Summary: Had Bilbo known all he had to do to get Thorin Oakenshield to stop being a condescending asshole was fall down an embankment and nearly die, he would have considered doing it much sooner.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit, I am merely a fan, all the credit should be directed at the wonderful J.R.R Tolkien.

Author Notes: I am a wee bit rusty, so please excuse any grammar mistakes or spelling errors, I am in fact just a human.

Of Insufferable Dwarfs

Bilbo Baggins of Bag End was miserable. The curly haired hobbit pulled his sopping cloak tighter around himself and he mentally cursed the dwarven company he could hear laughing boisterously in the distance. "Heh, heh, heh," he mocked them in a high pitched voice, muttering under his breath about arrogant dwarfs before closing his eyes tightly and attempted to imagine the rolling hills of the shire, the green door of his comfortable hobbit-hole, and the brass doorknob he fondly shined every day.

The chilly rain continued its downpour, soaking Bilbo to the core and causing an acrid ache to settle in his bones. He was so angry he could feel a heavy weight settling in his heart, making it hard to breathe. It was all Bilbo could do to prevent angry tears from forcing themselves out of his tear ducts and down his cheeks to combine with the cold rain already soaking him.

Perhaps he would sit here on this outcropping until he froze to death or drowned from all the damned rain to show those stupid dwarfs that hobbit or not, he was not to be trifled with and he could be just as stubborn as any of them!

He sighed long and hard, casting off the shiver that rippled through his body.

Everything had been going perfectly fine, the company was making their way through a part of a dense forest, hoping to find some good cover from the impending storm that had been threatening above. The temperature had dropped quickly along with everyone's mood. Bellies were growling and temperaments had become short and snappy, rendering any kind of understanding moot.

High and mighty Thorin had pushed the company beyond their limits and they had followed with minimal complaining until Bilbo had bravely asked for reprieve. The dwarf king had cast him a look of absolute impatience, making a snide comment about faint hobbits and their veiled ability at hindering their party and slowing everyone down.

Bilbo had taken the insults in stride having had a while to get used to them in their journey thus far. He knew that Thorin would not be giving him an inch; he would have to earn every single step the insufferable dwarf awarded him. But alas, he could not shake off the sting that pinged through his small body at the larger dwarf's biting words.

The king had pushed just a little further until they had found enough coverage to mostly protect them from the elements and give them enough space to start a fire without fear of burning down the forest. Thorin had announced that they would be stopping for the evening, and Bilbo had all but sagged from relief, he was pleased to find that most of the dwarfs looked a bit relieved themselves.

Trying to be helpful, Bilbo had helped collect firewood to cook their small meal and to keep them warm for the night before the rain soaked everything and wouldn't take to light. After having prepared the meal, and sitting down to eat with the company, the dwarfs had begun picking on him in earnest, apparently having not shaken off their own sour moods and taking the lead from their king who had torn him down not long before.

Bilbo had taken a deep breath and tried once again to not show weakness on his face as the dwarfs teased him about the clothing he wore, lack of beard, lack of fighting skills, and lack of muscle. During the good natured ribbing Bilbo had caught Bofur's apologetic eyes through the flames they were surrounding. Bilbo dared not look in Thorin's direction, knowing that harsh judgment that would be mirrored back at him.

It had begun to rain then, and Bilbo politely excused himself with his pipe and wandered off in search of somewhere private where he could curse the dwarfs in silence. He stopped for a moment to grab his cloak before finding his current spot near an outcropping that overlooked the dense forest that lay ahead of them. He sighed dejectedly, sliding down the trunk of his selected tree.

"Come back to the fire burglar," a deep voice sounded from somewhere.

Bilbo nearly jumped from his skin, cursing as he quickly stood up and moved more directly into the pouring rain and out from the little bit of cover the tree had been giving him. "I am fine just where I am, I need a little time to clear my head."

Thorin moved directly into his line of vision and into the rain himself. He didn't look amused as he regarded the hobbit before him as if he was particularly slow. "It is not safe out here burglar, around the fire you will be protected and warm. Enough with this tantrum, you are not a child."

Bilbo could feel his cheeks burning with embarrassment and anger. "I am perfectly capable of protecting myself," he sneered, walking a bit closer to the outcropping, feeling both humiliated at being treated like a nuisance and an insolent child.

"They were teasing you hobbit, they meant no offence," Thorin growled at him, grabbing his soaking cloak by the sleeve and yanking him non-too gently towards their camp.

The hobbit yanked back, pleased to see Thorin's shock at being disobeyed plainly on his usually stoic face. "Do not make me drag you back burglar, I have half a mind to take you over my knee with a switch."

Bilbo saw victory on Thorin's face as his own mouth dropped open at the threat. He clamped his mouth closed quickly and took scathing breaths, his anger lighting anew. With more strength than he knew he possessed, he shoved the king backwards screaming, "You are just a big bully Thorin Oakenshield!"

"You are unkind and for some reason you despise me! You tell me all of the time how worthless I am because I am not a dwarf and how I could never measure up and be useful because of it. I am a hobbit alright? A blood y hobbit and I am proud of it."

He could feel the hot tears burning a trail down his cheeks as he shoved at the king again and again, unconsciously annoyed that this time Thorin barely moved when he pushed at him. "I did not have to be here! With your entire high and mighty visage, you would do well to remember that I could have stayed in my comfy hobbit hole and forgotten all about you. I chose to venture out into a world I have only known from books and stories passed down. You are not the only who has sacrificed!"

During his angry tirade, Bilbo had not realized that through the path he had walked all had gone suspiciously quite around the fire, only the pitter patter of raindrops connecting with something solid reverberated through the night air.

"I tried to ignore the things you speak so venomously to me, justify them away because you are lost and are trying to reclaim the place you once called home. You call me ignorant, but it is you who is ignorant! What do you know of me, of my own life? You know nothing! You judge too quickly and hide like a coward behind a crown you no longer have…"

Bilbo was not expecting the hand that flew at his face, connecting with jarring force against his cheek, knocking him backwards onto his backside. His hand flew to his cheek and he stared through his rain plastered bangs at the dwarf who was looking at his own hand in disgust.

"Bilbo…" the king mumbled, reaching for the hobbit, apology and shame written on his usually impassive face. "I am sorry…"

Bilbo jerked away from the king, sliding in the mud a bit as he fought to get to his feet. "Don't touch me!" he shouted angrily. He was so angry his brain could not even register that Thorin had spoken his name to him.

Thorin's hands jerked up and into the air in a placating manner. "I did not mean that hobbit, I was angry… I should not have hit you." Thorin then gestured to the edge of the outcropping that Bilbo was now standing dangerously close to the edge of. "Come away from the ledge Burglar, before it gives way."

Bilbo snapped his head to the side at the admission, realizing that indeed he was standing terrifyingly close to the edge. He was about to step towards Thorin's outstretched arms when he felt the muddy earth beneath his feet disappear.

The hobbit yelped as his body hit the side of the crumbling cliff hard and gravity pulled him with incredible speed and force down and away from the safety of the outcropping he had just been standing upon. A strong hand clamped to the back of his sopping cloak and tried pulling him upwards.

"Hang on!" Thorin shouted above him, and Bilbo could barely see his features through the darkness that had spread through middle earth in such a short time.

Distantly Bilbo could hear shouting and the sound of stampeding feet through the bombardment of rain that had suddenly become cacophonous in his ears. He scrambled to find purchase, realizing in horror that he was dangling helplessly from an incredible height. His heart sunk as he felt the sodden material slip through Thorin Oakenshield's fingers.

Then, Bilbo was free falling. His body contorted in a way that allowed him to look up and see the horror in Thorin's eyes as the king shouted at him, right before they lost sight of each other and Bilbo fell with the rain. It felt like an eternity, but finally his small body slammed into the earth and he began to roll.

He could feel consciousness fleeing him, dark spots entering his vision as his body flopped and rolled like a rag doll down the embankment, hitting every rock and broken tree branch in his path. During his last few moments of consciousness he had the decency to feel a fool, knowing that he had just proved Thorin Oakenshield right, he was a hobbit, and he wasn't meant for this journey.

Things were hazy when Bilbo came back to awareness. Through the tiny sliver that he had managed through his eyelids, he could see shadows dancing about and his head screamed at him as if it was going to take flight and leave the rest of his body behind.

Soon his eyes were too heavy to remain open so he allowed them to sit heavily upon his cheeks as he rested for the moment. He knew he couldn't be dead because death could not possibly be this painful, his ancestors would have had at least a modicum of mercy for him, despite his stupidity in leaving his safe little home in the shire and go on a suicidal mission with a bunch of thankless dwarfs.

What is that smell? He wondered as he managed to weakly wrinkle his nose in distaste, he tried to lift his arms and roll away but was mystified to find that something strong had a hold of him. In his confusion, panic flooded his senses and he tried to voice this but all that came out was a weak whimper. Somewhere above him he was softly hushed, a warm hand covering his forehead and then he could faintly make out whispers surrounding him.

His stomach turned as he was slowly lifted into what he could only think was a semi-sitting position and he felt someone divesting him of his clothing, he shivered; only now realizing that he was freezing. That was odd, seeing as he was supposed to be in front of the fire surrounded by insufferable dwarfs without manners teasing him mercilessly… wasn't he? He grunted, not being able to make sense of what was happening.

Don't take my clothes, they are all I have. Bilbo whimpered in pain when he felt strong calloused hands run down his naked torso, pushing cautiously against bruised ribs. He felt someone slide behind him, and the hands that were holding him upright slowly leaned him backwards until his back met a naked, hairy chest.

The hobbit rolled his head a bit, panic now becoming overwhelming and he began to fight against his captors, trying to get away, to get free. If he could call out, maybe someone would hear him, maybe brave Dwalin would come to his rescue and slay whoever these creatures were that were tormenting him so.

A keening sound left his throat and although his head seemed to pound harshly to the beat of his heart and made his dark world swirl, he managed to lift an arm and swung his elbow backwards, catching the person behind him in what he hoped was the side of their ribcage.

Relief course through him as he heard an 'oomph' and whomever it was, was falling backwards. He was embarrassed to dimly realize that he didn't have the strength to roll away and fell with the chest until they both were laying flat on their backs.

Still, Bilbo Baggins tried to roll away, praying silently that when he opened his eyes the world would not be spinning and that he would be able to crawl away to safety. To his disappointment, strong arms came around him and held him firmly to the warm chest once more. He fought with all his might to try and dislodge them to no avail.

"Damnit Thorin, get a better hold on him or he'll hurt 'imself worse."

Bilbo heard a grunt from behind and he tried to place the familiar voice…

"I am trying Balin; he is confused."

"Stop squirming about Bilbo, let me have a look…"

Was that Oin?

Suddenly with a rush of relief, a fierce tiredness spread through him and he became bonelessly limp.

"Oin?" a deep and concerned voice asked.

With that, Bilbo drifted away, dreaming about seed cake and mince pie…

When Bilbo came to again he knew instantly that he was on fire. He was ensconced in it and his nerve endings burned. His thoughts swirled and his heart leaped up into his throat, the strong arms were still wrapped about him and he frantically tried to remove them. As they tightened protectively around him sleepily, he cried out loudly managing to drunkenly open his eyes and roll them around blearily seeing forms jolt and spring into action around him.

He needed the fire gone from his body, he needed the heavy weight piled atop him to desist immediately.

"Calm down Bilbo, it is only us," the soft voice behind him spoke.

The arms tightened slightly as Bilbo confusedly continued his barrage on them to release him, his head drunkenly dropping forward. Another arm came around him and carefully pushed his head back until it was once again resting on the soft surface behind him.

"Unhand me," he muttered quietly. "I hap…pen… to kn… ow a terrifying dwarf king th..th..that would hap… happily behead you. I am a bur… burg… burglar. You m… m..mmusn't delay me a..any further."

Bilbo could feel the chest behind him rumbling and could hear soft chuckles from all around him. He could not quell the irritation the welled within him. The nerve! Yes, he was small, and yes, he was a hobbit but when Thorin Oakenshield got a hold of these buffoons they would have to answer to him. Or at least he hoped Thorin would and not thank these creatures for taking him off of their hands.

That thought had made him sad and he spastically lifted his hand from where it was trapped beneath the fiery weight on top of him to his head. He became even more confused when he found a bandage on his temple. Were they trying to remove his brain?! The annoying hand was back, gently guiding his hand back to his lap where it sat rather limp and uselessly with the other.

"Terrifying dwarf king, huh?" The voice whispered in his ear. "Rest Bilbo, things will not be so confusing in the morn. Your injuries need time to heal."

"It's hot," Bilbo sighed dejectedly, realizing that escaping was futile in his current state. He relaxed back into the warmth. "No one is coming for me."

Whatever was covering him was pulled down and allowed a relieving breeze to contact his heated skin. The arm tightened again, "We have already come for you. You are not alone Bilbo Baggins."

But alas, Bilbo Baggins was already softly snoring once more.

It was morning the third time Bilbo Baggins awoke, and things were much clearer.

He noticed firstly that he was lying on his back, but he knew that he couldn't be resting on his bed mat. It wasn't nearly so soft, nor was it also so warm, or hairy for that matter.

"Bilbo?" A voice whispered quietly to his left.

He turned his head towards the voice quickly, instantly regretting it as his head spun angrily and forced him to slam his eyes closed.

"Careful now, you have had quite an ordeal my dear hobbit."

"Gandalf?"

The grey wizard smiled kindly at him and nodded. "You gave us quite a scare my dear boy."

"What happened?" Bilbo softly asked, noticing now that he was ensconced in a sea of furs, keeping him nice and toasty. Bilbo tried to think backwards but his memories were too hazy and confused to give him any clear indication of what had transpired.

Gandalf's eyes trailed around him, so Bilbo did that same, noticing his dwarf friends all snuggled together nearby. He was stunned to notice that they weren't covered in their fine furs, his eyes swung back to the mound he was laying beneath.

"Oh my…"

"You fell Bilbo," Gandalf murmured softly, being careful to not wake the others. "From what Thorin was willing to share, he struck you during an argument and you strayed too closely to the edge of an unstable outcropping that gave out from the storm."

"Ouch," Bilbo mumbled now noticing his aches and pains. Something beneath him moved and Bilbo jumped in fright, turning his head, now realizing that Thorin Oakenshield had been his bed. Heat flooded his cheeks as he realized that he was naked except for his loincloth that usually went beneath his garments and Thorin was also in nothing but his own loincloth. "Oh my."

Bilbo watched as Thorin blearily blinked himself awake, eyes opening wide when he saw the hobbit staring unblinkingly at him. Slowly, the dwarf king sat them both up being cautious of Bilbo's ribs. "Bilbo, are you back with us?"

The hobbit furrowed his brow in confusion. "What on earth are you talking about? Where did I go?"

The dwarf king and wizard both chuckled in relief, and Bilbo just knew that his cheeks were the color of tomatoes. He didn't appreciate their ability to make him feel stupid from such an innocent question. He made a move to shift away from the king, shocked when the dwarf tightened his hold on the hobbit, rubbing an arm down Bilbo's arm in a placating manner. His expression had suddenly turned to one of incredible seriousness.

"Bilbo, I must apologize, my actions last night were abominable," Bilbo could read regret on Thorn's face. With those few words last night came rushing back to him and he remembered everything.

"You struck me!" Bilbo growled at him in an accusatory and hurt-filled voice. The hobbit watched closely as Thorin's expression crumbled further, and his resolve to be angry and walk back to the shire fled him. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to formulate words.

His anger was still tangible, but he knew to hold onto the resentment would only make things worse. During their journey thus far, Thorin had been so unyielding, so cruel, and last night he had even gone as far as to commit bodily harm. But from what he could see now, the dwarf was truly sorry, something that seemed uncharacteristic of the dwarf.

When he emerged from his thoughts he noticed Thorin staring intently at him, trying to keep the concern from his face as he regarded the hobbit. "I did strike you Bilbo," he spoke ashamed, losing eye contact with Bilbo as he said it. "If I had not, you wouldn't have moved so closely to the edge…" Thorin's breath caught, "You would not have fallen, and you would not have been injured, lying amongst the forest floor broken…"

"If I hadn't been acting like a child, if I had pushed past my anger and come back with you to the safety of the fire, if I had not been cruel during our argument, you would have never struck me. I am sorry too Thorin Oakenshield."

Thorin's eyes snapped back up to his, shock showing plainly from the unusually expressive eyes. "I thought I had killed you."

Bilbo laughed softly, shaking his head very slowly to prevent another head rush. "Perhaps hobbits are stronger than you originally thought."

A sliver of a smile appeared on Thorin's face. "Perhaps you are right."

"Bilbo!" Kili's excited voice sounded from the dwarf pile lying near to Thorin and himself.

Bilbo winced slightly as the tempo in his head kicked up a notch. Thorin caught the wince and glared at his nephew, shutting the young dwarf up immediately.

The loud exclamation had awoken all of the company up immediately, and Bilbo felt the heat rising to his cheeks once more as several sets of concerned eyes landed upon him.

Oin kneeled before him, uncovering the furs and smiling. "How does your head feel?"

"It hurts, but not too terribly," Bilbo answered honestly. He looked vulnerably up at Thorin as the dwarf extracted himself, assigning his nephews and Dwalin to help him find some dry wood to keep the morning fire going and then to hunt for breakfast.

The dwarfs dutifully followed their king, apologizing to Bilbo for the part they played in last night's events. Bilbo nodded and thanked them, shivering as the chill morning air bit into his skin. Gandalf wrapped one of the furs around his shoulders as Oin began re-inspecting his chest under the watchful eye of the wizard.

"Your ribs are bruised, but not broken. Your wrist is sprained, but shouldn't impede your movement too much," Oin announced loudly and Bilbo couldn't tell if it was because he was hard of hearing or if he was trying to reassure the rest of the company that their hobbit would survive. "You are lucky you survived Bilbo."

Bilbo crinkled his brow and regarded the healer thoughtfully. "How did you find me?"

Balin kneeled next to the hobbit, his large hand resting against Bilbo's back for extra stability. "We heard you and Thorin arguing last night…"

Bilbo flushed.

"It wasn't until the laddie shouted for you to hold on that we made haste. We arrived just in time to watch you slip right out of your cloak and down the mountain." Balin sighed, rubbing a calloused hand across his face. "Thorin tried jumping down after you," he paused. "If Dwalin hadn't grabbed the idiot he would have gone tumbling head first after you."

Bilbo's eyes opened wide in shock at Thorin's actions, an unknown warm feeling settling in his stomach.

"Dwalin quickly talked some sense into him and we tied some rope around a tree and Thorin wouldn't let anyone but himself climb down after you. It took some time, but when he reached the bottom he began looking for you and found you unconscious and bleeding at the edge of another outcropping. Luckily a small boulder prevented you from rolling any further; else you wouldn't have made it."

Bilbo swallowed and his eyes strayed to where Thorin had disappeared through the foliage a few moments before.

Balin smiled knowingly at him. "He carried you up the ravine and back to the campsite. You were a right mess, Kili and Fili thought you were dead, the rest of us sat back and watched as Thorin and Oin tended to your wounds. He wouldn't let any of us near you." Balin grunted and rolled his eyes. "You came to a couple of time throughout the night, and you were as confused as a baby lamb…"

Bilbo glared, making Balin chuckle.

"But you made it. You gave us a frightful scare, but you made it."

Bilbo looked down at his hands that were still nestled in his lap, a hand on his chin forcing him to look up again. Balin was smiling sadly at him this time, "We are sorry for what we said Bilbo, dreadfully sorry. We forget sometimes that other races are not as thick skinned as us."

The hobbit was about to protest when Balin shook his head at him. "We are different Bilbo, but that doesn't make you any less of our friend, it doesn't make you lesser in our eyes. What we said was out of jest, and we can see now how that was cruel. I hope that you will forgive us and remain on our journey to reclaiming Erebor."

Tears welled in Bilbo's eyes and all he could do was nod, glancing around him and noticing the other dwarfs surrounding him and nodding encouragingly at him. Perhaps they loved and accepted him after all, even though he didn't have a beard and couldn't grow one to save his life.

Balin's voice dropped so that only Bilbo could hear him. "Thorin is sorry too, Bilbo. I haven't seen him so distraught since his grandfather…"

Bilbo was staring wide eyed at him now.

"He is not good with words, his first instinct is to get angry and fight. To deprecate when he is scared of losing something, just be patient, he will come around."

Bilbo nodded dumbly, all their attentions turning when their bare chested king walked back into the camp, a bunny in each hand while Fili and Kili were holding several Robin eggs in their hands. Thorin met Bilbo's eyes and nodded respectfully.

Gandalf looked around at the group of brave dwarfs and one very brave hobbit, smiling happily. "We are leaving today then?"

Thorin glared at the wizard shaking his head, "Tomorrow, and not until we are sure our burglar won't keel over."

Bilbo shook his head, unwilling to slow down the company. "I am feeling fine, we can move…"

"Tomorrow," Thorin growled and leveled him with a look that was filled with an emotion Bilbo couldn't put his finger on.

The hobbit clamped his mouth shut and nodded. "Tomorrow works."

Gandalf smiled amusedly and leaned towards Bilbo as Thorin began ordering around his company. "Perhaps next time you should spend a little more time looking a bit deeper Bilbo, save yourself the injuries." Gandalf winked at him as Thorin barked at him to let their burglar get some rest.

The wizard walked off smiling, shaking his head about bull headed dwarfs and kind hearted hobbits.

Fatigue won over and Bilbo leaned back on Thorin's bed roll contemplating what Gandalf had just said, snuggling under the furs his friends had kindly sacrificed for his comfort. As he drifted off to sleep he felt fingers lightly drift over his forehead, an unspoken promise being made by a king to a hobbit.

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it, enjoy the rest of your day. :D Toodles!