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Bilbo’s eyes snapped open as he jerked to sudden, untenable wakefulness.
The room was silent save for the deep purring snores of the dwarf at his side, but he could still feel it, waiting, waiting for him to relax and close his eyes once more.
Waiting to pounce.
Nearly frantic he rolled, poking at the dwarf beside him sharply. “Thorin!” he hissed, half whisper, half plea “Thorin wake up!”
With a grunt and a mutter the dwarf rose half off the bed, sharp eyes scanning the room for any threat or unknown danger. “Bwahh.” He said, clever in his mostly still asleep state.
Bilbo huddled close against him. “I had a nightmare!”
Thorin blinked, relaxed, and lay back against the pillows, eyes closing again. “A nightmare?” he muttered incredulously, earning himself another sharp poke in the side.
“Yes! A nightmare! And she’s still there!”
“She?”
“The witch! She’s going to cut of my toes with the gardening shears!”
“Mmmph…. Yer toes?”
“Yes! My toes! With the shears YOU made me!”
“Mmmm… g’back t’sleep.”
“Thorin you have to do something!”
At the continued poking the dwarf heaved himself over onto his side, one heavy arm flopping around his smaller companion, effectively pinning Bilbo to the bed half under him, nearly completely covered in the hairy, muscular bulk of his far larger bedmate.
“Go. To Sleep.”
With a huff Bilbo decided that at least the witch would have to go through Thorin first, which would probably be fine since he obviously didn’t seem bothered by the idea of having his toes sheared off, and forced himself to relax. With the weight of the dwarf pinning him down there were few other options for him anyways.