Work Text:
Thorin wasn't worried.
Really, he wasn't. There was absolutely no need for him to be worried just because he had been kicked out of his own rooms and his mate was currently giving birth to their first child. It was ridiculous that he wouldn't be allowed in, anyway, especially since the main argument in banishing him had been that he would just worry too much and get Bilbo anxious. He wasn't worried, after all, since Dís and Óin and Tauriel had all told him not to worry, and since Dís had two children herself and Óin was accomplished in midwifery and Tauriel knew her strange elven healing arts clearly he should just believe them.
Except Bilbo was so small, and his rounded belly was so big, and Thorin had heard enough stories about births going awry that he knew it wasn't always as simple as certain people would have preferred him to think.
Okay, so he was worried. He was worried out of his mind, pacing the hallway outside his chambers, unable to sit down and certainly unable to go somewhere else, like Dís had suggested in exasperated tones. He couldn't leave, couldn't take the risk of not being there if there were news, any news about what was going on with his beloved Bilbo, with their baby. All he could do was walk up and down the hallway, occasionally pausing at the door, hand moving to rub the intricate mark at his wrist in the vain hope it would give him some kind of a connection to Bilbo.
He couldn't hear anything from their rooms, thick doors and wall shutting off any hint of sound. Thorin wasn't even sure if he should be upset or grateful for this. On one hand, it was horrifying not to have any indication of what was going on, yet on the other hand… well. There were stories, both more distant ones and the closer tales of people such as Glóin sharing their experiences, mentions of cries of pain echoing through hallways. Thorin wasn't entirely sure he could have stayed out if he had heard Bilbo being in so much pain.
"You're going to wear through your boots at this rate, uncle." Fíli was leaning against a wall, keeping an eye on him. He could deny that all he wanted, but Thorin knew he'd been asked to make sure there was no rushing in unannounced or other such silly things. Dís knew him too well not to have any such arrangement in place.
"They're a better make than the ones that brought me all the way here from Ered Luin. I think they can take a bit of pacing."
"You know it's going to be all right, don't you? Óin's great at this, and Tauriel knows a lot about healing, too." And Thorin knew that, of course he knew that, he'd been telling himself that for hours now, to little avail.
"And yet there are things even the best healers cannot help with." Thorin shook his head. "I don't expect you to understand, Fíli. Not until it's Ori who's giving birth and you are the one fearing the worst."
"I suppose I won't truly understand it until then, no. But I do know what it's like to fear for my mate." And, well. Thorin supposed he would. After all, Ori had taken part in the battle — in many battles, but the last one had been the worst — and from what Thorin heard, Fíli hadn't been sure where he was for a little while afterwards. That was a pain Thorin never wanted to feel again.
This was still worse, knowing that Bilbo was hurting and Thorin was, essentially, the one responsible for his predicament, yet utterly helpless to ease his pain.
"They would let you know if something was going wrong, you know." Fíli pushed himself away from the wall, now, setting a hand on Thorin's arm to halt him. "You know that, right? They wouldn't hide that from you."
"I suppose not." Thorin sighed, running a hand over his face. "I just… I wish I knew something at least, you know? At the moment I don't have any idea how long it's still going to last, if I'll still be here for another hour or a day."
"Ah. I could go and ask?" Fíli tilted his head in question. "I mean, if the main reason they kicked you out was because you kept fretting, and not just because they didn't want anyone else in there, surely they'll at least let me ask a question."
"Would you?" Thorin probably sounded rather pathetically grateful right now, but he couldn't help it. He was just desperate for news, any news, anything they could offer him.
"Of course." Fíli smiled and squeezed his arm, then walked up to the door. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then tried the handle. The door opened easily enough for him, which almost surprised Thorin. He certainly wouldn't have put it past Dís to bar him out of his own rooms.
Then Fíli stepped in and closed the door after himself, and Thorin was left staring at the door all alone.
He wasn't sure how much time passed, though it certainly felt like forever. At last, however, the door opened again, and Fíli peeked out.
"Ah, sorry about that. Turns out my timing was excellent, so I got roped into bathing duty."
"What?" Thorin's heart skipped a beat, then another as Fíli stepped out, and there was something on his arm. Something small and swaddled in a blanket. "Is that…"
"Your firstborn, yeah." Fíli grinned, walking closer with the baby cradled in his arms. "Congratulations, it's a girl!"
"A girl." Thorin barely had the presence of mind to take hold of the child as Fíli offered her to him, but somehow managed to get her secure in his arms. She was small and wrinkly and looked extremely angry, her eyes shut tight and her dark brows knitted together, one tiny hand curled up next to her pouty mouth. She only had a couple of wispy hairs on her head and none at all around her cheeks, her nose was tiny and button-like and everything about her was small and fragile, and Thorin had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.
"Bilbo said you had a name in mind."
"Right." Thorin swallowed. A name, they had agreed on a name, had thought of one for a boy and another for a girl. Not the secret names, those would have to wait until they had a better understanding of the child, but the public name was ready, if only he could recall it even though all thoughts seemed to have escaped his mind. "Ah. Um. Well met, Pilvi, daughter of Thorin, my firstborn child and princess of Durin's line."
"That's a good name, I think." Fíli grinned. "Anyway, I'll go tell the others. Don't get in yet, Amad said you should wait until she comes to get you. Don't worry, though, nothing's amiss."
Thorin hardly even heard Fíli's reassurances, only realising he was gone when he looked up and didn't see anyone else in the hallway. Well, he supposed there would be plenty of people soon enough. He'd better turn his eyes back to his daughter, to get in as much of her as he could.
He did look up as he heard the door open, hoping Dís would be there asking him to come in. It was indeed his sister, but something was clearly wrong, even though Dís was grinning like an absolute maniac.
She was holding something at her arm.
"Dís?" Thorin frowned. "What's going on?"
"Your little hobbit is a miracle, that's what's going on." Dís laughed, a delighted little sound as she stepped out into the hallway. And, yes, that was definitely another swaddled form at her arm, a tiny face peeking out of the folds of the blanket. "May I introduce you to your second born child, brother dearest?"
"What?" Surely he'd heard wrong. Surely that couldn't be right.
…Except all those times Bilbo had spoken with such absolute certainty…
"Apparently Bilbo knew what he was talking about, here. He was bearing two babes all this time, and you now have a daughter and a son." Dís lifted her eyebrows. "Please do not faint. It would be tricky for me to snatch the babe from you while I'm already holding one."
"I'm — I'm not going to faint." Though he did lean against the wall for a little bit, just to be sure. "You — are you certain?"
"I do think I would have noticed if the child had just crawled out of the wall, Thorin. Yes, I am quite certain your darling consort birthed them both, and we've several witnesses to that fact." She walked closer, coming to a halt only a step or two away, close enough that Thorin could see the other tiny face, this one with lighter brows and a hint of tiny whiskers along his jawline. "He needs a name, though."
"Frerin." That much had been clear from the start, both Bilbo and he had agreed. "He — his name is Frerin." He drew a deep breath, turning his eyes to the child, partly because he wasn't sure he could bear to see the soft look in Dís's eyes right now. "Well met, Frerin, son of Thorin, my second born child and prince of Durin's line."
"There, that wasn't so hard, now was it?" Dís chuckled. "Come on, then, I'm hoping Bilbo has been cleaned up well enough by now. I'm sure he'd like to tell you just what he thinks about putting him through such an ordeal."
As it turned out, that was not even nearly what Bilbo wished to say. He was sitting in their bed, the sheets obviously freshly changed, looking exhausted and weary and the most beautiful Thorin had ever seen his mate in his life. He smiled as he saw Thorin and Dís enter with the children, reaching out his arms. Thorin obediently set their daughter in Bilbo's arms, receiving their son from Dís instead.
"Go on, say it." It was the least he deserved.
"I told you so." Bilbo grinned, wild and delighted despite his exhaustion. "And there's another good point about this, too."
"Oh? And what's that?" Thorin lifted his eyebrows.
"Nori's betting pool on the gender of the child will be utterly ruined."
Well. That certainly sounded like an entertaining little episode to look forward to soon, when the Company would no doubt flood their rooms as soon as Fíli got the word spread out to everyone. He was somewhat surprised Kíli hadn't appeared yet, whining about how long he had been separated from his beloved wife and gushing about all the mischief he was going to teach to his little niece and nephew.
That would come in time, though, and they would deal with it all. Right now, that was unimportant. All that mattered was Bilbo, Bilbo and the little children they were each holding, so small and helpless and completely, utterly miraculous.
"Thorin?"
"Hmm?" He didn't take his eyes off little Frerin's face, tracing its lines with his gaze. The baby did in fact resemble his namesake to an extent, for all that Bilbo's influence had clearly softened the usual lines of Durin's blood.
"Next time we have a child, you had better be the one to bear it."
If that startled a slightly hysterical laugh out of him, well, Thorin really didn't think he could be blamed for that.