Chapter Text
Dwalin couldn’t fight the smile on her face as she gazed around the room. The room that would belong to her child. Despite the short notice, it was properly furnished and filled with clothes, toys, and all the essentials they would need. The fact that most of it came from their neighbors also pleased her, and spoke of how well they were fitting in, despite the not-so-friendly welcome that they had.
She did not have to worry too much about being shunned by the hobbit community. Sure, there were plenty that still fled her presence when she was out and about, usually with Bilbo, but there were plenty more that were more than willing to come up and converse. It helped that she was pregnant, for many of the women would coo at her and giggle at her round form and, though it did annoy her at times, it caused warmth to spread through her more often than not. Even the children seemed to like her, and many parents were shocked at how good she was with them. No one touched her, though, and for that she was thankful. For there was one thing she would not tolerate, and that was anyone, hobbit or no, touching her swollen belly. Except Bilbo, of course. In fact, she encouraged it whenever the mood seemed to strike him, carding her fingers through his hair when he’d bend over to press an ear to her belly to listen to their babe kick and move. Even urging his hand to her belly when the kicks became rather strong and insistent.
There wasn’t much walking about these days, however. For it was over eight months since she first discovered that she was with child.
They were both on edge, for the birth of their child could be any day, now. At first, Dwalin hated how Bilbo would insist that she stay home most of the time, feeling cloistered and caged like an animal. But even she had to admit that she was far too tired to do much these days. Bilbo didn’t go far, anyhow, usually staying home and sticking as close to her side as possible. She almost wanted to toss her husband outside for such things, but she didn’t even want to think about what would happen if her labor pains started and he was off at the market, of all places.
“What are you doing?”
Dwalin bit back a curse. It should also be noted that Bilbo didn’t like her walking about too much period.
She merely sent him an innocent look. “I was just looking.” She explained, and Bilbo just sent her a look. “Can you blame me? It’s sometimes hard to believe that it’s so close. That we’re about to have a family of our own.”
Something in Bilbo’s eyes softened as he approached her, tucking himself into her side. “I know.” He told her softly, staring wistfully at the empty crib in front of them. “But you know what the local doctor said. You need your rest!”
“Bilbo, I’ve spent most of my life hunting orcs, goblins, and fighting for my king and kingdom.” Dwalin explained blandly. “I might be walking about, but trust me: I am resting right now.”
Bilbo snorted, and Dwalin couldn’t resist combing her fingers through his hair. She never could for long, anyway. “Well, hopefully they’ll be here, soon.” He told her. “Then you can go gallivanting as much as you’d like, so long as you return home before dinner.”
Dwalin snorted, kissing his forehead before walking (she did not waddle) out of the room. “I just want him here. Now, preferably.”
“Are you that excited to see our little one?”
“I just want him out of me!” She corrected, causing Bilbo to snort as he followed her out of the room and down the hallway. “He’s had enough fun kicking my organs, bouncing about and making me lose meals and visit the privy constantly. And don’t you laugh! You’re not the one who’s had to carry him around in your womb for eight months going on nine!”
“Well, pardon!” He soothed. “And why call it a he? They could be a girl, for all you know.”
“I hate calling him an ‘it’.” She explained, ignoring the pang at the mere thought of it being a girl. “And I’m a dwarf, Bilbo, love. The chances of him being a girl are slim.”
And though it was true, Dwalin couldn’t help but want it to be a girl. She’d love a son equally as much, but there was something about a girl that seemed more precious. There was the thought of teaching a daughter how to defend herself and not solely rely on men to come save you that pleased her. Plus there was the thought of Bilbo, her lovely Bilbo, being as fierce and as protective of their little girl as he was of her that tickled her. Of course, it always tickled her when Bilbo was that way about her, but not in the innocent sense of the word.
In fact, even now, thinking of his flushing cheeks, sparkling eyes that glared like daggers, and how he’d puff himself up in such a way; it stirred her loins and caused her to pause. Nothing thrilled her more than her husband fierce, and she had thrown him onto many flat surfaces because of it. And she wanted to now. Oh, how she wanted to.
“You want to know what I’m most excited about, at this moment, about the babe being born?” She asked, rounding on her husband, and she had no idea that her voice could sound so quite so hoarse.
Bilbo must’ve sensed it as well, because his ears went a dusky pink and his eyes darkened. “What is it?” He croaked.
“That I’ll finally be able to have you in our bed, in any way I want. Flexibility and all.” She purred, and she watched as Bilbo’s throat bobbed.
“You have always been quite… flexible-!” Bilbo whispered, startling when his back hit a wall, for Dwalin had been slowly herding him there since she turned to him. “Dwalin, love, it might not be good for the baby, what we’re-!”
Dwalin hushed him with a kiss, feeling warmth rush through her as her husband whined against her lips and feeling his fingers latch onto what parts of her he could reach. She settled for cupping her hands onto the nape of his neck, guiding his lips to her own as she devoured him.
“There’s nothing wrong with a little fun, love. And I’ve known plenty of dames who have done more sinful things than we could imagine well up until they gave birth.” She growled against him, humming as his hands grasped her hips, and she wished she could press closer. “If anything, it might bring it on quicker. Just please-!”
It was Dwalin’s turn to get cut off now, for Bilbo had surged up and sealed their lips together with such a roughness that it almost made her knees buckle. He felt his tiny hands knead at her bum, and she growled, wishing she could properly embrace her husband without the swelling of life growing inside of her to keep them apart.
Her growl only got louder when there was a knock at the door.
Bilbo pulled off, and Dwalin was sure that no treasure in Erebor could equate to the beauty that was her husband at that moment. “Who could be-?”
“Just ignore them.” She snarled, sealing her lips over Bilbo’s pulse and wringing out the most delightful whimper. “They’ll go away.”
“It is truly unbecoming of you, sister!” A dreadfully familiar voice called loudly from the other side of Bilbo’s door after a moment of playing ignorant. “To be ignoring visitors. Let alone family!”
They had opposite reactions to that voice. Dwalin’s was to groan and curse Mahal. Bilbo’s was to light up with glee.
“I can’t-! Can you believe-!” He stammered, and Dwalin knew that trying to call them away would do no good.
So Dwalin peeled herself away from her husband and followed him in a more sedate pace as he rushed to the door. She only paused when she heard the door open and two other voices rang out cries of joy, and it was only to roll her eyes at the situation her Maker had thought to put her in.
“Fíli! Kíli!” She heard Bilbo sputter out. “Good gracious, boys! It’s good to see you!”
“At your service, Mister Boggins!” Kíli cried happily.
“As always!” Fíli cut in with a more sedate tone. “And I’m afraid you’ll never get him to correct that. We’ve been trying to correct him since he was little, and it’s never worked.”
“Oy!”
“He better correct it.” Dwalin groused as she finally entered the entrance hall. “For his name is now my own.”
There were a number of familiar faces at their door. Fíli, Kíli, and Balin were expected, as she had heard them, but it was quite the shock to see Dori, Ori, and Oin of all people, standing there as well. Bofur, of course, wasn’t that shocking. He was a true friend to Bilbo on their quest. Though why any of them would show up seemingly out of the blue was beyond her. That is, it was, up until Balin approached her, eyes glistening and smiling wider than she had ever seen.
“My, sister.” He breathed. “It looks like you’re the wide one, now.”
Dwalin snorted. “You’re still shorter.”
“And smarter for the both of us.” Balin finished, putting a solid hand on her arm. “Mahal, you’re glowing brighter than the Arkenstone itself! I haven’t seen such a sight since your wedding day.”
Dwalin couldn’t help but beam at her brother, grasping his shoulders and smacking their foreheads together. Despite the interruption, it was good to see her brother again, and in such good health. Though, really, saying that she was glowing on her wedding day. It was wonderful, and she had never been happier, but amongst the ruins of a freshly reclaimed Erebor after a great battle, anything could’ve glowed that day. Even an orc.
“I will never get used to that.”
Dwalin looked up at Bilbo and shared a small smile, even as he was being cornered by Dori and an excited Ori as Fíli and Kíli moved to her.
“Master Dwalin!” Kíli gaped. “Mahal, you’ve grown f-!”
Fíli cut his brother off with a good smack upside the head, and Dwalin merely quirked an eyebrow at the two brothers.
“What my brother means to say is that you’ve grown fairly lovely since we last saw you.” Fíli filled in as Kíli glared at him.
Dwalin snorted at the poor cover up, but decided to let it go. “Well, as pleased as I am to see you all…” She stated. “What brings you so far from Erebor?”
“We came to celebrate the birth of my future nephew.” Balin explained. “Do we really need an excuse to visit?”
“Some warning would’ve been appreciated.” Bilbo explained, hanging up an armful of cloaks. “We hardly have anything in the pantry at the moment. I was just going to head to the market, but, er… we got caught up in… discussing important matters…”
Dwalin couldn’t fight the smirk donning her face as her husband flushed. She always delighted in riling her hobbit up, even moreso when Balin rolled his own eyes and seemed to be fighting off a groan. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been mentally scarred herself whenever she’d have to witness her brother try to woo some poor, unsuspecting dwarrow. It was payback, though it seemed to be equally shared when Balin had started courting Dori once things had settled in Erebor before she left with Bilbo to go back to the Shire.
“I believe, Balin,” Said dwarf finally cut in. “That you have certain things to bestow…?”
“Oh, yes! Of course!” Balin agreed, beaming at Dori, even as Bilbo paused in his fussing over tea and biscuits and whether or not they had enough. “Boys, bring it in!”
The young Durin brothers groaned as they left the hobbit hole once again, gaining curious glances from both Bilbo and Dwalin respectably.
“What’s all this?” Bilbo had asked. “You didn’t have to bring anything! Especially when it’s got those boys in such a strop!”
“They’ve handled heftier things, and it would be unbecoming of me not to gift something to my sister, and to my brother-in-law!” Balin replied, giving Bilbo’s shoulder a hardy pat. “Well, hurry up, boys! Put your backs into it!”
As they grunted and groaned, shuffling back inside, Dwalin could understand why they had appeared so miserable at the mere thought of bringing the gift inside. For they hefted in a large, heavy, extravagant-looking birthing chair.
It was a tall, gilded with gold and enlaid with polished rock and precious stones. The seat was cushioned with, thankfully, an easy-to-clean leather, and it was carved with the traditional runes that spoke of fertility and new life.
In all honesty, it looked like a glorified privy chair, in Dwalin’s honest opinion.
Her mind then supplied horrid images of Thorin using such a chair, and she tried to shake such thoughts out of her head. She did not want to think of her friend doing such things, and she certainly did not want to even imagine giving birth whilst sitting on that golden throne.
Bilbo, it seemed, also had such thoughts. But he was gracious, if anything, and hid his distaste flawlessly.
“Oh… wow…” Bilbo breathed in a high, breathy pitch that Dwalin knew spoke of different things altogether, and she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from laughing. “That’s- That’s a really… You shouldn’t have…!”
“Think nothing of it, dear boy!” Balin assured, and Dwalin snickered at how her brother was quite dim when it came to subtlety. “Now, where would you like us to put it?”
“Ah…” Bilbo muttered. “W-Well… Dwalin, where would you like it, sweetheart?”
Dwalin covered up her snort with a cough, for Bilbo hardly ever called her such a name. Flower, yes. Precious, certainly. And things like love-bug and buttercup when he was feeling extra soppy, sometimes. But sweetheart only cropped up when he was particularly uncomfortable.
She was half tempted to tell them to put it in the privy where it belonged, herself, but even she could realize how rude that would be.
“Put it in the babe’s room.” She finally replied. “If you’ll follow me-.”
“I’ll show them.” Bilbo cut in, stepping around and laying a gentle hand on one of Dwalin’s arms. “You can entertain them until we come back.”
“Is it far?” Fíli asked in a strained voice, and Dwalin felt a little concerned over his brother’s face that was slowly turning into a tomato.
“No, not far.” Bilbo explained. “Just follow me.”
“You mind if I tag along?” Bofur asked, holding up a large sack. “Bifur and I made toys for the little one.”
“Do you mind if I see them, first?” Dwalin asked, genuinely curious, and Bofur just grinned at her, passing the bag over. “Boys, put the chair down, for now. Before you hurt yourselves.”
The brothers immediately followed her orders, breathing in huge gulps of air that spoke of their relief. Dwalin immediately began to rifle through the bag as she felt Bilbo lean around her arm to get a look himself.
Inside was a lovely array of toys. There were metal birds and dragons that could move if you spun a crank. Soft, plushy animals made from fine fabrics and furs. The one thing that pleased her the most, however, were the wooden figurines carved and painted to look like the company. She rather enjoyed Bilbo’s figurine and how small it looked compared to her own. One thing bothered her a little, though.
“These are lovely, Bofur! Thank you!” Bilbo breathed, beaming at his friend. “Be sure to thank Bifur, as well.”
Bofur flushed at his friend’s words. “Oh, think nothing of it. It’s not every day you can make something for your friends and their family.”
“They are lovely, and the little one will appreciate them. But…” Dwalin muttered, finally voicing her issue as she held up her figurine. “Why is my beard blue?”
Bofur barked a laugh. “That’s Bifur’s handiwork.” He explained. “He was in charge of most of the painting. You should see Thorin’s, though. He’s got yellow boots!”
Bilbo immediately went for Thorin’s, and they both shared a laugh at the King’s bright footwear.
“Well, thank you very much.” Bilbo said as Dwalin closed the bag up. “They’ll love them. Truly. We’ll put them in the room as well. Boys?”
Dwalin allowed herself a laugh as the boys groaned, hoisting the chair up and following Bilbo and Bofur down the hall. Dori seemed to kick a fuss at their movements, and went to follow as well so as to make sure that they didn’t break anything, dragging Ori along with him.
Dwalin waited for them to disappear before she rounded on her brother. “I noticed that Bofur’s been sporting some fancy clasps in his hair.” She spoke, seeing Balin’s grin broadened. “I take it he’s finally asked?”
“Indeed.” Balin answered. “Now that Erebor is reclaimed, and our people are returning home, our King has decided to make Bofur an honest man.”
Something in Dwalin softened at the news. “And how is our king?”
“He is well.” Balin replied easily, and Dwalin felt confident that her brother was speaking the truth. “He’s busy, so he could not remove himself to visit, but he asked us to pass on his blessings.”
“I’m glad.” Dwalin spoke, resting a hand on her swollen middle. “Truly, I am.”
Balin’s eyes were bright again. “I know, and I’m pleased that you’re doing so well, and that Bilbo is taking care of you.”
“We take care of each other.” Dwalin corrected.
Balin chuckled. “Oh, yes. I can tell.” He replied, and Dwalin barked a laugh at her brother’s wording. “You have grown, sister, and I’m pleased. Who would think that such a life here would bring you such happiness?”
Dwalin hummed at that, pressing her hand gently onto her swollen belly when the babe started to move.
“And to think,” Balin spoke after a pause. “That, if it weren’t for Bilbo, your life would be so-.”
“Dwalin!”
Dwalin couldn’t fight the relief she felt when they returned, Kíli leading the charge with a bright smile on his face. She didn’t want such foolish things to be brought up. Well, foolish was a strong word, but she couldn’t think of anything else to label what could’ve happened if Bilbo never made that first move in those dark woods. Of course, Kíli wasn’t the one who spoke up, but rather the aforementioned hobbit himself.
“Everything’s settled, so I’m going to pop over to the market before the stalls close.” He continued. “Will you be alright here?”
“I think I can manage.” Dwalin replied, grinning at her husband’s eye roll and bowing down so he could nudge their foreheads together.
“Do you mind if I tag along, Mister Baggins?” Ori piped up. “I never got the chance to look around the last time we were here.”
“Certainly! Can never have too many hands to help out!” Bilbo replied as he got his overcoat. “And it’s Bilbo, Ori. Please.”
“We want to go, too!” Kíli called out as his brother grabbed their cloaks, and Dwalin snorted. Of course they’d go, since everyone their age was heading out.
“Alright, but no causing trouble! Bad enough Dwalin started some the moment we arrived.” Bilbo announced, and Dwalin cringed at her brother’s gaze. “We won’t be long!”
“Really, Dwalin…” Balin chastised as soon as they left.
“In my defense.” She groused. “They were trying to steal his home clear out from under him. He wasn’t lying when he told us stories of his cousin Lobelia.”
There seemed to be a collective shudder through the remaining dwarrows in Bag End, for they recalled Bilbo’s tales of the Shire, and of his family, very well.
“Well!” Dori finally announced. “I think this calls for some tea. Balin, would you mind…?”
“Of course not!” Balin replied, and Dwalin rolled her eyes as his brother immediately shifted his attentions to his intended. “I do hope he still has that chamomile.”
Dwalin was about to follow, but she froze when she felt a strong hand grip her arm. She tensed, ready to fight it off, but fought down her kneejerk reaction when she saw Oin staring up at her with hard eyes.
“If you don’t mind, Dwalin.” Oin spoke in his usual loud tone. “I’d like to check you over. Make sure everything’s going as it should with you and the child.”
Dwalin groaned. “You’re going to be poking and prodding me under my skirt, aren’t you?”
“What?”
“I said ‘very well’!” Dwalin shouted into his ear trumpet, causing him to reel back a little. “Now, follow me.”
With that, Dwalin lead Oin back to the bedroom she shared with her husband, for if she had to go through yet another exam of her belly and personal regions, she would rather do it in comfort.
She just rather wished she could’ve joined her husband.
“Alright, then!” Oin called as he followed her. “Waddle along!”
“I do not waddle!”