Inspired by another fic like this-I wanted one of my own!

Please point out if I did anything stupid.

One:

They'd just returned from almost being eaten by the trolls: shaken but no worse for the wear. The Company walked away from the grounds, up a grassy hill, Fili and Kili flanking Bilbo's sides.

For his part, Bilbo hadn't done too badly, stalling the trolls, and Fili and Kili set out to tell Bilbo so, in their own way.

"Skinned?" Kili said, "Best you had, Hobbit?"

Torn between being polite and telling the dwarf prince off, Bilbo remained silent.

"Nay, brother!" Fili said when it was clear that Bilbo wasn't going to talk, "I'd think that beheading us first would've been better, don't you?"

"Luckily," Bilbo broke in, "Neither of those things happened, thanks to Gandalf." The Hobbit gave a cursory nod ahead of them, where Gandalf strode.

"Oh," Kili drew out the word, "But you should've seen the way Uncle was afterwards. We can tell; he fell on his right shoulder, he's favouring it."

"Your point? I'm a Hobbit, not a healer! What should I care?"

"How mean of you, Bilbo!" Fili scolded, "Why, but we couldn't help but notice how you and Uncle don't..."

"Get along?" Bilbo scoffed, "You've got another thing coming to you if you think that you're the only ones that've noticed, let me tell you!"

Kili smiled at the Hobbit's obvious irritation, "But, Bilbo, the surest way to win a Dwarf's friendship is to offer to carry his belongings, especially when the other is hurt."

Bilbo stared between the two dwarf princes, head flicking between the two. "What are you...No, no, I'm not...no, not volunteering! Let go of me!"

Fili and Kili had enthusiastically begun to drag Bilbo towards Thorin, who didn't look up from his heated conversation with Dwalin. Bilbo continued his whispered hisses of protest until he was drawn close enough to the pair to get them to look up. Fili and Kili ducked away, leaving the red-cheeked, spluttering Hobbit in front of the solemn dwarves.

"What is it, Hobbit?" Thorin asked gruffly, giving the burglar a moment to try and gather himself.

Bilbo stood wordless, He wouldn't help Thorin; Thorin didn't like him.

"Would you like help carrying your things?"

The stunned silence that met his burst of Tookish courage, and Bilbo shrunk into himself at the rejection, "Nevermind. It's just that Fili and Kili noticed that your shoulder had been hurt and-"

Thorin thrust his pack into Bilbo's limp hands, and promptly turned back to Dwalin and began discussing the trolls again.

Two:

Bilbo had sworn off ever going through 'that' again, in fact, he actively tried to avoid the dwarf king. But the more he tried to avoid Thorin, the more Thorin sought him out, and Bilbo considered abandoning his efforts altogether.

It was just little, coincidental things. Like when Bilbo was making sure the other dwarves had gotten supper, and when he returned Thorin was holding a bowl for him. Or when he was trying to practice with his pilfered sword, and Thorin would adjust his hand for a better angle, rough fingers brushing against the Hobbit's soft wrist (Though Bilbo considered this to be for the rest of the Company's benefit as much as his, as they always looked wary when he was armed).

The other thing that really irritated Bilbo was all the staring. Everywhere he went, especially when he was talking to Bofur or Ori, he could feel icy blue eyes on him. It was intrusive, it was disconcerting and it was putting the (respectable) hobbit very much on edge.

This didn't slip Fili and Kili's notice either. "I can't believe Uncle let you carry his things! We were just-"

"Joking! And he let you like it was nothing!"

"Perhaps he was in more pain than he let on," Bilbo focused on the bit of wood he was whittling at with a penknife, for lack of anything else to do. He was making beads for the members of the company. Though they would not be made of precious gems and gold, they would be presents nonetheless, and hobbits were known for giving generous gifts to those they liked. Bilbo was just finishing the engravings on the last one. "You know how Thorin is."

"Uncle?" Kili scoffed, "He didn't hit the ground that hard!"

Ori had come over to them at this point, and inquired as to what Bilbo was doing.

Making a sound of satisfaction, Bilbo presented to handful of beads to the dwarves. "I know that you lot use metals and gems for beads, but since I have neither the metal nor the skill, I made you beads of wood. If you would do me the honor of keeping one in case one of your own is lost, I would appreciate it greatly."

Fili and Kili were already examining the delicate beads. "These are brilliant, Bilbo!" They exclaimed, for once not stumbling over his name.

"They're very well done," Ori said, choosing a dark brown bead, "Thanks, Bilbo."

"You should let Uncle Thorin pick next," Fili encouraged with a slight smirk, "He lost one of his beads with the last attack; surely he is wanting for one."

Flustered, Bilbo sighed, "If he has need of one, I shall." And, determined to not be intimidated by the king, he strode over to where Thorin resided alone, blowing smoke rings.

"Thorin."

Thorin didn't look at him. "What, Hobbit?"

Bilbo swallowed. "I made beads for the company, and though they're made of wood I was wondering if you needed one."

Thorin looked at Bilbo, piercing him with those eyes. "I do," the dwarf said, "May I see them?"

Bilbo set the lot down on the flat rock beside Thorin, the glossy pieces of wood shining in the light of the fire.

Thorin considered each bead carefully before finally picking one made of sturdy oak, rounded painstakingly by Bilbo, carved with intricate vines. "This one shall do."

Bilbo nodded, knowing not to expect thanks, gathering up the rest of the beads to give to the rest, missing the way Thorin's eyes darkened as he observed the nervous hobbit.

Three:

After giving Thorin the bead, things only seemed to get worse. Now it seemed that Thorin went out of his way to help the hobbit, insisting on helping him with his blade of choice, patiently assisting the poor burglar as he fumbled his way through, distinctly aware of Thorin's gaze on him, ready, in Bilbo's mind, to find fault. But to Bilbo's surprise, Thorin proved to be a patient teacher, and the hobbit slowly but surely improved upon his skills.

Thorin also made sure that he was beside the hobbit at mealtimes, his bedroll near Bilbo's at bedtime, and that the hobbit was beside him in the procession of dwarves.

Bilbo wasn't the only one who noticed, the keener members of the company gave him knowing looks, Fili and Kili teased him endlessly, and even shy Ori asked Bilbo if anything was going on.

"Are we meant to have another uncle, Bilbo?" Kili prodded when Thorin was out of sight. "You're awfully short to be related to us."

"Rest assured," Bilbo replied drily, his 'respectability' dwindling with the more time he spent with the rowdy dwarves, "I have no desire to be related to you, even less to be that to your Uncle, and that I am a perfectly respectable height for a hobbit."

"Even so," Fili said, "Uncle giving you lessons on how to use a sword, and him always being near you..."

The brothers broke into laughter at the scarlet in Bilbo's cheeks.

"Oh hush up, the both of you!" Bilbo snapped, "He's only trying to keep me from killing the other members of this company, and to make sure that another troll incident doesn't occur, is all!"

"We're so sure," they chorused, laughing again, "He sure is going though a lot of pains with you, and, you must admit, not all of them necessary."

That was about the time Bilbo walked away, muttering about 'stupid dwarves' to go and practice his skill with a sword on a nearby tree in the dusk of the fast approaching night.

Swinging at the tree, it isn't long before Bilbo hears footsteps behind him. Bilbo doesn't turn, already knowing who it is and feeling inexplicably annoyed with the dwarf.

"I know that I'm doing it wrong," Bilbo says before the king can speak.

"Oh no," he can hear Thorin's amusement, "You're doing a fine job of murdering the greenery."

He feels the blade pulled out of his hand as he pants, the tree in front of him butchered beyond repair. Feeling a little ashamed, the hobbit stares at his feet, knowing that his behavior is childish and not at all 'respectable'.

"Rough day?" Thorin chuckles, "Was it my nephews?"

Bilbo nods, "Yes."

"Well," Thorin says, "As you've already learned how to hit inanimate objects," He gestures to the tree, "I should teach you how to clean your blade."

Thorin and Bilbo sit down on the springy grass, and Thorin shows him how to inspect, clean, sharpen and polish his sword. This part Bilbo feels that he is especially adept to, looking at his shiny sword a little while later.

"May I clean your sword as well?" The question is spontaneous on Bilbo's part, and he feels competent enough to be able to help Thorin, as a small repayment for how Thorin has helped him.

The dwarf stares somewhat incredulously at Bilbo before nodding, fetching his own sword and handing it to Bilbo. "Thank you."

The words surprise the hobbit, and he looks up and smiles at Thorin before returning to his new task. "You're welcome."

FOUR:

It was an innocent day, just like any other, and they had stopped for a short break. Bilbo, sitting between Ori and Thorin, was puffing away at his pipe, and the other dwarves were similarly occupied, tired from their walk. Thorin glanced down at the hobbit every so often, which Bilbo studiously ignored.

Thorin was taking a sip from his flask when the hobbit's soft voice passed his conscious. "Sorry?" he frowned at the burglar.

Obviously thinking that he had said something wrong, Bilbo stuttered, "One of your braids has come loose, would you like me to braid it again?"

Thorin blinked at him. "Alright."

Ignoring Ori's incredulous look, Bilbo moved to sit cross-legged behind the dwarf, setting the black bead carefully on the ground beside him before setting about fixing the loose braid.

Bilbo marvelled at how soft the salt and pepper strands were, how they caught the light.

Thorin sat rock still, the small, deft hands in his hair, slowly carding through it before pulling it tightly into a braid, twisting it one last time and then clipping it with the bead.

"There," Bilbo sounded satisfied. "I for one can't tell the difference of mine from your other braids."

And Bilbo retook his seat between Thorin and Ori, leaving the scribe to wonder just what had happened.

Five:

Though their arrival at Rivendell had been unexpected, the elves managed very well, settling their guests to dinner, and leaving to prepare rooms for them.

The elf that came back to lead them to their rooms explained the situation-that a large number of elves were visiting, and that, he was very sorry, there were only seven rooms to go to the fourteen members of the Company.

The company quickly decided who would room with the other, leaving only Bilbo and Thorin out of the loop.

The elf, noticing this, said to Thorin, "You shall, of course, have the biggest room, but the room has only one bed. But it's quite big and shouldn't be a problem for you to share with one of your group."

Thorin inclined his head easily enough at the statement, "It is fine, I shall room with the hobbit."

The others looked shocked at this admission, and Bilbo choked on the water he was drinking. "I'm sure that's not-"

"What?" Thorin barked at the company, ignoring Bilbo's protests. "It is the obvious decision, you have already paired off. And besides, he's the smallest of all of you, and the bed is large. It's better than being on bedrolls, is it not?"

There were murmurs of assent, though Fili and Kili sported identical grins at their Uncle's defensiveness.

Without further ado, they were led to their rooms, Bilbo trailing several paces behind the taller dwarf, feeling stupidly nervous.

Thorin opened the door, and they stepped into a luxurious room, with armchairs, a fireplace, and a huge four poster bed that took up most of the room, covered in downy white sheets.

Neither said anything, and Thorin walked to the bathroom, presumably to take a shower, leaving Bilbo to sit on an armchair, brow furrowed as he pondered.

Thorin soon came out, and Bilbo walked past him into the washroom, filling the tub with warm water and lemon bath salts.

After a long bath, the Hobbit pulled on the silken bathrobe the elves had provided over his pants, combed his hair, and walked out of the room with a determined huff.

Which faded when he reached the main room and saw Thorin, already rolled over and asleep on the far side of the bed.

Bilbo's steps faltered as he approached the bed, and he turned on his heel abruptly, making for the armchair. He didn't really need to sleep in the bed; they would probably be leaving early anyways.

"Bilbo."

The burglar looks up to meet Thorin's eyes, apparently the king is not yet asleep.

"Why do you not sleep in the bed? There's room."

Bilbo opens his mouth to protest, and, upon finding no protest besides his irrational nervousness, stands up and pulls back the covers on the other side of the bed, lying down.

The bed feels like laying on a fluffy cumulus cloud, but, even a half an hour later, Bilbo can't sleep. He stares at the ceiling, unable to close his eyes.

"Stop thinking, it's annoying."

The hobbit looks incredulously at the king, whose back is turned away from him, before huffing and resuming his thinking, until, at long last, he falls into a fitful sleep.

And if he wakes up the next morning with Thorin's arm flung possessively tight around his bare torso, and spooning the hobbit, Bilbo would firmly say that it was no matter of yours just how well he ended up sleeping.

ONE:

Thorin awoke after the battle with the pale Orc, eyes searching for the hobbit when he regained coherensy.

He'd embraced the hobbit, and then lead him away from the other dwarves, who'd sported looks of joy and winking eyes for the confused Bilbo.

"Hobbit," Thorin said, leaving no room for small talk, "Do you know how dwarves court?"

"Well, n-no," Bilbo stuttered as they sat on the springy grass.

"First of all, we carry things for one another."

Bilbo remembered back to when he'd offered to carry Thorin's bedroll. And Thorin had accepted.

"Then we make one another things that are especial to our best crafts."

Bilbo made things out of wood exceptionally well. And had made the beads...

"We stay near to one another."

Thorin had stayed awfully close to Bilbo.

"We teach one another."

The swordsmanship.

"And we'll share beds, but thats usually not unless we've been accepted in our overatures."

Oh.

Bilbo looked up at Thorin, "Do-do you," he paused, "mean to say, me...I mean," He looked up at the dwarf, "I'm, I'm a hobbit, you see, are you sure that..."

His words were cut off when Thorin leaned forward and silenced him with a kiss.

And that's that! If you enjoyed/hated it, leave me something in the dooblydoo!