THE WATCHMAN
It was well known that Thorin Oakenshield was a hard head, stubborn to his very core and had a determination so fierce that he had chosen to take back Erebor with only thirteen dwarves and a Hobbit. It was his stubbornness that had ultimately caused his demise on the battlefield, something he would never back down from. He had defended his decision voraciously since arriving in the Haven. He had refused to go forth without his entire company and so he had sat in the Haven for nigh on seventy years, watching as each member of his company went through life without him. Kili and Fili, bless their hearts had crossed through to the Haven mere moments after he had and after much discussion – a word Thorin used lightly here for discussion between his two nephew could only be translated through fists – had elected to wait with him. Dwarves are uncannily loyal to those whom they love if they so choose to be.
So it was that Thorin had picked his place to watch the goings on in Middle Earth. A small, soft green grassy hill was his perch. Just behind him and at the base of the hill was a large oak tree and it was in these branches that Kili and Fili would climb on to join their uncle in watching. Each had a person in particular they would watch most. Fili would often train his eyes on the strong dwarf Dwalin, cheering on his kinsman as the poor sod tried to woo a dwarf-woman called Milonna, a fiery one indeed. Kili would faithfully keep tabs on Ori, as the two youngest dwarves that had made up the company the young Prince felt some measure of protectiveness over the gentle dwarf. As for the King, Thorin watched each member equally. He wanted to share each of their moments with them, even if he was too early departed.
He ignored his nephews when they teased him for always returning to watch over their burglar, one Bilbo Baggins.
It drove Thorin mad to watch as his Hobbit, his Bilbo, was slowly torn apart by grief of losing him. He wanted to jump out of the Haven, fall to the ground and draw Bilbo to his arms and never let him go again. He was only slightly mollified when Balin, seemingly guessing his student's wishes from beyond the grave, took it upon himself to keep tabs on the Hobbit. There were times when Bilbo would sit by his comfortable hearth, stare into the flames and without warning, burst into unrefined sobs of pure anguish, calling for Thorin. He pleaded with any and all gods he could find, for the return of Thorin, Fili and Kili. Even the two dwarf Princes felt their hearts wrench when Bilbo went as far to offer himself in return for their lives.
"I will gladly offer myself!" the Hobbit had pleaded through his tears. "If only to see them one last time and to tell Thorin the truth!"
That particular moment had Thorin in a bad mood for days. He should not have died so soon, he should be with his Hobbit. He could not figure out what Bilbo had to tell him.
The next dwarf to join them had been, unsurprisingly, the sticky fingered Nori. Despite being dead he was actually fairly cheerful about the whole thing and had promptly sat at the base of Kili and Fili's tree with his flute and struck up a tune. It turned out, unsurprisingly, that Nori had picked the pocket of the wrong person. Nevertheless he was greeted with great shouts of delight from Kili and Fili, as well as a gruff smile from Thorin. He late dutifully informed Thorin that many of his people were rebuilding Erebor and this pulled a true smile across the King's face. At least his people were home now.
Later, after being joined by Dori and Gloin, Thorin watched as his Hobbit went through the heart wrenching loss of his kinsman and promptly took over guardianship of tiny Frodo Baggins. The king was thoroughly enamoured with the small Hobbit and watched the little black haired boy as often as he watched his wayward uncle. The young Frodo was very curious and spent much of his time exasperating Bilbo with his questions and constant wandering. Thorin had chuckled to himself time and again as Frodo landed himself in a spot of trouble with certain other young Hobbits who were referred to as Pippin, Merry and Sam.
Frodo grew quickly, even as Bombur joined their ranks with a hearty; when is the feast? The little Hobbit was extraordinarily intelligent, often realising when Bilbo needed comfort or solitude. Bless his little heart the youngling even laid awake at night to make sure his uncle didn't have any nightmares. This warmed Thorin's heart exponentially; it was time that someone took care of Bilbo who had a bad habit of forgetting that he too deserved happiness.
It was not all roses and sunshine though, Frodo had a lot of problems with some folk from the Shire. Whispers about Bilbo followed the young Hobbit wherever he went and children, especially the bigger ones, saw fit to pick on poor Frodo for his darker hair and his relation to Bilbo. The nasty devils even had the guts to bring the little thing's parents into the debacle. This had Thorin in a blinding rage for hours, pacing and muttering curses in Khuzdul. He was not the only one; Kili and Fili wore faces of black thunder, Nori muttered something about teaching the little monsters a lesson and Bombur – ever faithful Bombur – had threatened to turn the whole lot of them into a pie.
Bilbo tried his best to comfort his poor nephew; in a sense Frodo's innocence reminded the Hobbit a lot of Kili and Fili. Thorin felt this too, even from so far away. But no matter what Bilbo said to try and comfort Frodo, the young Hobbit would not accept.
"Don't treat me like I don't understand!" he yelled petulantly, stamping his hairy little foot. "People shouldn't pick on you and your sad all the time! I just want you to be happy Uncle!"
Thorin could not help but feel a twinge of pride for the little Hobbit.
Time passed easily and Thorin stood in horror with the remainder of his kin as the mines of Moria were once again plundered and Balin, Ori and Oin were all viciously slain by orcs. A rage had settled within the once mighty King for, though he was not physically a part of Middle Earth anymore, he felt as if the whole place were falling apart before his very eyes. Nonetheless he greeted Balin with a tight embrace and a few welcoming words. The old dwarf looked very much the same as he had on their journey to Erebor, all white hair and red cloak with that winning grin.
"I see my dear brother's been a might busy of late" the old dwarf chuckled, peering out of the Haven and into Middle Earth. "Bless my soul, five sons already and a daughter?"
"Dwalin was never one to sit idle" Thorin said, clapping Balin on the shoulder.
"Have you been keeping an eye on our Hobbit?" Balin asked, settling himself beside Thorin on the hill. "I tried to keep up contact but I'm afraid time and distance have torn us apart"
"He grieves" was all Thorin would say.
"That little Hobbit he took on is quite a charming and determined little fellow" Fili called. He was smiling widely, tossing a knife into the air and catching it with practiced ease. "What's his name again Kili?"
"Frodo" his brother replied, his arm around the smiling Ori. "Bravest little Hobbit I've ever met, not counting our burglar of course"
"You haven't met him yet you idiot!" Fili countered, smacking Kili upside the head.
Time passed and Bilbo grew older, his Hobbit hole still the same as Thorin remembered it. He could sense his old friend's discomfort in the Shire. He could tell that Bilbo missed Erebor and the Dwarven Company. But it seemed that the stubborn little halfling would not leave until Frodo was old enough to fend for himself. A true parent indeed, Thorin reflected. When Bilbo's annual birthday celebrations came along Thorin was not at all surprised when the old Hobbit pulled a trick on his neighbours and, after leaving everything to Frodo and beseeching Gandalf to keep an eye on the younger Hobbit, set out for Rivendale humming a tune that Kili and Fili soon began to sing again.
Blunt the knives and bend the forks!
Smash the bottles and burn the corks!
Chip the glasses and crack the plates!
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates –
Cut the cloth and tread the fat!
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!
Pour the milk on the pantry floor!
Splash the wine on every door!
Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl;
Pound them up with a thumping pole;
And when you've finished, if any are whole,
Send them down the hall to roll!
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!
"Aye that was a merry song indeed" Gloin grumbled happily.
As the ring passed from Bilbo's hands and clattered to the floor Thorin couldn't help but sigh with relief. That thing had been torturing his Hobbit for many a year now and he had no intentions of allowing it to continue if he could help it. That ring, that thrice damned ring, was perhaps part of the reason why Bilbo had managed to save them many a time yet Thorin couldn't help but feel as though there were something not quite right with the shiny gold piece of jewellery. As Bilbo set off down the road he paused, looked up the stars and said, so quietly Thorin thought he'd misheard;
"I know you lot are up there having a marvellous time without me but honestly, I have one request to make" Bilbo said. "Watch over my precious Frodo for me, Thorin? Kili and Fili too? And any of you rambunctious lot that's up there too"
A lump wedged itself in the King's throat and he had to duck his head to hide the tears that had threatened to spill. Oh how he missed that eccentric, good natured little creature.
More anger and frustration had welled within Thorin as Frodo and his band of hobbits travelled towards Rivendale, protecting the Ring. A deep, sentient need to protect Frodo erupted within his chest when that foul Naz'gul stabbed Frodo right through the chest with his blade. In order to make sure that he didn't let Frodo die as per Bilbo's wishes Thorin sat, cross legged and willed Frodo to make it. He damn near exhausted himself and promptly slept for the next hour but awoke to realise that Frodo had in fact survived.
Once, more often it was becoming a regular thing though, Kili would join Thorin on the hill with a look of sadness etched permanently into his young face. "I miss him Thorin" he admitted quietly, shuffling his feet. "Bilbo did so much for us and now we can't help him or his nephew" he added bitterly, rubbing at his eyes with his sleeve.
Thorin caught his hand and shot his nephew a stern gaze. "Don't do that your mother would bash me upside the head if she knew" he admonished gently. "I know" he added, his voice cracking – much to his anger. "I feel as though I should be rushing down there and slaying every orc and Naz'gul filth that dares cross his path"
"It's because you would have been his other adopted parent if things had been different" Kili sniffled, tucking himself into Thorin's side. When the King made a strangled noise of indignation and denial his nephew rolled his eyes. "Come on uncle, everyone could see it – except Bilbo of course"
They didn't speak much after that, they simply sat there and watched as Elrond called for the council to decide the fate of the One Ring. Both Thorin and Gloin were most pleased when Gimli voraciously snapped at a certain elvish prince and maintained that no dwarf would allow an elf to speak them in such a high and mighty manner.
"That's my boy!" Gloin had crowed with delight.
As Gandalf and the Fellowship discovered Moria Balin admitted there was tightness in his chest. Even from here in the safety of the Haven they could see Gandalf's bitter expression. Thorin had new instantly that the old wizard was not dead after his fight with the Balrog. He knew the wizard was far from done and as for that Boromir fellow – Thorin's jaw clenched – he knew something was off about that particular human. He was proven right later and yet, when the honoured warrior fell to the orcs and their arrows, Thorin felt a bit of guilt take hold of him for cursing him only moments before.
Balin called it 'saving-one-who-is-precious-to-you-syndrome'.
It was at this time that Thorin's thoughts returned to Bilbo and he often spent many an hour lounging on the hill, watching him read or recalling their memories of time spent together and memories lost. He had only one wish, for more time with his Bilbo to admit how he had truly felt – something his body had not allowed him on the battlefield of his death. The Hobbit spoke to them nightly now, mostly to Thorin, Balin and the two brothers but sometimes he would mention other dwarves.
"Do you remember when Bofur told me that a dragon was like a furnace with wings?" Bilbo chuckled one night, his white hair dancing in the midsummer evening breeze. "Oh I keeled over so fast I saw stars! And Thorin, you strode into to my good little hole with all the airs and graces of a pompous prince – I was mighty scared of you then"
Thorin had grinned at that and had reached out for Bilbo, remembering seconds later that the one he held dear could not feel his touch that moment.
"You might've acted all big and tough but I could see right through you" Bilbo was murmuring now. "Thorin Oakenshield, you were tough and strong but underneath that was a heart of gold. I could see it as clear as I could see Dwalin's tattoos, took me a while but I found it"
And Thorin's' throat got all choked up again.
That filthy, slimy creature reminded Thorin of the time where Bilbo had been stricken with nightmares. And when Frodo called the thing 'Gollum' it was then Thorin remembered. Bilbo's description of a horrid, slimy thing that haunted his dreams and that he feared might come for him. It was clear to Thorin now why such a creature would hunt his Hobbit. It sought that awful ring Frodo was forced to carry, the one that was slowly turning Frodo into someone no dwarf recognised. Thorin was mighty glad that Samwise Gamgee was so stubborn, for he feared Frodo would be lost if not for that other sensible Hobbit.
"No good can come from it" the new addition Bofur predicted, puffing on his pipe and shaking his head. "There is an evil within that ring, I can feel it – even here I can feel the malice within its gold"
Thorin privately agreed with the toymaker but said nothing. Fili had sighed with great effort. "I don't trust that thing either" he pouted, brushing away his blonde hair. Kili nodded in agreement.
"Bilbo spoke of it before" Thorin admitted. "He met it down in the goblin realms"
"So that's why the lad was all shaking and the like, can't say I blame him – that thing is right frightening indeed" Nori said.
The heat pulsating off Mount Doom shocked Thorin into speechlessness. He could do nought but watch in horror as Frodo wrestled with Gollum and when the horrid little demon bit off Frodo's finger there was a howl of rage from their new addition of Dwalin.
"Skin the filthy traitor!" he bellowed, shaking his fist down at Mount Doom. "Why I oughta . . ."
"Yes well you can't do anything right now!" Balin said, shaking his head. He too was glowering.
Thorin was not at all surprised at the level of protectiveness each dwarf showed towards a young Frodo. They were all fond of Bilbo Baggins, some to a higher degree than others, and as such watching his beloved nephew struggle with the curse of the Ring was something none of the dwarves enjoyed witnessing. Thorin especially found he could not rest easy, even when the ring and Gollum fell into the fires of the Mountain and the two hobbits ran for their life. He only relaxed when the eagles arrived to pick them up and it was clear that Frodo would survive. Thorin knew that his pseudo-son would never be the same again, much like his beloved Bilbo.
Four years trickled by and Thorin was forced to watch, ever vigilant, as age and illness broke down Bilbo. The elderly hobbit still clearly remembered everything about Erebor and their adventures and would often call out for Thorin in his sleep. Frodo too, now had awful dreams, screaming and ranting about a 'precious'. Fili and Kili took it upon themselves to watch over the younger Hobbit, even if it pained them to watch him in fear. Their company was completely reunited by this point; Bifur had arrived a year ago, and Thorin was getting anxious.
"He will come soon" Balin said wisely. "Don't you worry about that my King"
But Thorin could not stop his pacing. Even as Bilbo and Frodo joined Elrond upon the last boat Thorin would pace incessantly about the Haven, anxious to take his Hobbit in his arms once more. Seventy years was too long to wait by most standards and they were now pushing seventy-five. It was on a cool, cloudy day though when Thorin, who had been napping under the tree, heard a shout.
"Uncle!" Fili cried happily, running over to him. "He's here!"
"At last" Thorin breathed, staggering to his feet and hurry towards the gate.
Standing on the threshold, just as Thorin remembered him, was their burglar Hobbit – one Bilbo Baggins. He was surrounded by cheering dwarves and for a moment Thorin stood there, drinking in the sight. Beside him Kili and Fili were hugging each other in sheer delight before taking off to tackle Bilbo to the ground.
"Let me up you great fools!" Bilbo laughed.
When the hobbit was on his feet again Thorin made his way over to the group. Bilbo moved to stand a little away and met Thorin's gaze with practiced ease. The King let out a choking chuckle of laughter, reaching out to trace the features of Bilbo's face as to confirm to himself that he was not dreaming. Once satisfied Thorin wasted no time and pulled his Hobbit into his arms and a crushing embrace.
"It has been too long my friend" he whispered raggedly in Bilbo's ear.
"Friend" Bilbo sighed. "I rather thought we were more than that" he added mischievously. "I never did get to tell you that I loved you did I?"
Kili and Fili dropped to the floor in gales of laughter as Thorin's jaw dropped and his face took on the look of a frightened rabbit. It was rather an amusing sight to be honest and each dwarf was smiling and shaking their heads as if to say, it's about time.
"I've been watching over you my burglar and your nephew" Thorin admitted quietly, shaking himself. "I never thought that you'd return my feel –"
"You're a bigger fool than I remember" Bilbo said fondly. "But I've missed you all the same"
And when Thorin finally kissed his Hobbit it was as though all was right with the world in his heart. That aching throb that had been a part of him for seventy four years had been diminished in the touching of their lips. At the catcalls and whistles from the Company Thorin merely grinned smugly at them and lifted Bilbo over his shoulder with ease. Ignoring the half-hearted protests Thorin waved at the other dwarves.
"Give us a few hours, we have a lot of catching up to do" he told them.
Laughter followed them all the way down into a small, secluded clearing where Thorin finally set Bilbo down before crushing him against the tree under the heat of another kiss. He had worried at one point whether he was too rough but then Bilbo was kissing him back just as passionately and Thorin was groaning under his breath. Bilbo broke the kiss first, staring at his King dazedly and out of breath.
"I could feel you watching me whilst I was back there" he said softly, wrapping his arms around Thorin's neck. "Middle Earth" he corrected himself when Thorin raised one dark eyebrow. "It kept me somewhat sane"
"I never got to tell you how I felt" Thorin whispered, feeling every day of their separation in his chest. His head dropped against Bilbo's neck. "One of my greatest regrets"
"I knew" Bilbo admitted. "I just didn't say anything until after you passed"
"Sneaky Hobbit" Thorin growled, pressing his lips to Bilbo's once more.
"Thank you" Bilbo said quietly, sometime later when they were lying on the soft grass together and Thorin's fingers were tangled in his curls.
"For what?"
"For watching over me"