Chapter Text
Three days past the attack on the Fili and Bilbo, another kind of rush pushed through the Durins. As the first bell echoed through Erebor, Dwarrows awoke to get back into a rhythm under the Mountain, but not teh Durins. No, they sat around the clinics, the lamps providing all the light they needed.
“It will be a few hours,” Oin told the Royals and teh Company gravely, “We must be through. Everything is prepared, so don’t you worry, aye? Filli will be as good as a newborn babe.”
A newborn indeed, learning how to walk without a limb. Dis sighed. Rubbing her templed, but nodding nevertheless.
Balin said, “When will we know for sure?”
“Not before sundown,” Oin said with a huff, “It is not just a matter of operation. There is much to observe. I would suggest you all go to work. Shoo!”
Yet saying and doing were two very different things. An hour into the doors closing on their faces, the Durins remained scattered in the hallway. One of their own lay helpless inside the room, with the best news carrying the loss of a limb.
It was not the first time, nor would it be the last that a dwarf would be without a limb. They were made of stone, ready to weather the turnings of the world. Yet every loss, every scar carried pain they would not forget.
Frerin was the first to get up, on the third hour, with a promise, “I will be back after lunch.”
Bofur was next, saying, “Somebody has to know what is happening while you all mope around here.”
Nobody saw Nori disappear, but it was somewhere between the third and fifth hour. By the time midday rolled around, only Bilbo, Thorin, Dis and Kili sat outside.
Dis found it heartwarming that her brother-in-law, even in a state such as his, would choose to sit through excruciating hours of doing nothing and waiting for her son. She liked the Hobbit and learned much from the surprise visitors in her cavern, but seeing the Hobbit in real life was something else altogether. It brought her peace, the idea that at the end of the day, she would have someone else to count on.
Silence carried on, but at one point even she found it unbearable. When Ori brought in, carrying baskets of food, courtesy of Bombur, and almost forced the four to feed, she turned to Thorin.
“So what lessons are we to endure?”
Bilbo blinked, “Lessons?”
Beside him, Kili groaned, “Must we? Truly?”
Thorin chuckled, looking around, “Out of all of us, only I have ever known the ways of dwarrow, that too barely. If we are to rule Erebor, it is necessary to know the ways of our ancestors.”
Bilbo scoffed, “Are you sending me back to school?”
“If I must,” Thorin teased.
Dis chuckled as Bilbo faux-glared at his husband.
“And who will be our teacher? Balin.”
“Father would be better.”
Bilbo blinked once, then twice, “No. Absolutely not.”
“Bilbo-”
“He is your father and your King, Thorin, but I am not sitting through a single moment more than I have to with him.”
That got Dis frowning, “Has Adad offended you so, Bilbo?”
“Ah, well,” Bilbo huffed, “He and I have had our…differences.”
“That’s a nice way to say that they hate each other,“ Kili whispered conspirately.
Dis raised an eyebrow. That was not expected.
“I do not hate him!” exclaimed Bilbo, “I just, well, we have not had the best of interactions.”
“Don’t you think it’s time to change that, Ghivashel?” Thorin said softly, a look in his eyes that Dis had barely seen before, “I know his actions were despicable, but it was a bad time. I do not wish for us to move forward with discontent in our hearts.”
Dis leaned back, gesturing Kili to lean forward.
“And what exactly happened here?” she whispered.
Kili sighed, “It’s a long story Amad. I shall tell you later.”
It was not the most acceptable for her, but Dis agreed. Matters under the Mountain were more dire than she expected.
Past sunset, when dwarrow had begun to settle down, was finally when Oin emerged. The empty hallways were full again, filled with tired Durins and worried Company. Bilbo had again groaned at the foul-smelling tea but drank it religiously, Dreya patting his back. Thorin and Frerin had once again fought over some foolish issue, only for Thrain to quiet them like squabbling children. Bifur had brought out some wood to whittle, whistling, getting Bofur and Nori to join in. When Dwalin arrived, at last, tired to his core, he turned to Thorin.
“Any news?” he asked gruffly.
Thorin shook his head, “Not yet.”
It was not a long wait. Oin walked out, his moustache wilting and back hunched, but a serene look on his face.
Everyone stood, eyes wide, ready for anything from best to worst. Oin just sighed.
“Did y’all do anything?”
“Oin,” Thorin said in his grave voice, “Do not stall. Is Fili well?”
With a dazzling smile, he said, “Aye, the lad lives!”
Chaos erupted, everyone laughing and hugging in joy.
“And his leg?”
Kili’s question made it all pause.
Oin clasped his shoulder, “As we said laddie, it had to go. But your brother lives, and he will live long. You shall go see him. He might a li’l loopy, but he is well.”
“Fili?”
The golden prince’s eyes open slowly, revelling in the moment of sleep. His mind wandered as he looked around, looking for something or someone. When he saw the ensemble in the room, he smiled.
His Idads, His Amad and brother- everyone who mattered was already there.
“How are you feeling?” His Amad asked, holding onto his shoulder.
Fili hummed, letting teh calm wash over him, “I want a pig.”
It was Kili’s surprised laugh which attracted Fili’s attention, “Mahal, Fili! A pig?”
“Their noses are so cute,” Fili said with all seriousness, “You see how they move, Oink oink!”
At Fili’s impeccable impressions, everyone laughed. Thorin held Fili’s shoulder and said, “Dain would be more than happy to provide you with a pig.”
“Dain is here?” Fili asked, excited, “Oh, I need to see him! He still owes me those ten coins.”
Just like that, Fili tried to get up and get out, but was immediately pushed by Thorin and Dis, “Careful, FIli!”
At first, it did not register to FIli what happened, but when the pain in his leg became a little more known, he looked down.
He could tell what had happened. Without meaning, he pouted.
“I liked the leg,” he said mournfully.
To everyone’s surprise, Kili burst out laughing at that. FIli, seeing his little brother smile, also started laughing. He did not quite understand what was so funny about a stump, but if Kili laughed, surely it was hilarious.
So when Kili wrapped himself around his body, sobbing, Fili frowned.
“Whatever is the matter?” he asked, looking at his family, “Amad, why do you cry?”
“Oh, my boy,” she gently caressed his head, “You are truly a son of a lion.”
“But I am your son,” he said, confused, still holding Kili, “Uncle Bilbo, whatever is happening?”
“You seem have to drunk too much is what,” Bilbo chuckled, wiping his own tears, “Sleep, hmm? When you wake, we will talk more.”
“Well, if you say so,” muttered Fili, remnants of sleep poking through his consciousness, “But make sure to get a pig. And Dain. Cousin Dain, indeed.”
The next day, before the first bell could even ring, Dreya found herself with a peculiar request.
“A forge?”
“Yes.”
Dreya frowned, “Why…do you …need a forge?”
“Well, it’s more for my Husband. But we have an idea.”
That did not settle any of her questions.
“Well…we have a few in working condition…but what?”
Her questioning did not cease even after she granted teh request. So much so that after midday, she all but dragged her husband and sister-in-law to the forge.
“Look!”
Frerin’s mouth fell open, “Why is Thorin in a forge?”
“Better question,” Dis huffed, “Why is Bilbo in the forge?”
Frerin and Dis tried to rush in, but Dreya helped them back and said, “No look!”
Look indeed. Thorin was stripped to his bare chest, while Bilbo’s sleeves were rolled back. Despite being pregnant, he hurried around as a perfect assistant. Handing Thorin tools without him even having to open his mouth.
“Mahal’s beard!” Frerin huffed, “What is going on here?”
The question echoed through the mountain, and soon enough, there was a crowd outside the forge. Everyone looked in awe as the husbands moved in teh sweltering heat with ease.
“Should we,” Ori gulped, “Should we ask Bilbo to come out?”
“He was the one who asked for it,” Dreya shook her head, “I do not know what is going on here but it would not be wise to interrupt.”
“Aye, but he is with babe!” Groin grumbled, “Surely, that is not safe!”
“Say that to a dwarrow and see your nose getting broken,” Dwalin huffed, crossing his arms.
“Bilbo is not a dwarf,” Frerin pointed out.
Bofur chuckled, “But he might as well be.”
Dwarrows were bound to move easily when it came to metal and stones, but to see a Hobbit move as easily in a Dwarven workshop was nothing short of a miracle. Even more, seeing a hobbit assist a dwarf with such ease was unheard of. Dwarrows only took apprentice when they were sure of their art. Thorin was one of the masters, surely, but to take someone as his apprentice in such a case…
“He even kicked Fili and me out when we tried to help!” Kili complained.
“But you forget, laddie,” chuckled Balin, “Bilbo is his husband. I wondered how a hobbit could ever win a dwarf’s heart. It makes sense now, does it not? Our Hobbit has helped our leader in more ways than one.”