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By a curse or a blessing from the Valar, Bilbo finds himself repeating the same horrific day of war outside of Erebor again and again. His repeats are always triggered when someone from the company falls. He suffers days and days on his own before the others begin to repeat the day with him.
One would think that with the whole company, an elf king, and a bowman all knowing what was to come, Bilbo would have an easier time getting them all through the day alive.
One would think that, wouldn't they.
Bilbo didn’t mean to do this. Well, of course he didn’t. This isn’t his fault. One moment he was sitting in front of the fire where they were camped in the forest at the edge of The Lonely Mountain, clicking his tongue at Fili and Kili chucking bits of bread at Balin, the next they were under attack. It all happened so fast, Azog and his Orcs embarking on a brutal slaughter before they had the chance to raise a sword in defence, and Bilbo somehow managed to claw his way through the forest and to the foot of the Lonely Mountain where he comes face-to-face with… Thorin… who Bilbo was certain just had his head chopped off a moment ago. To make matters worse, he doesn’t seem to recognise him. And Erebor is… well, not a charred and blackened empty tomb inhabited by a dragon. And yeah, Bilbo’s fairly certain this isn’t going to end well.
Courting one's Beloved is a difficult enough process at the best of times, with complex customs and many steps to remember. For Thorin Oakenshield, it's a whole lot more complicated than that. For a start, his Beloved is a hobbit who has absolutely no idea that he even is Thorin's Beloved, let alone the steps of courtship. Secondly, Thorin may or may not be completely invisible to said hobbit, for reasons only the Maker knows. As Thorin is swiftly learning, Mahal has ever laughed upon his sons of the Line of Durin.
Bilbo Baggins has been plagued with dreams for some months, always filled with the same stranger: big hands, strong arms, dark hair. It seems a mystery until he figures that it is a Dwarf, though this only narrows down his search to every Dwarf in Erebor. When he overhears mention of a special party in the Mountain, he wishes briefly that he can attend. But that's ridiculous. He's a Hobbit, not a Dwarf. Turns out that's not a problem when magic is involved.
Erebor holds a masquerade ball. Another thinly veiled attempt by Dis to get him to find his One. Despite her good intentions, Thorin sees this as a pointless endeavor. He has no One. Little does he know that things have been put in motion far beyond his understanding that may lead to this being the most memorable masquerade ball of his life.
Thorin Oakenshield is the crown prince of one of the strongest kingdoms in Middle-earth, but over the last year, the kingdom has struggled to maintain its position among the ruling powers of Middle-earth. Erebor was held under vicious siege by the dragon Smaug, who terrorised the land and wiped out the nearby human settlement of Dale. The hardship forces Erebor into a difficult position, creating no other choice but for King Thror to seek alliances with other kingdoms and races through the bonds of marriage. Will Thorin see this as his duty to his kingdom, or take another path entirely?
Dwalin is picked by the Valar to change how things went. All Dwalin wants his to be with his family.
Post-BotFA, while Thorin, Fili, and Kili are slowly recovering from their wounds, Bilbo finds himself subject to a condition that hobbits might experience at a few very particular times in their lives, under very particular circumstances, none of which apply to him. Very confused (and somewhat embarrassed) he decides to keep it a secret during this delicate time in the mountain. This goes about as well as you might expect.
In search for a late-night drink, Thorin accidentally stumbles upon a truth potion.
Up on Ravenhill, Bilbo wakes a little earlier. It allows him to save Thorin's life, and almost—almost—costs him his own; which, as far as Bilbo is concerned, is a worthy exchange, no matter Thorin's own thoughts on the matter.
If only the aftermath, and all that still stands between them, would be so clean-cut and easy to resolve.