How I Leave You

Say It Isn't So

I awake with a most odd feeling in my stomach.

Though I try to ignore it as I get out of bed, the sensation persists, tugging at my insides as though to get my attention. Stay, it tells me. Rest.

I do not listen.

Some fresh air should do me good. Yet even as the gentle morning breeze greets me in the halls of Erebor, the uneasiness remains. It seems the ailment is so deep inside me, not even a storm could calm it.

"Could you lead me to the king?" I ask the first servant I run into.

She startles, almost dropping the pot in her hands.

"The-- the king?" Composing herself, the dwarven woman almost dares to look at me. "I apologize, mistress, but I was given orders to--"

"It's alright," someone else interrupts. "I have it from here."

We both turn around at the sound of their voice.

"Bilbo?" I ask, tilting my head curiously.

"Hello," the hobbit says, briefly bowing his head, though I know this is done more out of habit than respect.

"You know where Thorin is?" I ask.

The servant girl turns away before I have a chance to thank her for her time.

Bilbo purses his lips.

"Maybe."

"You may have been a burglar once, but you always were a terrible liar."

Clearing his throat, he turns away, suspiciously making sporadic eye contact with me.

"Alright," he finally admits. "He's in a meeting."

"What about? Is it an important one?"

I'm running out of patience for these twists and turns on the way to the truth. I have a strange feeling in my gut. It tastes like foreboding.

"He gave orders not to be disturbed..."

"Well, surely that cannot include his coming bride."

I start walking as I say this, searching Bilbo's face for any signs of surprise at this. But there is nothing to be found on him. Nothing except the worry between his brows.

"You-- you don't even know where the meeting is," he tries, catching up with me.

"I will search every room for it if I must."

"But the doors will be locked."

I look down at the hobbit as he runs to keep up with my steps.

"Lucky that I have a burglar in my presence, then."

He sends me a smile that's hardly a smile at all. This amuses me more than it should have.

"I'm serious, Ilwien."

"As am I." Still, I slow my pace until we come to a halt. I cross my arms as I scrutinize him. "What are you keeping from me, hobbit?"

Bilbo begins muttering, clumsily making his way through half-hearted excuses. I'm hardly sure he even believes them himself.

"I would never keep anything from you," he eventually musters, "...for long."

I raise my eyebrows.

"Out with it."

He sighs.

"I just don't want you to get hurt."

Even if this makes me scoff, it's in a loving way. Somewhat.

"Fine," I finally sigh. "If you won't tell me, I'll figure it out myself."