Day 3- BPB Amnesia AU
Moving right along with Day 3! Feel free to comment or reblog! This is the masterlist for all the links to the plot bunnies in case you miss one. Thank you so much for reading and being a part of this celebration with me.
It Takes Forgetting to Truly Remember
Rating: G
Warning(s): N/A
Words: 1742
Summary: Bilbo Baggins swore that day on the Carrock that if he lived through the end of this adventure, he would marry Thorin Oakenshield. Waking up in Erebor a year later with no memory past that moment, while disorienting, definitely solidified for him that he did accomplish his goal. Only...why does Thorin seem stunned as well?
“I have never been so wrong in all my life.”
Bilbo gasped as he felt those warm, solid arms wrap around his frame. For a moment, he thought he must be dreaming. He had been killed by the orcs, and this was nothing but a wonderful figment of his imagination. However, he knew deep down that he couldn’t imagine the lingering scent of pine and fire and blood clinging to Thorin’s coat. He couldn’t imagine the bristly feeling of beard hair pressing against his shoulder. And never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined Thorin smiling like that at him. It was only when Bilbo was able to acknowledge that this was, in fact, real, did he return the hug.
Thorin pulled back a moment later, far too soon in his opinion as he looked Bilbo up and down before pinning him with those intense blue eyes.
“I am sorry I doubted you.”
“No.” Bilbo was quick to reassure him. “I would have doubted me too. I’m not a hero, or a warrior…or even a burglar.”
Everyone had a good chuckle at that, and it was as Bilbo’s attention turned to the eagles flying off into the distance that something else caught Thorin’s own. He watched as the dwarf stepped past him to the edge of the cliff, Bilbo scrambling to join him in amazement. The lonely mountain! It was right there. He looked up at Thorin at the same time the dwarf turned to him, fondness and awe present on his face. Bilbo could feel his insides turn to mush as his heart did a backflip. He thought he could perish from Thorin’s smiles alone.
So it was there as they gazed upon the end of their journey that Bilbo made a vow to himself. Should he live long enough to be there when the dwarves retook the mountain, he would marry the dwarf king beside him. If he denied him, then it would be a lonely trip back to the Shire for him, but at least he was not a coward and made his feelings known. And if he accepted…Bilbo beamed brightly as he gazed back onto the mountain. Their road was most likely still wrought with perils, and he would need to keep his head, but he could feel the hope ignite something inside him. This no longer became a trip to reclaim somebody else’s home, he was now fighting for his own as well.
***
Bilbo’s head was pounding something fierce as he dazedly came back to consciousness. He blinked up, confused at the smooth green stone stretching on for miles above them. He didn’t understand. Where were they? Did they find a cave to make camp in? Bilbo shifted a bit, wincing when his head gave a sharp shooting pain at the movement.
“Easy now, lad. Don’t undo all my hard work in one go.”
“Master Oin?” Bilbo murmured, moving his eyes over to where the greying healer was standing.
“Let’s take a look at you. You’ve been down for the count for about six days now.”
He had? What happened? Did Azog and the other orcs catch them? What about Thorin?
“How?” He murmured.
It was only after Oin lifted his trumpet and leaned in that he remembered the dwarf was partially deaf. Bilbo choked down the nausea as he repeated his question a bit louder.
“There was a tunnel collapse.” Oin explained. “Bit of bad luck. The ground gave out beneath you and two other dwarves excavating the area. The other lads are fine. You knocked your head on the way down and rattled your brains a bit. Wasn’t sure when you would wake up.”
Two other dwarves…he wondered who it was. And a tunnel? What was Bilbo doing in a tunnel? It didn’t make any sense. Oin lifted a glass to his lips with the order to drink even when Bilbo wanted to gag as the taste hit his tongue. Still it did help with the roaring headache.
“Are we…still on the Carrock?” Bilbo asked him once he felt like he could do so.
“Eh?” Oin held up his trumpet again. “A balrog? This isn’t Khazad-dum, lad. Wouldn’t expect any of those to be around.”
Bilbo pursed his lips, ready to correct the dwarf when a snore from on the other side of his bed caught him by surprise. Bilbo slowly turned his head only to blink. And blink again. However, there could be no doubt. Thorin Oakenshield slept at his bedside, his arms splayed out on the cot, pillowing his head.
“Can’t get him to leave.” Oin huffed. “He comes here every moment he can spare. Damn fool. It wasn't that long ago that he was injured himself.”
That was right. Thorin had been bitten by that warg and hit with Azog’s mace. However, other than an angry red scar cutting through his eyebrow, there were no marks, no bruises on his face. Bilbo was very confused now, and it certainly didn’t help with his headache in the least.
“Oin? I…I don’t understand. Where are we? What is going on?” Bilbo insisted, his voice faint.
“What was that, lad?” Oin asked loudly.
Loud enough to wake the sleeping dwarf, for better or worse. Bilbo’s breath caught as he watched Thorin blink slowly, trying to get his bearings. His eyes lazily drifted to Bilbo only to widen when he realized he was awake. Thorin was suddenly sitting up, clutching Bilbo’s hand with both his own, his hair still clinging to the corner of his mouth.
“Bilbo! I mean, Master Baggins. You’re awake. How do you feel?”
Bilbo could feel heat rising to his face as he gave the dwarf a small smile, finding his worry and his state to be oddly endearing.
“Yes, well. Could be better all things considered, but I’m sure I’m in capable hands with Master Oin here. How are you? Do your injuries still trouble you greatly?”
Thorin’s brows furrowed together as he opened his mouth before closing it again, unable to utter a single word to that. Bilbo wasn’t all that surprised. He had been terrified he had been too late in his rescue when Thorin lay unconscious in the eagle’s talons. Perhaps he just didn’t want to admit his pain out loud.
Bilbo once again roamed the room with his eyes realizing he was, in fact, in a room and not in some cave they found. Oin said he had been unconscious for six days. Did they carry him to some sort of town built into the mountain?
“I’m sorry for holding us up. I know you would probably prefer if we were back on the road at this point. I’m sure now that I’m awake, I’ll be right as rain soon. Tell me, how does the rest of the Company fare? I don’t even remember if any of the rest of them were injured now that I think about it, but Oin said there were two who fell with me? Certainly not Fili and Kili I would hope!”
The pinch between Thorin’s eyebrows became more pronounced the longer Bilbo talked. Slowly he shook his head.
“No, it was not Fili and Kili. It was Rugar and Halik.”
It was Bilbo’s turn to look alarmed now. “I’m sorry, it was who?!”
Bilbo didn’t know any Rugar or Halik. At least, he didn’t think he did. Oh dear! What if there were two dwarves traveling with them, and Bilbo had completely missed catching their names? How terribly awkward! No, no, that didn’t make any sense. Bilbo has certainly met all the dwarves at this point unless…He looked around once more at his surroundings, a chuckle of relief on his lips.
“Oh! I see. This is a dwarven settlement then. Yes, very good. I’m not quite sure why I was investigating with two unknown dwarves, but that is neither here nor there. Incredibly lucky we found the place given the state of our supplies or lack there of. What is the name of this settlement?”
Thorin’s expression was perfectly blank when he answered.
“Erebor.”
Bilbo smiled and nodded his head when it dawned on him what Thorin said.
“WE’RE IN BLOODY EREBOR?!”
Thorin was like stone in the wake of Bilbo’s declaration, his brows still furrowed and lips turned down, but Oin jumped like a warg was on his tail. Bilbo clutched his head in pain, immediately regretting the outburst as Oin stomped back over to them.
“What in the world…?”
“Bilbo doesn’t remember coming to Erebor.” Thorin concluded before Bilbo could tell him himself.
Oin blinked in surprise before turning back to Bilbo with an assessing look.
“Is that true, laddie?”
Bilbo nodded.
“So what is the last thing you remember?”
Bilbo knew his cheeks must be flushed as he tried to avoid looking at Thorin. Only perhaps the most magical moment of his life, that’s what he remembered. A hug that made Bilbo dream of something more than friendship as the eagles that bore them danced in the sky.
“Well…we had just reached the Carrock.” Bilbo answered.
Both dwarves stared at him. Neither saying a word.
“I’m guessing that was a little while ago.” Bilbo remarked weakly.
“A little…” Thorin gasped. “Master Baggins, it has been almost a year’s time since we reclaimed this mountain.”
Bilbo could feel spots dancing before his eyes. Faint. He was feeling a bit faint. Bilbo slouched a bit before realizing what he was feeling was not faint. Oin was at least quick to read the signs as he thrust a bedpan under his nose before he puked his guts up. Not that there was much there. Mostly bile, but still rather embarrassing to do in front of Thorin. Thorin, who still looked pained, as he absorbed what Bilbo had said. Thorin who…
Bilbo felt something squeeze at his chest, numbing him almost immediately. A year! He’s been here for almost a year. That could only mean one thing. Bilbo shyly looked up at Thorin through his lashes, admiring how much the king had changed in a year. His beard was longer, his clothes were cleaner and of higher quality, and he wore additional braids in his hair. Didn’t Gloin tell him that dwarves wore new braids when they got married? He swore he remembered that story as he was discussing his wife and pointing to his beard. That could only mean one thing then. Bilbo did it. He actually married Thorin Oakenshield.
