Dearest Bilbo

Chapter Fifteen

Regrets were something Thorin was very familiar with. He regretted not being able to protect his grandfather Thror from Azog's blade during the battle of Azanulbizar, he regretted having succumbed to the madness of his line after retaking Erebor. His inability to combat that particular illness resulted in profound regret when he attempted to throw Bilbo off the battlements. The memory of that sin was cloudy to this day as if he had merely been an observer instead of an actual participant in the crime.

His biggest regret, however, was not opening up to Bilbo and sharing his feelings and asking him to stay with him in Erebor instead of allowing the hobbit to flee back to his home.

A King held a position of great authority and should be courageous in battle as well as in leadership. He should never reveal weakness nor have the tendency to agonize over every decision.

This ruse – these theatrics he and Bilbo had decided to display was already causing problems. Although enthusiastic about the idea for the simple fact the brothers of Fundin would perhaps for once get a taste of their own medicine, Thorin had been awake all night wondering if it was even going to work. His worry was compounded by the fact that Bilbo hadn't returned to his chambers as he said he would.

It wasn't like he could go looking for him. They were supposed to hate each other, after all. So, he ended up pacing the night away in the privacy of his own rooms, pondering, wondering, and worrying, so that by the time morning came and Balin knocked on his door, he was in a bit of a mood. Rightfully so after an entire night filled with anxious thoughts.

"On the agenda today, Your Majesty, is a meeting with the Mining Guild to discuss the reopening of the mine on level seven. After that, we'll need to go over the most recent supply inventory I've completed. We were running dangerously low on a few items, until Bilbo's arrival and generous donations which have helped tremendously to..."

Thorin was doing his best to disguise his worry and exhaustion, but at the mention of Bilbo's name, his mask must've slipped a little, because Balin suddenly looked more than a little concerned.

"What is it, laddie?"

He practically growled at Balin's act of innocence in the matter. His advisor knew damn well what was wrong, and he didn't mince words in telling him so. Thorin didn't experience as much pleasure as he'd imagined when he witnessed Balin's face crumpled in shame.

"I'm so sorry, Thorin," Balin told him in a timid manner. "If I would've known what was going to transpire, I would've never meddled."

"Balin." A long sigh of exasperated relief was expelled. "I know you meant well, but you went too far this time. I would appreciate it if you'd stay out of my personal affairs from now on."

"Of course, of course. That I will do, lad, I assure ye."

Balin nodded his white head. His eyes were kind and Thorin had no choice but to believe him. He could only hope that his advisor was being truthful this time.

"Again, my apologies, Your Majesty. I am truly ashamed of my actions. I had hoped for the best, but it seems as if some things cannot be so easily forgiven."

Thorin couldn't pretend to not understand what Balin was referring to. The confrontation on the battlements where Bilbo had nearly died by his hands was something that would haunt him for the rest of his days. Actually, he didn't appreciate being reminded of it.

"Tell the guild we will re-convene tomorrow. I'm not in the mood to listen to their bickering."

"But, Your Majesty..."

"Is not my word good enough for you? Do my opinions and decisions not matter at all?"

His reproach had come out a little more stern than he'd intended, although it did match his current mood rather well.