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Thorin ran into Bilbo, quite literally, in the hallways of Erebor while he was trying to escape his guards. It was a rather fortunate coincidence, finding the hobbit in a half abandoned passage. If Dwalin had caught sight of Thorin outside the meeting with the Mirkwood representatives for some other reason than an emergency, there would be hell to pay.
“Oh, Thorin!” Bilbo startled, rocking back on his heels as the dwarf King’s arms wrapped around his waist. “What are you doing? Aren't you supposed to be at a meeting?”
“They’re just talking of export expenses for Mirkwood at this point, Balin can handle it,” Thorin lied smoothly, jerking the hobbit back until Bilbo was forced to stumble against his chest. “Besides, it has been a while since the King has seen his Consort.”
“Don’t give me that, we saw each other at dinner.” Bilbo’s face scrunched up cutely in annoyance. Thorin felt a thrill of glee zip up his spine. He knew how much Bilbo disliked his title, but there was something so sweetly exhilarating about reminding the hobbit that he belonged with Thorin. Everyday Thorin made it his solemn duty to remind Bilbo how greatly he’d blessed the dwarf King by agreeing to marry him.
“You shouldn’t abandon your duties to Balin. He works hard enough as it is.” Bilbo tugged at Thorin’s bejeweled cloak, straightening it until it set back in its place. “I knew I should have sat in on this meeting, but Ori and I have been trying to work on the archives since the Mountain was reopened. I promised I wouldn’t leave him by himself today. We’re so close to being done.”
“Yes, but…” Thorin paused, raising a mischievous eyebrow and slipping one hand down the hobbits back slowly. Today Bilbo had forgone his royal attire and was simply in his plain hobbit attire, which made it easier for Thorin to mold his hands against the shape of Bilbo’s body. “Ori’s already gone home and I would think I deserve some quality time with my husband after dealing with the elves. A reward for my good behavior.”
“Good Behavior?” Bilbo choked, blushing wildly and hitting at Thorin’s chest with his fist, trying to squirm away before someone rounded the corner and caught them fondling each other in public. Thorin was aroused by the movement, using his larger body and strength to keep Bilbo flush against his front. “Stop it! Thorin, I mean it. You can’t keep doing this where someone might see. You’re a King, not s-some….um…”
“Um?” Thorin grinned, nuzzling his nose against Bilbo’s temple and biting gently at the sharp point of the hobbit’s ear.
“Oh,” Bilbo sighed, melting into his husband’s embrace, “You scoundrel. Thorin, please, not here. Have some decency.”
Not wanting to upset Bilbo, Thorin hooked his thumbs into the hobbit’s bracers and instead leaned forward to place a comforting kiss on Bilbo’s forehead. “Then let us retire to our rooms. It is getting late and I would like to spend some time relaxing in bed with my husband.”
Blushing, Bilbo nibbled on his plump bottom lip before nodding in concession. “Fine, but keep your hands where I can see them until we get there. I don’t want to keep startling the others who keep finding us in compromising positions.”
Thorin’s his heart swelled with adoration for Bilbo. He slipped his hand easily in his husband’s, intertwining their fingers together.
“Thank you,” Bilbo said, fixing his clothes where Thorin had rucked them up. “Now love, lead the way.”
Thorin smiled before leaning down and leaving a quick kiss on the hobbit’s red-bitten lips.
***
For a long while after the Battle of Five Armies, Thorin had been afraid he’d lost Bilbo’s heart forever. But somehow the hobbit had found it in himself to forgive the dwarf King and they’d worked to make their bond stronger than ever. Marrying Bilbo had been a joy on par to defeating Smaug and having Erebor returned to his people, and Thorin would never forget all that Bilbo had done for him and his people.
There was just the matter of how his people would take the new Consort of Erebor being a hobbit.
Thorin had worried of course, even drunk on newly wedded bliss he been cautious of how others treated Bilbo. Their Company had been jubilant and happy for them, but the returning Councilmen had not quite had the same glad tidings for their King’s new matrimony. In the Beginning, their meetings had been almost entirely in Khuzdul, the old cantankerous dwarves suspicious of the stranger in their mists. Thorin was ashamed to say he hadn’t noticed at first their treatment of his husband, how they excluded and barred Bilbo from participating in conversations and the ruling of his Kingdom. It wasn’t until Thranduil stopped by to pay his respects that things changed. The Elvenking was being particularly contrary and refused to talk in anything but Sindarin, and Bilbo was the only one who could translate.
That day, Bilbo proved himself to more than just the Councilmen. It brought a new light to Bilbo’s eyes and he knew then, the true meaning of his role in Erebor and beside Thorin on the throne. In addition to standing up to Thranduil’ s unreasonable demands, he was still able to keep a harmonious relationship between the two Kingdoms. After that, the Councilmen had taken to including Bilbo in every meeting they could.
“Your mind wanders,” Bilbo teased, shrugging his bracers off.
“I promise I am thinking of you,” Thorin said, tossing his own clothes off. He hated wearing the ceremonial robes when the elven delegation visited, but Thorin enjoyed their pinched expression when he wore the heavy brocaded and jeweled garments. His dwarvish pride fluttered with glee at every instance he agitated an elf.
Bilbo sniffed. “You better. I was supposed to meet with Ori after I finished my reports, so if you lied to me about him going home, you can bet this will be the last time you find yourself in my bed.”
Thorin hummed, watching with hooded eyes as Bilbo slowly undressed. He loved how completely unconscious the hobbit was about displaying his body to Thorin. The curve of his stomach, the flush of his bare chest, the freckles that lined down his back and to rump, all of it flaunted for Thorin to see, for him to worship. His heart fluttered like he was gazing at Bilbo for the first time, new and untarnished by time.
“Dear,” the hobbit said in exasperation, probably having repeated himself more than once. “Please, can you help me with these?” Bilbo turned his back to Thorin, shaking his head and causing the beads sprinkled about his hair to ring as they softly impacted against each other.
“Of course.” Thorin jumped forward to assist. He loved his nightly duty of helping Bilbo unclip the beads from his hair. It was a pleasure every dwarf sought to experience, having their One trust them so implicitly to let them touch their braids, though Bilbo only sported one braid near his temple. Callused fingers made quick work of the jeweled beads, and Thorin admired how the hobbit’s curls glistened like gold in the firelight. He couldn’t resist dragging his fingers through them, causing Bilbo to lean into his touch, and placing light kisses along the hobbit’s freckled shoulder. “You are so beautiful. How lucky I am to receive your love. Your radiance outshines even the purist of mithril veins. I shall have a carving commissioned of you, so all can see for themselves the true magnificence of the Mountain. Maybe one of the time you first stepped into Erebor, ready to steal from a dragon and free a sleeping Kingdom.”
“Stop it,” Bilbo groaned, blushing like a maiden. “There will be no carving. It will just remind me of how old I’m getting.”
“Old?” Thorin scoffed, helping Bilbo wiggling out of his trousers. “You look the same as you did when we first met on your doorsteps.”
Bilbo twisted in his arms and reached up to tug at the dwarf’s braids. “Silly dwarf, you are getting senile in your dotage.”
“Dotage!” Thorin scoffed, scooping Bilbo up in his arms. “I’ll show you dotage!”
Shrieking with laughter, Bilbo wrapped his arms around Thorin’s neck and peppered his face with kisses, causing the dwarf to stumble a few times before he tossed the hobbit on their bed.
“Be gentle with these old bones,” Bilbo said with mirth, squirming back against the large pillows and spreading his shapely thighs for Thorin to kneel between. “If you are too rough, I might just break.”
Thorin had to bite his lips to keep from laughing. If there was anything in their relationship that might break, it would be Thorin’s self-restraint. Often Bilbo cried out for ‘more’ or ‘harder’, never seemingly able to get enough of their love making. Had Thorin been a younger dwarf, he wouldn’t have been able to keep up. Thankfully, age and composure had helped him deal with having a spritely lover, and even if he didn’t have the stamina to always keep pace, he did have the fortitude to find other ways to keep Bilbo pleased in the bedroom.
“You test me,” Thorin growled, tugging Bilbo’s hairy ankles up to his shoulders. “I will have you screaming for release and--”
Thorin was cut off by a coughing sound that distinctly wasn’t Bilbo’s. He sat up quickly, looking around for an intruder.
“Did you hear that?”
Bilbo, rubbing at his cock through the last bit of clothing he wore, did not seem to notice. “Hmm?”
Sitting back, Thorin glanced over the room. There didn’t seem to be anything out of place, no obvious trespasser waiting in the dark corners for their return. Gandalf once had been an uninvited audience to their bedroom fondling, and Thorin had hoped never to experience that again.
“Never mind,” Thorin said, finding nothing that could have made the sound. “Maybe I am getting old.”
Bilbo blinked innocently up at him. “Too old to keep up with your hobbit?”
Thorin smirked, “Never that.”
The hobbit practically purred with pleasure, moving sinuously against the silk sheets as Thorin’s hands wandered the flushed expanse of skin before him. Thorin deftly plucked at the strings to Bilbo’s smallclothes, slowly untying them like a child opening his first present. Bilbo arched his back, mewling out for more.
A vase on a wardrobe cabinet across the room tumbled from its perch onto the floor. The sound of shattered glass cut through the sexually-charged atmosphere like a hot knife through butter. Both occupants startled in surprise, Bilbo curling up and kicking Thorin in the head as the dwarf groped for his sword beside the nightstand. They fumbled for a moment, limbs tangling up and accidently striking sensitive places, but they were able to get to their feet without much problem.
“What was that?”
Bilbo shook his head, blue eyes wide with trepidation as he shrugged on his robe. “I don’t know. Do you suppose it was the wind?”
Thorin frowned. Still only in his trousers with a sword, he walked to the cabinet to investigate.
“Oh,” Bilbo gasped, peeking over his husband’s shoulder. “That was the vase Aunt Mirabella gave us for the wedding. I told you not to put it on top of the wardrobe.”
“No loss,” Thorin commented, using the scabbard of Orcrist to move some of the shards away.
“Thorin,” Bilbo scolded, kneeling down to pick up the larger pieces while Thorin checked the cabinet. There wasn’t evidence he could see that pointed to an intruder, though one of the doors hung open awkwardly, he could not find what could have caused the vase to fall. Maybe Bilbo had been right and the wind had blown through the open balcony hard enough to bang the cabinet door and knock the vase off? It was odd though that Thorin hadn’t heard it or even felt the wind, half-naked as he was. However he would admit to being very distracted in that moment to take notice of anything besides Bilbo.
After putting away his sword and haft-heartedly cleaning up, Thorin paused to let Bilbo press a simple kiss to the side of his lips. “I’m sorry dear, I’m not much in the mood right now to continue. I’m going to have a bath. You can join me once you’re done here.”
Thorin grumbled good-naturedly about the left over mess. He didn’t mind cleaning the rest of it as long as there was a reward waiting for him at the end of it. A nice warm bath with Bilbo would more than make up for his work, and if he was lucky, he could help his husband get back in the mood to continue where the left off.
“Don’t keep me waiting.” Bilbo gave Thorin a wink over his shoulder, his robe slipping and teasing him with a flash of skin.
As the hobbit disappeared into the bathroom there was loud exhalation of air, too loud to be just one person. Thorin jumped to his feet before Bilbo could even cry out, reaching for his sword and scrambling to get to the bathroom before any harm could come to his Consort. Holding his sword at the ready, he charged in, hollering in Khuzdul. No doubt the guards stationed outside the bedroom would hear him and storm in to help.
“Thorin!”
There was a shriek, many shrieks, as Bilbo grabbed for Thorin’s arms to stop him from cutting down his enemies. Thorin skidded to a stop, yanking Bilbo behind him to protect him from the intruders.
“Wait, wait, Thorin don’t!” Bilbo scrambled at Thorin’s back, his nails scratching at his skin.
Two cowering dwarves were on the other side of the bathing room, crouched in a corner and shielding themselves with a bedpan. Neither of them couldn’t have been older than forty!
“What in Mahal’s--” Thorin started to ask when Dwalin kicked down the door. There was a flurry of movement, guards in armor marching in and surrounding the monarchs. Dwalin reached out and yanked the oldest looking tween up by his scruff, dangling him like a pup from one arm.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“We’re sorry! S-so sorry!” The blond pleaded, holding the pan up to hide his face from Dwalin’s glare. The younger one scrambled for something to hide behind, grasping a toilet plunger and holding it before him like a weapon before he noticed what it was.
“Dwalin put him down,” Bilbo yelled, stomping his bare foot on the marble floor. His irritation caused his robe to flap open, revealing a dusty pink nipple to the others around them. Thorin burned both hot with want and cold with anger that others were seeing what did not belong to them. “I know him--them. Release him this instant.”
Both Thorin and Dwalin turned slowly to stare at the hobbit. “What.”
Blushing wildly and fixing his robe, Bilbo tried to avoid the unnerving stare from the dwarves around him. “They’re just children. Please, they mean no harm. I was just startled. The guards are not needed for this.”
Dwalin gave Thorin a look that absolutely meant this was something he had to deal with. He dropped the blond tween unceremoniously, wrenching a cry of surprise from the two intruders. They both dropped their makeshift armaments and scooted quickly into each other’s arms, hugging tightly and patting each other down looking for injuries. In a flash of reminiscence, Thorin remembered Fili and Kili at that age, always up to the worst of mischief and causing Thorin grief. It was a wonder that Ered Luin still stood today from the Princes’ combined efforts to tear it down around them.
Wrangling the guards in order, the bald dwarf gave Thorin one last exasperated look before slipping from the room, taking the broken door with him.
Thorin stared at Bilbo. “Leave.”
“What? No!” Bilbo said quickly, expression confused and hurt.
“Bilbo,” Thorin sighed. “Please. I must… talk with these dwarves myself.”
“Don’t hurt them.” Bilbo said in a rush, adamant the teary eyed dwarves meant him no harm. “They’re children. I know them, I know their family. They’re good people, Thorin. I promise.”
“Bilbo.” Thorin knew his voice was like stone. There would be no argument about this. Thorin had to deal with this intrusion without Bilbo’s kindness there to impede his punishment. No matter the dwarves age, they should not be in the King’s room uninvited, much less in the bathroom where the nearly naked Consort was.
Whispering words of comfort to the two young tween, Bilbo patted each of them on the head, reassuring them that everything would be fine. Thorin tried not to roll his eyes at the display of compassion, but he knew that Bilbo would nurse a warg pup if he came across one. His soft hobbit heart would not let any harm come to those he thought innocent enough to deserve his sympathy.
Once Bilbo was finally out of the room, Thorin turned to glare at the two tween. With the hobbit gone, a change came over them, and they unfolded from their crouch, quivering appearance like flowers in the sun, dusting off their clothes and looking up at Thorin unapologetically. The youngest one in particular gave Thorin a impish smirk.
“Would either of you like to explain what you are doing in my bathroom.” Thorin did not let the young dwarf’s impertinent expression get to him. He’d dealt with worse.
“We uh, um, just wanted to look around?” The blond said, his expression a bit more contrite at the King’s glare than his brother.
“You dare lie to your King?” Thorin knew he sounded haughty, but he hoped the grievance of their transgression would make them confess more readily. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his evening interrogating children when he had a nice warm hobbit waiting for him in bed.
“W-we wanted Master Baggins,” the younger brunet said proudly, despite his stuttering.
“To see Master Baggins,” the brother said quickly, trying to cover up the other’s confession. “See him. That was all.”
Thorin gritted his teeth and his fist tightened around the hilt of his sword. Had the conspirators against him sent children to assassinate his Consort? It was a truly fiendish and clever ruse. Had Thorin not been with him, Bilbo would not have raised the alarm at seeing two seemingly innocent children in their private rooms. He would have helplessly turned his unguarded back on his adversaries and granted them easy access to hurt him.
“You conspire against the crown of Erebor!” Thorin hissed, tense with fury.
“Well,” the young dwarf held up a finger. “Just o-one crown, not both.”
“There is only one crown in Erebor!” Thorin yelled, frustration and anger making him see red. Did his people dislike Bilbo so much they would plot to take Thorin’s One away from him? He’d thought things had improved in Erebor. Even the notoriously difficult Councilmen had taken to Bilbo, preferring his company over their King’s at their meetings. Thorin would have been troubled by it all if he didn’t find their talks of crop yields and elvish relations mind-numbingly boring. But still, even the common people had seemed to favor Bilbo.
“You dare challenge the wrath of Durin,” he growled, pulling his sword back out and leveling it at the two tweens. “You conspired to hurt the Consort of Erebor and dishonor your King, I will have your beard and you will spend the rest of your long lives in the dungeons.”
“A-about that,” the blond fumbled, tripping back behind his smaller brother. “We actually like the Consort. The Consort is good! Great even! We would never dream of hurting Master Baggins! My s-sister would have my beard if I ever thought of doing something to him. She works out in the fields, you see, and he’s the one who helped the farmers get the seeds and a raise for their hard work. She says no other nobleman understands what she has to go through and what she needs to get the job done to feed Erebor. She practically worships the ground he walks on. So, um, I’d never conspire against the Consort.”
“Yeah!” The other one piped up, brows furrowing mulishly as he stood in front of Thorin’s sword. “We’d only conspire against your crown, not Master Baggins.”
“What.” Thorin felt like a rug had been tugged out from under his feet and his anger abruptly vanished.
“Not that we are conspiring anything!” The other said hastily, flushing until his nose was so red it looked like he’d placed a large tomato on his face. “We didn’t want to hurt either or you. It was all innocent, promise.”
“Innocent,” Thorin said weakly, looking at them both for deception. They were so honestly moronic that the dwarf thought it could be possible they meant Bilbo no harm. Still, better safe than sorry. “Innocent how?”
“Umm,” the blond nibbled on his bottom lip, unable to meet Thorin’s eye. “Well, Master Baggins is just so beautiful.”
“And nice!” the other added loudly.
“Yes, beautiful and compassionate. The best sort there is, very humble, very gracious. He’s like, like…um…”
“A fairy prince!” Thorin was starting to think the younger one was always loud, even in the sort of situation where a sword was leveled at him. He reminded Thorin of Kili at that age, always opening his mouth and inserting his boot at every opportunity. Not that much had changed since growing up. Kili wasn’t’ exactly known for his diplomatic skills, though that didn’t stop Thorin from making him emissary to Mirkwood.
“Uh, yeah, a fairy prince. You know the sort in the olden tales. He’s just so perfect. I’m amazed he’d consent to marry your sort and all.”
Thorin felt deeply offended by that. “My sort? And what sort am I that I do not deserve Bilbo.”
The younger one kicked at the ground, pouting pigheadedly at the floor. “Old. Cranky. You frown a lot too. If I was married to Master Baggins, I’d be smiling all the time.”
Thorin gapped. Old? He was not old! A snigger was heard on the other side of the door and Thorin didn’t have one doubt that Dwalin was listening in. Bilbo would not have even attempted to cover his amusement if he was listening.
“I smile. Wait, whether I smile enough or not is not in question. Bilbo is my husband, my One. He pleases me enough I’d have no compunction about skewering two disruptive dwarves for spying on us during our private time.”
Both dwarves flushed, looking anywhere but at Thorin. “Um, uh, we didn’t mean to w-watch that.”
Dread filled Thorin and he looked towards the ceiling, praying for patience. “You saw.”
The blond nodded slowly. “I’m sorry. Grum was in the wardrobe when you both first came in. While you were, um….d-distracted, I had him run to me in the bathroom. We didn’t mean to break the vase. It was an accident.”
The brunette, or Grum, pursed his lips and kicked at vanity awkwardly. “I don’t understand, why was Master Baggins begging for mercy but also smiling. Was he in pain?”
Thorin sputtered. There was no way he was going to give that sort of talk to a dwarf that had no relations to him. “Mahal, never mind that! I cannot condone you two for spying on your King and his Consort, no matter where or what he was doing. If you had any respect for either of us--for Bilbo, you would not have sought to spy on him in private. Only elves do that sort of thing.”
Both tweens gasped like Thorin had cursed their mother and called their father beardless.
“No! We definitely respect Master Baggins.”
“We’re not elves,” Grum pleaded, “I promise!”
Never let it be said that Fili and Kili did not learn their mischievous ways from their father alone. Thorin did have some hand in raising them after all.
Thorin sheathed his sword and put his hands on his hips. He glowered at the two tweens. “You both have dishonored the King’s Consort. You know nothing of hobbits and their ways. To his people, they only bare themselves before their One and you two conspired to see what is not yours. Now my husband believes he has violated his marriage vows and will seek to acquit himself before me for your crimes. In Bilbo’s hobbit custom, you have defiled his integrity as a worthy husband, and instead of punishing you, he is too kind and will chastise himself for this deed.”
The two tween gulped loudly, faces pale. Thorin felt amused by the sight of their horror. That will teach the two upstarts to sneak into his bedroom to glance at the King’s naked husband.
“B-but we never meant any harm!”
“Yeah, Master Baggins never did anything. It’s o-our entire fault! Please, you must let him know that. We were just overcome by his beauty.”
That admission startled Thorin. He knowledge Bilbo’s beauty almost every day, knew there was no other that outshone the moon and stars in their splendor as Bilbo did, but it was somewhat shocking to hear others admit to Thorin something that he had always thought he worshiped on his own. Bilbo had never really fit what other dwarves consider an ideal beauty. Lacking a thick beard and heavy muscles, with his short stature and hairy feet, Bilbo’s features where not what a story book would consider attractive to a dwarf. But to Thorin, Bilbo was the epitome of beauty, both inside and out.
“I will talk to him,” Thorin said calmly. “But you should learn to control yourselves. Beauty is no excuse to dishonor someone. It will take a long time for Bilbo to forgive himself of this shame. You must remember he is a hobbit and their ways are different from ours. What might seem innocent and silly to you might not be the same for him.”
“Of course,” they agreed readily, nodding their heads eagerly. “We understand. We’ll let the other know about this too.”
“What,” Thorin said stonily. “What others?”
“Yeah,” the blond jumped to his feet. “Dórmin planned to climb the terrace to get a peek tomorrow. He was even going to bring flowers and try to woo Master Baggins too. Though he’s not a very good singer so no one believed he could do it. We’ll spread the word though, you can count on us.”
“Planned to--” Thorin coughed, bewildered by the information that more dwarves planned to spy on Bilbo. “Get out of here, now! Dwalin, tell Master Dori he has two new apprentices. These two obviously have too much time on their hand if they are sneaking into the royal wing. A few weeks polishing the soldier’s armor will do them some good.”
The two jumped to do as commanded, slipping out the door quietly and into the guard’s waiting arms. Dwalin gave Thorin a nod before herding them off, expression grim. Despite how amusing the situation might be to Dwalin, Thorin knew that his trusted friend would see to these other whom coveted what Thorin had earned. It was no laughing matter that two clumsy tweens had snuck into the royal bedrooms without anybody noticing. If it had really been an assassin, Bilbo could have been in grave danger.
Storming into his bedroom, Thorin caught sight of Bilbo lying comfortable in their bed, under the covers in his night shift, with a book in hand and a candle burning nearby. It was a common scene, but no less dear to Thorin because of its simplicity. His dwarf heart thrilled at the knowledge that he’s won Bilbo over and had secured him in marriage, knowing that no other would enjoy the hobbit’s company like Thorin would, despite their attempts to peek at his husband.
Setting his sword aside and slipping his trousers off. Thorin looked the hobbit over, inspecting to see if Bilbo was upset with him for kicking the hobbit out of the bathroom. For all the excitement that happened earlier, Bilbo seemed almost too unperturbed by it all now for Thorin to completely relax.
“Will you be able to sleep tonight?” He asked softly, wondering if his husband was just too upset to show how distraught he was. Bilbo sometimes got very quiet when something deeply disturbed him and it would take a while for him to open up even to Thorin about the subject.
Bilbo turned the page. “I don’t know husband,” he said a bit too casually. “It’s impossible for me to even think of sleep right now. I have defiled our marriage vows, how will you ever forgive?”
Thorin groaned, slumping into the bed. “They should not have been peeking at what wasn’t theirs.”
“Really Thorin,” Bilbo said in exasperation, marking his place and setting the book down. “I’m pretty sure more than just you have seen me naked. I think you went a bit far this time.”
“Who else has seen you naked?” Thorin was ashamed to hear his voice crack, but he was rather startled by his husband’s confession.
Bilbo sniffed primly. “Please, as if you don’t know. Our travels did not lend me any sort of privacy to bathe without being viewed. My memory might be getting shoddy, but I’m sure I distinctly remember a certain roguish, belligerent dwarf sitting across from me in the hot baths at Rivendell and watching me bathe. Then your nephews practically cannonballed in my lap. My delicate hobbit sensibilities almost drowned themselves at the impropriety of it all.”
Thorin fluffed up his pillows, trying to act nonchalantly at his husband’s teasing. “I did not know Dwalin watched you so pertinently. I should have a talk with him and make sure that we have not broken his heart with our marriage. One should not carry such anguish for his friend’s happiness.”
Smothering a laugh, Bilbo rolled his eyes. “You do that. Just make sure I am around when you say it, I’d like to see Dwalin’s reaction when you accuse him of harboring secret longing for my nubile body.”
“Nubile,” Thorin groaned, rolling over to gaze at his husband. “Can you believe that? Here I am thinking someone trying to attack us while we are vulnerable and instead I find two teenagers trying to get a peek at my naked husband. Mahal bless us if that’s the worst offenses I encounter as King.”
Bilbo laughed, fitting his body against Thorin’s and snuggling against his chest. “I think it’s rather flattering.”
“You would,” Thorin grumped, placing a tender kiss against the hobbit’s temple.
“Hmm,” Bilbo hummed, petting his fingers through the thick fur on Thorin’s chest. “You know, there’s this traditional hobbit custom to reaffirm our union vows and since I’ve apparently unwittingly besmirched ours, I think we should attempt it.”
“Oh?” Thorin raised an eyebrow and tried not to smile, his hands smoothing down Bilbo’s back under his shift. It seemed Bilbo might be back in a mood to continue where they left off.
“Mmm,” Bilbo hummed, pressing a light kiss over the dwarf’s heart. “It involves us being naked and alone for a whole night. No interruptions.”
“Of course.”
“Yes,” Bilbo said, his hand trailing down Thorin’s stomach under the sheets. His stomach jumped as Bilbo’s cold fingers traced over the sensitive scar tissue there before dipping past his bellybutton and farther down. “There are lots of movements, very strenuous, sweating, touching and such, over and over again. You might get quite sticky. More than you’re used to I’m sure. But please understand, this is just a hobbit custom to reaffirm my dedication to our union. If you do not think I have been a dutiful husband I can stop and confine myself for the ritual fasting. I’m afraid though that my lustful habits would overwhelm me though and I will probably end up pleasuring myself to thought of you.”
Thorin threw his head back against the pillows and groaned aloud. “Why do other races consider you hobbits to be so peaceful? You obviously are evil, the worst of them all.”
Smirking rather wickedly, Bilbo reached over to the side table and pulled a slip of string from one of the drawers. “Arms up,” he ordered, shuffling up to his knees so he could arrange Thorin how he wanted.
“What are you--” Thorin started to say, but was startled by the soft metal that twisted around his wrists and tied him to the headboard. “Did you just tie me up with elven rope?”
“I did,” Bilbo stated, glowing with pride.
Thorin tried to wrench his hands forward, attempting to break free of the knot. It turned out he was rather securely tied to his own bed, the thought of which sent a shiver of anticipation coursing down his spine and pooling in his belly. He was rather curious to see what Bilbo had planned for him. “May I ask why?”
“You’ll see.” Bilbo wiggled out of his own shift, displaying once again the splendid expanse of rosy pink skin that others were so desperate to get a glance at. As Thorin’s eyes absorbed the loveliness before him, his own cock twitched in growing pleasure. He had a feeling he would be enjoying this captivity more than the ones he experienced before.
Later, when Thorin’s mind and body were not overwhelmed with ecstasy, he did concede that he did not deserve Bilbo Baggins either. But he was not old, no matter what some upstart said.
****