Thorin hesitated just beyond the circle of firelight and laughter. He wasn't usually timid about anything that he needed to do. But that was as a leader, as a king or a brother, when many lives hung in the balance. But as himself he didn't know how to work with people. Dwalin had told him, several times since they had set out, that he was incompetent as a normal person.

He walked into the circle, taking a seat next to Balin, who smiled at him before turning back to listen to whatever tale Bofur was telling. Across from Thorin sat Bilbo Baggins, who grinned openly at him for a moment before turning away. His ears seemed a touch red. Had he become sunburned while walking?

The Company was quite a bit more comfortable with each other than at the beginning. It made him glad, especially Dwalin and Nori; he had worried one of them would have killed the other within a week.

… He was fairly sure they were courting. Or simply sleeping together, but he knew that Dwalin was smoking Nori's pipe.

In a way, he was a touch jealous. The brothers 'Ri were all quite a catch, with solid muscle and lustrous hair and beards. Dwalin was a lucky bastard.

Thorin rubbed his chin absently, feeling the shorn hair that had once been a fine beard. He had cut it off, not to allow it to grow back until his people were back in their proper home. It was a sign of dishonor among dwarrows, and the more polite ones didn't look. Dori had trouble looking at him. So did Ori, but he believed that was caused by nervousness, not propriety.

Bilbo didn't seem to look one way or another, but he was a hobbit. None of them, as far as he could tell, even grew beards. He hadn't seen Bilbo shave, at any rate, yet there was never a bit of hair on his chin. Plenty on his feet, though.

He glanced around the rest of the fire, lingering on Bombur. He was an incredibly attractive dwarf; rotund and strong, and with such a long beard! His interest didn't stray past physical, though; if for no other reason than Bombur's wife being a fearsome lass from Dwalin's city guard. Still, his gaze was occasionally drawn back to him, admiring.

The Durin line was an odd one, looks wise. Being taller than most dwarrows, one would think they would end up being rather attractive. However, most of the line had trouble putting on enough weight to have a pleasant form; it seemed to just fall right off.

Thror and Thrain had managed well enough to look good, but Thorin, and now Fili and Kili, seemed cursed to remain rather slim looking dwarrows. Kili had doubly bad luck, having inherited another family propensity for growing a beard late. Thorin had faced similar issues in his youth. He had tried to comfort Kili with this, when he was a touch younger, but the fact that he had cropped his beard didn't help his case. Thorin was sure it would come through soon, but until then… Enough dwarrows had learned what would happen if they called the younger heir to the throne an elf. The Company had refrained thus far and Thorin hoped that would stay the same.

"Uncle?" He turned, his gaze sliding away from Bombur (thankfully close to Bofur, who was still speaking; hopefully no-one had noticed his lapse), to look at Fili, who sat a few feet away.

"You were pulling at your beard again," Fili said quietly, so that only Balin, who was between them, could hear. Thorin scowled, and pulled his hand away from his chin. Dis, in her 'infinite wisdom' (he had his own name for it), had told her sons about his nervous habit before they had left, and warned them to 'distract the moron before he pulls out what's left of his beard.'

"Your mother needs to learn to mind her own business; she's a bit old to keep up the annoying sister routine," he told Fili gruffly. By Fili's expression, he knew that he had likely just managed to sound fond. It was often the case with the lads, though most of the Company couldn't tell the difference.

"Why Uncle! Taking away our mother's only source of entertainment?" Fili gasped, letting his voice raise so that most of the Company was watching them.

"Be a right shame, it would, and then she might set her gaze elsewhere," Kili noted, looking around the fire at the others.

"Maybe Dwalin, they know each other well enough…" Fili suggested, and the two fell into a routine, firing off reasons for each and every member of the Company.

"Or Ori, cause then she could braid his hair!" Ori blushed.

"Or Bifur, they could tell embarrassing stories about their brothers!" Bifur nodded at them both, though whether it was in amusement or agreement was unclear.

"Or Master Baggins! She could just lift him straight up and fuss as she pleased!" Kili crowed, pointing at the surprised hobbit, who blinked at the two of them, obviously bewildered. He glanced at Thorin, who could only shake his head at the two of them.

"Who are you talking about?" He asked, and quickly leaned backwards on his seat by the fire as the other dwarrows turned to stare at him in surprise. Fili quickly started.

"Our lovely mother, haven't you heard of her?" Kili was nodding along, grinning ear to ear.

"Aye, one of the few attractive dwarrows our line has managed to turn out! Lovely beard she has, and a lovely figure to match!" He laughed at the affronted looks he was given, though some, Dwalin especially, were laughing at the look on Bilbo's face.

"Lads! That is your mother you speak of!" Dori admonished, though it was clear by his reddening cheeks that he didn't disagree exactly. Fili nodded at him.

"Of course it is! Who else would know as well as us?" He gestured to Kili, who looked close to falling off his stump, spurts of laughter coming out of his mouth.

"I didn't know female dwarrows grew beards," Bilbo said thoughtfully, tapping his bare chin. Balin glanced at him in surprise, as most of the other dwarrows started a debate on which ladies back in the Blue Mountain were the most attractive. Gloin was especially adamant it was his own wife.

"Didn't you? I suppose you don't see many dwarrows in the Shire," Balin said, and Bilbo nodded, before frowning again.

"What in Mahal's name did Kili mean, one of the few attractive dwarrows in their line?" Thorin looked up at him in surprise, before turning away, pretending to watch the chaos Fili had caused.

"Ah," Balin coughed awkwardly, as Fili offered to challenge Gloin for his wife's honor.

"Well, Master Baggins, dwarrows see a large belly and fine beard as two of the most important physical traits. That is, in making one attractive." Bilbo frowned at him, brows furrowed in confusion. Thorin realized he was watching them both, again, but instead leaned back in his seat, half-closing his eyes to feign disinterest or sleep. Neither of the other two seemed to notice.

"I suppose that makes sense, but…" he hesitated, and finally fell silent. Thorin settled back further, unnerved to find he had started to lean forward to hear Bilbo's answer.

"Are things so different with hobbits?" Balin asked. Fili had actually gotten Gloin to agree to a duel as to which lass back in the Blue Mountains was most beautiful, and the others had gathered to watch.

Bilbo looked thoughtful as he answered.

"Well, no, not exactly. Hobbits would agree that a round belly and good hair are important; though we prefer thick hair on the feet, not the chin!" He added, grinning at Balin, who chuckled. Then he continued.

"But if one were well muscled and had a nice face, a lack of roundness wouldn't be a loss. Some prefer the muscle, in fact; otherwise millers and masons would likely be rather harder to find."

"Which is why," he continued, looking determined, "I found what Kili said so odd. He and Fili would certainly be popular in the Shire." Balin looked a bit taken aback, before his gaze turned sly.

"And what of our leader?" Bilbo squirmed, and his face turned red again. Thorin again had to look away, and hoped it wasn't obvious he was listening to them. Though, as he was seated next to Balin, he doubted he was successful.

"… Him as well, though only if he smiled a bit more. Hobbits prefer pleasant faces." Bilbo sounded a bit surprised by his own daring.

"Uncle can look pleasant if he's had some ale!" Kili called out gleefully, dropping into the seat next to Bilbo, who startled and nearly fell over. Thorin glared at his nephew, who grinned unrepentantly, and threw an arm over Bilbo's shoulder.

"Did I hear you say I'd be a hit in the Shire? Brother! We need to go back! The lovely hobbit lasses and lads find the pair of us a lovely sight!" Fili didn't respond, as he was still fighting with Gloin, but he managed to send a rather filthy wink his brother's way and grinned lecherously.

"Does that mean you think I look fit, Mister Boggins?" Kili asked Bilbo, leaning close to the hobbit. Bilbo wiggled out from under his arm, and pinched him in the side.

"You're barely a tween, Kili. Even if I did, you're much too young," he said in annoyance, while Kili yelped.

"Would that make Uncle more the right age? How old are you, Mister Boggins?" He asked, wincing a bit. Bilbo turned so dark red Thorin worried for his health.

"I'm fifty five, thank you very much." He said, ignoring the first question entirely. Balin looked at him in surprise. Kili gaped.

"Only fifty? Why, you're a mere babe!" Balin looked troubled as well. Before either of them could speak, Bilbo cut them off, gesturing in annoyance.

"Hobbits only live to be a hundred or so, I am perfectly middle aged! I do not want to hear a word about my age, thank you very much!" He scowled, crossing his arms with a huff. Kili giggled, and stood to wander back to the duel that was, surprisingly, still going strong.

Thorin watched his nephew finally lose the fight, and even when he glanced at the brothers Ri and Bombur throughout the rest of the evening, he had no urge to tug on his beard.

He didn't smile, though. Not yet.