You may hate me after this one...

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, or The Silmarillion. They belong to the incomparable J.R.R. Tolkien. I'm just playing in his universe.

Bilbo fell to his knees, unable to stand when a sudden heaviness began to creep up his limbs, starting at the bottom of his feet and flowing steadily to the middle of his legs. It hurt, much worse than his hands had, and his muscles strained with the effort to try to remain upright. He tried to get back up, but he had literally become rooted to the earth, for the clawing tendrils that had sprouted from the seed had overtaken his receding skin. All those below his knees and on his feet had become true roots, shredding his trousers and digging into the ground to anchor there. Those above and up to his hips were shoots that enlarged, until they were joined together, transforming his legs into the beginnings of the base of a trunk. Thankfully, his entire lower body began to grow numb after the initial painful burst, until he could feel absolutely nothing below his waist.

"Bilbo? Are you alright?" Gandalf stood and hurried over to kneel beside his curled form. He set a hand on Bilbo's back.

The hobbit nodded. He was uncomfortable and a little frightened, but there was nothing that could be done for it. He had always known what to expect; in his tween years, his father made sure to explain everything when they had "The Talk", but his predicament was rather rare. Very few of his kind had ever endured the torment and consequences of unrequited love, and the ones that did could leave no record of their experiences. His only frame of reference was the old story and general speculation.

It made him feel utterly alone, even with faithful friends like Gandalf at his side.

"Bilbo, does Thorin know about this? Did you explain what would happen to you?" he asked.

Bilbo straightened his spine to "sit" up. He swallowed the lump in his throat and shook his head. "Thorin was always so focused on the quest. He's had a hard life; he fought so hard and so long to provide for his people and regain his home. It would have been selfish of me to do anything to interfere, especially after I'd been so difficult at the start of this quest. What's the life of one hobbit compared to the grand scheme of things?"

Gandalf frowned, but Bilbo knew that he agreed with him in some measure. A wizard was supposed to be a neutral party that saw the bigger picture. He could not place the value of one person over countless others when an entire nation, or even the world, was at stake. Nonetheless, Gandalf told him, "No one can be blamed for being concerned for their own life, dear boy. Not even Thorin could begrudge you that."

Bilbo tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace. Regardless, it did not truly matter at this stage. "I... I did tell him how I felt," he whispered. "In Laketown, the night before we left for the Lonely Mountain..."

Bilbo sat on the edge of the dock outside the grand hall provided by the Master, away from the wild clamour of men and dwarves drinking and partying. To everyone else, the promise of home and prosperity was cause for celebration, and it was easy to forget that a dragon yet lay between them and their goal when wine and ale flowed freely. But rest and relaxation did not come easy for him, as he was now on the brink of fulfilling his purpose in this quest. He knew that he would not sleep well when tomorrow might bring death in any number of ways, and facing one's own mortality did not lend itself to joy.

Furthermore, his would not be the only life at stake, if he did not make some effort to speak to Thorin tonight. Their experiences in Mirkwood had been the most trying thus far, but on the bright side, they had made some progress in their relationship. Throughout the journey through the dark woods, Thorin had most often turned to him for comfort and counsel, and they had gotten to know each other quite well. There were many instances in which Bilbo believed and hoped that there was indeed more than friendship between them, that Thorin might return his affections. Unfortunately, their capture by the elves and the harrowing escape to the river in barrels prevented him from broaching the subject.

Come what may, Bilbo would have to tell Thorin the truth, if not for the chance to remove the plant from his body before stealing into Erebor, then at least for his own piece of mind in knowing that he had done all that he could to win Thorin's heart.

Speaking of, Bilbo was just thinking of going to find him before he lost his nerve, when Thorin saved him the trouble.

The stomp of heavy boots alerted Bilbo of his approach, followed by a half-hearted reprimand. "I wish you would not wander off without telling me, Bilbo," he growled.

Bilbo remained silent. He waited and watched as Thorin came and sat down beside him.

"Though I do understand why you seek solitude," Thorin said, his eyes fixed on the Lonely Mountain.

"Oh, I'm not worried about a little ol' dragon, if that's what you're thinking," Bilbo chuckled with false bravado. "I just needed some air, that's all."

Thorin snorted. "Only a fool would not be nervous about facing Smaug," he pointed out, voice clipped. But it softened when he added, "If you wish to speak of your concerns, I will listen."

Bilbo swung his legs idly and looked down at the water. "Honestly, I'm trying not to think about it too much... which is a little counterproductive of course, because the more I try not to, the more I do, you know?"

Thorin hummed in agreement.

"I wanted to come up with some plan on what I should do once I get inside. And I thought I should try to figure out how I might handle the dragon, but all of my ideas result in me being eaten or incinerated." Bilbo tried to sound nonchalant about it the whole thing, but he failed to keep the slight tremor from his hands at the thought of death by fire.

Thorin was quiet for some time. Finally, he said, "I wish I knew of some way to put your mind at ease. I was never adept at speaking words of comfort."

"It's alright," Bilbo assured him with a smile. "Just having you here beside me is comfort enough."

Thorin inclined his head to stare at him with widened eyes, supposedly unsure of how to respond. When neither of them could think of anything to say, Bilbo had to look away. He just didn't know how to interpret such a conflicted expression.

"If I could think of some other way to accomplish this task..." Thorin started.

Bilbo cut him off. "Don't. You've sacrificed too much to doubt now. You cannot risk this quest for the life of one burglar." He shook his head to dislodge further morbid musings. "Let's speak of something else."

"Like what?"

"Well..." Bilbo drawled. He wanted to ease them into a conversation that was more conducive for admitting his feelings, but he was not certain how to nudge them in that direction. And even though he spoke truthfully of drawing comfort from Thorin's company, he couldn't really get past the notion that this long journey would be over in a few days, and death in some form would be his reward. Hopefully, his dear dwarves would not share his fate in any way, and could build better lives for themselves once the dragon was gone. "I wonder what it'll be like," Bilbo mumbled, unaware that he was speaking out loud.

Thorin nudged him with his elbow. "What will 'what be like'?" he asked.

"Huh?" The movement succeeded to bring Bilbo back from his mental wanderings. "Oh... I was just thinking about the company... a-and you. I was wondering what everyone would do, once Erebor is yours again."

Thorin looked back up at the mountain. His face remained neutral, but his eyes betrayed his awe. "It has been a long time since I have considered it. It has always been my dream to reclaim our homeland, but I never dared hope beyond that."

Bilbo could understand that. "I think now would be a good time, don't you think?" After some thought, he added, "I sometimes find that challenges are less daunting when you know what comes after. So dream a little! What's Erebor going to be like when 'the lord of silver fountains, comes into his own'?"

Thorin laughed at Bilbo's enthusiasm. "I imagine we'll have a great deal of cleaning up to do. I doubt Smaug did anything more than gather up the treasure, and he's sure to have destroyed much within the city." His mood visibly darkened with grief. "And the remains of my people must be put to rest. There has long been talk of constructing a memorial to all those lost when Erebor fell."

Bilbo winced at that. "I'm sure it'll be wonderful. The memorial I mean," he clarified. "And I suppose there will be a ceremony also."

Thorin nodded. "We will hold a great feast, with songs of lament and many tales. And I shall personally meet with any and all surviving kin who return to the mountain, and see to it that their needs are provided for. Only after that has been accomplished will I allow myself to be crowned king."

"I thought you were already king," Bilbo said.

Thorin gave him a smug grin, allowing his pain to melt away for the moment. "I am indeed. But the official rites were never performed, and there was no celebration. I would be a sorry king indeed if I did not follow tradition."

Bilbo blinked a few times, and then smirked when realization dawned on him. "You just want to have a party for yourself, don't you?" It wasn't really a question.

Thorin mirrored the expression and puffed out his chest. "I believe I have more than earned it," he sniffed.

Bilbo snorted, but he was glad that Thorin did not dwell too long on sorrow anymore. "I can't say I disagree, but I'm also inclined to believe that dwarves are simply over-fond of parties, especially when ale is plentiful." To prove his point, he indicated the hall behind them with a tilt of head, where wild laughter and drunken songs could still be heard.

"I fail to see why that's a bad thing," Thorin said.

Bilbo gave up on continuing that point by rolling his eyes, but noticed a window of opportunity to steer their dialogue towards the matter he truly wanted to discuss. He ceased talking for a moment, considering his words, and Thorin resumed looking up at the mountain.

Once he thought it through, he began, "I find it all rather strange. Hobbits have never really lived in "kingdoms", and it has been a long time since we've been governed by a king or queen. Technically, we still owe our allegiance to the king of Arnor, if there was one anyway. I don't know much at all about how monarchies work, except for what I've read in stories. I've so many questions... about everything."

Thorin sat up straighter. "I'd be happy to answer some of them, if you like," he told him, his voice laced with pride. "You deserve the right to know more about our dwarven customs. And it might be good for you to gain a better understanding, since..." Thorin trailed off.

"Since... what?"

Thorin cleared his throat. "Nevermind. What sort of questions do you have?" he inquired in a rush.

Bilbo raised an eyebrow, but didn't pressure Thorin for clarification. He had more important matters to seek, and he decided it was best to stop putting it off and try to dive in. He feared to ask, but he kept it from his voice when he inquired casually, "Well, for starters, will you be expected to marry, once you are officially king?"

Thorin shook his head. "The only requirement in that regard is that there must be a legitimate heir to the throne within our bloodline. My sister-sons fulfill that role, so it is not necessary for me to take a spouse."

Bilbo hesitated before he pressed a little further. "Do you think you might though? Even if you don't have to?"

He shrugged indifferently. "That would depend on whether or not I've found my One."

Bilbo's eyes narrowed at the undefined term. "You know, Kili mentioned something about a 'One' before, but he never told me what it means. Is that like a soulmate?"

"That would be an apt description, yes. Most dwarves believe that when Eru laid the deep sleep upon our forefathers, he changed something of their design. While they slept, he split their souls in half, leaving one portion within them while placing the other in separate bodies. Some say it was a punishment and a curse for Mahal's impatience, because it invokes great loneliness and despair in our kind. But others think that it was a gift: since we are uncompromising and slow to change, the search for our One can help us grow, and teach us endurance and patience."

The hobbit plucked at the fur lining on his borrowed coat, smiling softly. He enjoyed hearing Thorin speak thus, with a passion that bordered on reverence. He was so stoic and moody much of the time, perhaps only the natural result of his life's hardships, but any time he talked about or reflected on more personal matters, like his family and culture, he was far more approachable and at ease. "Do you know... when you find your One?"

Thorin glanced his way briefly. "Some claim it is so... that they knew at first sight who their intended should be. But as a whole, most would tell you that they know the same way everyone else does... through the time spent together and the gradual build of trust and love. Eventually, there comes a time when we do unequivocally realize who our One is, but that is another long discussion in and of itself." He turned to face Bilbo more fully, raising a brow. "Is there some reason you're asking of this in particular?"

Bilbo met his gaze evenly. "You gave me permission to ask you about dwarven culture," he reminded him. "I could try to find some books instead if you prefer, but they seem to be rather scarce, especially in the Shire."

"The same could be said of hobbits, among all other cultures. Your kind are insular as well."

"You're quite right, for the most part," Bilbo conceded. "But as far as literature goes, there aren't a lot of books about us simply because there isn't much to tell. You can learn all there is to know about our ways in a month."

Thorin's lips quirked into a small smirk. "I once believed the same, but there is one particular hobbit I know of that seems to defy all of my preconceived notions of their kind, in the best possible way."

Bilbo chuckled at that. "I'm afraid I'm not a very good representation of my people. I think you'll find that I'm more of an exception than a rule. I was considered a bit odd even before I ran off with you lot."

"I do not know whether or not that is true. However, I am certain that you do represent the best that hobbits have to offer. You are a marvel, Bilbo Baggins, and I'm glad you've shown me the error of my preconceived prejudices." His voice softened when he added, "In fact, I count knowing you as one of the few blessings in my life."

Bilbo swallowed, feeling his face and ears warming in response. "I... feel the same, Thorin."

Neither of them moved as they gazed at one another. Bilbo set a hand on his chest, feeling the gentle pulse of the plant contrasting with his rapidly beating heart. His mind whirled as he tried to find the words to best explain what he wanted, needed to say. Thankfully, Thorin unknowingly helped him along.

"Do hobbits have Ones? A soulmate?" he asked.

Bilbo leaned back and considered how to describe his own cultural background. "No," he said at last, "We don't have someone that we are destined to love or be with. We are not half of anything or anyone. However..." With great effort, he kept his eyes on Thorin, mentally willing him to catch on. "We only love once in our lifetimes, or not at all. That is to say... we love all our friends and relatives of course, but we only ever fall in love with one person. Once we have given our hearts to another, we can never love anyone else. So I guess you could argue that we do have a soulmate, in a way."

Thorin seemed to agree with him. "The love of hobbits is deep, to be so devoted. Much like dwarves."

Bilbo tried not to fidget under that ardent and fond stare, and wondered just how much he should reveal. "Yes, I suppose. But it's more than devotion that keeps us from ever loving someone else. It's..."

"Yes?" Thorin prompted when he didn't continue.

Bilbo looked away, deciding it would be best not to get into too much detail if he was to go through with this. He desperately fought to keep his voice from breaking and explained, "For hobbits, it's not a simple matter of just staying true to the one we love. By our very design, we become completely incapable of loving another."

Thorin looked surprised and puzzled by the thought. "What do you mean?"

"I... it's not important. I shouldn't have told you," Bilbo mumbled, more to himself than Thorin.

"Why not?"

Bilbo took a very deep breath. "Because... I don't want that to influence your thoughts on the matter."

From the corner of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of a frown altering Thorin's good mood. "You know that I have no interest in riddles, Bilbo. Speak plainly."

He turned back to look him in the eyes as he revealed, "If you insist. The truth is, I've... I seem to have fallen in love... with you, Thorin."

The admission completely wiped any expression from the Thorin's face.

Bilbo smiled somewhat bitterly. "I'm well aware that this quite improper... and most unwelcome, I'm sure. I'm just a hobbit and you're a dwarf king. And I know that the timing is highly inconvenient. But, well..." and now he gave an almost manic laugh and began to ramble a bit, "I'm about to face a dragon after all. 'Furnace with wings', as Bofur so helpfully pointed out. And while I am trying to remain optimistic about the whole thing, I also need to consider that I might not make it out alive. And I didn't want to regret not telling you."

In a Tookish fit of daring, he scooted a little closer to Thorin and placed his small hand over the dwarf's much larger one. "I don't mean to be impertinent. I'm not expecting you to say the same just now. I just... the only thing I need to know is... whether or not I have a chance... with you. Might you possibly feel something for me, just a little, beyond camaraderie and friendship?"

"Bilbo..." Thorin shifted to face him better and took both of Bilbo's hands in his own. "I do care for you; do not doubt it. You have become a dear friend and companion, if rather infuriating at times. However..."

A great chill ran through Bilbo's body at that word, and he realized that Thorin was likely unable or possibly unwilling to speak the truth that would undoubtedly cause him pain. He deflated a bit, though he still smiled. "I see." He gently pulled his hands free from Thorin's grip. "Well, that answers that then. But at least now I don't have to wonder. Thank you, Thorin." He pushed himself to his feet, intending to head back to his room and get some rest for the big day tomorrow, though inwardly he knew he was just running away so he wouldn't reveal his utter despair.

"Bilbo, wait!" He could hear Thorin getting up as well, but thankfully, the dwarf did not come any nearer. "Let me explain..."

"It's okay, Thorin; I get it." He made sure to blink back his tears before he half turned and looked over his shoulder, staring at him seriously. "I'm just not your soulmate, right? Your One? If that's true, then there's really nothing for it. No need to worry."

"But... what you said about hobbits..."

Bilbo nodded, offering one final, sad smile. "Yes, that's quite true, unfortunately." Deciding that he had nothing left to lose, he approached Thorin once more. "Even though I am not your intended 'One', I still love you, Thorin Oakenshield. And I will continue to love you for the rest of my life." He forced a laugh. "However long or short that may be." Then, before he lost his nerve or Thorin decided to back away, he stood up on his tiptoes and gave his unrequited love a quick kiss on the cheek. "Good night, Thorin."

And with that, he swiftly walked away, only permitting the tears to fall when he was certain that he was alone.

Thanks for reading!