Chapter 3 ladies and gents! SO very very happy with the reviews and favs, and follows! Thank you ever so much. And once more, just like before, I do not own Hobbit or LotR. I wish I did, but I don't…boo…

For the first time in a very long while Thorin woke up feeling refreshed, comfortable, warm and surprisingly safe. Nothing hurt, nothing pulled, and the dull ache he could feel from his body was nothing compared to the usual thrum of discomfort. He hesitated in opening his eyes. If this was a dream Thorin wanted it to last a little while longer. Unfortunately he couldn't let himself linger in the pleasant daze for too long as he was still unaware of where exactly he was at the moment.

The dwarf stirred ever so slightly, feeling the pull of wrappings on his body, the caress of sheets, smelling old wood, fresh linen, and lavender. On top of that smell though were the unpleasant odors of wet dog, heavy musk of earth, and the sharp sourness of blood. Those smells were what alerted him to the wrongness of the situation. Jerking upwards and slamming back down with a groan as it turned out that nothing hurt only when nothing moved, Thorin finally woke up and opened his eyes.

He was greeted with a white ceiling, intercrossed by dark wooden rafters. Looking around he saw a nicely furnished room, knick knacks everywhere, and by the corner, a couch, that looked as though it's been inhabited by an orc. There were smudges of dirt all over it, a pile of mud and slowly drying water under it, a heap of clothes and dirty material by it, and a basin filled with dirty water standing behind it. Squinting a little bit Thorin recognized his own clothing in the pile of dirty rags on the floor. Those made him blink, and cautiously lift the blanket, peeking under it. He slammed it down, as soon as he realized that yes, he truly was naked. The only article that could even remotely be counted as clothing on him, were the numerous bandages wrapped around his torso, legs, arms, and fingers. He looked right ready for burial.

He groaned as he tried to move more, but it seemed that his pain was lying dormant under all those wrappings and he couldn't bring himself to go against it right now. Thorin resolved to just rest for a bit, and looked around the room, slowly going everything he saw. It looked as though this was not a human home, judging by the height of the ceiling and the unusually round door. But it was not a dwarven one either, as there was too much wooden furniture and flowers in little vases on the round windowsill. Add to that bunches of lavender that hanged from the rafters in every corner of the room, and Thorin was a bit stumped, until he remembered where he was heading before his tumble and realized that this must be a hobbit's house.

Just as he made that realization, the door leading to the room started opening and Thorin hurriedly closed his eyes. He wanted to know whose home he was in, and what the best way to react later was. So he decided to lay in wait and observe.

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Bilbo woke up with a dull ache in his back and a throb in his shoulders. At first he was confused as to what exactly could have caused such a reaction, but then memories of having to lug a motionless lump of a man all the way from the road to his hole resurfaced and Bilbo let his head fall back into the pillow with a groan. That's right; he had an unplanned guest now. His eyes opened. A guest still in need of medical care and a room fool with dirty clothes and bandages, and towels that had been left there since last night's escapade of trying to get him clean and wrapped.

The hobbit stretched his hands above his head grabbed hold of the headboard, arched his back and raised it raised on his toes, making his body into a bow, arching it higher and higher until he felt a satisfying pop come from his spine.

Happy with the results of his stretch Bilbo threw off the blankets, righted the bed coverings, and went towards getting dressed. Throwing on some of his older clothes, as he would be dealing with muck, the hobbit closed the door to his room, and opened the one next to it. Trying to be as quite as he can, as to not wake up his guest, Bilbo picked up the dirty pile, and carried it out towards the cleaning room. He came back a few moments later to gather the rest of the supplies, which were swiftly deposited in the same direction, and finally grabbed some more towels and a mop.

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Thorin observed the newcomer with interest. He was quite short, even for dwarf standards, had the curliest hair Thorin ever saw, was bare footed and was wearing some nondescript clothes. Through all his little cleaning frenzy he had a very open face that occasionally lit up with a smile and Thorin couldn't help but wish to see it better and closer than what he was currently allowing himself to.

His host as it seemed, went about getting the pile of dirty material out of his room, came back with cleaning supplies and efficiently took care of the mess on, by, and behind the couch. He went away then, and Thorin found himself disappointed. He was quite enjoying the view presented to him by the hobbit on his knees as he mopped up the water under the furniture, but then he came back into the room, this time with a little bag that clicked as he moved.

The dwarf felt the bed dip by his side, and made an effort to relax his face, and not move. He felt soft gentle hands ran over his face, and straighten his hair. A wet towel was placed on his forehead; pleasantly cool on his hot skin. Then he felt the hands slide lower and start tugging off the blanket. That Thorin could not allow in good conscious and grabbed the hand, opening his eyes for the first time in the presence of the hobbit and staring intently in his surprised gaze. Thorin was mesmerized for a moment at the play of colors in the other's eyes, as he couldn't determine if they were blue or green or grey. Then he was slumped even further by the soft voice that greeted him.

"Good morning there" Smiled the hobbit; not minding the hand digging into his wrist, as he nimbly untangled and placed it down on the blanket. "So what's your name then?"