He wandered through the mountain for what felt like hours. The cool breeze of the howling wind rushed into Erebor and pushed past the hobbit, making him shudder. The gleam of the dwarf gold shone beneath the pathway that Bilbo was walking across, far below him. The sickness that it held hadn’t taken the mind of the small hobbit, but it had given him a wary feeling and he walked quickly across the path and down some steps.
He came across the rooms of the mountain. It was kindly decorated, with carpets and intricate designs on the walls and door frames. Many doors stood on either side of the hallway, some open, revealing cushioned beds and wondrous paintings. Even with the dragon sickness hanging in the air like a heavy fog, the sight of such rooms were welcoming to the hobbit as they brought a sense of home to his mind.
Bilbo managed a smile as he wandered past the rooms, the thought of the previous acts leaving his mind. He trailed his hand lightly on the walls, outlining the designs that swirled and spiked. His eyes trailed upwards as he walked past the hallway, spotting beautiful lights that hung from the ceiling, gleaming with gems. The dwarf kingdom of Erebor was plentiful with their gold and jewels, and they seemingly made sure they had shown off their riches.
He made his way past multiple rooms, hallways and paths that eventually led him outside, to a balcony that resembled the ramparts that he was to be thrown over previously. However, that had left his mind as the cool wind pushed against his face and the golden light of the setting sun shone in his eyes. The golden light carried a sense of warmth, which he welcomed gladly. Bilbo closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling as a moment of silence hung across the land of Erebor.
Opening his eyes, he stepped forward, placing both hands on the rough, stony wall that stopped him from falling over the edge. Bilbo peered over the edge, his eyes meeting the sight of the golden army of elves that stood armed at the mountain door. War was amongst them, and it was clear to Bilbo that there was nothing in his power that could stop it. No matter how hard he tried, it seemed that Thorin had his mind set on not parting with a single coin of the treasure that lay in the towering piles in the mountain.
“Oh Thorin..” He mumbled aloud, his eyes fluttering as he felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “If only you could see what you have become” Bilbo Baggins breathed into the air, the wind almost carrying his weak voice instantly.
It was true to the hobbit that he had fallen in love with the brooding dwarf. Of course, they were nothing alike. In fact, they were almost completely opposite. Thorin Oakenshield was bold, brave and carried the courage of the greatest warrior within him. Whilst, Bilbo Baggins, to himself at least, was nothing more than a common hobbit who happened to be in his hobbit hole at the right time.
Despite their obvious differences, Bilbo Baggins had found himself truly smitten with the dwarf king. When he had realised it in his heart, he did not know. But he knew it was there, nonetheless. He had caught himself gazing apon the strong body of Thorin many times and often had himself shaken awake by another member of The Company. For it was obvious to the other dwarves that Bilbo felt something for the king, and they found themselves seeing the same love in the face of Thorin Oakenshield himself.
But it was unknown to each that the other had replicated the same feelings to one another. They were both seemingly blind in love, and it would seem that they would have to let their feelings known through words, perhaps it could take only three words. However, the hobbit did not see himself saying such words to the great dwarf anytime soon, for his shyness was a great obstacle in his way.
But, how could one expect the hobbit to say such a thing after what the dwarf had done just a mere hour ago? Bilbo had looked into the familiar blue eyes of Thorin and had not seen the same dwarf he had fallen in love with. The sickness of the gold had taken over his mind and had caused him to perform such actions, so Bilbo knew in his heart that it was not his Thorin that had done such a thing. But nonetheless, it still hurt like it had been him.
His heart ached and he bit down on his lip as he tried to bite back the tears that swelled up in his eyes, blurring his vision. A quick and sharp breath escaped his mouth, carrying with it a small yelp. He blinked and the tears started flowing down his face. Bilbo leaned against the rampart, burying his face in his hands. His breath was shaky and his sobs were muffled, but strong and from heartache. The hobbits’ face flushed red from the tears that didn’t stop trailing down his cheeks, dripping on his palms. He withdrew his hands and tilted his chin up, his eyes gazing at the sky as he continued to cry. The burglar had never cried with such agony and pain before in his life, as it was a new feeling to him that was not welcoming.
The young hobbit did not bring an end to his crying, however, when the heavy footsteps on rough ground came from behind him. They stopped in place just behind his small frame and he did not make himself turn around. He would not be able to bare to look into the pained expression of one of the dwarves of The Company as they saw him cry. However, as the hobbit breathed in, he recognised the familiar scent of sweat, the groggy smell of fur and wilderness that washed around him as he felt a strong, warm hand rest on his shoulder.
He knew that it was not one of the light-hearted dwarves of The Company that he had joined on this company that he had grown to be friends with, for only one belonged to that warm scent. And this only made Bilbo cry harder as he turned around to face the dwarf that had threatened his life an hour ago.
The sun casted a golden light on the face of Thorin Oakenshield, bringing out his features that he had come to love. His lips, his beard, his jawline, his sharp nose. A soft breath escaped Bilbo’s mouth as his eyes came to rest apon the beautiful, blue color of the eyes of the dwarf king. Before, he had seen nothing but a dark and cold gaze from the dwarf. But now, they held the familiar warmth and love that Bilbo found himself getting lost in countless times before they had arrived to Erebor.
Thorin warily raised a rough and calloused hand from his side and rested it against the wet cheek of his hobbit, softly stroking his tears away. Bilbo’s breathing eased and his crying had calmed down, but he could do nothing to stop the tears from falling from his eyes. Thorin leaned closer and dipped down his head, resting his forehead against Bilbo’s.
The dwarf closed his eyes and inhaled, his eyebrows furrowing as he seemed to silently apologise for his previous actions. The hobbit nodded as if to accept them, before he peeled his forehead away from Thorin’s and burred his face in the dwarfs’ fur coat, his tears still leaving his eyes as to never stop. Oakenshield sighed into Bilbo’s golden curls, before wrapping his strong arms around Bilbo’s back, bringing him in closer. They slid down against the ramparts, until they hit the ground with a soft thud. Thorin sat with his back against the rough, stone wall and his legs lay open and stretched out. Bilbo sat in his lap, his arms curled to his torso and his head resting against Thorins’ warm chest. His breathing slowed and his tears finally seemed to subside, drying on his face.
The pair sat that way for what seemed like hours, their chests falling and rising together as they breathed in unison. The sun had set and the dark blue sky was dusted with stars and a moon that beamed down on the two. Bilbo sat with his eyes closed, his head nestled against Thorins’ jaw. Thorin too, sat with his eyes closed, his mind thinking only of his hobbit. Bilbo felt a wave of exhaustion hit over him and he struggled to open his eyes and gaze at the dwarf that held him.
“Thorin..” The hobbit whispered, his eyes searching the face of his dwarf. The king opened his eyes, looking down at Bilbo lovingly. “Shh..” Thorin mumbled, placing a long, soft, warm kiss on Bilbo’s forehead, earning a warm blush to spread on the hobbits’ cheeks and ears. A subtle gasp left his mouth as Bilbo felt the warmth of Thorin’s kiss against his skin. “I am sorry for what I have done” The dwarf whispered against his skin, before placing a kiss on his nose. “I was too blind to see it” He mumbled, pulling back softly. Bilbo gazed into his eyes, smiling softly as the small hobbit raised a hand to rest apon Thorin’s rough skin.
“You have changed” Bilbo whispered, noting his selfish and dangerous actions that the dwarf had shown for the past few days. “I kept thinking to myself..” The hobbit began, taking a breath as he looked at Thorins’ lips and then back to his eyes. “That if anything were to happen, you would be forgiven. For the dwarf king that held me from the wall back there was not the same dwarf I met in Bag End” Bilbo said, nodding to himself as the words of love flowed out of his lips without him thinking of it. “For that dwarf was not the same dwarf I fell in love with” He hesitated before he concluded, a small smile playing apon his lips.
Thorin looked down at the young hobbit with confusion and shock. For all he had done to this burglar was nothing but talk of him as a burden, that he had no place amongst The Company. What had he done to deserve the love from this hobbit was unknown to him. A word did not leave the dwarfs mouth, but a new expression played on his face. Something of love, but perhaps even greater.
Thorin leaned down, his eyes closing softly and his lips met Bilbo’s. The hobbit shut his eyes and welcomed the warmth of Thorins’ kiss. The dwarfs’ lips felt rough, but moved softly against his. Bilbo had never felt more love within him, and couldn’t stop a wide smile crossing his face as Thorin reluctantly pulled back.
Beneath his beard and hair, Bilbo could’ve sworn he saw the dwarfs’ face flush red. The king smiled a wide smile, a low laugh rising in the back of his throat. The two beamed up at one another for a moment, each sharing a small laugh. Thorin’s smile dimmed softly as he raised a hand to Bilbo’s face.
“Amralime, I love you” Thorin cooed, his low voice rumbling in Bilbo’s chest. His heart melted and Bilbo raised his head to place a soft kiss on the kings’ nose.
“And I love you, my king” Bilbo mused, his emotions dancing.
They sat for a while longer, Bilbo twirling Thorins long hair softly as the king hummed a dwarvish tune. It took a bit for the hobbit to realise how long the two had been gone from the company of the dwarves.
“I’m afraid we should get back. Don’t want them worrying about us” Bilbo smiled, against Thorins’ chest, pushing himself up. Thorin followed, stretching his back softly.
“A grand idea, master burglar” The dwarf smiled, extending a hand towards the hobbit.
Bilbo looked up at Thorins’ handsome face and grinned lovingly. He could not believe what a day this day had been. The same dwarf who had almost thrown him off the ramparts now stood in his company, his eyes full of a warm love that Bilbo now cherished deeply. The hobbit grabbed his rough hand, and the two walked past doors, hallways and paths that Bilbo had only just passed hours ago, when he had felt alone and broken.
He laughed to himself. Pre-adventure, Bilbo Baggins would never have thought that such a silly thing as an adventure could turn into something even greater than the greatest of treasures.
An unlikely couple, no doubt. For one would’ve thought the last person that a great king like Thorin Oakenshield would fall for would be a common hobbit from the hobbit holes of The Shire. For the two bore very different backgrounds and different traits. But they both had the same love in their eyes and smiles, that they could almost be seen as the same. And such a love it was, for it could be felt from the dwarves when the two returned to The Company. It was a strong love that would last them all their lifetime.
…
And that love would never falter.
~x~
