Between a Rock and a Hard Place Emsiecat

Summary:

A big thank you to evil-bones-mccoy and anonymoussong for inspiring me with their dorky Bagginshield puns.

Chapter Text

Thorin would be the first to admit that while he was a fine warrior, a halfway decent uncle, a competent leader of his kin, and, he hoped, as loving a husband as Bilbo could wish for; he did have his shortcomings.

A rather woeful lack of sense of direction was one. Another was that despite his very best intentions, Thorin had never been particularly adept at intentional jesting.

Most folk remarked that Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror and former King Under the Mountain, had a sharp wit and a very dry sense of humour that only close friends and relations could truly appreciate. However, when it came to trying to tell a joke, Thorin found that his attempts were often met with stony silence or a bemused countenance.

Truly, he blamed his naturally stoic expression; for Dwalin had the same problem as he and they often bore the same kind of unapproachable appearance.

It was not a pressing issue in the slightest; after all, in the grand scheme of things, being able to tell a joke was not usually the most important trait one could offer others.

There were some days though that simply called for a joke. Days where the world weighed too heavily upon the shoulders of those he cared for most. It was on these days that Thorin keenly felt that he was failing in some way, no matter how infinitesimal it may seem.

Today was such a day.

Thorin had returned to Bag End absently twirling a small stone between his fingers as he considered how he might try to shape it into something for Bilbo. A pretty thing it was; a pleasing twining of purples and blues, not Bilbo's usual preferred colours to wear, but he felt the hobbit might like it all the same.

It was as he entered the kitchen that Thorin paused. Bilbo was stood at the sink, furiously scrubbing pots, pans, and dishes. Washing the dishes was a task Thorin usually did himself and he had done so after breakfast this morning, so why Bilbo was washing them again completely baffled the dwarf.

"Bilbo?" Thorin spoke tentatively, brow furrowed slightly in confusion.

It was only as he moved closer to his husband that he realised his dear hobbit was muttering through gritted teeth, face pulled into an impressive scowl as he worked.

"Bilbo," he tried again. "Whatever is the matter?"

"O-oh! Thorin!" Bilbo's slight jolt and quick turn towards the sound of Thorin's voice let the dwarf know that Bilbo had been completely ignorant of his presence up until that point. "I'm sorry; I didn't hear you come in."

"So I see... Ghivashel, why are you washing dishes again?"

"Oh... I just needed something to distract myself, that's all," Bilbo cast his gaze downwards again and fiddled with a soapy mug in his hands. "No use gardening or writing when I feel like this, I'll only end up making a mess of things."

"When you feel like what, Bilbo?"

"Frustrated... angry. I had a bit of a run in with some distant relations earlier. They seemed to be under the impression that I owed them a favour, when I know full well I do not," Bilbo harrumphed and set aside the mug with a little more force than necessary, thankfully it did not chip.

"The Sackville-Bagginses?"

Bilbo's lips quirked, "Surprisingly enough, no."

Thorin decided that for now, whatever had occurred between Bilbo and his family was best left well alone. If Thorin tried to coax details from his husband whilst he was still riled up, it would only make Bilbo feel worse, and seeing Bilbo upset was one thing Thorin found he could not bear.

Bilbo had started on a plate now, scrubbing at the delicate porcelain with a force Thorin knew would only end up damaging it. It was one of Belladonna's old dishes, and though it had once survived an evening of being used in an impromptu game of catch with his own nephews, Thorin feared that this rough treatment might just spell the end of it.

Bilbo would feel incredibly guilty if he broke it.

Reaching out and gently placing a hand over Bilbo's, Thorin rescued the old plate from Bilbo's less than delicate handling, and set it to one side before instinctively wrapping his arms around his husband's shoulders from behind and drawing him close.

"What would you have me do to make you smile again, Bilbo?"

The hobbit was silent for a few moments as he considered the question presented to him, and then hesitantly suggested, "I'm not entirely sure... tell me a joke?"

Thorin grumbled good-naturedly, trust his hobbit to ask the impossible, and did his best to cast about his mind for any joke he might recall another of his kin telling him at some point in time.

A huff, a pause, and then, "An elf walks into a- no... no never mind that one is terrible."

Bilbo remained silent as he waited, and Thorin was thankful to feel a little of the tension leaving Bilbo's posture as he continued to hold him.

It was then that Thorin recalled the stone he still held and inspiration struck. It was probably as bad as the joke about the elf but...

Thorin nuzzled the back of Bilbo's neck briefly before twirling the stone between his fingers once more so that Bilbo would notice it.

"I would tell you any number of jokes to make you smile again, my dearest one. However, I fear they would fluorite over your head."

Bilbo stilled, breath catching, spluttered in indignation for a moment, and then seemed to notice the odd pronunciation of that particular word coupled with the self same stone in Thorin's palm. "D-did you just-"

Emboldened, Thorin tried again. "You should ignore those family members and not give in, âzyungâl. They are just taking you for granite because you are always so gneiss."

"Y-you did you just-" Bilbo cut himself off with a slightly choked sound and his shoulders began to shake with what Thorin was delighted to find were barely suppressed giggles.

"Of quartz, I could always talc to them for you if you think it would help."

Bilbo had curled in on himself now, the laughter escaping from between pressed lips in tiny eeks.

Thorin grinned broadly; pleased that for once, his odd brand of humour seemed to be just what Bilbo needed. He leant in closer to nose at Bilbo's curls and place a kiss to his cheek. "You have my sediments. Dealing with relations like that must be such a pumice-ment."

Victory.

Bilbo finally gave in to his amusement; politely repressed giggles becoming a great bark of laughter, which once released could not be contained. The sound of it was music to Thorin's ears and he laughed along with his husband, the bright peals of Bilbo's joy filling the kitchen and warming Thorin's heart.

The laughter, as such laughter quite often did, carried on for a good while; every time one thought they had their mirth under control, the other would snigger, or chuckle, or hiccough and clap a hand to their mouth only for the laughter to start anew.

Finally, heaving for breath, Bilbo leant back into Thorin's embrace, placing his hands atop the dwarf's in a silent show of gratitude... and Thorin could not resist.

"You know, if you are so sure you owe them nothing, I will be sure to tell them they're talking absolute schis-"

"Don't!" Bilbo barked, half scandalised, half amused. "Do not finish that awful pun, Thorin Baggins."

Thorin chuckled and placed an apologetic kiss to Bilbo's ear, murmuring quietly. "Are you feeling better now, Bilbo, even just a little?"

Bilbo turned in Thorin's arms to face him, pressing a firm, loving kiss to the dwarf's lips. "Yes, very much better, thank you."

"Good, I'm glad." Thorin finally released the hobbit and stepped back, giving him a little space.

Bilbo smiled and began drying the dishes he had needlessly washed as some odd form of stress relief, Thorin putting them away whenever they were handed to him.

It was a little time later whilst the pair were sat together reading in the parlour that Bilbo spoke of the incident again. "Those puns were absolutely awful, you know. Not that I didn't appreciate them... but my goodness Thorin, we really need to teach you some proper jokes."

Thorin paused, set his book aside, a slow sly smile curling his lips, and simply replied. "Truly? I honestly thought they were rather igneous"

A pillow to the face courtesy of Bilbo let the dwarf know precisely what his husband thought of that.

It was a few weeks later when Bilbo went to visit Thorin at his forge and found the dwarf almost growling over an uncooperative sheet of metal that Bilbo managed to exact sweet revenge.

"This blasted thing is nowhere near good enough condition to work with; I swear your folk have never heard of good materials, Bilbo."

Giving a tolerant sigh, Bilbo tugged Thorin a safe distance from the forge fire before pushing himself up onto his toes and saying quite innocently, "Would you like me to leaf you alone to continue your work then, darling? A pause and then a kiss and, "Or maybe thistle make you feel better."

Bilbo could only laugh and squawk in outrage as arms covered in soot and sweat embraced him and his husband muffled joyous laughter in the crook of his neck.