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Thorin gasped for air as he startled out of sleep, feeling as though he had been falling. He scrambled to his feet and frantically whipped around, bewildered by his surroundings. Why was he in a forest? Hadn't he been asleep in his bed?
Squatting down, he placed a hand on the ground and felt the soft, cold earth against his hands. He grabbed a handful of dead leaves and crunched them, watching as the fragments dispersed. No, this was definitely real. Somehow, he was here, wherever 'here' may be. He reached for his sword, but found that he had nothing on his person, other than the robe he had donned before bed. This must be a dream, then. Thorin stood still for a moment, listening for any sound or sign of life. Nothing.
He found a low-hanging branch and broke it off, shoving it in the ground near the spot where he had woken up. It wouldn't hurt to mark it, just in case. With that, he walked in the direction he thought was north. The atmosphere was heavy and dream-like, a blue mist swirling away from him at each step he took. He could barely see in front of him, so he walked slowly, hands poised in front of him to break impact against any unexpected objects.
As he walked, a voice sounded in the distance, like the tinkling of bells. He whirled around, desperate to find the source. "Is someone there?" he called, hearing no answer in return. He froze for a moment, waiting to hear the sound again. Nothing.
Thorin took another step towards the hypothetical north and heard it again. It sounded almost like laughter. Another step forward brought him another peal of tiny laughter. Was this a game?
He tentatively stepped to what he supposed was east, and the laughter stopped. Moving back towards the north, the creature sounded again. He tried each direction before determining that, no, the creature was not playing a game. They clearly wanted him to travel in his original direction. What's the worst that could happen? A large creature could not be making such a wonderful sound, after all. He was capable of defending himself without a weapon, if need be.
"Alright, alright. I'm coming, little one." Thorin's voice was amused as he continued in his original direction. The laughter became his constant companion for what could have been mere minutes or days. Time did not feel the same in this forest. Suddenly, the laughter stopped and he paused before trying each direction. The direction he supposed was east brought back the laughter, and he continued in this manner, switching directions to appease the creature. It was all rather amusing. It reminded him of the games Fíli and Kíli would come up with when they were pebbles.
Out of the mist appeared a clearing of trees, with a pond nestled in the far corner. The mist danced over the glass-like surface, and he felt himself drawn to the peaceful water. Thorin knelt at the edge and peered in, finding himself looking at a face that was not his own. It was a child's.
He blinked a few times. Surely he was going insane. He clenched his eyes shut before looking again, but the face was still there. His actions elicited laughter from the child, and Thorin recognized it as the voice that had led him through the forest.
"Who are you, child?" His voice was barely a whisper, for he feared the answer. The child's eyes were a dead giveaway. "Sienna," she responded, smiling up at Thorin as if she knew him. Sienna did know him, though. She had the eyes of a Durin, and the quirk of her lips and slope of her nose were identical to a certain hobbit he'd grown to love.
Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Thorin offered his daughter a wobbly smile. "How old are you?" Sienna held up six fingers. "I'll be seven in three weeks! Adad's gonna make me a big cake, with lots of strawberries inside!"
"Who's your Adad, Sienna?" He already knew the answer, but he just had to be sure.
She grinned, as if he had said the funniest thing in the world. "Adad Bilbo, of course!" Of course. As if he had a chance with their burglar. Throughout their journey, Thorin had been nothing but cold towards the hobbit. After some time, he grew to accept that the apprehension he felt around the outsider might have been attraction rather than disdain. In the aftermath of the reclamation of Erebor, they had grown close. Close enough that Thorin had dared to hope as he had never hoped before. It was all for naught, though, as Bilbo intended to return to the Shire at the week's end. His One was lost to him.
He reached out to touch the surface of the water, wishing he could get closer to his child. The water rippled around his finger, washing away the mirage of his child. Thorin felt something clammy wrap around his hand, and he struggled before he found himself pulled head first into the pond.
Thorin sat up in bed, chest heaving as he gulped at the air. He wasn't drowning. He was safe. Sienna was nowhere to be seen, and her laughter did not fill the stagnant mountain air. Stumbling out of bed, Thorin rushed to the bathroom and dry heaved over the chamberpot, emptying the contents of his stomach as he sobbed. He'd been lucky enough to get a glimpse into his future, a future that would never happen. Bilbo would be leaving soon. It was far too late.
After cleaning himself up, Thorin dressed and headed to his office. It may have been three in the morning, but he could not imagine going back to sleep after what he saw.
* * *
Thorin did not sleep for the next two nights, for fear of seeing his unborn daughter in that mystical forest. Balin and Dwalin discussed their concerns privately, but said nothing until the third day, when Dwalin had enough of Thorin's behavior.
"Alright, what's goin' on, lad? You've been on edge for days now." Dwalin grabbed his shoulders and forced him to make eye contact with him. He knew Thorin was a bad liar and used it to his full advantage.
Thorin growled and shoved past his cousin. "Mind your own business, Dwalin."
"It is my business. You're the King." Dwalin grabbed him arm and forced him to turn around. "You need to be honest. We can't help you if you won't tell us what's wrong."
"He's right, laddie. We're here for you." Balin put a hand on his shoulder, eyes filled with concern.
"Fine." Thorin shook off Dwalin's arm. "I had a dream, or maybe a vision three nights ago. I saw my child."
Dwalin and Balin's jaws dropped. "Your child, laddie? Who is—"
"Bilbo is the father." Thorin grimaced as his relatives gasped.
"What in Mahal's name is wrong with you? Why haven't you told him?" Dwalin shook his head in disbelief.
Thorin just glared at him. "Oh, what do you want me to say, 'I had a dream that we got married and had a daughter, so now I want you to give up your home and your freedom to live here and marry me, a man you feel nothing for.' Think that'll work, Dwalin?"
"Well, I hadn't thought of it like that…" Dwalin muttered, looking to his feet.
Balin shook his head in disbelief. "You can't give up so easily, Thorin. This is your future you're talking about!"
"We don't know that it would actually happen. It felt so real, but dreams are like that sometimes." Thorin silenced his relatives with a sharp look before continuing back to his chambers. "I'm going to sleep. Do not disturb me."
With that, Thorin stormed down the hallway, dark blue robes billowing behind him.
* * *
Thorin woke up in the dream forest again, much to his dismay. Brushing off his backside, he stood and looked around, observing the drastic changes in the environment with no small amount of dread. Instead of being covered by a hazy blue mist, the forest was scorched. Smoke curled from the charred trees, and ash billowed in the sky. Fire had always been triggering for him since the attack on Erebor, and this was no different. He felt his chest seize with a visceral fear, one that seemed to wrap its calloused hands around his throat and squeeze until he was on his knees gasping for breath.
Sienna. He panicked, thinking of his little girl all alone in the midst of the destruction. "Sienna!" He shouted, hearing only the crackling of flame in return. He ran in the direction he thought the pond was in, dodging the charred tree trunks and branches that crashed to the ground along his path. He called for his daughter again and again, voice hoarse from the smoke and ash he'd inhaled.
Finally, he found the pond, but it too had changed. Instead of being the peaceful escape it once was, this pond's surface danced with flames. Thorin didn't hesitate before diving in. He knew it was just a dream, and he wouldn't receive any real wounds. He felt the scorch of the flames as they licked his skin, phantasmic as they were. "Sienna!" he choked out once more, before his mind and vision both failed him.
* * *
Thorin felt burning tears run down his cheeks when he finally came to. Despite the relief at not being burned alive, fear was still consuming him. He hadn't been able to find his child. What if he never saw her again? In that moment, he knew what he had to do, selfish as it was. Thorin had never been selfish, being the oldest sibling of an exiled royal family. He'd never gotten to pursue romance, indulge in hobbies, or do anything normal people did. If this was his one chance in life to be selfish, he refused to let it pass him by.
Throwing on a robe, Thorin rushed down the hall to Bilbo's room. He rapped on the door frantically, foot tapping impatiently as he waited for the door to open. Nothing happened. He knocked again, louder this time. The door on the other side of the hall opened, revealing a half-awake Ori and Fíli. He would have to address that another time.
"King Thorin? What's going on?" Ori's voice was rough with sleep. Fíli moved past him to put a hand on Thorin's shoulder. "Irak'adad, are you okay?"
"No, I am not okay! I need to talk to Bilbo. It's urgent." Thorin felt his voice rising as he grew more frantic. "Why isn't he answering?"
Ori looked like a deer in headlights. "I figured he let everyone know he was leaving… He didn't want to make a big scene for all of Erebor to see, so he left this morning, about an hour ago. He wanted to head out before dawn." Fíli looked at his partner in shock. "He didn't say anything to me…"
Thorin felt his throat tighten with despair. "He's gone? Just like that?"
"I heard him leave about an hour ago. If you hurry you can catch up to him." Ori's brows knit in sympathy. "I think he will want to hear what you have to say, Your Majesty. Go to him."
With that, Thorin turned and sprinted down the hall in the direction of the stables. The attendants had not arrived to work for the day, so he quickly saddled up his pony and raced down the dirt path. He pushed his pony as fast as he could go, promising extra treats upon their return to Erebor.
It was nearly an hour later when he caught up to the hobbit, who was simply standing in the vibrant meadow that painted the foothills of the mountain, just staring up at the sky. Restoring the natural environment around the mountain had been Bilbo's passion project in the four years since the mountain was reclaimed, and Thorin knew how much it meant to him. He dismounted and walked towards him hesitantly, mist swirling around him as he moved.
"Bilbo, I can't believe you didn't say goodbye."
The hobbit whirled around, eyes wide with terror before being replaced by irritation. "God, Thorin. You can't just sneak up on someone like that. What are you doing here?"
Thorin simply gazed at the hobbit, committing the sight of him to memory. His golden curls moved lazily in the breeze, and his face was illuminated gold by the rising sun. Bilbo's cheeks were flushed from being nipped by the brisk early spring air, and he was bundled up in the traveling cloak that Thorin had gifted him as a courting gift, and it was bittersweet to see his One wearing it after everything that had occurred between them.
"I couldn't let you leave without saying farewell," Thorin spoke slowly, hesitating over his choice of words. "Even if you don't want to hear it, I must speak the truth."
"The truth? What on earth could you mean by that?" Bilbo immediately grew defensive, causing Thorin to bristle. "What truth could you possibly have to speak, Thorin Oakenshield? Your true feelings have been clear, and I will not stay where I am not wanted."
"Not wanted? What do you—"
Bilbo rolled his eyes. "You think your feelings are well-disguised? What a joke. I've been tiptoeing around you for weeks since I made you dinner that night."
"What does dinner have to do with anything? You told me you were leaving Erebor the next morning. Of course I've been in a foul mood." Hobbit logic was nothing short of confusing for Thorin, and he felt his temper rising.
"You made it clear you didn't want me here at dinner. I can take a hint, Thorin."
"You don't need to leave Erebor," Thorin practically growled. Well-spoken was not a phrase he would use to describe himself, and something about Bilbo made it even harder for him to speak eloquently, much less stay level-headed.
"What do you want from me, Thorin? I don't understand you!" Bilbo stamped his foot in frustration, cheeks flushing in anger. "You act like you don't care when I tell you I'm going home, and then chase me down when I actually do leave? Give me one good reason why I should stay here in Erebor."
"I want you, Bilbo." Thorin felt himself scowling at the hobbit, and he ran a hand over his face in an attempt to school his expression. "I wish to marry you."
Bilbo's mouth opened in shock, and it took him a few beats to find his footing. When he finally spoke, his voice was shrill. "You want me?! As if I am an object for you to keep, a prize for your coffers or your dragon's hoard—"
"I do not wish to marry you because I wish to possess you. I wish to marry you because I love you! More than you could possibly know." Thorin's chest was heaving, voice raised far above what was acceptable in polite society. "I have seen a glimpse of our future, and I want it more than anything in the world. I would give up everything if needed, all to be with you."
"What?"
"I love you."
"You… love me?"
Thorin stared at him in bewilderment. "What did you think the cloak was, then? Or the seeds for your garden on the terrace? Or the mithril?"
"Gifts?" Bilbo looked up at him in confusion. "Were they not gifts?"
"Courting gifts, yes. I assumed you knew, and simply ignored my advances. After three gifts, I had my answer." Thorin took a step towards him and stood there for a moment before hesitantly putting a hand to his cheek. Bilbo's eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into his touch, causing Thorin's breath to hitch.
"And what did you think dinner was, Thorin?" Bilbo whispered, barely audible above Thorin's pounding heart.
"What was dinner, Bilbo?"
"A confession." He looked back up at Thorin, a single tear trailing down his cheek, glinting gold in the morning sun. "I prepared a meal of all your favorite foods, and you didn't acknowledge my feelings. I knew then that I couldn't stay any longer. It would be too painful, after years of pining."
Thorin's mouth was agape. "Do you mean to tell me that you love me too?"
"I thought it was obvious!" Bilbo took another step towards Thorin, until their bodies were within a hair's breadth of each other. "You love me."
"I do." Thorin snaked an arm around Bilbo's waist, pulling him flush against him. There had never been a happier moment in his life, he thought, other than the birth of his nephews. He gazed at Bilbo in awestruck wonder. "I love you."
A strangled sound escaped Bilbo's lips, and he grabbed Thorin's collar and pulled him down for a kiss. There was nothing gentle about the kiss, given that they had been pining after each other for half a decade. Their lips moved desperately against one another's, as if to commit the feeling to memory. Thorin was the first to break the kiss, pressing his forehead against Bilbo's and gazing into his half-lidded eyes with pure adoration. "I am without a doubt the luckiest dwarf in the world, Bilbo." His voice was hoarse with emotion. "I have something else to tell you, though."
Thorin broke apart from Bilbo and sat down, motioning for the hobbit to join him. "I had a vision, or at least I think that's what it was." Bilbo's eyes widened, and he hesitated before he spoke.
"Was it Sienna?"
Thorin's heart seemed to stop completely in that moment. "You saw her too? How could you leave after seeing her?" Bilbo simply sighed. "It's not like there's any chance of her being brought into this world, Thorin. I assumed it was a dream brought on by my one-sided longing for you."
"Bilbo…" Thorin hesitated, throat constricting. It was not often he needed to tell someone of his history, and even after a century, confessing his secret was no easier than it had been at the beginning. "I was born a dwarrowdam, Bilbo. I have the ability to carry a child."
Bilbo's eyes widened in comprehension and his eyes welled with tears. "So we have a chance, then? To see Sienna again?" His cheeks reddened at the implication of his words. "Not right away, of course! Just… Someday we could be parents?"
Thorin nodded and pressed a kiss to his One's temple. "We will be parents. For now, though, I would like you to come back home and accept me as your suitor. The rest can be figured out later." Bilbo nodded and rested a head on Thorin's shoulder. "I'd like that very much."
* * *
Five years later found Thorin and Bilbo welcoming their daughter into the world. She would grow up with twelve doting uncles and an aunt who was determined to be her best friend in the entire world. Thorin was holding their newborn in his arms, head resting on Bilbo's shoulder. Their little family surrounded the bed and watched with adoration as the little princess opened her Durin-blue eyes for the first time and observed the world around her.
"What is her name, laddies?" Balin's eyes were shining with tears as his gnarled hands unrolled the parchment for the royal birth announcement.
"Sienna."