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It hadn't even been a week since Bilbo was safely within the protective clutches of Thorin's Company when Azog and his own warriors found them again. Bilbo kept his surprise and happiness at the sight of the Pale Orc locked away, knowing that it would be extremely bad if his dwarven fellows knew. But that didn't matter in the end, not when his feet took him to Azog's side when called.
"Come home," The orc cooed, curling his fingers in a calling gesture towards the hobbit. "Come to me, my sweet, my love, my precious prince." And he did. Bilbo snarled and fought the ones who tried to hold him back, even going so far as to draw his elvish sword at them. Fili and Bofur, who had attempted to keep him at his side, drew back in alarm. Surprise flooded their systems and fear followed, for they could tell Bilbo's skill increased somehow. The halfing resisted the urge to laugh in the face of their fright. They probably couldn't fathom the thought of the orcs teaching Bilbo to protect himself.
With the dwarves at bay for the moment, the hobbit ran to Azog's waiting arms, wrapping his own upper limbs around the orc's neck as Azog knelt before him and allowing the creature to bury his nose in the junction of his neck and shoulder. Azog held him close, careful of his hook appendage as he did so. He was distantly aware of the fact that Bilbo had yet to sheathe his sword, though he wrote it off as a defense against the dwarves still among them.
Bilbo felt tears well up and fall down his cheeks, some of which dripped and wet the cold skin of the orc he had grown so fond of. It was strange, he thought, to be able to find love for a creature so foul and wretched as Azog. But even with the undying sparks of definite love, the halfing mused, it wasn't enough to squash the bitter sting of hate and disgust.
"I will always return to you, my king." Bilbo spoke in soothing tones, his breath soft and worm against the orc's ear. "If only to watch as you writhe in pools of your own blood, Azog my love." He freed his sword hand from Azog's arms and raised it up between them, pressing the sharpened point into the orc's leathery skin. He kissed the pale cheek of Azog before applying pressure, sinking the finely crafted blade into flesh.
Pain shot through Azog, all centering and striking out from his heart. He kept Bilbo close, arms still tight around his lovely hobbit, forcing the little one to be covered in the blackness that was orcish blood. The kisses from Bilbo kept him calm, his voice warm and washing over him, letting him ease from life in peace.
"I have loved you, dearest orc king, and hated you, all in equal measure. What you havedone can never be forgotten nor forgiven, no matter the riches you would bestow upon me in hopes of doing so."
The orcs around them were slow on the update, not noticing their king's trouble until his blood painted the ground. As they cried out in alarm the dwarves also took notice, though they kept quiet at Gandalf's insistance. Wait, he posture and gaze said, all will be revealed. The orcish warriors on the other hand howled under the moonlight, some in rage and others in joy, though the dwarves would never know that.
When Bilbo Baggins felt the last beat and breath of life leave Azog, he took the sword from his breast and stepped away, untangling Azog's arms from his person and letting the great body fall to the ground. He was soaked quite thoroughly with blood but he managed to find a relatively clean spot to wipe his sword off with. As he did so, the orc cries around him grew in intensity, causing the dwarves to pick up their arms for battle. They soon saw that there was no need. The number of orcs that rejoyced at their master's death vastly outnumbered those who did not. The enraged were killed swiftly and the happy grinned and bowed at Bilbo's feet, offering thanks and praise to him.
The hobbit sent them off on ther wargs and turned to the dwavrish company, both completely ready and simutaniously unprepared for the discussion of what exactly happened just moments ago.