When Thorin had woken from his coma after the Battle of Five Armies, he was surrounded by the company and many healers. He was thankful that he had returned to this life and that both his nephews had also made it through, surviving from their serious wounds as well. Things seemed to be light and joyous then, but Thorin soon came to realize another familiar face was missing from the tent. Balin, one of Thorin's greatest friends, noticed the sense in the dwarf king and had told Thorin of the hobbit's departure when Thorin had been in the midst of healing. After the white-haired dwarf told him of his friend leaving, Thorin couldn't help but notice the growing empty hole in his heart. His One was missing from his life.

"Master Bilbo," a hobbit began, nodding to the Baggins sitting on the bench outside his door and smoking a pipe. "Good day."

Bilbo nodded in return but didn't say a word. Ever since he had returned from Erebor, something about his 'new' life at his freshly reclaimed Bag End just didn't seem right and Bilbo could still not put his finger on it. At first, he thought it was simply that he had been living with a bunch of rowdy dwarfs for several months and this quiet life of the Shire wasn't what he had been used to. Then, once the hobbit had settled back into his old routine, he noticed he no longer had the proper energy to do things in his life. He no longer checked the post; the old hobbit that delivered it had to personally knock on Bilbo's door and hand him the mail. His nephew Frodo often visited to help Gaffer's son tend to the garden and run errands to the town. Not once did Bilbo feel like doing anything special, even go on another adventure.

"Uncle, is there anything for Sam and I to do today?" a young hobbit with dark brown curls atop his head.

The other hobbit jerked out of his thoughts and gave a small smile to Frodo. "Nothing today, lad," he said with a shake of his head. "Perhaps you could help Sam with his garden."

Frodo shook his head. "Master Gaffer won't let me," he replied. "Says we Bagginses shouldn't be doing Gamgee work."

Bilbo let out a brief chuckle. "That is right, my boy. Ol' Gaffer means well when he says that," he said. "Known him many years and even once did he physically push me off of my own garden so he could tend to it himself."

"Really, Uncle?" the younger hobbit asked.

"Yes," Bilbo replied easily. "But that was before my little adventure."

Frodo frowned slightly. "Uncle, you never did tell me about your adventure."

Bilbo stopped smoking his pipe and looked out onto the rolling hills of the Shire as he thought. "I have never told you of my adventure because the tale is not finished yet," he said, his voice in an almost mournful tone.

"A tale?" Frodo asked curiously. "Of what? I thought you meant you were writing your adventure with that big group of dwarfs Mama told me came and took you away."

A light smile lit the older hobbit's face. "Thirteen dwarfs and one meddling wizard to be exact, Frodo," Bilbo replied. "But the tale that is not quite done yet is the story of how one of the most respectable hobbits of the Shire came to love the mightiest and strongest dwarf king." He sighed heavily and shook his head. "Enough plans for today, my lad. My heart can only take so much sorrow these days..."

"Sorrow?"

"My dear boy," Bilbo began with another sigh. "One day I shall tell you what really happened that night and why I mean when I say 'sorrow'." With that, Bilbo nodded to his young nephew and retreated back into his house, closing the green round door with a click.

After sunset, Bilbo found himself sitting quietly in the armchair, the same one he had rescued from the Sackville-Bagginses raid a few months ago, with nothing but a book in his hand. He wasn't even reading the book, it was just laying on his lap as the hobbit stared at the fire in front of him.

Suddenly, he heard the door open and shut. Bilbo sat up at attention for a mere minute before remembering Frodo was supposed to come by that day with food from the market. Sighing, he looked down at his book before leaning his head back against the back of the armchair and closing his eyes.

The floor creaked quietly and a heavy sigh was heard, but Bilbo didn't open his eyes.

"You're ill," a voice observed gently. "I would have expected to see you the same again."

Bilbo frowned, opened his eyes, and peered at the person in the room. "What are you doing here?" he asked warily. "I believe we have said our apologies. I cannot see why you are here in my house again."

"I came for you," the voice said.

"Thorin," Bilbo sighed. "I don't have time for this. I have been trying my best to get rid of you, and yet you want to come over here and whisk me away to Erebor again?" Bilbo let out an exasperated sigh and slammed his book on the table in front of him before glaring at the dwarf. "I have moved on from you and your gold-sickness-"

"I told you I was blinded by that," Thorin assured. "I came back for you, Bilbo-"

"And I'm not going to Erebor with you," Bilbo retorted. "I am a Baggins, and we Bagginses never want another adventure, one that will surely take our friends' lives."

"Bilbo, I don't think you understand-"

"Oh, what?" Bilbo asked, a bit flustered. "I have no choice since you are the King under the Mountain, and what you say is law? Well, Master Oakenshield, you are just going to have to return to Erebor without me. I will never set foot in that kingdom again!" he choked out before continuing in a quieter and softer tone. "Too many horrible memories are there..."

Thorin nodded in agreement. "Bilbo, I have no intention in returning to Erebor," he confessed, giving Bilbo a small smile when the hobbit's head shot up.

"What?!" Bilbo demanded.

"I have given the crown to my cousin Dain," Thorin replied smoothly. "When I woke and you were not there, I knew I could never run Erebor and be the best king they deserved. No, I needed something more important to me." Thorin sighed heavily. "You see Bilbo, when I woke, Balin told me you had left Erebor. I... I couldn't think straight after that. I spent hours and days and weeks wondering if you had made it back to the Shire, if you had stayed in Rivendell, or if you had found some pretty hobbit lass..."

"Why would you care about who I marry?" Bilbo asked defensively with a frown.

Thorin sighed and ran a hand through his long hair. "We were all distraught when you left. Fili and Kili moped around the mountain; they wouldn't do anything but sit on rubble. And I..."

"Uncle," a call from the silently opened door sounded. "I have your... food... Who are you?"

"No one, Frodo," Bilbo said before Thorin could open his mouth. "Just a dwarf who has lost his way."

Thorin blinked and nodded solemnly, looking down at his boots and waiting for the younger hobbit to leave.

"Lad," Bilbo added, standing up from his armchair and pushing passed Thorin. "Do you think you could get us some tea?"

"Sure, Uncle," Frodo said with a smile before disappearing into the kitchen.

Bilbo turned around and faced the taller being. "Well, I suppose this brings our meeting to an end, doesn't it?" Bilbo said flatly, narrowing his eyes. "Join us for tea then be on your way."

"I have no intention of returning to Erebor," Thorin repeated. "Maybe you didn't clearly hear me."

"Well, you are certainly not staying here," the hobbit retorted. "There is a lovely inn in Bree. I'm sure they won't mind having a traveling dwarf there."

Thorin closed his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "I'm sorry!" he abruptly shouted, startling Bilbo.

"What?" the other asked, still shocked that Thorin had shouted. "I don't understand..."

"Of course you don't understand," Thorin growled. "You haven't given me a chance to explain!"

"You came to see me so you can return to Erebor," Bilbo huffed.

Thorin clenched his jaw and refrained from hitting any object in the room out of frustration. "Hobbit, I have returned to the Shire for you," he said. "I am not returning to Erebor. Dain is King under the Mountain. I don't want a crown. I don't want gold and jewels. I don't want to be king. I want you," Thorin confessed with a sigh before falling to his knees. He grasped Bilbo's small hands in his larger ones and looked up into the hobbit's eyes. "I hadn't heard from you in so long, Bilbo. You don't understand the hell I have been through without knowing if you were alive, if you were safe, if you were sick, or if you were happy."

Bilbo looked down in shame.

"I loved you, Bilbo," Thorin choked. "And I still do."

"I hate to interrupt," Frodo began, coming into the room and trying to ignore the dwarf on his knees in front of his uncle. "But the tea is ready."

Bilbo nodded slowly. "Thank you, Frodo," he replied, looking at the young hobbit. "You may go home, lad."

Frodo nodded and left Bag End.

"Tea?" he offered with a light sigh, glancing down at Thorin. "... and you can stay."

"I... I don't have to... if I am to be a burden on you, I can stay at the inn-"

Thorin was cut off with a soft kiss that made him remember their first (and only) kiss in Lake-Town. When Bilbo pulled back, he cupped the dwarf's face and whispered, "You will do no such thing."

"Thank you," Thorin choked, a small tear falling from the corner of his eye. "Tea would be wonderful."

Bilbo smiled for the first time in weeks and pulled the dwarf up. "Come then," he ordered, pulling Thorin to the kitchen and gently pushing him into a seat.

"Your home is as lovely as I remember," Thorin said, glancing around the kitchen. "I hope you show me around while I am here." He smiled and sipped his tea, his blue eyes watching Bilbo stir his own tea. "I would love to see the rest of it."

"Yes, of course," the hobbit replied, glancing up from his cup. "So," he breathed. "You're not going back to Erebor?"

"No," Thorin said deeply. "I plan on never returning."

"So, when you die," Bilbo began, "you won't be buried there?"

Thorin shook his head. "No, I'll be buried in the place I die. But I'd much rather be buried beside my husband."

"Oh," Bilbo said calmly. "Oh, well... That's lovely."

"Bilbo," Thorin said knowingly. "I don't think you understand again."

The hobbit rolled his eyes. "What don't I understand?"

"You have saved my life numerous times and there is no way I could ever repay you for doing such brave things," Thorin answered. "I have regretted my actions before the Battle of Five Armies, and I never want to hurt you like that again. Bilbo, I love you in more ways than you could ever imagine. Please." The dwarf took a deep breath and stood from his chair. He knelt on one knee in front of the hobbit. "Will you marry me, Bilbo Baggins?"

Bilbo stuttered as he was utterly baffled and flustered at the same time. "You're serious?"

"Am I not?" Thorin asked, slightly worried he would be rejected. "I would never joke about something as pure as my love for you."

Bilbo smiled softly and held out his left hand to Thorin. "Of course I will be your husband," he said, watching the proud dwarf slide the ring onto his finger. He leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to Thorin's lips. He smiled against the dwarf's mouth when he felt Thorin's hands settle on his back. "I do return your love, Thorin. I have for a long time."