Out Of Time

Credit to fantasyinallforms

He knew it would come to this. He should rejoice. They had been successful despite all the trials up until this point. This is what he wanted. This is what he argued and fought for. His people needed a proper home again. A place to grow and prosper, not just survive. Yet now he looked at the peak of his great mountain, and deep dread filled the tunnels of his mind. Where determination and pride used to dwell sat fear. It was a creeping sensation that pulled on the rope between duty to his people and duty to his very soul. He would have to send Bilbo through the now open door to Erebor and right into the clutches of a fire-breathing dragon. What was worse is that Bilbo was willing to do it without question.

On Thorin's command, they had propped the door to the mountain open and camped in front of it. So far, his excuse for doing so had been waiting on the wizard, but it had been three days, and there was no sign of the gray pilgrim. At the end of the third day, Balin pulled him aside.

"Thorin, we need to move forward without him. The Arkenstone lies within those halls, and Azog is still out there. We don't know when or if he will make a move on the mountain."

"We just need time. A few days more." His voice didn't sound like his. It was cracked with worry, and he knew a friend as old as Balin did not miss it.

"Laddie... You knew it would come to this." Balin whispered sympathetically. He didn't know. He didn't know he would find his soul in this possibly hopeless endeavor. That it was by his hands the one thing in this world that was his and just his would be sent into such danger. Finding his One had been the chance of a lifetime. He was raised believing that his duty and craft would be all that sustained him. Now, all he wanted was to lend all of that learned talent and ability to being whatever Bilbo needed him to be. He wanted to fix the hinges to the gate of Bag End. He wanted to craft him jewelry and things to cook in. He wanted to be scolded for coming home late and make Bilbo his favorite tea with three sugars and one cream while they watched the fire burn to nothing in their fireplace. It all matters little because, at the end of the day, duty was still more important than his own hopes.

"Tomorrow morning, then," his voice conveyed none of the emotion he felt. Balin nodded.

He went to Bilbo and sat beside where he was resting, propped up against the rockface. Bilbo wasted no time getting comfortable next to him. Practically crawling into his lap so he could curl against his chest.

"So tomorrow morning then." Bilbo breathed

"You heard?"

"You all forget I have better hearing than you." Bilbo smiled at him, and love and trust were baked into those hazel eyes. It was a look he was treated to often since Beorn's when they proved to each other the depth of their love and tied together the bond they created.

"Yes, tomorrow." Thorin held Bilbo tight to him and kissed those pretty pink lips like it was the last time he would ever get to do so. He left none of Bilbo's mouth unconquered. When they parted, Bilbo stared at him, half-lidded eyes the picture of happiness. But there was a question in them, too.

"Why does the kiss we just shared feel like a goodbye?" Bilbo asked.

"It's never a goodbye. It's a promise. That no matter what the dawn brings, we will always find our way back to each other."