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When Thorin finally finished talking, all Bilbo could say in return was one word: “What?”
Thorin had frowned, but really, what else was he supposed to say after his announcement was promptly dropped onto the poor hobbit’s head?
They were taking a break after they started their trek to leave the Carrock, and Thorin had requested to speak with him. Bilbo was a bit worried, because he had just gotten on good terms with the dwarf king, and he hoped he didn’t bugger it up so soon.
No, it was… stranger than that.
For Thorin was insistent he pay Bilbo back for his deeds, and that apparently meant giving Bilbo the hand of one of his precious nephews in marriage.
Said nephews were peeking out from behind a tree, eavesdropping, and Bilbo couldn’t help but fidget under all of Durin’s eyes on him. Certainly, they were hoping that Bilbo would turn down the offer, for they couldn’t really want to marry a simple hobbit. A hobbit that had, possibly, fifty years left in his life (maybe a decade longer if he were so lucky) while those boys had roughly two whole centuries each.
“Ah, w-well… Thorin…” Bilbo stuttered softly. “Are… are you sure you want to…? I mean, I’m just a hobbit, and-.”
“And you proved your worth to the company. In fact, you proved yourself several times over.” He explained. “Of course, proving yourself doesn’t win one of my nephews. Saving my life does.”
“Well, okay, but…” Bilbo continued. “I’m… I’m quite old, Thorin. Compared to them, anyway-.”
“Such an age difference is not frowned upon amongst our people.”
“-And I’m not a dwarrow, either-.”
“Unless you were an elf, but you’re not, so that is also not a problem.”
“-And, now Thorin please, I only have fifty years left in my life! A decade more, maybe, and only if I’m lucky!” He rushed out, flushing at the tips of his ears.
“Ah…” Thorin breathed out, and Bilbo saw that Fili and Kili were whispering amongst themselves. “Your lifespan is short…”
Bilbo almost breathed a sigh of relief.
“… But we have overcome such trials many years ago.” Thorin finished, and Bilbo was glad he didn’t. “We have a ceremony that, granted, has not been used for centuries, but it would deal with your... short lifespan.”
Bilbo frowned. “That sounds like something from the elves.”
Thorin coughed at that. “Well, we might’ve… pinched a book… the warrior who did it drank too much mead, and really, they should’ve guarded their books better!”
Bilbo just squeaked as Thorin roared, stiffening straight until Thorin cleared his throat again.
“Nonetheless,” Thorin continued calmly. “Such things are not a concern, unless…”
Thorin then narrowed his eyes at him. “Do my nephews not please you?”
“Wha-? No! Nonono!” Bilbo replied quickly. “No, they’re… lovely, truly lovely. It’s just…”
He took a calming breath before continuing. “I don’t want them to be forced into this.” He explained. “I don’t want either of them to have to choose amongst themselves who’ll be forced to marry me.”
For it was true. Putting the ages aside, Bilbo thought of the boys as lovely, truly lovely, and charming... In their own ways, of course. If either of them held genuine affection towards him, he would happily take the chance at courting them. If it was given to him by them, of course. However, this was certainly not the case. Both the boys couldn’t possibly want some simple hobbit, and they certainly didn’t want to be forced into wedding one.
Thinking of that… well, it left a bitter taste in Bilbo’s mouth.
Thorin seemed confused at that notion before something cleared in his eyes. “I see…” He finally said. “You think they do not wish to be married to you? Even after all you have done?”
“It should not just be my heroic actions that win them over.” Bilbo replied. “It should be for… well, me.”
Saying it out loud caused his ears to pinken, and Thorin hummed to himself.
“And I take it you do not feel worthy of them?”
Now that was like a warg head-butting him full on in the chest. “Well…”
But Thorin didn’t stick around for Bilbo to finish that sentence. Instead, he turned and marched towards his nephews, who scurried off and tried to act as if they had not been trying to hear the entire conversation.
As Thorin spoke with his nephews, Bofur ambled over, curious himself as to what was occurring.
“What’s this then?” He asked, staring at the three royals by the tree.
“I’m asking myself the very same question, Bofur.” He remarked, watching the two nephews narrow their eyes at their uncle in confusion as he spoke to them. “I really don’t see why he feels the need to do this.”
“Do what?” Bofur asked, watching the nephews as well, before a sly grin spread over his face. “Ah, I see.”
Bilbo blinked, turning to the dwarf. “What? What is it?” He asked, looking between the four dwarrows. “Am I missing something?”
“You might, but it might not be my place to say.” Bofur remarked slowly.
“Bofur, I have a feeling that if you don’t, no one will.” Bilbo told him flatly. “If you could please-.”
“Alright, alright.” Bofur said, relenting. “You see, the young masters over there are… well, they’re young. They’re not old enough to court on their own yet. In similar cases, if a young dwarrow has found their beloved and wishes to court them, the head of their family has to approve of their intended first, or intendeds, and then the elder has to court their intended for them.”
“I don’t see how that applies to my situation.” Bilbo replied, brow furrowed. “Thorin isn’t letting them choose their intended. He’s making them choose me.”
Bofur sent Bilbo a look. “Bilbo, lad,” He stated slowly. “Have you not noticed how those boys seem to be utterly smitten with you?”
Now Bilbo’s brows lifted to his hairline. “No.”
“Those boys have been fighting over you since day one.” Bofur laughed out. “And they’ve been trying to convince Thorin to let one of them have you, but he hasn’t approved of you until now.”
“S-So…” Bilbo stuttered, mind spinning. “What you’re saying… is that… they’re…”
“They’re trying to burgle a burglar, yes.” Bofur replied cheekily. “Thorin wouldn’t be offering if they didn’t, you know. Loves those boys too much.”
Bilbo felt his heart stutter, even as he watched the nephews have a hissing argument with Thorin, whose arms were crossed.
“But…” Bilbo muttered. “But I’m just a hobbit.”
“When it comes to love, we dwarrows are fairly open-minded.” Bofur explained, wincing as the nephews switched from arguing with their uncle to arguing with themselves. “So long as it’s not an elf one’s after, or an orc, it’s fine. As for heirs, I’m sure one or the other, the one who isn’t matched with you, can produce an heir just fine. Unless, of course, you’re hiding something…”
The way Bofur smirked at him caused Bilbo to flush all over. “Please don’t tell me you assume…”
“We’ve never encountered hobbits, but we’ve heard stories.” The miner explained. “Like how the men can bear children.”
“That is preposterous!” Bilbo snapped. “Where do you hear such things?”
“Travellers who claim to seeing that a hobbit ran off with a man, both of the same gender, and they reared children.” Bofur explained. “That’s what they put together, anyway.”
“Ah…” Bilbo muttered softly. “W-Well, that must’ve been one of my Took cousins… B-But the men can’t bear children like that! It’s… it’s only with the Tooks, and… it’s really the other way around…”
Bofur’s eyes widened as Bilbo looked away, ignoring the raised voices coming from the royals. “Pardon?”
“The Tooks…” Bilbo continued awkwardly. “They… well, we… can give anyone child… anyone.”
“Seriously?” Bofur asked, genuinely curious. “Even you, Bilbo?”
Bilbo had a humorous thought and he grinned. “Oh, yes.” He replied, nodding solemnly. “I’m sure that one of you could touch my foot brush and become heavy with child.”
Bofur reeled back in shock, paling slightly and looking at his hands, but Bilbo only laughed.
“I’m joking, friend.” He replied, putting a hand on Bofur’s shoulder and causing the poor dwarf to jump. “It’s true, but not that easy.”
Bofur relaxed at the news, but they both jumped when they heard Thorin snarl and his nephews squawk. They turned and saw Thorin walking over, dragging Fili and Kili over by their coats.
“That’s it.” He groused, shoving the two into Bilbo’s personal space. “Burglar, you can have them both.”
With those words, Thorin stomped off, leaving the four of them to stare awkwardly at each other. Apparently, the King Under the Mountain thought better of it, for he paused before turning around and dragging a confused Bofur away with him.
“I’m sorry…” Bilbo muttered. “But… Did he just say… Both?”
Said brothers exchanged looks before looking at the hobbit.
“Is it true what they say about hobbits and that they can bear-?”
“It’s the other way around.” Bilbo corrected quickly, tired of such an embarrassing misunderstanding. Now the young ones blushed, and Bilbo bit back a grin of his own. They were quite charming when they did that.
But he honestly had no idea what he was going to do with two husbands. The Took in him crowed in delight at such a fantasy come to life, but the Baggins in him was fretting. Would it work? Could it work? Would they really want to split their time with such a hobbit? Would he be willing to do the same?
Bilbo’s ears pinkened as they stared at him with a heated look. Apparently, Bofur wasn’t kidding when they said they wanted him. That much was clear as they stared at him before whispering to each other.
It seemed they finally came to an agreement, for they nodded sharply before rounding on Bilbo.
“We’re willing if you are.” Fili replied. “However-.”
“-We’re not doing anything to each other.” Kili cut in as Fili nodded.
“We’re brothers, after all-.”
“-And that would be wrong.”
“Oh, uh…” Bilbo muttered when he realized it was his turn to say something. “Of course, of course. Um… if… if you really wish to settle… to have me as your own. Both of yours, then… I accept.”
The next thing Bilbo knew, he became the squishy meat in a hobbit-dwarrow sandwich. The young brothers plastered themselves on either side of him, nuzzling at his ears in a way that made his big toes curl into the soil. When they ceased such actions, they looked down at him with such a dark look that he was so sure he would've collapsed if it weren't for their strong grip.
“Shall we play conkers, Mister Boggins?”