Author note: Ok so I just couldn't leave it at that, just way too sad. I can't be that cruel to Thorin. Sooooooo here's the sequel! Hope you guys enjoy!

Disclaimer: don't own it

Warnings: Major feels, and fluff. Loooots of fluff.

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Of Oakenshield's and Wooden Toys

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Thorin Oakenshield was not a particularly romantic dwarf. He was optimistic but practical, and held no disillusions as to his opportunities for finding his One. As the exiled king leading a homeless people, across the lands of men he hardly could be bothered with relationships. His duty to his people superseded any wish he might have to search for his One and for years the thoughts about the tug on his heart to search faded away.

That relative peace was kicked out the door in the instant that Thorin locked eyes with a pair of warm and smiling deep chocolate orbs.

The decision that this toymaker was exceedingly dangerous was both accepted and rejected by Thorin by his heart and mind. On one hand his mind said that he was dangerous to Thorin's sense of duty and his focus on reclaiming his home. On the other hand his long buried, forgotten and rather lonely heart was crying for joy at his Ones close proximity.

The next few moments in the others Dwarfs Company sealed the king's fate.

He was utterly smitten.

Though his more rational mind was wary of the smiling eyes and gentle personality, Thorin couldn't help but be at ease around Bofur.

Soon enough he found himself bringing the boys around to the market square more often, each time he witnessed his One interacting with his nephews only serving to reinforce the growing feelings of possessiveness that appeared every time he saw the toymaker interact with anyone other than him.

But Thorin kept an iron bound grip on his emotions and never even hinted at what he felt for the other dwarf that was lurking about under the surface begging to be released. Still as years past and Bofur remained unattached and near Thorin's little family, the king couldn't help but wonder if maybe the other sensed their bond and that was the reason he stayed so close. His heart secretly yearned for such a development, but Thorin ruthlessly put such hopes aside.

He kept silent through the years that Fili and Kili grew, and when they started the quest and eventually reclaimed Erebor, he also remained silent. Little could he have known that he remained silent for too long, for fate is a fickle thing, and she can always decide to take something that we have had away to show us just how much we miss it when it is gone.

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Standing now amidst grieving comrades and family, Thorin's heart and mind finally agreed on something concerning their One for the first time.

"We should have told him."

The cry rebounded though his thoughts endlessly and rode the waves of grief that would never abate. There was an empty place in his mind now where the awareness of his One had resided, waiting for them to be fully joined. Now it was achingly silent, never to fill his mind with its pleasant buzz again.

There was no comfort he could offer the grieving kin of his One, for his own torment was as strong as theirs. None the less he placed a hand on the shaking shoulder of Bombur and murmured a quiet Khuzdull consolation to a numb looking Bifur.

He could feel the worried gaze of Balin, but he was assured that Dwalin would defend his mental state.

Dwarves are not silent in their grief, but the royal line was always more reserved than most and as such Thorin had already released the initial torrent of pain that plagued his soul. He was more inclined now to withdraw into himself and suffer in silence.

When he could bear to be in the room no longer, he went to check on his nephews. Finding them peacefully sleeping only sent a now painfully precious flash of living smiling eyes and the hat now clutched in his hands being placed on a small dark haired head. It was the memory of the day that Bofur discovered their lineage.

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Bofur was painting his nephews names on a pair of knights and had requested to know their clan name for the completion of the toys. His nephew's enthusiastic and innocent reply had made the toymakers eyes bug out of his head. He had looked at Thorin with shock and a bit of awe, and that look had rather pleased the king even if he would never admit it.

"Yer a Drurin? But…that would make yer family royals.."

It had taken two weeks of reassuring the toymaker to get Bofur to speak to them normally again, to remind him that they were his friends and as such equal despite class differences.

When a time of hardship hit Erin Luid and jobs disappeared into the sunset, Thorin was never so glad to have a friend in Bofur.

With no jobs Thorin struggled to feed his nephews and himself, and while it worked for awhile a dwarf cannot survive on one small meal a day for long. When he collapsed on one of his weekly visits to Bofur's stalls, his embarrassment was only partly overshadowed by his happiness that someone cared enough to freak out as badly as Bofur did then when he looked up at the muffled thumping noise to see his friend on the ground.

Thorin didn't remember much of the next few days, only snippets of gentle hands soothing his hurts when they became too much for him to keep silent, feeding him good tasting broth and humming soft tunes to ease his mind when he woke from nightmares of his past battles and dragon fire in the sky.

Several times he woke from such a nightmare to find himself wrapped securely in blankets and surrounded by gentle and strong arms, keeping him anchored through the sickness that ravaged his body.

When he finally woke and stayed coherent he was in his own bed in the small house he had for his kin. And though he felt as if he had fought off an entire warg pack by himself, the room no longer spun and he wasn't achingly hungry for the first time in a long while.

Glancing wearily about, Thorin saw a chair next to his bed, and occupying the chair was Bofur. He was leaning against the bed arms folded under him for a pillow, and looked utterly adorable. Shaking himself out of such thoughts, Thorin pulled himself upright, a small grunt of protest escaping him at the use of sore muscles. It was enough to wake Bofur, and when he saw Thorin awake, the blindingly bright smile that he sent his friend nearly took the kings breath away.

Things went back to normal after that, but many times Thorin couldn't help but regret not telling the toymaker of his feelings for him then.

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Now sitting in his rooms back in Erebor with his mountain reclaimed and his sworn enemy dead, there wasn't a fiber in his being that didn't wish he had confessed then or one of the many opportunities that the following years had provided.

Thorin was holding the Arkenstone in his palm staring into the multi colored depths of the wondrous gem, yet he could not help but wish for the sight to be replaced by warm brown eyes and up curling braids. Sighing heavily in his longing, Thorin was about to put the stone down when the soft, nearly not there whisper resounded through the room.

"What would you gibe for a second chance."

Thorin startled, looking about the room in alarm for the voice, but it started again before he could ask any questions.

"What would you do for him to be returned to you."

The words caused an equal amount of joy and wary thoughts inside the dwarven king, for how was he to know whom was speaking such hopeful words?

When the voice spoke a third time, Thorin noticed that the Arkenstone pulsed brightly with each word. Awestruck he cradled the stone in his hands, smiling sadly at his family's symbol of power.

"What would you sacrifice for your One to live again?"

Sinking down into his seat, Thorin clutched at the stone, hardly daring to hope for what the heart of the mountain offered him with that simple statement.

"Whatever I can that will not put my people in danger."

Thorin got the impression that he Arkenstone was pleased, and the stone warmed in his hands, the voice emanating from it infinitely gentle when it next spoke.

"Well said King Under the Mountain. You have suffered enough in your life and sacrificed much so that your people would have a good life. It is time for you to get something in return. All I ask for my help is that you keep my secret until I am needed again. Now. Take me to him."

Let it be known that kings do not run in their own kingdoms. Yet one moment Thorin Oakenshield son of Thrain and Thror and King Under the Mountain was sitting in his chair in his rooms and the next he was sprinting down the dimly lit hallways of stone with a fur hat clutched in one hand and the Arkenstone in the other.

Thorin rushed into the room where Bofur was held, finding his One's kin still sitting around the bed. At his sudden entrance they looked up at him, confusion showing on tear stained faces. He gave no explanation to his intentions, simply placed the Arkenstone on the still chest of his One and stepped back watching for any change. For a few long moments nothing happened and the kings shoulders began to slump in defeat. Then the Arkenstone gave a throb of light and he whispery voice sounded in Thorin's mind.

"Fear not, it simply took me a moment to locate him. He was placed in a rather exalted place there, but he is more than happy to return. I fare thee well King Under the Mountain, until we meet again."

With those words, the glow began to fade away and as it did the flush of life began to fill Bofur's face and his chest began to rise and fall once more.

The startled but joyful cries of Bifur and Bombur barely registered for Thorin, he simply pocketed the Arkenstone and leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to Bofur's forehead as the toymaker had done for him on the battle field.

Warm brown eyes fluttered open at the contact, and blearily blinked up at his king, recognition slowly bleeding into the orbs.

"Welcome back to the land of the living my friend."

Thorin's voice was soft and welcoming, his tone indicating that all that had transpired between them was not forgotten and was not to be tossed aside. The surprise on his One's face greatly amused the king, and as Bifur and Bombur got over their shock and crowded past him to get to their now living kin in a tearfully joyful reunion; Thorin found himself not minding at that moment. It gave him time to consider how it would be best to approach his One on the matter of their mutual feelings; he knew that he would have to reassure his toymaker that all was well. After all he wasn't just going to let his soon to be mate think that he didn't want him.

When Bifur and Bombur had scattered to find the rest of the company to tell them the news, Thorin decided to take the chance offered and handed his One his fluffy hat back.

Bofur's face began to fall at the return of the hat, but paused when he saw the good as new state it was in. Placing it on his head with an air of reluctant happiness, he ran his fingers along the brim as he always did, stopping when his fingers encountered something sewn cleverly into the fur lining. Slowly and incredulously he traced the dwarven ruin, etched into his hat, a wide smile breaking over his face. Bofur continued to trace the stitching even as he looked shyly up at his king, trying to decide if it meant what he was hoping it did.

"Do…ye mean it then? What yer saying with this an all."

The foreign but utterly delightedly smug smile on his kings face was enough to answer his question, but the gentle press of Thorin's forehead to his own sealed the thought.

"When you get the chance to escape your relieved kin, come to my chambers and ill show you how much I mean it Bofur."

The implications that his kings tone and words sent scurrying along Bofur's thoughts caused a shiver of anticipation to run through him, and the warm Loving look in the royals eyes very nearly made Bofur melt into his embrace right there.

"I think well finally have time for that long over due conversation."

When Thorin saw recognition in his One's eyes he leaned down and captured Bofur's lips in a fiercely passionate kiss, pouring his long years of bottled emotions into their embrace. When his One returned the kiss with equal fervor, a possessive warmth swept through the king and he had to fight the temptation to simply stealing his mate away for a few days and hiding in their rooms with the doors locked. He refrained from acting on the impulse however, because he fully intended to court Bofur properly and lavish him in gifts and attentions as he hadn't had the chance to do in years prior.

He relished the feeling of questing fingers digging into his silver streaked mane of hair, seeking an anchor and pressed himself closer to his One, a rough purr climbing out of his throat as the grip tightened.

For a few more long blissful moments the two of them remained locked in their embrace, but the loud pattering of 11 sets of feet on the stone floor forced them to part reluctantly. Thorin however didn't pull completely away, instead he pressed his forehead to Bofur's in a gentle act which he held even as the rest of the company rushed into the room. Silence reined for a few moments as his friends witnessed his affectionate display, then the spell was broken and they rushed forward to greet their living comrade.

Stepping aside for the time being, Thorin allowed a satisfied smile to light upon his face, enduring the knowing looks of the older set of his friends. The time for explanations would be later, for now it was time for celebration.

It ended up being nearly two days before both Bofur and Thorin could escape their duties to disappear and find each other. When Bofur arrived at his kings chambers, he was nervous as a young stripling on his first date. The acrobatic butterflies in his stomach were really putting on a show, and he really wasn't sure how he managed to knock on the heavy wooden door.

When Thorin opened the door to admit his One, the sight nearly took Bofur's breath away. Gone were the heavy robes and furs of a royals daily garb, absent were the weighty chains of gold and mithril and precious gems from his neck, not an ounce of fancy jewelry on his form. Instead Thorin wore simple garb, a soft loose cream tunic and darker sleeping pants were all that adorned his form, and his wild mane of dark hair spilled about his shoulders free but for the simple braids that bespoke of his status. In all he looked much the same as he had when they had lived in Eren Luid, though his expression was infinitely gentler and at peace than Bofur had ever seen it in his memory.

Thorin offered his hand to Bofur and when the toymaker shyly took it, the king tugged his soon to be mate into his chambers and kissed the back of his hand gently. Leading his slightly shocked love to a padded chair that was near the fire, Thorin sat his love into it and moved to a chair directly opposite his, where a magnificent golden harp sat waiting to be played. Settling so that his knees nearly touched his One's, Thorin picked up the harp and began to play a ballad of love, knowing that words were not quite what the other would need at that moment. Soon enough the music soothed Bofur enough so that he noticed a small intricately carved box sitting on a small table near his elbow. Picking it up the toymaker opened the little box, and there nestled in fine velvet, were two exquisitely smithed hair beads.

One clearly had the mark of a dwarven hero ruin etched into the surface, as well as signs stating his place in the nobility of Erebor. The other…was an elegant courting bead. Its base was iron and silver, and on each side two images made from pure mithril and embedded with emeralds and diamonds and lapis lazuli gems crossed over each other. One side was a perfect replica of Bofur's own fur hat, with the Arkenstone nestled safely on its fluffy brim, a chip of the actual stone itself representing its smaller replicate. On the other side was an Oakenshield, with small carved toys placed on its roughened form. Between the two carved sides a ruin to match the one etched into his real hat sat, the lettering glittering brightly from the many amethyst gems that bordered it.

The sign was the dwarven phrase "Most precious of Treasures, My One".

Looking up at Thorin with tears in his eyes, Bofur caught his kings blue eyes and held them, silently expressing all that he didn't have the power to verbalize because of his overwhelming happiness.

When the song ended, Thorin placed the harp aside and knelt before his mate, picking up the courting bead and cradling Bofur's palms in his own gently. Keeping eye contact with his love the king made sure to keep his full attention as he spoke.

" Bofur, I have waited too long to say this to you, so I shall not wait another moment. You are my One, my heart and soul and my other half. I know that I have not gone about this the right way as I should have many years ago when I first found out, but I can promise you now that from this point on I shall forever be devoted to you, and I will do everything in my power to keep your love. If you would have me, I would be honored to become your mate."

As soon as he was done speaking Bofur gave a quiet sob and flung himself onto his king, kissing him deeply and laughing quietly at the royal at the same time.

"ye don't have to ask Thorin, its always been ye and I don't care about the past, all I care about is the now and our future together. So yes you daft dwarf, id like to become your mate."

Thorin grinned and kissed his One back, pulling Bofur closer into his arms with a happy sigh. This was the way things are supposed to be. He had his mate in his arms and his mountain was safe. All was well in his world once more.

Fin.

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Authors note: Yay! Fluffiness for all! Hope you guys enjoyed this, please review!

ALSO! I am now taking prompts. If there is a pairing with a story line you would like to see me write pm me or put it in your review! See you guys soon.