Author's Note: In the book, Tolkien wrote that when Thorin's company was in Mirkwood they slept closely huddled together because of the dark and the cold. This drabble kind of emerged out of fangirl thoughts I had when I re-read "The Hobbit" a short time ago. Also, title inspired by Mumford and Sons' song by the same name. Movie-bookverse combo, possible spoilers, but not really.

Thorin was a dwarf, and as such, he had spent a considerable amount of time underground. Whether in the mines of Erebor or the winding passages of Ered Luin, he had endured complete darkness and had been deprived of the kiss of sunlight on his skin. Thorin knew what it meant to function without the light of day, but until he entered Mirkwood he knew not of the great desire for the light of day.

Every so often, Thorin would notice Bilbo startle rather inexplicably next to him. The hobbit's eyes had all the seeming of a trapped pony that was restrained from bolting forward. This is no place for a shireling, thought Thorin, then he made the internal note that is was no place for mountain-dwellers either. The dwarf was aware that hobbit eyes were sharper than those of many other races, and Bilbo was no exception. Perhaps Bilbo could see things in the gloom of Mirkwood that caused him to be so on edge. Bastard creatures and bulbous insect eyes were essentially hid from the sight of dwarves, but not lost on the sharp eyes of hobbits.

Thorin did not want to think about what horrendous creatures made Mirkwood their home. The dwarf-leader's mind was preoccupied by thoughts of making it through the forest and closer to Erebor; he had no use of intrusive thoughts of illusive beasts. The weight of his supply-laden pack grounded him firmly in the moment, and served to remind him of the kindness of strangers. These were among the things that kept Thorin and his company trudging onward, as far as they could travel before darkness consumed them.

The approach of nightfall was slow and insidious. Shadows crept down murky tree branches in a practiced ritual. Light disappeared through the trees like water seeping through a colander. The air stilled, but the woods came alive with creatures waking from the slumbers. Thorin was not entirely oblivious to the larger creatures that stirred, but he gathered from the hobbit's heightened vigilance and increased startle response that there were many things that evaded him.

Bilbo, whose sight was deemed best, was among those at the head of the group of dwarves. With the notable exception of Thorin who flanked Bilbo's left side, the dwarves fell into single file as they dredged on through the gloomy forest. Footfalls that would otherwise not seem loud thumped through the stillness of the blackened leaves that barely clung to half-dead trees. Bilbo was very adept at travelling unnoticed, and Thorin guessed that if it were just the Halfling passing through Mirkwood, he would go unseen and unheard.

Even in the growing darkness, Bilbo's caught sight of unfortunate insects and birds tangled in glue-like cable. They were massive webs, spun with thick rope by an arachnid that must be impossibly large. The hobbit shuddered at the thought, trying to shove it away. By this point, he was almost used to hearing the shuffling and scurrying of unknown things around them. He still disliked the sense that a million pairs of eyes were watching them, but there was nothing to be done about it. Bilbo felt a different set of eyes on him, ones that were not unfamiliar to him. He squared his shoulders and made certain that his step was sure.

The quality of night in Mirkwood was not akin to those that induced fright into young children. No, the fear this darkness brought could not easily be quelled by the soft touch of a mother, or driven away by the wisp of a candle. It became truly pitch-black; what little light remained in Mirkwood had leeched into the sky above. Even void of light, Bilbo was acutely aware of the stirrings of creatures. He could see the shapes of large squirrels scampering about, which went evidently unnoticed by the dwarves.

Although Thorin was ignorant to the creatures of the night, he did, however, hear the stumbling of his company behind him. "We will rest here for the night," the dwarf leader proclaimed, his words lingered in the heavy air of the dense forest.

Bilbo was relieved that they were stopping for the night, but he felt a pang of worry rip through him about the impeding declaration of night watchers. Bearing the gift of keenest eyesight within their group of fourteen, he would surely be the logical choice for first watch. The hobbit held his breath while he waited for Thorin to dictate the order.

"Fili, you watch first. Kili, you watch second. And Bofur, you will take the last watch," Thorin said curtly. Bilbo let out a small sigh, thankful he was not listed among that night's guard.

It was impossible to pick a specific spot to camp because of the absolute darkness, so they laid down their bedrolls slightly off the haggard path. They certainly did not want to stray far into the depths of Mirkwood. The company briefly considered having a watch fire going, but when it was lit they found that it drew far too many creatures near them. So, in utter blackness, they huddled close to one another.

The dwarves drew their kin close, so they would have a warm body and a thread of familiarity in the otherwise lonely night. Having spent much -if not all- of their lives together, it did not take the dwarves long to find those they sought. Dwarf bodies fell easily into familial enclaves which, Thorin noticed, left Bilbo as an outsider. Thorin too, found himself favoured by the lonesomeness of the place and under the cover of dark. The dwarf leader, being familiar with his company, quickly went through the list of dwarves in his mind, mentally pairing or grouping them: Fili is on watch, but no doubt close to Kili; Dwalin, Balin; Oin, Gloin; Bifur, Bofur, Bombur; Dori, Nori, Ori; Bilbo…

Dwarves fiercely protect those who have protected them in the past, it was the honorable thing to do. The only way Thorin could assure Bilbo's safety was if the small frame of the hobbit were wrapped in his own strong arms. The air had grown cold in Mirkwood, and Thorin recalled fondly the warmth of the hobbit pulled into his chest. The dwarf king smiled to himself in the darkness, remembering the relief that flooded over him atop the Carrock when he learned that Bilbo was safe, and the gratitude he felt in owing his safety to Bilbo Baggins of Bag End. So it was settled, the hobbit of the Shire would sleep nowhere if it were not with Thorin.

"To ensure the security of each of the members of the group I would advise that you sleep close to a dwarf." Unmistakably Thorin: diplomatic, measured, not a hint of emotion. "Might I offer my service?"

"You need not be at my service, Master Oakenshield," Bilbo chided, "But if it is companionship you are offering, I would be much obliged." With those words, Thorin found himself smiling once again at the hobbit, though said hobbit missed the rare sight on account of the darkness.

Thorin kept a careful hand on Bilbo's arm as he settled himself against a large tree trunk. Once he was comfortably reclined against the bark, he gently guided the hobbit down to sit next to him. Bilbo sat stiffly next to the dwarf at first, longing to move closer, but not certain where boundaries were to be drawn. The dwarf king-in-exile also wanted the hobbit to move closer, so he boldly snaked an arm around him to pull the soft body closer. With the hobbit nestled near, Thorin's mind felt more at ease. He relaxed further as Bilbo sunk comfortably into a lulled state of semi-consciousness. Thorin's hand rested on the hobbit's stomach, he could feel Bilbo's breathing become deeper and more even, almost asleep. Then, Thorin felt the being beside him start – heart racing, muscles tense, eyes wide in the unseeing blackness.

"Did you hear that?" Bilbo asked in a hushed tone.

"No," replied Thorin.

"I heard something in the woods…" the hobbit shook slightly. Even with the dwarf guarding over him, he felt uneasy about the sound in the woods.

They sat quietly together, waiting for the sound. It did not return even after several minutes, so Thorin wrote it off as one of the many night time occurrences they could look forward to in Mirkwood. Bilbo, however, was still a puddle of malaise next to the stoic dwarf. While Thorin was oblivious to many of the things that Bilbo could see and hear in the forest, he was not blind to the unsettled body that was so indulgently close to his own. To still the rapid beating of the halfling's heart, Thorin pulled him even closer, so that his mess of ashen locks could be nuzzled into.

"I can't see what you see, nor can I hear the things that you hear, but I will protect you against all that I can in this forest," Thorin whispered into one of Bilbo's pointed ears.

Bilbo sighed, relaxing into the broad chest that radiated a comforting heat. The dwarf tangled his fingers in Bilbo's hair, massaging away any lingering worry about the sound in the night. He found himself soothed too by the rhythmic motions of his fingers. He noted that the hobbit smelled of honey, like he had eaten so much of it at Beorn's that it coursed through his veins and seeped through his pores. In the dark, Thorin stole a kiss before succumbing to sleep.

It seemed that the collective will of the company kept the monsters of Mirkwood at bay. And Thorin's arms around Bilbo quelled the nightmares that threatened to surface in the night.