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Bilbo grabbed a tankard of ale from a passing waiter and looked around for his friends in the flickering light of the torches, spotting them seated around a heavy wooden table in the corner. He weaved his way through the crowd, yelling to be heard above the din, “Excuse me!” and “Coming through!”. He managed to get to the table with most of the ale intact, and sat down next to Kili, who was sprawled over the table, the picture of despair. Or drunkenness. Fili was massaging Kili’s neck gently, and Ori was patting his shoulder.
“What’s up with him?” Bilbo asked.
“Solstice.” Fili answered absently, eyeing a young dwarrowdam standing alone in a corner.
“But that’s two months away.”
Kili lifted his head and wailed, “She’s gone!”
“Who? Tauriel?” Bilbo took one long gulp of ale and set the flagon down.
Ori nodded, “It’s Elvish tradition to spend the first solstice after the wedding with their own families. Princess Tauriel had to leave before the roads became impassable. She’ll only be back after the thaw.”
“Hey, how come she’s Princess Tauriel while I’m just Kili?”
“Cause you’re an idiot.” Ori patted Kili’s arm.
“That’s true,” Kili mumbled. “Three months! How will I live?”
Bilbo rolled his eyes. “Oh come on!” Kili was a royal pain in the behind when he got drunk.
“You don’t understand, Bilbo! Love hurts!”
The image of a certain smiling dwarf king passed through Bilbo’s mind. He muttered under his breath, “You’re telling me”.
Kili raised his head. “What was that?”
“Nothing. Do go back to your dramatics.” Bilbo took another swig of ale, “This is great. Beautifully chilled, too.”
Kili grumbled, “Of course it’s chilled! It’s winter! My bed will be cold all winter, like this beer.” His voice broke convincingly on the last sentence.
Ori said drily, “You do realise the rest of us are single? If we can sleep in cold beds all winter, so can you!”
“But you don’t understand! It’s different!” Kili tried to raise himself, but flopped down on Bilbo’s shoulder instead, almost tipping his tankard over. Bilbo rescued it deftly and lowered Kili gently onto the table. “And how is it different? Pray tell.”
“It’s different cause I’m in looooove!”
“Talking of love,” Fili interjected, clearly bored with all the whining, “This little Durin is going hunting. Cheer up, crybaby!,” he swatted his brother on the head, got up, and swaggered off toward the curvaceous dwarrowdam that had caught his eye.
Bilbo looked up, shaking his head at the dwarrowdam giggling and tossing her dark braids as the Golden Prince’s charm began to cast its usual magic.
He turned to Ori, “That boy needs to find someone permanent. A little bit more permanent, I should say.”
Kili moaned. “I have a headache.”
“You should have thought of that before drinking seven tankards straight.”
“That’s a lot of tankards!”
“And that’s not counting the whiskies. Our lad is going to be a mess on Solstice night.”
“You two are no fun.” Kili got up with an effort, his eyes a little glassy. “I’m going home.”
“Not alone, you’re not! Come on, Bilbo. Let’s put the little princeling to bed.”
Bilbo drained the tankard and put it down. “All right. Can’t have him falling off a walkway and hitting anyone important.”
“Bilboooo. Oriiiiiiiiiii. Why are you mean to me?” Kili sang dolefully and tunelessly.
Bilbo took one of Kili’s arms and put it around his shoulder, while Ori did the same on the other side. Supporting Kili between them, they made their way through the crowd to the door. The crowd parted easily, probably because Kili had started singing a bawdy song rather loudly.
But Kili fell silent as they exited the hall, and made their way down the corridor to the royal chambers.
“What do dwarrows do on Solstice night anyway?”
“Party, of course. We sing, dance, eat and drink to celebrate the passing of the year. What do hobbits do?” Ori asked.
“The same. We have games as well – riddle games and conkers, and card games, and passing the parcel.”
“Oh we have games too, but they’re a bit more – active, shall I say?”
Bilbo giggled and adjusted Kili’s arm to prevent him falling backward. “I bet they are. Oh and we dress for Solstice. New clothes, and glitter crowns!”
“Glitter crowns? That sounds like something down our street.”
Kili groaned and started sliding down. Ori said sharply, “Kili! Wake up!”
Bilbo gave Kili a shake and tried to prop him up, “Ugh he’s so heavy!”
But thankfully Kili seemed to come awake a little and started to move his feet again.
“Glitter crowns are fun – you make them from thick paper, and you color them silver and then you stick little silver sequins all over them. And sometimes you stick on semi-precious stones. Some people even hang earrings and pendants on them. They look so pretty,” Bilbo said reminiscently.
“You miss them, don’t you?”
“Yes, a bit. But if I went to the Shire I’d miss all of you,” Bilbo said a little mistily, with a lump in his throat. There was no way he was going to leave Erebor, with Thorin having come back from near-death just a few months ago. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t going to leave Erebor at all, unless Thorin got married, and then he would have to leave because he simply wouldn’t be able to bear it.
“Some more than others, I presume?” Ori said drily.
Bilbo looked at him questioningly from under Kili’s arm. But Ori just grinned.
The royal chambers loomed ahead. The guards took one look at Kili and let them through with stoically neutral expressions.
Ori and Bilbo giggled as they dragged Kili the last few steps to his room, then dumped him on the bed.
“Bilbooooo! Don’t leave meeeeeee! I looooooooooooove you!”
“Mahal! He’s started again. Can we leave him like this?”
“Hmmm… let’s stay till he falls asleep. And prop him up, will you? Heaven knows I don’t have the muscle to pick him up.”
Ori grinned, then easily picked Kili up and propped him up on pillows so that he wouldn’t choke in the night.
Kili moaned, lay back, and started snoring.
“Poor boy. He makes it sound so dramatic, but he really does miss Tauriel. They love each other very much. Who would have thought Thorin would have agreed to the marriage?”
“If you ask me, he’s rethinking his stance on inter-species weddings.” Ori lifted one eyebrow, then brought it down slowly.
Bilbo stared at him, “Ok. Out with it. Why are you leering at me?”
“Nothing, nothing.,” Ori quickly changed the subject, “So tell me, are these glitter crowns only made of silver?”
“No, there are golden crowns as well, but those are special. Only used for special circumstances, you know. We don’t really use golden ones, unless… well, as I said, special circumstances. It’s usually just silver. And they look very pretty.”
“You’re such a strange one, Bilbo Baggins. You turn up your nose at the gold in the mountain, and rhapsodise about glitter!”
Bilbo sulked, “Glitter is more fun.”
Ori giggled, “I bet it is. Shall we go?”
And the two friends left the room, carefully closing the door behind them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Thorin?”
“Huh?” Thorin Oakenshield, King of Erebor, woke up and rubbed his eyes with callused hands. “Balin? What time is it?”
“Eleven bells. You should go to bed.”
Thorin turned to see Ori behind Balin, “What are you doing here, Ori? You should be at the party, with Bilbo.”
Ori said, “Bilbo’s gone to bed.”
Thorin waved his hand, “Go back to the party, lad.”
“I came to bring you this.” And Ori laid two scrolls down before Thorin. “Your speech, for tomorrow’s Winter Closure ceremony.”
Thorin took the scrolls and motioned for Balin and Ori to sit down. He read through the scrolls and looked up, smiling, “This is really good. Thank you, Ori! You’ve saved me hours of head-scratching.”
Balin grinned at Ori, then turned to Thorin, “The boy’s having a crisis of conscience.”
Ori cuffed Balin on the arm, “I didn’t say that!”
Balin ruffled Ori’s hair. “But you were, weren’t you?”
Thorin grinned to see the deep affection between the two brainiacs.
“Well,” Thorin put down the scrolls. “How may I help?”
Ori smiled, “It’s just that Bilbo said something about the Solstice and I thought it might help.”
“Help with what?”
“Your courting, laddie.” Balin chuckled.
Thorin turned in his chair.
“Although I don’t know why you need any help. He’s accepted all your gifts, hasn’t he?”
Thorin rubbed his jaw. “Yes, but I just can’t get him alone for any actual courting. He runs off whenever I try.”
Ori said, “Err… I don’t think he knows exactly what the gifts are for.”
“What? Do you mean to say no one told him?”
Thorin scratched his head. “I thought he knew. He knows so much about us, and he spends half his time in the library…”
“So, basically you were too chicken to talk to him.”
Thorin shook his head thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t say “chicken” exactly.”
“Wild boar, then.”
“Umm..”
Ori broke in, “But this will help, I’m positive. It’s a lovely little Hobbit custom that Bilbo misses. He’ll be so happy and grateful, even a wild boar should be able to get him alone.”
Thorin waggled a finger at him. “You're spending entirely too much time with my nephews. But you have a point. So tell me all.”
Ori and Balin drew nearer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two months later...
“Put me down, you lout, you’re drunk!” Bilbo yelled from his perch on Dwalin’s shoulders, clinging on to Dwalin’s shirt collar for dear life. Heaven knew Dwalin didn’t have any hair to grab. This Solstice party was turning out to be more rowdy than any of the parties he remembered in the Shire!
“Hang on, laddie! We’re going for a run!”
Dwalin lumbered around the huge table, laughing uproariously as Bilbo swayed dangerously and held on for dear life.
“Let me off! Bofur help!” Bilbo yelled but Bofur was arm-wrestling Nori and didn’t hear him. Fili and Kili sat in one corner, several empty glasses lying around them. Dori and Balin were talking quietly. Bifur and Bombur were having an animated conversation in Iglishmek, and Oin and Gloin were laughing loudly and thumping each other on the back.
Wait a minute. Where was Thorin? He turned his head to look around the room, but lost his grip on Dwalin’s shirt. But before he could fall, strong, muscular arms went around his middle and he was plucked from Dwalin’s shoulders and set down gently on the ground.
“Having a good time, Master Burglar?”
Bilbo blushed a bright red, “Your entire company is drunk, Thorin Oakenshield!”
“Not all of them, surely.” Thorin, dressed in festive blue, with silver beads in his hair, looked entirely too handsome for Bilbo’s peace of mind. And he smelled wonderful, a mix of sandalwood, paper and…glue?
Bilbo shook his head dolefully, “Well, Dwalin certainly is. And I think Kili is crying in a corner.”
“Hmm… that won’t do, will it? Let’s cheer everyone up with a Hobbit tradition, shall we?”
“But we already had cake, remember?” Bilbo said, perplexed.
“And very lovely cake it was, too. But this is another Hobbit tradition. Ori! Can you bring the bag?”
“Rightaway!” Ori sang out and brought up a large shapeless velvet bag.
Ah. Ori was here. Now the company was complete. But what in the world were Thorin and Ori up to?
Thorin took something out of the bag that glittered in the light of the gas lamps.
Bilbo’s hand flew up to cover his mouth. He gasped, “Glitter crowns!”
Ori grinned. “We thought they would make you happy, Bilbo! There’s enough for all of us!”
Bilbo grinned and looked around as all of his friends, one by one, put on the shining crowns, even Kili, who gave Bilbo a teary thumbs-up.
“May I?” Thorin asked. Bilbo nodded and Thorin placed a glitter crown on Bilbo’s head. Bilbo reached up to feel the crown and grinned.
“Put mine on for me?” Thorin asked.
“Of course.”
Thorin bent down, and Bilbo gently put the crown on Thorin’s head.
His heart almost stopped at the expression in Thorin’s eyes. Thorin stepped forward, bent down and whispered in Bilbo’s ear, “You look very handsome, my burglar.”
Bilbo blushed and shook his head; it was really hard to form words when Thorin looked at you like that.
“See for yourself.” Thorin took him by the hand and led him away from the table to an alcove with a large full-size mirror.
Bilbo looked at Thorin’s reflection instead. Bilbo thought Thorin looked ethereally beautiful, the flickering light of the gas lamps playing over his fine features and reflecting back from the glitter crown.
Bilbo smiled at his own reflection. Somehow in this light, he didn’t look too bad himself. In fact, side by side, wearing golden glitter crowns like a pair of grooms, they looked pretty good together.
Golden crowns?
Bilbo grabbed the crown off his head and peered at it. “Thorin!”
“Yes, Bilbo?”
“Is this crown golden?”
“Yes. You did say golden crowns were special and…”
“And yours as well?”
“Well, I am the King, after all.” Thorin’s voice wavered uncertainly.
The crown dropped from Bilbo’s nerveless fingers. He swayed, and Thorin caught him.
“Bilbo! Are you all right?” Thorin asked frantically. “Should I call Oin?”
“No.” Bilbo shook his head. “No, please. I have to go. I have to go.”
His throat tight with unshed tears, Bilbo ran.
He ran to his rooms, closed the front door, and burst into tears.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bilbo lay curled up on his bed in a fetal position. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. Why him, Yavanna? Why him? What had he ever done to deserve this? His most cherished dream had transformed into his worst nightmare.
Knock. Knock.
Bilbo pulled his quilt over his head. They would go away if he didn’t reply. He didn’t want to talk to anyone.
“Bilbo! Please! Open the door!”
Thorin. Of course it would be Thorin.
Bilbo lifted his head and yelled “Go away!”
There was silence for a moment, then Thorin said, “Are you all right?”
“No.”
“Let me in Bilbo! I’m getting worried.”
“No!”
“I suppose I could break the door down.” Thorin said casually.
Bilbo got up. He stormed over to the door and opened it. Thorin, who had been pressed up against the door, jumped backward.
“Don’t you dare! This is all your fault!”
“How? What did I do? This is unreasonable, Bilbo! Let me in, and let’s talk.”
Bilbo let Thorin in, then went back to the bed, curled up on it again, and pulled his quilt over his head.
“Now you’re just being childish.”
“So what if I am?” Bilbo grumped.
“At least tell me what’s wrong. Whatever it is, I swear I’ll make it right.”
Bilbo flung the quilt back and sat up. “Stop talking! Now you’ve just made it worse!”
“All right. If you want me to stop making things worse, then tell me what the problem is! Or I’ll just keep saying the wrong thing.”
Bilbo pursed his lips. But Thorin did have the right to know. After all, this concerned him too. Perhaps. If he chose to be concerned. He could just shrug it off as a mad Hobbitish tradition. Or throw Bilbo out of Erebor.
Bilbo squared his shoulders. “We have a solstice tradition.” He grabbed the end of the quilt and started winding it around his wrist. “We call it winter weddings.”
Thorin waited patiently for him to continue.
Bilbo moved a little and patted the side of the bed. Thorin sat down next to Bilbo, making the bed creak.
Thorin took Bilbo’s hand in his own and held it comfortingly. “Tell me.”
“Well, summer weddings are your normal weddings with a party and food and wine. We usually don’t hold weddings in the winter because the stocks are low. There’s usually not enough food for wedding feasts. But we do hold a feast on the solstice. Thus youngsters who want to marry during the wedding do so on solstice night. It’s the simplest and cheapest way to wed, but is completely binding in the Shire.”
Bilbo wanted to go on, but his voice broke and he covered his face with one arm.
A handkerchief was placed gently in his hand. He dabbed at his eyes.
“Let me guess,” Thorin said gently, “Exchanging golden crowns on solstice night is a binding wedding ritual for Hobbits?”
Bilbo couldn’t stand it anymore. He burst into tears.
Suddenly he felt arms around him and he was pulled against a warm, solid chest. “Shh.. shh.. don’t cry. I won’t hold you to it, if you don’t want to, you know.”
What?
“You won’t?” Bilbo asked tearfully, snuggling into Thorin.
“I swear I didn’t plot any of this, Bilbo. I had no idea.”
“Of course you didn’t plot any of this, Thorin. Why would you?”
“Maybe because I’ve been trying to court you for months and while you have accepted all my courting gifts you haven’t even given me a kiss?”
What? What? What?
Bilbo pulled back, then thumped his own ear and said “Ow!”
“What was that for?”
“My ears aren’t working. I can’t have heard that right.”
Thorin laughed, a deep, rumbling laugh that did something to Bilbo’s insides. “Balin was right. I’m a wild boar.”
Bilbo ignored that strange statement. “You have been courting me?”
“Well yes,” Thorin nodded. “With food, clothing, shelter and song, in fact.” He moved closer till he and Bilbo were sitting side by side on the bed, backs against the headboard. “You did accept them, you know.”
“Umm…” Bilbo tried to remember. “That one time you asked me over for dinner in your room? You cooked that?”
Thorin nodded gravely.
“And the winter clothing that turned up in my room three months ago?”
“I only bought them – I have no skill in tailoring.”
“And these rooms?”
“The rooms were yours anyway, Bilbo. That’s the least Erebor could do. But every piece of furniture here…”
“You made them? I did wonder why they resembled my furniture back in Bag End.”
Thorin nodded and smiled. “Ori showed me his sketches of Bag End. Do you like them?”
“Oh they’re wonderful!” Bilbo impetuously laid a hand on Thorin’s arm.
“I’m glad.” Thorin’s arm slid across Bilbo’s shoulders and Bilbo leaned into Thorin’s warmth.
“Oh!” Bilbo gasped, “All the times you played the harp after dinner? Was that for me?”
Thorin tugged Bilbo even closer. “Always, my burglar. Always.”
But instead of moving closer, Bilbo slapped Thorin on the wrist.
“Ow!”
“Why didn’t you tell me you big lunk?!”
“I thought you knew.” Thorin said simply.
Bilbo shook his head. “So, let me get this straight. The King of Erebor wants to marry me?”
“Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, wants to marry you.”
“Since when?”
“I started seriously thinking of marriage after the battle, when I was recovering from my wounds and you looked after me as if I were yours to cherish. After all, we had won Erebor, and I finally had a home to offer you. But if you ask me when I fell in love with you – that would be the day you defended me from Azog with a letter opener.” Thorin lifted Bilbo’s hand to his lips and kissed it fervently. “I have to confess I didn’t trust you, at first. I’ve seen too much cruelty and evil in the world to trust easily. I was suspicious – I did not know why you were with us. But that day I finally understood. You were not there because of the gold – you were there for us. Our quest for a homeland had struck a chord in you - in your passion for justice. And you were prepared to die for our cause just as much as we were.”
Bilbo clutched Thorin’s hand tightly. “But we didn’t die. We all survived. And now you have your home back.”
Thorin shook his head. “That’s what I thought. But home isn’t Erebor any more, for me. It’s wherever you are.”
“You utter sap.”
Thorin nuzzled Bilbo’s cheek. “Sap? That's a plant metaphor. Is it a good thing?”
“Lucky for you I adore saps.”
“Mmmm…” Thorin didn’t reply. He was too busy kissing Bilbo’s jaw. Bilbo turned his head so that their lips met and they kissed for a long time.
Finally Bilbo pulled back, gasping. He looked at Thorin and giggled, “You look thoroughly debauched.”
“Oh?” Thorin’s hair was mussed and his lips swollen with kissing. There was a very visible hickey on his neck.
Bilbo nodded, then kissed Thorin on the nose. “You probably shouldn’t go out in public like this. Stay here tonight?”
“Here?”
“Why not? Technically we are married.”
Thorin gave a huge grin and pulled Bilbo back into his arms.
---------The End-----------