MASQUERADE

Chapter 8

Thorin could not believe it. He had thought that Dis was merely trying to get him out of his brooding but a look into Dwalin's face before he disappeared after Ori told him all he needed to know. Bilbo Baggins was here amongst the halls of Erebor once more. As soon as he had realised the truth Thorin had surged to his feet and demanded that Dis show him to the hobbit, his hobbit. Dis had merely let out a sound that could only be classified as exasperated amusement and turned to lead him to the one who could fix everything when the bell tolled.

Thorin swore spectacularly in Khuzdul under his breath. It was signalling for his customary speech. He had no time to be making speeches! He had to find Bilbo and set things right! Or at least beg for his forgiveness for treating him as though he were lower than orcs. His head still ached from drinking that ale he'd found in his grandfather's rooms all those weeks ago. Dis had really not been sympathetic regarding that morning and he was thankful that Balin had been the one to find and nurse him rather than his brusque younger sibling; she had little patience for his hangovers.

Nevertheless Thorin found himself striding to the front of the room, his head held high and his mask covering the set line of his lips. When he reached the front of the hall he turned to face the crowd at large and lifted his mask off his face. It was a cumbersome thing to have when one was making a royal speech and they all knew it was him anyway, no point denying it now.

"Friends, my kin and all others who call Erebor home" Thorin began loudly, stretching his voice to fill the cavernous hall. "I wish to thank you all for being here tonight to celebrate my annual day of birth; it is truly an honour to have you all by my side for yet another year"

There were cheers at this and one 'long live the King!' which he was certain came from Gloin where he sat with his brother. Thorin smiled wanly, he could not truly smile until he had seen his heart's desire. "You are all very dear to me and I would sooner fight an army of orcs than let any of you or the halls of our great city fall out of the hands of dwarves!" Thorin said. "No one shall rest this kingdom from the line of Durin, not whilst we still draw breath!"

Louder cheers went up and Thorin caught sight of his two nephews catcalling and whistling. "To my nephews and heirs" he said. "I should thank them, for they have organised this night and were it not for them none of us would be here tonight nor would we be wearing such ridiculous head attire"

There were a few chuckles of laughter at that and a couple of cheers as the princes bowed low to the crowd. "Kili, Fili please note that you will be picking up guard duty for the rest of the week" Thorin added, chuckling. More laughter echoed around the room and Thorin swept the crowd, searching for that familiar gentle face. "There is one last thing I would like to say before I allow the party to continue on" he said, clearing his throat.

The crowd began to whisper amongst themselves. Few had seen Thorin look as dull as he must have looked in that moment. He could see Dwalin out of the corner of his eye, little Ori tucked into his side and Bofur side by side with Nori. Dis was holding herself regally and met his gaze ferociously but otherwise gave no indication as to where the hobbit stood.

"Erebor is our home and it was reclaimed by myself and twelve of the bravest dwarves I have ever met. Sacrifices were made even as we set out in the beginning, we knew not how it would end only that we were determined to take back our home" Thorin said softly. "One would have thought that the dragon Smaug would have been our greatest enemy"

No one spoke and Thorin could feel their gazes intensifying. "We made mistakes, once Smaug had been defeated. We – no, I allowed myself to be taken in by something that could have spelt the end for our great home were it not for the actions of our burglar"

That was when he saw it. A figure hovering at the back of the crowd with curly hair and soft boots. Shorter than other dwarves and was now pushing his way through the few others that littered the back, fleeing towards the open door. He knew that figure anywhere, despite the mask that covered his face. Bilbo Baggins. Thorin's breathing hitched and then when the whispers of his people caught his ears he cleared his throat.

"Now we can rest easy in the knowledge that once again we are home, we are safe and we are well!" Thorin said, pasting a smile upon his face with practiced ease. "Let there be music, eat, drink and be merry my fellow dwarves!"

With that said the crowd dispersed once more, talking loudly amongst themselves. Thorin seized the moment, slipped his mask back down over his features and began pushing through the crowd towards where he had seen Bilbo. He would not allow his burglar to run from him, there was so much left unsaid and too many stray ends that could fragment his heart should he not speak with him. Why would Bilbo run from him? Thorin gritted his teeth and pushed harder, he knew exactly why Bilbo ran. He had of course threatened to throw the hobbit from the walls of Erebor for the theft of the Arkenstone. Thorin wanted something much more precious than any shiny gem.

He refused to lose it twice.

-x-

Bilbo had hovered at the bag of the crowd with Balin, watching as a lone figure made its way to the front of the room. Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain. Bilbo's heart gave a painful lurch as he came into full view. His mask was sleek and mottled with black, grey and white fur. It had a pointed snout and small ears. Unlike Bifur's badger mask this was rounder and Bilbo realised what it was. A wolf mask, like the ones found in the Moria mountain ranges. Appropriate. Alpha males of the wolves were vicious, loyal and stubborn. In a word, they were Thorin. Then the mask fell away and Bilbo's breathing caught. There he was. Thorin was as handsome as he remembered, braided neat beard and deep blue eyes that looked as though they had been cut from the sapphires hoarded in the mines of Erebor.

Thorin began to speak and Bilbo zoned out, not really paying attention to what was being said. He could do nothing but stare silently at Thorin, the dwarf he had written letter after letter begging for forgiveness. The dwarf he still had nightmares about, watching him fall under the blades of orcs and goblins. The dwarf he dreamed of late at night with whispers, heated flesh and loving touches. The dwarf he had betrayed. Suddenly Bilbo found he could not be in this place anymore. His heart was aching and he could tell by Thorin's stance that the King had clearly forgotten about him, despite what he had been told. Bilbo should have known really, it really was time for him to return to the Shire as he had planned.

It was sealed when Thorin said, much to his pain, "We made mistakes, once Smaug had been defeated. We – no, I allowed myself to be taken in by something that could have spelt the end for our great home were it not for the actions of our burglar" he announced.

Bilbo fled.

He ran faster than he had ever thought possible. Past Balin who reached out to him. Past Dwalin and Ori who merely looked astonished as he whipped past. Away from the calls of Bofur and Nori. He ran for he could not bear to hear his name mentioned in hatred amongst the halls of Erebor. He would not survive it he knew. He ran down the stairs of the courtyard and found himself in a large garden, filled with small shrubs and a large tree at its centre. To the tree is where he ran, zipping around behind its large trunk and sinking down at its roots, breathing hard and holding back the dry sobs that threatened to burst forth.

"My eyes and ears did not deceive me" a soft voice murmured. One he knew all too well from his dreams, from his nightmares. Bilbo staggered to his feet and turned. "You are here, Bilbo Baggins" said Thorin Oakenshield, removing his mask as he did so.

"Only to say my last farewell" Bilbo said woodenly. He had rehearsed this speech over and over again. He could say it. He would!

"Do you fear me?"

"I . . . what?"

Thorin moved forward, reaching out for Bilbo's mask and removing it. The spark of hurt that went across the king's face when Bilbo recoiled was something that the hobbit could have lived without seeing. "So you do fear me. It is no more than I deserve" Thorin said shamefully, dropping the mask into Bilbo's hands. "You were the bravest of us all and I threatened to throw you from the top of this very mountain"

"An adept punishment for my own betrayal" Bilbo said coldly. He turned away; just looking at Thorin caused him pain.

"Then perhaps I should throw myself over these walls"

"What . . ."

"I betrayed you did I not? The contract states that the leader of the Company shall not threaten the lives of any under his care" Thorin explained, turning his own mask over and over in his hands. "I broke contract and, worse, I broke your trust – that which I had worked so hard to earn in the first place"

"I rather think I worked harder to earn yours" Bilbo spat.

He glared at Thorin, only to see a resigned smile on the face of a once stubborn king. "You saved my life, many times over. I know it was you who slew Azog at the Battle of the Five Armies. It was you who dragged Fili, bleeding and injured, to safety. You who threatened to tie Kili up if he did not stay with his brother. And it was you, Bilbo Baggins who garnered the help of the elves, who distrust us greatly, for medical help for a dwarf who had shown you little kindness"

"I fulfilled my side of the contract, nothing more, nothing less"

"No!" Thorin said sharply, surging forward. He stopped short when Bilbo pressed himself flush against the tree. "Even in my darkest hour you would still have thrown yourself upon that blade had it meant my survival"

"I did" Bilbo corrected. "I have the scar to prove it" he added, a hint of a challenge in his voice.

Thorin's face nearly crumpled and he slumped, a shell of his former self. Pity surged into Bilbo and he wanted to reach out, to make sure that Thorin would not fade from his sight. "So you are injured because of me and your spirit, that which so attracted me in the first place, has vanished from my sight" he muttered. "And I deserve every last bit of it"

Did he just say attracted, Bilbo wondered. He shook his head, as though clearing it of water. "The gold sickness tainted your mind" he said softly. "You became a shell of your former self, much as you are now Thorin Oakenshield. Have you allowed the treasure to take your mind once more?"

"Nothing in that treasure chamber shall ever hold my mind for more than a second" Thorin replied forcefully. "There are greater things upon this land then gold and silver my hobbit"

"I know that, do you?" Bilbo asked sharply. He called me his hobbit, his mind screamed.

This time Thorin stepped forward and Bilbo did not flinch. He merely stared Thorin down, defiance in his eyes and determination in his posture. He was not afraid of the dwarf king, make no mistake. Rather he was afraid for the dwarf king. Bilbo refused to watch Thorin become sick with greed anymore. But when the dark haired dwarf bent his head and gently kissed him Bilbo panicked, eyes flaring open at the soft lips upon his own.

When Thorin drew back and caught sight of the shock in Bilbo's eyes he laughed mirthlessly. "Do you now understand little hobbit?" he asked hoarsely, stepping back and running his hands through his hair. "I could have very well thrown away the key to my soul; in fact I would go as far as to say that I have. None but you shall ever hold my affection, no precious gem or earthly metal is worth as much"

Bilbo's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He had thought, at one time, that perhaps Thorin did feel for him but to hear it from the object of his affection was surreal. It appeared that Kili, Fili and Balin had been right after all. But Bilbo, try as he might, could not shake the hurt. The pain in Thorin's eyes was like daggers in Bilbo's soul, the guilt festering within the dwarf was causing Bilbo pain. He wanted to hug Thorin close and never let go and yet . . .

Bilbo slipped his hand into the pocket of his long over coat and drew out a leather pouch, pulling at the drawstring and upending the contents into his hand. Thorin gasped as the great Arkenstone of Erebor fell out into the hobbit's hand and began twinkling in the moonlight. Bilbo extended his hand.

"This belongs to you my king" he said softly. If Thorin took it now then Bilbo would leave for the Shire. Failing that, he had no idea where this would go. "I have no need for priceless riches"

"The Arkenstone" Thorin breathed. He shook his head and then groaned. Then he reached out a shaking hand and took the stone from Bilbo's hand. That single movement broke Bilbo's heart into tiny fragments, as though a rock had been thrown through a window. "The great heart of Erebor" Thorin continued, holding it at eye level. Bilbo could not stop the tears and closed his eyes against the sight.

His eyes flashed open once more when a loud splash echoed throughout the night. Thorin was standing a few feet away, at the bank of the nearby pond, watching as the Arkenstone sank into the depths of the water body. Bilbo gasped, running forward to stand side by side with the dwarf.

"Thorin that is your most prized possession!" he exclaimed.

"Nay little hobbit, that title belongs to you" Thorin returned. He sighed, closing his eyes. When he turned to Bilbo his eyes were open once more and damp with moisture. He reached out a thumb and brushed away Bilbo's own tears. "I do not expect you to ever forgive and forget my burglar, but remember this. You are the light of my darkened path, make no mistake"

"Thorin . . ." Bilbo breathed. "The letters!" he exclaimed. "If you had read my letters . . ."

"I locked them away. I feared that they would warn me away from your presence"

Bilbo gaped at him then, quite to his surprise, surged forward, grabbed Thorin by his tunic and pulled his head down to kiss him fiercely. Thorin did not pull back but instead, wrapped his arm around the small of Bilbo's back and pulled him into a deeper embrace. Bilbo mewled when Thorin's tongue grazed his lips and he allowed entrance, toying with Thorin's tongue using his own. When they broke apart for oxygen, Bilbo flicked Thorin's nose. The great King of Erebor let out a strangled noise and pouted at Bilbo, something that the hobbit found most adorable.

"What was that for?"

"For not reading my letters and for drinking yourself blind using your grandfather's stash of decade old ale" Bilbo chastised. When Thorin stared at him incredulously Bilbo glared. "Do you even know what aged ale can do to a person, especially one who cannot hold their liquor!?"

"You've been talking to Balin" Thorin groaned, relaxing slightly.

"I've been talking to everyone" Bilbo corrected with a raised eyebrow.

"Your mask is appropriate my hobbit"

Bilbo chuckled. "I did not understand it myself until Beorn explained its significance. I guess I truly am a caracal of the Western Plains"

"They viciously protect those closes to them, naturally that is you" Thorin said softly.

Bilbo's mask was indeed that of a caracal. The smaller felines lived in the deserts of the Western Plains, with pointed ears and small snouts. They were often dusty red in colour or a pale brown, the latter in this case for Bilbo. The ears of the mask were triangular and quite large, with black tips at the top. Bilbo was quite proud of this mask.

They were silent for a moment before Thorin leaned down and kissed him hungrily, biting slightly at Bilbo's lower lip. The king pulled away to stare hopefully at the hobbit. "Stay in Erebor" he whispered, tracing Bilbo's jawline with his fingers. "Allow me to court you publicly" he pleaded. "If you return now I do not think I could handle it"

Bilbo flicked his nose again. "That was the most foolish thing I've ever heard" he admonished. He smiled. "I will stay, under one condition"

"Name it!"

"You explain to me what exactly is the difference between courting and this so called public courting" Bilbo said, looking vexed.

Thorin chuckled, ducking his head to kiss Bilbo again. They drew apart when a cough could be heard and Thorin released Bilbo and turned to face their interrupter. A man stood there, cloaked in black and holding a thin, dangerous blade in one hand. In one quick sweep he had brought the handle of the blade flying upwards in an uppercut that floored Thorin, who had not been expecting the blow. Bilbo let out a cry and flew to Thorin's side, whose cheek was now bleeding.

"Apologies for the interruption, your majesty" the man drawled sarcastically. "But tonight you shall meet your end"