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Bilbo hesitated at the threshold of Thorin’s room, which were conveniently right next door to his own, upon seeing the dwarf hunched over his desk head in hands.
“Thorin?” He finally asked, when it seemed the king wasn’t going to notice his hovering.
“Bilbo! Are you in need of something?” Thorin’s overwhelmed demeanour disappeared and he sprung from his chair to approach the hobbit.
“No, I simply thought to invite you to second breakfast, but is something worrying you?” The hobbit could tell his dwarf was hiding something from him.
“No, nothing.” Thorin was quick to deny.
“Thorin.” Bilbo said sternly, but a hint of pleading crept into his voice unwittingly.
“Nothing to concern you.” Thorin answered swiftly again, making Bilbo feel brushed aside.
“What does that mean?” He asked testily.
“It’s.” A pause, “It’s nothing you can help me with.” Exhaustion sat upon the king’s brow and weighed down his voice
“How would you know if you don’t ask me?”
“I know.” The certainty of his words only served to frustrate Bilbo more. When would Thorin learn just because he was king didn’t mean he was infallible.
“Thorin. I’m here, I’ve stayed to help you, there’s no point in my staying if you push me away!” His voice was loud and echoed through the chamber; he felt so small during these seemingly one-sided conversations.
Silence answered him. This wasn’t the first time Bilbo had felt this recent rejection and distance from Thorin, but it was the first time in private. He’d tried to be understanding about him pulling away in public; Bilbo was an outsider, despite everything he’d been through, after all. Dwarfs weren’t so dissimilar to hobbits in their wariness of strangers.
So he tried to understand, that it wasn’t personal, it wasn’t about him. It was about Thorin putting his people first. He could accept that, even if reluctantly. But when they were alone, he was different. Until now.
“I need to do this on my own.” The king finally replied solemnly.
“You need to explain to me why I can’t help you. I won’t accept anything less.” He’d been justifying everything to himself already, it was Thorin’s turn to do that work.
But Thorin didn’t answer. He turned his back on him and began to walk back towards his desk. Bilbo saw red.
“Well, if you’re going to be so stingy with your words I may as well return to the Shire until you decide to be more generous!” He shouted rashly.
“You can’t” The kings answer was once again sure and instantaneous. It sounded like an order. It fanned the flames of Bilbo’s anger even higher.
“Can’t? I can and will do whatever I please! In fact I’ll leave tonight! No, today! Right now!” He turned and flung open the door behind him without a second glance at the king, “Someone, ready me a pony!”
“Bilbo-“ He heard Thorin say his name, but nothing could douse his current state, so swiftly stormed off.
As he marched down the twisting hallways, he decided he needed to head to the kitchens first. He caught sight of Bofur and Bombur and couldn’t keep his infuriated tirade down any longer on seeing the familiar faces.
“He’s being completely incorrigible! Why does he refuse to confide in me! I’m his- friend.” They didn’t have a label really, and lover felt so silly and insignificant, “He’s already knocked on deaths door once because of his stubbornness to endure everything alone, and he’s still determined to follow the same path!
Well I won’t walk him right up to that door again, no! I’m still in possession of my good hobbit sensibilities and I’ll just have to impart some onto him too!
If my father had carried on like your king does well my mother would have given him a jolly good smack upside the head and wandered off to Bree to give him time to appreciate what he had! That hardheaded fool is lucky I’m not a violent sort, or I’d do just the same!” He felt a little cooled down after blowing off some steam ranting. Bofur and Bombur had patiently listened to the whole thing, nodding and humming through out. He felt a little guilty burdening them with his problems post-rage clarity.
“I- Well I was hoping if you had any to spare, I could take some provisions. I’m headed back to the Shire, to clear my head with some fresh air.”
“I’m sure we have some to spare for a hero like yourself, Bilbo.” Bombur assured, “I’m sorry to hear you’re having troubles. You know we all followed Thorin’s cos well he’s undeniably a mighty and good king, I’d never been that close to a king before actually. Boy was I surprised on our journey, seeing him with you, to find he can be dull in ways I’d never have guessed! I’ll whip up a few dishes that ought to lift your spirits!” Bilbo didn’t quite follow the end of Bombur’s speech but he understood he was receiving sympathy and rations.
“Good luck to you Bilbo! A bit of dramatics is the only way to get anything through a thick dwarf skull I’ve learned! That or a good axe!” Bofur continued after his brother.
“Well thank you both, I’m glad to see a complete absence of manners isn’t shared amongst all dwarves! I appreciate any provisions you can spare, I’ll be off to pack my things and return soon for them. Thank you muchly, Bombur, Bofur.”
The previously disgruntled hobbit felt gratified by their support and left the kitchens in a much improved mood, and only more determined he was making the right choice to get some distance between him and Erebor.
Bilbo ran off to his rooms next to pack his cases. Technically not his cases, they were gifted to him by the elves, upon peace talks with them. This is where Balin finds him.
“Bilbo.” The older dwarf stepped in through the open door.
“Oh, Balin! Good timing, see I don’t quite know the boys who care for the ponies now, I was wondering if you could introduce me, or would you ask them if there is one available to borrow?” Bilbo was in an almost cheerful mood from the distraction of packing and reminiscing of home.
“Bilbo! Are you really returning to the Shire?” Balin sounded much more panicked than he should. Surely they hadn’t expected him to never visit home.
“Yes, I am. No need to seem so shocked, I would have done so eventually. I’ve just been putting it off. And Thorin clearly doesn’t need me here.” He finished huffily, remembering the person who was the main reason for his sudden trip.
“No, no, Bilbo. Why would you think a thing like that?” Balin seemed rather harried, perhaps he was being burdened with too much. He was a trustworthy and capable advisor, but at his age Thorin shouldn’t be pushing so much onto him. Another thing Bilbo would have to talk to Thorin about upon his return.
“You should ask your king.” He didn’t feel much like explaining himself or his relationship. Thorin could think long and hard on what he really wanted, and if that wasn’t Bilbo…
If that wasn’t Bilbo.
…they’d cross that bridge if they came to it.
“Actually, I’ve just seen our king. He’s in quite a state. Pacing and muttering of how he’s offended you direly and now you’re leaving him.”
“I- I’m not- that daft- that’s not what’s happened at all! No, I must stand my ground. I’m a hobbit of my word and I’m leaving today. But… you can relay a message to Thorin from me.” Bilbo paused, thinking, he may as well lay all his cards out here, “My heart remains open, hurry and find your way.”
The pair stood in silence for a moment, the hobbit slightly embarrassed, the dwarf presumably noting the message for his king.
“Is there no way to convince you lad?” Balin finally asked.
“No.” Bilbo was sure of himself and his decision.
A while later, Bilbo stood outside Erebor, staring up at this awe-inspiring mountain astride his pony. He’d miss it, while he was away, it was easy to admit it had become somewhat of a second home to him.
His quiet contemplation was interrupted by shaking earth, and when he turned his head along the road leading from Erebor that he had just travelled he saw a cloud of dust moving towards him.
He should have moved, but he didn’t. Maybe he knew who was coming.
Thorin, riding a great hog, leaped from his mount and pulled Bilbo from his own and into his arms. But the hobbit was still angry, he pushed and struggled in his arms and the king released him gently to the ground.
Neither spoke. Bilbo glaring at Thorin, Thorin staring hard at Bilbo. Then he made the sudden movement to push up Bilbo’s shirt.
“What are you doing!?” The hobbit flushed in anger.
His raised garments revealed the mithril armour he wore beneath them.
“You still wear it.” Thorin finally spoke, with something like surprise and relief.
“Well, yes, of course.” Bilbo didn’t say how he wore it always, because it was a gift from Thorin, and it made him feel strong in his loneliest moments of homesickness.
Could Thorin want it returned to him now? Could he have chased him down, not for his sake, but for a piece of his treasure leaving the mountain? Bilbo was thinking irrationally. All the rejection, loneliness, homesickness and uselessness he’d felt over these months now curled up in his chest as white hot anger.
“I suppose you want me to leave it here!” He shouted.
“What? No, no please, please don’t. I, I didn’t know I’d upset you so. Please don’t take it off.”
“You’re the one who clearly wants it back!”
“No! What makes you think that? Is it someone else? You’re the one leaving me!”
“I’m only leaving because you don’t want me here.”
“That’s not true.”
“Then why won’t you talk to me?”
“I… I’ve just been torn on how to, present you with, the final courting gift.”
“What?”
“I wished to make it, romantic. I was told, you would enjoy such a gesture.”
“Wait, stop. What do you mean final courting gift? What other courting gifts have there been?”
“The armour, you’re wearing right now.”
“This… was a courting gift?”
“…you didn’t know?”
“…”
“I have been foolish, I-“
“No, no, Thorin, stop.”
“I assumed, wrongly I see. Of course you did not wish, after everything-“
“Thorin! I accept your courtship! I would have earlier if I’d known it was being offered. I- I was rather under the impression you didn’t wish to court.”
“Why would you-“
“Well how could I have when you avoid my touch, my eyes even, in public!”
“I- I do so because my heart stutters, my mind empties when you look at me. I need to be completely sober, sure and invulnerable as king. I am like a young dwarf with his first love around you.”
“You foolish dwarf! You could’ve just said that! Don’t you know what I’ve put myself through wondering about your hot and cold attitude! It’s been like the first days of our journey only ten times worse!”
“I’ve failed you again. I don’t deserve to court you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! I’ve been waiting for you to court me practically since the day you stepped through my door. You better not back down now.”
“I would never.”
“Then ask me properly.”
“I, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, Heir to the Line of Durin, humbly ask that Bilbo Baggins, son of Bungo Baggins, would do me the honour of accepting my courtship, with this gift.” And then, he pulled a small box from his cloak. A box Bilbo vaguely recognised seeing sitting on his desk.
In the box, was a shining blue bead. Intricately carved runes and leaves could be made out from it, and the hopeful, shy look on Thorin’s face said more than words ever could.
Had this been what he was reaching for, when Bilbo thought he turned his back on him? They could have avoided all this drama if he’d just waited a moment!
“Yes, Thorin. Of course, I accept.” He traced a finger delicately over the beautiful creation in Thorin’s hands.
“It is a courting bead. Would you allow me to give you a braid to match it?” Bilbo had never seen the dwarf so careful and unsure.
“Yes, you silly thing. In case you missed it, I love you and I want to court you.”
The couple flushed red together. Thorin didn’t say it back, but his gentle hands threading together the braid that would tell his people Bilbo was his, said everything he ever could.