Thorin's POV

Mahal spare me the idiocy of hobbits. I wondered, would Gandalf be at all offended if I simply left him here? Or rather, if I had him sent back to his cozy little hole in the ground; after all, he'd likely be far too pleased if I allowed him to be left here. He'd get to keep his relationships with the elves, which would make him positively giddy, given that he loved them so well. I gritted my teeth and yanked his arm once in something that some might've called spite, but that I only saw as hurrying the painfully slow creature along.

Really, I thought, first he enthralled every last one of the flouncy, beardless, tree-fucking elves with that sugary demeanor, those thrice-damned honeyed eyes, and then he moved on to my nephew. My nephew, for Durin's sake, and no matter when Fili came to think that he was allowed to court anyone without my approval, he was sorely mistaken. He hadn't even done it right! Courting was more than silly gifts; that was a part of it, to be sure, but Fili was treating Bilbo as one might treat a mistress, unworthy to wed, only to bed.

And for all his talk of propriety, the hobbit was simply… accepting it, even enjoying it! Even if a relationship between them were in any way appropriate, for a crown prince to behave that way was simply unacceptable. I heard myself snarl, and Bilbo jolted. I realized suddenly that he'd been steadily complaining since I'd first grabbed him, a confusingly familiar, half-pleasant stream of, "I nevers," and, "of all the!"

"Shut up," I said, maybe growled, and I watched his mouth go tense and his eyes go hard. One would never imagine so small a creature looking so… angry, perhaps, although that isn't quite the best word. He'd have looked more natural then with his hands upon his hips, perhaps with a foot tapping. He really was looking well now that he'd been being fed regularly again for a time. I shook my head; as time passed, it became increasingly difficult to remain angry with the hobbit, to even see him as the burden I knew he was. I was determined now, however, to remain angry for long enough to inform him of all the wrongs he'd committed in our time in Rivendell, of which there were certainly many.

"Thorin! Thorin, if you do not stop dragging me about like a… like some angry child's plaything, I shall…," he seemed uncertain as to what he would do, and instead huffed rather rudely. I turned to him and raised an eyebrow, but he only glared up at me, a proud little thing no matter what I'd ever thought of him.

"I'll do as I will, Halfling. You and I need to have a discussion." He sighed, shaking his head at me.

"Will you at least inform me as to where, exactly, I'm being dragged, your highness?" he questioned, rolling his eyes and sounding far more sarcastic than he had a right to sound.

"Elrond's chambers, for a start." He gaped, appearing for a moment more honored than anything, as though audience with Elrond were the finest thing he'd ever been offered, until the annoyance resurfaced.

"Thorin, I'm hardly-," I cut him off with a hand and a shake of my head, and he glared even harder than before, somehow.

"I asked you to be silent. Elrond will not care about your state of dress, or your preparedness for such a meeting, or whatever other silly little trifle you were preparing to fret over." He looked for a moment as if he were going to simply stop where he stood, until he realized how foolish such an attempt would be.

"You know, Thorin, I will freely admit that you are, in fact, a king; what I will not say is that you are my king. Nothing gives you authority over me to do… to do this!" And nothing had given him authority to so thoroughly burrow himself beneath my skin. I thought of telling him so, until I decided that silence was the better choice and simply forced him to a pause before the door of Elrond's chambers. He took a deep breath and resisted the obvious urge to comment again as I opened the large, heavy door and escorted him inside.

I caught sight of a rare, exceptionally satisfying look of surprise on the elf lord's face, until he quickly replaced it with an urbane smile.

"Master Thorin, what a pleasant surprise. Have you been well here? I've seen very little of you." I nodded once, stiff, and the hobbit glanced impatiently at my hand encircling his arm. I didn't bother to heed his unspoken request. "And you, Master Bilbo? It has been some time since my people have had a hobbit in their midst. I'm sure your presence has brought much pleasure to my halls." Pleasure indeed. My arm jerked, an odd muscle twitch, and sent him stumbling closer to me.

"That is part of the reason for my visit today. I'm afraid I take some issue with a member of my company fraternizing with your elves." Elrond gave me a very slow, very deliberate look, and Bilbo gaped, looking fit to start shouting at me again very shortly. I wondered if, perhaps, one of Elrond's guards would hold him for me instead, before I decided that letting one of the damned elves get ahold of him would only be counterproductive.

"Ah," Elrond sighed, one overlong hand pressing against his forehead. "Oh. Oh, dear, you're quite serious, aren't you? Of course you are. Alright. Master Oakenshield, I'm very sorry if my people have… offended you by their interest in Bilbo, but as I said, it's very rare that a hobbit ever even thinks to leave the Shire, much less makes it all the way here. You must forgive them their fascination." Unacceptable. I would not allow one ofmy company, my hobbit, to-. I sighed; thoughts like that were coming more and more often by the day, and just like my failed attempts to be angry with him, they occurred despite my attempts to fight them. I tried desperately to remember that I cared only because I didn't want the damned hobbit to stay here, thrilled to his bones; I wanted him to go home.

"I care little for their 'interest' so long as it remains innocent and does not affect the remainder of my company. However, your elves have, for many days, been bothering my dwarves with their involvement." I nodded once, very faint. Balin, at least, would be proud of me for handling this politely. Elrond raised an eyebrow. Shock was apparent on his face again for a few moment, but just as before, he wiped it away quickly.

"Master Oakenshield, I'm afraid that I've been hearing of much the same, only in reverse. I've heard reports of rudeness, thievery, even some threats of violence or competition. I had not wanted to believe it, of course, but-," Bilbo stopped him with a strangled, annoyed yell. He turned towards me with a warrior's rage on his face that I could scarcely believe.

"That's what's been going on? You… you dwarves have been… fighting with them, and that is why you have all been acting so strangely! How dare you! Why, how dare any of you! Were we not here to rest, to enjoy ourselves? And I can't even be friendly without risking innocent elves! Whatever have I done to be cursed with you lot?" He threw his free arm into the air, face flushing, and I lifted my head, tensed my jaw, caught between amusement and anger.

"You made the choice to come with us, Halfling. You knew well enough our feelings towards this place." He sighed, shaking his head and still glaring up at me as if he weren't a good three or four inches shorter than I, and a great deal less skilled with a blade.

"I only wish you all would make up your minds. Do you care for me, do you want me here, or do you not? All I ask is an answer to that. I will not live in… in limbo, Thorin; either you all treat me as a friend, or cease in keeping me from having others. I am a hobbit, Thorin. I am used you being always with others, to having parties, to large families. You must understand that I will always seek that." He appeared to be relaxing somewhat, looking more… sad than anything. My chest ached faintly; he had been flailing a bit before. Had he actually managed to hit me? I opened my mouth, preparing to speak, until Elrond interrupted.

He stood and came over to us, kneeling before Bilbo to look directly into his face. Bilbo flushed again; I glared.

"You really do look so like your mother, Bilbo, my friend. She once told me that she prayed you would; she joked often that if you looked like your father, you would be too often mistaken for a dog. I told her many years ago, before even she met Bungo, that she was welcome always in our halls. Should you wish it, I offer the same honor to you." He smiled, taking Elrond's proffered hand in his own and accepting the light press of lips to either of his cheeks. He opened his mouth, preparing to speak, but I refused to stand for him agreeing to remain here, and I could see few other options for the conversation's end. I suppose I might've snarled, might've done something, said something foolish, but primarily I remember giving Bilbo a sharp, sudden tug to free him from Elrond's grasp, at which point I simply dragged him from Elrond's chambers and to my own.

He was talking again on the way, yelling, but for some reason, I couldn't seem to follow the words. My skull buzzed, my thoughts busy, and a bitter taste lingered on my tongue as I tugged open the door and pushed him inside, at last releasing his arm. He squawked, looking for all the world like an angry, fluffed up little bird. I bit the inside of my cheek; for some reason, the thought made me want to smile.

"And what is the meaning of this?" he asked, hands on his hips, lips turned down, and, as I'd suspected, he looked much more natural that way, when he was angry. I glowered nonetheless. He sighed. "Well?"

"You… I forbid you to stay here. If you do not wish to travel with us any longer, fine; I'd prefer not to travel with my nephew mooning and smitten anyway. You simply cannot remain here." He stared at me, as though I'd been speaking another tongue entirely, and I thought for a moment; had I accidentally slipped into Khudzul? I did that periodically, when I was… upset.

"Thorin, I'm afraid I don't understand. What do you mean your nephew mooning and smitten?" Did he not… oh, Mahal, but I was going to kill Kili, and possibly his brother with him. Neither of them had even told the hobbit he was being courted!

"You hadn't noticed? Fili has been courting you for days. I suppose watching you prance about with your dear elves spurred him on. Of course, he hasn't' been courting you in the way you ought to be courted; perhaps that's why you didn't see. I'll… chat with him, of course, should you be… receptive. And, again, if you are not, I care little where you go, only that you don't stay here." The elves would likely tear him in two if any tried to act on their "interest," and I'd certainly seen them looking often enough that I knew they would. Again, though, Balin would've been quite proud of me; I was angry, at the elves, at Fili, at Bilbo, and even at myself, a bit, but I kept my voice steady and pointedly didn't shout. I looked at Bilbo, watching an entire range of emotions flash across his face, until at last he… started laughing.

"Thorin," he finally managed, "Thorin, are you jealous?" Jealous? How dare he presume that! I was king under the mountain, whether I had the mountain or not; I did not get jealous, most especially not over foolish little hobbits, no matter how brave, how kind, how pretty.

"That's a foolish suggestion, Halfling." He smirked, stifling another laugh as he stepped closer to me.

"Alright. In any case, if you did happen to be jealous, I'd want you to know that you had no reason to be. Elves, and your nephew, are all fine company, to be sure, but I seem to have picked up a taste for a certain dwarven king, suborn and idiotic as he may be." I gaped, rather un-kingly, and he laughed again, hand settling on the curve of my elbow. "Have I offended his majesty?" he teased, and, very slowly, I shook my head.

"No. No, you haven't. Halfling-," he shook his head.

"Quit with the 'Halfling,' will you? Call me Bilbo. Whether you care for me or not, I consider you a friend."

"Bilbo, then. How long have you…," he shrugged, smiling crookedly, his eyes flashing with happiness.

"Some time, I'm afraid; I had thought you knew, really, and that was why you hated me so, but I suppose the both of us were wrong, hm? My interest in elves is… academic, I suppose you could say, as is their interest in me. I grew up hearing tales of them; of course I'm curious now that I'm finally here. As for Fili… well, I suspect he was simply trying to get a rise out of you, not court me. Now, Thorin, if you're not averse to it, and I don't think you are, I should like to kiss you now." My breath caught; the air in the room was thick. Were the elves burning incense nearby? Probably so; it seemed a bad habit of theirs.

Even still, I wondered for a moment; was I averse? I'd spent so long hating the hobbit. Or had I? I was unsure; from the moment I'd met him, I'd found him… exotic, I suppose is the best word. Pretty, interesting, intelligent. I'd wanted to dislike him, though; I hadn't chosen him, Gandalf had, and it was not Gandalf's quest. I hadn't thought he had any business selecting a member of my party. Dwalin says I'm thicker than the stone our people mine. Perhaps he's right.

Bilbo had proven himself many times over, and I'd been too… you know, the saying, "stubborn as a dwarf" does have some meaning. I sighed to myself; I was a fool. Would Bilbo forgive me for it, I wondered? I bent down and pulled him to me, kissing him lightly, and he sighed against my lips, stood on his toes to press more firmly against me.

My hands slid down almost of their own accord, and he half-giggled against my lips as I grabbed at him. I felt myself getting hard too quickly from a simple kiss, and was reminded suddenly of how long it had been since I'd felt another warm body against mine. Too long, I thought now, I should've realized this sooner, because I had been jealous, I had been stupid, and had I only known it I could've had this-.

Someone knocked on the door. Bilbo laughed again. I groaned, panting and probably flushed and looking not a damn thing like a king. The door opened, and on the other side stood, obviously, Fili and Kili. They were propped against each other laughing in seconds, howling with it, and Bilbo hid his own smile behind his hand.

"We wanted to make sure you weren't planning to hurt Bilbo," Kili said.

"But we see that that is exactly the opposite of what is happening. Good on you, uncle; I'm glad you finally pulled your head out of your ass long enough to notice," Fili finished, and Kili nodded.

"Indeed. You two have fun now! Try not to be too hard on him, Bilbo; you've seen he's a bit… well, thick."

"Yes, and don't be too loud either! I'd like to sleep tonight."

"Oh, the company will love to hear of this, don't you think! Let's go tell them, then they can be as loud as they desire!" Fili agreed, grinning, and the two of them slammed the door, gone just like that.

"Those little shits," I hissed, and Bilbo only laughed again. I was going to kill them, and Dis, at this point, would surely not be able to blame me for it. But, that could be tended to later. Right then, I had a certain hobbit at my side, arms around me, and that was not an opportunity to waste.