As had happened the night before, dinner was on the table by the time Thoirn and Bilbo made it home. Only that day, no snide comments greeted them. The others were seated at the table waiting patiently for them to return. Frodo and Gandalf were chatting amicably still while Balin, Dwalin and Bofur were staring blankly at the table in an effort to look anywhere but a Bilbo and Thorin. Balin and Bofur were regretting their decision to force Dwalin to tell them what he had seen. And it was a situation that only became more awkward when Bilbo began speaking with Gandalf.
"Did you two have a pleasant evening?" Gandalf asked with a smile as he watched Thorin and Bilbo sit down side by side on the bench and Bilbo move closer to Thorin before the dwarf wrapped an arm around the hobbit and began to eat with one hand.
"It was hot," Bilbo said with a sigh. "I don't know how he manages to stand it so well. I was sweating just watching him. I even had to go outside to cool off more than once. But he never even needed a break."
"Dwarves are made for forges, Bilbo," Thorin reminded him gently. "Our skin is thicker and better able to resist the heat. If it is too uncomfortable for you, you truly do no need to accompany me to work. I've been there twice now, I am sure that I can find my way home again."
"I enjoy watching you work," Bilbo countered. "It is . . . nice to see you focused so intently on something. When that something isn't your rage at me, that is."
"My dear hobbit, I have not raged at you in more than sixty years," Thorin replied. "And, if I remember correctly, you tended to enjoy what came after the rages."
"I did," Bilbo agreed with a smirk. "Most of the time anyway."
"Why would you . . . oh!" Frodo said blushing as he realized why Bilbo would enjoy the aftermath of Thorin's rage. It wasn't just Frodo who was blushing at the thought of what Bilbo had just said. A slight flush had crept up all the dwarves' necks as they wondered if Thorin enjoyed the consequences of enraging the hobbit as well. Even though none of the truly wanted to know they couldn't help but wonder if Bilbo took his revenge from Thoirn for his grievances or if they simply talked those out.
"So, Thorin," Balin said trying to change the subject back to forging rather than the turn that it had taken, "how are you liking working as a blacksmith once more." Balin was rewarded with a soft smile that made his heart soar. He had never seen such a peaceful expression on Thorin's face since they were children.
"It pleases me," Thorin replied. "While my heart will always wish that I was able to work with more precious metals than iron, I cannot deny that I am enjoying it. And the hobbit smith, Tom, he's a kind, honest person. That is one more complication that we will have to address. I know that we talked of opening a forge here, but if we do it will put him out of business." Thorin paused a moment looking at each of them before he continued.
"This is an unacceptable outcome," Thorin continued. "He has shown me a great kindness by opening his forge to me. He has already allowed me to earn the reward I was promised." The others exchanged looks at that. It had only been two days. Surely Thorin hadn't done enough work in two days to pay for the materials for a sword. "I will not repay his kindness by ruining him."
"What else can we do in the Shire?" Balin asked quietly. "Bofur can make toys but …"
"The way I see it we have a couple of options," Thorin replied. "Most of you—no, all of the company that will be coming with you still have to be wealthy. There is no way that any of you have gone through your fourteenth even in sixty years. The first option is that you could all move here and not work but instead spend your days in leisure." There was a bit of an outcry at that. Dwarves were above all else craftsmen and the idea that they would spend the rest of their lives idle was ludicrous. Thorin smiled into his beard as he took in their angered protests. He had known that they would react poorly to that statement and that it would make his next suggestion all the easier to accept.
"There is another way," Thorin said in a slightly raised voice, his hand in the air to signal that he desired quiet. They fell silent at the gesture through years of practice at following him, but their glares did not lessen. "We could merge the forges. He could work with us and bring all of his clients with him. Our fame as skilled smiths would draw even more from the surrounding lands. Few are willing to travel to Ered Luin or Erebor for dwarven craftsmanship but would be willing to travel to the Shire. We can even work on different things. With enough of us there, we could all take time to work on what we truly wish rather than just iron."
"You want us to merge forges with a hobbit?" Dwalin breathed. Thorin had to be mad! There was no way that any self-respecting dwarf smith would work side-by-side with a hobbit.
"And just what is wrong with hobbits, Dwalin?" Bilbo demanded glaring at the dwarf from across the table, the now-familiar spark that Thorin had come to both hate and fear in his hazel eyes. "You seemed rather keen to move in amongst us before. What is wrong with working with one?"
"Bilbo," Thorin whispered gently trying to calm Bilbo before this could escalate into an argument. He stood a chance if Dwalin saw the warning signs and would keep his mouth closed. "Dwalin didn't mean anything offensive by it. He was only—"
"What's wrong with working with one is that a hobbit will only slow us down," Dwalin snapped glaring back at Bilbo in return. "Nothing against your race, Bilbo, but you neither have the strength nor the endurance of the dwarves. What you said about the forge proves it. You had to leave. Every second spent outside cooling off is a second that could have been spent at work. Hobbits have no place in dwarven forges." If Thorin could have reached Dwalin without releasing Bilbo he would have smacked him upside the head for that. There was no way that with the madness stirring Bilbo would let such a statement go unanswered. He sighed as he heard Bilbo's enraged intake of air.
"As if dwarves are so wonderful!" Bilbo snapped rising angrily to his feet and nearly upending the bench in the process. "If you remember, despite my lack of strength and endurance I still managed to save your worthless hide more than once. If it wasn't for me, a hobbit, you would be dead and not able to say such foolish things! Why—"
"Bilbo, please," Thorin said taking his hand and trying to pull him back into his seat. "Please, Dwalin meant no disrespect to hobbits. Just sit. He is sorry that he upset you, aren't you Dwalin?"
"I am?" Dwalin asked in confusion just as Bilbo snorted and said, "He's not. He meant every word that he said."
"No," Thorin promised standing to pull the irate hobbit against him when it was clear that Bilbo would not sit. The stiffness in the way that Bilbo held himself away from Thorin hurt him but he did not let go. Instead he held Bilbo more tightly against him and bent to whisper in his ear.
"He did not mean it," Thorin whispered fervently as he stroked Bilbo's hair. "Dwalin does not think that hobbits are worthless. He doesn't think that you are worthless and you are a hobbit. And he cares for Frodo, does he not. Frodo is a hobbit. Calm yourself, âzyungâl. It was not meant as it came across. He is only concerned about our ancient secrets, not the worth of hobbits. Just breathe." He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt Bilbo begin to relax into his touch. The madness was passing. This time.
"That's it," Thorin praised. "Just like that. Relax." Suddenly with a shudder Bilbo relaxed fully against him before pulling back and looking at him through sad hazel eyes.
"Again?" Bilbo asked sadly. Thorin said nothing but his eyes said it for him. Bilbo had lost himself again. "I . . . I think that I will . . . I'm going to have a bath," Bilbo said in a shaky voice before he turned and walked out of the room leaving his dinner on the table untouched.
Once he was gone, the others turned to Thorin.
"What was that about?" Bofur demanded. "Why did he . . . what Dwalin said wasn't that bad. Why did it upset him so much?" Thorin sighed and sat back down before resting his head in his hands. He knew that he was going to have to tell them eventually. Bilbo would not stop his descent into madness just because Thorin wished it and perhaps if they knew they could help to avoid these trips before they happened. They needed to know, he just wasn't sure how to tell them.
"How long has it been since you all have seen Bilbo?" he asked in return as he looked from one concerned face to another. He had wondered just how long this had been going on and this was his chance to discover it.
"I don't—" Balin begain.
"Please, just answer the question," Thoirn said with a sigh. "It is important."
"How long has it been, lads?" Balin asked in confusion. "Seven, eight years. Why?"
"Gandalf?" Thorin asked looking at the wizard hopefully. Perhaps he could narrow the window of time further. "How long as it been since you have visited?"
"A year, more or less," Gandalf replied. "I come to see him as often as I can and every year near his birthday. Why do you ask?"
"Have any of you noticed anything strange about him in any of your previous visits?" Thorin asked rather than answer their questions. "Any random changes in mood. Anger that seems to come from nowhere."
"You mean like what happened the other day in the market and again in the entry?" Dwalin asked. Thorin nodded sadly. "No," Dwalin said. "He's never done anything like that before. If he had I probably would not have come back to visit him again." Thorin nodded.
"What happened the other day at the market?" Gandalf asked, concern in his voice at the fact that Bilbo had done something that would prevent Dwalin from returning to visit him again. The two of them had grown close over the years, despite their initial opinions of one another.
"Bilbo . . . Bilbo lost his temper over a comment Dwalin made about his private life with me," Thorin replied. "It wasn't even a graphic comment. And then once we returned home, he . . ." Thorin trailed off not wanting to bring up what had happened next. He was still thankful that Dwalin had decided to forgive Bilbo for hitting him.
"Bilbo what?" Gandalf pressed, his brows coming together as he listened to the erratic behavior that Bilbo had been demonstrating lately. It troubled him.
"He punched me," Dwalin said his own tone edging towards anger. "All I said was that if he under too much stress that he and Thorin should just take the edge off and he punched me in the nose. It was rather impressive," he continued, laughter in his tone now. "He even managed to draw blood."
"Bilbo punched you in the nose and drew blood?" Gandalf asked incredulously. "The same Bilbo who did everything in his power to prevent bloodshed. I don't believe it."
"He did," Bofur confirmed. "Took both me and Balin to keep him from doing more. I didn't know that Bilbo was that strong. You may be wrong about hobbit's being weaker than dwarves, Dwalin. He almost overpowered two of us to get to you."
"He nearly overpowered you and Balin?" Gandalf asked growing more concerned the more that he heard. This was quite unlike Bilbo. And it should have been beyond his physical capabilities to overpower one of the dwarves, let alone two. No there was something else at work here. Something sinister.
"But that was the last of it until tonight," Balin said quietly. "He's been normal ever since."
"No," Thorin disagreed sadly. "He hasn't. Yesterday when we were in the market it happened again. He was jealous of the way the other hobbits were speaking with me and . . . and I realized what it was that we have been seeing. Bilbo . . . when he gets like that, it's not him behind his eyes. He's gone and in his place is something cruel and cold. It says thing that Bilbo never would."
"Does it lie?" Gandalf asked suddenly his blue eyes boring into Thorin and pinning the dwarf on the spot. At the mention of the split personalities Gandalf was suddenly and forcefully reminded of the creature Gollum that Bilbo had met in the Misty Mountains and the Ring that he had possessed. The Ring that Bilbo now had. Gandalf had always felt uneasy around that little bit of gold and there were too many coincidences piling up to be overlooked any longer. The Ring needed to be separated from Bilbo.
"I don't believe so," Thorin said, fighting back tears at what Bilbo had said to him while under the sway of the madness. "I believe that it speaks the truth, but it is a dark painful truth. He . . . he had a lapse this morning. We were talking about braids and he . . . he went mad. He got that look in his eyes and . . . he talked about what happened that day." None of them needed to ask which day Thorin was referring to. They all knew that there was only one day Bilbo could bring up that would torture Thorin so.
"What did he say?" Gandalf prompted. It was important for him to know what the other personality had said. If it had spoken the truth . . . Gandalf almost hoped that it had lied. If it was speaking the truth, even a twisted version of it . . . he needed to know.
"Please, Gandalf," Thorin begged. "Don't make me relive that. It was painful enough the first time. I know that Bilbo would never say such things to me, but even if it wasn't his eyes that were looking at me it was his voice that the words were in and his mouth that were forming them. Please don't make me relive that."
"Thorin," Gandalf said gently, placing a hand on the back of the upset dwarf's. Even if he was pleased to see that Thorin was capable of such openness it hurt him to see such pain and regret in another being. "Thorin, I may be able to help." The hope in Thorin's blue eyes broke Gandalf's heart and he regretted ever thinking that the dwarf was back for an ill purpose.
"However for me to be able to do anything I must know if the other personality lies," Gandalf said levelly. "Now, what did he say to you?"
"He said . . . he told me that he was only alive because of you," Thorin said unable to meet the wizard's eyes due to his embarrassment over the situation. "He said that I would never have shown him mercy even had he have begged and that if it wasn't for you the last sound I would have heard from him would have been his screams of terror and agony as I threw him to his death." The others winced at the pain in Thorin voice as he repeated Bilbo's accusations. Those were harsh words. While they were true, Bilbo would never have said them. Not to Thorin.
"He also said that he would have died knowing that I had killed him," Thorin whispered, his words choked with the tears he refused to shed. "And then . . . then he said that . . . that I nearly killed him anyway. Apparently the bruises from where I had grabbed him were deep enough that his arms were nearly useless . . . he said . . . he said that the bruises lasted nearly a month and that if . . . if it hadn't been for his magic Ring he would have died in the battle . . . because of me." Gandalf felt his eyes widen in surprise. Not only had Bilbo not lied, he had mentioned the Ring as his salvation. It did not bode well. Gandalf had always intended to separate Bilbo from the Ring after this birthday but now he knew that it was more important than ever that it happen. Bilbo would have to be parted from the Ring. For the first time he realized just how difficult a task this might be.
"Thorin," Balin said reaching across the table to grab the other dwarf's hand, "he didn't mean it. Bilbo would never—"
"No, Bilbo would never," Thorin agreed. "But that doesn't mean that what he said wasn't true. Tell me, Gandalf, you traveled with him on his trip home, he told me. How long did the bruises last?"
"Throin," Gandalf said gently. "Do not torture yourself with this. Much like with what passed between you and Bilbo this morning, you were not yourself. You would never touch Bilbo in such a way. You do not need to ask me that. I know what I needed to know. We can allow this matter to drop."
"Answer me," Thorin ordered. "How long did the bruises I left on his skin last? Were they truly there for a month?"
"They were," Gandalf replied sadly. "I saw them the evening after you banished him and they were black-purple. Over the next few weeks they faded. Even once they were mostly gone you could still see the discoloration for a little over a month if you knew where to look. But, Thorin, just like with Bilbo now, you did not do that to him. He knows it. Elsewise you would not now be sitting here at his table." Throin couldn't help but smile at Gandalf's words. Once, the wizard's meddling and advice would have angered him but now . . . now he took comfort in the fact that Gandalf, at least, understood.
"What I told you," Thorin asked hopefully, "did it help? Can you help me to help him stave off this madness? I can't lose him, Gandalf. Not again."
"I do not know that I can fix this," Gandalf relied honestly. "But I do believe that I know the cause of it. It may take both of us to accomplish it, and we will have to be careful about it, but I do believe that I can at the very least keep this from growing any worse. I cannot promise that the brief lapses will stop entirely, but I do believe that what I have planned will keep us from losing him to it entirely."
"That is more than I had hoped for," Throin replied honestly. "What do I need to do?" While Gandalf and Thorin planned, the others went into the sitting room to give them some space. They were all unnerved by what they had just learned but none more so than Dwalin.
He was furious with himself. Usually he was glad to be the one that had accomplished things most frequently—as with his record in making poor Frodo faint—but this? It was a record that he did not want. His friend was suffering from madness and something about him seemed to provoke it. This was the third time that he had done it. And he hadn't even noticed that the Bilbo that was raging at him was not the Bilbo that he had known for sixty years. He hadn't recognized madness in a friend that he had had for sixty years. He hated himself for not realizing it sooner.
"None of us knew, Brother," Balin said quietly from beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "None of us realized what it meant. You can't blame yourself for this."
"Even I didn't know," Frodo offered sadly. "I've lived with him for twelve years and I didn't realize that it was anything other than stress. There has been quite a lot of it lately, between the party and you lot and Thorin. It made sense to me that Bilbo's temper would be a little short."
"Thorin knew," Bofur said suddenly, his face lacking any trace of his usual smile. "He hasn't seen Bilbo in sixty years and he knew."
"Thorin knows Bilbo better than any of us ever could hope to," Balin argued. "I'd wager that he has seen sides of him that no one else ever has or ever will." Dwalin couldn't help the shudder that ran through him at the words.
"I have no desire to see some of the sides of Bilbo that Thorin has seen," Dwalin managed to say in a choked voice.
"Nor do I," Frodo agreed. "I may love my uncle, but I do not love him that way." They all agreed with Frodo and Dwalin. None of them had any desire to see their dear friend in that position. But all of them would gladly endure the mental scarring if it meant that it would spare Bilbo from what he was currently going through.
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For the first time since Thorin had returned, Bilbo was alone. There had been times in the past where he would have given or done almost anything for just an hour of solitude but now . . . he didn't want it. He wanted to be able to sit out there and talk and laugh with his old friends without worrying that he would suddenly snap without reason and assault one of them. Ever since Thorin had figured out what was going on he had been making active attempts to keep it from happening but it wasn't fair of Bilbo to force him to do it. Thorin should not have to stay by his side and watch him for any sign of madness. It was cruel.
Bilbo knew for a fact just how difficult it was to watch someone you love turn into someone who you didn't know: who you were afraid of. And it had to be doubly difficult for Thorin, who had already lost his grandfather to the madness, to have to watch as Bilbo lost himself. At least when Thorin had gone mad it had been a sudden thing. One day he was Thorin and the next . . . he wasn't. With this . . . Bilbo hated himself for what he was putting Thorin through. It was cruel.
Even at his angriest and most hurt Bilbo would never have wished this on another. This was nothing short of torture for both of them. Bilbo, since he knew that he was hurting the one that he loved most in the world and because he feared what he was becoming. He had seen it. He knew what someone in the throes of madness was capable of. What he had already done. Even if Thorin didn't hold his actions that morning against him, Bilbo did. He had held a sword to his lover's throat. He had almost killed him. And Thorin . . . for the first time Bilbo began to wonder if the Valar were as good as he had been led to believe. He couldn't help but wonder if they had brought Thorin to this point in time just to punish him. If they had . . . he hated that he was the instrument of their torture.
Bilbo wasn't sure how long he had sat alone in the bath with his dark thoughts but eventually he was startled by a pair of arms wrapping around him from behind and a gentle kiss to the side of his neck.
"I thought that you once told me that you would never take a cold bath again once the quest was done," Thorin whispered.
"I haven't," Bilbo replied before clearing his throat at the hoarse sound of his own voice. "This was a hot bath."
"Was," Thorin agreed. "The water's gone cold, Bilbo. Come on, crawl out and I'll run us a fresh one."
"It's fine," Bilbo replied morosely. "I don't deserve a warm bath. Maybe if we're lucky I'll catch another cold and put us both out of our misery."
"Bilbo," Thorin sighed frustrated that Bilbo was feeling this upset over something that he had no control over and moving to try to look at Bilbo's face, but the hobbit resolutely kept turning away from him.
"No," Bilbo whispered brokenly. "We'd both be better off if I were dead. I can't stand hurting you like this. I . . . I can't control it, Thorin. And it's getting worse. What will happen if—"
"Stop," Thorin commanded gently as he grasped Bilbo's chin and forced the hobbit to look at him. "Neither of us would be better off with you dead so you just put that thought out of your head, Bilbo Baggins. You are not allowed to think like that."
"But what I'm putting you through . . . it's cruel. I should just . . ." Bilbo sobbed trying to pull away from Thorin, but the dwarf was not allowing it.
"No," Thorin argued. "What would be cruel is for you to take your own life and force me to live out the remainder of my life alone. Not that it wouldn't be fair since it is what I did to you, in essence, but that would be cruel. Not this. This is not your fault, Bilbo. I do not hold this against you."
"But, you shouldn't have to—"
"How about you let me decide what I have to do when it comes to you, alright?" Thorin countered. "I think that I am old enough to make my own decisions about what I wish to do with my lover, am I not?"
"You are, but—"
"Then it's decided. Now get out of the tub and let me change the water," Thorin said in a no-nonsense voice. "You may not care about cold bathwater but I do. I have taken far too many cold baths in my life and have no intention of taking another. Not when hot water is only a pipe away."
"Fine," Bilbo sighed. "But if you ever do get tired of dealing with me, I will understand if you leave. I wouldn't blame you." He stood to step out of the tub only realizing for the first time just how cold his water had actually grown. Even the warm air of the bathroom felt cold against his chilled skin.
"Foolish hobbit," Thorin said as he pulled the still sopping Bilbo against him not missing the slight shivers that were running through the hobbit. "Haven't you realized yet that I will not be parted from you again? You would have to kill me to get rid of me and I have already promised you that I will not allow that. You're just going to have to tolerate me for the rest of your life."
"I think I can live with that," Bilbo said with a smile as he rested his head against Thorin's chest, the steady beat beneath his cheek did more to soothe his fragile feelings than hundreds of words could have. It was the proof of what Thorin promised, that pulse. It was as strong and stable as the dwarf himself and Bilbo wasn't sure how he had lived without it for so long. For the first time in a long time he was not preoccupied about what the future contained. He knew that there would be challenges, his own descent into madness among them, but he also knew that Thorin would be there with him through them all. It truly was something that he could live with.
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There we are all :) A new chapter. Sorry about the delay, as some of you may know my computer died and I only got a new one on Monday (yes, I know that it has been three whole days and I could have updated :( I'm sorry) and now things should get back on track :) I hope you enjoyed this update, late as it was :). At least I made it a long one to make up for it :)
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: I'm glad that I can help to provide a reprive from the horrors of school :) And thank you so much for lumping this one in with all the wonderful stories that are up here. I hope that you continue to enjoy it :)
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