Bilbo already hated himself. He hated his shaking hands and his trembling heart and especially his quickening feet that were in very much of a hurry to whisk him away, as far away as possible, he would have wished, from Thorin. He hated that wish most of all. He didn't understand it. It was not his own. It was as if a dark wraith awoken by the Dwarves in their mines had come in the night and poisoned his heart with fear. It was a fear like no other he had felt during the course of his adventure with the Dwarves, which had not been lacking in perils and terrors. Nothing he had encountered on his journey through wonder but also through much darkness had singed his very bones with such fear as that quiet morning, in the warmth of Thorin's bedroom. And he tried so hard to look within himself and understand why this was happening to him that he only took notice of Balin walking towards him at the last minute, just before walking right into him.

"Bilbo, good morning," said Balin, laying his hands on Bilbo's shoulders as if putting up a barricade. "You look like you have somewhere important to go."

"Uh, not more important than on any other day," said Bilbo, realising just now how dry his throat had grown. "Good morning."

Balin peered at him from under his eyebrows, which he hadn't done in a while. "You seem preoccupied."

Going around a topic was really not the strong suite of any Dwarves that Bilbo had met, not even of Balin's. Usually, he liked that. At that very moment, however, he would have preferred a less direct inquiry about his more than obviously preoccupied state of mind. Better yet, he would have preferred no inquiry at all in that regard. He considered lying for a second, saying that Balin was imagining things, but he was certain that Balin was on his way to see Thorin, and seeing Thorin that morning would have revealed the truth of recent disaster without a doubt.

"I… would rather not discuss it," said Bilbo, "not now. And, as a matter of fact, I must be on my way. I'm sure Ori is waiting for me."

"Certainly," said Balin, releasing Bilbo's shoulders, not without a sigh of disappointment. "I would like to help if I can. I hope you know that."

"I do, Balin, thank you."

"All right then, I shall see you later."

Bilbo nodded his head in greeting and started again towards the library. Now he felt even worse. He considered Balin a good friend, and a good friend deserved better than being shut off in that way. He really would have tried to help, perhaps he would have even given Bilbo some good advice. Then again, even between friends, one had the right to keep certain things to oneself. It didn't make Bilbo feel any better. In fact, it made him feel like he didn't want to go where he was going after all. He was in no mood for conversation, which was always part of his days spent in the library with Ori. He also didn't feel like doing anything useful that day, not even if it involved books. All he wanted was to walk out through the gates of Erebor, into whatever weather was waiting outside, and simply drift off, unknown to others, and especially to himself.

His steps continued to take him towards the library, however, almost as if they'd had a mind of their own. As he walked in, he realised he had good reason to feel silly as well over his exchange with Balin. He had completely forgotten that he had to talk to Balin if he wanted to get a room of his own starting that night. It had to be that night and no later. He couldn't begin to imagine what it would have been like to spend the night in Thorin's room as he had always done since entering Erebor, as if nothing terrible had happened between them. But it had, and it seemed that Balin would have to hear about it from Bilbo before the day would be over.

"Good morning, Bilbo" said Ori in his usual bright tone that betrayed no hidden burdens and no heavy thoughts about the future, which Bilbo found particularly comforting that morning.

"Good morning to you, Ori," replied Bilbo.

He made his way to their work desk and sat down even though everything in him resisted. He brushed his right hand over the cover of a book that was lying on the desk, to his side, but unlike most days before, he did not feel curious enough to open it. He could feel Ori's eyes settle on him, not with the same lack of interest.

"Ori," said Bilbo, meeting the dwarf's gaze, "would you mind terribly if I didn't keep you company today? I… I feel like taking some time off."

"Oh, not at all," said Ori. "I think I can manage. Are you alright, Bilbo?"

"Yes, of course, I suppose I just need some air."

Ori nodded his head, and, to Bilbo's relief, his eyes clearly indicated that he would question him no further. He was suddenly grateful that he was not spending his days at the library with Fili, or Kili, or, even worse, with both of them. He nodded back and stood up again, taking his leave. He walked out, hoping that he wouldn't be meeting Fili, or Kili, or both on his way out. Further to his relief, he didn't, and he soon found himself where he truly wanted to be that day: out in the open, under the wide, endless sky.

It wasn't a particularly bright day. It was in fact rather cloudy. The light that filled the valley at the foot of the Lonely Mountain was bleak and colourless, but it didn't bother Bilbo, nor did it dampen his mood. His mood was already of the same shade. He stepped off the stone-carved stairway of Erebor and onto the road that led to the city of Dale and beyond. He meant to stay on it, without any particular destination in mind, until his healthy Hobbit sense of measure told him it was time to turn back towards the warmth and comfort of Dwarf hearths.

Balin continued on his own way to Thorin's bedroom. He was not particularly surprised that he had met Bilbo on the way, but he did find Bilbo's mood peculiar, and his reluctance to speak strange, if not altogether worrisome. Something told him that he would find Thorin in a similar mood.

Indeed, Thorin looked tired and dishevelled as Balin walked into his room. He was on his feet, but his hair was unbraided, and his overcoat was slanting off of his left shoulder. He reached to it with his right hand as he saw Balin and straightened it to the best of his ability. His gaze looked empty and at the same time filled with an old pain.

"Thorin, what's happened here? I met Bilbo on my way here, and he looked… distressed."

Thorin looked down, and the heaviness emanating from him made Balin expect him to say that he preferred not to discuss it either.

"Balin, I would ask that you find Bilbo a room of his own to sleep in from tonight on," said Thorin. "He will probably mention this to you himself, if he has not already, but in case he does not…"

"I see," said Balin, taking the few steps that remained between him and Thorin. "Certainly, I am sure I can find him a room. What about Dis's old bedroom? I'm sure she will want to take up larger quarters when she gets here anyway."

"That would be suitable, I think," said Thorin, drawing a deep breath.

"I assume that you do not want to discuss the reason for that."

Thorin looked at him, remaining silent for a while. "I do. Perhaps you can help me understand what it is that happened."

"I can certainly try."

"Well, he was helping me dress, as he does every morning, and he… touched me, slightly. It's happened before, but this time I… kissed him. He seemed willing at first, but then… he wasn't."

"I understand," said Balin, certain that it made Thorin happy not to have to explain the situation further. And he really did not have to.

"He must think me a brute," said Thorin.

"No, Thorin, I'm sure he does not. He seemed… quite broken up about it to me."

"Have you spoken about it?"

"No, but I have lived a long time. I know a guilty face when I see one."

"Guilty… Why should he feel guilty? I am the one who offended him."

"Now, Thorin, you wanted my advice. I think you see things in too harsh of a light. I think Bilbo does as well. He is probably… not used to these things. It is not unheard of that one gets a little hesitant when… one is not used to things."

"I suppose… Will you speak to him?"

"Of course," said Balin, inclining his head slightly.

Balin had to admit that, although Thorin seemed very upset in that instant, and Bilbo had looked very uncharacteristically gloomy himself, he was encouraged by this uncomfortable occurrence. In fact, he felt like a ray of sunshine had just broken through the clouds of that dreary day. He had held hope in his heart that the quest would succeed, that they would be able to take back the Lonely Mountain, and that Thorin would take his rightful place as King under the Mountain, but he had not hoped that the day would come when he would have to advise Thorin on something other than state matters, something so wonderful and fragile as the bond with another. It was a sign that life was truly coming back to those walls of stone, and that was no small reason to feel encouraged.

Bilbo walked for as long as he was able to, and a little beyond. It was hard to tell the time of day with the sun tucked deep beneath the thick winter clouds, but the slow dimming of the little light there was that day told him that it was time to start back. The crisp air and the open skies had done him good. His fears had not been whisked away as if by magic. He knew they could not be. But at least he no longer felt crippled by them. He even felt like he might be able to speak to Balin about getting a room of his own.

Not entirely to Bilbo's surprise, but not entirely to his relief either, Balin was standing at the top of the stairs that led back into Erebor. Bilbo smiled at him as he walked up the stairs. He was in fact too tired to give in to the slight tightening in his heart. He was quite sure there would be plenty of time to do that starting the next day.

"I trust you had a good walk, Bilbo," said Balin, his voice already a welcome breeze of warmth.

"Yes, thank you, it was quite good to get some air."

"Always does the trick when you need to clear your head."

"You've spoken with Thorin, I take it," said Bilbo, as he climbed the last step and finally stood near Balin.

"I have. He mentioned you wished to have your own room starting today."

"Has he?"

"Yes. I don't blame you, Bilbo. We all love Thorin, but he can be a bit overbearing at times."

Bilbo laughed, for the first time that day, and he couldn't quite believe it. "I do believe that is an understatement."

"Hmm… What do you say we have supper, just the two of us, and we can speak about whatever is on your mind. If you'd like, of course. I have already prepared your room."

"Yes, I would like that, in fact."

"Wonderful. Shall we, then?"

Bilbo and Balin sat down to have supper together in Balin's private quarters. It was for the best, as theirs was not a conversation for the ears of others.

"Was Thorin very upset?" asked Bilbo.

"He was not very happy."

Bilbo sighed deeply and looked at the boiled potato in his fork rather than eating it, as he wanted. "I humiliated him completely this morning. I don't know how I shall be able to look him in the eye again."

"Perhaps 'humiliated' is too strong of a word," said Balin, knowing very well that it was not.

"No, it is not. You were not there. You didn't see the look in his eyes."

"I supposed I was not there," conceded Balin. "What happened, Bilbo? Was he perhaps too forceful? Dwarves can be-"

"No!" Bilbo almost shouted and he could see that it had taken Balin by surprise. "Certainly not. It was entirely my fault. I started it, after all."

"Well, I don't think laying blame is particularly helpful."

"No, but… I feel like it's my fault," said Bilbo and looked into Balin's eyes. He also felt like he was about to cry.

Balin lay his hand on Bilbo's. "It can feel that way. It doesn't mean it is your fault. It is no one's fault. You need time. That is all."

"Why? What time do I need? I… I care about him. Shouldn't that be enough?"

"I know you care about him, Bilbo, and that is precisely why it is not enough. In my experience, when there is much at stake, it is hard to rush into things."

"I suppose… I also found a book yesterday," Bilbo mumbled under his breath.

"What book?"

"About Dwarven courtship and marriage customs," Bilbo mumbled again. "I can't read it, but Ori told me a little about it."

"I see," said Balin, letting out a deep sigh of his own. "I would not concern myself with such things if I were you."

"I wish I could not."

"Bilbo, the Dwarves of Erebor have lived in exile for a long time. We have had to learn to do some things differently, even break with some of our customs. Now that we finally have our home back, I doubt that the first thing we will want to do is bring back that which we have learned to live without."

"Perhaps not now, but eventually…"

"Now is the only time we can do something about."

"I know."

"Give it time. Give yourself time, and make sure you tell Thorin that you don't think he's a brute."

Bilbo almost dropped his fork. "A brute? Is that what he said?"

Balin nodded his confirmation of Thorin's dire verdict over what had happened between them that morning.

"Oh, I must be the stupidest Hobbit that ever lived!" said Bilbo, taking his head in his hands.

"Now, now, I think that is a bit harsh."

"Then what would you call me?"

"A Hobbit that needs a bit more time."

"I must speak to Thorin tonight."

"I would encourage you to do that."

Even though he had just had a very satisfying evening meal with Balin – satisfying meals was something that Hobbits and Dwarves had in common, it seemed – Bilbo felt as is a thousand tiny mice were burrowing around in his belly. He was standing in front of the door to Thorin's bedroom now, and one might have said that he was a little nervous. He had to do it, however. He had to try and explain as much as he could to Thorin, to put his mind at ease more than anything. Thorin had suffered enough in his life, and Bilbo had witnessed some of that suffering himself. The last thing he wanted to do was to add to it. No, Thorin deserved better. He deserved to think better of himself than that he was a brute.

Bilbo went in, quietly, still wishing deep down that he could go unnoticed, that he could be a ghost in Thorin's room and that he could merely whisper his words into Thorin's ear as if they had come in a dream. But he was not a ghost, and as masterful as he was at being quiet, Thorin turned his head to him the moment he stepped into the room.

"Bilbo!" he said, jumping from his seat, his voice almost booming with relief.

"Please," said Bilbo, raising a flat hand to him, as if wanting to shield himself from anything Thorin had to say. "I need to explain myself to you."

"Tell me what I did wrong and I promise never to do it again."

"Please, Thorin, sit down and let me speak. If I don't say it now, I won't be able to say it at all."

Bilbo's request was granted without much protest, and Thorin retook his seat, appearing willing to listen.

Bilbo clasped his hands at his back and stuck out his chin in what he was sure was a posture that made him look very serious, if not even a little distant, and official. He needed to feel that way.

"First of all," he began, taking a few steps closer to Thorin until he reached the middle of the room, "you did nothing wrong. Everything you did I… certainly hope you will do again… when I'm ready. I'm not ready right now, not really."

"I understand," replied Thorin, his voice deep and warm, like the low fire that burned at his side.

"No, I don't think you do," said Bilbo. "You see, when I left the Shire with you and the others, I expected to be thrown into situations I hadn't been in before, I expected… the unexpected, so to say. That contract you made me sign made sure to lay out all the grand possibilities that awaited me. But I thought that, when it would all be over, the only thing left for me to do would be to go back home, as simply as that. And yet, here I am still, with you."

Thorin smiled to him, but to Bilbo's surprise, he didn't reiterate how he would understand Bilbo's decision if he chose to go back to the Shire at any time.

"And it is not simple at all," Bilbo went on. "In fact, it is more complicated than ever."

Thorin remained silent, but he dropped his gaze to his hands.

"I don't know if you're aware of this, Thorin, but you're very beautiful," said Bilbo, barely believing that he was really saying that out loud. It made Thorin look back up to him quite suddenly. "I don't even know if it is of any import to you. I certainly didn't think it was to me. But you… you stir thoughts in me that I've never had before."

"You mean you've never -" Thorin interrupted.

"No, I mean I've never felt so strongly about it, and certainly not for someone… like me."

"Oh," said Thorin quickly. Now he understood a bit more about what troubled Bilbo.

"Let alone for someone… like you."

Thorin laughed. "I know, I am a walking complication… Well, barely walking for now."

That made Bilbo laugh as well, and there was nothing like laughter to mend a bruised heart.

"We don't have to do anything that makes you feel that uncomfortable," said Thorin, standing up again, and daring to come closer to Bilbo. He could feel it was alright now. "Thank you for telling me about it."

Bilbo looked up at him. He was indeed so beautiful. "I had to. Balin told me you thought I thought you were a brute."

"I did."

"I could never think that way about you, Thorin, never."

"I am glad to hear that."

Bilbo gave in to the cloud of dreamlike comfort that grew between him and Thorin when they were close and nothing stood between them. He allowed himself to lean into Thorin's chest and be engulfed by his arms. It was where he had wanted to be all day, not out in the cold, lightless wilderness. It was also where he wanted to remain, but he couldn't, not for the time being, at least.

"I'd better go," said Bilbo, retreating from their embrace. "Balin told me I can sleep in your sister's old room. Won't she mind?"

Thorin smirked affectionately. "I doubt it. She will certainly want new quarters when she gets here, something more fitting of her current standing."

"Of course," said Bilbo. "Well, good night then."

"Good night, Bilbo," said Thorin, his large hands slipping slowly off of Bilbo's shoulders.

"Will you be alright in here on your own?"

"I'll be fine. I am the king after all."

"That you are. I'll see you in the morning."

Thorin inclined his head in a very royal manner. Bilbo felt like he could finally retire to his room without having to worry that he would have to face another sleepless night. That morning, this particular ending to his day had seemed far beyond the realm of possibility. But many things seemed impossible when one looked at them from the deep well of dark thoughts. And if Bilbo had learned anything over the course of his adventure was to not allow darkness alone to shade the things that still lay over the horizon.