The Light that Wakes [Bagginshield]

Heart of the Mountain

When Bilbo woke, it was to the same white light that had greeted him the previous morning. But today there was more: Thorin's shoulder, warm against his forehead, and his soft breathing. Bilbo opened his eyes and raised his head to look at him. Thorin was still sound asleep, looking peaceful beyond anything that the hobbit had seen in him before. Bilbo couldn't help smiling, to himself, for the time being at the snowy highlights in Thorin's beard that shone in the new sunlight like threads of silver.

Bilbo was glad that Thorin was not awake. He could simply lie there and look at him and think about how endless this moment felt and how impossible to put in words, even for him who usually knew how to turn a phrase. But there would have been too much to say, and only the heart could live all those things all at once. There was the moment itself, the start of a new year for Hobbits, and the beginning of a more hopeful age for the Dwarves of Erebor. There was the place he was in, so different and removed from the simple, cosy homes of the Shire, and yet so welcoming and full of life. And then there was the person that he lay next to, still looking frail and tired, but carrying on his shoulders that whole world that they were in. In a way, Bilbo thought, Thorin was the Heart of the Mountain, not the Arkenstone that he and his grandfather had loved so much. And Thorin was beginning to realise that.

Bilbo propped himself up on his elbows, shifting his gaze to the beautiful wave of light that came through the window all the way down inside the mountain. There was one last thing that held his thoughts that morning: the kiss that he and Thorin had shared the previous night and that had changed everything between them. That kiss was a beginning in itself, of a new adventure in Bilbo's life that was unplanned for, like all adventures, but that, unlike others he'd taken part in, had no foreseeable end. He looked back at Thorin. He truly did not know what to expect and when, but for a strange first time in his 50 something years of life, it did not truly scare him. He knew that Thorin had his own new adventures ahead of him, to recover from his wounds and to take back his place as King, and he wanted to share in those adventures for as long as he would be able to. Of course, there was one particular new journey that was only their own and that Bilbo could no longer deny that he wanted to be part of.

He leaned over Thorin and kissed his sleeping lips again. Even weak as he was, it was enough to wake the Dwarf King. He smiled softly against Bilbo's mouth and opened his eyes. As they parted, the look in Thorin's eyes made Bilbo's face heat up without warning. He wanted to hide it. He didn't know why it kept happening, but it was very uncomfortable. Thorin kept smiling at him, undoubtedly reading everything that troubled him, then raised his good right hand to his face. His caress was filled with the promise of patience for all the things that were new and unnerving to Bilbo. It dimmed the fire in the hobbit's face. He allowed his head to drop on Thorin's chest without actually leaning on him. He no longer wanted to hide his embarrassment, but he needed the comfort of that closeness. The way Thorin's fingers curled gentle in his hair made him feel safe even if he was still embarrassed.

"It's going to take me a while to get used to this," said Bilbo.

"We have time," said Thorin, his voice as tender as his touch.

Bilbo raised his eyes to him again and smiled. "I suppose we do now."

Thorin nodded, but then an expression of pain flashed on his face.

Bilbo knew it was not his soul that hurt. "Do you want me to help you sit up a bit?" he asked.

Thorin approved, so Bilbo provided whatever support he could to make up for Thorin's lack of strength in his left arm, then fluffed up his pillows behind him.

"Shall I go look for Dwalin?" asked Bilbo as Thorin sat back.

"I wonder if he is up," said Thorin with a little smirk.