The Light that Wakes [Bagginshield]

A Time to Come

Bilbo and Thorin had a pleasant lunch together, with no lack of delicious food, or conversation. But when it was all said and done, Bilbo started wondering if perhaps there wouldn't be times when they would be lacking in topics for conversation, now that Thorin was feeling better and he would obviously be awake for a greater part of the day. The thought swirled in his mind like a twist of wind that cleared away all connections with the quiet world, where no storms raged and everything was in its place.

"Bilbo?"

A voice came through to him in the storm, clear and strong, stronger than the wind.

"Yes," he said, a little startled. He looked into Thorin's eyes. They were just as clear as his voice had been, clear as the Shire sky on a young summer morning, and the same light shone in them. Suddenly, there was no more storm.

"Is there something the matter?"

"No, no, nothing... Well, I should take this back," he said, indicating the remainders of a well-enjoyed meal that lay on the table between them.

"You can ask Bombur, or Dori," said Thorin.

"No, no, it's fine. I can do it. They've cleared enough tables for one day."

Thorin smiled at him in his characteristic concealed fashion. His smiles always had something hidden under their surface. It had been one of the things that had shaken Bilbo out of his comfort the first time he had met Thorin in his home in the Shire. Bilbo himself was no stranger to multiple meanings hidden under words, but most of the people he met around the Shire were simple folk that lived their uncomplicated lives out in the open. He was unused to eyes and faces that shared a likeness to the deep lakes of the mountains, rippling only slightly on the surface, but harbouring vast currents underneath.

Bilbo smiled back as he gathered the empty plates. "So, what shall we do today? I could read something to you, but I don't think there's any book around here that I can actually read."

Thorin's smile widened, and with it the lake of meanings under it. "I need to have a talk with... everyone, today," said Thorin, his tone gaining a weighty note of responsibility that had become very familiar to Bilbo. "Taking Erebor back was only part of the problem, the only part I seriously thought about, to be honest."

And he was honest. Bilbo could see a thread of light streaking deep into his thoughts and illuminating them briefly, at least the part of them that held worry for the year ahead.

"You mean making this into a place to live again," said Bilbo.

Thorin nodded.

"Well, it's not so bad now."

"It is not a place to live a lifetime, and more," said Thorin.

Bilbo understood that he didn't just mean the year ahead. He meant all the years to come in Erebor, for himself, his people there and in the Blue Mountains, and those who hadn't yet been born. They all needed Erebor to be a home again, a place they could live in and thrive.

"No, I suppose not," said Bilbo.

Thorin recovered his smile, but it didn't carry back much of its unspoken mystery. "I hope there is a time when you can read to me to fill our days, but that time is not now."

Bilbo could not stop himself from blushing a hot shade of red. He preferred not to think of everything that lay not very deeply beneath Thorin's words. It was enough to concentrate on his self-appointed task of clearing the table and on the fact that there was plenty for both of them to do in the near future.