08/01/2022 Author's Notes: Belated Happy 2022 everyone! I wish for you all to have a safe, healthy and happy 2022.

I had hoped to finish DOS portion of this story before the end of last year, but unfortunately that did not happened due to a number of things. I can confirm however, that the DOS portion is pretty much done now so hopefully with some luck this fic might actually be finished before this year is out... 12 months that should be enough time right... yeah, we'll see. But that is the plan.

Anyway, this chapter is purely filler, fluff chapter, which I hope you enjoy, with Chapter 24 being when the company finally, finally reaches Erebor. I'll be posting that chapter shortly.

Chapter 23

A quiet interlude

"Oi! Whatcha doing outta bed?" Bilbo turned her throbbing skull in direction of Bofur's obnoxiously loud shout.

"Food. And book." Was her answering croak, the words tearing her raw throat to ribbons.

"Bilbo, no talking." Ori squeaked in horror, "you're meant to be resting your throat."

Bilbo emitted an exasperated huff, before stomping towards the kitchen of the town house the Master had oh so graciously provided them for the duration of their stay in Laketown, in search of food that a) would not hurt her throat to swallow and b) didn't taste remotely like fish.

She was rather certain she was going to fail on both counts, despite Bombur's best attempts at cooking soups and other soft food dishes for her to eat.

"Why are you out of bed?"

Oh for the love of…

She swung around to face Thorin – and almost immediately had to be steadied by him because she moved far too quickly and thrown herself off balance – with a scowl.

"I have a cold," She croaked, raze throat be damned, "not terminal!"

"Oin said bed rest." Thorin replied, arms crossed and probably trying to appear firm, but Bilbo was simply not having it.

"Bed rest," she growled, "doesn't actually mean one is to stay in bed all the…."

"Yes, it does!"

She glared at the dwarves, each and every one of them, feeling rather betrayed by their continued attempts to keep her trapped inside that bedroom, bored out of her skull.

"Lass," Bilbo pressed her hand against her face… all she wanted was some food and another book! Was that so much to ask? If they had just bloody left her be, she'd be back in the blasted bed already! "why are you…"

"I just want some food and a new book!" she screeched.

A rather stupid thing to do really, given the coughing fit that followed and the immediate fussing from dwarves who seemed even more determined than ever to not let her leave that damn bed.

"The sooner you stay in this bed, the sooner you will be better and be able to leave it." Thorin told her once she had been settled back into the bed, a bowl of soup in her lap, new books on the bedside table along with a large (extremely large, given it was a human size cup) cup of tea with a generous dollop of honey in it.

Bilbo shot him a withering look.

"Because you are such a model patient." She croaked grumpily back, though some of her grumpiness eased when Thorin grinned at her, albeit a little sheepishly.

"What is the saying," Thorin replied as he kicked his legs out in front of him, "ah… do as I say, not as I do?"

"I feel as if you live very much by that phrase, especially when it comes to Fili and Kili."

Thorin let out a snort of agreement before sighing.

"They grew up in a far different time than I did. I would keep them safe… and their mother will have my head if I allow even a single hair upon either of their heads be harmed."

"Dis?" Bilbo croaked as she settled back against the many pillows piled behind her back, to help ease her cough and the pressure upon her lungs.

"Hmmm. She was not very keen on having them join this quest. Nor was I, I must admit, for I am their uncle first and foremost and…" he let out a small sigh, "I would have them safe from harm, for as long as I am able."

"But they are grown," Bilbo whispered knowingly, "and can make up their own minds. And if you had not allowed them on this quest, they would have followed you anyways."

"Quite. In fact, it was this knowledge that had Dis and I finally agreeing to allow them to come. For short of tying them up and locking them in their rooms, those boys would have come after me, and we felt it would be safer to have them follow me with a company to watch their backs, rather than have them travel after, alone."

Bilbo reached over and patted his arm fondly.

"You're a good uncle."

"I'll be an even better uncle if I can keep them alive to see this quest fulfilled." Thorin muttered darkly, before wincing at his words, glancing away from Bilbo's face. "Forgive me, that…"

"Bard's words, they've rattled you, 'aven't they?" Bilbo coughed into her hands and took a quick sip of tea, the honey easing her raw and painful throat.

"Rather."

"You're both right." Bilbo sighed softly, "Smaug is a very great threat and if we… if we wake him and do not kill him, he will most likely come here and wreak havoc." The very thought made her sick, "but if we do nothing, he could still wake up, come here and wreak havoc. And, well, Gandalf approved of this quest. He wants to help you rid Erebor of Smaug, for you and your kin to reclaim your homeland. I don't think Gandalf would put so much faith in this quest if he did not believe it was possible for us to succeed."

"Because we have you." Thorin replied and Bilbo blinked back at him, rather owlishly.

"Me?" She croaked, "I don't see how I am so important. To be honest, I don't really understand what use a burglar is in this quest to rid Erebor of Smaug."

"Do you truly believe thirteen dwarves can kill a dragon, when both a city of dwarves and men failed?" Thorin asked, gently, his eyes fixed upon her face.

Bilbo scrunched up her nose and played idly with a loose thread in her blanket.

"To be honest, I 'aven't given it too much thought. Thinking of dragons, ah, tend to make me faint." She gave him a small grin and was pleased to get one in return.

"Aye, I remember." He reached over and gently tucked a stray curl behind her ear, causing her already flushed face to turn an even deeper red.

As he withdrew his hand, he spoke solemnly.

"The plan that Gandalf has in mind for this quest, is not to kill Smaug."

Bilbo blinked.

"It's not?" she had always wondered but had never quite worked out how to ask Gandalf what the actual plan for this quest was. To help the dwarves reclaim their homeland, sounds very nice and heroic but there had never been much talk regarding the 'How'.

"No. the purpose of this quest, is take back the Arkenstone."

Bilbo nodded slowly.

"Thranduil mentioned it, when you spoke. It sounded… important?"

"Yes, it is, greatly. It's known as the King's Jewel, and the only thing that will unite the seven dwarf armies to this cause."

"And I'm to steal from Smaug's golden horde?" Bilbo guessed, swallowing back the bile that had risen in her throat.

"Yes."

"Sure…" She squeaked, hands clenching into her blanket, "No pressure… only that the whole purpose of this quest and you being able to reclaim your homeland comes down to me, and me alone, being able to sneak past a sleeping furnace with wings and find a very pretty, very important jewel." She grabbed up her tea cup and took another deep sip, wishing that there was more added to her tea than simply honey, something stronger and stiff and leave her feeling very drunk.

"Yes… do you wish you had not come?" Thorin asked, not looking at her, but out the window at Laketowns rooftops.

Bilbo shook her head.

"No, I'm just rather hoping I don't muck things up and disappoint you." Bilbo replied honestly before letting out a small yelp of surprise when Thorin surge towards her, cupping her face with both his hands and pressing a warm, heart filled kiss upon her lips.

Carefully placing her cup of tea back upon the bedside table, Bilbo tentatively curled her fingers into Thorin's shirt and kissed him shyly back.

It was all rather lovely, right up until she needed to pull away to cough.

"I'm" cough "so" cough, cough "sorry."

Thorin said nothing and simply rubbed her back until her coughs eased.

Falling heavily back onto her pile of pillows, Bilbo gave him a sheepish smile.

"Good things dwarves can't catch colds." She croaked, grateful to this fact now while a day or two ago she had cursed them for it, if only because the dwarves upon hearing she had a cold, seemed to be of the mind that she was dying!

Thorin snorted. But the hand caressing her cheek was gentle.

"I should not have let you talk so much."

"You're not leaving, are you?" Bilbo squeaked, horrified by the idea of being left to the boredom of this dull room. Human books, while interesting, did not capture her interest nearly so keenly as the tomes written by elves.

"Do you wish for me to stay?" Thorin asked, looking a little perplexed that she might actually enjoy his company.

"Very much."

"You should probably try and get some sleep," Thorin said settling once more into his chair.

Bilbo rolled her eyes.

"Oin's orders," Thorin reminded her with a slight smile pulling at his lips, "plenty of fluids and bed rest."

Bilbo grumbled, but drank the rest of her soup and tea without complaint, before snuggling deep beneath the bedclothes with a book. Though she was soon to drop off into a deep slumber

Once he was certain she was in a deep enough sleep that his leaving would not disturb her, Thorin picked up her empty bowl and cup and quietly left the room. He would check on her again in an hour or so.

With one final glance at the slumbering hobbit, Thorin closed the bedroom door behind him.

8 8 8

It took Bilbo well over a week to feel vaguely like her normal self again, but even when her cough and heavy head had eased, she still felt exhausted to her very bones.

She had tried her best to hide it from her dwarves, but obviously they read her far better these days and while they eased up some on their fussing, they still showed their concern in small ways; like making her numerous cups of tea – some had it down to a fine art, Dori in particular made the best tea – making sure she ate several times a day and helped her organise and replenish her supplies in her rather battered pack.

Her poor pack's time during Mirkwood and subsequent trip down the river had not done it any kindness and Bilbo was rather thinking she would have to leave it behind. But it and the three elven books she had had tucked away in it. – The river water had certainly not been kind to them! While still readable, the pages and leather were warped and wrinkled, and booklover that she was, Bilbo was rather distraught over the sad sight of them – disappeared one night, only for her to find it again, the following morning, mended to a standard that almost looked new, if a little well-loved.

She embarrassed them all by bursting into tears, but despite their embarrassment they seemed to be pleased.

When Bilbo wasn't trapped within the townhouse, when the dwarves actually allowed her outside, though usually with one or two dwarves accompanying her, she explored Laketown, sketching points of interest and talking with the locals who seemed to not know what to make of her.

Dwarves, though uncommon in these parts nowadays, were still known to these people, hobbits on the other hand, well… it really did seem to be that they thought her some kind of Fae creature, which had the adults wary and the children… absolutely fascinated by her.

Bilbo quickly lost track of just how many times she was waylaid by Laketown children, asking her to grant them wishes or to tell stories.

She had laughed brightly at their request for her to grant them wishes, but more than happily told them stories, anything from old Hobbit Fae-tales to slightly embellished recounts about some of the funnier moments that had happened during the quest. Obviously, they hadn't been funny at the time, but looking back now… well, Bilbo had enough of a sense of humour to see how being used as a troll's hanky would amuse children.

It certainly amused Kili often enough, barely a boy grown.

And a boy in the throes of first love, she thought with a small sigh.

During one afternoon, at her bedside, Kili had sat with her and eagerly told her all about Tauriel, the elf maiden guard whom Kili had befriend during their time in the Woodland Realm.

She had known from watching the two, that Kili had been smitten with the elf, but she hadn't, not until speaking with him, realised just how deeply the boy clearly felt.

He was already trying to figure out how he might see her again.

"Once we've reclaimed the mountain and the great worm has been slain." Kili had been quick to add just as Bilbo opened her mouth.

She had closed it and simply kept her thoughts to herself.

She honestly did not know what to say to dissuade the boy from his feelings for the elf. It would be hypercritical of her given her own feelings towards his kingly uncle, and maybe she was a little hopeful, that once Erebor was reclaimed (and Smaug was, well, gone…), maybe elf and dwarf relations (and human too) would improve, allowing for Kili to well… court his elf maiden, if she so felt the same way – which again, having seen the two of them talk, Bilbo rather thought that she did.

It was all very sweet, and absolutely a tangled mess that would bring out the tempers of many of the members of their company.

Bilbo sighed again, wondering how many tempers would be unleashed upon learning of her and Thorin's… whatever this was currently between them.

Closing her book and setting it upon the bedside table, Bilbo slid out of the bed, having a sudden desire, despite the late hour, to see Thorin.

She crept soundlessly down the hall to the bedroom Thorin had taken as his own and peer in around the door.

Though she had knocked, it seemed that he had not heard her, even though he was awake, deep in thought, sitting upon the windowsill on the far side of his room, staring at the great lonely peak in the distance.

Hesitating for a moment, she quietly called his name.

"Thoirn?"

She felt awful for making him jump, but when he turned to look at her, he did not seem annoyed, though his voice was low and gruff when he spoke.

"You should be sleeping." His tone, once and maybe not so long ago, might have had her scurry away, but now the gruffness washes over her, like water on a duck's back and she moves without hesitation to stand by his side at the window.

"So should you." She replied easily as she crosses her arms on top of the windowsill, her chin coming to rest upon them.

"I do not need my sleep as much as you do." He counters causing Bilbo to roll her eyes back at him.

"Well then, if you wish me to leave…" she started to tease, pushing back from the windowsill only for Thorin to reach out and lightly catch hold of her shoulder.

"I don't…"

She beamed back at him as she settled once more against the windowsill.

And for a time, they were silent, comfortable in each other's presences that words were not needed to fill the quiet air.

She did stiffen for a moment, before relaxing once more when she realised the slight tug upon her curls was Thorin's fingers gently combing through them.

Braiding her curls, perhaps?

Whatever he was doing, it was surprisingly restful, and Bilbo felt herself start to doze off when his hands suddenly grew still against her hair.

Turning her head carefully, she peered up at him, at his uncertain face and the fingers pinched at the end of a complicated looking braid.

Understanding the problem, she fumbled with the blanket and pulled a frayed thread, pulling it free and handed it to Thorin to tie off the braid.

Once he had done so, and let the braid go, Bilbo traced a finger across the complicated pattern he had braided into her hair.

"Feels pretty." She remarks before she can quite stop herself, shooting Thorin a smile which he returned though there was a crease upon his brow. Giggling, she asked "Wrong word?"

"Rather?" He replied curtly, but she can see in the dim moonlight shining through the window, that the tips of his ears are red.

"Well then, Master Dwarf," she chuckled, "what is the proper word to describe this rather splendid braid?"

"It's a warrior's braid, Master Baggins, pretty is most certainly not the proper word for it."

"I'm hardly a warrior." She replied with a snort, rolling her eyes at the scowl the pulled across Thorin's face. Her breath caught when his hand gently grasped her chin, turning her face to look at him directly.

"You are just as much a warrior as the rest of us." He said softly as he pressed a kiss against her forehead, making her heart melt inside her chest.

"If you had an army full of warriors such as me, I fear the outcomes of your battles would not be in your favour." She quips lightly, trying to hide just how breathless his touch left her.

"When will you stop devaluing yourself?" he asked, his thumb lightly caressing her cheek.

"I'm not." She replied leaning against his caress. "I'm not devaluing myself, but I am no warrior." She turned her head to press a bold kiss against his palm, "you did not bring me along on this quest to be a warrior, you brought me along to be your burglar. And that is what I am, your burglar."

"So what you're saying is, I should have given you the braid of a burglar then, not a warrior?" he asks, a smile once more tugging at his lips.

"Hmmm, is there such a thing? A braid meaning burglar?"

"You would have to ask Nori." Thorin admitted, looking a little grumpy, "but I do not believe so. If there were such a braid, it would most likely not be well looked upon."

"Hmmm." She looked out the window, her fingers fondly playing with the braid, a faint smile on her lips.

She felt Thorin slid off the windowsill, so that he now stood beside her, his and coming to rest upon her waist, turning her towards him.

Still smiling, she lifted her head to meet his kiss, sliding a hand into his thick hair while her other curled in his shirt, her cloak blanket falling from her shoulders to pool around her feet.

8 8 8

Sometime later, Bilbo stirred from a restful slumber, her mind momentarily disorientated as she stared blankly at the dark room she was currently lying in, her head resting upon a very unusual pillow.

It was solid where a pillow was soft, but it was good deal softer than earth, rock or wooden panels. It also appeared to be moving, or rather breathing.

She lifted her head slowly and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dimness.

As she waited she became aware of other things, for one her nakedness, another the heavy but reassuring arm wrapped around her naked back and the fact that where she put her hands she was touching furnace hot flesh.

Her cheeks burned as she remembered slowly but with perfect clarity the activities she had engaged in earlier that night with the dwarf still slumbering soundly beside her.

Now that her eyes had grown accustom to the dimness she could make him out, and never before – and she was certain of this – had she ever seen him looking so relaxed and at peace with the world. For even in slumber, he had always appeared to be fighting demons, past and present. But now, now he slept soundly without a frown decorating his features. He looked younger, less world-weary and wary. He was beautiful, this dwarf, though she doubt she would ever gain the courage to tell him.

She pulled herself up, so that she sat beside him, ignoring the slight pinch and ache between her legs as she did this, and how her legs protested a little as they drew together. She ignored all of these things, for what was a little discomfort compared to all the pleasure this dwarf had given her in the process. And he had been gentle, so very gentle and tender almost to the point where she thought she might just explode from his sheer tender touch alone. It had been a relief when they had finally coupled, for finally she was able to release all those emotions and feelings that he had built and built until she had almost been sobbing for he had desired for her to be absolutely ready for him, in every way possible. She had wanted to smack him but all thoughts were obliterated from her mind once he had built them both to the point of no return.

She pressed a hand to her burning cheek as she continued to stare down at the dwarf lying beside her.

How could someone so breathtaking be even the least bit taken with her?

She ran her other hand over the hand still clutching to her waist, holding her fast to him, refusing even in his deep sleep to release her from his side.

She smiled tentatively.

Maybe this could work out… somehow. Do not ask her how, but maybe… maybe his god, Mahal would be kind and allow for them to be together in one way or another.

She stared at him for a while longer before easing herself from his grip to go and relieve herself in the adjoining bathing room.

As she came back, she found his tunic which she pulled over her head, sliding her hands through the large sleeves. It was far too cold to be without clothing for too long and she did not know where her sleeping shift had ended up in the room.

She clambered back onto the bed, though not before lighting a candle on the bedside table, if for no other reason than not to strain her eyes as she admired her dwarf.

Her lips quirked into a smile at the thought. Her dwarf.

Well, all thirteen dwarves were her dwarrows, but this dwarf, this dwarf was entirely hers, just as she was entirely his.

For better or for worse that was how it was.

She once more knelt over him, her fingers lightly tracing his many scars. Some old, some new (she shuddered as she traced the teeth marks scattered over his torso from when he was a chew-toy to Azog the Defiler's warg) along with marks, runes she had not known he had.

Of course not, for they, unlike Dwalin's, were covered by his clothing and she was a well-brought up lass and she had been taught not to peek on people as they changed clothing or when they went swimming, so of course, she had never seen him without his shirt before or after a bathe.

She huffed as the sleeves of his shirt repeatedly hindered her exploration by sliding over her hands, rolled the blasted thing up her arms multiple times so they bulged awkwardly outwards from above her elbows. But at least they stayed put, which had been her main desire, she cared little that they poked into her ribs. She had completely given up on trying to get the damn clothing to sit straight upon her much narrow shoulders, so off one shoulder it hung.

"What are you doing?" she did not jump as his soft baritone voice spoke suddenly into the night, a slight chuckle behind it.

"Creating stories to all this." She replied as she waved her hand at his torso, looking away to meet his amused gaze, which did not hold even the slightest hint of tiredness making her wonder just how long he had been awake and watching her admire and explore his very impressive chest.

"Come up with anything good?" he asked teasingly, lifting a hand from his side and gently twisted a few of her curls around his fingers.

"Hmmm," she blushed slightly, "several plausible stories, maybe, but I doubt greatly that I am even close to being right." She admitted shyly.

She was a storyteller, a good one even, but even her storyteller mind could not come up with scenarios for even half the marks or scars on his chest.

"Oh?" His mouth twitched into a fond smile as his hand moved from her curls to run down the side of her face. She leant into his hand, before and feeling quite bold as she did so, she kissed the centre of his palm.

The reaction she received from him was quite unexpected, for he was suddenly upright in front of her, cupping her face with both hands and kissing her with passion that rivalled the ones that had gotten her into bed with him earlier that evening.

Gasping and heart-pounding, she clutched at him, her barely existent fingernails digging into his shoulders.

"Thorin." She whined when they pulled away for air, or rather while she gasped for air as he attacked her neck, finding the little point at her throat that made her go weak at the knees and if she were standing… well she wouldn't be standing for much longer.

"Thorin." He was kissing her shoulder now, the one that his tunic had slid off of, his soft beard tickling her shoulder blade just so and had her giggling, causing her shoulder and neck to scrunch together.

"That tickles." She gasped out breathlessly as he returned his lips attention to her own. He kissed her mouth lightly, repeatedly.

"Did it?" he teased as he kissed her nose fondly.

"Oh yes." She reached out and gently touched his beard, loving the feel of it beneath her fingers. His own fingers flexed from where they now rested upon her waist.

He rested his forehead against her own as she continued to pet his beard, tracing his side burns and twisting her hands within his long locks.

"One would almost think you liked beards and long hair, Master Baggins." He teased her in his rich voice causing her snort.

"Careful Master Oakenshield, your sense of humour is starting to show. Keep it up and you may just lose your reputation as a serious, no-nonsense, war-harden soldier and blacksmith, soon to be coming into his crown."

He chuckled and kissed her nose once again.

"I don't mind losing that part of my reputation, at least," and she swore he almost looked shy as he toyed with her mother's wedding band that hung, as always from a black cord around her throat, "not around you. Or rather, to you. I would rather you did not see me that way, at least not completely. I'm afraid being serious and mostly no-nonsense is very much a part of my character, just as my being a war-harden soldier and blacksmith is."

"And king," she reminded him gently, "and I would not change any of these things." She added primly, "not for a second, not for anything, they make you who you are. And if you hadn't notice, I am very fond of who you are, warts and all."

"Warts?" he asked smirking causing her to blush and roll her eyes.

"You of course know the saying. Don't tease Thorin, honestly. And even," she ducked her head, her blush intensifying, "even if you had warts all over your body, it would not change my feelings for you a wit. As my mother always said, it's what inside that counts, always and with you… there is so much good and wonderful things inside of you, so much that make you a great dwarf that…" she was broken off by Thorin once more kissing her, catching her chin so that she looked at him before kissing her with such emotions that if she had been new to his kisses it would have frighten her. Now, now it fuelled her with emotions that she had never thought she would have in regards to anyone, ever and yet here she was, feeling them, for a dwarf no less.

When her mother had told her, as a wee lass running all over the Shire in search of Elves and fairies, to follow her heart and love who she wished to love, she wasn't entirely certain that this was what her mother had meant. Or who.

But oh well, it was done now and there was certainly no going back. This dwarf was inside her heart now and there was no getting him out, not unless you shattered her heart into a thousand pieces and even then, he would still reside in the shards.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against his bare chest, gasping as his hands started fighting with the bottom of his tunic, trying to and unsuccessfully, pull it from her body.

Giggling and not feeling nearly as shy as she had earlier in the night she pulled the tunic from her body and let it drop beside her, quite enjoying the looks of lust that crossed his face as her naked body became visible to his eyes. Then he tackled her to the bed and showed her, all over again, everything that her books and late-night talks in Brandyhall with girl cousins had left out when it came to love-making.