Hello!
Another new story - sorry...
I have a great fondness for the Hobbit in all it's forms, but especially the Peter Jackson films, so here is my second foray into the world of Middle Earth, only this one is quite unashamedly Bagginshield, and will be rated M from the start because I know where I want this to go. I hope you'll take the journey with me, but if it's not your cup of tea then I understand that too, and may see you in another universe...

xXx

The company stood looking on in horror, guessing Thorin's next move would be to thrust their burglar over the parapet. Not one of them expected what happened next.

As the King's hands tangled in Bilbo's clothing the hobbit flung himself backwards pulling the dwarf off balance, and then using his weight advantage Bilbo swung him around and slammed him against a stone pillar. Before he had a chance to regain his breath Thorin's mouth was covered by warm questing lips.

Bilbo stepped back, breathless, staring up into the dwarf King's wide eyes.

"If you are going to kill me for trying to prevent the Dragon-sickness from destroying everything you have fought for," he said calmly. "Then you will at least know, before I die, how I feel about you."

Below them, outside the ruined gates of Erebor, Gandalf sat alongside King Thranduil and Bard the Dragonslayer, waiting for the next move. The silence from within the stronghold was ominous, yet neither man nor elf said a word, both looking to the wizard to take the lead.

"Thorin Oakenshield!" Gandalf's voice boomed upwards, reverberating through the very stones of Erebor. "I insist that, if you have no further use for him, you return the burglar into my safekeeping."

It was almost a shock-wave of sound and for the dwarves, standing frozen as they were at the turn of events, it was a catalyst to move.

As one Fili and Kili leapt forward to stand between their uncle and the unfortunate halfling.

"Let him go." Kili pleaded softly.

"Uncle…"

Drawing himself up to full height Thorin pushed the two young dwarves aside and glared down into Bilbo's dark blue eyes.

"Get out, traitor." He snarled. "You are no longer welcome in Erebor." He watched as Bilbo swallowed yet bravely kept his head held high. "The next time we meet I'll spit you on Orcrist and feed your carcass to the Orcs and Wargs."

Giving a brief nod of his head the Hobbit took another step back, and turning to grab the rope he had hidden amongst the stone pillars flung the loose end over the parapet. With a last anguished look back at the company Bilbo hopped up onto the defensive structure, then lowered himself down to the waiting wizard as swiftly as he dared.

xXx

It was a silent group that returned to encampment within and around Dale. Sitting up behind Gandalf on the back of his pony, Bilbo wondered if things would have been different – better – if he'd confessed his feelings for Thorin earlier. As it was he couldn't be sure that the stubborn dwarf king had recognised the kiss for what it was; a declaration of love, a promise to be there for him, a vow of friendship.

No, Bilbo shook his head at his own fancies, the sickness was too strong, and it held Thorin tightly in its thrall.

Bard dropped back to ride alongside him.

"Are you well Master Baggins?" he asked, his eyes full of concern.

Bilbo forced a smile.

"I'm fine." He said. "And at least I'm alive – I might have known how he'd react…"

"Oakenshield has his grandfather's sickness." Bard gestured towards Thranduil. "He saw its birth in Thror before the dragon attacked, I've seen it in the Master."

"Gold fever?" Glancing over his shoulder Bilbo could see those he'd once called friends watching as they retreated. "I had hoped he was stronger than that."

Bard grimaced.

"That was a brave decision you took, to give away the Arkenstone, especially..." he paused and looked down at the Hobbit. "Especially when you feel the way you do about him." This last was said so softly that Bilbo almost convinced himself that he'd imagined it, but when he glanced across he could see pity in the man's eyes.

Was he really so transparent? He wondered if Thorin had known, if he had dismissed it as unwanted or just a means to an end. Had he used Bilbo's feelings to ensure his continued help? Would the dwarf king be that cruel?

Looking away he said nothing, there was after all nothing he could say, and as to airing his feelings in public, well he'd done enough of that for one day.

xXx

The once merry band of displaced dwarves returned to the lower halls, their search for the Arkenstone no longer necessary – they knew exactly where it was, had seen the undisguised glee in Thranduil's hooded eyes as he watched realisation dawn on Thorin's face.

Warily they avoided the throne room, the King's room, where Thorin now sat brooding over the loss of his grandfather's jewel.

"I can't believe Bilbo really believed he could take the Arkenstone as his fourteenth share." Dori shook his head, bewildered.

"Nor did he laddie." Balin paused on his way to their shared sleeping area. "He saw it, long before I realised what was happening. He saw the madness descending, and tried to protect Thorin from himself."

"Did he mean what he said? About his feelings and….and everything?" Ori had come to look up to Bilbo, or as much as the taller young dwarf could look up to someone over a foot shorter than he. The hobbit had never made fun of him, nor belittled his skills with a slingshot, and he always surprised them with his courage and fortitude.

And Ori's soft heart ached for the loss of the friend, and that friend's lost love.

He suddenly realised that Bofur was speaking, cursing soundly and kicking at the gold beneath their feet.

"…that even I could see it!" he huffed angrily. "Thorin was never before so shortsighted."

"It seems I was." A deep quiet voice spoke from the far end of the room. "I thought he understood our quest, I thought he was as trustworthy as Gandalf had promised, but it seems I was taken in by both of them. This I should have known, when the wizard insisted on seeking help from the elves in Rivendell."

"Without Elrond's help we would never have known where to look for the door." Balin pointed out reasonably.

"And without the halfling's treachery I could have claimed my birthright, we could have reclaimed our home without fear of challenge."

"No one would challenge you…"

"Yes Dwalin – there are many who would challenge my right to this." He waved a hand around him at the gold and precious stones. "Some would even say that this was theirs to share."

"Thranduil." Nori said to no-one in particular.

"And the men of Lake Town." Gloin grumbled.

"No, wait!" Fili stood up, glaring at his companions. "Suddenly this is all Bilbo's fault? Thranduil would always have tried to stake a claim, and uncle, you promised the people of Lake Town that they would share in the riches of Erebor! Bilbo gave his…" Fili's voice trailed off as he realised what he was about to say. That their feisty little burglar had put his word, his honour, on the line for them; staked his honour for Thorin's sake.

"Bilbo gave his word that you could be trusted." Kili finished his brother's sentence, not daring to raise his eyes to his uncles face – he didn't want to see the madness there.

"Bah!" Thorin spat. "He's nothing, a mere tool in our quest, and his word, his honour means little compared to that of the dwarves of Erebor. I told Gandalf that I would not, could not be responsible for him, and my earlier suspicions that he would be nothing but a plague and a hindrance to us has been proven. I'll hear no more about him!"

xXx

In the Elven King's settlement outside the ruined gates of Dale a fierce quarrel was raging.

"You should have left it to me!" Gandalf thumped his fist on the table. "He might have killed Mister Baggins!"

A cool eyebrow was raised as Thranduil looked down his nose at Bilbo.

"My concern is not for one life, but for many." He said with a careless wave of his hand towards where the survivors from Lake Town and the contingent of his Elven army were making the most of the shelter of the ruined city, sharing out food and blankets, working together despite their natural suspicion of each other's race. "And as I said, this tame burglar of yours was foolish enough to free the dwarves from my cells – did he really expect them to treat him well once they had what they had come for?"

During this discussion he had been examining the loose threads in his trousers, but now Bilbo's head shot up and he glared at the tall slender creature sitting opposite him.

"Thorin Oakenshield is an honourable dwarf." He declared angrily. "He's just…"

"Just what?"

"Tired, overwrought, and yes, probably ill, but he's far more honourable than many I have met in my travels!"

"And you have travelled so far, so often."

Thranduil's tone, although meant to deflate the little creature, just made Bilbo angrier.

"I have travelled sufficiently to know honour and courage when I see it, as well as I know deceit and dishonesty." His eyes narrowed pointedly. "I also recognise when a race chooses to be self-serving, caring only for themselves and no-one else."

Reference to Thranduils refusal to concern himself over the fate and welfare of others bit into the elven King's pride, but not a flicker of his thoughts crossed his countenance.

"This is getting us nowhere." Bard interrupted the argument. "I know nothing of past selfish behaviour, nor why Thorin Oakenshield hates the whole of elf-kind, what I do know is that my people will starve or die of exposure if we do not have money to buy food and supplies with which to re-build Dale."

"Your people?" Gandalf drawled softly. "Are you claiming sovereignty over the men of Lake Town?"

"No," Blowing out a breath of pure frustration Bard sat back in his chair. "But they seem to think that I am the man for the job." He laughed mirthlessly. "And all I want is to see my children safe and to go about my business, such as it is."

The wizard nodded.

"You are in an unenviable position then my friend." He said sagely. "If you succeed in solving their problems you are stuck with a job you'd rather not have. But if you fail…" His bushy eyebrows rose. "Why then you become a target for their anger – and there is nothing safe about that for your family."

While man, elf and wizard continued to argue about how to deal with the oncoming winter and the unhappy stalemate with the King under the Mountain, Bilbo slipped out of the tent and walked off into the fading daylight, intent on nothing more than finding himself a quiet spot to think.

And think he did. Sitting just outside the encampment, but within sight of the elven guards, Bilbo let his thoughts wander back to the days after their rescue from the Orcs, when the eagles had carried them to the eerie high above the Great River of Wilderland, before ever they thought of traversing Mirkwood.

Thorin's apology for his doubts, his final acceptance of the hobbit as one of their number had gladdened the little creature's heart, and he had smiled even as he had choked down the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. He had known even then that the strong, dark haired, magnificent dwarf king had stolen his affections, and he would not have had it any other way.

Now, as he stared across the land that Balin had referred to as the desolation of Smaug, Bilbo truly understood the meaning of desolation. The soft hearted Baggins side of him wished that Thorin had thrown him to his death, while his Took blood argued that where there was life there was hope, and there was still adventure to be had in trying to win the king's good favour once more.

A soft hand dropped lightly onto his shoulder, and he looked up to see a captain of Thranduil's guard standing behind him, a strange look on her face.

"Why are you alone, Halfling? Have you been ejected from the peace talks?" Tauriel asked.

"No," Bilbo shrugged. "Ejected from Erebor. I took myself away from the talks because King Thranduil and I have opposing views on honour."

Tauriel's laugh was light, pleasant.

"A wise move then." After a moment her eyes moved towards the Lonely Mountain. "I trust Kili and his friends returned safe home?"

The hobbit glanced up swiftly at her use of the young prince's name, but in the fading light her ethereally beautiful face gave no sign that her question was anything other than politeness.

"Yes… yes he did – they all did – thanks, I understand, to you."

"He was…"

"Dying. Yes, Oin told me. I know his uncle is grateful for your skill and kindness."

At that Tauriel looked down, a smile lightening her face.

"Is he really? Did he tell you that himself?"

Bilbo blushed.

"Well, not in so many words." He replied. "But it's easy to see if you know what you're looking for. He loves those boys as if they were his own sons."

"And they him?"

"And they him." The hobbit agreed softly.

The elf captain and the hobbit let the silence settle around them, both staring off towards the rapidly darkening mountain.

From within the glow of torchlight turned the battlements a soft orange colour, although from where they were it was just a mere line of light within the shadowed landscape.

Tauriel left the Halfling to his thoughts, slipping away as silently as she had come and pausing only to instruct the guard to keep watch over little creature.

Unmoving, Bilbo continued to stare at the dwarves lost-and-found home of Erebor, until the night was so black it covered even the torchlight from within.

xXx

Alone amidst the piles of gold and jewels Thorin Oakenshield sulked.

That was the only word for what he was doing – refusing to join his nephews and his friends, choosing to sit alone atop his uncomfortable mountain of riches and brood about the loss of a solitary stone. The Arkenstone.

Not any old stone, he argued to himself, but the stone of kings, the stone which, had he taken possession of it, would have proved beyond doubt his claim to his grandfather's throne.

Instead, with his back to that same throne he let the coins and precious stones trickle through his fingers, every now and then clenching his fist as if imagining the halfling's neck within his grasp.

The Halfling.

Thorin couldn't bring himself to even think the hobbit's name, let alone say it out loud, so all-consuming was his anger towards the little burglar.

For the hundredth time since the treachery had been confessed the dwarf king wondered why. What had he done to deserve such betrayal?

He frowned then, and ran the tips of his fingers across his lips.

The hobbit had surprised him with his strength and cunning, throwing him off balance when he was trying to throw him off the parapet! If he wasn't so angry Thorin might even have seen the funny side of the skinny little thing getting the better of a trained warrior like that.

And even his anger couldn't wipe out the feeling of soft lips against his, the merest hint of tongue flickering across his lower lip before being withdrawn.

And his words.

His cheeks felt strangely warm as he remembered, but he put the heat down to the flickering torchlight as he tried to convince himself that the only feelings between himself and the Halfling were not good feelings, surely? But then, if that were true why the kiss?

It made his head ache trying to puzzle it out, and leaping to his feet he grabbed a handful of gold and flung it across the chamber.

And it was Bofur's misfortune to, at that very moment walk in to said chamber. He cursed roundly as he ducked the flying coins.

"What do you want?" the dwarf king roared, more angry now because he had been caught in an act of pure frustration.

"Balin sent me to tell you there is food for you if you want it."

Thorin frowned at him.

"Food?"

"You know, the stuff you eat? Fills yer belly and makes fighting a damn sight easier." Bofur was almost as angry as Thorin himself. "It's the last of the decent food, after that we're down to hard biscuits and thin ale, so if you don't want your share we'll dole it out between us."

With a roar like a wounded animal Thorin threw himself at the other dwarf.

"How dare you speak to me like that?" His hands were around Bofur's throat before he knew it, but the other dwarf fought back.

"Or what?" he yelled, his voice echoing around the chamber. "You'll banish me too? Or kill me?"

Drawing in a steadying breath Bofur stepped away.

"Thorin, you need all the allies you can get. We both know that Azog won't rest until he's wiped out Durin's line. Just… come and eat. The lads need to know that you're still with us."

"Azog!" Thorin snarled

Giving the dwarf king a shove Bofur herded him from the room.

"Come on." He commanded. "Food."

xXx

On the battlements Gloin and Nori shared the watch, leaning on the stone parapet and drawing gently on their pipes.

"What do you think he's doing now?"

They both knew of whom Nori spoke.

"With Gandalf and the others, enjoying some real food, I imagine."

"What do you think he meant about Thorin knowing how he felt?"

Gloin nearly choked on his pipe.

"For the love of Mahal, are you determined to be stupid? Did you not see the way the Halfling looked at him?"

"Hero-worship." Nori shrugged.

"Bah!" Gloin spat back. "Hero worship? That little hobbit has more heroism in his little finger than the rest of us put together." He held up a hand to forestall Nori's denials. "We fight, that's what we do! There's none more skilled nor more willing than our company, but Bilbo Baggins isn't a dwarf – he isn't a fighter. In fact, I didn't expect him to last past the first set-back or mis-hap, but he saved us from the trolls, who knows how he managed to get out of the goblin caves unscathed, and then look at how he took on a warg to save Thorin's life!"

Gloin gazed for a moment towards the distant lights of Dale.

"Did you not notice?" he asked eventually. "His eyes would follow Thorin around, and there was a look in them, when he thought Thorin couldn't see him….reminds me of the way I've caught my wife looking at me." He thought for a moment then chuckled. "Fond exasperation, and a heavy dose of love."

Now it was Nori's turn to choke.

"Love?" he spluttered.

"Aye." Gloin said quietly. "And don't you pretend you didn't know."

Nori's lip curled in a sneer, but he held his peace and the two resumed their watch.

A little while later, Gloin was rudely jabbed in the ribs by Nori's elbow.

"I wasn't asleep." He spluttered.

"Whether you were or you weren't is no matter." Nori replied. "What do you think is going on over there?"

They both peered into the distance.

A single light had detached itself from the edge of the lights of Dale and was moving slowly towards and slightly to the left of the Lonely Mountain.

It didn't travel far, but stopped for several long moments before returning once more to the ruined city.

Gloin shrugged.

"Nothing I'll wager, just a guard stretching his legs a bit."

With a slight huff Nori nodded and turned away to refill his pipe.

If either dwarf had been gifted with night vision they would have seen, on the periphery of Dale an Elven captain and tall wizard.

Tauriel led Gandalf to where she had left Bilbo, and there on the rocks they found him curled in a tight ball, his blue robe pulled close around him, fast asleep.

The Elf held the torch while Gandalf crouched down beside his burglar. He looked exhausted, and far too pale even in the yellow flame, and so very gently the wizard lifted him up and carried him back to shelter and a makeshift bed.

Tonight was no night to be sleeping alone in the dark – Gandalf knew it was only a matter of time before this quiet interlude ended.