Author's Note: Um…yeah…I have no idea where this came from. I just started writing and boom. There you go. I wanted to write a quick one shot in celebration of 100 Kudos for "A Dangerous Business" and my brain and fingers kind of took over. So…enjoy? (This has no connection to any previous story.)

The Hobbit Haven

"And stay out!"

Thorin and Dwalin watched as two burly, tough-looking Dwarves scurried past them. The King and his friend turned back to the pub in time to see a swirl of skirts as the owner marched back inside and slammed the door. Grins across both their faces.

"That little female you're so sweet on has some bite," Dwalin rumbled, amusement and approval rolling through his voice.

Thorin glared at him, but the look held no heat. How could he argue when his friend spoke nothing but the truth? Instead he began moving towards the pub. "Are we here to eat or not?"

"I'm here to eat," Dwalin corrected. "You're here to eat and scare the masses." Thorin opened his mouth to protest, but his friend help up a hand. "Don't try," he advised. "Anytime someone looks at her sideways you turn up that royal glare of yours until they go away. I don't know why you just don't offer her your bead and be done with it."

Unable to think of a good comeback to that, Thorin said nothing and walked into the warm interior of the pub.

The Hobbit Haven – simply as 'the Haven' – ruled as the most popular pub in the Blue Mountains. Founded by Bungo and Belladonna Baggins in 2913 according to general reckoning, the Haven boasted the best ale in all of Ered Luin. Meals could be had at most any time of the day as well – simple fare, but the homemade food was both filling and tasty. The interior of the place glowed as golden candlelight reflected off the gleaming wood paneling and furniture. This was no grungy, dim establishment as one might find in any settlement of Dwarf or Man. No, this was a Hobbit place – which meant a warm hearth, good food, and the comforts of home.

Something too many of the Dwarves of Ered Luin did not have.

The current owner, like her parents before her, stood on no ceremony. First come, first served had always been the rule of the Haven. Miners, nobles, shopkeepers, and bankers sat elbow to elbow without regard to clan or status. Only the Durins, Thorin and his kin, possessed a reserved table – for they had invested in the pub at the very beginning and they continued to hold a share in its profits.

Bungo and Belladonna came to the mountains after escaping the ravages of the Fell Winter of 2911-2912. The extreme cold had driven wolves and worse down from the north where they attacked the peace-loving Hobbits in a half-mad rage of hunger. Many Hobbits died and much of the Shire itself had been destroyed. Some Hobbits chose to flee rather than fight – particularly those with children. Ragged and half-starved, the Baggins' settled in and began to try to find a place for themselves in the mostly Dwarvish settlement. Both of them did odd jobs at the start, scrimping and saving every extra penny.

When Thorin heard their story and of the ravaging of the Shire, he stepped in to help them. He remembered that feeling of lass all too well, and he had taken oath with himself to never turn away from one who suffered such a fate. The Hobbits, proud as any Dwarf in their own way, refused his money at first, but he insisted, calling it an investment. After several long discussions, Bungo and Balin came to a mutual agreement and the idea of the Haven was born. Bungo and Thorin met a time or two to iron out a handful of details as well as getting to know one another. The Hobbit kept his family out of the general public until he himself felt comfortable being surrounded by so many Dwarves, but at long last he invited Thorin and his kinfolk to dinner in order to introduce the families to one another. Thorin accepted, curious to meet the family of his new business partner.

Belladonna Took-Baggins had been a warm, cheerful, gracious hostess, always checking on her guests and making sure they had everything they needed while managing to hold a spirited conversation on the trials and tribulations of motherhood with Thorin's sister Dís. Bungo himself kept Thorin and Balin occupied with various questions about the settlement and potential miscommunications which might arise between people.

Fíli and Kíli found more entertainment with Bilbo, son and eldest of the two Hobbit children. Although they seemed to be of an age, Bilbo possessed a great deal more maturity, being a 'tween' as the Hobbits called it while the Dwarves were still counted as children. Bilbo would be of age within a mere decade or so, but he handled the Dwarves with a more patience than Thorin had expected. He responded to the boys and their questions while managing to keep them out of too much trouble. Dís threatened to steal him away, but Belladonna just laughed and offered babysitting services as needed. "One more or less won't bother me," Bilbo assured the Dwarf princess, his eyes rolling over to where his younger sister sat talking to Dwalin as Thorin hovered nearby.

Little Bella Baggins cemented the links between Dwarves and Hobbits in a way no one could have predicted…especially not Thorin.

Meeting Bella shocked the exiled King to his core. The girl child tugged at his soul. Every fiber of his being focused on her when she ran into the room that evening. His senses flared in recognition as the pattern of his life scrambled and reoriented with her at its center. He froze in disbelief.

His One…this tiny slip of girl…and Mahal had gifted her as the other half of Thorin's soul.

Bungo Baggins had not been happy when first told of the situation. He fussed and fretted over the entire idea for a long while as Balin did his best to explain things. Thorin had tried, but an unhappy father intent on protecting his baby girl proved a difficult listener. Balin's calm demeanor soothed the Hobbit and they managed to come to an understanding. Bungo could not claim to be happy over the issue, but he felt comforted in the promise that Thorin would force nothing. Thorin gave him an oath to allow Bella to choose her own path in return for a promise not to take the girl away.

Then Dwalin pointed out that now Bella had a fully trained and armed Dwarf protector ready to step between her and any potential danger. Bungo had stopped in his tracks, eyeing the tall Dwarf. "There is that," he nodded, fingers tapping against one leg. "There is that."

With that, the topic seemed to be closed and the two families worked on getting to know one another better. Thorin became a welcome guest at the Baggins' home and pub while he also became the friend and protector of young Bella. Dís took Belladonna under her wing, introducing her to influential people throughout the area as well as helping her with the children's education. Dwalin accepted the responsibility of guarding both families – though they did not bother telling the Hobbits about that little fact – and could often be found near the pub during his free time. Balin too would drop in, happy to talk with both adults and overjoyed at the budding scholar in young Bilbo.

Time moved on and Thorin watched as Bella grew from a curious child into a mischievous tween. He bit his tongue more than once as he watched younger Dwarves flirt with her and draw her into various games or pursuits. Fortunately for his blood pressure, she never moved beyond a mild flirtation. She treated the boys with a reserved gentility, always holding them at one remove, and her gentle methods for turning aside their interest meant most of them remained admirers. Thorin breathed a sigh of relief each time, though he never spoke of it. He would hold to his oath and await her coming of age to even consider presenting his case.

Through all of this, the Haven began to find its place. Few people took much notice of it at first, but a small clientele began to make it a regular stop for a meal and a pint. Loyal customers meant a steadier source of income. The Baggins family began to pull themselves into the respectable merchant class one slow step after another.

Then Bungo grew ill and began wasting away.

Belladonna grew frantic as she faced the loss of her beloved. Soon she spent all of her time taking care of her husband and leaving the pub to her children. Bilbo managed the books, but the rest of it seemed ready to overwhelm him. Bella lifted her chin and told him to let her handle it.

And handle it she did.

She hired a cook named Bombur, giving him free reign of the kitchen in return for a promise to never give away the family recipes. Bombur's cousin Bifur came along with him and crafted toys as he sat in one corner of the pub. Patrons would eye him with caution as his mood swings could be erratic and unpredictable due to the axe in his head. Bella let him be, confident he would do her and her pub no harm. Bifur proved her right as he turned out to be a good deterrent against violence. Between his shouted Khuzdul and his sharp boar spear, the injured Dwarf kept the rowdies from becoming too uncivilized.

Bombur's brother, Bofur, became a regular patron. The miner brought a bright cheerful note to the pub and could be persuaded to offer a song in return for a pint of ale. Bella allowed it until things became too ribald at which point she threatened to ban him. She never did, but he would tone down the songs for a bit and the cycle would start all over again.

With Bofur singing the praises of the pub to all his fellow miners, the customer base expanded. Various merchants, nobles, and craftsmen took note of the increased profit as well as marking the close relationship between the family and the line of Durin. And so the pub grew and expanded in popularity.

All this as the families watched and fretted over Bungo…and Belladonna.

Thorin banked the fire, preparing to close the smithy for the day. He felt tired, tired of the constant battle within himself. Bella called to him, body, heart, and soul…and he yearned to answer. And yet… His mind reminded him of her youth, while his heart clenched, knowing that Bungo's time approached. When they lost Bungo, they might well lose Belladonna as well. He could not press his suit at such a time, not when she would be vulnerable and hurting from that kind of a loss. A sigh escaped him as he walked to the water bucket. He stripped off his work shirt and cast it to one side. Lifting the ladle, he poured water over his head. The cool rush of liquid over his face and bare shoulders felt so good after a long day at the forge.

"Thorin!"

He spun, eyes growing hard at the sound of desperation in Bella's voice. She all but flew into the room and into his arms, tears streaming down her face. His arms closed around her, the ladle dropping to the floor with a dull clang. "Bella, what's wrong?" he demanded in as soft a tone as he could manage. She just burrowed closer, quiet sobs shaking her shoulders.

Dwalin appeared in the doorway, his eyes dark and somber as they rested on the Hobbit maiden. Rather than speaking aloud, the tall Dwarf began to move his hands in iglishmêk. Father gone; mother not well.

Thorin closed his eyes in sorrow as he tightened his arms around Bella. A simple nod sent Dwalin back to the family as his king did his best to comfort the devastated female. "Bella," he whispered. "Ghivashel, I am so sorry." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"He's gone!" she wept. "He's gone and Mother's crying and Bilbo's…." Her voice trailed off as she tried to pull in breath around her own tears. "Everything's gone all wrong and I didn't know where else to go or…or…" She choked down a cry. "I'm sorry…"

"No," he said before pressing another kiss to her head. "Don't be sorry. You can always come to me. Always."

"I can't believe he's gone!"

As fresh tears began to fall, Thorin picked her up and strode into his office. He sat down in the chair and settled Bella on his lap, letting her cry into his shoulder. They remained there most of the day, emerging only when she felt ready to go back. He would never remember later what he said or whispered as he did his best to console her over the loss of her father, but it must have worked. She grew calmer, though her sorrow still etched deep into her eyes for many months afterwards.

Their fears over Belladonna proved accurate. She managed to hang on for eight years, a shadow of her vibrant self. Everyone knew she longed to follow her husband to the halls of Mandos, but she would not allow herself the luxury until Bella came of age and could inherit the pub without issue. Bilbo did not want it and his mother respected that wish.

Unlike Bungo's death, Belladonna's passing was almost a relief. She had been more of a ghost than a Hobbit during the last few years of her life and in one private moment, Bella confessed to Thorin: "I began to resent her I think. She wanted so badly to leave us, to rejoin father, and it made each day dreary. If it weren't for you and the others, I don't know how we would have managed."

Now, five years later, Thorin led Dwalin to the family table. The two males sat down, watching the ebb and flow of the pub as they waited for one of Bella's helpers to take their orders.

"Reminds me," Dwalin turned to Thorin. "Balin wants to make Bilbo an official scribe."

"He isn't already?" Thorin frowned. "Bilbo's been of age for several years now." The older of the two Baggins' children had begun working for Balin as soon as he could obtain permission. He felt no draw to the pub other than that of family responsibility and preferred to surround himself with books, paper, and quills. The Dwarves, understanding the burning need of the crafter, recommended he be apprenticed to Balin. "Why wait so long?"

"Language lessons," the warrior shrugged. "He couldn't officially be taught Khuzdul until he was of age, remember?"

"Never mind the fellow taught himself within ten years of moving here," Thorin huffed in amusement.

Dwalin nodded, but held off saying anything as a redheaded Broadbeam youngling appeared at the table to take their requests. "Ale and stew for me, lad."

"I'll have the same," Thorin nodded.

The youngster grinned. "Might want to order some pie while it's still here," he advised. "Miss Bella made apple today and they're going fast."

Kings and Guard traded glances. "Add the pie," Thorin agreed and the lad nodded before dashing off.

"He looked familiar," Dwalin commented. "Can't put my finger on it."

"One of Bombur's," Thorin replied. "He wants to run his own place one day, so Bella's letting him work for her to get a feel for it and to earn some extra coin."

"Lass is creating her own competition?"

"Don't be silly, Dwalin." Bella stepped up beside the table, smiling at the two males. "Oran will make an excellent pub owner one day, and it'll be up north among his mother's kin." She placed a hand on Thorin's shoulder. He suppressed the need to lean into her touch as he forced himself to focus on her words. "And how are my two favorite blacksmiths, hmm?"

"And what am I?" Bofur called out from across the almost empty room.

Bella laughed. "My favorite miner!" she called back.

"Ah, well, that'll do then!" He raised his mug in a toast and drained the entire thing in one gulp.

"He'll be singing on the tables before supper," she sighed. "Good thing he's got a bearable voice."

"Saw you had to toss a couple of fellows out," Dwalin told her. "What happened there?"

Loud grumbles in Khuzdul came from the nearby corner. Thorin's eyes flashed and Dwalin straightened. Bella gave another sigh. "Bifur! Quit getting them worked up!" Her hand slipped down to Thorin's arm as she smiled at Dwalin. "You can both calm down now," she ordered them. "Bifur and his cousins didn't let things get out of hand and those two won't dare to show their beards at the Haven." Dwalin lifted a brow. She shrugged. "Bombur threatened to sit on them while his wife shaved them bald if they tried that again."

The tension flowed out of Thorin's body, letting him relax under her touch.

"Course, the lass has got herself a couple of real suitors," Bofur chuckled. The miners around him joined in the laughter, tossing some teasing comments towards Bella as she rolled her eyes. Thorin did not laugh. His expression grew stony.

"Oh, hush up you lot!" She tossed a roll at Bofur, knocking his hat sideways.

"Miss Bella?" Bombur called out from the kitchen, sticking his head through the open doorway. "Your bread is ready!" Then he frowned at his brother. "And how many pints have you had anyway? Your tongue's moving faster than it should be already."

"Ah, leave off," Bofur waved as straightened himself up. "You know it's true! The lass would have the lads lined around the corner if she ever so much as gave a smile of interest."

Bella offered another smile to Thorin and Dwalin before heading into the kitchen. "I'm going to cut you off if you're not careful, Bofur!" she called back over her shoulder. "Besides," she stopped in the doorway and gave the room an arch look, "any true suitor must go through Bilbo and Balin first. Anyone who tries to go around them and come to me first isn't worth my time." She twirled through the door as the elders in the room nodded with approving smiles.

"Now that's a good girl."

"Excellent upbringing."

"Good breeding there. It always shows."

The voices of some of the Dwarf matrons filled the air for a few minutes, their approval keeping the miners from getting too rowdy. Three shopkeepers and one miner looked crestfallen and Thorin could feel his temper beginning to boil.

"Stop it." Dwalin kicked Thorin's ankle. "Either get your head on straight and go talk to her brother or leave be." Thorin frowned and his friend gave an impatient huff. "You're an idiot."

"So you've said," the Dwarf king muttered.

"Well?"

"Well what?" Thorin grumbled.

Dwalin cast his eyes towards the roof as if in prayer. "Are you going to talk to Bilbo or not?"

"Maybe."

A long suffering sigh answered him. "Definitely an idiot."

"And what do I have to offer her?" Thorin demanded. "A king in exile reduced to being a blacksmith for lesser men?"

Dwalin lowered his chin and stared at him. "Think she really cares about that?"

"I care!"

"So she gets no say?"

Thorin blinked at his friend's challenge. "What?"

"Maybe you should give her a choice," the tall guardsman offered, "instead of making all the decisions. Who knows? Maybe a blacksmith is what she wants."

The idea rolled around in Thorin's head. He'd spent so long watching over Bella, being her friend and treating her as an important part of his life. Had he stolen some of her choices from her? That had never been his intention.

Dwalin leaned forward. "Tell me the truth," he demanded in a soft voice. "Is anyone else ever going to be as concerned for her happiness and her safety as you? Will anybody put as much emphasis on her freedom?" He shifted, looking uncomfortable, but then he seemed to steel himself to ask one more question. "Will anyone ever love her like you do?"

"No." Thorin's answer came swift and hard.

"There you go then."

Thorin reached a shaking hand for his mug and drained the pint. He pushed himself up and began to walk away.

"Where are you going?" Dwalin asked, though a knowing smile hovered around the edges of his mouth.

"To find Bilbo."

"Good." Satisfaction oozed from his friend's voice. "Try the library. I think Balin is working with him today."

Thorin gave a single nod before he strode out of the pub. He stopped and glanced back, his heart warming at the golden glow pouring through the windows. Dwalin was right; Thorin owed Bella the truth, the full truth. If she did not want him, then he would honor her choice. But if she did…

If she did…

He shook his head. First things first – he needed to speak with Bilbo. Then they would see what the future might hold. Hope burned bright in his soul as he made his way deeper into the city even as his heart pulled him back towards the pub.

The Hobbit Haven…

A haven for the heart of King.