Thorin jumped up, just as Bilbo turned to leave the cave, knowing full well that he was to blame for the hobbit's desertion of the company, but enraged that Bilbo would give up on him so easily.

They had been getting along so well. After spending that night in the elven library, using Bilbo's soft curls as a pillow, Thorin knew that there was something special between him and the sassy little halfling. Their relationship grew during their time in Rivendell, but as soon as he announced that they were leaving the elves, Bilbo's face dropped.

Of course, sneered Thorin to himself, leave it to elves to ruin everything.

Blasted tree-huggers.

They aren't even majestic.

When the storm giants waged their thunder battle, and Bilbo clung to the ledge of the slippery, rain-drenched mountain for dear life, Thorin felt his heart jump to his throat. He jumped down to grab the Halfling without thinking, almost falling to his own death in the process.

And that terrified him.

Not the fear of falling, no. What terrified Thorin Oakenshield, rightful King Under the Mountain, was the fact that he had lost control. He acted without weighing the consequences, without considering the risks; and that was something he had never before done.

Thorin was a simple dwarf. He liked his pipeweed cheap, his mead strong, and his emotions bottled up, stored deep within the depths of his brooding mind. However, with Bilbo, Thorin found he had no control over his feelings.

And that just wouldn't do.

If he had been any other dwarf, in any other position, he would have embraced these new feelings; but he was not. He was a king without a kingdom, a ruler of dwarfs ripped from their homes and forced to start their lives anew, some who had lost not only their possessions, but their loved ones.

He needed to have his head on his shoulders.

And Bilbo, with those deep hazel eyes and curly, auburn hair, made that impossible.

And that was why he snapped at Bilbo. He was afraid.

And it made him feel very unmajestic.

Thorin took a step towards Bilbo as the hobbit stepped towards the opening of the cave, oblivious to the dwarf-king behind his back, who was just about to open his mouth to apologize, to ask the hobbit to stay. Majestic or not, Thorin wasn't sure he could go on if anything happened to Bilbo, and with the storm waging outside, he was not about to let the hobbit take such a risk just to get away from him.

Of course, before Bilbo could make it to the entrance, and before the words left Thorin's mouth, there was the sound of gears churning, and the floor disappeared beneath them.

It figures the first time Thorin tried to express himself, the floor would open up and swallow him.

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Goblins clamored around the company, appearing from every little crook and crevice in the dark lair, grabbing the dwarfs and forcing them to walk forward, their weapons and possessions torn from their hands by the greedy beasts.

Yet somehow, no one noticed Bilbo.

In fact, a couple of the goblins stepped right over him. Or on him.

Which he found very rude indeed.

As the last of the goblins pushed the dwarfs towards the goblin king, Bilbo was left all alone, watching after them.

And as happy as he was not to be in the shoes of the dwarfs, he was still a little offended by the snub.

He wasn't that short.

Really.

His offence was short lived, however, as one of the goblins did take notice of him, forcing him to draw his sword and fight the beast off. Of course, fighting to Bilbo meant holding his sword out straight in front of him and running for dear life.

He found himself wishing that Thorin had shown him how to use the sword, as he had promised to do back by the troll cave.

Just then, the goblin lurched towards Bilbo, forcing the hobbit over the side of the ledge. Bilbo hit a soft spot of fungus, luckily. The goblin was not as lucky, landing on a hard rock, effectively knocking himself out.

Then, out of the darkness came a creature, unlike anything Bilbo had ever seen before. Huge blue eyes were set deep in a pale, drawn face.

And if Bilbo had thought Thorin had a personality disorder, he was about to learn a big lesson.

/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\\/\ \/\\

"Why did you come back?" Thorin demanded, his eyes fierce and his glare steady, though his true emotions were fighting hard to come out.

"I know you doubt me. I know you always have. And I do think of Bag End. That's where I belong, that's home. And you don't have a home, it was taken from you. But I will help you get it back if I can," Bilbo said, meeting the dwarf king's gaze straight on.

If Thorin's lip quivered slightly, and his stone heart trembled, well, he paid no attention to it.

And before he could respond, he heard a warg howling a short distance away.

This was just not his day.