Dwalin woke the next morning to sunlight pooling through the tightly woven holes in the tent.

Bilbo still slept beside him, one arm tucked under his torso and the other resting on Dwalin's chest. His chest rose and fell easier than it did the night before, though the skin around his eyes were still noticeably puffy.

Dwalin ran his hand through Bilbo's coppery curls. His thumb brushed against the pointed pinna of Bilbo's ear. Bilbo groaned, mumbling under his breath and pressing closer to Dwalin's torso. His hand moved down to Bilbo's back, lightly stroking it.

Bilbo opened his eyes, only to close them, groaning again.

"Awake?"

"Sadly, yes. Wish I weren't. I'm still mad at you."

Dwalin figured as much. He traced circles in Bilbo's lower back. "It was difficult enough getting you to stop yelling. Gives me an idea of how long it might take to get back on your good side."

Bilbo's hand grasped at Dwalin's jerkin, his knuckles white from the tight hold. Dwalin pried his hand off and kissed his fingers. "Do you intend to return to the mountain?" Bilbo asked.

"No," Dwalin promised. "Belated or not, I'm here to stay. I'm not so easy to get rid of."

Bilbo sat up, his hand still grasped in Dwalin's. He stared at him, as though trying to read his mind and sift truth from lie. He leaned down, pressing his mouth to Dwalin's. He slipped his tongue out to beg entrance which Dwalin obliged—

"Bilbo?" The flap flew open and Gandalf stepped in. He paused, staring at them. "My apologies," he said, moving back out. "We'll discuss our tactic later." The flap fell back down.

"Tactic?" Dwalin asked, getting up. Bilbo followed. They left the tent. "Wizard, what do you mean tactic?"

Gandalf harrumphed.

"Thorin is still being stubborn," Bard sighed, crossing his arms.

"His pride is wounded," Dwalin snapped. "Of course he's going to be stubborn. It will be a long time before he decides to dare attempt anything close to peace talk."

"We do not have time. Dain has already arrived," Thranduil said. Dwalin glared at him. Thranduil shifted his gaze to him. "Perhaps you could make your companions see reason?"

"You're mistaking me for my brother, Elf." Dwalin crossed his arms, snarling at Thranduil. Bilbo grabbed his forearm, urging him to relax.

"What does that mean, Dain's arrived?"

"It means we are facing a battle for the gold," Thranduil answered.

"I beg your pardon, your majesty, but what is your stake in the claim?" Bilbo asked.

Thranduil studied him. "You are who bested my prison?"

"I am."

The Elvenking did not move for a long time, appraising Bilbo. "My forest is dying and nearly dead, Hobbit. My people cannot stay there. We make for the forests of the West and South. Already my son resides in the halls of Elrond and I mean to join him. However, I have longed for Valinor. Their call is strong and it is best I go now. The journey is long and, like the Dwarves of Erebor many years ago, our home is robbed of us. We need the gold to provide for ourselves. We are a proud people—"

"Our people," Dwalin snarled, "called on you for aid and you did not grant it."

"I did not help rid the dragon. Had your people come to the Greenwood instead of go a-wandering, I would have been quite willing to give them aid. We are sensible. Not cruel."

"Throwing a company of starving Dwarves in prison—"

"My people are frightened!" Thranduil barked. "A Dwarf, even a company of thirteen Dwarves, put them on edge when spiders had been stealing our families from their homes, draining them of blood, killing them…what would you have had me do? What would your king have done? I am not your enemy. I never have been. Had your kings swallowed their pride and think that through, we would not be having this conversation at this moment when there is a battle imminent!"*

Bilbo patted Dwalin's arm. "He's got a point, Dwalin. No one is fool enough to face a Dragon. Well, except a Hobbit and thirteen vagabond Dwarves."

"And Bard," Gandalf said.

Bard shrugged, smiling. "I am here, am I not? Clearly it's not that foolish or undoable."

"No. Clearly not." Gandalf walked away.

"Where are you going?" Bard asked.

"To see if there is anything to be done that will stop this madness before it escalates to war."

Bilbo shrugged. "Not the first time he's walked off. Honestly, I hope he can stop it. I gave the Arkenstone to you to stop this battle. Load of good that did."

Bard shifted his gaze to Dwalin, frowning. Dwalin glared back. Their fight the night before had not been as quiet as it had been.

Thranduil squeezed Bard's shoulder. "Let them be," he whispered. "Your thoughts on the manner of their relationship will only make it worse." Bard walked away, returning to a tent where a table and map resided. Thranduil spared them a final glance and joined Bard.

Bilbo headed back to his tent and Dwalin followed. Once inside, Dwalin wrapped his arms around Bilbo, pulling him close. He hoped, even prayed, Bilbo would forgive him sooner than he might at this moment. "Are you hungry?" Bilbo asked a moment or two later, pulling out of his embrace to pick up his coat.

"I am, but I think there are more pressing matters at hand."

"There are, but what use would it be to discuss those matters on an empty stomach?" Bilbo fixed the coats clasps. "Once we eat, we can talk."

Dwalin decided it would be unwise to argue. He carried his cloak in his hand, following Bilbo out of the tent again to find something to eat. Those who had overheard them last night shied away from them. Those who didn't welcomed Bilbo, giving Dwalin curious glances. Despite the conversation and merry laughter, breakfast felt far too somber where Dwalin stood. Bilbo ate silently, without a word, eyes cast on his plate and almost lifeless.

Dwalin reached out to take his hand…

The horn blew. Bilbo looked up. "What was that?" he asked.

"Dain's arrived," Dwalin answered. "Battle is here, whether we wish it or not."

Bilbo set his utensils down. "Best ready for war, then." He stood, walking out.

Dwalin sighed. Of all the rotten luck. He followed Bilbo back.

"We need to talk and I refuse to go to war without being somewhat reconciled!" he barked back in their tent. "I know you are angry. I do not blame you for being angry. Bilbo, I will fight. I don't know if you will, but I will not go and face death again not knowing if I will see you again or not being at peace with you."

Bilbo stared at him. He sighed. "I was thinking the same and I intend to go to battle as well, and yet I do not know if my heart is ready to grant any peace. It had only been a scant few hours since I was afraid for my life—and of someone I believed was my friend." Dwalin sat on the cot. Bilbo wet his lips, eyes glossy. "I couldn't find it in me to scream, I was so afraid. The whole time I wondered why you were doing nothing to stop Thorin and I thought I must mean so little to…to you…to Balin…to…to everyone if they were willing to stand aside and let Thorin…I really thought you were all going to let him kill me."

Dwalin closed his eyes, bowing his head. "I cannot change what happened," he began, daring to look up at Bilbo again. "It is done. And I thank all the forces of good in this world for Gandalf staying Thorin's hand. I failed you. I know I failed you. I felt a fear I never felt before seeing the one I called my best friend threatening your life. Were Thorin a foe, I'd have killed him. I love you and I love Thorin. He is my shield-brother and my king. What would have had me do?"

"I do not know, but I would never ask you to kill Thorin," Bilbo said. "I know the two of you are close and I would not ask that of you. I would not ask that of anyone. I do understand, or I try to understand, why you could not move. But I thought I was valued more than that."

"You are. Bilbo, you are."

"But I'm not, am I? No matter what I've done. No matter how many times I've proven my worth, I'm not what any of the Company wanted in a burglar and now I've done something that everyone has deemed worthy of banishment. They call me traitor and deceiver and thief…" Bilbo's hand reached for the braid in his hair, petting the strands between his fingers.

"Sanâzyung," Dwalin began, standing. He approached Bilbo and took his hand in his, kissing it. "Sanghivasha. Sankumath. You always ever only meant well. And we have known that for a long time. The journey has been hard on all of us. You more than the rest of us and you have been the bravest of us, Sanmizim." Bilbo did not lift his head. Nor did he make a move to distance himself from Dwalin. "I love you, Bilbo," Dwalin kissed Bilbo's hand. "I love you, Ghivasha, my One."

"I know," Bilbo said. He bit his lip. "I love you too, which only makes what happened hurt so much more than it would have otherwise. I want to be reconciled with you, but I cannot…I don't know if I can forgive you or anyone in the company for this. Not this time and certainly not this soon."

The horn blew again. The battle would begin at any moment.

"We should get there before the battle starts."

"Bilbo—"

"What would you have me do?" he asked, lifting his head to look at Dwalin. "Say I forgive you and that all is in the past? Any other misdeed, any other wrong, and I would have forgiven you immediately! But this?! How can I forgive this?! How can I find reconciliation with any of the Company? With Thorin? With you?! I loved you! I still love you! And yet you ask me to do what I cannot in good conscience do! Not at this time! I know you do not want to go to battle unforgiven, but how can I grant any forgiveness when my heart is so heavy with the betrayal I feel?"

Dwalin stared at Bilbo. "Then we must survive the battle," he decided, "Because I refuse to die with the present dilemma unresolved."

Bilbo nodded, averting his gaze. They focused on something beside the cot. He pulled away from Dwalin and seized his dagger, glowing in blue light.

Khuzdul: "perfect love," "perfect treasure," "perfect song," "perfect jewel," "treasure."

*Head-cannon for Thranduil: Okay, so despite the fact that he's a party-king, I believe that Thranduil is a very sensible and able ruler. He isn't a dick or a douche bag like a lot of people make him out to be (I mean, c'mon! Legolas is his son and Legolas is awesome). Now going against a dragon after it had taken over a mountain filled with gold and driving its people out of the land is a bad move especially if half an army has already been wiped out. He made the decision that did not have a body count. He is described by Bilbo as a "great king" meaning he's wise, shrewd, and good. His kingdom (the greenwood) is decaying and being overtaken by spiders. Once safe routes and smaller villages within the realm are being destroyed and his people killed and eaten. Everyone is panicking. It is his job to make sure they believe he knows what he's doing. Remember Théoden's words to Aragorn in The Two Towers: "What would you have me do? Look at my men. Their courage hangs by a thread." He makes the choices he believes are best for his people and continues to do so. It would be unwise to be trusting of a group of Dwarves (or even Men or other Elves) who come into his kingdom unannounced and caught by his guards, especially if they don't tell him why they are in his forest