Archive of Our Own ^beta

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!”

Chapter Text

“Everything seems to be just fine.”

Dwalin couldn’t help but let herself sag with relief at those words, for despite consulting with a local, hobbit doctor who was surprisingly knowledgeable of dwarrows and their anatomy, it was good to hear it from a man who had treated her on numerous occasions. Whom she knew better.

She immediately pulled her skirt over her legs before hoisting herself up into a sitting position, allowing Oin to help pull her up when it was a struggle. She was never a fan of dresses and skirts to begin with, but she really had no choice when the child continued to grow. The only good thing about wearing them was that there was a slight freedom to it.

She could also do without needing to have someone help her up. She hated being forced to wake Bilbo if she was feeling peckish, or thirsty, or she need to once again visit the privy. She truly just hated having to rely on anyone to help her with such simple things as getting out of bed.

“There is one thing, however.” Oin continued, adjusting his ear horn and causing Dwalin to freeze. “The child… for eight moons, they seem rather small…”

Dwalin just scoffed. “He’s half hobbit.” She explained with a loud voice. “He’s bound to be small.”

Oin nodded then. “Ah, well.” He said, allowing Dwalin to stand up on her own, merely watching as she tried to work the kinks out of her back. “Don’t get too fond of calling them a ‘he’, now…”

Now Dwalin really froze up. “… Why…?”

Oin just smirked. “They are half hobbit, but you’re settling in a way that leans more to it being a girl.” He explained, and Dwalin felt her heart pound in excitement. “Now, don’t get your hopes too high. We won’t know for sure until they’re born. Just don’t be too dead set on a boy.”

“Ah… A-Aye…” Dwalin breathed out, biting back a grin. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Oin nodded, shooing her along as they left the bedroom and walked down the hall to regroup with the others. All the while she was in a daze. Sure, things weren't definite, but the fact that Oin himself said that there was quite a chance of her child being a girl brought her hopes up. She did want a girl, and she knew Bilbo wanted one as well, for he was dead set on making sure that one of the possible names was "Belladonna". But she never dared to set her sights on such a rare gift. With Oin's words, it didn't seem so imossible.

She was grinning when they reached the kitchen, seeing that Balin and Dori were having tea whilst Bofur was digging around the pantry. She didn't even mind Bofur's digging, she felt so pleased.

“He really doesn’t have much, does he?” He stated. “I hope that this hasn’t been a constant state for your sake, Miss Dwalin. Or are you eating my friend out of hearth and home?”

Dwalin sent Bofur a dark look, even as the others chuckled as she moved to take a seat at the table. “Believe it or not, I’m not like you’re lovely brother, Bofur.” She groused, and Bofur huffed at the mention of his younger sibling. “Of course, we never broached the topic. When’s the date for the wedding?”

Bofur went quite a bright shade of red as he fingered one of the mithril clasps in his hair. “Well, I’d… I’d rather wait for Bilbo to come back. So he can hear about it, too…” He explained. “But it won’t be for a while. Thorin, he… he wants you all there, after all.”

Something in Dwalin’s heart clenched at those words, and she hid it with a smile. “Well, I’m happy for you both.” She said instead. “Truly.”

“Thanks, Miss Dwalin.” Bofur breathed out, grin wide. “It means a lot, coming from you.”

Dwalin just nodded, accepting the cup of tea her brother slid to her but not drinking it. She knew what was in it, after all, and the only one who could make it tolerable was Bilbo. “Just don’t make me have to eat my words.”

Bofur barked out a laugh just as the front door opened, and Dwalin chuckled at the griping Fíli and Kíli were doing. She turned as well as she could to watch them shuffle down the hall and go straight for the pantry, Bofur immediately moving out of their way.

“You could at least help!” Fíli groused, causing Bofur to laugh again.

“Oh, why would I do that?” He asked cheerily. “After all, you lot are doing a great job!”

There was more grumbling, and for a moment Dwalin’s vision was obscured by Dori, who moved to help Ori as he immerged laden with parcels and sacks himself. Dwalin’s grin returned full force when Dori moved, for Bilbo was there, his own parcels in hand, but he immediately made a beeline for her.

“We’re back.” Bilbo announced belatedly as he moved to kiss the top of his wife’s shiny, tattooed head. He hummed pleasantly when Dwalin immediately grabbed his free hand. “I take it things are well?”

“Oh, yes.” Dwalin replied, and she felt warm all over when her husband beamed at him. “Things are very well…”

Chapter Text

Dwalin was happy. Surrounded by her kin, with good food and drink (though she couldn’t have any, which was something she missed greatly), with laughter and cheer. It was a smaller company than what was present the last time any of them were in Bag End, but that didn’t make this dinner any less wonderful. It was even moreso, if she were being honest, since they didn’t have to worry about long, hard journeys, fire-breathing dragons, or possibly death.

She allowed herself to smile, seeing Bilbo laugh with everyone. That was something else, as well. For she remembered that one night very well, and how flummoxed he was about a large company of dwarrows barging into his home and emptying his pantry. Now, seeing his flushed, laughing face, she couldn’t help but still feel a little awe. Looking back, she never would’ve imagined that the shy, timid hobbit she met, owner of the dinner she had consumed, would one day yank her down for a kiss by her beard in the darkness of Mirkwood. Never thought he’d state intent to court her after she had tried to tell herself on countless occasions that a meek little hobbit would want nothing to do with her.

Yet here she was: totally besotted with a hobbit, married, and carrying child when she was once told she would never have any. And one that could possibly be a girl. Truly, she was blessed, and she was happy with her life now than she had ever been.

She didn’t like to think about how different her life could’ve been if any of it ever happened. How different her life would be if Bilbo never ran after them that morning, signed contract in hand and smiling so incredibly wide that it almost made Dwalin’s own face hurt at the time. How, yes, she would’ve been married, and to someone she cared for deeply, but never loved. Or at least, loved them in a way that could never even begin to be as close to the love she felt for her hobbit.

She would still be in Erebor. Still be the tough warrior she had always been. Not that she wasn’t tough now, but even she had to admit that her brother was right about something: Bilbo had softened her, but not in a bad way. But she wouldn’t be soft, couldn’t afford to be soft, if they never happened. If Bofur never happened.

They had vowed not to tell anyone unless they thought it was absolutely necessary. Of the pact that they had made. Balin, of course, was the exception, since he was there when they had made it. When Thorin had thrust that bead into her hand. He was also there when she gave it back to him, and when she urged him to give it to Bofur instead.

She had a feeling that the toymaker knew about it, from the way he spoke of the wedding, and how he appreciated her approval. She didn’t mind that Bofur knew. But Bilbo couldn’t know. Could never know. She didn’t even want to begin to think of what problems his knowledge could cause if it ever came out.

Currently, Bilbo and Balin were laughing, and Dwalin resisted the urge to go over and pat his back to stop his choking, but her husband’s green, watery eyes rounded on hers and she froze.

“Dwalin!” He breathed, and Dwalin just hummed at the humored look her husband wore. “Your brother was just telling me about the time you showed up for training in just your undergarments!”

That happy feeling immediately left as she glared at her brother. “What nonsense have you been telling him?”

Balin didn’t even looked perturbed. “I was just recounting the good old days, and I thought it would be proper to tell Bilbo of how you used to be when you were younger.” He explained. “I never got the chance to before you left. I’m merely making up for lost time.”

She scoffed at him, trying to ignore the flush on her face as she picked at the remains of her supper. “I lost a bet!” She groused. “Plus, those fools wouldn’t know a woman from a man unless you stripped naked and spread your legs!”

Bilbo went into a fresh peel of giggles at her words, and Dwalin didn’t resist the small grin that twitched onto her face, even as the others at the table howled with laughter.

“Oh, but that was nothing!” Balin cut in, turning to Bilbo as he wiped tears from his eyes. “There was Thorin’s Coming of Age feast. They both tried to outdrink Vardur, one of the Guards, and known for his tolerance. They were three sheets to the wind while he was still quite sober, and they ran about streaking through the halls!”

Dwalin growled at another fresh peal of laughter at her expense. She really wished she could forget that night. She also wished she could forget how Thorin spent most of the time before that with his face glued to one of his father’s advisors.

Fed up with having to witness her humiliation, she rose from the table and began to walk off.

“Dwalin, where are you going?”

“To the loo!” She snapped, even if she didn’t really need to go.

“Well, bring more ale!” Fíli cried, causing Kíli to roar an agreement.

“You’ve had enough, lads!” She called back. “But if it’ll make you sleep like the dead-.”

“I’ll get it!” Dori cut in, standing from the table and patting Ori on the shoulder. “You can’t be carrying things like that on your own, especially in your condition.”

“I appreciate the help.” Dwalin murmured as Dori walked up beside her.

“Not a problem.” Dori replied with a wink. “Come along, dear!”

She allowed Dori to press a hand to her back, leading her out of the dining room as their friends, and their respective partners, laughed along. They only paused at the end of the hallway, and that was because Dori urged them to stop.

“To be honest, Milady, I was hoping you could tell me some stories of Balin. When he was younger.” He explained. “If only for revenge on your behalf.”

Dwalin barked a laugh. “Oh, Dori, nothing would be better. And I will, trust me.” She replied as she continued onward. “And be sure to hang it over his head for years to come!”

Dori laughed and followed Dwalin through the dimly lit hall, only to pause when it seemed they were going in different directions.

“Where are you going?” He asked. “I’m sure Bilbo kept the barrels over here!”

“He did, and he does.” Dwalin confirmed, looking over her shoulder. “But now that I’m moving about, I really do need to use the privy.”

xxx

“So you’re saying…” Dori breathed as he rolled the barrel down the hall (he couldn’t carry it on his own, and refused Dwalin’s help because she “shouldn’t be hefting things about in your condition!”). “… Is that Balin had to travel through Erebor, and then most of Dale in the late Consort’s best court gown!?”

“That, he did.” Dwalin assured, causing Dori to laugh even harder. “Wasn’t even for a bet, either. This all happened when I was a wee thing, barely passed my first decade, but I still remember the image of my brother wearing pink.”

“Oh, Mahal!” Dori breathed, pausing for breath as he leaned against the barrel, flushed and smiling. “I had no idea that Balin could be so… so…!”

“Free?” Dwalin filled in, causing Dori to sigh and straighten.

“It is true that these years have been hard, and he is working more than ever, even though he has help now.” Dori said, looking up at Dwalin. “But he does relax now and again, and it is nice to see him just sit down and breathe, but…”

Dwalin pressed her lips together. “Has it really been that hard?”

Dori gave a short nod. “A good portion of the time, yes.” He explained. “But he does rest. I make sure of it! That, and this is quite a vacation for him. Of course, he’s here to see you, but… any time to spend outside of those walls is a holiday, really…”

Dwalin hummed. “Well, I’m glad that you managed to pull him away so he could come here.” She said. “And I will try not to throttle him about not taking nough time to properly rest.”

Dori just laughed. “Don’t you think I haven’t already done that?”

“Aye, I do.” She replied, smirking. “But you’re not his sister.”

They shared another laugh as Dori moved to continue rolling the barrel, only to freeze. For it seemed to have grown quiet in the dining room. No more laughter. No more shouts. No more embarrassing tales about Dwalin’s early years. She was silently grateful for the later, but the others, not so much.

“Isn’t it a little quiet?” Dwalin finally asked, causing Dori to pause and frown.

“I believe it is.” He replied, sending Dwalin a concerned look. “What happened?”

Dwalin pursed her lips together, rushing ahead and ignoring Dori’s protests to slow down and take it easy. She didn’t stop until she reached the entryway, and her stomach plummeted.

Everyone at the table was silent, stunned silent. Bofur’s own face looked particularly tight, and Balin seemed a bit flabbergasted.

Bilbo was nowhere to be found.

“You told him.” It wasn’t a question, because she had a feeling she already knew she was right.

Balin swallowed, but Bofur answered her. “Aye.”

Dwalin cursed then, walking around the table, already knowing where Bilbo was likely to have gone.

“I’m sorry, sister!” Balin said, standing and rushing after her. “I thought… I had thought you would’ve told him! About what you and the King-.”

“Then clearly you’re not smarter than the both of us.” She snarled at her brother. “You knew. You knew I didn’t want him to know! And now I must go to him before he does something stupid!”

“You should not be ashamed!” Balin called after her as she continued.

“This has nothing to do with shame!” She called back, grabbing a few cloaks and throwing one over her shoulders. “This has to do with protecting my family, and not allowing my husband to second guess himself!”

She paused then, staring at her brother and taking a few calming breaths.

“Because I don’t want my husband to think he destroyed something that wasn’t there.” She continued. “Or think that he is… inadequate, or…”

She frowned, trying to think of words that would properly explain what was on her mind. How could she tell her brother that her love might think himself not worthy? To think he was inadvertently competing with the King Under the Mountain for her hand? Or worse, to think of letting her go, or sending her back to Erebor so she could have the life he might think she deserved. One she didn’t even want. One she never wanted.

“Excuse me.” She finally finished. “I must go talk to him… And make sure he doesn’t freeze.”

With that, she stepped outside of the warmth of her home, and slammed the door behind her. Leaving many a confused dwarrow in her wake.

Chapter Text

She first saw the garden when they first met the burglar. Even though she was dwarf, who valued rocks over plants, she found the space quite beautiful. Flowers of rich, vibrant colors and an even richer scent. Grand trees with long, low branches that could bear ripe, sweet fruits (she didn’t actually taste them until they came back, and she would slip away in the middle of the night just to have some to satisfy her cravings). Vegetable patches that bore beans, tomatoes, carrots, and a variety of vegetables so vast that they hardly had to get any from the market. Of course, it being so close to winter, it wasn’t as vibrant as it was when she first saw it, but it was still a lovely, quiet place.

From his tales of home, and from stumbling on him on odd nights, she learned that this was a place for Bilbo to go and think. To seek peace and solace. There was a bench put in solely for such a reason so that Bilbo didn’t always have to fight with grass stains on his shirts and trousers.

She found him there, curled in on himself, pipeweed smoke curling over his head.

Dwalin watched him for a few moments, trying to figure out a way to announce her presence, since it seemed that he didn’t even notice her, but a particularly chilly breeze made the decision for her. With that, she ambled over and, as carefully as she could, draped a cloak over his shoulders.

It startled him, of course, and he fumbled a bit before touching the fabric and gazing up at her.

“Didn’t want you to catch cold.” She murmured, suddenly feeling a little awkward, rubbing a hand across his back.

Bilbo pursed his lips. “Thank you.”

Dwalin gave a short nod, hand still on his back. She wanted to sit, wanted to pull him to her and hold him. But she didn’t think he’d be alright with that just yet.

“Why me?”

Dwalin blinked in surprise at that tiny whisper, for she thought she actually imagined it. “Pardon?”

“Why me?” Bilbo repeated, a little louder this time, and looking particularly confused and hurt. “You were engaged to a king. Royalty! I’m just a hobbit, with a garden, and a chair, and books! Thorin has a kingdom, with wealth, and he could give you anything you ever wanted! Why did you reject him, call off your engagement to him, for me?”

Dwalin sat next to him, heart heavy for her hobbit, for she knew that this was what he would ask. Because, despite everything, Bilbo still thought so little of himself. Thought that he didn’t deserve anything, or that someone wouldn’t want him just for who he was. It was why she never wanted to tell him, for she hated seeing him like this.

She swiveled as best she could to face him, resting gentle fingers on his chin to guide his eyes to hers.

“I chose you because I love you.” Dwalin stated firmly. “Because you were, you are, everything I could ever want. And when you told me you wanted to court me, I was the happiest dwarrowdam in the world, even if we were stuck in a forest shrouded by unrelenting darkness and near starved. Because I never thought such a good, kind, gentle burglar could ever want a warrior like me. And when you told me, when you chose me, I couldn’t miss the chance to be with you, for you are my One, Bilbo. Just like I am yours. And you make me happy.”

Bilbo’s lips were pressed together as his eyes glanced away. “What about Thorin?”

Dwalin let out a gust of air and straightened. “It wasn’t really a… proper engagement.” She explained. “More of an arranged affair. A pact, really. It wasn’t made out of love, or at least the kind that, say, you and I have.”

She wasn’t looking at him anymore, more focused on the apple tree some yards away, but she was sure he was looking at her again.

“It’s… a long, story, my Bilbo, but…” She continued, taking a deep breath. “Thorin’s grandfather, King Thror, was a good king, though he fell ill during his later years. As good as he was, however, he was not without… not faults, per se, but… well, not concerns, either…”

She paused to rub her temples, for she was never good with words. Eventually, she just decided to be blunt about it.

“He, like many dwarrows of his kind, believed that a man must lay with a woman. For a man to lay with another man was seen as a crime, punishable by fines or banishment. For women, it was much worse, since there are so few of us. We were either forced to marry a man of the court’s choosing, or executed. Defeated the purpose, really.”

Dwalin finally looked at Bilbo, seeing his green eyes wide and slightly horrified.

“Thorin never liked women, you see… Not in that sense, anyway. He has always preferred men.” She continued, focusing on Bilbo once again, seeing a little understanding in his eyes. “When he was of age, he tried to get the marriage laws repealed, and he was met with quite the backlash. Thror demanded that he find a woman to marry, and if he couldn’t, the King would choose for him, or face banishment and shame.”

“So that’s why you agreed to it?” Bilbo asked quietly. “To be betrothed to him? To save him?”

Dwalin nodded. “He was my oldest friend, and he trusted me completely.” She explained. “That and… I was never going to get married otherwise. Not because I didn’t want to, but… Well, I was a warrior, Bilbo, which was something frowned upon, and it didn’t appeal to many suitors…”

She rubbed her swollen middle, watching as Bilbo shifted a little closer to her and frowning. “I had also learned that the chances of me ever bearing children were incredibly slim.” She explained. “That caused the small handful of suitors I had to turn away and go elsewhere with their intents. So, we both agreed to marry one another, if only to save Thorin and I both from shame, and because I was more than happy to allow Thorin to seek relief of his needs elsewhere as I played having a blind eye.” Dwalin let out a deep, shuddering breath, trying to collect herself. “A day after we informed Thror of our engagement, Smaug came, but we were sworn to keep to our engagement, and Thror had decreed that, once we reclaimed Moria, we were to wed. That never happened, for many reasons, but we agreed to keep it. Not necessarily for the same reasons, however.”

Bilbo, who had managed to scoot across the bench to press close to his wife as she spoke, furrowed his brow in question. “Why?”

Dwalin scoffed a little. “Because we thought there would be no one else. No one that would want us. Would want me, a barren warrior lass who hates the mere thought of a dress and ‘matronly duties’. Or would want Thorin, a shamed, banished king without a kingdom. One who wanted a man, at that.” She answered, feeling more open and exposed to Bilbo than ever before, even when she first laid with him. “We altered it, of course. If either of us were to ever find someone else, we’d call off the engagement. As long as we approved of the other, of course. If we didn’t, by the time we reclaimed Erebor, well… let’s just say that, if you never found the courage, my love, I would be Thorin’s Consort right now, and Thorin wouldn’t be happily engaged to the toymaker with the silly hat.”

Bilbo barked a laugh at that, smothering the rest into Dwalin’s shoulder. Dwalin allowed herself to smile a little, thankful that he understood, or at least he seemed to. She eventually wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, nudging their foreheads together as her hobbit looked at her.

“So you see, ghivashel, you did not destroy anything. In fact, Thorin approved of you long before you approached me with your intent, and even if he did not, I would not care. For I love you, and you are precious to me.” She told him, cupping his face with her other hand. “And look at us: We are married, and I am soon to give birth to our child, one that I never thought I could have. You have made me so happy, my Bilbo, happier than I could ever be. And Thorin is happy, Bofur is happy, and I’d like to think you’re happy, too.”

Bilbo’s lips twitched into a little smile, and she didn’t resist pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“I’m sorry I never told you, and I should have.” She whispered into his cooled skin. “Just please don’t doubt yourself again. Don’t doubt my choices. Please.”

She felt little, nimble fingers tangle into her beard and didn’t fight it when he pulled her into a kiss, similar to the one in Mirkwood. Just as gentle, and just as sweet. But better, for they were in Bilbo’s garden, in the Shire, and she didn’t have to worry about Bilbo possibly changing his mind now.

“You’re right.” He whispered. “You should’ve told me.”

Dwalin sighed softly, even as Bilbo bussed their noses together.

“And I’m sorry, too.” Bilbo continued, tightening his grip when she tried to protest. “I am, truly. And I don’t want you doubting yourself either, my sweet. What I told you on our wedding day was absolute truth: I never thought I could be so lucky to have you, and I was just as happy as you were when you allowed me to court you. I love you so much, and you are perfect in every way. My beautiful warrior, and mother of my child. Even if you were truly… barren… you’d still be perfect to me.”

Dwalin wasn’t quite sure if the whine that erupted between them came from her or not, but she still buried her face into Bilbo’s shoulder, twisting a little to make it easier on her back.

“Thorin be damned if he disapproved!” Bilbo finally stated loudly, causing Dwalin to snort with laughter. “I have you, and I’m keeping you. Just as I’m sure that you’re keeping me, too.”

Dwalin sighed into her husband’s throat. “I am.” She whispered. “We’re keeping each other. All of us.”

She felt a gentle hand press on her bump, and she shivered a little as Bilbo caressed it lightly. “Absolutely.”

They sat like that for a little while, Dwalin pulling him closer when Bilbo started to shiver. She didn’t mind the chill too much, and she was certain that Bilbo didn’t want to move just yet.

“Everything alright?”

Dwalin jumped at the lilting, seeing Bofur walk over, trying to avoid the odd stone.

“Bofur!” Bilbo cried, noting his friend’s lack of cloak. “What are you doing here? And where’s your cloak?”

The toymaker just smiled. “Dwalin’s wearing it.” He replied, and Dwalin cringed, knowing that she should’ve been more mindful when taking random cloaks from the rack. “I’m not surprised, really. Bombur had insisted I take his along.”

Dwalin hummed, standing and removing the cloak. “No wonder it covered me completely.”

Instead of glowering, Bofur just barked a laugh. “Well, I’m glad.” He replied. “I knew it was intuition speaking when I refused Thorin’s. Do you know how dangerous it is trying to wear a fur-lined cloak embroidered with silver and sapphire?”

Dwalin scoffed, thinking of Thorin’s personal tastes and how he probably just wanted rid of the thing. It seemed that mention of the king stirred something, for Bilbo stood as well and approached Bofur.

“Bofur…” He murmured. “Did you…?”

Bofur nodded. “Aye. He told me after it was announced that there were plans to take a trip to the Shire.” He explained. “Made sure I knew everything, about his grandfather and the agreement. It’s… one of the reasons I came here, because I wanted to make sure you approved.”

“And I do.” Dwalin assured, draping the cloak over Bofur’s shoulders. “Truly. I know how happy you make Thorin. Just make sure he knows how happy I am.”

Bofur nodded, and she narrowed her eyes. “And I meant what I said: Don’t make me eat my words!”

He laughed again, even as Bilbo rolled his eyes and swatted playfully at her. “Aye, I will!” He replied. “Just a bit worried about all this Consort business. Never was a big fan of politics-!”

Dwalin jumped as something cold and wet landed on her nose, causing everyone to pause. They looked up, and Dwalin felt her eyes widen as she saw the cause.

“Snow!” Bilbo whispered. “It’s rather early for it. Oh, I hope this doesn’t cause too many problems!”

“It shouldn’t. Oin said we’ll be alright.” Bofur explained. “Although I do want to go back inside, now.”

“I think we all should go inside.” Dwalin stated, pulling Bilbo to her side as they followed Bofur back to the hobbit hole. “You know, this kind of weather is perfect for serving a big mug of something warm. Something sweet. Something-.”

“Alright, I get it!” Bilbo laughed, pinching Dwalin’s arm. “I’ll make hot chocolate when we get back inside. For everyone. Though yours will be sans liquor, my pet!”

Dwalin grumped as Bofur’s laughter rang overhead, and vowed to drink a large tankard of ale as soon as the babe was born.

xxx

The problem with having drunk dwarrows staying in Bag End was that they were awful, loud snorers. Oin, in particular, snored the loudest, the sound carrying into the room Dwalin and Bilbo called their own from down the hall. It didn’t bother Bilbo, who could sleep through anything. Dwalin, however, was a different story. She was a warrior, after all. Trained to wake at even the smallest of noises.

She growled from deep in her throat when a particularly loud snore entered her ears and forced her to stir. Bad enough she had to now sleep either on her side or propped against the headboard when she preferred to sleep on her stomach, but her sensitive ears didn’t help matters in the slightest.

Grumbling, she tried to push herself up, feeling Bilbo’s tiny hand slip from its place on her waist, only to freeze.

The sheets were wet. Almost completely drenched, and the source seemed to be her. She never soiled herself in her life (despite what her brother claimed about her early years), so she knew the cause.

“Bilbo.” She hissed, heart thundering as she shook her husband’s shoulders. He only grumbled sleepily, turning over, but she only shook him harder. “Bilbo! Bilbo, for Mahal’s sake, wake up!”

“Whuh-? Ow. Ow!” Bilbo finally cried, crawling away from his wife’s grip. “Dwalin, what’s wro-?”

He noticed the state of their sheets, and Dwalin was sure she saw her husband’s face pale, even in the dim moonlight.

“Bilbo,” She continued, trying to remain calm, even as she felt contractions start to throb through her. “Bilbo, my water broke.”

Chapter Text

“You’re going to wear the floor down with all that pacing, lad!”

Bilbo barely acknowledged Balin’s words as he continued his pacing, up and down the halls, only to pause in front of the door leading to the bedroom he shared with his wife, or when he heard said wife scream obscenities from the other side.

It was all rather hectic after Bilbo was roused. He ran about the house, trying to wake up anyone who would listen in his night clothes, only to run back to Dwalin after he roused Bofur when he realized he left his poor wife in wet sheets. He managed to get Dwalin into a new nightshirt by the time Dori asked if they needed anything, and by the time said dwarf came back with new sheets, Dwalin was doing all she could to resist her brother’s pleas to move her to the birthing chair.

When Dwalin’s stay in bed was assured, he ran to Hamfast and told him to get the midwife, for he didn’t want to go running all the way across the Shire to do so himself and leave his wife with a bunch of dwarves to have their baby without him. When he got back inside, it was to Dori screaming at Kíli for trying to destroy Bilbo’s pans and Ori asking him politely if he would prefer bacon or sausage for breakfast.

By the time Hamfast arrived with the midwife, Dwalin was quite dilated and had loudly proclaimed all the ways she would castrate Bilbo once it was all over; the young Durins were mentally scarred for life by the sight of their old sparring teacher with her bare bottom half bent and spread for the entire world to see because Oin wanted them to help with the birthing process; and Dori professed that she shared the same thoughts Dwalin had about the birthing chair.

Now, everyone except a select few had been kicked out (Fíli and Kíli managed to get out of assisting Oin), and all they could do now was wait and listen.

Bilbo was horrible at both those things when his family was involved. He heard horror stories after all. Losing the babe, losing the mother, losing both. His own mother almost died giving birth to him, and now Dwalin, who was once thought to never be able to bear children, was trying to do so now. He was sure that any other person would say he was overreacting, and that Dwalin would be fine, but he had already almost lost her so many times. He didn’t want to add yet another time, or even have it be permanent.

“Bilbo!”

Said hobbit jumped as a strong hand gripped his arm. It was Bofur, brow furrowed and lips thin.

“Lad, you need to calm down.” Bofur told him firmly. “Dwalin’s a tough bird, and she’s lived through plenty worse, of that I’m sure. She’ll be fine.”

“How do you know that?” He asked bitterly, causing Bofur to sigh.

“You’re right, I don’t know. But pacing ain’t going to do either of you any good! Now sit!” His friend replied before promptly shoving him into a chair in-between Balin and Fíli.

“Eat.” Fíli cut in, shoving a warm biscuit into his hand.

“Drink.” Kíli continued on, shoving coffee in his other hand.

“And, for all our sakes Bilbo, breathe.” Balin finished even as Bilbo started doing all those things. Or at least tried to. “You’re not the only one worried, you know.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. It’s…” Bilbo murmured before drinking some coffee. “My mother… she had problems with me, and…”

“And I can understand your worries, truly.” Balin assured. “But if something were to happen, and Dwalin needed you, you wouldn’t be much help in your state.”

Bilbo bit his lip and let out a tremulous breath. “You’re right…” He breathed. “I… I need to be strong. I can be. I’ve faced orcs, goblins, even a dragon-!”

“This is different, I believe.” Bofur cut in. “But at least this time, you have us right here. To lend you our strength.”

Bilbo looked around him, seeing his friends grin at him, and Bilbo allowed himself to smile at them in turn. “Thank you…” He told them. “For being here. For coming when you did. I dare say I’d be in a much more harried state if you didn’t arrive when you did!”

Balin barked a laugh, patting his shoulder. “Well, we won’t worry about what could’ve been. We should now just stay by and give my sister as much comfort as we can from here.” He told Bilbo before rising. “Now I shall see Master Gamgee. I believe he said he brought some things his missus gifted us.”

Bilbo snorted softly, and Balin took his leave. Fíli then took that time to scoot closer to him.

“You know my brother and I have always looked up to you, little cousin.” Fíli told him, causing Bilbo to give him a look.

“You certainly didn’t show it when you’d play all those pranks on me. I still cringe at the sight of butter, you know!” He scolded. “And little cousin?”

Fíli merely barked a laugh. “We can’t apologize enough for that, I guess, but that is just what we do. All our friends have met our delightful schemes.” He joked, causing Bilbo to snort. “And Master Dwalin is family. Cousin, though a distant one. And since you married her, that also makes you our cousin. And little because… well… from the look on your face, I don’t think I should finish that thought.”

“You’re quite right.” He quipped, even as Fíli’s grin went even wider and Kíli nudged at Bilbo to get his attention.

“We do care about you, Bilbo. Even if we weren’t related by marriage, we’d still call you family.” He said, even as Bilbo continued to try to eat. “And if anything was as deserving to have a family with Dwalin, it’s you.”

Bilbo was stunned silent, for he had no idea that the brothers could sound so mature. And sure, he knew that the boys liked him. He just never knew to what extent.

“Th… Thank you, boys.” He told them. “Really, that… you have no idea how much that means to me-.”

He was cut off by two particular sounds that had his hands go limp, dropping the crumbs of his biscuit and spilling his coffee. One belong to Dwalin, whose fierce shouts grew even louder. The other was a different cry, high and shrill.

It was a sound belonging to a healthy babe.

“You hear that, Bilbo!?” Kíli cried, even as Bilbo felt his face stretch to a painful grin and his eyes sting and blur. “That’s your babe! She did it! You’re a dad, now!”

Bilbo choked out a laugh, even as he felt Bofur join the two in an embrace. It all suddenly felt real. Truly, undeniably real. That little cry belonged to his son. Or even to his daughter.

He had something with Dwalin that neither of them ever thought they could have: A child.

His happy, elated thoughts were immediately quashed when he heard raised voices, and his wife’s shouts rose once again. Even Bofur seemed to frown at the development, pulling away.

“What are they doing now?” The toymaker asked as Bilbo slipped out of Fíli and Kíli’s grasp, numb from all feeling.

“Something’s wrong…” He breathed. “Something’s wrong with Dwalin-!”

Bilbo bolted, trying to get to the door to find out why they were shouting. Why Dwalin was still screaming. Because something was wrong.

“Bilbo, wait!” Bofur cried, but it was Kíli who had grabbed him, and he fought as hard as he could against the young dwarf.

“Let me go!” He shouted. “I need to see her! She could be dying, and she needs me!”

“She’s not dying!” Fíli shouted. “Master Dwalin’s far too strong-!”

“I need to see her!” Bilbo continued shouting, even as he heard footsteps coming from down the hall, no doubt that it was Balin. “I need to see her! To tell her she can’t leave me! She can’t leave our child! She needs-!”

His outburst was cut off when all went silent, save for another shrill cry. It joined the other, causing two young cries to ring throughout the halls of Bag End.

“Aulë’s beard…” Balin breathed as he approached. “Could it be…?”

“Twins…” Bofur breathed, turning to Bilbo, even as the hobbit felt his head swim. “You’ve got twins, Bilbo!”

Chapter Text

Hobbits naturally have large families. It was hardly a surprising turn of events for a woman to birth twins or triplets. Of course, none could ever beat the record of Aubergine Took and her octoplets several years ago. Bilbo’s own parents had wanted a large family, but after what happened with Bilbo’s birth, they knew that they couldn’t have anymore, and were content with just the little hobbit. And living as long as he had as a bachelor, Bilbo had just assumed that he would never be a father period, and would never rear a single child.

Now he was facing something he never dared to ponder on. Dwalin, his beloved wife, had given birth to twins. Twins. One babe was blessing enough. But two…

He desperately wanted to ask both Oin and the midwife how they could ever miss such a thing. But first he was more focused on not fainting like he did when Bofur described Smaug to him in the greatest detail.

“Whoa! Easy there, Bilbo!” Fíli cried, helping Kíli with holding him up. “Get back on your feet! No fainting now!”

Bilbo let out a shaky sigh and nodded, glancing over to Balin, who looked as pale as he was, and who was currently being supported by Bofur himself.

“I had no idea…” Bilbo breathed, causing Balin to look at him. “Twins, Balin. I fathered twins.”

“I’m an uncle to twins…” Balin whispered to him, his lips twitching. “My sister is a mother to twins!”

Both dwarf and hobbit broke into laughter, separating from their designated supporters to embrace each other. Bilbo himself was hiccupping rather horribly, tears and snot dripping onto Balin’s fine robes. Of course, he was sure that Balin was in no better state than he, for his breaths were shaky, and Bilbo’s own shoulder was growing damp.

“I never thought I’d see this day!” Balin cried before promptly pulling Bilbo to face him with a furrowed brow. “Whatever did you do to her?”

Bilbo sputtered, going even redder than he already was. “Balin-!”

“I wonder what’s taking them so long now…”

They all paused to regard Fíli, who was frowning towards the door. The cries had quieted down slightly, but there were still hushed voices.

“Maybe she’s got another one.” Kíli supplied before beaming. “Triplets!”

“Oh, boys!” Bilbo groaned. “Twins are enough. I highly doubt Dwalin had triplets. Besides, she wants to castrate me enough as it is-!”

“But they’re quiet.” Fíli murmured, cutting them off. “Why are they quiet?”

Bilbo glanced at the door himself, worrying his lip and hoping all was well on the other side. Could something be wrong with them? With their children? And what of Dwalin? Was she alright?

That was when the door opened, revealing Lily Brandybuck, the midwife. She was sweaty and covered with red smears, wiping her arms off with a towel. Bilbo felt his heart in his throat until she turned to him and beamed.

“Mister Baggins, Balin,” She stated quietly. “It’s time to meet the new members of your family.”

Bilbo let out a deep sigh, feeling himself get patted and nudged as he blindly walked alongside Balin to enter the room. He only paused to turn to Lily one last time.

“How is she?” He asked quietly.

“Tired, as expected. Moreso when we found out the little surprise.” Lily explained, smirking. “That’s the trouble with us hobbits, though, isn’t it? You think you’ve counted them all, but then one just seems to pop in out of nowhere!”

Bilbo barked a laugh, even as Balin caught Lily’s attention.

“Will she recover?” And that was indeed a concern.

“Oh, absolutely. She was perfect. The births were perfect.” Lily explained, lips thinning. “But your old doctor was right, I believe. These babes were a miracle, and I don’t think she’ll have any more children. For that, I’m sorry.”

Bilbo just shook his head. “It was miracle enough, having these two.” He breathed out. “I… It’s sad, but… as long as they’re healthy…”

“Of course.” Lily replied before urging him in. “Now, go. Mom’s just finished nursing them now.”

Bilbo nodded dumbly, allowing Lily to urge him inside first. He barely noticed Oin, Dori, and Ori cleaning up off on the side; his attention was solely focused on Dwalin.

Dwalin, lying propped up against the headboard, two bundles being held close to her chest. Clearly, she didn’t notice Bilbo walking in, for she was too busy staring at the bundles in awe.

“Hello, buttercup.” Bilbo choked out, approaching the side of the bed closest to his wife, and when Dwalin finally looked at him, he never thought he saw her look so happy. He gently kissed her cheek, pressing their foreheads together, and Bilbo felt the air get punched right out of him again when he looked at them.

They looked like any newborn hobbit ever did. Red, wrinkly faces and small pointed ears. However, they had small tufts of dark brown hair on their head and face (one had them along the sides, the other on the tip of their chin). They certainly had their father’s nose, and as they blinked up at their parents, Bilbo was sure that their eyes would be even brighter than their mother’s.

“Meet Belladonna,” Dwalin murmured softly, gently rocking the one in her right arm as her voice cracked from being abused with shouts and tears. She then rocked the one in her left. “And Bundin.”

“A girl and a boy.” Bilbo breathed, hardly noticing how the others had stepped out, leaving the four of them with Balin standing by the foot of the bed, smile wide and eyes brimming. “Oh, they’re perfect.”

“Yeah, they are.” Dwalin choked out, and Bilbo kissed his wife’s cheeks as fresh tears spilled from her eyes. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Can… I…?” Bilbo asked hesitantly, but Dwalin didn’t even hesitate when she easily handed Belladonna over to Bilbo’s waiting arms. Immediately he cradled his daughter close. “Hello, Belladonna. I’m your father, and I’m sure you’ll grow up to be as wild and adventurous as your namesake.”

He heard Dwalin bark a laugh, and he smiled at his wife, even as she urged her brother over to hold his nephew.

“Give a mother’s arms a break. Both of you.” She told them, looking back over to Bilbo once she was sure that Balin wouldn’t drop Bundin. “I love them, but you’d be surprised how hard it is to push out the two of them when they have such big feet!”

“Really, sister!” Balin chided, conviction nonexistent as he held Bundin in front of him. “Already teaching your children such horrible manners!”

Bilbo hardly paid attention, allowing Dwalin to hold him close as he stroked his daughter’s cheek with a careful finger.

“Twins…” He breathed. “Can you believe it, love?”

“I’m still adjusting to the shock of even having one.” She told him. “And you weren’t there when the midwife told me to keep going, because there was still one in there!”

Bilbo laughed, curling around them, only to pause when he noticed Dwalin’s shaking only getting harder. It didn’t take long to realize that she was crying.

“Oh, Dwalin…” He breathed, guiding her head to rest on his shoulder as he readjusted his grip on the babe in his arms.

“Don’t worry! I’m happy!” She sobbed out. “It’s just… All my life, I never dared hope… I gave up on ever having even one child! And now…”

Bilbo felt a whine in the back of his throat, pecking kisses on his wife’s face, as much as he could reach, even as Balin continued to pretend not to listen in, focusing on trying to get Bundin to grip his finger.

Eventually, Dwalin sniffled loudly, lifting her head to look at Belladonna as she began to move her hands around.

“We’ll never have others…” She continued. “But this… having you all… I can truly say that I’m content.”

Bilbo beamed at her, nuzzling her forehead. “As am I, my sweet.” He told her, watching as Dwalin stroked a finger along one of Belladonna’s arms. “As am I.”

“You won’t be in a few months.” Balin told them. “But I’m sure that both of them will grow to be great warriors, just like their mother.”

“Or great gardeners.” Bilbo cut in, trying to enforce his need to make sure their children knew that they could be what they wanted. “Or cooks. Poets!”

“Even crocheters-Oh!” Dwalin spoke, eyes lighting up when Belladonna grabbed her wandering finger. “Oh, she’s got a grip like iron, this one. I bet she’s the one who practiced her kicks on my kidneys.”

“It could’ve very well been your Bundin, here!” Balin cut in, coming close to the three. “He does seem the cunning type. Must get that from his uncle!”

Dwalin scoffed, touching as much of Bundin as she could, only to frown when a loud knock sounded from the door.

“Can we come in yet?” Bofur shouted from the other side.

“Yeah!” Fíli shouted.

“We want to coo at the babies, too!” Kíli finished, even as he was cut off by Dori shouting at them.

“Well, we musn’t keep them waiting.” Balin stated, and they all did some shuffling, leaving Dwalin with Belladonna and Bilbo with Bundin. “Shall I unleash the army?”

Dwalin snorted before nodding, not even tearing her eyes away from Belladonna.

“Unleash away, brother.”

When Balin opened the door, it wasn’t as chaotic as Bilbo had originally expected. Dori and Ori seemed the most reserved, obviously already seeing the newborns, and they spent most of their time making sure everything was kept under control... as much as possible, anyway. Bofur must have somehow swept into the children’s room, for he came with one of the toys he had arrived with and spent what time he had with the babe smiling at them, telling little stories, and showing them the toy to try and garner its attention. Fíli and Kíli were the loudest, and made the most peculiar faces at the babes. Hamfast, who had children of his own, was definitely an old hand, knowing just how to move and speak in order to get them to calm down if they fussed.

It seemed that they also had developed favorites rather quickly. Bofur and Ori seemed particularly fond of Bundin, whilst the youngest dwarves were treating Belladonna as if she were their little sister. Hamfast, Dori, and Balin seemed to love both equally, and Bilbo was just thankful when Bundin was placed back in his arms, for he hardly had a chance to hold him before they came in.

Even when they were so new in this life, Bilbo was starting to pick up on certain things about his children. Bundin would be the quiet, gentle one. He was watching everything with wide eyes, not once crying or making a noise, only reaching with his hands if he ever grew extra curious. Belladonna was already vocal, making noises here and there, her hands reaching for whatever they could reach. Clearly, she was going to be a troublemaker. And with Dwalin as her mother, he was sure that she would cause even more mischief than the original Belladonna ever could.

“Well, this has all been a rather exciting day, and I’m sure you’re all quite famished.” Dori proclaimed, and Dwalin moaned in agreement as she tried to calm a crying Belladonna down after Balin refused to let her grab his beard. “Any special requests?”

“Everything in the pantry.” Dwalin stated. “I’m famished!”

Everyone laughed, and even Bilbo snorted, but it was understandable. Sure, Bilbo hardly had a single biscuit that whole day, but Dwalin had not eaten at all, and after all she had done, it wasn’t a surprised that she was extremely hungry and tired. He wouldn’t be surprised if his wife had a large meal and then take a long nap soon after.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Dori replied. “Anyone care to assist? I’m thinking up quite a feast!”

Everyone seemed to be in agreement, and everyone slowly filed out (Fíli and Kíli had to be dragged away). All that was left was Hamfast, who patted his friend on the shoulder.

“Congratulations, Mister and Missus Baggins, on the little ones!” He stated cheerily, grinning at Bundin as he started falling asleep in his father’s arms. “I say, after our meal, are you willing to join me in a celebratory drink? I brought a scotch. Very nicely aged, if I do say so myself.”

“We all will. And you make mine a double!” Dwalin proclaimed, and Hamfast only laughed at her for a few moments before he realized that Dwalin was staring him down. “I’m being serious.”

Hamfast began to sputter objections, but Bilbo just laughed. Right now, he couldn’t bring himself to mind his wife’s demands for stiff drinks and copious amounts of food (the latter understandable, but he would really have to prevent the former). For a miracle had occurred in Bag End, like it had a few times before. He had a wife, whom he loved and who loved him in turn. He had friends, good ones, who would be there for him, who have been there, and who he’d be there for if they needed him.

But most important of all, he had the one thing he never dared to dream about having, and one thing Dwalin never thought she'd have either:

A family.

Chapter Text

Dwalin rolled her shoulders, fighting off the kinks in her neck as her children finally, finally decided to go to sleep. They lay in their crib, side by side, and Dwalin couldn’t help but grin at the fact that Bundin had immediately curled around the form of his sister.

It had been a few months since their birth, and yet they seemed much older. They were getting bigger, more curious, and they were moving about far more than any dwarf babe she ever saw at such an age. She blamed their father for the fact that Belladonna was already starting to crawl, and that Bundin seemed to managed to get the most random things from out of nowhere and into his mouth.

They were growing, blossoming right before her very eyes, and each day she felt her heart warm and glow at the sight. Yes, there were many sleepless nights, dirtied shirts, and Bilbo had finally started to be able to change diapers without having to immediately rush to a trash bin afterwards. But there was so much joy in hearing Bundin babble wordlessly at his father, and hearing Belladonna’s high pitched squeals and giggles when Dwalin would tickle her belly.

She never thought she could be happier.

But a test was coming. An event that could very well shun her from her peers.

They were going to Erebor in the morning, all four of them, to stay for a short period of time surrounding the marriage between Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, and Bofur, toymaker, miner, and future Consort.

She knew that, with time, her people’s beliefs had changed. They were more open to the idea that two dwarrows of the same gender could be together and have it not be a crime. That one could be with someone outside their race, no matter how private the dwarrow race was. And children were a blessing, dwarrow children even moreso. But half-breeds? That, she did not know. Sure, her former company accepted her children and adored them, the most important being her brother. But what of the others? Outsiders? Would her children be shunned? Considered wrong? Defective? Dirty? She did not know. But what she did know was that she would kill anyone who dared to threaten her husband and children. She had done so before, at least for her husband. It wouldn’t be too much of a challenge.

Her dark thoughts were broken when she heard her husband heave a great sigh as he entered the children’s room.

“Well, everything’s packed.” He informed her. “And I’ve already prepared the sign for the fence. ‘Not Dead. Out visiting the In-Laws. Don’t Sell Anything’.”

Dwalin grinned at her husband. “Will that work?”

Bilbo frowned. “Hopefully?” He replied, causing Dwalin to snort. “If anything, I’ve asked Hamfast to keep an eye on the place.”

“Let’s just hope Lobelia doesn’t try anything too rash…” Dwalin groused, recalling how the woman had once dared to try to slip through the window when Dwalin refused to answer the door when she was still heavily pregnant. She didn’t think she could run in that state, nor did she think that Lobelia could scream so loudly.

She blinked then, a little surprised as Bilbo wrapped an arm around her waist. He was not shy in expressing affection physically, but it would usually be more secretive. Like fingers twirling some of the hairs in her beard, or taking her hand. This was rather bold for her hobbit, and she found that she delighted in it.

“Well, I think she has calmed down a little with her claims, and the like.” He explained. “Now that she sees that I’ve got a family.”

Dwalin hummed, leaning into her husband’s hold slightly. His warm, soft form was a welcome presence. She nuzzled her nose into his curls, humming curiously as he gently tugged at her beard so he could look at her.

“Not to mention that I have a lovely, fierce woman as my wife.” He continued. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her flee Bag End so quickly.”

She would’ve scoffed, because it should be a given that Dwalin would be so protective of her husband and her children. That she was anything but lovely, even though Bilbo insisted that she was on top of also being beautiful, sweet, and kind. But she found it rather difficult to do so when he pulled her into a kiss. And oh, what a kiss.

While Dwalin knew she could be a little rough with her kisses, Bilbo was all sweet, syrupy motions. All gentle, yet insistent pressures and long, teasing sweeps of tongue and little nips with teeth. It made her knees weak and her gut burn fiercely. That’s when the fact that they hadn’t truly been intimate in almost half a year came crashing into her, and she moaned, hoping that she knew where this was going. For they were able to, now. No dwarves, no swollen body parts, and their children were now sleeping throughout the night.

“Quick on the uptake tonight, love.” Bilbo breathed, and he giggled when Dwalin growled, nipping at her throat. “Well?”

Like she would deny him, especially when she wanted to as well. However, “We do have an early start…”

Bilbo’s grin turned rather mischievous. “Oh, my sweet Dwalin.” He purred, and Dwalin’s nostrils flared. “You don’t know how pleased I am to have your confidence.”

Whatever control she had over her needs was lost, and she scooped up her husband, fisting his plump little bum as he quickly wrapped his legs around her waist.

“Don’t make me eat my words.” She purred, relishing in Bilbo’s laugh as she rushed to their room, shutting the door behind them.

Despite everything, they had a late start, anyway. But Dwalin couldn’t find it in her to mind too terribly. She felt more relaxed than she ever felt in days, and she felt rather gleeful when Bilbo wouldn’t stop whistling.

She turned her grin to Bundin, who was strapped to her back, looking wide-eyed and happy awed, for this was his first time on a pony, and the first time he was ever really this high off the ground. She heard Belladonna squeal and giggle from her position with Bilbo as he came up alongside her.

This journey would be difficult, but hopefully not too difficult. They would have help when they would meet with an envoy in Bree (Thorin had insisted in his letter that they would have one, or so help him…). Dwalin just hoped that their welcome would be warm, and that her friend would be happy.

Bilbo grinned at her, and Dwalin’s worried faded to the back of her mind. “Are you ready, my love?”

“As ready as I will ever be.”