Dearest Bilbo

Chapter Nine

Did you hear?"

His brother had the annoying habit of bursting into his office with the most deplorable news. Balin wasn't in the mood today to listen to anything that wasn't uplifting or pleasing. He had enough problems to take care of! Rats had gotten into the grain stores and one of the mine shafts had recently collapsed. No one had been injured, but problems such as that only put their reconstruction efforts behind schedule.

"He found Nori."

The quill in Balin's hand hovered above his desk and his gaze drifted up to meet Dwalin's. "This cannot be good."

"No, it is not," his brother confirmed, dropping tiredly onto a stool nearby. "Thorin is demanding a hearing to question his motives in front of a jury."

Balin's mouth widened with surprise. "Surely, you jest! A King's Jury hasn't been requested since the time of Thror!"

"I wish I was. You do realize we must speak up. There will be no better time."

Balin dropped his pen onto the desk and rubbed his face wearily. "Aye, you're correct. We should do so immediately. I will not have the lad paying a price he does not owe. This is all on our heads, not Nori's. When is the testimony to occur?"

"This afternoon," Dwalin replied. "After midday."

Balin had counted on Nori's talents and skills to remain hidden at least until some word had come from Bilbo, but no further correspondence from the Shire had been delivered to the mountain – not since they had sent out the King's personal letters.

He should've counted on such a calamity, and yet Balin had hoped for the best. This was more of his fault than anyone's.

"I will speak to His Majesty myself. I am more capable than most to pacify his rage."

"You don't want to do this alone. Trust me," his brother replied adamantly. "I am the protector of this realm, I will accompany you. I insist."

Balin smiled warily. "Aye, thank ye brother. Let us go at once."

Their intentions were honorable. It was time to speak up, to clear Nori's name, and secure his freedom. Yet, once again, their plans went astray. Until the hearing took place, guards had been posted outside of Thorin's personal chambers and he was refusing to speak to anyone.

The situation was far worse than they'd thought and it was beginning to look like that only a miracle was going to save Nori's hide.

Bilbo glanced around his home, satisfied with his work. In a single day, he had managed to scrub all the floors, store all his dishes and lock up his silverware. He had given away most of his food – what he hadn't packed in his knapsack, of course, covered all of his furniture, and had even had time to visit the Thain.

Formal documents were drawn up and Bilbo had only hesitated a fraction of a second before applying his signature – which officially declared he was abandoning his home in the Shire. Without regret, without a second thought – all because of that final letter.

He had finished reading them all in two days with very little sleep and hardly enough to eat. In the end, he'd come to one conclusion: He belonged with Thorin in Erebor.

Perhaps this time apart was what he needed to realize his true feelings, although, truth be known, it was the confessions in Thorin's own handwriting that had convinced him, especially the ones in that last letter. Bilbo had no idea the dwarven king was even capable of expressing such feelings! Thorin always seemed so stoic and resistant to forming any sort of emotional attachment, other than that to his kin and his home, of course.