A Shot in the dark (Bagginshield)

Chapter Forty-Five

Thorin froze for exactly five seconds before responding with a passion that surprised him. The king cupped his cheek with one hand while the other laced through his hair, and tilted his head back until the angle was perfect. Bilbo relaxed and leaned closer as he released Thorin's braids in favor of the rest of his hair. Sadly he didn't get to enjoy the lovely experience for very long as laughter and groans interrupted them.

"Ha! I won! Pay up, all of ya!"

"Really, Thorin? You couldn't wait until we got back to Erebor before mauling Bilbo? You lost me my bet, you bastard!"

"I won the other one! Bilbo acted first; you all saw it!"

"Ugh, uncle, no one wants to see that!"

"Bifur, stop with the gestures! Thorin doesn't need any more ideas!"

"I'm disappointed in you, cousin. I thought you would at least have the balls to make the first move."

"Is this really a surprise though? This is Bilbo we're talking about here."

"I could have lived the rest of my life without watching my uncle shove his tongue down our burglar's throat..."

"Enough chatter! I want my gold from you all!"

"Oh shut up and wait, Dáin. It's not as if you need the gold."

"Green is an ugly color on you, Dwalin. Not that you can get much uglier than you are now..."

"Is Bilbo standing on his boots? Huh. I didn't think he was that short!"

Bilbo groaned and buried his face against Thorin's shoulder as he tried to ignore the peanut gallery behind them. "I should have seen this coming..."

"Dead. They're all dead," the king growled, his hands sliding down to cup the Hobbit's waist.

"If you kill them then who is going to clean up the dragon droppings in Erebor?" he reminded the warrior, smiling against the leather and iron.

The Dwarf sniffed. "I'll hire the Men of Lake-town. They won't mind as long as I pay them well."

"Oh like Bard is going to let you anywhere near his people after you threw them out," he scoffed, lifting his head to give the other a dirty look. "You still owe them an apology by the way. Bard in particular."

Thorin looked as if he would rather face Smaug and Azog again at the same time. "It has been... brought to my attention that I... may have been unfair to him."

"You accused him of trying to steal me away from you," Bilbo reminded him, not feeling an ounce of pity for the king. "Then you broke your word and threw him and his Men out of Erebor. The same Men who then went to war on your behalf in order to protect Erebor from your enemies. You owe him an apology, the Arkenstone, and a new damn city."

"Can't I give him some gold and call it even?" the king groused, looking down at him with pleading blue eyes.

Bilbo still wasn't moved. "Thorin, he saved my life," he said quietly, closing his eyes as he thought back to his friend. "He was willing to follow me to Mordor even though he was wounded and weak. He nearly died trying to give me time to escape the Nazgûl. I owe him everything."

"I... I suppose I was unfair to him," the Dwarf admitted slowly, looking pained by the admission. "He did nothing to deserve my ire or hate. It was my own madness that drove me to think the worse of him and his Men..."

"Yes, it was," he agreed, opening his eyes to meet Thorin's gaze. "There is nothing but friendship between Bard and I. He's... I think of him the same way you think of Dwalin. As my brother and friend."