The sight of the two dwarves battling was like art in motion. Their bodies gleamed with sweat, and they moved as if they were dancing. Both Thorin and Dwalin weaved expertly between the flashes of metal, a fluidity to their movements that spoke of long familiarity. The sight entranced Bilbo, but the most appealing aspect was the large grin on Thorin's face. It stripped years off his appearance, and spoke of the mischief he must have gotten up to in his younger years. Bilbo was too far to hear their comments but Thorin must have something derisive because Dawlin was snarling and Thorin smirking.

Dawlin let out a roar and charged, swinging his axes in sync. Thorin was on the defensive and holding his own but Dawlin's sheer force was beyond reckoning. He was able to disarm Thorin and knock the King down in a move far to quick for Bilbo to follow. Both dwarves were breathing heavily, as Dawlin dropped his axes to the floor and sat next to his King.

Bilbo approached to hear Thorin ask, "Feel better?"

Dwalin just sighed, his big muscles shifting but didn't reply.

"I'm beginning to think I should have brought mead rather than food," said Bilbo.

"Dawlin does look like he needs to drown his sorrows," smirked Thorin.

Dawlin shot a mighty scowl the King's way. "Remember who just laid you out on the ground, laddie."

Thorin leaned back on his hands. Grinning, he said, "Don't let it go to your head, old friend, I let you win."

"I'd watch who you are calling old, my king," Dawlin replied with a raised eyebrow.

The two scowled at each other and Bilbo just smiled. "Boys, settle down. I don't want to have to separate you two." He placed the plate of food next to Thorin and settle down with the two warriors. He then gave the king a look. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

"A King's duty is never done," sighed Thorin, a martyred expression on his face.

"Well it is for tonight. You are officially off duty." Bilbo gave him a stern look and Dwalin snorted in amusement.

Narrowing his eyes, Thorin asked, "And what, my dear hobbit, makes you think you can give a king such orders?"

"Not my king. Plus, Balin said I could."

At that, Dawlin collapsed in laughter, while Thorin mumbled under his breath. Words like traitor and mineshaft were vaguely clear and Bilbo suspected they were about him.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Dawlin clambered to his feet. He made a half bow to Thorin and said, "I'll leave you two to your domestic. I better make sure the guards are making their rounds."

Thorin nodded at Dawlin, and watched his friend walk away.

Bilbo spoke up. "Him and Nori still having issues?"

"Apparently. They are both being stubborn."

"It must be hard for both of them," mused Bilbo. "Dawlin is as straight laced as they come and Nori, well let's just say he can be morally challenged."

Thorin snorted. "That is putting it lightly."

"Anyway," continued Bilbo as he tugged Thorin's beard, "being attracted to someone that has a completely different set of values can be difficult. They just need to find a way to compromise."

"It's time for them to give in or give up. If only so the rest of us can finally be put out of our misery, "grumbled Thorin.

"Oh stop being such a cynic. You're just upset about losing the betting pool."

"I can't believe Dwalin hasn't manned up by now."

"I'm pretty sure he has, Nori is just playing hard to get."

Thorin raised an eyebrow, "Oh really? Do tell, Master Burglar."

"Come on, you gossipy housewife," laughed Bilbo. "You need a break from all your kingly duties. I think food, bath and bed are in order."

Bilbo stood and held out his hand to help Thorin up. Thorin grasped it and let himself be pulled up. He did not let go immediately, however. He stared down at his little hobbit, whose cheeks began to grow rosy. Thorin smirked, "You will see me to bed? How forward of you, Master Baggins."

Bilbo gaped in shock at the dwarf. Seeing Thorin's smug expression though, snapped him out of it real quick and he punched the cheeky king in the arm.

"Ouch!"

"Dawlin must have given you to many blows to the head. You need to rest before they can declare you mentally incompetent."

"No respect," scoffed Thorin.

They set off from the area set aside for training toward Thorin's quarters. It was a companionable silence and neither felt the need to interrupt it. It was nice to be able to walk quietly next to the other and know there were no expectations. They could just be.

As they walked, signs of disrepair and reconstruction littered the halls of the once great city. Most of the damage from the dragon had resided in the mines, and the main halls. The treasure room was also worse for wear but not one of the most important concerns. For the most part, Erebor's main problem was the fact that the long years had left it inhospitable. The entire city was layered in dust and there were no sustainable food sources. Currently, the elves of Mirkwood and the dwarves of the Iron Hills were providing supplies as a temporary measures, but the lack of resources prevented the majority of Erebor's people from returning to help in the renovations. The Blue Mountains were too far for provisions to be accessible and without a permanent food source; Erebor would not be capable of sustaining a large population.

The company of soldiers from the Iron Hills had split. Half stayed to help in the reconstruction while the other half returned, so in their place, artisans and merchant could set up shop. Even at this fledgling state, Erebor was counting on trade to thrive. All the gold in the world to rebuild was not going to help, if it's people could not survive.

To Thorin, it was a daunting task. The little that could be done barely scratched the surface of the renovations needed. Once Dale began to produce a reliable source of food, Erebor's people could return and real headway could be made on the mountain. Unfortunately, it would be almost a year before that would come to fruition. In the mean time, they would just have to buckle down and make plans. One day Erebor would be a city of wealth and splendor but it would be a long way coming.

Just the thought was enough to send painful pulses behind Thorin's eyes. As he lifted his hand to rub the bridge of his nose, willing his headache to leave, Bilbo let out a soft gasp.

Turning to the hobbit, Thorin inquired, "What?"

"I left the food I brought you in the training room. I'll go down to Bombur and scrounge up some more." Bilbo was already veering in the direction to go toward the kitchens when Thorin stopped him.

Shaking his head, Thorin said, "Don't worry about it. I am not hungry anyway."

Bilbo's reply was a returned headshake, his eyes going soft. "You need to eat. This mountain can't run without you. You have to remember to take care of yourself as well."

"That is what I have you for," answer Thorin, a smile on his lips.

Bilbo's cheek turned red and he stared at Thorin with a pleased expression on his face.

Thorin could not help himself. He raised his hand to cup the hobbit's cheek, thumb skating along the redden flesh. Staring in the hobbit's eyes, he groped for words to encompass the depth of his feelings but none came to mind. All he could do was stare into those sweet eyes and bask in the affection reflecting back at him. Even though there was so much unsaid between them, Thorin could at least be comforted knowing it was mutual. Bilbo opened his mouth and closed it again, seeming to search for the same words. He settled a hand on top of Thorin's and took a deep breathe before…

"Your majesty?"

And then the moment was over.

Bilbo pulled Thorin's hand from his face and stepped back to regard the Iron Hill's guard. He didn't glance at the king's face, knowing if he did, all propriety would be thrown out the window, in favor of burying his hands in Thorin's hair and yanking him down for a kiss.

"Speak." If Thorin barked the words out a little more harshly than normal, he felt he was justified.

The guard visibly gulped but held a steady hand out with a letter.

"It is from the Princess Dis, you majesty," said the guard. Bilbo was impressed the guard managed to avoid stuttering. Having been on the receiving end of Thorin's glare, Bilbo knew it was no picnic.

"Thank you." Thorin nodded to the guard, who bowed and went away. The letter would be important. He and his sister were still coordinating plans for the Blue Mountains and the progress of Erebor. However, his hobbit was still standing there, small and utterly kissable with a slight red tint to his cheeks. Another moment interrupted but maybe not forgotten.

Except Bilbo was smiling his polite smile and was already backing away.

"I can see you are very busy, " said his hobbit, "It's getting late anyway and I should probably retire. You go rest. Also, you have the morning off, by orders of Balin and me. Try to do something fun for a change. You already have enough grey hair."

Thorin returned a wane smile, cursing the guard, his sister and the very gods for conspiring against him. "I will try."

"Good."

Giving a little wave, Bilbo forced himself to leave the corridor and the king behind. Some days it seemed like too much to hope that he and Thorin would ever talk about all those feelings brewing between them. There was always something to do or someone to help and the few times they were alone, fate intervened leaving them both adrift with so much left unsaid. Well like always, he would have to worry about that later. Right now he had to find Balin and convince him Thorin needed the morning off. A hobbit's job was never done!