Chapter Ten

Hobbit weddings, although taken very seriously, probably seemed quite informal in the eyes of men, elves and maybe even dwarves.
There were no real words declaring love or commitment, those were saved for the privacy afforded from behind closed doors. Instead, the groom would make a wreath of flowers to place upon his intended's head. Every flower had a different meaning, and if Bilbo had never run away with Thorin's Company, he would have been so proper as to have blushed at the sight of Drogo's wreath, filled with such emotion and passion as it was.
Hobbit's, both from Hobbiton and Buckland, where Primula lived and Drogo was soon to move to, gathered in a wide circle around the couple as they completed the placing of the wreath. The ceremony ended with a kiss of acceptance from Primula and a deafening cheer arose from the crowd, before the couple were showered in the petals of every flower found in The Shire.
As the sun began to sink below the horizon, the hobbits moved into The Party Field were garlands of flowers had been hung on every hedge, fence, table and chair. Dozens of lanterns had been strung from the trees and candles placed on every flat surface.
All too soon, the wine began to flow and the music carried the hobbits to their feet.
Bilbo was sat at a table off to the side and he smiled warmly as Drogo and Primula approached him.
"Congratulations, my dear cousins. I am sure you will both be very happy." And Bilbo stood to embrace them both.
"We will be." Primula said with a large smile as she withdrew from the hug. "Wasn't the ceremony just wonderful?"
"It really was." Bilbo agreed earnestly.
"And this wreath!" She exclaimed. "Isn't it just the finest one you have ever lain your eyes upon?"
Before Bilbo had the chance to reply, Drogo clapped a hand to his shoulder. "Ah, cousin, this is truly life. Never have I felt such happiness. If only you could be this happy, I am sure you would not feel inclined to run off again."
Bilbo laughed nervously and picked up his glass, suddenly feeling really rather thirsty.
"I very much think that married life would suit you well." Drogo continued. "Now all we need to do is find you a nice hobbit lass."
Bilbo choked and very nearly spat out his drink. "Oh, um…well-" Bilbo wheezed, trying in vain to clear his airways.
"Perhaps you may even find your future bride tonight, after all it is not only Hobbiton present, but Buckland as well. I certainly found my happiness beyond this village." And he gave his wife a meaningful smile.
Bilbo was still trying, and failing, to form a coherent sentence when Drogo suddenly gripped his arm. "Come, dear cousin. How ever will you manage to find yourself a maiden if you sit alone at this table." And with that Drogo began to drag Bilbo towards the heart of the celebrations, not listening to any one of his protests, weakly thought though they were.
Bilbo found that the rest of the night was akin to his own personal torture as he found himself passed from partner to partner, dancing until he felt as though he couldn't take a single more step. His rescue came in the from of Gandalf, late though he may have been, and Bilbo very nearly hugged the wizard in relief.
Soon, fireworks had the attention of every hobbit present and Bilbo made his escape.
The road was quiet on his trudge back to Bag End, his mind addled with wine and his sight struggling to focus in the dim light.
Because of this, he missed the fact that his garden gate was wide open and it was only as he began to climb the steps to his front door, did he see the solitary figure standing shrouded in shadow. Whomever it was, they stood with their back to Bilbo and hooded-cloak drawn.
The hobbit paused and took a moment to wonder who on Middle Earth could be visiting him at such an impolite hour of the night. "Excuse me? But can I help you?" He asked somewhat nervously, suddenly feeling rather exposed without the weight of Sting at his hip.
The figured turned then and withdrew their hood, exposing the long dark hair that was streaked with grey.
"Master Baggins. I am in need of a burglar."
Bilbo gasped and fell back a step in his shock. "Thorin?"

O-O-O-O-O

"T-Thorin!" Bilbo exclaimed with wide eyes when he realised that the dwarf wasn't in fact a figment of his imagination.
The King took a step towards the hobbit and Bilbo found his heart quickening as he looked into Thorin's eyes for the first time since the King's goodbye - almost close enough to two months ago for it to count as such.
"I had feared that you would not come home." Thorin's voice was low as he took yet another step closer to Bilbo.
"I-I was at my cousin's wedding and I was not expecting company." Thorin stood incredibly close to Bilbo now and the smaller man felt his cheeks heat under the King's penetrating gaze.
"I hope that I am not intruding then?" He asked softly.
"Intru-not at all!" Bilbo was aghast. "You will always be welcome here, Thorin." He insisted earnestly before suddenly throwing his hand up between them. "Wait! How are you even here? You were unconscious last I saw you."
The King gave Bilbo an amused, yet wary smile. "I would have been here sooner had Balin not forcibly insisted that I remain in bed to further recover from my wounds."
Bilbo felt his eyes narrow at that. "Thorin Oakenshield you had better not be telling me that you travelled half way across the world while still suffering the Battle's after effects!"
"I am well enough, Bilbo."
The hobbit fought the urge to grind his teeth, but couldn't help but mutter; "Stubborn dwarves."
Thorin laughed then and Bilbo thought that his heart would stop at the sight.
"Why did you come?" He asked softly.
Bilbo didn't understand the expression that came over the King's face then, but his caused his heart to pound once more, almost leaping into his throat in it's excitement.
Thorin bowed his head for a moment before looking Bilbo directly in the eye. "I needed to see you."
The hobbit swallowed thickly. "Why?" He breathed. "You've only just reclaimed your home."
"Fíli, with Balin's assistance, is more than capable to oversee Erebor in my absence. And after I was told you had returned to The Shire, I was…afraid that I'd never see you again. There is much to say."
"I was planning to return." Bilbo said softly, an unbidden hope rising in his chest.
The King gave him a dry look. "I was told, but I admit that I did not believe you would willingly leave again."
Bilbo looked out over Hobbiton. "As much as I love The Shire and Bag End. It no longer feels like home." He admitted softly and turned at the feel of a hand upon his arm, Thorin's skin so very warm against his own.
"You will always have a home in Erebor, Bilbo. You have done me and mine a great service."
"Oh. Yes, of course." Bilbo felt suddenly very foolish. Foolish for hoping for anything more than friendship when it was so painfully clear that Thorin's appearance was due to nothing more than gratitude.
Bilbo went to take a step away from the dwarf king, but was stopped when Thorin's hand tightened upon his arm.
"Wait. I did not come all of this way merely out of thanks. Bilbo-I…" The King trailed off and briefly closed his eyes before reopening them and pinning the hobbit under the weight of his intense gaze.
Bilbo felt like he couldn't breathe as the King's calloused hand came up to cup his cheek.
Neither one dared to move nor breathe for what seemed like an infinite amount of time.
But then, Thorin lowered his head and pressed his lips to Bilbo's.

To be continued…