Chapter Text
Bilbo hadn’t spent too much time in the presence of the entire royal family, but he found himself sitting between Thorin and Frerin the morning after he and Thorin had come back. Thráin sat at the head of the table, with Lady Fris to his left, Thorin to his right. Dís sat across from her brothers, her husband next to her and then their two sons, Fíli and Kíli, sat across from each other with Kíli next to Frerin. Breakfast had begun peacefully. Bilbo paid attention to the conversation between Thorin and his father. Most of it was lost on him, however. He thought they might be talking about mining or gemstones, something of that ilk.
Much of the Khuzdul he did not understand. And his focus was being torn away from them.
The youngest of the Durins were obviously doing something they shouldn’t. Bilbo knew the look upon their faces quite well. He had exchanged it far too many times with his cousins closer to his age as a faunt. Whatever they were plotting would likely ruin breakfast. He did not like that prospect.
Bilbo only wanted to enjoy his breakfast and then continue adjusting to Erebor, now that he was able to go where he pleased. Thorin had even offered to show him other places around the kingdom, so long as they were together. That was a bit difficult, as his husband was almost always busy.
They’d had time alone before but he could see already that it would be scarce for a few weeks.
He startled when a spoonful of eggs flew across the table, in front of him, and smacked into Thorin’s face. The eggs slid slowly down their uncle’s face. Bilbo watched as Thorin’s face started turning red.
“Boys!” scolded Thorin.
Bilbo tried to keep his laughter from bubbling over. It would only encourage them and he didn’t want to possibly upset Thorin more. Beside him, Frerin burst into loud laughter after a second passed. Thorin’s eyes flicked toward him and his mouth turned down into a scowl.
Thráin and Fris had both been keeping straight, strict faces but at the sound of their youngest’s laughter, they both broke into grins.
Thorin’s eyes turned onto his sister and her husband.
“You cannot approve of this behavior, Dís!”
“Oh, Thorin,” sighed his sister, a smile tugging on her lips as well. Víli was already laughing, his shoulders moving up and down, though he made no sound. “They’re just playing and it’s not that big of a deal!”
He scowled more, getting up and stomping out of the dining room before anyone could say anything more. Bilbo blinked and looked back at the rest of the family. None of them seemed too shocked. In fact, they were already going back to eating their breakfast.
Bilbo excused himself, hurrying after Thorin. He worried slightly that he might have waited too long and would be unable to find the dwarf. For his luck. Thorin had stopped only a little way from the doors into the dining room.
He turned at the sound of Bilbo’s feet, then looked down at his own.
“Come now,” said Bilbo, offering a small smile. “It wasn’t too bad -- just a few eggs.”
“I’ll have to redo all my braids,” grumbled Thorin, his hands coming up to his beard. Most of the egg had landed there, though Bilbo noticed that there was some in his hair as well.
“Oh.”
They stood in silence for a long moment before Thorin shook his head and cleared his throat.
“I have a meeting with my father later, I should wash my hair and redo my braids before, I need to go do that.”
“I could help?” offered Bilbo.
“You…” Thorin looked extremely conflicted. His eyes searched Bilbo’s face. The offer seemed to confuse him greatly. An unfamiliar look flitted quickly across his face, one that the hobbit was unable to describe. Then his face became stern. “You do not know how to do these braids. I greatly appreciate the offer but I, ah, perhaps another time.”
“Well, er, alright,” murmured Bilbo in response, watching as the dwarf strode quickly into their rooms without a look back.
He almost felt as though he had almost, somehow offended his husband.
With a sigh, Bilbo walked back into the dining room. In the short space of time he’d been gone, everyone but Dís had cleared out. It seemed that Fíli and Kíli had continued throwing their breakfast about. The dining room was a mess. When he walked in, she looked up and beamed at him.
“How is he?”
“Oh, Thorin? He’s… I think he’s fine. Just has to wash his hair, there’s a meeting.” Bilbo watched her for a moment, noting the many similar braids in her hair for the first time. “Actually, I need to ask you something.”
Months had passed since he had married Bilbo and Thorin could not begin to properly describe the relationship between the two of them. It was certainly a good one, shifting far from the beginning of their marriage. He felt close to his husband. They shared many things, always spending time in the evening together.
It felt so right.
However, there’d been something bothering him for a while now. He wasn’t quite sure when it had started, but Bilbo had been acting quite odd.
He spent much of his time with Dís and Frerin, interchangeably. It was not the time spent with his sister that bothered Thorin, but the time spent with his brother. Of the two of them, Frerin had always been far more attractive and charming by dwarf standards. He could hardly compete. He had never wanted to, either.
However, his brother’s friendship and relationship with Bilbo worried him. What if there was something more there? After all, they’d had an entire journey to get to know each other. People always grew much closer to each other on journeys,
Though, there was no evidence that anything had transpired between them. Bilbo would not say why he spent so much time with Thorin’s siblings, though, and that bothered him just as much. It wouldn’t have been suspicious if Bilbo said why. He’d been strangely tight-mouthed about it.
That was the main reason that when Thorin stepped into their rooms in the later afternoon, after a rather stressful meeting, he did not expect Bilbo to be in their rooms. As far as he could tell, and he even checked the study, he was not.
With a rather disappointed sigh, the dwarf left to go take a bath. It would do him some good and help ease out a bit of his stress. He took a rather long one, enjoying the heat of the water and the subsequent steam from it.
Surely by the time he left the bath his fingers and toes were wrinkled, but he did not check. He grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist and nabbed another to rub dry his hair. Thorin had his thoughts on his more comfortable bed clothes. Bilbo would hopefully not complain that Thorin was already dressed for bed when he came back.
Thorin pushed opened the door with his shoulder, looking up as he entered.
There, on their bed, sat Bilbo. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of Thorin. The dwarf felt his cheeks warm and he held the towel tighter. He’d been intending to drop it a second later but that would be rather inappropriate.
“Ah, I did not... expect you to be here,” admitted Thorin, not daring to meet Bilbo’s eyes.
“Oh, yes, I... I apologize. Shall I close my eyes?”
“If you would not mind…”
Bilbo gave him a strange look before shutting his eyes tightly. Thorin quickly made his way over to the wardrobe, pulling out his bedclothes and pulling his pants and bottoms on quickly. For the time being, he set the shirt aside. He had to braid his hair yet and he did not feel like dealing with the struggle of a shirt at the moment.
“You can open your eyes,” he said softly.
When Bilbo did, he almost immediately averted them and stared thoughtfully at the furs covering their bed. “What, ah, what are you doing? Do you need to braid your hair?”
Thorin thought that was a rather specific question. He eyed Bilbo carefully.
“Aye, I do.”
“Oh,” said Bilbo, quickly looking at Thorin. His face was a little flushed. “Let me help.”
“Bilbo, I’ve told you-”
“I know how to do it now, I’ve been practicing, I mean…” he looked quite sheepish as he continued on speaking. “That is, I asked Dís and Frerin for their help. I’ve been practicing what they taught me. I can only do the marriage braids and your house braids, but if you would please. Let me.”
Thorin stared at him, his expression softening.
“Do you know what the significance of doing so is?”
“Of course I do,” murmured Bilbo before beckoning Thorin. “Now come here and let me.”
Thorin smiled a little and moved to sit in front of Bilbo, gazing softly at him. The dwarf had not toweled his hair fully dry, it dripped down his back and Bilbo huffed. He took the towel and went to the task of toweling his hair. Thorin merely chuckled.
“You do not need to dry it all the way, and you really should not. Leave it at least a bit damp, aye?
Bilbo rolled his eyes.
Dís had mentioned that it would be better if he did the braids while the hair was damp, especially after a bath. That seemed odd to him but Frerin had agreed. It helped them set better and it was easier than dealing with wet hair or dry hair. He didn’t really personally understand that himself but it seemed to be a dwarf-specific act.
He murmured quietly under his breath as he started on the house braid first. These could be braided by your spouse or by a family member, though no one else was allowed to do them, as they did not belong to the house in question. You were not allowed to know or learn the braid’s particular style otherwise. His insides fluttered at the thought of the marriage braid. It was only allowed to be braided by your spouse or yourself. No one else, and there was zero exception, was allowed to braid it.
Thorin’s hand brushed his and Bilbo startled slightly, his eyes flicking to the soft expression on his husband’s face. He was holding one of the clasps for his braids for Bilbo to take.
As he finished the house braid, Bilbo paused and looked Thorin in the face. The dwarf kept staring back at him, not breaking their eye contact like he might have in the past.
“It’s alright if I...?”
“Of course it is,” murmured Thorin.
If his hands trembled slightly, Bilbo did not let Thorin know beyond the possibility of the dwarf feeling it as he separated the hair of the braid. He could hardly think about how Thorin might be looking at him. The expression he’d glimpsed only a moment ago was far more than he’d been prepared for.
Bilbo worried slightly that he might mess the braid up from the way his hands trembled. Goodness, he did not want that to happen. He needed to focus on the braid, not on what it meant by him doing it. By the time he had actually completed the braid, his hands had at least stopped trembling as much as they had been. There was a slight tremor yet, but it was not noticeable enough. He hoped.
Thorin’s hand covered Bilbo’s, watching him carefully.
“Are you alright?”
“I am... I am,” assured Bilbo. “Let me finish the braid? I’ll be done after that.”
Thorin did not let go off his hand but he offered the bead up and Bilbo took it with his free hand. It was a little difficult for him to finish the braid with one hand but he did. Thorin’s hand tightened around his.
“May I put your marriage braid in?”
His voice was quiet enough that Bilbo would have missed it if it were not for how close they were. He looked up, blinking in surprise. Thorin’s heart did a somersault in his chest. It was quite bold of him to ask. Unlike dwarves, hobbits did not need to wear the marriage braids. As it was not their tradition, no one had pressured Bilbo to do it simply because he’d married the prince. He was a hobbit, not a dwarf. They had that understanding.
The thought of Bilbo wearing their marriage braid had Thorin nearly blushing.
“I would like that,” said Bilbo after a moment, smiling encouragingly at him.
Thorin swallowed and began braiding immediately. His hands worked much quicker than Bilbo’s, from years and years of braiding his own hair. Even the marriage braid felt natural in his hands, after only a few months of putting it in his own hair.
When his thoughts turned towards the fact that he might always have Bilbo braid his hair, like this, it caused him to falter slightly.
Bilbo noticed, turning his eyes toward Thorin in question. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” he said quickly, his face heating up more.
After a few more moments, Thorin finished the braid. He was suddenly glad that he had kept the beads he’d made for Bilbo instead of throwing them out in a fit like he had thought to do in the first few weeks of their marriage. He retrieved one, smiling to himself as Bilbo looked curiously at it, and tied the braid off with it.
“There,” said Thorin softly. “There we are.”
Bilbo looked up at him, smiling shyly. The marriage braid sat comfortably behind his left ear. The entire image itself, Bilbo with their marriage braid and sitting in their bed before him, stole Thorin’s breath for a second.
How had he ever doubted the feelings he had toward Bilbo? He could not deny them now.
He hadn’t noticed, then, that the hobbit’s eyes had drifted down over his chest. In fact, he’d quite forgotten that he had not put his shirt on. This was the first time Bilbo had seen his chest. The multitude of scars probably shocked him. Thorin had to assume, at least, that he had not seen many scars before now.
One of Bilbo’s hands, likely not of his own violation, had moved and brushed his fingers gently against the puckered skin of one of the scars. The story behind it came instantly to his mind before he could think too much about it.
“Frerin,” said Thorin sharply, startling Bilbo from the touch. He withdrew his hand as if he had been scalded.
“It was Frerin,” continued the dwarf, looking down at the scar himself. “We are not... very skilled with the bow, it is not a well-tuned dwarf weapon. But he insisted upon learning. My mother refused any more lessons after he accidentally hit me with an arrow, though. I can’t say I am sorry he did not keep learning. Though, my nephew, Kíli, is much more skilled…”
Bilbo had smiled a little, his eyes jumping down to other along Thorin’s chest. The largest he had was one that curved around his side and ended on his back. The hobbit kept glancing back at it, though he would then focus his attention on another scar on his chest instead.
“It was…” Thorin paused and then looked down. “When I was younger, we had a great battle between our people and the orcs. I did not wish for Frerin to fight with us, but we needed all the help we could get at the time. I do not think he would have survived if I had not protected him.”
A quiet fell between them for a long moment before Bilbo touched the scar lightly, tracing its path with his fingers. Thorin shivered at the contact, settling his hands on the hobbit’s hips. Bilbo shifted slightly, moving more into Thorin’s lap.
When he brought his lips to Thorin’s most recent scar, the one from when they’d been attacked by the orcs outside of Mirkwood, it startled him greatly. His hands tightened on Bilbo’s hips, before moving up to his waist.
His fingers slid up under Bilbo’s shirt, pausing as the hobbit sucked in a breath.
“Is this…?”
“Yes,” breathed Bilbo against Thorin’s shoulder but did not move his head from where he now rested it.
A moment later, Thorin had pushed his hands further up along Bilbo’s sides. He was careful to not be too light with his touches or risk tickling the hobbit in a moment that he very much did not wish to turn into giggles. Bilbo’s hand had tightened on his other shoulder. As he worked his hands up, he brought the shirt up with him.
His hands paused as he came to Bilbo’s armpits. This is where things would go one way or another. They could continue on in this manner or, or not. He didn’t know what exactly he wanted to happen, but more importantly, it mattered what Bilbo wanted too.
Lost in his inner debate, he didn’t notice Bilbo sit back and hold his arms up. He did, however, hear his husband’s voice clearly.
“Well? Don’t you want to be on even footing?”
Thorin breathed in sharply and then pushed Bilbo’s shirt up and over his head and arms, until he could drop it onto the floor beside the bed. The hobbit gave him a disapproving look. Thorin ignored it. His eyes were too busy roaming over Bilbo’s chest.
It was absolutely clear, but for a smattering of hair a shade darker than the hair on top of his head. There were no scars visible and Thorin knew that he did not an actual look at the back of Bilbo’s back to see the same. Besides that, he had freckles sprinkled lightly across his shoulders.
His skin was flushed slightly when the dwarf looked up to meet his eyes.
“Goodness, you do not need to look at me like that,” mumbled Bilbo.
But how could he not? The braid shifted behind Bilbo’s ear as he ducked his head down.
“I will not let any harm come to you,” said Thorin softly. The statement caused Bilbo to look back up immediately and blink rapidly.
He opened his mouth, intending to say something but Thorin did not let him. He feared that they might delve into something deeper and he could not handle that tonight. It was a conversation for another night, a different night.
Tonight, he intended, tonight would be for them. If it carried out that way, he hoped greatly that it would.
The kiss had taken Bilbo by surprise but he responded after a moment, kissing back fiercely. Thorin thought briefly about their last kiss, blurred by his lack of full consciousness. He’d been so desperate for anything between them. Bilbo had been there when he’d managed a wink of awareness, leaning against him. He hadn’t known fully what he was doing but he had not regretted it. Besides, Bilbo had kissed him back.
Bilbo was kissing him back in this moment.
Despite both of them only bare from the waist up, the tentative grind of Bilbo’s hips against his stole Thorin’s breath right from his lungs. While he had imagined this once or twice, kissing Bilbo and beyond that, the feeling of the fantasy could not begin to compare to how it truly felt.
One of his hands drifted lower and settled on the curve of Bilbo’s backside. His hips rose slightly in response before he rolled them harder against Thorin. Thorin could not help the upward buck of his hips.
Bilbo’s hand scrambled against his shoulders as the movement of his hips grew unsteady.
“Thorin,” gasped Bilbo. “Thorin, oh, I-I... please, touch me.”
With a soft groan, relieved at the permission to do something, Thorin slipped his hand into Bilbo’s breeches and then pushed into his pants. Bilbo’s back arched as Thorin’s fingers brushed lightly against his cock.
His hand encircled the half-hard cock, which was already beginning to harden under his touch. He had not touched anyone but himself and the difference between the two of them was astounding. Incredible. Bilbo was a good deal smaller, though that likely had to do with his natural size compared to a dwarf. His skin even felt smoother as he rubbed his thumb repeatedly over the head of Bilbo’s cock.
Over him, as their positions has shifted so that Bilbo practically sat on top of him, the hobbit breathed in shakily and then whimpered as he thrust slightly into Thorin’s hand. Thorin took that as a cue and began stroking Bilbo slowly, speeding up every so often.
“Oh, oh, yes…”
Thorin watched him with hooded eyes. Everything about Bilbo was beautiful and even more so as he moaned over the dwarf. He could not describe the way he felt. There had never been such a feeling of want inside of him before.
His heart hammered as Bilbo locked eyes with him, his shoulders trembling. Bilbo had propped himself up with one hand, likely in order to keep himself from falling over and he had not noticed until he could follow the tremor from his shoulders all the way down his arm.
“T-thorin, oh!”
Bilbo gasped and let out a surprised yelp as Thorin rolled them onto their sides. It was perhaps not the most comfortable position they could be in but it was certainly better than how they’d been moments ago. Bilbo was not trembling to hold his weight up anymore, at least. Though as Thorin continued stroking him, he tremored harder from that.
It sent bolts of pleasure down Thorin’s spine.
“What, oh gods, w-what about you…?”
He’d barely thought of himself, he would have told Bilbo, but the hobbit had grown incoherent again as Thorin twisted his wrist. That had a wonderful effect of causing Bilbo to squirm and scramble to hold onto Thorin or the bed or anything.
Somehow, though, Bilbo managed to overtake the feeling of pleasure Thorin was attempting. His hands were shaking as he reached and shoved at Thorin’s breeches until they were halfway down. As he went for his pants next, he spasmed for a moment and moaned deeply.
“If you would, ah, just give me a moment, this would be quite better for b-both of us,” he panted.
Thorin relented, stopping his hand though he did not let go. That seemed enough for Bilbo, who shoved Thorin’s pants down rather rudely.
He was going to protest but then the hobbit was doing the same to himself. His hand bumped lightly against Thorin’s before he looked up at him.
“Well?”
Thorin’s mouth had gone dry. The sight of his husband’s cock, hard and flushed and curved onto his stomach, had caught him completely off guard. Bilbo did not seem to be giving his more than one glance. He might have been upset about it but obviously, Bilbo was expecting something from him.
“What? I...” He was plainly confused about what Bilbo wanted to do now.
They were not prepared for much more than this and he was not willing to potentially ruin the mood for a break to retrieve what they needed.
Bilbo’s expression had softened.
“Have you never done this?”
“Ah… no.” Thorin studied his husband’s face then shook his head.
“Oh, oh,” sighed Bilbo, though he looked rather pleased instead of disappointed. “Come here, closer.”
When Thorin did scoot himself up against Bilbo, their cocks bumped together and he shivered. Bilbo did as well, though he reached down and wrapped his hand around both of their cocks. Rather he tried.
He doubted Bilbo could wrap one hand around Thorin’s cock, much less the combined girth of theirs. He slid his own hand down and covered Bilbo’s, his hand comfortably encompassing the both of them.
“This?” he asked hoarsely. Bilbo nodded, apparently having lost the ability or concentration to speak.
He began stroking Bilbo again, this time himself as well. At first, the movement was odd but quickly, he fell into the familiarity of his own hand.
Moreover, the press of Bilbo’s cock against his heightened the pleasure. He couldn’t contain himself from thrusting into his hand and against Bilbo’s erection. Beside him, the hobbit moaned and thrusted back against him. They fell into a comfortable rhythm, rutting against each other shamelessly. This was not what Thorin had thought would be their first encounter but he could not complain. Bilbo’s gasps and moans were scattered with his name.
Thorin could feel himself nearing his end, the pressure building and his movements becoming jerky and disjointed. Bilbo’s breathing had grown heavier and he could feel the trembling starting up anew. They were both so close and Thorin closed the gap between them with a messy kiss.
This sent Bilbo over the edge. He moaned loudly against Thorin’s lips, shaking hard as he came over Thorin’s hand. The feeling and sounds of Bilbo’s climax managed to send Thorin soaring over the edge as well.
When he finally came down, Bilbo had sprawled out on the bed. His eyes were closed and he was panting heavily, by how fast his chest was moving up and down. Thorin closed his for a moment, thinking about what had just happened. He grinned and then felt the embarrassment clambering up his throat.
It was not wrong of them at all. But he had... it had happened quickly, escalating from light touches into that.
Bilbo had turned his head then, looking curiously at Thorin.
“Is everything alright?”
“Ah,” started Thorin, opening his eyes and looking at Bilbo. “I am fine, that was just…”
“Mhm... it was quite good; I should like to think. Did you like it?”
He looked fairly nervous and Thorin could not imagine why. What they had just done, what Bilbo had just done, he couldn’t imagine anything better than that. He knew, of course as he was not an idiot, that there was far more than that. However, he just couldn’t think or imagine the pleasure beyond what he’d experienced only a few minutes ago.
“Did I like it?” breathed Thorin, staring at him incredulously.
Bilbo’s brows drew together, and the nervous look on his face grew. The dwarf scrambled to say more before his husband thought otherwise about how he felt.
“Oh, I liked it more than anything else!”
His exclamation had apparently embarrassed Bilbo quite thoroughly as he covered his face. Though, the dwarf could see that his ears were reddening. He couldn’t quite peg what he’d said that had done that.
“Bilbo?”
“Goodness, Thorin,” mumbled the hobbit. “Please don’t tell me that was your first time?”
“I’ve touched myself before,” responded Thorin, feeling his confusion grow.
“That is...” groaned Bilbo, dropping his hands and staring at Thorin for a long minute. “I am... that is fine information to know, but I meant, have you ever been with anybody else?”
“Of course not!”
Thorin felt scandalous at the suggestion of such a thing. How could he have? Besides, he was sure Bibo was his One, if he did have one at all. He could never be sure but the feeling and his love for Bilbo had to be quite close. In any case, he loved Bilbo as he loved no other.
Bilbo’s face changed.
“Oh, that’s not... I suppose that isn’t something dwarves do, is it?”
“It is not. Do… hobbits do that?”
“Well, yes, but,” Bilbo’s hand found his and squeezed. He remembered that their hands needed to be washed soon. “I wouldn’t worry about anything. I never did more than what we just did. We’re both in uncharted territory now. Hm?”
“I’m...” swallowed Thorin. “I am not sure I am quite ready for anything more yet.”
“Oh,” smiled Bilbo and quickly pressed a kiss to Thorin’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We don’t have to do anything else, if you do not want to. You only need to tell me either way.”
Then, Bilbo stood up and stretched. Thorin’s eyes followed his husband’s naked body across their room. The hobbit glanced over his shoulder, grinning.
“I’ll bring you a washcloth, shall I?”
Thorin flushed as Bilbo left the room quickly to their bathing room.
It had been a few weeks since Bilbo and Thorin had spent their first night together. They’d settled well into their married life. There were occasional nights of intimacy, but it was an uncommon occurrence. Thorin’s duties as prince and heir of Erebor had become more intense ever since they had been married, at least according to the dwarf. Apparently, his father was fearing his end was near and Thorin needed to learn quicker than he had before.
Besides that, Bilbo had been working hard at learning Khuzdul in a timely manner. It was not an easy language and while he memorized certain phrases, it was not as good as actually knowing how to speak the language.
He’d been walking and talking with Bafarr and Ori, on their way to the library. She’d been reassigned to guarding him post-wedding. They didn’t think there was much reason for it, but he supposed the dwarves did feel better if he had someone watching over him. Bilbo had missed her presence, in any case.
“As I was saying,” continued the dwarf guard. “I think it would be better if you learned the other dwarf language.”
“I’ve been told it’s harder!”
“It really isn’t that much harder,” added Ori, clutching the book to his chest tighter. “I mean; it is if you don’t already know Khuzdul. Which is why he’s learning that first.”
“If you just did both, like any dwarf child…”
Bafarr rolled her eyes and then paused as her younger brother came running up to them.
“What is it?”
“For his highness,” bowed the young dwarf before standing up and turning his attention fully onto Bilbo. “His Majesty King Thráin has called for you. He would you like in the council room immediately. I will escort you.”
“Ah, well,” stuttered Bilbo. He couldn’t really argue with an order from Thráin. “Okay. What about Bafarr?”
“She may come as well, I should think that the King would like to see her with you. It was his order if I remember.”
Bafarr rolled her eyes while Bilbo glanced at Ori. The dwarf simply smiled reassuringly at his friend.
“I’ll see you later? If you’re not pulled into something all day.”
“Of course,” agreed Bilbo before following the two dwarves to the council room.
He was glad it was not too far away from where they were at the moment. Were they in a meeting right now? He couldn’t recall Thorin’s schedule for the afternoon.
As they entered the council room, Bilbo immediately searched the room for Thorin. There he was, sitting next to his father and looking extremely bored with everything. When he met Bilbo’s eyes though, the dwarf brightened up instantly. You wouldn’t have guessed that he wanted to be anywhere else.
For a moment, he wondered why the dwarf had looked like he was about to fall asleep. Then, he saw the grouping of elves sitting on the other side of the council table. Balin smiled tightly at Bilbo, a hint of relief in his eyes.
“Ah, here he is.”
Thráin stood up, holding out an arm and beckoning Bilbo over to his side. The hobbit approached slowly, eyes on Thorin before moving to the elves and offering a warm smile. He spotted Tauriel among them and felt slight relief. She was not so bad.
“I was about to tell the elves from Mirkwood about you, Bilbo. This is Bilbo Baggins, my eldest son’s husband. He comes from the Shire. I believe a few of you may know him, as he traveled through your land on his way here. He seems to... Let me say, I believe that he might be a good ambassador between our people.”
Bilbo opened his mouth in surprise but Thráin continued talking before he could say anything else.
“He is not an elf and he is not a dwarf, I am sure you can understand my point. Despite being married to my son; he will certainly be less biased than a dwarf. Do you not agree?”
There were murmurs between the elves before one of them, though tit was not Tauriel, gave an affirmation.
“Wonderful! Then, from now on, any meeting between dwarves and elves shall be handled by my advisor Balin and ambassador Bilbo.”
The title sounded strange but as he looked at the elves, Bilbo felt a small amount of excitement. He would have a duty that contributed to the good of Erebor’s future and he quite liked the elves to spend time with them.
However, Thráin’s words seemed to be a dismissal as the elves slowly left the room. Tauriel gave him a goodbye wave as she left. Thráin walked away, Balin and the rest of the council following him.
Thorin lingered, smiling softly as he came up to Bilbo’s side.
“Are you happy?”
“Well,” murmured Bilbo, taking Thorin’s offered hand. “I can’t say it’s a bad thing. I can stand the elves more than you, after all.”
“It was on my suggestion,” said the dwarf, bringing Bilbo’s hand up to his lips for a kiss. “I thought you might like doing something besides learning our language, and my father was growing tired of dealing with the elves.”
Bilbo grinned up at him. “I am glad you considered me then.”
“Of course,” murmured Thorin, pulling Bilbo out of the council room. No one else was in the hall, as they had apparently run off to their respective places quickly. “Are you busy?”
“I did promise Ori I would come to the library. Would you like to come with me?”
“I would love to.”
The day had started off exhausting the moment Bilbo had woken up. He’d been intending on cuddling up with his husband for a while before they had to get up. Instead, he had been rushed from the room by Balin. A delegation from Mirkwood had arrived before he had stirred from his dreams.
In the first two weeks, his position as an ambassador between the two kingdoms had escalated in its workload. Any negotiation or meeting between the two had been delegated to him. No dwarf wanted to deal with the elves, and likewise, no elf desired dealing with the dwarves. Bilbo had little problem with this. It was exactly his job, after all.
They had already improved their relations. He could not complain if it improved further, purely because of him.
Unfortunately, being pulled away from his bed barely gave him any time for a proper change. He had felt quite silly dressed in his sleep clothes and meeting one of the elves’ delegation, but at the least he’d been able to get a hold of his robe as they’d left.
Thorin had not even woken up yet.
As it was, he had managed to send his husband a message letting him know that he’d likely be busy in a meeting with an elf.
It had gone on for far too long. He had almost fell asleep during it, which likely upset the elf but he couldn’t help it. Bilbo had become used to waking up and cuddling with Thorin in the morning and without that, he felt as though his whole day was set off. Even if this was his life now. He loved routine far too much.
Adventures were quite nice in the ideal, but he had had quite enough for now. All he truly wanted was to be relaxed and happy in Erebor, sprinkled with a few stressful meetings to remind him of that.
By the time he had made it out of the meeting, he had been far too stressed out to think of much at all. Otherwise, he might have noticed the ruckus the kingdom appeared to be in. It was not for lack of trying. Bilbo happened to think himself rather observant, but he was far too tired and several times almost ran into walls.
Bofur had appeared at his side, startling him greatly.
“Oh!” Bilbo smiles brightly, though underlaid with his exhaustion. “Hello, Bofur. How are you?”
“Oh, I’m just fine, thank you,” chuckled the dwarf and tipped his hat slightly. “You don’t look too well, though.”
“Yes, well,” sighed Bilbo and yawned, covering his mouth in embarrassment. “Sorry. I am rather tired I admit. I think a nap might do me well…”
“Oh, I don’t know if that’s what you want to do,” said Bofur airily.
Bilbo frowned in response and then realized Bofur had directed them down a different hall than the royal housing. He had truly been intending for a nap before dinner that night. He only vaguely recognized the halls they were in now.
Not very close to the royal rooms. He glanced questioningly at the dwarf walking next to him.
“Look, you can head back and take a nap after you see this, aye?”
Bofur winked at him and stopped, but gestured for Bilbo to continue on walking. With a larger frown, his mind on the softness of his bed and the welcome embrace of his dreams, he walked further along. There were more dwarves the further he went down and they all smiled eagerly at him. In fact, while he recognized several of the dwarves around, he did not know all of them. In fact, it seemed quite a good population of Erebor was in this one hall.
How strange and also discomforting, thought Bilbo. What were they doing here? What was he doing here?
He paused and swallowed as he gazed back at his husband. Thorin stood there, dressed far too elegant for a normal day. The dwarves always dressed quite nicely, no doubt, but not that nice unless they were holding or doing something rather important.
Bilbo tried to recall if he had missed anything important happening today. They hadn’t had an opportunity to talk that morning with Bilbo in the meeting. Balin hadn’t said anything, though, and the advisor would have told him.
There was nothing coming to mind. He hoped he had not forgotten anything alarmingly important. That was unlike him.
“Hello, ghivashel,” greeted Thorin softly. Bilbo smiled in return. “Please, come with me.”
Bilbo took the offered hand, intertwining their fingers and offering another smile in return, though this one was far more nervous. What exactly was Thorin showing him? He could only assume that was what the dwarf was doing, as Bofur had suggested.
“Close your eyes,” whispered Thorin. Bilbo did, frowning more.
He heard the sound of a heavy door being opened. Due to the lack of his sight, he had to carefully move and follow Thorin through the door. The first thing that caught his attention was the sensation of grass against his toes. It was one he knew; one he had been so used to in the past but had not felt in a long while.
The brush of Thorin’s arm against his startled him as well.
“You can open your eyes,” said Thorin quietly as he had before.
When Bilbo did, he felt his heart leap. Around him and in front of him, lay a beautiful garden. It was not much like a hobbit’s garden, though that was mostly attributed to the fact that not much was actually growing here. It was the grass that impressed him, though he noted the two small saplings sprouting and the flower bushes about.
In fact, those flowers looked strikingly familiar. He looked up at the dwarf.
“Did you do this?”
“Aye, I...” Thorin breathed in and took his hand in both of his. “I wanted you to have somewhere you might like to spend time. This is all yours, in fact, you’re the only one allowed in here. You can let others in as well, but only by your word can others enter.”
“You didn’t have to do this,” said Bilbo softly. His hands were trembling. “Really, Thorin, I love Erebor…”
“I did not do this because I thought I needed to,” replied Thorin and squeezed his hands gently. “I wanted to. Bilbo, I do not know much of your home, but I want to know more and I... I am hoping that I may see it one day myself.”
“Oh... you... really?”
“Aye,” smiled Thorin and took a step back, looking around the garden himself. “I understand it must be quite different from a mountain and that is why I want to know. But this is not all. I have something else for you.”
“Oh, goodness,” murmured Bilbo, feeling his face flush. “Thorin, please.”
But his husband had stepped back closer to him, smiling softly down at him. Somewhere from within his robes, the prince had withdrawn a ring. It glittered strangely in the light. It was not quite like silver but he had never seen this metal before.
“This,” murmured Thorin. “This is a mithril ring. Mithril is a light metal, light as feathers, but if it were fashioned into armor, it would save your life no matter what.”
As he slipped it onto Bilbo’s fingers, he felt his heart flutter more.
He looked up into Thorin’s eyes and then smiled widely as he tugged his husband closer by the edge of his robe. Thorin breathed in softly.
“Sasakhabiya abnâmul,” he said it quietly, only for Bilbo to hear.
“What does that mean? You said it before…”
“You look beautiful,” Thorin translated, his eyes on Bilbo’s.
The kiss, soft but deep, startled him for a moment but he returned it almost instantly. His arms wrapped around Bilbo, pulling him closer and one hand moved to cup his cheek. When they pulled away, he beamed up at the dwarf.
“I love you,” murmured Bilbo, his heart overflowing.