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Bilbo had learned by now that he didn’t have much of a role at White Council meetings other than to stand at Gandalf’s side and remain unseen. It was a task made all the easier by his handy little golden ring that turned him invisible. Still, it was dreadfully boring to have to listen to petitions from leaders across Arda, considering he might be sent out to help ‘rectify’ certain situations, yet he did not get a voice to give his own opinions. He had tried to sneak out a few times thinking no one would even notice, and it was true that only Lady Galadriel was ever aware of his departure. At least until Saruman had tried to engage with him. The white wizard was definitely displeased with Gandalf’s pet Burglar that day. To make things easier for his godfather, Bilbo refrained from wandering after that.
“It seems next we have King Thorin of Erebor.” Elrond addressed, ever the diplomat.
Despite being invisible, Bilbo felt himself straighten at the announcement. This was the fifth time King Thorin had appeared before the Council, and his striking figure cut quite the impression into the hobbit. Even now as he strode up so regally, his black hair curling down his shoulders, his piercing blue eyes somehow simultaneously commanding respect as well as giving it. Bilbo wished for just a small moment that he could be visible so Thorin could notice him. Just once.
“Your Majesty.” Saruman addressed. “I would spare you the breath and deny your request, again, if I didn’t fear it would be an insult to your person.”
Thorin’s eyes hardened, and Bilbo found himself slipping another blackberry into Saruman’s pocket. Mostly just a bit of fun on his part, but he couldn’t help taking a small amount of satisfaction when the wizard discovered his white robes were stained with berry juices. Last week, it was elderberry.
“The White Council has been most gracious in allowing me the freedom to waste their time yet again.” Thorin replied coolly, making Bilbo hide his giggles. “However, my petition has changed slightly.”
“Oh? How so?” Gandalf questioned curiously.
“We found it.”
Everyone pressed forward. The Arkenstone. The Crown Gem of the dwarves, untapped source of magical potential, lost in the deep caverns of Erebor thanks to a dragon invading the mountain. After the dragon had run the dwarves out of their mountain, Thorin had sought aid from the White Council only to be turned down. He rallied their armies, along with help from the Men of Dale to kill the beast which accidentally locked them out of their mountain home. He asked at that point for a faster way to remove the stones blocking the main entrance, he was denied again. Thorin found a secret entrance unlocked by a key left to him by his deceased father, opening Erebor for the refugees just in time for war to find them from the Gundabad orcs in the north.
Thorin petitioned for help a third time, this time actually receiving aid, but only in the form of Radagast the Brown, a handful of the Eagles of Manwe, and Beorn the Shapeshifter. That particular slight was the loudest Bilbo had ever heard Gandalf argue with Saruman, and he was fully prepared to run off with the grey wizard the moment he gave the order. Instead, Bilbo had plenty of time to sneak all sorts of things in Saruman’s pockets within the time they remained safe and sound in Rivendell. Against all odds though, Thorin and his allies had pushed the orcs back. That led to sorting out the gold tainted by the dragon. Thorin had pressed the White Council for aid at that point citing the dangers of goldsickness to his subjects. Galadriel had made Thorin a special blend that when mixed with water would wash the dragon’s essence from the treasury. But that had been all they could do for him.
Perhaps it would be prevalent to make note at this point that the White Council wasn’t being particularly obtuse. Well, Bilbo was fairly certain Saruman was, but that was what the berries were for. Thorin’s predecessor, Thror son of Dain, was the one who had first discovered the Arkenstone. So overcome with the beauty of the gem and the desire of any who laid eyes on it, he purposely teased the White Council with it by decreeing they could only treat with ‘he who held the Arkenstone’. When the Arkenstone was lost to the dragon, the White Council became unable to help Thorin in his plight for his people. However, if he had the stone now…
“Show it to us, and we may proceed there.” Saruman demanded.
Thorin shifted in place, looking briefly at his advisor who gave a subtle shake of his head. Thorin heaved a deep breath from his nose, his eyes resigned as he spoke.
“It is being held deep in the caverns beneath the city by an unknown creature.”
Silence sat over the council before Elrond chose to break it first, his face grim.
“Your Majesty, you know that our hands are tied in this matter…”
“I know the agreement that stands between us, no matter how much I, Erebor’s current king , wish the terms abolished. I merely thought…after all we have suffered, you might grant us this when we were so close. You would lend us your…Burglar.”
Bilbo perked up as Thorin’s eyes roamed right over him as if attempting to seek him out personally to make his appeal. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest at the idea of actually being about to do something for Thorin and the poor dwarves of Erebor. He didn’t even care about the potential danger of some unknown creature. Bilbo had done plenty of dangerous missions at the behest of the council already. It would be nice to do a mission that he actually agreed with. However, before he could make his agreement known, Saruman stepped in.
“The members of this council are not available for you to pick and choose for whatever you perceive to suit your needs. And let’s not gloss over the fact that you still do not possess the Arkenstone. While sympathetic we may be, we will not go against the direct wishes of the former King of Erebor. After all, there are laws by which we govern even ourselves or we would be no better than the most base of creatures…”
Gandalf interrupted Saruman’s monologuing thanks to Bilbo’s insistent yanking on his grey robes, catching more than a few stray eyes.
“Now, my dear Saruman, you seem to forget that Bil- our Burglar, ” Gandalf corrected after an insistent kick from Bilbo. “Is not a member of the council proper. If he were to offer his services freely…”
“Oh and there’s an idea! Let the invisible hobbit galavant wherever he wishes. You seem to forget Gandalf, that he is governed by the same rules that we all are and when he uses those services for the White Council, he is seen as a tool of our interest, not an individual person.”
Bilbo aggressively stuffed as many blackberries as he could, not just in the pockets but in the hood and billowing sleeves of the arrogant wizard as well. Galadriel, who could somehow see him while invisible, tried to hide her laughter. Thorin, on the other hand, was not amused in the slightest.
“So that’s it then.” He spat. “I’ve appealed to this council time and time again in our greatest need, and you cannot even grant this one favor after all we have suffered?! Then what use are you? A governing body that adheres to outdated laws rather than the needs of the people who seek you out. Rukhstulkh muha barkmêzu! (An orc-smith made your axe!)”
Without even a ‘by your leave’, Thorin turned on his heels marching back the way he came, the spluttering Saruman following him.
“He’s…not wrong.” Gandalf muttered under his breath.
Elrond gave him a pointed look but couldn’t bring himself to argue.
“Hot tempered fool! He expects the world to run at his pace!” Saruman snapped.
“The world does run at his pace.” Galadriel reminded gently. “He’s mortal. A fate none of us can properly appreciate.”
Bilbo felt her eyes upon him even as she spoke.
“Impatience is not a trait of all mortals! However, a legendary warrior falls into his lap to slay a dragon, and he suddenly thinks he is above it all!”
Bilbo was quite done with Saruman’s nonsense by that point. With a tap to Gandalf’s arm and a nod to the fair lady, Bilbo immediately gave chase to the dwarven party. He wasn’t quite sure which hallway to head down when he heard Thorin’s unmistakable voice giving air to his disgruntlement.
“It’s a waste of time and slight to my dignity every time you force me to come here! I’ve had to do everything myself, why did I think this would be any different?”
“Technically Oakenshield has done all the hard work for us, but I understand your point, my King.” The older dwarf with him pointed out.
Thorin rolled his eyes. “In any case, we will have to think of another solution. I can’t very well send Oakenshield down into the bowels of my kingdom after this thing. It’s already proved itself to be quite slippery. It’ll hear him coming a mile away.”
“Perhaps it’s for the best. No one knows anything about this Burglar of the council. It may prove to be more insular than Saruman.”
“I take offense to that.” Bilbo spoke up.
The reactions were instantaneous as the dwarves spun around, hands on the hilts of their swords, their eyes gliding right over the top of Bilbo’s head. His short stature having saved his life many a time while invisible, especially when dealing with the Menfolk.
“Are you the Burglar?” Thorin asked warily.
“I am.” Bilbo answered.
“Unless the council has changed their minds, I have no desire to talk.” Thorin snorted.
Bilbo swallowed thickly, suddenly able to admire the dwarf so much more now that they were feet apart. He bet he could feel the natural warmth dwarves exuded if he took just a couple more steps…
“The council may have made their decision, but I have yet to make mine.”
“I thought you were but a tool of the council’s will?” Thorin mocked.
Bilbo winced, shifting from foot to foot. It wasn’t Thorin’s fault that Saruman had made him cynical.
“Despite what Saruman seems to think, my will is my own. I find it’ll be rather difficult to stop me when I’m invisible anyways.”
Thorin and the older dwarf shared a look.
“That’s a tempting offer, Master Burglar.” The older dwarf stated. “But we wouldn’t be able to handle the fallout with the White Council when it was made apparent you went behind their wishes.”
“And yet if you had the Arkenstone, they would be forced to hear you out properly.”
Another shared look between the dwarves.
“Think it over privately.” Bilbo conceded. “You can let me know your decision before you leave.”
Thorin reached out a hand as if expecting Bilbo to walk away suddenly.
“Wait! How would we find you?”
Bilbo thought carefully on his next words. He wanted to be seen by Thorin, and he might have a way to accomplish such a feat without jeopardizing his alternate identity.
“There is an oak tree in the center of the main courtyard. A hobbit gardener tends to the garden there. He will pass your message along to me.”
Thorin hesitated before nodding. “Very well, we will be there in two days.”
Two days. Bilbo repeated before finally allowing himself to skip away. He would actually get to meet Thorin. The heroic dwarf king of Erebor would know he existed beyond “the Burglar”. Bilbo hurried along to his rooms. After all, he had to decide on what outfit to wear for his meeting with Thorin.
***
The day King Thorin was to meet him, Bilbo could not be dragged out of the garden for any reason. Even Gandalf asking after tea was quickly sent away after making a request for him to drop off a picnic basket. Not that Bilbo had any sort of appetite as he breezed from his azaleas to his daffodils, always returning to the bluebells at the base of the oak tree. He personally transposed the tree from Bag End after losing his parents in the Fell Winter. Bilbo would never be more thankful to the wizard, rescuing him half-starved and frozen, to bring him to Rivendell to live with him. However, Bilbo felt less like a hobbit some days and more like…well, a Burglar. So it was nice to have something with roots to hold him to his own.
The sun rose and fell, and as the fireflies began to dance, Bilbo began to wonder if Thorin was coming at all. He hung his head with a sigh. He can’t say that he blamed him. He would be reluctant to trust someone invisible, someone who’s methods aren’t exactly honorable. He just thought that maybe if Thorin could see the real him…but even that was ridiculous, wasn’t it? After all, love didn’t work like that. Bilbo spun around only to stop short at the tall, burly figure wearing a mask. Bilbo clutched his heart when he realized he recognized the raven beak on the wooden mask. This was Oakenshield.
Oakenshield was the masked dwarven warrior who practically stepped out of legend to defend Erebor at its most dire. Oakenshield was the one to stand before Smaug single-handedly providing enough distraction for Bard Bowman to fire the black arrow that slay the beast. Oakenshield also risked life and limb after Azog had Thorin pinned to drive his blade into the Pale Orc, silencing the threat to Durin’s line forever.
Bilbo had actually met Oakenshield a few times. He learned the warrior had a terrible sense of direction, and he had led him to the White Council’s balcony when Thorin first came to appeal for help. Any time a dwarven entourage came from Erebor, Oakenshield usually traveled with them. His great deeds were enough to see them over the Misties with relative ease. And while the warrior was often uncomfortably quiet, he seemed to have no problem with listening to Bilbo prattle on about anything he could think of to fill the silence.
“You gave me a start!” Bilbo accused when he felt his heart slow back to a normal rhythm. “I suppose you were sent by your king?”
Oakenshield gave a single nod, and Bilbo tried not to display his disappointment too thoroughly.
“Of course. That makes sense. Your king is a busy individual after all. He wouldn’t have time for silly little gardeners like myself. Although you’re a grand warrior! I suppose you have far better things to do than run messages here and there.”
Oakenshield quite vehemently shook his head, making Bilbo tilt his own to the side in question.
“I am always happy to serve my king.” Oakenshield stated in his deep grunt before giving a short bow.
“Oh! Well that’s very admirable of you! You must care for King Thorin greatly to show him so much loyalty.”
Oakenshield seemed to shift from foot to foot before nodding. Bilbo smiled softly, thinking of all the loyalty he would show King Thorin if given the chance. However, this was neither the time or the place for such thoughts.
“Please, sit down. Unless you must return to your lord soon?”
Oakenshield hesitated before gingerly settling himself on the nearby bench. Bilbo plopped himself beside the dwarf having engaged in his company enough to be comfortable. He immediately started talking about all of the flowers and plants he had changed since Oakenshield had last visited. He wasn’t sure if the warrior was actually interested in such things, but Bilbo’s apologies for rambling were always met with insistent head shakes and quiet urges for him to continue. Bilbo figured it must be very lonely when everyone treated you like a legend. He was quite pleased to discover this softer side to Oakenshield and felt very privileged to be able to experience it. He hoped he was becoming a dear friend to him even if his request to maintain correspondence was denied.
“Listen to me rambling on when you had a message to deliver. My apologies.”
The warrior nodded even as his deep voice grumbled. “It was no problem. I like hearing you speak.”
Bilbo gave him a warm smile as he began to dig out his pipe for a nice evening smoke.
“But first, my King has a question about this… Burglar. What can you tell me about him?”
Bilbo chose the wrong time to inhale as he choked on the smoke accidentally filling his lungs.
“The Burglar?” Bilbo repeated. “What makes you think I know anything…?”
Bilbo trailed off at the pointed look he could feel coming from behind that mask. Right, both hobbits and Bilbo was supposed to pass a message to him.
“Well…” Bilbo started, blowing a perfect smoke ring in the air. “He’s had a hard life. The Fell Winter was unkind, to both of us really. I suppose I hadn’t really told you about that, but in any case. Because of his…special ability, Gandalf asked him to serve on the White Council. He was told he would get the chance to help people.”
Bilbo fell quiet after remembering his first mission. He had been so eager to prove himself. So eager to do good. He was going to free some dwarves held captive in the prisons of Tharbad. He had snuck the keys right out from under the guards’ noses, somehow managed to keep the dwarves with their obnoxious boots from making too much noise. Got them all the way to the forest where he was supposed to meet Gandalf, only to find the dwarven guards from Ered Luin awaiting them. Bilbo had literally led them from one prison to a harsher one all because the Firebeards felt it necessary to dispense justice themselves. Bilbo still could hear the howls of ‘ Burglar!’ from the betrayed dwarves in his nightmares. It mattered little when Gandalf tried to placate him with their crimes and how he did the right thing. It never stopped him from feeling…dirty.
Oakenshield cleared his throat. “It sounds like you two are very close.”
More than you realize. Bilbo just smiled and nodded. Things certainly got better, and Bilbo could see how what he did was for the greater good. But perhaps that’s why he wanted this job in particular. Retrieving a sacred gem for the one person in Arda who has earned the right at least tenfold. Oakenshield growled suddenly, jumping to his feet. Bilbo gave him a perplexed look as he seemed to pace in his agitation.
“Oakenshield? Have I misspoken?” Bilbo asked hesitantly, unsure of what exactly that would be.
“No! It’s not your fault. I came here because…” The warrior suddenly stopped, retrieving a small trinket from his pocket. “I confess I had an ulterior motive for meeting with you tonight. I wanted to present you with this.”
He fell to one knee in front of Bilbo presenting the object in his hand. It was a dwarven braid bead. Golden with dwarven runes etched on one side and an acorn on the other, it was not lost on Bilbo what this was. What Oakenshield meant to offer. He felt his ears burning as he carefully looked up into the raven mask of the warrior, barely making out his eyes shining in their sincerity. Bilbo swallowed thickly. Certainly, he has come to appreciate Oakenshield, but he didn’t feel the same way for the quiet dwarf as he did for his passionate king. It wouldn’t be fair. Even if Bilbo never actually got to meet King Thorin.
“Master Oakenshield, this is…”
Without waiting for an answer, he dipped the little bead from his palm into Bilbo’s. The hobbit furrowed his brow as the dwarf closed his fingers over it, but his words placated his ire.
“Please. It’s for you. I now know that your heart belongs to another, but all the same. I hope that you will keep it and remember me fondly even if I never get to braid it in your hair.”
Bilbo felt his heart tearing apart at the seams. He never wanted this. The poor lonely dwarf misinterpreting his regards for friendship as something more. He clutched the bead tightly in his fist, feeling it leave indentions in his palm.
“I’m so sorry.” Bilbo choked out.
Oakenshield’s hands hovered as if wanting to touch but feeling such a thing would be unwarranted.
“Don’t. Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. I’ll treasure your companionship if nothing else.”
Bilbo nodded, unable to lift his eyes past his toes. He didn’t want to see the heartbreak he was causing.
“I’ll go.” Oakenshield stated softly. “Thank you, Bilbo. For your honesty if nothing else.”
Bilbo remained frozen in his curled up state around the burning bead in his palm, listening to Oakenshield’s footsteps fade away. Before he completely left though, the dwarf paused.
“I suppose tell your Burglar, ” He stated, venom leaking into his tone. “That my king will expect him at dawn.”
Tears sprang into Bilbo’s eyes after the dwarf’s departure. What had he done? He didn’t mean for Oakenshield to fall in love with him. To gift him a gorgeous bead to court him. In all his years, Bilbo had never felt more like a Burglar than he did tonight. Stealing someone’s heart unintentionally. What made it worse was the wedge it would place between warrior and king. Bilbo never wanted to come between them, and yet Oakenshield’s departure somehow made that more than obvious that he had. This trip was about to be uncomfortable, but he could be thankful for one thing at least. At least he would be completely invisible.
***
Thorin felt sick. His One, the being his heart sang for was in love with someone else. A Burglar in every sense of the word, and now he was having to travel with said hobbit. Thorin knew deep in his heart, it was his own fault. He could have confessed who he truly was to Bilbo.
Many times he meant to. However, the separation of “king” and “hero” had allowed Thorin to operate around many of the council’s so-called “rules”. For while they had no problem turning down King Thorin of Erebor, when he petitioned as the warrior, Oakenshield, they were quick to give him what he needed. Well maybe not exactly what he needed, but a few extra hands in a war and a basket of herbs were certainly nothing to sneer at.
So he adopted the ruse with very few knowing the truth, and when Oakenshield met Bilbo and felt the Longing, Oakenshield was the one who had to continue pursuing the hobbit. Only to learn, it wasn’t requited. Bilbo was just truly a kind and compassionate being in love with another. A hobbit who escaped the perils of the Fell Winter with him. There was absolutely no other way to interpret the wistful longing in his voice when he spoke of the Burglar’s plight. And when Thorin, in a panic, rushed to present him with his courting bead, Bilbo all but confessed there was another. Someone Thorin now had to travel with as he was the only being who could solve his latest problem. The Burglar was fortunate he was invisible and not subjected to the envy he could feel burning within him.
The hobbit had tried to engage him early in the journey, even asking after Oakenshield. It took everything Thorin had not to bite his head off, and explain that Oakenshield was clearing their way ahead. How dare the little rat! Wanting to rub his victory in Thorin’s face. Balin had to remind him many times to remain cordial considering the Burglar was offering his services freely. The best Thorin could manage were single syllable answers when the painfully inquisitive creature asked about something. Otherwise Balin was left to engage politely with the other being. Something made all the more difficult by his invisibility as they never knew where to look. It put Thorin on edge! And he could honestly say he was never more relieved to see their mountain home.
He left Balin to escort their guest to his own chambers while Thorin marched his way straight to his private study. Blueprints for a garden littered his desk, and it took everything he had not to rip them to shreds. His heart let out a fierce and sudden ache as he sank into his chair, putting his face in his hands. It wasn’t fair. A knock at his door had him back on his feet, his body turned towards the fire the staff had prepared upon his arrival. His quiet ‘enter’ had his sister marching right into the room making herself at home on his divan.
“I take it your petition was a success then?”
Thorin rolled his eyes. Not by any definition of the word. When he expressed this sentiment, Dis pried further forcing him to spill the truth not only about his disastrous meeting with the Council, but also his rejection at the hands of a hobbit gardener. She picked up one of his doodles with a pained grimace.
“I’m so sorry, Thorin.”
He shrugged.
“But you are being pig-headed, I’ll have you know.”
Thorin whirled around, his nostrils flaring. “What did you say?”
She scoffed with an exaggerated eye roll. “This Burglar is risking his standing with his superiors all to help us out of the kindness of his heart, and because your One is in love with him, you’re going to treat him like this? Balin told me that after every attempt at conversation with you on the journey here, the Burglar was left more subdued. You are not painting yourself or our people in a very positive light.”
He wanted to argue, to defend himself and his actions, but he knew deep down she was right. She always was.
“I think you should express your gratitude to him, maybe before he goes down to deal with a dangerous creature that could possibly kill him.”
Was it bad that Thorin kind of hoped he would die? Then Bilbo would be free to love him. His expression must have said it all, because Dis’ dark eyes somehow became softer as well as her tone of voice.
“ Nadad. ”
Thorin shut his eyes tightly against that soft reprimand. So maybe he didn’t want the Burglar to die, and not just because he was their only chance to retrieve the Arkenstone. Maybe in spite of all he did to keep the invisible being at a distance, he had endeared himself to Thorin. His animated curiosity, his jovial stories at the campfire, his warm tone when he spoke. Maybe Thorin could understand exactly how Bilbo fell in love with such a being, and maybe that made it hurt all the worse.
“I will speak to him. Tomorrow as I lead him to the path below the mines. I promise.”
Dis quietly got up, making her way towards him as she gently bumped their foreheads together.
“I love you, and I am so, so sorry things didn’t work out with your gardener.”
“Me too.”
True to his word, Thorin personally went to fetch the Burglar from his room the next day. He kept himself busy by explaining where this creature they had dubbed ‘the Gollum’ seemed to be most active, what he looked like, and advice for how best to deal with it. The Burglar was a silent companion all the while, so much so that Thorin truly feared he was literally talking to himself like the fool he was. However, stopped outside the tunnel entrance, the Burglar finally chose to address him.
“Thank you, Your Majesty. I will do what I can to bring back your gem and restore your power amongst the Council.”
Thorin sighed. Dis’ words from the previous night were even more of an echo alongside the guilt he felt.
“No. Thank you. You are doing me and my kingdom a great service. I’m sorry that I’ve been…unable to express my gratitude properly. I do hope that you succeed not just on behalf of Erebor, but for…those that rely on you as well.”
Thorin really hoped that would be the end of it, already finding it painful to talk about Bilbo even if indirectly. However, before he could take more than a couple of steps away, the Burglar called out once more.
“Can you pass a message to Oakenshield? In case…well in case I don’t see him again?”
Thorin grit his teeth as he felt his body go rigid.
“What could that possibly be?”
The Burglar hesitated, and when he spoke again, his voice was much softer.
“Please tell him…that Bilbo is sorry. He greatly valued their friendship, and he hates…the rift it’s now formed. Between…the two of you, especially.”
Thorin froze. How did he know? How did Bilbo know? Who knew first and told the other, the Burglar or Bilbo? Thorin spun around to meet the gaze of the hobbit who knew his secret only to huff at the sudden remembrance that the Burglar was invisible. Then that was it then. Bilbo somehow must have learned Thorin was Oakenshield, and he still rejected him. Clearly, there was nothing more that he could offer him. Thorin searched the torchlight for any sign that the Burglar was still there, but found none. Perhaps that’s why he allowed himself to speak freely about it for once.
“I valued our friendship too. More than he can possibly know.”
Thorin waited, breath held, for perhaps some sign that his confession was heard, but when there was none, he gave a huff and continued on his way. He had two guards stationed at the entrance to listen for the Burglar and assist him if needed. There was a tug that seemed to be urging Thorin to stay, but unable to figure out why the dwarf could only shake his head and continue on his way.
He waited for three days for the Burglar to emerge from the caverns below. Each day had him more anxious and agitated. In fact, after a particularly obtuse guild meeting had him snapping even more than normal, Balin called an end to the meeting early. With extra hours to now pace in his worry, Thorin stomped back to his study only to be drawn short at the sight that awaited him.
There, sitting on his desk was the Arkenstone. A gem he hadn’t seen in so long, but could never forget its beauty. Yet, that somehow wasn’t what held his attention. Next to it…was his raven mask. The one he wore as Oakenshield.
“You were right about him being a slippery one. Threatened to eat me more than once. I actually had to best him in a game of riddles to get away if you can believe it.”
Thorin whirled around trying to seek out the source of the voice, but finding no one.
“Burglar?”
“I thought you were two different people. You and Oakenshield. I thought I was creating a rift between you and him. That’s what I meant by my words.”
Thorin shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Ah. Well, he certainly gave himself away there then. Except…why would the Burglar possibly think he had anything to do with the situation if he were separate from Oakenshield?
“You see, I thought you…well, I thought Oakenshield had realized that, I’m in love with you. ”
Something deep inside Thorin sang at these words even as his brain struggled to unravel this confusing puzzle. So…the Burglar thought Bilbo created a rift between him and Oakenshield because the Burglar loved him? Well that wouldn’t make any sense unless…
“You’re not the only one who was keeping secrets, Thorin.”
With that, the hobbit suddenly became visible, standing much closer than Thorin had anticipated. His eyes, just as familiar and bright as Thorin saw in his dreams, were shining as he looked up at Thorin. Gauging his reaction. And something in Thorin settled with a feeling of rightness at the golden bead braided to the end of his bronze curls. Thorin released a bark of laughter, for truly what else could he do in such a situation before grabbing Bilbo by the waist and spinning him in a circle.
“You’re the Burglar.” He stated the obvious.
“You’re Oakenshield.” Bilbo confirmed instead.
“You’re wearing my bead.”
“I would have woven it in sooner had I known.”
“I wish to court you, Bilbo Baggins, Burglar of my heart.”
“I had gathered as much.”
Well, there honestly wasn’t anything else to be said after that. So Thorin held him tight, and kissed him as he had always imagined doing, never realizing there could be a more wondrous feeling as Bilbo slid his hands around his neck returning the gesture just as strongly.