Archive of Our Own ^beta

Bilbo Baggins of Bag End proudly calls himself a good hobbit. He isn’t remarkable, but Bungo and Belladonna Baggins didn’t raise a miscreant. He is kind to his neighbors, often exchanging dishes and small gifts with them. He does his best not to be rude, even to strangers who are rude to him. So yes, Bilbo Baggins considers himself a good hobbit.

However, even a good hobbit has his limits, especially when it comes to an egotistical elven prick. Bilbo has been part of the Greenwood company for most of his adult life. His mother, who once worked for an elven company called Rivendell, often spoke of elves as kind, cheerful, and jolly folk, much like the stories of old. Inspired by her tales, Bilbo initially considered joining Rivendell as well. But, in an effort to escape nosy family members in the Shire who constantly ask why he’s still single, he ventured across the Misty Mountains. Far from his mother’s old workplace, he decided Greenwood might be a fresh start. It wasn’t.

His elven coworkers are elitist, looking down on non-elven colleagues. They don’t say anything openly rude or harass him, but their actions speak volumes. They leave him out of conversations, ignore him during events, and generally exclude him from anything unrelated to work. It’s nothing like his mother’s stories. He supposes this is what he gets for assuming all elves are the same. Thankfully, not all of them are like that. Tauriel, a lovely elven woman, befriends him. Sweet, gentle, and endlessly kind, Tauriel always has a story to share. Surprisingly, he also gets along well with the boss’s son, Legolas. Witty, funny, and admittedly a bit of a show-off, Legolas is nothing if not entertaining.

But Thranduil, the boss himself, is another matter entirely. The elf is demeaning, condescending, and unbearably self-important. It’s as if Thranduil truly believes Arda revolves around him. To his credit, he pays well, and the bonuses are excellent, but it’s not worth the stress. Even Bilbo’s elven coworkers grumble about their boss, though never directly to him, of course. Bilbo, with his sharp ears, catches snippets of their complaints. Even Legolas tries to rein his father in on occasion.

The most absurd example of Thranduil’s behavior that Bilbo recalls involves buying out crucial materials. Thranduil actually went out of his way to purchase every available shipment of a rare gemstone, solely to prevent a dwarven company from acquiring it. His reasoning? He still holds a grudge against their CEO’s grandfather, who was once late delivering a commission for Thranduil’s wife’s jewelry due to a weather delay. The sheer level of pettiness is staggering.

The stress of working under Thranduil becomes too much. So when Bilbo receives an email from a family friend, a wizard named Gandalf, offering him a new job, he doesn’t hesitate. The pay is comparable, though Bilbo doesn’t care about that. All that matters is leaving Thranduil far behind. The new workplace happens to be with dwarrows, a notoriously secretive race with a reputation for looking down on others. But if the rumors about elves were wrong, maybe the rumors about dwarrows were too.

Only time will tell.

“So… this is the hobbit? Tell me, Mr. Baggins, Tharkûn has recommended you to me. Do you know why?” Thorin Durin is an imposing figure. His square, bearded jaw, those long raven locks streaked with silver, and his broad shoulders all command attention. He wears a deep blue three-piece suit that perfectly complements the lighter blue of his eyes. As he fixes Bilbo with an intense stare, the hobbit feels the air catch in his throat.

Bilbo is about to answer, but Gandalf, neatly trimmed, with a full beard, and dressed in a gray wool three-piece suit, speaks up first. “Why, because he’s an excellent worker! The way he handled Thranduil’s buyout of Erebor’s ore shipments was brilliant, if I do say so myself.”

Bilbo’s jaw drops as realization dawns on him. Erebor. That’s why the name sounded so familiar, it’s the dwarven company Thranduil had forced him to help undermine. Thorin’s stare, already intense, sharpens into a glare brimming with malice.

“Oh? And here I thought he looked like nothing more than a grocer. Turns out he’s been meddling in my supply lines.” Thorin’s voice drips with disdain as he shifts his glare from Bilbo to Gandalf. “Why did you bring him to my company, knowing his involvement?”

“Because I know him,” Gandalf replies smoothly, unbothered by Thorin’s glare. “Bilbo is trustworthy, brave, and loyal. If you examine the buyout strategy, you’ll notice the acquisitions were inefficient, deliberately so, with loopholes left open for Erebor to recover. He was forced into it by Thranduil. You know the elf. Imagine working for him.”

Thorin’s eyes narrow further, but Gandalf presses on. “Hire him, Thorin. Have I ever led you wrong before?”

Thorin’s glare lingers on Gandalf for a moment, as if he’s contemplating setting the wizard on fire with his gaze. Then it shifts back to Bilbo, who is acutely aware of every bead of sweat forming on his brow. He smiles nervously, positive his nose is twitching, his telltale nervous tic.

After what feels like an eternity, Thorin sighs deeply. “Very well. I only wanted to meet this odd hobbit you’ve recommended, Tharkûn. He’ll be interviewed by my trusted assistant. I’ll leave it to him to decide whether Mr. Baggins is suitable for Erebor.” With that, the imposing dwarf strides away.

The moment Thorin is gone, Bilbo slumps in his chair with a sigh of relief. He turns a sharp glare on Gandalf. “Gandalf! You said in the email this company would be a good fit for me! Yet here I am, feeling like I’m on trial before the chief executive officer himself! Why did you have to bring up the buyout?”

“They would’ve uncovered it during the background check anyway,” Gandalf replies, chuckling as if this is all some amusing game. “Better to get it out in the open now, don’t you think?”

“Wouldn’t it have been better if I explained it?” Bilbo groans, rubbing his temple. “I could’ve worded it far better than you did, you old meddler.” He pulls a small mirror from his pocket to inspect his appearance. “I left Greenwood to get away from a horrible boss, Gandalf. You know that. I’ll give this Thorin the benefit of the doubt, but if things go south, I swear, if a month passes and I’m miserable, I’m packing my bags, going home, and trying to get into Rivendell. My mother still talks to her old boss. I’m sure she could put in a good word for me.”

“Oh, hush.” Gandalf waves dismissively, utterly unconcerned. “You’ll do just fine here. Better than fine, really.” He winks.

Bilbo narrows his eyes and attempts to mimic Thorin’s earlier glare. It only amuses the wizard further, who laughs heartily. With another sigh, Bilbo leans back in his chair, already questioning his decision. He can only hope he hasn’t just leaped out of the oven and into the frying pan.

Thankfully, the interview with Balin, the assistant, isn’t nearly as nerve-wracking as meeting the CEO, Thorin. Bilbo finds Balin to be like a friendly neighborhood grandfather, kind, sweet, and easy to talk to.

“Aye, laddie, seems to me you’ll fit right into the company. Do you have any concerns?” Balin asks, his tone warm and reassuring.

“Thank you. Um… would it be possible to keep my history with Greenwood a secret? Thorin’s response earlier wasn’t exactly great,” Bilbo says with a nervous laugh.

Balin simply smiles. “My apologies, laddie, but I can’t keep this one under wraps. However, no worries. Everyone knew that buyout scheme you were involved in was all show and no real damage.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Honestly, it felt more like a supply chain hiccup than an actual threat. You arranged for key shipments to be purchased, but somehow, every single one ended up delayed just long enough for us to find alternative suppliers.”

Bilbo sighs. “Well, I didn’t actually want to cripple the company’s operations. But I also didn’t want to get fired, so I had to improvise.” Just remembering that particular ‘request’ gives him a headache.

Balin merely chuckles. “Well, everything seems in order. I’ll give you a call when we’ve made a decision. It was a pleasure meeting you.” He extends a hand, and Bilbo shakes it with a smile before getting up and heading out. He feels good about the interview.

Halfway back to his bike, the realization hits him. If he gets accepted, it means having a boss like Thorin.

“Well, at least my coworkers will be kind this time, right?” he mutters, trying to stay optimistic as he rides back to his apartment at Beorn’s Garden. He’s going to need a good book to get his mind off things. Maybe some tea. A full plate of biscuits. And perhaps a baking competition or two.

Days pass, and Bilbo hums as he whisks batter in his kitchen, preparing a fresh batch of cupcakes. That’s when his phone rings.

“Balin?” he answers.

“We look forward to seeing you again,” Balin says. “You’re hired. We start Monday, eight a.m.”

Bilbo grins. “Thank you, Balin. I look forward to working with you.”

As the call ends, he exhales in relief. At least he can already call one of them a friend. During his first days at Greenwood, everyone had looked at him like an ant. Erebor seems to be off to a much better start.

Bilbo’s days at Erebor are lively and never boring. When he first meets his coworkers, they are understandably icy toward him due to his past at a rival company. However, over time, they grow to know him, and he grows to know them. Their demeanor warms so much that he affectionately calls them his dwarrows.

Balin is friendly from the start, always offering advice whenever Bilbo makes a cultural misstep with his dwarven coworkers. His brother, Dwalin, is less welcoming. At first, Bilbo feels like he might get punched in the face if he so much as breathes incorrectly in his presence. However, after several interactions, both good and bad, he somehow ends up on the receiving end of Dwalin’s friendly head pats, despite his protests.

When Bilbo first meets Óin, he is terrified. The dwarf is shouting at him, and his brother Glóin is staring daggers as if Bilbo has done something wrong. It turns out Óin is partially deaf, and that is simply his normal speaking volume. As for Glóin, he isn’t actually glaring, he’s just lost in thought, missing his wife, who is out of town for a friend’s celebration. Once the misunderstanding clears up, Bilbo finds the two brothers quite enjoyable. Óin, to Bilbo’s alarm, has a medical degree that he somehow regularly needs to use in the company. He is also surprisingly witty. Glóin, on the other hand, is a poet, though most of his poems are about his beloved wife and young son, and he never misses a chance to tell stories about them.

Bilbo’s first encounter with Fíli and Kíli is a disaster. While eating peacefully in the company cafeteria, he is suddenly hit with something wet and sloppy, later identified as gruel, because the two dwarrows are in the middle of a food fight. Outraged, Bilbo scolds them for acting like children and wasting food, a grave offense in hobbit culture, then makes them clean up their mess. Later, when he mentions the incident to Balin, he nearly faints upon learning that Fíli and Kíli are the company heirs. He braces himself for retaliation, but instead, the two seem to enjoy his scolding. Rather than avoiding him, they start following him around, playing harmless pranks, not out of malice, but simply because they enjoy being treated as regular coworkers rather than just heirs.

Bilbo meets Ori through their shared love of books. One day, he notices Ori reading a series he is currently enjoying and strikes up a conversation. From then on, they frequently discuss literature and recommend books to each other. Naturally, Ori introduces Bilbo to his older brothers, Nori and Dori, who, in truth, are his cousins, but having been adopted, Ori considers them his real brothers. Dori is delighted to see Ori bonding so closely with someone and quickly becomes a bit of a mother hen. Nori, on the other hand, is… friendly. Too friendly. Bilbo often finds small items of his missing, only to later discover them back in their original place. Eventually, he learns that Nori has a habit of 'borrowing’. In response, Bilbo decides to do the same and one day borrows Nori’s stapler without permission, returning it after use. Instead of being offended, Nori grins and declares Bilbo his best friend.

Bifur terrifies Bilbo at first. The dwarf has a large scar on his head and startles Bilbo one day, causing him to drop a large stack of papers. Bifur’s cousins, the brothers Bofur and Bombur, quickly help him pick everything up, apologizing on Bifur’s behalf. He doesn’t speak much, and he simply stares at Bilbo, making him uneasy. After that, Bilbo often catches Bifur watching him, which unnerves him even more until one day, Bifur finally approaches and asks about hobbit culture. It turns out he is simply curious, having never seen a hobbit before, but he doesn’t know how to ask without seeming impolite. Bilbo happily answers every question, and the two grow close. Naturally, this also means that Bofur and Bombur see them together often and are happy that their usually quiet cousin has found someone he can talk to. In time, Bilbo no longer finds Bifur unsettling or odd.

Nothing however compares to Bilbo’s interactions with Thorin Durin, the CEO of the company. Every time Thorin walks into the room, Bilbo shrinks in on himself, trying to appear smaller and work quietly, which is already easy, considering his size. If Thorin enters a space where Bilbo has the option to leave, such as the cafeteria, he does so without hesitation. The only times he speaks with Thorin are for work-related matters and meetings, and nothing more.

Bilbo must admit: he is avoiding Thorin with all his might. The dwarf intimidates him, and Thorin doesn’t seem to mind dismissing him either. Bilbo is certain Thorin sees him as just another replaceable cog in Erebor’s machine, and he is fine with that as long as he doesn’t get fired. Which is why Bilbo has no idea how he gets himself into this mess.

It is supposed to be a normal meeting, one where they discuss the new jewelry designs for the next product line. Nothing unusual. Dwarrows are master craftsmen, and every piece presented is stunning. Bilbo has come to appreciate their intricate geometric designs, each one a testament to their skill and artistry. That’s why he is surprised to see something different, a beautiful silver necklace featuring lifelike lily-of-the-valley flowers, their bell-shaped pendants elegantly displayed.

Reading the entry, Bilbo notices Bifur’s name as the designer. His notes mention the piece's inspiration, and Bilbo immediately recalls a conversation they once had about flower language. Bifur had told him that dwarrows have their own symbolic gem language, though it is kept secret. In return, Bilbo shared that hobbits do not guard their flower meanings as closely. He explained that lily-of-the-valley symbolizes purity, joy, love, sincerity, happiness, and luck. To gift one means you hold someone dear. Catching Bifur’s eye across the room, Bilbo sees him wink, and he smiles in return.

But then Thorin picks up the necklace, frowning as he examines it. “Too elvish,” he declares, his tone final. “This isn’t a design our company will produce.” He moves on without further discussion, and, unlike the other designs, no one protests.

Bifur’s crestfallen expression makes something inside Bilbo twist. Before he even registers what he is doing, he is on his feet.

“I beg your pardon?” he asks, rather loudly. The room falls into a stunned silence, and all eyes turn to him. When Thorin’s icy blue gaze locks onto him in a glare, Bilbo nearly forgets how to breathe.

“Is there something you’d like to say, Mr. Baggins?” Thorin’s voice is tight, a warning in his tone. Bilbo is about to sit back down, to apologize and let it go, until he remembers Bifur’s defeated look.

“Yes,” he says, forcing his voice not to shake. “I believe your assessment of this design as ‘too elvish’ is incorrect.”

Thorin’s eyes narrow. “It’s flowers. What could possibly be more elvish than that?”

“Flowers do not belong to a single race,” Bilbo counters, his voice gaining confidence. “And limiting our designs to only dwarven aesthetics restricts our clientele.”

Thorin’s expression darkens. “And what exactly is wrong with our current clientele?” he snaps. “Our designs have always been of the highest quality. Our customer base is strong. There is no need to add anything as frivolous as flowers to our brand! I will not allow Erebor to be seen as elvish.”

“Flowers aren’t elvi-” Bilbo starts, but Thorin cuts him off.

“That’s enough! Sit down, Mr. Baggins!” Thorin’s voice booms across the room.

Bilbo, however, feeling rather Tookish, raises his own voice in defiance.

“I will not! I refuse to stand by while Aulë’s children devalue his wife’s work!”

The silence that follows is deafening.

Every dwarf in the room stares at him in shock, Thorin most of all. Dwarrows are a secretive folk, but Bilbo has spent enough time among them to know that they are deeply superstitious. To devalue the craft of a loved one is a grave insult, and to dismiss the work of Yavanna, the wife of their patron Vala, is practically sacrilegious.

Seconds stretch on before Thorin finally takes a deep breath. “Very well, Mr. Baggins. We shall reevaluate this design.”

He turns back to Bifur’s necklace, and Bilbo, feeling thoroughly frazzled, sinks back into his seat. The room stirs as the discussion resumes, this time with the design receiving proper consideration. A few dwarrows glance at Bilbo oddly, though he isn’t sure what to make of it.

Overall, he isn’t sure if he can call this a victory, because now he has Thorin’s full attention, and he has been trying desperately to avoid that.

But when he sees Bifur smiling, Bilbo knows he did the right thing.

After a very long discussion, the dwarrows agreed they will give Bifur’s flower necklace a try but with a minimum amount first to see how well it will be received by the people before they continue to other more conventional designs. Once the meeting is over, Thorin calls Bilbo over to him once everyone walks out of the room. Bilbo takes a deep breath trying to calm his own nerves as he walks over. “Yes sir?”

“Mr. Baggins, because it was your insight that made us see Bifur’s elv- I mean floral design in a different light, I believe it will be the best if you yourself be in charge of marketing such a product,” Thorin says with a tone that suggests to Bilbo that if this fails, he can easily fire him for daring to talk back to him, and has no real confidence on this product.

Bilbo bristles at this and nods, “Very well, sir. I will take this project on,” Bilbo answers with determination and takes the papers for the project off of Thorin’s hand. He will take full accountability for this, and he will do well. He is certain of it. He knows he is being looked down upon all because he is a hobbit but there is no way he is gonna meet his low expectations. He walks away with fury but doesn’t forget his manners and says farewell and closes the door on his way out. Gently. He isn’t a barbarian.

Over the course of the following weeks, Bilbo pours his heart and soul into the upcoming advertisement for Bifur’s work. He pries what he can about dwarrow culture from Balin and Ori, specifically mostly how Yavanna is depicted amongst them and the stories about her. Considering hobbits are considered the children of Yavanna herself they both think it is safe and tell him as much as they can without being too deep about it.

Bilbo takes all he learns into account before he begins his work, going to Bifur a couple of times to show his progress since he feels it is important that the designers should have input on how their work is presented. Bifur thankfully seems to be happy with the direction he is going and rarely gives him a complaint except for one thing.

“Why is the Green Lady beardless?” Bifur asks as Bilbo shows him the advertisement depicting a beautiful hobbit lass with flowers growing out of her hair, wearing his valley of the lily necklace.

“We hobbits typically depict her as one of us. I thought it would be more authentic if I stay close to my roots when I portray her, you know?” Bilbo answers with a smile, happy to be proud of his own culture

Bifur looks at Bilbo who is as smooth as silk except for the top of his head and his large feet for a moment before nodding, “Understandable. I tend to feel disturbed whenever I see Mahal being depicted as a man by the menfolk too. I wish you luck in making Thorin see reason”

Bilbo grumbles at that, “I’ll handle it. Don't worry.” and the hobbit does once he presents how he’ll advertise the product to the masses. Thorin and the rest of the dwarrows stay silent during the meeting. Too silent that Bilbo begins to believe he did everything wrong and everyone is having a laugh without his notice. But when the presentation ends, the questioning begins. Most of it is how Yavanna is depicted by hobbits, why he chose to lean more into flora aesthetics, and if he is sure it isn’t elvish.

Bilbo has to take a deep breath for that and answer each and every question as truthfully as he can while ignoring the condescending tone the dwarrows are giving him. Yes, Yavanna is depicted as a hobbit, the aesthetic chosen because of the Valar in mind, no it isn’t elvish, every other race enjoys flowers. He nearly says everyone except for dwarrows but manages to hold himself back.

Still, aside from minor changes, Thorin gives his approval, though Bilbo is sure it is because he wants to see it crash and burn and not actually believe in it. Still, the hobbit thinks on the positive side of things. Once the result comes in. Thorin can see it truly works.

After the advertisement comes live, Bilbo resumes hiding from Thorin again all because after a week, there has not been a single sale of Bifur’s work. Even with his dwarrows trying to keep his spirits up, he feels like he lost a battle. He was trying to help Bifur but also he tried to prove his worth. Now it seems like he did. Worthless for the company, and easily replaceable.

Which is why he finds himself in the cafeteria eating more than usual, trying to eat his sadness away. He is so engrossed in his own dour mood that he doesn’t notice someone sitting next to him. He jumps when he hears the voice of the very dwarf he is avoiding, “Mr. Baggins.”

“Sir! Um, hello! Good afternoon!” Bilbo laughs nervously as he looks at Thorin wondering if he is here to gloat or something. But Thorin just eats next to him without saying anything. Bilbo tries to calm himself down as he continues to eat too.

“I must thank you, Bilbo,” Thorin suddenly says and Bilbo blinks in surprise

“Um… what for, sir?” the hobbit asks

“For this,” Thorin hands him a report on sales. In a single day, after a week of not a single sale on Bifur’s design, it is completely sold out. “And I must apologize. I deliberately minimized the advertisement of the product believing it would cause us some backlash. But it seems I merely hindered the talent of Bifur, and yours, Mr. Baggins.”

Bilbo’s jaw drops before he smiles happily, “Ah well, it is hard to believe in someone you don’t know so I understand”

“You are kind, Mr. Baggins. Now if you do not mind more work, can I ask you to work more on advertising our non-dwarvish designs from now on?” Thorin requests with a smile

Bilbo’s smile widens as he nods happily, “Of course! I’ll gladly do so!”

After that, Bilbo and Thorin become more cordial with one another. Over time Thorin becomes less guarded against Bilbo and in turn, the hobbit becomes more relaxed. He begins to joke and tease Thorin, enjoying the way Thorin laughs. True they still have some shouting matches between them now and again but they never hold a grudge against one another, and by the end of the day they do come together and solve the problem. Bilbo has no idea how or why, but out of all the dwarrows he knows, he finds himself becoming closer and closer to his boss. Months pass by like this and Bilbo suddenly realizes something. He is falling for his boss. “Oh… Fuck,” he quickly apologizes to the picture of his parents, while cursing Nori’s influence on him.

Bilbo believes whatever he is feeling is going to be gone soon enough like the many past crushes he had before. So he doesn’t say anything and just interacts with Thorin the same way he always has lately. Just friendly interactions, yes.

“You’re into Thorin aren’t you?” Bofur asks all of a sudden during lunch break and Bilbo nearly chokes on his food while the Ur trio look at him expectantly.

“I-uh-what? How did you know?” Bilbo wonders how these three realized it when he is certain he has been making sure all of his interactions with Thorin are normal, nothing changed.

“I didn’t. You just confirmed it,” Bofur grins and Bilbo groans as he realizes he stepped into the trap.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Bilbo glares at Bofur trying to make him swear silence

“May Mahal smite me if I break my oath,”  Bofur casually replies with a grin, and Bilbo sighs in relief. That’s when his phone suddenly gets a ping, and the hobbit takes it out. There, in their group chat is Nori telling everyone that Bilbo has a crush on Thorin and what seems to be a gambling transaction.

Bilbo quickly turns around and there is the middle Ri brother, grinning like a maniac. “Thanks for the extra coin, Bilbo. Knew I could count on you!”

“Delete that immediately!” he yells out and Nori merely laughs

“Relax, Thorin is not in that group chat. He won’t see it and we know how to keep a secret.” Nori merely winks with a mischievous grin

“How about Fíli and Kíli?” Bilbo questions with a deadpan expression

“If they spill, I’m telling Thorin Kíli is dating Tauriel from your old workplace,” Bofur happily answers for Nori. Bilbo remembers meeting Tauriel at a local pub when he was with his dwarrows. At first, they were rather aggressive to the elf lass but when she started complaining about Thranduil with Bilbo they were quick to become friends. Kíli especially.

Bilbo pauses at that before sighing loudly, “Alright, that’ll shut them up”

“So you going to confess?” Bombur asks excitedly with a giddy voice

“If you do, use rose quartz,” Bifur suggests happily, “It has a tamer but more romantic meaning than its floral counterpart”

“Bifur, don’t tell Bilbo about the language of gems.” Balin shakes his head disapprovingly as he sits beside them before grinning. “Wait till they’re married.” At that, everyone cheers and laughs much to Bilbo’s growing embarrassment

“It’s just a crush! It’ll pass!” Bilbo yells out flustered at what is happening to him. “Besides, he and I are never gonna work out. He is my boss and a dwarf. I’m not exactly sporting a luscious beard, right?”

Everyone quickly looks away, confirming Bilbo’s suspicion that he doesn’t look appealing to them at all and he feels more dejected. “Well… I guess you are exotic,” Bofur tries to helpfully ease Bilbo’s worries but that makes the hobbit give him the evil eye

“Dwalin, you know Thorin well, don’t ya? Why not tell Bilbo what’s his type?” Glóin pulls the large dwarf closer who grumbles before looking at the hobbit and sighs.

“Loyal, honorable, and has a willing heart. Those are the traits he likes the most,” Dwalin answers with a straight face, and both Nori and Bofur groan

“Not like that! Is he an ass man or a breast man?” Nori inquires with a wiggle of his eyebrows

“Is he the hammer or the anvil?” Bofur joins in as he too wiggles his eyebrows, and it is such a comical sight since they somehow do it in sync that Bilbo can’t stop himself from snorting a bit

Dwalin glares at the two, trying to burn holes into them, and Bofur and Nori respond with big smiles

“Let’s just say, we support Bilbo if he ever wishes to pursue our great esteemed leader. Am I correct everyone?” Glóin calls out and he is met with a cheer from everyone

“What was that?” Óin asks, fiddling with his hearing aid, and Bilbo groans, knowing their approval means teasing. He can only hope he will be able to keep his sanity in check once this is all done. After all, once this passing fancy blows over, they can go back to their normal lives of just being a happy-go-lucky company of dwarrows and a single hobbit. He can keep himself sane till then.

Bilbo is wrong about his assumptions that the dwarrows would be content with just teasing. No, they didn’t stop there. They begin putting Bilbo and Thorin in situations where they are alone ever since the day they learned of the hobbit’s crush on their CEO.

This is how Bilbo finds himself stuck inside an elevator with Thorin alone. Bilbo knows how tech-savvy and well-maintained every piece of equipment is in Erebor so he knows this isn’t some freak accident. And his biggest proof. That big stupid grin on Fíli and Kíli’s faces when they excused themselves from joining Thorin in the elevator, saying they ‘forgot’ something they needed and they would be catching up to them on the next ride.

Thorin growls in annoyance, and Bilbo feels a tingle up his spine at such noise coming from the dwarf, “I had these elevators checked just a week ago. They must have missed something,” the dwarf grumbles as he takes out his phone and furiously begins to call someone but whoever it is on the other line won’t pick up.

Bilbo places himself in a corner and sits down, hoping it won’t take long till the others think they have had enough and let them leave. They have an important meeting to discuss with Erebor’s affiliates the Iron Hills about a new project after all. “Thorin, do you think we should tell Chief Executive Officer Ironfoot about this incident? I believe we will miss our meeting.”

“No, Balin is already there and will be able to handle our affairs. I’m afraid we’re just going to be late.” Thorin grumbles as he stares at the elevator’s button pads as if it has the key to their release

“Would that be alright?” Bilbo worries about how it will affect their image. Back in Greenwood, any sort of delay would be severe, and a meeting between two CEOs with one being late would be a catastrophe.

“My cousin will understand. Do not worry.” Thorin waves off his concern and Bilbo blinks.

“Cousin?” Bilbo asks out loud

“Yes, Dain Ironfoot is my cousin,” Thorin answers with a proud smile, “We’re close enough that he would name his son after me.”

“Oh wow! Really? I never knew that! This truly is a family business,” Bilbo excitedly replies. Gossip about one’s own family is commonplace back in the Shire and Bilbo finds such conversations to be pleasantly familiar. “I heard most of the dwarrows here are related to the Durins in some shape or form.”

“Ah, that is true. Balin and Dwalin are my cousins, and so are Óin and Glóin. Ori, Nori, and Dori are said to be a long distanced cousins of mine as well but it’s so far back we are uncertain. As for Bofur, Bifur, and Bombur, they have no relations with me aside from being good friends and employees,” Thorin explains with a smile on his face, and Bilbo finds himself smiling as well, enjoying the happy tone in Thorin’s voice.

They stay like that for a long time where Bilbo listens to stories from Thorin of his family and the company shenanigans before he joined, and in return, Bilbo tells stories of his own family and what it was like working with Thranduil.

“We had the event planned for weeks, and then on the last day before the presentation, he decided to change the entire theme all because he saw another company did the same theme last night on social media. The bloody post was three months ago!” Bilbo groans and Thorin laughs at his misfortune

“And here I thought you were a spy for Thranduil at first,” Thorin chuckles and Bilbo smiles happily before pausing when the elevator begins to move again. Bilbo can see his dwarrows all hiding smiles as the elevator opens, only to turn into frowns when they notice no physical evidence of anything change in their relationship. Not even holding hands!

“Tsk, it didn’t work,” Óin clicks his tongue

“What was that?” Thorin asks and Óin begins fiddling with his hearing aid, acting like he didn’t hear his boss. Bilbo sighs knowing this is not going to be a one-time thing

After that first attempt to get them together, the company makes more ridiculous scenarios happen. Including but not all: locking them up together in a room similar to the elevator, inviting them to a get-together only to suddenly say they can’t go so they are alone. One time they somehow manage to pull the ‘there is only one bedroom’ dilemma on them. Yet through it all, Bilbo and Thorin are always nothing more than friends. Which is fine for Bilbo. He is fine with it. Each interaction with Thorin during these scenarios are enjoyable and fun. He does need to get the company to stop it though since it isn’t helping him get over his crush.

Which is why despite saying he will never ever try dating due to his personal belief that the right person will naturally find him like what happened with his own parents, here he is in a cafe for a speed dating event. Even if he doesn’t come out with a date, surely he can find a friend right?

Three hours pass, and Bilbo feels utterly defiled and mocked by the whole experience. While a few pleasant folks attend the event, none seem genuinely interested in him. Most take one look at him, remain cordial out of politeness, but make no real effort to get to know him.

Bilbo isn’t naïve, he knows that, as a hobbit, many people won’t consider an interracial relationship. The cultural differences and the lifespan disparities are complications most wouldn’t want to deal with. He understands that. He expects that.

What he doesn’t expect is the attention he does receive.

Trahald is the only other hobbit at the event, and he is completely delusional.

While Bilbo joins the event in a desperate attempt to rid himself of his lingering crush on Thorin, Trahald comes seeking love. Not just love, destiny.

From the moment they sit down, Trahald fixates on him. He calls Bilbo his Companion , as if it’s some sacred title, speaking with absolute certainty that they are meant to be together. That fate has chosen them. That they should move in together immediately.

It all happens so fast, so intensely, that Bilbo feels a cold spike of fear in his gut. There’s something wrong in Trahald’s gaze, a manic kind of obsession already beginning to take root.

Bilbo wants out.

The moment the event ends, he seeks out the event manager, explaining everything he experienced. To his grim relief, he isn’t the only one who feels this way, others have also raised concerns.

By the time Bilbo leaves, the event manager has already made their decision.

Trahald is banned.

Bilbo exhales, but the unease lingers. Even after leaving the venue, he can’t quite shake the feeling of being watched. He shakes his head believing it’s all in his head and decides to focus on something else. The food at the cafeteria earlier is great but alas, it isn’t enough to fill a hobbit’s stomach so he decides to have an early afternoon tea. Carving some cake he takes out his phone to look for the nearest bakery. Finding one he walks over to it.

There he doesn’t expect to see Thorin sitting down at one of the tables, “Oh, Thorin! Lovely to meet you out here. Do you come here often?”

Thorin turns around and smiles, “Ah, Mr. Baggins, pleasure to see you as well. To answer your question, no I am not a regular here. But my sister and brothers are. They say they make the best chocolate cakes here. I say it’s not real chocolate cake since it’s too sweet.”

“Ah, I’m guessing you’re one of those people who insists dark chocolate is the only type of chocolate then?” Bilbo questions with a chuckle.

“Insists? No. I merely say the truth,” Thorin replies in a serious tone but Bilbo knows the dwarf well enough by now to recognize that mischievous glint in his eyes.

“And they don’t sell any dark chocolate cakes here?” Bilbo wonders out loud and Thorin visibly groans.

“They call it dark chocolate cakes, but when I take a bite it tastes like milk chocolate. I was so excited when I first saw it but when I first brought it, I was disappointed and my day was ruined because of it,” Thorin sighs at the memory and Bilbo chuckles.

“Perhaps one day I’ll make you a real dark chocolate cake,” the hobbit says with a smile.

“I’ll look forward to that day,” Thorin replies with a smile before he hears his name being called out. “Ah, that’s Dís’ cake. I gotta go. Goodbye, Mr. Baggins. I will see you again tomorrow at work.” Thorin waves him goodbye before he goes to the counter to pick up a cake box and walks out of the bakery.

Bilbo waves goodbye as well before he goes to the counter. Since Thorin’s siblings seem to love their chocolate cakes so much, Bilbo decides to buy himself a slice. He also thinks he should buy the fake dark chocolate cake Thorin hated. After ordering, he goes to a table and waits patiently.

Once it arrives Bilbo does find the chocolate cake to be delicious as well as the dark chocolate one but does note while it tasted a tad bitter, it was still too sweet to be considered actual dark chocolate. “I can taste why Thorin would dislike this but it’ll be popular amongst most folks,” he mumbles to himself before leaving.

After finishing his cakes, Bilbo pays and steps out, debating whether to stop by his favorite bookstore to check for new arrivals. But the moment he steps onto the street, that unsettling feeling returns, the distinct sensation of being watched .

He glances around, trying to appear casual, but no one seems to be staring at him. Still, this is the second time today he’s felt it. He takes a steadying breath, forcing himself to stay calm, then makes his way into the crowd. Normally, he avoids busy streets, preferring quieter paths, but right now, he hopes the sea of people will help him disappear. Maybe, if he weaves through enough turns, he can shake off whoever is following him.

He moves quickly, ducking between bustling groups, taking random turns, and choosing the most crowded areas. He doesn’t care if he gets lost, losing them is more important. After what feels like an hour of twisting through unfamiliar streets, Bilbo finally stops in a small plaza, pulling out his phone to check his location. He exhales in relief, by sheer luck, he’s only a few streets away from the bookstore.

Glancing around once more, he sees no one suspicious and relaxes, his steps falling back into a normal rhythm as he makes his way toward the shop.

Then, just as he reaches the entrance, a hand clamps onto his shoulder.

Bilbo gasps as he’s spun around to face Trahald .

"Why are you running away, Precious ?" Trahald purrs, his grip tightening.

Bilbo lets out a nervous laugh, forcing himself to meet the other hobbit’s wild eyes. The manic obsession burning in them makes his stomach churn.

“Trahald! What a-what a surprise,” he stammers, trying to pull back, but Trahald’s fingers dig in harder.

“You didn’t give me your number, Precious ,” Trahald hisses, his breath warm and unpleasantly close.

Bilbo swallows thickly, trying to edge away, his eyes darting around, silently pleading for anyone to notice. “Ah, sorry, I’m in a bit of a hurry, so I should really-”

“Look at me, Precious ! Don’t you dare look away from me!”

Trahald’s screech sends a shiver down Bilbo’s spine. He flinches as the grip on his shoulder turns bruising, and before he can twist free, Trahald yanks at him-

Only to be wrenched away.

A deep, velvety growl rumbles from above him. “Exactly what do you think you’re doing?”

Bilbo barely has time to register the voice before he finds himself pulled against a solid, familiar warmth. He looks up. Thorin .

The dwarf’s strong arm remains securely around Bilbo, shielding him, his stormy blue eyes locked onto Trahald in an ice-cold glare.

“Who are you?” Trahald snarls, but his bravado wavers under Thorin’s piercing gaze. He takes an unconscious step back. “Get away from my Precious !”

Thorin lets out a low chuckle, then leans down, so close Bilbo barely has time to process it before warm lips brush his cheek.

Bilbo freezes. His face burns. His mind short-circuits.

“I don’t recall sharing ,” Thorin murmurs, amusement lacing his voice. “Bilbo is mine .”

Trahald reels back as if struck. His face crumples, and with a shrill, wounded cry, he turns and flees, disappearing into the crowd.

For a brief moment, Bilbo feels a pang of sympathy, then quickly stomps it out, remembering the vice-like grip on his arm and the look in Trahald’s eyes.

“Bilbo,” Thorin’s voice softens, his arm still lightly resting around him. “Are you alright?”

Bilbo exhales, his heart still hammering. “Yeah… I’m fine. Thank you.”

Then his brain catches up.

Thorin kissed me.

His hand flies to his cheek, warmth still lingering there, and suddenly his stomach is swarmed with butterflies.

Noticing this, Thorin steps back, releasing him. “My apologies.” His voice is gentler now, almost hesitant. “My sister used to have trouble with unwanted suitors, and if they wouldn’t take no for an answer, family friends would pretend to be her lover to ward them off. It was that or let things escalate to violence. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“No, no! It’s fine, Thorin.” Bilbo waves his hands, still dazed. “You were just helping.”

“Even so, I did it without asking.” Thorin frowns, then offers a small smile. “At least let me escort you home.”

“But what about Di-”

“My sister will understand.” Thorin’s tone leaves no room for argument. “Come, Bilbo. I want to see you home safely.”

Bilbo doesn’t protest. If anything, he selfishly wants Thorin to stay close.

They walk side by side, Thorin’s presence a comforting weight beside him, though Bilbo resists the urge to lean into him again. The journey feels impossibly short despite the ache in his legs, and before he knows it, they’re standing outside his apartment building. He mumbles a goodbye, watching as Thorin nods and turns to leave.

It isn’t until much later, when Bilbo finds himself in bed, already changed into his pajamas, the sun long gone, that reality hits.

Thorin kissed him.

Thorin called him his.

Then, another realization crashes into him like a falling bookshelf.

This is the first time he’s ever called me by my first name.

Bilbo grabs a pillow and, like a love-struck faunt , squeals into it, rolling onto his back as his heart soars .

“Agh… this isn’t a crush anymore,” he groans, covering his face, giddy beyond reason. “I’m in love with Thorin.”

And there’s no denying it now.

After the incident with Trahald, Bilbo goes straight to the company and addresses them directly. While he appreciates their approval of his romantic interest in their boss, he makes one thing clear: he wants to be the one to propose.

"Valentine’s Day is coming up, and I promise you all, I’ll confess then. So please… stop it with those ‘accidents.’ Are we in agreement?"

“What accidents ?” Bofur asks, all innocence, a too-friendly smile plastered on his face.

Bilbo narrows his eyes. Bofur looks away and starts whistling a jaunty tune.

"I mean it. No more ‘accidents.’ Got it?"

A weak chorus of ‘yes’ follows, sounding suspiciously anemic. Bilbo sighs but decides to take what he can get.

With that settled, he enlists their help. He needs information, everything about Thorin. His likes, dislikes, favorite desserts, dietary restrictions, preferred flavors, anything useful. Once he gathers enough details, he puts his plan into motion.

First, he asks Bombur for help. The dwarf, a fellow lover of the culinary arts, is more than happy to oblige. But where Bombur goes, so do Bofur and Bifur. Then Bombur invites Dori, another skilled cook, who arrives with Ori and Nori in tow.

This is how Bilbo finds himself staring at a full house in his small apartment at Beorn’s Garden.

“Oh wow,” he says, blinking at the unexpected crowd. “I was expecting two guests. I don’t think I made enough cookies.”

“Sorry we invited them unannounced,” Dori says, offering a sheepish smile. “Figured we’d need taste testers.”

Bilbo waves it off. “No, that’s fine. The more opinions we get, the better. Though I will need to buy more ingredients.”

“No worries! We brought some of our own!” Bombur grins and lifts several stuffed grocery bags.

“Us too!” Ori chimes in, carrying an impressive haul despite his smaller frame.

Bilbo raises a brow, partially surprised at Ori’s strength before remembering, he’s a dwarf.

“Figured since you’re cooking for us, we might as well cover the ingredients,” Nori adds with a smirk.

Bilbo chuckles. “Alright, alright. Dori and Bombur can help me in the kitchen. The rest of you can borrow some books or watch a show while we work.”

“Will do!” Bifur calls cheerfully as the group settles in.

Using his connections with Gandalf, Bilbo secures a box of premium cocoa beans from a reputable source, Fangorn Farms. Then the real work begins.

Brownies, mousse, lava cake, truffles, ganache tarts, ice cream, chocolate bark, flourless cake, pudding, chocolate-covered strawberries, the list goes on. Bilbo uses every recipe Dori and Bombur can offer, along with a few he finds online. Then comes the moment of truth: taste testing.

And that’s where the first problem arises.

Bofur, Bifur, Ori, and Nori don’t like dark chocolate. Only Bifur can tolerate the bitterness, but even he’s unsure of its appeal.

“It’s good, but dark chocolate isn’t something I crave ,” Bifur admits, while Bofur, Ori, and Nori chug milk to wash away the taste.

“Do you think we made it too bitter?” Bilbo wonders aloud.

Bombur shakes his head. “Ori and Bofur love sweets, and Nori prefers sour things. They’re not the best judges.”

“I’ll call Dwalin,” Dori says, already dialing. He speaks in rapid Khuzdul, and Bilbo has no idea what’s being said. But judging by how Dwalin arrives with Balin, Óin, and Glóin, it’s safe to assume Dori invited more than just one person.

“I heard you needed help preparing your courting gift, so I brought back up,” Dwalin announces gruffly.

“Courting gift?” Bilbo echoes, confused.

Dwalin frowns, then mutters something to Balin in Khuzdul. The two seem to argue before nodding in agreement.

“In Dwarven culture, it’s proper for a suitor to gift their intended something crafted by their own hand,” Balin explains. “I know you’re following the traditions of Men for Valentine’s Day, but since you’re making this chocolate yourself, it qualifies as a proper courting gift.”

Bilbo had planned to make extra for the others, but now he reconsiders, perhaps only Thorin should receive homemade chocolates.

“I’m not a fan of dark chocolate,” Glóin admits, “but my wife loves it, so I can tell a bad one from a good one. I’ll help.”

“I do love dark chocolate,” Óin chimes in with a grin. “Healthier than the alternatives, too.”

With more experienced taste testers, Bilbo finally gets solid feedback.

His grandmother’s lava cake recipe turns out to be the clear winner, while the chocolate-covered strawberries rank the lowest, not for taste, but because they seem too simple compared to the rest.

“But I grew these strawberries…” Bilbo mumbles, slightly disheartened.

Somehow, that single statement pushes the strawberries higher on the ranking.

Still, with his friends’ help, Bilbo now knows exactly what to make for Thorin’s Valentine’s gift. Looking back, it seems oddly fitting, the lava cake was always his best recipe, and hadn’t he promised Thorin he’d bake him a chocolate cake?

Maybe… this was meant to be.

Bilbo and his dwarrows devise a battle plan with the rest of the company. Since lava cakes are best served fresh, roughly ten minutes after baking, he has a small window of time to get it to Thorin at its peak. Thankfully, Bombur has connections with the cafeteria staff and can secure easy access to the kitchen, while Balin can tweak both Bilbo and Thorin’s schedules to ensure they get a moment alone.

“You guys… I’m pretty sure we’re breaking all sorts of company protocols,” Bilbo says with a laugh as the final plan takes shape.

The response is a round of hearty chuckles.

“Trust us,” Glóin grins, “when it comes to love, we dwarrows are thick-headed enough to challenge our own boss to a death match. Playing around with work schedules? Minor compared to what I did for my wife.”

The others cheer in agreement while Bilbo, both amused and mildly concerned, shakes his head. Still, he can’t deny how grateful he is. Everyone is being so kind and supportive that while he can’t make them homemade chocolates, he’s damn well going to buy the most indulgent, high-quality chocolate he can afford. Normally, that would be reserved for a romantic partner, but since anything not made by his own hands won’t be seen as romantic by dwarrows anyway, he figures he’s in the clear. Besides, they deserve it.

With everything set in motion, Bilbo takes a deep breath. He’s prepared. He has a plan. And come Valentine’s Day, he will confess to Thorin.

Three days before Valentine’s Day, Bilbo prepares the dark chocolate. His ingredients: half a cup of cocoa beans from Fangorn Farms, a tablespoon of cocoa butter, a tablespoon of sugar, and a quarter teaspoon of vanilla extract.

"Alright, let’s get this started," he mutters to himself as he preheats the oven to 250°F (120°C). Once it's ready, he spreads the cocoa beans onto a baking sheet and roasts them for about twenty minutes, stirring occasionally to ensure even roasting. When they’re done, he lets them cool slightly.

"This is kinda fun..." Bilbo muses as he gently rubs the outer shells off the cocoa beans, separating the cocoa nibs into a container.

For the next step, he hesitates. Blender or mortar and pestle? The mortar and pestle would take more effort, and his dedication and feelings could be poured into the process, but the blender would be quicker and result in a finer paste. With a groan, he grabs the mortar and pestle.

Romance is suffering, I suppose.

"My arm..." he whines, grinding the cocoa nibs into a paste. After what feels like an eternity, he melts the cocoa butter and mixes it in, followed by the sugar and vanilla extract. Then, he resumes grinding to get a smoother texture.

"Ugh..." He slumps back, rubbing his sore arm before moving on to tempering the chocolate. He carefully heats it to 110°F (43°C), cools it to 82°F (28°C), then reheats it to 88–90°F (31–32°C) to stabilize it. Finally, he pours the chocolate into a mold and sets it aside to rest for the next three days, just in time for Valentine’s Day.

"Now, time to buy chocolates for the rest of the gang," Bilbo sighs, wiping his hands.

He checks online for the best chocolatiers nearby and ones who can deliver in time. While browsing, he gets a message from Gandalf, happily informing him that Fangorn Farms also produces fine chocolates and asking if he'd like to order some. Bilbo narrows his eyes at the screen. He suspects Gandalf knows him well enough to predict that he planned on making chocolates for everyone, but also knows about dwarven courtship and the importance of handmade gifts.

Sneaky old wizard.

Still, Bilbo thanks him and places an order. Dark chocolate for Dwalin and Óin, milk chocolate for Bofur and Ori, white chocolate for Fíli and Kíli, ruby chocolate for Bifur, semisweet for Nori, unsweetened chocolate for Dori and Bombur, and gianduja chocolate for Balin and Glóin.

With everything settled, he exhales and leans back in his chair. He can already imagine how Valentine’s Day will play out. Hopefully, he thinks, for the best.

Valentine’s Day arrives, and since it’s a Mannish holiday, not everyone in Erebor celebrates it. Bilbo briefly wonders if he’s making a mistake, but then he spots Glóin’s overly decorated cubicle, covered in Valentine’s decorations. Well, some dwarrows must celebrate it, then. Besides, his friends recognized the holiday when they were at his apartment last time. Taking a deep breath, he gathers his resolve and gets to work.

Balin has given him Thorin’s schedule for the day, ensuring Bilbo has ample time to prepare the lava cake and confess his feelings. But first, he has to get through work.

Work in Erebor is never entirely quiet. Despite the dwarrows’ deep love for their craft, and their ability to focus intensely on their individual tasks, they are, at their core, a community. Bilbo isn’t surprised by the constant hum of chatter around him: “Can I borrow this?” “Can someone help me with this?” “Has anyone got a file?” It’s all in Khuzdul, of course, and while Bilbo has picked up a few phrases during his time in Erebor, he’s still not entirely sure what some of the requested items actually are.

The normalcy of the day soothes his nerves, and soon, excitement takes over. He checks the bag filled with chocolates, smiling to himself, hoping he got everything right. When the bell rings for the lunch break, he grabs the bag and heads to his usual table, where his friends are already gathered.

“Thank you all for helping me with this, and for being such good friends. I wanted you to have these,” Bilbo says as he approaches, handing out the chocolates.

Balin and Dwalin are first.

“Oh! Fangorn Farms! Such luxury chocolate, Bilbo!” Balin’s eyes light up as he recognizes the brand.

Dwalin mutters something in Khuzdul as he accepts his chocolate, immediately taking a bite. His cheeks darken as he looks away, making the others chuckle.

Next are Óin and Glóin.

“Dark chocolate, my favorite.” Óin smiles, inspecting his treat.

Glóin grins as he accepts a larger pack. “Ah, you even got some for my son and wife! Thank you, Bilbo!”

“Of course I did! Now for Ori, Nori, and Dori.” Bilbo hands them their chocolates with a grin.

“Oh, thank you! I’m looking forward to eating this!” Ori beams.

“Aww, my favorite! How’d you know?” Nori chuckles, inspecting his.

“Unsweetened chocolate? Perfect for baking! Thank you, Bilbo!” Dori smiles warmly.

Next up are Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur.

“Oh, Bilbo! Ruby chocolate? How’d you know I love these?” Bifur grins, already taking a bite.

“Oh, these are good! Too bad I can only have so much,” Bofur says, happily munching away.

“Oh, these will be perfect for my own Valentine’s preparations for my wife!” Bombur grins, holding up his pack.

“And of course, I can’t forget you two, despite not helping me last time.” Bilbo teases Fíli and Kíli.

“No one told us!” Kíli pouts, but he happily accepts his chocolate.

“Free food? We would have come!” Fíli laughs, taking his own.

Bilbo smiles as he watches his friends enjoy their Valentine’s gifts. Ever since he crossed the Misty Mountains, he has felt alone, but here, with them, it feels like he belongs. He takes a deep breath, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, then gathers himself.

No time for tears now.

With renewed determination, he heads to the cafeteria to prepare Thorin’s gift.

Bilbo greets the cafeteria staff as he enters the kitchen, smiling when they wish him good luck. Taking a deep breath, he immediately gathers his ingredients: the dark chocolate he prepared earlier, a tablespoon of unsalted butter, two tablespoons of all-purpose flour, one tablespoon of sugar, a small egg, half a teaspoon of vanilla extract, and a pinch of salt.

“Alright, let’s get to work,” he murmurs, preheating the oven to 375°F (190°C). He greases a ramekin with butter and dusts it with cocoa powder.

Next, he melts the dark chocolate and butter in the microwave, watching carefully to avoid burning it. “I hope the dark chocolate works well in this lava cake. First time using homemade chocolate for this recipe…” Once it’s fully melted, he sets it aside to cool slightly.

Moving on to the batter, Bilbo mutters, “I hope Thorin likes this,” as he whisks the egg, sugar, vanilla, and salt together until the mixture turns light and airy. He then folds in the melted chocolate before sifting in the flour and stirring until just combined.

“Time to bake.” He pours the batter into the ramekin and slides it into the oven, setting a timer for ten minutes. As he waits, he checks for doneness, edges set but the center still soft, using a toothpick.

“Alright… time to pack it up…” He lets the cake cool for a minute before carefully inverting it onto a plate. A dusting of cocoa powder and a few berries complete the presentation. He places it gently into a small box, wrapping it as neatly as he can.

Just as he finishes, Fíli rushes into the kitchen, looking slightly panicked. “Bilbo, you better hurry. Uncle just got here and is already heading back to his office.”

“What? Oh, that idiot is planning on skipping his break again,” Bilbo groans, rushing to finish wrapping the gift. It’s not as perfect as he hoped, but it’ll have to do. Thanking Fíli, he briskly walks out of the kitchen, only to find Thorin already gone.

Grumbling, he heads straight for Thorin’s office instead. Moment of truth.

Bilbo takes a deep breath before knocking on the door. When he hears a confirmation, he steps inside. Thorin is frowning, his usual look, what Nori jokingly calls a resting bitch face, but this time, Bilbo can tell he’s actually in a bad mood. However, the moment Thorin sees him, his harsh features soften.

“Bilbo, what brings you here?”

Bilbo swallows, his heart pounding so loudly that he wonders if Thorin can hear it, too. He steels himself and holds out the wrapped box. “This is for you. I-”

His smile falters as Thorin’s eyes suddenly sharpen into a glare.

“Thank you, Bilbo. You may leave.”

Bilbo blinks. “But I-”

“Close the door on your way out,” Thorin interrupts, his voice cold and clipped.

Bilbo freezes. That tone. It’s the same one Thorin used back when they barely knew each other, harsh, dismissive, the voice of a king who keeps others at arm’s length. He thought those days were long gone.

“I-I can see that you’re busy… I’ll see myself out.” His voice trembles, but he forces himself to turn and walk away, shutting the door behind him. He barely has time to process what just happened before he hears familiar footsteps. Looking up, he sees Balin and Dwalin approaching.

“Bilbo, how did it go?” Balin asks with a smile, only to frown when he sees Bilbo’s expression. “Bilbo?”

“What did that idiot do now?” Dwalin growls before storming into the office, leaving the door open. Balin stays behind, placing a gentle hand on Bilbo’s back, rubbing slow, soothing circles.

“Tell me what’s wrong, laddie?” Balin coaxes, but Bilbo doesn’t have the chance to answer.

Because then, they hear it.

“Dwalin, can you place this in the trash for me?”

Thorin’s voice cuts through the air like a blade.

Balin’s eyes widen in horror. Bilbo feels his world blur, only belatedly realizing that tears are spilling down his cheeks.

Of course. Of course, Thorin wouldn’t want to be with him. The moment he saw the gift, he scowled. He should have known, someone as great as Thorin would never settle for a simple hobbit like him.

A sob escapes before he can stop it, and then he’s running. He doesn’t know where, just away. Somewhere, he hears his friends calling after him, their voices full of worry, but he can’t stop. He just needs to leave.

When he finally reaches his cubicle, he numbly begins packing. He has to get out. Away from Erebor, away from Thorin, away from-

A gentle hand presses against his back. He freezes.

Looking up, he sees Bifur. Then Bofur, Bombur, Ori, Nori, and Dori. They’re all there, surrounding him, looking down at him with quiet understanding and sorrow.

And then, without a word, they pull him into a hug.

Bilbo breaks. He sobs into their arms as they hold him, as if their embrace alone can keep him from falling apart.