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The grand doors of the council room shut behind the Consort of Erebor with a thud so loud, the stone halls shook with it.
The meetings about drawing up a peace treaty with the elves of the Woodland Realm proved to be more difficult then Bilbo initially thought. Even with Kili and Balin supporting his plans on the council floor, Thorin and the older lords coming from Ered Luin didn’t wish to hear about it.
He tried every diplomatic tactic known to man, he listed every reason and even drew multiple maps. No matter if he presented kindly or with a serious look on his face, the old lords didn’t even acknowledge him. But, that wasn’t what hurt the most.
Thorin the second, King of Erebor, who also happened to be his husband he happily wed a few months ago, didn’t even raise a brow to support him or even to get the lords to listen.
When the last caravan from Ered Luin entered the mountain, and with it the last missing house’s, the first of many council meetings regarding the war and Erebor began.
The political dissension became apparent after the second meeting was adjourned, because a rather heavy fight broke out between Lord Barazûl and Dorin Gemeye, the representative of the miner’s guild. Bilbo, as he was being escorted out by Thorin, realized that the initial plan they drew up with the elves would be harder to pass than he would have guessed.
And how right he was.
He and Balin have been trying for two weeks to get the council to even discuss the details of the treaty, but to no avail. The old lords shouted over them in Khuzdul, so Bilbo had no other choice but to stop speaking.
As Bilbo marched down the halls, his fingers squeezed into knuckles by his side, he felt a tear slip down his cheek. It hurt, the way Thorin just let the lords march over him like he was nothing.
The protection and understanding they vowed to each other seemingly meant nothing when it meant facing his kin. Oh, Bilbo was mad.
The door to their shared wing flew open before him, as he stomped past the kitchen, towards the study.
He locked the door behind him, chucking the key away and fell down to his chair. His eyes swept across the table filled with maps and books detailing the long and eventful history between the elves and the dwarfs.
“Fucking stoneheads!” His hands flew to the desk and with a swift move he swept it clean. His ink tumbled, painting parchment and maps alike, marking them with streaks of black.
His hands flew towards his head next, simply ripping his headpiece off, chucking it between the papers.
Everything went still and for a minute or two Bilbo just sat, breathing heavily, hands shaking falling to his lap.
As his heart slowed down, he pulled his legs up, burying his forehead into his thighs. And as his skin kissed the light silk material of his pants, the dam broke inside of him.
He cried as if his eyes turned into mountain-springs and his body could never run out of water. His breath hitched and stuttered, uneven in the hollow space around him. In hopes of making himself disappear, Bilbo pressed his head further into his thighs, as if folding in on himself would make him cease to exist. But, the tears kept coming.
“If I haven’t given Gandalf that blasted ring” He murmured between breaths, talking to his legs. “Maybe they would listen… or at least” He gulped, trying to swallow the hurt back down. “I could disappear.” But oh he could never leave Erebor.
Bag End has been signed off to Primula and Drongo as soon as Thorin awoke from his coma. Bilbo knew right then, that even if the king wished nothing but friendship from him, he would never return to the Shire. The mountain and his dwarfs were his home now.
But, as two weeks have passed without a single remark from Thorin regarding the treaty or even him, something dark inside of his mind twisted.
What if the sickness was back again, and Thorin never truly fought it off.
The thought made him sob even louder into his pants.
“He is just tired, I am too…” He tried reassuring himself, but to no avail, his heart wouldn’t listen to reason now. “He would never hurt me, not again.” He continued to cry aloud, gripping his knees tighter.
Bilbo saw, every time Thorin looked at him with a distant look hiding behind his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe he was right there and what happened was behind them now.
It took multiple long talks of reassurance before the dwarf would even touch him, yet the horrors never truly left his eyes.
And Bilbo, without a second thought forgave him. He knew the dwarf dragging him to the ledge of the rampart was not Thorin.
The mithril chain he always wore under his shirts and robes pressed into his skin as he practically became one with his knees. His hands were numb, his head was throbbing from too much crying yet he couldn’t stand up. His back was glued to the chair, and the reminiscent thought of what he had to clean up didn’t make the idea of getting up more enticing.
His right hand let go of his knee and slipped towards the chainmail peeking out from under his shirt. He began twirling the carefully crafted chainlinks between his fingers as a light knock echoed around the study.
He groaned, not even lifting his head up. “Balin, I am up to no chat right now.” His voice was weak and raspy from crying. Twirling the beads around, he focused on the cold metal touching his skin.
“Bilbo…” Thorin’s voice echoed around, sounding so brittle.
“I especially do not wish to talk to you.” Bilbo answered, coughing.
“ Khîê, please.” Thorin pressed on, his voice sounding even more broken.
Oh, not with the baby-names, his weakness.
He groaned, trying to make his voice come back, as he got up from the chair, wobbling towards the door. Where is the key?
“I-uh…” He squeezed out, his eyes darting around for the key. Where could he have thrown it? “A minute. I cannot find the key…” But as he turned back looking for it, with a click, the latch opened.
Bilbo froze, eyes fixating on the mess around his table, with his headpiece sitting dainty on top of it.
Thorin slowly closed the door behind him, but remained in front of it as if he wasn’t allowed to step closer to Bilbo.
Bilbo looked back down at him, catching the rather large spot of water painting his clothes. He surely looked terrible. Hair messy, face puffy, eyes red from all the crying. Ugly.
Oh that thought started up another stream of tears falling down. But, he couldn’t afford to begin showing weakness now. His hands roughly swept the salt away.
“Can I-”
“What can I do for you, your Majesty?” Bilbo tried to sound as collected and withdrawn as possible. It kinda worked.
Thorin’s face drenched of all color, the dwarf believed to be carved out of mithril from how tough he was, began to shake. Visibly.
“I-I.. Can I co-me closer?” His voice was trembling as well. Bilbo only nodded, glancing to the chair he was folded up on a few minutes ago.
But Thorin didn’t care about sitting down. He stepped in front of Bilbo, tightening his hands around his back, pulling him into a hug.
Oh that blasted water. It broke free again, streaming down his face as he fell into his husband's chest, gripping his clothes.
They stood for a few minutes like this, Bilbo sobbing into the dwarf’s royal regalia, and Thorin lightly caressing the hobbits back.
“Come, let’s talk.” Thorin whispered. “We are long overdue for one.” He pulled Bilbo away from his chest, grabbing his wrist lightly leading him towards their bedroom.
“Go on, sit Ghivashel, let me bring you some water.” Bilbo only nodded, and as Thorin and his husky voice left the room, he climbed onto the bed facing the hearth and the two armchairs around it.
His mind was running. Maybe he took it too far? What if the sickness was really back, what if… what if?
But, his overthinking was quickly stopped by a mug shoved into his hands.
“Here you go.” Thorin said, standing next to the bed frame. Tilting his head to the side, he waited until Bilbo finished his tea and looked back up.
The hobbit shook his head and pointed towards the hearth. Thorin just nodded, turned his armchair around, settling into it.
“What’s the time?” Bilbo asked after a few minutes of pressuring silence, looking his dwarf in the eye. Thorin was still dressed in his usual royal garments, but his crown and accessories were nowhere to be seen. He looked as simple as ever.
“The council was adjourned as soon as you left… I came after you, but I-” Thorin took a deep breath, speaking calmly, eyeing Bilbo.
“Let me guess. One of the Lord’s stopped you..” Bilbo remarked with a snarky tone.
“No..” Thorin looked utterly defeated. “I just got inside as you locked the door to the study. I waited outside.”
Bilbo’s eyes shot wide.
“Why? You could have come right in..” He looked at the dwarf, in shock. “When did I give you the key?” He mumbled under his breath.
“Do not tell me Amrâl you wished me there.” He chuckled, but the smile quickly faded away from his face. “I just got scared when you fell silent and, you missed two of your meals and…” The dwarf rambled. Bilbo’s face eased out of the frozen, angry facade.
“I am alright, dear.” He smiled, but remained still on the cushion.
“I know you are angry at me and you have all the right to do so.” Thorin shook his head. “I think your idea is extremely well thought out and would serve our people greatly. I cannot stop thinking about the first day you presented it to the court, I have never felt so proud in my life. But-” He sighed.
“But it's the elves.” Bilbo remarked with sour taste filling his mouth. It’s not like he didn’t understand, and he also had all the right to resent Thranduil for randomly locking them up.
“No, they are the smaller issue here. The lords from Ered Luin, well. Most of them harbor progressive views and they understand and mostly agree with you and Balin’s point of view. However, do you remember Lord Barazûl?” Bilbo nodded.
“He splits the council apart. Before we arrive to the meetings, he is there fuelling the council against you and your plans. He has a big following amongst the older members, and they drink his hateful words right up. I have only just been informed about it this morning and…”
“However this doesn’t excuse the way I have been acting. I should have been the first one to jump up, not Kili or Balin. I should have defended you and showed my support of you and your capabilities. And I didn’t because I felt overwhelmed.” Thorin bowed his head, fingers twirling around their marriage braid. “I forgot how bad the council really was, I would rather face orks or ask Lobelia for your forks back again. My mind feels fuzzy, the world begins melting around me.”
Bilbo utilizing his ability to be quiet, climbed down from the bed. He knelt in front of his husband, pulling his hands away from his face. Thorin’s breath stuttered, but he was eager to finish.
“I am sorry, from the bottom of my heart. I vowed to protect and understand you, but I hid my problems from you pulling away and scarring you Abnâmul. I let you fear that gold tore me away from you once again.”
“ Gadra allâk; Mahal hefsu binhas. (Against stupidity, Mahal himself is helpless)” Bilbo chuckled, curving the letters with a terrible pronunciation. He pressed their foreheads together, interweaving their hands together. “I forgive you. However I will not excuse you for not telling me about this.” Bilbo whispered.
“Do you feel like this anywhere else?” The hobbit pulled back, just enough to be able to look his dwarf in the eyes.
Thorin swallowed, clearly working through something. “I first noticed at our reception, you were just chatting away with Dis and Bofur, and suddenly I heard every little noise in that grand hall.” he said, voice strained. “Every plate, every boot, every laugh and word. I heard everything all at once. I thought it was just the wine..”
Bilbo’s heart twisted. “You never said,” he murmured, reaching his thumb lightly over Thorin’s wrist.
“I didn’t know what it was, not really. Though I was weak or somewhere in the back of my mind the dragon was reborn.” Thorin confessed. “I am weak. A king who cannot bear the sound of his own court? What good am I?”
“Oh, love.” Bilbo whispered.
“I meant to speak. I sat there and meant to open my mouth. But then Barazûl started in, screaming, drumming his fists on the table, I couldn’t hear you anymore. My ears began to ring, and all I could hear was battle drums and roars. All I saw in front of my eyes was the rampart… ”
“Is that why you acted so distant lately?” Bilbo asked, softer now.
Thorin nodded. “I am ashamed of myself. Not being able to stand up to my One, when you are in the most dire need of my support. I am a disgrace, to you and to my kin. I let you and the court believe I see fault in your ideas, all because I am unable to funcion.”
Bilbo reached out and took Thorin’s face in both hands. “There is nothing to be ashamed of my flower. You have suffered greatly under the curse and nearly died. You are strong as mithril my One, but this is something you shouldn’t have to face alone. With this-” He moved his head, letting his marriage braid fall in front. “I vowed to understand you, and now I do. But, please, do not make me march down half of Erebor looking like this for you to talk to me again.” He chuckled, pressing a little kiss to Thorin’s nose.
Thorin blinked.
“Let me help you overcome this. Óin will surely be able to supply you with some calming ointments, I will make you some tea and lavender biscuits. When you feel it getting to you, tap your armrest three times and I will call a recess myself.” Bilbo’s voice grew firmer. Thorin just sat, beaming at his husband.
“I do not think less of you for things you cannot control” Bilbo pressed another small kiss to the dwarf’s cheek. “But, do not make me do this again Thorin Oakenshield. I was scared, fearing the worst, I even thought about disappearing again. I was angry because I was left alone in the crossfire.”
Thorin moved, standing up, gently pulling Bilbo with him. He wasted no time pulling his husband into another hug, resting his head atop of the hobbit’s curls
“I’ll still speak tomorrow,” Thorin declared. “I’ve drafted a new council address, while you were in the study. I am going to Balin first thing in the morning so he can move the agenda around, so that I can be the first to speak. If they wish to disregard you after this again, I won’t let the noise get to me. Just… Please sit next to me?”
“You wish to change the seating plan as well? I better be investing in an ear cover for you.” Bilbo chuckled, pressing happily against Thorin’s chest. “I will gladly. What should we do with Barazûl?” Thorin pulled back, eyes narrowing.
“I should have dragged Barazûl across the council floor the moment he raised his voice at you.”
Bilbo blinked. “That is a record turn from brooding to murder, even from you, husband. ” He slyly curved the word, letting it fall between them. But Thorin was dead-focused now. This made Bilbo chuckle even more.
“He sneered at you, in my court. Mocked you. Dared to speak over you.” Thorin’s voice was lower, making Bilbo melt a bit more into his chest. “Let him try again. I’ll see him beheaded by my own blade.”
“Bit dramatic,” Bilbo muttered, smiling.
“Not nearly enough. He forgets you are my Consort, my One. You are not some court pet to be dismissed.”
Bilbo tilted his head upwards, looking at Thorin. “Are you sure you’re not just jealous?”
“I am,” Thorin growled. His face was filled with determination. Oh here he is . “Jealous and furious with myself that I let it happen for so long. But I am done. Even with the noise pressing down on me, I will still have his head.”
Bilbo chuckled. “So, what should we do with him?”
“I’ll give him one chance,” Thorin replied, his voice still low and husky. “He mutters one more obscenity at you in Khuzdul or he dares to speak against your draft, he will have to answer to more than just council protocol. Even with this chance still present, what he has been doing will not be glossed over, now that I am aware of it.”
“There you are, welcome back my husband.” Bilbo’s smile deepend as he carefully worked his hands under Thorin’s shirt, just enough to slip his hand under. As soon as he touched the dwarf’s skin, Thorin’s demeanor changed in an instant.
“Bilboh…” Thorin’s breath hitched, his voice trembling already. His icy blue eyes glistened like gemstones under firelight.
“I think a proper apology is in order, dear.” He smirked, slowly dragging his hands down Thorin’s side.
Thorin once explained to Bilbo, that due to the One, anytime their skin touches, he feels as if small stars are beginning to form across his skin. This paired with the dwarf touch-starved state is a match made in Yavanna’s garden, that Bilbo regularly liked to take advantage of.
Thorin shuddered. The brush of Bilbo’s fingers seemed to do their job in unraveling him once again. His breath hitched again, caught between his teeth, and when he opened his mouth to respond, only a soft, broken sound came out.
His hands, which had so recently curled into fists with fury at Barazûl’s insults, now tangled around Bilbo’s waist. “A-apology?” He repeated, the word being the only thing he could comprehend.
Bilbo’s smirk deepened, as his hand moved further up, drawing small circles into Thorin's ribs. “Mmhm. And not the spoken kind, you've already done that part, my love. But, see it rather late now…” He enjoyed toying like this, sometimes a bit too much. But he was allowed to. Sweet, sweet revenge.
Thorin’s face began to flush up, responding extremely well to his husband's touches.
“You-” he rasped, eyes wide and stunned and aching all at once, “you cannot do this then say things like that.”
Bilbo leaned in, letting his lips graze the shell of Thorin’s ear. “I know, I have missed you too.” he whispered genuinely. “You’ve been punishing yourself, pulling away from me, letting your guilt eat at you. Although I wish to do more with you tonight, tomorrow we will have an important day and it’s already way past midnight.” He kissed the earlobe, pulling back slowly.
Thorin groaned, a soft, keening sound, and dropped his head against Bilbo’s shoulder, his body trembling. “Yes you are right. I-i just..” He mumbled, nestling further into Bilbo’s neck.
“I know dear, stars. You think I didn’t do it on purpose?” Bilbo smirked again, patting his husband’s head. “You did hurt me, so a bit of punishment is in order.”
Thorin’s breath hitched again, as he let go of Bilbo, slowly. “Anything Yasthûn. I truly deserve it.” A laugh rumbled from his chest as he stepped towards his drawers.
Bilbo’s smile softened, as he stepped after him, hugging him from behind. “You deserve everything this world has to offer. All the fresh spring water, all the golden sunshine and all the soft petaled flowers of Yavanna’s garden. You deserve all my love and patience.” He pressed a kiss to Thorin’s back.
Thorin turned around, with small, glistening tears running down his cheeks. “I love you, my precious treasure. I shall never fault you like this again, because you deserve all my heart, my mountain, my people and the stars of Durin has to offer.” He kissed Bilbo softly on the lips, sealing the deal.
“No more silence, from now on dear.”
“I promise. Now, husband, let me change, or I will not wake you in time tomorrow.” Thorin chuckled, kissing Bilbo one more time.
“I hope the council will approve of the scent of lavender biscuits.” Bilbo pulled away, venturing towards his own dresser. “Who knows, if Dwalin doesn’t kill anyone tomorrow, I might even let him have some.” He laughed, pulling his nightshirt over his head.
“Oh, with that said, he will behave like a perfect soldier.” Thorin changed quickly, then returned to Bilbo’s side, slipping beneath the covers with a soft sigh. Bilbo welcomed him immediately, arms wrapping around him.
They lay there, bodies pressed close, calm and whole again. Bilbo rested his cheek against Thorin’s chest, feeling the steady beat of a heart slowly mending. Thorin’s fingers found his own, curling around them with gentle reassurance.
“We will face them tomorrow, now sleep dear.” Bilbo murmured, already half asleep. His eyes were still slightly red from the crying earlier, but his cheeks were glowing healthy pinkish, a smile was plastered all over his face.
“I am sure you will show me how, Bunnel.” Thorin pressed a kiss between the hobbit’s hazel curls, and dozed off as well.
They slept until the first light of dawn, entwined like roots beneath the earth. Between them, a gentle peace settled, one they hadn’t known for weeks, cradling their weary souls in the soft embrace of love.