Thorin was watching him again, Bilbo noted, as he set up his bed roll. He supposed it was to be expected, considering that he had only a few days ago he had been arguing with three trolls on how to properly cook them. Really, though, he wished that the King could just decide what he wanted to say and say it already! People watching him made him nervous, especially when he didn't know what they wanted.
He was better with children, really. They liked his far-fetched stories, and if they were staring, it meant he was doing well. Children don't typically pay attention if they're no longer interested.
"Master Baggins?" He jumped, turning on his knees to see Thorin standing above him, frowning. Nothing different, then.
"Ah! You startled me. Yes?" Thorin's frown deepened for a moment, before he abruptly plopped his own bed down near Bilbo's. He fiddled with it for a moment, not speaking.
"I have been wondering about your life," he finally said, stiffly. "It has occurred to me that I know little of who you are, and as a member of the Company this is an oversight on my part." Bilbo was glad that the sum was already setting; he was sure his face was bright red, if the burning was any indication.
"Oh! Well, I haven't done much, I'm sorry to say. Not proper, for a gentlehobbit to wander about the world, or take up crafts, or apparently do much of anything." He spat out the last of the words, remembering his Baggins' relatives not long after the funeral, gossiping about his respectability. His own wandering feet, his desire to pick up crafts and abilities beyond what a normal hobbit would choose.
He realized he had fallen silent, and that Thorin was still watching him. He smiled, but feared it came out sad, not pleasant.
"I'm what counts for hobbit nobility. In 'proper' gentlehobbits, it is unseemly to have a craft or even a real occupation if there is no financial need to do so. My parents left me quite a bit, enough that I can easily go the rest of my days without working."
Some days he had been fine with that; he could sit and read, or write his own stories, or sketch things he had only seen in other books and in his own mind. He had taught himself Sindarin, though his pronunciation was likely horrid. He needed his hands and mind busy, on those other days, and had begged farmers to be allowed to help for a day or so, just need a bit of hard work in the mill, or the stone mason, or the carpenters. Those days were the reason he had some of the best tomatoes in the Shire, how he knew to repair Bag End's extensive wood carvings without aid, and a good host of other talents.
"You have no craft, then?" Thorin sounded bothered, and Bilbo could see why. The dwarrows had had to scatter after Erebor had been taken, work where they could find payment, and from all accounts had barely been scraping by until Thorin had managed to make a proper settlement in the Blue Mountains. Bilbo's life was blessed in comparison.
"No, I'm afraid not. I can carve wood well enough, had to learn to be able to fix my own home, but I don't do anything paid. Not most days, anyway. When the local carpenter can't do something the hobbits of Hobbiton do sometimes come to call." He didn't ask payment, but they insisted, leading to him receiving pies and cakes for helping make a door.
Thorin was still frowning at him, but it appeared more puzzled than annoyed.
"I believe that, once again, Master Baggins, our two species have very different ways of looking at things. Dwarrows are all expected to have a craft of some type." Bilbo turned to look straight at him, eyes wide in surprise.
"Oh? Even the royal line?" Thorin chuckled, actually chuckled, and Bilbo was left reeling with the small realization that if he ever laughed full-out, Bilbo himself would probably have to swoon.
He had a lovely laugh.
"Some say that ruling is its' own craft, but yes, most do. I worked as a blacksmith while we were wandering. My own craft, however, lies in silver." He fingered one of the beads in his hair absently. Bilbo watched the fire light flicker on his face, and noted that this was one of the first civil conversations they had had.
"What of Fili and Kili? Do they have crafts as well?" Thorin shook his head, releasing the bead.
"Not as of yet, though Fili seems to favor smith work as well. When we have Erebor, and all the resources within her, they will be able to see where their interest lies. But for now, we do what we must." He fell silent again. Bilbo did as well, thoughtful.
"Is this for the purpose of courtship?" Thorin startled, turning to stare at him.
"What?" Bilbo blinked, surprised by the violent reaction.
"Every dwarf having a craft, even the royal line. Is it for courtship? The lads mentioned that the craft of a dwarf plays an important part of courting." Thorin relaxed again, though Bilbo couldn't imagine why he had reacted as he had.
"Perhaps in terms of practicality. But most dwarrows feel a calling to a craft, from the Maker, Aüle. It would be an insult to the god to deny his gift of craftsmanship." Bilbo nodded quickly.
"Ah! Some hobbits have something similar, a deep connection with the plants and growing things of the earth, from the goddess Yavanna. She gives some great understanding of her gifts to the world. It is an insult to her to ignore that." Thorin smiled, just a small one.
"Perhaps our people are more alike than we realized."
