Chapter Text
If there was one topic that Bilbo could strike from every conversation the company partook in on this journey, it would be the topic of racial differences.
It had gotten much better after spending some time with the dwarves, the comments became less derogatory and more teasing. But still, after a week or two of travel Bilbo would have hoped for the conversation to be laid to rest. However, it seemed that they just could not stop returning to it.
“I don't know how you hobbits would survive anywhere other than the Shire, as hairless as you are.” Bofur ribbed.
“I know, just looking at you makes me feel cold!” Kili griped from behind Bilbo, who only rolled his eyes. It was a particularly cold evening, and everyone was glad to find some measure of shelter to block out the icy wind. It was true that he was cold, but he wasn't nearly as cold as the others seemed to think, by the concerned looks he was getting.
“I assure you that I am perfectly all right. I have more than enough layers to keep myself warm.” In fact, it was only minutes after sitting to rest and pulling his blanket around himself that he began to warm up.
“That's not possible, you've barely any layers at all, and you're skinny as a rail. I have no idea how you aren't freezing to death!” Fili jumped in to defend his brother's side of the argument. Kili in turn nodded fervently.
“Well maybe,” Bilbo huffed, “Hobbits can handle the cold better than dwarves, then.” This was predictably met with a mixture of derisive laughter and offended shouts from all of those who had pretended not to be listening to the conversation.
“A hobbit, tougher than a dwarf? Dwarves are the most resilient race of Middle Earth, there is no way a soft little hobbit body can better handle the cold.” Dori remarked with a snort. Bilbo could only shrug. Either hobbits could handle cold better, or they were all being fussy mother hens because Bilbo honestly felt perfectly warm enough. Whichever it was didn't make the topic any less annoying or bothersome.
Luckily, when Bilbo wasn't willing to argue his case any further, the talking shifted instead to supplies and the journey's progress. Food was passed out, though because of the wind a fire was impossible, and thus the meal was a cold one. Kili and Fili complained further about their chilled toes and fingers, dramatically huddling closer to one another.
Though perhaps, Bilbo thought in surprise, it wasn't so dramatic. For as time went on, the other company members began to behave similarly, albeit with much less whining. Bofur pulled his hat flaps down further over his ears and pinched his fingers into his own armpits, soon shuffling over to Bombur who just lifted his blanket cover wordlessly. In the same moment, Bifur slipped into the other side of Bombur's bed roll, throwing his own blanket over the three of them and ducking under the cover.
Ori pulled on his most recent knitted creation, having already handed his brothers their own. He huddled next to Dori, and while Nori did not join them, he sat by close enough. Bilbo hadn't even noticed when Oin and Gloin had pushed their bedrolls together and spread the blankets evenly between them. They looked the least bothered by the cold, save for perhaps Bombur, but they also clearly had no qualms in creating more comfort.
Dwalin and Thorin were both clearly bothered by the cold as well, though they refused to do such a thing as snuggle for body warmth, instead huddling their shoulders and protecting their extremities as best they could. Bilbo could have sworn he saw a slight shiver in Dwalin's shoulders, and in Thorin's chest. Neither looked like they would be getting much sleep tonight, and Bilbo was truly baffled. Was it really so cold out, even with all their body hair?
Balin, who was on watch, gave them an exasperated growl when he saw them. “You two look miserable. Just pick someone to share a bed with, this is no time to be modest.” Then he glanced over at Bilbo. “You as well, master Baggins. I'm not sure how hobbit customs are, but you have the least body fat of all of us, you'd do better to swallow your pride than freeze in the night.”
Both Thorin and Dwalin offered only non-committal grunts, but Bilbo wasn't willing to leave it at that. “I'm not being prideful, mister Balin. I truly do not feel cold under these layers.”
Balin sighed, about to argue further when Thorin interrupted. “Do as Balin says, hobbit. We scarcely have enough time as it is, we do not need to be slowed down by a frostbitten hobbit.”
“And what about you?” Bilbo countered in a rare bout of defiance “You look much more cold than I, and yet you don't follow your own advice.”
“That's because I'm the leader of this company. If I say I am fine, that is for me to decide. You, on the other hand, have a tiny, weak, soft body used to the comforts of a warm home.” Bilbo bristled at that, about to retort before a thick arm cut across his midsection. Dwalin had come forward during the brief spat and pulled Bilbo into his chest.
“Your bickering is testing my patience. I'll keep the hobbit warm, and you can all shut up and go to sleep.” Before Bilbo could protest further, Dwalin pulled his blankets up and over the both of them before settling down. When Bilbo started twisting around to find a more comfortable position, Dwalin let a long sigh. “Settle down, burglar.”
Bilbo could hear an almost soothing, unfamiliar tone in Dwalin's voice. With a start, he realized Dwalin's assumption- that Bilbo was squirming because he was afraid. Guilty, he ceased his struggles and did his best to relax. After all, he had no reason to be flustered. Sure, he was pressed with his back up against Dwalin's toned stomach, a thick arm closing against his chest. But they were both fully clothed, and there was no hint of anything improper. In fact, Dwalin even still had his outer layers and cloak on, providing even more of a barrier.
Perhaps that was why Dwalin didn't notice until the next morning. It was only upon awaking that Dwalin realized that he had even nodded off in the first place. That was unexpected. It had been so bitter cold out, and even with the hobbit, Dwalin wasn't expecting to get any sleep. But he wasn't cold, he was actually quite warm. The comfortable heat of another body had seeped through the cloth barrier, until not even his toes were chilly. Dwalin had been so comfortable and warm that he hadn't even woken up at dawn, only at the quiet movements of the others around him.
Perhaps it had gotten warmer throughout the night? Dwalin eased his way out of bed, gingerly setting aside the small hobbit. Immediately icy cold air hit at him, breezing in through their shelter's wide entrance. No, it was just as bad, if not worse than last night. Dwalin wasn't an idiot, that only left one conclusion. He glanced at the hobbit, who was just in the throes of wakening, then up at Thorin who had been giving him an inquisitive look.
“Our burglar was telling the truth.” Dwalin bluntly responded to the silent enquiry, as well as to his own questions.
“What do you mean?” Thorin seemed puzzled.
“He wasn't cold at all, warm as a furnace in fact.” At that admission, Gloin came trundling back into the shelter, finishing his job as second watch. “Ah, so you mean you were the one being warmed, not the other way around?”
Dwalin didn't like Gloin's teasing tone, but also couldn't deny the truth. He nodded sharply, and turned away. As much as he didn't want to admit it, being able to sleep comfortably had done wonders. He gave their burglar a considering glance. Maybe he shouldn't spread his discovery around so much, Dwalin mused. He wouldn't mind keeping the hobbit and that wonderful heat to himself for a while longer.