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“—What are you doing?” Came Bilbo’s voice from the entry way of the pantry, his eyes silently gazing at the dwarf that was far too big to be in his pantry, his body stiff and unsure, as if he was a little child caught by his parents. Bilbo eyes the dwarf for a couple of seconds before his gaze drops down to the jar in the dwarf’s hands, his large and calloused fingers stuck in the opening of his cookie jar, his fingers barely brushing the tips of the cookies.
“Well, that is—Dwalin gave high praise to these cookies, so I decided that I would like to try some.” Came the deep voice of the dwarf as he lamely stood in the pantry, his eyes slightly dilated as if he was a deer caught by his horns, his oversized body unsure of what to do. Bilbo eyes the dwarf for a mere second before he topples over in a hearty laugh, making the dwarf wince in embarrassment as he acutely becomes aware of how ridiculous he must look at the moment in the eyes of the little hobbit.
“I say. Thorin Oakenshield is in my pantry because he as a secret sweet tooth.” Bilbo gasps out with a smile as he edges into the pantry, his hands wiping away the small tears that gathered in his eyes, Thorin all the while awkwardly standing there with the blasted jar still in his hands, his pride dwindling with every step and laugh from the hobbit. “You could have just asked, you know?” Bilbo says as he stands in front of Thorin, a smug grin on his face as he reaches for the jar and encircles Thorin’s wrist with his much smaller and smoother hands, pulling at the dwarf’s hand.
Thorin merely stands still as he allows the hobbit to pull his damned hand out of the jar, mentally searching for an isolated corner he can hide in because this was beyond embarrassing when suddenly, his hands pops out of the jar, making the hobbit and himself stumble a bit. Bilbo balances the jar in his hands and gazes up at Thorin, a much softer smile on his lips this time around.
“I don’t usually approve of people touching my things but seeing as how you and your company have already cleared my pantry, I might as well just give you these.” Bilbo says as he turns around and reaches for a plate, his tiny hand easily pulling cookies out of the jar, placing them neatly on the plate. Thorin stands behind the little hobbit with a cautious interest before the hobbit turns around and holds up a plate of cookies to his face. “Here. They’re all yours.”
Thorin stares at the cookies, then at Bilbo’s face, back at the cookies and back at Bilbo before his hands reach for the plate, the smile on Bilbo’s face growing wider and wider. Thorin nods a silent thank you before the dwarf King realizes how close he and the hobbit are standing, their bodies mere inches apart in the pantry that was a tad bit too small for Thorin’s taste. It also does not help that Thorin could practically count the grey streaks in the hobbit’s iris, a warm and homey like heat resonating off the hobbit and towards dwarf King.
Thorin clears his throat, making the two snap out of their silent reverie as Bilbo clumsily wipes his hands on his trousers, his eyes looking everywhere but the King. The two stand in silence, a tense yet familiar silence that comes to life whenever it's just the two of them, when a loud ruckus and two sets of laughter from the dining catch their attention. Bilbo exhales as tired sigh as he gazes up at Thorin, a similar expression on the dawrf King's face, and maybe an even apologetic touch to it as both clearly know what that noise was and who was causing it. Bilbo can only hope that Thorin’s nephews didn’t break anything antique or else Bilbo will have them skinned alive and then some.
"Well then. I guess I should go check and see if your nephews have left my dining set intact.” Bilbo weakly says with a tired pout as he turns around, a series of lectures and threats already swarming his head, ones he specifically made and saved up for the troublesome nephews.
“Burglar.” Came Thorin’s voice, stopping the hobbit midway in his path, his little body already turning to face the brooding King that just looked completely and utterly ridiculous with a plate of cookies in his hands. Ha, that’ll be a tale Bilbo would love to tell someday. “Thank you. For the cookies and for dealing with my nephews.”
“Oh. Well, you’re very welcome.” Bilbo says with brows furrowed, not exactly sure of what to make of the situation because this was the first time since Thorin’s arrival that he’s thanked the hobbit outright. He was such an intimidating figure when Bilbo first laid eyes upon him, his stoic and proud presence stifling and silencing not only the hobbit and the rest of the dwarves but the very grey wizard himself. And yet, that very same King was currently thanking a hobbit for a plate of cookies. A tale to be told indeed. “Just, uh, don’t leave crumbs on my floor.”
Thorin nods his head, his eyes solely focused on the hobbit before a small, barely visible curl of lips sprouts on his face and if Bilbo was seeing things correctly, the dwarf King was smiling. Or some sort of a smile since the dwarf had yet to smile since his arrival.
“I’ll see to it that I don’t.” Thorin says as he turns around, easing his way out of the pantry and into the hobbit’s kitchen, a content smile on his bearded face, leaving the hobbit stunned for a split second before the loud whooping and cheering of Kili’s voice draws him back to reality alongside the crash of a precious glass against the marble floor, making Bilbo wince as he exhales a long overdue sigh.
He marches out of the pantry and towards the dining room, ready to skin a pair of dwarves alive, his sanity and Thorin’s smile be damned.