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Thorin Oakenshield was dead.

He had died. On a lake of ice, cold and full of pain. And something had been shining above him, glinting in the sun. Tears.

Tears glistened on Bilbo's face as they dripped down the hobbit's nose and Thorin let out a final breath and closed his eyes. He slipped into darkness, like he was falling asleep and the cold seeped from his bones, dragging the aching pain with it.

And then he woke up. And was decidedly not dead. He was breathing, and he could smell herbs and ointments, and light was prickling at his eyelids. Slowly, with not a small amount of dread, he opened his eyes and blinked in the light.

He was in a tent, on a bed, and daylight was streaming in despite the fabric, and someone was watching him.

He turned slightly to see Bilbo, sitting back in a chair, with bags under his bloodshot eyes and a slumped posture. His eyes were following every movement of Thorin's.

"You're awake," Bilbo stated, his voice sounding crackly and dry. "I'll fetch Gandalf and Elrond." He stood quickly and nodded at Thorin. "Don't try to get up yet."

Thorin blinked several times, his mind sluggish and unwilling to catch up. Bilbo... had been here, watching him sleep. And he'd been crying, and tired and he'd stayed.

Thorin wandered how long he had been asleep for. A rustling movement caught his attention and he looked up to see Gandalf and Elrond entering the tent.

"Thrákrun... Lord Elrond," Thorin's voice felt like gravel in his throat, and Elrond immediately passed him a mug of water.

"Drink," the elf ordered.

Thorin sipped on the water as Elrond and Gandalf stood over him, muttering and waving hands and a staff over his body.

"How long was I asleep for?" Thorin managed to ask.

"Less than a day," Gandalf replied, his answer surprising Thorin. "The wounded are being healed, but..."

He trailed off, avoiding looking at Thorin, who sat up in a alarm. "What?" He demanded, not registering that he should be filled with pain but was completely fine.

"Fíli and Kíli have not yet been found," Elrond finally said, dark eyes meeting Thorin's. "I'm sorry. But there is still hope."

"How long have they been missing?" Thorin felt tears slipping down his cheeks.

Gandalf answered this time. "Since the battle yesterday evening. It is now morning. As Elrond said, there is hope, but they would've been outside all night, with grave wounds. I implore you not to get your hopes up."

Thorin practically growled and shifted, standing up out of his bed, then suddenly stopped. "How am I alive? I was dying..." He trailed off, and lifted his shirt. Where he had been stabbed was a puckered scar, which looked decades old instead of hours. He sat back down, hard. "How?" He managed, weakly.

"You were healed." Gandalf answered shortly.

Thorin thought for a second. "Give them my most sincere gratitude. Now I need to find them."

Elrond glanced at Gandalf, who nodded. "Indeed you must, we'll be outside. Shout if you need anything."

They departed, and Thorin turned to find his clothes. While doing so, he listened in to the conversation outside.

"Such power, Gandalf, I have never seen before," Elrond was saying. "Why did he not play a more.... vital role in the battle?"

Gandalf was silent for a moment. "He is bound to only use his powers to heal."

"By whom?" Elrond asked.

"Himself, Elrond, himself."

None of what they were saying made sense to Thorin, who pulled on boots and stood once more, grabbing his sword before stalking out the tent. Balin and Dwalin were waiting there for him.

Dwalin let out a shout and hugged Thorin hard, and Balin smiled, tears hiding under his glasses. AS they walked away from the camp of tents, Balin filled him in.

"Thranduil and his elves, with Dain's dwarrow are sifting through, looking for survivors. All has been placated between you, by the way, although there is clearly unease there." Balin continued. "All the Company are accounted for, apart from Fíli and Kíli."

Thorin just nodded, his pace increasing as Balin moved away from the subject and proceeded to tell Thorin that any remaining orcs had fled, many dwarrow were being healed, and that Bilbo was helping in the latter.

Thorin paused slightly. "I didn't know Bilbo was a healer." His thoughts were confusing around Bilbo. He was still working out how he really felt about the the hobbit. He knew he would die for him, and live for him. He loved him, if he was being honest with himself. Where and how and when it had happened, he didn't know, but Thorin Oakenshield had fallen hard for the hobbit. "Like Oín?"

There was a moment of silence. "It's best you see for yourself." Dwalin answered shortly, and then they were joined by other dwarrow.

Thorin's very bones were sore, but he refused to give in. He would search for them, however long it took. Fingers grasped his elbow and he spun to see Dwalin, who gestured through the ruins.

"We've found them." Dwalin said simply and then tugged Thorin, who broke into a run, following Dwalin through turns and then suddenly he could see them, slumped on ice, next to each other, the snow around them died a vibrant red.

Balin was talking to a young dwarf. "Get back to the tents, quickly. Get the hobbit. Gandalf, Elrond and Thranduil would also be helpful, if they can come, but the hobbit first and foremost. Quickly!"

The dwarf sped off as if the devil was on his heels.

Thorin was already slipping his cloak off, placing it over the unmoving dwarrow. "Are they alive?" He asked, hearing the desperation in his own voice.

Balin nodded. "Barely. It's a relief they found each other, together they were able to stay warm enough to survive. They both have very bad wounds, though, hence the urgency for Bilbo."

Thorin frowned slightly. "Wouldn't a wizard be more helpful? Or the elven magic?"

Balin said nothing, merely took off his cloak as well to cover the boys.

"Find their wounds," Thorin instructed, "and keep them warm." He gently turned Fíli over, searching for his injury. The cold was beginning to bite at his arms, but he refused to put his cloak back on.

Suddenly Bilbo appeared, followed by the panting dwarf. The elf captain was also there, as was Gandalf.

Bilbo immediately fell to his knees next to Fíli and Kíli. "Wounds?" He asked, taking off his own cloak and laying it on the ice next to the princes. Gandalf has taken his off too and Bilbo overlapped the two.

"Roll them, gently, gently, onto the cloaks," Bilbo ordered. Dwarrow sprang to action, lifting the two dwarrow before putting them on the cloaks, Thorin's, Balin's and other cloaks wrapped around them.

"Fíli has been pierced just above the heart. It goes all the way through. Luckily, Azog's angle was off, entering beneath the heart, at Fili's back, and has seemed to miss it. Kíli's stomach is badly injured, and we suspect he might have a broken back." Balin told Bilbo, and Thorin's heart sunk. Even if Kíli managed to survive, he would never be able to walk again. "And there is also an arrow leg lodged into his leg, we are unable to get it out."

Bilbo nodded. "Everyone step back, please. Tauriel, hold Fíli down."

The elf captain stepped forward as other dwarrow retreated. Thorin refused to budge. Bilbo glanced at him, an argument dying on his lips. He shook his head and let Thorin stay where he was.

Calmly, the elf gripped Fíli's shoulders, keeping his back pinned to the ice.

"Thorin, hold his legs." Bilbo ordered, his eyes on the gaping wound near Fíli's shoulder. "He might wake before he's healed, in which case it might be painful."

Bilbo then rubbed his hands together, and blew on them for warmth. Then, holding his hands over the wound, he shut his eyes, concentration clear on his face.

A golden light started to appear under his hands and Thorin's eyes grew wide. It grew until a small ball of light danced at Bilbo's fingers. He flexed them, and the light moved to Fíli. The wound slowly knitted itself together, the redness slowly withdrawing as the wound healed.

Thorin glanced up, shocked, at Bilbo. Eyes now open, they were glowing softly, a shining gold as Bilbo gently moved his hands. The golden light shifted, lifting up Fíli's shoulder before dancing over the entry wound on the other side, healing that too.

Then the magic retreated back into Bilbo's palms. Fíli slumped and Thorin pulled him into himself. Fíli muttered and shifted, eyes slowly opening. "Uncle?"

Thorin let out a choked sob. "I'm here, I'm here." Fíli let out a slow breath.

"Kíli? Where's Kíli?" Fíli asked, his voice becoming higher.

"He's here, don't worry, Fee." Bilbo told him, voice soft as he moved over to the younger prince. "Tauriel, I'm going to start with the stomach, then the spine. I'll also need to remove the arrow head, but by then he'll be conscious. And it will hurt."

Tauriel nodded in understanding.

"Uncle, what's he doing," Fíli asked, watching as Bilbo crouched at Kíli's midriff.

"Watch," Thorin told him gently, helping him to his feet.

The light appeared again, healing the deep wound into a faded scar quickly. Bilbo's eyes glowed again. "Lay him out straight, Tee."

The elf tenderly moved Kíli, straightening his spine. Thorin, from where he was, could hear grating. Again, the magic appeared, and this time lifted Kíli into the air. His feet dangled near the ground as he was pushed into a standing position.

Bilbo's fingers flexed as his hands danced, the golden mist surrounding Kíli. Thorin heard several clicks as a bead of sweat ran down Bilbo's forehead. Gently, Kíli was lowered onto the cloaks once more.

The elf leaned forward and pressed her lips to Kíli. "I'm sorry," she whispered, before gripping Kili's thighs and pressing down.

Bilbo hovered his hands over a wound just above Kíli's knee. A glint of metal was visible.

Kíli was stirring. He lifted his head, smiling softly when he saw Tauriel. "What... What's happening?" Before the elf could respond, Bilbo cut in.

"There is an arrowhead above your knee, Kíli. And I need to take it out," Bilbo's voice was soft but firm. "It's going to hurt, okay? But I'll be as quick as I can."

Kíli nodded, resolve settling on his features. "Is Fíli ok?" Bilbo nodded, smiling gently.

"Ready?" Kíli nodded again. Bilbo's hands glowed and the magic flew to the arrowhead, pulling it upwards.

Kíli cried out, his head falling back as he trashed, his legs pinned by Tauriel. The noise was like a blow to Thorin, who started forwards, Fíli next to him. Bilbo lifted his hand, a golden barrier forming between himself, Kíli, Tauriel and then everyone else.

"Please, I need to concentrate," Bilbo told them. "Also, you two have both been badly injured, and I used a lot of energy on you. Too much can cause your systems to go into overload," he told them. "You can't come too close to me healing Kíli."

He turned his attention back to Kíli, and resumed taking the arrowhead out. Kíli whimpered and then screamed, thrashing hard enough for Tauriel to slip, strainging to hold him down.

Bilbo stopped. "Kíli, listen to me, can you focus on my voice?"

Kíli let out another whimper, but nodded.

"The longer we leave this in, the more, likely it is to infect and fester. We can wait until we get you back to camp, and numb the wound, but you will still feel it, just not as much. And moving you back down Ravenhill is going to be very painful." Bilbo told him, voice as soothing as possible. "So do you want to wait, or do it now?"

Kíli hesitated. "Now," he whispered.

Bilbo nodded, then paused. "Can you focus on your pain? Try and isolate it from everything else, in your knee." Kíli nodded, sweating. The golden barrier shimmered and fell as Bilbo gently moved his hand next to Kíli's temple.

The hobbit suddenly stiffened and drew in a sharp breath. Kíli slumped back. "I can't feel it anymore," he told Bilbo, who nodded, attention turning back to his knee.

Very slowly, the arrowhead was lifted from Kíli's knee. Bilbo let out a small, barely audible cry several times, but kept going, his face paling until finally the arrowhead fell with a clatter onto ice.

The wound was quickly knitted back together and Tauriel let go of Kíli's legs.

Bilbo's whole body slackened and he fell back.

"Bilbo?" Thorin stepped forward as Bilbo staggered to his feet, face ashen and jaw clenched.

Bilbo swayed suddenly. Thorin dashed forward as Bilbo's eyes rolled back and he collapsed. Thorin caught him before he hit the ground, Bilbo as light as ever.

"What happened?" Thorin asked no-one in particular. "Is he okay?"

Gandalf stepped forward. "Over exertion. He healed you last night, and probably didn't sleep, then healed Fíli and then Kíli. He will be fine after a rest."

Kíli struggled to his feet. "How did he do that?"

Gandalf paused. "His parents were very good people. And saved the lady Yavannah, when she visited this world in mortal form. So she gifted them Bilbo. He could fight, but swore to only use his powers to heal people."

Fíli was supporting Kíli. "Does it still hurt?"

"No," Kíli shook his head. "The pain disappeared."

Gandalf glanced at Kíli, then back at Bilbo, who was still being held up by Thorin, fully unconscious. "Sacrificial idiot," the wizard muttered.

"What do you mean?" Thorin asked, shifting Bilbo so he was carrying the hobbit bridal-style.

"He took Kíli's pain," Gandalf replied as a way of explanation, but at the confusion still evident on many faces, he continued. "He couldn't just turn that pain into nothing, it has to go somewhere."

Thorin remembered Bilbo's rigid pose, his cries of pain and pale face. "You mean.... Bilbo felt it?"

Gandalf nodded. "We should head back to camp."

Thorin nodded, Bilbo's head resting on Thorin's upper arm.

The roles had been switched; Thorin was sitting next to Bilbo's bed, refusing to sleep or leave the hobbit. Kíli and Tauriel had both disappeared, and Fíli was talking with Balin.

The hobbit shifted, murmuring slightly. "Thorin?"

Thorin bolted upright. "You're awake." He said, mirroring Bilbo's first statement to him after he had woken. "Water?"

Bilbo nodded, gratefully accepting the drink.

"Are the boys okay?" Bilbo asked.

Thorin nodded. "All good. A bit cold, but they'll be fine."

Bilbo smiled gently. "Maybe this will convince Fíli to ask Orí on a date." At Thorin's eyebrow raise, Bilbo cleared his throat. "Fíli's been pining for ages, but was too nervous to ask Orí out. Maybe nearly dying will convince him to get his ass in gear."

Thorin shifted, slightly uncomfortable, as Bilbo was accidentally telling Thorin to ask him out too.

Bilbo's warm eyes met Thorin's. "Haven't you slept? Or worked?"

"No," Thorin replied. "I stayed here."

"Why?" Bilbo looks like he instantly regrets speaking.

Thorin smiles gently. "Because you stayed with me."

Bilbo's eyes light up as he smiles, a dimple appearing in his left cheek.

Thorin bit his lip, then started speaking before he could lose his courage. "Bilbo, I love you." He blurted out. "I don't know how but I've fallen completely in love with you. And I love the way a dimple appears in your cheek when you're smiling, and the way you tap your finger on your hip when you're annoyed, and how your hair's become longer, and you keep blowing it out of your eyes and it irritates you to no end. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you, whether that's here, or in the Shire, or wherever."

Bilbo stared at him with wide, shocked eyes, mouth opening and closing. Then the tent flap is thrown open and Fíli and Kíli race in.

"Bilbo!" They shout in unison. "You're awake."

"Seems to be the popular statement, yes," Bilbo smiled brightly. Thorin slinked out of the tent, missing the way Bilbo's eyes follow him and the way Bilbo's mouth turns down slightly.

Thorin nodded at Thranduil and Bard, who were explaining the damage to both the mountain and Dale. His mind was far away but both he and Balin had thought it would be good if he was there.

The tent rustled as someone joined them.

"If you don't mind, I've been asked to get King Oakenshield," a dwarf told them. Thorin recognised him as the dwarf Balin had sent for Bilbo at Ravenhill.

Thorin stood, bowed at the elf and the man and left the tent. "Who wants me?" He asked, tired.

The dwarf leads him to Dwalin, who is grinning widely. The sun has now set and the camp is, lit by candles.

"Yes, Dwalin?" Thorin nodded thanks at the runner dwarf and falls into step along Dwalin.

Dwalin's grin widens. "We're celebrating down in the square. You should join us."

"I just left an important meeting-" Thorin protested.

"Eh, Balin said you could leave." Dwalin replied and led him into a square. Lanterns and string were adorning the edges, dancing couples spinning in the middle. To one side is a band, and a lively tune is being played.

A familiar voice catches Thorin's attention.

"Norí, I swear to Valar, you are not allowed to give me love advice until you've got over yourself and snogged Dwalin senseless." Bilbo snapped.

Thorin raised an eyebrow pointedly at Dwalin who mumbled a curse under his breath.

"And Orí, you're not allowed to even come near me until you talk to Fíli. That was just a disaster." Bilbo told the scribe.

Orí protested. "It wasn't that bad." Bilbo snorted.

"Orí, he told you he loved you and you said, and I quote, 'uh, thank you' and ran." Bilbo quipped. "Please explain how that was not a disaster."

Thorin smiled despite himself. "So you and Norí, huh?" He nudged Dwalin.

Dwalin shrugged. "Norí thought it would be best if we didn't. What with him being a known thief and criminal."

Thorin scoffed. "And you let that stop you because...?"

Dwalin frowned for a moment. "Excuse me." And disappeared into the crowd. Thorin smiled slightly.

"Fíli, I swear, come a step closer and you'll be asleep for days." Bilbo's voice suddenly rose above the crowd.

"But you promised..." Kíli whined. "Please....."

There was a loud sighing. "Fine."

Thorin turned away to see Dwalin and Norí, locked in a very close embrace, kissing fiercely.

"Get a room!" Someone shouted. Thorin rolled his eyes.

"Yesssss!" Kíli shouted. Thorin turned to see Bilbo had jumped on the stage, and was talking to band members. Thorin stepped closer to his nephew, who turned and smiled when he saw Thorin.

"Hey uncle." His eyes shot back to Bilbo.

"What's he doing? And where has Fíli disappeared to?" Thorin asked.

"Well, I believe Fíli is somewhere over there trying to remove Orí's face with the sheer power of his mouth, which is gross," Kíli shuddered. "And Bilbo is going to sing."

"He what?" Thorin asked.

"Fíli is trying to remove-" Kíli started, but was cut off.

"Not Fíli," Thorin rolled his eyes. "Bilbo."

"Well, he promised he would sing once the battle was over, you know, before it started, and well, what a great opportunity." Kíli beamed. He wrote it himself, actually, about," Kíli paused. "Scutum de quercu. Wouldn't say what it meant."

Thorin's mind ran over the brief bit of Hobbitish Bilbo had taught him.

Bilbo took a deep breath.

"I used to hear a simple song,                                                                                                                                                                                                                That was until you came along."

Bilbo's voice was light, soothing and musical. None of the musicians had started playing yet, and the crowd quietened at Bilbo's singing. 

"Scutum means shield..." Thorin muttered.

"Now in its place is something new,
I hear it when I look at you."

Gentle piano and violin music started playing. Thorin was still muttering. "Querco is a tree... birch? No.... willow?"

"Oak?" Kíli hissed back.

Thorin froze. "Shield of oak. Shield of oak. Oakenshield..."

Kíli hadn't heard him; he was cheering and whooping.

"With simple songs, I wanted more,
Perfection is so quick to bore.
You are my beautiful, by far,
Our flaws are who we really are."

Bilbo's eyes darted to Thorin, and his cheeks turned red. Thorin smiled softly.

The music suddenly swelled, reaching a climax.

"I used to hear a simple song,
That was until you came along.
You took my broken melody,
And now, I hear a symphony."

Thorin pushed through the crowd, nearing the stage.

The music dropped slightly, until a single pianist was playing.

"And now, I hear,
A symphony."

The music came to a finish as reached the stage. Offering a hand out, Bilbo took it and jumped down.

"Thorin," Bilbo muttered. "I wanted to tell you earlier... I love you too. So much. I love how you're actually a huge softie who really isn't that intimidating once you know him-"

"Hey!"

"-And that you have lines around your eyes that crease when you smile or laugh and that you always, always seem warm. It's actually a bit unfair, you are a literal furnace all the time. There is nothing, and I repeat nothing, medically off about you that would actually suggest why you have the power of constant heat, it's so weird." Bilbo paused. "I'm rambling. Sorry."

Thorin laughed lightly. "Yes, you are."

"So this is why you left our meeting so hastily," a new voice cut in.

"Thranduil," Thorin bowed his head slightly in greeting. "Bard."

They bow in return.

"Hypocrite," Bilbo muttered under his breath.

"Sorry, Master Baggins?" Thranduil asked.

Bilbo cleared his throat. "As if you two haven't been very, very, very, obviously eye-fucking since you met. It's actually awkward to be in the same room with you two."

Bard turned red, and a light blush graced Thranduil's cheeks.

"Now go go, but please, just remember, for our own sanity, that tents are very thin. They don't stop sound." Bilbo replied, grinning.

Thranduil spluttered.

Thorin laughed lightly. "A dance?" Bilbo turned back to him, and nodded, smiling.

Thorin placed a hand on Bilbo's waist as Bilbo gripped his shoulder. Intertwining fingers, they easily fell into a rhythm, Thorin's chin, due to the height difference, resting against Bilbo's head. Bilbo pressed his cheek into Thorin's cloak as they swayed to a slow song.

"I love you, Thorin Oakensheild." Bilbo whispered. "And I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Good," Thorin replied softly. "Because I wasn't planning on leaving you."

Bilbo laughed lowly, tipping his head up to stare up at Thorin through his eyelashes. Thorin moved his hand to cup Bilbo's cheek, leaning down slightly as they stop swaying.

Bilbo rose onto his tiptoes, their breaths mingling. "I wasn't planning on letting you," the hobbit breathed before they moved forward at the same time.

Thorin's hand at Bilbo's hip moved round, pulling Bilbo by the waist further into him as he stroked his thumb along Bilbo's cheek. Bilbo sighed gently as they kiss gently, arms winding round Thorin's neck.

Someone wolf whistles but Thorin didn't care. He didn't notice the gold dancing unintentionally at Bilbo's hands.

His body had gone numb but he was decidedly not dead.

He was alive. Under a sea of stars, warm, and full of sparks.

Thorin Oakenshield was alive.