Chapter 42
"This place looks so weird."
Bilbo brushed some soil from his hands and looked up as Kíli entered the room. "And what's so weird about it?"
"I dunno. I guess I've never seen plants…stacked before."
The greenhouse did look rather unconventional. It was filled with metal racks, each stacked with trays filled with soil. Any plant life that had been here before had withered and died—Bilbo guessed Smaug hadn't had much of a green thumb.
And although they had enough food in storage to last them years, Bilbo had taken it upon himself to restore the greenhouse and fill it with life again. It was nice to get back into gardening, even in such an unconventional space.
"I suppose it does look a little strange," Bilbo said with a small laugh. "I was sort of expecting this to be all red light, like some creepy photo lab."
Kíli walked over and lifted his chin to try and get a look at the shelf he was working on. "What are you growing here?"
Bilbo indicated a stool he could pull over. "Carrots. I was thinking, since this place has a greater variety of food than we had at the farm, I could start baking again. Might be able to scrape together a shepherd's pie one day…" He sighed wistfully. "Maybe we could have some real bread."
Kíli climbed on top of the stool and peered over the edge of the tray. "They're already growing!"
Bilbo grinned. "It's going to take another couple of weeks before they're ready. Do you want to help me water them?"
Kíli nodded eagerly, and Bilbo passed him the watering can.
"Not too much, okay? You don't want to drown them." He moved on to the next tray over. "It's good that we won't really have to worry about the seasons, either. We can grow pretty much whatever we want, provided we can find the right—oh, for god's sake, Nori!"
"What?" Kíli glanced over and Bilbo reached out to pluck a small green sprout from the corner of the tray.
"He thinks he can start a pot farm in the middle of the apocalypse… Not in my greenhouse," Bilbo grumbled, tossing the sprout into a bucket at his feet. "I thought I got rid of all his seeds last week."
Kíli snickered and lowered the watering can. "Why? Is it a bad plant, or something?"
"It's ridiculous, is what it is." Bilbo shook his head in exasperation. "Look, I know this sort of thing isn't really relevant anymore, but you must never try any drugs, alright?"
He furrowed his brow. "Uh…okay."
"Good." Bilbo nodded, satisfied. "Now, let's go check on the parsley."
They walked over to another section of the room, pausing along the way to fill up the watering can. Bilbo prodded at the tiny green leaves, humming quietly to himself.
"Can I ask you something?" Kíli set the watering can on the floor and stretched.
"Sure."
"What do you think would've happened, if you hadn't found us in your apartment?"
Bilbo looked at him with an unsure smile, surprised at his question. "Kíli, that was a long time ago. Why are you wondering about that now?"
He shrugged. "I dunno. I guess I've been thinking about how…how things would've been different."
"Well, just don't let yourself get wrapped up in that." He patted him on the shoulder. "As for your question…I'd like to think you would have made it back to your parents eventually. Either Thorin would have found you, or someone else would have helped you along the way."
"And what about you?"
Bilbo tilted his head and thought for a moment. "Well, I'd probably be dead."
"What?"
He shrugged. "I mean, I wasn't much of a survivor before I met you all. I was doing alright, but I get the feeling it wouldn't have lasted." He smiled. "Thorin and the rest taught me how to fight, gave me a reason to fight."
"Yeah." Kíli swung his arms aimlessly as he looked around. "And now we're here. Putting plants on shelves."
Bilbo snorted. "You make that sound like a bad thing."
"I just don't wanna get bored."
"Oh, don't you dare jinx us." Bilbo reached over to tweak his ear, and Kíli ducked away. "After all that? I would be more than happy to spend the rest of my days doing the exact same thing over and over again."
"Yeah, I guess." Kíli nudged some loose soil with the toe of his sneaker. "I mean, if things do change, I want it to be for the better."
Bilbo nodded, his expression softening. "I do, too."
The door swung open, and Tilda's dirty blonde hair flashed between a pair of shelves. "Kíli!"
He waved to her. "Over here!"
She ran to them, her face flushed with youthful exertion. "Bofur and Bombur got the pool working!"
Kíli brightened. "Really?"
Bilbo blinked. "Wait, we have a pool?"
"Come on, let's go check it out!" Tilda gestured for him to follow, then darted from the room.
Kíli turned to look at Bilbo. "Are you coming with us?"
"I guess I'd better."
"I'll race you there!" Kíli tore across the room.
Bilbo watched him with a smile, shaking his head, then hurried after him.
Thorin drew himself from sleep slowly, wakefulness trickling in like the light before dawn. Once he'd gained enough awareness, his brow twitched—the room was dark, and smelled unfamiliar. His hand brushed against soft sheets, the arm flung over his bare chest…
Bilbo.
He relaxed slightly as memory reasserted itself. They were in Erebor, in the apartment they shared, in the bed they had all to themselves. Thorin sighed and closed his eyes. Most nights he woke up at some random hour after anxiety or nightmares chased him from sleep. Other nights he would wake up and try to recall who was supposed to be on watch.
He craned his neck to glance at the electric clock next to the bed. 9 a.m.—he'd slept through the whole night, and then some.
Beside him, Bilbo shifted in his sleep, muttering something under his breath. After a few minutes, he sighed and mumbled, "What time is it?"
"Ten past nine."
"Bit of a late start for you."
Thorin smiled and reached up to clasp his fingers over Bilbo's. "I thought I'd sleep in today."
"Really?" Though he couldn't see, he could feel Bilbo raise his head. "Who are you, and what have you done with Thorin?"
He laughed softly at that. "I just figured the later I sleep in, the more time I get in bed with you."
"Was that your reasoning?" Bilbo's fingers lifted, tracing along his jaw, across his lower lip. "And what are you planning on doing while you have me here?"
Thorin wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. "Getting some more sleep, obviously."
Bilbo laughed and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. They lay there for a while, enjoying each other's warmth. A drowsy haze fell over Thorin, and he settled into it.
"I'm going to start writing my book today," Bilbo said. "About everything that happened."
"Hmm."
"Help me think of a title?"
Thorin pondered for a moment, eyes closed. "The End of the World."
Bilbo snickered. "A good title."
"Uh…Attack of the Walkers."
"A good title."
"Well, what's your great idea?"
"I don't have one yet." Bilbo tapped his chest. "That's why I was picking your brain, genius."
"The Great Journey."
"You're unbelievable." Bilbo laughed as Thorin rolled him over and pinned him to the bed, planting kisses on his neck just light enough to tickle. "Alright, alright! I'll pick my own title."
"I think that's for the best," Thorin said, and smiled as Bilbo took his face in both hands and pulled him in.
They kissed slowly, lazily, drawing pleasure from the simple slide of lips even as drowsiness settled once again over the dark room. Thorin pressed his face against Bilbo's neck, holding him close. His heart felt full in a way he never could have imagined. Bilbo wrapped an arm around him, fingers gently stroking through his hair.
"We should probably get up soon," Thorin murmured.
Bilbo smiled against his skin. "Let's stay here for a while longer."
Little white flowers wreathed the clearing. They hadn't been there the last time Fíli had visited, but the air was warm now, the first breath of spring ghosting over the mountainside.
Small clusters of them crowned the two headstones set in the earth. Bofur and Bombur had worked for weeks to properly carve markers for Víli and Balin—in the small space they'd managed to fit names and approximated dates.
It still cracked something open inside of him, coming here. Thinking of his father brought the same hollow ache to his chest, but it no longer overwhelmed him. Somehow, over the past few months, he'd started to make room for the pain.
It had been strange, living inside a mountain for so long. Living without windows gave the whole place a strange, timeless quality, but so much had changed since they'd arrived. They'd spent their time growing, building, living, and for once it hadn't seemed like they were only pretending. Fíli didn't think there was anything more real than seeing Thorin smile often, watching Gimli run through the halls with endless energy, watching bad movies with Sigrid and Bain and laughing at the cheesy acting.
Once the weather got better, he wanted to visit Beorn. So far none of them had been far from the front door of the mountain—they had everything they needed inside. But Fíli still wanted to make that journey, even if it was risky. He'd spent late nights talking with Kíli about it, how they still had some kind of obligation to try for more.
The rustle of brush made him look up. In an instant, Fíli was on his feet, one hand on his gun. He crept behind a tree and listened.
Technically, no one was supposed to leave the mountain alone, just in case something were to happen. This was the only exception Fíli made for himself, when he needed some time alone with his thoughts, and the small graveyard was close enough to the door that he'd easily be able to make it back inside. At any rate, Ori was standing watch until he returned, and was still in earshot if the need arose.
Fíli leaned out from behind the tree and scanned the woods. It was possible it was just a wild animal making noises, and he was getting himself worked up for nothing. They hadn't seen much wildlife on the mountain, partially because a good section of the trees were still scarred by fire. It would probably be a while before new growth replaced the charred remains.
He spotted a distinctly human movement farther down the slope. There were two, a man and a woman, clearly moving together—which meant they weren't walkers. He watched them, his pulse thundering in his ears. They seemed to be struggling up the incline, which meant he would have time to make it to the door and tell the others.
Then he caught sight of the woman's belly—swollen with a late pregnancy, supported by one grimy hand. He immediately thought of Brana, how they'd fought to keep her fed on the road, the way her blood had soaked into her shirt after they'd escaped from the warehouse.
Keeping his gun raised, he followed a narrow trail down the mountainside. Once he was close enough to the couple, and in a good position to find cover if he needed it, he called out to them.
"Stop!" They both turned to him, flinching like cornered animals. He pointed his gun at them, trying to quell the tremor in his arms. "Put your hands up. Where I can see them."
They both obeyed, though the man looked as if he wanted to reach out and support his companion. They were both filthy, skin shadowed with grime and clothing mottled with stains that were too old to be identifiable.
"Are there any more with you?" he asked.
"No," the man said, sounding breathless. "Just us. Please, she needs help." He indicated the woman. Her face was drawn with exhaustion and pain.
Fíli swallowed and tightened his grip on his gun. He didn't know these people. For all he knew, this could be a trap. Thorin had told him stories of people who faked injuries to try and rob passerby.
But he and Kíli had made a pact. They'd promised each other to try for more.
"Just wait here," he said. "If you try to follow me, I…I can't guarantee your safety."
The man nodded and hesitantly reached out to support the woman.
Fíli didn't take his eyes off them until he was a good ways up the slope. He paused every so often to scan his surroundings, but the trees remained silent and still. Once the door was in sight, he broke into a run.
Ori immediately straightened as he ducked inside. "What happened? Is something wrong?"
"No. I mean, kind of. Where's Thorin?"
"In the dining room, I think." Ori glanced at him, then the door. "What's going on?"
"I'll explain later." He rushed down the hallway towards the dining room.
Thorin, Óin, Glóin, and Brana were inside, sitting around empty dishes and the remnants of a card game. But Thorin was on his feet the moment he saw Fíli's face.
"What happened?"
Fíli gestured for Thorin to follow him, and they began walking down the hallway, the other three close behind.
"I found some people outside—a man and a pregnant woman. They asked for my help, and—"
"Wait, you were out there alone?" Thorin frowned.
"Yeah, but nothing happened," Fíli said. Thorin's expression told him he wasn't going to let that one slide, but he kept talking. "I just told them to wait, so I could tell you about it. And I think we should let them in."
"Fíli, we don't know anything about these people, what their intentions are."
"I know. But the woman, she looked sick, and they were both terrified. We have everything they need. A-As long as we're safe about it…" He stopped and met Thorin's eyes. "I want to try and help them. Now that we have this place…that's who we have to be."
Thorin considered him for a long moment, and something in his expression softened. He turned to Óin and nodded once.
Óin split off with Brana to prep the infirmary, while Thorin, Fíli, and Glóin headed for the door. Ori was practically bouncing on his toes by the time they reached it, though he'd taken a moment to lock it.
"Fíli found some other survivors," Thorin said before Ori could ask. "Watch the entrance, alright?"
The two strangers were waiting in the same spot Fíli had left them. Thorin approached them first, with Fíli and Glóin flanking him, on the lookout for any attackers.
Thorin had his gun in hand, though he didn't raise it. "Put your weapons on the ground, now."
Even with his new, more easygoing demeanor, Thorin had slipped instantly back into the commanding presence he'd carried on the road. The man fumbled for the gun tucked into his belt and placed it in the dirt. Wincing slightly, the woman pulled out a knife and did the same. At Thorin's signal, Glóin stepped forward and collected both.
"We'll take you inside. We have a doctor that can look you over." Thorin turned to the woman. "Can you walk?"
"Yeah," the woman rasped, though she reached over to lean on the man.
Thorin led the way back up the slope, with Fíli and Glóin bringing up the rear. Ori let them in, eyes roaming curiously over the newcomers. Once the door was shut, Thorin patted them both down, then gestured for them to continue.
Once they reached the end of the hall, Thorin paused and put a hand on Fíli's shoulder. "We'll take it from here. You should tell the others what happened."
"Okay." Fíli paused and holstered his gun. "And thanks for listening to me, with this."
Thorin squeezed his shoulder and nodded. "I'm proud of you. And Víli would be, too." He turned and began leading the newcomers to the infirmary.
Fíli watched them go with a smile, then went to find the rest of his family.
And with that, our story comes to an end. This fic took me about a year, and it's the longest thing I've ever written. 2019 was really hard for me, and it was a really welcome escape to come inhabit this world and tell this story, even if it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows.
Thank you to themuse123 for being such an MVP with the reviews, I love to hear your thoughts and it's lovely to have a zombie apocalypse fic buddy on this site :) Thank you to la Dictateuse for the lovely reviews and for the fanart, that's one of the greatest gifts an author can receive. Thank you to Celebrisilweth for such consistent to reviews. And thank you to everyone else who left a review or just read along silently.
Before I leave off, I do want to say that I don't think this story is done for good. I've been thinking for a while about doing a sequel (and y'all have been asking about it anyway haha), and while I don't have a full plot, I'm thinking it would probably involve another time jump as well as some new characters in addition to the old crew. I have enough right now for a first chapter or so, and I'll be posting that soon if you want to check that out :)
