For now, the hobbit was fast asleep with a patchwork blanket nestled up to his chin, a candle having been blown out long ago, and nothing but sweet dreams of breakfast or the inevitable sunshine that would poke its rays through Bag End’s windows in a few hours. Something felt off though, and at first, Bilbo didn’t stir, but as the moments ticked on, he tugged at his blanket, a new sort of chill entering the room that was unfamiliar to him.
“Why are you all the way out here by yourself?” The raven, Roac, asked with a quick tilt of his head. “You look rather glum, though if I do this,” Roac turned his head as far to the side as he could to put Thorin’s frown in a better perspective. “That’s better.”
Thorin shrugged his shoulder as if to shake the shade away, a firm scowl forming on his lips as he pulled to tug his hood over his head. The snowflakes that had gathered on his head were starting to grow a bit chilly, even for him. Plus, he was in no mood to deal with Roac’s nonsense.
“And in a foul mood to match the expression, I see,” Roac simply decided to flutter along slowly at Thorin’s side this time.
“I want to be left alone.”
“I don’t think that’s wise. A little birdie told me there was some tension back at the mountain and I wanted to check on you. I think loneliness is the last thing you need right now,” Roac lost a bit of that humored tone of his, sounding a bit more gentle like the dwarves back home. “I wish I could do more for you, but, I can simply provide you with some quiet company if that is your wish.”
“Quiet company, Roac,” Thorin reiterated firmly, shooting a glare that should have sent this shade disappearing into thin air.
