[ Thorin sinks back onto the bench with a heavy sigh. He could say something about the fact that expecting everyone to make it through this journey alive was foolishness to begin with, but he doesn't actually want to destroy all sense of hope. They never would have made it this far without it.

It would be difficult to see the victory in it all if one had not seen the dragon burst forth from Erebor, never to return, or the piles of gold and treasure within the mountain itself. Bilbo has not yet seen the legions of orcs laid low by an army of dwarves, rallying to their king. Or the eagles, returning to pick off those tried to flee.

Bilbo may know what it is to have a home, but he couldn't be expected to fathom exactly how it felt for Thorin to reclaim his, after fighting so long and so hard, against all odds. When even his own people, save for twelve, would not follow him.

He regards Bilbo silently for a moment, solemnly, then he nods. ]

Aye. I will not abandon my home, my people, or my honor. Or my friends.

[ He slides off the bench and stands, tugging his armor and tunic back into place. ]

I tire of this filth. I've arranged for a room upstairs, which supposedly has an adequate bath.