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Now that Thorin was almost fully healed and recovered, able to walk again, and allowed to eat more than just soup, he was ready to take on his duties as King Under the Mountain.
And his first, most important order of business was to make sure Bilbo was kept warm. Ever since Bilbo caught a cold in Laketown, his adorable button nose had been slightly tinged red and upon close inspection, the skin there was dry and flaking away. He seemed to have the shivers all the time as well, no matter how many layers he was wearing, and Thorin was concerned Bilbo’s hardy hobbit feet may even be too cold.
Bilbo was used to spending winters in that cozy hobbit hole of his, curled up on his armchair by a toasty fireplace wrapped in a quilt, with a cup of tea and a book. The image filled Thorin with contentment and warmth, but it soon turned to sadness and guilt, because it was his fault that Bilbo was ripped away from that comfort.
Thorin would make sure Bilbo could have all those things here in Erebor this winter, and beyond, and perhaps Bilbo would not need to return back to the Shire after all.
After spending 6 months in Bilbo’s company, and then the past 2 months recovering from his injuries with Bilbo hardly ever leaving his side, the thought of not having him around made Thorin’s stomach feel hollow and his throat all knotted up. The thought of having to rule Erebor and attend gruelling meetings and make agonizing decisions without Bilbo to confide in for advice or just sit and talk with about anything had become unbearable.
The thought of life without Bilbo had become unbearable. And Thorin did not know how this had happened, when it had happened, all he knew was that his heart was telling him loud and clear that he was in love with Bilbo Baggins and there was no going back.
Now, to business. The mountain was bustling still, with dwarves from the Iron Hills already working on cleaning and reconstruction, the people of Laketown taking refuge for the winter, and the dispatch of Elves that Captain Tauriel had organized to bring more food and supplies from Mirkwood and help tend to the hundreds of the sick and wounded. Thorin had had nothing to do with that part; Bilbo and Kili were in charge of that alliance, of course.
Balin had been a saint throughout all of this, not surprisingly, as he had somehow come out of the battle unscathed and only a little sore in the arm and shoulders from taking wargs out with that dwarven war chariot crossbow. The old bastard. He had appointed Bilbo as Thorin’s principal caretaker and the one who’d make sure he wouldn’t try to leave his bed or work himself too hard; and Bilbo was very good at making sure of this.
Now Thorin and Balin were meeting in Thorin’s quarters to discuss some serious business, while the roaring fire kept them warm, and Thorin couldn’t help but wonder where Bilbo was and whether he was near a fireplace as well.
“Bombur and his team have decided they want to prepare a celebratory feast, now that they feel they’ve got enough supplies,” Balin was explaining, peering down at his notes. “Of course, we need your permission first, so what do you think, Laddie? I’m not too keen on the idea, as there will be many opportunities for a more extravagant feast in the future and we shouldn’t get too comfortable now, but it’s your decision ultimately.”
Thorin had only heard the last part of what Balin said, as he had been too distracted by his thoughts about Bilbo’s comfort. Of course his mind just had to drift off before Balin was asking a question. Something about an extravagant feast? That would make Bilbo happy, surely.
“Hm, indeed,” Thorin grunted, stroking his beard. “A feast would certainly bring some much needed cheer. I believe Bilbo could provide some valuable input, as he’s very eager to show off some of his culinary skills.”
Balin cleared his throat, something he did when he was slightly annoyed and trying his best not to show it. “Well, like I said, Bombur and his team will be in charge of it as they have already gotten very comfortable in the kitchens. It would be easy enough to get Bilbo involved. But my main concern is whether we should be letting them use so many supplies to provide a feast for everyone in the mountain, when we were in danger of being stretched thin on food supplies only a month ago.”
“Ah, I see,” Thorin said, pretending to contemplate Balin’s words. “No, I believe a feast will be a good idea. Bombur is very rational, I don’t believe he would propose the idea without being certain we have the supplies.”
“So be it.” Balin adjusted his glasses and scribbled something in his notes. “Now, this will likely take place in one week’s time. You should prepare an uplifting speech as well.”
“Not a problem. Bilbo can help me edit my speech,” Thorin said.
Balin mumbled something under his breath, then made a checkmark in his notes. “Sure, just make sure the speech is prepared, doesn’t matter how you go about preparing it.”
Thorin nodded, trying not to smile at the thought of him and Bilbo sitting together while Bilbo read the words Thorin had written, editing them in his lovely handwriting, biting his lower lip gently in concentration…
“That reminds me,” Thorin said. “I want to ensure that Bilbo is comfortable during this winter season. He is not used to spending winter in a mountain, and Erebor is not at its full potential. It is the least we can do for our burglar, making him feel at home. He needs his own quarters, with a large fireplace and comfortable furniture, and many quilts. And I’d like to make sure he has his own personal shelf for books, so he isn’t always having to stay in the old library, it’s far too dark and cold in there right now, and I worry about the stone floors being uncomfortable for his feet.”
“Oh, for Durin’s sake,” Balin sighed, removing his glasses aggressively. “Will you just properly court the lad already?”
Thorin’s cheeks immediately began to burn. “I was not — I am only trying to make amends for everything I did, Balin, it’s nothing more than that.”
Balin just stared at him with an exhausted and aged look on his face. “Thorin, I have been sitting here with you for precisely one hour, and I’ve witnessed you being unfocused and unsettled the entire time and bringing up Master Bilbo every chance you get. Everyone knows you and him fancy each other, so I’d suggest doing something about it before we all go mad. Especially me.”
“I only want him to be warm,” Thorin said, his voice rising much louder than he intended.
“Well then go snuggle with him, I’m sure he’d enjoy that,” Balin huffed, getting to his feet. He placed a hand on Thorin’s shoulder. “Bilbo would be very good for you, and you for him. I was glad to see you become friends on the journey, but while he looked after you, I could see an undeniable attachment. And I can assure you, I’m not the only one who saw it. So please do something about it before Bilbo goes back home in the spring.”
Thorin only sat and contemplated that, giving Balin a nod before he departed. Well, now that the daily meeting was over, Thorin was free to go find Bilbo, but after Balin had said all of that nonsense about an ‘undeniable attachment’ between them, he was almost afraid to. It was agonizing, unbearable, painful, to think about his love for Bilbo and how it was not and would never be returned, but the thought of Bilbo feeling the same way about him was absolutely terrifying.
“Get it together, Oakenshield,” Thorin grumbled to himself. He got to his feet, straightened and smoothed his robes, and checked his appearance in the mirror.
Bilbo needed to be warm, and it was his duty to ensure it. No one else seemed to be concerned for the hobbit’s toes as he was. It had nothing to do with courting or romance, not at all. He grabbed the thick quilt and furs from his bed and marched out of his quarters in search of the elusive Master Burglar.
The first place he searched was the infirmary. Bilbo had continued to keep himself busy there even after Thorin was discharged. He had made himself very useful, and was very well-liked by all the Elven healers there. Thorin would always feel a twinge of jealousy when he had seen Bilbo laughing and practicing his Elvish with them. He wanted to teach him Khuzdul, in secret of course, as it was supposed to be a secret language, and Balin would have a fit if he found out. But Bilbo deserved to know it. Perhaps Balin would be okay with it in the future.
Everyone Thorin passed in the halls would do a double take and then stop to bow. When he reached the infirmary, all eyes were on him, but he was too busy scanning the room in search of the only hobbit in the mountain to care.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the Elves pointing at him, and he quickly turned to scowl. An automatic response that Bilbo had pointed out and reprimanded him for numerous times.
Turned out the Elf was notifying Oin of Thorin’s presence, and Oin hobbled over to him, readying his ear trumpet.
“Morning, Thorin,” he said slowly, eyeing the blankets. “Have you come to offer more bedding for the sick? Very generous of you, but we’re already well-stocked.”
“Ah, good. Very good.” Thorin said softly, and continued to scan the room.
Oin cleared his throat. “Master Bilbo isn’t working here today. I told him to take a rest. He’s been looking rather pale lately.”
“Has he?” Thorin breathed, his braids swinging as his head snapped to look Oin in the eyes. “Is he alright? Have you provided him with the proper medicine? Is he staying in his quarters today?”
“He’s fine, no fever or other dangerous symptoms, I already checked of course. I believe he just needs some rest,” Oin said, sounding rather offended.
“Well, I believe he may still be suffering from winter’s chill. Which is why I’m looking for him, to bring him these blankets.”
Oin snorted and tried to cover it up with a cough. “Ah, I see. Well, I'm sure you can find Master Bilbo in his quarters.”
“I will head there straight away. Thank you, Oin,” Thorin said with a regal nod, and hurried off to Bilbo’s room.
He still wanted to move Bilbo to one of the finer rooms, but for now he was staying in the guest quarters along with many of the dwarves from the Company. Perhaps he could finally convince him to move today.
When Thorin reached Bilbo’s door, he knocked several times without any response. Perhaps he was just fast asleep? Would it be rude to enter and lay the blankets over him?
Just as Thorin discovered that the door was locked, he heard approaching footsteps and whirled around to see Bifur and Bofur.
“Yer boyfriend’s not home,” Bofur called.
“My what?” Thorin grunted.
“He’s in the kitchens,” Bofur said nonchalantly. “Havin’ a late breakfast.”
“Did he look well?”
Bofur looked at Bifur and they shrugged. “Seemed well, maybe a little pale. Sniffly. I think he was in a good mood, though.”
“Sniffly?” Thorin gasped. “I must find him. Quickly.”
Bifur signed something crude to Bofur in Iglishmek which Thorin decided to ignore before he swiftly strode away toward the kitchens. Durin’s Beard, was it ever hard to find a hobbit in this damned mountain. Thorin wondered, with a tinge of heartbreak, if Bilbo was hiding from him on purpose. Avoiding him. Perhaps he should just—
“Thorin?”
“Bilbo!”
Thorin almost dropped all of his blankets. He collected himself and beamed at the hobbit. Bilbo was looking up at him with wide eyes, a crooked smile and cocked eyebrow.
“What’s all that you’ve got there?” He chuckled.
“Well, actually,” Thorin grunted, clearing his throat and kicking himself inside for feeling so embarrassed suddenly. “I’ve been worrying about your state during these cold winter days. I know Erebor may not be as well heated as a hobbit may need, and I know you caught a cold back in Laketown before, so I just wanted to ensure that—”
Bilbo held up a hand and shook his head. “Thorin! Thorin, you shouldn’t be concerned about me. I’ll manage. Don’t you have a lot of other important duties to attend to? I should be the least of your worries.”
“But your nose is very red, and I’ve heard reports that you are looking pale and not feeling well,” Thorin said. “Do you mind if I bring these to your room?”
“Oh, Thorin...well, I suppose that’s very sweet of you. But truly, you should not trouble yourself with—”
“Bilbo, I insist,” Thorin said, and nodded toward the direction of Bilbo’s door. “I will only disturb your day for a moment.”
“Disturb my—I’m quite happy to see you, Thorin, I’m merely just—oh, alright. If you insist.”
Bilbo wasn’t looking pale like the others described. His cheeks were quite red, actually. Perhaps that was a bad sign as well, maybe a sign of a fever. Thorin waited for Bilbo to unlock his door, and he followed him inside. He had never seen Bilbo’s room before.
“I can take the blankets from here, if you want. And you can attend to your other duties,” Bilbo said, holding out his arms.
Thorin shook his head, marching forward. “I will lay them out properly and start a fire for you.”
“I—” Bilbo squeaked. “Alright, but well, my bed is not made, and I haven’t had time to tidy things up in here.”
The room was rather small; a single room, with an extension to a washroom. There was only a double bed, with only two pillows and one quilt. A small fireplace, a stone chair with furs laid over it, and Bilbo’s various collected items, gifts, and books strewn about. Thorin went straight to the bed and began neating it up.
“That’s hardly necessary, Thorin,” Bilbo said, hurrying over to attempt to stop him.
“Only one quilt for our burglar.” Thorin shook his head in disbelief. “And that stone chair…”
He must absolutely hate it here.
Bilbo pattered to the other side of the bed and smoothed it out, grabbing one of the extra quilts Thorin had brought. “Thorin, I was on the road with you for 6 months sleeping on the ground. Perhaps the old Bilbo Baggins would have complained about these stone beds and this chilly mountain, but not this Bilbo! I am very grateful to even have my own room during my stay here.”
During his stay here… Thorin felt that familiar knot in his throat, that hollow feeling in his stomach.
“You deserve better,” Thorin choked out. “I would like to move you into the royal quarters.”
“No, that won’t be necessary, I already told you,” Bilbo snapped. “And while I do appreciate you thinking of me and bringing these extra quilts and furs, I really don’t need all of this. I’m sure there’s others who are older and frailer who are in need of extra blankets.”
“You are the only hobbit in the mountain, and I know you find it very cold and dark here,” Thorin said, busying himself with smoothing out the blankets even though there was nothing else to be done. “I want you to be comfortable here in Erebor. You deserve it, after all I put you through.”
“Thorin…” Bilbo sighed.
Thorin moved to the fireplace, throwing piles of wood into it. “The fireplaces are much larger in the royal quarters. You will have your own desk, and shelves for books. Your own kitchen as well, so you needn’t travel all the way to the communal kitchens to eat.”
“I’m quite content with the way things are now,” Bilbo protested. “Honestly, I’ve been content ever since you were discharged from the infirmary. I wasn’t really sleeping back then, you know, but now that I know you’re alright…”
He trailed off. Once Thorin had got a roaring fire going, he stood up and turned to see Bilbo wringing his hands and looking at his feet.
“I will not be content until I know you’re warm, happy, and healthy,” Thorin said softly. “Will you allow me to fuss over you a little, after all you’ve done for me?”
Bilbo let out a breathy laugh. “I-I suppose, if you put it that way.”
He sniffled a little and rubbed under his nose.
Note to self: try to find a handkerchief for Bilbo.
“Will you allow me to check for a fever?” Thorin asked.
Bilbo’s red cheeks turned an even deeper crimson. “Oin already checked, and he said I was alright. Just said I should get some rest.”
Thorin stepped closer to him anyway, and Bilbo didn’t move away. He tilted his chin up and Thorin hesitantly lifted his hand and pressed the back of it against Bilbo’s forehead.
Both of them gasped, and Thorin reeled back in panic. “Mahal, Bilbo, you’re cold as ice!”
“And you’re as hot as a forge,” Bilbo exclaimed, and grabbed Thorin’s hand and pressed the back of it against his cheek. He let out a sigh, closing his eyes. “This is better than the fire.”
Thorin felt his whole face heat up, but where the back of his hand touched Bilbo’s cheek, it was bloody freezing.
“Why are you so cold?” Thorin gasped, and without another thought he pressed his palms to both of Bilbo’s cheeks.
“And why are you so warm?” Bilbo asked, his eyes still closed, and he brought his hands up to hold both of Thorin’s. Thorin jumped from how cold they were.
Now he panicked. “Forgive me for this,” Thorin said, and scooped Bilbo up into his arms.
“Thorin!” Bilbo squeaked, but then he seemed to go slightly limp. He wrapped his arms around Thorin’s neck and nuzzled into his chest. “You’re so warm...like a furnace…”
Thorin plunked Bilbo onto the bed, and Bilbo seemed to be protesting but Thorin was in too much of a panic to pay attention. He gathered the blankets up and wrapped them around Bilbo.
“Does that help at all?” He asked hurriedly.
“I, well, not as much as—”
“Wait, the fire,” Thorin said, and then gripped onto the end of the bed and hauled it next to the fireplace with very little effort while Bilbo babbled on about how this was all very unnecessary. “Stay here, I will bring you a cup of tea.”
“Thorin Oakenshield don’t you dare!” Bilbo snapped in the voice that meant he was very serious.
Thorin stopped in his tracks, fiddling with one of his braids. “Ah. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” Bilbo said, and unwrapped himself from the blankets. “Thank you for all of your concern, but I believe I know what the best cure for the cold will be.”
“Do you know a recipe? Some type of medicine?” Thorin asked, prepared to go fetch anything to save his hobbit from dying before his eyes.
Bilbo was very red in the face again. “Well. Like I said before. You are very warm.”
“I assure you, I am fine. Dwarves are naturally—”
“You can be very slow sometimes, my dear,” Bilbo said, disgruntled, and he got up from the bed and wrapped his arms around Thorin’s middle.
“I…” Thorin breathed, and he slowly circled his arms around Bilbo, resting his chin on his shoulder. He had called him ‘dear’...
“I’m not being too forward, am I?” Bilbo asked. “You are just...very warm...and I enjoy this very much.”
Thorin’s heart was pounding, and he wondered if Bilbo could feel it. “I enjoy this as well.”
They stayed like that for a long time, the only sound in the room being the crackling fire next to them along with their deep breathing.
“Would you...like to cuddle?” Bilbo asked in a small voice.
“I would like nothing more,” Thorin said, his voice coming out like a low pur.
He felt Bilbo shiver slightly; and something told him it wasn’t due to the cold. Bilbo felt much warmer now. Warm, safe, content. And very soft.
Bilbo pulled away from the hug and held Thorin’s hands, walking backward toward the bed. Thorin followed, not taking his eyes off his hobbit’s face. He looked radiant as ever, and he wanted to plant a healing kiss on that red nose.
Wordlessly, they settled themselves on the bed, wrapping the blankets around both of them and leaning against the pillows. Bilbo laid his head on Thorin’s chest, their arms wrapped around each other, and Thorin could not believe that this was really happening. Bilbo’s golden curls tickled his cheek as he rested against them.
“I wouldn’t mind staying like this for the entire winter season,” Thorin said.
Bilbo hummed in response. “Goodness, your voice is lovely, did you know?”
“Then I shall talk to you until you fall asleep,” Thorin chuckled, and a wave of boldness washed over him. He made circles with his thumb where he was gently holding Bilbo’s arm, and pressed a light kiss to the top of his head.
Bilbo immediately blinked up at him.
“I’m sorry,” Thorin said, going very stiff, letting go of Bilbo’s arm.
“No, no, don’t apologize,” Bilbo said, and gulped. “I-I suppose we should talk about this.”
“About what?” Thorin gulped as well.
“I...want to make sure we are not having a cultural misunderstanding,” Bilbo said. “I am beginning to think you might...share my feelings.”
Thorin’s heart was pounding in his head. “I-I thought I made it quite clear how I felt. Shall I demonstrate it further?”
“What?”
“May I…?” Thorin brought his hand to Bilbo’s cheek, caressing his blushing face with his thumb.
“Yes you may,” Bilbo muttered, and tilted his chin up, his gaze focused on Thorin’s lips.
Thorin’s heart was banging like a hammer in his chest now, ringing in his ears, his entire body on fire as he brought Bilbo’s face closer to his and felt his hot breath against his lips. Bilbo got impatient and closed the gap between their lips, reaching up to run his fingers through Thorin’s beard as their lips moved against each other. He had never felt this kind of warmth before.
Bilbo pulled back slightly, his eyes searching Thorin’s face, likely for any sign of regret, but then he quickly kissed him again. He moved so he was sitting in Thorin’s lap, and Thorin caressed his sides and his back, pulling him closer. He couldn’t believe he was really kissing Bilbo Baggins.
When they finally parted again, they were both panting heavily, and Bilbo flashed him a brilliant smile.
“I am very warm now, in case you’re wondering.”
“I can tell,” Thorin snickered, and then finally placed a kiss on Bilbo’s nose.
Bilbo’s nose twitched cutely. “You’re going to make me sneeze, and then I’ll have to leave this comfortable spot to go find some sort of cloth.”
“I will find you a handkerchief. It will be my first task when I am forced to leave your bed.”
A mischievous smirk appeared on Bilbo’s face. “And what if I never let you leave my bed?”
Thorin raised an eyebrow. “Well, I can always pick you up and take you to mine. There is a lot more space there.”
“Cheeky!” Bilbo exclaimed. “That would certainly get people talking.”
“Perhaps we should begin properly courting before I take you to my room,” Thorin said. “And I will begin by gifting you a handkerchief.”
“As if you didn’t already give me a mithril vest.” Bilbo rolled his eyes. “It’s my turn to give you a gift, just you wait.”
“We can worry about all of that later,” Thorin sighed, caressing Bilbo’s sides again. “I’d like to stay here a little longer.”
Bilbo smiled warmly. “So would I.”
He leaned forward and kissed Thorin again, before pulling back and whispering. “I’d like to stay here for a very long time.”
Thorin searched his face for the true meaning of what he was saying, but he didn’t have to contemplate much longer.
“And by here I mean with you. In Erebor. Or anywhere in the world.”
“As long as you’re happy,” Thorin said, then added with a grin, “And warm.”
Bilbo laughed. “You needn’t worry about that anymore. I’ve found the perfect cure.”
Thorin kissed his hobbit again. He had never been happier.