A/N: To be perfectly honest, I'm not entirely sure where this came from, but it is (very!) loosely based on Emma, by Jane Austen. I really hope you'll enjoy this - it's written out of a need for more Thilbo in my life! There will be lots (I mean lots) of fluff and pining Thorin in this fic. :D

A Perfect Match

Bilbo Baggins, handsome, scholarly and now very rich, had lived the first fifty years of his life in an entirely respectable manner. He had, however, spent his fifty-first birthday riding down a river clutching at a barrel and was now living in a mountain with thirteen dwarves, of all things. All remnants of respectability were now gone, and he was perfectly happy, thank you very much.

While Bilbo had perhaps lost the respect of his neighbours at home in the Shire, he had however retained his hobbit spirit. If there is anything hobbits enjoy more than good food, it is good company and gossip. Give a hobbit a snippet of news and no doubt it'll be known in the next town over by evening. Interfering in neighbours' business is also common-place for Shire-folk (Bilbo could attest to this, his distant cousin Lobelia being famed for her nosiness throughout the entire West Farthing).

Bilbo was just the same; he was completely unaware, however, of the consequences that would follow his curious hobbit nature...

It began with a frown. Thorin's frown. Not that this was in itself a rare occurrence (now he had taken up the mantle of kingship, often Thorin would send the wall death glares as if it had personally been responsible for the fall of Erebor) but it was afterwards that was the problem.

Normally Bilbo could shake Thorin out of whatever mood had taken him; a touch on the forearm and saying his name would make the dark clouds dissipate from Thorin's eyes and they would once more return to their bright, crystal blue, and he'd smile at the hobbit, a quick curve of his lips before returning to the matter at hand.

But this time there was nothing. Bilbo reached out to touch his arm, as he had done many times before, and Thorin shrugged him off brusquely, abruptly; Bilbo felt the sting of rejection before his hobbit pride reared his head and he left, leaving the dwarf to sulk. Bilbo didn't know why Thorin had rejected him, and he was more than a little hurt and confused, but Thorin had sulked many times along their quest and Bilbo was used to it by now.

He set off down the dark halls of Erebor, seeking out Bofur, who would be sure to make him laugh somehow. The weight of the mountain pressed down on Bilbo, and he thought wistfully about going outside and sitting in the sunshine, smoking a pipe, but he knew he'd get lost if he tried to find an exit. Perhaps Bofur could take him, when he got there.

But when he arrived at the Family Ur's chambers, it was quiet within and when Bilbo pushed open the door, Bofur and Bifur was sitting on the bed next to Bombur, who was red-faced and his eyes were puffy. Bofur stood up and joined Bilbo, leading him outside and leaving his cousin to look after Bombur.

'What's wrong?' Bilbo asked, shaken slightly. Bombur was always a jolly soul and Bilbo wondered what could have made him so upset.

Bofur sighed. 'It's his family. He misses them something awful now, you see, his wife and all their littl'uns. He hasn't seen them in over a year an' it's taking its toll on him, see,' Bofur explained. Bilbo could understand – he remembered when he'd been younger: his father had had to travel to Michel Delving and Bilbo hadn't seen him for two weeks. It had been horrible to the young Bilbo, and his mother had been quieter than usual until Bungo Baggins had once again stepped through the door of Bag End.

Bofur did accompany him to a large terrace opening out onto the mountain side, and Bilbo revelled in the feel of the sun gently warming his face after so long spent in chill shadows, of the soft brush of the warm wind on his cheeks and in his hair after feeling only draughty fingers of air sending shivers down his back. In the pleasant sensations he almost forgot about Bombur.

He was reminded of it forcefully at dinner that evening. Glóin was miserable and Óin was too busy helping his brother to food and making sure he ate it all to pay much mind to the conversation going on around them, and his raucous songs were missed by the Company. Seeing Glóin looking paler than usual and his plate half as full as normal worried Bilbo, and at Bofur's pointed glance at him he knew it was because of Glóin's family. Bilbo had heard much about his wife and Gimli during the quest, Glóin taking full advantage of having a company member who had not already been told absolutely everything about his fine son and beautiful wife.

Over the next couple of days Bilbo saw more of the dwarves like this – Ori grew quieter, Balin smiled a little less (although he always had one for Bilbo, at least) and even Fíli's and Kíli's tricks became tamer and less often, their playful natures dulled slightly. They would still tease Bilbo but never with as much enthusiasm, their play-fighting and training even less so. Thorin just grew moodier with every passing day, and Bilbo didn't know how much more he could endure of this.

Erebor was quiet already, only the fourteen of them clearing the higher levels which had been left undamaged by the dragon and a cohort of workers from the Iron Hills, who were working on fixing up and rebuilding the lower levels. Silence lay heavy on the dusty halls and when Bilbo's companions added their silence to the dark quiet of the stone, Bilbo thought he might go mad. It was just too quiet.

Bilbo knew then what he had to do.

They had just finished dinner one evening and while Bilbo sat back and sighed contentedly at his pleasantly full stomach, the dwarves were sitting quietly and staring at their plates. Thorin stood up to leave after a while and the others got up to follow suit, but Bilbo stayed where he was.

'Balin, could I talk to you for a moment please?' he asked. Balin raised a fluffy white eyebrow but nodded, and moved back to the table. Bilbo could feel Thorin's eyes on him, most likely in the glare he had permanently adopted as of late. Much as Bilbo admired the dwarf and thought him a fine friend, sometimes his moods were a little… well, annoying, to say the least. If Bilbo had been another, less patient hobbit…

Eventually everyone had gone and Thorin's scowl had left, leaving Bilbo's skin prickling. He turned to Balin, who had sat down again and was looking at Bilbo expectantly. Bilbo shuffled uncertainly in his seat. Now it was time, he wasn't so sure about this any more. But Balin was stil the same kindly dwarf he'd been a year ago and Bilbo plucked up his courage and spoke, his words tumbling out of him in a rush in his eagerness.

'I've noticed that you are all a bit – a bit unhappy, and I have an idea to make you feel better. Bofur said it was because of family and I thought maybe – seeing as the rooms up here are all fixed and cleaned – I thought perhaps you could send for them? Send for the families of our Company early, before we send for the rest of your people…' he trailed off, unsure if what he was suggesting was the done thing or if he'd just broken a taboo of some sort.

Balin didn't say anything, so Bilbo carried on, almost muttering now in embarrassment. 'I mean, I know Glóin and Bombur are married with children, who they haven't seen in over a year. And I'm sure Fíli and Kíli miss their mother…'

There was a slight pause, but after a moment Balin nodded thoughtfully.

'Aye, laddie. I think you're right,' he said, and Bilbo felt a small surge of relief wash through him at those words. 'I'll write the letters this evening. We've been wary of sending for them too early, see, for fear o' the children running around while it's still not safe. But I suppose Gimli's not a child so much anymore, and Bombur's wife does a good job managing those dwarflings…' Balin paused for a moment, smiling as he thought of the brood of little dwarves all with their father's red hair, and Gimli, who was so much like Glóin it was like seeing a younger version.

He gave a smile then, a large grin which wiped the years off his face. 'And I'm sure the Lady Dís will kick some sense into Fíli and Kíli. And probably her brother too.'

Bilbo couldn't help but smile at that; he'd heard much about Thorin's sister and she sounded like a formidable person. He didn't want to ever be in her bad books; that much was for certain.

'Thank you, Balin. If I can do anything...?' Bilbo asked, but Balin waved him away.

'It's just a few letters, lad. I'll get someone to take them to Dale and see to finding a messenger to deliver them tomorrow.'

Satisfied with the conversation and now feeling the full effects of all the rich food, Bilbo yawned and walked with Balin to his chamber, where he said goodnight to the older dwarf and headed straight for his large bed, piled high with blankets and furs and pelts to keep him warm. He changed into his night clothes and snuggled deep under the covers, cocooning himself in warmth. As he fell asleep, his heart was lighter as he thought that his friends would, in a few months' time, soon be reunited with their families.

A small part of Bilbo's heart ached for his home, heavy in its yearning for times past when his parents were yet living, but he ignored it and was soon lost in the oblivion of sleep.

The next day at breakfast, as Bilbo settled himself into a chair, Balin shot him a smile and there was a twinkle in his eye that had been missing for a while. Thorin saw, and he narrowed his eyes at Bilbo who ignored him and instead continued tucking his napkin into his shirt and piling his plate with food.

'I wish you to join me in surveying the treasury today, Bilbo,' he said, his voice rumbling deep in his chest and Bilbo looked up in surprise. 'Keep you out of trouble,' Thorin added, shooting an unreadable look at Balin.

'Alright,' Bilbo shrugged and smiled at Thorin, who looked pleased that he'd accepted so readily. Bilbo supposed it must be lonely to be a King - already the others were beginning to treat him more reverently, and Thorin had to remind them multiple times that he was still Thorin to them, not 'Your Majesty'. His nose would wrinkle slightly as he said the words, and it always made Bilbo laugh.

Only Bilbo and Balin (and Fíli and Kíli) remained the same in Thorin's company now as they were before, and for that reason Thorin would seek their company when he could. Bilbo couldn't truly say he minded; while Thorin was grumpy and stubborn he was good company, and Bilbo always felt a thrill of achievement when he managed to make Thorin laugh, filling the room with his deep, bass laughter which reverberated in Bilbo's chest.

Thorin gave him what counted as a smile in return - more of a slight curve of the lips than anything else- and Bilbo began to eat, tucking in with enthusiasm. Really, the dwarven cooks sent with the cohort of workers weren't bad at all, he mused. Perhaps a little heavy handed on the meat and they skimped a bit on vegetables, but it was delicious all the same. Even if he was eating steak for breakfast.

The chatter was quiet that morning, as it had been the past week, and Bilbo couldn't help but smile when he thought of how happy his friends would be when they were finally reunited with their families, and he was so lost in his reverie that he didn't notice Thorin' s glances in his direction, both bemused and suspicious.

When Bilbo finished Thorin stood up and motioned for Bilbo to follow. The hobbit stood up quickly, stubbing his toe on his chair as he did so and letting out a muffled curse that would have turned Lobelia's ears red if she'd heard, and followed Thorin out of the dining room. He didn't see the small smile again curving Thorin's lips, hidden as it was by the grey-streaked beard.

They made their way to the treasury, down in the lower levels. As they descended the noise of the dwarves from the Iron Hills rebuilding the mines could be heard, a great hammering and pounding as many dwarves carved at great blocks of stone and moved them into place. There was still much to do, and Thorin looked around his home sadly, taking in again the magnitude of the damage the dragon had wrought. Thankfully the work was being completed faster than expected, so there was hope that Erebor would be restored to its former glory in not too long a time from then.

'I shall have to send something to Dain as payment for the workers he's provided us with,' Thorin explained to Bilbo, his curls just reaching Thorin's shoulder. 'And as thanks,' Thorin admitted, grudgingly. He didn't like having to thank Dain, who had done nothing to help all those years before, when the dragon had come, and had left his people to wander alone and starve...

At a small warm touch to his hand from Bilbo, Thorin snapped out of his silent rage and unclenched his fists (he didn't remember clenching them in the first place). Gratefully he gave a Bilbo a nod, and Bilbo just patted his hand affectionately. Thorin felt a lump build in his throat; he gave thanks to Mahal every day for sending him to the halfling, for giving him this friend who kept him sane even in the fires of his anger. Only Balin had managed to do so before, and Thorin was sure the old dwarf relished handing the job of keeping Thorin's temper in check to someone else.

'And why do you need me?' Bilbo asked, laughing. 'I don't know anything about jewels. Or Dain, for that matter.'

'No,' agreed Thorin, 'but you can help me decide - give an unbiased opinion, so to speak. All the others will try to sway me - they all have their favourite gems, you see, so would advocate anything, if it had their gem in it.'

'Alright,' Bilbo agreed readily enough, and looked at Thorin. 'What are their favourite gems?'

'Glóin favours rubies, and always has done. I think they remind him of his wife and his son,who both have his red hair,' Thorin chuckled. 'Balin likes diamonds, simple and clean. There's no surprises in a diamond, and I think Balin just wished everything were that clear-cut. Fíli and Kíli prefer opals - but I think that's only because Dís always loved them...'

'And you?' Bilbo asked. 'What are your favourites?'

'Emeralds,' Thorin replied brusquely, and said nothing more about it. When Bilbo asked why he merely shook his head and pressed his lips together in a tight line and refused to say anything else. Knowing when to quit, Bilbo stopped and the two reached the treasury in silence, Thorin pushing open the large stone door and ushering Bilbo inside. The light of the torches flickering in their brackets guttered at the draught, reflecting off the piles of coins and gold and jewels in the room, creating a golden haze which Bilbo found increasingly off-putting and made him want to keep rubbing his eyes as if he could clear his sight that way.

Bilbo followed Thorin inside and peered dutifully among the great stacks for something that would be of use, that would be a worthy gift to the Lord of the Iron Hills. The gems and jewellery were pretty, but there was so much of it - golden necklaces that were made of so much gold that when Bilbo lifted it it was all he could do to keep his arm up; scabbards covered in gems that were so heavy Bilbo couldn't lift them in the first place.

They wandered in silence, for the most part, until Thorin broke it.

' What did you and Balin talk about, yesterday evening?' he asked, pausing from inspecting a shield glittering with precious stones forming the shape of a snake.

'Don't give him that,' Bilbo advised, pointing to the shield. 'Wouldn't do if he thought you were hinting, now, would we?' Bilbo paused for a while longer before answering; if Balin hadn't told Thorin, was there a reason? Should Bilbo not tell him either?

But then reason reared its head - Thorin was the King and he needed to know who was going to be going and coming and who was living in the mountain, so Bilbo also stopped what he was doing.

'Balin has written to the Blue Mountains. You will have new residents here in a few months, Thorin!' he said finally, a smile playing across his open face. But Thorin looked simply thunderstruck.

'And he didn't think to ask me? To discuss with me?' he said, and Bilbo could see his temper being lost in possibly the worst sulk of Thorin's adult life.

'Oh! no, not all of them! He hasn't invited them all! Only your family. Yours and that of your company. Bombur and Glóin miss their families,' Bilbo explained, feeling sad for the two of them, but also relieved that the cloud of Thorin's anger was peeling away from him.

'Oh,' was all Thorin said, before returning to sifting through the golden mounds. Uncertain of what 'oh' meant, Bilbo asked him,

'Are you angry?' His voice was low and a hint of worry was evident. Thorin looked at him again, those blue eyes skewering him in place. His gaze softened as he regarded Bilbo, saw the nervousness in his green eyes.

'No,' he said quietly. 'I'm not angry. It was... It was kind of you. I should stop being surprised by that by now, but...' He gave Bilbo a smile, a proper smile that smoothed away the tired lines that mapped their way across his face and Bilbo couldn't help an answering smile stretch across his own face in return.

Bilbo looked away first, feeling the need to fidget under Thorin's continued gaze. He turned to rifle again through a stack of treasure and was relieved when he felt Thorin's eyes leave him, huffing out a little breath. Then his eyes landed on something - a platinum mail shirt covered in pearls and gold and tiny rubies. Perhaps it was not as fine as the mithril shirt Thorin had gifted him, but it was a worthy gift nonetheless.

'What about this?' he asked, lifting it and showing it to Thorin. The gold winked in the light from the torches , casting little puddles of gold onto Bilbo's own face. He took it to Thorin to inspect closer, and the dwarf scrutinised it closely. Eventually however he nodded, and a little bubble of achievement rose up in Bilbo at this success.

'It's perfect for Dain,' Thorin said. 'I knew you'd choose well.' Bilbo could detect the slight mirth in Thorin's voice and grinned at him, giving him a bow.

'Always happy to be of service,' he laughed. Thorin chuckled low in his throat, a deep sound that Bilbo felt rather than heard, and the two headed back to others with Dain's gift in tow, Thorin in a better mood than he had been for many days; his eyes were lighter and the line of his mouth less severe than usual. If the others noticed how his laughter came easier or smiles more often when Bilbo was around, none of them said anything; Balin may have sent his King a little wink over dinner that evening, but Thorin merely ignored him and returned his attention to the hobbit seated at his side.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this! An advance warning: these chapters are LONG. I've got the first four written and they're really long!

I would really love to know what you thought about this first chapter - anything at all, please let me know! Thank you all so much for reading :3