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At Your Service

Summary:

Gandalf realizes Bilbo has a problem that needs to be taken care of before they reach the mountain. Bilbo suddenly finds himself with all the dwarrows at his service once more, except the one he really wants...

Notes:

Hey, so I have a question for you all! What is your preferred Frodo pairing?

I just can't stand Frodo/Sam. I don't know what it is, I just can't get into it.

So aside from that one, who do you all prefer to read Frodo with?

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“Can you tell me more about dragons?”

 

Bofur blinked down at the Hobbit marching next to him, almost shocked at the question. They should have expected this, questions about the dragon, especially from the burglar. Bilbo’s honey eyes gazed back up at him brimming with curiosity, and Bofur couldn’t help but grin down into them.

 

“You mean aside from th’ incineration, claws, teeth an’ tail?” he asked in good humour. “Are ye sure ye can handle it, lad? I’d hate to have to carry you to Erebor.”

 

“Oh shut up,” Bilbo muttered without venom. He was used to Bofur’s teasing by now. “I just… would like to be better informed of what I am going up against.”

 

Ahead the dwarrows began to make camp, and Bofur dumped his pack eagerly. Bilbo set his aside at a more sedate pace. He and Bofur automatically began to collect stones from the area for the campfire, their usual task.

 

“Well, not much to say, really,” Bofur said with a shrug. “Dragons are vicious creatures. They fight fiercely and without mercy. They are naught but beasts.”

 

“Not entirely so.”

 

Balin set his pipe aside and fixed Bofur with a hard stare. Bilbo set his rocks down and scurried over to the elder dwarf.

 

“Ye see, laddie, dragons fight like beasts, this is true,” Balin explained as Bilbo sat beside him. “But they are far more intelligent than that. They can communicate in all languages known; they are wise, old and powerful. They will trick you with words if they can.”

 

“Oh…” Bilbo felt worse off for it. This wasn’t an animal he had to sneak past, this was something that could think and speak. “Oh dear…”

 

“It’s not tha’ bad, laddie,” Dwalin thumped on Bilbo’s other side with a feral grin. “There are heaps of stories and ballads of the dragons of old being defeated. The hero sweeps in to save the virgin princess and gets his own reward, at the same time ensuring she’ll never be dragon-napped again, if you get my drift, laddie…”

 

Ori, crouching across from Bilbo turned scarlet and began to giggle at this, earning him a wolfish grin from Dwalin. Dori swept in and grabbed Ori by the ear and dragged him off, glaring fiercely at Dwalin and muttering to himself all the while.

 

Bilbo blinked in shock as he realized the whole company was surrounding them. Bifur muttered something that had Gandalf snorting into his pipe, while Fíli made an obscene gesture in Kíli’s direction, earning him a smack over the head from Thorin who stood behind him.

 

“Wh-Why does she have to be a virgin?” Bilbo asked shakily. Dwalin cackled loudly until Balin glared at him.

 

“They can smell virgins a mile away, because virgins are pure,” Balin explained patiently. “And a great treasure. To give ones purity to another is the greatest gift, the greatest treasure. And dragon’s value treasure above all else.”

 

“Like dwarrows.” The comment came from someone behind Bilbo, but the Hobbit wasn’t listening. He stared down at his feet, deeply contemplative. Even after Thorin ordered them back to work he didn’t stir, remaining seated.

 

“Bilbo?”

 

Bilbo blinked up at Gandalf who was watching him with raised eyebrows. Bilbo gaped helplessly at Gandalf, trying to form words but nothing came out. Gandalf sighed before reaching down to grab Bilbo’s arm, hauling him to his feet and dragging him away from the Company.

 

“What is it?” Gandalf asked, eyes searching Bilbo’s face worriedly. Bilbo let out a great shuddering breath before racing forward, burying his face in Gandalf’s robes. Gandalf’s arms closed around him and the wizard chuckled.

 

“Oh Bilbo, I’m sorry,” he murmured. Bilbo leant back and peered up at him, eyes wide and panicked.

 

“Gandalf, what do I do?!” he whispered frantically. “I- I never… I never found… Oh dear!”

 

“I am sorry, dear friend,” Gandalf said with a sigh. “But they do speak truth. Dragons can catch the scent of a virgin from as far away as a mile.”

 

“What do I do, Gandalf?” Bilbo whispered. Gandalf knelt, gripping Bilbo’s shoulders and looking him in the eye.

 

“I think you know the answer to that, Bilbo Baggins,” he said softly and seriously. “Any dwarf from this company will assist you if you should so ask. This is a quest to regain their homeland; they will do whatever it takes.”

 

“You want me to ask one of them?” Bilbo whispered, horrified by the very idea. “I never could!”

 

“You could wait until you pass the elves,” Gandalf suggested. “I’m sure if one of those is more suited to your taste…”

 

“But they’re so big,” Bilbo said, turning scarlet. “They’d have to fold in half!”

 

“Then I suggest you talk to the company,” Gandalf said seriously. “None will think less of you.”

 

“I can’t…” Bilbo twisted his hands in his shirt. He gazed into Gandalf’s kind blue eyes, his own filled with pleading. “Help me?”

 

Gandalf chuckled before rising. He never could say no to a Hobbit. He wrapped an arm around Bilbo’s shoulders and led him back to the company.

 

The dwarrows were scattered in various positions around the fire, waiting for Bombur to finish cooking their meal. Gandalf strode forward, arm still holding Bilbo close. He thumped his staff firmly on the ground, gaining the attention of the company.

 

“Listen up, and I will hear no teasing or mockery,” Gandalf said sternly, eyes falling mainly on where Dwalin was playing cards with Fíli and Kíli. “Master Baggins has something you need to know.”

 

A few mutters passed between the dwarrows until Thorin cleared his throat loudly with a glare.

 

“Now, Hobbits are creatures of comfort,” Gandalf began as Bilbo buried his face into the long robes before him. “And this is a big step out of Bilbo’s comfort zone, more so than usual. But it is important for your quest. I want you to understand the sacrifice Bilbo is making for you all.

 

“Bilbo has informed me that he has yet to give away that which Hobbit’s treasure most,” Gandalf said, eyes still stern. “His innocence.”

 

The silence was so deafening that Bilbo almost risked peeking from Gandalf’s robes. Gandalf cleared his throat in the silence and Bilbo shuffled closer to him.

 

“Naturally, this causes a problem,” Gandalf continued. “So this must be… taken care of… before you reach the mountain.”

 

Soft murmurs broke out and Bilbo kept his eyes closed and face hidden. Gandalf rested a hand on his curls and peered down at him.

 

“This is, of course, at Bilbo’s choice,” Gandalf said with a smile to the Hobbit. He looked back at the dwarrows, eyes serious again. “If you wish, you may approach him and offer yourself. He will reject and accept whom he sees fit. It is entirely his choice if he wishes to wait until Laketown to find a human, or even Mirkwood to find an elf.”

 

Under any other circumstances the noise Thorin let out at that would have been highly amusing.

 

“And mark my words, if anyone even thinks of making a jest or mockery of this,” Gandalf said, slowly growing in height, the air darkening around him. “They will regret it until the end of their days, which shall come swifter than they would ever have thought.”

 

The dwarrows shivered at the darkness in Gandalf’s voice as the wizard shrunk back down to his normal height. He stepped aside, leaving Bilbo standing in view, hands still grasping the wizard’s robes.

 

Feeling the stares of thirteen dwarrows Bilbo squeaked, his face slowly turning red as he stared down at his feet. He remained standing that way until he heard footsteps. He peered up, seeing Glóin and Óin standing on either side of him. Glóin had a firm hand on his axe while Óin was hefting his spear.

 

“Gandalf, you leave in a few days, yes?” Glóin asked with a scowl. At Gandalf’s nod Glóin inclined his head to the wizard. “Then my brother and I would be honoured to watch over Master Baggins in your stead, to make sure no untoward advances or jokes are made. As we are both married we will both not be options to assist our burglar.”

 

Gandalf nodded with a soft smile, and Bilbo sighed in relief. Glóin led him to the fire, sitting protectively next to him. Food was handed out and soon the conversation had moved on, though Bilbo was aware that there were always at least one pair of eyes on him at all times.

 

As soon as he finished his meal he hurried to his pack, setting up his bedroll and hiding beneath the blankets. He heard murmurs break out as soon as he vanished, and he scrunched his eyes up closed, willing sleep to come quickly.

 

Bombur

 

Morning came without incident, but Bilbo still avoided everyone’s eyes resolutely. He sat by the dying fire awkwardly as breakfast was prepared. When a bowl of porridge was pushed into his hands Bilbo blinked up at Bombur, thanking him softly. To his great surprise, the large dwarf sat beside him.

 

“I like food, master burglar,” Bombur began without preamble. He had his own bowl of porridge sat upon his knee, but for once he wasn’t eating. “So if you would ask me, I would treat you like a decadent feast. I’m at your service.”

 

Bilbo gaped at the dwarf who turned and smiled at him, eyes crinkling much like Bofur’s did.

 

“Of course, none in the company will be offended if you choose another,” he said. “We just want to help you.”

 

Bilbo smiled back at the dwarf, patting his arm. “Thank you, Bombur. This means more to me than I can say.”

 

With a nod Bombur returned to his food. Bilbo followed suit, feeling more comfortable beside the dwarf, happy that at least one more dwarf wasn’t going to be awkward to sit with anymore.

 

Dori

 

Bilbo had to admit he was enjoying his time with the company, in between warg chases and troll meals that was. He loved to just sit and watch the dwarrows, in particular, the Brothers Ri.

 

So it was mildly amusing when Dori, chasing after Ori with a comb while scolding Nori for his latest indecent act over his shoulder spun past behind Bilbo, managing to pin Ori down and attack his hair viciously.

 

“-if I catch you again, Nori! Now, Bilbo, if you’d like my help with your problem please let me know in advance so that I can arrange to have these two watched, I’m at your service, oka- Nori! Nori, no!”

 

With that, the older dwarf vanished, chasing after his younger sibling and leaving poor Ori to remuss his hair.

 

Balin

 

Balin sighed, letting the smoke curl around his head. Bilbo blew a couple of smoke rings, chuckling as his light smoke mixed with Balin’s faintly blue dwarf blend in the air.

 

“Though you’ve got all the young ‘ens throwin’ themselves at your feet,” Balin murmured offhandedly. “I formally offer my services, master burglar, if they are required.”

 

Bilbo watched their smoke mingle softly, a smile on his face as his eyes slid shut.

 

“Thank you, Balin. Thank you a lot.”

 

Bifur

 

Gandalf was saying his final farewells as they reached the edge of Mirkwood forest. Before the wizard could finish however, Bifur leapt forward, arms waving as he shouted and pointed, namely at Bilbo. Terrified, Bilbo slid behind the nearest dwarf, which happened to be Thorin.

 

Gandalf responded to Bifur softly before turning to Bilbo with dancing eyes and a smile.

 

“Bilbo, Bifur would like to let you know that should you need his services all you need to do is ask,” the amusement was barely concealed from Gandalf’s voice. Bilbo turned scarlet and offered Bifur a nod and a muttered thank you before he returned to his hiding place behind Thorin.

 

Gandalf relayed Bilbo’s words to Bifur who nodded, satisfied, and with that the company began their march, Bilbo smiling shakily at Bifur and remaining stuck to Thorin’s side, still slightly intimidated by the crazed dwarf.

 

Still, as they sat by the fire later and Bifur offered Bilbo a small carving of a dragon, Bilbo couldn’t help but smile back at the unstable dwarf.

 

Kíli

 

Bilbo was whistling softly as he collected firewood for their camp that night, lost in his own thoughts as he poked around for dry wood. He was so preoccupied that he didn’t hear the other approaching until arms wrapped around his stomach and a head rested on his shoulder. Bilbo squeaked, dropping all the wood he had collected and twisting to stare at the dwarf holding him.

 

“So how ‘bout it, Mister Boggins?” Kíli asked with a sly grin. “I told you I was at your service, I’ll take good care of you.”

 

“Kíli, get off!” Bilbo hissed. This of course prompted the young dwarf to cling to him tighter.

 

“Come on, Bilbo,” Kíli said as he nuzzled Bilbo’s neck. “I’ll make it good, I promi- Ack!

 

Bilbo whirled around as the arms around him vanished, trying not to laugh as he watched Thorin drag Kíli away by the back of the neck, the set of his shoulders showing how angry the older dwarf was. Kíli seemed unconcerned, blowing Bilbo a kiss as he was pulled away.

 

Bilbo shook his head as he gathered up the wood again. Kíli was sweet to offer, but Bilbo knew that his heart was waiting on one particular offer, one that would never come, he was sure. He glanced back over his shoulder and watched as Thorin berated an unapologetic Kíli, probably annoyed at him for almost mingling the Durin line with a lowly Hobbit. Bilbo sighed as he headed back to the fire, his mood suddenly deeply saddened. Thorin would never offer himself, Bilbo knew that. But he also knew he would hold out until he was as close as he could risk it, waiting for that offer.

 

Nori

 

The forest was growing dark around them, despite being the middle of the day. Apparently the sickness that had infected the Greenwood – Mirkwood, now – was making their travel much more frustrating, especially to Thorin. The company was having trouble keeping a light heart, especially Bilbo who was used to sunlight. As they moved deeper into the forest Bilbo found himself getting more and more depressed.

 

“Mister Burglar, may I walk beside you?”

 

Bilbo blinked up at Nori and nodded distractedly. Nori fell into step beside him, whistling loudly and obnoxiously. Bilbo glanced up at him, slightly irritated, and got a wink and grin in return.

 

“So, Mister Baggins,” Nori said smoothly. “I’ve picked up a great many tricks in my life, ones most have never dreamt of trying. I’m a great teacher and am willing to take on a student. Count me at your service.”

 

All of this would have been quite kind of Nori if he hadn’t been leering at Bilbo and raising his eyebrows suggestively at every second word. Bilbo still couldn’t help but feel amusement though, and had to admit that Nori was great for cheering people up, almost as good as Bofur.

 

Before Bilbo could respond, Dori appeared out of nowhere, barrelling into Nori and grabbing him by his coat.

 

“Please excuse my brother,” he muttered as he dragged Nori off. Nori winked at Bilbo and mouthed ‘later’ to him. Bilbo chuckled and looked away, eyes falling on the dwarf ahead to his left.

 

Thorin was frowning in his direction, killing any amusement Bilbo had in him. Bilbo averted his eyes quickly, staring back down at his feet. He could still feel Thorin watching him, and his stomach flipped unpleasantly.

 

Bofur

 

Bilbo collapsed into his bedroll as soon as dinner was done that night. He just wanted to sink into sleep as soon as he could, but before he could try he was interrupted by a dwarf settling cross-legged beside him.

 

Bofur was humming softly as he gazed around at the dark trees. Bilbo blinked sleepily up at him with a smile.

 

“Can I help you?” Bilbo asked as he shuffled. Bofur smiled at him, his eyes crinkling.

 

“I think I can help you, actually,” Bofur said, eyes dancing. “If you’d like. I’d be good to you, Mister Baggins, if you’d have me. Be an interestin’ experience, laying with one who ain’t as hard as us dwarrows. I be at your service, if you’d fancy it.”

 

Bilbo turned scarlet at the sheer forwardness of the dwarf. He pulled his blanket up to his chin, eyes staring up at the other.

 

“I-I thank you,” he mumbled. “I’ll um… keep that in mind…”

 

With that, Bilbo hid underneath his blankets, hearing Bofur chuckle above him. The sound was interrupted shortly after by their King’s loud, angry voice.

 

“Bofur! You’ll take first watch.”

 

Ori

 

Bilbo shivered as he squinted in the darkness around them. The forest had closed in on them completely, stealing away any sunlight. They used torches to light the way, as the meagre sunlight that managed to filter through the leaves was barely enough to see by.

 

“Mister Bilbo?”

 

Bilbo turned to find Ori walking beside him, smiling sweetly up at him. Bilbo couldn’t help but return the smile – Ori’s sweetness was infectious.

 

“I made this for you, Mister Bilbo,” Ori said, handing over a soft golden scarf. Bilbo blinked in surprise at the gift before smiling back at the dwarf, wrapping the scarf straight around his neck.

 

“Thank you, Ori,” he said. Ori turned pink at the praise before muttering something Bilbo didn’t quite catch. “What was that?”

 

“It’s not all I’m offering,” Ori repeated shyly. “If you’d like, I can be at your service, um… I can…”

 

“Thank you, Ori,” Bilbo interrupted his mutterings. “That’s very kind of you.”

 

“I’ve been practising,” Ori said proudly. “With Master Dwalin.”

 

Bilbo almost choked on air, staring down at sweet Ori in shock. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed Dwalin watching them both, eyes dark with an unknown emotion.

 

“Th-That’s very nice, Ori,” Bilbo didn’t quite know what to say. “Um, thank you.”

 

“I think he’s got it wrong though,” Ori muttered mostly to himself. “How can I please you if all he shows me is how he can please me?”

 

When Dori swept past with Nori, grabbing the back of Ori’s tunic absentmindedly with one hand Bilbo had never been more grateful. His respect for the youngest of their company rose though. Ori must be a genius to keep his relationship – whatever it may be – with Dwalin a secret from his overbearing brother.

 

Dwalin

 

It was barely an hour after Ori had spoken to him that Bilbo found Dwalin walking beside him. The tall dwarf simply stared at him for a long moment before he sighed heavily, running a hand over his tattooed crown.

 

“I know it’s not my place, burglar,” Dwalin muttered. “But… I would ask… I would ask that you not lay with Ori. I will offer myself in his place, offer my services.”

 

Bilbo couldn’t help but stare in amazement at this big burly warrior who was arguably the strongest member of their company, all but begging Bilbo not to sleep with his partner.

 

“Mister Dwalin,” Bilbo grinned at the man. “Does Ori know how you feel?”

 

“Ori knows what Ori needs to know,” Dwalin snapped. He met Bilbo’s eyes, the question burning in them demanding an answer. “So, what say you?”

 

“I will not sleep with Ori since it upsets you so,” Bilbo chanted in a sing-song voice, much to Dwalin’s annoyance. Taking pity on the dwarf Bilbo shook his head. “I wasn’t planning on it, Mister Dwalin. In truth, I know not whom I plan on choosing. Only that this decision can’t be rushed.”

 

“Good,” Dwalin nodded down at him before he excused himself, hurrying ahead to walk next to the scholar.

 

Bilbo smiled at the sight they made, the tall dwarf stooping to hear what the young one had to say, obviously hanging on every word. Bilbo glanced over his shoulder and blushed heavily as he saw Thorin watching him, eyes dark and contemplative.

 

Bilbo turned back to watching the couple ahead of him, a wistful feeling rising up inside him.

 

That’s what he wanted from his relationship. That’s what he dreamed about, not losing his innocence in the woods to a dwarf who had no emotional attachment to him.

 

It was with a heavier heart that Bilbo continued his trek.

 

Fíli

 

When Fíli sat beside Bilbo at the fire, gazing into the flames along with the Hobbit, Bilbo almost sighed audibly. He had spent the day dodging Nori’s sleazy comments, Kíli’s wandering hands (which were temporarily stilled by a slap to the head from his uncle) and Bofur’s forward and almost disturbing questions. So when the elder brother settled beside him Bilbo almost told him to leave off, as he was too tired to handle another proposition.

 

Fíli simply took out a dagger and began to sharpen it, his Wheatstone racing along the blade easily. Bilbo watched the soothing movements for a moment before looking up at the golden dwarf. Fíli grinned back at him, raising a single eyebrow.

 

“I would offer you my services, Master Boggins, but I know it’s useless,” he said with a laugh. “Your heart is already decided, and even though he cannot see that, the rest of us can.”

 

“I-I don’t understand,” Bilbo whispered. “What…?”

 

“He’ll never make the first move,” Fíli advised him as he slid the dagger away. “That’s on you. Kíli’s trying to push him into it, but I fear all he’s doing is making you uncomfortable.”

 

Bilbo couldn’t quite say anything, staring at the flames before him. If Fíli was saying what he thought then all Bilbo had to do was work up the courage to talk to the dwarf who had been on his mind since he left his Hobbit hole and raced into the world.

 

And the thought of doing that terrified him.

 

Thorin

 

Bilbo fretted for a full day, wringing his hands and muttering to himself. They were drawing deeper into Mirkwood, closer to the Lonely Mountain, and Bilbo knew the dwarrows were expecting an answer soon.

 

As Bilbo walked he thought deeply on the issue. On one hand, any of the dwarrows were willing to give him what he needed – a quick tumble that would relieve him of his problem.

 

But would any of them give him what he wanted? And what did he want?

 

Well, he knew that, partially. He wanted what Dwalin and Ori had. He wanted companionship, someone who didn’t want to share him. He wanted what Glóin and óin had with their wives, pure devotion, despite the distance between them. He wanted what his parents had shared – love, friendship and happiness all rolled into one. He wanted someone who would take care of his body, who would clean him up after, and who would hold him in the afterglow and for many nights afterwards.

 

But most of all, he wanted him. He wanted those strong arms, those smouldering eyes, those rough hands. He wanted to see his lips curl from their customary frown into a smile, just for him. He was more than halfway in love with him, and he couldn’t stop himself.

 

Bilbo wanted Thorin.

 

And he could only hope Fíli was right, and that Thorin wanted him too.

 

It was with this in mind that Bilbo approached Thorin the next night as the king gave Deathless and Orcist a going-over. They had stopped early, as Fíli and Kíli had found several worrying signs up ahead – strange animals that they couldn’t recognize the tracks of.

 

Bilbo twisted his hands in his shirt, eyes staring down at his feet. He could feel Thorin watching him, but he didn’t lift his eyes.

 

“Um, Master Oakenshield,” Bilbo murmured. “I, uh, know all your dwarrows have offered me their service, just like back at Bag End, but um, just like back at Bag End, you are the only one who hasn’t, and I, uh, well that is to say, I was hoping, well not hoping, but thinking that-”

 

Strong hands seized Bilbo’s where they were twisted in his shirt, releasing the material from the hobbit’s tight grasp. Thorin held both hands in one of his own, his other lifting to grasp Bilbo’s chin and tilt his head up as the King stood. Thorin’s blue eyes gazed into Bilbo’s honey ones, silencing the Hobbit mid-ramble.

 

“Thorin Oakenshield,” Thorin murmured softly. “At your service.”

 

And with that Bilbo melted, a smile lighting up his face as his breath was literally stolen away by the King’s simple words. Thorin’s hand slid along Bilbo’s jaw to cup his face completely, and he rubbed a thumb beneath Bilbo’s eye, across his cheekbone.

 

“If you would have me, Master Baggins,” Thorin murmured as he bent in closer. “I would show you the pleasures that can be found in this world.”

 

Bilbo opened his mouth to respond and found a thick finger covering his lips. Thorin raised an eyebrow at him, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk.

 

“I wasn’t done yet,” he murmured. “I would not only shower your body with pleasure, but I would walk beside you doing the day, protect you in battle, hold you at night, and when we reach Erebor and take back what is mine I would shower you in precious gems and treasures, though none would match the worth you hold to me.”

 

Bilbo meant to respond, he really did, but all that slipped from his lips was a desperate moan, his body aflame with desire at Thorin’s words. He clamped a hand over his mouth, embarrassed by the noise. Before he could apologize Thorin swept in, eyes dark with desire and want. He used the hand on Bilbo’s chin to pull him closer, his other hand moving up to tug the hand covering Bilbo’s mouth away. He swooped in before Bilbo could do anything more, pressing his lips to the hobbit’s.

 

Bilbo fell into Thorin’s arms as the dwarf swept his arms down to pull Bilbo against his body, tugging the hobbit as close as possible. His hands roamed Bilbo’s back, running up the back of his shirt and racing over the skin there. Bilbo felt dizzy at the heat racing over him, and he absentmindedly felt his knees give out.

 

Thorin gathered him close, his tongue slipping along the seam of Bilbo’s lips. Bilbo parted them automatically, allowing Thorin’s tongue to slip in. Bilbo whimpered softly, and heard an answering groan from Thorin.

 

Loud cat-calls sounded behind them, along with a high wolf-whistle. Bilbo sprung away from Thorin guiltily, but the dwarf kept his arms wrapped around the hobbit tight. Bilbo buried his face in Thorin’s furs, embarrassed that he had forgotten the whole company was behind them.

 

“Back to your business,” Thorin snapped. “That includes you, Kíli!”

 

Thorin drew Bilbo close, sitting down and tugging the hobbit into his lap. Bilbo stared up at Thorin in wonder, which earned him a chuckle from the dwarf.

 

Bilbo couldn’t believe the turn of events. Fíli had been right. Thorin had needed to know that Bilbo was interested before he made a move. But now it seemed like he had unleashed something he wasn’t quite sure he could handle. Thorin was staring at him with a hungry look in his eyes, his hands never stayed in one place too long, and his lips alternated between whispering softly in Bilbo’s ear and nipping at the hobbit’s throat.  Bilbo was keenly aware of the company nearby, but Thorin didn’t seem to care.

 

“Thorin,” Bilbo mumbled as the dwarf king’s hands slid along his thighs. “Thorin, they’re watching.”

 

“Let them watch,” Thorin mumbled disinterestedly, much more interested in nibbling on Bilbo’s neck. Bilbo grabbed a handful of dark hair, tugging softly. Thorin glared up at him. “What?”

 

“You don’t mind them watching?” Bilbo asked with a raised eyebrow. “So you want to share me?”

 

Thorin’s eyes lit with a dark fire at that. He turned Bilbo’s head towards him and claimed his lips deeply, possessively. Bilbo bit Thorin’s lip softly, and he pulled back to look at the king.

 

“You are mine, burglar,” Thorin whispered into a pointed ear before he nipped it. “No other shall ever touch you. I will kill whoever tries.”

 

“So dramatic,” Bilbo laughed as he slid off Thorin’s lap. Thorin reached for him again but Bilbo danced out of his grip, shaking his head. “I’d like to sleep tonight, Master Oakenshield. I’ll see you on the morrow.”

 

Bilbo danced off to his bedroll, ignoring the eyes boring into his back. He took a deep calming breath as he slid off his waistcoat, pulled loose his belt and slid into the bedroll. He settled down under the thin blanket, sighing softly.

 

Thorin had given him a lot to think about. The dwarf had accepted his request, had promised him everything Bilbo wanted and more. Bilbo rolled over onto his back, gazing up at the stars. Erebor drew closer, the dragon drew closer, and soon Thorin would need to take Bilbo aside to deal with his… innocence.

 

Bilbo didn’t want to admit it, but he was nervous. He was sure Thorin would take care of him, but still, he was worried. He had never imagined his first time would be with a dwarf, in the woods, most likely hushed and hurried so as not to wake the rest of their company.

 

Bilbo couldn’t help but long for a real bed, long for time, time for Thorin to run his hands all over Bilbo’s body, to worship him.

 

But alas, time was no on their side. It was the thing they had the least of.

 

These thoughts kept Bilbo awake, tossing and turning, until Thorin settled his bedroll beside Bilbo’s, drawing the hobbit into his arms and cradling him close. Pulled up against Thorin’s chest, feeling that heartbeat and warmth, Bilbo swiftly drifted off.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Bilbo had been right. He had unleashed something in Thorin he wasn’t sure he could handle.

 

It was as though a dam had been broken. Bilbo expected Thorin to be very reserved in front of others, but instead the dwarf king couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Bilbo was constantly, grabbed, pinched, squeezed and caressed. Thorin strode proudly beside him, arm sometimes wrapped around Bilbo’s shoulders. When the Company paused Thorin would push Bilbo against the nearest surface and devour him, leaving his lips red and swollen and his face flushed.

 

The others teased Bilbo, of course, but would stop the second Thorin turned his glare upon them. Thorin sat next to Bilbo at every meal and would ask the hobbit to braid his hair afterwards.

 

In return Bilbo would braid tiny flowers down the length of Thorin’s hair and feel awfully smug while the king ignored the teasing of his company. Thorin would never remove them, thinking that it would be an insult to Bilbo if he did, which gave Bilbo a sense of satisfaction as he watched the great dwarf king defend his pride.

 

“Uncle! Uncle, up here!”

 

The shout drew Bilbo out of his musings and he almost walked straight into Thorin’s back as the king stopped, looking overhead. Fíli was seated on a branch overhead, waving madly to them.

 

“Fíli, I told you to find a place to make camp,” Thorin snapped as he stopped below Fíli’s tree. “Not climb trees.”

 

“But we have, Uncle,” Fíli laughed, leaning back slightly and pointing up. Bilbo shifted his gaze higher and blinked in shock at what he saw.

 

Kíli was leaning from the door of a small hut, set high up in the tree. He was waving cheekily at them.

 

“What is this?” Thorin asked, staring around above their heads. There were four huts in total, joined by bridges.

 

“Abandoned elvish outposts,” Kíli shouted down. “Beds and blankets! We can rest here for the night! There’s even an old stove, but it needs wood.”

 

“And how do we get up?” Dori asked irritably. “We’re not all spry youn’ens like you!”

 

In response Kíli threw down a rope ladder, his wink visible even from the height. Thorin turned to the company with a nod.


“This will do,” he stated. “Bofur, take Bifur and Nori and collect wood. Bombur, start the meal as soon as you get up there. Balin, organize the beds.”

 

With that he turned to Bilbo and gestured to the ladder. Bilbo blinked at him for a moment before he realized what Thorin wanted. He shot forward and began to scramble up the ladder, ignoring the hand that grabbed his rear to ‘help’ push him up.

 

Halfway up Bilbo realized that Thorin must have sent him up first for the view, if the cat calls and whistles were anything to go by.

 

Kíli pulled him up into the hut and the hobbit stared around in wonder. It was simple, an outpost for guards he assumed. The main hut was the one with the stoves, the beds were attached the wall and in sets of three high, the lowest being on the ground.

 

They dwarrows split up and began to investigate as soon as they made it up. Bilbo found himself herded to Bombur’s side where he set about helping him prepare dinner.

 

“Bilbo, this way,” Thorin suddenly appeared at the entrance to the hut, eyes alight. Bilbo immediately distrusted the look in his eyes.

 

Offering Bombur an apologetic look he followed Thorin out of the hut and across the bridge outside to another little hut, this one the smallest of them all.

 

It was clearly made for the commanding officer of the company that would stop here. There was an old desk in the corner, a washstand with a cracked mirror against the wall and a single bed, enough to comfortable hold an elf or two dwarrows.

 

Or, a dwarf and a hobbit.

 

Bilbo swallowed nervously and looked up at Thorin who was gazing back down at him hungrily, eyes alight. Bilbo opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to think of reasons as to why this was not a good idea. His mind drew blank.

 

Huh,’ Bilbo thought, tilting his head to the side. ‘Guess this is a good idea then.

 

With that he grabbed a hold of Thorin’s cloak and pulled, startling the king as it caused him to stumble forward. Bilbo sealed his lips over Thorin’s with a sigh as he felt large arms wrap around him. Thorin’s hands moved over his body, slipping under his shirt and racing across the skin, stroking the flesh in little teasing movements.

 

Bilbo whimpered into Thorin’s mouth, allowing himself to enjoy the attentions to their fullest. He didn’t have to worry about being watched, about the catcalls of the company disrupting them, about who might be watching. All he had to do was focus on Thorin’s hands, his lips, and oh Valar, his tongue.

 

Hands slid down to his rear and Bilbo squeaked as he found himself being lifted. He clumsily wrapped his legs around Thorin’s waist as he clung to the king’s shoulders for balance. Thorin’s mouth left his and Bilbo flushed at the chuckle that sounded against his lips.

 

“Are you sure, little one?” Thorin murmured against his mouth before brushing a soft, sweet kiss over the plump lips. “I will wait as long as you need.”

 

“I’m sure,” Bilbo whispered as he dug his hands into thick hair to stop their shaking. “I… I’m scared, but I want this.”

 

“Do not fear, Master Baggins,” Thorin laid him gently onto the bed. “I will be gentle with you…”

 

Bilbo smiled up at the dwarf, a shiver going down his spine as Thorin’s soft smile turned into a dark smirk.

 

“…Unless you beg otherwise.”

 

Bilbo gaped up at Thorin who busied himself with sliding Bilbo’s coat from his shoulders. The dwarf swept in to push harsh kisses to Bilbo’s neck, his beard rubbing against Bilbo’s soft skin in a most delightful way.

 

“Please…” Bilbo whispered as Thorin’s lips trailed up to Bilbo’s ear. The hobbit’s breath hitched and that was the only hint that Thorin needed. He moved fast, his tongue tracing Bilbo’s pointed ear from base to tip before he sucked gently on the tip.

 

Bilbo writhed in pleasure, his back arching and his mouth falling open. He became vaguely aware of the short gasping moans that were filling the room, moans he offhandedly realized were coming from him. His ears, like all hobbits, were extremely sensitive. His hands were tugging harshly at Thorin’s hair, which was earning him deep groans in return.

 

“Oh my, oh, Th-Thorin!” Bilbo panted heavily, his body wriggling like mad. “Please, oh please!”

 

“If you keep pulling my hair like that, little one, I won’t be able to stop,” Thorin growled as he blew softly on the ear. “And as much as I like the idea of having you come undone from my mouth on your ear alone, I have bigger plans for you this night, Halfling.”

 

Bilbo squirmed at that, his hands sliding from Thorin’s hair to push his cloak back from his shoulders. Thorin smirked and shrugged the cloak off, setting it aside for later. Bilbo shuffled and sat up, running his small hands wonderingly over Thorin’s impossibly broad shoulders. Hobbits were slender and small, none even came close to Thorin’s wide shoulders and thick chest.

 

Thorin seemed content to let Bilbo run his hands over him, his own hands settling around Bilbo’s waist. Bilbo glanced down at that, staring in wonder. Weeks on the road had leaned him out a little, though his stomach still poked out. However, Thorin’s large hands were only a handful of inches from touching each other, so large they were.

 

“Everything all right, Halfling?” Thorin asked cautiously as Bilbo’s movements stilled. Bilbo gazed up into bright blue eyes and couldn’t help but smile at the concern he saw there.

 

“Perfect,” he sighed before leaning in to press a gentle kiss to Thorin’s lips. Thorin groaned against his mouth, pushing forward and devouring the gentle lips before him.

 

“Mm,” Bilbo squirmed forward until he was seated on Thorin’s lap, pushing close to the other. He tugged at the base of Thorin’s tunic, wanting to pull it up and off. Thorin’s hands left his waist briefly to help, pulling off the clothing easily. As soon as his chest was bared for Bilbo’s eyes the dwarf’s hands settled back onto his waist.

 

Bilbo let his fingers trail through the dark hair that covered the chest before him, his nails scraping over Thorin’s nipples. Thorin groaned into his mouth and pulled him closer, tongue sliding into Bilbo’s mouth.

 

“You, my hobbit, will be the death of me,” Thorin panted into his mouth when they parted. “You know not how hard it was to restrain myself when Gandalf made his announcement. And then to watch as my Company offered themselves to you, knowing that you could accept any of them to give yourself to… it made my blood boil. I have wanted you as my own for the longest time, Halfling, and now that I have you…”

 

Bilbo shivered as Thorin shot forward, pinning Bilbo to the bed, his hair falling around them in a curtain. Bilbo reached up to tuck half the curtain behind Thorin’s ear, his fingers pausing to stroke there for a moment. Thorin’s eyes fell closed and he sighed deeply.

 

“I must watch myself,” he murmured, half to himself. “You are so small. So delicate. But so fierce. You make me forget that I have to be careful.”

 

“What if I don’t want you to be careful,” Bilbo leant up to whisper into Thorin’s ear. “What if I want you in your natural state?”

 

Bilbo shivered as Thorin snarled and pressed his hips forward. There was a wild look in his eyes, but it was subdued.

 

“Be cautious, little hobbit,” he hissed as his hips thrust against Bilbo’s again. “You know not what you unleash.”

 

Bilbo rocked back against the thrusts, his Took side bursting forth. He would not lay here like a blushing maiden to be deflowered, nor would he have Thorin be gentle and calm with him, holding back all he was in order to protect Bilbo from himself.

 

“I want you, Thorin,” Bilbo whispered into the dwarf’s ear before he licked it softly. “And I want you as you are, not this shadow of you. If we are to lie together then I would lay with you, not with an imitation of you. Treat me as you would any lover of yours.”

 

Thorin groaned throatily and thrust his hips forward. He latched his lips onto Bilbo’s throat, sucking harshly at the skin there. Bilbo whimpered and arched his back, eager for any attention Thorin would lavish on him.

 

Swift fingers unbuttoned his shirt, tugging it and his waistcoat from his shoulders. Bilbo lifted himself up enough to let it be pulled away, and then Thorin was on him again, lips tracing over his hairless chest, darting from nipple to nipple and eliciting all sorts of sounds from Bilbo that would usually have the hobbit quite embarrassed.

 

“You’re glorious, Bilbo,” Thorin whispered as he tossed Bilbo’s suspenders across the hut, hands darting to his trousers. Bilbo squeaked as Thorin didn’t hesitate, tugging open the laces and pulling the material down over slender hips.

 

Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut as Thorin removed the remainder of his clothes, leaving him bare beneath the dwarf. In the fading light Bilbo could see Thorin’s eyes tracing him, sparkling with an emotion Bilbo couldn’t quite place.

 

“I will show you pleasures you have never known, Bilbo,” Thorin whispered into his ear as large hands swept down to his legs, running teasingly over his thighs. “I’m going to make you scream.”

 

“Th-Thorin,” Bilbo panted, reaching up to grab a fistful of dark hair. “Please!”

 

“Please what, little one?” Thorin asked with a dark smirk. Bilbo felt his face flush and he looked away from the dwarf.

 

“Please, my king…” he whimpered softly. Thorin froze above him before melting against him with a groan.

 

“Not what I meant,” Thorin grunted as he nibbled on Bilbo’s neck. “But hearing you call me your king does things to me little one, things I dare not dwell on.”

 

Bilbo felt a sharp nip to his neck as he brought his hands up to tug at Thorin’s laces, wanting the other to be as naked as he was. He could feel Thorin’s hardness against his leg, and he couldn’t resist giving it a teasing rub as he pushed the trousers down.

 

“Tell me what you want, Bilbo,” Thorin grunted above him as he shoved the trousers down the rest of the way himself. “Tell me.”

 

“Everything,” Bilbo whimpered. His body was on fire, he wanted everything Thorin had to give him and more. “Please, just… everything.”

 

“Greedy little thing,” Thorin chuckled, and Bilbo flushed. A hand made its way down to cup his straining length and Bilbo arched up, unable to stop the reaction. “I wonder if the rest of your body is just as greedy…”

 

Bilbo felt his face enflame at Thorin’s scandalous words. He buried his face in the king’s shoulder, trying to hide his embarrassment and desire.

 

“Mmm, I think it is,” Thorin murmured, his voice holding undisguisable traces of emotion. “Let’s see, shall we?”

 

Bilbo blinked as Thorin moved, shifting above him to reach for his cloak. Bilbo squirmed onto his side to see what Thorin was doing, and received a stinging slap to his rear.

 

“Hey!” Bilbo stared in disbelief at Thorin. Had the king just spanked him like a fauntling? “Thorin!”

 

“Hold still,” Thorin ordered. “Or I won’t be able to restrain myself.”

 

Bilbo grumbled but settled back against the thin pillow. Thorin fumbled in his cloak for long moments before returning to Bilbo with a small vial in his hand. Bilbo wriggled in anticipation, sighing as he felt Thorin grasp his thighs. Thorin’s hands stroked the skin for a moment before darting in between.

 

Bilbo groaned when Thorin brushed his fingers lightly over his entrance. His hands flew up to Thorin’s shoulders and he tugged the dwarf closer, his fingers digging into the strong muscles.

 

“Bilbo,” Thorin grunted, his bright eyes boring into Bilbo’s. “Mahal, Bilbo, I want you so bad.”

 

“Then take me,” Bilbo whimpered. He lifted his hips, hoping he looked inviting. “Please, my king?”

 

Thorin snarled wordlessly at that and then slid a finger inside Bilbo. Bilbo bit his lip, his eyes sliding closed as the finger wriggled around. He hadn’t even noticed the dwarf slicking his finger. The feeling was strange, but welcome. Bilbo arched his back for more, pressing down on the finger.

 

“Does that feel good, little one?” Thorin murmured into Bilbo’s ear. “Do you like this?”

 

“Y-Yes,” Bilbo whimpered. He opened his eyes and stared up at Thorin, smiling as long tresses of dark hair tickled his face. “More?”

 

Thorin swept in and kissed him hard, the bruising kiss distracting Bilbo from the second finger sliding inside of him. Bilbo whimpered as the fingers scissored, stretching his muscles. It should not have felt so good, yet it did. There was something so amazingly satisfying about having a part of Thorin inside of him. He clenched down on the fingers and Thorin grunted above him, lips moving down to attack Bilbo’s neck.

 

“Thorin…” Bilbo couldn’t think, could barely breathe, couldn’t move. He could only cling to Thorin’s shoulders and moan. “Please… please…”

 

“Ease up,” Thorin whispered soothingly. “Relax and you can have another.”

 

“Yes,” Bilbo whispered. The third finger slid in and Bilbo’s eyes rolled back in his head. Thorin’s fingers had pressed over something inside of him that had sent pure pleasure darting through him. He clawed at Thorin’s shoulders in an effort to pull him closer and the king fell forward on top of him.

 

“That’s it, Bilbo, that’s it,” Thorin hissed into his ear, thrusting all three fingers into the hobbit at a bruising pace. “How does it feel?”

 

“Good! Oh, good!” Bilbo whimpered. “Oh Thorin…”

 

Thorin groaned heavily before withdrawing all three fingers. Bilbo moaned in despair at the loss, his hands scrambling on Thorin’s shoulders. Thorin laughed deeply, the rumble sounding through his chest to Bilbo.

 

And then there was Thorin, pressing inside of him. Bilbo writhed beneath him, hips squirming as Thorin moved forward. Bilbo had never been so full, never been so complete. Thorin was so huge inside of him, stretching him out and making him whimper with pure need.

 

“Oh, please, oh please,” Bilbo couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out. “So big, so good, Thorin, please, Thorin, Thorin, Thorin!”

 

With a wordless snarl Thorin surged forward. Bilbo’s mouth opened in a wordless scream as Thorin thrust forward, hips snapping in a furious rhythm. He didn’t give Bilbo a moment to recover; he simply hammered him for all he was worth. Bilbo could feel the bed creaking as Thorin thrust as hard as he could.

 

Bilbo wailed, clinging to Thorin tight as large hands gripped his hips tight. Bilbo could feel that there was going to be bruising, and it made him even more excited. With every thrust over that spot inside of him Bilbo felt completely and utterly owned. Thorin was holding him so tight that Bilbo thought he would never let him go.

 

“Please, oh Thorin, please,” Bilbo panted out. “Please, more, oh God, more!”

 

Thorin snarled and in a swift move rolled Bilbo over onto his stomach. He thrust back in and Bilbo screamed, his back arching as Thorin’s hands grabbed his hips, tugging him back as he thrust forward. The angle had Thorin entering him even deeper, and Bilbo’s hands scrambled for purchase on the blankets. Thorin didn’t allow it. He thrust harder and harder, not allowing Bilbo a moment to find a foothold.

 

“That’s it, Bilbo, that’s it,” Thorin grunted. “You feel so good; you’re taking me so good.”

 

“Thorin…” Bilbo pushed back as best he could. This was what he wanted. He wanted Thorin to take him wholly, wanted him to own him entirely, wanted Thorin to lose control.

 

Thorin pressed over him completely, panting heavily into Bilbo’s ear. Lips nibbled at the tip and Bilbo felt tears roll down his face, tears of pure pleasure. He sobbed into the pillow as Thorin’s tongue and teeth teased his ear while his thick length teased his prostate.

 

“You’re mine, my little one, my hobbit, my burglar,” Thorin grunted into his ear. “Tell me who you belong to, Bilbo, tell me.”

 

“Y-You,” Bilbo wailed the word out. “I belong to you, my king!”

 

“Yes,” Thorin snarled. “You do.”

 

“Oh, Oh Thorin,” Bilbo began to squirm uncontrollably. “Thorin! I’m gonna- I’m- please let me-”

 

“You don’t need my permission,” Thorin growled. “Come for me.”

 

Bilbo lost it. He fell forward onto the bed completely, giving over to Thorin’s thrusts inside of him. Lips and teeth returned to his ear and Bilbo cried out in pure pleasure as Thorin’s assault continued. Thorin’s face moved beside his, and pressed a soft kiss to Bilbo’s cheek.

 

“Come for me.”

 

Bilbo did. With one last cry he exploded beneath Thorin, his orgasm ripping through him so hard that the edge of his vision went grey. He was vaguely aware of Thorin thrusting a few more times before he stilled, heat flooding Bilbo’s insides. Thorin collapsed beside Bilbo, panting heavily. Bilbo blinked back tears of pure pleasure and exhaustion as he looked at Thorin, eyes filled with wonder. Thorin smiled at him, that soft beautiful smile that Bilbo had first seen when they had stood on the Carrock and looked out to see the Lonely Mountain in the distance. It was beautiful.

 

He was beautiful.

 

“Thorin…” Bilbo mumbled and he shuffled closer towards the king, not sure if his company would be welcome. Thorin ran a hand through Bilbo’s curls before he sat up.

 

“Give me a moment to get a cloth,” Thorin murmured. “Then I will return to you.”

 

Bilbo nodded lazily and watched as Thorin crossed to the nightstand. He picked up his waterskin and poured some onto a cloth. He returned to Bilbo and wiped him over quickly, taking care with his groin. Bilbo squirmed and blushed as he realized he had come without Thorin’s touch to his length. Would Thorin think him wanton? Would Thorin think him a liar? Would Thorin not want to touch him again?

 

Thorin wiped himself over much quicker and then tossed the cloth to the corner. He slumped back down next to Bilbo, drawing the hobbit into his arms quickly. Bilbo flopped over Thorin’s chest, letting out a huge sigh of pure relief. Thorin’s arms curled around him and he tilted Bilbo’s face up so he could look him in the eye.

 

“What is it?” Thorin asked softly, searching Bilbo’s face. Bilbo’s broke out into a smile he couldn’t stop. Thorin would never abandon him. Thorin would never hate him. He could see it in the dwarf’s eyes.

 

“I love you, Thorin Oakenshield,” Bilbo whispered, completely comfortable with saying words that might not be returned. “And I want you to know that before this journey goes any further.”

 

Thorin’s eyes searched Bilbo’s face for long moments before he pulled the hobbit close, pressing a soft kiss to Bilbo’s forehead.

 

“And I you, Bilbo Baggins,” he said in a low voice. A large hand reached down to grab the King’s cloak, dragging it up to cover them both. “Now, let me hold you for as long as I can, which I fear won’t be long at all.”

 

“What?” Bilbo’s brow crinkled as he sat up to look down at the king sprawled next to him. “What do you mean by th-”

 

“Uncle! Master Boggins!”

 

Bilbo shrieked and dove under the cloak. Thorin sighed heavily as he drew Bilbo close, covering the hobbit completely before levelling his glare on the two nephews bursting through the door.

 

“What do you want?” Thorin asked irritably. Fíli grinned his usual shit-eating grin while Kíli leered at Bilbo. Both were holding bowls.

 

“We brought dinner, Uncle,” Fíli announced, striding forward to hand both bowls to Thorin. Thorin took them with a sharp nod.

 

“Thank you,” he said with a grunt. “Now get out.”

 

Fíli raised his hands in defeat and began to back away. Thorin whipped his head across the room and snarled at Kíli, who had begun to lift the edge of the cloak to get a peek at Bilbo.

 

“Alright, alright!” Kíli backed away, joining his brother at the door. “We’ll wake you at first light, Uncle Thorin, Uncle Bilbo.”

 

Thorin ignored the two as he set the bowls on the nightstand. He reached under the cloak and pulled Bilbo out by the arms, smiling fondly down at him.

 

“Come eat, Bilbo,” he murmured. His gaze turned dark and a smirk overtook his face. “You’ll need your energy.”

 

“What?” Bilbo gazed up at Thorin in confusion, even as the dwarf manoeuvred Bilbo to straddle his lap. “Thorin?”

 

Thorin thrust lightly up against him and Bilbo threw his arms around Thorin’s shoulders with a startled squeak.

 

“Again?” he cried. “Thorin!”

 

“It’s vital,” Thorin said, his smirk even darker than usual. “We need to make sure that there is no way the dragon could mistake you for a virgin.”

 

“Thorin!”

 

 

Notes:

Hey, so I have a question for you all! What is your preferred Frodo pairing?

I just can't stand Frodo/Sam. I don't know what it is, I just can't get into it.

So aside from that one, who do you all prefer to read Frodo with?