The next day

"No. I think that it's best that you don't join us," Thorin said.

It was early in the morning, some time after breakfast. He had decided to give Bilbo his meal this time once Óin had checked on both of them.

Bilbo was halfway done when he expressed his wishes to attend the salute and procession, which would take place in a few hours. Thorin did not believe that it would be such a good idea for him to do so.

His aforementioned statement caused Bilbo to frown. "Why not?" the latter demanded.

"You know why, love. Óin would have my head if he knew that I let you walk around Erebor. Do you think either of us want you pass out again besides? He put you on bed-rest for a reason," he pointed out calmly.

"What do you think he gave me the walking stick for?" Bilbo countered. "It isn't there to just lean against my wall, you know."

"It's not for you to use other than for an emergency either."

Sighing with irritation, he looked away.

Thorin exhaled deeply as he held him close. "Listen, Ghivashel. I understand that you are bored laying here almost all day. But this will only last for five more, though I know it seems like an eternity from your perspective. But you will survive. I was going to come back here after the salute so that you won't be alone, if that comforts you."

Bilbo did not comment. Why bother? Arguing wasn't going to help him or his condition. Becoming stressed out would only make things worse. He certainly didn't need another headache either.

He finished eating his breakfast in a stony silence, even though he felt a little happier at the idea of his return.

Thorin set his tray on the table next to the bed when his plate was empty. "I won't be very long. You will hear the horns during the salute...you can do one of your own. It's not as if you are being completely excluded from it," he remarked, leaning over for a kiss.

Bilbo pecked him on the lips somewhat grudgingly, but still did not say a word.

Caressing his cheek, he whispered, "Don't be like this, Ghivashel. You know that I wish that you could be with us as much as you do. If I had my way, I'd let you, then make sure that you came back here safely."

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter anymore. If I can't join you, then I can't. Nothing can be done about it. You ought to go...I know you have things to do before the salute."

"...Very well. Oh, and before I do, I want to you to have these."

Thorin placed two keys in his hand. "The smaller one is the key to this room, the other is to my chambers. It's around the corner here, the one that's cut off from the other four on the right. You can visit me whenever you want or need to."

Bilbo nodded. "Thank you. I will keep that in mind."

When he did not say anything else, Thorin kissed his hair and left, shaking his head as he did. He often had to wonder if his Bilbo was just as stubborn as he was, if not more so.

Bilbo felt rather guilty as he watched him shut the door. He knew that his curt responses (or lack thereof) hurt Thorin's feelings. He saw it in his eyes.

Sure, he was upset about not being able to go to the salute. Nevertheless, there was no need to take his anger out on him, no matter how much he disagreed with him. It wasn't his fault that he had to stay in his room. He sighed resignedly as he laid back down. There was nothing that he could do except take up Thorin's suggestion later.

The next two hours passed quietly. He spent most of it listening to the voices and sounds nearby or in the distance.

He was just strolling around his chamber to exercise his legs when someone knocked on the door. He laid on his bed quickly and silently.

"You can come in!" he announced once his blankets were covering him.

Fíli and Kíli entered the room.

"Good morning, Auntie Bilbo," the former declared, taking a leaf out of his younger brother's book. "We wanted to see you before the salute started."

"Why do you look so miserable?" the latter queried in concern.

Bilbo gave a tiny smile. "I'm not miserable, Kíli...only a little disappointed that I cannot join all of you. I have to remain here since I am on bed-rest. And I can't use my walking stick unless I really need to. Don't worry about me, though. I'll be fine," he replied.

His expression changed to one of sympathy. "I understand, but it's not fair for you to be here all alone. What about Uncle? Did you mention this to him?"

"Yes, but he thought that it was best that I didn't. He was worried that I would pass out."

Both he and Fíli rolled their eyes.

"Nonsense. That won't happen if you simply don't walk. Uncle could have easily realized that," the latter scoffed with irony.

"Mmm. That is true." Bilbo lit up with newfound hope then. "I have an idea! Why don't we find a way to carry me there? That way I can attend the salute and relax at the same time. I won't even have to use my legs."

They brightened as well and nodded eagerly.

"Yes, perfect! We'll just need something to carry you in," Kíli stated.

He watched as they looked over the furniture in the room.

"Here. This armchair is lighter than it seems. You aren't heavy, Bilbo, so it will still be easy to lift," Fíli added.

"Good, good. Oh, but...I don't have a suitable coat. Not yet."

He waved his hand. "You can borrow one of mine and wear it over yours. It's very cold outside; we are going to be standing on the royal balcony with Uncle and our company. So are Gandalf and Dáin."

"Thank you. I just hope that Óin won't disapprove. He is bound to."

"Don't worry about him. He can't complain since you won't be exerting yourself."

Fíli went to get his coat as Kíli handed Bilbo his own. Then he picked him up as if he were nothing but a sack of feathers and set him gently in the armchair.

Óin suddenly entered the room as he did. He all but had a conniption when he saw what Kíli was doing.

"Are you out of yer blasted mind, lad?! Master Baggins needs ta be restin'! Take that coat off o' him!" he yelled as he rushed over to them.

The said Hobbit shot Kíli an "I knew it that this may happen" look.

"Oh, calm down. Fíli and I are just taking Bilbo to the salute. He wants to go. We're just carrying him in his chair so that he doesn't have to walk," the latter tried to soothe Óin in a cheery voice.

"No! I forbid it!"

"But he isn't exerting himself in the least. Look at him...he's just sitting there, comfy and warm and adorable and cute." He had to move away then as Bilbo tried to jab him playfully.

"Ya know what?! Fine! Do as ya like! But know that yer both going ta be responsible if ya drop him an' make 'is concussion worse. An' don't say I didn't warn ya if ya do!"

"If you're so worried, why don't you just help us out then? Six hands are better than four. Or you can spot one of us so that don't we don't fall and actually drop Bilbo."

Óin groaned and buried his face in his hand.

"Look...just...just hold on, for Durin's sake," he grumbled after a minute. "I'll find two others ta help ya. I'll go with all o' ya to make sure that nothin' happens ta him. Master Baggins, are ya sure that yer all right with this?" he questioned next.

He inclined his head. "Yes, as long as they don't drop me. Besides, going to the salute is a little better than reading or staring at the ceiling when there is nothing else to do. This was my idea anyway."

"That's the spirit, A...Bilbo!" Kíli exclaimed. He nearly slipped up, but caught himself just him time. All the same, Bilbo gave him a warning stare.

Fíli returned a moment later, and Óin found Glóin and Dori in a nearby corridor. They exchanged greetings and pleasantries while Bilbo was looked over. After he was secured, and draped in Fíli's coat and extra blankets, they left the bedchamber. Óin made sure that Bilbo wasn't lifted too high.

It went without saying that their group drew a lot of attention. Many of the Dwarves from the Iron Hills laughed or waved to them as they headed for the royal balcony. Bilbo hardly noticed; he was trying to keep himself from getting too nervous.

Later, Kíli said to him in a teasing voice that he will have to get used to the attention. He would receive more than he would like in due time.

XXX

Meanwhile, Thorin was standing in the aforementioned balcony. Nearly everyone else was there save for Bombur (who volunteered to blow the horn), his nephews, Dori, Glóin, and Óin. He knew they (except Bombur) would arrive presently. There were still about ten minutes left before the salute would commence.

He wished that Bilbo could be there too. He felt sorry for him, having to remain in his bedchamber. He didn't blame him for being upset. He sighed as he watched the other balconies fill up and the Men assembling in Dale.

Thorin could see that Gandalf kept peering at him with rather somberly out of the corner of his eye; he had been since yesterday. Thorin decided to speak to him about it later. He was not in the mood to right then.

Five minutes passed. Dáin was telling him that he had considered prolonging his stay to help out with the repairs. He was just thanking him when he heard Bofur proclaim behind him, "Well, looks who's here!" Then there were cheers, applause, and laughter. Gandalf was chuckling.

What in Aulë's name...? he demanded to himself with a frown.

That was when his eyes fell on Bilbo. He was being carried in the armchair from his (Thorin's) old bedroom by his nephews, Dori, and Glóin. He was wrapped in blankets and looked abashed from all of the attention, but quite pleased all the same.

Thorin's jaw dropped as Bilbo said a joyous "Good morning" to the others. Everyone moved so that the latter could be placed next to him on his right. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to see what was going on.

"Be careful, now. Ya don't wanna jolt 'im," Óin warned his brother, Fíli, Kíli, and Dori. They inclined their heads.

It was not until Bilbo had thanked them after being safely put down did he beam at Thorin.

"Hello, there," he greeted as if he hadn't seen him more than two hours ago.

At first, Thorin was still too shocked to reply. He could only gape at him. Then a wide smile spread across his face as he shook his head lovingly. He desired nothing more than to kiss him silly right then and there. However, he knew that he couldn't yet. Not for some time.

"You never cease to amaze me, Bilbo," he remarked. "Whose idea was this?"

"Mine...but I probably wouldn't have come up with it if Fíli and Kíli hadn't come to visit me. They told me that I wouldn't have to be concerned about passing out as long as I didn't walk. I figured it would be better to be carried here. Óin objected to it until he conceded to have his brother and Dori help your nephews bring me here. At least I am still resting, in a manner of speaking."

Everyone chortled.

Thorin laughed lowly too. "Yes, I see that, my clever Hobbit. I only wish now that I had carried you myself," he whispered so that only Bilbo could hear him. He ruffled his hair.

Bilbo grinned as his face turned pink. "It's all right. The last thing I'd want is for you to strain your arm, in any case."

Suddenly, the horns blasted across Erebor and Dale. Thorin leaned down to help Bilbo stand.

"Oh, thank you," the latter murmured.

"You are welcome."

A lull fell over both the mountain and the city as the salute and procession went underway. The air was tense with mute anguish.

Even though Thorin didn't have to mourn over Bilbo, his nephews, Dáin, or any of the members of his Company, he knew that one incident would have made everything much different. His heart clenched in pain at the idea of grieving over them, especially Bilbo and his nephews, as well as paying his respects to the others who had perished.

Of course, if he had lost his dear One, he wouldn't be standing there in the balcony. He would be among the dead who were being filed past on the grounds below.

Bilbo looked just as gloomy as he felt; it was obvious that he was having similar thoughts. When he shifted, Thorin noticed that tears were in his eyes.

He (Bilbo) eventually realized that he was peering at him and grinned morosely. Thorin returned it with an understanding one, which broadened as the former reached into his pocket. He took his hand and stroked it to comfort him, silently reminding him that he was still here.

Fíli and Kíli, who stood behind them, moved closer together to keep anyone else from seeing what was going on. However, that did not stop the latter from jokingly making vomit noises behind them. Even Thorin laughed quietly at his teasing in spite of himself. He'd never understand how he and Dís had managed to raise him and his brother at all. They were just like their father and Frerin.

"This is supposed to be a solemn event," he told his immature goofball of a nephew all the same. Kíli just chuckled.

After a while, the salute and procession drew to close with one last blow of the horns. Everybody went inside to have dinner and begin the first day of mourning, a good number stopping to hug a friend or pat their back in comfort.

Thorin had Bilbo taken to the dining hall with them, knowing that he wouldn't want to return to his temporary bedchamber yet. He, as well as Óin, made sure that his nephews, Dori, and Glóin were just as careful with him as they had been on their way to the royal balcony.

He all but threw a fit when Kíli pretended to nearly let go of his part of the armchair twice. Bilbo was not startled; he would have been if the latter hadn't forewarned him and the other three lugging his chair. Nevertheless, that didn't stop Thorin from having a few sharp words with him.

"If you do it again-and I don't care if it is a joke-and actually drop him, you will be sorry," he concluded through gritted teeth.

Kíli nodded shamefacedly. "I apologize, Uncle."

Nothing else happened and they soon entered the aforementioned dining hall. Bilbo was placed on Thorin's immediate right at the table, his nephews having suggested it. They knew that their uncle wanted him to be.

"You didn't need to be so harsh with Kíli, you know. He was only in fun. It was meant to be a good laugh," Bilbo whispered as they ate their meal. They were having a private conversation.

"Be that as it may. There was nothing amusing about what he did. None of you would have thought so either if you had fallen. You could have gotten hurt; the chair could have easily slipped out of his hands. I will not tolerate him being so irresponsible...especially if the situation involves you," Thorin added.

"I understand how you feel all too well. But I mean what I said."

"I know you do. And I also meant what I said."

The rest of the hour passed by without much chatter. Almost everybody was rather subdued, but this was not unexpected given the current circumstances. Thorin spent half of that time sneaking food to Bilbo under the table when the others weren't looking. He was still too skinny. Bilbo would grin and thank him.

Gandalf continued to watch Thorin, who finally raised his eyebrow questioningly to acknowledge him. He knew that whatever he wanted must have been important if he had been trying to catch his eye.

The former confirmed this by indicating that he needed to speak to him. The latter bobbed his head to show him that he understood.

Half of the Dwarves went to the dimly lit Great Hall to mourn and share stories in small crowds once dinner was over. Thorin, Bilbo, the Company, and Dáin joined them. The other half gathered in a more private place to do so.

It was not until everything had settled down did Gandalf choose to speak to Thorin. He beckoned to him from the room's entrance to attract his attention. The said Dwarf king noticed and excused himself from his group. A sense of foreboding crept into him when he realized that the Wizard still looked rather dismal. He knew that whatever he had to tell him was not good.

"Yes? What is it?" Thorin inquired warily after standing in front of him.

Gandalf pursed his lips. "I have something very important to reveal to you. I would have sooner, but there was not much time to before the battle, and I did not think that it would be prudent to then. Nor did I think it would be immediately after. You had enough on your plate as it was. But it is about your father Thráin," he responded.

He became more alert. "What about my father? Did you find him?"

"Yes, when I had left you all at Mirkwood's entrance to attend to some personal business. He was at the place I needed to go to...an abandoned fortress. It was where Azog had created his army. If I had known that he was there, I would have gone there much sooner."

"...Oh. That's good. But where is he? Why did he not return here with you?" he queried with a frown. None of this was adding up.

Gandalf exhaled deeply. "I am so sorry to tell you this...but he is dead. He was killed before we could escape the fortress."

He didn't want to explain how Thráin was murdered. He would save that for another time, when it was crucial to.

Thorin turned pale as he gaped at him blankly. He couldn't quite believe his ears or process what he had been told.

His father had been killed. His father was...dead. So, that meant that he was right to suspect that he was still alive, but missing. Until recently, that is...

Sympathy filled the Wizard's expression as he laid a hand on his shoulder. "Again, I am very sorry. He asked me to tell you that he loves you, your sister, and his grandsons for him before he was killed. That was the last thing that he said to me. I was certain that he would be able to tell you so himself...I truly believed he would escape with me. Unfortunately, it wasn't so."

Thorin slumped as he bowed his head and nodded. Every word Gandalf uttered had finally registered in his brain.

"Thank you for letting me know this," he mumbled.

He made his way to his bedchamber, picking up a few wine bottles as he did. He was not in the mood to stay in the Great Hall any longer; he just needed to be alone.

It was not until Thorin was there did he snap. Overwhelming grief and rage coursed through him as he flung one of the bottles across the room with a yell. It shattered into pieces as it hit the wall. Wine dripped onto the carpet underneath, staining it red.

He wished that he had been the one to find his father. He had been meaning to continue searching for him after the battle. Now, it was too late. There was nothing that he could do. He couldn't even have a proper burial for him. All he could do was mourn for him while honoring him in another manner.

Of course, Thorin was not surprised that his father was dead. He suspected that he might have been. However, that didn't make it any less painful for him.

The only thing that comforted him slightly was knowing that his father loved him, as well as Dís and his nephews. That made everything a little easier to bear.

Sitting on his couch in defeat, he laid his face in his hand. His vision blurred with tears of sorrow.

"I love you too, Father," he whispered. He prayed that he arrived at the Halls of Mandos safely.

XXX

Minutes previously

Bilbo knew that something had to be wrong if Gandalf wouldn't speak to Thorin in front of them, especially when the said Wizard appeared incredibly forlorn as he waved to him.

Dwalin and Ori passed around drinks after Thorin left to see what he needed him for. Bilbo sipped his cup of wine steadily as he watched them, only half-listening to everybody in his group.

A few moments later, he saw Thorin droop, then nod before trudging out of the Great Hall. He took three bottles of wine with him as he did. Gandalf looked after him sadly.

He knew it; something was wrong. He wondered what happened to cause that look of despair on Thorin's face.

Gandalf must have sensed Bilbo's curiosity because he strolled over to them.

Balin saw him approaching and frowned at his expression. "What is the matter?" he queried. He too realized that there may be a problem.

Everyone else turned to hear his answer.

Gandalf sighed. "I regret having to say this, but Thorin's father, Thráin, had been killed a short time ago. He was murdered as we attempted to escape the place where he had been taken prisoner."

Bilbo's jaw dropped. The others were either as horror-struck as he felt, numb, or grief-stricken over hearing this dreadful news. None of them could think of what to say.

He eventually closed his mouth as Gandalf whispered something to Fíli and Kíli. Neither of them gave a response, just inclined their heads. Then he came over to him.

"I know that I may not have to tell you this, my friend, but Thorin will prefer to be alone. He will want to take this all in at his own pace. After that, be there for him as much as you can. He needs you. Knowing Thorin, comfort and an outlet will be best for him. Otherwise, he will only bottle up his pain," he murmured in his ear.

Bilbo nodded. He really didn't need this advice; he wouldn't have bothered Thorin anyhow. He knew that he would need time by himself. And, of course, he would be there for him whenever he needed him.

"I understand, and I will," he said.

Gandalf clapped his back before taking the wine that Dwalin offered him. "Thank you."

"We ought to have a toast for Thorin's father and honor his memory," Balin declared matter-of-factly. He lifted his goblet. "To Thráin!"

"Thráin!" everybody chorused. They drank deeply from their cups afterwards.

It did not take long for word of Thráin's death to spread. Many more toasts were performed subsequently, and stories about him were told. Bilbo only listened to them with vague interest. He was more concerned about how Thorin must be handling everything.

He was not certain of how many hours had passed before he decided to leave the Great Hall too. He was tired of being there and wanted to check on Thorin. If he didn't want to talk, that was fine. But he wanted to be sure that he was as well as could be expected under the circumstances.

Bilbo asked to be carried to his temporary room. He would sneak into Thorin's after. He knew that he would have to answer prying questions if he asked to be taken there instead.

Soon, he was being laid on his bed. Fíli, Kíli, Bofur, and Óin said good-night to him after the latter had checked his injuries.

He waited until he could no longer hear their footsteps before getting up. He took his walking stick with him just in case and left the room.

When he was in front of Thorin's door, he knocked on it. There was no answer or sign of movement.

Bilbo unlocked it after doing so two more times with the same results and closed it behind him.

"Thorin? It's me," he half-shouted.

Still no reply.

He wandered across what looked like a den and a small library combined. A sofa and an armchair stood in the middle of the room, as well as a desk and a bookshelf. He couldn't see very much because it was dark.

The bedroom was connected to it. Everything in it was larger and more impressive than the one he was sleeping in. He couldn't help but marvel over the fact that this would also be his room in the near future.

It was here that he found Thorin, who was sitting on the couch by the fireplace. He was clutching a wine bottle as he gazed into the hearth unseeingly. There was a red stain one of the walls. Broken glass littered the floor underneath it.

"Óin would have a fit if he knew that you were here, and not in your room," he suddenly grumbled.

Bilbo jumped, startled. Apparently, Thorin had noticed him.

"I...I don't doubt it...but that matters little to me right now. I came to see you; I was beginning to feel concerned. Let me take this. You've had all you needed of it, I'm sure," he remarked as he perched next to him. He slid the bottle out of his hand with ease. It was obvious that he was too worn out from grief to argue. He placed it on the table. "I'm sorry for your loss. Your father was an extraordinary person. I know that you must miss him and I wish that I knew him personally," he added.

Thorin shot him an empty smile. Dried tears were on his face. "Thank you, Ghivashel. I do miss him. Your compliment would have pleased him. I know that he would have liked you too. And don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

Bilbo wrapped his arms around him. Thorin leaned into him as he stroked his back and hummed quietly.

"I'm glad that you came. Thank you," the latter repeated.

"You're welcome. It's no problem," the former said.

Neither of them realized how mentally exhausted they were. The long, gloomy day finally started to take its toll on them. They soon drifted off to sleep.

XXX

Later that evening, Bilbo awakened to Thorin kissing his cheek and lifting him up.

He frowned at him tiredly. "What's the matter?" he inquired.

"Nothing, love. I just want to take you back to your room. I don't want Óin to find you here if he comes to check on me," Thorin replied.

"I wish I could stay here with you."

"Don't fret over it. I will join you soon. You can sleep in here another time."

Bilbo did not have to wait long for his return. He was dozing peacefully when he felt the bed sink.

Thorin laid his head on his chest a moment after. "Still up?" he whispered.

"Hardly," Bilbo grunted.

He chuckled once. "Then I won't bother you. Let us go back to sleep. I love you. And thank you again, for being there for me."

Bilbo kissed him deeply. "I love you too, and know that I always will be there for you if I can manage it, Âzyungâl."