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1.
Bilbo was half-asleep, beginning to feel his stomach gnawing at him from the lack of food over the last few weeks, and otherwise feeling wet and miserable after having enjoyed the comforts of Rivendell.
The rain had been particularly persistent, only letting up to a light drizzle as they huddled under a canopy of trees and despite the late hour Bilbo could not find sleep.
Bilbo was drenched, cold, and shivering as he and The Company had huddled close, trying to keep some kind of warmth between them. The dwarves were faring better than he was, they seemed to radiate heat in a way that Bilbo envied, and Gandalf didn’t seem to feel any kind of discomfort from the weather no matter what it was. He drifted however, barely conscious as he rolled on the ground, his body only stopping as he nudged into someone else, a warm, blazing heat pressing against his front and in his half-awake state he nuzzled his face into the warmth, letting out a small, content hum.
He froze a moment later, snapping to awareness as he realised what he had done, looking up to see the stern, disapproving gaze of Thorin staring straight back at him.
His gut swooped briefly with nerves as he had all but plastered himself against the dwarf’s side, the dwarf who was barely tolerating his existence on this quest, and he swallowed thickly, embarrassment crawling up his neck. If it were day-time he was sure the flush on his face would be a visible red.
“I ah- Sorry.” Bilbo mumbled and shuffled himself back, rolling himself over and burrowing back under his blanket.
A grunt was his only answer and Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will himself back to some kind of sleep.
2.
The hug that Thorin had given him was still tingling across Bilbo’s front as he walked around the garden of Beorn’s house, the lingering warmth that had pressed firmly into Bilbo’s front plaguing his mind as they had made their way through the woods and to relative safety.
More and more he had found his gaze drifting to the dwarven King, but unlike before the Carrock Bilbo was finding that Thorin was staring back.
It was beginning to put all sorts of silly notions inside Bilbo’s head, like whether he reached out a hand would Thorin reach back? If he pressed himself to Thorin’s side would the dwarf allow it? It was all in all ridiculous and foolish of him to be thinking anything like this at all, not with the entire quest stretching before them.
But perhaps in the warm safety of this enchanting home Bilbo could let himself be just a little fanciful.
A rustle of grass sounded behind him and he didn’t quite jump as he turned around, his shoulders slumping in relief as he saw Thorin standing a few paces away.
“Night will fall soon, we should return indoors.” The dwarf said without fanfare and Bilbo swallowed a wry smile as he nodded and followed Thorin back to the main building.
Foolish notions indeed as Bilbo made his way inside, Thorin was clearly not one for flights of fancy, he was stern and pragmatic, friendlier than he had been at the beginning of all of this and Bilbo would not take that for granted, but any silly thoughts Bilbo might have about this dwarf would not be returned. The knowledge of that was a little disappointing to be sure, but honestly he hadn’t known him for that long and Bilbo would get over it, having this burgeoning friendship between them was more than enough for Bilbo who had thought that Thorin would never really grow to like him at all.
They ate together, some of The Company stepping outside to smoke before they all bedded down for the night. Bilbo wasn’t tired as such, not after a few days of solid rest, but he wasn’t about to make a nuisance of himself so he settled down with the others, wrapping his blanket around his shoulders as he relaxed and tried to will himself into some kind of sleep.
He must have drifted off after a while as he blinked himself awake, his thoughts muzzy and unfocused as he noted that the large hall was dark with the deep inky blackness of the night, it reminded him of nights in the woods of the Shire and Bilbo smiled. The smile vanished as he realised that he was close to another body, not quite pressed into the dwarf’s side, but close enough that he was lightly touching their clothed skin. He swallowed, realising that he now recognised the smell of this dwarf even if he had only been held in his arms once.
He stiffened in place and prepared to roll away when a low voice rumbled out quietly in the dark between them. “Rest Master Baggins, it is safe here.”
And well, if Thorin wasn’t going to tell him to move then Bilbo wasn’t going to.
And if he rolled a little closer no one but him would really know that.
3.
Mirkwood was sick, that much didn’t take a genuis to figure out.
For all that The Company were resolute in their choice to traverse across the dark, dank woodlands, Bilbo could tell he wasn’t the only one who found the forest unsettling and offputting, as if there were eyes watching them at all times. He’d caught Ori flinch and look around, as if he had heard a voice that only spoke to him, how Nori had knives in his hands at all times, even when trying to sleep, and how even Fili was clutching at the hilts of his swords, the Prince not trusting anything in this place.
Even Thorin was not unaffected, the dwarf twitchy and even more prone to his bouts of anger as the oppressive gloom of the forest worked it’s way into his mind as well.
None of them were safe and all of them were on edge.
Bilbo was just glad that they had all accepted them into their group, otherwise Bilbo feared there may have been one too many pointy things aimed his way as his footsteps were lighter than the others, he had almost scared Dwalin half to death at one point, the burly dwarf thankfully only let out a surprising shriek instead of trying to bash his head in. But Bilbo could feel this place worming into his own skull, making him see things that weren’t there, hear things in the darkness of the bushes, trying to coax him into leaving The Company, to join the skittering things in in trees.
It was all around entirely unpleasant and Bilbo’s skin was crawling with the need to get out of this forest as soon as they could.
A task currently on pause as they had all huddled under a tree, trying to get some rest but none of them really managing it. Bilbo was pressed between Thorin and Dori and normally Bilbo would be more than a little pleased at having the dwarven King so close, but in this forest all he could do was shiver in place as he burrowed himself into his blanket, he didn’t trust that he could close his eyes and sleep, not with the dark looming with sinister intent in a way Bilbo had never seen before.
A body next to him shifted and Bilbo nearly jerked away, but was halted with the gentle press of a hand around his shoulders, strong pipe-weed and the smell of metal greeted him and all at once Bilbo’s hackles lowered.
“Peace Master Baggins.” Thorin rumbled beside him, tugging him back towards the floor and against the dwarf’s side.
“Sorry, this place is just-” Bilbo’s throat clicked as he cut himself off with a gulp, shivering once again as Thorin tucked Bilbo half under his own blanket.
If Bilbo was in his right mind he would have questioned this, but as it was he was so grateful to have any kind of warmth that he shifted closer, his head resting on Thorin’s bicep.
A grunt sounded above him.
“We will be rid of it soon.” Thorin said and Bilbo nodded, his eyes staring to slip shut and willing to let Thorin have enough belief for the both of them.
Something lightly brushed through his hair, fingers perhaps but Bilbo did not care to open his eyes to check, not now that he was finally comfortable. “Sleep.” Thorin murmured, to Bilbo and likely to himself.
And finally Bilbo could feel himself begin to drift off.
4.
Bilbo wasn’t honestly sure if it had been weeks or days since he had broken his dwarves out of the Elven King’s dungeons, time had become a tricky thing to keep track of as he had miraculously not drowned while riding barrels down a river, had hidden while shoved into a barrel of fish to sneak into a town that reeked of the same, and had swam up a toilet of all things to hide in the house of a Man who looked like he wanted nothing to do with them.
They had been caught of course, because that seemed to be the general luck that their group was plagued with, but Thorin, brave, proud, stubborn Thorin had pledged to the townspeople, had bartered his case and Bilbo had been so awestruck and enamoured he hadn’t been able to do anything but vouch for him. To prove to this town of desperate Men that this dwarf could and would keep his word.
He hadn’t really been sure that it would work, but it had and bare moments later that they had been ushered in and welcomed into a grand feast of celebration of their quest.
“It is only for show, this Master would sell us to the highest bidder if he believed he could get better coin for it.” Thorin had muttered as they had sat side-by-side at the head table.
Bilbo had nodded in agreement, he wasn’t one to be suspicious without reason, but this Master reeked of greed so strong it was almost a visible cloak around him, but Bilbo could let himself half-listen to the Man’s disingenuous praise of their Company as he ate his fill of the Man’s food. It wasn’t as if he had poor company with Thorin’s blazing warmth by his side.
Bilbo wasn’t letting himself read much into it, but it was nice to be drawn into Thorin’s steady presence, they had grown closer as their journey had continued, sharing small tales of their own lives and even laughing at shared jokes. Thorin didn’t laugh much which Bilbo thought was a shame, he had such a lovely smile.
But he didn’t let himself linger on such thoughts, squashed them down with every small glance and warm smile sent his way. They were friends and Bilbo was happy with that.
When the main feast was done chairs shifted, bodies moved and Bilbo found that he had lost Thorin somewhere in the madness of it all. He frowned but was quickly pulled aside by Bofur, a drink shoved into his hands and the merry laughter of his friends distracting him for a while. He managed to slink away as the party carried on, his feet taking him towards the balcony where a door was half-open, and Bilbo looked through to see Thorin leaning against the railing, the dwarf’s gazed fixed onto the night sky.
Bilbo swallowed once, wondering if he should really bother him, his hand moved out to touch the wood of the door and he considered going back to the rest of The Company, forgetting he had seen Thorin when he shook himself and pushed the door open just a little more.
He hadn’t come all this way just to be a coward when faced with one dwarf.
A dwarf he perhaps had more than friendly feelings towards, but Bilbo ignored that as he shoved his hesitation away and stepped out into the cold night air. There was a lingering sombreness hovering over Thorin, the dwarf had seemed distracted, distant as they’d entered Laketown and Bilbo wanted to pull him out of his own head even just for one night.
He didn’t have the satisfaction of making Thorin jump, but he was graced with one of the dwarf’s rare smiles, not a big one, but small and full of such warmth that it pulled Bilbo to his side as they idly chatted about nothing.
Bilbo shifted closer as the night drew on, the cold biting at his skin even through his clothes but he didn’t wish to leave, not with Thorin’s steady and reassuring presence beside him.
He must have drifted off at some point however as Bilbo blinked his eyes open to find that they were both settled on the slightly damp floor of the balcony, their backs to the wall of the Master’s house with Bilbo’s head laying firmly on Thorin’s shoulder. The dwarf was warm and comfortable despite the bulk that Bilbo could feel through the dwarf’s clothes, and his hand twitched slightly where it lay against his own thigh, wanting to grasp at the large hand resting on Thorin’s own leg, so close to Bilbo’s.
A soft breath left the dwarf and Thorin’s shoulder shifted as he gently nudged Bilbo and stood up.
“Come, this floor is no place to sleep.” Thorin said as he offered Bilbo a hand and Bilbo did his best not to gulp as he grasped it with his own smaller one.
“Yet you let me anyway.” Bilbo replied and enjoyed the slightly sheepish look that fell over Thorin’s face.
“You seemed comfortable and…” His large shoulders sagged with a small sigh. “I did not wish to disturb you.” He finished, his eyes skittering off to the side like he was embarrassed.
Bilbo could feel a stupid grin taking over his face but he didn’t try to suppress it as he stood, still holding onto Thorin’s hand.
“Well I should thank you, for being so comfortable.” He responded, his heart swelling in his chest as Thorin looked back at him, a soft grin on the dwarf’s face and bother it all Bilbo almost let himself do something utterly foolish.
Almost.
He took in a breath and slowly, gently let his hand fall from Thorin’s, the dwarf’s grin fading slightly but not loosing it’s warmth.
Whatever he felt, it was best to keep it to himself.
“Let us find you a proper bed and some rest before we face the beast invading my home.” Thorin said and even the anxiety of facing down a dragon could not temper the giddy warmth flooding his chest.
The party was still somehow going but Bilbo followed Thorin as they took a quiet route towards the rooms that had been given to The Company, his hand tingling with the heat from Thorin’s touch even as the dwarf bid him goodnight and walked to his own room.
Bilbo stared down the hallway, let himself have one moment to imagine himself running down the hall after Thorin before he opened the door and went into his own room.
5.
Whatever Bilbo had imagined Erebor to be, the reality was anything but splendid.
The green walls, that must have shone magnificently at some point, were cold, haunting, almost clinging to a grief that seemed to permeate every room, every crevice, every stone Bilbo looked at. He wanted to be impressed the way he had been in Rivendell, even in the Elven King’s halls in Mirkwood, and Bilbo did feel awe, Erebor was huge and cavernous in a way that seemed to defy logic. But it was also so sharp and uninviting, as if the Kingdom itself wanted him and everyone else gone from it.
Something that Bilbo was desperately trying to do, to no avail.
Thorin was sick, his eyes hard, cold, so deathly distant as if someone moved the wrong way he would take a blade to their throat without hesitation. Bilbo swallowed as he remembered the blade held to his chest, the way Thorin’s wonderfully blue eyes had been so hard with an anger that he had never seen before. Not even towards the Pale Orc.
Bilbo shook his head, forced the memory away.
That wasn’t Thorin, none of this was Thorin, skulking around this ruined mess of a Kingdom as he slapped more and more jewels onto his person. Bilbo didn’t hate the finery, he even found himself admiring the cut of the tunics Thorin had found, but they were wrapped around the dwarf like a suit of armour, keeping Thorin away and shielded from the rest of them as he sank further and further into his own mind.
He was starting to mutter about other members of The Company, was starting to talk of duplicity and treason, all the while Bilbo held the stone Thorin wanted so badly inside his tattered coat.
And Bilbo wanted to give it to him, he had been going to before Thorin had held a blade towards him, the look on Thorin’s face in that moment had stayed Bilbo’s hand, had made him hesitate and he still hesitated now as he watched Thorin shuffle through the mounds of gold, restless and only growing worse by the day.
Bilbo could hear the faint muttering as Thorin looked through the treasure, it had been two days since he had seen Thorin sleep, two days of his muttering growing worse and worse.
Bilbo shifted his shoulders, bracing himself as he moved down the steps, letting his feet hit the stone louder than he normally would so the dwarf would hear him coming, none of Thorin’s current suspicions had been directed at him but he didn’t fancy risking it all the same.
“Thorin.” He called, the dwarf ignored him.
Bilbo let out a huff and moved right next to him, hesitating before reaching out a placing a hand onto Thorin’s arm. “Thorin.” He said, his tone firmer, louder and he had the satisfaction of watching Thorin turn to look at him.
“Bilbo.” Thorin smiled, a smile that normally would make Bilbo’s insides squirm and flip, but now only left him feeling cold.
It wasn’t the warm, gentle smile he had seen far too little and loved for it’s scarcity, this was a smile laced with fear, paranoia, a smile that made Bilbo wonder at how much of Thorin was still behind those cold, blue eyes.
Thorin stepped closer and Bilbo sucked in a breath, more than aware of how the dwarf’s proximity affected him. “What brings you here?” He asked as he shifted to face Bilbo.
Thorin was still so warm, was still a comforting presence even if he was loosing himself to a sickness that Bilbo did not understand, and part of Bilbo was tempted, so tempted to see if he could run his hands against Thorin’s beard, up into his hair. To see if that would bring the dwarf back. But it was a temptation that curdled in Bilbo’s gut, he didn’t want to trick Thorin more than he already was.
Instead he moved his hand down, grabbed at the dwarf’s wrist and tugged.
“Come on, you need to sleep.” He said as he started to move them towards the stairs, surprised that Thorin was letting him do this at all.
“I need to find the Arkenstone.” Thorin rumbled and Bilbo was thankful that he did not even slightly stumble at the mention of that blasted stone.
“Well you can’t find it if you can barely see due to lack of rest.” He replied, knowing that it was bright enough that even a half-asleep mind would see it.
“You do not know what I can and cannot do.” Thorin stopped so suddenly that Bilbo jerked forwards before catching himself, turning back to see genuine fury on Thorin’s face.
Bilbo took in a breath and slowly turned back to him, not letting go of Thorin as he carefully moved forwards into the dwarf’s space. He heard the intake of breath as he stepped up to him, saw the way Thorin’s eyes roved over his body but Bilbo had more resolve than to act on what this version of Thorin would happily take if Bilbo saw fit to give it.
“I’m not questioning your capabilities, I only worry for you being able to stand upright.” He soothed, rubbing the thumb of his hand against Thorin’s wrist.
The dwarf looked down, blinked and then all at once it was like a veil had lifted, when Thorin looked back up Bilbo could almost swear the dwarf was back to himself.
“I am… tired.” Thorin said and Bilbo couldn’t help the giddy relief that washed over him.
“Good, well- not good but- lets get you somewhere you can rest.” Bilbo spluttered, almost off-kilter at the change in Thorin’s mood and not wanting to waste a second of it.
A hum sounded behind him as Bilbo turned and lead the dwarf up and away from the mounds of gold. There wasn’t much in the way of habitable rooms but The Company had been able to claim a few store rooms as places to sleep, one having been taken by Thorin alone, a worry in of itself that Bilbo was kicking himself over not noticing before. He still dragged Thorin to that room, tugging him to the dwarf’s bedroll and not even trying to get Thorin to undress before gently pushing him to sit down.
Thorin did without complaint, almost looking dazed, lost, it made Bilbo’s heart clench and he wished he knew what to do to make this all better, to make Thorin better. His hand twitched at his side, the stone heavy in his pocket and he once again debated just giving it to Thorin, but as before he hesitated, even as shining blue eyes stared up at him.
Bilbo and reached out a hand to pat a Thorin’s shoulder. “Rest Thorin.” Bilbo said, moving to leave the room when a large hand reached out and gently held the sleeve of his ratty coat. Thorin wasn’t holding him in place, but his grip was firm.
“Stay?” Thorin asked, his voice strained, his expression pulled into something Bilbo couldn’t read and he swallowed thickly.
He shouldn’t, he should leave and try to get rid of the stupid stone in his pocket as soon as possible, but Thorin looked so vulnerable, so confused…
Taking his silence as a rejection Thorin shifted back and his expression closed off. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to-” The dwarf jaw clicked shut and he looked away.
Bilbo let out a long breath, rubbing a hand down his face before throwing caution to the wind and settling next to Thorin. The dwarf looked back at him, surprise clear across his face and he blinked slowly.
“I’ll keep an eye on you.” Bilbo said, watching as Thorin’s throat bobbed before the dwarf inclined his head in thanks.
They didn’t talk after that, Thorin lay down on his side as Bilbo sat next to him, the both of them so close but Bilbo dared not to touch him, as if it would break some kind of spell and Thorin would go back to being that grim spectre skulking around the treasury. Eventually Thorin’s eyes closed, his breath evened out and Bilbo truly believed him to be asleep, he leaned his head back and let out a long breath, his gut churning with worry and guilt. He could leave if he wanted, run away and never look back, but as he looked down at Thorin’s sleep-slack face he knew he couldn’t, not now. Not ever if he was being honest.
Despite promising to keep watch Bilbo could feel his head dropping forwards as his eyes started to close, he snapped his head up a few times, not wanting to leave Thorin unattended, but well, he had come down here willingly in the end, had listened to Bilbo for the first time in two days. Perhaps this was a sign of Thorin getting better? Of the shackles around him loosening?
Bilbo let out a small noise and shifted down, settling himself next to Thorin and letting his eyes start to drift shut.
Thorin would be okay after some sleep, Bilbo was sure of it.
When Bilbo blinked his eyes open the space next to him was empty and the room was silent, he swallowed as his insides turned to ice.
6.
The immediate aftermath of the battle had been some of the worst days of Bilbo’s life, which was saying something as he had run through the halls of Erebor being chased by a sodding dragon. But the uncertainty of whether Throrin would live, of whether his nephews would live, had made Bilbo so sick with worry that he could barely eat and had barely slept despite the conditions in the camp being better than they ever had been on the road. Waiting to see if Thorin would return to them even after Thranduil had been… persuaded into helping them had twisted Bilbo’s stomach into worried knots, not entirely sure he would be lucky enough to see those blue eyes open again.
It did not help that Bilbo had realised with startling clarity as he clung to Thorin on the frozen lake, begging him to live, that he had fallen in love with the dwarf, and had been so for some time.
It was a clarity he had done nothing with, worrying over Thorin recovering more than if the dwarf returned his feelings. There were times on their quest where Bilbo thought that there might have been the possibility of it, certainly the possibility of a tumble between the sheets if nothing else, but with everything during Thorin’s sickness, with Bilbo’s betrayal, he was not convinced that Thorin would have held onto those feelings even if the dwarf did harbour them to begin with.
No, they were fixing a fractured friendship and Bilbo would not allow himself to want for more.
Even if he had ended up sharing the dwarf’s bed more often than not, it was practical, there had been few spare cots in the camp and there was not much in the way of habitable rooms inside Erebor itself. They were sharing out of necessities sake, even if Bilbo did have his own bed in the room he shared with Thorin.
It didn’t mean anything, and wouldn’t.
There was still much work to be done, rooms cleared out, stores emptied. It wasn’t just the stench of dragon that polluted the air of the Mountain, but old, rotten food and fabrics that needed to be disposed of. Bodies that needed to be put to rest. It was tiring and stressful in it’s own way, especially with a grumpy King who was irritated about his inability to help out as he wished. Biblo was getting better at making sure Thorin didn’t go and try to move twenty tonnes of collapsed rocks all by himself, but he could tell that the dwarf was growing more annoyed by the day, especially as his strength returned. But Thorin had largely been yielding to Bilbo’s glowering stares as he so much as even made a step towards pulling at his still healing wounds.
It was a miracle Thorin was still alive, Bilbo was not about to watch the dwarf’s life slip away from him again. Once had been far too much.
He didn’t need to keep Thorin in sight as much as he did in those early days, content to see him towards the end of the day if their duties kept them apart, and this was how his found himself this evening: tired from looking over maps and documents to the point that when he had entered their shared chamber, Bilbo had taken one look as his bed before turning and bundling himself up into Thorin’s. He didn’t think the dwarf would mind, and if he protested Bilbo could just slink back over to his own.
He fell asleep in short order however, comfortable as he dozed for a few hours, only to wake with a low lamp glimmering in the room and Thorin reclined next to him. The dwarf had his eyes closed but Bilbo didn’t think he was asleep. Not fully anyway.
“Long day?” Bilbo asked, his voice a touch raspy after waking up and he watched as Thorin blinked his eyes open to look at him.
A low hum filled the air between them.
“Politics and bureaucracy, we haven’t even cleared out a quarter of the Mountain and already there are Guilds starting to squabble over space.” Thorin supplied and Bilbo snorted out a laugh.
Balin had been showing him some of the intricacies of dwarven life, and the Guilds that made up the Craftsmen was one part of it. Prone to petty arguments and childish bickering Balin had put it and Bilbo did not envy Thorin having to deal with that.
“My day of sorting out the next parts of the city to excavate seem trivial by comparison.” Even if Bilbo had come down with a terrible headache by the end of it.
“Are the routes too windy and overlapping?” Thorin asked, his tone light and teasing in a way that Bilbo had rarely heard before they had entered the Mountain.
Finding out Thorin could be funny of all things was still a bit of a shock, but with the stress of the quest behind them Bilbo realised that the dwarf did in fact know how to relax, well, sometimes at least.
“Terribly so, you should really have a word with whoever built this place.” Bilbo replied and was rewarded with a wide grin and a deep laugh, the force of it shaking the bed and Bilbo couldn’t help his own ridiculous grin.
It wasn’t always easy trying to be friends again, but it was worth it for these moments, the reminder for Bilbo of what he had even if he wanted to reach his hand out and brush it against Thorin’s wrist.
“My deepest apologies, I will see about bringing my ancestors to task over this with great haste.” Thorin quipped, even going so far as to incline his head as much as he could where he lay.
He looked ridiculous and Bilbo pressed his lips together to keep the bark of laughter in his chest, he didn’t want to disturb the peace of this moment.
“Good, see that you do.” Bilbo replied, cheeky and unrepentant, gleeful over the grin that was still spread across Thorin’s face.
Bilbo yawned all at once, his eyes drooping a little even as he wanted to stay awake, but it was becoming a loosing battle.
“Sleep, Bilbo.” Thorin rumbled and Bilbo snuggled down into the soft blankets to do just that.
Not Master Baggins, not Master Burglar, just Bilbo.
And how could he refuse?
7. (8, 9, 10…)
It was late, the stars glittering in the sky the only real source of light as even the small pinpricks of Dale were mostly out. Few people were likely awake at this hour, willingly so at least, bar one very anxious Hobbit.
Bilbo had gone to bed, had tried to sleep, but after a few hours of tossing and turning, even as Thorin had snored softly beside him, he had gotten up and wandered back into their sitting room.
He held a cup of tea in his hands as he chewed at his bottom lip as Bilbo stared at the night sky, his thoughts a whirling mess of nerves and apprehension that had made true rest the last few nights difficult.
There wasn’t any dangerous quest to go on, no battles, no dragon to chase off.
No, Bilbo’s difficulty at finding sleep was due to the fact that in a few short days he and Thorin would be officially, properly married.
They were largely considered as such by most of Thorin’s close kin, which helped to quell his nerves a little, but the rest of the Kingdom and their neighbouring ones would see this as his full, official coronation and him becoming the Consort of Erebor.
It was in a word: terrifying.
Bilbo was more than aware of the irony of this given that he had come face to face with a dragon, had battled spiders in Mirkwood and had tackled a bloody Orc on the mere hope that it might save Thorin’s life all those months ago on the Carrock. By all rights attending his own wedding and being coronated should be easy considering all that.
And yet, here he stood, fiddling with his cup and trying to soothe his racing mind at the knowledge of this up-coming ceremony.
Truth be told he had never thought he would get married, he had never really cared about the prospect one way or another, he’d never cared about having children, he had been content to be on his own in his Smial and live out the rest of his days as the odd bachelor of Bag-End. It would have been a good life too, but then thirteen dwarves had knocked on his door, an exiled King had swanned in with eyes too blue to be real, and well, Bilbo had been quite lost.
He smiled against his cup as he thought about where he had ended up, happy to have gotten lost given everything he had gained.
But that still did not quite quell the nervous bubbling of his gut. He wasn’t anxious to be married to Thorin, heavens no, he’d have married the dwarf in Laketown if he’d known that Thorin had been yearning over him too, no it was rather everything else that went with it. Hobbit weddings were large yes, but they were not grand matters of state with various political eyes watching and judging his every move. Thorin had just reclaimed his mountain, had startled to settle as the King Under the Mountain, Bilbo didn’t want to mess that all up for him.
A shuffle sounded behind him and Bilbo’s shoulders tensed for a moment before they sagged with relief, a pair of large hands finding his waist as a gentle press of lips landed on the nape of his neck, a warm body curling around his back.
“Ibnie.” The word rumbled out, a statement and a question all at once.
Why was he still awake? Why was he not in their bed? Why was he out here all by himself?
Bilbo let out a small sigh, his gaze still fixed on the night sky.
“I couldn’t sleep, that’s all.” He said, a grunt following his words.
“A worrying notion coming from you.” It wasn’t an insult but Bilbo still frowned, his mouth opening to retort when he was cut off. “The only times I have known you to be unable to find rest are when you are stressed or unhappy.”
The implication of that statement was left to hang in the air and a noise left Bilbo as he turned around, Thorin’s calm but worried face coming into view as Bilbo kept within the circle of his arms.
“It’s just…” Bilbo took in a breath and let it out. “Our wedding is soon and I think I’m just feeling a little- overwhelmed by it all.” He added, watching as Thorin’s brows drew together into a deep frown.
“If you do not wish to-”
“I want to marry you, you gigantic idiot.” Bilbo huffed, not letting Thorin finish that thought, honestly his dwarf was still half-convinced that he was going to go running off at the first sign of trouble, as if the entire quest had been anything other than a stress filled nightmare that Bilbo still had bad dreams about.
No he was staying put thank you very much. “But the public spectacle of it is- well it’s a lot to take in.” He added, hoping that Thorin would understand.
His dwarf drew in a breath and let it out, his large hands squeezing at his sides once as he nodded.
“I was nervous before my coronation as well.” Thorin told him and Bilbo blinked, sure his dwarf had paced a little more than normal and fixed the same spot on his cloak over and over again, to the point that Bilbo had gone over to fix it himself and that seemed to have done the trick.
But he hadn’t realised that Thorin had been all that affected.
“Really?” He asked and Thorin nodded.
“Really.” Thorin answered. “I had been afflicted with gold sickness in these halls, I may have fought it off but… I was not- am not entirely sure that it will never surface again.” The dwarf added and Bilbo reached up a hand to press against Thorin’s cheek, his thumb rubbing against the dwarf’s beard in a way that always seemed to soothe him.
Thorin took in another breath. “I was unsure if I was making the right choice, unsure if my people would accept me.” Bilbo could remember the early days of dwarves coming back to the Mountain, how word of his sickness had spread and had caused mistrust to sow in those first few weeks, how Bard had been so wary of Thorin and The Company in general.
That had lessened as the months had gone on and Thorin had been proving himself to be the ruler that Bilbo knew him to be, but the lingering doubt was still something Bilbo could feel in the air sometimes.
Bilbo nudged himself a little closer. “But they did, if my people can accept me then they will love you as I do.” Thorin said with such surety that Bilbo felt at least some of his anxiety melt off of his bones.
He put his cup down and pressed a hand into Thorin’s side, looking up at him with a wry smile.
“I still think I’m going to look ridiculous in everything Dori has made for me.” Wonderful as Dori’s work was, there was just so much of it, Bilbo was sure he was going to look like a colourful, glittering sausage by the end of it all.
Thorin’s eyes flashed with something hungry, possessive.
“You will look radiant, and everyone will be envious that you are mine to keep.” And really Bilbo should not find his dwarf’s greed at all appealing, but as one of Thorin’s large hands moved up to cup his cheek, to slide into his hair and tug ever-so-slightly, Bilbo really couldn’t bring himself to care.
Thorin gentled after a moment, running his hand in soothing circles against the back of Bilbo’s head and he let his eyes flutter shut, a low hum leaving his throat under his dwarf’s care.
A pair of lips nudged into his cheek and Bilbo smiled. “Come, back to bed with you.” Thorin rumbled and Bilbo sighed, he really was tired.
“If you insist my-Oh! Thorin!” Bilbo’s eyes snapped open as he was unceremoniously scooped off of the floor, his legs dangling on either side of Thorin’s hip as his dwarf walked through their sitting room and into their bedchambers.
He glared down at Thorin. “I have working legs thank you.” He snipped but didn’t truly struggle, not with the smug grin that spread across Thorin’s face.
Honestly he was such a boor sometimes.
“What kind of husband would I be if made you exert yourself days before our wedding?” Thorin replied, carrying Bilbo to their bed and placing him gently onto the sheets.
Bilbo only gave him a flat-look that did nothing to dampen the satisfied grin that was spread across his dwarf’s face.
“So running all over Mirkwood to find you sorry lot was resting? Or bartering with a dragon of all things? Oh! And- mmph!” Bilbo didn’t get to finish his rant as Thorin’s lips closed over his, pushing him back onto soft sheets as large hands roamed up and under his night shirt.
They might have gotten little sleep after that, but well, Bilbo couldn’t say he minded.