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“Your husband…” Thorin’s words trailed off. He desperately desired to know who was the bastard who wrongly thought himself worthy of the divine creature before him.
“Yes, my husband,” said Bilbo, even his name warmed Thorin like molten gold, his blonde curls fell gracefully across sparkling eyes. If only the king realised that those eyes were currently sparkling with mischief. “He’s a truly amazing dwarf.”
A dwarf! He must know him then, but who of his clansman could entrance such a beauty?
“He’s strong. The strongest warrior I know.”
Hah! Surely he was not stronger than Thorin, battle worn and trained since birth. He huffed indignantly, not noticing Bilbo’s amused smirk grow.
“He’s handsome. A smouldering sort of beauty about him.”
What good were looks for a dwarf; that sounded more like an elf! If that was what Bilbo was drawn to though, Thorin wasn’t exactly ugly himself.
“He’s brave. He has saved my life more than once.”
Likely he had exaggerated his deeds to earn the charming hobbit’s gratitude. Such underhanded scheming brought shame to all dwarrow! And if Bilbo desired bravery, then that was something Thorin was certainly not lacking in. He would cast all hesitation aside if given the chance to protect the him!
“And of course, he loves me. He loves me more than I ever could imagine, so much sometimes I don’t know what to do with him.”
Bilbo deserved far more love than this mysterious scheming dwarf could offer him. He deserved adoration, he deserved worship. Thorin would give all of that to him, love him more than any nameless kin, if allowed.
The smile Bilbo gave Thorin was the brightest thing Under the Mountain he had ever set eyes upon, brighter than any diamond or gem in existence.
“He’s a little foolish though, at times. And I wish he would talk to me rather than brooding all to himself.”
“Yes! Foolishness is a failing I do not need in those dwelling under my mountain. Surely you find him wanting also, my lo- uh- Master Baggins?”
The glowing hobbit laughed before stifling it in his hand, Thorin wished he hadn’t. He wanted to bask in that joyful sound for the rest of his days.
“His foolishness endears me to him, actually. I suppose you think me somewhat of a fool myself for saying so.”
“No, certainly not!” Thorin shouted, in a rush to deny he’d ever think any insult against his beloved.
Damn this crafty dwarf. Even without being present he was making Thorin look bad in front of Bilbo.
“I… I am not good with words.”
“That’s quite alright.” The gentleness Bilbo spoke with caused Thorin’s body to warm and heart to stutter, “I’m used to it, my husband often struggles to say what he means.”
And his heart froze once again with those words.
“Your husband, I don’t mean to insult you, but I struggle to believe he is the impressive dwarrow that you have described yet I do not know of him.”
“Oh, you do know of him.” Thorin almost missed Bilbo’s response as the blond encircled the king’s rough hands in two soft warm ones. A tremor shot through his body as he processed this declaration.
Who could it be? Who could possibly have stolen Bilbo’s heart before Thorin could?
“Would you like me to describe him to you?” Thorin wished to refuse, but he ultimately nodded his head. It pained him to hear Bilbo share how he adored his husband, but the king needed to know who his rival was.
“He is strong, brave, and handsome, as I already said. He is also broody, gruff and silly. He is sincere, and loyal, and lovely. He probably would not describe himself as that last one, but I would and he is.”
Thorin’s heart clenched painfully with every word Bilbo added.
“He is somewhat tall for a dwarf, with fierce blue eyes, long dark hair, and beautiful braids. My work, of course.”
“Tell me- tell me his name.” Thorin could bear no more, his voice was low and rough, jaw clenched tight.
“Well, as I said you know him well…. His name just happens to be Thorin Oakenshield.”
The dwarrow king sat stunned as a grin spread over his beloved’s- no, his husband’s face.
“I- don’t jest with me, please.” The gravelly tenure of his voice remained, but his restraint was not from pain but overwhelming joy.
“Truly, truly am I your husband, heart of mine?” The disbelief and hope in Thorin’s voice caused Bilbo’s grin to gentle into something soft and warm.
“Yes, my love. Is this not your bead in my hair?” The king finally had the sense to really look at the creature he had become so instantly besotted with, and just as his darling said, his wedding bead was braided amongst those golden locks.
“Amrâlimê.” A whisper, a plea, a promise.
“Yes, beloved?” Bilbo intertwined his fingers through Thorin’s, lifting his other hand to stroke his husband’s face.
“I think I must still be asleep.” The dark haired dwarrow closed his eyes, leaning into the warm palm holding his cheek.
“Goodness, I can’t help but tease when you’re like this.” Bilbo sighed smilingly. Thorin pretended not to have heard his husband whisper ‘my foolish love’ under his breath.
“Don’t worry darling, Oin was aware this might happen and is sure you’ll recover all your memories in a week at most.”
Opening his eyes, Thorin met Bilbo’s indulgent gaze, “Beloved, could you… forget my behaviour?”
Bilbo’s laughter echoed between them and far down the castle halls.