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Of all the dwarrow, it is Dwalin who comes to him.
He approaches Bilbo with two bowls of Bombur's latest concoction, which is surprisingly tasty. Dwalin sits beside him with no ceremony, not even any politeness, and shoves the bowl into Bilbo's hands.
Bilbo is just grateful for the momentary distraction, unfortunately this is when Dwalin speaks.
"I would ask that you at least consider his suit. I know you dinno begin well, but he would be good to yeh, I promise yeh."
Bilbo sighs through his mouthful of stew and does not answer.
Dwalin makes an answering noise, but it is not angry. "It's just...he's my best friend. Even before he was my king. So it's hard for me, for us, to see him suffer so. So, if yeh can consider him, all o'us would...well."
Bilbo has never heard so many words out of Dwalin before, and he's flabbergasted, the bowl sitting forgotten in his lap.
For the first time in two days, Bilbo lifts his head and looks, really looks, at his friends.
They are all looking at him, albeit as subtly as they can. They are looking at Thorin in the same way.
Thorin, who is sitting across the fire from him. Thorin, who usually eats with Dwalin. Thorin who is currently sitting and eating by himself.
Bilbo stands, and makes his way across the fire.