Needless to say, I do not own anything related to The Hobbit, Lord of The Rings, any of J.R.R. Tolkien's works, or Peter Jackson's versions.
To See Darkness
Thorin glowered from his throne, surrounded by dwarves from the Iron Hills all vying for his attention and his favor but he could see no one from his own company. Without acknowledging any of the clamoring courtesans, he descended the steps and strode off down a passageway. The group followed, hardly realizing their lord had not spoken once.
"Leave me!" Thorin finally roared at the crowd when their voices became too much. Dain alone remained.
"You cannot continue to put this off, cousin."
"I am not. I only seek counsel of my kin."
"I am your kin, Thorin."
"Where were you when I called? Where were you when Smaug fell?"
Dain had no answer so he grumbled to himself and left. Finally alone, Thorin searched through the newly inhabited passages for Balin, his oldest and most trusted advisor. The older dwarf was nowhere to be found and the king's irritation grew with every step. After the battle, he had woken in a foul mood only to be pestered by sniveling Iron Hills dwarves. Reaching the kitchens, he crossed his arms over his broad chest and searched for anyone to locate and bring Balin to him. Not a single familiar face could be found. Cursing in Khazad, Thorin returned to his throne and faced the headache inducing crowd alone.
It immediately aroused Thorin's suspicion when he joined his nephews for dinner. They had been talking together closely but broke apart the moment the older dwarf appeared. Normally they would greet him before going back to their own discussions, but they were tight lipped and wouldn't meet his eyes. The King Under the Mountain had the distinct impression that they had been talking about him and left as soon as he finished his meal.
It seemed that everywhere he looked, his companions were acting oddly. Dwalin walked by carrying a huge bundle of wood without a word. Bombur was seen more than once with various food items that were not being shoved in his mouth. Ori was knitting furiously but the king couldn't make out what the lumpy shape could possibly be. Nori tried to thread a needle unsuccessfully for what seemed like hours. Balin looked exhausted and worried whenever he saw his oldest friend.
Bofur would not venture from one of the side passages but Thorin was not about to argue with the troubled dwarf over why he stood guard over an empty hallway. Twice he saw Dori leaving the kitchens with what smelled like chamomile tea. Oin stomped around, shushing anyone who talked too loudly and Gloin barked at anyone seen being brash. But strangest of all, was Bofur sitting off to the side, whittling a bit of wood into a vaguely troll shape, without his hat.
Adjusting back to life in Erebor was bound to be strange, but Thorin decided there was to be no secrets from him in his mountain. On the third day after the Battle of Five Armies, the king followed behind the hearing impaired Oin until they reached the corridor Bifur always seemed to be guarding. The two dwarves entered the last room on the right, unaware of their shadow. Allowing for a few moments, Thorin pushed open the great heavy door and entered.
Every single dwarf that had accompanied him on the quest to reclaim Erebor was present, strangely quiet and staring at something against the far wall. Slowly, Thorin took in the troll carving and Bofur's hat on a shelf. The king took several steps forward and could make out a bed, covered by the lumpy blanket Ori had been working on. And then he saw Balin leaning over the bed with a damp cloth. Bilbo Baggins lay surrounded by dwarves, faces grave as they watched his still form.
Gandalf stood when he saw Thorin Oakenshield among the others, face clouded over and furious. "Thorin."
"You brought him here after I forbade it?" No one would meet his gaze.
"He's hurt." Ori tried to speak but his voice failed him.
"Get him out of my mountain." His voice was deadly and everyone backed away.
"Bilbo hasn't awoken since the battle." Fili's voice was firm as he faced his uncle.
Thorin was still furious over losing the Arkenstone, despite the jewel having been returned after the orcs fled. But he had never wished the hobbit to come to harm. The stubbornness of the dwarves would never allow him to retract his words at the gate. "I care not if you must drag him away, but he will not remain here."
The gray wizard towered over the dwarf king and the light seemed to dim behind him. "If this is the gratitude you show to the one that saved your life and this quest countless times, you shall not be king for long."
"Eh, Mister Gandalf, he's moving!" Bofur shouted and the shadows retreated once again.
No one spoke as the halfling slowly opened his large eyes, blinking up at the stone ceiling. For half a second, Thorin couldn't remember the halfling's eyes being so blue. Gently, the wizard touched Bilbo's shoulder and smiled down at him.
"Welcome back, master burglar. We were all quite worried about you."
"Gandalf?" Bilbo blinked again and tried to turn his head. "Everything's dark."
