A/N: I am trying to post more often. Thank you for your patience. Please enjoy the next chapter and see the following warning:

Warning: Mentions of PTSD-esque dreams in the last section of this chapter starting with the words "Bilbo quite literally stumbled over..." It is after the third break in the chapter. Please read accordingly.

Chapter 10

Bilbo yawned behind his hand the moment Balin turned away to retrieve a slate and chalk for him. He needed to be going to bed earlier. Well, to sleep at least. He wasn't a young tween anymore and the last few nights, as late as it was when he finally went to sleep, were starting to take a toll on him. It was difficult to concentrate enough on his khuzdul lessons to really understand the minutia of the language.

"Am I boring you, Your Highness?" Balin asked mildly without turning around from his search.

Bilbo instinctively pulled his hands off the table in front of him, feeling all too much like a naughty fauntling caught daydreaming by the teacher during class and was now in danger of having his knuckles rapped by a ruler or other wooden implement. "Now don't you start that nonsense," he griped in order to try to dispel the feeling.

Balin turned back to Bilbo, a benign smile showing beneath his beard as he waited for a proper answer.

Bilbo ducked his head a little. "Just a little tired. Won't happen again."

"Good," Balin said and took his seat. He handed over the slate and chalk he'd found and waited for Bilbo to set them how he liked. Balin picked up his own chalk and wrote a rune onto his slate.

The door behind Bilbo opened and Thorin stepped inside.

"Balin, I need to borrow Bilbo for a few moments," he said. Bilbo's eyebrows rose. Thorin had yet to interrupt any of his time spent learning about dwarrow and their language and had gone as far as to ask the rest of the Company not to interrupt as well.

Balin nodded at Bilbo when he glanced back at his main instructor. He set aside his materials and went over to Thorin.

"Hello," Bilbo greeted once they were out in the hall. A quick glance showed that no one was nearby other than Dwalin, and perhaps Nori who liked to lurk in all sorts of shadows at inconvenient moments. Bilbo stretched up onto his toes to place a kiss on Thorin's lips, smiling when Thorin placed a hand on his hip and pulled him closer before tilting his head so their foreheads pressed gently together.

"Hello Ghivashel," Thorin said with a fond smile and then shifted back. He held a book out to Bilbo. "Could you look at this for me?"

A bit surprised, Bilbo took the book and opened. "Where in Yavanna's name did you find this?" he asked with a grin, a small chuckle escaping him.

"Ori found it in the library. You know it then?"

Bilbo chuckled. "I can't say I've read it but I am somewhat familiar with the author." He pointed to the flowing script naming the writer.

"You know of this Isengrim II?"

"He was the tenth Thain of the Shire," Bilbo told him and ran his fingers across the familiar hobbit style lettering with its loops and curves and dots, "and my fourth-great-grandfather on my mother's side. But how did it end up in Erebor of all places?"

"I'll have Ori check the records of how the book was acquired."

Bilbo held the book out to return it to Thorin. "Was there something in particular about the book?" he asked. "It's not like you to ask something that simple unless you have another reason."

"Ori was curious about a few things it claims about hobbits." Thorin admitted. "Would you mind looking at two passages in particular and telling us if it is true or not?" At Bilbo's nod, Thorin reached over and opened the book to the first marked pages.

Bilbo read silently, his smile widening into an amused grin. "This old tale," he said finally and looked up at Thorin. "That's all it is. An old wives' tale to explain away a Took's need for a bit of adventure and fun. I've no more faerie blood than you."

Something inside Thorin eased the slightest bit. He turned the pages of the book to keep Bilbo from seeing anything of the sort. Even if his husband did have faerie ancestry, Thorin would still love him. Bilbo was his One after all. Nothing would ever change that. Knowing the tale wasn't true just took away some possible complications with his council if they ever found out. "This was the other part that had Ori curious," Thorin said once he found the pages detailing hobbit eating habits.

Bilbo read and his face took on an expression Thorin couldn't quite describe. Almost awkward, sheepish, and defensive all at once. "Ah, yes, well," Bilbo cleared his throat. "Numbers are often, um, exaggerated. Shouldn't believe everything you read. Who wrote this again?" He flipped to the beginning of the book, presumably to search for an author's name.

"So it's not true?" Thorin asked as he placed his hand on the book and gently pushing it down from where Bilbo had pulled it close to his face. "Hobbits don't eat this much?"

Bilbo shifted his weight from his right foot to his left and back again as he licked his lips. Thorin's eyes narrowed. "Bilbo?"

"Most of us only eat six meals regularly," he finally admitted, scowling at the pages. "Sometimes we indulge in a midnight snack or a late supper to make the seventh."

"Mahal, forgive me, I've been starving my One," Thorin groaned. "Why didn't you tell us you needed more to eat?"

"If I recall correctly, I did tell you all that I eat six meals a day but I was promptly ignored and told how much we could eat given our rations along the journey," Bilbo huffed, irritated. "And you are most certainly not starving me," he added. "Not anymore anyway."

"But you have lost a great deal of weight from the day we met," Thorin said, his hand coming to rest on Bilbo's stomach. There was very little difference between the bottom of his ribcage and his hips, almost no pudge at all, something that was fairly normal on a dwarf but was apparently not for a hobbit.

"Traveling will do that to anyone," Bilbo retorted but still refused to meet Thorin's eye.

"Have you looked at Bombur lately?" Thorin asked, arching an eyebrow.

Bilbo's nose wrinkled and twitched in distress. "I'm fine, Thorin. I don't deserve any more food than any other person in this mountain. I will not take more than my share."

"I'll not watch you waste away when we have the means for you to eat properly." Thorin pulled Bilbo close, dropping his head enough to rest their foreheads together. "I've watched too many of my people go hungry and starve. You do not need to, not here. Everyone should be able to maintain a healthy weight in this mountain."

Bilbo stopped himself from arguing further. Thorin had told him of the hardship his people had seen, the deaths, the levels they had to stoop to in order to merely survive. Nori was a prime example. A talented embroiderer, younger brother of one of Ered Luin's best weavers, and he'd had to give up his craft and resort to thieving in order to provide enough food for young Ori to not go hungry. He remembered how quickly the Company had descended upon his pantry, stripping it bare in what felt like a matter of minutes.

And Fili and Kili were so thin compared to the others. Yes, they were young with metabolisms that burned off food faster than even a hobbit could consume them, but they should still have more substance to them. Royal though they were, even they showed signs of being underfed as dwarflings.

Bilbo sighed and stepped back in Thorin's grip, relenting. "All right," he said. "I'll eat more often but my portions should be smaller. Hobbits like to indulge, but we typically eat six smaller meals a day instead of the two or three larger ones you dwarrow and the Men eat. Understand?"

Thorin relaxed slightly. "I'll tell Bombur. Will you allow Oin to monitor you? Make sure you regain the weight in a healthy manner?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Bilbo said, waving a hand absently. "If it will make you feel better."

Thorin's answering smile was saturated in relief. "Thank you, Givashel," he said. "Is there anything else we are depriving you of?"

"Sunlight," Bilbo blurted before he could think better of it and winced. The last thing he needed to do was add more troubles to Thorin's already growing list.

Instead of the confused look Bilbo expected, Thorin smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I had forgotten how much you enjoy the light. Is there more to it than just seeing the sun?"

Bilbo shook his head. "Hobbits need sunlight or we tend to feel depressed or anxious. My mother would become weepy when the clouds hid the sun too long in the winter. You really don't need to do anything Thorin. I'll just make sure I visit the front gates or the secret door more often."

Plans already started forming in Thorin's mind. He'd have to talk to Bofur about it. "I'll go with you outside as soon as the storm abates and the clouds move on," he promised.

He was rewarded with a smile. "I'd like that," Bilbo said and stood on his toes to kiss Thorin's cheek.

Thorin returned the kiss with one a bit more enthusiastic before tucking the book under his arm. "I think I will take the liberty of reading through your ancestor's work, see what other glaring differences there are between dwarrow and hobbits."

Bilbo snorted. "You'll need more than just that one book to learn it all," he said. "That is a very brief overview of hobbits. I wonder why it was written in the first place."

"Perhaps we will find the answer to that when Ori finds the information pertaining to how it became a part of our library." Thorin bent and kissed Bilbo one more time, only leaning back when Dwalin cleared his throat loudly, announcing the imminent approach of someone else. Grumbling under his breath, Thorin bumped foreheads with Bilbo one last time before straightening. "I'll see you this evening?" he asked.

"I'll expect to see you at dinner," Bilbo promised.

"Afternoon tea," Bilbo sighed happily and sat down in the armchair in his room, a small plate of bread, cheese, and ham sitting on the table next to him. He held his teacup and saucer in hand, taking careful sips as he warmed his feet by the fire. He was starting to understand why dwarrow wore boots everywhere. The stone floors inside the mountain were cold and even his thick-soled hobbit feet weren't entirely impervious to the low temperatures. He was just starting to feel the heat trickling into his toes when there was a knock on the door.

"Now who could that be?" he wondered. He set his teacup aside with a huff and went to answer the door.

Kili grinned at him as soon as the door was open. "Uncle Bilbo!" he crowed happily.

"Hello Kili," Bilbo said and stepped aside. "Come inside and join me for some tea, won't you?" He tried to hide his delight at being referred to as "Uncle Bilbo." It was the first time he could think of that either of the two princes had referred to him as such. For some reason, it warmed him in a way his tea never could.

"Thanks!" Kili said and went over to the armchairs by the fire, sitting in the one Thorin usually used. He accepted the freshly poured cup of tea Bilbo handed him and took a sip as Bilbo sat.

"What can I do for you?" Bilbo asked.

"Can't I just spend time with my favorite hobbit?" Kili asked.

"You could," Bilbo said with a nod, "but I know you better than that. You are too like your uncle and you don't typically use your manners when you're just here for a social visit."

Kili ducked his head, red flooding his cheeks. "All right. That's true," he said. He fiddled with the teacup for a moment, staring into the reddish liquid before he looked up at Bilbo with a sheepish smile. "I was hoping you could help me with something."

"That would depend on what you need help with," Bilbo said and picked up some of the bread, motioning for Kili to help himself to the food as well.

"You can't tell Uncle Thorin what I'm about to ask," Kili said. "He'll be unhappy with me if you do."

Bilbo's eyebrows rose. "Well now," he said. "You can't start a conversation that way and expect me not to wonder at what I'm agreeing to. What is it?"

Kili set his teacup on the table and rubbed his hands together nervously. "Would you teach me to speak Sindarin?"

"I see," Bilbo said with a smile. "I assume you want to be able to talk to Tauriel in her native tongue. Why not ask her to teach you?"

"I'd like to surprise her," Kili admitted. "Will you help me?"

Bilbo patted Kili's hand. "Of course I will. Get a slate and chalk from the desk and we'll get started. You can help me with my khuzdul at the same time."

"What happened to you?" Thorin asked the next day when the spymaster met him in the halls near his rooms.

"Doing my job," Nori groused and rubbed at a cut on his cheek, wincing when he bumped his blackened eye. "Which is also why I'm here."

Thorin stopped in his tracks. "What has happened?"

Nori jerked his head toward a doorway to their side. Thorin took in the doorway, swallowed, and nodded. When Nori tried opening the door, it didn't budge and Thorin breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't ready to enter those rooms quite yet. Instead, he led the way further down the hall to another set of rooms he'd been thinking of having cleaned soon. Their doors were unlocked, the rooms untouched other than the footprints Thorin had left in the entry's dust a few weeks prior in his explorations of the royal wing.

Nori closed the door behind them and produced a candle from somewhere on his person, lighting it carefully with a match. He set the dark chamberstick on a shelf near the doorway, freeing his hands. "I left the Captain a present yesterday afternoon. Not sure if it survived more than a few hours though."

"Nori, what did-"

"He tried to kill Bilbo."

Thorin froze, blood pounding in his ears and an old anger, one he'd thought he'd let go of decades ago when he'd finally come to terms with Frerin's and Thror's deaths, seared through his veins. His stomach dropped heavily, seemingly low enough that he would find it in his boot but somehow still staying in his torso. "Who?" Thorin growled. "Where is he?"

"Leave the sword where it is, Thorin," Nori said evenly, leaning against the door casually. Thorin snarled in response, his hand on Orcrist's hilt, the blade half drawn. "Dwalin has him. He's not going anywhere except maybe back to Mahal where he will be judged."

Thorin dragged air into his lungs, trying to regain control of the fury threatening to blind him. "Injured?" he asked, latching onto details. "How?"

"By his own hand," Nori admitted grimly, a frown tugging at his mouth. "I tried to keep him from succeeding. Only just managed to keep him from hitting his heart but there's nothing that'll save him now. Not unless he's as lucky as you and the lads were."

"If he survives, he'll wish he weren't by the time I've finished with him," Thorin snapped. "Tell me what happened."

"I caught a whiff of an attempt early yesterday morning. No, I'll not be telling you my source. Less that know the better. Just know it's reliable. They didn't know when the assassin would strike or where, just that it would be that day. So I shadowed Bilbo. He went down to the kitchens to talk to Bombur about something or other in the afternoon. Balin made sure Bombur was aware Bilbo was there when he left back to take care of paperwork. It wasn't long until our would-be assassin showed up. Saw him slinking around the halls, trying too hard to look casual. I tried to take him clean and quiet but the bugger was fast, slipped free of me. Made a bit of noise in the hall, probably hoping to draw attention. I gave Bombur a signal though, and he made sure to make his own din. Thing of beauty, the timing of those dropped pans. Made quite the bang. Caught the assassin's attention too. I managed to grab him again, more securely but he managed to put a knife in his chest. Only missed his throat because I hit his arm."

"And Bilbo?" Thorin asked, his stomach shifting back into its rightful place.

"None the wiser anything even happened, I believe. Head back to him. Spend some time with him. I'll check in with Dwalin and then let you know if we've learned anything else."

Thorin heaved a sigh of relief. "Well done, Nori."

They headed back into the hallway where Thorin stopped. "We need to find a way to keep him safer," he said.

"Good luck with that," Nori said with a snort. "The lad's too bent on being useful. He ranges all over the mountain where he thinks he's needed. Needs a project, he does, or he'll always be out and about."

"A project," Thorin echoed, his eyes going to the door they'd just walked through, a former, half-formed idea taking clearer shape. "I'll take care of it."

"I'll hunt Bilbo down and shadow him around once I've finished with Dwalin if you like," Nori said.

Thorin shook his head. "I'd rather you continued your work. You're more valuable in the field than being a bodyguard. Besides, Bilbo won't be leaving the royal wing much if I can manage it."

Nori smirked. "You've had a thought on that already, haven't you?"

Thorin nodded once and turned back towards his rooms. Dwalin caught up to him. "Nori said he left an assassin in your cells. Did you manage to extract any information?"

Dwalin shook his head. "Mostly dead by the time he was brought in to us. He wouldn't give us a name of anyone else that may have been involved, just that a noble dwarrowdam deserved to sit at your side."

"Find out who they were and tell Nori. Perhaps he can find out more."

"I'll do that," Dwalin said.

"Do it now," Thorin ordered. "Cancel all council meetings until further notice. I won't be leaving my rooms until noon at the earliest. Tell your brother Bilbo won't be leaving either."

"Aye," Dwalin said. "I'll set a guard outside your door too. Try not to scar them with too much noise."

Thorin refused to respond as he entered his rooms.

"Did you forget something?" Bilbo asked when he saw Thorin. He squeaked when Thorin wrapped him in a hug and pressed his lips to Bilbo's.

"I changed my mind," Thorin said. "I'm going back to bed and spending time with my husband. I'm tired of listening to my council talk themselves in circles and complain about my marriage." He kicked his boots off without releasing Bilbo.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Bilbo asked even as he helped Thorin slide the heavy, furred surcoat off his shoulders. He moved to pick it up and place it over a chair but Thorin drew him away, very intent on the bed in the next room.

"I know it's a perfectly good idea. Dwalin and Balin will handle them."

"Well that's a relief," Bilbo said with a smile and let Thorin pull him along. They tumbled together onto the bed, still clothed. Thorin struggled with the blankets briefly until he managed to pull them over them both. He curled around Bilbo and pressed a kiss to his forehead, a sigh rumbling out of him.

"Is everything all right?" Bilbo asked, one hand rubbing up and down Thorin's side absently.

"Hmm? Yes," Thorin said, shifting his shoulders a little and settling deeper into their bed. "I need some time away from my council as all. I think I'll inform them that unless they have something that really needs discussion, no further meetings will be held. My time can be spent in more productive areas."

"Like lazing about in bed all day with your husband?" Bilbo asked with a smirk.

"Yes," Thorin said and kissed Bilbo firmly.

They lay together for a while, enjoying each other's company in the quiet of their rooms. After a while, Thorin pressed a kiss to Bilbo's hair. "I was wondering if you would help me with a project," he said.

Bilbo jerked violently as he came fully awake, apparently having fallen into a doze while they rested. "What was that?" he asked, rubbing a hand down his face as if to banish the exhaustion. Thorin repeated the request and Bilbo nodded. "I'll do what I'm able."

"There are rooms in this hallway for the rest of the royal family. More rooms than there is family actually. Some meant entirely for individuals like these were once meant solely for me. Others were meant for families though they haven't been used since before Thror was king. Would you mind cleaning a set of them for Dis, Fili, and Kili? I'll enlist more of the Company of course, but I would feel more at ease if you were to head the project."

"You want me to prepare rooms for your sister, the princess, and her sons? What makes you think I'm anywhere near the right person to do that?"

"I can't think of anyone I would trust more to make sure those rooms are thoroughly cleaned for Dis's arrival. She can be rather fussy about that sort of thing."

"Ah, I see," Bilbo said nodding. "You're taking advantage of my natural inclination to have everything neat and tidy, aren't you?"

"Perhaps," Thorin said, fighting the smirk that tugged at his lips.

Bilbo jabbed an elbow into his stomach and he groaned. "Glad to know I'm good for something," he grumbled and started to climb out of the bed.

Thorin wound his arm tighter around Bilbo and pulled him back. "Where do you think you're off to, Master Burglar?"

Bilbo huffed and struggled a bit, trying to squirm his way free. "No time like the present to get started," he said. "Come on. You can give me a hand." He slipped free by ducking low out from beneath Thorin's easy reach. He stood up from the bed and straightened his rumpled waistcoat the best he could and waited for Thorin to follow.

With a groan, Thorin got up went to retrieve his boots. "You take the enjoyment out of a nice day of leisure," he growled as he tightened the straps that held them to his feet. He winced a bit as it constricted around his foot. It had been aching since the storm had blown in and continued to do so as the snow continued to drive against the mountain. If it didn't stop, he'd have to consider going back to Oin to make sure he hadn't reinjured it.

"I can't even fathom what it would be like to be asked to work while enjoying a nice midmorning nap with one's husband," Bilbo retorted, giving Thorin a deadpan stare. "It boggles my mind trying to think why that would be upsetting in the least."

"Point taken," Thorin said. "I did not mean for you to start work immediately," he added and grabbed a lantern and lit it before they left their rooms. He led them down the hallway, the guard Dwalin had left in his place tailing behind them.

"I'd prefer to see what I'm dealing with this morning so I can spend the rest of the day finding supplies," Bilbo said. "That way, I'll be ready to start first thing in the morning tomorrow."

"I see," Thorin said and pushed the door to the rooms open. He held the lantern high to display it more fully.

Bilbo looked around, examining the space. He sighed heavily. "I don't know why I hoped it would be better than the condition we'd found yours in," he said and then shook himself as if to clear his mind of despair. "No matter. Help me get some more light in here and we'll get started. I assume you want this to be a surprise for the boys?"

"If at all possible," Thorin said. "They've worked hard and continue to do so. They deserve a reward."

Bilbo quite literally stumbled over Fili that night in the kitchens, having headed down there for a cup of tea.

"Fili, what are you doing here at this time of night?" Bilbo asked, rubbing his shin where he'd accidentally knocked it on the dwarf's outstretched leg.

"Can't sleep," Fili said with a grimace. He shifted his leg back towards him. "Bombur told me earlier that we have enough apples that we could take an extra here and there as long as we didn't make a habit of it." He held up a piece of the red fruit before twiddling with the stem, rotating the apple around and around until it broke.

Bilbo gave Fili a half smile. "I couldn't either," he admitted. "Nightmares." Het set about making his tea.

Fili sighed behind him. "Battle dreams can take some time to get used to," he said. "I don't know how dwarrow like Dwalin and Uncle do it. If I'd seen as much as them, I think I'd never be able to sleep again."

Once he had the kettle settled over the fire, Bilbo came to sit next to Fili, plucking an apple from the bowl on the table and polishing it on his sleeve briefly. He didn't question Fili's knowing what type of nightmare had woken him. "Is that what dwarrow call them? The dreams about being caught in a battle you've lived through but strange things are different?"

Fili nodded. "What's different about yours? The people involved?" he asked.

"Sometimes," Bilbo said with a shrug. "The one that woke me tonight was in the Shire and Lobelia Bracegirlde was there, fighting alongside dwarrow, elves, and men alike, whacking orcs with her ridiculous umbrella. Surprisingly effective actually." He laced his fingers across his stomach and leaned back against the table, staring into the fire as Fili did. "And then it changed. Sort of warping around the edges and suddenly my parents were there and it was snowing and my father was being ripped apart by a warg that was the size of a wolf and Mother was screaming at me to get back inside but the door was burning and Smaug was climbing over the top of Bag End and I couldn't find Sting and the air was so thick with smoke and Thorin was-"

"Come out of it, Bilbo." Fili snapped his fingers in front of Bilbo's face and the hobbit jerked, startling violently enough he almost fell off the wooden bench they shared.

"Thank you," Bilbo said and took a deep, shuddering breath. "I don't know as I'll ever get used to those." He dragged a hand down his face.

"You will, in time, or so I'm told. Most do at least. Or so Dwalin told me."

"You know you can always talk to me about these things," Bilbo said after a few moments of silence stretched between them. He stood to brew the tea, making a spare cup for Fili, just in case he wanted some.

"I know and I appreciate it," Fili said. He accepted the teacup Bilbo handed him but didn't drink any right away, just warming his fingers around it as he stared at the fire. "Kili doesn't have battle dreams," he said after Bilbo had slowly sipped half of his tea. "We share just about everything, but this one thing. He tries hard to understand, does what he can, wakes me from them when he hears me."

Bilbo didn't respond, just sat quietly and listened as Fili continued.

"I can tell him almost anything about the dreams. About the ones where I wither and die alone in Thranduil's dungeons, that I don't wake up after being thrown from the tower on Raven Hill, that I watch our Company disappear under a wave of orcs." His mouth set into a hard line. "But I can't tell him I dream about him dying in Laketown from the poisoned wound in his leg. That Tauriel walked away instead of saving him." He threw back the contents of his teacup and grimaced. "What is this stuff?" he demanded, glaring at the empty cup as if it had personally insulted him, his brother, his mother, his uncle, and the entire line of Durin in a single swallow.

"Tea," Bilbo said. "If you want stronger, you'll have to get it yourself but I don't recommend it."

"Tastes awful," Fili grumbled and set the teacup aside.

Bilbo shrugged and took another sip of his tea. "I watch your uncle be consumed by the gold in the King's Hall at least once a week," he said. "Sometimes he drags me down with him and I wake up choking on nothing." He set his teacup aside and picked the apple back up. "Thorin wakes me up sometimes before it gets that bad. I can't tell him what I dream. Not yet, but it is a comfort that he is there every time I regain my senses. I have told him it is bad, and it involves him but nothing more. He always makes sure I know he is there and that we are both well. I draw comfort from that."

"You think I should tell Kili that I dream about him."

"I think you should suggest he remind you that it's him when he wakes you. It may help. It may not."

Fili nodded and set the apple he'd been holding back into the basket. "Thanks, Bilbo," he said.

Bilbo gathered the teacups and other dishes and set them in the sink. He'd come down early the next morning to clean them if one of the kitchen staff didn't do them first. "You can always come to me Fili. No matter how late at night or early in the morning. I will help you in any way I can."

Fili nodded and groaned as he went to stand, leaning heavily on the cane he pulled off the table. "I know," he said and the two hobbled back out of the kitchen to return to their own beds.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please leave a review! I love hearing from my readers!