Breaking point - chapter 3.

He doesn't realise why, but he feels hot all of a sudden. Maybe it's because of their race difference?, he wonders. Thorin is well muscled, bulky even, where Bilbo is lean, too young yet to acquire a rounded belly most middle-aged hobbits are so proud of. The dwarf has also a trail of thick black hair on his torso, where Bilbo is mostly hairless.

Thankfully, Thorin has his eyes closed, his face relaxed, so he's oblivious to Bilbo's inner turmoil.

"I brought some fresh towels, Master Dwarf. Also, will you need a change of clothes? Most of my things will probably be too small for you, but I can try to find something fitting", Bilbo asks, silently thanking the Valar his voice doesn't betray him for once.

Thorin opens his eyes and answers: "Thank you, but that won't be necessary. I've got some spare underclothes in my bag, they're worn-out but clean. But, would you terribly mind if I attended dinner not in my full attire? I realise it's improper…".

Bilbo shakes his head. "Nothing's improper about that, seeing as most of your clothes will be in laundry anyway. I'll leave you now but feel free to join me in the dining room anytime you're ready".

Bilbo closes the door behind him and takes a deep, deep breath. He's somewhat proud of himself for keeping his cool but staying longer would be inviting trouble, therefore his swift departure.

He shakes himself out of his thoughts. He has a dinner to finish, after all.

Thorin sighs contentedly, soaking in the warm water. The feeling is truly exquisite, he could already feel his knotted muscles relaxing. Oh, how he's missed the hot baths! Before Erebor fell, he had enjoyed them a few times in a week, as the mountain had a few hot springs hidden underground.

Before Erebor fell… There were many things he had enjoyed till that fated day. Not only hot bathes, but also joyful feasts, endless riches, the presence of his loved ones... But those days were long gone and he has been struggling with his life ever since.

Realising it's probably the time for dinner, Thorin reluctantly leaves the tube, gazing at it longingly one last time. It probably will be quite some time before he gets another chance to enjoy a hot bath again.

He dries himself using the fluffiest towels he has seen, ever. Once again he marvels how different the dwarves and hobbits are. Even at the best of times, no dwarf would ever think of acquiring such frivolous thing; towels were only that - towels, not another thing to pamper oneself with.

Apparently the hobbit thought he would need some pampering. Preposterous. But there's no harm in acquiescing to his host wishes, is there? After all, seeing as they've already quarrelled, it seems only wise to try to remain in his host's good graces. And using that fluffy towel was no big sacrifice, either.

With said towel wrapped around his hips, Thorin returns to his bedroom to put some clothes on, even if it's only underwear and a shirt. Feeling inadequate and entirely self-conscious about his looks, he hesitates for a moment. Steeling himself against ridicule, he finally gathers his courage and goes to the dining room.

A bright smile send his way disarms him, again. He is defenceless against those smiles, he knows, but somehow he managed to forget for a moment about this peculiar weapon which his host seemed to wield so expertly.

So he smiles back unsurely, thinking all he can do now is to try to fight fire with fire. See how the halfling copes with that!

The moment Thorin sends a small smile his way, Bilbo melts inside, his legs turning to jelly. He gulps loudly - too loudly, surely Thorin heard that? - and thanks the Valar he is already sitting on a chair. After all, fainting like a lovestruck girl is bound to be too embarrassing for words.

The dinner passess without any accidents, even though the conversation is somewhat stilled and awkward. They exchange too many many pleases and thank-yous to count, and yet Bilbo feels strangely happy, so happy he wants this happiness to last.

"How long will you be staying here?", he blurts without thinking and almost hits himself, for Thorin's face that was neutral but relaxed before now seems to close down.

"I am sorry to hear I overstayed my welcome here, Master Baggins. I will not bother you any longer", the dwarf says, standing abruptly. His voice is as cold as his body is frigid, the tension in his shoulders obvious to anyone watching. It hurts Bilbo to see that he once again managed to hurt his guest without even meaning to.

He wants to say something to make things right, like forgive me I didn't mean to hurt you please don't leave me here all alone - - -

And in that exact moment he realises why he welcomed this strange dwarf into his home, why having someone in his smial means so much to him and lastly, why he feels such a happiness he hasn't got a chance to feel for such a long, long time. Finally, he finds the courage to admit to himself that he is lonely, he's been from the moment his parents departed from this world, leaving him to fend for himself when he was barely of age.

His face crumbles by the anguish he feels so he hides it in his palms.

"Master Baggins?", he hears Thorin still guarded, but now also uncertain voice and that helps him to recover.

He rubs his eyes tiredly.

"I'm sorry, it's been a long day and I don't feel all that well", he admits, trying to be sincere without admitting that he has the emotional well-being on mind, not the physical one. "I never meant to imply that you're unwelcome here. You may stay as long as you need or want, I'd like to know your plans, that's all".

Thorin seems to be unconvinced, but willing to let the matter lay for the meantime.

"I still need to repair your fence, Master Baggins", the dwarf says finally.

Bilbo nods, relieved that his guest will not disappear immediately. Maybe he will have enough time to sort his feelings out. He probably still looks tired, though, as Thorin asks worriedly:

"Will you be alright?".

Bilbo thinks for a moment, then answers with more surety than he feels: "I'm not, but I will be". Somehow. Someday.

Just not today.

It is almost too easy for Thorin to shut off at the first sign he is no longer welcome. He knows those signs all too well, after all. He can't help but feel betrayed, though. The first time in a long while he allowed himself to believe he found a true shelter, and it looks as though it is to be snatched away from him before he could even begin to enjoy it.

Oh, he knows that he and the hobbit didn't exchange any promises, so there is no reason for him to feel betrayed. But he does and he is angry at himself for it.

But even in his anger he realises that the hobbit looks so tired and broken that he can't help but feel the slightest bit of worry. What happened to make him look that way?

What possible hardships could this soft, pampered creature endure in his meaningless little life?