A/N: Right, this is the last chapter - but I'm splitting it into two parts again, so technically this is the penultimate chapter! It's very angsty though, as we reach the climax, so... I apologise in advance. I really, really, really do!

Please enjoy this chapter... If you can... ;)


Thorin couldn't get the image of Bilbo's stricken face as he ran from the dining room out of his mind. Each time he closed his eyes he could see the confusion and shock on his hobbit's face, and he could only pray to Mahal that it wasn't revulsion he saw in his eyes and that stayed his hand from reaching out.

He didn't think he could take it if Bilbo rejected him.

His fury at his sister rose up with each minute he had to continue to sit at the table and endure the blasted meal. By the end of it he was nearly gnashing his teeth and it was all he could do to say goodnight to Dain civilly, especially when Dain expressed his concern over Bilbo. Thorin forcibly relaxed his fists, and nodded stiffly.

He made his way to Dís' chamber, where she was sitting on a chair by the fire waiting for him. She grinned her sly smile at Thorin.

'Well, brother? Are you going to thank me?'

'Thank you for what, Dís? Thank you for telling Bilbo all about my Calling and scaring the living daylights out of him? Dís, did you see his face as he left? He couldn't bear to be in there a moment longer! He couldn't bear to be in the same room as me! And you wonder why I never told him!'

He was shouting, loud enough for Fíli and Kíli next door to hear but he didn't care; his heart was hurting and it was all he could do not to break down completely. This was as good as a rejection; every dwarf feared rejection from their Ones, perhaps more so than death - death is final; pain has to be lived with.

'Thorin, he was just shocked. He didn't look disgusted, or averse to it!' Dís protested. 'If I hadn't told him, Thorin, would you ever have done? Or would you just have let him continue, wearing your ring and never knowing how you feel about him?'

'If it meant he stayed with me, yes!' Thorin shouted, and then he crumpled. He visibly shrank as he gasped for air, and he didn't protest when Dís came to him and held him close. She pressed a soft kiss to his hair, stroking it softly until he regained control.

'I'm sorry,' she whispered. 'But please, trust me.'


Bilbo woke the next day, his eye landing on the ring and its chain, memories from last night flooding back. He let out a soft groan; he'd really thought for a moment that Thorin harboured feelings for him, hadn't he? Well that was embarrassing. At least Thorin didn't know that Bilbo had actually believed that for a moment...

Thorin was meant to be meeting with Dain today, and he wanted Bilbo there. Bilbo briefly considered pretending he was sick, but thought better of it - relations between Erebor and the Iron Hills really did need to be patched up, and Thorin didn't exactly like Dain, as he'd proven (and Bilbo still couldn't understand). It would probably be best for all their sakes if Bilbo was there to keep an eye on things...

And so he washed and dressed, selecting a fine white crisp shirt and a waistcoat of pumpkin - he remembered the dwarves laughing at such a colour, but Bilbo was fond of such flamboyant shades, and they'd agreed in the end that it suited him very well.

His gaze fell on the flower ring on the bedside table again. Should he wear it? Even now he knew what it - might, he added - mean...? He shook his head, ignoring the butterflies that suddenly seemed to be fluttering in his stomach. Honestly, Bilbo was not Thorin's One! What a ridiculous notion... He picked the chain up gently and fastened it, resting his finger on the silver curled petals for just a moment.

He wasn't sure how long there was until the meeting and whether he had enough time to have breakfast or not, and he was just deliberating on if he should make a dash to the kitchens or not when there was a knock on the door.

Bilbo rushed to open it and was greeted by Thorin (Bilbo quashed the sudden prickling in his stomach; honestly, he was going to have to put all this out of mind if he didn't want to spoil their friendship) who smiled tentatively. Bilbo returned it, just as uncertainly.

'I... Are you... Are you still coming? To the meeting with Dain?' Thorin asked softly. 'I thought perhaps you might be...still indisposed, after last night...' He sounded unsure.

'Oh, no, of course not. I mean - I mean, of course I'm going to be there. Look, I'm even wearing my special hobbit waistcoat to scare Dain with,' Bilbo joked to cover up his initial babbling. It pulled a small smile that tugged at Thorin's mouth, and Bilbo smiled too. 'I haven't eaten yet, though-'

'I'll have some food brought to the hall,' Thorin said immediately, and Bilbo brightened considerably. He stepped out and pulled the door shut behind him.

'Then let's go,' Bilbo said, and the two began walking to the meeting hall where Dain was waiting. Thorin itched throughout the entire walk to say something about last night, about the flower, to place a hand on Bilbo's back...

'It's not going to be that bad,' he heard Bilbo say, a small smile on his face. 'We're not even there yet and you're frowning.'

'Am I?' Thorin said, laughing weakly. 'I'm sorry...'

'No, no, it's... It's fine.'

Nothing more was said and the walk became increasingly awkward and Thorin longed to ask Bilbo about last night, about what Dís had said... But Bilbo hadn't brought it up so he would wait, as long as it took, until Bilbo was ready to talk about it.

For his part, Bilbo was trying to ignore the little details he kept noticing now - such as the way a strand of Thorin's hair had escaped its braid and kept flicking into his eye; the number of grey hairs in his gradually-growing beard; the little freckle he had just on his neck... How had he never noticed the freckle before? Thorin's presence was beginning to distract him and he was grateful when they reached the hall, where Balin, Dís, Dain and his advisor were waiting and Thorin's attention was focused not just on him. In the chorus of greetings Bilbo shook himself and breathed deeply, pushing the silly thoughts to the back of his mind. It was business, now.

They all took their seats at the small table -Thorin at one end with Bilbo and Balin on either side (Dís was next to Balin) and Dain at the other - but as they did so, Bilbo's stomach rumbled and he glanced at Thorin, who immediately motioned to a servant and murmured some orders; the servant ran off and within a few minutes had returned with a teapot and a plate of crumpets with golden, melted butter. He couldn't contain his delight as he thanked the servant, and he saw Thorin smiling at him out of the corner of his eye.

They began the talks, starting off with arrangements on protection and potential aid in war should the need arise, and Bilbo munched quite happily on his breakfast as they discussed matters he was quite out of his depth in. He finished when they began to talk about trading, however, and Thorin would occasionally pose a question to Bilbo about crops - which were quite often unnecessary - and Bilbo found himself clutching tightly at his teacup whenever Thorin directed his sharp blue gaze at him.

No matter how much he told himself he was being silly, Bilbo couldn't ignore the fluttering in his stomach whenever Thorin looked at him, whenever Thorin's elbow brushed against his arm... Bilbo sat stiffly in response, trying to ignore it and finding the whole situation completely silly but still unable to shake the thoughts. He focused on Dain and his advisor in an attempt to ignore the feeling.

Thorin too was acutely aware of Bilbo's presence beside him, and he noticed Bilbo's wooden posture and his jumpiness. When the meeting ended, Thorin reached out to Bilbo - and frowned when Bilbo jumped at his touch - and spoke in low tones.

'Please, Bilbo, can I... Can we talk? Now?'

Bilbo nodded. 'Of course...' Thorin led them out of the hall and up into the higher parts of the Mountain until they emerged out on the battlements. The sun was shining, even if the air was crisp and cold, and Bilbo turned his face up to the sunlight. The wind ruffled his hair as Thorin watched, his eyes soft like the sky as he watched Bilbo.

Bilbo looked at him then, and then just as suddenly looked away, confused. He frowned as he quickly returned his gaze to the landscape, and Thorin nearly cursed out loud - although that didn't stop the litany of curses he ran through in his head. He shouldn't have let his emotions show so obviously on his face; he should be more careful...

Bilbo had turned and at seeing Thorin there, the sunlight throwing strands of auburn into his dark hair and turning his eyes a light and sunny blue, Bilbo was struck by quite how handsome Thorin was... How had he never noticed before? Of course he'd noticed Thorin's rugged good looks before, but how had he not noticed quite how... Attractive he was? The thought made Bilbo incredibly flustered and he blushed, quickly returning his gaze to the land and away from Thorin, scolding himself for this foolishness.

Bilbo began speaking then, as he continued watching the lands beyond the Mountain, to cover his discomfort. 'Do you know what Dain was speaking about at dinner yesterday? He was telling me about the libraries in the Iron Hills...'

Dain? Why was Bilbo talking about Dain, now? Thorin didn't want to hear what Dain was saying, what charming anecdotes he was spinning to win Bilbo over.

'... And have you spoken to the Lady Hana? She's in charge of the jeweller's guild... And the Lady Gír is especially fond of books - did you know she holds a position of authority in the library there? She's very nice... Lady Sila says that the traders in Dale...'

Bilbo just started talking, not paying attention to what he was saying but just saying anything to fill up the silence.

Thorin just made the right noises in all the right places, listening to Bilbo but not taking it in as it felt like his heart was sinking. Slowly he realised something, as Bilbo continued to talk about Dain and his delegation.

Bilbo didn't love him - that he could deal with. What hurt was that Bilbo was evidently in love with one of the Iron Hills dams - or maybe even Dain. That made his blood boil, but he knew he couldn't stop Bilbo. But that didn't make this rejection hurt any less - especially as Bilbo knew he was Thorin's One... Didn't he? He couldn't not, surely...

He interrupted Bilbo after a while, unable to listen to any more without it hurting too much.

'Bilbo...'

'Yes, Thorin?'

'I should go and check on Fíli and Kíli. Make sure they're... Not causing Dain any trouble.'

'Oh - Of course... Didn't you want to say something though? I'm sorry, I rather babbled on a bit-'

'It's not important,' Thorin said, and smiled tightly. He realised it really wasn't wise to have come onto the battlements - he'd thought Bilbo would appreciate the sun but hadn't thought about how Bilbo might react to revisiting the place Thorin had nearly... It made Thorin sick to even think of it, and he hurried away, leaving Bilbo alone and his own heart beating so frantically it was trying to escape his chest.

He returned to his own chamber, locking the door behind him and sinking shakily into an armchair. At least he knew now, that Bilbo didn't return his feelings. He had hoped - of course he had; he kept the booklet Bilbo had made for him close to his heart all the time, in the inside pocket of his jacket. Always he could feel its presence.

A small part of his brain tried to protest - Bilbo had been wearing the ring today, hadn't he? - but Thorin pushed them away. Bilbo couldn't look at him any more, and he probably only wore it because he felt obliged to.

Suddenly Thorin couldn't stand to be in his rooms any longer; they were too claustrophobic, too close, and he pushed himself up and then was making his way to the very highest parts of the mountain, up beyond the battlements and into the old abandoned watch towers - they hadn't been used even before Smaug, and Thorin had escaped to them many a time when he had simply wanted to escape his princely duties for an hour or two; when he wanted some time to just be himself for a while and not 'Your Grace'. Even two hundred years later, they still offered some comfort.

The tower was built so high up that you could see Lake-town on its stilts over the water, the sun reflecting off the lake like a fiery ruby as it disappeared behind the clouds. Thorin had forgotten how the days drew shorter as winter approached, and now here they were at not even three hours past midday and the sun was sinking. The tower itself was dusty, boarded up and with many weak spots on the floor from its extended disuse which one had to be careful to avoid. It smelt musty; to Thorin it was the smell of his early childhood.

He'd often wanted to share this discovery with someone when he was younger - a partner in crime with whom he could run away and camp out in these empty shells of rock, but he never had. Dís would have ended up telling, and Frerin would have tried to claim the tower as his; and so Thorin had always been alone when he came up here.

And as such, he was unprepared for the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. He was up with his sword in his hand the moment he heard, and ready to fight when the figure stepped through the doorway.

'Oh!' a voice, distinctly feminine, cried as the steel of his sword was swept in front of the figure, blocking access to the room. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean...'

Thorin recognised the voice. '... Lady Gír?'

'My Lord Thorin?' she asked, surprised. 'I do apologise, I didn't realise. Should I leave?'

'No... No, it's alright. How do you know of this place?'

She looked slightly sheepish. 'I admit, I saw you headed somewhere in a hurry, and you looked determined, so... I followed you. I hope you don't mind...?'

Thorin just shook his head. He hadn't noticed anyone as he made his way here; but then, he hadn't exactly been looking out for people.

Lady Gír had moved to one of the windows - originally thin slits in the wall to protect from an approaching enemy's weapons and now crumbling round holes - and was gazing out over the view.

'This is beautiful,' she breathed. 'I wish we had views like this at home.'

'I hear you're a scholar,' Thorin said abruptly, ignoring her comment.

She looked at him, bemused. 'Yes. I am. Did Dain tell you?'

'No.'

'Then it must have been Bilbo?' She took Thorin's silence as confirmation. She sat down carefully among the dust and the debris left on the floor. 'Mr Baggins is quite the scholar himself, you know. He's read a lot, for one so young.'

'He's not young, by his people's standards,' Thorin said stiffly, protesting at the implication.

'Of course not,' she said carefully, 'but he has had only fifty-one years to read, whereas you and I have had over two hundred.'

Thorin raised a shoulder in acknowledgement and went to join her on the floor.

'So what's the story behind this place?' she grinned, gesturing around her. 'I'm guessing it's important. I mean, you're obviously distressed and you come here for solace; you were ready to fight when you heard me coming...'

Thorin smiled. 'I used to come here as a boy, when my duties became too much. I could just be me, here.' She smiled too, looking around the tower room again. 'I haven't been back since the day the dragon was slain and Erebor was once more ours. I admit, this isn't exactly how I had planned to share it.'

'Oh?'

Thorin shook his head. 'I had hoped I might bring my One here. He... He has a great love of natural beauty and I had entertained dreams of perhaps... Proposing, here...' Thorin smiled a little at the thought of Bilbo standing here, on his tiptoes as he gazed out in wonder at the view of Lake-town, his curls a fierce orange gold in the setting sun. 'But that is no longer to be.'

Lady Gír rested a hand on his arm. He could see ink splotches on the skin and callouses from handling a quill.

'I cannot claim to know how it feels to be rejected by your One, but I do know the effects. My... My mother was rejected by her One after she found out she was pregnant with me. He just left one day, and she never heard from him again. She never recovered, either. She died when I was only twenty-seven, her broken heart never strong again, and I was apprenticed to Master Forin of the Grand Library.'

'I... I'm sorry,' was all Thorin could say. Her hand squeezed his arm gently before she let him go.

'Don't be,' she said lightly. 'If there's one thing I know, it's that you can't just expect things to happen. Have you told him outright how you feel?'

'No, not expressly, but...'

'Then that's what you have to do!' she said, smiling. 'If I'm right, and your One is a certain hobbit with curly hair and large feet - you haven't exactly been subtle,' she laughed at his shocked expression, '-if I'm right, and I usually am, he just doesn't understand quite how important a One is. And from what I can tell, he's painfully shy about these things-'

Thorin shook his head. 'He knows that he is my One - my good sister told him, more or less. Since then he can barely look at me, let alone speak to me. But I thank you, Lady Gír, for your comfort.'

'Then I hope you will forgive him, at least. The pain of rejection will eat at you enough without gnawing resentment consuming you too.'

'Do you know,' Thorin smiled, 'you can tell that you work with books?'

Gír laughed, and Thorin couldn't help but smile. When the last sliver of sun disappeared low in enough in the sky that it no longer shone in through the windows, Thorin got up and lent a hand to Gír. Offering her an arm, he walked her back down the stairs and through Erebor to her rooms before turning back to his own.

His heart wasn't light, but it was certainly lighter.


Bilbo couldn't settle for the rest of the day. He'd gone to see Fíli and Kíli after a while and the gnawing anxiety had increased when they'd said they hadn't seen their uncle since breakfast. Even Bofur and his cheerful smile couldn't make Bilbo feel better, and after sitting in his room trying and failing to read as Thorin's face flitted through his mind constantly, he eventually gave up and headed out to Thorin's room.

There was no answer when he knocked, and Bilbo wondered if Thorin was ignoring him, or if he just wasn't there. He thought perhaps it was the latter, but where would he be? He wasn't with Fíli and Kíli, or Dís. Might he be with Dain? It was worth a try...

He walked quietly down to where the guests were staying, but he froze into place as he was heading down the staircase, before scurrying away back round the corner and poking his head round to see, when he heard voices...

Yes, there was Thorin, and -

Bilbo felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. He gasped air into his resisting lungs, insisting that was the reason for the water welling up in his eyes. His blood was pounding in his ears and he was winded...

Because there was Thorin, and on his arm, laughing up at him was Lady Gír. Thorin was - he was laughing too, and he looked more relaxed than Bilbo had seen him since the picnic.

Oh, what a fool he'd been. If only he'd listened to his Baggins self rather than indulging his Took, because he really was a Fool of a Took and more deserving of that title than any of the inhabitants of Tuckborough. He was such a fool, because he knew now...

He knew he loved Thorin. He loved him more than his smial, than his books, than all seven meals a day; Yavanna, Bilbo loved him more than the air he breathed and now, it seemed, he'd got his wish - it looked like his plan had worked: Thorin had found himself a lady love. It was what Bilbo had been hoping for, but now he understood why he could never imagine Thorin in a domestic scene; he understood the nerves he got when he saw Thorin; he understood why Thorin's mere presence made him feel as if Lithe, Yule and Harvest had all come at once.

It was because Bilbo Baggins, fool that he was, was in love with Thorin Oakenshield - who just happened to have fallen in love elsewhere.


A/N: *incoherent sobbing* (It was so painful to write, guys... I really am so sorry! But I won't keep you waiting too long - I'll update the next chapter tomorrow.)