Notes: Definitely not written for Undomiel_48, because she's the meanie who put this idea into my head. MEH!

Songfic based on the beautiful Far Away by Nickelback.

Notes the second: I know that Barliman Butterbur doesn't even live at this point. But maybe some of his absent mindedness is hereditary and he got it from his grandfather? ;)

And finally, notes the third: I do apologise for the general sappiness of this story, but I blame it on the song (which I had playing the entire time while writing)...so um...sorry? :P

It was two years after the Battle of the Five Armies, two years after they had reclaimed their mountain and re-established the kingdom of Erebor. Thorin should be happy, he knew. Only, he wasn't. And it was becoming increasingly difficult to pretend he didn't know why.

Fíli and Kíli didn't help. They had been asking for permission to leave to go "visit some friends in the west" and Thorin knew that a simple "No!" wouldn't keep them put for long.

Dís didn't help either. Ever since she finally reached Erebor she would drill him with questions about his hobbit, and what in Durin's name had possessed him to banish the hobbit. And no, stealing the Arkenstone and siding with his then-enemies now tentative-allies wasn't a good enough reason. Not by a long shot. 'Why oh why was she the only one of the three siblings with any brains? She would have never let someone as precious as Bilbo leave. Nor would she have been stupid enough to keep this ridiculous banishment in place.' Well, alright, maybe that had been somewhat stupid, but Bilbo had disappeared so soon after the battle...as soon as he knew that all the Company were alive and on the mend and Thorin...

He had longed to see his burglar again, to make amends, to beg Bilbo for forgiveness...if necessary. He was King after all and had to keep up some semblance of decorum. But maybe he could have...sent for the hobbit. He had considered it, right after the battle, but had decided against it. He had no right to ask anything of Bilbo...not after how disgraceful he had behaved. He had come so close to killing his burglar and only afterwards did he realise that Bilbo had tried to do the right thing, to prevent the bloodshed... How could he ever make amends for that?

The sky was grey as he stepped out on the battlements that morning and it was as if the years that had passed had been wiped away and... He could feel his hands closing around Bilbo's throat again, could see the panic in the halfling's grey eyes; the hurt, the loss and the heartbreak. "Are ye alright, Thorin?" Dwalin's voice snapped him out of the visions and the king tried to compose himself. "Ye know, the lads and I think it's high time for ye to...stretch yer legs some. Take a well-earned break and let my brother worry for a bit about the Kingdom. Maybe he'll shrink some more in the process..." Dwalin chuckled at that, but Thorin eyed him suspiciously. "Oh come on! I've known ye since we were both wee lads. Ye miss him, and don't ye even try to deny it! We're going to get him back and that's final." And when Dwalin, son of Fundin, ended a conversation with those words, then it was indeed the final word.

So it was that on a spring morning four dwarves left the Halls of Erebor to venture west. King Thorin Oakenshield was flanked by his nephews while the captain of the King's Guard rode ahead to scout the way.

Reaching Rivendell was...interesting. The elves had of course known they were coming. And Elrond himself greeted them with a smile and a bow and a soft greeting of "Mae govannen, Thorin Oakenshield. I am pleased that you have achieved what you set out to do." And when Thorin responded in kind...without the Elvish phrase that was, no self-respecting dwarf would go near that tongue even if he was promised all the riches in the world...they were led to a much nicer meal than previously. Apparently elves did know about meat, they just preferred to not share it with people who insulted them.

"Don't tell Ori," Dwalin muttered whilst chewing on the roasted pheasant. "The poor lad still has nightmares of green food. And ye are the witness of this feast, so ye can tell my brother to pay up." Evidently some bets had been placed, one of which concerning the welcome they would receive at the Last Homely House. Thorin didn't want to know what else his so-called friends had bet on. Though if it involved himself and his hobbit...

His hobbit. He would gladly lay down his life for just one look at Bilbo, to feel his burglar against him one last time. To tell him that the words Thorin had spoken in Esgaroth had been true and that anything after... To tell Bilbo that...

When he had first found out that Bilbo was gone, Thorin thought Kíli was simply playing a very cruel trick on him. But when it was confirmed by Balin and Bofur... During the days he could busy himself with the rebuild of Erebor but at night... At night when the walls of his quarters seemed to close in on him there was no running away from his feelings. And in his dreams, the hobbit was there by his side, holding him...loving him. And each morning his heart broke anew when he found his arms empty and devoid of an auburn-haired hobbit.

And that night in Rivendell, Thorin realised what all those around him must have known for a long time, or else they might have never pushed him back onto the road...without Bilbo, life was empty. And slowly but surely the emptiness was swallowing what was left of Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain. The distance was too great and it had been far too long and his bleeding heart was about to give out. He had been foolish enough to think he could mask it, not just from his subjects but from himself as well. Now, for the first time, he admitted to himself just how much he missed Bilbo Baggins, who had seemed more grocer than burglar when they had first met. How wrong he had been...

Bree would be the last stop before they reached the Shire and Hobbiton, and Master Butterbur was still as absent minded as he had appeared two years before when Thorin had met up with Gandalf at the Prancing Pony. "Dwarves? And going to the Shire, you say? Why you must be mistaken. All dwarves are going east these days. Apparently that King Thorin has reclaimed some mountain and they're now all flocking there... Are you sure you want to go to the Shire?" Dwalin had given his axes a look or two at that point and Thorin had ushered his travelling companions to their rooms. There would be no bloodshed, not on this journey!

So close to their destination, it was impossible for Thorin not to think of what could happen once they reached Bag End.. Bilbo could simply slam his door in their faces, not wanting anything to do with them anymore. That was unlikely, though. At least Fíli, Kíli and Dwalin would receive a warm welcome. But what about him? Thorin was half-prepared for rejection. He deserved it, and more. But he would ask...beg for a chance to at least explain. How much Thorin regretted his actions, how important Bilbo had been to the Company, and to Thorin. How important he was, still. And that the dwarven king would do anything, anything at all to gain Bilbo's forgiveness, to maybe regain his trust and...

Maybe he would be able to somehow show Bilbo that whatever Thorin had achieved it was mainly due to the hobbit...that Bilbo had given Thorin the strength to go on after they encountered Azog after fleeing Goblin-town. That without Bilbo's love, the dwarf wouldn't have been able to see their quest through to the end. That Thorin would give it all up for a chance to have that love again.

Sleep would not come easily that night, and as Thorin lay awake he thought of his ancestors, thought of their Maker, asking them for the courage to face his burglar. And he swore by Aulë that he wouldn't give up, if there was but a sliver of hope, he would fight. Not like he had fought to regain his homeland, no. He would fight for his very existence, for he needed Bilbo to be...whole again.

"Has it really been this far before as well? I'm tired and hungry and..." Kíli was complaining like a small dwarfling, but Thorin could tell that it was all just a show to prevent him from thinking... They had reached Hobbiton the morning of the third day after leaving Bree and were now slowly trotting up the Hill. Soon, very soon they would see Bag End itself and part of him wanted to turn his pony around and make a run for it. But not only would he shame himself in front of his nephews and best friend beyond redemption, he also wouldn't let this chance, this last chance at happiness pass him by. It had been far too long since he had felt warm inside, and he needed...

The green door came into sight and as his three companions spurred their ponies onwards, Thorin fell back. They had spoken of this. He would remain out of sight at first, to see how Bilbo reacted to the other dwarves, to maybe gauge how the hobbit would behave when he beheld Thorin himself. It was Kíli who rang the doorbell excitedly, of course it was. His younger nephew had been talking of nothing else but wanting to hug Bilbo for the past two weeks. And then the door opened, and Thorin could hear the gasp...Bilbo's gasp. "Kíli, Fíli? And Dwalin too? It is so good to see you again, my friends."

"Master Boggins!" Kíli giggled before pulling the hobbit into an almost suffocating hug. "Missed you so much, Bilbo. So much." And Thorin's heart broke for his nephew. This was his doing as well. He had not only deprived himself of the hobbit's company, but everyone else as well.

"Come in, come in...I have just finished some scones, and I know at least one of you three loves my scones..." That was addressed at Dwalin who simply chuckled. "It is so good to see you. How...how long can you stay? I don't believe Thorin would let you leave indefinitely..."

"He didn't, Bilbo," came Fíli's soft voice. "Let us leave that is..." He moved back a few steps, pulling the startled hobbit with him.

Their eyes met. Only for a moment, a mere second, but Thorin knew...he saw... Bilbo's hand went to his throat as he took a few unsteady steps toward the dwarf king. And then he stood in front of Thorin, looking anywhere but at the dwarf, and Thorin had to fight the urge to reach out and touch his hobbit. And after what seemed like hours, but probably was little more than a minute, Bilbo took hold of Thorin's hand and led him further up the Hill and to a bench that was overlooking Hobbiton and the Water.

There they sat for a while in silence, until Thorin spoke, "There is much I wish to say to you, but I don't quite know where to begin..." Only Bilbo had ever managed to reduce him to this. He was babbling like a youngling. Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself to his feet and unsheathed Orcrist. He placed the blade into Bilbo's hands before kneeling in front of the somewhat alarmed hobbit. "I have wronged you in more ways than anyone else in my life. I have called you a traitor and banned you from my sight when all you did was look out for us...when we were too blind to do it ourselves. I have repaid loyalty and honour with cruelty and murderous intent. And I have thrown away the one thing that made my life meaningful...your love. I lay my life in your hands, Bilbo Baggins, and if you should wish it, it is yours for the taking."

He didn't dare raise his eyes to face the hobbit, didn't dare to hope... Orcrist clattered to the ground a moment before Bilbo threw his arms around Thorin, tears streaming down the hobbit's face. "I've waited so...so long to hear you say that." The dwarf released the breath he hadn't even known he was holding and pulled the precious creature closer, burying his face in those unruly curls. How he had missed this, simply holding Bilbo was sheer bliss after the years they had spent apart. "I...I missed you," the hobbit whispered into Thorin's chest, "And don't even jest about laying your life in my hands, I could never..."

He gently untangled himself from Bilbo's embrace, holding the hobbit's hands in his left while he brushed Bilbo's tears away with his right. "And yet it is yours...if you will have me. If you can forgive me for how I acted..."

"I will not deny that you hurt me...in more ways than one. But it hurt even more to turn my back on Erebor, on you." Bilbo bit his lower lip as if trying to figure out what to say next. "I... This is no longer my home, the Shire that is. I long to see Esgaroth again, and Dale, and..." And then the hobbit decided that words were not adequate to convey what he wanted to express. So he leaned in and softly brushed his lips over Thorin's...

An hour or two later Thorin was tenderly running his fingers through the auburn curls he had missed so much. Bilbo's head rested on the dwarf's chest and the hobbit was tracing Thorin's jaw line with his fingertips. "We are lucky no one ever comes here, or I might have died of embarrassment." Bilbo chuckled and placed a tender kiss right over Thorin's heart. "Then again, it's not like I will be staying around for much longer... That is, if the banishment is lifted..." He raised an eyebrow at the dwarf before bursting into laughter. "The look on your face is priceless, Master Oakenshield."

"Not nearly as priceless as yours when you whisper my name in the throes of passion." As expected, Bilbo blushed from head to toe at that, and Thorin pulled him closer yet, kissing the hobbit's forehead. "And of course you are no longer banished. Or have you ever heard of a king who banishes his consort?" At that, Bilbo's eyes sparkled with love and joy and he sprang to his feet, pulling Thorin up to stand as well.

---

It was exactly three years after they had first met that Thorin placed a courting braid into his hobbit's hair. And one year later, there was much cheer throughout the Kingdom of Erebor for it was the wedding day of King Thorin II. And if anyone thought it somewhat strange that his chosen mate was a hobbit of the Shire, no one voiced these notions. Not with the captain of the King's Guard breathing down everyone's neck.

When years later Gandalf the Grey realised that Bilbo's magic ring was more sinister than they had thought, a new Company of dwarves, elves and men was formed, and the One Ring was destroyed in the fiery chasms where it had once been created. And during the celebrations, Bilbo whispered to his husband, "Never let me go..." And Thorin wouldn't... He hadn't at the Cracks of Doom, and he never would...