Thorin pushed Bilbo's hands into the basin of soapy water. He held back a growl. They had been so busy taking care of those humans that Bilbo had completely forgotten his skin free palms. The red blooded meat showing in some parts and the shirefolk had only thought about it when he went to unbutton his waistcoat and left a small patch of blood. In a way Thorin was admiring the threshold for pain Bilbo had, but it was a sub-thought compared to the ones that were screaming that he should kick Bofur in the pants for letting his... Bofur's Bilbo get so bad. He had the mind to go right up to the other dwarf and challenge him to the rights of Bilbo's affection since he was not keen on taking care of him. The only thing stopping him was the soft hiss next to his shoulder and the sudsy water turning pink and brown.
"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Thorin sniped quietly, under his breath.
"Well we," a small nudge of pain worked out of Bilbo's throat from his hands being cleaned. "Nn! We were so caught up with caring for Master Hawke and ow! Ow," He hissed through his teeth when Thorin pulled a small piece of rope that had been twined in some skin.
Thorin's movements became more gentle as he worked, his broad thumbs stroking at Bilbo's wrists every once in awhile helping relieve the pain. "Forgive me..." He mumbled for have causing more discomfort than needed.
"I-It's quite alright." Bilbo looked over at the dwarf. The pain started to dull as he watched the prince work. Strong hands made for shaping stone and yet he chose to be so gentle with them. The king's brown eyes held an emotion denied voice to. His brows knitted and his jaw tight. He was a haunted man, yet he still tried his best to provide for his people, to respect other cultures even after his had been ripped away.
Thorin pulled Bilbo's hands out of the water and gently dried them. He looked up at the hobbit and squeezed his wrists in a way that set a reassurement in Bilbo. Though his hands hurt all he saw were Thorin's intense eyes, swimming with an emotion that tugged at Bilbo's heart. "You are a good man Master Baggins, first you come on an adventure where I had tried to scare you away from, then you saved my life and now theirs. I wish to forbid you from getting hurt but your pain would be greater than any wound if knew you could have helped and had not."
Bilbo his heart skip his beat at the soft words the dwarf spoke. After he had saved Thorin from Azog's thug the king had been gentler, more observant to the halfling. But he had never said something so... so... sweet. He felt a little heat in his cheeks and pulled his wrists free from that lovely hold. He cleared his throat, "Yes, well... thank you for... helping me with my wounds." He shuffled away from Thorin to his pack. "I do believe I have some bandages still."
"Would you like me to help with those?"
"No! No, I, thank you but no. I can do this on my own." To be honest he just didn't want to be so close to Thorin at the moment. His Took side was arguing with the Baggins; Took understood that not all cultures were that of the hobbits and to embrace it, cut Thorin some slack. Baggins was a different story. It said Bilbo was a Baggins of Bag End and by no means was to be persuaded into forgetting the long traditions that the hobbits have lived by for so many generations. The only thing that calmed him down was the distance between them. It slowed his heart, un-muddled his mind, and allowed him to breath. After all... wasn't Thorin only "fancying" him because he did save Thorin's life? If the king actually did like him, then he wanted it to not be under a pretense that would make those emotions forced.
For the rest of the night Bilbo kept his distance from Thorin. Laying out his bed roll so that Thorin could have the bed as a personal thank you to the dwarf for helping their strange new friends. In the morning he woke a little sore but mostly from his hands. He sat up stretching and found the bed empty. Figuring that Thorin had already been up he picked himself off of the floor and set about dressing for the day. He stripped off his shirt and found the clean basin and poured some water in it and gave himself a quick, light, washing. Once done he moved away, stripping off his pants and small clothes and tossed them over his shoulder. A gruff grunt made him whirl around in surprise seeing Thorin sitting up with Bilbo's underwear and trousers flopped over his head.
"Hobbit why are you up so early in the..." Thorin's eyes traced up the naked figure of the halfling. His cheeks turning red before he tore his gaze away from Bilbo and to the side.
"O-oh my, oh my." Was all Bilbo could say as he scrambled through his pack and quickly putting on some underwear and trousers. He pulled a shirt over his head. Soon as he could see he was greeted with the sight of Thorin holding out his discarded clothing, folded neatly to the hobbit. Bilbo settled his shirt and tucked it in neatly before taking the clothes and placing them on the end of the bed.
"I'm sorry that I threw those on you. I saw the bed empty and figured you had already gotten up for the day." Bilbo murmured, his blush turning a dark red.
"A simple misunderstanding. It's alright."
"Why did you sleep on the floor?"
"What man sleeps on the bed when their equal is on the floor?"
Bilbo's voice caught his his throat. He wanted to say that he wasn't Thorin's equal, that Thorin was a king, a gallant leader that made a home for his people hundreds of miles away from a dragon so they could continue to have their race live. He was the leader of their company that would take a blow for each and every one of them even Gandalf.
He swallowed hard, not sure where he should look. His heart was running a marathon in his chest and he couldn't stop looking at Thorin's lips or his eyes.
"I'm a... gonna go." Bilbo stumbled, his large feet catching on each other. He moved clumsily to the side and to the door. "Please, feel free to um... use whatever you need and I, oh, I didn't apologize, I am so sorry for what happened. And I'll see if the others are up and about breakfast." Bilbo skittered out the door and reopened it, "Again, I'm sorry."
Thorin smiled a little over the flustering of Bilbo. It was heartwarming, like watching a kitten play with a puppy. It was a nice satisfaction that he could bolster such a reaction even if he couldn't be with the hobbit.
When Bilbo managed to scuttle down the hallway he went to the tavern section of the inn and found Bofur with his brother and cousin already sipping on a morning pint.
"You're not lookin' at your best master hobbit," Bofur winked at him. "Did something happen last night?"
"Don't start that." Bilbo slid onto the bench next to Bofur and covering his face with both of his hands. "I did the most embarrassing thing I ever could do."
Bofur nearly choked on the beer in his mouth. He whirled around on Bilbo with an astonished face. He looked around making sure that Bombur and and Bifur were busy before he leaned close and whispered, "You didn't go and do that thing did you?"
"Thing? What thing?"
"You know," He rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders as if that would tell all.
"No, I don't know."
"Did you give into his will?"
"What?! No, no. I just, threw my dirty clothes on him while changing."
Bofur let out a hearty laugh patting Bilbo on the back. "And let me guess, before you could embarrass yourself you ran out here as quick as you could."
Bilbo covered his face, beat read as Bofur filled in the other dwarfs at their table of why he was laughing in khuzdul making them laugh as well. Even though Bilbo didn't know the language he knew the gist of what was going on. Bifur said something else that caused them to roar in another upheaval of laughter.
"Sounds like you're making rather merry this morning." Hawke's voice spoke over the group as he took a seat on the other side of Bilbo.
"Yes, at my expense." Bilbo groaned. Pushing it to the side he decided to focus on the new comer to filter out the dwarfish jibs. "How is your friend?"
"Anders woke up last night, he's doing very well considering everything." Hawke waved down a bar maid.
"That is very good to hear."
"How are your hands?"
The hobbit looked down at his palms, the bandages red and sticking. "My hands do feel better than last night. Bofur, how are your hands?"
The dwarf grinned and showed his, unbandaged but clean. The raw looking state made Bilbo's stomach flip flop. He took his friend's wrist, "We need to get you some ointment."
Hawke worried at his bottom lip, before placing an order for drink and food to be sent to his room. He got up and nudged Bilbo's shoulder. "The two of you, come with me."
They looked at him curiously as he got up and started to walk down the hallway. He had a water logged pack on him when the fished him out of the river. Maybe he did have some sort of ointment or something in the pack. The two followed suite as requested.
When Hawke went into his room he was greeted by the sight of Anders sitting up in bed, his blond hair loose around his chin barely brushing against his shoulders. He smiled at his honey eyed lover and crossed the room to him. Hawke ran a hand through Anders' hair placing a kiss to his brow.
"How do you feel?" He asked sitting next to his beloved.
"Much better, everything still feels a bit hot though."
"Well you did have the temperature of ice, everything is going to be hot to you until you're fully healed."
"I hate to force you to care for me." Anders leaned into every touch Hawke gave him.
"Magic can do so much my dear. By the way," he turned and waved Bilbo and Bofur into the room. "These two dwarfs are the ones that saved us."
"Oh, I'm not a dwarf." Bilbo corrected. The humans looked to him the say way every person did that had never seen a hobbit. He sighed a little. "I'm Bilbo Baggins, a hobbit." Bilbo offered his hand but pulled it back when Anders looked at his bandaged hand.
"I, on the other hand, am a dwarf. Bofur, at your service." Bofur bowed a little tucking a thumb into his belt. "Master Hawke was tendin' to you since we got you out of that river. You're a lucky man indeed, more ways than one."
Anders smiled a little, still feeling tired. "Thank you for saving him."
Bilbo turned his head at this. "Saving him"? One only said such a thing if they had no view on self worth. No self worth meant a troubling past... like Thorin...
"I wanted you to take a look at their hands. The rope they used to save us was coarse and the current was fierce." Hawke touched Anders face once more. "But only if you feel up to it."
Anders sighed and lifted up his hands and waved the two saviors close. "Let me see your hands."
Bofur held out his hands letting the human take hold of them, "It's really nothin' we were hopin' you would have some ointment or somethin' to help it heal."
A light blue light trickled up from Anders palms into Bofur's creating a strange heat that made it hard to see his hands. It tingled and itched and when the light stopped his hands were a little sore but completely mended. The dwarf held up his hands and flexed them every which way. "Now that is somethin'. Bilbo, you have got to try this."
The halfling hesitated before he finally gave into the friendly faces surrounding him. He untied his bandages and held out his hands for Anders to repeat the action. Once it was done he scratched at his palms that tingled. "Oh my word. I thought Gandalf said that there were only five wizards in the world." He then gasped. "You must be the two blueses."
"There are a great many more mages in the world than five." Anders said, wondering if he had hit his head a little too hard in his fall into the river.
"How many more are there in Middle Earth?" Bilbo squirmed like a child ready for story time.
Anders looked to Hawke, the same question going between the two of them. Where in Thedas was Middle Earth?
"Go on then, how many?" Bofur wanted to know too.
"Well, there are countless mages in Thedas. Surely you can tell us where the nearest Chantry is." Hawke cut in trying to slip his way into the conversation already having an excuse that they were traveling from one Circle to another.
"Chantry?" Bofur rolled the thought around. In all of his travels he had never heard of something called a Chantry. "No, don't know of one. Is it a new religion?"
"What of templars?" Anders asked quickly.
"Are they the priests of the Chantry?"
Anders groped for Hawke's hand, squeezing tight. Even the dwarfs in Orzammar had heard of the Chantry and templars. Was he actually dead? Was this place heaven? No running. No Hiding. He looked to his lover and a whimper came out of his throat.
"You look like you need rest." Bilbo tugged at Bofur. "Let us continue at a later date. Thank you for healing us. It was amazing and much appreciated."
He pushed the dwarf out and gave a last look at the two on the bed. Hawke held Anders close, the mage had a hard grip on the cotton shirt that Hawke was wearing. They looked scared but also relieved. Something terrible was haunting them and somewhere in Bilbo's stomach he felt that they had yet to find a true haven.
He went back into his room finding Thorin still there, hair tied up and out of his face, carefully trimming his beard in the only mirror provided. In the reflection in the mirror he saw Bilbo and he turned around.
"Is everything alright?" He turned around looking at the halfling.
"Thorin..." Bilbo carefully chose his words. Usually he would confide in Bofur since he was his best friend or even Gandalf since he was so old and wise but at the moment Bofur was just as confused as him and Gandalf was still off doing whatever a wizard does. "Have you traveled farther than Bofur and the others?"
"I suppose so."
Bilbo came over, grabbing a small wooden chair and pulling it up beside Thorin. Something about this whole thing was making him feel uneasy. He licked his lips and rubbed his chin. "Have you heard of something called the Chantry before?"
The king gave it some thought before shaking his head. "I fear not."
"What about a land called Thedas?"
"These are strange questions Master Baggins."
Bilbo frowned. "I agree. But I would appreciate an answer nonetheless."
"No. I have not heard of a land called Thedas. Why do you ask?"
Bilbo held out his completely healed hands. Thorin caught them up into his own, his fingers trailing along the new skin that was still sensitive to the touch. He poked and prodded, flexed and massaged to see if it was some sort of illusion and if it caused any pain at all to the burglar.
"What miracle brought you this?"
"Anders. He has magic."
"I thought Gandalf said-"
"I questioned that as well." Bilbo cut him off. "But I am quite certain now that they are not from any of our lands but from one a great deal away."
"Then the question would be; how did they come upon the river that you had fished them out of?"