Bilbo Baggins always considered himself a good, sensible, hobbit. He enjoyed reading, cooking, and eating just like all the other Hobbits. He didn’t contemplate adventures, at least not too much after he became an adult, and he certainly didn’t have loud dwarves as guests in his home. Especially uninvited dwarves in his home. It just wasn’t the kind of hobbit that Bilbo Baggins, of Bag End, was.
“Yet I’m still here,” he sighed to himself, head shaking mournfully as he watched the camp fire burn slow and hot, taking its troubles with its red flames into the cold air that surrounded everything around the company. It wasn’t as though Bilbo didn’t want to be here he was, he most certainly did, but he missed the comforts of home. He missed the knowledge of exactly what was going to happen the next day, he missed his comfortable bed, and most of all, he missed his books. But that was why he was helping the dwarves after all; they didn’t have any of what he thought of for decades. Who was he to complain when his thirteen companions didn’t have a home to go back to?
His eyes glanced over his companions as he sighed, shifting in his spot on the floor in a poor attempt to make himself comfortable. Kili and Fili were the entertainment of the group, always having something to laugh about or a joke to tell. Bombur always had something to eat with him, making sure that no one went hungry, especially himself. Bofur was the one who cared about everyone in the party, Bifur was silent and Bilbo worries for the man’s sanity, Balin was the one that Bilbo could talk to about essentially anything, Dwalin fought well and Bilbo was slightly afraid of the dwarf, and then Thorin, who quite honestly terrifies Bilbo yet thrills him in a way that nothing else has.
The hobbits blue eyes traced Thorin’s face before quickly looking away. He wasn’t about to get caught appreciating their leaders face, not by Thorin or anyone else for that matter. He was still trying to understand what was happening to him, and there was no reason to get the rest of the dwarves to tease him about having feelings for the dwarf king. It just wasn’t something he wanted, not when they had a dragon to kill and a mountain to reclaim.
“Bugger this,” he muttered as he shifted once more, knowing that Gandalf will return as early as possible and make them start their journey once more as soon as he appears, which simply means that whatever sleep Bilbo plans on getting should be happening now instead of allowing his brain to think about absolutely everything that isn’t sleep.
“Are you alright, halfling?” A deep voice rumbled through Bilbos thoughts, drawing his attention back to the dwarf king.
A blush spread through the hobbits cheeks as he shifted once more before replying, ”Y-Yes, I’m alright. Just trying to get comfortable, that’s all.” He assured before shifting yet again, “Sorry to disturb you.” He added as an afterthought. He knew that Thorin had essentially accepted him as a useful member of the company when he saved the kings life, but that didn’t remove Bilbo’s need to prove himself. He didn’t want to be a nuisance to anyone, especially not Thorin.
“You are not disturbing anyone, halfling. I am keeping watch.” Deep blue eyes stared at Bilbo as the hobbit listened to the dwarf speak. There was something fascinating about the way that Thorin managed to keep his face completely emotionless, yet his eyes spoke of things he did not understand. It made Bilbo that much more intrigued as to the mystery that was Thorin. He knew that he shouldn’t feel intrigued or fascinated by the dwarf king, yet there was simply no way that the hobbit could stop himself. It was as if Thorin was the finest pipe weed in Middle Earth, and Bilbo couldn’t keep himself from desiring only a small whiff.
Realizing that he should probably be saying something to the dwarf, he said the first thing that came to mind, “The sky sure is beautiful tonight.” It was, though it definitely isn’t the best one they’ve seen. When looking back at Thorin, it was as if he knew that Bilbo had said whatever came to mind as there was amusement twinkling in the dwarf’s eyes.
“It is a sight.” The dwarf replied quietly, his eyes not leaving the fire. Bilbo, knowing that was he was planning on doing was risky, quietly stood up and walked over to Thorin, taking the spot to his left. He knew there was no sleep for him in a while, not in the area he was previously sleeping in with the symphony of dwarven snoring all around him, and the fire was warm so it might lull him to sleep.
At least that was what he was telling himself.
“It’s too cold and loud over there,” He muttered loud enough for Thorin to hear. The hobbit didn’t want to look at Thorin for fear of his reaction to the sudden proximity of the hobbit, so his gaze never left the fire. He watched as the flames danced an intricate dance that only fire knew, drawing Bilbo’s wonder. It was both beautiful and dangerous, and dangerous things seemed to be drawing the hobbit’s attention quite a bit lately.
“Of course,” Was all Bilbo received as an answer, making the hobbit take a glance at the dwarf before he made himself comfortable. There was a small smile on the king’s lips, making a warm feeling spread through the other man’s chest, and made the hobbit feel comfortable.
Before he knew what was happening, the hobbit’s vision began to darken as his eyelids began to fall down. He wanted to both sleep and stay awake, yet his body seemed to have decided that sleep was much better. His head rolled to the side as he looked for some form of a headrest, which it found after a moment of searching. Finally becoming comfortable, as well as quite warm, the hobbit’s remaining conscious left to the world of dreams.
Sadly, Bilbo didn’t realize that the headrest was Thorin. The dwarf stared at the smaller creature for a moment before laughing quietly to himself and dropping a small kiss to the hobbit’s forehead.
“Sleep well, Bilbo Baggins. There is a long journey ahead.”