Ambassador to Madness

Credit goes to SunnyRose

Chapter 10: Bad News from the Shire

Summary:

Bilbo receives a letter with bad news, and Thorin helps him to keep Lobelia away from his home.

Bilbo was unimaginably grateful for Dori's insistence on accompanying him as the crowd seemed to pick up the closer they came to the Guilds Halls. Bilbo had never used the market entrance before. When he and Thorin had gone to visit Khorsi, they had used the private entrance from the royal halls. Thorin had explained that they existed because it was more compact and made it easier to be guarded. Bilbo hadn't understood at the time, but he certainly did now.

The hall was wide enough for thirty dwarves to walk side by side comfortably. Buildings that represented each guild were carved into the rock and lined both sides of the hall. Great massive doorways stood open, inviting dwarves in, and Bilbo noticed that it was like there were mini markets inside each one. Bilbo had no idea this was here, and he was almost overwhelmed by it.

"Dori, why do you and the others of the main market set up your stalls out there if there's all of this in here?"

"Because these are guild markets. Any vendor has to be a member of the guild, abide by the guilds' rules, and use the guilds' prices."

Bilbo frowned. "Are the guilds unfair?"

"Not exactly!" Dori was quick to defend. "There are actually many benefits to being in a guild. For one thing, they have the ear of the king and therefore can advocate for their members more easily than a private vendor can in open court. You also are guaranteed a wage. So even if your designs and craft do poorly in the market, you still walk away with coin in your pocket at the end of the day."

"I'm assuming there is a 'but' in there somewhere."

Dori gave him a thin smile. "Yes, Your Highness. But guilds have a hierarchy. There is a Guild Head and a council of Guild Advisors. They determine what should be sold and how. It doesn't lend itself to a very creative environment, and there's very little opportunity to move up in a guild. On top of that, there is an entry fee to be in a guild that is due at the beginning of every year."

Bilbo thought that over, mulling over the good and the bad. It was definitely different. The Baggins Family have owned the Hobbiton markets since Balbo Baggins himself. So he knew a bit about what went into renting stalls and collecting dues. However, any hobbit who has a product or service to sell did all that themselves. It was up to them to set their price, haggle if necessary, and make their payments. He could see how being in a guild might benefit someone starting out in their chosen field, but for someone like Torlan it would be incredibly stifling. It made him think of Bifur and how his designs were thriving. He wondered if they just did things differently when he remembered what Thorin said about a change in leadership.

"How often do Guild Heads change?" He asked.

Dori shook his head. "Almost never. It would either be due to their declining health that they volunteer to step back, or if the guild calls for a vote of no confidence. In very rare cases, the King might step in and remove a guild head if he felt they weren't doing right by the guild but even that takes the long process of a trial before the council."

Bilbo frowned in thought as Dori steered them through the third building on the right. Bilbo looked up, marveling at the giant stone scissors and realistic looking spools of thread carved high above the doors before they stepped into the massive room. There were many different stalls where dwarves were trying on clothes or being measured. A dwarf stepped up to them asking if he could assist, and Bilbo informed him that they were there to speak with Bofur and Bifur. The dwarf's expression morphed into terror for a small moment before urging them on to the next level.

Bilbo and Dori shared a look as they climbed the stairs and stepped through the door. The moment they walked into the hall, Bilbo knew something was wrong. Every dwarf's attention was pulled to the back of the room where a large gathering was taking place. Bilbo and Dori shared a look, the dwarf taking a protective step in front of him as they moved towards the crowd. The dwarves they passed gave a double take before they immediately started whispering amongst themselves. Bilbo was getting unnerved by the judgemental stares that he wasn't certain he earned, but at least the crowd parted to give him a front row view of the drama unfolding.

Bofur stood in front of Bifur with his arms crossed, an unimpressed look on his face. Across from him, screaming at the top of his lungs, surrounded by four guards, was Roku.

"Rukhstulkh muha barkmêzu (an orc smith made your axe) and then embedded it in your head! You don't DESERVE to be head of the guild! The son of a miner and a failure at everything else. This is a mistake! And if that beardless abrâfu shaikmashâz (descendant of rats) thinks he can get away with it..."

Bofur finally spoke up at that, his fists clenched tight. "The Consort had nothing to do with this, and you know it! The laws of the guilds state the member who generates the most revenue gets their designs featured. You failed to uphold this basic right and so a vote of no confidence was called. If you're looking for someone to blame, then blame yourself for being too proud to dress royalty!"

Bilbo flinched as Dori put a handout on his shoulder.

Roku sneered. "That Halfling is no royal of mine."

That was the point where Bilbo had enough. He stepped forward causing gasps from the group of onlookers who hadn't seen him yet. Bifur raised his eyebrows in surprise, and Bofur looked slightly alarmed.

"Given that I have just recently been instructed in that area of dwarven law, I can say with certainty that I do count as royalty at this point. But I believe there is a far bigger issue here. What exactly is the problem?"

One of the guards opened his mouth to answer him when Roku beat him to the punch.

"You clod of dirt. " He spat. "All this because I offered you boots like any sane being in Middle Earth? It would be like our prince to fall for some wanton mud-loving pig ."

Bilbo was stunned and more than a little mortified having never been so brazenly insulted in all his life. Bofur and Bifur immediately rose to his defense, cursing the dwarf out in Khuzdul as Dori turned his sharp gaze to the gobsmacked guards.

"Are you just going to stand there as your Consort is attacked?" He asked icily.

The guards finally seemed to realize they should be doing something as they seized Roku and began to drag him away.

"YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE LAST OF ME HALFLING! NO DWARVEN COURT WILL STAND FOR THIS!"

For a long moment, no one seemed to know what to do as they all just stood around talking amongst themselves. Dori was the one to break the atmosphere as he ordered them all back to work. The guild quickly jumped back into some semblance of order and Bofur and Bifur ushered them into Bifur's new office.

"My Prince Consort, are you okay?" Dori asked him.

"I'm fine." Bilbo tried to wave away, but then his emotions caught up and he quickly changed his mind. "No, I'm not. What on Arda was that back there?!"

Bifur started speaking in rapid fire Khuzdul and no amount of lessons with Ori had Bilbo understand what he was saying. Bofur quickly started translating, an apologetic look in his eyes.

"I am so sorry, Bil-Your Highness. Ever since Bifur's designs started catching on all over Erebor, more of the tailors were pulled away to work on his projects. Roku got jealous and tried to push back against it, and a vote was called. Bifur won by a landslide, and you came in on the tailend of that I'm afraid."

"Well then, congratulations to you, Bifur." Bilbo stated first and foremost. "What's going to happen to Roku at this point?"

"He was witnessed by nearly two dozen dwarves threatening the Prince Consort." Dori grumbled. "He's going to be locked up for a very long time."

That made Bilbo feel a little better even though he hated to say it. He already has Thror's threat lingering in the back of his mind, he would hate to have to worry about Roku as well.

"Now did you come down for anything in particular, or was this more of a social visit?" Bofur asked.

"Oh!" Bilbo exclaimed, having nearly forgotten about it in all the excitement. "Yes well, I was hoping you might help me in a more private matter."

Bofur's eyes went wide. "Uhh, sure, sure. I'll do what I can."

Everyone else filed out to give them their privacy, and Bilbo explained what it was he wanted. He also talked about his near disastrous meeting with Torlan, and Bofur about fell out of his seat at that.

"You asked Torlan Forge Whisperer for a spoon!" He guffawed.

"It is a perfectly reasonable request." Bilbo huffed. "He's the one too stuck-up to do it."

Bofur's cackles increased in volume, and Bilbo rather thought he might pass out from the lack of air at any moment. It would serve him right. Family feuds have broken out in the Shire over a good set of silverware. Torlan Ego Whisperer should have been honored to make Bilbo's spoon. Luckily for Bilbo, Bofur didn't seem to share the same arrogance.

After he had finally been able to calm himself, he asked for a little more clarification on what exactly Bilbo wanted on the spoon. He nodded along, thinking that all sounded just fine.

"Do you want a bowl?"

"A bowl?" Bilbo repeated.

Bofur's lips twitched, but he maintained his decorum. "To go with the spoon. I could make a very nice wooden bowl that matched the design."

Bilbo hadn't thought about that, but yes! That would be perfect. Oh! Bilbo had a wonderful summer soup recipe as well. It was actually a very old Shire recipe called 'The Green Lady's Soup'. Made from most of their summer vegetables as well as some tasteful herbs and a little bit of cream, it turned into a lovely green color and was then served cold. That would show his ability to provide for sure.

"Well, it certainly doesn't sound too complicated. I think I could have it done within the week."

Bilbo gasped in delight. "That would be lovely. Thank you, Bofur."

"No need to thank me." He laughed before his face turned pensive. "Honestly, I can't thank you enough for what you've done for Bif and Bombur. Even if that comes with a'lâju Mahal (shame of Mahal) filth like that Roku."

Bilbo paled as he remembered the angry words once more. "Oh, yes. I suppose I should discuss the matter with my husband."

Bofur nodded in agreement before offering to walk Bilbo to the door. Bilbo thanked him profusely before thanking Dori for giving up his time to join him on his errands as well as congratulated Bifur once more on his well-earned promotion. His friends walked him to the hallway that would take him back to his chambers, only leaving his side when they were able to see the security of the guards around the corner. Bilbo gave them a little wave as he continued on the well-known path.

He had just passed the doorway to the formal dining room when he could hear quite a commotion coming from down the hall. He peered down that way to see several dwarves hard at work with pickaxes and chisels. Bilbo turned and asked Tarvem who was stationed nearby what was going on. She shrugged.

"Some sort of renovation on Prince Thorin's orders. We weren't given more information than making sure the builders were escorted in and out."

Bilbo thanked her for the information promising he would have some more butter biscuits ready to share soon. Bilbo found himself curious at what Thorin could possibly be building. Perhaps a new set of rooms! Their current ones were certainly fine, but it didn't have the coziness he was accustomed to in Bag End. Besides, the little kitchen was a true travesty that he would not be remiss to see an actual space for him to cook in.

When Bilbo entered the suite, he could hear the sound of papers rustling from Thorin's study and assumed his husband had already beaten him back. He knocked on the door before carefully easing it open to see that his thoughts had been proven true. Thorin sat at his desk, his spectacles perched on the end of his nose as he stared down at the reports in his hand. Upon Bilbo's entrance, he quickly removed the glasses, setting them aside as he forced a grin to his face.

"How was your afternoon?" He asked.

Bilbo chose not to comment on the glasses as he did every time, he caught Thorin with them on and then watched him hide them from Bilbo. He didn't understand his shame. He thought Thorin looked quite dashing indeed.

"It was...eventful." He determined. "Not exactly what I would call a red-letter day, although I did end up getting more accomplished than I set out to. There was just this thing down at the Tailors' Guild..."

"Oh! Speaking of letters!" Thorin interrupted, fishing around on his desk for something. "A raven arrived early with a letter for you. I believe it's from the Shire."

Any irritation he felt at being cut off was completely smoothed away as Bilbo took the letter. From the Shire! Who could it be? He supposed his dear gardener, Mr. Greenhand, was updating him on the upkeep of his estate. Or perhaps his grandfather was checking in on him. Bilbo opened the letter, proven correct on it being his grandfather, distinctive in his penmanship. However, his brows were beginning to furrow the further he read into the missive. He got all the way to the bottom before he released a deep, bellowing scream.

Thorin jumped out of his seat, hand going to the sword at his belt as he looked around in alarm. Bilbo could also register the door opening as their guards poured into the room as well, but his eyes were solely on the horrid, horrid news contained in the letter.

"THAT AWFUL WITCH OF A HOBBIT! IF SHE THINKS SHE CAN GET AWAY WITH THIS, SHE HAS ANOTHER THING COMING!"

Bilbo turned his head, nostrils flaring to see five dwarves gaping at him in shock, his husband included. He waved his hand as he marched right towards them. They scattered to get out of his way at his command.

"I'M GOING BACK TO THE SHIRE BEFORE THAT VILE WEASEL HAS A CHANCE AT TAKING WHAT IS RIGHTFULLY MINE!"

Thorin spoke in low tones to the guards as Bilbo marched himself into his room pulling out a pack that he angrily started to stuff clothes into.

"Bilbo? What is wrong?"

"Lobelia Sackville-Baggins!" He proclaimed with a rather petulant toss of his trousers. "That's what's wrong. She is conspiring to have the Shire Council revoke my seats so she can take my house!"

"Wait, Bilbo. You're not making any sense." Thorin declared stepping forward to take his hand in his own. "What is the Shire Council and how can they take your house?"

Bilbo could still feel himself shaking at the sheer audacity of the act. However, the warmth of Thorin's hand was comforting, and Bilbo found himself calming just enough to be able to explain the situation to his husband. Bilbo sighed as he led them over to the settee.

"The Shire...doesn't operate the way Erebor does. I know that other kingdoms recognize my grandfather, the Thain, as a sort of king, but he doesn't wield power the way Thror or even you do."

"What do you mean?" Thorin pressed.

"There are three main figureheads that in the event of 'hard times' would make all the decisions for the Shire. That's the Thain, the Mayor of Michel Delving, and the Master of Buckland, which isn't technically the Shire, but as a very close ally, he sits in on decisions."

"Okay." Thorin accepted although Bilbo could still see he was a bit confused. "And the Council?"

"So, when we're not in hard times, the three have to consult with the Council of the Shire. All the prominent family heads have a seat on the council and all decisions are made by vote. Each member including those three only get one vote a piece and majority rules. The Thain can't override any decision made even if it goes against his vote, you see."

Bilbo could tell Thorin did not see. Not even a little bit. He seemed to be aghast that they made decisions in this way.

"A council is supposed to advise their leaders, not make decisions in their stead." Thorin complained.

"Well, that's not how things are done in the Shire." Bilbo snapped. "Now do you want to hear why I'm upset or not?"

Thorin pursed his lips but nodded his head.

"So, the Council of the Shire is made up of the three Heads, the nine Families, and the last vote belongs to whoever wins Best in Show that year at the Harvest Festival. Don't you dare interrupt me, Thorin Oakenshield!"

Thorin closed his mouth and crossed his arms, but did not say a word.

"I am the Head of the Baggins after I inherited the position with my father's passing."

Thorin nodded at this so Bilbo assumed this at least was normal behavior for dwarves.

"But I also won Best in Show last fall. So until this next fall, I hold two votes on the council."

Thorin's jaw dropped at the admittance. "Bilbo..." He started, his voice a little gruff. "That makes you the most powerful member of the council. Anyone who is trying to get their motion passed would have to cater to your opinion or hope they have enough backing from the rest of the members."

Bilbo shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, that is the right of it."

"So what's the problem?"

Bilbo scowled. "My thieving, nasty cousin-in-law is the problem! You see, since I am unmarried... was unmarried and don't have any children of my own, my 'heir' so to speak is my cousin, Otho. And his wife Lobelia is calling for a vote of no confidence in me since I left to become an ambassador, but have sent no news back in the Shire's stead other than...my marriage."

Thorin's brows pinched together as he gave Bilbo's hand a squeeze. "And what's this have to do with your house?"

Bilbo sighed and dropped his gaze. "By Shire law, if a house has been unlived in for a year, then the hobbit can be declared 'dead' and the house put up for auction or inherited by the next of kin."

"But you're not dead!" Thorin declared. "Nor has it been a year!"

"But they know I'm married in Erebor." Bilbo answered softly. "There's no precedence for this so Lobelia is also having the council weigh in on whether my house should be passed on to her and Otho."

Now it was Thorin's turn to stand and begin pacing as dwarven expletives fell from his lips. Bilbo was actually proud he knew half of them.

"They'll still need seven votes to see the motion passed as my votes would be votes of abstaining since I'll not be present." Bilbo pointed out. "But I'm going to have to go home to see if I can sway at least five members not to vote with her. My grandfather of course won't vote with her, as well as my Uncle Gorbadoc who is the current Master of Buckland so there's two. Unfortunately, the Burrows are still upset that my father consulted with a Brockhouse for the design of his smial. So I'll lose their vote on principle, but gain the Brockhouse vote. But that's only three."

Bilbo noticed Thorin's jaw was dropped and asked him about it.

"So not only are you the most powerful member on the Shire Council, your grandfather is Thain, and your uncle is the leader of your closest ally?"

"Yes, yes. You married very well." Bilbo waved away with a sigh. "It's still not enough to fix my problem."

Thorin shook his head still seeming a bit stunned as he got himself back on task.

"Right. Will you actually be able to get there before the vote is cast?"

Bilbo pursed his lips. He hadn't thought that far in advance to be honest. He just knew he couldn't sit here and wait around while his house was pulled out from under him. It was his. The place where he lived and grieved each of his parents, and regardless of the fact that he was technically married here in Erebor, he refused to give it up. Thorin seemed to read his silence for what it was as he offered up a solution.

"Her only argument is that you're not fulfilling your role as ambassador. So what if we changed that?"

Bilbo turned his gaze onto the dwarf sharply. "What do you mean?"

"Well, what would you have argued for if you had been an ambassador from the Shire?"

"An alliance. An alliance with Ered Luin."

A grin spread across Thorin's face. "That's it? Truly?"

Bilbo jumped to his feet ready to give the dwarf a piece of his mind. "Well I'm sorry if it's not as glamorous as some of the other offers you receive but for us hobbits...!"

"No, Bilbo." Thorin stopped him. "You misunderstand. This is an easy fix!"

"It is?" Bilbo asked.

"My sister and Vili live in Ered Luin." Thorin implored. "I have the ear of their council. It will just take a bit of tinkering with our own council, but we could very easily see this arranged and all in your name as well."

Bilbo was stunned. After all, Thorin had no stake in whether or not Bilbo kept his house.

"You would do this? For me?" He asked softly.

Thorin looked caught off-guard as he answered. "Of course."

Bilbo felt his breath catch. He knew they were courting. He knew Thorin was making an effort to get along better. However, this seemed beyond that. If Thorin knew what it meant to promise a hobbit a home for them...Bilbo ducked his head in an attempt to hide his flaming cheeks.

"Right." He coughed. "So where does that leave us then?"

Thorin grimaced. "Unfortunately, that means you'll have to face the Ereborian Council."

Bilbo scoffed. "My dear prince, I will have you know I sat through a three hour argument between Mister Proudfoot and Mister Hornblower on whether or not it was 'Proudfoots' or 'Proudfeet' and 'Old Toby' or 'Longbottom Leaf'. I promise you I can handle anything your council may dare to throw at me!"

***

Bilbo quickly realized he may not be equipped to handle the Ereborian council, but to be fair, he didn't realize it would involve literal weapons. Thorin turned to him with a smug smirk and Bilbo scowled at him before his attention was brought to the axe skating across the table to land right in front of him.

"Now lads, why don't you behave?" Balin sighed. "We have company after all."

A couple of the dwarves started laughing, shooting Bilbo a smirk.

"If our dear consort can't handle us at our best, Balin, maybe this isn't the place for him."

Bilbo furrowed his brows knowing this was some sort of test. He looked at Thorin, noting the hardened look in his eyes before turning back to the other dwarves.

"Oh dear. I didn't realize behaving like faunts throwing a tantrum was the theme of this meeting. In the Shire, we tend to let our words do the talking, and I can promise you my bark does bite."

It was quiet for a long moment. So long that Bilbo feared he might have gone too far and actually insulted the council instead. The same dwarf as before suddenly burst into cackles.

"By my beard, you've got yourself a little Silvertongue here Thorin. How do you ever win an argument?"

They all erupted into roars at that point. Thorin, however, remained calm, standing at the head of the table as he sent them a smirk.

"That's easy, Nirrik, I don't. Let's get back to business, shall we?"

There were some nods and grunts, and Balin nudged him, giving him a little wink.

"Good job, lad."

"Now, I've called this meeting to discuss an alliance between the Shire and Ered Luin. I let my Consort explain the details."

Bilbo stood and cleared his throat. "Right. Thank you, Thor-Your Highness. I would like to begin by reminding everyone here of the Fell Winter. Erebor, here in the east, weathered the storm rather well, but those of us in the west weren't so lucky. We lost many of our number, and I believe the same could be said of dwarves that were returned to the stone too soon."

Bilbo paused here, noting all the serious and intent faces staring back at him. He looked over to Thorin who merely gave him a nod in return. So far, so good.

"An alliance between our two lands could be beneficial for a number of reasons, the first and foremost being food. As Ered Luin is not a farming community, we can share our yields at a discounted price. Then there is the matter of our markets. Having the dwarves of Ered Luin integrate into Shire markets will provide the dwarves of Ered Luin with good honest work and the hobbits a chance to get good dwarven made crafts. Right now, we have to import a lot of our iron materials from Bree, which we all know is subpar compared to that which Ered Luin could bring."

The dwarves all nodded along at this, and Bilbo was very thankful Thorin coached him through this.

"All we would ask in return of this alliance is the promise that should the Shire need aid, the dwarves of Ered Luin will answer."

"That all sounds well and good, Your Highness." One of the other dwarves interrupted him while running a hand down his impressive beard. "But it sounds like this would be a speech better prepared for the Lord of Ered Luin. What's it got to do with us?"

Thorin was quick to answer at this point. "We all know Lord Kulthik is traditional in his approach to outsiders. But we might be able to sweeten the deal enough for him to consider allying with the hobbits. Let him send a delegate to sit at the table like he's asked for years."

The council offered up groans at this to which Thorin was quick to point out.

"Just new blood for you all to threaten."

That got them back to chuckling although Bilbo could see they really weren't enthusiastic about the deal so he felt like he needed to offer a little more.

"Please." He stated. "Erebor has become very near and dear to me, but the Shire was my home. I only want what's best for both my people. The people I was born to, and the people who have accepted me into theirs."

Bilbo looked over at Thorin at this, only to see the dwarf staring at him in wonder. Bilbo cocked his head wondering what it was he said that put that look on his husband's face. Before he could muse anymore on that, Balin stood up.

"Thank you, Your Highness, for those beautiful words. The council will deliberate and get back to you promptly."

Bilbo nodded his head as he stood up and thanked the council for their time. They promptly jumped to their feet to bow to him, murmuring words of departure to him as well. He waited outside the door for only a moment when Thorin came out after him, immediately scooping Bilbo up under his arms and twirling him around.

"You did amazing!"

Bilbo gasped, his heart jumping into his throat and racing beneath his skin as Thorin set him back down again. Bilbo gave him a breathless smile.

"That wasn't so bad. Honestly, they are much more agreeable than you painted them out to be."

Thorin shook his head, but pierced him with that wonderful disarming smile of his.

"It will take them a bit of time to make a decision, but I'm very optimistic about this."

"That's good. And thank you again for setting this all up."

Thorin took his hand. "Bilbo, stop. You deserve to have your home for as long as you would like."

Bilbo gave him a nod as he tried not to focus on how sweaty his palm was getting. Because Bilbo couldn't help but realize it had been so long since he even thought about Bag End, much less going back to the Shire. What if he was holding on to something he didn't need anymore? And could he handle the implications of what that meant about him and Thorin.

***

Bofur had delivered Bilbo's bowl and spoon the day before, and Bilbo thought after a successful meeting, this was the perfect night to present his courting gift. Bofur had done a wonderful job. The bowl was a square bowl with a geometric design running along the inner lip, and the outside was decorated with ravens' feathers. Then the spoon had an actual raven carved into the handle and a matching geometric design along the rim. Bilbo had thanked the dwarf profusely for his work, probably embarrassing him if his red cheeks were anything to go off. Now Bilbo just needed the soup.

Bombur had sent up some ingredients as requested. They didn't have all the vegetables that Bilbo usually used for his Green Lady's Soup, but he had enough to capture that flavor. He set to work, chopping vegetables and stewing them on the stovetop. He then drained them and added the herbs and cream for taste. He mixed it all together watching it change to that lovely green color before setting it aside. Now he just had to wait for Thorin.

Thorin had returned to the meeting to hear the arguments and get a good beat on where they were at. Bilbo felt his stomach tie itself in knots. He didn't know what he would do if he had to say goodbye to Bag End for good. And all the way from Erebor. He wouldn't even get to see it one last time before it was taken out from under him. It occurred to him that their original contract had travel time for Bilbo to go back to the Shire that he hadn't used yet. Maybe it was time? He just wished things weren't such a mess right now. He would hate to leave Thorin to some terrible fate if there was something he could have done to prevent it.

Bilbo heaved a sigh, feeling so lost. His heart, torn between two very different versions of home. Before he could muse on this anymore, Thorin came bursting through the door. Bilbo hopped to his feet, his fingers ghosting over his clothing as he waited for Thorin to react.

"Well?" He asked delicately.

Thorin burst into a wide grin and Bilbo felt like he was flying.

"Oh Thorin! Really?!"

"Nothing official yet, but they were definitely leaning in your favor when we decided to adjourn for the evening. Let's hope they hold onto those ideals on the morrow."

Bilbo rushed over to him, pulling him into as tight a hug as he could manage. Thorin's heart rested just under his ear and was pounding so loud when he felt Thorin bend his head down to his hair and sigh. Bilbo froze. Finding the position too intimate, too foreign, he carefully pulled himself back, maintaining his smile so as to not give Thorin the idea he was displeased. Bilbo wanted to say something, anything about the turmoil of emotions running through him, but his throat closed tighter and tighter every time he was about to reveal something that might give him away.

"Soup!" He blurted.

Thorin's eyebrows scrunched together, and Bilbo cursed himself the fool.

"I made us soup." He explained. "Come."

He led Thorin into the dining room, setting his bowl and spoon out before him. Thorin laughed lightly.

"I honestly didn't know that kitchen actually worked. You've made far better use of it than I ever did."

"Well, this is a little special all things considered." He admitted. "Thorin, I...I would like to present you with my first courting gift. A gift to Provide."

Thorin blinked in surprise before analyzing the dinnerware with renewed interest. He held up the bowl and spoon to the light for inspection before giving Bilbo his verdict.

"This is excellent craftsmanship. I accept."

"Oh well, that's just the first part. I made the soup to go in it. Bofur did the carving after all, and I wanted this to be personal like your first gift."

Thorin smiled at him brilliantly. "Then I can only imagine how much better the soup will be. Bring it forth, I will savor every bite."

Bilbo felt a blush travel clear up to his ears. It was a rather shameless flirtation in the Shire to promise to clean your plate of your beloved's cooking, and Bilbo was caught a bit off-guard. He quickly excused himself, taking a few moments to catch his breath, before bringing back the serving bowl.

"Here we are. This is a beloved Shire recipe. We call it The Green Lady's Soup." Bilbo dished out a ladleful into Thorin's bowl. "I hope you enjoy it!"

Thorin stared down into the bowl, his expression never wavering beyond widened eyes as he took it in. Bilbo wondered why he was hesitating before he remembered.

"Almost forgot!" He took the spoon and dipped out a small bite that he then sampled. "It was prepared by me so I didn't foresee any foul play, but it is perfect, My Prince."

Thorin went for a smile that came out more like a grimace as he picked up the spoon with shaky hands. He dipped himself out the smallest portion possible before shoveling it in his mouth. His face went through a comical variety of changes, ranging from disgust to joy.

"It's certainly...soup-like. I'm afraid it's gone cold though."

"No, no. It's supposed to be cold. It's a summer soup."

That must have been what it was. Thorin just didn't expect the temperature.

"You do like it though?" Bilbo asked nervously.

Thorin nodded his head even as he hesitated to take another bite.

"Say, Bilbo? Could I trouble you to bring me some ale?" Thorin asked suddenly.

Bilbo brightened. "No trouble at all! I'll be right back."

Bilbo couldn't have been gone but five minutes when he came back to find Thorin's bowl completely empty as he patted his belly in satisfaction.

"Well that was quick!" Bilbo remarked.

"Oh, I couldn't help myself. It was so delicious."

"Could I interest you in seconds then?" Bilbo asked.

Thorin jumped up from his seat.

"No, no. I think I should probably get some work done tonight." He made sure to grab Bilbo's hands. "But this was great. Bilbo, I really do accept."

Bilbo smiled at him as Thorin left the room quickly. It wasn't until Bilbo turned back around that he noticed a splatter of soup on the table between the serving bowl and Thorin's bowl. Bilbo furrowed his brows. He was quite sure he didn't drip when he was serving. His father would be rolling in his grave if he did. Hobbits were raised not to waste food after all. That's when he noticed the messy lip on Thorin's bowl.

Did he actually put it back? Bilbo slammed the tankard of ale down on the table as all the fluttery feelings he had before about the dwarf were incinerated by the fury pulsing through his veins. Bilbo had never been so insulted before! He had several words for him, and ' I accept ' wouldn't even top the list. Bilbo marched out of the room about to make his presence known when he heard voices. Well, to be more specific...laughter.

"So, he has no idea you hated it? What are you going to do when he offers to make it for you in the future?" Dwalin cackled.

Bilbo couldn't believe it. He was actually gossiping about how much he hated it. Bilbo felt the blow like it had been a physical wound.

"Not so loud." Thorin shushed in a quieter voice. "And I'll fake it like I did tonight."

Dwalin spluttered. "Why don't you just tell him the truth?"

"Like he told me the truth about his crown?"

Bilbo had to slap a hand over his mouth to keep from gasping. Thorin knew. He could feel his face burning brightly. Oh, it was so much more mortifying to know that someone else knew how lewd that crown was. Even more so that the someone was his husband who made it.

"Yeah, Ori really saved your ass finding you that book on flower language. So let me get this straight: you screwed up on your first gift, and he screwed up on his...and you still think it's a good idea to pursue this?"

"Of course." Thorin answered without hesitation.

Bilbo felt like the air had been punched straight from his lungs. The fire in his chest immediately extinguished. Slowly, he backed up into the dining room, leaving them to finish their conversation in peace. Bilbo sat himself at the table, dishing himself some soup, eating it half-heartedly as he thought of everything, he learned this evening.

He was still fairly bruised from Thorin not liking his soup, but he also realized he had yet to see a dish that was mostly green within his time in Erebor. He had just thought it was a seasonal thing, but maybe it was cultural. Maybe it had been fairly short-sighted of him to think a traditional Shire soup would be appreciated by a dwarf. Perhaps Thorin thought he was being kind. He was still going to get back at him somehow some way, but that was secondary to the other piece of information he learned tonight.

Bilbo needed to quit trying to rationalize this as something other than what it was. This was a courting. Not a chance to get to know the other better. Not Thorin trying to make the best of their marriage. Thorin was courting him actively. It was okay for him to be feeling the way he does. It was okay for him to be falling in love with Thorin. His heart felt like it did a flip in his chest. He could love Thorin, because Thorin was falling in love with him in return. Bilbo bit his lip as he fought off the smile trying to spread across his face.

Bilbo was actually glad Torlan was able to talk him into his design. He had a feeling it would go over much better, and for the first time, Bilbo was invested in this courting going well.