Despite everything, Thorin doesn't die after the assuredly fatal blow on Ravenhill in what would later become known as the Battle of the Five Armies. He comes incredibly close. Ori says it was a matter of mere millimetres and he distinctly remembers an invisible Hobbit sized hand stuffing some leaf into his mouth and forcing him to chew it down.
The gold sickness dissipated just as quickly as it had taken him over. This leaf was spicy enough to make him think of little else but the way it was making his eyes water and distracting him from the pain of his wound.
Ori would tell him once the King had been found and hauled by many dwarves to the tents where the injured were being treated, that he'd never seen the plant before.
By all rights it shouldn't have done anything to him. Dwarven medicine was of rock and stone not of plant and earth in origin. Thorin's wound had caused bleeding though and that was what was most important.
It should have killed him long before any dwarven aid could reach him.
Because of his mysterious treatment, Thorin was very sure that it had been their burglar who had saved him.
After that, there's very little he couldn't forgive Bilbo for.
Almost losing everything he had worked so hard to regain for his people to the greed of the gold sickness seemed stupid when he could open his eyes and see the mountain from the open flaps of his tent. Tall and majestic. Free from the taint of the dragon that had defiled it.
The dwarves of Erebor had suffered greatly in their exile and now thanks to the company they could again return to their home.
He was not in the Halls of Mahal.
Thorin had not been returned to stone.
He lay in the hastily erected cot, one nephew on each of his sides sleeping and in a chair by them a dear hobbit watching over.
There was nothing for it. He would have to declare the love that had grown in his heart. The love that he had known since the Carrock but had not dared would be reciprocated.
Yet, after escaping death he would truly be a coward to let it go unspoken, no matter what the answer Bilbo gave him in return.
But how did you declare your love to a hobbit? There were likely to be significant cultural differences in this matter between their two peoples. Thorin was one hundred percent sure that he was going to put his foot in it, if left to his own devices.
Luckily, Gandalf put his head through the tent flaps but a mere moment later.
If anyone knew how not to insult a hobbit with a declaration of love then it would be him.
Two months later, Thorin presented his burglar with a crown of flowers made with delicate gold and jewels made by his own hands. So that they might live forever and he could prove to his love the gold sickness was long gone by parting with some of it.
"I have found something many times more precious than the gold of the mountain." He had said to his love.
Bilbo stuffed a leaf into his mouth in response. It was the very same as the one which had saved his life upon Ravenhill. Spicy. Eye wateringly so.
"I'm just a common hobbit." Bilbo said later. "What use have I for such gold and jewels?"
He hadn't taken it off though and that had to mean the words weren't a rejection.
Didn't it?
A/n: Just stuff mint into the mouth of your nearest dying, gold sick and grumpy dwarf. Guaranteed cure.