Disclaimer: The Hobbit, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J. R. R. Tolkien's estate, and Warner Brothers, New Line Cinema, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and WingNut Films.
Part of the Company
Thorin drew in a ragged breath, keeping his forehead pressed firmly against Fili's, tightening his arms around his nephew.
Returning the hug just as hard, the blond-haired dwarf quietly whispered, "I'm here, Uncle."
The reassurance washed away the dwarf king's lingering fear, replacing it with relief and a sense of calm. Nodding, Thorin slowly released Fili, his eyes running over the young dwarf in a final inspecting sweep before stepping back.
"Thorin?"
The dwarf's worried expression instantly transforming into a frown – he disliked being caught in vulnerable, familial moments – he turned sharply to the burglar.
"Thank you for your help in rescuing me," the hobbit's words burst out, nervous and swift, echoing through the cavern.
Thorin blinked, surprised. He barely had time to register Master Baggins's wide, wet eyes, trembling frame, and pale face before he gave a brief bow and was retreating back to the corner he'd claimed for himself, once again facing the wall. Slowly, the dwarf's frown shifted to confusion as he stared at the Halfling's hunched back.
A light cough made him aware of his companions, silent and still, all watching him. Judging by the curious cocked heads of Gloin, Oin, Nori, Balin, and Dwalin; how Dori, Bombur, Bofur, and Bifur looked between him and the hobbit repeatedly; and the increasing fidgetiness of Ori, Kili, and Fili, they were waiting with a sense of expectation. Folding his arms in front of his chest, Thorin felt defensive and uncomfortable; he did not have to explain himself, as he never had up to now regarding his dealings with the burglar.
A soft, half-stifled sniffle caused Thorin's gaze to jump back to the Halfling. He was visibly shaking, whether due to being cold or something else the dwarf could only guess.
Thank you…
The king did not finish nodding before Bofur was halfway across the cave. Without a word he carefully placed his furry hat on Master Baggins's curly head; for a moment he pressed his hands on the smaller creature's shoulders and then backed off. The hobbit half twisted around, and in the dim light Thorin caught a glimpse of the burglar's tear-stained cheeks before the fellow ducked his head in embarrassment and turned away.
An odd, unfamiliar feeling fluttering in his stomach, the king watched in intense silence as Gloin pressed his locket into the Halfling's palm with a few low words, and Fili and Kili quietly situated themselves on either side of Master Baggins, leaning against his shoulders. Setting up his bedroll near the three, Dwalin brought out his fiddle and started playing an old dwarven lullaby.
Uncrossing his arms, Thorin started walking over to the lads when Fili and Kili began briskly rubbing their hands over the hobbit's arms, shoulders, and back.
"Do not want to be a nuisance," Master Baggins protested in a small voice. "There is no need to—"
"We can't have our burglar catching his death of cold now," Fili said in an equally low tone.
In one smooth movement Thorin shrugged off his cloak as he reached the three and then draped it over Bilbo's shoulders. While the outside of the garment was still damp, the inside was dry and warm. His nephews beamed up at him before promptly tucking the cloak snuggly around their burglar. The hobbit, on the other hand, gazed up at him with a mixture of astonishment and fear. Willing his expression to relax, the dwarf met Bilbo's eyes for a second, gave him a little nod, and then went to settle down for the night.
It was not until he looked around at his company as he burrowed into his bedroll – catching Balin's approving wink and Bofur's thankful smile, noting Bilbo cocooned by Dori, Nori, and Ori – that Thorin's lips tilted upward in a slight smile.
THE END