A/N: definite thanks to my beta, killerwhiterose, for catching my mistakes and keeping me honest :)

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Two nights later, Bilbo startled awake in the dark to find that the tiny little carved pony he'd admired had been finished and tucked into his hand. He turned towards the faded fire to better see the details and was amazed by how lifelike the figure truly was. It had even been rubbed with different oils, nut oils if his nose told true, to lend the mane and tail a darker bit of shading than the body. Bilbo felt a tear well up and he freely allowed it to fall rather than stifle the urge- everyone was asleep and the simple yet thoughtful gift was something that touched him.

The tear fell from the corner of his eye and crystallized into a gem by the time he heard it plop softly onto the bedroll by his ear. Bilbo reached up to retrieve it and felt a bit disappointed that he couldn't really see much about it, other than it was a very light shade of blue, due to the fire having burned down. He kept it fisted safely in his free hand as he rolled over to go back to sleep, still clutching the little pony in his other hand.

Morning, when it came, greeted the company with a wet and nearly impenetrable fog. Bilbo could see barely another hobbit-length in front of himself as he maneuvered around and dodged the sleep clumsy dwarves. Finally though, he found the one he wanted and waited until Bifur turned to acknowledge him. Bilbo still clasped the tiny pony, small enough to fit easily into his hand, to his chest and he held out his other hand to the baffled dwarf.

"Thank you so very much, Master Bifur, you truly didn't need to," Bilbo started out, but was quickly silenced by Bifur's fierce yet reassuring expression as the toy-maker nodded. He quickly reconsidered that perhaps gift giving could be important to dwarves and he shouldn't protest, so he simply shook his hand a bit to draw attention to it. "Then I'd be honored if you'd take my gift in return as a gesture of friendship."

The little stone dropped into Bifur's waiting hand and he rolled it around in his palm as he peered at it closely. Bilbo still couldn't see much other than to confirm that it was lighter than the other two that he'd given, but he didn't feel disappointed in any way. They were not his gems to keep, and Yavanna chose in ways which were not his for understanding to match the stone with its intended bearer, so Bilbo didn't need to worry beyond a wish to sate his own bottomless curiosity.

Bifur closed his hand over the gem and, while watching Bilbo carefully, gave a little bow of thanks before he pulled a little engraved silver tube out of his beard, unstopped the top, and dropped the gem inside before he secured it once again among his hair. Bilbo blinked several times as he tried to avoid staring at the odd sight. That certainly was a new one on him, though he could see the benefits of such a hiding place- no thief could easily access it without the owner knowing well about it. The dwarf watched Bilbo carefully and then tipped his head forward expectantly, though slightly tilted to the side; Bilbo's forehead furrowed in concentration as he tried to think what Bifur could possibly want, until he apparently lost patience with waiting and simply reached up to gently grab the back of Bilbo's neck and bring their foreheads to rest together for a few seconds.

"Oh," Bilbo breathed in both understanding and some nerves, as he hadn't expected to be grabbed. "Um, you're welcome?" he guessed and received a soft snort of a laugh in return as they separated. Bifur at least looked amused even as he shook his head a bit, though it was more like how Bilbo's uncle had looked when Bilbo was a very young lad and had greatly entertained the old hobbit by missing something that the rest of the adults understood. It was a feeling that he got often now with how reclusive some of these dwarves were.

Dwalin's shout to pack up rolled over camp, though dimmed by the fog, and Bilbo started to turn away only to turn back as he remembered his manners. Just because one couldn't speak to him in his language didn't mean that he shouldn't offer. "Please, call me Bilbo when you speak of me?" he requested.

Oddly, Bifur seemed to understand the request for he pointed to himself and nodded meaningfully back at Bilbo. "And I am to use your name?" he guessed again, though correctly this time as he got a decisive nod in return. "Thank you, my friend," Bilbo offered again before the two had to part in order to pack up their night's mess and ready themselves for another day of riding.

The day passed in dreary, cold, wet misery as the fog didn't lift until late afternoon, well after it had soaked everyone to the skin with chill water. No one was in a good mood at all and Bilbo kept to the back of the line to stay out of their way, though Bofur and Bifur dropped back regularly to keep him company. Even the normally boisterous Fíli and Kíli were bedraggled and subdued by the time they stopped for the night. No one spoke much after dinner, though Bilbo tucked himself between Bofur and Bifur again to watch as they carved, and he completely missed the mix of curious and indulgent expressions which spread through the camp as dwarves noticed his closeness to the cousins. He did, however, happen to glance up and catch the looks of disapproval coming from Dwalin and Thorin. Those nearly made him shrink back into himself until he was jostled slightly by his friends, and Bilbo firmly refocused his attention to a much more pleasant pair of dwarves until he was ready to retire for the night.

The next night was mind-numbing terror and flashes of memory as he tried (and failed) to escape from three trolls. Even with thirteen dwarves fighting them, he still managed to get himself caught, and had to fight down the instinct to shed hopeless tears as he waited for Thorin to stand impassively while the trolls tore him to bits. When they all chose to discard their weapons instead, he was so relieved that he nearly lost consciousness, blackness encroaching and his vision tunneling, but then that could have been more due to the fact that he'd been holding his breath than from anything else.

He did his best to stall for time, mind still rather thick from the fading panic and disbelief that they saved him that he honestly didn't recall just what all he nattered on at the trolls. Apparently not all of it was flattering if he went by the offended looks some of the company were giving him as they dressed.

Kíli and Fíli held him back as everyone else trooped off to follow Gandalf to the trolls' cave and Bilbo turned a questioning expression to them. "Yes, can I help you?" he asked when the pair seemed reluctant to speak up.

Fíli nudged his brother hard, nearly making him stumble, and the younger dwarf spoke up. "We wanted to apologize to you, for sending you after the trolls alone and getting you into this mess," he earnestly said to Bilbo once he'd finished glaring at his brother. He stepped back smoothly, stomping on Fíli's foot.

"And we owe you our thanks for thinking quickly enough to keep us alive. If you hadn't thought to delay them, we'd be far fewer this morning," Fíli and Kíli both bowed to him and finished together. "Thank you, Master Baggins, for saving our lives."

"Oh, oh my. It really wasn't anything special, I'm sure either of your would have done it if I hadn't," Bilbo stammered, caught by their honest gratitude and surprised at how much it made his heart swell in return. The brothers hadn't ever truly been cold or dismissive to him during the journey, only more like his mischievous Took cousins who saw any living being as fair game for their lively pranks, and he easily forgave them for the night's problems.

"Actually," Fíli spoke up, "I was tied to a spit and couldn't do anything of the sort, and Kíli, well, he couldn't think up anything like what you did if you gave him a week…" Fíli's taunt was broken off as his brother shoved him into a pile of decaying leaves.

"What the idiot meant was, even Uncle Thorin couldn't think of a way to get us out of the situation, so don't make light of what you did and don't let his grumbling make you feel like you didn't do a great service," Kíli managed to say even as he dodged his brother's retaliatory strikes.

Bilbo backed away to remain clear of the altercation as the two became more actively entangled. "Well then, I thank you for your appreciation," he said, and slipped away to rejoin the others. Those two were definitely like his little cousins, even down to the fighting, though usually his cousins fought over mushrooms and pipe-weed. He smartly stepped to the side as the brothers tripped over each other and went rolling together down the hill towards the troll cave, laughing the entire way as if it was entirely their idea to go all topsy-turvy down the little hill. As soon as they were out of sight, Bilbo swallowed thickly and allowed his emotions their freedom. He was surprised, yet somehow not truly, when two tears dripped down to land in his palm as perfectly identical gems. They were both perfectly round as all his tears ended up being, yet their color was the exact same shade of sapphire.

Hearing voices, Bilbo quickly dropped them into his pouch and barely had it secured when Fíli and Ori appeared within sight to beckon him on. "Come on, Master Baggins," Ori encouraged, "you really don't want to miss seeing this!"

Even though he rather was sure that he did want to miss seeing a troll cave, he allowed the two to chivvy him along and rejoin the others outside of the dirty great hole in the ground. The cave defied even his active imagination. The stench rising from its mouth was worse than the time Odo Proudfoot's cow fell into the dry well during that summer and they couldn't get its body back out again. Bilbo felt his stomach rise as he tried to back away. The dwarves didn't seem to want him to go far, and kept pushing him behind them towards the safety rocky outcropping, which was far too close to the cave for his tastes.

He was just considering how best to escape from this newfound protection when everyone emerged from the cave, ready to go. Much to his dismayed amazement Gandalf called him over to hand him a small sword from the hoard. Even as Bilbo protested taking it, the old wizard explained that he'd need it for his own protection. He stopped protesting as he thought it over- last night he was caught because he was attempting to steal a knife from one of the trolls in order to free the ponies; if he'd had his own sword or knife, much of the situation may have been changed. Bilbo gave in and took the sword without further argument even as a cry went up about an incoming intruder.

What followed soon after that was far more sheer terror and running for his life than could ever be healthy.