Bilbo stared after Thorin in shock, he had barely managed to get his dwarven style trousers on when his king had walked back over to him. He stood still while Thorin braided his hair and as happy as he was for the tender contact before they parted, Bilbo couldn't stop his shoulders from slumping. He sighed heavily and finished getting dressed, mildly surprised that it was less complicated than he had expected. About the time he had finished getting ready there was another knock on the door, the guard announced that Balin, the king's adviser, was there to guide him about the day. As Thorin's consort, Bilbo had his own set of duties waiting for him. Some with Thorin and some, unfortunately, without. Begrudgingly following Balin from the comforts of their rooms, Bilbo was decidedly much more pleasant to the aging dwarf this meeting. As much as he would rather be wrapped in his king's arms, Bilbo knew there had to be a negative side to such a wonderful arrangement.
When Bilbo was finally allowed to return to their rooms that evening, his head was spinning. He had spent the entire day getting a tour of Erebor and he had been introduced to more dwarf nobles than he cared to even attempt to remember. As soon as the door closed behind him, Bilbo had his boots off, (rather silly things for a Hobbit to wear but Balin had insisted) and his cloak was carelessly draped over an arm chair. Bilbo promptly fell face first into the mountain of furs covering the bed and let out an exhausted sigh into his king's pillow.