7.

"The weight of your discontent tonight lays heavily on the company, my boy."

I'd heard the distinctive sound of Balin's approach as he stirred the leaves littering the courtyard, but I did not acknowledge him. When he spoke, I did not turn my eyes from the night sky rising high above the forest like the glittering diamond ceilings I remembered from my youth.

"And I'm sure you have a suggestion for easing my worry, old man."

Balin chuckled. "Of course. What better way to put discontent aside than to lose yourself in a bit of physical respite, eh? Nori was looking for you earlier. And there's Bofur, if you've a mind to bury yourself in an enthusiastic receiver. It's true any of the lads would welcome the chance to join you in your chamber tonight. Choose one and take him before the rest pair off. Forget your troubles for an evening."

In all honesty, I'd considered doing just that. I knew it was what most of my kinsmen would expect, and indeed would do themselves. But then as I considered, I thought about the pleasures to be found in the bodies of my fellows—rutting against cords and ropes of muscle covered by coarsely furred skin, the grip and thrust of hot, rough hands and wide, jutting staffs—and felt not the slightest temptation.

I could feel Balin's gaze like a weight on my chest, intuitively gauging my lack of interest. "And, of course, there is another option." His voice was low, careful, as he continued.

I flinched. It was slight, barely there, but one who'd known me as long as Balin would not have missed it. There was a long pause before he realized I wasn't going to acknowledge this suggestion.

"Why will you abstain?" He demanded, voice consternated. "In your Grandfather's time, dwarf men and elf women laid together at will. Gloin told me at dinner tonight that the pleasure women here made their interest in you quite evident. You needn't trust them or like them to use their bodies, boy. There is status to be had, mating with a dwarf. Give them what they want, and take what you desire in return."

My heart stuttered. He was suggesting—by the blood of Thror. No.

"I value your friendship and your council, Balin. But do not tell me to do such a thing again. You know my distaste of elves. And you of all people know the reason for my feelings."

"Your distrust did not always preclude your behavior."

I felt a wash of shame, remembering my past. Remembering Tharanduil. In my youth, I had more than once explored the delights to be found in the body of an elf. But that was before they—before he—betrayed my trust. I could forgive anything. Except a betrayal.

"I was a child. Now I am a man, and I know better. I will hear no more of this."

Perceptive eyes studied me. "When I first made the suggestion, you did not react so bluntly. With whom did you think I was suggestion you slake your desires?"

I shook my head firmly. "We will speak no more of this, Balin. Away from me now. I will keep my own counsel, and if the company is disturbed by my mood, I'll thank them to leave me to it."

Well aware of the consequences of trying my patience, Balin bowed slightly and quietly slipped away, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Fool's thoughts which now were filled with images of eyes sparking with unexpected fire and the imagined feel of a slight frame under mine, welcoming and smelling of cloves and grass and peaceful quiet.

8.

In the hallway as I walked to my room, I could hear arguing.

"I'll not stand for it," Gloin declared. "Just because I'm the only one with a wife, doesn't mean I should have to be saddled with the Hobbit for the night."

"I beg your pardon!" Bilbo's disgruntled voice piped up. "What do you mean, 'saddled with the Hobbit?'"

"Yes," I drawled, approaching without notice. "What do you mean?"

The clutch of dwarfs in front of me—and one little Hobbit—jumped in surprise. "Gloin?" I prompted.

"Eh—it's just, most of the others have—paired off, you might say. Leaving myself and Master Baggins. And as each room has only the one bed—well—you can see the problem."

I could, in fact, see the problem. For all that it is rare, once a dwarf marries, he or she will not lie with any other even after the death of their spouse. At night as we camped, Gloin took care to make certain his bedroll didn't touch his neighbor's. Sharing a bed with the Hobbit would be impossible for him, sharing even a private room with just two abhorrent in its own right. And, yet, the idea of the Hobbit joining any of the others was displeasing to me. Extremely displeasing.

"—he's a Hobbit fully grown and well aware of the ways of the world. Let him go with one of the couples," Gloin groused at me. "He might even enjoy himself."

A rumble of agreement, followed quickly by unwillingness to be the pair who actually accepted the Hobbit followed on the heels of Gloin's suggestion.

Beside the large dwarf, Bilbo choked. "Er—no. I'd rather not, thank you. Perhaps I could just spread my pallet here in the hall. I don't need a bed, really. After a month on the road, I'm quite content with a—firm surface. Good for the back and all that."

"Enough." I declared. "He'll come with me."

"I—come with—are you sure that's a sound plan? I—"

I silenced the Halfling with a glance pleased that for once he didn't argue.

"Now, to bed, all of you. We leave with the dawn. Gandalf has arranged a diversion for us."

I turned on my heel and walked toward my room, Bilbo trailing reluctantly—but obediently—behind me. As we walked away, I heard Gloin whisper, "Will Thorin not seek—"

"The prince's mind is on matters of greater importance than the flesh," Balin interrupted harshly. "Do not question his judgment."

I had to bite back an incredulous snort as I entered my chamber. Do not question, indeed.

"Wh—what is it?"

The Hobbit's voice startled me.

"What is what?" I asked, sounding perhaps more gruff than I intended.

"You seemed—amused."

I shook my head. "Nothing of importance. Come, Halfling. I'm tired."

"Right, then." For a second, Bilbo looked wistfully at the bed then started to slowly unroll his pallet.

"Don't be a fool. I'll not make you sleep on the floor when there's a bed big enough to fit ten of us, let alone two."

"I—I don't understand. Are you suggesting—that is to say, I heard the others, and—"

"Calm yourself. I have no interest in availing myself of your charms, Hobbit. You hold no interest to me beyond your services as a burglar."

"O—of course. I hadn't thought you'd—well then, I'll just. Right. Good. Washroom's through here, then?"

The Hobbit scurried away as I clenched my fists and prayed for strength.

I would get no sleep this night. Liars rarely slept easy, and fools less so. I was both. A liar for denying my desire, and a fool for feeling it at all.