Celebration

Credit to BerityBaker

  Bofur was about to flip his lid if he had to hear one more word from Thorin. He was driving himself mad, getting everything ready for the celebrations, making sure Gandalf and his fireworks would be in attendance, gathering enough food for all of Hobbiton, and making a point of forcing his party to help.

Not that they wouldn't help, anyway. Fili and Kili were having a blast with Merry and Pippin throwing streamers around the garden, and Bofur himself was rather enjoying himself helping the musicians prepare. But if Thorin didn't stop--

"No, no, not over there," he muttered absentmindedly at some hobbit children setting up a spot for horseshoes. "There's not enough room over there."

"Thorin, let them be," Bofur told him.

"They're simply trying to help," Balin said from the edge of the garden.

"But they're doing it wrong!" Thorin barked, making the small hobbits jump.

Bofur turned to them. "He doesn't mean it. Run along, now." When they did, he turned to Thorin. "What is the matter?"

Thorin didn't answer.

"Master Baggins will love it."

Thorin sighed. "Yes, I know."

At that moment, the door opened out onto the garden. "Thorin, do you--"

Bilbo had the door slammed in his face. "He's fine, Master Baggins."

"What's going on out there?" Bilbo shouted suspiciously, his voice muffled.

"Nothing, Gimlìth. Go back to your writing."

Dwalin rolled his eyes. "I'm sure he's not suspicious at all, you keeping him inside all day."

"I'm not trying to keep the celebrations secret. I simply know that he will wish to help."

"It's likely why he came out in the first place," Balin agreed. "It is young Frodo's birthday as well, and being at Bag End makes Master Baggins a bit..."

"Controlling?" Kili supplied, now playfully fencing his brother, carefully avoiding Bilbo's flowers, for fear of Bilbo's wrath. There were things he knew not to do, lines he knew not to cross, when it came to hobbits, especially this particular one.

Balin sighed. "Not the term I wished to use, but yes."

"Thorin Oakensheild," a voice sounded from behind him, and they all turned to see Gandalf, the brim of his hat lowered against the sunlight, his staff tapping rhythmically against the fence.

"Gandalf." Thorin nodded in greeting.

"Thorin Oakensheild," Gandalf repeated, grinning. "King Under the Mountain, preparing a celebration in the Shire."

"For Master Baggins, anything," Thorin grunted, though he himself smiled and turned away. "I do hope you've got your fireworks ready."

"But of course, so long as you've got the wine."

"This celebration is going to be fantastic," Kili said to Pippin when he saw Gandalf and Thorin speaking.

+++

The party was in full swing late that night, when Bilbo pulled Thorin aside and kissed him.

Thorin blushed, still unused to the Hobbits' public way of expressing affection, but smirked all the same. "Having fun?"

"I'm having a marvelous time," Bilbo replied.

The music had hit a small lull, but was quickly picking back up again. Suddenly, little Frodo was at his side, tugging on his sportcoat.

"Uncle. Uncle! There's dancing. Why aren't you dancing?"

Bilbo laughed. "It seems the merriment must continue," he said to Thorin, and let Frodo drag him into a crowd of Hobbits with quick-moving feet. However, he didn't let go of Thorin's hand, and so dragged him along as well.

They jigged and twirled through the garden, skipped in circles, all the while with Thorin following Bilbo's lead and smiling jubilantly.

"I think I'm catching on," Thorin shouted over the din.

"Of course you are. There's nothing to do but dance."

"Would you like me to teach you a dwarven tradition?"

Bilbo nodded, struggling to keep himself relatively calm. He loved it when Thorin shared his customs with him. Each braid, each bead, each small gift his dwarf shared with him made him giddy beyond anything else.

"There is a dance, reserved for the birthday celebrations of Dwarf royalty. Lively as your Hobbits, but a bit more strict in structure."

"But I'm not royalty," Bilbo protested.

"Nonsense, âzyungel. Watch my step."

Bilbo followed the dance carefully at half-speed, taking in each of Thorin's movements and duplicating them the best he could. Soon they were zipping through the crowd, around hobbits and dwarfs clapping and whooping.

"Does Master Bilbo realize the meaning of the dance?" Fili wondered aloud.

"Kurduzbad enâd-nurt? Probably not. Unless Thorin told him." Bofur answered.

"I doubt that," Kili put in.

"What does it mean?" Frodo squeaked from below them.

"It means Thorin is quite fond of your uncle," Bofur said.

The nearest hobbit mother frowned.

"The Lord of the Heart dance. Meant for the love of the King on the love's birthday," Balin clarified.

"I can scarcely believe it." Dwalin shook his head. "After all this time, all of their courtship, he's telling him he loves him without actually telling him."

Fili snorted. "How does that surprise you?"

Across the crowd, the musicians finished their song with an excited flourish, but Thorin and Bilbo's dance ended in a much more subdued fashion, hands clasped and foreheads touching, both of them breathing heavily, a giant smile on either's lips.

Thorin broke away to kiss Bilbo's forehead gently. "I would have you know the true meaning of that dance, but I'm afraid I can't express it."

"I think I understand it."

Thorin chuckled. "Perhaps it is more easily understood than I imagine."

"Only to those who have felt it, I believe."

"And what is that feeling, Bilbo?"

Bilbo smiled and rested their foreheads together again. "I think you know, or you would not have taught me the dance in the first place."

"In the spirit of your birthday--and your nephew's--I should like to offer my apologies for the state of your pantry this morning."

"Changing the subject, are we?"

"No, I was just--"

"It's fine. I've come to expect it. And you always replace whatever disappears, so in the end I am very grateful for the company. I know that your company come with you, and I'm grateful for them to bring you safely to me when you journey from Erebor."

"I wish I could always be with you," Thorin muttered.

Bilbo frowned. "Perhaps someday Frodo and I will come to be with you in your kingdom."

"You could never leave the Shire for good," Thorin scoffed. "I would come to live with you here before you left your home."

"You would never abandon your people."

"Of course, not without a proper King to take my place."

Bilbo stared. "To take your place?"

"I would gladly give up my birthright to stand alongside you, ukrâduh."

"There's no need for that. Just wait. We will have our time together. Until then, we will enjoy what we have."

"Certainly. Happy birthday, âzyungel." Thorin once again pressed his lips to Bilbo's forehead. "Happy birthday."