First off I want to say thank you to everyone who reviewed. Comments always help inspire me to write faster, and it's good to know everyone is enjoying the concept of the story so far. It's really kind of you. I meant to get this chapter out yesterday since I wrote a ton, but then I ended up falling asleep and somehow my computer did a shut down and… yeah, it was just gone. Even a recovery didn't bring it back. So, I ended up writing it all again. Luckily it was still fresh in my mind. Makes me wonder what kind of mishaps happened to Bilbo that he couldn't finish his book in 60 years either.

Chapter 2: Greed and Deeds, Fairies and Gold

The road back to the Shire was not nearly as perilous as it had been leaving it. With the battle clearing out so many goblins and orcs, there was practically none to bother them, not to mention having Gandalf along for the whole trip. He'd imagined the old man would have pulled one of his vanishing acts again, only to pop up later, but the wizard stuck by their side the whole time. Overall, the trip was a lot merrier this time, plenty of idle chatter with one another to take up their time. Thorin's side still occasionally bothered him, and he would need rest earlier than he would like due to his foot but he wouldn't hear of it when Bilbo suggested they stop their trip until he was fully healed. The hobbit wanted to be home, and he'd get him there as soon as he could.

At first having the wizard about worried him a little. He kept expected to be lectured about his actions from before, or even for coming with Bilbo to the Shire. He'd been instructed to get the Arkenstone and lead his people, and not only had he made a complete mess of it, he was now technically walking right away from the whole point of the trip in Gandalf's mind. Certainly the wizard had never shied away from sharing his opinion before, especially when someone did something that he didn't think was for the best, but nothing seemed to come from it. No knowing glances, no snide remarks about his actions, nothing at all and Thorin was all too happy not to ask about it.

Between the money Bilbo had taken with him in the chests, Thorin's own bag, and what they had dug up from the troll's lair, it had been successful enough of a journey as far as treasure hunts went. Even resting in Rivendell for a few days had been relaxing, though he'd used his foot as an excuse to stay in his room most of the time. It had long since stopped bothering him to walk on it, but he didn't really want to see any of the elves. He'd learned his lesson about greed and grown from it, but he was more than content to still feel bitter on other matters, thank you very much.

Besides, it had been very kind of Bilbo to keep him company in his room, bringing him meals and chatting away with him. He seemed to be in awe of how beautiful the place was, but was careful to add in how the halls of the Lonely Mountain were every bit as impressive. Thorin appreciated the humoring, though he wasn't sure if the expressed opinion was spoken entirely truthfully but simply let the hobbit talk.

"You're smiling," Bilbo had noted, when the dwarf had just spent an hour letting him chatter away about the trees and how green their leafs were, and wondering if it would be rude to ask for a sapling to take home and plant in his garden. Sure enough, a soft little smile had been resting on his lips, feeling content as his burglar talked. "You smile much more now than you did before."

"I suppose I do," he said, but would not betray the reason why, even when asked.

When they finally reached the border of the Shire, it was only then that Gandalf left them after months of traveling together.

"Oh, but we're so close to Hobbiton," Bilbo said. "Surely you can come a bit farther and let me make you some lunch before you go off."

"I appreciate the offer, but I've business to attend to. I will no doubt swing by again though, but for now I must leave you. Though my goodbyes must be separate," he replied.

He shooed the dwarf off before pulling Bilbo aside to speak with him, keeping his voice low as he stooped over him and clutched to his staff as he whispered. He had no idea what was being said, but he didn't think he cared for the odd laughter that erupted from Bilbo or how his nose and mouth kept twitching, a tic to show how nervous he clearly was. This whole trip the blasted old fool had been able to keep his need to be mysterious and strange down, and now he was pulling this? He sent the hobbit off before giving Thorin a strong look. He almost considered ignoring it and just heading off but he knew that would not be the end of it. Galdalf would surely follow them at that rate and he had a sudden urge to be rid of the wizard and his meddling.

"What?" he asked, not even bothering to keep his tone polite.

"Look after Bilbo," the wizard said. That baffled him. He'd been expecting the long missed lecture about his actions or something of that nature. "He needs someone who will be able to keep him safe and occupied I think, unless I am wrong and I pray that I am."

"What are you talking about? We're in the Shire now. What could possibly threaten Bilbo?" he asked.

"It isn't your place to know, Thorin Oakenshield. Just remember the time you failed to greed and try to keep him from doing the same. It's enough to keep an eye on him," he said sharply. "Be his friend and give him something else to focus on."

The words utterly confused him, but before he could demand a better explanation the wizard turned sharply and made his way off.

"What was that all about?" Bilbo asked as he walked up to him. "He looked terribly frightening there for a moment."

"He wanted me to stay by your side," he replied, seeing no reason to even lie about it. Wizards and their flairs for the dramatic. What in the world could possibly threaten Bilbo in his peaceful homeland? "As if I wasn't already going to. Besides, I think he forgot all the tales you told about Mirkwood and the dragon, and how often you were the one to rescue me."

"Oh… well, I mean," he said, trying to sound humble even as his chest puffed out a bit in obvious pride. "Just quick thinking and flexibility in tough situations, really."

"Poetic way of saying how smart you are," he said as he clapped his hand on his shoulder. "Come on. Galdalf might not want any of your cooking but I'd be more than happy for it."

Besides, he realized as they continued on, Bilbo had nerves stronger than a dragon and wisdom even the elves would find themselves jealous of. What was there to fear that the hobbit would not be able to handle?

It took a while longer to get through the country, though the maintained paths and roads were certainly easier than the Wilds. No longer a need for camping, inns with warm meals were appreciated and hot baths a luxury that the dwarf felt a little pleased he'd be able to enjoy every day now. Though when they reached Hobbiton, he found himself wishing they'd hurried a bit.

To say the sight of Bilbo Baggins followed by a dwarf of all things caused an uproar in the otherwise sleepy town was nothing compared to how the hobbit himself acted when he saw people that were walking off with his furniture. When explained to the pair of them that he'd been presumed dead by a friendly neighbor, though not friendly enough to part with the items he himself had bought, the hobbit was off in a rage to stop anything more of his being taken. Thorin followed quickly behind him to hear the midst of the auction.

"Fine Shire-made," a Mister Grubb was declaring proudly, as if it was his own hands who'd made the table he was currently bidding off. "None of your dwarvish reproductions here."

Thorin snarled and decided immediately he didn't think he liked any of these hobbits when they laughed.

"Stop!" Bilbo cried out. "Stop, there's been a mistake!"

He roughly pushed his way past the other hobbits, but they sprang aside for the dwarf, seeing how he was a good head taller than most of them. A sour faced woman looked downright offended when Bilbo declared who he was and snatched his spoons from her, and Thorin took it upon himself to grab the rest before she could protest.

"It's been more than thirteen months since the disappearance of Bilbo Baggins," Mr. Grubb said. "If you are who you say you are, can you prove it?"

Bilbo looked shocked and offended, and Thorin could see why. He'd lived here for fifty years, hadn't he? Surely some of these people had to know his face.

"He is indeed Bilbo Baggins, or I should hope so, seeing as he's been in my employ for all that time," Thorin said as he stepped forward. He really should, seeing as how Bilbo had run off without official instructions or anything of the like when he'd left mostly due to him.

"And who are you?" the female hobbit sneered, a one Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. He'd quickly learn to despise her almost as strongly as elves.

"Thorin Oakenshield," he said, intentionally leaving out the part of being at anyone's services. He wouldn't know if any of them knew the customary greeting of dwarves, and he didn't much care either. "He was with me on an expedition and he is most certainly alive."

Sadly the word of a strange dwarf carried even less weight, and Bilbo was forced to show the contract identifying the two of them. Several people who did not get anything left in a huff, but it was nothing compared to the ones that had. Bilbo even found an adult and hobbit-boy in his bedroom, measuring the walls for furniture and left Thorin to chase them out. Apparently a cousin of his, the husband of Lobelia, and their son who'd been willed the home. The dwarf was all too happy to give them a dark look and chase them off, poor Bilbo in a fluster already. The boy himself looked terrified of the dwarf and he felt not a lick of guilt over it.

In the end no lunch came. It took most of the day to get all the furniture back inside even without taking the time to put it in its proper place, and well into the evening Bilbo was looking over all the receipts for the sales. Mr. Grubb was apologetic enough over the mistake as a lawyer, even though the declaration of death had been perfectly legal, to help him make a list of everything that had been sold and to who so that he could get it back. Bilbo had asked just to borrow the book that had the records but he'd flat out refused to be parted with it, as if suspecting the other hobbit of wanting to tamper with it for some reason.

"We'll not be refunding any money ourselves though," he told an irritated Bilbo once they were finished. "Legally those items were in our possession when sold, and now legally belong to the ones who bought them. You will have to deal with it yourself. Begging your pardon, but what did you expect to happen when you ran off with not so much as even a word or how you do?"

Thorin felt it annoying how badly he was stressing the matter, surely not wanting to give up any of the money for his office he'd made. They'd only been a couple hours late getting to Bilbo's home after the auction had started, but it looked like the mess it had caused would give them a headache for a while now.

"Bother burglaring and everything to do with it," the hobbit grumbled as he sat down in his chair and gave a little sulk. It was a terribly adorable look, but the dwarf said nothing and just gave him a soft rub on his shoulder to show sympathy. "Not even a speck of food in the cupboard either, though being gone as long as I have, I guess that's to be expected. I'll have to see if young Gamgee will be kind enough to lend us something."

"Who?" Thorin asked as he started to get a fire going. Luckily there was plenty of crumpled papers around to use as a starter, though sadly there was only one log. It wouldn't last the night.

"An apprentice to my gardener, old Mr. Holman," Bilbo groaned as he stretched out. "A good lad. I imagine he'll still be up this late and wouldn't mind sharing a pie or two, and I'll give him a bit of silver for the trouble. His father's a rope maker and his mother a baker, you know. Kind people, but not too well off. It's why I hired him so young, even though he's only fifteen… well, sixteen or seventeen now I suppose."

"Is that young for hobbits?" he asked, just to seem like he was listening. He wasn't sure he cared much about gossip on his new neighbors, but it was better Bilbo talk about that than focus on the mess of his poor home.

"Oh, well, adulthood for hobbits isn't until thirty-three and even then we don't usually get jobs until our tweens, that is to say in our twenties. Even if he's young though, he works hard. I couldn't say no when he asked for work to help his family," he said before he stood up and dusted off his pants. "Well, we'll get nothing else done with empty stomachs. I'll go and see about some food, then we can get the furniture put back in place, or at least the beds. Ah, the sheets will have to be washed though, and I'm sure the mattresses will be terribly dusty. And at the very least I need to get you a-"

"Bilbo," he said as he stood suddenly and placed two finger to the hobbit's mouth. "You're babbling. I've slept in mud and on sharp rocks before. A wooden floor and a few blankets are fine, dirty or otherwise."

The hobbit stood still for a moment, the rough fingers on his lips as his cheeks began to get a little pink from the light scolding. Thorin started to become aware of the warmth of his breath and felt the oddest urge to ask him if he perhaps wanted to use the dwarf himself as a mattress that could keep him warm before pulling his hand away.

"On the other hand it is your home. Do as you will," he said and quickly went back to the fire. Thinking such nonsense. He was starting to get addle-brained. Even in love, to say such drivel would be ridiculous.

"I'll be back soon, Thorin," he said before he went off and the dwarf found himself sighing. On the trip it had felt relaxing to be with Bilbo, but maybe that's because it was what he was used to. Traveling had been his way for a long time now. Even with jobs and earning his keep, he'd always been on the move, finding work as he could. For years after the dragon, he'd tried to keep his people together, but there was never enough to sustain them all. Most of them had been craftsmen and miners, not farmers or the like. They'd traded for food, not even having many cooks, and without things to sell and make, there just hadn't been work for all of them. They'd scattered to the other hills, unable to build a town and farm any more than they would have all been able to live comfortably in one job market.

Now… now the dwarf was somewhere he could call home, a place with beds and polished silverware, teapots and… and his hobbit. He should be comfortable here, and yet somewhere in his mind he was wondering how to proceed.

Bilbo was special to him, and he wished so badly to court him, to start making him pretty things to show his love and worth to the hobbit. It had been an idle fantasy in the mountain, of decorating him in treasures and nothing else. How he could have put pretty pearls in his hair until he shown like the stars, silver bands on his fingers and around his wrists, even thin golden chains for his ankles that would rest in the hair of his feet and wrap around his toes. In the moments of his dragon sickness, when he'd thought less about the hard metals and more of soft flesh he'd thought of things that pleased him every bit as his hoard. In his worst moments he'd thought of tying his hobbit to the throne and claiming him, of ravaging Bilbo as he cried out for more and begged his king.

The thoughts no longer pleased him, in fact made him feel terribly guilty. Bilbo was precious to him, but no treasure, not an item that had no will or thoughts or feelings of his own. He was a brave yet nervous little hobbit, who'd faced down armies, dragons and spiders only to quiver at the thought of someone out of comfort because of him. A fine hobbit who loved food, cheer and song. If Thorin was to earn his love, not claim it but truly earn it, he was going to have to do it properly.

So when Bilbo came back, he moved from the fireplace to help him wash the dishes and set the table that was still in the living room. He promised Bilbo he would get all the furniture put in the right place in the morning if the hobbit promised him cleaning the beds was all he would do before allowing himself some rest.

Though when it took hours just to get one bed ready, Thorin allowed his dwarf greed to take hold a little as he firmly took the hobbit and forced him to it and made him lay down.

"It's big enough for us both, and I'm getting tired," he used as an excuse that the hobbit finally accepted. They stripped down to their pants and shirts before laying down and he promised he'd arrange for a tailor to make some sleeping clothes for the dwarf once everything was settled. Luckily Thorin had enough tact not to suggest the opposite for their solution and go without anything at all.

"Despite everything, it is nice to be back home," Bilbo said as he stared out the window and the stars. "I wonder how everyone is doing back on the mountain."

"Well, I hope," he admitted. "I'd try to get a letter to them, but I don't think it would really make it or that I'd get a reply in a timely manner."

"Do you miss it at all? Your home, I mean?"

"Yes, but I would have missed you more," he said softly.

Bilbo flushed and laughed at that, shaking his head before relaxing into the pillows. It was a warm night in the summer but Bilbo was happily deep under the blankets like a caterpillar getting ready to rest in his cocoon until emerging with bright green and yellow wings. Thorin chuckled at the thought of Bilbo fluttering around with such things on his back and happily rested next to him. He wasn't sure when his idle thoughts turned to dreams, but they were odd ones, filled with pretty little tiny insects kissing his cheeks and for some reason one becoming a fairy to lead him to pots of gold that he hugged to his chest and sang songs to. He clutched the gold a bit tighter as he started to imagine other greedy beings that would surely come and steal it, of treacherous fairies and bugs leading more to the treasure that he'd found and was therefore rightfully his. He began to see red flicks of fire coming from his nostrils before the fairy came back, somehow bravely sitting on the gold without an ounce of fear and singing sweet little songs to him before he calmed down and decided he liked having both treasures of gold and a fairy he trusted enough to guard it for him, and rested his curled and scaly body around both to sleep contently.

When Thorin woke up in the middle of the night, Bilbo happily snoozing away and buried contently into his chest as the dwarf had his arms wrapped around him, he groaned a bit. He firmly blamed the pies and closed his eyes again, even as sleep didn't come to him.

End of Chapter 2

A dwarf in Hobbiton is sure to cause a headache for all involved, though anyone could argue if it'll be the hobbits or said dwarf who will get the most grief.