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"You think that's funny?" snapped Thorin, "You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?" His nephews failed to meet his piercing eyes, and hung their heads.
"We...didn't mean anything by it..." Kili mumbled as an apology.
"No, you didn't. You know nothing of the world," the dwarf king said bitterly, turning away and walking towards the edge of the rocks on which the company were perched. Fili and Kili watched, evidently regretting what they had been saying. They had been telling stories of orcs to scare their burglar, Bilbo, who was huddled near the fire, wishing he hadn't heard these stories of throat cutting and blood-shed. All he really wanted right now was to be back at home, in his nice warm bed. Balin sensed Bilbo's uneasiness, and decided to tell the story of when Thorin had faced Azog the Defiler. Perhaps not the most uplifting tale, but there was some victory at the end, even if at great costs. As he told this tale he knew like the back of his hand, Fili and Kili nodded slowly, as they listened in proud yet grim acknowledgement of their uncle. They had heard this story many times before, unlike Bilbo. The hobbit looked over at Thorin, who was still standing with his back to the company. How could one dwarf carry so much grief, so much anger and hatred? It must have been a heavy burden. As Balin's story grew to a close, Thorin turned back to face them again and rejoined the group. His expression was not one of anger, but rather of pain. His usually piercing eyes were not quite as bright as they normally were, and it was obvious he was reliving those memories in his heart again. It was a face that filled Bilbo with sadness to see. It was that face that reminded Bilbo of why they were doing this, and he inwardly kicked himself for even considering turning back.
Bilbo realised he had been staring at Thorin while he was thinking, and he looked into the fire, mumbling an apology. Thorin barely noticed, and he sat down next to Bilbo, much to the hobbit's surprise. It took a few moments for him to register the fact that the leader of the company had chosen to sit next to him of all people. Thorin sensed his surprise, and raised an eyebrow. "May I sit here, Master Burglar?" he asked, though he didn't really phrase it as a question.
"Yes, of course!" squeaked Bilbo, hugging his knees tightly under his chin. Thorin repressed a chuckle, and followed Bilbo's gaze into the fire. They sat in silence, then Thorin spoke in his usual gruff voice.
"You needn't be so nervous, Burglar."
"I am not nervous," said the hobbit, irritation creeping into his voice, "you just startled me. That, and it has been a long day. I'm tired." Thorin glanced at him with a quizzical look.
"You should get some rest, then. There will be many longer days to come. You'll be no good to us if you're fainting with exhaustion," he said in an annoyingly matter-of-fact way. Bilbo opened his mouth to retort, finding his comment rather rude, then tightly pressed his lips together and said nothing. Once again they sat in silence, the low hum of the company talking filling the air. Bilbo looked back over at Thorin, whose steady gaze had returned to the flames flickering in front of them. They cast a soft, warm glow across his face, lighting up his eyes so they were practically gleaming in the dark. Bilbo thought he looked almost mesmerising, and he found himself unable to tear his eyes away. He could see the dancing tongues of flame reflected in his eyes, which for once looked gentle. The familiar crease in his brow had lessened, and his lips were not so tightly pressed together. The dwarf's eyes flickered over to Bilbo, who immediately flinched and looked away. One corner of Thorin's mouth twitched upwards in an amused smile, or motr of a smirk, which lit up his handsome features even more. "I thought you said you weren't nervous." He spoke softly this time, in a way that Bilbo found strangely comforting.
"I'm not. My nerves are just on edge tonight. I'm not feeling like myself," he admitted. Thorin eyed him carefully, thinking.
"...So, you are nervous." There was a pause, and the hobbit sighed.
"Perhaps a little." Thorin nodded slowly, looking back at the fire. For a moment, Bilbo thought the dwarf was ignoring him now, until he heard something familiar. A deep humming. As Bilbo listened to Thorin's voice, he recognised the song he was humming. The song the company had sung while smoking their pipes, telling the story of Erebor. Bilbo listened intently. He felt oddly calm. Thorin's humming was low, gentle and soothing, his voice reminding Bilbo of some sort of dark velvet. After humming a verse, Thorin stopped, and looked at Bilbo with an expectant look on his face. It was clear that Bilbo didn't understand, and he barely repressed a sigh.
"This isn't a song my people tend to sing alone, Master Baggins," he said simply. Bilbo blinked a few times in surprise, partly at being addressed by his name, mostly at being asked to join in.
"Oh, of course. I think I remember the tune..." he nodded, smiling happily, evoking a very small, almost invisible smile from Thorin as they hummed together. Thorin found Bilbo's voice very different to the rest of the company. It was lighter, a complete contrast to his. Not that it was a bad thing - he thought the hobbit's voice was bright and full of hope, which was something they all needed right now. The two hummed together for a while, barely noticing the voices of the company dying down and the fire beginning to burn out, giving out a comforting crackling sound. Only Gandalf was awake now, who sat watching and listening with a twinkle in his eye and a knowing smile on his face...
"Bilbo?"
"Mm...?"
"Bilbo, wake up, or you're going to miss breakfast!" Bofur gently shook Bilbo, who woke up with quite a start. He looked around in confusion. When had he fallen asleep? He realised he must have drifted off somewhere in the middle of the song, as he remembered his eyelids beginning to droop. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, then paused. The warmth wrapped around him wasn't just his blanket. Bilbo looked down, and saw that a large fur coat had been wrapped around him. It definitely wasn't his. His eyes darted among the dwarves, trying to spot who was missing their coat, when it dawned on him... This was Thorin's. Bilbo's cheeks turned a light shade of pink, though he wasn't sure why. He also wasn't sure why Thorin would have bothered... or why both Gandalf and Balin looked as if they knew something he didn't. He took a deep breath, and couldn't help noticing that the coat smelt like Thorin - a warm, musky smell that he had somehow come to recognise. Bilbo shook his head, telling himself to calm down. A familiar figure knelt down beside him, and whispered softly in his hear.
"I trust the song calmed your nerves, Master Baggins?" Bilbo gasped and turned to face Thorin.
"Y-Yes! Thank you!" He nodded quickly, handing Thorin his coat. Thorin gave a soft smile that only Bilbo could see, as he went ahead to join the company.