Bilbo closed the last book for the day and stood up from his reading table. His back suddenly decided to announce its annoyance with being stuck to the back of a chair for the past few hours, making him stretch until his bones cracked.

As he stepped out from behind the table, ready to call it a day well spent, he heard the door opening and a steady cadence of steps coming in. In the months that had passed since Thorin had gone back to being up and about, he had come to recognise the rhythm of his steps even when the great dwarf was trying to be quiet. There was a resolve in them that was hard to miss.

Bilbo stopped at the side of his reading table, waiting. Thorin soon appeared in the frame of the door, looking very slightly tired, but otherwise in good spirits. Bilbo felt as if he hadn't seen him in days, which was not entirely far from the truth. They had seen each other every day in the past few weeks, but it had mostly been for short periods of time, and mostly in the presence of others, sharing a meal, discussing important matters of the kingdom or even enjoying a casual talk over a pint of ale. They had not been alone together that much since their last close encounter. It had not been something they had agreed upon formally. They had simply and naturally drifted apart to a certain degree, and Thorin had been increasingly busy as he had gotten better and better.

"Have you had your supper yet?" asked Thorin as he advanced towards Bilbo.

"Yes, Fili and Kili kept me company a little while ago."

Thorin raised his eyebrows. "In here?"

"Yes, if you can believe that," said Bilbo, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well," said Thorin taking a few more steps forward until he was only a few feet away, "one more achievement for you to be proud of. Getting Fili and Kili to enter a library willingly."

Bilbo smiled, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to laugh.

"I was detained longer than I had hoped," said Thorin, his voice lowered in a slight note of disappointment.

"No matter," said Bilbo, "there's always tomorrow."

"Of course."

Thorin looked like he wanted to say more, and certainly his deep blue eyes spoke more loudly than the volumes that surrounded them. He uttered no more words, however.

Bilbo felt now more than ever that his world seemed very small in Thorin's presence. He was back to his imposing self. His shoulders were straight again and his head held high. He moved with relative ease, although Bilbo knew that certain wounds were still filled with sullen aches. Only his prideful glow seemed a little tamer now, but it was still a glow, if of a healthier shade.

There had not been much time for contemplation in the past few days, but now, in the grand stillness of a tall hall of stone filled with stories of toil and courage, Bilbo found himself mesmerised by Thorin's stature as he stood there, finally ready to rule the kingdom of his birth right. His gaze, darkened by the shadows from the torches lighting the room, carried such ripe power, such fire held within tight reigns, that Bilbo felt helpless before it, too helpless even to protest. He knew then what he had known all along but had been using his expert burglar skills to avoid facing: that, as much as he missed the Shire and his beloved Bag End, he could not leave Erebor. He could not walk away from Thorin without regretting it for the rest of his days. He desired to be where Thorin was and he desired more than they had now. Even though no doubt remained in his mind, his heart still skipped a beat as Thorin came closer to him, apparently with tender intentions.

Bilbo slipped deftly away from Thorin's reaching hand and made for the door. "I was planning to go to bed early," he said once he had reached a safe distance. "Good night." He looked back and saw Thorin glance after him with a smile that was a little sad, a little exhausted, but kind more than anything.

"Good night," he answered, his voice charged with the wisdom of knowing better. He then lowered his gaze to the stack of books piled on the table as Bilbo turned away.

Bilbo felt like his head had suddenly been invaded by a swarm of Beorn's giant drones as he walked out of the library. He definitely wanted what Thorin wanted, and it scared him less and less every day. Even now, he instantly wanted to slap himself the moment he closed the door behind him. He found it harder and harder to justify giving in to this fear when Thorin had behaved himself with exceptional consideration ever since that difficult last conversation about where they stood. Of course, Thorin had been very busy, but that was not why he had been a little more distant. He was very obviously making an effort to give Bilbo the time and space that he needed, to prove to him that the decision was his to say yes to a life together, and that he, Thorin, would do nothing to force his hand. He would wait for as long as he had to.

At the end of these thoughts waited Bilbo's bed chamber, still warm and glowing with a mild fire. He hoped that, on this night, as on every other night lately, his routine of preparing for bed would make the buzzing in his head stop. He gave himself fully to it, knowing that it had become perhaps his favourite part of the day. He loved taking his warm baths in the evening, letting the water and soothing aromas of oils and soaps soak up his every pore, making him want nothing more than crawl under the covers and sleep. While in the tub, it seemed that things would progress as expected. He had actually gotten quite sleepy from the nice hot water, but as soon as he climbed out of the tub and changed into his night clothes, he found that his head filled with bees yet again, buzzing with positively deafening noise.

He slipped into bed nevertheless, tucked himself thoroughly into his pillow and drew the cover over his head. He made sure to close his eyes and tried to keep them that way until his head began hurting, but sleep didn't come and his eyes eventually popped wide open, meeting nothing but the thick, warm darkness under his blanket.

Bilbo threw his bed cover away and sat up. He had to accept that his choice was made and that the only thing left for him to do was to act on it. There was no more waiting, no more wondering and no more hesitating. He could very well recall his state of mind on the morning he had decided to follow Gandalf and the Dwarves on their adventure. This felt very much the same, and he already knew that he was more than capable of taking the road not yet travelled.

He climbed out of bed, put on his robe and walked to the door of his room. He found that his step was lighter now than it had been in a very, very long time.

Bilbo soon found himself faced with the door to Thorin's bedroom. He did take in a deep breath and let it out before pressing his hand down on the door handle, but he did open that door and poked his head inside.

"Thorin?"

Thorin was hunched over a stack of papers on his desk, still wearing his boots, trousers and shirt. He straightened himself at the sound of Bilbo's voice, visibly surprised. "Bilbo, come in. I thought you'd gone to bed."

"I did," said Bilbo, a little nervously, but smiling, as he stepped inside and closed the door firmly behind him. The robe he was wearing was surely proof of it. "I changed my mind, however. Am I disturbing you?"

"Not at all," said Thorin, shuffling the papers he was studying to the side. "I am not that tired either. I can keep you company if you like."

"I, I would like that very much, in fact," said Bilbo, walking a little closer to Thorin. "I have come for a reason."

"Why don't you sit down close to the fire and tell me what's on your mind?" said Thorin warmly. "You must be cold in that robe."

"I would prefer to stand," replied Bilbo, taking the last few steps towards Thorin and the fire crackling in the hearth behind him.

"Of course, as you wish."

"Thorin," began Bilbo knowing that a knot was already rising in his throat and slowly started gutting his voice, "I want you to know that I've thought long and hard about this. Well, you know already, but all the same, what I mean is... I was hoping that... we could try again?"

Thorin looked almost disbelieving. "Try what?"

"What I ruined with my stupidity twice before, if you still want to," said Bilbo, his voice now only a wisp of its usual fullness.

"Bilbo, you were not stupid," said Thorin, inclining his forehead as he usually did when he felt particularly protective of someone.

"Perhaps not, but it certainly feels that way now."

"Are you certain?"

"I'm entirely certain," said Bilbo, pushing his chin forward.

"But you're nervous again," observed Thorin.

"Yes!" Bilbo blurted out in spite of himself. "Yes, I am, but I was nervous when I signed your contract and yet here we are."

Thorin smiled an exceptionally tender smile. "This is not a contract."

"I know. It's my life, and I choose to live it with you."

Thorin still seemed unconvinced. "Bilbo, don't do this for me."

"I am not. My reasons are purely selfish."

Thorin sighed and his shoulders slumped a little. "Very well," he said. "I suppose we could... try again. On one condition. Should you, at any time, start to feel uncomfortable, tell me, and you have my word that I will go no further."

"Understood," said Bilbo, suddenly remembering Balin's warning. Don't play with a Dwarf's desire. Sensible advice, if one thought well about it, but, at that moment, he knew that Thorin would have kept his word no matter what.

Bilbo raised his hands to Thorin's chest, laying them over his soft shirt and digging his fingers into it. Thorin gathered both of Bilbo's fists in his and kissed them as if they were more precious to him than everything around him.

"I'm ready now if you are," said Bilbo.

To his utter surprise, Thorin did not respond, nor did he look back to him. He simply kept his lips gently pressed against his knuckles and his eyes closed over that kiss. "Thorin?" asked Bilbo.

"I cannot do this," said Thorin, his head low, his gaze still removed from Bilbo's, allowing Bilbo's arms to fall back around his waist.

"Why not?"

Thorin looked back at him. He raised his hand to the collar of Bilbo's robe and dug gently under it. Bilbo's skin felt a little tender again under his touch. "It almost feels like I would..." Thorin began but seemed to lose his train of thought as he caressed the softness of Bilbo's chest.

"What?"

"Defile you."

"Thorin, you're being ridiculous. I'm not a pretty, unspoiled maiden," said Bilbo, rolling his eyes a bit. Even if that had been the case, he was quite sure that even an unspoiled maiden would not have been entirely discomfited with the prospect of being defiled by Thorin.

"You are beautiful," said Thorin, melancholically.

"And what are you?" said Bilbo, dodging the compliment. It did register in his mind, however, like the mark of hot iron on bare skin.

"I'm a great, blundering dwarf," said Thorin, shrugging. Modesty was not among the qualities he usually displayed, but it seemed that Bilbo's previous hesitancy had left a deeper mark than he had believed.

"No, Bombur is a great, blundering dwarf. You're... more of a dream," said Bilbo raising a hand to the locks of hair falling on Thorin's shoulder. Thorin looked him in the eye. He seemed to understand, but not really. "Can we stop making conversation now?"

Thorin placed both hands very gently around Bilbo's face and brushed a light thumb against his plump cheek. "I am sorry I lunged at you that way."

Bilbo smiled and his eyelids fluttered a bit without him wanting them to. "I was flattered," he said, putting his hand on Thorin's chest again.

"After you were through being scared," echoed Thorin.

Bilbo tried to wave it off, but Thorin passed his thumb slowly over his opening lips. He couldn't say anything anymore. He could only stare at Thorin, lost in the growing, scintillating darkness of his eyes, just as if he had been looking up into the open sky as its nightly blackness faded into the dark blue of dawn.

There was nothing threatening in those eyes, nothing to fear. Still, Bilbo felt a little twinge of anxiety stir in his stomach as Thorin leaned closer to him, sliding his thumb back from over Bilbo's mouth.

"It has been a long time," whispered Thorin more to himself, as if he had not been aware that he was saying it aloud.

Bilbo knew what he spoke of. When Thorin finally kissed him, it did feel like he had been waiting a long time to do it. From the slow tenderness with which he savoured that kiss, it was clear that it was longer than the one year that they had known each other, longer even than Bilbo had been alive. It was not like any kiss he had ever experienced before, even with Thorin. It was intoxicating and Bilbo found himself clinging to Thorin's shirt and to the hand that he still had wrapped around the hobbit's left ear. He felt Thorin's mouth curl into a smile and the kiss faded as quietly as it had begun.

Thorin lowered his hands around Bilbo's shoulders, looking like he wanted to do something grand such as picking him up in his arms and carrying him to his bed. But he couldn't even lift his own sword yet, not with the still healing wounds in his left arm and shoulder.

Bilbo smiled at him compassionately and for that short moment, his anxiety faded a little and he felt that the balance of power in this situation was not really as strongly tilted in Thorin's favour as he thought it was.

"I am asking you again. Are you sure about this?" asked Thorin, lowering his forehead for emphasis.

Bilbo nodded. "Balin told me not to tempt you again for nothing."

Thorin raised both eyebrows. "Did he?"

"Yes, he said it isn't wise to play with a Dwarf's desire."

Thorin's surprise faded quickly into a smile that seemed to agree, but he suddenly looked so tired. The dwarf that had been overwhelmed by his desire a few weeks before seemed to be years and miles away. It eased Bilbo's heart, but it also made him a little sad.

"Alright," said Thorin and looked sideways at his bed, which was already made, in rich deep blue silk and dark grey fur for a cover. "Then I suppose you should make yourself comfortable," he said, turning a little smile to Bilbo.

Bilbo nodded a little melancholically, then started unfastening his robe.

"Don't," said Thorin.

Bilbo looked up at him, leaving his robe alone and feeling grateful for it. He then glanced at Thorin's bed again and eventually walked the few steps to it. Part of him wished that he had been carried. The other part found the lack of ceremony somewhat reassuring. As he climbed into bed, among the soft sheets and glorious warm fur, it felt very much like he was simply about to settle down for a good night's sleep. It still felt that way and Bilbo felt strangely composed as he watched Thorin approach the bed with tentative steps. He sat down on the edge of it and bent down to take off his boots. There was nothing rushed about his gestures, nothing impatient. It was only when he started to remove his shirt that Bilbo felt a new sting of anxiety. Thorin fumbled a little with the lace around his neck and winced as he reached to pull the shirt over his head and free his injured left arm. Bilbo almost had a mind to help him, as he had done so many times before, but he thought better of it. He only watched half dazed as Thorin's beautiful long hair fell again across his naked back, covering part of the scar that persisted there. Then he watched the hint of his hands, over the cloud of fur that lay between them, unbuckling his belt and unfastening his black velvet trousers, thinking that he was not sure what to expect.

Thorin sat up slightly to slip off his trousers and soon the round, fuzzy contour of his bare knee became visible. Bilbo had seen Thorin's bare knee before, many times. He had seen the whole of him as he was now before, but this was very different. It helped that Thorin was not acting very differently. He did not seem changed by desire. He was the same Thorin that he knew and that he trusted. And that was the first thing that he had not expected. He had not expected him to remain so restrained and composed.

Thorin threw his trousers on the chair that his shirt lay on and lay down carefully at Bilbo's side. He settled on his back first and breathed in deeply, then turned his head to Bilbo, who was watching him quietly, half covered by the grey fur and clutching the lapels of his robe slightly. He only became aware that he was doing that when Thorin looked down at his hands and then into his eyes. Thorin smiled and Bilbo smiled back suddenly more embarrassed than he was anxious. Thorin turned on his side and burrowed his head a bit into his pillow as if he was trying to find a prime spot for sleeping. In his tender eyes, Bilbo could see that he too was aware of the possible silliness of their situation. For a small moment, it felt like they were simply friends again and like they were about to do something that was silly for friends to do, but that was only for a moment. Thorin's eyes acquired a kind of glow, as if they burned from the inside, and Bilbo knew then that there was no turning back, that this would change everything between them.

Thorin extended a hand to Bilbo's face and caressed him with the back of it. Bilbo leaned his cheek into that caress.

"May I?" asked Thorin, and Bilbo knew that he was asking for permission to undress him. "I won't look at anything you don't want me to see."

Bilbo nodded, smiling. This was so far removed from what he had expected Thorin to be like in this moment.

"You've already seen me undressed more times than I can count," said Thorin, in a somewhat reprobating tone as he rose on his elbow and reached gently to the collar of Bilbo's robe.

"Yes, but I haven't seen anything indecent either," teased Bilbo.

"I will have to take your word for it," smirked Thorin, slowly pulling aside the covering fabric from Bilbo's chest.

"It's true. They kept throwing me out. I suspect they wanted to leave you with that choice."

"Were you sorry?" Thorin teased. For a while he looked proud and defying again.

"Well, I wasn't really thinking of that at the time. You were injured and-" Thorin continued to eye him with dark irony. "I, uh, a little." Thorin's gaze became tame again. "But of what I have seen, I think you look rather nice."

Thorin shot him another of his piercing looks, then refocused his attention on revealing of Bilbo's body whatever he thought would be decent. His movements were precise but very gentle, peeling Bilbo's clothing away slowly, and purposefully avoiding any touch to his skin. As he reached Bilbo's waist, he drew the cover of grey furs over him and threw the robe on the armchair near his bed.

Not little to his own surprise, Bilbo dared lift a hand to the scar on Thorin's arm and caressed his warm skin.

"Do these bother you?" asked Thorin.

"No, I have seen you look much worse."

After that, Bilbo found that his conversational skills suddenly left him. His hand remained on Thorin's tensed arm, and it was in fact the sheer pleasure of sensing the thick, strong muscle there filling the palm of his hand that kept him from saying anything else. He could also feel his breath hitched against his throat and his heart racing he knew not where.

Thorin seemed to lean in to kiss him, but he stopped before his mouth connected with Bilbo's "I need you to be sure," he said.

"I am," said Bilbo, not even knowing where he had managed to find his voice so fast.

The look in Thorin's eyes was nothing like the brewing flame from several weeks before. This was more like a mild summer breeze. It should have made Bilbo feel perfectly safe as Thorin slipped under the fur and moved slowly over him. Instead, Bilbo's pulse shot to a loud chorus of rapid thuds, his chest heaving as if he had run all the way up the mountain and back. Still appearing very controlled, Thorin finished his lean by placing his left cheek on Bilbo's chest instead of kissing him, as Bilbo was sure that he had intended. His hair draped the sides of Bilbo's torso, like a warm, lighter version of the fur cover. It felt so much softer, however. It felt like something Bilbo wanted to feel again.

"Bilbo, I cannot go on if you're so afraid. We should leave it for another time," he said, sounding genuinely concerned.

This was indeed not the Thorin that Balin was talking about, or that Bilbo was fearing against his own reason. This was a generous, affectionate, impossibly thoughtful Thorin who was willing to deny his own desire in order to ensure that Bilbo's sentiments were not disturbed in any way. His furry beard felt warm and comforting over Bilbo's booming heart, and Bilbo found that enough courage had returned to him to reach to the top of Thorin's head, which was all he could see of him at that moment.

"It's not fear, Thorin," he said, coiling his fingers into the thickness of the dwarf's hair. "I don't know what it is, but I'll be fine, I promise."

Thorin raised his head and looked at Bilbo with a pair of enlarged eyes that threatened to make his heartbeat stop completely. He was still hesitating and even started to say something, but Bilbo, his hand still entangled in his hair, pulled him back down to where Thorin had initially intended to go and kissed him as fiercely as he knew how. When it was over, Thorin looked a little startled, but seemed to find Bilbo's bold statement convincing enough as he settled himself more comfortably over Bilbo and started another kiss, but a little less daring. Bilbo's heartbeat faded slowly back to normal while the extreme closeness that he was now experiencing with Thorin filled even the darkest corners of his mind with a growing warmth.

Thorin moved his kisses slowly from the corner of Bilbo's mouth, down the side of his chin and lower on his neck. Bilbo instinctively raised his chin to give him better access.

"Oh, this is nice," he purred, smiling.

Thorin laughed mildly. "Do you want me to just continue kissing you?"

"Huh, yes," said Bilbo between breaths.

He would have liked to give something back to Thorin other than pleased sighs, maybe a caress, but he was too helplessly lost in that wonderful, lifting sensation to really do anything for fear it was just a dream that would dissipate at his slightest move. The kisses had reached his belly button and strands of Thorin's hair were trailing down his chest. He only now realised that, in the meantime, Thorin had wedged a knee between his legs. As the kissing moved back up, his knee drove upwards as well until his thigh was heavy and hot against Bilbo's. Unable to resist the impulse, he folded his leg around Thorin's. Something more primal was stirring in him, but he would have been more than content if Thorin had simply continued kissing him for the rest of his life.

It felt as if it would go on for that long until it suddenly stopped. When Bilbo opened his eyes, Thorin's massive chest was hanging above him and something new and even more wonderful had begun happening between their bodies. It made Bilbo feel like he was rapidly melting into a pool of molten lava under Thorin's slow and careful movements. It soon seemed to grow overwhelming for Thorin. He allowed his eyes to fall shut and was whispering something to himself in his secret tongue that Bilbo could not understand, but that sounded almost like a mix between the purring of an old, portly cat and the buzz of one of Beorn's bees. His eyebrows were descending together, but there was a smile forming on his lips. As he stopped driving himself forward, he leaned on his elbows and glued his smiling face to Bilbo's cheek.

"What are you saying?" asked Bilbo softly.

"I had forgotten how good this feels," he said, still purr-buzzing, but more to Bilbo's understanding. "You feel... so good." His words flowed into an absorbing kiss that pushed Bilbo's face to the side.

It was sweet and satisfying until Thorin pushed a little too hard and Bilbo squeaked in surprise.

"Sorry," said Thorin, resting his head on Bilbo's shoulder.

"No, it's fine," said Bilbo, laying a hand on Thorin's waist

Thorin had stopped moving and he was shivering slightly. His forehead was pressing against the blade of Bilbo's shoulder, bone on bone.

"Are you all right?" asked Bilbo.

"Give me a moment," said Thorin, readjusting his head until his nose was flush against Bilbo's jaw.

"You can... do that again," said Bilbo.

He felt a whiff of warm air on his neck as Thorin exhaled, smiling. "Not a good idea. Not now."

Bilbo rubbed Thorin's back gently, or whatever he could reach of it, then leaned his head against his.

"See, you're not the only one who finds this challenging," said Thorin.

"I am finding that out."

Thorin hummed another purr-like hum and started kissing the side of Bilbo's face tenderly again. He resumed his slow, delightful dance, which Bilbo now followed quite naturally until they both found themselves lying flat on their backs, covered in sweat and entirely happy.

They lay there for a few good seconds until, prompted by Thorin's closing arm, Bilbo shifted to lie on his chest. His skin was hot and moist, and quite pleasant to the touch. His heartbeat was a still little loud and his chest rose a little high, taking Bilbo with it and making him feel like he was being lolled to sleep. Thorin had also pulled the blanket over his shoulders, which made him all the more sure that awareness would not be with him for much longer.

"Can we do this again tomorrow?" he asked, brushing his fingers over a scar just below Thorin's breast.

Thorin's chest rumbled subtly. "Whenever the mood should strike you."

"Unless you're otherwise engaged in matters of the state?" asked Bilbo, shifting his head back to look up at Thorin.

"Even then I might be persuaded."

Bilbo smiled and resettled himself on Thorin's warm chest. "I wouldn't do that to you," he said and pulled the rest of the blanket over Thorin, to the level of his own nose. He felt a kiss being deposited on the top of his head, and then he fell sound asleep.

                                                                                           ***

Thorin stirred abruptly from a dream. He couldn't remember any of it, although a second earlier it had all been sharp focus and raw emotion. The only thing that seemed safe to surmise was that it had not been a dark dream. There was no heaviness to his heart, only alertness.

Something woolly was touching against his throat. It was Bilbo's hair. He was curled up to Thorin's chest, his knuckles crossed under his chin. He had always looked so peaceful in his sleep, even at dangerous times during the quest. It was a peace of mind that could only come from a life lived in comfort. It was something that Thorin's heart had envied at first, but also something that he felt responsible to watch over. If he himself had ever been able to sleep like that, it was long lost to his memory.

Thorin kissed the top of Bilbo's head and extracted himself carefully from their embrace. Bilbo seemed unaffected, as the fur blanket was quite enough to keep him warm. Thorin put on his trousers and got up.

He stole through the darkness and made his way to the throne room. And there he looked upon his throne. The Arkenstone was back where it belonged and his grandfather's crown lay on the seat, glinting dimly in the light of the night torches. Not yet, but soon to be his. The prospect of that was somewhat overwhelming now that he finally had reason to face it. He had not really thought of what he would do once the kingdom had been reclaimed. Of course, he knew what he had to do. It was easy for anyone to see that a lot of work was required to make it into a home again, and especially a prosperous one. What he did not know was if he was able to bear the responsibility. He had been raised under the close guidance of his father and grandfather. He had seen them rule, but his life had been so much different from theirs, and his task at hand so much more daunting. And he still did not feel like himself. He grew tired much too quickly. His mind wandered too easily. He would have needed his former strength and more to be King under the Mountain.

And yet, everyone else seemed to trust him, and love him, especially Bilbo, who was now sleeping soundly, with not a doubt in his heart that Thorin was as steady as the mountain he would rule. And that gave him courage to face whatever the future had in store for him.

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Note from the author:

Thank you SO VERY MUCH for reading, voting and commenting! You make me happy! :)

If you enjoyed this story and you'd like to see how Thorin and Bilbo's adventures continue, you can read the ongoing sequel called My Path Has Led Me Here from my list of stories.  Sorry I can't link it here, but apparently the Wattpad story editor doesn't do links :(