And again, y'all have blown me away with all the good feeling for the last chapter! Thank you!

All of them had finally emerged from their beds by lunch, gathering around the huge table as a group and enjoying the food, though it was served by sheep and dogs. Of Beorn, there was no sign.

That suited Bilbo. He was tired of the "little bunny" remarks. And the food was good, hot, satisfying, and quite able to be tossed across the table if the mood struck. Which it did, and often, with all of them trying to land something in Bombur's mouth. Even Bilbo took a turn, missing by a fair distance but still managing to bring a laugh from everyone.

The Dwarves, to a one, seemed to be amazed at how well the little burglar was now accepting their behavior. He had seemed such a fussy little thing at first, and now he was settling into their ways.

Bofur, of course, won the tossing match and everyone laughed uproariously. And everyone had noticed the neat, tidy way his hair was done, the silver clasps, and suddenly Bifur was signing furiously at Bofur, who rose and went outside followed quickly by the toymaker.

"Slow down!" Bofur exclaimed when Bifur spun him in place and started signing again. What few words he had seemed to have deserted him completely and he was relying on the iglishmek for communication. "What are you on about, then?"

::You shouldn't be with him.:: Bifur's face reflected his shock and his hands indicated the clasps on Bofur's now neat and tidy braids. ::He's not decent folk.::

"Nori? How kin ye say that?" Bofur was a bit confused. He'd been taking care of both Bifur and Bombur for some time, and to have his cousin start in like this was unusual to say the least.

::He's a thief. Not trustworthy. He'll use you and leave.:: Bifur's signs were deliberate, as though he wanted no misunderstandings between them.

"No. He won't." Bofur didn't know how to explain it. "He's honorable, in his own way. Yeah, he's a thief. But he's – I don't know how t'make ye understand."

::Try.::

Bofur considered carefully. He didn't want to upset his kin any more than they already were. He knew Bombur was upset as well; but he'd never say anything himself. Not to Bofur, who'd risked everything to keep them fed and housed for a long time. His brother didn't feel it was his place. But he would have said something to Bifur, and that would have sent his cousin into this state.

"It's – complicated," he said finally. "But he's not like ye think. He's steady an he's true. He keeps his word. An he's here, on this quest, which should say somethin." Bofur considered for a moment more before playing his last trick. "An he's m'One, Bifur. I can't change that, no more'n I could fly."

Bifur nodded silently before looking down, obviously thinking. ::You have such a big heart. It makes you always think the best of people. Are you sure that's not what's happening here? How can you trust him?::

"B'cause he's never lied t'me. He's kept his word t'me. He's kept his word t'Thorin." Nori had told him why he'd come on the quest, why he had answered Thorin's call. "He stole stuff from me t'start with, sure. But he gave it back, too. It was just a game with him. An he hasn't stolen anythin from anyone else in the Company. An if it's courage ye think he lacks, ye should really think agin. He fought just as hard as the rest o' us in those goblin tunnels, an he is bloody fierce about protectin Ori."

::You said he's your One.:: Bifur shook his head. ::I hear what you are saying to me. I hear your reasons. But what I don't hear is how you FEEL.::

"What do ye want me t'say, Bif?" Bofur's voice was harsh. "I'd die fer him. An he'd die fer me. That's all that matters t'me."

::Then there is nothing more to say, except to wish you well.:: Bifur smiled at him then, a bit sadly, but a smile nonetheless. ::You love him. That's enough. But if he hurts you, I will hurt him. Badly.:: He clapped Bofur on the shoulder and they went back inside.

(That evening)

Bilbo waylaid Thorin that night after they'd had the evening meal, heading off the Dwarf before he could disappear up the stairs and lock his door to suffer in silence. "You need your dressings changed," he said simply as he planted himself firmly in Thorin's path and refused to budge. "And I know for a fact you won't allow anyone else to do it. You've even been avoiding Oín, and he's seen them as well as I have. So, your Majesty, I'm going to change them for you, whether you like it or not."

Thorin blinked. Then he scowled. "I am perfectly capable of changing my own bandages, Master Hobbit, and I'll thank you to remember it," he growled as he attempted to shrug past the startled burglar. Bilbo, however, was having none of it.

He planted both feet and put his hands on his hips, glaring at Thorin with thinly veiled fury. "I'm quite sure you can, Thorin Oakenshield, but you made a promise to me and I intend to see you keep it." He put a gentle hand on Thorin's chest, oblivious to the stares of the others where they sat at the table. "And unless you want me to noise that promise about," he said softly, "then you will do as I say and let me do this for you."

The scowl darkened until Thorin remembered exactly what that promise was and he sighed. "Very well, since you insist. Come along then." And he headed up the stairs, followed by a very pleased Halfling.

Bilbo had expected a bit more resistance, to be honest. Thorin was nothing if not stubborn, and he was completely set on keeping the truth of his injuries from the others. The idiot wasn't stopping to consider that they had ALL seen how badly he'd been mauled firsthand. It just hadn't occurred to him. But once they were inside Thorin's room with the door closed firmly behind them, he understood.

Thorin had hold of him, pulling him close to kiss him gently. "I had not forgotten that oath, Bilbo, believe me," he said quietly when they parted. "I believe I promised you soft sheets, a warm bed, and time. Tending my injuries doesn't quite fit into that."

"Not quite, no, but it ensures that we will have them soon enough," Bilbo countered softly as he began plucking at the laces of Thorin's tunic. "We have them all right now, but not the ability to use them," he stated practically as he worked the garment over the Dwarf's head, mindful of those horrid bruises and bites. "Those look positively agonizing and I'll not have it said a Baggins didn't care for his lover's comfort." His eyes flew upward again to Thorin's face and he colored. "Well, that's – I mean, if – oh, dear."

Thorin chuckled quietly as he rested his forehead against Bilbo's. "Peace, Halfling, it WILL happen," he said softly. "If not now, then soon. But I believe you wished to tend these first." He stepped back regretfully and gestured to the bandages around his chest.

Bilbo nodded and went to the table where Oín had thoughtfully left medical supplies. Thorin's voice, when pitched that low, sent chills down his spine. "Then let's get those changed, shall we? Because I've plans for you." But when he turned back, he had to catch his breath.

Thorin sat on the side of the bed, shirtless as Bilbo had left him, and he'd removed the old bandages without complaint though Bilbo was suddenly certain he'd had to pry some of them loose. His wounds were visibly improved, though there was still a bit of seepage from a couple of the bites. It would have made the cloth stick a bit and was undoubtedly painful to pull them free. But Thorin had said nothing.

That wasn't what made him breathless, though. It was the sight of Thorin, shirtless, patiently waiting for HIM. It was the sight of that broad expanse of skin, covered with dark hair, weathered and scarred and still beautiful. Muscles played just under the surface, rippling with each breath, and Bilbo was quite simply spellbound.

He pulled himself back to his task with some effort. He had to make an effort to settle his breathing, especially after he touched that skin. It was deceptively soft and he had to steel himself to be able to use the salve Oin had left and cover it up with the bandages. It seemed a shame to cover such a beautiful thing, truly, and he couldn't resist dropping a soft kiss just above Thorin's heart.

Thorin gasped in surprise before hauling Bilbo up, pulling the startled Hobbit across his lap and kissing him soundly. Bilbo, in turn, moved upward to straddle Thorin's hips, responding to the kiss and working his hands into that mane of dark hair, gently massaging the scalp even as he pressed himself eagerly against his Dwarf. Thorin pulled back reluctantly, trying to control his own breathing, and rested his forehead against Bilbo's.

"Always you surprise me," he murmured without opening his eyes. "No one, not lovers, not friends, no one has ever touched my heart the way you have. No one has ever come to me as you have, willing to argue with me, shout at me, demand from me, without a thought for my station or what I could bring to them. No one – NO ONE – has ever loved me as you do. And that you love me, I have no doubt. Your kiss upon my heart – it is branded into my soul. And I will try to be worthy of such love and affection."

Bilbo couldn't speak at first. The things Thorin said, the way he spoke the words, they touched him down deep inside in a way he'd never thought he'd feel. And his voice, it still had the power to turn him into jelly with one word. But then the reality of it settled in. He pressed a chaste kiss against Thorin's lips, then cradled his love's face in his hands, watching him as he finally gathered the courage to speak.

"Yes, I love you. I think I have since you came into my house and called me a grocer." He put a finger to Thorin's lips when the other would have spoken. "I'm not finished, Thorin. I can only speak plain, like I always have. I love you. I always will. And that said... you've gone white, love. You're hurting so you should rest. Do you need the medicine?" Suddenly Bilbo felt a little guilty. Their actions a few minutes ago might have caused part of this pain and he'd not hurt Thorin for the world.

"The only thing I need, little Hobbit, is you." Thorin pulled him in close again as he lay down on the bed. "Stay."

Bilbo wrapped himself up in Thorin's arms, snuggling closer. "I'd like nothing more," he murmured as he rested his head against Thorin's heartbeat. "Good night, Thorin."