Chapter Nine:
The Hobbit: Bored

As it were, there wasn't much for a recovering hobbit to do in the middle of the wild. He retreated back to his cave and the blankets for warmth, but there was nothing to do.

He stared at the cave wall for awhile, his eyes assessing each nook and cranny. They were boring and unchanging and Bilbo soon grew tired of looking at the cave wall.

He watched the shadows towards the mouth of the cave growing longer as the day stretched on. The dwarves didn't visit him and he had to go fetch his own supper. Apparently, since he was walking and talking on his own now, the dwarves no longer felt the need to check up on him.

His mind strayed back to Gandalf. The wizard had clearly seen him looking uncomfortably ill the day before his fever became pronounced. The wizard clearly knew that Bilbo had been sick, given that remark by the lake. But Bilbo didn't recall Gandalf being there while he had been ill... not that he could recall much from the time that he'd started feeling really ill. The wizard seemed to be there one moment, gone in the next, and Bilbo wondered just where the disappearing wizard vanished off to on those random occassions.

As Bilbo watched the shadows growing longer, nibbling absently on some slow-roasted rabbit, his mind once again strayed to the Shire. He missed his home dearly. He missed his mealtimes dearly; how he longed for something that was not caught and roasted over a fire. (He didn't care for rabbit- cooked rabbit, that was.)

He knew this wasn't the first time that he would think that and it certainly wouldn't be the last. At least, he reckoned, he had fond memories of his home.

He took a sip of ale, leaning back against the wall. It was a bit chilly now, as it was dusk, and he was nearly positive that this wasn't a by-product of his illness. It was nearly night-time; it got cooler towards night-time. So, he felt completely justified in drawing the blankets close and snuggling into the warmth that they produced.

"Let's get a move on."

"Yeah, yeah," Bilbo muttered under his breath, rubbing his nose.

Thorin was eager to return to their journey since they had been staying in one place for what he thought was far too long. Bilbo shared the sentiment only a bit; he was still a bit achy and his nose was running without pause. Every so often, he sneezed, too, and it was a bit miserable. But, it was much better compared to the fever that he had been ill with.

That being said, boredom didn't sit well with the little hobbit now that he was used to adventuring. (Oh, if the residents of Bag End could see him now...)

"Feeling better, then?" Balin asked, falling in line next to Bilbo.

"Better than I did, yes, much better," Bilbo said, rubbing his nose again.

"Good to hear."

Bilbo sniffed. "Yes, yes it is."

"Although Thorin's going to be annoyed by your sniveling..." Balin joked, as Thorin stomped by. "But pay him no mind!" Balin laughed and carried on, following Thorin.

Bilbo was left alone, with his slight headache and his running nose, for awhile. He was content to walk in silence, broken by his occasional sniff, and he was happy to not have a dwarf fussing over him again. He appreciated their sentiment; but he was really just a suffer-in-silence type (if he could help it).

"How were the dwarves, then?" Gandalf asked, at one point, when the wizard fell back to walk with the hobbit.

Bilbo looked up at the tall wizard quizzically. "Excuse me?"

"Is their bedside manner up to snuff?"

"Oh." Of course Gandalf would know entirely about what had transpired in his- unexpected- absence. The dwarves probably hadn't even told him the details. "Er... well, they were... they were..."

"Not helpful?" Gandalf supplied, his voice sounding amused.

"Well, no, they did help," Bilbo said truthfully. "I just don't think they're used to taking care of an ill hobbit..."

"I highly doubt it. They probably aren't used to taking care of an ill dwarf, to be honest. Relisiant creatures."

"I can see that," Bilbo murmured, rubbing his nose again. Oh, how he wished he had his handkerchief!

"More rest would do you good, little hobbit."

"Probably... but I agree with Thorin..." Bilbo muttered. "We need to get this journey finished..."

"Hm." Gandalf looked ahead. "The hardships are yet to come."

Bilbo looked back at Gandalf. "Do you think?"

"You have yet to experience the Forest of Mirkwood."

Illogically, Bilbo shivered. (Maybe he still had a bit of a fever...)

"But, at least your little cold is out of the way," Gandalf continued, "and the dwarves and you have a stronger bond for it!"

Bilbo fell silent again, thinking about that. Did he and the dwarves really have a stronger bond due to his fever? They had certainly jumped to his aid when he had been ill, and he was really thankful... But were they closer?

They might grumble about their hobbit... about his short legs and his slow pace and his inability to carry their packs... but they had certainly tried, very stubbornly, to get the hobbit back to full health.

Why?

Because they cared for him or because they wanted to get on with their journey? Or both?

Whatever the reason, Bilbo thought, as he stumbled over his own feet, he was going to do his best to help the dwarves in whatever way he could.

There will be a short drabble of a (humourous) epilogue after this, but Bilbo's sickness is over with, for the most part. :)

Thank you!