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Everyone in the company was alive and well. That was always something to celebrate, especially when they had just been through one of the biggest battles in Middle Earth so far, massive enough to gain the title 'The Battle of Five Armies'.
The group of thirteen dwarrow and a hobbit were all quite merry to have lived through it with their lives and limbs in tact. After a few weeks of healing and sorting out jobs for Dain’s army that had aided them, they decided to celebrate their victory before the rest of the Erebor citizens showed up. And well, a dwarven party was never complete without endless barrels of mead.
The celebration had lasted for hours, and at this point in the evening, everyone was thoroughly hammered- no pun intended. Each member had taken a round to do a quick toast, and the more they drank, the shorter and more joke-like the toasts became. “We still haven’t heard a speech from our resident hobbit! What say you?” Fili slapped his hands on the table hard enough to make everything sitting on it shake.
Bofur yelled in agreement. "Aye! Toast! Toast! Toast!"
The long table overlapped in various shouts of encouragements and cheeriness and Bilbo grinned, standing up on the bench so all could see and hear him. "All of you damn dwarves are utterly ridiculous!" Bilbo shouted with a smile, "That being said, you lot were the best thing to happen to this old hobbit! Even if I was just fodder for a massive dragon!"
Everyone, including the hobbit laughed loudly and he sat back down, getting hard pats on the back from Balin and Ori who were on either side of him.
"One crispy little burglar coming up!" Kili's joke earned another round of roaring laughter.
Even Thorin was chuckling along to the joyous occasion. Why wouldn't he? They had all lived and now he was truly a king!
Bilbo sighed wistfully and stared at Thorin with longing and drunken thoughts, resting his chin on his hands. Thorin was much too handsome, and the poor hobbit had grown a rather large amount of feelings for him during the journey. Why wouldn’t he? Thorin was a brave warrior with dark, rugged looks and sharp eyes. Even if he was a bit hot-headed and stubborn sometimes, Thorin was quite a fair and reasonable sort as well. Bilbo liked to think they’d make a decent match, especially considering his own stubbornness, but that was nothing more than a silly dream.
"Hey Bilbo you alright lad?" Balin patted his shoulder making him jump.
"Ah, yeah! Sorry I got sleepy and zoned out." Bilbo sat up more and rubbed his face with one hand, feigning ignorance.
"Perhaps ya should sober up a bit. You'd been staring with a dopey-lookin' smile towards our king." Dwalin chucked across from the table, "Don't want none gettin’ the wrong idea."
Bilbo got up from his seat, "Perhaps i'll do just that."
He stumbled to the slowly repairing gates of Erebor, but as soon as he felt the chilly air, the hobbit made a hard left and went down to where his chambers were. If he was going to go out, he’d do so with a blanket. Bilbo wasn’t so drunk as to suddenly be okay standing outside in winter without some form of protection from the cold! That would be most unpleasant.
By the time Bilbo returned to the gate, wrapped in a thick, warm fur blanket, he noted it had grown ever colder. The warm light from the halls of Erebor bathed the snow outside the unfinished doors in an orange glow that stretched out bright and welcoming against the deep blue of the night. Bilbo had only stepped outside for a brief moment, breathing in the ice cold air that soothed his hot skin, when he noticed Thorin sitting in the snow by the entrance. The dwarven king was leaning back against the stone wall of the kingdom, his eyes closed. Oh dear. “Thorin?”
“Aye?” Thorin opened an eye to look at the hobbit.
Oh good, he didn’t fall asleep. Bilbo didn’t think he’d be able to move him back inside by himself. Surely it was much too cold to be sitting in the snow? Thorin was wearing his fur coat, but the hobbit had no idea how long he had been outside. “You’ll catch your death out here! Up you get!” Bilbo scolded as he threw the blanket he had over Thorin.
“Why do you hobbits have to be so fussy?” Thorin grumbled, but he obediently started to move from his spot.
Bilbo scowled at his tone and let annoyance flow into his own, “I’ll stop being ‘fussy’ over you damn dwarves when i’m good and dead, thank you very much!”
The hobbit grasped Thorin’s hand and helped steady him, and good thing, as the dwarf nearly slipped. He stumbled a bit, clasping his free hand firm on Bilbo’s shoulder, and Thorin looked down to make sure he was standing upright proper before he glanced at the hobbit.
Bilbo couldn’t read Thorin’s expression. He wasn’t sure if it was merely because of the mead fogging his brain, but Thorin was staring at him in a strange way. Bilbo let go of the dwarf’s hand and Thorin released his shoulder.
The hobbit turned to lead the way inside, but felt warm fingers slip into his palm again and he paused, looking back. Thorin’s hand was in his own. It wasn’t like they’d never touched before, but the way he was being held felt different than it had every other time. The dwarf’s hand was almost soft, and it made Bilbo’s most secretive thoughts surface again. He waited for Thorin to explain what he wanted, and he was surprised when Thorin gently tugged Bilbo towards him until they were standing very close. “You know… if you were a dwarrowdam, we could be so happy.”
Bilbo’s lungs lost all air for a moment. “P-Pardon?” The hobbit stammered, “I-I don’t think I heard you correctly.”
Thorin’s thumb rubbed the back of Bilbo’s hand. He wasn’t sure what this meant, but it brought a confusing twinge of distress and joy to his heart. “You are too soft-bellied and kind for this world, Bilbo Baggins.” Thorin’s voice held a tenderness he had never heard, “And yet I want nothing more than what you are.”
Was this real? “...And what am I to you?”
Bilbo couldn’t breath as the dwarf caressed the hobbit’s cheek in the gentlest of manners. Thorin leaned down and touched their lips together, and it made Bilbo so very dizzy. His eyes closed and he pressed back into the kiss. If this was a dream, Bilbo didn’t care to ever wake from it. Thorin pulled away slowly, and the hand that held the hobbit’s own let go, moving to his lower back.
Bilbo was brought closer to Thorin, and he placed his hands on the dwarf’s chest. Despite his face feeling flushed, and that blush reflecting on Thorin’s, his cobalt eyes held an anguish. “A precious gemstone I cannot have.”
Bilbo blinked. “Why can you not have me?” Surely he wouldn’t be daft enough to believe the hobbit would reject him?
Thorin closed his eyes, and when he blinked them open his gaze was more stoic. “My duties require otherwise. Marriages in dwarven culture, specifically for royalty, are to be for producing at least one offspring.”
“I didn’t say a word about marriage.” Bilbo felt warm at the idea, despite his words.
If Thorin was trying to be as closed off from his emotions as usual, he was doing quite a poor job. He seemed very much embarrassed and upset. “Maybe not, but is that not the purpose of falling in love?”
The hobbit’s heart skip a beat. Or two. Or three. “Falling in- oh Thorin... I didn’t know that’s how you felt.”
“How could I not?” Thorin brushed his thumb on Bilbo’s lower lip, “Maybe I am just an old fool, but my heart has been limited to you and you alone.”
Bilbo couldn’t suppress the small smile at those words. “You are no fool, Thorin Oakenshield. I love you more than I’ve loved anyone. I only kept it to myself in case I was the one who was just being foolish.”
The dwarf mirrored his smile and Bilbo was more than happy to meet Thorin halfway for another kiss. It was so very wonderful, and despite the cold nipping at him for not having quite enough layers on, Bilbo was very much warm all over.
“Perhaps,” The hobbit said quietly as they parted, playing with the thick fur lining Thorin’s coat, “Perhaps we don’t have to tell anyone? Would we be able to keep such a secret between us?”
“I would like that,” Thorin admitted, “But I cannot. You deserve more than just stolen moments and a hushed heart. I would not be able to provide that for you. My duty to my people overwrites all my own desires.”
Bilbo swallowed thickly. He wasn’t certain why Thorin admitted his feelings if it wasn’t able to go anywhere. Bilbo wanted whatever the dwarf could offer him, but that was apparently nothing. Why speak from the heart at all if you were to just immediately take it all away? Annoyance and painful longing filled the hobbit’s chest. “Then being a king is pointless and stupid. What is the point of leading your people if you would be judged over a harmless action you decide for yourself?!” Bilbo’s fingers tightened into fists against Thorin’s chest for a moment and he rested them flat again, speaking with bitterness, “Would the dwarrow really think so poorly on a relationship between their king and a hobbit? Would the company think us to be a disgrace too?”
Thorin’s thumb rubbed his cheek in soothing circles, but it did little to nullify Bilbo’s hurt. “I would think the company would understand, but no one else. My people would not know what to do without a ruler, and my nephews are much too young to take over.”
Bilbo bit his lip and dropped his gaze downward. “You would really give up the crown for me?”
The king sighed deeply. “If things were different, I would. You are more than I ever expected from an inexperienced and unruly burglar. I am grateful we were able to spend these months together.”
“Is there truly no way to make this any different?” This felt almost cruel.
“I cannot say… All I know, is that right now, I just want to stay outside with you under these stars. Would you like that too?” Bilbo looked up again, not at Thorin, but at the distant lights above their heads that coated the otherwise pitch blackness in a thick blanket of galaxies. He took a deep breath, his mind and heart tugging in opposite directions. Bilbo felt like the biggest fool ever when he looked into Thorin’s eyes again. Those usually cold, hard eyes that were the most vulnerable and soft. “I would.”
Bilbo followed Thorin a few paces away from the gate, to a more secluded spot. They sat down in front of a large chunk of stone that had once blocked the way into Erebor. Bilbo had all but forgotten to get his blanket back from the king’s shoulders. He was too busy looking at Thorin, who still watched the sky, and at the empty, snowy field they were in front of. The quiet of the night would trick anyone into thinking nothing had happened here at all, and yet it was a mere few weeks ago this had been a battleground.
White clouds billowed with each breath and Bilbo felt himself ache all over again as he remembered just how close Thorin had been to losing his life. So much had happened in the past year, and yet, right now still somehow felt worse than anything else he’d faced. “I really am a fool.”
Thorin turned his attention to Bilbo. “Why?”
The hobbit grimaced, but his anger at the situation had been replaced with a growing misery. “I have fallen for a king who can’t return any affections, no matter how much we both long for it.”
Thorin let out a breath and took Bilbo’s hand in his again, interlocking their fingers. “I’m sorry. I would call you mine in a heartbeat if I could.”
Bilbo bit his lip. Everything hurt. “Can we pretend I am yours, and you are mine? Just for right now?” He could hear the desperate plea in his voice.
Thorin briefly squeezed his hand. “I’d like that very much.”
“I love you, Thorin.” Bilbo knew he was digging himself deeper.
He shouldn’t let this continue, yet Thorin said the words that made the poor hobbit’s heart cry out in need. “I love you as well, Bilbo.”
Bilbo sighed, leaning against Thorin with a fuzzy mind and aching heart. Life was certainly the most cruel thing. “If we were together, what would our life be like, do you think?”
A warm hand touched his cold shoulder. His coat was much too thin without his blanket. Thorin encouraged him closer, and Bilbo found himself between the dwarven king’s legs, with his back pressed against Thorin's chest, resting comfortably and warm. Thorin pulled the blanket around the hobbit and held him in his arms. Bilbo was certain that to any onlookers he would seem utterly ridiculous drowning in the large amounts of fur, but there was no one else around but them, and that felt quite ideal at the moment.
Thorin's voice was sweet like honey. “We’d wake up every morning together in a lavish bed, but we’d refuse to get up for hours so we could just lie with each other.”
Bilbo looked up and met Thorin's eyes,“You would complain about being hungry while also refusing to let me out of bed to go make breakfast.” The hobbit said.
Thorin smiled warmly. “That sounds about right. I’d want my hobbit with me at all times.”
Bilbo chuckled. “We’d spend the morning reading and relaxing together-”
“What of my duties?”
“Disregard it all. We’d live in my home in the Shire.” Bilbo's tone was firm; If this life would exist, it would be a simple life.
“Would we now?” Thorin's tone was teasing.
“We would." Bilbo huffed, but there was no annoyance behind it, "You’d be the town’s blacksmith, and I’d teach you how to garden.”
Thorin hummed, resting his bearded chin on Bilbo's curls. “Hmm, I’m afraid I have a terrible green-thumb.”
The hobbit scoffed. “Then I’d boot you to do other chores! You could fix my damn fence. It squeaks you know.”
He could imagine Thorin doing just that. He'd work on the gate for only a few minutes, fixing the hinges with ease, and then would decide the whole fence needed a new coat of paint.
Thorin's voice was soft. “Does it now? What else would we do?”
He was so warm against the hobbit, and it put his mind at ease. Bilbo didn't care if this was just a fantasy, it was as real as right now. “We’d bake for hours. All the pastries we could ever want, and chase away company, because we’d only need each other's."
“That sounds nice.” Thorin sounded wistful.
“Yes,” Pleasant ideas swam around the hobbit's head, “And we’d have dinner under candlelight and talk about our adventure.”
Thorin's hold tightened. Bilbo could imagine he was feeling the same way right now. The dwarf added his own imagination in, “You wanted to write a book about it, did you not? You would read it out loud and get my opinion on certain events.”
“And I’d make you out to be this big brave warrior who’s a bit thick-headed.” The hobbit lightly pestered.
He heard a low chuckle that made his spine tingle in a very pleasant way. “Hey now! Only if you made sure to add in that you were a nag over the smallest things.”
He had to compromise then. Well, perhaps that would be just fine. “Fair enough.”
They both grew quiet for a long moment. What would go next after a lovely, quiet day? Thorin decided to continue next. “We’d be cozy by the fire and smoke our pipeweed as we told each other tales of our lives before all this.”
Bilbo gasped. “Smoking in the house? My old grandmother Took would have our heads!” Not to mention how difficult it would be to get the smell of smoke out of the drapes!
Thorin quietly scoffed. There was a touch of longing and sorrow as he spoke, “And after a blissful day of just doing chores and baking, we’d retire to our room, and I'd make love to you.”
Bilbo inhaled sharply, his heart fluttering, and he spoke again with sorrow of his own, "It would be quite beautiful, wouldn’t it? It’d be soft and slow…”
“-Because we’d have all the time in the world. No responsibilities, no worries, no obligation but to each other.” Thorin let out a long sigh, tilting his head to press his cheek on the top of the hobbit's head.
Bilbo felt his eyes grow wet and his vision blur. This was the most unfair. The hobbit spoke barely above a whisper. “And every night I’d tell you I love you.”
Thorin swallowed, “And every morning I’d tell you the same.”
Bilbo leaned back, closer to the dwarf, and felt arms tighten around him enough to almost hurt. “I would cherish each moment, knowing you’d be there for me always.” Bilbo sucked in a sharp but shaking breath.
Thorin hesitated on his answer to that, and Bilbo realised from a soft sniffle that Thorin was crying as well. “I’d love you until the day I die, and even past that, because my soul would go wherever you are.”
Bilbo pulled himself out of the firm grasp and turned around, immediately wrapping his arms around Thorin and burying his face in his neck. He couldn’t stop the slip of a quiet sob. Both were trying very hard not to lose themselves completely. Thorin’s face was in the hobbit's shoulder, his breathing ragged and uneven; his arms tight and shaking around Bilbo. They both stayed there together, weeping quietly and with broken hearts, longing for a life that was nothing more than a wonderful daydream.