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The dwarven king sighs, but not unhappily. He simply lets go of the long day’s stress and allows the simple bliss of the night to flow through him. Thorin now lies in his large bed. Huge fur blankets surround him in warmth, and there is a small fire burning on the opposite side of the room. In his arms he holds a small creature. A beautiful hobbit from the Shire. He smiles as he looks down and notices how peacefully Bilbo sleeps. Lovingly and gently, he removes a brown curl from the other's face running a finger down his cheek. The hobbit smiles in his sleep and snuggles closer to Thorin's chest.
“How lucky am I to have you?” he whispers.
The fire shines a gentle light on Bilbo, as if the whole room knows he is the center of all things for the King Under the Mountain. Thorin breathes slowly and his heartbeat seems to match his lover’s in an instant. He caresses the hobbit’s side until he moves to place his hand over the other's. His eyes meet a small silver band delicately laced on Bilbo’s ring finger. He already knows the ring matches his own, but every time he sees it he says a silent prayer to Mahal. As every day is a blessing so long as his husband is by his side.
A tiny smile plays on his lips before he leans forwards, placing a small kiss into the brown curls he adores so much. He settles back down, melting into his pillow. He stares at the hobbit once more before closing his eyes.
And just before sleep overtook him, he hugged Bilbo tighter and murmured, “I love you.”