The Hobbit and LOTR Oneshots :)

I Promise. Thorin×Bilbo

The Lonely Mountain was a great god the looked over the land. This god still stood after fighting a beast with fire in it's throat. This god still fought through a war against creatures too vile to be seen in the sun. The god's brother, Moria, was now at war with vile creatures who never knew when to stop.

"The orcs have the great hall, sire. It is unwise to attack through there. However, if we sneak around to the throne room, we'll have better fighting ground."

"What about the private chamber off of the great hall? There is a secret passage that leads to there from the weapon room."

"We can send more spies to get a better idea of where they stand, but it could be a suicide mission."

"Sire! An urgent message!"

"Yes, what is it?"

"Dain's people found a room filled with bound and chained prisoners. Most of them were dwarves, but some were hobbits."

"So we have started to find them. Send only a few spies up the passage. Dwalin can show them where it starts. Tell them that if there is even an orc weapon in the private chamber, they should get out as quickly as possible.

"Get the dwarves food and rest, then tell them to bear up arms if able. Get the hobbits as far away from the fighting as possible and get them whatever is needed. If any are strong enough and up to it, get them to tell as much as possible of where the others could be."

Everyone cleared out, going off to finish tasks and send men off. The king, the king just below the god, was left alone.

Well, alone except for one.

"Thorin, you are going to kill yourself before you see battle," Bilbo murmured, walking from his corner to in front of the makeshift throne the king sat on. "Please, let me get you some food."

"I'm not hungry."

The hobbit rolled his eyes and did what few dared do. He swiftly walked up the three steps the held the small chair pulled from the wreckage the held the king. He knelt down and stared directly into his eyes. His blue, tired eyes.

"I am grateful that you have taken this up and have agreed to help us when others would not, but it won't help if you die before we accomplish what is needed."

"I swore I wouldn't rest until the hobbits that were stolen are returned to their homes."

"And I swore that I would help where ever I could. I'm trying to help now. If you move from that spot and disappear to secretly talk with your advisors, I will force food down your throat."

He left, leaving Thorin to his thoughts, his wicked thoughts that he hated so much.

"You treacherous little burglar!" His hands worked against him, lifting his friend by the neck and holding him over the ramparts.

The fear in Bilbo's eyes. The fear that would never disappear from his eyes, no matter how many good years were put between them and that moment.

The only thing the sickness was afraid of was something that could be more powerful. A wizard was a perfect example. It was because of him Bilbo now walks free.

But the betrayal that lingered. In his burglar, in his friends, in himself. The betrayal that fought the sickness and held it off long enough to lead his people into battle.

"Thorin. Thorin!"

He was snapped out of his thoughts. Bilbo stood in front of him, a small chunk of bread and an apple in his hands.

"Eat," he commanded. He stood over him, arms crossed, making sure he ate.

"You can be very intimidating when you want to be," Thorin remarked.