Bilbo Baggins had a fear of water. It wasn't uncommon for a hobbit to be unable to swim, and hobbit mothers often told tales of drowned hobbits to warn their faunts away from the dangerous Brandywine, but Bilbo's case was a bit more severe than most. His cousins had often invited him to go fishing, and each time Bilbo would barely suppress a shudder before declining hastily and locking himself away in his hobbit hole.

When Bilbo was only nine years of age, he had been dragged into the river by Fosco Maggot, who he had always found played too rough, and the other hobbit hadn't realized the strength of the current or the dangers of his actions before it was already too late. Bilbo had ended up being dragged head over heels into the stream, unable to find the surface, terrified as he inhaled gulps of the muddy water. Luckily, the boy had called for help, and soon the strong hands of Hamfast Gamgee were yanking poor Bilbo back out of the water to heave the river from his lungs and onto the grass. Bilbo had avoided Fosco and the water from then on, comfortable that the only water he ever submerged himself in was that of his bathtub.

Bilbo had managed to avoid all deep water so far on their adventure, the only water they ever encountered shallow streams in which they refilled their canisters and bathed, the water barely even coming to his calves. He knew for sure if the dwarves found out about his phobia they would ridicule him for it, and as Bilbo was just beginning to prove himself, he'd rather they never found out. He just hoped they never came to a point where swimming was required.

Bilbo Baggins' luck had run out when it came to escaping the Elvenking's halls, and it was only as a last resort that Bilbo settled on the barrel plan. He would have to face his fear if he was to save the Company and their quest, even though his throat nearly closed up at the thought of what he had to do.

Plunging into the shockingly cold current, Bilbo quickly clung to the side of the nearest barrel, his teeth clenched tightly and his heart racing madly. One slip of his hands and he was done for.

What followed was a nightmare of bobbing barrels, powerful currents, and mouthfuls of water.

By the time they finally climbed to the banks of the river near the Long Lake, Bilbo couldn't say he remembered much of the water ride at all, except the awful sensation of nearly drowning. He was shaking uncontrollably and his breath was coming in fast pants, his knuckles white on the side of the barrel. He was quite sure Nori was staring at him questioningly, since it was his barrel to which Bilbo was clinging, but Bilbo couldn't bring himself to care. Why, oh why hadn't he claimed a barrel for himself?

They had started tugging the barrels to shore and the dwarves were climbing out grumpily, but Bilbo couldn't seem to get himself under control, even now that the water was calm and shallow, and there was no more risk of drowning.

He crawled up onto the bank, limbs shaking, until he finally collapsed with a sob. He hadn't meant to break down in front of the dwarves, but he was overloaded. Pulling his knees up to his chest and hiding his face in them, Bilbo could feel his composure slipping.

His shoulders shook with sobs. He could still feel the awful tug of the water against his feet, could still hear it in his ears, taste it on his tongue. His lungs couldn't drag in enough air and the water that was drenching him felt cloying, smothering. The terror he had felt before was finally crashing in on him.

In some sane corner of his mind, he was aware of worried voices around him, but that was just background noise to the terrible rushing in his ears. He wanted to scream, wanted to tear at his hair.

A warm hand grasped his upper arm and he started heavily, jerking away before his eyes landed on Thorin crouched in front of him, his brow knotted in concern and looking just as drenched as Bilbo felt.

"Bilbo?"

Bilbo made to curl back into himself, to hide, but Thorin reached forward and cupped his hands on either side of Bilbo's face.

"Bilbo, what happened?"

Bilbo couldn't help the way his eyes fluttered at his touch and the soft cadence of his deep voice. Bilbo's chest was still heaving, but he grasped Thorin's wrists like a lifeline.

It took him a few moments of watching Thorin's worried expression and basking in the feeling of his touch before he was sure he could speak.

"I- I can't swim," he choked out, his voice thin and weak.

Thorin's eyes widened slightly.

"I'm deathly afraid of the water," he said in an even smaller voice.

"Yet your plan involved escaping on the river?"

"It was the only way I could think of." His voice caught on a hiccup that sounded more like a sob than anything. Thorin's hands tightened on the sides of Bilbo's face and his gaze was searching.

"You tossed yourself into a river to save us? You could have drowned!"

Bilbo nodded weakly, unable to suppress a shudder at the thought of death by water. "It was the only way."

He suddenly found himself enveloped in a warm embrace, being practically pulled into Thorin's lap, and he was surprised for a moment before he went completely limp, clinging weakly to the larger frame.

"You surprise me at every turn, Burglar," Thorin said, his voice close to Bilbo's ear. "I will think that I've learned the extent of your bravery, and then you do something even braver."

"Being terrified of water isn't exactly a strength," Bilbo responded flatly, soaking up as much of the dwarf's warmth as he could. They were both soaked, but Bilbo found he didn't mind the wet embrace.

Thorin pulled back enough to look Bilbo in the eye with a serious expression.

"You threw yourself into a river for us, despite being terrified. That is brave."

Bilbo didn't really have anything to say to that, but as Thorin had pulled him back into his arms, he found he didn't really need to.

"Sorry to interrupt, but we should get going if we want to reach Laketown before nightfall."

Both Thorin and Bilbo looked up at Balin, who seemed sorry to have encroached on their moment.

"We'll be right there," Thorin responded a touch sharply, but Balin just gave him a knowing look and a smirk and turned back to where the rest of the Company was standing a way off, all of them purposefully looking in different directions.

Thorin turned back to Bilbo. "We owe our lives to you, many times over," Thorin said softly, pressing his forehead against Bilbo's in an achingly affectionate way that had Bilbo's heart clenching.

"I was only-"

Thorin cut off his protest with a gentle thumb over Bilbo's mouth. "You saved our lives and our quest, and I will not hear you downplaying your cleverness." He brushed Bilbo's sodden bangs backwards, out of his face. "Are you well enough to keep moving?"

Bilbo nodded, and then gave a squawk of surprise when Thorin stood, lifting Bilbo as he did so, before gently depositing the hobbit on his feet.

"Was that necessary?" Bilbo grumbled, tugging his sodden clothing into place.

Thorin merely smirked, and they followed their companions away from the terrible river. Bilbo felt something that had been loose inside him settle into place as their shoulders brushed.

Later, when they hitched a ride with Bard and he was steering them through tall, dangerous rocks on the water, Thorin wrapped a strong arm around Bilbo's shoulders and allowed the hobbit to lean against him. Bilbo found that the water off the sides of the boat wasn't as terrifying when he was in a dwarf king's arms.

He found that there wasn't much that terrified him when Thorin smiled at Bilbo like he was the stars in the sky.