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Thorin stretched out on the picnic blanket under the party tree; one hand resting on his hip while the other was looped, lazily, around the waist of his Hobbit. He lay with his eyes closed, simply enjoying the warmth of the being he loved most against him.
Naturally, it was a perfect day.
If this is what being dead was like, he would gladly die again.
“Strawberry?” The sound of Bilbo’s soft voice tickled Thorin’s ears like a wind chime and he opened his eyes to gaze upon his love’s beautiful face above him.
“Âkminrûk zu,” Thorin said with a wink as Bilbo held the red, ripe fruit for Thorin to bite. Strawberries were not Thorin’s favorite – that honor belonged to Raspberries, but when offered by Bilbo, it was the most delicious treat he could think of. “Do you know what I want to do for you?” Thorin asked between chews.
“You already did that this morning,” Bilbo raised a jaunty eyebrow.
“Okay, the other thing,” Thorin said with a smirk.
“What is that, my sweet?” Bilbo offered Thorin another strawberry – this one dipped in whipped cream which was gladly accepted.
Thorin chewed and swallowed the fruit before answering. “I am going to forge you some new iron pans.”
“Is there something wrong with my old ones?”
“No. But I thought you deserved some made especially for you.”
Bilbo hummed at that. “Could they have Dwarvish designs on them?”
“Of course, âzyungel, if that is what you want – but I was thinking more like flowers and ivy vines.”
“Those would be lovely,” Bilbo said, nodding and offering another berry. “But on the outside or along the handle – you could put Dwarvish knots and graphics on the inside.”
Thorin hadn’t thought of that. “Nice combination of both styles.”
“Exactly.”
“Your wish is my command.” Thorin leaned up and gave Bilbo a kiss laced with the taste of strawberries.
“Do you know what I am going to do for you?” Bilbo said when then came back up for air.
“You did that last night,” Thorin said with a smirk.
“Cheeky Dwarf,” Bilbo said, gently pulling Thorin’s beard which earned him a swat on the rump from his Dwarf. “No, the next thing I’m going to do for you.”
“And what is that, sanâzyung?”
“Embroider your tunics.”
“What is wrong with my tunics?”
“Nothing. I just figured they would look nice with some flowers around the collar.”
“Flowers?” Thorin chuckled.
“Well – just a few and nothing garish or distasteful.”
“I see. So nothing like Lobelia?”
Bilbo sighed and rolled his eyes. “Honestly, that woman. She’d gild a lily!”
Thorin laughed outright at that. Lobelia had only gotten mildly more pleasant in the afterlife but her taste in clothing had not changed; it was still bad.
“If you believe I would look better, than by all means – I will not tell you no.”
“Not better, my love. You couldn’t look better.”
Thorin gave a look of confusion. “Should I take that as a compliment? Are you saying there is no hope for me?”
Bilbo huffed at that. “No, you silly Dwarf. You couldn’t look better, because you can’t get better than perfection.”
“Oh, ikhuzh menu gulûb-kidhuzur!” Thorin scoffed but winked at Bilbo all the same.
“What does that mean?” Bilbo giggled.
“Stop your golden words – or roughly, stop your flattery.”
Bilbo gave Thorin a mock pout. “But it’s not flattery if I am speaking the truth.”
Thorin just rolled his eyes but smiled as he leaned up once again to capture his Hobbit’s lips with his own.
“Young man, what do you think you are doing?” The male voice startled Thorin who pulled back quickly, but Bilbo simply turned his head lazily to look over at his approaching parents.
“Hello, Pops. Mum.”
“Hello, sweetheart,” Belladoona Baggins said with a warm smile. “Hello, Thorin-dear.”
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Baggins. Mr. Baggins.” Thorin flushed red, as both he and Bilbo sat up.
“Son. Thorin.” Mr. Baggins said; his face unreadable and his mouth set to a thin line. “Do you think that kind of behavior is appropriate for public display?”
Thorin’s eyes widened and his mouth opened but words came out.
“Oh, Bungo!” Belladonna swatted her husband’s arm gently. “Stop teasing the boys!”
Bungo gave his wife a side-ways glance that spoke volumes of seriousness and Hobbity disapproval, only to be countered by his wife’s raised eyebrow and look that said she was not impressed. This caused her husband to finally crack and burst into a full throated laugh and hold his belly. Belladonna shook her head and shrugged her shoulders at her boys.
“You should have seen your face, Thorin!” Bungo choked out as he tried to keep from doubling over.
Thorin huffed out a hollow laugh and looked at Bilbo, who leaned over and gave Thorin a kiss on his whiskered cheek.
“Don’t pay any attention to Pops – he loves teasing you.” Biblo reached out and gingerly rubbed Thorin’s ear lobe, which always relaxed the Dwarf. “Dad, there was nothing unseemly in our behavior. We were fully dressed and our hands were in clear sight.”
“Oh, I’m just messing about! Besides, no one cares about that around here.”
“Write that down, Bilbo,” Belladonna giggled as she and Bungo sat down, “so we can show your father when he starts sounding like Lobelia!”
Bilbo sighed. “Lobelia – leave it to her to still polish my pumpkin the wrong way, even in the afterlife.
Thorin almost choked on his drink. “’Polish your pumpkin?’”
“You never heard that?”
“No, âzyungel – this is the first!”
“Oh – well one has to clean and polish a pumpkin before competition, so to polish someone’s pumpkin is – well – you know – get one excited.”
“Is that so?” Thorin said as he struggled not to laugh.
“Yes! Like – you, know – you – polish my pumpkin.” Bilbo said with a blush and Thorin gave him a wink and swooped in for a kiss.
“I bet he does.” Bungo said under his breath to Belladonna, who in turn smacked his arm again and told him to behave.
“So to polish someone’s pumpkin the wrong way is to irritate someone,” Bilbo added.
“That I kind of figured out, âzyungel – I just never heard the phrase.”
“Really?” Bungo said, perplexed. He was well known for coining proverbs and phrases. “What about, “Squeeze my lemons?”
“No.” Thorin said, chuckling.
Suddenly, all three Hobbits added more.
“Pluck my petals.”
“Toss my taters.”
“Cook my carrots.”
“Burn my biscuits.”
“I got it – I got it.” Thorin said, holding up his hands in surrender.
“Don’t Dwarf’s have proverbs?” Bungo asked.
“We do, but they are totally different.” Thorin replied. “Like – ‘Chips my chisel’, or ‘Don’t count your gems before they’re cut’, or ‘No two diamonds shine the same’, or – uhm –”
“Like what?” Bilbo asked, helping himself to another strawberry.
“Well there are some newer ones I found out – from Erebor.”
“Really?” Belladonna said interested as she munched a cookie.
Thorin cleared his throat. “They made a few new ones after – after the, uhm – after the quest.”
“Based on your quest?” Bungo poured himself some lemonade while he waited; he loved collecting new proverbs.
“Yes.”
“Well, tell us,” Bilbo said, looking perplexed Thorin, who seemed reluctant for some reason.
Thorin swallowed before continuing. “You have to understand that I had no say in it and I only found out after the fact – I mean, after I was – was dead.” All the Hobbits nodded but looked at him intensely. “And the best one basically means to you shouldn’t mess with things that could come back to haunt you later.” Again all the Hobbits nodded, but Bilbo lost his patience.
“Oh for goodness sake, what is it Thorin?”
Thorin sighed. “Don’t bugger the burglar.” Bungo and Belladonna both clutched their sides and fell over laughing uncontrollably.
“WHAT?!” Bilbo hopped to his feet but Thorin was already up.
“I swear I had nothing to do with it, sanâzyung!” Thorin yelled over his shoulder as Bilbo proceeded to chase him around the party tree, tossing strawberries at his back.
“Remind me to write that one down!” Bungo wheezed out as he attempted to catch his breath.
“No need,” Belladonna tried breath normally but failed. “I doubt I will ever forget that one!”