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Summary
“How dare you undermine me, you cannot just give it to the Lake men, I forbid it!” Bilbo did his best to look unbothered which just made Thorin angrier. “Am I not the King?” he snarls and Bilbo prays to Yavanna for strength at what he is about to do next.
“No you’re not.”
Even the air seemed to still at Bilbo’s words.
“What did you say?” Thorin asks lowly, eyes darker than they’ve ever been, expression twisted with malice though he has never looked at Bilbo that way before, certainly not recently. A part of Bilbo mourns silently for the potential those looks had held.
“You’re not the king,” Bilbo straightens his shoulders and reaches his hand down into the pocket where the proof is stored, pulling out the brilliant gem and holding it out for all to see. ”…I am.”