Chapter Text
Bilbo started slightly at the hand on his shoulder and the cold against his warm skin.
W-who?
He opened his eyes slightly, but his vision was blurred with sleep. He saw only a pair of pale blue eyes, staring at him with concern.
"Open your eyes, Ghivashel," muttered the dwarf she belonged to.
Bilbo knew that nickname. Only one person called him that.
"T-Thorin…?" his voice was hoarse, tiredness had left its mark.
"Shh… everything's alright," Thorin whispered softly, his hand rubbing gentle circles on Bilbo's back. "You sleep far too little, little Hobbit."
Bilbo wanted to protest. He could certainly take care of himself, and his sleep schedule was the last thing the king under the mountain needed to worry about.
He was just a simple hobbit.
He propped himself up a little, his muscles protesting loudly.
"I'm fine..." he hissed in response to Thorin's worried look.
Thorin raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
He simply gently placed an arm around Bilbo's shoulder and pulled him closer.
Closer.
Bilbo wanted to say how much he'd missed him.
His voice. His eyes. His… everything.
But the words stuck in his throat.
"I…"
"I'm here…" Thorin whispered. "You don't have to say anything. I'm already here."
Bilbo hummed contentedly.
Thorin was here. Good.
"I'm tired…" "I can see that. Get some sleep, okay?"
Bilbo nodded languidly.
Very gently, he closed his eyes again. This time, the darkness felt familiar. Comforting.
"Thor…" he murmured softly, against the king's chest. Gently rocked to his heartbeat.
And then he fell asleep.