Concerning Dwobbits LordOfTheRazzles

Summary:

September 22 is a day of celebration in Erebor, not only for Bilbo Baggins but for his and Thorin's dwobbit son who sprouted from an all too familiar acorn.

"I'm going to be late!" Bilbo huffed with a bundle of parchment all pressed to his chest as he scampered about the long wide corridors that still got him turned after having five years to memorize them.

"Bilbo, please give yourself a break. You've been running yourself ragged for the past several weeks," Balin chided paternally while trying to keep up with the hobbit's uncharacteristically brisk pace. "If you're worried about missing anything, let me put your worries to rest. The celebration doesn't start until all parties are present that we're honoring."

Bilbo fixed Balin with a look over his shoulder, uncertain if he wanted to be annoyed or amused at the idea that part of today's celebrations was for him, but it was too late to insist otherwise. "Well, it'd be rude for me to make everyone wait now, wouldn't it? Before you lot came around I was always on time for everything, now I'm lucky if I can make it to any meeting without being five minutes late."

"Such is the life for the Consort of Erebor," Balin chuckled as they made it to the celebration hall. Tables were set up, dwarves seated at each one, and even a few characters that lived above ground. "I can take those, go see Thorin," the older dwarf urged with his arms extended for Bilbo's mess of papers, tilting his head towards a collection of their company all gathered around one table with Thorin's back facing them.

"Thank you." And Bilbo was off, rushing once more as he approached, pressing a hand to Thorin's back as a series of cheers erupted around the table at his sudden appearance. "Sorry to keep you all waiting. Working so closely with the Greenskeepers Guild has been...tough." Exhausting was more like it, but Bilbo wasn't going to complain too much. At least not until later when he was in the safety of his husband's arms.

"You needn't apologize, Kurdûn," Thorin cooed, not moving his head any as he felt the circles of comfort being rubbed into his back. Nothing was greater than Bilbo's touch, it always brought a wave of serenity into any situation. "We have been waiting patiently...sort of. Frodo has been very fussy up until a few moments ago. I'd say you missed the worst of it."

Peering around Thorin's shoulder and seeing why the dwarf was so stationary, Bilbo could feel a heartwarming blush bloom across his cheeks and nose. The small source of that fussiness that Thorin had been speaking of was laying across the table in a little basket with one hand firmly gripped onto one of Thorin's hair braids with the bead wedged into his mouth. "He looks quite happy to me."

"Because you're here," Thorin chuckled low, waggling a finger towards the small pebble's chin and cheek to not only get his hair released but to try and spur a small giggle from the blue-eyed menace. "Mizimith," Thorin continued to purr those sweet little words, as Bilbo moved to sit beside him, and finally his efforts at having his hair released bore fruit with a giggle and a yawn from the pebble resting before them.

"It's hard to believe he's a year old," Bilbo sighed, one arm hooking through one of Thorin's, and a hand reaching out to wiggle at one of Frodo's feet, helping to contribute to the reason for the dwobbit's giggles. "It feels like just yesterday that Frodo came into our lives."

And what an adventure that had been.

An adventure that had started with the innocent intention of simply planting that acorn that Bilbo had held onto all this time. Only when the ground was fertile and recovered from the battle a few years prior had he felt that the little seed would thrive. To grow strong into a big protective oak to watch over Erebor, much like the king himself. And after having planted that seed together hand in hand and atop a pile of dirt, Yavanna had been gracious.

The acorn had sprouted, and as months went by, that little sprout was tended to with all the love that a parent might give their child, whether it was Thorin or Bilbo, it never went without proper watering or even just company. And over time, the gift of that acorn was far more than that of a tree beginning to take root - but a blessing that Bilbo didn't think was meant for him or Thorin.

Lost in his thoughts while continuing to stare at Frodo as he kicked and giggled and made swipes for Thorin's braids, the sudden movement from his husband caught Bilbo off guard, practically melting into the touch of soft whiskers and lips pressed to his cheek.

"Nurtu ênâdzu gêdul, Kurdûn," Thorin murmured against Bilbo's warm cheek. "Don't think I had forgotten simply because it is Frodo's birthday too."

"I wish you would have, it's his first after all." Bilbo grumped half-heartedly. "I haven't had much time to worry about my own this year, what with all the meetings and our unexpected bundle of joy." A bundle that Bilbo wouldn't trade for anything. To be blessed with a son at this stage in his life and so far away from home really had been a gift from Yavanna. A gift that sported the same sky blue eyes that Thorin held, and that dark coating of hair that was already quite thick and curly for a dwobbit of his age, but Bilbo blamed that on the dwarf side of him–just as he blamed Frodo's fussy temper on his dwarf side as well.

"It's time for presents!" Bofur cheered loudly before whistling sharply to get attention.

"Presents? I thought we went over this! You dwarves! We hobbits don't receive gifts, and I'm certain that after at least five years of me saying something you all are just choosing to ignore me on the matter," Bilbo huffed as he slumped against Thorin's arm, feeling the rumble of a chuckle practically vibrating through his husband.

"We might ignore you a time or two, Mister Bilbo! But that little guy right there is only half a hobbit, so your hobbit rules don't apply!" Bofur grinned with a twinkle in his eyes. "Besides, we've worked hard on these, you wouldn't deny a pebble like that some spoiling, would you?"

"I suppose not." Not when looking at those big blue eyes. It was just like looking at Thorin–completely irresistible, even when Bilbo was in the worst of moods. "Alright, let's see what you lot have put together!"

Sitting back and continuing to lean on Thorin as Frodo was picked up and passed around (gently) from dwarf to dwarf, it was amazing to see everyone so smitten with him, and not just because he was the son of the King and Consort of Erebor. It made Bilbo feel warm on the inside, just as he was sure it brought Thorin great joy. It was the ribbon on top of a marvelous gift that they had been given, and honestly, presents or not, Bilbo couldn't remember a better birthday than this one–as finding Frodo as a product of their acorn had been more startling and nerve-wracking than anything.

A wooden and metal mobile to hang over a crib from the Urs, a pair of knitted booties from Ori, and a new baby blanket from Dori had been well received, even if Bilbo flinched a little bit at the socks being placed on his son's barely fuzzy feet. Even Tauriel had gifted Frodo with a hand-woven dreamcatcher made from the finest of elven silks, which to Bilbo's surprise had Thorin complimenting her good work!

Not only was it nice to see him accepting her presence, but to be cordial and approve of her engagement to his youngest nephew as well. Many things had changed in this mountain, and Bilbo suspected that was to be the theme of things for years to come.

"I have a gift for young Frodo," Gandalf announced upon his approach, earning several sets of eyes glancing his way while Tauriel continued to bob Frodo around while Fili and Kili were intent on tickling his tummy. "A scarf, to help keep him warm in the coldest of winters." It was grey and had a small shimmer of sparkle to it as he laid it before Bilbo. "Perhaps it can keep him warm on whatever unexpected journey awaits him when he's of age?" A wink was cast in Bilbo's direction, and as the hobbit's ears stood on end at the words, Gandalf merely chuckled as Frodo was now passed along to Dis.

"What did he mean by that?" Bilbo whispered, his eyes watching Gandalf saunter away ready to either disappear like he always did or ready a pipe in the corner.

"Wizards are often cryptic and unclear," Thorin sighed, resting his cheek atop Bilbo's head in a small gesture of comfort. "But in this case, I would say he simply wants Frodo to keep warm. The mountain can get drafty in the harshest of winters, you know."

"Yeah, don't remind me." A small shiver rolled up Bilbo's spine at the memory of his first winter in Erebor. He'd been amazed that he hadn't lost one of his toes it had been so cold! "So we've got more bottles from your nephews, toys, clothes, blankets, and everything in between to keep Frodo happy...I don't think we'll need to worry about his comfort and needs...ever."

"He is loved, that is for certain."

"Just like his parents," Dis chimed happily. "Let's just hope he has Bilbo's sense of direction," she teasingly chided towards the dwobbit in her arms as she bopped the tip of her finger against Frodo's nose before wiggling the ram-shaped stuffy into Frodo's chest and spurring another giggle. "You're so much cuter than Thorin too."

"Thank you, Dis..." Thorin sighed, feeling Bilbo's sympathetic pat against his arm as they remained seated, watching their son with doe-eyes and soft smiles.

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An afternoon of gift giving, pastries, and passing around Frodo to be doted on had worn the young one out. His little eyes were struggling to stay awake as he was cradled in Thorin's arm, a fist full of Thorin's beard clutched into his hand and barely able to conjure enough energy to make a tug.

"He's going to fall asleep fast," Thorin murmured, unbothered by the gentle tugs of Frodo's hand against his longer beard secured into a braid. "Normally when he tugs on me I contemplate shaving the beard short again..." Though to truly be King of the Longbeards, having something worth being proud of from his chin was also quite nice, even if the shorter whiskers had been incredibly convenient.

"I like the beard no matter the length," Bilbo yawned as they entered the royal wing, stepping into their nightly routine of putting Frodo to bed and waiting until he was out cold to leave the side room just next to theirs.

Laying Frodo down gently within the stone crib riddled with blankets and pillows galore, Thorin pulled his hands back so that Bilbo could properly tuck the dwobbit in, pulling a blanket up to Frodo's chin and ensuring it was snug and warm for the cool autumn night ahead.

"Before we retire for the night, I still have my gift to give him," Thorin announced, a small trinket settled within the palm of his hand as he extended his hand not to Frodo, but to Bilbo. "His hair has grown tremendously in the past few months...I think he can wear this now." A bead much smaller than Thorin's own, and one that was similar to the one that Bilbo had to secure the braid framing his face. "Though, perhaps we will wait for the morning to thread it in."

"It's beautiful, Thorin, he really will look more like you at this rate...minus the ears." Bilbo's pointed ears gave a wiggle on demand, earning a chuckle from his husband.

"And the foot fur, don't forget that–"

The teasing came to a halt as a stifled yawn came from the crib, causing both Thorin and Bilbo to zero in on that tiny little creature that produced it. Snug as a bug in a rug, warm and cozy, and now sleeping like a rock.

Bilbo pressed a finger to his lips, as he placed the small bead Thorin had made on the side table before lacing his hand with that of his husband's, leading him out of the room and leaving the door open a crack in case some unfortunate cries sounded off in the middle of the night.

Having returned to their room and changed into their nightwear, Bilbo had grown a tad silent as he sat in bed with the blankets pulled over his knees. Normally on a night like this, he would be gung ho for a good lay with Thorin or perhaps indulge in a good book while Thorin's head rested upon his lap. There was no telling what their cozy and happy lifestyle looked like, and it varied from day to day, but as Bilbo sat there, his eyes were hard-focused on the fire across the room.

"Is something the matter?"

Leave it to Thorin to be far too observant when Bilbo didn't want him to be. Lying wasn't going to get him anywhere, and as enjoyable as the afternoon had been, there was one hobbit tradition that Bilbo had skipped out on this year, and by now it was starting to eat away at him from the inside.

"I didn't get you anything for my birthday..." Bilbo muttered, folding his arms and practically pouting as Thorin slid beneath the covers next to him. "And before you say it, I know I don't have to...not by your traditions, but by mine...I don't know, I feel guilty. Like I've forgotten what's important to me."

"Hm," Thorin hummed in thought as he wrapped one arm around Bilbo's middle, giving a small tug to the hobbit's shirt in a silent request for him to lay down. "I don't think you've ever forgotten what's important to you regardless of the circumstances. Just because you don't present a gift, doesn't mean you're careless." Much to his relief, Bilbo did comply with the tug, snuggling next to Thorin's chest with a pouty look still on his face. "Besides, you've already given me the greatest gift of all."

Bilbo's brows knit together as he stared Thorin in the eyes. What gift was he talking about? There was the embroidered handkerchief...the patchwork robe in various blues and silvers that he'd made too, but apparently, the obviousness of it all was flying over Bilbo's head.

"And what's that?"

"You." Pressing a kiss to Bilbo's forehead and feeling the hobbit's skin burn up from embarrassment in the most delightful of ways, Thorin secured his arm around Bilbo that much tighter. "You are...everything to me. I have everything I could possibly want. You, Frodo, my family..." Thorin murmured, rubbing those same soothing circles against Bilbo's back that he had been given earlier in the day. "I could have not a single coin or mountain to my name, and I'd still feel like the richest of kings...kurdûn..."

"You're a huge sap."

And if Thorin wasn't mistaken, that was emotion in Bilbo's voice!

"Getting to spend the rest of your birthdays with you and Frodo...there is no greater gift–" Silenced from his poetic words with an enthusiastic kiss, Thorin was content to melt into Bilbo's touch, just as the hobbit was content to slot in next to him like a perfectly shaped puzzle piece. "Happy Birthday, love, and here's to many more."

As King and Consort, doting parents, and partners for the rest of their days.