Balin still had nightmares about the dragon-sickness. Sometimes when he closed his eyes he still saw the cold remoteness in their king's face, saw him adorned with furs and jewels like some sanctimonious god, heard the dragon creeping through his breath like smoke. But the worst were the nightmares from that morning at the Gate, the prelude to the Battle, when Bilbo declared that he had been the one to take the Arkenstone.
Of course in his nightmares, Thorin always succeeded in throwing him over the edge. And Balin was always forced to watch as the hobbit's fragile body broke on the rocks below.
But although this memory haunted his dreams, it was not the first one he thought of when he remembered their hobbit.
He had gone off alone after his council with Thorin because he couldn't bear to let the rest of the Company see just how shaken he really was. The sickness had spread much further and faster than he had anticipated, and it seemed that the king who had earned their devotion, their trust, their love, had been thoroughly corrupted.
Bilbo, of course, could always be counted upon. For one who claimed to want a peaceful life, he always seemed to be right at the center of things.
Struggling to regain his composure, Balin said, "Dragon-sickness. I've seen it before. That look…the terrible need…it is a fierce and jealous love, Bilbo. It sent his grandfather mad."
Bilbo stepped toward him, having apparently come to a decision.
"Balin…" he began. "If Thorin had the Arkenstone…" He paused to give Balin a meaningful look, and Balin suddenly grew very still.
"If it was found…would it help…?" The hobbit trailed off, as though he couldn't bring himself to finish.
Balin hesitated for a moment, caught between fear and wonder. When he had left the halfling to face almost certain death, he had been more concerned by the fact that Smaug was a large, fire-breathing, possibly still alive dragon, and Bilbo was very, very small. A whole host of dwarves had not been able to slay the beast and now they were sending a hobbit, their hobbit, into the snake pit?
He had never actually believed Bilbo would find the Arkenstone.
He is a burglar after all, Balin thought. And a lot more besides.
"That stone crowns all," he said aloud. "It is the summit of this great wealth, bestowing power upon he who wears it. Will it stay his madness? No, laddie. I fear it would make it worse. Perhaps it is best if it remains lost." He raised his eyebrows just slightly, hoping to convey everything in his heart and more through the tiniest gesture.
Bilbo frowned and was silent for a long time, and though everything was undeniably grim, Balin felt comforted. Not just in the realization that someone else understood- truly understood- the seriousness of Thorin's sickness, but that that someone was Mister Baggins. Brave, kind, clever Bilbo Baggins.
"Bilbo, my lad," Balin said, but his throat choked up with a sudden flood of emotion. He swallowed hard. "I am so sorry that we have brought you to such peril. We had no right."
Bilbo looked at him then, and his expression was at once sad and calm and wise. "You didn't bring me, Balin," he said. "I brought myself. It was entirely my decision, in the end. And that's how far I'm willing to go. I will follow you all to the end."
Balin's face twisted with anguish.
We had no right.
He could not speak, however, even if he wanted to, so he yanked the hobbit into a rough embrace and said not a word.
"We'll get through this, Balin," Bilbo whispered. "I'll make sure of it."
A/N: Hey, folks, sorry it's so short but I don't want to bore you with what you've most likely already seen in the movie (if you're like me, fifty trillion times). Still, that's one of my favorite scenes between Balin and Bilbo and I couldn't resist expanding upon it.