Chapter Text
When Thorin woke it was on a cot in one of Dain's tents. Voices reached his ears and he strained his eyes to see Thranduil muttering with Dwalin, Balin, and Bofur in the corner. He took a deep breath and had to cough it out, pain ripping through his chest. Bofur and Dwalin were at his side at once. An uproar deafened him to all sounds in the room and he barely heard the "please!" from Bofur before something heavy landed on his chest and Thorin knew no more.
When he awoke next it was to Thranduil alone in his tent, wrapping his wound in strong smelling leaves. Thorin's mouth was dry and he couldn't pull words out of his throat. The Elvenking, sensing that his charge was awake, leveled Thorin with a stare. "I'm not doing this for you. I am doing this for the selfless hero that you nearly threw off the side of your precious mountain," he said darkly going back to his work. After he seemed satisfied with his work he turned to Thorin and lifted a tin cup with warm poppy milk to his lips. "Drink this, it will help with the pain and let you have dreamless sleep."
o-o
Two days later Thorin snarled again as Thranduil jabbed at his chest wound, sending sock waves of pain up his torso. Thranduil to his credit did move the old bandage carefully, sighing all the while afterwards.
"I do not have to be here, Thorin, son of Thrain," he reminded harshly, "and you had best be grateful that I am here at all or you would be as dead as the stone from which you came."
Thorin said nothing but bit back the hiss of pain at having cool slave laid over his injury. He was about to snap back at the Mirkwood king until Bofur ran into the tent with a wide smile gracing his features.
"We found him!"
The next few moments were a rush of pain, worry, and adrenaline. Dwalin had followed in after the miner and had to restrain his friend and newly found king against the bed from getting up. Thranduil yelled darkly at Thorin to hold still.
Thorin would do no such thing. Not until he saw that the Halfling was okay. Not until he knew that his last words to the Hobbit were of the kindness and the friendship that he deserved. He would see the Halfling want for nothing, that he be lain with jewels and the title of Hero.
As he saw Gandalf bring Bilbo in unconscious, only three things went through Thorin's mind
He has to be okay.
He has to be.
It's all my fault.
The Wizard brought Bilbo carried in his arms. Despite the sling on one arm he held the Hobbit with ease.
"Bilbo," Thorin called out, the pain in his chest forgotten in his worry. There was little blood on Bilbo, the splotches stained into the Hobbit's clothes from Orc blood. That much Thorin could tell. His only hope was that Bilbo was merely unconscious from fainting. But a larger part of his mind told him this was a lie. Bilbo's wounds were more than they seemed and if he died he would have no one to blame but himself.
"Is he-?" Thorin began but couldn't finish the sentence as Thranduil shoved the Dwarf King down from under Dwalin's straining arms and said harshly, "you will stay down if you wish to live," before lifting up to his full height and walking over to Gandalf, offering the second cot in the tent for Bilbo.
"It's just a head wound," Gandalf said to Thranduil. Thorin sighed in relief from his cot, looking at the other two's backs.
"It's never just a head wound," Thorin heard Thranduil whisper as the Elvenking leaned down onto his knees to look at Bilbo.
Thorin's breath stilled as Thranduil ran his fingers over Bilbo's head with surprising gentleness.
"He will live, though I do not know what after effects that this will leave behind," Thranduil said, gently resting his hand on the Hobbit's chest. Thorin snapped his mouth close from biting words at the Elf.
"Thank goodness," Gandalf muttered.
"Gandalf, a moment of your time, I wish to talk to you where we will not be overheard," Thranduil said, looking pointedly at Thorin.
Thorin saw the bait for what it was and just rolled his eyes before returning his gaze to Bilbo. As soon as the two left the tent Thorin did his best to roll over. The pain stopped him before he could get fully on his side, so at the moment his head had to twist painfully to the side. "Bilbo," he muttered.
The Hobbit's chest rose and fell with his breaths. They were calm but still he did not stir.
Thorin wanted to shout, wanted to run to the Hobbit's side. He had to tell Bilbo he was sorry, for everything.
"They found him." Bofur muttered relived as he collapsed onto a stool. The miner looked a mix of elation and guilt to see the Halfling alive. He turned to Thorin and Dwalin who now stood silent next to Thorin's cot.
"The lads were just behind us," he added and as he spoke the tent door opened. Fili stood leaning heavily on a make-shift crutch to keep his left leg bandaged up. Off-white cloth wrapped around his head and left eye, dotted with dark blood stains. Beside him was Kili, legs intact but his arm was bound to his side, as well as a stick that kept his back upright. The shoulder injury had been deadly. If Kili had been older he would not have made it. They both were panting and disheveled.
The two hobbled into the room as fast as they could. They rushed to Bilbo's side, Fili hesitating a bit behind to stop by his uncle.
"Are you doing well?" he asked.
"I am healing and will live, my worry is for Bilbo," Thorin said, looking past his heir to the sleeping Halfling.
"What's wrong with 'im?" Kili asked. He looked ready to fall onto Bilbo and weep.
"A head wound. The Elf said that he will live, but he does not know what else the wound will leave behind," Thorin answered, coughing a bit between words.
"It doesn't look that bad..." Kili said, looking wishfully at Bilbo
"To us, I know not the strength of a Hobbit head," Thorin muttered, "the best we can do is hope that he will be fine."
Dwalin, Bofur, Kili, and Fili stayed around the rest of the day. Thorin was grateful for their presence. Kili and Fili had been put in the same tent as Oin so he could watch them closely. It was lonely and Thorin was glad for the lack of the Elf King. They checked on Bilbo often and talked about the battle. Now that the gold-sickness had completely left his mind, Thorin saw the world clearly, and it haunted him. The way he had treated Bilbo and his company. His lust of the Arkenstone haunting after him at every turn.
When Bofur and his sister-sons had left, Thorin fell back asleep. It was an unconscious decision his body made due to the stress of the day. When he awoke again, Dwalin was gone and it was Thranduil speaking softly to Bilbo. At first Thorin thought only that he was whispering, but it turned out that the king was merely speaking to him in Sindarin.
"He won't understand you," Thorin stated. His lips were chapped and his throat felt as though it was on fire. He took a deep breath and coughed it all out.
"You doubt him so much. Why?" Thranduil asked, looking at Thorin with a blank expression but continued without an answer. "Gandalf tells me this Hobbit can speak a little Sindarin," he said as he turned back to Bilbo and picked up a wet cloth to dab at the scrap on his temple. "Such an amazing soul he has: to be wasted in love with the likes of Dwarfs."
Thorin bristled but still he refused to take the bait. "It is not wasted," he said as calmly as he could. "We have taken care of him and none of this company or any Dwarf would do him harm."
"But you did," Thranduil stated.
Thorin cringed. He had set himself up for that one. It hurt none the less. "I was...I was not in my own mind," he said looking away.
"No, of course not," said the Elvenking. Thorin heard him sigh before looking back over at Thranduil. He sat on his knees, legs tucked underneath him. He had a look of awe and passion across his face while his eyes were trained on Bilbo. He opened his mouth and began talking in Sindarin.
Thorin now looked at Thranduil and really saw him for the first time since his waking. His clothes were simple: all armor from the battle gone, and in its place plain cotton and silks. There was no crown above his head and his blond hair was pulled back into a pony tail. By all rights he looked like a common Mirkwood Elf. It was only his ability to command and fill a room did Thorin know at all that it was Thranduil and not some lower class Elf.
Thorin cleared his throat, "How is he doing?"
Thranduil stopped but did not turn back to Thorin. "He will live. We just now need to wait for his waking," he said. "You must sleep now too. The rest will heal your wounds faster."
Thorin snorted in his direction but closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep. He opened them briefly to look at Bilbo's face, guilt washed over him again and he had to close his eyes to stop the tears that were threatening to spill.
The next day Thranduil was gone when Thorin opened his eyes. His bandages had been re-wrapped, and had his chest not felt as though a troll had sat on it, he huffed in annoyance. Distracting himeself he looked over at Bilbo. The Hobbit's body was calm and his breathing was normal. Oh how Thorin wanted to walk over there and tell the Halfling how sorry he was. He could hear movement outside his tent but no one seemed to be drawing near. He took a deep breath and turned his head as far as it could go.
"It appears as though I am wrong again. I have been proven wrong by you many times on this quest and still I am shocked at how you can do it time and time again. You have shown nothing but loyalty to me and my kin. You left your life behind to help me and I was too blind to see that for what it was," Thorin had to stop to cough and take deep breaths but continued anyway, "I am sorry Bilbo Baggins, child of the kindly West. If more of us valued food, cheer, and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world."
Thorin's next words were swallowed up by Bilbo moving. It wasn't much but Bilbo lifted his arm from his side and moved it closer to himself. It was a small move but none the less the first sign that Bilbo Baggins would in fact live. Thorin smiled despite himself and with the pain in his chest went back to sleep.
It was dark the next time Thorin opened his eyes, the tent was colder, which meant early morning before the sun rose, and the only light was a candle flickering in the dark.
Thranduil was back sitting on the ground reading a book with his back turned to Thorin.
"You are awake again," The Elvenking said quietly.
Thorin decided not to answer.
"Your companions wish you luck and a quick recovery. They would like to see you, but at the time I doubt that it would help with your health," he finished, closing the book. Thorin huffed, so that was the reason for Thorin's lack of visitors. Even Dain had not come to his side.
"It is about time I check your wounds again."
A movement stopped everything in the tent. Bilbo had rolled onto his side facing Thorin. Thorin smiled and was about to open his mouth to shout in happiness when Thranduil touched his shoulder and shook his head.
"Do not say anything yet, let him get a feel of his surroundings. After your last conversation your voice may trigger a negative reaction," the Elf whispered, looking down at him before turning back to Bilbo.
They both watched as Bilbo moved and slowly opened his eyes, and Thorin swore he never saw anything better. It felt like it did when Kili and Fili had first walked into his tent: a sword piercing through his heart with relief.
Bilbo blinked and rubbed at his eyes. The hand that was on his shoulder tightened a bit and Thorin glanced up to Thranduil. The Elvenking's face was hard and his eyes closed for a bit. Thorin didn't know what had Thranduil so upset.
"Bilbo, can you hear me?" Thranduil asked.
Bilbo nodded his head and looked around him. "Yes, but it is too dark to see. What time of night is it? I can feel the deep cold of early morn'."
Thorin's eyes widened. He gasped and his breath caught in his throat. The candle was brightly lit and was big enough to fill the whole room with a very soft glow.
"What happened? What has become of the battle?" Bilbo asked, now sitting up. Thranduil was there in an instant.
"It is still night little one, you are in a tent. The battle is over, we have been victorious," Thranduil said sitting down and placing a hand on the Hobbit's thigh.
"That is all well and good King Thranduil, but might we light a candle? I can't even see you in this darkness."
Thorin felt like weeping where he lay. He turned away from Bilbo.
"Mister Baggins, there is a lit candle just behind me," Thranduil said calmly. He said a few things in Sindarin and Bilbo gasped.
Thorin looked back to see the Hobbit waving his hand in front of his face, even from his cot he could see Bilbo was shaking, whether to cry or out of anger, Thorin did not know .
"I am....I am blind?" Bilbo said disbelieving and Thorin’s heart collapsed to hear him say it. He wanted Bilbo to shout and to stomp his feet in anger the way he did when Kili and Fili were up to their pranks. He wanted to see Bilbo shake with invisible anger and throw his arms around wildly. He did not want this suddenly calm Bilbo. He wanted to be yelled at. That everything was his fault. He wanted Bilbo to come over and punch him in the face.
"It seems that way yes. You were struck on the forehead and fell only rocks. I do not know if this is a long term effect or not," the Elf finished, placing his hand on Bilbo's cheek. "A lot was lost in the battle. If the gods are kind, your sight will return."
"What of my company of Dwarfs?" Bilbo asked. "Are they all well? I wish to know who is still alive," Bilbo asked suddenly, reaching out and grabbing Thranduil's forearm.
The Elf sighed but answered, "Your companions are fine. A little bruised and battered but as well as one can be after a battle that fierce."
"What of Thorin?" Bilbo asked gently and Thorin took in a deep breath.
"Master Oakenshield is healing. He is here in this tent if you wish to speak with him."
Thorin watched Bilbo whip his head around searching. "Thorin?" he asked.
"I am here Bilbo Baggins," Thorin replied gently.
Bilbo smiled and Thorin's face fell. He closed his eyes briefly. He had not deserved that smile. After what he had done to Bilbo he should be shunned on the spot. Any Dwarf would have done that. Not smile at the Dwarf who nearly threw him off a mountain.
Bilbo, using Thranduil as a guide, got off the cot and began moving to where he heard Thorin's voice. He thanked Thranduil and dropped to his knees at Thorin's side, and groped around for the Dwarf's hand. Thorin gave it willingly and squeezed lightly when Bilbo pulled it in between his own hands.
"I was so worried about you and about the company. After the whole quest, that it would end in bloodshed. I did not know what to do," Bilbo said, light tears dripping onto the cot. "I wanted to apologize for the whole mess with the stone-" Thorin stopped him before he could continue.
"Bilbo," Thorin said with a harsh tone. He stopped to cough a bit, his deep intakes of breath filling his chest and lungs with a deep pain. Bilbo glanced toward his voice and pulled his hand closer, pressing it against his cheek. "Bilbo, it is I who should apologize to you. You only wanted what was best, and had I taken action and done my part early on and not lusted after the Arkenstone, you would not have run off in the first place to work behind my back for my own good."
Thranduil snorted at that and Bilbo turned to glare at him with tears in his eyes. Thorin raised an eyebrow. Thranduil looked taken aback and shook his head and left the tent.
"Even still I knew that out of all the treasure in the mountain that you wanted most, I took and hid it from you," Bilbo said quietly. A very faint anger rose in Thorin, whatever gold-sickness left him in still angry by the deed of the Hobbit.
Thorin stopped it before it could spread, and looked Bilbo straight into his eyes. "That is in the past now burglar," he said, "do not think of it again. I wish not to feel that rage. My only concern is for my people and for you."
Bilbo nodded his head slowly. He looked left and right and closed his eyes. "Thranduil knows this is long term. I think he only said that it might not be to make me feel better," he answered.
"Then we will see it through. You are the bravest Hobbit I have ever met. We will work this out together," Thorin said moving his hand out of Bilbo's and cupping the Hobbit's cheek. "You have my word."