AN: Hey my lovelies, so this chapter was written at like 2 o'clock this morning so sorry if it's awful. These wonderful characters aren't mine. Hope you like!

Thorin spared a quick glance at the hobbit. A smile played his lips as he noticed him humming to himself. The events of earlier flashed through his mind with a pang. That was a most welcome turn of events. But it stung how quickly he had let go. Was he ashamed of him? Was it so wrong to feel for another of the same gender? The sudden sadness turned to annoyance. He was so infuriating lately, winding his way into his thoughts uninvited. But there he was nonetheless, with his infectious smile and his curls. His eyes skimmed over the same sentence for the fourth time as he sighed heavily. Balin looked up at him, that all knowing smirk on his lips. It burned him to the core.

"Is it really that obvious?"

"No. It's even more so."

He groaned, leaning back in a most unkingly fashion. For now he could care less, no one was looking save Balin. And he was the only one allowed to see him so. Shame rolled around his stomach. He was supposed to be a portrait of regality. He should be strong and proud at all times. He was a descendant of kings for Mahal's sake! Yet he had a weakness. He had a spot softer than his touch or the feel of his hair. A spot that never seemed to give him peace. A spot situated so deeply in his heart it ached. From what he'd always been taught these types of feelings shouldn't hurt. They should fill you with light and happiness. They should let one be unashamed and bold in their signs of affections. But he was a king. He had to behave as a king would. Sighing again, he sat up straight and pinched the bridge of his nose. His head was starting to hurt. All these emotions and thoughts were too much.

"I don't understand what's holding you back." his voice cut sharply through his disheartened musings.

"You know very well."

"Thorin you're not your forefathers. Times have changed."

"Tradition has not."

"A new kingdom means new laws, new traditions. You are to be king! You can change the social status for the better. No one should have to hide their affections if they're true, as yours are."

He spared a glance, a stare really, at his nephews at that. He couldn't have asked the two to hide their feelings for each other. He knew what went on when they shared watches. He knew why they took so long to gather firewood and why they always did it without complaining. It warmed his heart to see them as they were. It was a beautiful thing to see love. But he also knew if he was not excepted he would have to ask them to put their love for one another aside to make heirs. His smile fell. Who was he? He was the king and he had more than enough authority and respect to force them to do his wishes. But he wouldn't. He wouldn't dare. It hurt too much to be so close yet so far, as he was. To have what you love be forbidden from your touch was agony. Why was he so upset by this? It was girlish and most undwarven for him to be acting as he was.

"You have heirs that can procreate and have heirs. As well as others from the line that can step up. So that is no longer an excuse. No one thinks it improper. We can all see the way you moon over one another. And though I would've agreed with you some weeks ago, the hobbit has more than shown his merit. I would not mind in the slightest watching him stand beside you."

He stared at the older dwarf for a long time. No words could form because everything he had said was true. It contradicted itself in his mind with many, many reasons not to act on the ache in him. But it was true nonetheless. He was king. If they didn't like it they'd have to overthrow him. Yes. That was it. He'd make his intentions known. But when? Balin smirked, leaning back into the sitting position. He had won. Thorin started to stand, courage mustered and heart full. This was the day! He slammed the inventory log in front of him with vigor as his mind flew. How? How could he show his interest without blurting his feelings from the rooftops? Although that would've been ideal, it wasn't rational. The king had to have a sense of propriety around him-...His voice rang through camp, signaling the beginning of breakfast. He felt his pulse pick up in an alarming way that was becoming more and more frequent. Fear be damned! He was the King Under the Mountain for Mahal's sake! He had killed orcs and wargs like they were nothing on numerous occasions. He managed to strike reverence into the hearts of his kin out of intimidation. He was solid. He was the image of strength among their race. And yet, he couldn't speak his feelings to a hobbit who's head fit rather comfortably under his chin and couldn't wield a sword worth a lick. What did it matter that he had a dusting of freckles or he could sing?

Thorin strode over to the fire with purpose. Kíli and Fili seemed to find something he had done immensely funny. A hastily sharpened glare silenced the pair fairly quickly. Bilbo's eyes were far away as he handed a bowl to one of the mischievous brothers. His gaze seemed to drift more frequently lately. And he was gone for the longest time. It worried him sometimes, to see the other so lost. Did he miss his Shire? Dud he wish to be there instead of here with them...with him? He shook his head to clear it, a vain attempt in all truth. His eyes locked with the earthy green ones now back within themselves. It was hard to describe that color, like honey mixed with moss. Everywhere flecked with blue and gold, precious stones of his youth reborn. His heart thrummed even faster if that was possible. This hobbit was all-consuming! Everything about him filled and completed him. What was so special about him? What?

He stayed his thoughts, forcing himself to instead focus on breakfast. Whatever he had made smelled delicious. The oily, delicately burnt scent of slightly overcooked meat mingled most pleasantly with fried eggs and the usual sweaty mess that was early morning dwarf. The chill of his earthen bowl was most welcome on the beautiful late morning. The air was warm. A breeze flitted through the trees and the hobbit's golden curls every once in a while. He felt a smile creep across his lips. It was a perfect day in all respects. The sound of a throat clearing pulled him out of his musings sharply. He was gazing up at him expectantly. Eyes were burning into the back of his head.

"Yes?"

"I asked if you would prefer to have ham or bacon."

"Well it is a day of rest." he chuckled with the others "Why not have both?"

A few minutes passed. He sat. Soon he was deep in conversation with Dwalin, Gloin, and Nori about the contents of the dragon's hoard, between mouthfuls of food of course. He barely even saw when Kíli dragged Bilbo off towards the woods, and thought even less of it. Unbeknownst to him was the nature of this visit from his Uncle's eyes. The young dwarf was restless as ever. He needed answers. And hopefully he would get not only those but cooperation.