Thorin was stumped. He was trying to figure out what the best gift for a hobbit was. Especially when he wanted to court said hobbit. Under normal circumstances, he'd brood in a corner and get absolutely nowhere, something he'd been doing for the past fortnight.

But now he was desperate. With his recovery well on the way and Fíli and Kíli having regained most of their range of movement, his burglar was starting to make noise about going home, about leaving him—and the others.

It came to a head when his nephews came to check on him in his armchair in his corner of dark brooding broodiness.

"Uncle," Fíli started.

"Master Bilbo is going to leave the Lonely Mountain!" Kíli finished.

"So I've heard," Thorin grumbled.

"But you can't let him go!" Fíli cried.

Thorin raided his head slowly to eye the younger dwarrows. "How would I stop him? How can I make him stay?"

That pulled Fíli up short. He bit his lip and turned to his brother. Kíli matched the expression and then took a deep breath. "Hobbits are more attached to nature, more like elves, I guess." He flinched under Thorin's icy regard. "The point is that he likes nature, flowers, green and growing things."

"Well, that's fair useless," Thorin growled. They were underground with nothing but a little scrub on the sides of the Lonely Mountain above them.

Kíli quavered, hurt. "I'm just trying to help. I don't want Bilbo to leave either!"

Thorin looked away, feeling guilty. His eyes lit on a table near the fire. It was carved stone with an intricate mosaic of semiprecious stone. Some of the geometric designs could pass as flowers. An idea began to form in his head. He stood abruptly. "Kíli, find Balin and ask him if the emerald vein in the seventeenth mine dried up before we left. Fíli, go down to the treasure room and collect any gems the size of my fist or smaller.

Fíli frowned. "That could take a while, Uncle."

"Just get three or four of each color, then," he snapped out. He went to the other room where his bed lay and dropped to his knees beside it. From underneath, he drew an old, worn sack with bits of gold sticking out through holes in the fabric. "I'll be in the forge."

…

For three days, No one heard a word from Thorin, save orders to bring him this gem or that, or bring more gold, always more gold. The bags of coins they gave him from the treasure room were returned in large, misshapen chunks that were far lighter than they had been. If they had to guess, the dwarrows thought he was pulling gold wire but his ferocious anger at anyone who approached the corner of the forge he was using for any reason but giving him more materials put all but the hardiest dwarrow (Dwalin) off his feed.

…

Meanwhile, Bilbo continued to make noises about leaving. Fíli and Kíli did everything they could to keep him from his plans but every time Bilbo looked at them in disappointment, they had to stop and apologize and often end up helping him finish his task. Bilbo figured that at this rate, he would be able to leave in less than a week.

In truth, Bilbo didn't know what he wanted. He surely missed his home and he knew he'd miss the dwarrows when he left them but he also knew that if he was wanted, Thorin would say something. After all, he hadn't been subtle. He'd made very loud plans and Fíli and Kíli both had attempted to dissuade him from leaving multiple times. But they weren't who he wanted to tell him what to do.

Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain, was the only one who could ask (tell) him to stay and he would do it.

Instead, the dwarrow had completely withdrawn. Everyone in the company said he was in the forges and had been for three days. He wondered if this was a sign. Did Thorin hate him so much that he didn't even want to say goodbye? That he would just stay there and not emerge until Bilbo was long gone?

Bilbo scrubbed at his face and turned his attention back to the princes who were continuing to eye him worriedly. "Come on," he said. "Let's get something from the kitchens."

The boys offered only sort of happy smiles and led him down to Bombur's hallowed kitchen domain.

Halfway there, they passed an exhausted, scruffy Thorin, clutching several objects bound in cloth. Bilbo's traitorous heart thumped overloud at the sight of the king, who stopped before them.

"Your majesty," Bilbo said, trying to sound light.

Thorin looked down at him. "Master Burglar."

Bilbo twitched. "I thought we'd forgone titles."

"You started it."

Kíli and Fíli exchanged tiny, hopeful grins. Bilbo always dredged the youth from Thorin's stern exterior.

"Yes," Bilbo said, "but you're a king. I'm not a master of anything, let alone burgling."

They'd had this conversation before and it continued to go nowhere and Thorin did not have time for this. "Bilbo, I would appreciate a few moments of your time after supper, this eve, if you are amenable."

The polite speech set Bilbo's hackles up. What was going on now? he wondered. "Of course. Will you be at supper, then?"

"Yes," Thorin murmured, surprised.

"Uncle, you've not left the forges in three days," Fíli reminded him.

Thorin's perpetual frown deepened. "Has it been so long?" He turned away and walked quickly from the hall.

Bilbo rounded on the brothers. "What was that?"

Fíli and Kíli looked at each other and then back at Bilbo with matching grins. "No idea," they said in unison.

"Mmhmm," Bilbo said shortly.

…

Supper was a boisterous affair. With Thorin's return, every dwarrow who needed to speak to him swarmed the head table. Bilbo, who'd refused a place there, preferring to eat at a smaller table, often with other members of the company who were happy to be ignored by the growing dwarrow populace.

Tonight, Kíli joined them, while Fíli sat beside his uncle. This was a rare occurrence, but Bilbo figured it meant that they were trying to get as much information as possible between the two of them. Bilbo wasn't sure what was going on this evening but he didn't think it was necessarily good.

Still, he slipped away before the night's entertainment could begin and retreated to his room to prepare for whatever words Thorin intended to have with him.

…

When he opened the door to his chambers in the rather opulent guest corridor, he found the stone table he'd dragged over to a chair nearer the hearth had been dragged back to the center of the room. On it rested a golden vase with silver vines worked around it.

Inside the vase were nine flowers. Bilbo stepped forward and touched the first one. It was comprised of pink rose quartz petals around a citrine center that was braced on a long shard of emerald. Every part had been polished to a high gloss bound together in the thinnest of gold wire and looked like it would shatter if he dropped it. The next flower was similar, though with citrine petals and an amber colored stone at its center that Bilbo didn't recognize. The third and fourth both used rubies; one to shape a rose, the other a poppy with a garnet in the middle. The fifth was a blue bud of topaz with green topaz leaves and the sixth and seventh were varying shades of purple, one shaped like a violet and the other like a crocus, complete with golden pollen sprigs.

The last two though, were what stopped his hands cold. One was a lily with dark red sprigs and the other was a hydrangea flowerhead. They both shown with the silvery white glow of mithril silver.

"Do you like them?"

Bilbo yanked his hand back in surprise and spun to see Thorin looming in the still open doorway.

"I…Thorin, these are…I can't," he trailed off.

"I want you to stay," Thorin said bluntly. "If you're set on going, then consider them a parting gift but—" he took a deep breath. "I want you to be here, with me."

There was a very long silence while Bilbo tried to process that. At last, he choked out, "Flowers are used in courting for hobbits," Bilbo said. It was all he could think of.

"As gemstone and metalwork are for dwarrows," Thorin replied, his voice husky.

Bilbo gulped audibly, his heart in his throat. "Well then, I shall have to stay." He cleared his throat. "It would be quite rude, after all, to run off after receiving such a wondrous courting gift." And it was wondrous indeed. He hadn't thought Thorin even knew what flowers were, let alone recreate them from his gems and his gold and his precious mithril. He swallowed one more time and took a deep breath. "Would it be entirely too forward of me to ask for another gift?"

Thorin didn't even raise an eyebrow. "Name it," he murmured.

"Kiss me." The words were little more than a whisper.

Thorin was on him in a second. Roughened hands wrapped carefully around Bilbo's waist and lifted, bringing Bilbo up to meet his lips. Bilbo wrapped his arms around Thorin's neck, tangling his fingers in Thorin's dark mane.

Bilbo let the king dominate the kiss, let his tongue explore and tickle the roof of his mouth before he pulled back to nip at Thorin's lower lip. He blushed hotly at the dwarrow's sharp intake of breath and started to look away, only to have his lips captured once more. This kiss had more fire. Bilbo was less pliant and the kiss grew fierce.

When they finally parted for air again, they heard the softest shuffle of boots on light feet as whomever was spying on them fled.

Bilbo sighed. "Everyone will know about this before the next hour sounds."

"Is that a problem?" Thorin asked, gently setting the hobbit down.

"No," Bilbo replied. He reached back and withdrew the mithril lily. He could almost smell the plant, it seemed so real. "Are you certain about this?"

"I am," Thorin replied solemnly. "Are you?"

Bilbo gently set aside the lily and pulled Thorin down by his furs. "Yes," he said against Thorin's dark lips. Then they kissed again and didn't stop for quite a long while.

…

"So you're staying now, right?" Fíli and Kíli were sitting on either side of Bilbo in the kitchens, eating second breakfast.

"I am."

Both young princes grinned and leapt on him in a heavy embrace. Bilbo wondered if was going to suffocate before he and Thorin could go beyond kissing and falling asleep in each others' arms as they had the night before when the dwarrow in question yanked his nephews off of him and shoved them in the direction of the great double doors. Then he took Kíli's vacated seat and started eating off of both his and Fíli's plates.

Bilbo glanced toward the princes, but they were already fleeing, so he shrugged and tucked back in.

A booted foot lightly nudged his bare one. Bilbo looked up and grinned.

Thorin smiled back.