"Chapter 21"
A/N: I know I grossed you out last chapter. Apologies are mine!
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"Stretch, lad! Stretch!" Bofur's voice, although raised, was soft and gentle. From that alone, Bilbo knew that the Dwarf was not upset, merely engrossed in his directing. Sitting alone reading on a bench, he silently watched his nephew and the Dwarf who were currently across the courtyard. Bofur, as the unofficial "go-to" healer, was at the moment teaching Frodo certain stretches and exercises that allowed the young hobbit to stretch out the stiffened muscles in his injured leg, hoping that they would lessen the limp he had. They had been doing this for about two weeks, in between self-defense lessons Dwalin helped teach, and Bilbo was glad that his nephew was showing marked improvement. His walking was more limber and smooth now—not completely normal, and the limp was still there—but it was better.
Bofur frowned, however, from where he stood. Frodo was seated on the ground, his injured leg stretched out straight like it should be but the young hobbit simply was not putting any effort into it today.
"What's wrong, lad?"
Frodo shook his head. "Hurts," was all he said, but Bofur understood.
He sighed. "Well, no use overworking strained muscles. We'll call it a day, huh?" He helped the hobbit to his feet and walked over to where Bilbo sat.
"What's wrong?" Bilbo asked immediately, concerned. "Frodo?"
When all his nephew did was mutely shake his head, Bofur intervened. "Just sore muscles is all," he explained.
"Ah." For a moment, Bilbo was silent, then turned back to his nephew. "Why don't you go relax in our rooms?" he suggested finally. "Or take a bath—that always seems to help."
When Frodo had gone, Bilbo stared after him in worry. Bofur nudged him before seating himself, pulling the hobbit from his thoughts.
"The lad is fine, Bilbo," he said quietly.
It really was quite amazing how well Bofur could read him, Bilbo thought idly. How all of the Dwarves could read him. His hand came up without conscious thought and grabbed the ring he kept there, something that Bofur noticed. Of course his sharp eyes missed little.
"Bilbo, what are you handling?"
The hobbit started. "Pardon me?"
Bofur nodded in the direction of his pocket. "What d'you have there in your pocket?"
"What has it gots in its pocketsess?" The cold snarl of Gollum caused Bilbo to shiver, its memory still capable of causing fear. He looked at Bofur again, and his fingers curled convulsively around the small band of gold. He felt reluctant to speak. What do you want with it? he asked in his mind, but when he finally did speak, he was able to do so calmly.
"Just the ring I found on the Quest."
Bofur raised an eyebrow. "The one you got from that Gollum-creature? The one you said you won?"
"What's it to you?" Bilbo asked, almost snapping, then he realized how rude he sounded and immediately apologized. "I'm sorry, Bofur—"
The Dwarf shrugged, then stood, but his gaze had gone oddly cool. "Suppose it's not my business," he replied, interrupting before the hobbit could carry on, but his expression was almost suspicious as he looked at Bilbo. "I'll take my leave, then. Good day, Bilbo."
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He went to find Thorin. Bofur had to share his suspicions with someone, and he decided that the Dwarf-king was the best option. And if he couldn't find Thorin then Kili would be the next best option. By a stroke of luck, he found them both in Thorin's study, discussing an issue with the Northern entrance. When they heard the door open, they turned as one.
"Bofur," the Dwarf-king said. Kili was frowning, as if he could already sense the tension the other Dwarf was feeling.
"Thorin," Bofur replied. "Kili. I've come in concern for Bilbo."
Neither Kili nor Bofur missed Thorin's tensing. "What's happened?"
Bofur shook his head. "I don't know—and that's the problem. I was talking with him just now and he became—rather short when I asked him what he had in his coat pocket. He snapped it was simply the ring he found, but there was something off about the way he said it—like he didn't think he could trust telling me that."
"But… why would he be afraid for a ring?" Kili asked blankly, clearly thrown. "Why would he think we would take it?"
"Maybe it holds something over him, like a spell," Thorin said quietly, and the weight of his own past with the gold sickness had darkened his face. His companions paused to consider that, but for his sake they did not speak aloud of Thorin's mistake.
"What should we do?" Bofur asked, looking to the thoughtful Dwarf-king.
For a long moment, Thorin merely considered their options. Then finally he shook himself. "Nothing," he replied. "Not now. We'll be watchful, but this is the first instance of such a behavior, yes?" He waited until Bofur nodded before he continued. "We'll make sure the others are notified about what's happened—but there will be no confrontations about this."
For a long moment, none of them moved—but finally, with a swift glance at each other, Kili and Bofur nodded in agreement.
Once alone by himself, though, Thorin sat heavily into the chair behind him and thought about what Bofur had said. It was concerning, yes—and something that needed watching.
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"Ready for bed, my lad?" Bilbo asked. It was late enough now that he was holding back his yawns.
Seated on their bed, Frodo nodded. "Yes, Uncle."
Bilbo smiled fondly at him, grateful beyond words that his lad was speaking again—albeit softly, and in only a word or two, but that didn't matter a bit to the older hobbit. As long as his nephew was willing to at least speak that much he was not going to complain. He paused for a long moment and simply looked the younger hobbit over. "You're about ready to head home, I'd think," he said.
Frodo looked up at him in surprise, unprepared for such a remark, but then he grinned sheepishly and nodded slightly. Quickly Bilbo did a quick count-up in his head and realized with a jolt that he and Frodo had been gone from the Shire nearly five months now. Certainly long enough for a young tween to be missing his home. Yes, he realized, very soon they would have to leave for the Shire.
"Perhaps we can celebrate our Birthday here together and then leave before winter sets in," he remarked with a wink. His nephew smiled, having almost forgotten their Birthday. Hopefully this one would be one to remember.
If Bilbo felt any wish to remain in Erebor for good, he kept it carefully to himself.