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Published:
2017-01-25
Updated:
2017-06-05
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7/9
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Winter Is Coming

Chapter 7

Notes:

I'm happy to be updating this on my new update schedule! The full schedule can be found on my profile, bu tWiC updates for the next two Mondays. We are nearly done!!!
I plan to have some oneshots ready to update once this fic is complete, so look forward to that as well.
We find the thief in this chapter!
And a lot more interesting things as well.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Bombur had never been so nervous in all his life.

He waited, with baited breath as Mith and Kefur inspected his gift as his offer of courtship.

And why would Mith be tempted by his offer? It was Mith.... She was stunning and lovely and kind and delightful and beautiful and a hundred other things a cook could never hope to touch. Even a cook who went up against a dragon.

He had rethought his gift, after the chaos with Bilbo, which had allowed him little time to make a truly perfect baked gift, he decided to tackle another aspect of his suit.

Mith was currently holding his gift in shaking fingertips. "A recipe?" Kefur questioned.

"It was my mother's. Her treasured secret until she passed it onto me. I made my own changes, and they are present in the card you bear." Bombur spoke by instinct, ears barely catching what his mouth delivered. "It is yours, Mith, to do with as you choose, as is my offer."

"Oh, Bombur, it's lovely!" Mith wrapped her arms around Bombur's neck and pressed a short kiss to his cheek. "Of course I accept!"

Both dwarves ignored Kefur's spluttering as they continued to embrace.

~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~

Bilbo's heart fell to the floor, and his hands flew to his chest in a futile attempt to catch it. "What?" he squeaked.

Thorin's blue eyes pierced his, unwavering. "Why are you starving yourself?"

Bilbo could hear... heartbreak and betrayal in Thorin's tone. But none of the rage from the last time Thorin felt Bilbo had betrayed him. Thorin's voice sounded hollow, defeated.

"Bilbo?" Thorin insisted on an answer.

A sob burst through Bilbo's lips. "Don't banish me." His voice was a whisper.

Thorin reeled back as though struck and found his lungs empty when he asked, "What?" with no air and no voice.

~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~

Balin sat in place for Thorin and for Bilbo, symbolically, as one was healing and the other was trying to get to the bottom of those concerns. Bombur and Kefur stood on either side as the culprit was brought before them. "And you have confessed?" Balin asked Jarin, son of Tarin.

The young kitchen runner nodded, miserablly. He was only thirty-five; seven by the standards of men. His father had taken ill while working in the mines, and his mother was long gone. His father hadn't reported to the collection zone, and they'd been without food. He hadn't been sure what to take, and had helped himself to what he recognized.

Balin didn't want to prosecute to the full extent of the law, nor did either of his companions.

"Why did you not tell me about your troubles, Jarin?" Bombur asked, large face folded in frowns and echoes of frowns.

Jarin rubbed his sleeve across his nose, not quite able to meet the eyes of the dwarf who gave him work and an opportunity to apprentice under him. "Da told me not to complain, when he got sick. Beacuse... beacuse I had work and... and we'd be fine for a sennight."

"And, Jarin, how long has it been since your father fell ill?" Kefur asked not unkindly.

"Near a fortnight, master lord, sir."

The three dwarrow paused. "And no Overseer came to call? No healers?" Balin inquired.

"No, sir."

A deep frown laid itself on the brow of the Master of Guilds. "Then, I find you are at no fault for theft, Jarin son of Tarin, as the large neglect falls to others." An astonished look of relief broke across the barely-bearded lad's face. "However, you failed to bring your concerns to your Master of Employment and Instruction. Therefore, I command him to pass on a punishment to you, under his own judgement, as this falls under the jurisdiction of an Apprenticeship Contract."

Bombur stepped forward with a nod. "First things, first lad. Give me your address. Then fetch a healer with this note," he gestured to Kefur who dutifully scribbled out a note of instruction, "and bring him to your home. I will meet you there with food for your father and yourself. As your Master of Employment and Instruction, I have a responsibility of care to you, and your well being."

The boy stared in adoration at the large cook. "Master Bombur, I..." He rushed forward and hugged the dwarf. "I live in the Three Coppers District, the building at the back of the Grey Hen Inn. Third door on the right!" He said before plucking the note from Kefur's hands and tearing out of the hall.

~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~

"I'm so sorry," Bilbo gasped through sobs. "I never... I never meant to doubt you, or betray your friendship! I just... It was so cold, and with the rations... I... I remembereed the Fell Winter in the shire that took my parents and... I couldn't help it. I couldn't eat. The th-thought even now makes me ill... And... I am sorry, Thorin. I am terribly sorry to have d-doubted you, without meaning to, and please- don't b-banish me. Not in Winter. I can leave in Spring, if you need me gone, b-but I-"

"BILBO! I will never cast you from Erebor ever again." Thorin looked shattered, when Bilbo finally brought his teary gaze up to survey his dear friend. "That you still fear..." Thorin's cut himself off. "It is I who owe apologies to you, Bilbo. Not the other way around. I could see you hurting, but didn't ask because I thought you would come to me when... When you felt you could. I see now how foolish it was of me to..."

"Thorin," Bilbo's voice was small, but he trudged forward. "Can I talk to you about... About it?"

Thorin stared at the hobbit as if he could not see him for a moment. And then Thorin's shoulders sagged with relief. "Tell me, anything you would like to share with me, Bilbo. Your cares are mine."

"When I was very young. There was a winter. A terrible winter. It was later named "The Fell Winter"."

~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~

"I am sorry. For not coming to you with my fears..." Bilbo added at the end of his story.

Thorin looked far different from anytime Bilbo could remember seeing him. There were tears on the king's face. "Thank you for sharing them with me, Bilbo; would... Would it help you if you had company for all your meals, and not just breakfast?" Thorin offered hesitantly.

Bilbo leaned back against his pillows once more, which were now leached of any body heat. "I'd like that."

"Good." Thorin's face still looked down, eyes on Bilbo's large feet under the blankets. "I hope I can heklp you to not feel the weight of this demon too terribly. Though I know your demons are your own to face. I would... be there, if I can, if you'll have me."

"You know you don't have to, right? I mean, it means a lot to me, and I really do want to spend more time with you..." Bilbo knew he was rambling, but he didn't want his friend to feel beholden to spend meals and extra time with him. "And it will be easier to... not think about it, when I need to eat, with good company. But, well, you're the king. That hardly leaves you plenty of time to eat with sick hobbits."

Thorin's gaze met Bilbo's with all the force of a hammer strike. "Bilbo, I will eat with you."

"I'm not fighting you on this, you stubborn dwarf," Bilbo huffed, "I'm telling you that I appreciate it but you don't have to; I know you're busy and I'm not nearly as important as mattters of state or-"

Thorin stood and roared, "You are more important than ALL of my duties, Bilbo; I love you!"

Notes:

Mic drop.

 

I've been waiting for this scene forever, and then it took four days for me to get it out. Argh, but now it's done and dusted, and please let me know what you think!