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“... and then when the passes open again, I can make my way home.”
It was just a snippet of conversation Thorin overheard at the weekly Company dinner but it made his heart sink.
He exchanged a glance with Dwalin, who looked sad. He'd heard it too.
Bilbo kept chatting to Bofur and Balin, not noticing their downcast expressions. Not until the silence of the room penetrated his awareness did he look up, baffled at the thirteen miserable faces looking back at him.
“Is something the matter?” he asked in concern.
“You're leaving?” Ori asked in a small, small voice.
Bilbo looked at him, his own expression falling. He looked around at them all, longest and last at Thorin and Dwalin. He fiddled with his mis-matched cutlery and looked down at the table.
“Yes,” he said uncertainly, and then his voice firmed. “Yes, I suppose I must.”
---
Later that night, in their rooms, Thorin and Dwalin sat before the fire, both lost in thought.
They'd known what they were to each other from a young age, so it had been a huge surprise for them to find behind a round green door the missing part of their kurdu, their heart, one that they had not known they needed until they met him. It had taken them time (Thorin especially) to accept what that meant, but by the time they reached Lake-town, the three of them had been eagerly anticipating a life together. Bilbo had been excited about seeing Erebor rebuilt, making a new life with them.
Then there was the goldsickness, and the Arkenstone, and Thorin had threatened Bilbo, almost killed him. Dwalin, who hadn't been affected the same amount as Thorin, had still ignored and dismissed Bilbo’s concerns until after Thorin banished him.
He'd almost drawn his sword on Dwalin. The memories still filled him with shame.
They’d apologised of course, and Bilbo too for taking the stone in the first place, but what was between them, what had almost been, was broken and neither of them had any idea to fix it.
Their silent misery was interrupted by a knock at the door. Dwalin rolled his eyes at them as he went to answer it. Neither of them were surprised to find the rest of the Company behind the door. Dwalin let them in and trailed around to stand behind Thorin’s chair.
“You're not just going to let him go, are you?” Gloin demanded incredulously.
“If he wants to go home, then we'll see it done,” Thorin replied quietly, thinking of the day soon to come when they would no longer see Bilbo every day, how miserable it would be.
“But he wanted to stay!” Fili wailed, and the others chimed in.
“That was before…” Thorin began, before he choked on his own memories. Dwalin's hand come to rest on the nape of his neck, comforting him without words.
Bofur made a rude noise. “Have you even asked him to stay?”
“How could we?” Dwalin growled.
“I'm sure he wants to stay!” Ori said hopefully. “I think he's just homesick.”
“Aye, well, we can't argue with homesickness,” Balin said quietly.
“I think Ori has a point,” Dori declared, unsurprisingly. “He's not mentioned being unhappy here; just that he misses some things from the Shire.”
“Like handkerchiefs!” Nori suggested, causing a general fond laugh.
“He missed some sort of hobbit festival,” Bombur suggested in his quiet way. “Called it Yule - he seemed pretty upset about it.”
There was a moment of quiet, when the reality of Bilbo’s longing for his home sunk in.
“I still think you should ask him to stay,” Bofur said, crossing his arms stubbornly.
He and Dwalin shared a look, and a nod, already sharing a plan.
“We will,” Thorin promised, to the general relief of the room.
“But if we ask him, and he still wants to go, we see him home,” Dwalin said fiercely, glaring around at them all. “No trying to change his mind, no making him feel bad. He deserves...” Dwalin trailed off, and Thorin cleared his throat, picking up where he’d left off.
“He deserves to be happy, wherever that is.”
---
The next day, he and Dwalin headed to Bombur’s office. He was at his desk, which was covered in both architectural plans and recipes.
Bombur looked pleased to see them. “How can I help you?” he asked, bowing his head a little though Thorin had told him repeatedly that it was not necessary.
“Tell us about Yule,” Thorin said, taking a seat in front of him.
Bombur blinked, and then a smile grew over his face. “I see,” he said smiling approvingly. “Bilbo didn’t tell me much, and I assume that this is a surprise, so I can’t check the details.”
They both nodded. “We want to make him feel like Erebor could be home,” Thorin explained, and Bombur’s smile turned a bit watery. He was as much a romantic as Gloin, if a bit quieter about it.
“I’ll tell you what I know,” Bombur assured them. “I’m sure Bilbo will love it.”
---
The first item on their list was easy enough.
“Why would the hobbits bring branches indoors?” Dwalin grumbled, shifting the bundle in his arms. “Seems a bit odd to me.”
Thorin shrugged. He’d once thought that hobbits were basic, predictable, simple folk. Then he’d met Bilbo. He had no idea why they would do anything.
They placed the bare branches around their rooms, where they had decided to hold their Yule festival. Even after arranging and rearranging them as artfully as they knew how, it still looked…
“Dull,” Thorin declared, and Dwalin sighed, slumping against Thorin in frustration.
“There’s plenty we can do about that,” Thorin said, poking Dwalin until he stood up.
They rummaged through the treasury, finding as many green gemstones as they could. Then they raided Dori’s fabric stash (with his blessing, they wouldn’t have dared otherwise!). And then they hung ribbons and gemstones from the branches, making them look as leafy as possible.
They scrutinised their handiwork after they were done. “It looks better,” Dwalin decided, nodding approvingly as the fire and candlelight glittered off the gemstones.
Thorin agreed. Maybe it wasn’t entirely hobbit-y, but it did look festive.
Hopefully Bilbo would like it, anyway.
---
The second item on the list Bombur gave them was trickier.
“Slow-roasted goose stuffed with chestnuts?” Dwalin read incredulously. “Where would we get that?”
Before Smaug, geese would be something that the dwarves would trade with Dale. These days, with rebuilding underway both inside and outside of the Mountain, geese (and ducks, and chickens) were more valued for their eggs than their meat, and there were none for sale.
Before they could fret about it too much, there was a knock on the door, and Kili poked his head around the door, beaming widely.
“Bombur said that you needed a goose for a secret party for Bilbo,” he announced loudly, still in the corridor.
Dwalin hushed him, rolling his eyes, while Thorin looked at him suspiciously. “What did you do, nephew?” he asked.
Kili help up his hands defensively. “Nothing bad, I swear! I went hunting in the woods. I couldn’t find any geese, but I shot a couple of pheasants - Bombur thinks that they will make a good substitute.”
“Thank you, Kili,” Thorin said, truly grateful, crossing the room to press their foreheads together.
“I want Bilbo to stay as much as you two do!” he said, then wrinkled his nose. “Well, maybe not quite as much.”
Thorin swatted at him, and he ducked away with a laugh.
“Aye, thank you,” Dwalin said, coming over to join them, clapping him on the shoulder.
“Well, just don’t tell Thranduil,” Kili said. “Tauriel helped me, and I don’t want her to get into trouble for poaching.”
Thorin and Dwalin smirked at each other. Their Yule feast would taste better knowing that their meal was poached from under Thranduil’s nose.
---
The second food item was easier. Bombur had already started mixing it up.
“A dried fruit and suet pudding?” Dwalin said, reading over his shoulder. “Do we have those ingredients?”
Bombur nodded distractedly as he stirred. “I’d already traded for them when Bilbo first told me about it,” he replied.
Thorin felt touched that his Company cared as much for Bilbo as he did, and he could see from Dwalin’s expression that he felt the same way.
He clapped Bombur on the shoulder. “Thank you, for everything.”
Bombur blushed. “It’s not finished yet,” he said. “Bilbo said that they stir pennies into the pudding - finding one is meant to be lucky.”
He and Dwalin dropped quickly into a whispered conference. Pennies weren’t special enough. They refused to think of gold. In the end, they put a generous handful of gemstones into the mix, to match the Yule decorations they had already set up.
“There,” Dwalin said, flicking an emerald that had escaped back into the bowl. “Now all’s that left is the presents.”
The presents had been the easiest bit, for all of them. They’d all had ideas in mind for things that they wanted to give their hobbit.
Thorin and Dwalin had made him courting beads, almost as soon as Thorin had been able to stand, but they had not known how to even begin to offer them to Bilbo. Instead, they made him a pipe, and a holder to rest it on. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough for what they wanted to offer him, but it was a start.
---
Thorin had struggled to sleep the night before their party, and from Dwalin’s tossing and turning, he knew he felt the same.
After Bilbo’s first breakfast, as they had planned, the Company met in the room that they had decorated, waiting for Fili to lead Bilbo to his surprise.
The room was tense with anticipation as Fili cracked the door open, chattering away as Bilbo looked back at him. He turned around, and his eyes widened.
“What…?”
“Happy Yule!” the Company cheered at him, and Bilbo’s eyes turned suspiciously shiny.
“You didn’t have to do this just because I missed Yule at home,” Bilbo said, his voice wavering as he came closer to examine the decorations.
“Nah, we didn’t,” Bofur said with a grin. “They did.” He tilted his head towards Thorin and Dwalin, and Bilbo looked where he indicated.
Their eyes met, for the first time in what felt like weeks. He came slowly towards them, the whole Company going still, and threw his arms about both their shoulders (they both crouched down to make it easier for him).
“This is so beautiful,” he murmured to them. “Thank you.”
“We haven’t even given you your gifts yet,” Dwalin objected, petting his curly hair carefully.
Bilbo pulled away slightly, his eyes wide with dismay. “But I didn’t get you anything!”
“You could stay with us,” Thorin said, unplanned, and cursed himself. He hadn’t wanted to put Bilbo under any pressure.
“Only if you want to,” Dwalin chimed in hurriedly, giving Thorin a look. “But if you did want… aye. That would be a great gift.”
Bilbo stared at them, his hands clenching against their arms. “Really?” he asked, voice suddenly soft. “I didn’t think that you would want… after what I did...”
As one, they clasped him to them.
“Of course we do,” Dwalin rumbled into his ear. “Of course we do.”
“Always,” Thorin added, squeezing him even tighter.
“Then I’ll stay,” Bilbo said simply, curling even closer between them. There were cheers from the rest of the Company, and they eventually let go, all smiling with profound relief, and they made their way hand in hand back to the others.
Bilbo complimented the sparkly decorations (“wait until you see the pudding” Bombur added) and admired each of his gifts, and made his excitement for the meal well known. The entire time, he held on to their hands, or rested against them, staying close.
Thorin exchanged a glance with Dwalin, a silent plan agreed on. They still had a lot to talk about, the three of them, but it looked like they would need those courting beads later, after all.