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Thorin Oakenshield was not entirely sure why he let Bilbo Baggins join them on the journey to the Erebor.
Maybe it was the hobbit's unwavering dedication to help them reclaim their home, maybe it was his absurd stubbornness, or maybe it was the way Thorin's chest fluttered like he'd swallowed a bee when he first laid eyes on the hobbit. He couldn't explain it, but watching the hobbit fidget with his hands whenever he got nervous while his soft, brunette curls fell into his face... it made Thorin experience a very intense emotion that he couldn't name.
Now, Thorin sat by the campfire they had made, staring into the flames that lazily lapped at the night sky. Mostly everyone had fallen asleep, but Thorin, plagued with anxiety about reclaiming Erebor and becoming king, found himself restless. It was a scary thought, and he was more threatened by the idea of becoming goldmad like his grandfather than he let on, even if he insisted he was nothing like him.
He perked up as he heard a shuffle behind him. He whipped his head around, a hand on Orcrist, only to reveal it was just Bilbo. Thorin's breath shook for a second, then steadied at the Hobbit's shy smile. It was a face he wish he could bottle up and keep forever, to look at whenever he was troubled.
"May I sit?" Bilbo asked, voice quiet as not to disturb the others. Thorin glanced up, studying his face. He'd much rather be alone with his thoughts, but the thought of rejecting Bilbo pained him. After all, he had already been awfully unkind to him up until Goblin-town. So, after a pause that made Bilbo reconsider even asking, he slowly nodded. "Go ahead." Bilbo let out a shaky breath, quietly sitting down next to him.
After a few beats, Thorin could see Bilbo lean over slightly to study Thorin's face. He could tell dwarf had something unpleasant on his mind. "Penny for your thoughts?" The hobbit pried curiously. Now, Thorin COULD just say all was well, he was alright, and that would be that. It was probably the easier option, but Thorin figured Bilbo deserved to know the truth.
Also, the hobbit was certainly too sharp to fall for that, and he'd know if Thorin was lying.
"I fear for what will happen.. when we reach the mountain." Thorin admitted, a flush rising to his cheeks. He wasn't very good at explaining his emotions.
Bilbo perked up, not really expecting an answer from him.
"Or, more... I do not know what will happen. That is what I fear." Thorin confirmed, scurrying for words to explain how he felt.
Bilbo smiled slightly at that. "Well, no one knows, Thorin. Not even Gandalf. Not unless you can see into the future." He scooted closer slightly.
"I SHOULD know." Thorin huffed. "I am supposed to be their king. I am supposed to have everything under control. And if I do not, what kind of king am I?"
Bilbo furrowed his brows. "Oh, Thorin." The corners of his lips upturned. "You're too harsh on yourself."
"You're much more than just a king. Right now, you're Thorin. And Thorin is allowed to take off his crown sometimes, isn't he?"
"That wouldn't make you any less of a beautiful soul, right?"
Thorin blinked, an unfamiliar lump in his throat suddenly appearing. He glanced towards the hobbit, watching the flames warmly illuminate his features.
There was that strange flutter in his stomach again. His face went red, then hot, then wet at his eyes.
Oh no.
Thorin Oakenshield was in love.
With Bilbo Baggins.