It took some time to get them both bathed. Despite Bilbo's promise that he would not actively end his own life, he was still upset by the twists fate had thrown their way and was not much help. He would follow direct orders and would hold himself in whatever position Thorin placed him in, but he would do nothing if it was not ordered of him. His face remained blank and he stared aimlessly into the distance with unseeing eyes. This listlessness broke Thorin's heart almost more than the madness itself did. At least during the brief bouts of madness Bilbo still had fire within him. This . . . there was nothing left of the hobbit Thorin loved. Bilbo was broken and there was nothing that Thorin could do to fix him.
With gentle hands and soft, firm words, Thorin coaxed Bilbo out of the tub and back into clean clothes to make the trek through the house back to their room. Bilbo allowed himself to be led, but his eyes never rose to meet Thorin's concerned gaze. Once there he sat listlessly on the edge of the bed and stared at his hands. Thorin spent a moment placing his things on the dresser before he turned to the hobbit.
"Bilbo," he said, his voice holding the undercurrent of command that was all that seemed to reach his hobbit at the moment, "look at me." While it was clear that the movement was a reluctant one, Bilbo complied with the order, though once he had Thorin almost wished that he would have refused. There was such pain in his hazel eyes that Thorin had no idea how to even begin to soothe it away.
"You can't do this to yourself," Thorin said kneeling before the hobbit and placing his hands gently on either side of Bilbo's face. "You cannot continue to torture yourself like this."
"Why not?" Bilbo replied miserably, reaching up slowly to touch Thorin's cheek and run his thumb over the dwarf's cheekbone just below his eye. "I can see what I have done to you. Even when you were dying your eyes didn't hold this much pain. And it's my fault!" With the last words he pulled his hand away and tried to turn his head only to be stopped by the inescapable force of Thorin's hands.
"No," Thorin disagreed. "It pains me to see you going through what you are going through, but that is not your fault, Bilbo. You cannot control the madness, you have told me as much yourself. I cannot hold you responsible for something that you have no control over any more than you can hold me responsible for the fact that I died. This. Is. Not. Your. Fault."
"But—"
"No," Thorin cut him off. "I will hear no more of this, Bilbo. If you want me to try to help you I will but I will not listen to you blaming yourself for this. I will not sit by and watch as you allow guilt to eat you whole. You are stronger than this, Bilbo Baggins. What happened to the hobbit that stood toe-to-toe with three trolls and tried to talk his way out of being eaten, and now you are going to allow your own guilt to devour you? What about the Bilbo Baggins that played riddles in the darkness of the Misty Mountains to keep from becoming a meal? You are strong enough to survive this as well.
"Even if you don't believe it, trust me," Thorin continued with a deep sigh. "If you do not believe that you are stronger than this then clearly I know you better than you know yourself. You can defeat this, Bilbo. And . . . I am here to help. You are not alone in this, Bilbo. I am here. Gandalf is here. Dwalin, Balin and Bofur are here. And you have Frodo. That lad loves you, Bilbo. We all do. Let us help."
"How can I?" Bilbo asked, tears leaking from his eyes once more. "How can I do that, Thorin? It is not fair of me to force that on you. On them. You, all of you, deserve better than to babysit some mad hobbit and watch me to see if something innocent is about to turn me into a murderous orc. How can I ask that of you? How can I burden you like that?"
"You are not asking it, Bilbo," Thorin said drawing the hobbit against him and laying them both on the bed. "We are offering it because we love you. You are no burden to me. You never have been. No matter what I may have once said. I love you and will take you as you are, madness included. All I will ask in return is that you not force me to watch as you berate yourself for things you have no control over. Does that sound fair?"
"I will try, Thorin," Bilbo sighed resting his head on the dwarf's shoulder. "I can make no promises but I will try."
"That's all I ask," Thorin replied pressing a gentle chaste kiss to Bilbo's curls. "Sleep, âzyungâl," Thorin whispered, stroking Bilbo's back soothingly. "I am certain that things will look better in the morning." Bilbo wasn't sure that he agreed with Thorin, but the offer of sleep was too tempting to pass up. With the hope of a brief escape from his guilt and fear Bilbo allowed the soothing circles Thorin was tracing into his skin and the low humming coming from his chest to lull him into sleep.
ooOO88OOoo
Thorin had been wrong. Things did not look better in the morning. In fact, things were even worse for poor Bilbo. Where before he had been able to pretend things were normal when he wasn't in the middle of a fit of madness and delude himself that it had never happened, now . . . that was impossible. Even though Thorin had not told him that the others knew what was going on, Bilbo knew that they knew. It was there in the forced brightness of their smiles, their laughs. Even in the way that they had greeted him that morning.
It had taken Thorin some time to convince Bilbo that it was worth it to get up and get dressed. He didn't feel up to it. Up to going out and seeing people and . . . anything more than going back to sleep was too much for him to consider. He felt so tired and at the same time . . . felt nothing. It had only been when Thorin had threatened to dress him like a child that Bilbo had flared somewhat back to life. His rage at the indignity of his lover doing such a thing to him giving him the energy to rise and dress. But once he did, he felt more drained than he had before.
"Thorin," he had pleaded, his voice faint even to his own ears, "can't I just stay in here today? Please."
"What of food?" Thorin had replied. "I will not aid you in becoming more reclusive so that you can wallow in misery, Bilbo. If you want to eat you need to come to the table. Are you not hungry?" Bilbo meant to deny his hunger and protest his right to stay but his stomach chose that moment to give a loud rumble, even if Bilbo didn't feel the discomfort that came from hunger. He didn't feel anything outside of regret, shame and sorrow.
"I thought as much," Thorin had said with a gentle smirk. "You missed dinner last night. Come," he offered his hand to the hobbit waiting for Bilbo to accept it.
"I could survive missing more meals than that," Bilbo had replied in a toneless voice. "I've missed more than one in the past. In fact, even the days that we ate well on the quest I missed four most days."
"You will not miss another if I can help it," Thorin sighed. "Now, come along."
"I don't feel hungry," Bilbo confessed. "I don't really feel anything." Thorin felt his blood freeze in his veins at the pronouncement. How could Bilbo feel nothing? He swallowed heavily and tried to keep his concern from his voice when next he spoke.
"In that case, come keep me company while I eat," Thorin had countered. "Without you the only company I have is Bofur, Balin and Dwalin—who laugh at my expense—Frodo—who still seems to be a bit intimidated by me—and Gandalf, who . . . well, you know how well Gandalf and I get along. Will you truly condemn me to the fate of their company alone?" He was pleased to see the ghost of a smile on Bilbo's face and the faintest spark of merriment in his hazel eyes.
"Very well, I will come sit at breakfast with you," Bilbo sighed. "Pushy dwarf."
"Eternally," Thorin agreed. "Thank you for agreeing to this, Bilbo." The hobbit gave no reply but accepted the proffered hand and allowed Thorin to pull him to his feet. With a long-suffering sigh, Bilbo allowed himself to be led out of his bedroom and into the excessively bright hall of his home and into the kitchen where more sound was emanating than should be allowed at any time let alone before breakfast.
"Good morning, all," Thorin called to alert them to their presence. At his words all conversation ceased and everyone turned to look at him and Bilbo—who had moved so that he was slightly behind the dwarf, almost as if the stares of his friends and companions were arrows and Thorin a shield.
"Bilbo!" Bofur called with even more than his usual cheer before standing and moving towards Thorin and the hobbit in question. It broke his heart to see how reserved and timid Bilbo had become overnight. This was worse than he had been at the start of the quest. The hobbit seemed to be afraid of them. Thorin was right. The madness was taking Bilbo away from them. There was hardly anything left of the intelligent, courageous and witty hobbit that had gone questing with them and managed to cow a King into submission on more than one occasion. The Bilbo before him was just a shell. One that would break if not handled carefully. Realizing this, he changed tactics. When he continued, his voice was soft, one to be used with a skittish animal, not a long-time friend.
"I take it you slept well?" Bofur said gently, his smile soft and only his eyes showing the pain he felt at seeing his friend like this. "Come! We have breakfast ready. We cooked all of your favorites."
"Yes!" Balin agreed, his voice falling nearly painfully on Bilbo's ears with the cheer that had been forced into it and causing the hobbit to flinch. "We even cooked mushrooms. Frodo was kind enough to show us how it should be done. Claimed that we were just going to ruin them."
"You were," Frodo replied with a laugh. "They were trying to cook them in oil, Uncle. OIL! And with naught but pepper for seasoning! Dwarves know nothing of how to cook decent mushrooms. But don't worry. I set them straight before they could ruin them."
"That you did, lad," Dwalin said, his voice soft, gentle, with his repentance for his part in Bilbo's trips into insanity. He had vowed to himself that he would do nothing to provoke Bilbo that day. His heart would not allow it. If he was to be the cause of madness, he would be sure that he could find no fault in his actions.
"You have a smart lad, Bilbo," Dwalin praised, knowing that it had been his perceived lack of value of hobbits and their culture that had caused most of their arguments. "I never knew that there was a correct way to cook mushrooms before, but they do smell delicious. Perhaps I will have to try them." Dwalin cursed himself as Bilbo's blank face took on a pained expression. He knew then that he had overdone it and hurt the hobbit in a different way. It seemed lately that he could do nothing right as far as his interactions with Bilbo Baggins were concerned.
Dwalin's overcompensation for his part in Bilbo's anger was the first thing to get through to the hobbit since Thorin had spoken to him in the bath. If Dwalin was treating him delicately . . . it was only a sign of just how damaged he had become. If Dwalin, the most dwarvish of the dwarves that he knew, was going to willingly try mushrooms to prove to Bilbo that he valued hobbits . . . the thought brought tears to his eyes at how much he was affecting his friends and he tried to flee back to his room only to be stopped by Thorin's hand applying gentle pressure to his arm.
"You promised to sit with me, remember?" Thorin asked gently. "So let's sit." Bilbo didn't fight as he was led to the bench and seated upon it. He didn't have the energy and even if he had, Thorin would win if he tried to fight him if the dwarf truly wanted to. So Bilbo sat, staring blankly at the table until there was a plate placed in his line of sight. He vaguely registered that there were mushrooms, roasted tomatoes, bacon and eggs filling it but felt no pleasure at the sight.
"Are you going to taste them?" Thorin asked. "They did cook them just for you, âzyungâl. It would be a shame for them to go uneaten."
"I'm not hungry," Bilbo reminded him.
"Just taste them," Thorin prompted. "At least let them know if they did well. That is all that I ask." Bilbo sighed and picked up his fork before spearing a mushroom and looking at it expressionlessly before popping it into his mouth and chewing it. It nearly dissolved on his tongue and a small portion of his mind whispered that it was delicious.
"What do you think, Uncle?" Frodo asked, looking hopefully at Bilbo. "Did we do alright? I know that you always cook them, but I think that I followed your recipe." Bilbo offered him a wan smile.
"You did well," Bilbo offered. "They are quite delicious." To prove his point and in an attempt to erase the sadness from Frodo's eyes, Bilbo ate another. He ate slowly, methodically, with no real drive or need to do so but before he knew it, his plate was empty. He tried to ignore the happy smiles that the others sent his empty plate but he couldn't help but feel pleased that he had made them happy by doing something so small as eating. He only wished that he could find joy in it.
ooOO88Oooo
Bilbo's mood lasted through the morning. He would speak when spoken to, and move when he was directed to do so, but none of his actions were truly voluntary and any movement was accompanied by a world-weary sigh. Everyone was worried about him, but none more so than Gandalf. The wizard watched with a heavy heart as Bilbo went through the motions of life with no real motivation to do so. He couldn't help but feel that it was his fault. He knew that this was due to the Ring, and knew that he should have separated it from Bilbo years ago. Perhaps ever right after the quest. But he had let it remain.
Sometimes it was difficult for him to keep track of the passage of time. Even if things around him changed, the change in most cases was so slow that it was unnoticeable until it was too far gone. Bilbo's lack of aging had fooled him and it was only once he had realized that it was the hobbit's 111th birthday and Frodo's maturity that reminded him that it had been sixty years. Rather than speak to Frodo that day, he sat in the corner with his pipe and watched Bilbo closely. What he saw disturbed him deeply. His expression flickered between sorrow and anger almost as if he was undergoing a small mental war with himself. He had originally intended to leave it until after Bilbo's birthday, but he hadn't realized just how deeply rooted this problem was. He rapidly decided that he and Thorin would have to attempt it that night. He would just have to figure out how to get them alone with Bilbo. None of the others needed to see or hear what might happen.
ooOO88OOoo
It was lunch time before Bilbo truly showed life. They had finished the meal, Bilbo once again eating mechanically, and Thorin was preparing to leave for work. He eyed the hobbit warily before he sighed. Bilbo couldn't leave the house like this.
"Will you look after him while I'm at work?" Thorin asked Gandalf from across the table, knowing that the wizard was perhaps the most qualified for the task as he seemed to have at least some knowledge of what was going on.
"Thorin," Gandalf replied with a sad smile, "you need not ask. I have been looking after Bilbo for you for sixty years. I think I can manage him for an afternoon."
"And just who says that I need looking after?" Bilbo snapped, shooting to his feet and glaring angrily at the two of them. "I have been looking after myself for longer than I care to remember! I DO NOT need the two of you to talk about me as if I am a child! I can look after myself!"
"Bilbo," Thorin murmured, reaching for the hobbit and attempting to draw him into his arms as the madness stirred in his eyes once more. Rather than allow himself to be comforted, Bilbo slapped his hands away.
"NO!" the hobbit snarled. "You do not get to touch me, Thorin Oakenshield. The only reasons that I have ever needed to be looked after were your fault and neither time did you care enough about me to look after me yourself."
"Now Bilbo," Balin cut in, "that's not true and you know it. Thorin loves you. He has always taken good care of you."
"Really?!" Bilbo scoffed. "Was he taking good care of me when he ignored me at the beginning of the quest that he drug me from my nice warm home to go on? When he allowed me to come into the wild without a weapon and failed to even consider teaching me how to use it once I did acquire one? When he didn't even notice that I had been lost in Goblin Town? What about when he sent me in alone to face down a dragon?"
"That last bit was what you were contracted for," Bofur added trying to sway Bilbo with logic. Even if it was a distorted version of events, Thorin's action did sound particularly negligent when strung together in that way.
"A contract he never needed to present me with if he wasn't so focused on reclaiming that damned mountain," Bilbo countered. "He loves that mountain more than he ever loved anything else in his life." Thorin's eyes went wide as he realized just what Bilbo was about to say. He prayed that he was wrong but he knew what was about to come and from the faces of the others, they did as well.
"Please," Thorin whispered. "Stop." Rather than stop, Bilbo laughed cruelly before he turned back to Thorin, madness and hatred in his eyes. The hatred was new and Thorin had to wonder why it was suddenly there. He wondered if Gandalf was correct in the fact that the Ring had a consciousness of its own and had realized that he posed a threat to its continued possession of Bilbo, but those thoughts were soon driven from his mind and replaced with a nearly blind rage as the thing-that-looked-like-Bilbo spoke once more.
"What?" he asked sarcastically. "Are you afraid of the truth, O Great King Under the Mountain? Do you not wish to be reminded that you traded my love and the lives of your nephews for riches and a mountain that you didn't even get to keep? Does it haunt you to know that their blood is on your hands as surely as if you had gutted them yourself? That it would have been more humane of you to snap their tiny little necks straight from the womb so that you would have spared your sister the agony of raising sons only to have them stripped from her arms and murdered by the very brother that should have—"
Bilbo's words were cut off as Thorin slammed him into the wall, one hand on his shoulder and the other around his throat. There was shock on his face for a moment before it twisted into a grin of satisfaction. Even though his rage at the words, Thorin felt trepidation coil in his stomach. He had the distinct feeling that he had played right into the hands of the madness and had given it ammunition in the war for Bilbo's mind.
"So that's what it took, hm?" Bilbo purred his eyes half-lidded in what almost looked like lust and his hand coming up to caress the back of Thorin's hand that was around his throat. "All I had to do was bring up Fíli and Kíli's blood on your hands to bring back the murder that I still see in my nightmares."
"I have no intention of murdering you, Bilbo," Thorin replied. "But I will not allow you to speak such bitter lies to me. Not about them."
"Lies?" Bilbo scoffed. "That's not what you believed them to be the day before yesterday. I believe those were nearly the same words that you spoke to me. Or did you lie about your remorse over their deaths and the lack of love you showed them in life? You know, perhaps it is a good thing they died. The sight of their proud, kingly Uncle working in a forge for a hobbit because he's too much of a coward to return to his kingdom and claim what is his for fear of his own lack of self-control would have shamed them beyond endurance. They would have died from it. Perhaps it's good that they never lived to see you sink so low, Thorin. Perhaps it was kinder that you killed them so early in their lives." At the last words, Thorin flinched as if Bilbo had struck him before his eyes filled with tears and rage and he abruptly released the hobbit before turning and storming out the front door.
Silence filled the kitchen for a couple of moments at what Bilbo had dared to say to Thorin, while the hobbit glared after him triumphantly. Then Bilbo blinked a couple of times and the madness in his eyes and the hardness of his expression faded. With a quite moan, his features took on a look of confusion. He looked at the shocked, horrified expressions of his friends and heir and felt shame flood his veins that they had been there to witness his latest foray into madness.
"Wha-what just happened?" Bilbo asked quietly in a small, lost voice. "Where is—OH GODS!" He sobbed as the memory of what had just said to Thorin returned. He sank to the floor, bowed under the severity of what he had just done. He would be lucky if Thorin ever decided to return after what he had just said. That had been beyond below the belt. He was shocked at the cruelty that he had been capable of. He's gone forever, he thought miserably. And I do not blame him. Not after that. I cannot ask him to endure that.
It is fine, my love, another voice whispered within him, one that he had never heard before and that felt cold and cruel but familiar and comfortable at the same time. We do not need the dwarf. He has hurt us before. We have all that we need right here, do we not?
Bilbo wanted to tell the voice that it was wrong, that he did need Thorin, but suddenly the image of Thorin's angry eyes as he slammed Bilbo into the wall only moments before rose to his mind before being replaced by the memory of Thorin as he had looked as he attempted to end Bilbo's life. His eyes were nearly the same and for the first time, doubt began to creep into Bilbo's mind about whether Thorin truly could be trusted not to relapse.
ooOO88OOoo
There we are all, a new chapter. Sorry about this one . . . it's a bit dark. Seems like most of my stuff has taken a dark turn lately but there is light on the horizon :) I promise. Just bear with me.
As always, thank you to everyone who took the time to read this chapter or to add it to your alerts or favorites.
And a special thank you to those of you who reviewed.
Guest: It wasn't particularly late :) I'm sorry that it haunts you but I am glad that it keeps itself in your mind :) and your favorite? Really!? Thank you so much! And of course I would thank you! You took the time to write me a review the least I can do is thank you for it :) And that is a very amusing mental image. Thank you for it!
Guest: I'm glad that you are enjoying it! I hope that you continue to do so :)
That's all for now folks. I hope you enjoyed it and would love to know what you think (even if you hated it) so please leave me a review if you have time and/or feel so inclined.
Stickdonkeys