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Bilbo never really decided to stay in Erebor.
In fact, he was very much determined to get away from the mountain as soon as the dust settled, had his things packed and everything. After all, Thorin had made it perfectly clear that Bilbo's company was not desired, and far it be from him to disagree with stubborn kings who thought they knew better than everyone else just because they were wearing a stupid old crown. Not that Bilbo was bitter or anything, no. Thorin was perfectly free to ruin his kingdom in whatever idiotic manner he liked.
Except then it turned out that instead of getting both himself and his nearest and dearest killed in his stupid bid for dominance, Thorin had instead managed to get badly injured. So badly injured, he shouldn't have been on his feet for ages, except of course he disagreed with such instructions because Thorin bloody Oakenshield knew better than healers, oh yes he did, and apparently Bilbo was the only one willing to set his foot down in the matter. The rest of the dwarves did agree with him that yes, it would be better for Thorin to stay in bed rest when he was just a step away from literally spilling his guts all over the dirty floor, but when it came down to it Bilbo was the only one who would push him back into bed and tell him in no uncertain terms that there was to be no getting up until Óin had given his formal blessing, your royal idiocy.
At least he didn't have to perform the same duty for Fíli and Kíli. Not because they were any less injured, because apparently any semblance of self-preservation instinct was long lost to the line of Durin, but because Kíli was too busy flirting with his personal caretaker to get bored of lying in bed and because Ori took to sitting down with his knitting next to Fíli's bed and looking incredibly disappointed every time the prince even thought of getting up. It was an excellent disappointed look. Bilbo caught Dori wiping away proud tears at least twice.
Of course, eventually Thorin did recover enough to get up, but by that time winter had well and truly settled in and nobody would hear of Bilbo setting out on his journey. The mountain passes would be impenetrable, they told him, and besides nobody would be going west until the spring and there was absolutely no way they would see him set on the road on his own. He would just have to wait, but not to worry, Thorin had lifted his banishment so there were no problems with his staying in Erebor for the time being. Besides, if he did try to leave now Kíli might cry, and nobody liked it when Kíli cried.
So, Bilbo stayed in Erebor for the winter, watching as the healthier members of the Company and assorted arrivals from the Iron Hills and other surrounding areas set to making the mountain livable again. He helped where he could, but really there was very little a hobbit could do when it came to things such as clearing rubble and keeping the cave ceilings from caving in, so he was left with making sure Thorin still didn't push himself too hard. It was a thankless job, but someone had to do it, and finally the weather started turning into spring without anyone's innards decorating the mountain's floors, walls, or any other surfaces.
Bilbo couldn't have been happier at the first signs of spring weather arriving. He had sorely missed warmth and sunshine. While the winters in Hobbiton did get rather long on occasion, at least there he got stuck in his cosy little hobbit hole, not a huge, cold mountain. As much as the dwarves — well, most of the dwarves, anyway — tried to make him feel at home, it just wasn't the same, and by the time the snow started to melt Bilbo was itching to get outside. Of course, he still couldn't set out just yet, not until there were some dwarves going west who could escort him, but at least he could get outside every now and then and enjoy the sun. All in all, Bilbo decided, things were very much looking up.
Of course, that was when all his beloved dwarves decided to go mad.
*
It started, as such things often do, with something apparently small and insignificant.
Well, not that Ori would have appreciated being called small and insignificant, and really he wasn't, but the incident that first caught Bilbo's attention certainly was. He had been helping Ori sort through some of the old texts in the mountain, which in general was rather pleasant work, though Ori was somewhat distracted today. Bilbo wasn't sure what was going through his mind, but it clearly wasn't their quest for the current location of the tale of the disastrous war campaign of Lord Teuras some thousand years earlier.
Bilbo was just about to ask Ori what was bothering him when the door to the old library was opened, Fíli walking in. "Hey, Ori?" Fíli looked fairly distracted himself, one hand scratching at the neckline of his tunic while the other held some sort of a document he was reading. "Where's that list of materials we're ordering from Iron Hills?"
"How exactly should I know?" Ori snapped, and, yes, that was definitely a snapping tone. "I last saw it when I was handing it to you. It's not my problem if your high and mighty head is like a sieve."
"Hey, I was just asking!" Fíli huffed. "You're the one who seems to always know everything, listening to you speak, so excuse me for thinking that might include things you actually wrote down!"
Bilbo rather felt like he had entered some kind of a bizarre backwards world where things didn't work as they should have. It wasn't a place he enjoyed, that was for certain. He much preferred his usual world where Fíli was nice and friendly and Ori was always happy to help and the two only ever exchanged long and meaningful gazes instead of sharp comments. He wasn't even aware of any recent fights between the two. All in all, Bilbo decided as he watched Fíli stomp out while Ori fumed to himself, this was something he had to examine further.
As it turned out, this incident was less of a problem in itself and more a symptom of something much more widespread. The more Bilbo paid attention, the more he found dwarves acting as though the entire world had personally wronged them. The most peaceful dwarves got snappish and irritable, while those who couldn't be called peaceful even at the best of times were downright picking fights at every opportunity. More than once Bilbo had to stop some of his friends coming to blows over something utterly trivial, while other times he simply stepped back, figuring that if Dwalin and Balin wanted to literally butt heads over their latest disagreement it was hardly the worst thing they could have done. Their thick dwarven skulls could certainly take it.
Had all this started a month or so earlier, Bilbo would have just figured that the dwarves were getting as sick of being stuck indoors as he was. Except that, well, they were dwarves and therefore probably had no trouble sitting in a glorified cave for months on end, and all this had only started when the weather had finally started to turn warmer. It was almost like they were annoyed at the idea of being able to look outside and see more than just snow and ice, except it wasn't like anyone was forcing them to get some fresh air, however good it might have been for them.
(Bilbo didn't count the times when someone from the Company insisted on coming along as he ventured out to see spring reclaiming the sides of the mountain, because nobody was still forcing them to. And really, he would have been just fine on his own. There was no need for them to follow him around and then act as though the very idea of nature were a personal affront to all dwarvenkind.)
Thorin, he decided, was the worst of all. He didn't get as physically aggressive as some of the others did — which was a good thing, really, Thorin was still not entirely recovered and Bilbo wasn't about to deal with the repercussions of their beloved yet sense-deficient king managing to tear himself apart all over again over some stupid scuffle — but he was irritated and grumpy all the time, every moment of the day. At least the other dwarves were calmer on occasion, regardless of the manner in which their not-calm chose to present itself, but Thorin was apparently in a foul mood from the moment he woke to the time he slumped back to bed.
Bilbo tried to figure it out at first, really he did. He paid attention to the things the dwarves got snappish about, made note of when Ori was more distracted than usual, tried to combine clues to come up with some sort of a bigger picture. All of his efforts were futile, however, as there was no common cause that he could pin down. All the dwarves were simply irrationally irritated, and his only ally in the mountain seemed to be Tauriel, who was likewise puzzled at their behaviour. And, as luck would have it, it was through Tauriel that he first started to unravel this puzzle.
Really, he should have figured out earlier that the solution to the mystery of the grumpy dwarves would be the one dwarf who was apparently incapable of being grumpy.
*
Kíli blinked in surprise as Bilbo brought up the subject. "You know, most people don't mean it as a compliment when they say I'm different from other dwarves."
All right, so maybe he could have been a bit more direct in his approach. "I don't mean you in general, and besides, I'm not exactly one to insult someone for not having a proper beard or whatever." This earned him a chuckle from Kíli, and, yes, he had so missed seeing one of his friends in good mood lately. "Just, well, recently you've been the only one who isn't grumpy all the time. I mean. Surely you must have noticed that everyone's acting like someone stole all their favourite axes and melted them into mirrors for elves?"
"Not really?" Kíli tilted his head to the side. "Though I'll admit I haven't been paying much attention to what's going on, really. I've been far too busy working on my courting gift for Tauriel." This prompted him to break into a big, slightly goofy grin, and Bilbo's heart melted, just a little. "Kind of hard to be in a bad mood when I'm doing that."
"As sweet as that is to hear, I have to agree with Bilbo here." Tauriel ran her hand over Kíli's hair. "The rest of the dwarves in the mountain have all been quite irritable lately. At first I thought it was just their usual malcontent at having an elf around, but even those who seem to have accepted me are acting strange."
"I might have expected this during the winter, what with our being all but snowed in, but rather they seem to be getting worse as the weather gets warmer." Bilbo sighed. "I'm starting to wonder if there's something incredibly annoying going on in the mountain and I'm just the only one that doesn't notice. Are there some invisible pixies turning everyone's socks inside-out that haven't yet figured out a way to annoy me and my bare feet?"
"Well, your feet aren't exactly bare, now are they?" Kíli grinned as he nodded toward Bilbo's furry feet, then paused, his eyes widening. "Wait, that's it!"
"What?" Bilbo frowned. "You can't seriously mean to say there are sock-sabotaging pixies flying around."
"No, no pixies, just." Kíli's grin got wider and perhaps just a touch manic. "You have fur on your feet, right?"
"As you can see." Bilbo lifted one foot. "Well, it's less like fur and more like the hair on my head, really. It just doesn't grow as long, that's all."
"Well, that's just as well. Because I just figured out what's wrong with everyone else." And just why did Kíli look almost gleeful about it? "It's shedding season!"
For a moment Bilbo stared at Kíli, waiting for him to laugh off his obvious joke. Tauriel wore much the same look on her face. As Kíli didn't back off, though, Bilbo spoke. "Shedding season." He didn't feel this statement deserved a question mark.
"Yup!" Kíli looked unduly proud of this revelation of his. "I really should have realised it earlier, but I was kind of distracted. It's just, we dwarves have a lot of hair on our heads and none on our feet. And in between that, we have various amounts of, well, fur, for lack of a better word." He patted at his chest. "It's just about the time to go from winter coat to summer coat, which means shedding. And shedding means itchiness, and itchiness translates to annoyed dwarves."
"You have fur." Tauriel's voice managed to convey an incredible amount of disbelief for such flat monotone. "That changes with the seasons."
"Yup! It happens in the autumn, too, except we were all kind of under pressure at the time, so it would have been lost in that. And in any case the spring shedding is worse, so there's that. You're really lucky it was early last year or the beginning of our little trip would have been so much worse."
"So why aren't you irritated like everyone else, then?" Besides the fact that he wasn't sure it was possible for Kíli to be angry unless someone's life was being threatened. He hadn't even gotten annoyed during his forced bed rest and recovery, though that might have had something to do with Tauriel's constant presence at his side.
"Well, I'm young, for one thing. And don't really have much of a knack for it, as you can see." Kíli scratched at his stubbly cheek. "You can pretty much tell how much hair a dwarf has under his clothes by looking at his face. Bigger beard means thicker fur in a larger area. Fíli and Ori aren't being that bad, for example, since they don't have that much fur yet, you can see it from their short beards. Too young to have a lot of it yet. Me, I'm not really that much hairier than a man would be. Which, yes, Tauriel, I am aware that's still more than what an elf would have, but really I'm not sure my hair situation even warrants the word fur. Not much there for me to shed, so I don't get itchy and thus don't get annoyed."
"But why's Thorin being the worst of them, then?" Because that didn't make sense. "I know he's not exactly the most cheerful person around, but after he got over the irritation of being stuck in the bed he was almost amiable for a while. And now he's like a lumbering bear with an arrow stuck in his hind, when even Glóin and Balin with their huge beards are a bit less grumpy at least some of the time."
Kíli gave him an odd look. "Uh, you do know we're from the Longbeard line, right? And I'm the black sheep here, not a prime specimen?"
"Well, yes. But you just said the beard is a good indicator of what's going on underneath." Not that he was thinking of what was under Thorin's clothes. Absolutely not.
"Usually, yes. Except when someone cuts their beard. Which, you know, Thorin has been doing since we lost Erebor the last time." Kíli must have seen the look of understanding dawning on Bilbo's face, as he simply nodded sagely. "Oh, yes. It might not look like much on the surface, but under those clothes?" Kíli's lips twitched. "Well, a lumbering bear is not that far from the truth of what Uncle looks like naked in mid-winter."
"Right." Not thinking about it. Not at all. "So… is there anything I can do about it? Or do we just have to wait however long it takes for it to be over?"
"Well, usually it's over in a few weeks, I think? I mean, I generally just stay out of the way when everyone starts growling, so I don't have that much personal experience." Kíli shrugged. "There is one thing you could do to make things easier, but I'm not sure if that'd suit your hobbitish sensibilities."
"Oh?" Bilbo lifted his eyebrows. "And what would be so very shocking, then?"
And there was that grin again. "Say, how good are you with a hairbrush?"
*
Really, though, this could hardly be called a hairbrush. It was pretty for sure, all shining metal and tiny perfect jewels, but really it reminded Bilbo more of the brushes they'd used on their ponies on the road than anything he might have put anywhere near his own hair. Though then, if it indeed was a manner of fur that dwarves had on their chests, he supposed this kind would be more appropriate.
Though then, Kíli had seemed to take an inordinate amount of pleasure choosing what he termed to be the "just right" brush from the many they had managed to find in the piles upon piles of glittering things in the treasure room. He had also picked another one, ostensibly for his brother, only to follow this with an announcement that he would give the brush to Ori instead to "solve both of Fíli's problems at once". How he proposed to do that, Bilbo wasn't sure, mostly because he was not quite certain what Kíli assumed to be his brother's two problems. Either way, that was between Kíli and Fíli (and, apparently, Ori for some reason) and Bilbo was quite happy to stay out of the way unless it somehow came to blows. In which case he would probably still stay out of the way, being only a small hobbit with no desire to meddle in actual fights between dwarves, but at least he could direct some slightly more sensible dwarves their way. He doubted even the most annoyed dwarf would like the two heirs to try actually killing each other.
Bilbo, for his part, was now armed with a brush he had been assured was appropriate, facing the door of Thorin's quarters. Despite Kíli's assurances that Thorin would be quite happy with his help, he did pause for a while before lifting his hand to knock on the thick wooden door. Earlier in the day he had seen Thorin reaming on one of the dwarves Dwalin had recruited from Iron Hills for guard duty, and even the large, burly dwarf who seemed quite annoyed himself had cowered in the face of Thorin's fury. For all that he wanted Thorin to start being more reasonable, he wasn't entirely sure this was a beehive he should be sticking his hand into.
Just as he was debating the merits of pretending he hadn't knocked and running away before Thorin could come to the door, that choice was wrenched from him by the creak of the door opening. Thorin stood in the doorway, tall and dark and thunderous, and Bilbo might have backed away at the sight of that except he refused to be scared away by grumpy dwarves anymore.
"Master Hobbit." And wasn't this just lovely. They'd finally managed to progress to Thorin calling him by the first name more or less consistently, and now they were back to calling him Master Hobbit? Really? "What do you want?"
"For you to act in a more sensible manner, for one thing." Bilbo hefted the brush he held in one hand as one might a weapon, not that he supposed he could have frightened Thorin in any measure even if he had been bearing an actual blade. After all, Thorin did so delight in telling him it was a wonder he hadn't yet managed to skewer himself, considering the very unskilled manner in which he wielded his little letter opener of a sword. "I am, however, willing to address the problem behind your behaviour."
Thorin lifted his eyebrows. "Really, now."
"Really." No, he was not backing down, not from this. "Kíli told me that brushing should help you be less itchy and thus less irritable, but you are apparently terrible about doing that for yourself, so I'm offering to help with that."
Thorin scratched at his chest as though simply talking about it was reminding him of the itch, and wow, that was rather distracting. "And did Kíli also mention it's generally considered so intimate, only family or lovers are allowed to do it for each other?"
Oh, like he was going to be scared off that easily. "No, he didn't, but that would explain why he thinks giving Ori a brush would help Fíli's state of mind." It explained a whole lot indeed. "For what it's worth, I don't care. You can decide whether you let me brush you because your nephews occasionally call me uncle or because you'd like me to see you undress, but I'm not leaving until you've been brushed down properly."
For a moment Thorin was quiet, and Bilbo almost expected him to try to protest, still. Then, however, he stepped aside, letting Bilbo into his rooms.
"You don't need to do this," Thorin said even as he closed the door behind Bilbo. "I can take care of myself."
"Oh, I'm sure. Which is why you have been utterly insufferable as of late." Bilbo shook his head. "No more excuses, Thorin. Your dwarves are all going crazy, and if this is the one thing I can do to make you a little more reasonable, I'm definitely going to do it."
"Very well, then." And, as though that was quite enough conversation for now, Thorin started to undress, tossing away clothes until he was standing in front of Bilbo dressed in nothing but his breeches. Which was, of course, when Bilbo first saw Thorin's winter coat.
Fur was really the only word for it. It was the thickest in the middle of Thorin's chest, spreading out from there, growing more sparse along his arms and legs until his feet and hands were pale and bare. At its thickest point it almost resembled the hair on his head, if only much shorter, black and silver and looking like it would be soft to the touch. Bilbo was almost tempted to run his hand through it, except that wasn't why he was here. The brush would be much more efficient, anyway.
With a deep breath, he set to work.
It took him a while, but Thorin stood still, only moving his arms or actual hair out of the way when Bilbo needed to get beneath them and giving no reaction otherwise. For all that neither of them was speaking, Bilbo could almost physically feel a tension growing between them as he moved along Thorin's body, only stopping occasionally to remove the loose hair from the brush. The amount of it was rather shocking, especially as he got to Thorin's back where there was no way the king could have removed any of it himself. The only exception to this was a bare area on his stomach, surrounding an angry pink scar, and Bilbo realised the healers must have shaved the area to access his wound after the battle.
Though he did not hurry, eventually Bilbo had run his brush through all of Thorin's visible fur, leading to a rather sizable pile of loose hair on the floor. For a moment Bilbo merely looked at Thorin, searching his eyes for an answer. Finally, as none seemed to be forthcoming, he licked his lips and decided to dive right in. "Ah. Will you let me finish the job?"
"Are you sure you want to?" Thorin's arms were folded over his chest, but his eyes were almost gentle, now, not defencive at all. "If you ask me to remove the rest of my clothes, I might demand the same of you."
Bilbo lifted his eyebrows. "And if that is what I have wished to do all along?"
"In that case," Thorin's hands reached for the waistband of his breeches, "I hope you're prepared for what follows."
There was more brushing to be done, of course. Bilbo meant it when he said he wanted to finish the job, and he wasn't about to let Thorin turn his attention away from his task. Though then, he was certain he'd need to repeat his task soon enough.
There certainly were plenty of loose hairs all over Thorin's sheets by the time they were done.
*
Bilbo ended up brushing Thorin for the second time later once they had both been cleaned up properly. This brushing took much less time than the first, given that he didn't have to deal with plenty of build-up from Thorin's apparent lack of ability to care for himself. After that, however, his stomach decided to make its displeasure known over being neglected for so long, which led to Thorin demonstrating his occasional brilliance by announcing they were both very much in need of food.
Which, of course, meant facing the rest of the Company, given their new custom of taking dinner together, a custom that hadn't even been broken by the continued annoyance of what seemed to be almost every dwarf in the mountain.
Bilbo wasn't entirely sure what he had expected, in terms of reactions. Not surprise, certainly; he was self-aware enough to know he and Thorin had been dancing around the subject for a while now, and he was certain few could have missed it after spending any significant amount of time around the two of them. Teasing, probably, though how much of that would make it through the general annoyance of the dwarves in his life remained to be seen. He had even suspected there might be some money changing hands, if he knew his friends at all.
What he had absolutely, definitely not expected were tears. From more than one dwarf.
"Oh, I never thought I'd see this day!" Balin seemed unabashed about the tears that were rolling into his beard, rushing to clutch Bilbo so tightly he couldn't breathe until Balin released him to give Thorin the same treatment. "I was certain nobody would see beyond Thorin's outward behaviour and see the dwarf inside!"
"Remind me again why I consider you a friend." Even so, Thorin didn't look very angry as he disentangled himself from Balin. Rather, Bilbo spied a hint of a smile on his face.
"Oh, you are both going to be so very happy!" Glóin was just as open about his tears, shaking Bilbo's hand as though trying to make it come off his body altogether. "You won't regret taking a chance with Thorin, I'm sure of it!"
"You're speaking as though we're already married, instead of just coming to a meal together." Even though he had no doubt everyone was very well aware that he had gone to Thorin's rooms and not showed up for quite a while, never mind that Thorin looked more satisfied than he had in ages. And was holding an arm around him. The arm was something of a give-away, too.
"Eh, we just know our king." Dwalin smirked, though it was a softer look than usual for him. "He's not quite so dishonourable as to parade around his conquest if he wasn't willing to make a commitment of it."
"And you would know all about casual conquests, I'm sure." Oh, Thorin was definitely in a good mood, not reacting to Dwalin's teasing. "For the record, I have every intention of courting Bilbo according to all the customs."
This received quite a few approving murmurs from the dwarves gathered around the table, as well as a raised eyebrow from Bilbo. "And were you planning on telling me about this any time soon?"
Thorin actually had the gall to smile at him. "Well, technically I'm not required to tell you until I give you my first courtship present. At that point you're free to accept or reject me, of course, but I'm rather hoping you will accept me."
"Really, now?" Bilbo couldn't help but tease him, just a bit. "And are you so certain I will?"
"You are the one who said I could choose whether to consider you family or my lover. I wouldn't think you would oppose my wish to make you both."
"That is not quite what I said, but I suppose the sentiment is the same." Bilbo leaned a bit closer before they had to part to take separate seats. "Clearly I will have to accept. You've been so insufferable recently, goodness knows what you would be like if I actually gave you a reason to be glum."
After this he got the chance to focus on food for a while, though there still was the occasional teasing comment or congratulations, particularly as some late arrivals came. It was almost embarrassing how everyone seemed to figure out what had happened just by walking in and taking one gaze at them, though then he supposed it was clear enough from the smile on Thorin's face and the way they kept glancing at each other. That, and Bilbo's hair was probably a downright frightful mess. It really was no wonder they were so obvious to everyone.
Of course, this didn't mean he couldn't make some observations of his own as well. Particularly when Ori arrived quite late, murmuring apologies to his brothers, only for Fíli to follow some time later, smiling for the first time since this whole ridiculous mess had started.
"Say, Dwalin?"
"Aye?" The big warrior seemed a bit distracted by his meal, or perhaps he was just getting itchy. At least he didn't seem too annoyed just yet.
"Earlier, you were basically saying it would be dishonourable for Thorin to make it obvious he took me to bed if he wasn't planning on being serious about it. Is that right?" No, he was not going to be coy about it. He was an adult hobbit, and clearly none of his friends was disapproving terribly much, so he felt safe in speaking openly about it.
"Aye, it is." It was Balin who answered him, apparently recovered from his little outburst by now. "There's no shame in sharing a bed if both are willing, but if one made it obvious with no intention of courting, that could be taken as an insult. It would basically be showing that someone is good enough to take into your bed, yet you do not wish to give them more than that."
"I can see how that would be insulting, yes." Bilbo hummed a bit. "So, does that work in the other direction as well? If you are serious about someone, would it be shameful to hide your involvement with them for a while?"
"And why are you asking this?" Thorin gave him a questioning glance. "I do think it's somewhat late for you to be hiding your agreement with me."
"Oh, I wasn't thinking about us at all." Bilbo shrugged, doing his best to look innocent. "I was just wondering, that's all, since you said it's not necessary for the other party to know about intentions of courting."
"Well, once the couple start courting, that's always public knowledge, what with the braids and such. However, it may take some time for courting gifts to be prepared, so even those with the most honourable intentions may be lovers for a while beforehand." Thorin shrugged. "Some choose to make their intentions clear before the formal courting period, others do not. There's no particular fault in either, as long as there's no other trouble in the matter."
"That's good to hear." Bilbo nodded, well aware that quite a few dwarves were listening curiously to their conversation. "I would quite hate to think that Fíli was being dishonourable."
This prompted poor Fíli to almost choke on the ale he was sipping at the moment, with Kíli coming to his rescue to beat his back. Everyone seemed to be staring either at him or at Bilbo all of a sudden, Thorin more intently than the rest. "Whatever do you mean?"
"It's just, I happen to suspect that Fíli has formal courtship in mind, he certainly has been sighing longingly all winter." Bilbo primly ate another forkful of his meal before adding, "And while I have now been informed that you lot are, essentially, shedding all over the place, I find it rather unlikely Fíli would have ended up with a strand of red hair stuck in his beard of all places by accident."
This prompted an absolute uproar, with shouting and jeering by most everyone. Bilbo was afraid weapons might be drawn when Nori realised the exact shade of red in the errant hair, except this was when Ori stood up to stand his ground against his brother, with all the courage of one who had faced a dragon and survived. Fíli kept throwing Bilbo dirty looks whenever he had a moment to spare, but he ignored them. Certainly he was angry with Bilbo for pointing this out, but someone would have noticed before the meal was over, and Bilbo had rather hoped his way of raising the subject would remind everyone that nothing actually dishonourable was going on.
"You can still say no, you know," Thorin murmured as another round started, leaning closer to him to be heard over the clamour of voices. "I would mourn my loss to be sure, but I would not fault you for not wanting to tie yourself to this lot for all your life."
"Oh, no I can't," Bilbo snorted. "I lost any chance of escape the moment it was clear you would survive your injuries." Which was, he decided, not entirely a bad thing.
Perhaps, he mused, he had made the only choice that mattered when he signed a particular contract.