There was a great celebration the night after the Master officially welcomed the dwarves to Lake-town. Men and dwarves alike sang and drank and feasted (as much as could be allowed, given the scarce conditions of the oncoming winter).

They were moved from Bard's house to the town's most prestigious inn, which was really only prestigious in comparison to the rest of the buildings on the lake. Still, all parties involved seemed grateful for the arrangement, as the feeling of enmity between Bard and the dwarves seemed only to grow.

Dori had a mug of ale but cut himself off after that, too busy chasing after Nori (who was stealing silverware) and Ori (who was stealing food) to bother with getting drunk himself. In fact most of the dwarves were feeling a bit tipsy. Their raucous group had gathered on the top floor for their own private celebration, and many flagons of ale and mead and wine were passed around.

Of course Dori hadn't thought to keep an eye on the hobbit. Sure, it had been mentioned that hobbits liked parties but he never in his wildest imaginings thought he'd see Bilbo Baggins climbing clumsily onto a table and bursting into song.

"The King beneath the mountains,

The King of carven stone,

The lord of silver fountains

Shall come into his own.

His crown shall be upholden,

His harp shall be restrung,

His halls shall echo golden

To songs of yore re-sung."

Everyone stared, startled out of their festivities by the sheer absurdity of it. Of course Bilbo's voice was uninhibited, liquid silver (although he slurred a few words) but to see him standing atop a table, belting out the lake people's song at the top of his little lungs…

"That was dedicated from the people of Lake-town to you, Thorin Oakenshield" he said once he'd finished the song. "Through me, Bilbo Baggins."

Kili and Fili snorted under their breath, but to their credit they tried to hide it behind their mugs. Some of the other dwarves, however, were not so considerate. Nori and Gloin in particular could not control their laughter and leaned on each other for support.

"C'mon, Master Baggins, let us help you down," Fili said, his voice quavering with barely suppressed amusement. Then he and his brother hooked their arms under Bilbo's and carried him from the table.

"Whoa, hey, you-" Bilbo jabbed his finger into Kili's chest- "should be in bed resting. All you dwarves are annoyingly…maddeningly…hair-pullingly stubborn and I…if I were an elf, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't invite you to dinner."

"That's alright, we wouldn't want to go anyway," Fili said, catching the hobbit as he wavered.

"Yeah, that's right, because…you guys are only interested in destroying hobbit-hic!-holes."

"Mahal, he's blitzed," Kili murmured to Dori as the little fellow began to hiccup. "I didn't think hobbits got drunk."

"Well…these lake-men drink strong brews. I imagine he's not used to it, and he's so tiny it really wouldn't take much anyway."

"He's not going to be happy in the morning," Kili stated and Dori shook his head. No, the hobbit certainly would not be happy in the morning, not only with the way he was carrying on now, but with the inevitable pounding in his head and roiling in his stomach.

I should gather up some helpful teas tonight, he thought to himself. I believe I have several that are good for a hangover.

By that point, the hobbit had tugged himself out of Fili's grip and made his way over to Thorin, who raised an eyebrow expectantly. His expression was perfectly smooth, but Dori could see well enough the mischief warming his eyes.

"Well, Master Hobbit?" he said. "Is there something on your mind?"

"Thorin. I have something I want to say to you," Bilbo declared, glaring determinedly at the dwarf king.

"Well, don't hold back."

"I don't know if you know this…" Bilbo paused to peer at Thorin through narrowed eyes, swaying where he stood. "…but when I first met you, I thought you were an absolute prat."

There were several gasps of horror as everyone in the room tensed and prepared to throw themselves between the king and the hobbit.

To everyone's surprise, however, Thorin simply cocked his head and said, "Fair enough, halfling, when I first met you, I thought you were a dainty, insolent elf-lover."

Bilbo narrowed his eyes even further, like he couldn't believe anyone could think that of him.

"But it's alright because misconceptions were made to be broken."

"Actually, sometimes I still think you can be kind of a- hic!- prat."

There was a moment of silence in which Thorin stared at the hobbit, who didn't seem to think he was begin an insolent elf-lover at all. Dori's heart pounded in his chest as all of them anxiously awaited Thorin's response. And then suddenly the dwarf king bowed his head and began shaking with violent tremors. It took everyone a moment to realize that the convulsions were laughter.

"Then," he said once he could speak again, "let me formally apologize. Master Baggins, I am sorry for being a prat and for thinking of you as nothing more than a dainty, insolent elf-lover."

Bilbo waved away his apology, sloshing mead out of a mug that was much too big for him. "No, no need for- hic!- sorry's. I know you're only a prat because you have to look out for the rest of us. And also I think there might be a dragon involved. But you are also the- hic!- bravest person I've ever known and even though I'm not a- hic!- dwarf, I am proud to call you my king."

And then they were all witness to Thorin's expression, which softened with undisguised affection and gratitude and which he generally only saved for his nephews. And Dori couldn't help but feel moved by the sight. The hobbit seemed completely oblivious as he patted Thorin's shoulder and shuffled away, muttering something about taking a quick cat nap.

In fact when he looked back years later, Dori realized that Bilbo had always been oblivious to the effect he'd had on the Company. There was a reason Gandalf had chosen Master Baggins, and not just he was small and sneaky and quite a bit braver than he looked. There was a magnetism about him, a quieter charisma than that of their leader but just as powerful. If the Company had made him stronger by making him tough, then he had made them stronger through the greatest magic trick of all. Because of him they were a little bit softer, a little bit kinder, and Dori blessed the wizard who coerced the little fellow into running after them so long ago.

The following morning, Dori was the first one up. He busied himself with brewing tea for the other dwarves, who were slow to rise and scowled at the sun as though it had personally aggrieved them.

Bilbo was the last to wake, and when he did everyone forgot their own discomfort and started grinning.

"Feeling alright there, Master Boggins?" Kili teased as the hobbit stumbled into the kitchen. His hair was a wayward mess and the clothes he'd worn the night before were rumpled in such a way that he looked even smaller than ever. Dori shook his head and clucked sympathetically.

"You look a bit uncomfortable, laddie," Dwalin said. "Rough night?"

Everyone laughed. Bilbo groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

"Is the noise really necessary?" he croaked. "I feel like I've been trampled by a pack of wargs."

"Aye. It's called a hangover," Dwalin said.

Bilbo glared at him and swung around to retort, but the motion made his face pinch with pain and he said nothing.

Dori patted him lightly on the shoulder. "Drink this, Mister Baggins. It will help," he said and handed the poor bleary mite a cup of his strongest brew.

"Thanks," he rasped. After taking a tentative sip he drank it quite greedily, much to Dori's satisfaction.

The halfling had gone through three cups and was working on his fourth when Thorin came over.

"How are you feeling?" he rumbled quietly. Dori pretended to be busy with something else, unable to ignore the unusual gentleness in the king's voice.

"Better, thanks to Dori's tea," Bilbo admitted. "Um…Thorin? I don't really, uh, remember last night. Did I…was I terribly obnoxious?"

"Master Baggins, you are never obnoxious. But you were quite entertaining."

Dori saw Bilbo's cheeks redden from the corner of his eye.

"Oh, well, as long as you all got a nice laugh out of it."

"Don't worry, we did," Fili quipped and Thorin chuckled.

"Relax and drink your tea. It won't be long before we leave for the mountain."

Dori took care of him for the rest of the day, brewing tea and forcing him to eat. Bilbo took everyone's snickering in stride but he could not for the life of him figure out why they had started calling him elf-lover.

"As if it's some kind of insult," Bilbo muttered as Dori poured him another cup of tea.

Dori smiled fondly. "Don't worry, Mister Baggins," he said. "When it comes to you, it's anything but an insult."

A/N: Alright, all you lovely readers. I just wanted to give you fair warning that after this chapter, things are going to get a bit darker. I mean, of course, right? Erebor, dragon-sickness, all that... Still, I hope I didn't just turn some of you away :/ Anyway, I should have the rest of the story up today so keep a lookout!