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1.
Bilbo first notices it when they're stuck on top of the blast carrock.
It's too late in the evening for them to make the potentially perilous journey to the forest floor, and Bilbo had been part of the unanimous agreement to just wait until morning. Thorin hadn't seemed particularly thrilled, but when a ferocious gust of wind almost knocked Ori off the edge of the rock he'd agreed quickly to camping down for the night.
They'd all rummaged through their pockets and what was left of their bags for whatever provisions they'd managed to keep after the fight with the goblins and then the orcs. Fortunately, they found a few wrapped up loafs of bread from inside Nori's jacket, a honey jar that Balin had tucked in his belt, and Bombur had pulled out seven apples from around his girth. The blush on his face as he'd handed them to a frowning Dori had made Bilbo laugh, and he'd shared a smile of amusement with Bofur.
So dinner is made up of two slices of bread slathered in honey with half an apple each, all washed down with the water that Dwalin, Bifur, and Ori had managed to keep.
They're all grouped up together to keep away the chill, and Bilbo’d smiled when Thorin had ushered the youngest of the bunch into the middle to keep them the most warm. Bilbo is a little more on the outside beside Gandalf, even though he'd been pulled over by Dwalin to be included amongst the younger ones. Maybe later he'll huddle into the middle, once he's had some space from stubborn-headed dwarfs. Fili's already said he'll leave a space beside him open.
"They are fond of you, Bilbo," Gandalf says rather slyly, and Bilbo tears his eyes from the crowded bunch of dwarves to look up at the the old wizard with a raised eyebrow, only for Gandalf to smile back down at him with twinkling eyes.
"And what would make you say that?" Bilbo asks cautiously before he takes a bite of his apple half. He's tried to eat as slowly as he can to trick his stomach into thinking he's eaten more than he really has, but the moment he'd taken his first bite of bread he'd grown practically ravenous.
"Because their leader is very fond you," Gandalf explains, and Bilbo's shoulders stiffen in surprise as he stares at Gandalf. "In fact, here he comes now. If you'll excuse me."
Bilbo barely has time to catch Gandalf's pleased smile before he feels someone drop to the ground beside him and clear their throat.
"Master Baggins."
"Thorin," Bilbo greets almost tersely. He's not angry at their leader, just a bit frustrated. He's never known anyone who would willingly attempt to kill themselves all in the name of revenge. He can still see Thorin walking along the fallen tree, the flames licking at his boots and searing the fur on his coat, and Bilbo's nose wrinkles uncomfortably as he tries to remove the image from his mind.
"Have you eaten enough today?" Thorin asks quietly, and the question throws Bilbo for a moment, his apple slice held to his mouth as he blinks at Thorin in surprise.
“Have I-“
“Eaten enough?” Thorin finishes for him, and Bilbo sees that he looks tense as he glances down at his boots. “Only, I know what hobbits are like. You are use to seven meals a day which means that your body has adapted to constantly eating, and your energy levels might be significantly lower if you do not eat enough and-“
“Thorin,” Bilbo interrupts sternly, cutting off Thorin before he could babble his way into a whole. “Why do you care?”
The look that Thorin gives him is one that makes Bilbo’s tummy flip uncertainly. It’s like Bilbo has said something offensive, as Thorin looks like he’s been slapped across the face. Bilbo instantly feels a little bad about sounding so accusing, but he still tilts his chin up and raises an eyebrow at Thorin as he waits in demanding silence for Thorin to reply.
“I…” Thorin starts to say, and for a brief moment Bilbo wonders if Thorin’s going to say something soft and gentle. His eyes are kind, if not a little confused, and his jaw is loose. It’s a different look than what Bilbo is use to, and he finds that he likes the look of a soft and confused Thorin.
“Yes?” he prompts, but it seems to shut down the moment as Thorin’s jaw clenches and his eyes turn hard.
“We need you to keep up,” he practically barks, and Bilbo reels back in shock at the sudden change of mood. “We cannot afford you to lag behind, not when we are this close and there is no doubt an orc pack not far away from us.”
“Glad to know I’m just an inconvenience to you,” Bilbo hisses back automatically, his hands tightening into fists at the way Thorin is talking to him. Especially since only a few hours ago it was Thorin who was dragging him into a hug and extolling his virtues.
Thorin’s nose face twitches as if he feels the words like a physical blow, but Bilbo doesn’t particularly care as he turns his back on the king. Normally he would not act this way, but frankly he is tired and sore and done with dealing with suicidal stupid dwarves.
There’s an uncomfortable silence that falls over Bilbo, and he’s well aware that Thorin has not walked away just yet. He’s standing over Bilbo though, and his shadow covers Bilbo enough to make Bilbo shiver at the feeling of having the dwarf king so close, despite his anger with him.
“You are not an inconvenience,” he hears Thorin murmur quietly behind him, and his back goes ramrod straight at those words. He barely has time to turn around to look at Thorin before suddenly Thorin’s entire meal is being pushed into Bilbo’s hands before the dwarf king is taking off across the top of the rock towards his nephews.
Bilbo stares after him in stunned silence, his hands wrapped around the honeyed bread and his eyes lingering on the bright red tips of Thorin’s ears. Something warm bubbles in his chest, gripping him tightly, and Bilbo wonders what the hell just happened.
…
2.
The second time that Thorin throws Bilbo off is, surprisingly, in Mirkwood. It’s been a few hours now that Bilbo has been walking the halls attempting to find a way out of this blood fortress. He spends his time alternating between cursing the elves and cursing the dwarves, but in every sentence is a curse towards their bloody almighty leader.
He can’t believe that Thorin didn’t take the opportunity to make a deal with the Elven King. Blast all honour and pride, if it had saved Bilbo the hours of worrying and sanity of every other in the Company then Thorin should’ve taken the deal. After all, what was a handful of jewels compared to freedom?
He has to pause for a second as he fingers the ring on his finger, the one keeping him invisible from every elf that walks past, and he wonders if maybe he can’t understand where Thorin is coming from. But he shakes it off. He knows he would’ve given up his gold ring if it had saved everyone else.
Or so he thinks, anyway.
After finding no way out in the upper rooms, and honestly Bilbo has lost all sense of the outside world where up is still under the ground and down can sometimes lead to above the ground, he turns around to make his way back to the dwarves cells. He won’t show himself to them, not until he finds a way out of this hellhole least they give him away with their complete lack of subtlety, but he does enjoy sitting on one of the walkway ledges with them close by. It makes him feel that little bit safer in a kingdom of potential enemies with sharp swords.
He’s silent as he pads along and soon he’s standing amongst the ruckus the dwarves are making. Fili is teasing Kili about some elvish lady, Bilbo thinks he knows the one, while Bofur is trying to encourage the rest of the group into singing one of his ruder songs. So far he’s convinced Gloin, Dwalin, Nori, and Dori to join in while Balin covers his ears and Bifur barks at them in Khuzdul. Bilbo has no doubts that the elves will be down soon to shut them up, so he decides that his break will be short before he slips out of the holding cells. Something about the elves seeming to vaguely know he’s around unnerves him, especially when their eyes turn to him and linger for long moment. Long enough for Bilbo’s heart to crawl into his throat and his body to sweat terribly.
He plants himself down beside Thorin’s cell. It’s the quietest of the lot, considering Thorin is more removed from his Company, and Bilbo sighs quietly as he draws his knees up and curls his arms around them. It’s pleasant to sit down, especially in such a dark area as this where Bilbo can close his eyes and not be disrupted by the constant lamps lit up around the place, even if all around him is the sound of squabbling dwarves.
Bilbo’s always prided himself on how quiet he is when he walks. His mother use to scold him all the time for frightening her while his father would snort with laughter. She use to jump a mile high every time Bilbo spoke, and Bilbo’s father found it uproariously hilarious.
Clearly though, Bilbo’s ability to remain completely quiet doesn’t work on Thorin, as he hears a shuffling on the other side of the bars separating them before a hushed “Bilbo?” is practically whispered in his ear.
Bilbo is beyond thankful that the area around Thorin’s cell is all but pitch black. If Thorin had any better eyes then he could obvious see that, well, that Bilbo isn’t actually there. He considers not replying for a moment, but he swallows back his nervousness and replies.
“Thorin.”
There’s a sigh of relief from Thorin, and Bilbo feels Thorin collapse onto the ground with his back pressed to the bars. He can see in the dark, thanks to the ring, and he glances at Thorin to see the dwarf’s hand sticking through the bars obviously seeking him out.
Silently he reaches out to touch the back of Thorin’s hand, and Thorin starts before he grabs onto Bilbo’s wrist and holds it tightly. After spending so long worried and by himself, Bilbo accepts the friendly touch with relief.
“How did you know I was here?” he asks after a quiet few moments where Thorin does nothing except stroke his fingers over Bilbo’s wrist. It’s calming, and Bilbo relaxes more and more as he watches Thorin’s profile.
“You are not as quiet as you like to think, Master Baggins,” Thorin replies gently, his voice thankfully just as quiet as Bilbo’s. Luckily Thorin seems to have some subtlety about him. “I have heard you multiple times in the last few hours walking past, although I never seem to see you.”
“Then how do you know it’s me?”
“Elves and Hobbits sound very different when they walk,” Thorin mumbles, his hand tightening on Bilbo’s wrist. “I know Nori and Fili have noticed as well. After all, Nori is the one that taught me how to identify different walking patterns, and Fili learnt everything from him as well.”
“What a cosy little family,” Bilbo points out, and Thorin laughs lightly under his breath.
“Indeed. Are you well fed? Have you drunk?” Thorin starts to mother, and Bilbo feels his chest warm up a little at the words. It was frustrating at first, having Thorin constantly ask him the same question, but Balin had explained that it’s just Thorin’s way of showing he cares. Now Bilbo finds it the littlest bit endearing.
“I snuck into the kitchens earlier. The poor cook couldn’t understand why all her berries disappeared. I think the young kitchen hand got the blame.” Bilbo smiles before he sighs and tilts his head back against the wall behind him. “I’m trying to find us an escape, Thorin, but I don’t know if I will be able too.”
“Sneaking thirteen dwarves out underneath Thranduil’s nose is going to be hard,” Thorin agrees, “but if anyone can do it, then you can.”
“You have too much faith in me.”
“I do not believe I have enough.”
Bilbo’s cheeks flush at that comment, and he glances over to see Thorin’s cheeks are a little more red than usual as well. If anything, Bilbo thinks that maybe that sentence wasn’t suppose to come out.
“Thorin-” he starts to say, but he’s interrupted by a flood of light starting to make it’s way down the overhead walkway. Bilbo curses inwardly, his hand jolting back from Thorin’s as he hastens to stand up. He has to get out of there quickly, lest Thorin see that he’s actually invisible and starts to ask questions. Questions that Bilbo won’t have the answer for.
“Wait,” Thorin calls softly as he too scrambles to his feet, and Bilbo has to start backing away from the cell before the light comes any closer. Already it’s almost to light in their corner, enough so that he can see Thorin straining his eyes to try see through the dark for Bilbo’s figure.
“I have to go, otherwise they’ll discover me,” Bilbo mutters quickly, “I will be back. I’ll keep trying, Thorin. I promise. I will get you all out of here.”
He’s about to turn around to disappear back down one of the walkways when Thorin’s hand shoots out from between the gap in the bars and wraps around Bilbo’s fingers.
“Bilbo,” Thorin pants, sounding out of breath and almost desperate. “I trust you. Remember that. I trust you.”
Bilbo’s heart practically wedges itself into his throat as he stands staring at Thorin with wide eyes. Thorin… he trusts him? The words resonate in Bilbo, making his chest warm and his cheeks flush even more.
The clanging of elves on the walkway stirs him out of his daze, and he flips his hand to squeeze Thorin’s. “As I trust you,” he mumbles back, and he manages to just catch Thorin’s sharp intake of breath before he has to turn and scramble away.
…
3.
It’s the third time that Bilbo really starts to realise that maybe Thorin means more than what he simply appears to say.
They’re in Lake-Town when it happens and there’s a wild party being thrown in the local hall. It feels a bit all too much for Bilbo, too be honest. He’s been feeling slightly under the weather ever since Mirkwood, undoubtedly from walking around soaking wet in the cold air. It’s not been the best for his immune system, and when he’d mentioned it to Bofur he’d just laughed it off. It’s clear that dwarves have better immunities than hobbits.
The music is loud, the singing louder, and there’s so much drink on the ground that everyone slips as they walk around. It’s humorous, and Bilbo does crack multiple smiles at the dwarves antics around him, but after a while he grows tired of the celebration and excuses himself.
No one pays attention as he slips from the room, and he’s free to walk the hallways in peace. He manages to find a door leading out of the hall, and when he opens it he’s quiet pleased at what he finds.
It’s a back door, clearly, and there’s only a smattering of houses before there’s nothing but lake stretched out before him. Bilbo makes his way down the first couple of wooden steps in front of him before he plops down. He finds that he likes the way the moon and the lights of the houses reflect off the lake, and he curls his arms around himself as he settles in to just admire his surroundings.
He’s left in delightful silence for a long time, enough time that he tilts his head to the side and starts to nod off. There’s only an occasional sound from blacksmith on the other side of the hall, but it’s distant and sounds just like the blacksmiths back in The Shire that Bilbo use to love watching when he was younger. It feels so peaceful, and Bilbo honestly wouldn’t mind going any further.
Of course, he’s interrupted though by the sudden noise of shoes clomping on the wooden deck followed by something heavy being dropped on his shoulders. It startles him out of his dose, and he glances over in fright to see none other than Thorin sitting down beside him and that it’s a large fur blanket on his shoulders.
“Thorin,” he greets with an almost strangled voice as he shakes away the murky feeling of his thoughts and sits up straighter. The blanket starts to slide off him, but before he can reach it Thorin is already pulling it back up to tuck into Bilbo’s arms.
“Master Baggins,” Thorin greets back warmly, and there’s a small smile on his face when Bilbo reaches up to pull the blanket closer. Thorin’s hands drop away, and a part of Bilbo wants him to put them back. They were so warm and comforting.
“What’re you doing out here?” he asks to distract himself from the thought. Thorin smiles again before he turns out towards the view Bilbo had been admiring.
“I noticed you had disappeared,” he answers, “and I thought to come find you. Are you alright, Master Baggins? Do the ways of humans not sit well with you?”
Bilbo can’t help but laugh. “I can barely tolerate the way of dwarves, Thorin,” Bilbo says cheekily, watching as Thorin’s cheeks darken and he looks slightly offended. “Humans are much worse than dwarves, these ones more than the ones in Bree. I dare say, I’ve been uncomfortable since we step foot in this place.”
Thorin looks contemplative before he bows his head. “I apologise for putting you through this then,” he murmurs quietly, “especially after all you have done for us. If there were any other way then-“
“Oh shush,” Bilbo scolds as he reaches out to gently smack Thorin’s arm. “I don’t mean to complain. If this is what we must do to reclaim Erebor then I will suffer through it. Don’t worry about me. I’m an adult, I can take care of myself.”
Thorin shakes his head fondly, making Bilbo’s tummy roll uncomfortably, before he pats Bilbo’s knee. “I sometimes forget that you do not need protecting, Master Baggins,” he admits, and Bilbo feels complete surprise at that. “You are younger than even Fili and Kili, so I struggle to think of you as an adult. But I have seen the way you have acted upon this journey. While you are not skilled with a blade, you are clever and a silver-tongue.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“I believe it is.”
Bilbo feels completely speechless, and he can’t tear his eyes away from Thorin. Clearly he gets uncomfortable at Bilbo’s constant stare though, as Thorin drops his head once more and starts to play with the ring on his finger. It makes Bilbo’s lips twitch to see Thorin look so nervous, and he hides his face so Thorin won’t see his smitten smile.
His smitten smile?
Bilbo flushes at hearing himself even think that, and he really does duck his head properly so Thorin won’t also see the blush rising on his cheeks.
“Should you not be back at the party?” he manages to mumble after a couple of moments of swallow the lump in his throat.
“They can celebrate without me,” Thorin replies instantly. Bilbo has to glance up at him then in complete surprise.
“But they’re your Company,” Bilbo argues as Thorin looks at him. He knows Thorin can see the remnants of his blush because his eyes linger on Bilbo’s cheeks and there’s a soft smile that appears on Thorin’s face. It makes Bilbo squirm a bit.
“You are part of my Company too,” Thorin points out as he reaches to place a soft hand on Bilbo’s knee. His hand feels so lovely there, and Bilbo has to fight back the feeling to place his hand on top of Thorin’s. He has no idea where these feelings are coming from, but it feels like someone has just hit him over the back of the head with a brick. It’s sudden and overwhelming.
“They-“
“I wish to be here,” Thorin interrupts him, “I find myself appreciating your company, Master Baggins. I find myself appreciating you.”
There’s definitely more to that statement, more feelings than just appreciation, but Bilbo chooses not to read into it as he instead rearranges himself on the steps to sit up straighter. Thorin’s hand slips off his knee, and he sees the little bit of hurt in Thorin’s eyes before he can say anything.
He holds out a corner of his blanket, only for Thorin to stare at it blankly.
“Well, come on then,” he demands as he gestures at Thorin to come closer, “if you’re going to sit out here all night and be miserable with me then you might as well be warm too.”
Thorin looks pleasantly shocked, and Bilbo fights back a smile as Thorin moves closer to him. He slots in just against Bilbo’s side and Bilbo jumps when their thighs press against each other and Thorin’s hand sneaks around him to rest on his hip. Luckily it’s a big enough blanket, and Thorin pulls around him so they’re both curled up together inside the warm cocoon.
It feels wonderful, absolutely wonderful, and Bilbo drops his head to Thorin’s shoulder as they look at the moon, look at the lights of the houses, and watch the gentle waves.
…
4.
It’s the fourth time that Bilbo knows that Thorin is trying to say more, has been for a while now. Just what it he is trying to say, Bilbo doesn’t know, but part of him wishes Thorin is trying to tell Bilbo how much he means to him.
He starts to click this time though when he’s halfway down the hallway to go find Smaug. His heart is pounding, his saliva feels thick and constricting in his mouth, his head is sweaty, and his hands can’t stop fidgeting.
He’s terrified, frankly. He doesn’t know what to expect, he’s horrified at the thought of potentially waking up a fire-breathing dragon, and he has no idea what he can do about it.
His clothes from Lake-Town feel scratchy on his skin and he feels like crawling out of them just to curl up in the corner and hide from the world. He wants to go home, he wants to just leave, and he swears that if Balin shoves the contract under his nose he’ll set it alight.
Hobbit’s weren’t made for this.
“Bilbo!”
It’s Thorin’s voice that echoes down the passageway, and Bilbo turns around to see the dwarf hurrying towards him. They haven’t really spoken since a couple of days ago when they’d bonded outside the hall on the steps. He doesn’t know what to expect at all, but least of all does he expect Thorin to literally scoop Bilbo up into a crushing hug.
“I was worried you had disappeared before I could speak to you,” Thorin mutters in Bilbo’s ear as he clings to him, and Bilbo can’t breathe but he doesn’t care as he hugs Thorin back just as tightly.
“I didn’t know that you wanted to,” Bilbo mumbles as Thorin pulls back and drops Bilbo back onto his feet, “you’ve been so busy relearning these halls that I didn’t think it would matter if I just popped off to go disturb a dragon before dinner.”
Thorin laughs, and it sounds so wonderful to Bilbo’s ears. He drinks in the sound and the joy on Thorin’s face, happy that if this is the last time he sees Thorin then it’s when the dwarf is in his home and feels lighter than air itself. It makes Bilbo’s chest warm, and he reaches out to place a hand on Thorin’s chest.
“Don’t worry about me,” he says, and Thorin’s hand catches his where it rests, “I’ll be okay.”
“You are a hobbit though,” Thorin points out, and he sounds desperate to Bilbo’s ears, “Smaug is a dragon. You are not even big enough to be a toothpick for him, Bilbo.”
“You were the one that wanted me here for this exact reason,” Bilbo shoots back, anger growing in him. He doesn’t pull away, but he stands there confused. Isn’t this the whole purpose of him coming along? To be the one who sneaks in to find the arkenstone?
The look on Thorin’s face, the slightly heartbroken and worried look makes Bilbo wonder if that really is his purpose now.
“I… We cannot lose you, Bilbo,” Thorin stammers, “not now. Not since we have come this far. I have dreamt of Erebor for so long, but not at the risk of your life.”
“Thorin,” Bilbo sighs as he steps closer to cup Thorin’s cheek as his hand flips to tighten his hold on Thorin’s hand, “stop this. I knew the risks when I signed up. You knew the risks when you signed that contract. Just because we like each other now doesn’t make it any different.” He smiles and waits for Thorin to look him in the eyes. “I’m a hobbit, quieter than a mouse. I won’t wake him.”
“And if you do?”
“Well,” Bilbo chuckles, “I expect you to be down there throwing around a sword and attempting to rescue me.”
He manages to startle a laugh from Thorin, despite it being small, and he smiles softly at him before he drops his hands to move away. It’s time to go on, time to face the fire and hope he doesn’t get burned.
“Bilbo,” Thorin calls gently when Bilbo has already taken a few steps away, and Bilbo turns his head over his shoulder to look back at him.
“Thorin,” he replies, enjoying the dwarf’s name on his tongue maybe one last time. He takes the moment to just look at Thorin, and he thinks that maybe if he gets out of this alive then he’ll definitely be telling Thorin about his feelings, even if Thorin hasn’t figured out his own.
“I…” Thorin starts to say, but he trails off and looks so open for once that Bilbo is tempted to turn around and rush back to him.
“Yes?” he presses, hoping this might be it, but it’s obviously not as Thorin’s face closes back up and his face becomes a little strained looking.
“Be careful,” Thorin tells him, and Bilbo can hear the underlying message as he smiles at Thorin and nods his head.
“You too,” he replies before he turns around and walks down the passage. There’s no more time for this, he has a job to do. He can talk to Thorin after this, when everything is less crazy and there’s less chance of dying for all of them.
…
5.
The fifth and final time is when Bilbo really figures out what Thorin is trying to say with so little words.
It throws him for a loop when he does realise it. Especially after all they’ve been through. All this gold sickness, this large battle raging around them, the screaming and lying and deceit. Bilbo’s surprised that Thorin even greets him with happiness when Bilbo rushes up to them on top of Ravenhill with the news of the approaching orc army.
The mess that follows is horrific. Bilbo struggles to breathe as he stands by Thorin and watches as Azog… as Fili. Oh god, the horrific scream that echoes across the frozen water from Kili. It chills Bilbo to the bone as he reaches desperately for Thorin’s hand only to find empty space.
“Thorin!” he yells at the same time as Dwalin and both of them scramble across the snow covered rock toward Thorin.
He barely stops, only pausing to look at the two of them before he demands for them to go back. “Defend the area,” he barks almost madly, and for a second Bilbo thinks the gold madness has come back, “I am going to get the boys. I will be back.”
“Thorin, please,” Bilbo begs, but Thorin shakes his head as he starts to move away. Bilbo shares a glance with Dwalin briefly before he rushes forward again to grab Thorin’s shoulder.
“Bilbo,” Thorin grunts as Bilbo yanks him back, “let me go. Kili could be in danger and Fili might be alive and-“
“Take Dwalin with you,” Bilbo pleads, “god, Thorin, please. Rescuing the boys is more important than protecting this stupid little fort. I can handle it.”
Thorin stares at him and shakes his head. “Do not be stupid,” he hisses, “your skills are not in sword-craft. You will be killed. Dwalin stays with you.”
“But-”
Thorin seems to grow more frustrated as he whirls around to grab Bilbo’s shoulders roughly and shakes him. “Listen to me,” he demands, “you go back. You take Dwalin. You stay put. I will be back soon.”
“The boys are important though!” Bilbo argues, covering Thorin’s hands with his own and squeezing tightly, “dammit, Thorin! Take Dwalin! Rescue the boys!”
“You are important too,” Thorin bellows, and it stuns Bilbo into complete silence, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging half open.
He can’t say anything though as suddenly Thorin is surging forward and forcing him up against the side of a rock as he slams their lips together. It’s a rough and brutal kiss, and Bilbo can taste a hint of blood mixing with the taste of Thorin and he sinks into the feeling as Thorin practically has to hold him up.
It’s ferocious, and when Thorin pulls back Bilbo feels like his legs are jelly and he almost collapses right then and there.
“Please,” Bilbo continues to beg, “please, Thorin.”
But there are hands on his shoulders pulling him back, hands he knows are Dwalin’s, and Thorin just gives him a sad smile before he turns around and sprints off across the ice. Bilbo’s heart goes with him, ripping out of Bilbo’s chest as he feels tears on his cheeks.
“Dwalin,” he starts to say, but Dwalin cuts him off as he pulls him away.
“We have a job to do,” Dwalin mutters as they walk back up the stairs to the incoming horde of orcs. “Come on.”
…
+1.
Walking through the streets of Dale in it’s frantic state makes Bilbo’s heart pound and his head hurt. They’re are lined with dwarves, elves, and humans alike, all draped over rubble and dead bodies. There’s blood seeping into the snow and Bilbo has to tear his eyes away from many horrific sights. Elves work hand in hand with dwarves as they go about trying to aid everyone, and human try their best to keep up. Their loses are many though, and Bilbo doesn’t want to know how many have suffered.
He makes his way back up to the main hall in the town. It’s been newly opened up to allow the king and his two nephews to be healed in relative safety. Bilbo can’t shake the memory of seeing Azog’s blade pierce Thorin’s chest, and he still remembers Dwalin’s scream as he’d rushed to their side across the ice as Bilbo had begs for Thorin not to go.
Dwalin had carried Thorin to Oin, and moments later Bofur had rushed in with a broken Fili in his arms. Somehow the prince was still alive, and Oin had been frantic as he’d tried to cure two patients at once until the red-haired elf had appeared with Kili in her arms and the light-haired elf from the forest at her back.
Bilbo had left as soon as the elvish chanting had begun. He’d walked the streets, helping to locate those in need and closing the eyes who were beyond help. He’d witness some of the elves combing the wounded and easing the suffer of those dying, whether with a sharp slip of a knife or with some kind words. Bilbo had thought it barbaric at first, but had soon accepted that allowing some to linger in pain was just as, if not more so, inhumane.
But now he walks back to the hall with the rising sun on his back. He’s so tired, have spent all night assisting, whether carrying equipment, bodies, or even just simple torches. His bones ache and his head hangs low, but he cannot bear the thought of sleeping.
He enters the hall slowly, pushing the large doors with all his might. It’s quiet in the large room, and he notices that so those from the streets are being pulled in one by one. They line the walls with only small clear spaces between them to walk through, and Bilbo spots Bard hovering at the other end of the hall with his children surrounding him.
They also stand over Fili and Kili, and Bilbo hurries through the hall to stand by them. The female elf is sitting at Kili’s side but her male companion is over with a horde of dwarvish healers. Bilbo thinks its kind, considering that the prince has been raise to be nearly as heartless as his father. He doesn’t share this opinion though as he crouches by Fili’s side and reaches out to place his hand on the boy’s arm.
“Will they be okay?” he asks Bard, hoping he’ll know the answer. Oin is not in sight, and he doesn’t know how the female elf will react if he asks her.
It is her that answers though as she glances up to offer him a watery smile. “They will live,” she tells him softly as she looks back down at Kili with such a heartbroken look that Bilbo’s heart goes out to her, “although with some permanent injuries.”
“Permanent injuries?” Bilbo questions, eyes wide as he drops his gaze to Fili’s legs that are wrapped in so many bandages.
“A limp, and maybe the loss of feeling in his hands,” she continues to say as she gestures at Fili. “He broke so many bones and destroyed so many nerves. He’s lucky to have survived. A rib narrowly missed bending back to tear his heart.” She turns back to Kili and strokes his face softly. “And Kili will struggle to breathe properly again. His lungs were torn by the blade that pierced him. I managed to heal most of his injuries, but he will struggle for a long time, if not ever.”
“Oh boys,” Bilbo whispers as his eyes burn with tears. A hand drops onto his shoulder, and he glances up to see Bard’s mouth in a grim line. Bilbo accepts the comfort, and he glances back to the female elf with another question. “Thorin?” he manages to choke out, and the female elf looks at him once more.
“He is already up,” she tells him. “We tried to stop him, but he refused. His injuries are not as serious as Fili’s. It took only myself and Legolas combining our healing abilities to heal most of his wounds, and although more rest is preferable we are aware that he is stubborn.” She cracks a smile that Bilbo thinks might break her face with how tight it appears. “He is strong. He will make a fine king once completely free of his madness.”
“You know?”
“We cured as much of it as we could,” she explains, “but there are some madnesses that one must shake off themselves.”
Bilbo doesn’t really know what to say to that, so he remains silent as he sits at Fili’s bedside. Bard’s hand remains warm on his shoulder, and it’s not until Bilbo asks a while later where Thorin can be found does Bard remove it.
“He went up the stairs with Balin, the bald dwarf, and Dain,” Bard says as he gestures to a staircase across the room. “I believe they are still up there.”
Bilbo thanks him as he stands slowly. He hadn’t realised how long he’d been crouching, and it takes a while for his legs to regain their blood flow before he starts to walk across the room. The ascent of the stairs takes more out of him than he’d have thought, but he makes it to the top and pushes through into the room he can hear voices in.
Dain, Dwalin, and Balin are all gathered around a table arguing, but they look up when Bilbo walks in. Bilbo expects to be told to leave, so he’s surprised when Dwalin just points to what looks like the door to the balcony while Dain hisses under his breath, “so that’s the hobbit”.
Bilbo doesn’t linger, he just walks straight through the door and finds himself on a balcony facing Erebor. Thorin is there too, and Bilbo takes a second to stare at the dwarven king in relief.
“Thorin,” he whispers in a gush of air, and Thorin turns to him in surprise. Bilbo winces at the cuts and bruises that mar Thorin’s face, and he can’t stop himself from walking forward to touch them gently. Thorin winces as his hand comes up to wrap around Bilbo’s wrist, and Bilbo can’t stop himself from murmuring, “oh Thorin,” under his breath.
“Bilbo,” Thorin mumbles right back, “I am so sorry. Bilbo, I am so sorry.”
“There’s no need to apologise, you giant oaf,” Bilbo replies back as he smiles brightly. Tears are in his eyes, he can feel them starting to drip down his face, but it doesn’t matter as he sees Thorin standing in front of him, alive and well and breathing. He can’t help but let out a little sob as the memory of Thorin lying on those rocks and taking what seemed like his last breath pops into Bilbo’s head, and he feels himself being swept up into a pair of tight arms as Thorin holds him close.
“Do not cry, Little One,” Thorin says affectionately into Bilbo’s hair as Bilbo snakes his arms around Thorin’s chest and refuses to let go. “I am alright, I am alive.”
“You were so stupid,” Bilbo sobs, “I can’t believe… I’m so glad you’re alive. I couldn’t have bared it if you’d… if you’d…”
“I know,” Thorin shushes him as he starts to rock them soothingly on the spot, “I know how you feel. It is okay now. We are alive, we are safe. You and I are both safe.”
Bilbo has to bury his face into the soft furs at Thorin’s shoulders to stop himself from sobbing hysterically. Thankfully it starts to pass the longer he spends in Thorin’s arms. It feels so peaceful to stand here together, Bilbo wrapped up with Thorin, and he feels so many emotions bubbling inside of him waiting to come out.
But eventually they pull away from one another and Bilbo stands still as Thorin regards him before trailing a thumb over a cut on Bilbo’s cheek.
“I almost could have killed you,” Thorin says quietly, “I allowed my madness to over take me and I could have killed you because of it. I tried to throw you from the ramparts, and my stupidity lead to the almost certain death of my sisters-sons. Only the aid of those two elves has allowed them to yet live. I do not deserve-”
“Stop,” Bilbo begs, shaking his head at the words. “Please, Thorin, don’t do this.”
“I have wanted this for years,” Thorin declares as he sweeps his hand out to point at the half destroyed gates of Erebor, “I have wanted nothing but revenge and glory. Never did I think that I would lose love and family along the way.”
“You have not lost anything, Thorin,” Bilbo argues, “your nephews are alive. Your kingdom restored.”
“But at what cost?” Thorin demands, and his eyes look so full of pain that Bilbo just wants to hold him tight and never let go.
“Thorin-”
“I have lost you, Bilbo.”
Bilbo almost laughs at the absurdity as he reaches forward to drag Thorin’s head down. He places a gentle kiss on Thorin’s forehead, able to hear the gasp of surprise at his actions, and he pulls Thorin back until his face is level with Bilbo’s.
“I love you, Thorin Oakenshield,” Bilbo says, “as I know you love me. As I know you have been trying to say since that first night on that bloody big rock. I was blind at first to it all, but Thorin, I love you more than anything in this world.”
Thorin stares at him speechless, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “But how can you-” he starts to say, but Bilbo shakes his head and cuts him off.
“I will never leave you,” he decides then and there with Thorin’s eyes looking into his and the promise of love in the future, “I love you too much for that.”
Thorin’s eyes are filled with tears that makes Bilbo’s chest throb, but this time with happiness, and he can’t help but give a tired laugh as Thorin leans forward until their foreheads are touching.
They don’t say anything else. They just stand with their arms around each other, heads pressed together, and Bilbo tries not to think about anything else that could happen outside of being wrapped up in Thorin Oakenshield.