-Present-

Willingly, Dwalin would take on Azog the Defiler, his entire orc army, Lord Dain's foul breath and Lady Dis in a foul mood than to ever relive the day he's having.

Breakfast had been pleasant enough. Ori had made him an assortment of foods and they had eaten together, trading kisses between bites. They had discusses their upcoming nuptials, just two months time, and then split for the day. Ori wandering off to the library and Dwalin to the meeting hall.

Then his day took an abrupt turn for the worse. Upon seeing Thorin, Dwalin knew that something awful would happen this day. His King was in a fouler mood than if King Thranduil had just taken control of Erebor. He ordered guards about, sent for scrolls from the library and assemble the Council in one of the quickest summons he'd ever seen.

The Council had come, confused by Thorin's increasingly dark mood, Dis tried to pull him aside, but Thorin would not have it. He sent her to sit, and did the same with his nephews. Of course, then he sent for Bilbo and Dwalin shared a worried look with Dis.

Needless to say, the meeting was torture. Dwalin would give up both arms to never have to see that look cross Bilbo's face again. His friend didn't need to speak for him to know this decision had been Thorin's and his alone. The Hobbit was devastated.

Dwalin had watched him run from the meeting hall and immediately sent for Ori to go to Bilbo. He needed a friend, and Thorin requested the Council resume after only a minimal break. He kept them sequestered until finally well past noon, Dis ordered them all to lunch. Thorin's look had been murderous, but he had allowed it.

The King did not leave for the meal.

Dwalin had left his side, sprinting to library then to the Royal Chambers, but finding nothing of his beloved or the Hobbit. When a guard came to fetch him, stating that Thorin wanted his return as soon as possible, Dwalin gave up the search, and unable to find food in the short time, returned to the Council stomach grumbling and heart clenching with worry.

It was obvious when they returned that the Council assumed they would be moving on to other matters, but Thorin pressed on with the return trip for Bilbo. He seemed focused on getting Bilbo home as soon as possible, and when it was brought up that it would still take days to gather the necessary supplies, Thorin all but drew his sword.

Even when Dis tried to get them to break around dinner, Thorin ordered them to carry on. He brought up the names of guards to go, even though several Council members questioned why one Hobbit would need almost a full squad to accompany him. Dwalin felt nearly ill at this point, several guards had begun to eye their King like maybe this was a return of the madness, but he knew better. No, this madness was no born from the mind and a love of gold. This came straight from a love-stricken heart.

Mahal knew Dwalin had been trying to keep his mouth out of the situation, but he knew the others had been wrong in demanding marriage when it was clear to anyone who wanted to see that they were not lovers. Too many afternoons, Dwalin had followed Thorin to the veranda where Bilbo had been allotted a modest patch of soil to garden as he saw fit.

He had watched them, strolling through the aisles, Thorin commenting on plants, even though the dwarf couldn't tell a piece of lettuce from a rose bush. Bilbo had dragged him along, showing him where he would make changes in the warmer weather, because he had been preparing since mid-winter. Dwalin had known then that while they both loved each other, neither had realized how deeply they had fallen. He didn't even have to look to know they had not yet been lovers. It was in the way Thorin stuttered around the topic of when Bilbo would be back at their Chambers that evening or when Bilbo would talk on and on about how he still hadn't made Thorin a specific recipe, even though the ingredients would yet be ready for months.

Without realizing it, they had been building a life together, and all it had taken was the Council, at Dis' pushy insistence, to start requesting information on their upcoming engagement to send their rudimentary structure falling around everyone's ears.

When they finally did break, Thorin withdrew to his study, with the plans for the return trip and denied the request that someone bring him dinner. Dwalin barely spared a glance of concern with Dis, before heading off in the direction of the group's dining hall.

It was well beyond the time that Dwalin normally stopped by to accompany Ori to dinner. Sometimes Ori would send him away, saying he had a bit to do before joining them, or if Dwalin was too busy with things for the next day, they would meet at dinner when they could. Swinging through the group's dinner, Dwalin only looked over to confirm his suspicions before turning about and marching towards his chambers.

What he found took his foul mood and turned it dark. Sprawled out on his bed covers, crying gently and nearly silent enough that he would have missed it...except this is exactly what Dwalin had feared. Moving quickly to Ori's side, he took his beloved's hands in his, kissing them as Ori buried his face away to try and stop the tears.

"Beloved," he whispered.

"Bilbo is going to leave," Ori admitted, turning back to face his future husband, red puffy eyes breaking Dwalin's heart.

"I am aware," he said, rubbing the chill from Ori's arms with one hand.

"I helped him move all his belongings to the South Wing," Ori said. Dwalin sucked in a harsh breath. The South Wing was about as far as one could get from the Royal Chambers without being outside the mountain. This didn't bode well for them at all. He had hoped that Bilbo would be angry, would argue with Thorin over his irrational decision, instead it seemed that Bilbo was going to retreat...all the way to the Shire to avoid confronting Thorin.

They were losing their friend two months before their wedding and to a broken heart. Dwalin knew part of Ori's old insecurities had caused these tears. When they had first courted, Ori had been convinced that Dwalin would one day drop all affection for him in favor of another, more impressive, dwarf. It had scared him so bad that sometimes he would start arguments just to push Dwalin away. The resulting grief had only ended when Dwalin had made it clear that he had no intentions towards ever leaving Ori, unless it was by Ori's own wishes.

Bilbo had been the one to help Ori through that time, steering the young dwarf back to reason time and time again. Now an entire kingdom of dwarves could not make the pair of them see reason.

Before Dwalin could get another word out, a guard knocked on the door, demanding that Dwalin return to Thorin at his request. Sighing, Dwalin kissed Ori's knuckles.

"Send for dinner. I will return shortly," he says.

"I'm not really-"

Pressing a firm kiss to those lips, Dwalin smiles.

"Send for dinner, then we will enjoy the rest of our night, I swear, beloved." Nodding, and only blushing a little, Ori sits up to wipe away the remaining tears. Dwalin kisses him one more time, then exits his chambers. He gets the details from the guard then sends him off.

Making his way back to Thorin's study, Dwalin thinks on what could possible be so important this late, and doesn't like the scenarios that his mind comes up with. He knocks on the study door, entering when Thorin's gruff tone allows it.

"My King," Dwalin greets, not willing to press his luck with being informal.

"Good, Dwalin, I need to speak with you about the guards going on the trip to the...Shire," he says, and draws a couple scrolls to him.

"I've seen the list, and they all look like honorably dwarves, Your Majesty," he says. "Were you looking for me to make a recommendation for the leader of the exposition?"

"No, I already know who I want to lead," Thorin says and looks up at Dwalin.

"Oh? Well that's good, should I infor-"

"I want you to go," he cuts Dwalin off.

For a moment, Dwalin's brain tries to work out what he has just heard, because no that can't be right.

"My King, my wedding is in two months time, surely you could find someone else to return Bi-" He stops as Thorin's eyes shoot him an unreadable look. Dwalin clears his throat. "There are other who would be excellent choices for this trip."

"No, it has to be you," Thorin says, shrugging off Dwalin's concerns. Undeterred, he starts again.

"There isn't any possible way for me to return within two months time, Thorin. I have a wedding that has been planned since mid-winter. I cannot leave now," he insists.

"I will pay for the cost to push back your wedding," Thorin says, overruling the objection. Dwalin blanches at the disregard for his wedding date.

"Certainly Blaen or-" Dwalin is cut off again, but not by the anger he expected to come next. Instead it is a quiet turn of Thorin's head and a mutter that stops Dwalin cold this time.

"You are the only one I trust to return him safely to the Shire." Thorin looks down and clenches his fist to his leg, moving as though the whole conversation has brought him pain.

"I would go myself but I doubt I could survive the journey, Dwalin," Thorin shook his head, his dark hair falling into his face, hiding the look of anguish that crosses his face.

"You must go. You must go where I cannot." There is pain in his voice. "You must see him safely to his home. I cannot go."

His heart revolts at the thought of this, at moving their wedding date, of leaving Ori for so long, of even telling Ori, but, when faced with this, Dwalin knows that he has no choice. It feels like removing a sword from Thorin's stomach to raise in defense of Bilbo, but all Dwalin can do is nod.

"I'll go, My King."

As Dwalin returns to his chambers, it seems that with the fall of night, the announcement of Bilbo's departure had spread to every corner of Erebor, and probably most of Dale, and it was not met with any type of joy by anyone. A dark hush, instead, had fallen over the mountain. The mood the previous night had been one of normalcy, but now it looked as though everyone now was preparing for something worse than a dragon to be consuming their halls.

Reaching his door, Dwalin rested his forehead against the wood. He could smell the dinner inside that Ori had gotten for them. His beloved was humming lightly, the pain and tears pushed aside because of his trust that Dwalin could make things better.

Taking a long slow breath, Dwalin wished again for an army to defeat, a chance to be run through with a sharp knife or bludgeoned with rocks or pierced with a hundred arrows than to go through the door and break his beloved's heart with this news.

But there is no army, and Dwalin admits his defeat by pulling away and opening the door. He braces himself as he takes the few steps across the threshold, but in the end it doesn't help. To be simply put, it wasn't like the day could get any worse.