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Clarity of Vision, Chapter 32/32
Title: Clarity of Vision, Chapter 32/32
Relationship: Thorin/Bilbo
Characters: Bilbo Baggins, Thorin, Kili, Fili, Balin, Dwalin, Dís
Fandom: Hobbit
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1700
Story Summary: In a Middle-Earth where Erebor never fell, a shadow remains in the heart of the Lonely Mountain. Bilbo Baggins finds himself drawn reluctantly into a quest that will lead him across the continent--from Bree to Lake Evendim to the icy North and beyond--with a party of five dwarves searching for an artifact that will cure the ailing King Thrór.
Chapter Summary: Bilbo prepares to leave Erebor and farewells are said--but farewells are not forever.
"Promise?"
Fíli and Kíli spoke in unison, and if Bilbo was tempted to smile at all, the urgency in their eyes helped him suppress it.
"Of course I'll come back and visit," he said reassuringly, picking up a pair of paisley-patterned socks and folding them carefully. "Demand for Shire tea is apparently quite high here in Erebor, I shall have to return to check and see what varieties to ship east."
"We won't be able to come see you, I don't think," said Fíli. "It looks like we'll be too busy. Uncle says he relies on our help so much lately." He tried to sound regretful, but his delight shone through his words and he bounced on the balls of his feet, the braids in his beard quivering with his smile.
"But we're not asking for us--although we'll miss you terribly, of course," said Kíli. "We're asking for Uncle Thorin. He might not show it much, but he'll miss you too, you know."
"Oh," said Bilbo with a small smile, "I know." He reached up and clasped Kíli's shoulder in one hand and Fíli's in another. "Thank you for sharing the road with me, my friends. You are fine warriors and better princes, and the very best of comrades."
Kíli's lower lip was trembling and he rubbed his sleeve across his face. "Mother says it's not shameful to weep at partings," he muttered.
"Of course it's not," said Bilbo, and pulled them both close for a long embrace.
"You needn't be so careful in your packing, Bilbo," said Balin. "We can take as many mules as we need."
"And you'll have the two of us to keep you safe," added Dwalin, smacking a fist into his hand with satisfaction. "It's been months since I've had a good fight!"
"He's more likely to get into a bar brawl than to encounter any goblins," Balin said reassuringly to Bilbo, who was gazing in dismay at his overflowing bags.
"I would prefer to travel lighter," Bilbo said, scratching his head. "But I can't leave behind the silver salt and pepper shakers Dori gave me, or the crystal buttons from Mîn. And it would be rude to not take the bronze shield from Gimli, although I can't imagine when I'd need a shield! And oh dear, I certainly can't leave this," he said, fingering a rich brocade cloak with a raven picked out in golden thread, a parting gift from Thrór. "I must say, you dwarves are certainly ones for lavish gifts."
Dwalin clapped him on the back. "It is no more than you deserve, Bilbo, for saving the Line of Durin."
"In more ways than one," added Balin, attempting to push a pair of filigreed bracers--a gift from Dís--into a bulging bag.
"I'll let you in on a secret, Bilbo," said Dwalin. "We dwarves are not usually given to fancy words and pretty speeches. We show our hearts through deeds--and through gifts."
"Hobbits are not much different," Bilbo said, "But a good bottle of wine and a loaf of home-baked bread take up much less space on the mantle in the long run. Not that I'm complaining," he said hastily as he picked up the set of pens with ruby nibs from Balin and found a corner of space for them. "I just feel awkward that I can't give anything back."
"Just come back and see us now and then," said Balin.
Bilbo brightened. "That's a good point! I can bring more biscuits and sweets then."
Balin smiled as if Bilbo had somehow missed the point, but all he said was "Those would be pleasant too."
"I'm surprised you're letting him go."
Thorin looked up from the trade agreements with Rohan he was considering to gaze at Dís, but said nothing.
"You can act as cool as you want in front of the others, but I know you," she said.
"Then I am surprised you can even speak of my 'letting' him do anything, sister. I would no more keep him here than try to trap Spring in a bottle."
She looked at him keenly, then pulled a chair to sit down closer to him. "You would go with him," she said. "If it were yours to choose."
He flinched as if she had placed her finger on a raw wound, saw her notice it. "But it is not," he said. "Thráin brought us to the brink of war with Gundabad, shattered the faith of our people. It is imperative that the line of succession be followed faithfully, that tradition win out over chaos. They cannot feel abandoned by yet another of the Line of Durin, not now."
"That you have so many arguments marshaled reveals the turmoil in your own heart," she said.
He smiled then, a small and bittersweet smile. "Sister, I will tell only you this, and only once. He followed me across the world, and I would in turn gladly follow him wherever fate would lead him, for as long as I was allowed, whether to the quiet fields of the Shire or to the uttermost ends of the world. But as long as my duty keeps me here, such things are not to be." He drew the paper close to him again and bent his head to it. "Do not speak to me of this again," he said in a whisper. "For my own sake."
She sat for a time in silence, and he dared not look at her, dared not glimpse her expression at his traitorous and shameful confession. Finally she stood and went to the door. He heard her skirts rustle as she turned, then heard her voice.
"Brother, I swear that I and my sons will do all we can to help you fulfill your duty to Erebor. And one day we shall speak of this again, but for now our family shall devote itself to healing the Lonely Mountain."
And then she was gone. Thorin blinked at the blurry words on the paper--Fengel, son of Folcwine, son of Folca, sends salutations to the King of Erebor--until they cleared and sharpened.
Then he turned to his work once more.
"I wish to give you something."
"Oh, but--you've given me so much already," Bilbo faltered, looking around their room one last time. The mules were all loaded, the packing completed. Just outside the gate people were gathering to bid farewell to Mister Baggins of the Shire, and Balin and Dwalin were waiting for him. He touched the star brooch at his throat. "I don't really need anything more to remember you by."
"This is not a simple love-token," Thorin said. He opened a chest at the foot of the bed and pulled out a silk-wrapped bundle. It chimed softly in his hands, a sweet sound like a splashing brook.
When he opened the wrapping, a shirt of mail, glittering like light on water, cascaded down.
"You get into so much trouble that I thought it might be wisest not to send you away without some protection," he said as Bilbo gaped.
"Well--I only get into trouble when I'm with you," Bilbo managed, his eyes still caught by the glimmering flow of what had to be mithril. He reached out a tentative hand and let the shirt run through his fingers, as cool and soft as silk. "I'm sure without you around my life will be utterly safe and...and quite boring."
"Take off your cloak," said Thorin. "You shall wear it as you leave our gates."
Bilbo unfastened his brooch and let the cloak whisper to the ground. Thorin lifted the shirt and dropped it over his head; Bilbo braced himself for the weight of the mail falling on his shoulders, but it was as light as a flower petal.
"It was mine when I was a--when I was younger," said Thorin. Bilbo was fairly certain he had been going to say "when I was a child" and changed his mind. "I had the proportions altered slightly to suit you."
"It's...beautiful," he whispered, looking down at the intricate links. "Thank you."
Thorin stooped and picked up his cloak, settled it around his shoulders. He took the star brooch and pinned it once more. His hands were trembling, and Bilbo reached up to catch them in his own.
"I have no such treasure to give you," he said. "But you know what it is I leave with you."
"I could ask for no greater treasure," said Thorin, and drew him close.
The Red Book of Westmarch reports that it was a bright and sunny day when Bilbo Baggins left the Lonely Mountain, and that the air smelled of spring. The Annals of Erebor make no mention of the weather, but do record that dwarves by the thousands massed at the gates and on the ramparts as the only honorary dwarf in Middle Earth rode out with his companions. They add that King Thorin kissed him farewell, and all the people of the Lonely Mountain cheered "until the very rocks seemed to cry out."
And so Bilbo Baggins started on the long road to the Shire alongside his friends Balin and Dwalin, and he waved back over his shoulder until he could no longer see anything of Thorin, until the road carried him around a corner and the gates of Erebor vanished from his sight. The Red Book does not record if he wept as he turned his face at last to the west; nor do the Annals tell us if the King of Erebor returned to his quarters in silence and spoke to no one for hours, gazing into the fire and thinking long on things he locked in the chambers of his heart and shared with none.
But then, these events marked the end of but the first of their journeys together, and by no means the greatest or most difficult; but of those later travels in the lands beyond Dorwinion and the Sea of Rhûn, and their effects on the world of Middle Earth, much has been written elsewhere. Yet for many years an uneasy peace ruled the land, and the might of the dwarves of Erebor grew, and trade flourished between the Shire and the Lonely Mountain; even as a dark power marshaled its forces in the east and prepared to reach forth its hand to reclaim what was its own.
---
Bilbo and Thorin's story will continue in the one-shot "Letters from Erebor," (to be posted no later than April 18) and then the story of the fate of this world's Ring will be told in "Clarity of Purpose" (posting will begin no later than May 16!)
Thank you for all the wonderful support for this story and for coming with Thorin and Bilbo on their journey! Your feedback and enthusiasm has meant the world to me. I promise I will not leave them separate forever, though the road east may be a hard one...
Relationship: Thorin/Bilbo
Characters: Bilbo Baggins, Thorin, Kili, Fili, Balin, Dwalin, Dís
Fandom: Hobbit
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1700
Story Summary: In a Middle-Earth where Erebor never fell, a shadow remains in the heart of the Lonely Mountain. Bilbo Baggins finds himself drawn reluctantly into a quest that will lead him across the continent--from Bree to Lake Evendim to the icy North and beyond--with a party of five dwarves searching for an artifact that will cure the ailing King Thrór.
Chapter Summary: Bilbo prepares to leave Erebor and farewells are said--but farewells are not forever.
"Promise?"
Fíli and Kíli spoke in unison, and if Bilbo was tempted to smile at all, the urgency in their eyes helped him suppress it.
"Of course I'll come back and visit," he said reassuringly, picking up a pair of paisley-patterned socks and folding them carefully. "Demand for Shire tea is apparently quite high here in Erebor, I shall have to return to check and see what varieties to ship east."
"We won't be able to come see you, I don't think," said Fíli. "It looks like we'll be too busy. Uncle says he relies on our help so much lately." He tried to sound regretful, but his delight shone through his words and he bounced on the balls of his feet, the braids in his beard quivering with his smile.
"But we're not asking for us--although we'll miss you terribly, of course," said Kíli. "We're asking for Uncle Thorin. He might not show it much, but he'll miss you too, you know."
"Oh," said Bilbo with a small smile, "I know." He reached up and clasped Kíli's shoulder in one hand and Fíli's in another. "Thank you for sharing the road with me, my friends. You are fine warriors and better princes, and the very best of comrades."
Kíli's lower lip was trembling and he rubbed his sleeve across his face. "Mother says it's not shameful to weep at partings," he muttered.
"Of course it's not," said Bilbo, and pulled them both close for a long embrace.
"You needn't be so careful in your packing, Bilbo," said Balin. "We can take as many mules as we need."
"And you'll have the two of us to keep you safe," added Dwalin, smacking a fist into his hand with satisfaction. "It's been months since I've had a good fight!"
"He's more likely to get into a bar brawl than to encounter any goblins," Balin said reassuringly to Bilbo, who was gazing in dismay at his overflowing bags.
"I would prefer to travel lighter," Bilbo said, scratching his head. "But I can't leave behind the silver salt and pepper shakers Dori gave me, or the crystal buttons from Mîn. And it would be rude to not take the bronze shield from Gimli, although I can't imagine when I'd need a shield! And oh dear, I certainly can't leave this," he said, fingering a rich brocade cloak with a raven picked out in golden thread, a parting gift from Thrór. "I must say, you dwarves are certainly ones for lavish gifts."
Dwalin clapped him on the back. "It is no more than you deserve, Bilbo, for saving the Line of Durin."
"In more ways than one," added Balin, attempting to push a pair of filigreed bracers--a gift from Dís--into a bulging bag.
"I'll let you in on a secret, Bilbo," said Dwalin. "We dwarves are not usually given to fancy words and pretty speeches. We show our hearts through deeds--and through gifts."
"Hobbits are not much different," Bilbo said, "But a good bottle of wine and a loaf of home-baked bread take up much less space on the mantle in the long run. Not that I'm complaining," he said hastily as he picked up the set of pens with ruby nibs from Balin and found a corner of space for them. "I just feel awkward that I can't give anything back."
"Just come back and see us now and then," said Balin.
Bilbo brightened. "That's a good point! I can bring more biscuits and sweets then."
Balin smiled as if Bilbo had somehow missed the point, but all he said was "Those would be pleasant too."
"I'm surprised you're letting him go."
Thorin looked up from the trade agreements with Rohan he was considering to gaze at Dís, but said nothing.
"You can act as cool as you want in front of the others, but I know you," she said.
"Then I am surprised you can even speak of my 'letting' him do anything, sister. I would no more keep him here than try to trap Spring in a bottle."
She looked at him keenly, then pulled a chair to sit down closer to him. "You would go with him," she said. "If it were yours to choose."
He flinched as if she had placed her finger on a raw wound, saw her notice it. "But it is not," he said. "Thráin brought us to the brink of war with Gundabad, shattered the faith of our people. It is imperative that the line of succession be followed faithfully, that tradition win out over chaos. They cannot feel abandoned by yet another of the Line of Durin, not now."
"That you have so many arguments marshaled reveals the turmoil in your own heart," she said.
He smiled then, a small and bittersweet smile. "Sister, I will tell only you this, and only once. He followed me across the world, and I would in turn gladly follow him wherever fate would lead him, for as long as I was allowed, whether to the quiet fields of the Shire or to the uttermost ends of the world. But as long as my duty keeps me here, such things are not to be." He drew the paper close to him again and bent his head to it. "Do not speak to me of this again," he said in a whisper. "For my own sake."
She sat for a time in silence, and he dared not look at her, dared not glimpse her expression at his traitorous and shameful confession. Finally she stood and went to the door. He heard her skirts rustle as she turned, then heard her voice.
"Brother, I swear that I and my sons will do all we can to help you fulfill your duty to Erebor. And one day we shall speak of this again, but for now our family shall devote itself to healing the Lonely Mountain."
And then she was gone. Thorin blinked at the blurry words on the paper--Fengel, son of Folcwine, son of Folca, sends salutations to the King of Erebor--until they cleared and sharpened.
Then he turned to his work once more.
"I wish to give you something."
"Oh, but--you've given me so much already," Bilbo faltered, looking around their room one last time. The mules were all loaded, the packing completed. Just outside the gate people were gathering to bid farewell to Mister Baggins of the Shire, and Balin and Dwalin were waiting for him. He touched the star brooch at his throat. "I don't really need anything more to remember you by."
"This is not a simple love-token," Thorin said. He opened a chest at the foot of the bed and pulled out a silk-wrapped bundle. It chimed softly in his hands, a sweet sound like a splashing brook.
When he opened the wrapping, a shirt of mail, glittering like light on water, cascaded down.
"You get into so much trouble that I thought it might be wisest not to send you away without some protection," he said as Bilbo gaped.
"Well--I only get into trouble when I'm with you," Bilbo managed, his eyes still caught by the glimmering flow of what had to be mithril. He reached out a tentative hand and let the shirt run through his fingers, as cool and soft as silk. "I'm sure without you around my life will be utterly safe and...and quite boring."
"Take off your cloak," said Thorin. "You shall wear it as you leave our gates."
Bilbo unfastened his brooch and let the cloak whisper to the ground. Thorin lifted the shirt and dropped it over his head; Bilbo braced himself for the weight of the mail falling on his shoulders, but it was as light as a flower petal.
"It was mine when I was a--when I was younger," said Thorin. Bilbo was fairly certain he had been going to say "when I was a child" and changed his mind. "I had the proportions altered slightly to suit you."
"It's...beautiful," he whispered, looking down at the intricate links. "Thank you."
Thorin stooped and picked up his cloak, settled it around his shoulders. He took the star brooch and pinned it once more. His hands were trembling, and Bilbo reached up to catch them in his own.
"I have no such treasure to give you," he said. "But you know what it is I leave with you."
"I could ask for no greater treasure," said Thorin, and drew him close.
The Red Book of Westmarch reports that it was a bright and sunny day when Bilbo Baggins left the Lonely Mountain, and that the air smelled of spring. The Annals of Erebor make no mention of the weather, but do record that dwarves by the thousands massed at the gates and on the ramparts as the only honorary dwarf in Middle Earth rode out with his companions. They add that King Thorin kissed him farewell, and all the people of the Lonely Mountain cheered "until the very rocks seemed to cry out."
And so Bilbo Baggins started on the long road to the Shire alongside his friends Balin and Dwalin, and he waved back over his shoulder until he could no longer see anything of Thorin, until the road carried him around a corner and the gates of Erebor vanished from his sight. The Red Book does not record if he wept as he turned his face at last to the west; nor do the Annals tell us if the King of Erebor returned to his quarters in silence and spoke to no one for hours, gazing into the fire and thinking long on things he locked in the chambers of his heart and shared with none.
But then, these events marked the end of but the first of their journeys together, and by no means the greatest or most difficult; but of those later travels in the lands beyond Dorwinion and the Sea of Rhûn, and their effects on the world of Middle Earth, much has been written elsewhere. Yet for many years an uneasy peace ruled the land, and the might of the dwarves of Erebor grew, and trade flourished between the Shire and the Lonely Mountain; even as a dark power marshaled its forces in the east and prepared to reach forth its hand to reclaim what was its own.
---
Bilbo and Thorin's story will continue in the one-shot "Letters from Erebor," (to be posted no later than April 18) and then the story of the fate of this world's Ring will be told in "Clarity of Purpose" (posting will begin no later than May 16!)
Thank you for all the wonderful support for this story and for coming with Thorin and Bilbo on their journey! Your feedback and enthusiasm has meant the world to me. I promise I will not leave them separate forever, though the road east may be a hard one...
no subject
Thank you for the author's note at the end - it made it somewhat bearable. I can't believe it's over. It was such a journey.
"But a good bottle of wine and a loaf of home-baked bread take up much less space on the mantle in the long run.
LOL *cries again*
paisley-patterned socks He tried to sound regretful, but his delight shone through his words and he bounced on the balls of his feet, the braids in his beard quivering with his smile.
*smiles*
Kíli's lower lip was trembling and he rubbed his sleeve across his face. "Mother says it's not shameful to weep at partings," he muttered.
*cries*
Dís! Thorin! Ah! *beats breast*
Thorin blinked at the blurry words on the paper--Fengel, son of Folcwine, son of Folca, sends salutations to the King of Erebor--until they cleared and sharpened.
This is such a good way to show what's happening.
His hands were trembling, and Bilbo reached up to catch them in his own.
"I have no such treasure to give you," he said. "But you know what it is I leave with you."
These two. Even understated is too much a word. All the unspoken things... I am torn between being grateful that this is so short and despair of it. äladfkngäladnfkxcn
the King of Erebor returned to his quarters in silence and spoke to no one for hours, gazing into the fire and thinking long on things he locked in the chambers of his heart and shared with none.
Thoooooooooooooooooooooooooorin! urgh. Oh god.
.
.
,
I fully admit that I put off reading this. Goodbyes are always hard. Thank you again for the author's note!
I can't wait for the new fics! especially the letters OMG. I am looking forward to doing fanart of Thoprin writing a letter, or making such a letter or or or ....
This series has been wonderful *sigh* In a way it reminds me of your 36 Views of Mount Fuji series, it has a similar vibe in the understatedness department to it I think.
no subject
I've finished the Letters and in fact finished the very first chapter of Clarity of Purpose today! I promised myself if I could finish two chapters of CoP I could post the Letters early, so it's looking optimistic!
These two. Even understated is too much a word. All the unspoken things... I am torn between being grateful that this is so short and despair of it. äladfkngäladnfkxcn
They're brutal to write, in some ways! They don't need to say a lot of the things we want to hear them say, and yet it kills me that they generally don't... *sighs at them*
It's funny, I'm just uploading 36 Views to AO3 recently, and I see what you mean with that! There is a LOT that goes unsaid, especially early on in that series...
I hope you don't have to wait too long to see this version of Thorin and Bilbo again! Great adventures await them! :)
no subject
YAY!
They're brutal to write, in some ways!
Oh I can imagine that. Obstinate characters must be such a chore to write, LOL.
Ah and I had been wondering! I had searched for the Fuji series on AO3 (just for convenience's sake - I downloaded the beautiful pfds you had on your LJ, but they are on an external harddrive) and didn't find it. Now it makes sense. :-)
no subject
I didn't upload it for a long time because--well, half of it is posted on a different journal, and the formatting isn't exactly AO3-friendly, so it's taking me a while. But I love it and so I set out to put it up this spring! :) I've ended up re-reading it for the first time in years, and there are some things that make me cringe (I still am using too many epithets! I know Bruce is trying to remind himself Clark isn't just an alien, but calling him "the Kansan" all the time is not really necessary!) but I admit the sequence in the dream-world has always been one of my favorites, so I'm looking forward to getting to that and re-reading it!
no subject