Chapter Text
Preparing himself in his chambers Bilbo found his hands trembling too much to do the fine buttons on his tunic. He gave a small curse and sighed. His brothers had offered to help him but now he understood why Dis had banished everyone from her chambers on her wedding day. There were too many thoughts going through his head! What if Thorin changed his mind? Or did something incredibly stupid again? They hadn’t courted a full year as was tradition what if they were rushing into this? What if they regretted it? What if Thorin decided he wanted the Arkenstone back? It was too late now; far too late to ever get that cursed stone back.
There was a knock on the door and Bilbo gave up doing the buttons with a sigh and a sharp curse. There was no help for it he would have to see if whoever was on the other side of that door would do it for him. He wondered if he should feel so unsettled before the wedding. Surely that was normal? Though he would freely admit he would rather be stealing the Arkenstone again than facing this.
Opening the door he swallowed a breath as Fundin looked down at him with a smile. “I thought you might need some help or maybe some wedding day counsel as might be the case.”
The years (and possibly the antics of his three sons) had aged the formidable dwarf. Bilbo remembered when his hair had been mostly black with some streaks of grey in it and his face had looked distinguished rather than wrinkled. Nowadays he was still handsome but the black had faded to a dark grey and there were thick ropes of white entangled in his braids. His face was weathered but the lines spoke of more joy than sorrow and his eyes were still clear and bright.
Bilbo felt his expression waver for a moment and Fundin ushered him back inside the room. The father hummed to himself as he poured them each a glass of wine and started helping Bilbo with the buttons. “On my wedding day I remember faintly praying by some miracle a battle would break out or some crisis or another would arise and give me more time to come to terms with the idea.” He sighed and helped put the thick velvet coat in Durin’s colors over the white silk “And at the same time I couldn’t wait another second to be with my One.”
Bilbo was quiet as Fundin helped him dress. He was wearing more traditional dwarven clothing since this was a King’s court and he was marrying into the royal family. He still refused shoes and though the advisors had made a huff about it Thorin had insisted that Bilbo would at least be comfortable for his own ceremony. The white silk tunic was mostly covered by a thick velvet coat that was embroidered with silver and mithril and the buttons were sapphires. He personally thought it was a little ostentatious but there was no arguing on this matter. It was topped with a long silvery white cloak trimmed in white fur and Bilbo despaired at ever having a proper reason to wear it again. It was clasped with diamonds for heaven’s sake! At the very least he had been able to participate in the hobbit tradition of the bridegroom wearing a ring of flowers. They were crafted out of silver and jewels and pulled oddly on his braids but at the very least the gesture was there. Thorin had crafted the crown himself and that’s what made it precious to Bilbo.
He also wore the final courting gift Thorin had given him and the locket did look charming with his ensemble as gaudy as it was. Finally he felt as though he could breathe again and looked at Fundin for a long moment. “What if I’m making a mistake?”
Fundin looked down at his youngest son and smiled softly. It had been a long time since his fiercely independent hobbit child had looked so vulnerable. He carefully straightened the clothes and fussed with his braids. Part of him wanted to encourage Bilbo to wait, to see if the madness that ran in the Durin blood was already inside of Thorin; yet at the same time he knew it was not. Standing before him he didn’t see his accomplished scout, renowned spy master, or skilled warrior. He saw the little fauntling with messy hair and tear streaks drying on his face looking up at a dwarf who was a stranger to him with all the determination in the world.
His heart twisted painfully and despite himself he felt a few tears welling up in his eyes. His sons were fully grown and dwarves (and hobbits) he could be proud of. Dwalin had a successful courtship of his own, Balin was the advisor to a future king and Bilbo…Bilbo had surprised them all by going father and daring more than they had ever imagined. “You’re not making a mistake. You’ve always been sure of yourself even when you thought you weren’t. This is your next adventure and I’m so very proud that I get to see it.” He kissed Bilbo’s forehead and then rested his own against it. “Now…time to be going. We mustn’t be late for your own wedding.”
Bilbo swallowed a sniffle and nodded. That wouldn’t be proper at all.
Thorin thought he might die here at the altar waiting for those doors to open and reveal whether or not Bilbo still hadn’t come to his senses. Why would the hobbit marry him? He was rude, temperamental, quick to anger, not to mention the madness in his blood. Perhaps Bilbo wasn’t coming. Perhaps he had realized all of this and had run back to Belegost with his father. Would Balin and Dwalin be upset or relieved? If he had messed this up again Dis was sure to kill him.
Then all at once the music started and the doors opened and Thorin forgot how to breathe. As with Dis’ wedding the path to the alter was lit with small candles and white rose petals were thrown in the air as Bilbo passed. Not everyone who attended the wedding knew who he was or what importance he held. That had been one of Bilbo’s conditions to be married; he would still be Mad Baggins and serve as Thorin’s personal spymaster. Thorin had been reluctant but agreed. The soft lights reflected on the silver and jewels that covered Bilbo’s form but Thorin could not tear his eyes away from Bilbo’s expression. The hobbit looked so happy and Thorin realized he could draw breath again in relief. Despite everything, despite every failing and every disappointment Bilbo had still chosen him as his One. He swore to himself that every day he would prove to Bilbo he had chosen rightly and that Thorin had deserved his second chance.
This time Ori officiated the wedding and the young scribe did well despite the high color on his cheeks as Dwalin watched him closely. Their families stood mingled together Fundin next to Thrain, Dwalin and Balin near Xili and Dis and Frerin and Zhe standing quietly together smiling and holding close as they watched a wedding like the one they would soon be having.
“Yer crying brother.” Balin whispered as he handed a handkerchief to Dwalin.
“No I’m not.” Dwalin hissed back even as he took the cloth and dabbed at his eyes.
Dis had no such compulsion and was openly crying as she rocked Kili in her arms and Xili held Fili and tried to keep the baby quiet for the ceremony.
Thorin looked at their families and felt his heart swell. This was right. This was as it should be. When Bilbo came to stand next to him their hands found each other and their eyes could not look away as Ori spoke the words over them and they were bound as one for now and for forever. Beyond sorrow, beyond pain, beyond even death itself. They were together at last.