Hi again,
Hope you like the next chapter.
. .
When Thorin awoke the next morning, rain still poured outside, the wind howling and branches dancing in its fury. Judging by the subdued light and the quietness in the house, it was early. The perfect opportunity to slip out unnoticed and avoid Master Baggins for a few more hours.
Quickly dressing and securing his long hair in a ponytail, Thorin stealthily left his room, descended the stairs, and headed to the kitchen. Grabbing a quick bite, he prepared lunch to take along, ensuring he wouldn't have to return home midday and prolong his avoidance of Master Baggins.
Donning his raincoat and boots, Thorin stealthily left the house, maintaining a steady pace toward his workshop. Despite the woodshed being on the estate's border, he arrived drenched but focused on his craft.
In the workshop, he shed his raincoat and boots, donning work shoes. Carving wood became a therapeutic exercise, allowing him to mold it into shapes that pleased him. The morning passed swiftly, with Thorin working almost automatically, pausing only to cut more wood, eat lunch, and continue until he felt the weariness set in.
Cleaning up the workshop, Thorin donned his raincoat and boots again, heading back to the mansion. Anticipating Dis and Master Baggins to be occupied, he removed his wet gear upon entering and headed to the living room. Picking up a book, he settled onto the couch, intending to read until he noticed he wasn't alone.
On the far side of the room, Master Baggins sat in an armchair, a pencil and sketchbook in hand, eyeing him with amusement. Thorin's attempt to avoid him had failed.
"Reading, aren't we?" Bilbo broke the silence. "Not a very masculine thing to do."
Thorin grinned, hearing his own words thrown back at him. "There's no shame in reading occasionally. As long as there are other things that can pique your interests. Besides, the weather is horrible; I need to occupy myself with something. Where is Dis?"
"To the market with your mother," Bilbo replied. "So, what is it that interests you, Thorin?"
The market, a detail Thorin had forgotten.
"I like to make creations out of wood," Thorin answered. "I sell them when finished, and sometimes people ask me to make something. I also play the piano, fish now and then, and practice sword fighting."
"Impressive," Bilbo said dryly.
A silence settled between them, making Thorin uneasy. "Master Baggins, about the other day," he began, acknowledging the conversation couldn't be avoided forever. "I owe you..."
"No, no," Bilbo interrupted. "You were right. I should have listened to you. You could have just left me there; you were under no obligation to come find me, but you did. And I'm grateful for that. But in the end, I acted incredibly stupid."
Thorin was surprised by Bilbo's admission. "I shouldn't have scolded you like that," Thorin replied. "I was out of line. I'm sorry."
"I deserved it," Bilbo concluded. "You have nothing to apologize for."
"You see, that's the thing. You didn't deserve it," Thorin said, his eyes on the ground. "You went to retrieve something that had meaning to you. If you hadn't gone back, it most likely would have been destroyed. In all honesty, I would have done the same thing."
Bilbo stayed silent, and when Thorin looked up, he noticed Bilbo was eyeing him curiously. "Who was it?"
"Excuse me."
"Who did you lose?" Bilbo asked, curiosity lingering in his gaze. "You don't relate to someone like that if you haven't felt that kind of grief. So, who was it?"
"My brother, Frerin," Thorin softly replied. "He died a few years ago. It was an accident."
"Ah," Bilbo said, understanding showing on his face. "That explains why no one ever talks about him. I'm sorry for your loss."
Thorin nodded. "We don't talk about him often."
"I get a feeling you don't like it very much," Bilbo guessed.
"I hate it," Thorin admitted. "It's not because he is dead that he never existed. Yet almost everyone around here refuses to speak about him."
"Well, if it may be a bit of condolence, if you ever want to talk about him, feel welcome to talk to me," Bilbo answered, looking at him with compassion in his eyes.
"Thank you," Thorin said gruffly.
"I could use a cup of tea," Bilbo muttered, placing his sketchbook on the table as he got up. "Do you want anything?"
"A cup of tea would be nice," Thorin replied, giving Bilbo a small smile.
"Coming right up," Bilbo said before leaving the living room.
Thorin reopened his book, planning to start reading but got distracted by the sketchbook left behind on the table. He knew he shouldn't look into it, but curiosity prevailed. He got up, took the sketchbook, and sat back down on the sofa.
The first drawing he saw depicted a picturesque house surrounded by a garden full of flowers. Flipping the page, he found a drawing of a village, all the houses in the same style as the one in the first drawing. Thorin browsed through the sketchbook, impressed by Bilbo's skill.
"What are you doing?"
Thorin looked up to find Bilbo standing in the living room, a cup of tea in each hand. He had been caught.
"I... I didn't mean... ugh..." Thorin stuttered. "These are amazing."
"Snooping through my drawings, aren't you?" Bilbo exclaimed, placing the two cups of tea on the table before sitting down next to him. "They are just doodles, though. Nothing special about them."
Thorin opened the book again, pointing at the first drawing. "This is not just a doodle, Master Baggins. This shows excellent skill."
"Thank you," Bilbo replied. "But would you please just call me Bilbo?"
Thorin sighed. "Alright then, Bilbo. Is this your home?"
"It is indeed. On the next page, you'll find Bag End," Bilbo replied, smiling. "I won't bore you with my stories. But it's a beautiful place really."
"No, please tell me," Thorin interjected. "I would like to hear the stories that lie behind those drawings."
Bilbo didn't need to be told twice. He went back to the first drawing, telling him about his home and moving on to the second to describe the village he came from. A few pages further, there was a drawing of a woman with the same hair color as Bilbo.
"Who's that?" Thorin asked.
"My mother; this is what she looked like before she got sick," Bilbo answered, tracing the outlines of the drawing with his finger.
"Tell me about her," Thorin encouraged him.
"She was a warm person, always made sure I was taken well care of, although I know the early years of my childhood were hard on her," Bilbo told. "You see, my father passed away when I was little. I don't remember much of him. My mother struggled to provide for us on her own. It was only when I grew older that I noticed her troubles. So, I started to work, doing chores here and there, and from that, my own business grew. She didn't get to enjoy it much, though. She got sick, and it went downhill pretty fast from there. She was gone within weeks."
"She sounds like an extraordinary person," Thorin tried to comfort Bilbo.
"She was," Bilbo replied. "Talking about her always makes me a bit sad, so shall we move on from the subject?"
Thorin nodded in agreement.
They sat together for a few hours, Bilbo doing most of the talking while Thorin listened, starting to feel more at ease with him as time passed by. Maybe Bilbo wasn't so bad after all. As they proceeded to the last drawing, Thorin saw it was a sketch of his sister. The drawing wasn't finished, but the resemblance was remarkable.
"It's a present for Dis," Bilbo confided. "Please don't tell her."
"She will love it. It's beautiful," Thorin replied, offering Bilbo a small smile. "Don't worry. My lips are sealed."
Bilbo closed the sketchbook, placing it next to him on the sofa.
"You know, Thorin. I was wrong about you," he said. "I thought you were a first-class asshole. But it seems you are not that bad after all."
Thorin chuckled. "I know, I haven't given you a fair chance to start with. You're not that bad yourself."
"So, now I'm approved by the mighty Thorin Durin… when are you going to show me your work?" Bilbo asked, trying to keep a straight face.
Thorin gave him a playful push. "If you are talking about my wood crafting, whenever you find time."
"Behold, a miracle has happened," Thorin heard behind him. "The two of you finally are on speaking terms… without yelling involved, that is."
Upon hearing Dis her voice, Bilbo quickly shoved the sketchbook toward Thorin and mouthed, "Hide it; she can't see."
Thorin laughed, meanwhile hiding the sketchbook behind his shirt. "How was the market, Dis?"
"Wet, I can tell you that," Dis replied. "Come on, Bilbo. I have something for you to see."
Bilbo got up from the sofa, giving Thorin a secretive look before he walked toward Dis.
Once both left the room, Thorin retrieved the sketchbook from under his shirt again. He would place it in Bilbo's room later, ensuring he got it back. But first, he was going to look at the drawings again, as they made his afternoon one of the best he had in a while.