Disclaimer: The Hobbit, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J. R. R. Tolkien's estate, and Warner Brothers, New Line Cinema, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and WingNut Films.

Author's Note: Fill for a prompt on the hobbit-kink meme.

Place in This World

Everything seemingly had been going very well. It had been nearly a year since the Battle of Five Armies and Erebor was slowly returning to its former glory. Thorin and his sister-sons were completely healed from the live-threatening injuries they sustained during the battle. Forgiveness had been given and accepted between the burglar and his thirteen dwarves regarding their treatment of him over the Arkenstone, their group restored. Peace also was between dwarves, men, and elves now. The gold sickness had fled once and for all from the House of Durin. The dwarves were now home.

And their burglar appeared to have settled in nicely. More than once Fili and Kili privately gushed to their uncle about their excitement at how much Bilbo had expressed pleasure when they took him on tours around the mountain. "It does feel like home," the two overheard him whisper under his breath once. That was what planted the idea. Since the hobbit was part of their family, giving him his own set of permanent chambers was only practical. Bombur had been the one to suggest an actual hobbit hole for Bilbo; he would feel snug and cozy, be able to enjoy the sunshine and plant his own garden.

The dwarves became, perhaps, too caught up in everything to see far past their own relief and pleasure at how their home was coming along. Or possibly they had simply taken things unintentionally for granted, excited with the preparations of Bilbo's surprise, and envisioning the future they would have with the newest member of their family. Maybe not all bridges had been mended when dealing with the aftermath of the Arkenstone as they had thought.

In any event the dwarves had received a severe shock two weeks earlier when, over lunch (just them with their burglar, like old times), Bilbo had made a passing comment that with how well things were going in Erebor it was about time he seriously started planning to return to the Shire. The dwarves had offered their mix of absentminded nods, grunts, and affirming comments. It was not until a few minutes later (Bilbo had moved on to one of his stories about hobbit dishes) that the dwarves had one by one froze, and questioning and panicking looks were rapidly exchanged all around – their friend's earlier comment finally sinking in. What had Bilbo said? Return to the Shire. Leave Erebor. ...Leave them?

The rest of the meal passed in a blur for the dwarves, too dazed to question Bilbo. That evening, closeted in Thorin's study, the group became divided: some objected adamantly. He was their burglar! They wouldn't let him go! Others pointed out they ought to honor their friend's wishes. After their mistreatment of him before, it seemed they had failed him again by not realizing how homesick he was, did not desire to remain in the mountain.

After more arguments, questionings, discussions, and laments, today found Thorin's Company walking dejectedly to Bilbo's quarters. They were going to offer what assistance they could for his journey, while also subtly discovering if the fellow was open to the possibility of future visits (they to him, or he returning to Erebor).

Leading his companions, Thorin desperately hoped Bilbo would not object to the suggestion. He wasn't sure how the others would take it if the answer turned out to be no. The lads already looked like their puppy had been stolen. The Urs would be devastated. The older dwarves most likely would try to conceal their disappointment. To never see Bilbo Baggins again...

Noticing the door to the hobbit's room was slightly ajar the king looked over his shoulder and placed a finger to his mouth. With unusual quietness the dwarves gathered behind Thorin at the door.

"—the Shire if you like," Gandalf's clear voice reached the creatures standing out in the hall.

Thorin's fist, in the progress of coming down to rap on the door, froze. All the dwarves held their breath and pressed closer, straining to hear.

"Thranduil has agreed to provide us with an escort through Mirkwood."

"That is very generous of the king," Bilbo said in a distracted tone.

"I have seen to the provisions we'll need for the journey. We may head out whenever you are ready."

"Ah! I believe I'll be all set in two days."

"Two days ago you said that, Bilbo."

"Well, Gandalf, there is more to pack than I realized!"

"Hmm." The wizard eyed the hobbit's room. "The state of your packing seems to have progressed very little," he murmured.

"Nonsense!"

Gandalf lifted his eyebrows.

The smaller creature grumbled, "No need to look at me like that."

"Upon my word! I declare I have never seen such an unhappy hobbit who professed to being pleased at returning to the Shire!" Gandalf exclaimed.

Bilbo's laugh was short and brittle. "Not again…"

"You may have hidden your feelings from the others, but not me, my dear hobbit. You're reluctant to finish packing. You are not interested in our planning. Your cheerfulness around the dwarves has grown forced. You wish to spend more time with them, yet at the same time avoid them. You are unhappy."

The hobbit narrowed his eyes, huffing. "So you've said before a dozen times! Now, if you will pardon me, I shall finish packing." His voice shook, "We can head out tomorrow, if it pleases you—" He broke off when Gandalf knelt before him, placed a large hand on his shoulder.

"What is it you truly desire, Bilbo? Why such unhappiness?" the wizard asked, his voice gentle and soothing.

The hobbit stilled, staring up into his friend's concerned face. Ducking his head, his deep breaths filled the strained silence.

"Is it not natural to be unhappy when losing people one cares deeply about?" he inquired with a wet chuckle that broke his listeners' hearts.

"Your dwarves…"

Bilbo rubbed his hand over his eyes and shook his head. "Not mine. They never were my dwarves." The smile he gave the wizard was pathetic.

Gandalf tilted his head. "You will miss them terribly."

"Of course I will!" he burst out loudly, pulling away to pace around the room. "How can I not? When they are incredible? The family I've longed for since Mama's passing?

"Balin was like a mentor to me. Gloin fascinated me with stories about his family. Oin was so kind, taking care of me whenever I became ill. Bombur and I bonded over cooking. Bifur made sure I didn't get lost or left behind. Dwalin and Nori taught me how to use my weapon – though it didn't stop them from being overprotective." Bilbo's expression softened. His small smile was fond and sad. "Dori's fussing and worrying was endearing. With Kili and Fili I felt like I was their third member. Thorin made me feel safe from everything. Bofur turned out to be the most caring best friend I've ever had. And Ori clung to me like I was the most curious creature imaginable."

"My dear Bilbo."

The creature trembled and struggled to control his tears as rough, grey robs surrounded him in a comforting embrace. He buried his face in Gandalf's shoulder.

"Why leave then, if this is how you feel?"

"Have you ever heard of a hobbit dwelling in a mountain? Besides, I am sure I would overstay my welcome."

"Oi!"

The shout was the only warning Thorin had (up until then there had been only jostling, low breathing, and sounds which had suspicious similarities to stifled crying at his back). Followed instantly by a surge of movement, he found himself tumbling along with his companions through the doorway into Bilbo's room. He barely caught an upside-down glimpse of the gaping hobbit and bemused-looking wizard before he got an eyeful of Bombur's stomach.

"Your dwarves!"

"We're already your dwarves, Bilbo!"

"Yes, please take us!"

"Please!"

"Always yours!"

That was Kili, Ori, and Fili, high-pitched voices racing over each other; they sounded caught between ecstatic and anxiety.

After that it was pandemonium. Thorin finally got to his feet when Bombur rolled over and Dwalin helped him stand. The king discovered Bifur rocking Bilbo possessively in his arms, growling "Mine!" Nori and Oin were sobbing. Bofur was reassuring their burglar that he was the dwarf's best friend, too. Balin, apologizing if they had somehow given the impression they wished him to go away. Dori, declaring Bilbo was the dwarves' hobbit. Gloin protesting their large family must not break up. That caught Bilbo's attention.

"You consider me family?" he said, wide eyes filling with guarded hope, a smile tugging on the cornered of his mouth.

"Ye're an honorary dwarf!" Bombur burst out.

"We'll braid your hair so all knows you belong to us," Dwalin declared firmly. This was met with vigorous nods.

"No one will dare to take you from us then," Nori added.

Awe and joy slowly lighting up the hobbit's face, his tears long forgotten, he gazed questioningly at Thorin who had been silent through the whole thing.

The king folded his arms in front of his chest. "You really cannot expect us to do anything now other than make you stay after that spiel, Halfling," he decreed, his eyes twinkling.

The room broke out in renewed celebration. Observing the scene from his seat in a corner, Gandalf huffed in satisfaction. His work was done.

THE END