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.
Author's Note: Minifill for a prompt on the hobbit-kink meme.
Fragile Hands, Warm Smiles
Oin merely nodded at Dwalin who bolted upright in his chair at the healer's entrance. His friend's stern expression grew even fiercer, unconsciously leaning protectively toward the still hobbit in the bed. His dark eyes intensely tracked Oin's every movement.
The grey-haired dwarf didn't comment on how Dwalin did not release his hold on the small, pale hand that his larger one swallowed, focusing instead on their burglar. As he worked, at times a low growl rumbled in the warrior's chest. Oin quirked an eyebrow, his eyes remaining on the hobbit. One would almost think he was the enemy based on Dwalin's reactions!
He knew not what had passed between the two in the elven king's dungeons, other than that a few times Dwalin had insisted on Bilbo getting sleep; and the lad had, right outside the dwarf's cell so as to make it easy to be warned of approaching guards. Whatever had happened, there was a change in how the bald dwarf viewed their burglar.
(Dwalin managed to watch out for the Halfling during chaos of the company's escape, helping him not to go under the water. Then his full-fledged panic when Bilbo collapsed without warning after their arrival in Lake-town. And now his refusal to leave the little one's bedside, staying on watch, viewing all who appeared with a momentarily distrust.)
The healer calmly finished his task and quietly informed Dwalin there was no change in the hobbit. They could only wait for him to wake. The tattooed dwarf gave no reply. His eyes were fastened on the creature that appeared so fragile in his bed. He did not move until the door shut behind Oin. Letting out a long exhale, he rubbed his hand over his face.
He had known it was not wise to get attached on such a dangerous quest. Was why he had only stayed close to Thorin, Kili, Fili, and Balin. Had kept the hobbit at arm's length. Until he had suddenly been gifted with one of the fellow's real smiles in the dungeons. Bilbo's smile had been clear, bright, and so warm. Dwalin had clung to it like a lifeline; amongst the darkness of his cell, and overwhelming worry for the unaccounted Thorin, it helped the dwarf to not give in to despair as the weeks passed. To believe there was hope.
And now he desperately longed to see that warm smile once more.
Please, wake up, Bilbo, he silently requested, gently pressing his hand.
THE END