A/N: Written for a prompt on the Thilbo prompt blog on tumblr: "Thorin's beard gets super long, and Bilbo loves it."

Please excuse the god-awful pun! I hope you enjoy.

I

In the warmth of Thorin's arms, Bilbo snuggled closer to the dwarf's chest to further escape the chill of the mountain air. The dwarf was asleep and Bilbo very nearly so; he was only half conscious when something began tickling his ear. He wriggled slightly closer to Thorin to try and get away from it, but it only increased in its tickling and started fluttering across Bilbo's face as well, making him want to sneeze.

Thoroughly woken up now, he tried to find the source of the tickling. Thorin shifted as he felt Bilbo wriggling in his arms and - there it was again!

Bilbo grabbed at it where it was attacking him and brought it in front of him to see, and was met with a very familiar sight. Long strands of soft hair, peppered with grey from long years of hardship but no less beautiful to Bilbo because of it. Thorin's beard. Bilbo huffed.

Thorin groaned and opened his eyes. 'What are you doing, Bilbo? It's late..' His voice was thick with sleep and even deeper than usual and it made Bilbo shiver with delight.

'It's your beard,' Bilbo whispered back. 'It tickles.'

Thorin made a rumbling sound and threw it over his shoulder, then tightened his grip on Bilbo drawing him close to his chest again and falling asleep straight away, his nose buried in Bilbo's curls. Bilbo huffed a little but was soon asleep himself, although for a while afterwards his fingers fidgeted as they itched to comb through Thorin's beard again.

II

The next morning Thorin was already up when Bilbo woke, shifting in the large bed. The door to the bathroom opened and Thorin walked through, mostly dressed with hair still damp and fluffing around his face.

He walked over to Bilbo when he saw he was awake and began kissing him, peppering soft kisses to his face and neck, making Bilbo squirm. 'You're finally awake,' Thorin said, lightly teasing, and Bilbo flicked his ear gently.

'It's not my fault I was kept awake by your beard attacking me,' Bilbo replied, sitting up so he could look at Thorin properly.

His beard really was long, reaching below his waist and down to his navel. It had grown such a lot in the months since they'd reclaimed Erebor. Currently it was straggly and still damp, and Bilbo began to comb his fingers through it, untangling it.

Thorin had stilled and closed his eyes at the feeling of Bilbo's fingers carding through it, and Bilbo pecked his nose, making him open his eyes and Bilbo grinned at him fondly.

'Can I braid it today?' he asked. He'd been practicing so that he could braid Thorin's hair and not make him look like a fool, which although Thorin stoically denied it and claimed it was the best braid he'd ever had, Bilbo knew the first time he had braided Thorin's beard it had been a disaster. But the dwarf was too kind to admit to that.

In answer, Thorin handed Bilbo a small comb and a set of silver beads, and Bilbo began to plait the soft, soft hair.

III

It was breakfast and they sat with the Company and Dís, enjoying this meal altogether before Thorin went to attend to his kingly duties.

Everyone had noticed the braid that now adorned Thorin's beard and the dwarf had proudly told them that Bilbo had done it himself, and Bilbo flushed under their praise. Although it was a rather nice braid, if he said so himself.

Thorin made to start eating and Bilbo followed suit, placing a napkin over his lap to protect his clothes. But then he froze.

'Stop! Thorin, stop!'

Everyone in the room stopped still, staring at him slightly disconcerted. Thorin looked worried.

'Are you alright, my love?' he asked softly, putting down his fork.

'Yes, I'm perfectly fine, but your beard soon won't be!' Bilbo replied hotly. He picked up Thorin's napkin, lying ignored on the table next to him, and tucked it into Thorin's shirt so that it covered the parts of his beard lower than his neck. He saw the dwarf flush, but he pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

'You have to look after it,' he said as he settled back down. 'And I don't want foody kisses, thank you very much.'

Thorin looked unimpressed. 'Bilbo, in a hundred and ninety-five years, I've never once spilt food in my beard-'

'That's because it didn't grow in until he was eighty,' Dís interrupted laughing, and Thorin scowled. Bilbo just grinned and held Thorin's hand until grumblingly, the dwarf accepted his lot and began to eat, his nice soft and very long beard protected by the napkin.

IV

Bilbo sat with Thorin in the diplomatic meeting, listening to the new Master of Laketown's advisor drone on and on about something or other. Bard was there as representative for Dale and he too looked bored.

Then Thranduil's advisor stood and began talking, making his points in a decidedly undiplomatic manner. Bilbo felt Thorin tense up beside him and he reached for Thorin's hand, a reassuring grip to remind him to stay calm.

But as his hand found Thorin's, it also brushed a wisp of his beard. Bilbo didn't mean to, it was just so tempting...

He began to surreptitiously stroke it, gentle fingers lightly stroking the very ends. He saw Thorin's lips quirk up in a smile before he resumed his 'king' face, and he relaxed again. Bilbo smiled to himself as he tugged lightly at it, making Thorin twitch as his beard was so thoroughly attended to.

V

That night, Bilbo was already in bed and he watched Thorin as the dwarf undressed, shedding his royal velvets and furs as he changed into his night shirt. Bilbo smiled as Thorin turned to him and made for the bed, climbing under the covers and immediately pulling Bilbo nestled closer to his dwarf, enjoying the feel of such strong arms around him and the warmth the dwarf emanated constantly.

As he lay warm and content in Thorin's arms, feeling his soft gaze upon him, his hands unconsciously found Thorin's beard again and began combing it.

'You really like my beard,' Thorin said. He sounded almost disbelieving.

'Of course I do. And it's so long now...'

'That generally happens when you don't cut it,' Thorin teased. Bilbo went for his favourite punishment of lightly flicking Thorin's ear, before pressing a kiss there.

'I don't want you to ever cut it again.'

'Not ever?'

'No. I want to have a beard blanket when I go to sleep,' Bilbo said, pulling Thorin's beard up so that it covered his shoulder. He looked up at Thorin and smiled, laughing as Thorin leant down to nuzzle at Bilbo's neck, his beard tickling the soft skin.

'I love you, Bilbo,' he said, his voice muffled.

'I love you too, Thorin,' Bilbo murmured as the warmth and happiness lulled him to sleep. 'And you know I'd love you just as much...' he yawned, '...even without a beard, don't you?'

He felt rather than heard Thorin's rumble of contented assent before he fell asleep, Thorin's soft beard still draped over his shoulders.

Finis