10.

The hobbit did not know how exactly he had managed to fall asleep while sitting on the eagle's back, but he later suspected the wizard had something to do with it.

He had no idea how much time had passed when he woke on a soft bed inside the Mountain, but it could not have been a lot. There were several dwarves rushing about the hall, looking after the wounded. A few others had just come back from the battlefield and were looking for their brothers. Some were told terrible news, others were lucky enough to find them alive.
Bilbo sat up and scanned the room, hoping to see Thorin, but the king was nowhere to be found. The hobbit hoped he had no slept too long…

He hopped out of bed and walked past several injured men, elves and dwarves. He recognised Oin, who was snoring loudly but apart from a broken arm and some cuts on his nose, seemed alright.

He also saw Bofur who was just climbing out of bed as the hobbit passed by.

'Oh, I see the hobbit is already out and about. Back on his big and hairy feet. Don't you ever sleep?' he joked.

'Believe me, if I could I would sleep for four days on end,' he told the cheerful dwarf who looked at him as if the battle had never taken place. 'Do you know where I can find Thorin? Or Gandalf? Or Beorn, even?'

'Beorn was here?'

'He came to our aid, yes. Have you not seen him?'

Bofur shrugged. 'No,' he said, 'And the same goes for the others. I've only just woken up myself. They gave me a sleeping draught, you see. Said it would ease the pain. Hah! By my beard, were they wrong…'

'No sign of the King yet, then?'

'No, why? Should there be?' Bofur asked, a hint of concern in his voice. 'I can't say I haven't been worrying about him myself. Ever since I found this on the battlefield…'

He put his hand in his pocket and took out a big gemstone that Bilbo immediately recognised as the Arkenstone itself. 'Here,' Bofur handed it to him.

Bilbo took it in his hand and put it back in the pocket where he had kept it from Thorin not that long ago. 'You found this?'

'Just lying around! I picked it up, ready to take it back to Thorin, but I never found him. I got injured you see.'

He rolled up his sleeve and showed the hobbit his under arm, which had been cut open to the bone. Bilbo felt dizzy as soon as he laid eyes upon the wound and had to look away to make sure he would not faint.

'Stings like mad,' Bofur told him.

'W-what happened?' he stammered.

'An orc pinned met to the ground and thought it would be fun to torture his victim a bit,' he said as if it was no big deal. 'It was lucky Dwalin got there in time to snap his neck. If it had not been for him, I would have blooded to death then and there. But he asked two men and an elf to carry me here. The elf died in front of the gates… He got hit by an arrow. In the neck…'

Bofur stared blankly ahead as he muttered the words, remembering the awful things he had seen. Bilbo had never seen him so sad and quiet. But Bofur would not be himself if he did not force a smile back on his face and said; 'So, Gandalf and Thorin, eh? Well then, let's go look for them!'

It was Bofur's idea to look in the throne room. It turned out to be a very good shot in the dark, for they indeed found Gandalf there. His arm was in a sling; not even he had left the battle unscarred.

Bilbo was still very angry at the wizard because he had not allowed him to stay with Thorin. 'Where is he?' he bellowed as soon as they entered the hall.

'Where is who?' Bofur asked. The dwarf had no idea of what had happened to Bilbo, Thorin or any of the others. Just like many survivors, most news was unknown to him.

'I don't know,' Gandalf answered the hobbit's question first.

'What do you mean? Isn't he here?'

'No. Not yet, anyway.'

'Who are we talking about?!' Bofur interfered at last.

'Thorin,' came the reply from the other two simultaneously.

'Why? What has happened?'

So Bilbo told the dwarf of everything that had seen that morning. Of how Beorn had turned up out of nowhere, how Gandalf had used magic to safe Thorin, how Fili and Kili had died and finally of how Thorin had been stabbed and the battle had been over.'

Bofur's eyes had filled themselves with tears when the hobbit told him about the faith that had befallen Fili and Kili and now his voice trembled as he asked the wizard and the Halfling; 'Is there a chance he will survive?'

'Yes. Yes! Of course there is. There has to be,' Bilbo nodded, 'Isn't that right, Gandalf?'

The wizard did not answer him, but stared at the stone floor beneath his feet instead.

'Gandalf?'

'I will go and tell the others, then,' Bofur coughed as he made his way to the doors that led to the hall where the injured were.

'That would be wise, I think,' the wizard smiled at him and the dwarf hurried away.

At that moment Bilbo felt so very angry that he wanted to shout and cry at the wizard who seemed so calm and strong. He managed to remain quiet until Gandalf spoke to him.

'There are plenty chairs here, Bilbo. Please stop pacing and sit down.'

'S-sit down? Sit down?!' the hobbit bellowed, 'I can't even stand still that's how restless I am. Don't you understand?!'

'Of course I do, don't be silly. I know how you feel.'

'No, Gandalf. I don't think you do.'

Gandalf raised an eyebrow. 'I am very old, Bilbo. So much older than you can imagine. Do you not think I have seen many things? I have been through many battles, some even graver than the one we just ended and I have been in your position many times.'

'What position is that, then?' the hobbit asked. He had already calmed down a bit and he lowered his voice.

'You are afraid of losing someone very dear to you,' Gandalf explained, 'Afraid of losing someone you-'

'Yes,' Bilbo interrupted him, 'I suppose you are right. Of course you are.' He nodded at the wizard then stopped to think and bit his lip. 'But I'm not going to lose him, am I?'

The hobbit furiously wished that Gandalf would tell him that he was right but, as before, he did not speak.

'Gandalf!' he bellowed, anger boiling up inside him again, but then quickly looked away, feeling embarrassed for yelling. 'I'm sorry,' he muttered, 'I just felt so-'

'Helpless. I know.'

Helpless. That was the word.

'Helpless,' Bilbo confirmed quietly.

Just as he spoke the word the great doors that led to the room opened and a tall man walked in. It was Beorn, back in his human form, and in his arms he was carrying someone.

'Thorin!' Bilbo gasped when he recognised the dwarf's face. Beorn ignored the hobbit but walked towards Gandalf instead. 'He is alive,' he told the wizard.

Bilbo sighed relieved. 'So then he will be alright?'

The others still ignored him completely. 'Where do I leave him?' the skin-changer asked without blinking.

'With me. Come on,' Gandalf said slowly and beckoned Beorn to follow him. Bilbo did not care that none invited him to come along; he sprinted after them anyway.

It felt as if they walked through entire Erebor. Stone hall after stone hall. In nearly every room there were people, mainly dwarves, who bowed as their king and his protectors passed by. The entire journey – which felt just as long as the Unexpected one – Bilbo kept his eyes fixed on Thorin. His eyes were closed and his body hung limb in Beorn's arms. There was still more blood dripping from the wound in his chest and it left a small trace of splatters on the floors. Beorn had managed to remove the orc sword from his body, so he would not feel the pain of it and it would not make the wound even bigger.

Eventually they entered a room smaller than any of the ones they had been in, but still large enough to fit over a dozen dwarves in. 'Where are we?' Bilbo asked as he scanned the room for clues.

Gandalf did not answer him. 'Lay him down over there, Beorn. Then go and fetch the King's Company.' He pointed at what appeared to be a stone table. Carefully the shape-shifter placed Thorin's body on the table leaf. As Bilbo took a closer look and Beorn left the room, the hobbit saw letters engraves in the stone. 'What does this say?' he asked the wizard as he ran his fingers across the ancient runes.

No reply. Bilbo sighed and looked at Thorin again. He drew in a deep breath and leaned closer to him, so he could hear his shaky breaths and unsteady heartbeat. 'Hello,' he whispered in his ear, a weak smile on his face, 'You are going to wake up very soon, aren't you? There is no rush, though. Just open your eyes whenever you are ready. I will be here. I am not going anywhere,' his voice broke, 'I am never leaving you again.'

And, deciding to immediately stick to the promise, he knelt down beside the Table. 'I'm here,' he whispered, 'You will be alright.'

Gandalf eyed him from across the room for what seemed like hours and he never spoke, nor did he move.

The hobbit eventually got up again and took Thorin's hand in his the way he had done after the dwarf had slain Azog. 'You are not letting go this time,' he muttered. 'Don't you dare.' With his free hand he briefly touched Thorin's face. It was still covered in sweat and felt very hot. 'You have a bit of a fever, then,' Bilbo noticed, 'That is fine. Nothing that can't be helped, hm? Nah, you will be fine.'

He stroked Thorin's cheek and traced his cheekbones with his fingertip.

And then Thorin finally opened his eyes. The king had trouble focusing at first, but eventually his blue eyes found Bilbo's. When he recognised the hobbit he muttered his name, then closed his eyes again while letting out a low sigh.

'Hello again,' Bilbo whispered, 'How are you feeling?'

Thorin opened his eyes again. 'Fine,' he answered sarcastically.

'You are beginning to sound more and more like me.'

Thorin grinned weakly. 'I am glad you are here,' he mumbled, 'Here, at the end of all things.'

'Don't say that!' Bilbo told him appalled.

'I am dying and that is the only truth there is.'

'No, you can't-'

Thorin grunted and squeezed the hobbit's hand. 'It is better this way,' he smiled, 'It will be a relief when the pain stops, and I am happy enough knowing that Erebor is back in dwarven hands.'

'But what will the Mountain be without its King?!' Bilbo sniffed, fighting hard against the tears stinging his eyes.

'A new king will rise in time. That is how it has always gone. Come, do not cry.'

But the hobbit did. He did not try to keep the tears back anymore, even if he had wanted to he would not have been able to. They ran down his cheeks and, one by one, landed on the stone table.

'Come closer,' Thorin asked him. So he leaned in even further and the dwarf whispered in his ear, 'Before I go, I meant to warn you.'

'For what?' Bilbo asked, wondering what the dying dwarf could possibly be referring to.

'The Ring you keep. Be careful with it. Don't use it often and keep it hidden.'

'Why?'

'Because Gandalf believes it to be dangerous. And I think it very well could be. I have noticed how fond you have grown of it. You keep it with you at all times and constantly check whether it is still in your pocket. It will not surprise you when I say I recognise such enchantment by gold…'

Bilbo nodded. 'Don't worry,' he assured him, 'When I am home I will put it in a cupboard and I will never need use it again. It will be forgotten.'

'That I hope.' Thorin tried to raise his arm so he could reach the hobbit's face, but he grunted in pain at the action.

'Don't,' Bilbo told him sternly and pressed a gentle hand against the arm to make sure he would not lift it again. 'Just stay still.'

He tried to nod, but even an action as simple as that was too much for him. 'Okay,' he told Bilbo instead, 'You will go home then?' he asked.

'Someday.'

'Soon?'

'Perhaps. I don't know.'

'You have to go soon. I want you to.'

'W-why?' Bilbo stammered confused.

'Because once the dwarves will start looking for a new king, Erebor won't be such a nice and merry place for a while.'

In the short silence that fell Gandalf saw his chance to let Thorin know he would take care of the hobbit. 'I will leave for the Shire within days. He will come with me.'

'Thank you,' was all the King uttered, before looking at Bilbo again.

'I hope you have a safe journey home when the time is there. Be careful, my Burglar.'

Thorin closed his eyes again and he breathed out slowly.

'No! You can't leave me! Not yet! Thorin! Come on!' The hobbit cried and shouted and that appeared to be just enough for Thorin to hold on to life. His eyes opened again, wider than they had before and for the first time since Bilbo had met him he saw tears glisten in them.

'I promised you before,' he whispered, 'We will meet again one day. I will wait for you.'

'Aren't you scared?'

'No,' he smiled, 'I think I'm quite ready for another adventure. I will miss you, though. Very much. An adventure without you will never be as good as the adventure we have been on the last few months.'

'Thorin, I-'

It was as if he had lost the ability to speak. He briefly wiped a tear from his face and leaned in to kiss the dwarf's lips. The unspoken words were thought by both, but neither found it necessary to speak them.

'I am sorry for everything that has happened to you,' Thorin whispered to the hobbit, his face only inches away.

'Don't be. I would not have missed it for the world. This journey has been incredible! I just regret that it must end this tragically.'

'Yes,' Thorin agreed weakly. His eyes were beginning to fall shut again and he knew he did not have much longer. He was clinging onto life with everything he had left. 'Bilbo, my Burglar, promise me you won't forget.'

'Forget? You? Our adventures? Never, Thorin. Not even when I am eleventy-one years old!'

Thorin smiled at him and took one more look. 'Then I must go. Until we meet again. Farewell.'

Those words were the last Thorin Oakenshield uttered. The smile on his face lingered forever, as did the small wrinkles around his eyes. He seemed so peaceful and happy, yet too quiet.

Bilbo wiped his eyes, even though the tears would not stop falling. He cried until his eyes were red and he had ran out of tears. Even when the Company found the room and said their final goodbyes to the King Under the Mountain, the hobbit was still sniffing. Some of the dwarves patted him on the back, or said some kind words to him, but none really seemed to matter. He barely heard them.

One by one the dwarves left the room in silence. Bifur and Bombur were the first to go. The fat dwarf's eyes were puffy and red and Bifur knitted his thick brows as he stared at the floor. They were followed by Oin, who had left his ear trumpet at the foot of the table as a tribute to Thorin. After him came Gloin, who looked tough but even his face had gone ghostly pale and his cheeks were wet. Dori, Nori and Ori followed him; Dori and Nori had to drag Ori, who would not stop sobbing, away from the room. 'Goodbye,' he whispered over his shoulder when the door shut behind them.

After them Dwalin and Bofur left. Dwalin was the only one who had not shed any tears, but had saluted Thorin by giving a short nod in his direction. He straightened his back and nodded once more, before turning around and leaving the room – his hands shaking, fingers clenched into its palm. Bofur hurried after him. He was still crying and did not even make an effort of wiping the tears away. He had gently patted Thorin's shoulder and whispered a few words, then decided it was time to leave. As he stepped through the doorway, Bilbo could hear him say, 'Everything ends. And always too soon.'

Balin was the last dwarf to leave. He said something in the dwarfish Khuzdul to Thorin and turned to walk away. He stopped in the doorway and bowed. 'At your service, laddie,' he whispered, sniffing quietly.

It was only then that Bilbo realised that the dwarves were not grieving for their King but for their friend. In Balin's case for his younger friend he had always cared a great deal for.

The hobbit wiped the last of his tears away and walked to Thorin's body again. He had nearly forgotten about it but seeing Bofur leave the room had reminded him that he still had the Arkenstone. He took it out of his pocket and held it for the last time before placing it in the king's left hand. He held the hand for a while and felt that the dwarf's fingers had gone cold already.

'Bilbo,' came Gandalf's voice from the corner, 'It is time to go.' Bilbo nodded absentmindedly. Before letting go of Thorin's hand, he kissed his lips one last time. 'Goodbye,' he muttered and took a step back to let the wizard pass. The hobbit did not know how Gandalf's trick worked, but the wizard somehow managed to swing Thorin's sword orcrist – which he had lost in battle – out from under his grey cloak. He placed its hilt on the king's chest and folded his hands – one still held the Arkenstone – around it. Then, with two gentle fingers, Gandalf closed Thorin's eyelids.

'Farewell Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror.' The wizard put an arm around the hobbit's shoulders and guided him outside. He closed the door behind them before Bilbo could look back over his shoulder. 'Come on,' Gandalf told him and they went their way.

'We leave for the Shire tomorrow,' Gandalf informed Bilbo later that day. They were sitting outside the Mountain where they had camped out before the door not long ago. They were joined by the rest of the Company – what was left of it.

Bilbo nodded, letting Gandalf know he had heard and understood. The wizard continued, 'I suggest you make your goodbyes now, then rest during the evening and night and I will wake you at dawn.' Bilbo nodded again but showed no intention of actually doing what Gandalf asked of him.

The sun had come out again and even though it was still cold, the hobbit preferred sitting outside over spending more time in the dark, underground halls of Erebor. He was very grateful the other eleven were with him, even though ten of them would rather be inside.

Gandalf had ordered him to make his goodbyes, but the way Bilbo saw it, this was goodbye; sitting in silence because there was nothing left to say, but together nevertheless. It seemed fitting after all they had been through.

And so they sat there staring at the empty plains below. Bilbo had expected it to look peaceful, now that the battle had ended. But the truth was that there were still dead orc bodies everywhere on the lands below and blood coloured the sand bright red.

They watched the sun set and the dwarf's put up their hoods against the cold. From the Mountain came a few of Dain's dwarves who offered them food. They brought out bread, all sorts of meat, ale and even a decanter of wine – which they had probably stolen from the wood elves.

As sad as the dwarves were, eat they could. And hungry they were. Even Bilbo had a few slices of bread and half a chicken breast. With their stomachs filled, the dwarves seemed to feel better and after a pint of ale the first began to speak again. It was not much later before the first songs were being sung and laughter was heard again. The hobbit, too, enjoyed himself very much. Later in his life, when he was much older, and he was reminded of this very evening a smile would appear on his face. Because even with all the pain, sadness and despair in their hearts, the dwarves' Company was warm and it had begun to feel like home.

When the sun had gone down completely, Oin and Gloin got a fire going. The dwarves, Gandalf and Bilbo all assembled around it and Bofur sang in his deep, impressive voice,

Far over our Misty Mountains dear

With songs of joy and cries of fear

Through longest days

We made our ways

And now journey's end is here.

The song went on a little longer and the other dwarves joined in, even Bilbo hummed the melody along. It reminded him of Thorin, for it was the same song he had sung when he had first come to Bag End all these months ago but with different lyrics.

The stars came out and Dori, Nori and Ori were the first to announce they were going to sleep. Gandalf suggested that Bilbo should join them. 'It will be a very early start tomorrow. You will need your energy for the journey home.'

So, a bit reluctant, Bilbo joined his friends and went back to the Mountain where they appointed him a bed in which he could sleep. As soon as he rested his head on the soft pillow he was gone, snoring rather loudly.

Gandalf kept his promise and woke Bilbo up when it was still dark. 'I have a horse and pony ready. Be quick, so we can leave,' the wizard told him and immediately left. The hobbit guessed he had to make a few more arrangements before they would go.

Bilbo got up and grunted. All the muscles in his body ached. He shrugged his shoulders in order to try to loosen them. He did not last very well because it hurt too much. Even his toe muscles ached – he never even knew that was possible.

'You're not leaving without saying a proper goodbye, are you?' came a familiar voice from behind him just as he was making his way to the door. It was Bofur, who had been sleeping in one of the beds next to his. He looked around the room, which he had not done the night before, and saw that there were ten others beds. In every single one there was one of the Company, sitting up already or still lying down, but awake nevertheless. 'Because you can't !'

'I can't what?'

'You can't take off without saying goodbye!' Bofur repeated impatiently, 'Are you sure you're not still asleep?'

Bilbo was quite sure. In fact he felt wide awake all of a sudden and the memories of the days past came back to him very fast. The battle. The wounded. Fili and Kili. And Thorin. 'No, I'm awake,' he told the others. 'The real question is… are you?'

The answer of course was that they were. Within moments they were all out of bed and put their boots on as fast as they could, then escorted the Halfling outside. They came through the throne room and from there Bilbo knew the route the chamber where Thorin was. He considered going there once more, just to say his final goodbye, but decided he did not have to. He had told him goodbye when he was still alive and his friend had heard and appreciated it. It was better this way. And come to think of it, the hobbit did not want to linger in the Mountain any longer. Now that the adventure had come to an end, all he really wanted was the Shire. His Shire, where the grass was green and not blood-stained, where folk were merry instead of sad and where his warm –hearted home was.

Gandalf was already waiting and mounted his horse as soon as he saw Bilbo and the dwarves come outside. 'Come on, Mr Baggins, we have a long way ahead of us.'

Bilbo nodded and gestured he would join him in a moment. He turned to the ten dwarves who were giving him sad looks.

'My friends,' Bilbo smiled fondly, 'Never in my life have I met such courageous and wonderful dwarves. Or men, or elves or even hobbits.' He glanced over his shoulder, 'Not even a wizard can compare to your fantastic Company. But even though I feel horrible for leaving, I do want to go home,' he smiled at the thought and sighed, 'I really do.'

He found himself choking up and decided to keep his goodbye speech as short as possible so finished with; 'I will miss all of you, so very, very much. There. My friends, this is goodbye.'

There was a short silence which was broken by Bombur, who stepped forward and patted the hobbit's back. He nearly toppled over. 'Here,' he said, handing him a big bread and an apple, 'Just so you don't get hungry on your way home.'

'Thank you!' Bilbo chuckled.

Bifur, too, came up to him and gestured something vague, while frowning deeply. Bilbo guessed he was apologising for not bringing any food. Then he bowed and Bilbo could guess what he was saying, even though he had never learned to speak the ancient dwarfish language. At your service.

'At yours.'

Bofur had been waiting for Bifur to step away and as soon as he did he flung his arms around Bilbo and hugged him. 'Can I come and visit you?' he asked as he let go, 'In the Shire, I mean?'

'Of course! As often as you like. And that goes for all of you! Tea is at four; but any of you are welcome at any time.'

The others bade him farewell after that. The last to do so was Balin. 'What about the treasure?' was the first thing he said to the hobbit.

'My share, you mean?' he laughed, 'I don't want it. You can share my bits of it with the men of Lake Town and the elves from Mirkwood, if you want.'

'Are you sure you don't-'

'I would not even know how to take it with me. Besides, I've got two chests buried in the soil in a troll cave somewhere. I'll dig them up and call them my own.'

'Quite right to, I would say,' the dwarf paused for a few seconds but eventually went on, 'Well then, goodbye to our burglar. Goodbye, Mr Bilbo Baggins. I wish you all the luck in the world.'

Bilbo mounted his pony and followed Gandalf down towards the edge of the forest. He looked over his shoulder and waved at the ten figures growing ever smaller in the distance.

'Goodbye, my friends. Farewell, Balin. And farewell, Dwalin; and farewell Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur and Bombur. May your beards never grow thing,' he whispered, laughing at the dwarf phrase he had picked up on his adventure, 'Farewell Fili and Kili. And farewell Thorin… May your memory never fade.'

Gandalf smiled at him fondly as he spoke the words. 'That has been quite a parting,' he said quietly.

Bilbo nodded. 'Yes,' he agreed, his voice shaking a little, 'But let's stop looking back. Even just for a while.' The tiny smile on his lips became bigger and soon turned into a grin. 'I'm going home.'

Hello.

So, I suppose that's it. Well, not really, of course.

While writing this, which was very difficult for me, I decided I wanted a proper ending. So I am going to write a (short) epilogue that follows this chapter. But basically, this is the end of Bilbo's journey. (And the end of Thorin. Woops.)

Please leave a review, if you want. I really want to know what you thought of this chapter and of the story in general.

Love, Luna