small wooden figurines sculpted by him, one of Bilbo himself, one of Smaug, and one of Thorin—the last one makes him blush a bit, wondering about Bofur's reasoning; and Nori does what he claims is the kindest gesture possible, returning all the small tokens and belongings he had nicked from Bilbo over the course of the year, things that Bilbo had not even noticed went missing.
That makes ten. Ten companions who have bid their farewells to Bilbo in their own way. Their party, however, has always counted eleven Dwarves. And it seems like the eleventh one is actively avoiding Bilbo, for some reason.
Bilbo catches on almost immediately, but chooses not to do anything about. He busies himself with the preparations, refusing to dwell on the fact that Thorin barely greets him at mealtimes and stopped inviting him to meetings or their usual walks together around Erebor. It bothers him, of course, it goes without saying.
The only time Thorin approaches him between their talk in his office and the day of his parting, he does so with the intention of discussing business. Thorin calls him to the treasury one morning, a small chest overflowing with gold and jewels placed his feet.
"I know you have decided to give your share of the treasure to Bard and his people so that they could rebuild Dale. That was very kind of you, but I simply cannot let you leave without some part of it, however small it might be. I know you will not take more than this, and that you will want to refuse it, but it would offend us if you did so. This is my legacy, our people's pride, that you wish to refuse. We do not hoard it for its materialistic value, but because it is our craft, our calling, our essence. Do me the honour of accepting it, Bilbo."
And Bilbo does, even though it is not an easy thing to carry all across Middle Earth, even though he does not truly need that ridiculous amount of gold. But it is a part of Thorin, so he gladly accepts it.
The day he set for leaving comes far too soon. He wakes up at the crack of dawn, disappointed by the chill in the air. It is as if the wind and sky itself fight against him, trying to prevent him from leaving. But what is established, is established.
He'll be traveling on his own to Dale, and from there on, one of Bard's men will escort him to Mirkwood. Thranduil also ensured him safe passage through his domain, and he's supposed to meet Beorn at the other end of it, who offered to see him safely to Rivendell. Gandalf will await him there, and travel with him all the way back to the Shire.
He takes his luggage, and helped by Dwalin, he loads it onto the pony that will be carrying it. They walk together to the gates of Erebor, where nine other Dwarves are solemnly waiting for him.
Fíli and Kíli have tears in their eyes, still quite upset about Bilbo's decision. They hug Bilbo anyway, with all their might, and promise to visit as soon as they had the chance. He receives similar hugs and promises from all the other Dwarves, but none of them coming from the Dwarf he truly wants to embrace.
He discreetly asks Balin about Thorin's whereabouts, but the old Dwarf simply shakes his head, adopting an expression of regret, as if Thorin being there was his responsibility. It most certainly was not. Thorin's absence can only have to do with Bilbo, if they have to do with anything. But Bilbo does not know what he did wrong, what he did to offend the King in such a manner that he will not even utter a simple goodbye.
He wished he could have at least seen Thorin for one last time. To memorise the kingly features, the kind blue eyes, the elegant line of his nose, the soft-looking dark tresses resting on his broad shoulders, so he could recall them vividly in his reveries and dreams.
He wished he had the guts to confess his feelings. But he knows he is just an ordinary Hobbit, who should have no business aspiring at a royal's love, a royal who is not even of the opposite gender, who is not even part of his own race. It is perhaps better that he did not face complete heartbreak by confessing, it would have been his end.
With a heavier heart than ever and tears welling up in his eyes as well, he grasps the reins of his pony tightly, preparing himself to walk away. To walk away from the only love he has ever known, who has not even given him a chance to say farewell.
After all goodbyes are said, he steps out the gate.