Clarity of Purpose, Chapter 32/34
Sep. 7th, 2015 08:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mithenTitle: Clarity of Purpose, Chap. 32
Chapter Summary: Thorin awakes to reunions and explanations.
Relationship: Thorin/Bilbo
Characters: Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo, Arwen, Dis, Aragorn, Gandalf
Fandom: Hobbit/Lord of the Rings. Begins in 2968, twenty-six years after the events of "Clarity of Vision" and fifty years before the canonical events of "Lord of the Rings." Thus, characters' ages and the geopolitical situation will be different than LoTR canon!
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3100
Summary: Thorin Oakenshield and Bilbo Baggins have been parted for many years now, despite the love they bear each other. Now Thorin's research has uncovered a dire threat to Middle Earth--the Ring he carried a little while and then gave to Bilbo. Together with a group of companions composed of the different Free Peoples of Middle Earth, they must attempt to destroy the artifact before its Dark Lord can re-capture it.
Thorin woke to a vague and confused impression of light. His armor was gone and he seemed to be dressed in a linen shift, soft and pale. Everything seemed to be suffused with radiance, gentle and warm, and for a moment he nearly panicked: had he died on the battlefield? Was he separated from Bilbo?
He sat up and everything spun around him; he had a confused impression of walls that rippled gently. A tent, then. He looked to his right--and caught his breath as he recognized Dís, lying on the bed next to him. Her hair, fanned out on the pillow, was completely white, and her face was pale and still.
“Dís,” he croaked, and leaped from the bed--or started to, but his knees gave out from under him and he went down on the floor. “Sister,” he managed.
And then Gandalf was there, dressed all in white also, lifting him back to the bed with ease. “Rest easy, old friend,” said the wizard.
“So we are dead,” Thorin said. “Is Bilbo--where are we? Why is Dís not in Mahal’s halls? She had no part in--is she to be punished for my sin?”
“We are none of us dead, Thorin Oakenshield,” Gandalf said, pressing Thorin back down onto the bed. “Dís is recovering from a feat that will live in legend. And you are to stop talking of ‘sin’ in this ridiculous way, this self-flagellation does not suit you.” His face was kind but stern, and Thorin wondered how much he had been saying in his sleep as he recovered. He remembered his father’s eyes as he fell--
No. He shook his head firmly and looked up at Gandalf. “Where is Bilbo?”
Gandalf chuckled, and the sternness fell away into pleasure. “It is a relief to see you have your priorities in the right order after all,” he said.
“I am here, Thorin,” said a voice at the doorway, and Thorin looked to see Bilbo standing there. He was dressed all in green and brown, and instead of the golden ring he wore around his neck the beech-nut Wandlimb had given him, strung on a simple leather cord. “Hobbits clearly have much stronger constitutions than you dwarves after all,” he said with a merry smile, and came to take Thorin’s hands in his. Then the smile wavered slightly, and he touched his lips to Thorin’s hands. “Or I suppose it could be that you sheltered my body with your own, at the end.”
“The former, I am certain,” Thorin said with a laugh.
“Of course,” Bilbo said softly.
“Of course the two of you are too caught up in each other to ask the important questions,” said a new voice, hoarse but clear, and Thorin turned to see Dís smiling at him from her bed. “But I for one would like to hear why the wizard is not, after all, dead.”
Gandalf smiled again and touched Dís’s forehead. “It is a strange tale, and one I do not fully understand myself,” he said. “The vampire Thuringwëthil carried me upward, higher than any eagle, and as we flew she tore at me and I battered at her, but I feared my strength was not enough. My only thought was to harm or delay her so that you could escape.
“Higher we flew, and still higher, until the air itself became thin and the sky black and lifeless and the infinite stars shone around us. The light of the stars seemed to dazzle and burn the vampire, for she shrieked--or tried to, but there was no air left for her, and her lips were stained with her own blood, and her grip on me slackened at last. For a moment we hung there in the outer airs of the world, and as we did it seemed to me that I could hear music--” He broke off and shook his head. “And then her eyes closed, and we fell.
“A long time I fell, I know now how long indeed, but time seemed strange and askew so far above the earth. I would have thought my life over but for what I had heard in that moment of music, and so I let the earth pull me down without a struggle, and I embraced whatever destiny awaited me at the end of my fall.
“I landed in water,” said Gandalf, “The coolest, purest water that I had ever beheld, and I knew that I had landed in Cuiviénen.”
“Cuiviénen?” came a new voice, and Arwen came into the room, hand in hand with Estel. They were dressed all in dark blue velvet and brocade, and there was a peace about them that Thorin had never seen before. “Your fall brought you to the waters beside which the first elves awoke?”
Gandalf sketched a small bow at the two of them; Arwen smiled and Estel made a small scoffing noise at the gesture. “It did, my lady,” he said. “The very waters which Thuringwëthil had promised the King of the Easterlings would give him eternal life. Oh, they have no such occult properties,” he said quickly, “Nonetheless, I did somehow find myself alive, and as I struggled to shore I found my robes had turned white, as if the gray had been washed away by their touch.”
“I thought Saruman was the White Wizard,” said Bilbo, and Gandalf bowed his head.
“I fear that Saruman has met his end,” he said. “I felt it in that timeless moment among the stars, and Pallando and Alatar have told me they shared that feeling. So passed a great wisdom, turned to greed and ambition.” His eyes were sorrowful, but Thorin was more concerned about the fact that Balin had been besieging Orthanc with the elves of Lothlorien the last he had heard.
“My grandfather,” murmured Arwen, and Estel put an arm around her.
“We shall send messengers to Khazad-dûm and Erebor to see how the kith and kin of the Fellowship fare,” Aragorn said.
“So wait,” said Bilbo. “How did you get from this Queevy place (“Cuiviénen,” murmured Arwen) to here?”
Gandalf shrugged. “An eagle alighted on a pine tree at the shore and told me I was needed in Saynshar,” he said.
“This happens to you a lot, getting ferried around by eagles?” Thorin said.
Gandalf smiled, pulling out his pipe. “You should try it sometime.”
“No, thank you very much,” said Bilbo with an elaborate shudder. “I prefer to keep my feet on solid ground.”
The wizard lit his pipe and blew gently on the bowl. “The rest, anyone can tell you about,” he said. “Suffice to say a quick negotiation with Princess Samur later, I was at the head of an army heading West. And now the Dark Lord is overthrown, the battles are over, and Aragorn Elessar and his bride-to-be are preparing to begin their reign over Gondor in this new age of peace.” He smiled at Arwen and Estel again, nodding.
“Wait,” said Bilbo, crossing his arms and frowning. “Aragorn Elessar? Who is this person and why does he think he can just show up after all the fighting is done and take over? That takes a lot of nerve, I have to say.”
There was an awkward pause in which Gandalf seemed to be choking on pipe smoke. Then he stood up and said “Thorin, I leave this to you,” and exited the tent hastily.
An hour later--after Thorin had made both explanations and apologies to an extremely huffy Bilbo and promised to tell him if he was traveling with royalty in the future--a red-faced Bilbo was bowing to Aragorn and Arwen and apologizing for his familiarity to the High King and Queen.
“My dear friend,” said Aragorn, laughing, “If you treat me with any extra gravity from now I will be sorely offended.”
Two hours later Bilbo had his feet propped up on a cushion and was blowing smoke rings and playing riddle games with Aragorn, much to the amazement of the courtiers who came by to ask him for details of his marriage and crowning, and much to the delight of Aragorn. "Where are Theoden and Denethor?" Bilbo asked after a time. "I haven't seen them since coming here to Minas Tirith."
"Theoden is busy in our stables," Aragorn said with a smile. "He swore to get our stud tables in order and select only the best mounts for the coronation and wedding. I told him we had weeks, but he seemed eager to be among horses again. As for Denethor... he is off on an urgent mission to Dol Amroth, to see his Finduilas. He seems to believe that now that he is no longer lord of Minas Tirith, their engagement will be annulled."
"So," Bilbo said, thinking back on their journey together, "he feared losing his love if you retook the throne." Aragorn inclined his head. "You know, I would have understood so much more of what was going on if you had just kept me informed!"
"Forgive me, Bilbo." Aragorn's apology sounded heartfelt, although there was laughter dancing in his gray eyes. "I shall make you one of my most honored advisers, and I shall never keep you in the dark again."
Bilbo's thoughts had already returned to Denethor. "But surely she won't reject him just because of that!"
Aragorn shrugged, toying with the golden fringe on the upholstery of his chair. "Dynastic marriages have been called off for much less," he said. "But I suspect that the princess of Dol Amroth will prove more true than Denethor fears."
"Well, I certainly hope so," said Bilbo. "I would hate to see him treated so shabbily by someone he loves."
The conversation turned then to Legolas and Gimli and their work with the new diplomats of Nurn--as it turned out, the Nurnians trusted elves and dwarves more than Gondorians, and the pair had broken up their fair share of brawls between the two groups. Bilbo rather got the impression they were enjoying themselves. They had discussed preparations for the wedding for a while by the time Bilbo excused himself to go check on Thorin again--"He grows crabby if I leave him alone for long," he said to Aragorn, who smiled and refrained from pointing out that Bilbo became remarkably tetchy if long separated from Thorin--but before he could leave the hall there was a flourish of trumpets and a page ran into the room, looking flustered.
"My liege," he said, bowing to Aragorn, and Bilbo had to hide a giggle behind his hand at how awed he looked, as if Aragorn was some kind of legend instead of just plain old Estel. "Messengers have arrived--from Khazad-dûm and Lothlórien. They bring tidings of the siege of Orthanc."
Aragorn stood in haste. "Send for Arwen and Thorin, for I am sure they will wish to hear such news," he said.
Soon enough, Arwen and Thorin were both seated in the royal chambers on either side of Aragorn, with Gandalf in his white robes standing to the side. "Dís was not well enough to come," Thorin said, and Bilbo privately felt that Thorin looked too pale and unsteady to be out of his sickbed either. He held his tongue as Thorin took a seat in one of the chairs that flanked Aragorn's throne, but quietly fetched an extra pillow to put behind Thorin's back. Thorin gave him a grateful look, settling against it with a sigh. He was dressed in robes of dark midnight-blue trimmed with silver, but Bilbo noticed he was not wearing any mark of his kingly status.
Trumpets sounded again, and the doors opened to admit--
"Why, it's Haldir," cried Bilbo, "and Ori!"
The elf and dwarf stopped, startled. "Indeed, Mister Baggins," said Haldir with a bow, "Though it has been long since we met in the Golden Wood."
"And I'm surprised you remember me at all," said his companion, a nervous-looking dwarf with his golden hair cut straight across his forehead.
"You were the scribe with the caravan that brought me to Erebor," said Bilbo. "Dori is your brother, is he not? Does he still use too much pepper in his stews?"
Ori laughed in startled surprise and bowed deeply to Bilbo. "I believe you broke him of that vice, Mister Baggins!" Then he looked at Thorin and his laughter died to be replaced by solemnity. "Your majesty, I rejoice to find you were and well," he said. "I have traveled long with Haldir to bring news of the fall of Orthanc, but I never looked to find you here, safe and hale."
"What news of the siege?" said Thorin eagerly. "What news of my kinsman, and of the grandfather of Lady Arwen?"
"King Balin and King Celeborn live yet," Haldir said, and Bilbo saw both of his friends sigh and relax slightly. "And we are triumphant, though perhaps we did not deserve to be."
Ori nodded, and there was a blush on his cheeks. "The siege dragged on, and the armies of Khazad-dûm and Lothlórien grew weary, and quarrels broke out between them, much as Balin and Celeborn struggled to keep the peace."
Haldir picked up the story as Ori paused. "And one day, when all were exhausted and tired of the siege and yearning for our homes, the door to Orthanc opened and Saruman came out to parley with us."
There was a long pause where neither of them spoke, but looked at each other, and there was shame on their faces. Finally, Ori said, "It grieves me to speak of this, but Saruman spoke to us with cunning words, like honey laced with secret venom. All he said seemed somehow fair and good, but he stirred up the hatred between our two groups, and fanned the spark of enmity into flame."
"Subtly he reminded us of our histories of strife, while seeming to flatter us," Haldir went on. "he spoke of the wisdom of Thingol of old, and I saw in Celeborn's eyes that he remembered then how his liege was slain by dwarves."
“And he also praised Celeborn for not betraying or abandoning his allies, as so many elves had done in the past. And these words struck Balin and indeed all of us with dark memories,” Ori said, hanging his head.
“By such blandishments and poisoned words, he turned us against each other,” Haldir said grimly. “Too late did Balin and Celeborn realize what was happening, and none saw who among the vast armies first drew weapon against the other, but soon strife broke out, and it seemed that the alliance would fail in chaos and bloodshed.”
“Yet fate and luck were with us that day,” said Ori. “For Saruman attempted to flee in the turmoil, and was caught in the crossfire. Through no strength of our own, he fell that day, pierced by a dwarvish arrow meant for an elf and an elvish arrow meant for a dwarf.”
“And so his manipulations and his cunning lead to this at last,” said Gandalf, and there was sorrow in his voice. “To die nearly-unnoticed in conflict of his own creation. He was the greatest of us, once.”
“After his fall,” said Haldir, “It was as if our eyes were suddenly unblinkered and our ears unstopped, and Balin and Celeborn were able to stop the fight from becoming a slaughter. Our armies parted not as friends, but at least not as enemies,” he said, bowing his head.
“Though some of us have become friends indeed, I like to think,” Ori observed, and Haldir smiled down at him.
“I am pleased to hear my kinsman lives and that Orthanc has fallen,” Thorin said. “We must consider what this means for--” He stood up as he spoke, and then went very pale, and his knees started to buckle.
But Bilbo was suddenly there at his side, holding him up. “Back to bed with you, Thorin,” he said sternly. “Let people who can stand up deal with the details. I’m taking care of you now.”
And indeed, Thorin soon found himself in bed once more, looking up at the ceiling--he tried to make it a glare, but he kept drifting off into a half-doze. Bilbo had disappeared after dropping him off with stern warnings not to budge, and Thorin wondered vaguely where he was. But he felt so safe and comfortable that it was hard to worry too much.
Thorin Oakenshield lay wrapped in linen, hovering between sleep and waking, and healed.
An impossibly delicious scent woke him, and he sat up with his mouth watering. “What--”
Bilbo was there, smiling at him, with a covered platter in his hands. “I couldn’t make much with the field kitchen here, but--” He whisked off the cover to reveal slices of bread covered with broiled cheese, melted and bubbling. “I found a little garlic to grind up and add too, that should stimulate your appetite.”
“I hope you brought enough for two,” said Dís’s voice from the other side of the tent.
“I brought enough for three!” Bilbo said triumphantly.
Soon enough all of them were filled with toasted cheese and well-watered wine, and Dís was asleep again almost immediately, after declaring the meal “more healing than kingsfoil.” Thorin was drifting asleep once more when he felt small hands running through his hair, still unbraided after being washed by the healers. He sighed sleepily and heard Bilbo chuckle nearby.
“Give me a second and I’ll get you braided up right again,” he said, combing out Thorin’s hair and starting to plait it with care. “So...what next?” he said after a moment.
“Mmm,” said Thorin, not really wanting to admit that he hadn’t been thinking past this moment. “Aragorn has asked us to stay to see his coronation and wedding.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“After that, I must return to Erebor, to find out the fate of the Lonely Mountains and my kin there.”
Bilbo’s hands paused on his plait. “The Lonely Mountain isn’t too far out of the way from the Shire. Would you mind if I tagged along?” he said.
Thorin felt sudden tears stinging his eyes. He reached up and captured one of Bilbo’s hands. “Having you at my side is all I want in this world,” he said.
Bilbo leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “Then you shall have it,” he said. “In this world, and in any that come after.”
Chapter Summary: Thorin awakes to reunions and explanations.
Relationship: Thorin/Bilbo
Characters: Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo, Arwen, Dis, Aragorn, Gandalf
Fandom: Hobbit/Lord of the Rings. Begins in 2968, twenty-six years after the events of "Clarity of Vision" and fifty years before the canonical events of "Lord of the Rings." Thus, characters' ages and the geopolitical situation will be different than LoTR canon!
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3100
Summary: Thorin Oakenshield and Bilbo Baggins have been parted for many years now, despite the love they bear each other. Now Thorin's research has uncovered a dire threat to Middle Earth--the Ring he carried a little while and then gave to Bilbo. Together with a group of companions composed of the different Free Peoples of Middle Earth, they must attempt to destroy the artifact before its Dark Lord can re-capture it.
Thorin woke to a vague and confused impression of light. His armor was gone and he seemed to be dressed in a linen shift, soft and pale. Everything seemed to be suffused with radiance, gentle and warm, and for a moment he nearly panicked: had he died on the battlefield? Was he separated from Bilbo?
He sat up and everything spun around him; he had a confused impression of walls that rippled gently. A tent, then. He looked to his right--and caught his breath as he recognized Dís, lying on the bed next to him. Her hair, fanned out on the pillow, was completely white, and her face was pale and still.
“Dís,” he croaked, and leaped from the bed--or started to, but his knees gave out from under him and he went down on the floor. “Sister,” he managed.
And then Gandalf was there, dressed all in white also, lifting him back to the bed with ease. “Rest easy, old friend,” said the wizard.
“So we are dead,” Thorin said. “Is Bilbo--where are we? Why is Dís not in Mahal’s halls? She had no part in--is she to be punished for my sin?”
“We are none of us dead, Thorin Oakenshield,” Gandalf said, pressing Thorin back down onto the bed. “Dís is recovering from a feat that will live in legend. And you are to stop talking of ‘sin’ in this ridiculous way, this self-flagellation does not suit you.” His face was kind but stern, and Thorin wondered how much he had been saying in his sleep as he recovered. He remembered his father’s eyes as he fell--
No. He shook his head firmly and looked up at Gandalf. “Where is Bilbo?”
Gandalf chuckled, and the sternness fell away into pleasure. “It is a relief to see you have your priorities in the right order after all,” he said.
“I am here, Thorin,” said a voice at the doorway, and Thorin looked to see Bilbo standing there. He was dressed all in green and brown, and instead of the golden ring he wore around his neck the beech-nut Wandlimb had given him, strung on a simple leather cord. “Hobbits clearly have much stronger constitutions than you dwarves after all,” he said with a merry smile, and came to take Thorin’s hands in his. Then the smile wavered slightly, and he touched his lips to Thorin’s hands. “Or I suppose it could be that you sheltered my body with your own, at the end.”
“The former, I am certain,” Thorin said with a laugh.
“Of course,” Bilbo said softly.
“Of course the two of you are too caught up in each other to ask the important questions,” said a new voice, hoarse but clear, and Thorin turned to see Dís smiling at him from her bed. “But I for one would like to hear why the wizard is not, after all, dead.”
Gandalf smiled again and touched Dís’s forehead. “It is a strange tale, and one I do not fully understand myself,” he said. “The vampire Thuringwëthil carried me upward, higher than any eagle, and as we flew she tore at me and I battered at her, but I feared my strength was not enough. My only thought was to harm or delay her so that you could escape.
“Higher we flew, and still higher, until the air itself became thin and the sky black and lifeless and the infinite stars shone around us. The light of the stars seemed to dazzle and burn the vampire, for she shrieked--or tried to, but there was no air left for her, and her lips were stained with her own blood, and her grip on me slackened at last. For a moment we hung there in the outer airs of the world, and as we did it seemed to me that I could hear music--” He broke off and shook his head. “And then her eyes closed, and we fell.
“A long time I fell, I know now how long indeed, but time seemed strange and askew so far above the earth. I would have thought my life over but for what I had heard in that moment of music, and so I let the earth pull me down without a struggle, and I embraced whatever destiny awaited me at the end of my fall.
“I landed in water,” said Gandalf, “The coolest, purest water that I had ever beheld, and I knew that I had landed in Cuiviénen.”
“Cuiviénen?” came a new voice, and Arwen came into the room, hand in hand with Estel. They were dressed all in dark blue velvet and brocade, and there was a peace about them that Thorin had never seen before. “Your fall brought you to the waters beside which the first elves awoke?”
Gandalf sketched a small bow at the two of them; Arwen smiled and Estel made a small scoffing noise at the gesture. “It did, my lady,” he said. “The very waters which Thuringwëthil had promised the King of the Easterlings would give him eternal life. Oh, they have no such occult properties,” he said quickly, “Nonetheless, I did somehow find myself alive, and as I struggled to shore I found my robes had turned white, as if the gray had been washed away by their touch.”
“I thought Saruman was the White Wizard,” said Bilbo, and Gandalf bowed his head.
“I fear that Saruman has met his end,” he said. “I felt it in that timeless moment among the stars, and Pallando and Alatar have told me they shared that feeling. So passed a great wisdom, turned to greed and ambition.” His eyes were sorrowful, but Thorin was more concerned about the fact that Balin had been besieging Orthanc with the elves of Lothlorien the last he had heard.
“My grandfather,” murmured Arwen, and Estel put an arm around her.
“We shall send messengers to Khazad-dûm and Erebor to see how the kith and kin of the Fellowship fare,” Aragorn said.
“So wait,” said Bilbo. “How did you get from this Queevy place (“Cuiviénen,” murmured Arwen) to here?”
Gandalf shrugged. “An eagle alighted on a pine tree at the shore and told me I was needed in Saynshar,” he said.
“This happens to you a lot, getting ferried around by eagles?” Thorin said.
Gandalf smiled, pulling out his pipe. “You should try it sometime.”
“No, thank you very much,” said Bilbo with an elaborate shudder. “I prefer to keep my feet on solid ground.”
The wizard lit his pipe and blew gently on the bowl. “The rest, anyone can tell you about,” he said. “Suffice to say a quick negotiation with Princess Samur later, I was at the head of an army heading West. And now the Dark Lord is overthrown, the battles are over, and Aragorn Elessar and his bride-to-be are preparing to begin their reign over Gondor in this new age of peace.” He smiled at Arwen and Estel again, nodding.
“Wait,” said Bilbo, crossing his arms and frowning. “Aragorn Elessar? Who is this person and why does he think he can just show up after all the fighting is done and take over? That takes a lot of nerve, I have to say.”
There was an awkward pause in which Gandalf seemed to be choking on pipe smoke. Then he stood up and said “Thorin, I leave this to you,” and exited the tent hastily.
An hour later--after Thorin had made both explanations and apologies to an extremely huffy Bilbo and promised to tell him if he was traveling with royalty in the future--a red-faced Bilbo was bowing to Aragorn and Arwen and apologizing for his familiarity to the High King and Queen.
“My dear friend,” said Aragorn, laughing, “If you treat me with any extra gravity from now I will be sorely offended.”
Two hours later Bilbo had his feet propped up on a cushion and was blowing smoke rings and playing riddle games with Aragorn, much to the amazement of the courtiers who came by to ask him for details of his marriage and crowning, and much to the delight of Aragorn. "Where are Theoden and Denethor?" Bilbo asked after a time. "I haven't seen them since coming here to Minas Tirith."
"Theoden is busy in our stables," Aragorn said with a smile. "He swore to get our stud tables in order and select only the best mounts for the coronation and wedding. I told him we had weeks, but he seemed eager to be among horses again. As for Denethor... he is off on an urgent mission to Dol Amroth, to see his Finduilas. He seems to believe that now that he is no longer lord of Minas Tirith, their engagement will be annulled."
"So," Bilbo said, thinking back on their journey together, "he feared losing his love if you retook the throne." Aragorn inclined his head. "You know, I would have understood so much more of what was going on if you had just kept me informed!"
"Forgive me, Bilbo." Aragorn's apology sounded heartfelt, although there was laughter dancing in his gray eyes. "I shall make you one of my most honored advisers, and I shall never keep you in the dark again."
Bilbo's thoughts had already returned to Denethor. "But surely she won't reject him just because of that!"
Aragorn shrugged, toying with the golden fringe on the upholstery of his chair. "Dynastic marriages have been called off for much less," he said. "But I suspect that the princess of Dol Amroth will prove more true than Denethor fears."
"Well, I certainly hope so," said Bilbo. "I would hate to see him treated so shabbily by someone he loves."
The conversation turned then to Legolas and Gimli and their work with the new diplomats of Nurn--as it turned out, the Nurnians trusted elves and dwarves more than Gondorians, and the pair had broken up their fair share of brawls between the two groups. Bilbo rather got the impression they were enjoying themselves. They had discussed preparations for the wedding for a while by the time Bilbo excused himself to go check on Thorin again--"He grows crabby if I leave him alone for long," he said to Aragorn, who smiled and refrained from pointing out that Bilbo became remarkably tetchy if long separated from Thorin--but before he could leave the hall there was a flourish of trumpets and a page ran into the room, looking flustered.
"My liege," he said, bowing to Aragorn, and Bilbo had to hide a giggle behind his hand at how awed he looked, as if Aragorn was some kind of legend instead of just plain old Estel. "Messengers have arrived--from Khazad-dûm and Lothlórien. They bring tidings of the siege of Orthanc."
Aragorn stood in haste. "Send for Arwen and Thorin, for I am sure they will wish to hear such news," he said.
Soon enough, Arwen and Thorin were both seated in the royal chambers on either side of Aragorn, with Gandalf in his white robes standing to the side. "Dís was not well enough to come," Thorin said, and Bilbo privately felt that Thorin looked too pale and unsteady to be out of his sickbed either. He held his tongue as Thorin took a seat in one of the chairs that flanked Aragorn's throne, but quietly fetched an extra pillow to put behind Thorin's back. Thorin gave him a grateful look, settling against it with a sigh. He was dressed in robes of dark midnight-blue trimmed with silver, but Bilbo noticed he was not wearing any mark of his kingly status.
Trumpets sounded again, and the doors opened to admit--
"Why, it's Haldir," cried Bilbo, "and Ori!"
The elf and dwarf stopped, startled. "Indeed, Mister Baggins," said Haldir with a bow, "Though it has been long since we met in the Golden Wood."
"And I'm surprised you remember me at all," said his companion, a nervous-looking dwarf with his golden hair cut straight across his forehead.
"You were the scribe with the caravan that brought me to Erebor," said Bilbo. "Dori is your brother, is he not? Does he still use too much pepper in his stews?"
Ori laughed in startled surprise and bowed deeply to Bilbo. "I believe you broke him of that vice, Mister Baggins!" Then he looked at Thorin and his laughter died to be replaced by solemnity. "Your majesty, I rejoice to find you were and well," he said. "I have traveled long with Haldir to bring news of the fall of Orthanc, but I never looked to find you here, safe and hale."
"What news of the siege?" said Thorin eagerly. "What news of my kinsman, and of the grandfather of Lady Arwen?"
"King Balin and King Celeborn live yet," Haldir said, and Bilbo saw both of his friends sigh and relax slightly. "And we are triumphant, though perhaps we did not deserve to be."
Ori nodded, and there was a blush on his cheeks. "The siege dragged on, and the armies of Khazad-dûm and Lothlórien grew weary, and quarrels broke out between them, much as Balin and Celeborn struggled to keep the peace."
Haldir picked up the story as Ori paused. "And one day, when all were exhausted and tired of the siege and yearning for our homes, the door to Orthanc opened and Saruman came out to parley with us."
There was a long pause where neither of them spoke, but looked at each other, and there was shame on their faces. Finally, Ori said, "It grieves me to speak of this, but Saruman spoke to us with cunning words, like honey laced with secret venom. All he said seemed somehow fair and good, but he stirred up the hatred between our two groups, and fanned the spark of enmity into flame."
"Subtly he reminded us of our histories of strife, while seeming to flatter us," Haldir went on. "he spoke of the wisdom of Thingol of old, and I saw in Celeborn's eyes that he remembered then how his liege was slain by dwarves."
“And he also praised Celeborn for not betraying or abandoning his allies, as so many elves had done in the past. And these words struck Balin and indeed all of us with dark memories,” Ori said, hanging his head.
“By such blandishments and poisoned words, he turned us against each other,” Haldir said grimly. “Too late did Balin and Celeborn realize what was happening, and none saw who among the vast armies first drew weapon against the other, but soon strife broke out, and it seemed that the alliance would fail in chaos and bloodshed.”
“Yet fate and luck were with us that day,” said Ori. “For Saruman attempted to flee in the turmoil, and was caught in the crossfire. Through no strength of our own, he fell that day, pierced by a dwarvish arrow meant for an elf and an elvish arrow meant for a dwarf.”
“And so his manipulations and his cunning lead to this at last,” said Gandalf, and there was sorrow in his voice. “To die nearly-unnoticed in conflict of his own creation. He was the greatest of us, once.”
“After his fall,” said Haldir, “It was as if our eyes were suddenly unblinkered and our ears unstopped, and Balin and Celeborn were able to stop the fight from becoming a slaughter. Our armies parted not as friends, but at least not as enemies,” he said, bowing his head.
“Though some of us have become friends indeed, I like to think,” Ori observed, and Haldir smiled down at him.
“I am pleased to hear my kinsman lives and that Orthanc has fallen,” Thorin said. “We must consider what this means for--” He stood up as he spoke, and then went very pale, and his knees started to buckle.
But Bilbo was suddenly there at his side, holding him up. “Back to bed with you, Thorin,” he said sternly. “Let people who can stand up deal with the details. I’m taking care of you now.”
And indeed, Thorin soon found himself in bed once more, looking up at the ceiling--he tried to make it a glare, but he kept drifting off into a half-doze. Bilbo had disappeared after dropping him off with stern warnings not to budge, and Thorin wondered vaguely where he was. But he felt so safe and comfortable that it was hard to worry too much.
Thorin Oakenshield lay wrapped in linen, hovering between sleep and waking, and healed.
An impossibly delicious scent woke him, and he sat up with his mouth watering. “What--”
Bilbo was there, smiling at him, with a covered platter in his hands. “I couldn’t make much with the field kitchen here, but--” He whisked off the cover to reveal slices of bread covered with broiled cheese, melted and bubbling. “I found a little garlic to grind up and add too, that should stimulate your appetite.”
“I hope you brought enough for two,” said Dís’s voice from the other side of the tent.
“I brought enough for three!” Bilbo said triumphantly.
Soon enough all of them were filled with toasted cheese and well-watered wine, and Dís was asleep again almost immediately, after declaring the meal “more healing than kingsfoil.” Thorin was drifting asleep once more when he felt small hands running through his hair, still unbraided after being washed by the healers. He sighed sleepily and heard Bilbo chuckle nearby.
“Give me a second and I’ll get you braided up right again,” he said, combing out Thorin’s hair and starting to plait it with care. “So...what next?” he said after a moment.
“Mmm,” said Thorin, not really wanting to admit that he hadn’t been thinking past this moment. “Aragorn has asked us to stay to see his coronation and wedding.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“After that, I must return to Erebor, to find out the fate of the Lonely Mountains and my kin there.”
Bilbo’s hands paused on his plait. “The Lonely Mountain isn’t too far out of the way from the Shire. Would you mind if I tagged along?” he said.
Thorin felt sudden tears stinging his eyes. He reached up and captured one of Bilbo’s hands. “Having you at my side is all I want in this world,” he said.
Bilbo leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “Then you shall have it,” he said. “In this world, and in any that come after.”