Okay, just so you know the one thing I hate most in the world is editing and the things I edit I end up hating, so no editing for this guy. If you think it should be edited please go ahead and volunteer to beta it for me, I would Love you for it.

Cheers and enjoy~ Scarlettcomet

Oh how he ached. It seemed that each of the muscles in his body was crying out in protest to the strain he had put them under. Even muscles that Bilbo had never before realized existed protested to his excessive usage of them. Indeed, life in the Shire had not put much use to his muscles so everything h had endured in the past weeks had been something new, not only to him, but also to his aching muscles. He only had himself to blame for his pain, though, this he knew. It had been his decision, though perhaps one ill thought through, to join the dwarfs on their quest just as it was he who decided to ask for lessons in weaponry. It was a necessary evil because even though he ached from head to toe he had gained some respect. His companions knew he was trying now, and that at least was some consolation.

Not that at this point he felt his mastery of swordsmanship had increased from his skill level following the lesson Gandalf had taught him. Instead of beginning Bilbo with sword lessons Thorin had decided that to understand how to use a sword as a weapon Bilbo should have at least basic knowledge of how to use his body itself as a weapon. Not so he could take on orcs in hand to hand combat, but that he would understand how to move his body on its own, before adding the complication of sharp metal into the mix.

This was from where the wrestling had come about. The hobbit understood the reasoning, but that didn't mean the idea seemed any less of a folly to him. The very thought of Thorin on top of him, because he would surely end up on top, was more than enough to make Bilbo to harden. He wanted to be beneath Thorin more than almost anything else, but not in a way that would only lead to humiliation instead of release.

The first day of lessons had been a trying one even before the lessons with Thorin had begun. The company had reached the end of the swampy woods that had been all Bilbo had known of, outside the Shire. Had he thought that traveling in the forest was treacherous, the planes were even more so. On one side of the planes lived the elves of Rivendell, while the other side was filled with orc encampments and warg riders. Out from tree cover they were totally exposed to both the elves, who no one expected to react well to the company's quest, as well as in sight of any wargs that might be within two miles.

The day had been too long, though no orcs had been sighted there was not moment they could relax or take cover either. As noon approached it had been declared by Gandalf that they would not take the chance of being sighted on the unawares and so they would not rest and therefore lunch was nonexistent. Dwarfs and hobbit alike were equally appalled so, as the distance traveled grew, fuses shrunk.

Bilbo had been feeling particularly sorry for himself around tea time for after his lesson with Gandalf he had been even more hungry than usual, but at the time Thorin's words surrounding his night actives had filled his stomach with enough butterflies to alleviate any stomach pains. By the time he had begun to remember his lack of morning sustenance they had already set about traveling for the day. Around noon the hobbit was so hungry he was beginning to feel quite ill. He dare not open his mouth though, despite his hunger he had not forget his resolution for the day to impress Thorin and he knew, without a doubt, that asking to stop for a bite to eat would only bring further doubt upon himself.

Tea time, though, was when his resolve to make a better impression began to crumble. Surely he must have lost half a stone already in the day, with nothing to eat and more than ten miles covered. Just as he opened his mouth to complain to Gandalf though, Thorin turned moved to walk beside him.

"So do you truly have no experience with swords, my burglar?"

The dwarf had turned to face him, even as they walked, his eyes appraising Bilbo's body as if attempting to find the answer to his question written somewhere on his flesh.

"No, the Shire never had much use for swords, though in the year 2911, the coldest winter ever known to the Shire the Brandywine River froze over and white wolves crossed into Buckland," he paused for a moment to glance over at Thorin, making sure he wasn't rambling before he continued.

"When it was realized that the wolves had crossed over Horn-call of Buckland was used to summon the Bucklanders to drive them out. Those in Buckland still talk about it today. That was the last time the Horn call has ever been used. But, in my family, the great story revolves around my great, great-grand-uncle Bullroarer, who was actually large enough to use a real horse. In 2747 a hoard of goblins led by Chief Golfimbul invaded the Shire and uncle Bullroarer led the defense of the hobbit folk from the goblins."

Bilbo was in find story telling form but pause to take a breath and gage his audience that had grown during the tale. Thorin was still beside him and gave him an indulgent smile so he continued with his tale.

"My uncle actually charged the chief goblin head on and with a swing of his club and the goblin's head flew clear off and it rolled into a rabbit hole. Actually, that was how golf came to be invented, at least in Hobbition."

Beside him Thorin chuckled easily.

"The next time we run into orcs maybe we should have a game of golf, highest score wins?"

After that the conversations can to a halt, the company increasing their speed to cover a few more miles before night fell. Bilbo felt relief swell in his gut when the company finally came to a halt for the evening as darkness closed in around them.

A fire had been started in the center of the campsite and dinner was beginning to roast when Thorin approach the hobbit from behind, making him jump in surprise.

"God Thorin! Don't sneak up on a fellow like that! It just isn't a decent thing to do!"

"A burglar should be a little more difficult than most to sneak up on, don't you think? Anyway, before dinner is ready we might as well have our lesson."

Even as the king spoke Bilbo's stomach let out an unhappy growl at the thought of putting off food any longer than was absolutely necessary, but with a sigh he closed his eyes for a moment, reminding himself of all the things he could gain for getting in man's good graces. His eyes opened as he sighed once again.

"Of course. I shalln't expect that I do particularly well though I will try my best."

"I would hope so," Thorin grumbled, before pulling the hobbit a little out of the center of camp.

"Take out your sword; I want to see how much Gandalf managed to teach you this morning. Fight me."

Without pausing after the words left his lips the dwarf drew his sword. The results were truly pathetic. In ten seconds flat Bilbo lay on the ground with the other's sword at his neck. His own sord lay at least ten feet away, well out of reach.

Thorin sighed and stepped back, covering his eyes with his hand. After a moment he finally uncovered his eyes, moving his hand to run through his hair in frustration.

"I suppose to expect more was stupid. Though I have to admit that in all my life I doubt I have ever seen someone less skilled with a sword. Even the children that I train have more talent than you.

"I have a hard time thinking were to begin with teaching you, everything about you and that sword was wrong. It's like you have no idea how to fight at all! Everything about the way you held yourself was wrong, and therefore everything about how you interacted with that sword was wrong."

Thorin turned away, facing the black grasslands.

"When you were a lad Bilbo, did you ever get in any scuffles; did you wrestle with a brother, cousin, anything like that?" Near the end of his question he turned back around.

"Of course not! I am and always have been a respectable hobbit, until Gandalf convinced me to come off on this adventure with you that is. My mother taught me better than to go get in fights with the town's ruffian's."

"Well then Halfling, were are going to have to teach you how to be less respectable then. I want you to understand how one uses there body to fight. It will help with how clumsily you are and it will help you move your body properly in combat."

Bilbo gasped.

"Surely you don't mean for me to fight orcs with my bare hands do you? Even if I ever became respectable at unrespectable things such as fighting I doubt I could take down an armed opponent."

Something resembling at least a little a chuckle emanated from the dwarf's chest as he replied.

"I wouldn't expect one of my own dwarfs to do take down armed orcs when unarmed, let alone you. We shall wrestle, though, in order to increase your general fighting competence. So, to begin we'll tussle. After we determine how competent you are in this endeavor we'll decide how to proceed."

The two of them stood for a moment, just facing each other before Thorin sprung. It came out of nowhere. One moment the dwarf was unmoving, before him and the next he was in the air, pouncing in attack.

For the attack being so unexpected Bilbo felt he began reasonably well. With reflexes faster than he had believed he possessed he crouched down, rolling out of Thorin's path of attack. The hobbit still stood crouched as he observed his attacker. The dwarf sent him a predatory smile before he made another leap. This one Bilbo saw coming and instead of rolling backwards again he spun to the spot just vacated by the bearded man.

He could help but smile at least a little. True, it wasn't as if he was beating Thorin but at least he hadn't lost as quickly as he had with the swords. Though he wondered just how hard he was trying. He had distracted himself though, and only saw the dwarf flying at him in the last seconds before impact. So he did the only thing he could think of: meet him in the air.

It probably hadn't been the best choice, in retrospect he would admit that easily. He should have evaded him until he had found some advantage instead of trying to win a battle that would rest on skill and strength but hindsight always has been twenty-twenty. In the moment though, when Bilbo sprung up from the ground to meet to oncoming on slot of dwarf he thought of no of this.

When he hit the ground with more than two hundred pounds of dwarf on top of him, though, he did. With every attempt to struggle free of Thorin's iron grip he became a little more desperate, he could just lose like this! What kind of impression would that make? So as a last ditch attempt to free himself his knee came up against Thorin groin, drawing out a howl.

It worked, the hold on him loosened just enough for him to break free. He wished he hadn't though. Before then had just been a friendly tussle, nothing too harmful, no damage to be done. Now Bilbo feared for his life. Thorin's eyes were black with rage.

"You are going to regret that my little hobbit," the dwarf's voice was almost too low to make out in the wind.

This time Bilbo didn't even see him move. Not even when he was in the air, he just felt the weight on top of him, crushing him. Both of his wrists ended up behind his back. His legs were spread as Thorin slid a leg in between then. The leg came up against his groin, just resting there, not designed to cause pain yet at least.

That was the moment Bilbo realized he was hard. Hard, absolutely, rock hard. It wasn't just some stirring in his pants, it was undeniable lust and there was no way he could hide it. Thorin held him pinned and helpless. If the dwarf wanted anything there was no way he could stop him. A curl in his stomach let the hobbit know just how much he liked that: the feeling of being helpless underneath the object of his desire.

The knee on him shifted some, pressing up just a little further against cock. It was a little bit uncomfortable now. His shoulders hurt more than he had thought they would, his groin was absolutely painful. Even disregarting Thorin's knee digging in to his crotch his cock throbbed. He wanted friction. It didn't matter what it entitled.

With a low groan in his throat he thrust his hips up, try, desperately to find relief.

At that though, Thorin growled, yanking his arms up further behind his pain drawing a cry of pain.

"And here I thought you were getting enough at night from your right hand to keep you in check. Obviously not. Maybe we should tire you out now so you won't wake some of us when we are trying to sleep."

Thorin moved one of his hands to Bilbo's face, yanking his chin up so their eyes met. Their lips were so close, Bilbo thought he might die from want. He could actually feel the dwarf's beard scratch his face, hot breath filling his mouth.

Suddenly, with a burst of courage Bilbo moved his face even closer, straining his shoulders for half an inch more before their lips met.

Everything about it was hot. Thorin's breath on his mouth, his tongue sparing with the other, lips that seemed to burn his and a beard that just barely scratched. A second later it was all gone and the dwarf was standing above him, staring down with cold eyes.

"Food should be ready. I doubt you want to be late for that."

With that Thorin was gone, leaving Bilbo on the ground cock aching and lips on fire with a soft smile.

After a few minutes he stood and made his way back to the fire and grabbed a bowl of stew, his stomach roared as he waited in line, bringing smiles to the lips of his compactions. He sat beside Gandalf to eat his food.

The next few days past in a blur, each morning bled into the next, but he never got the memories of his evening lessons mixed together. The next evening Thorin had begun teaching him how to fight with his hands. There had yet to be a repeat of the first night and the brush of lips but after each lesson he was still aching hard and he knew sooner or later something would have to change.

Let me know how you feel about this piece, my muse abandoned me for a little while while I was writing and you should know that I love your options.

So let me know your opinions and suggestions in the reviews, I would love you for it.