He wasn't sure what he'd missed, but all eyes were on Bilbo when he and Dwalin joined the group in the sitting room. Fili and Kili were the first to pounce, and had requested to visit with him privately in the evening. When he'd asked why, they'd rolled their eyes in unison and told him that he would have to wait to find out. They'd invited him to their rooms, wrestling a promise out of him, then disappeared out the double doors before Bilbo could blink.
Dis had informed him that they would be meeting for tea at hobbit teatime. It had surprised him that she even knew about teatime, much less that she drank tea, but he had hesitantly agreed. Simultaneously, Dain had been informed by Thorin that they were going to meet during that time to discuss 'everything' he'd missed, before dismissing him. The two had left together with Dis teasing Dain that he was in trouble.
This left Bilbo, Thorin, Balin and Dwalin. Balin had informed the couple that they would be spending the morning visiting the community areas as the face of Erebor, before quickly ushering the group out the door. Dwalin disappeared ahead of them but rejoined with Bilbo's usual breakfast fare of bread and cheese. When Bilbo offered some to Thorin he'd shook his head, that guarded expression entering his eyes again. The other two assured him that they had broken their fasts already, and so they'd walked in silence while he ate. This led up to now; King and consort sitting beside each other, listening to complaints and worries from the new dwarves in the upper city district.
"Well, that went great, didn't it?" Bilbo commented in joy filled sarcasm. They'd just finished up with one of the female dwarves who had been complaining about her new neighbor; a male who had been standing next to her to complain about the female. Snide comments had broken into full blown arguing that had lasted close to thirty minutes before Thorin had been able to come to an amicable solution. Luckily, these two were the last in line to see the king, ending the three-hour long stint of public service with a bang.
"Aye," Thorin rubbed his temples with a sigh, "I'm honestly surprised that there weren't more since I've been gone so long."
"Oh, well…" Bilbo looked up at the rocky ceiling innocently. "I've been handling them, between Balin and I we've been able to come up with solutions for just about everything."
Thorin turned to him with surprise written on his face, "You?"
"Well, yes," He sat up a little straighter to look Thorin the eyes. "Bag End is only as well off as it is because my family are the ones to deal with issues in the shire. The problems of your people are very similar; everyone wants food, water and shelter… And everyone hates their neighbors." He teased, bumping his shoulder into Thorin's.
"I suppose you're correct. It's just been a very long time since I've done this sort of work, I'm a little out of practice. You're a natural at it though." The dwarf smiled at him, nearly making his heart stop in pure happiness.
"Thank you." He looked away as heat reddened his cheeks at the complement. "So, what does Balin have planned out for us next?"
"He doesn't. Come, we have some free time before our next appointments." The dwarf rose from his seat to offer a hand to Bilbo, helping him rise to lead him down the streets.
Where this part of town had been dark only a few days ago, lamp lights lit every corner now so that it almost appeared like daylight. Dwarrow bustled in and out of houses and shops. The streets were bustling with activity; some stopping to chat with one another, others in too much of a hurry to acknowledge anyone. Many of the shop fronts remained boarded up until glass could be made. This hadn't stopped the new owners from painting elaborate signs in a rainbow of colors on the boards to indicate what was hidden behind each door. Shop names in Khuzdal paired with pictographs of bread, clothing and shoes helped Bilbo understand the words.
As they walked among the crowds, the Blue Mountain dwarves greeted him and Thorin with cheerful smiles, stopping occasionally to inquire about Thorin and his family or asking polite questions to Bilbo about hobbits. Each pleasant exchange ended with cheerful jokes and smiles. On the other hand, many of Ironhills immigrants were noticeably, and respectfully, wary of the hobbit. They greeted their king and consort formally, which was how Bilbo was used to interacting with individuals since his duel with Dain.
"They are likely wary of you as many of them have never encountered a hobbit before," Thorin attempted to reassure Bilbo with a kind smile, not wanting his hobbit to feel awkward or out of place. A wide wicked grin spread across Bilbo's face before he started laughing outright.
"Yes, they likely haven't seen a hobbit before me. But also watching me almost kill their Lord probably gave them second thoughts about messing with me."
Thorin seemed to miss a step as Bilbo continued forward, chuckling to himself Catching up, he grasped the hobbit's shoulder to face him. "Kill… Dain?"
"Oh didn't Balin tell you? Dain challenged me to a duel." Bilbo smiled pleasantly at the shocked dwarf king. Shock was soon replaced with determination as he straightened with a glare.
"I'll kill him," Thorin growled, turning to scan the passing dwarrow for any sign of his cousin.
"Don't bother," Bilbo laughed again, tugging Thorin forward by his sleeve. "We're friends now. It's not like I can't handle myself."
Thorin shook his head with a hesitant smile at his husband's confidence, "That is for sure."
They entered a few shops along the way, mostly ones for clothing. There wasn't a lot of selection yet, much of what was for sale had been brought over from the Ironhills. Thorin seemed to be looking for something specific, asking each shopkeeper in Khuzdal. The fourth shopkeeper finally pointed, giving the king directions to what he was looking for. Thorin reached down to grab Bilbo's hand before leading him out of the shop and down the road a few blocks. Eventually they reached a door embedded in a small corner, the business logo painted on the door to look like a hat and a scarf in bright green.
Entering, Thorin spoke briefly with the shop keep who grinned widely at the appearance of the king and his consort. Several bows and nods before the dark-haired dwarf disappeared into the back before reappearing with piles of cloth in his arms. Bilbo was quickly shuffled in front of a mirror as the shopkeeper started handing him coats to try on. Thorin took a seat behind him, kicking his feet out to enjoy the spectacle.
"Why am I trying on coats? I have a coat." Bilbo frowned at Thorin's reflection in the mirror as another too-large monstrosity of ivory white was foisted upon him.
"Yes, a fine coat it may have been. It has served you well through your adventures, truly." Thorin grinned back at him from where he watched the exchange. "However, you can also tell that it has spent the past year on the back of a hobbit with no care if he lived or died. Hobbit blood mixed with orc blood, dragon blood, a mess of mud and I think some of Beorn's honey have all stained it past the point of no return."
Bilbo huffed, but didn't argue. Looking at his reflection, he lamented at his weight loss that could be seen in his face and hands. He also looked shockingly dwarvish; his hair longer than he had ever kept it. Meticulous braids woven in weekly by various members of the company were all that kept the stray curls from his face. His nose also had a slight new curve to it, and of course all his clothing was of dwarven make. His mother would be shocked at his state.
The shopkeeper introduced himself as Hod son of Cod, making idle chatter as Bilbo shifted from one coat to another. His beard was braided nearly to the floor, and every finger had some sort of bandage. He was a jolly fellow hailing from the Blue Mountains, and was apparently personally selected by Princess Dis to travel to Erebor in the first wave of immigrants. He was very proud of this fact, mentioning it at least three times as they continued to sort through his stock.
Finally, after several more attempts, a dark blue coat trimmed in fur was pulled out of the back. Hod spoke of how it was tailored for a young dwarf who had changed his mind at the last minute. It fit Bilbo perfectly, and it was much finer than his own. A pleased smile spread across the hobbit's face as he ran his fingers over the fur, and Thorin made arrangements for the gift to be delivered to their quarters later that day. Saying their goodbyes to Hod, Bilbo exited before quickly turning to stand on his tip toes, planting a kiss on Thorin's cheek.
"Thank you, it's a beautiful gift-" Pain ricocheted through Bilbo's skull as they stepped out onto the street, causing him to stumble to the side. His shoulder came in contact with the wall, he slid down to his knees, fists clenched to either side of his head, a small whimper escaping his lips.
"What's wrong," Thorin's worried voice cut through the ringing in his ears as tears streamed down his face.
"Nothing, I'm sorry," He hiccuped a sob, as hot white pain speared through him. Not here, not with him, the only thoughts that seemed to filter through the pain. "Where's Dwalin?"
"He's farther up the street. Please my love, tell me how I can help."
Taking a deep breath, Bilbo attempted to stand, his limbs shaking from the effort. "Please, the ally, before anyone sees" A firm hand grasped his arm above the elbow, leading him into the darkened crevasse between buildings. A few steps in and his knees gave out; those hands catching him and helping ease him down to sit on the ground. "Don't let them see me." He mumbled out, with no further thought as he waited for it to end.
He could feel more than see the shadow of Thorin's form standing vigil over him. After what seemed like hours, the pain eventually faded to a dull ache pounding in his temple. He peeled open his eyes to look up at the stoic figure before him. Regal and handsome as ever, he'd spread his cloak wide to prevent anyone from seeing further into the ally. A new feeling he hadn't felt in a long time blossomed in his gut; Burden. He couldn't help but think that he was the weak link in the relationship, his illness would surely paint a target on the throne. Thorin didn't sign up for a defective hobbit, the thought whispered through his mind, making him cringe.
Up until now, the company had been very proactive; sequestering Bilbo away at any hint of symptoms so that no one else would find out. Both Balin and Dwalin had assured him that it was due to the current state of unrest they faced before Thorin's coronation. If anyone outside of the company knew of his illness, his weakness, Dain wouldn't be his last duel. Bilbo felt lucky that they were now in a relatively quiet part of the street.
The sound of him shuffling to his feet drew Thorin's attention, their gazes met in the shadowed space. Piercing blue spheres filled with worry stared back at him as he dusted himself off. Without a word, his dwarf passed him a small bottle of smelling salts, drawing more tears from his eyes at the small kindness.
"I'd like to go to our rooms now," He whispered, wiping away the salt water on his sleeve as he attempted to gather himself. Thorin nodded, taking his hand to lead him through some back streets, up the maze of passages to their hallway. This route nearly completely out of sight of any other dwarf and was much faster than how they usually transverse the labyrinth of Erebor. It was also darker and narrower, resulting in Bilbo having to calm his breathing as he continuously reminded himself that he was safe.
Once inside, Bilbo moved carefully towards the bed, fatigue weighing on him as he eased himself onto the mattress. His legs dangled off the side of the bed, but he couldn't find a reason to care as he closed his eyes. He felt the bed move with the shifting weight of Thorin sitting on the edge. He reached his hand out, searching, and felt instant relief when the callused grip twinned with his finger as if to answer his unspoken question. A minute passed before Thorin cleared his throat.
"Why did you want Dwalin?" Bilbo could hear hurt in the rasped inquiry, and a pit formed in his stomach as he sat up to look at Thorin who was staring at the wall across from them. There was a pinch to the corners of his eyes, tension in his brow that seemed to mold perfectly with the ever-guarded expression he'd been sporting all day. Bilbo took a deep breath before answering honestly.
"I've been sick and worsening since coming back to Erebor. I don't know what's wrong with me, but since you've been gone, we've developed a system for me to cope day to day with my symptoms. Dwalin has taken charge of my health matters as if they were his own, and I'll say that I've been relying on him. I know I'm safe with him." He felt Thorin's microscopic wince at his unintended jab.
"I feel safe with you, but you haven't seen me like this… you don't need this, me being this way is just one more reason for you to regret choosing me and…" he trailed off, tears streaking his face as he tried to figure out the words he wanted to say but found himself lacking. Lacking.
"You think I'd regret you for an illness? You stuck by me despite mine, I bound myself to you forever, not only for the good days, or only for when it's convenient." Anguish ripped through Bilbo at Thorin's words.
"You don't need a weak ill consort; you already have enough hurdles to face in keeping this throne. You rule over a strong people, there is no place for me at your side if I cannot be strong as well."
"I'll love you no matter what, the kingdom can eat rocks." Thorin turned, taking Bilbo's face in his hands to stare deeply into his eyes. "You are the strongest being I've ever met, and I will not lose you over your perceived faults. I'm sorry I haven't been what you've needed me to be for you; I've failed you more times than I can count. But you must know I will never leave you. We will figure out a cure for your illness so that I might spend the rest of our lives making it up to you."
Bilbo was taken aback by what he was hearing, "How can you think you've failed me?" Thorin withdrew in on himself, the fear and anger in his expression as he stood and began to pace.
"At every turn I feel as if I've failed you; I sent you into the dragon, I trusted your welfare to someone else and it got you eaten. I lost my mind, and tried to cage you like a pet, which drove you away. Away into a battle, my battle. And because I wasn't strong enough to protect you, wasn't fast enough, you were injured yet again. Poisoned and close to death I found you. I waited by your bedside as you healed." He paused in the middle of the floor, his face haunted as he looked up at Bilbo. The hobbit clasped the bedding in white knuckles as he listened. "I never asked you if you were alright, and after so much, I know no one could be. I've fought in battles for over one hundred years. Even the most skilled soldiers deal with suffering of the mind after only one battle and yet you'd faced so much in such a small span of time; I knew what troubled your nightmares every night. But we never talked about it. Instead, I assumed I had time and decided to give you space. I saw your sickness when we returned, and still I left you to get worse in the care of others."
"You didn't," Bilbo whispered, unsure how to help.
"I did, and I'm so sorry if I made you feel like you were alone through it all." Bilbo reached out a shaky hand, beckoning his dwarf to him. Though he hesitated, Thorin moved with a sureness to grasp the offered hand, pulling it to his lips.
"I can say with complete honesty that I wouldn't have told you any different if you'd asked me if I was okay. My entire life I've spent solving my own problems. I loved a male who didn't know it and watched him die in my arms after a bloody battle that I barely survived. I must be a lucky being, for I had no skill at that point, and should have died alongside him. I grieved for him; I grieved for myself. And it took me many years to come to terms with what happened. But most of that was spent in solitude or in the company of my nephew, whom I never shared my tales with." Bilbo shrugged, pulling his dwarf onto the bed beside him. "I shared my stories as a way to manipulate the outcome this time around. To Beorn, Thranduil, Elrond and Bard. It was the only way I could convince them to help, by weaponizing my feelings so that others would answer my call. I don't crave sympathy or healing from my injuries… Despite Oin and Balin urging me to talk about what happened between us and after, I'm not sure I know how." He ended in a whisper, his eye falling to his clasped hands.
They sat in silence for a time, both contemplating what the other had shared.
"I was twenty-four when Erebor first faced Smaug…" Thorin whispered, his words lingered in the air, heavy with memories. He swallowed hard, his fingers absently brushing against the edge of the bed as he continued. "I was young, arrogant… foolish. I thought we would be protected, that my family could do no wrong. In the end I watched my people fall beside me, their screams echoing in my ears long after the battle ended. I survived—but I wasn't the same. Every breath felt stolen, every victory tainted by what I'd lost. And yet…" He paused, his hand tightening around Bilbo's. "I survived."
Bilbo took the offered olive branch of knowledge, the thoughts in his mind mixing with fire and smoke of the past. "I… Wake up some times, with the covers to tight, or your-" His voice cracked, his fingers tightening their grasp on Thorin's hand,"- your arm laying over me… it's too dark, the fire's died out, and I think I'm still inside the monster gullet. I think I'm still being eaten." Bilbo's cheeks heated in shame as he shared one of his nightmares out loud. Thorin reached out with his free hand, tracing his thumb over the soft skin of his One's cheek.
"I want to know more."