Chapter 9 You're here.

Just another day.

Thorin opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. It was beautifully decorated with different gems and semi-precious stones... beautiful ... and… he only just noticed… - oh Mahal how did THAT happen?! - with lots of greenery. It looked very weird there. Must be Thranduil's work…

Oh Mahal save me...

Thorin sat up in bed, not that he wanted to get up, he just didn't want to look at the greenery any longer.

He desperately tried to draw back his hair into something, but it didn't work. He needed to wash his hair and finally rebraid it. He was starting to look unkingly. It was improper.

Actually it was a disaster, since that foolish skirmish with orcs – oh, only Thorin could have such luck as to go for a walk with an elf and meet an orc pack (as if the elf wasn't enough) - everyone had been mothering him since then... Thranduil carried him food and all those terrible flowers and leaves and now… this greenery... Thorin grimaced. Yes he treated the elf much better now, he had to, what with him saving Thorin's life... Though he still didn't like the Elven King much, he didn't know why... There was something about him… Something fake. But he had to pretend, Thranduil saved him – that's why.

But it was just too much. The elf forbade him to have a wash in order not to soak his "wounds" (he dramatically announced that he was a healer and everyone had to listen to him, and Thorin had wished for a bath for almost a week since then) – THAT was really too much. Today Thorin decided that nothing would stop him from going to his gorgeous Royal Baths.

He got out of bed, took a towel and his sword. If he had to fight his way to the Baths through the elf's stupidity he would gladly do it.

Luckily everyone was still asleep and he reached the Baths without any problem. Kili passed him by though, he obviously was in a hurry, and didn't even mock him and his unbraided hair… He just smiled at his uncle, winked and went his own way. That was odd, but not unpleasant. Finally his nephews learned some manners and some respect. With these pleasant thoughts Thorin reached the Baths. And stopped. The door was opened a little and there were muddy footprints all around, there was actually so much mud that the footprints couldn't be seen - just spread mud. Lots of spread mud.

Who could make such a mess... There was someone in the Baths' hall, and he or she was covered in mud. That was all Thorin could deduce.

"Who is there?" The dwarf king asked unsheathing the sword. And after a moment he heard what he simply couldn't hear, because how… just… how…

"No need for a sword here, Thorin, it's only me." spoke a quiet voice. Oh that voice. Thorin would recognize it anywhere, and he was ready to hear it anywhere but... in his Baths? He was dreaming. It couldn't be true.

Mud completely forgotten, he burst into the Baths' hall and stopped in front of the person he wished to see for so long. He couldn't believe it.

"Burglar?" he finally managed to say.

"Hello, Thorin" Bilbo was smiling gently.

Thorin just stared. Bilbo shifted under his gaze but was still smiling.

"Are you still angry with me for that Arkenstone affair?" The hobbit asked mockingly nodding towards the sword.

"Oh… No…" Thorin sheathed his sword back hastily. "Am I dreaming?" he asked, never taking his eyes off Bilbo's face.

"No, I don't think so."

"Am I mad then?"

Bilbo frowned.

"Not sure..." he answered hesitantly. What's wrong?

"You're here then?"

"Yes, I guess I am."

"You're here." Thorin strode to Bilbo and grabbed him, holding him close. "You've come to me, my burglar…" he murmured. "I can't believe you're here... You've come back to me..."

Bilbo was absolutely red, shocked and confused. He was hugging Thorin... But he couldn't be so lucky. It was impossible. Thorin couldn't be that fond of him. So there was only one option left. Did Thorin lose his mind while Bilbo was away? He looked strange. He was pale. His beautiful hair - greasy and unbraided. He behaved very, very strangely.

"Um… Thorin… I'm… happy to see you… too… but…" Bilbo stuttered.

"You're not going anywhere, hobbit." The dwarf interrupted him stepping back a little - only to see the halfling's face again. "You're staying. You're staying forever. You understand? Here in Erebor forever. With me, forever." He announced somewhat regally but agitatedly, hands gripping Bilbo's shoulders.

Fine, that was it, Thorin definitely was out of his mind, it must be that crazy elf's fault – either his craziness was contagious, or he did something to Thorin, Bilbo thought.

"Yes, Thorin, I'm staying, all right? Calm down, my friend." He said frowning deeper, but seeing Thorin's hurt expression he thought for a bit, and added cautiously. "Um… My king?"

A bit much. At this moment Thorin's eyes watered and he fell upon Bilbo's neck. "Oh, Bilbo, my hobbit…" was all he managed to whisper.

The situation was critical, thought Bilbo hugging Thorin back and gently stroking his hair. Thorin needed help. And then he remembered… The skirmish! Did Thorin hit his head?!

"Thorin," Bilbo tried to ask, and it was not a simple task, he was almost buried in Thorin's huge mane of hair and hugged so tightly - he could barely breathe. Though it felt good. So good… And Thorin smelled so Thorin… Bilbo needed to distract himself.

"Thorin! I was told you were injured in a skirmish, tell me, what happened to you..."

"No, Halfling, not now... I don't want to talk about anything that involves The Elf now." answered the dwarf starting to stroke the hobbit's curly hair in return.

The elf... Bilbo smiled. He wouldn't call his lover The Elf… And if Thorin didn't want to talk about him… so there was nothing between them, and perhaps Bilbo still would have a chance... when Thorin recovered from this strange unTHORINish madness, of course... after that Bilbo could try and court him somehow…

Meanwhile in the Royal Guest Chambers.

Thranduil was lying on his huge bed, which was a little too empty to his taste. He was sleeping lightly with slices of cucumber all over his face and neck, because everyone knows that the secret of good looks lies is good sleep and facial care. It was still very early and he was not very happy when he heard a loud knock at his door.

He decided to ignore it… at first… but what if it was Thorin… He groaned and got up. Remembering that he still had cucumbers all over his face he decided to ask who it was. And how was he surprised to hear the voice of his own son behind the door. He immediately opened it.

"Legolas my heart, what are you doing here?"

"Father, we need to talk." Legolas answered grimacing and sighing at the sight of cucumbers...

"Let's talk, if we need…" sighed Thranduil, letting his son enter his chamber. "But it is early, and I was hoping to sleep a few more hours, my skin needs some more relaxation…"

"Your precious skin and you've had far too much relaxation, father, don't you think?" Legolas blurted out without thinking. And it was a bad idea… His father was a very short-tempered elf after all.

"How dare you talk to YOU FATHER AND YOUR KING like that?!" stormed Thranduil. And truly, how dared he? Thranduil was a king, he could do whatever he wanted.

"Father," Legolas sighed and hugged his furious father. "Let's go home, my dear father, mmm? I've come to take you home, we need you there. This stupid idea…"

"Stupid idea?!" Thranduil pushed his son away. Now he was absolutely enraged. "STUPID IDEA?! Can't you see how much I've already done? I'm very clever, and that is a very clever idea, like all the ideas of mine! By the way my orc plan worked perfectly, you can't disagree it was very clever…"

"WHAT?" exclaimed Legolas. "Your what?! Father! How could you?! I thought something was wrong with that skirmish, when I heard that no one was in danger except for King Thorin and how nobly you saved him… Father! How could you? He could have been killed!" Legolas almost shouted.

"Everything was under control, Legolas, who do you think I am - an amateur? I hired the most trustworthy orcs…"

"Trustworthy orcs?! Do you understand what you're saying?"

"Legolas! Don't you forget that I'm still your father and your king. And you must obey my decisions, and hold your tongue!" snapped out the King.

But after a few moments he softened and said.

"Legolas, my dear son, please understand me. I'm a footstep away from the throne of Erebor! We are on very good terms with Thorin now. I'm courting him. He likes me already I can see it. And he's very hot himself, I like him, and I want him - for myself. No one will steal him from me."

He smiled sweetly and started removing cucumbers from his face.

"And you, Legolas," he added. "had better watch and learn, when the time comes that you want some dwarf pet for yourself, you'll find my experience extremely useful..."

Legolas rolled his eyes and fell facedown onto his father's bed.