Howdy Y'all! Carry on reading the story down below if you wish, but if you're still reading this note right here then I'll get a few things out. First, I am no writer, not at ALL. So forgive me if there are some issues within my writing. I am an artist, I have stored all of these ideas in my head over the months, all of which would be too complicated to draw, so I am attempting my first fanfic ever. I have been visiting this website for years and I absolutely love the creativity here, love it love it love it! This is more of an experimental piece, so any feedback at all, and/or suggestions for a continuation would be fine and dandy :)

*Oh and SPOILERS, if you have not read the novel or watched The Battle of The Five Armies, BEWARE.*

Disclaimer: If The Hobbit belonged to me, the ending scene would result in Thorin and Bilbo riding off in a wagon into the sunset with a 'Just Married' sign on the back, ehehehe.

~Chapter One: Constant Thoughts~

Rain poured from the sky, seeping into well-worn clothes as Bilbo Baggins carefully made his return to the Mountain. He paid no mind to the heavy droplets soaking his favorite auburn coat, nor light brown curls sticking onto his forehead and partially blocking his vision; he took his time on the journey to the small gates, for he was in no hurry.

The Hobbit's hands subconsciously sank deeper into his trouser pockets, looking for something to fiddle with as he thought. His legs carried him slowly yet his mind raced with multiple inner conflicts, all of which narrowed down to one King.

King. If that title could even properly suffice. All that Thorin Oakenshield has done of late would raise the questioning brows of not only citizens, but those of fellow comrades as well. His choice to isolate himself completely from the world, not feeling obligated for even the simplest of tasks concerning his people, has gained him an ever-growing uneasiness from all those around.

There is a valuable reason as to why Thorin acts so, though, Bilbo thought. The prior Battle that has nearly demolished these grounds themselves have left an everlasting wound on the King's heart. The battle that has claimed the lives of his beloved nephews. Though Thorin would no doubt deny, Bilbo has seen the absolute agony in which he suffers, and became one, the only in-fact, witness to the tears of grief that the Dwarf shed uncontrollably. By then, the Hobbit finally understood how much of an impact this has left upon Thorin's wavering emotions, so he does not question Thorin's motives as do others.

As Bilbo un-pocketed his hands and opened the gate, he stopped briefly once entering the back garden. He was close. Only a couple of more paces and he will be in the same room as the broken King, hopefully this time knowing what to do. He mentally steeled himself as he continued his slow trek, now his upper torso thoroughly drenched in fresh Summer rain. The trip to the woods had been rejuvenating, allowing him some (much needed) time alone to think, to think about how he will fix Thorin, and repair the costly damage done to his poor soul. As the medium stone doors became nearer and nearer, the Hobbit slowed his pace even more.

He was in no hurry, after all.