This is perfection. Nothing Bilbo could ever hope for himself could equate to the way that this is happening. It's amazing, truly amazing, how deeply in love with him the dwarf could be. Bilbo's smile turns into a smirk, hidden still against the king's throat.

"If you braid my hair, that means your intentions are beyond courting me, Thorin Oakenshield. Is that what you want?"

He knows without being told how important this is. Thorin may assume that Gloin had been speaking about courtship with his wife. Perhaps Bofur spoke of the failed courtship he'd had just before coming to be part of the Erebor fellowship.

Smaug knows, however. The Ring knows. Both are so terribly pleased.

"Will I wear the beads of your house or will you have my own designed?" Dwarven marriages are strange things with many, many steps and many more customs than that.

Bilbo draws back now to gaze into Thorin's eyes as the dwarf softens within him.