Once they were dressed, Thorin and Bilbo walked left Bilbo's bedroom hoping that the awkwardness of the night before would remain there. It did not. It followed them, permeating the air around them and seemed to seep into their very pores and fill them with anxiety. They both knew that they could not continue ignoring the tension between them, but neither wanted to be the one to bring up the past and start the inevitable argument, so they both said nothing as they began to prepare to cook breakfast.

Even with the tension that was palpable between Thorin and himself, Bilbo had to smile at the sight of his nephew sleeping in the kitchen surrounded by dwarves. Poor Frodo would have quite a start when he woke and realized that Bofur was using his leg as pillow and that Balin had stolen most of his blanket while Dwalin had apparently decided that Frodo looked enough like his wife to merit a cuddle. The dwarves wouldn't care, but Frodo, who had always slept alone, was sure to be nearly as shocked as Bilbo had been the first time he had awoken in the pile of dwarves if not more so. It might do the lad good, if the shock of that on top of the shocks of the day before didn't kill him.

"They seem to like him," Thorin whispered quietly in Bilbo's ear as he watched the hobbit stare at his nephew. Bilbo only smiled. He wished that they had taken to him near as quick as they seemed to have taken to Frodo. It would have made the first part of the quest easier. Thorin sighed when Bilbo said nothing. He had hoped that they could have a civil conversation and that the nephew Bilbo was so fond of might have provided the topic, but it seemed it was not to be.

Thorin did not try to start a conversation again, and neither did Bilbo. The two of them finished the preparations for a large breakfast and began to cook it.

"I'll need to go to the market today," Bilbo said suddenly. "Feeding two hobbits and four dwarves . . . my poor pantry is not big enough for this." Thorin laughed quietly. It was one of the largest pantries he had ever seen in a single-family home and Bilbo thought it would not be large enough. His laugh quieted as he remembered how much hobbits and dwarves were capable of eating. They did need to shop soon.

"I can come with you," Thorin offered. "It will let us buy more supplies so we do not have to go again soon. I'd also like to see if there are any spirits stronger than ale to be had in this town."

"Don't waste your time, lad," Balin mumbled. The sound of voices and the smells of food had roused him from sleep. "Hobbits don't know how to drink. That is something else we will have to remedy when we move here. We will have to set up a dwarven distillery if we want anything stronger than water."

"Our ale is not water," Bilbo said glaring at the semi-conscious dwarf. "It is sufficiently stout for a good evening without causing a bad morning." He could still remember the time that Balin had given him dwarven ale that he had promised was not strong . . . and the horrific headache he had had the next morning. He knew that dwarves had thick skulls, but if that was what it took to penetrate them he had no desire to see what they considered "strong."

"May as well be," Balin muttered opening an eye to glance at the hobbit that was standing over him. He didn't bother to suppress his smile as Bilbo looked up at Thorin beseechingly. Thorin sighed as he saw the look. He knew that the hobbit was not asking for help in the argument, but rather for Thorin to end it. He had wanted to wait until after breakfast, but now was as good a time as any.

"About the settlement," Thorin said with a sigh, "I believe it would be best if you held off on planning anything concrete until after the party. Bilbo has promised me that he will have his decision by then. Now," he said holding up a hand to stall the protest he could see forming in Balin's eyes, "I am not telling you to stop planning, I am simply saying that you are not to break ground or to send for belongings or family until we are sure this is a good idea."

"Of course it's a good idea!" Balin said a little more loudly than necessary at the suggestion that he had come up with a bad plan. It especially stung when he considered that he had never once questioned Thorin's plan to reclaim Erebor aloud—even if he had doubted they would survive the experience. This was much less fraught with peril. Bilbo aside, he didn't think hobbits in general were dangerous. Even if they didn't want them there, odds were that all that would come of it would be a few glares and mutterings.

Even had he decided to say any of this to the pair—which he never would have—he never got the chance. At the louder sound of his voice, Frodo awoke and—in his surprise at being a pillow and at having Dwalin's arm around his middle—gave a loud squeak so reminiscent of the first time Bilbo had woken up in Thorin's arms that the two shared a soft smile before they tried to referee the brewing fight before it destroyed Bilbo's home.

"—Do not recall giving you permission to do that!" Frodo was saying to the shocked Dwalin with his eyes wide. "Nor did you ask first. I was not aware that though protecting my ears I would be violated in other ways."

"We did not violate you, lad. It was a mere cuddle. Nothing more," Dwalin said as he tried to cover his smile. Perhaps Bilbo really was a normal hobbit. They had had a similar conversation many years before. He had always assumed that Bilbo only claimed to be normal but now . . .

"Are all of you hobbits so fussy and prudish?" Dwalin asked cutting off Frodo's insistence that it was still a violation, mere cuddle or not. Frodo gaped at him like a fish, while Bilbo—who was much more accustomed to dwarves—smiled as he saw a means of potentially convincing the dwarves that they did not want to stay in Hobbiton.

"Actually, he is much less fussy and prudish than most," Bilbo replied. "After living with me for so long he is a little more accepting that the vast majority of hobbits. Are you sure that you still want to live here?" Thorin shot him a look as he realized what Bilbo was up to. However he said nothing, choosing instead to sit back and see how Bilbo liked the answer to such a question. He knew that it would be entertaining.

"They cannot possibly be worse than you were when we first met you," Bofur said nudging Frodo affectionately while he looked at Bilbo. "Do you know what your uncle did when he first met us?"

"Before or after he fainted?" Dwalin asked smiling at the memory and marveling at the change in the hobbit that the quest had wrought. He had quickly gone from fussy and nearly useless to proving his worth time and time again. Bilbo Baggins had been an excellent fourteenth member even if he never became much of a fighter.

"He fainted?" Frodo asked with wide eyes, his wounded sensibilities forgotten at hearing aspects of the story he had never heard before. Bilbo had always glossed over the arrival of the dwarves, preferring to pick up once they were at the trolls rather than at the beginning and always stopping before the end. He was so excited by the prospect of hearing the rest of the story that he failed to notice that his uncle was seething once more.

"Oh yes!" Balin replied with a laugh. "Just keeled right over with the loudest shriek I had ever heard in my life. No one even threatened him. We had only just presented him with a contract, nothing more."

"Yes," Bilbo cut in angrily. "To my credit, the contract did list all the ways that I could die that were not covered by more than funeral expenses and they did consist of incineration if memory serves."

"We all signed that contract," Bofur said gesturing at Bilbo dismissively. "And none of us fainted, did we Thorin?" Thorin sighed before he answered. He did not want to get involved in this. He could see no answer that he could give that would not anger someone or be a lie.

"No," he finally said when it was apparent that he could not abstain, "however, to be fair, you did all know of the risks before you were presented with the contract." The dwarves rolled their eyes at his answer.

"You would say that," Dwalin muttered glaring at the ex-king. Thorin only shrugged in response but did not reply. He had learned that there were times it was best to remain silent.

"The fainting aside," Bofur said to move the story along once more, "do you know what he was worried about once we actually got him out of the house." Frodo shook his head and looked around eagerly while Bilbo glared warningly at Bofur and Thorin gave him the minutest of headshakes to tell him not to say it.

"I remember!" Balin said with another laugh. "His handkerchief! He had run out the door without it and was upset that he would have to go on a quest without it."

"He didn't have anything else either," Dwalin chimed in mirth dancing in his eyes. "No cloak, no change of clothes, no provisions. It was a good thing that we were well outfitted before the mountain pass or he never would have made it even as far as Rivendell. I had never met such a fussy creature in all my life."

At his words, Bilbo's eyes filled with rage and he spun towards the front door, pausing only to grab his pipe off the table before he stormed out the front door slamming it behind him. Silence followed his exit. It was eventually broken by a sigh from Thorin.

"Breakfast is on the table," he said shortly before placing two portions on plates and following Bilbo out the door.

"Lads," Balin said sadly once both of them were gone. "I think we may have gone too far this time." No one said anything but the shame in the room was tangible. They hadn't meant to upset Bilbo. Even so, they had and they had no idea what they could do to make it right.

ooOO88OOoo

Outside Bilbo was sitting in his garden, where this whole mess had started sixty years ago and smoking his pipe angrily. He knew that they had meant no harm, and generally their words would not have upset him so, but he was on edge from everything that had happened. The question of what to do about his and Thorin's relationship and his own confused emotions on the subject needed an outlet and the dwarves, and their teasing, had provided one. He knew that he would feel remorse for his burst of temper later, but now he just wanted to let his anger flow.

"Confounded dwarves!" he muttered to himself. "Coming in and taking over my life and my home again! A curse on them all. Useless things!"

"Do you truly feel that way?" Thorin asked quietly from behind him. Bilbo jumped at his words and turned to see the dwarf standing a little ways away holding two plates and looking hurt. "Are we useless?" He knew that Bilbo had not meant his words, but they stung all the same. He had thought the same things about himself so many times and to hear them from the hobbit—with all the raw emotions between them—was too much.

"No," Bilbo replied deflating as he thought about what he had said. "Dwarves aren't useless. You aren't useless. I'm just frustrated. I'm sorry." Thorin smiled but said nothing in answer to his apology and felt his shoulder droop slightly when Bilbo turned back to look at the flowers. He had hoped that Bilbo would invite him over, but he didn't want to encroach on the angry hobbit's space.

"I brought breakfast," Thorin said softly. "You ran out without it."

"Thank you," Bilbo replied blowing out smoke before glancing at Thorin once more.

"So I'll just leave it here, shall I" Thorin asked leaning forward to set the plate beside Bilbo and preparing to return to the house.

"You can stay," Bilbo said looking up at him with sad eyes. "If you want." Thorin smiled widely at the words. Even if it wasn't the declaration of love that he had been hoping for, it was something. He sat down next to Bilbo on the bench and closed his eyes as he filled his nostrils with the familiar smell of pipe smoke. It was a smell that he associated with Bilbo and many fond memories of nights they had spent talking together.

"Thank you," Thorin said honestly and handed the plate to Bilbo who nodded. They sat in silence eating their breakfast and looking at Bilbo's flowers. It was almost a companionable silence and neither of them wanted to be the one to break it.

"You know," Bilbo eventually said turning his head to look at Thorin once more, "I think we are making it more complicated than this needs to be."

"What do you mean?" Thorin asked. He knew what he hoped the hobbit was meaning, but he didn't dare to voice it until he was sure. He didn't even allow himself to hope because he didn't think he could bear the disappointment if he was wrong.

Bilbo sighed before he continued. "I mean us. It's complicated, I know that. And we have things that we will need to discuss, but I don't see why we can't try to make this work. I can't stand this tension between us anymore. I know that it may not work out, but we have to try . . . that is, if you want to. I mean, I know that I am not the same as I was, but the one thing that has not changed is the fact that I love you."

"Of course I want to try," Thorin replied, his voice harsh with emotion. "I crossed time to be with you. I would not change my mind now . . . no matter how dire the consequences may prove to both our pieces of mind." He grimaced at the last thought as he remembered what awaited them back in the house. "What does this mean for the others? Should we let them start their settlement or delay them longer?"

"Let's have them wait a while longer," Bilbo said with a sad smile. "That was if this doesn't work out . . . well . . . it will be . . ."

"Less trouble to end," Thorin supplied in a quiet voice. The hobbit nodded unable to give voice to the fate that he knew was a possibility. It was with a soft, nervous smile that Bilbo reached over slowly and laced his fingers through Thorin's. The dwarf gave the smaller hand a gentle squeeze before returning the smile and leaning in slowly, his eyes warning Bilbo what he had planned and begging for permission for what he had planned.

Even though Bilbo had made the first move, Thorin stopped with a hair's breadth between their lips and waited for Bilbo to close the distance. After little more than a heartbeat, the hobbit did so enthusiastically. Into that kiss he poured all his desire, longing and love that had built up over the last sixty years along with his frustration, anger and grief. Thorin took them all and gave back his love and understanding that things would take time to return to how they were, if they ever could.

Once they came up for air, Thorin brought his hand up to stroke the side of Bilbo's face and looked into his eyes. "I promise you," he said his voice little more than a whisper. "If it is within my power, things will turn out differently this time. And I swear to you I will not repeat my mistakes." Knowing that no reply he could make would be adequate, Bilbo gently stroked the side of Thorin's face, a smile crossing his own face as the dwarf leaned into the touch.

From the window, three faces continued to watch on as a poor, traumatized hobbit was currently laying on the floor—having fainted.

"I knew they wouldn't make it through the day," Bofur said with a smile. "Pay up lads."

"I said—" Dwalin began only to be cut off by Balin who was already passing coins to Bofur having placed his bet for last night.

"You said that they wouldn't make it through dinner," Balin said nudging his brother. "He said that they wouldn't make it to lunch. Now pay up." With a grumble Dwalin dug into his pockets to find the gold he now owed to Bofur.

"So lads," Balin began with a sly smile, "Care to take bets on when this gets physical again?" Frodo was beginning to come around just as the dwarves began to discuss in graphic detail what they thought might take place between Thorin and Bilbo and when each step would take place. Some of the things they were describing were so horrific—to Frodo—that he gave another squeak and fainted once more.

"Excitable things, aren't they?" Dwalin asked looking at the hobbit on the floor.

"Yep," Bofur agreed. "Anyone want to see how many times we can make him do that before their birthday?"

ooOO88OOoo

There we are all, a new chapter out for your reading pleasure.

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Stickdonkeys