Surprises

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"You enjoy acting all mysterious and broody, don't you?"

The past few weeks had been extremely hectic in the mountain. One of the miners in Bofur's crew had uncovered two dozen more precious metal mines that Thorin and his council had believed were fully collapsed after Smaug's rampage. But as it turned out, all of them were still in working order and a short excavation period around the primary and side entrances was all they needed to do before mining could resume in them again. Most of the Company had been extremely busy as a direct result of this, so Bilbo had seen little of Thorin, the princes, and everyone else in recent weeks. Ori, Dhola, the children, and an unruly bunch of baby animals had been Bilbo's main source of company during the daytime hours, a fact that he'd lamented about to Thorin last night.

"And you're a nosy hobbit who can't keep questions to himself," replied the King. His hands were gently guiding Bilbo down a series of tunnels that branched off of the side corridors in the royal wing. "Now close your eyes and stop pestering me for information. I won't be giving in so easily on this."

"I can certainly see that," said Bilbo.

"Someone's feeling quite sassy today," chuckled Thorin. "Does my brooding and mysterious presence bring out such tantalizing feistiness often, Master Baggins? Or have you been hiding it from me all along?"

"I think you're underestimating the large number of times I've told you off during the last few years," snickered the hobbit. "But if you purposely let me run into a wall or a door, I can guarantee that my so-called sassiness will result in several days of indigestion, unpleasant bowel movements, and stinky gas for you, Master Dwarf. We hobbits aren't as naïve as everyone thinks we are, I can assure you."

"Oh, I'm betting on it," rumbled the dwarf.

"Thorin! Behave yourself," snapped Bilbo when he felt a hand drifting a little too low on his backside. "We're still out in public, you perverse dwarf. Anybody could walk by and see you groping me."

"Do not fret, my dear hobbit. These tunnels are still sectioned off from the rest of the city," assured the King. "The royal wing's entrance is the only one that didn't collapse during Smaug's charge through the middle levels. We will be the only ones wandering in, out, or near these tunnels for some months to come, so there's no reason to worry about a stranger seeing us."

"And the boys?"

"They shouldn't be...well, okay, maybe they're always a problem," admitted the King with a loud sigh. "But they know better than to become too overbearing. I'd assign them to outside duty if they decide to push me too far."

"No, you wouldn't."

Thorin's fingers tightened on his shoulder. "Oh, really? And you know this how?"

"I have to live with those rascals," said Bilbo, "And the last thing anyone needs is for one of them to come down with a nasty cold. Fíli's thigh wound is almost healed, and Kíli's bruising from last week's cave-in doesn't look quite so hideous anymore. But, if an unnecessary round of outdoor guard duty results in more whining and complaining from a certain set of boys who shall not be named, then I won't be responsible for the abrupt lack of royal heirs to Erebor's throne."

"You spoil them."

"By refusing to throw rocks at their heads or toss them outside into the snow when they've behaved like a bunch of short-sighted nincompoops? If that's the case, then yes, I spoil them rotten."

"They have to be prepared to govern Erebor when the time—"

"Are you planning to die sometime soon? Because if you are, then I'd really like to know about it. I don't know if I want to be married to a death-seeker. I prefer my spouse alive and somewhat healthy, for obvious reasons."

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