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So it's all over and Bilbo is standing
next to his pony, ready to go home, and
he's said goodbye to everyone.
Thorin would be the last.
And it would be all awkward, and Bilbo's
not sure where to put his hands.
Pockets, no, cross arms over chest, no.
And in the end all, "Well....goodbye, then."
And finally, just as he's turning away, Thorin says, low, "Do not go."
~~*~~
Bilbo hesitated, not even sure he had heard him right. "I'm sorry?"
"Do not go," Thorin said, louder. "Do not leave. You cannot expect me to stand here and watch you leave us."
Bilbo blinked, shifting on his feet, "I...well...that's a very sweet sentiment, I'm sure, but I do need to be going home. If I wait much longer...the...weather.." He faltered as Thorin's expression hardened, turned scathing, and he could only stare in wordless astonishment as Thorin took his hands up in a firm grip and held them.
"I hear your words. I heard you say them a week ago when you planned for this. You mean to leave us and return to your books and your chair," That fierce glare softened, sobered into weariness. "You mean to leave me."
"But...that isn't," Bilbo spluttered and he looked to Gandalf helplessly, only to find the old wizard watching this entire display with interest. As were the entire Company of Dwarves behind Thorin and Bilbo felt a hot flush climb his neck to bloom in his cheeks. "I'm not meaning to leave anyone! It's not about that at all."
"Then stay," Thorin said urgently. "Stay here in Erebor. If you must have your things, they can be brought here." His hands tightened briefly, squeezing Bilbo's fingers. "I will bring anything you wish to the mountain, if you would stay within it."
"Thorin--" Bilbo shook his head, trying to make sense of all this. Only to see the burgeoning hope in his face fall, despair of the like Bilbo never wanted to see tinting his eyes. To his horror, Thorin let his hands fall away and before all he fell to his knees, staring up at Bilbo with weary eyes.
"Go, then," Thorin said, tonelessly. "And may gentle roads guide you."
Behind Thorin stood twelve Dwarves and not a one of them looked the slightest bit surprised, only varying shades of misery and pity, though Dwalin stirred that pot by adding a glower to the mix. And a wizard, of course, who only raised an eyebrow to Bilbo and almost, Bilbo could hear Gandalf's thoughts. He'd promised that Bilbo would not be the same after his adventure and certainly that was a promise made good. He was not the same, not at all, and the comfortable chair he'd thought of so longingly seemed terribly far away.
"Oh, for pity's sake," Bilbo huffed aloud, "Must you Dwarves always have such a flare for the dramatic?" With trembling hands, he took Thorin's face in his hands and the widening of his eyes, the sudden surge of hope within them gave him courage enough to duck his head and press his mouth to Thorin's.
Unlike any kiss he'd had before, the scrape of beard unfamiliar and Thorin's lips were harder than a Hobbits, thin and chapped, and not terrible comfortable. Until they softened beneath his own, lips parting, and the tentative brush of his tongue was the sweetest of invitations, imploring Bilbo to explore the softness of his mouth, the edge of his teeth.
Dimly, he heard the rise of a cheer and then words, Dori, he thought, loudly shooing the others away and slowly the sound of heavy boots faded, leaving them alone with the sound of their breathing, of their mouths meeting in kiss after kiss.
When Bilbo would have drawn away, dragging in a ragged breath, Thorin only snatched hold of his shirt and held him in so that Bilbo was forced to rest his forehead against Thorin's, eyes crossing as he looked down on him.
"You needn't keep such a hold on me, you've made your point," Bilbo panted, though he couldn't resist dropping a tiny kiss on the tip of Thorin's nose, watching his mouth curve into a scowl.
"Have I?" Thorin said and his grip did not loosen a whit.
"You did," Bilbo assured him, "And with your normal skill in speechmaking I might add. I'll stay."
"You'll stay? Thorin repeated and his tug on Bilbo's shirt grew insistent, tugging him down until he settled, blushing, into Thorin's lap. Which seemed to be very much his intention and Thorin did not seem to care that they were in one of the main hallways with a pony standing patiently behind them and loud words and laughter carrying in from the next room. His attention was on nuzzling damp kisses beneath Bilbo's ear, breathing hotly until Bilbo shivered.
"Yes, yes!" Bilbo snapped, his voice breaking on a gasp. "But do I have to stay exactly here? I should think with a mountain this size, there is someplace else we might discuss this."
"Aye," Thorin murmured against his throat and Bilbo couldn't help a whimper, the softest edge of teeth grazing against him. "Let's discuss this elsewhere."
~~*~~