Don’t leave me here alone.
i know that’s how you must honour him, but to me, he was never that. he was… to me… he was—
When Aragorn tells Boromir to “lie still” as his voice breaks, and then as they’re talking moves to tend Boromir’s wound because he still thinks he can save him, but Boromir tells him “leave it” because he knows it’s hopeless
When Eowyn tells Theoden “I’m going to save you” but Theoden responds “You already did… Eowyn, my body is broken. You have to let me go” because he knows it’s hopeless
When Bilbo tells Thorin “you’re not going anywhere, you’re going to live” and Thorin knows he won’t and uses his last words to apologize, because he knows it’s hopeless
HANDS TOO SMALL TO HOLD IT (Bilbo and Thorin survive: all is not forgiven)
“If this is victory, then our hands are too small to hold it.”
— J.R.R. Tolkien
In the end, he leaves you.
There are nights spent, of course, where they tried to play at what they were before. Sharing a bed, but rarely sleeping. Thorin stares at the ceiling; Bilbo stays at the desk composing something. Elegies, he says. For whom he does not say.
(When Bilbo does sleep, he nightmares of hanging from the ramparts above the vast, starless dark of the mountain. Sometimes Thorin reaches for him, attempts to rouse him: Bilbo always flinches awake and bats him away, almost snarling.)
The morning comes. He takes Sting, and a small chest of gold: but refuses the mithril. I am glad to have shared in your perils, Bilbo tells him at the gate, his speech halted, careful. (He does not add and in your heart. He is not glad for that, after all) Though I regret it must end bitterly.
And he turns. Leaves. The love he had for Thorin is buried in winter, nearly a year after the quest began. For a long time, Thorin stands at the gates. He does not feel the cold.
(He leaves you. Doesn’t everyone, in the end?)
Holy water cannot help you now, thousand a r m i e s couldn’t keep me out. I don’t want your m o n e y, I don’t want your c r o w n. See I’ve come to burn your k i n g d o m down. Holy water cannot help you now. See I’ve come to burn your k i n g d o m down and no rivers and no lakes can put the f i r e out. I’m gonna raise the stakes, I’m gonna s m o k e you out. And now all your l o v e will be exorcised and we will find your s a i n t s to be canonized. And it’s an even song. It’s a melody, it’s a b a t t l e c r y, it’s a symphony. They can keep me out, until I tear the walls, until I save your h e a r t and take your s o u l. For what has been done cannot be undone. In the evil’s h e a r t. In the evil’s s o u l.
Thorin son of Thrain, son of Thror… King under the Mountain.