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Chapter Text

+Chapter 1:


Dwalin had liked the hobbit from the very beginning. It was hard not to, beautiful little thing that he was and more importantly he had opened his house to the dwarves and fed them. Such kindness was a rare commodity Dwalin knew from experience. And what food! If Dwalin ever had better he could not remember. It would be worth bringing the hobbit along for his cooking alone. If only Thorin could be convinced of his worth.

So Dwalin took him under his care, staving off the worst of the other dwarves' teasing, giving tips on how to ride a pony, teaching him how to start a fire- any skill he thought might be of use to the hobbit and attainable. Like the rest he didn't have high expectations. The wild was no place for gentle folk after all. But he was surprised again and again by the hobbit's adaptability and mastery of skills. Some of it began to make sense when Bilbo explained a little about the history of his people.

"We used to be nomads you know." He said. "Long before my great great great grandfather's grandfather was born hobbits wondered the lands of the East without a home. It is only in recent history- relatively speaking of course- that we were given the Shire by the king of Arnor and made a place for ourselves."

Dwalin grunts in response and continues to show Bilbo how to search for signs of game. The hobbit's words give him much to think about though. Despite periods of forced exile, Dwalin's race is a stationary one. Dwarves dug deep roots in their mountains and there they stayed forever unless forced otherwise. Despite outward appearances and habits, Dwalin suspects the hobbit might be better suited to life on the road than the rest of them.

This is proven again and again to Dwalin throughout their journey. First there was the trolls. While Dwalin is embarrassed to admit he didn't understand at the time he fully acknowledges that if it weren't for Bilbo, Gandalf's timely rescue would have come too late. Then there was Bilbo's escape from the goblin caves, accomplished without the help of the wizard (which the dwarves had been dependent on). The greatest example, though, was what came after that.

Standing between Thorin and death, face awash with fear and determination; Bilbo had never looked more beautiful to Dwalin. That was saying something too as he found Bilbo quite beautiful all the time. On that cliff though, facing down the pale orc, the hobbit had become bravery come to life and Dwalin knew that if they survived this he would do everything in his power to woo Bilbo. Luckily for him they did survive and he did not have to wait long to have his chance.

He started small: helping Bilbo down the Carrack, asking after his well being, working to make him smile as they limped along, and when they settled down to rest for the day helping him dress his wounds. Bilbo seemed perhaps a bit wary but pleased with the attention. Dwalin took it as a good sign and went to sleep planning his strategy to court Bilbo.

Those plans were quickly altered the next day when Dwalin met their host, Beorn. In addition to having a strong dislike for dwarves he had taken an immediate shine to Bilbo and he had a large house with a beautiful garden that Bilbo adores and delicious food, which is loved even more. Dwalin doesn't doubt Bilbo but that is an awful lot of temptation to resist with little incentive not to accept. True, Thorin had become less hostile but that was only a recent change.

Dwalin had originally planned a slow and steady attack, weakening Bilbo's defenses with charm and kindness. He would prove to Bilbo that he was an ideal partner for the hobbit. But when he overheard Beorn invite Bilbo to stay with him when the dwarves left Dwalin knew he'd have to change his strategy. This would require a bold, strong attack to guarantee Bilbo stayed by his side always. He made his move after dinner.

Bilbo was the only one left at the table. Even Beorn had finished eating and wondered off to do whatever it was skin-changers did at night. The rest of the dwarves had gathered around the hearth for some songs or stories. This meant that while not quite secluded, Dwalin and Bilbo were far enough from the rest not to get overheard or even raise any notice. In fact the only one who seemed to be aware of their separation from the group was his brother who had disturbingly enough winked at Dwalin before returning to his conversation with Thorin.

Dwalin took the seat right next to Bilbo, trying to decide what to say. Balin had always been better in that regard while Dwalin had always been a dwarf of action. There were the traditional words of course but he didn't think they'd translate well into Common and he wasn't sure he could remember them all anyway. He had never thought he'd need them. Dwalin looked at Bilbo beside him and was surprised to see stormy blue eyes looking back.

"Did you need something?" Bilbo asked. He looked so sincere and Dwalin felt his heart clench.

"You." He found himself speaking without thought and being a dwarf of action decided to just go with it. "Just you." Then, before Bilbo could respond, Dwalin leaned over and kissed him.

The hobbit's lips were soft beneath his, warm and perfect and had Dwalin been a lesser dwarf he would have pushed his suit. Instead, with great will power, he pulled back and waited for Bilbo's response. It was one of the hardest things he'd done, not ravishing Bilbo. It was made all the harder by the blush across plump cheeks and the glazed look in his eyes.
Bilbo blinked several times before pulling himself together and focusing on Dwalin. He felt a moment of fear before a shy smile spread over Bilbo's face. "Just me, huh?"

Dwalin felt a matching smile tug at his own mouth. "Aye, just you." This time when he leant down for a kiss Bilbo met him halfway. He tasted like honey and salt and Dwalin couldn't get enough as he licked into Bilbo's mouth. Bilbo gave as good as he got and Dwalin let out a loud, pleased sound when the hobbit bit at his lower lip. The noise seemed to startle Bilbo and he pulled back with eyes wide. Both of them were panting and Dwalin was surprised to find that Bilbo had all but climbed into his lap.

Bilbo gave a quick look around before turning back to Dwalin with an expression that was equal parts sultry and shy. "I don't suppose you have a place in mind where you'd like to... ah...have me?"

Dwalin groaned as all blood headed south. "Loft." He squeaked though he'd deny it to his dying day. Clearing his throat he tried again. "There's a loft." Grabbing Bilbo's hand Dwalin ignored the rest of the Company who were in turn trying very hard not to look like they were watching and led Bilbo to the back of the room where the ladder was. Up in the loft Dwalin had created a nest of sorts with hay and several blankets. The lads could share and Balin didn't really use his anyways as he got hot while sleeping. He had also brought up both his and Bilbo's packs and a few other items he understood to be necessary for marriage.

Bilbo just stared at the pile of blankets and Dwalin began to get nervous. "Feeling rather confident weren't you?" He grinned up at the dwarf.

"You're here aren't ya?" Dwalin huffed, refusing to admit he'd been anything but.

"So I am." Bilbo smiled.

Dwalin shuffled, not quite sure what to do now that he had Bilbo here. Sweet, Mahal! He had Bilbo! Overcome with joy Dwalin grinned like a dwarfling and pulled Bilbo close. The hobbit came readily and all but melted into this kiss. It was playful with laughter (though he wasn't sure what they were laughing at) and small nips at each other's mouths. Dwalin hadn't known, had no idea that it could be like this.

"I should have pursued you back in the Shire." Dwalin moaned, reaching down to palm that delectable arse. "Looked beautiful answering the door. As soon as I took a bite of that fish I should have pushed you down on the table and-"
Bilbo's laughter cut him off which was probably for the best Dwalin reflected idly as he did his best to meld Bilbo against him. "You ridiculous dwarf. I have a perfectly good bed. Better than good, even."

"Mmm." Dwalin hummed, moving to explore an exotic ear. The resulting moan sent fissures of pleasure down Dwalin's spine and before he knew it he was pushing Bilbo down onto the blankets and covering him with his own body. He nipped, sucked, and licked at that ear, not able to get enough of the noises and breathy sighs Bilbo was making.

He may have been a bit too enthusiastic as Bilbo began to tug on his beard. "If... huff... if you continue I-ah! Stop that! I won't... oh... won't have an ear left."

"Sorry." He muttered but before he had a chance to feel too embarrassed Bilbo was kissing him again, hard and dirty, sucking on Dwalin's tongue in a way that made his hips stutter.

Dwalin was settling into the kiss, becoming familiar with the push and pull when Bilbo surprised him. He did something with his leg and arched his back and not quite knowing how Dwalin found himself on his back. Having Bilbo straddling his lap, smirking down at him was hardly something to complain about though. Especially when he scooted back a bit and pressed his groin to Dwalin's. The warrior let out a growl and his hands grasped at Bilbo's hips holding him in place. His smug look melted into a whine when Dwalin thrust up against him.

For a long while they stayed that way arching and pressing against each other, hands holding tight and mouths devouring each other. Dwalin's hips had taken on a desperate pace and he was panting harder than when they'd escaped the goblin tunnels. All he could think of was 'more' and 'so close' when Bilbo pulled away. "Wha?" He groaned, reaching out to pull him back.

"Clothes." Bilbo replied. "Too many clothes." He followed these words by pulling off his vest and working on the buttons of his shirt. This seemed like a brilliant idea to Dwalin who immediately began to help. Or he tried to but Bilbo slapped his hands away. "No, no, your own clothes. I'll never get all those buckles of yours figured out."

"I'll teach you." Dwalin muttered as he went to work. Bilbo paused for a moment in his task, just staring before grinning and making quick work of the rest of his clothes. Dwalin wasn't sure what that was about but he was too busy admiring all that soft, creamy skin to worry about it. When Bilbo started to stoke himself it almost became too much.

"Unless you dwarves have some magic the rest of us don't know about, those clothes aren't going to take themselves off." Bilbo's voice distracted Dwalin from his staring. He quickly removed the rest of his clothes and stood before Bilbo completely bare. He knew, by dwarven standards he was considered good looking. No Bombur to be sure but broad and muscled with lots of hair and scars that spoke of his battle prowess. How that translated to hobbit beauty standards he didn't know. Bilbo was soft, even after months in the wild and relatively hairless with only a small patch on his chest and an intriguing trail from navel to groin. Definitely strange to the dwarf but wholly beautiful and enticing. Especially with his lovely flush, that Dwalin could now see went down his chest, and his cock in hand.

"Come here, you." Bilbo said, voice hoarse with desire and gestured with his free hand. Dwalin was quick to comply.
The first touch of naked skin to naked skin was overwhelming. He wasn't sure what sound it was he made but it had Bilbo running his hands along his spine and making soothing noises. Kisses were planted along his shoulders, neck, scalp, anywhere Bilbo would reach. As Dwalin regained some of his senses he began to return the kisses, sometimes meeting Bilbo's mouth, sometimes not. Dwalin's hips begin to move again, low groans spilling out of his mouth at the feeling of his hardness against Bilbo's. The heat and pleasure was building up again. He didn't even try to hold back, too lost in the sensations and when his peak came he did nothing to hold back. Dwalin had never felt anything like, never experience such pleasure. When he came back into his body he was surprised to realize he was shaking and panting, little shocks still zipping along his nerves.

"Did... did you just..." Bilbo's voice cut through Dwalin's haze. He looked up at Bilbo and could see the tension in his body, could feel the hardness still pressed against him. Embarrassed heat rushed through Dwalin. He didn't know much about the marriage bed but he did know it was bad form to leave his spouse unsatisfied.

"I'm sorry." Dwalin began to pull away.

"No, no. Don't apologize. It's no bother. I'd just thought... I'd hoped..."

"What do you want?" Dwalin asked, determined to make up for his selfishness. He pulled back far enough to wrap a hand around Bilbo's cock. It was wet with Dwalin's release but as that seemed to smooth the way he decided he didn't mind.
"Ooh." Bilbo moaned, rolling his hips into Dwalin's strokes. "That is a good start."

Dwalin grinned, pleased with himself. Now that the edge had been taken off his own arousal he could put all his focus on Bilbo. Stroking with one hand he let the other explore, visually drinking in every response. It was a surprise to find that while soft and creamy as he'd originally observed, Bilbo's skin was not unblemished. There were freckles along his shoulders and marks obviously from their journey- calluses on his hands, small cuts on his legs, and ugly bruises from his fall in the goblin caves. That wasn't all though, older wounds long healed; a burn on one arm, a large scar across a collarbone. Dwalin was fascinated by each mark and blemish he found. Each place the world had left evidence of a life lived. A life before Dwalin knew him. It was while he mouthed along that large scar on the collarbone that Dwalin realized he was hard again. He did not slow in his strokes as he pressed his renewed erection into the soft flesh of Bilbo's thigh.

"Really?" Bilbo asked breathlessly. He pushed Dwalin away and stared at the dwarf in surprise. That surprise quickly turned into a grin. "Oh you amazing dwarf."

Dwalin didn't have long to preen before Bilbo was diving for his groin. He made a high needy sound that would have embarrassed him if it weren't for Bilbo's mouth. Dwalin hadn't even know you could do that with a mouth, that people put it there for pleasure. And what pleasure! He nearly sobbed when Bilbo pulled away.

"What a lovely cock you have." Bilbo said giving it a last kiss before looking up at Dwalin. "Do you have any slick?"
Dwalin blinked, trying to get the words to make sense. "Wha?"

"Do you have any slick? For... you know...?" Bilbo gestured towards his arse. Dwalin could help but reach out and stroke the beautiful flesh. It wasn't until Bilbo pushed back into his touch that it clicked.

"Oh. Aye. I do." He said, giving one last rub before reaching for his pack and taking out the small vial. "Healing salve, for scrapes and such. Should work just as good for this."

Bilbo took the vial from his hand and sniffed at it before pouring a little bit on his hand. "If we were at home I'd have some nice oils, smell lovely too. This'll do though."

Dwalin watched in fascination as Bilbo took his now slick fingers and rubbed them against his hole. "D-do you need any help?" He asked, voice hoarse.

"Maybe next time." Bilbo panted. "Too close. Want to last long enough to get you in me."

"Bilbo." Dwalin groaned. It was a sweet torture watching Bilbo prepare himself. His skin was flushed, eyes glazed with pleasure, and he was making the most delicious little breathy noises. It was by far the most erotic thing Dwalin had ever seen. It took all of his willpower not to touch Bilbo or touch himself.

"Alright. Okay. I think I'm ready." Bilbo barely had the words out before Dwalin was tackling him into the blankets and sealing their mouths together. He kissed the hobbit long and hard until he was tugged away by his hair. "In me. I want you in me."

"Yes." Dwalin hissed and pulled back so he could see what he was doing. He lined up with Bilbo's hole and then paused. "I don't think it'll fit." He worried.

Bilbo chuckled. "You're big, love but you're not that big."

Dwalin wasn't sure. He can't see how it'll possibly work but Bilbo is pushing back against him, begging him to 'get on with it'. Dwalin wants it too, so badly, so he pushes forward and at first he thinks he's right until something gives and he's sliding in.

"Oh sweet Yavanna." Bilbo whimpers and Dwalin freezes even though it physically pains him. All he wants is to thrust into that tight heat. "No don't stop! Move, please!" Bilbo begs and Dwalin happily obeys.

He struggles to find a rhythm but eventually, following Bilbo's directions of 'More!', 'Harder!', and 'There! Right there!', he has them both chasing oblivion. Dwalin can barely think past the pleasure but he knows he's close and there's no way he's going to find his peak twice before Bilbo is satisfied. It only takes a few strokes before Bilbo reaches completion. He is radiant in his pleasure and Dwalin has all of a second to feel smug before he's succumbing to the clenching muscles and coming as well.

Somehow this peak was even more intense than the last and he blacked out for a moment. When he came to he was still lying on Bilbo who was looking about as blessed as Dwalin felt. Dwalin smiled and hummed happily, unsure how to handle so much joy running through his being. With a gentle touch he traced one finger along Bilbo's cheek.

"Hello." Bilbo said quietly. "Someone's looking rather smug."

"I think I've got cause to be, yeah?"

Bilbo wiggled a little under him before smiling. "Yeah, I suppose you do."

They lay there and smiled a bit at each other. Just basking in the afterglow. Far too soon for Dwalin's taste though Bilbo began to wiggle again.

"Think you can get up? You're rather heavy."

"No." Dwalin said, wrapping his arms around Bilbo.

"No?"

"No. You're the most comfortable thing I've laid on since your house. Maybe even longer."

Bilbo huffed. "I'm flattered. Really. But you're squashing me and we're going to get stuck soon which I'd really rather avoid."

Dwalin grumbled but complied, making a face as they pulled apart. He found his water skin and discarded shirt and cleaned them both up. Once finished he pulled Bilbo down into his arms and wrapped them in a clean blanket. Bilbo started to say something but it was late and Dwalin was tired.

"Shhh, sleep."

"But-"

"Sleep. It'll last 'till morning."

Bilbo made a few grumbly noises but settled into Dwalin's arms as though he was made for them and soon was fast asleep. Dwalin took a moment to thank Mahal for his new husband and then followed him into slumber.

Chapter Text

Sometime during the night Dwalin had turned over onto his side while Bilbo had cuddled up to his back, one arm thrown over Dwalin's waist and large feet pressed against his calves. It was a novel experience, having someone pressed up behind him like that and after a moment's consideration Dwalin decided that he liked it. The only downside was that he couldn't look at Bilbo from that position. He warred with himself for a moment, his comfort in his current position versus his desire to gaze at his husband. In the end though, it was his pressing need to make water that won. Bilbo whined as he pulled away but Dwalin was able to soothe him with a soft sound and a few gentle touches. He took a minute to admire Bilbo's beauty in the early morning light. All golden curls and creamy skin with a few new marks of Dwalin's making. He was especially proud of the one on the hobbit's collarbone, right over the old scar. As he pulled on his trousers he idly wondered if he bore any of Bilbo's marks. He hoped so though dwarven skin was notoriously tough. However Bilbo did have a surprisingly strong grip for such a small thing. Shrugging off the thought for now Dwalin grabbed the rest of his clothes and headed downstairs.

It was early yet and only a few of the other dwarves were up despite the table filled with breakfast foods. Oin was at the table eating while Dwalin's brother and Thorin seemed to once again be discussing the map. Dwalin nodded in greeting as he made his way outside. It was a beautiful morning and for a moment Dwalin mourned Bilbo still sleeping. Surely the hobbit would love the earthy beauty of Beorn's garden right now. Perhaps they could come out later to smoke their pipes or simply lounge in the grass. Dwalin observed the large flowers, idly wondering if they were tall enough to conceal what Dwalin really wanted to do in the open air. As a dwarf Dwalin didn't have much use for modesty but he knew his hobbit husband was more reserved. Dwalin recalled bathing in a river early on in their journey. Bilbo had kept his shirt and underpants on not realizing the wet material showed more than it hid. Feeling himself stir just at the memory he quickly put it aside and hurried through his absolutions. The cold well water did much to bring his body back under control. Back inside he walked to the others at the table and piled a plate high with food. He was ravenous and he was sure Bilbo would be too as soon as he woke up.

"May I be the first to offer you congratulations on your marriage, brother?" Balin offered. The smile he gave was large and warm, almost proud.

Dwalin grinned back widely. "Thank'ye." He said around the muffin he'd just stuffed into his mouth.

"Where is your little husband?" Thorin asked with a smirk. "You didn't break him already?"

"Tch, I left him sleeping still."

"Wore him out then. Can't say I'm surprised considering the noises coming from the loft last night." Dwalin grumbled back but he couldn't keep the pleased smile off his face. Thorin leaned forward with a curious look. "Was it really that good? As good as they say?"

"Thorin!" Balin sounded positively scandalized but they both ignored him.

"Better." Dwalin's grin felt so big he wasn't sure how it fit on his face.

Thorin sat back, looking slightly awed. "What are you doing down here? Get back to your husband."

"Aye, I'll be doing that. Wouldn't want him to wake up alone." And he really wouldn't. Not just for a repeat of last night’s activities, it would be seen as immensely disrespectful to his new spouse. He finished loading the plate with everything in reach and turned to go. He'd only made it a few steps before he turned back. "Hobbits, you know, they're private folk." Dwalin trailed off, not sure how he wanted to word his request.

"We'll see to it that teasing is kept to a minimum." Balin reassured. "Now go to your husband."

"Aye, thanks." With that Dwalin hurried back up the loft.

Bilbo had not woken in the time Dwalin had been away but he had managed to curl himself further into the blankets until all that remained visible were the golden curls atop his head and one foot poking out. It was an endearing sight and Dwalin settled down to enjoy it along with his food.

When Bilbo woke several hours later he seemed surprised to find Dwalin there. Dwalin tried not to take it personally and instead took pleasure at seeing Bilbo's eyes light up at the offered food. He also quite enjoyed the quick tumble that came after. He still found the thought of putting his mouth on a cock odd and the taste had been bitter but seeing Bilbo's pleasure had more than made up for any unpleasantness. Also, it felt bloody amazing when Bilbo did it to him.

Balin and Thorin kept their word and there was hardly any teasing when they finally left the loft. Instead, over the next few days there were many hearty back slaps and warm congratulations. Dwalin grinned but Bilbo took it all with a look of bemusement. It worried Dwalin that his husband didn't seem as pleased. Did hobbits not congratulate newlyweds? Perhaps their traditions were different? Dwalin tried to remember everything Bilbo had said about his people. Hadn't there been something about a tree?

Every night though Bilbo followed Dwalin to the loft and he seemed to get as much joy exploring each other’s bodies as Dwalin did so he couldn't be too upset. They even tumbled outdoors a time or two just as Dwalin had hoped. Bilbo did work to muffle his sounds after a flippant comment from Nori, which Dwalin was none too pleased about.

Unfortunately it couldn't last forever. Their time at Beorn's had been like stepping into another world where such concerns as orcs or lost homelands didn't exist. Thorin gave them as much time as he could spare but their quest was of a time sensitive nature so a proper ugzayu naimrili could not happen. As they packed their things and made their way to Mirkwood, Dwalin promised himself that when all this was over he would give Bilbo the proper week of isolation with the traditional feast at the end for all their friends and family.

Mirkwood proved to be just as terrible as Dwalin had thought it would be. Not least because of the lack of privacy. Tension was already high amongst the dwarves and Bilbo's reluctance to take a tumble with him had Dwalin feeling on edge. The best he could hope for was some kissing and groping in the dark when they had watch together. It was maddening to Dwalin and he found himself cursing the forest several times a day.

Of course from there things only got worse. Their food supplies were rapidly dwindling, even with rationing. Dwalin watched with a worried eye as Bilbo began to look wane and sickly. He found himself missing the plumpness of the hobbit's form, the way sunlight turned his hair gold and gave his skin a rosy glow, and the easy smiles he had once been blessed with. It was like the cursed forest was eating Bilbo from the inside out and that in turn was eating away at Dwalin.

Dwalin knew the warnings Beorn and Gandalf had given but by the time they spotted the elf fires he hardly cared. When they were captured by the elves it was almost a relief. That is until he realized Bilbo was missing. Surely after saving them from the spiders Bilbo had not succumbed himself! Dwalin looked around frantically for his small husband and nearly got himself skewered on an elvish blade for his trouble before he felt a small, familiar hand on his arm.

"Settle down you lump. I’m here." Bilbo's voice whispered in his ear. Dwalin immediately calmed. The ring. What a clever hobbit his husband was, Dwalin thought with pride. Clever and brave.

The Wood-Elves' dungeon was a new kind of torture. All the dwarves were separated so they could not see or talk. He had no idea if Thorin lived, and though Bilbo visited every day he could not touch him. Dwalin thought he'd go mad. Perhaps he did because when Bilbo told them his plan, Dwalin accepted it without question. Anything to leave this Mahal cursed prison. He found himself questioning that decision when he was crammed into a barrel and knocked about for far longer than he wished to know. Several times as he was banged against rocks and water found its way in he prayed for death to come. When Bilbo finally released him Dwalin crawled out and did his best to die where he lay.

"Are you alright?" The hobbit asked. He huffed when Dwalin just groaned in response. "There are still several barrels. Aren't you going to help?"

Dwalin loved Bilbo. He truly did. It was just going to take him a moment to remember that fact. "No." He growled.

"Well then." Bilbo muttered angrily. "Well." And he stomped off.

Dwalin knew he was going to pay for that later but at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care. A few moments later Balin crawled up to collapse by him. Dwalin let out a grunt in greeting, not even bothering to lift his head.

"Kill me." Balin replied with a pathetic moan. Dwalin just snorted.

It wasn't until much later when the men of Lake-Town summoned them to join Bilbo, Thorin, Fili, and Kili- who had scouted ahead- that Dwalin finally forced himself to move. He was pleased he did when they found a feast waiting for them. He was less pleased to find his husband seated firmly between the two princes but perhaps not surprised. He found his own seat between Balin and Gloin with minimal fuss and contented himself to look down the table often. Now that he had a chance to really look and adequate light to see by Dwalin was disturbed to see how poorly Bilbo looked. While certainly ragged and waterlogged from their ride in the barrels, the rest of the company had been able to regain some weight and color while held prisoner. Dwalin had thought Bilbo the lucky one being outside the bars but now he wondered at the value of regular (if bland) meals versus having to steal to eat. It was obvious now that Bilbo had been the one worse off and he worried for his husband.

Once the feast was over and the company shown to where they'd be staying Dwalin sent Oin after wherever Bilbo disappeared to and then sought out Thorin. "We need to stay and rest here." He said without preamble.

"The mountain-" Thorin tried to protest.

"Can wait a few more days. We need rest. Bilbo needs rest. Did ya see him at dinner?"

Thorin scoffed. "He held up better than you after the barrels. He even went with us to scout ahead."

"Aye, he's a strong one. Perhaps the strongest one of us but he's sick. I don't think he ate well in Mirkwood."

"None of us ate well in that cursed place."

"But we at least were fed. I'm not sure he's had a meal since we left the skin-changers. He's not healthy and I'll not let him move on until he is."

"Dwalin." Thorin growled.

"No. He's my husband, Thorin and I've already made a right mess of caring for him. Would you have me ignore my duty?" The two stared each other down for several moments before Thorin relented with a sigh.

"Very well but I can't promise more than a week."

"Thank you." He tapped his head to Thorin's, bidding his cousin goodnight before going in search of his husband.

He found Bilbo in the second bedroom, already in bed and bundled under a pile of blankets. He glared up at Dwalin from his nest with all the ferocity of a kitten. "Whab do joo wan?" He asked through a stuffed nose. Dwalin fought to hide his smile. "If joo dink I'll imvibe joo do my bed, joo are misbakon."

It took Dwalin a moment to figure out what Bilbo way saying. "I wanted to see how you were. Oin saw to you, yes?"

"Yeb. Ib jusb a cold." Bilbo said with a dismissive wave and Dwalin felt himself relax.

He stood there for a moment, silent as he debated if he should push his luck. "I would share your bed if you'd allow it. Just to sleep." He was quick to add when it looked like Bilbo was about to argue. "I want to be nearby case you need something."

Bilbo gave him a suspicious look. "Jusb do sleep?"

"Aye, just sleep."

"Joo'll cabch my cold."

Dwalin shook his head. "Dwarves are stone. We rarely get sick 'cept for babes or the old."

"Okay."

Dwalin grinned brightly as he quickly shucked his clothes and climbed into the bed. He gathered his husband to him and settled him comfortably on his chest. "So warm." Bilbo murmured, nuzzling into him and then he was asleep. Dwalin stoked his back and his damp curls and took comfort in the heartbeat next to his.

Chapter Text

Dwalin woke to Bilbo coughing which was an unpleasant way to wake up, especially considering the fluids the hobbit was leaking. He just made a face though and helped Bilbo sit up to get the phlegm out. Afterwards he found some water and a cloth to clean up with and wiped down Bilbo who had started sweating sometime in the night. Bilbo mumbled and gave halfhearted protest but he didn’t seem to have the energy for more. Later, when Dwalin offered to grab breakfast, the hobbit seemed uninterested which worried Dwalin the most. He went downstairs anyways and came back with food and Oin in tow.

The healer tutted and muttered and did a lot of things Dwalin didn’t understand. Dwalin could feel himself becoming tense and anxious but in the end Oin just declared, "fever. He just needs to sweat it out. Should be fine in a few days."

"What can I do?"

"Keep him warm. Keep him hydrated. I'll make him some salve to help with breathing."

"Aye." Dwalin agreed, accepting Oin's advice like orders from a general. He would do all within his power to care for his husband.

The next several days were a mess of teas and salves and phlegm and whiney, fussy hobbit. Dwalin at times would climb into the bed with Bilbo and physically hold him down just to force him to rest as Oin prescribed or to keep him from throwing off the blankets.

Finally though, after 4 days of battle, Dwalin woke up to a softly snoring Bilbo who's breathing was clear and even and his fever broken. He smiled and quickly turned around to see his husband in the early morning light. It was a sight he hadn't been able to enjoy while Bilbo was sick, hadn't enjoyed since Beorn's, and he was eager to see it again. Bilbo groaned as Dwalin pulled away to turn around and quickly pressed himself close as the dwarf settled back down. Dwalin's smile became a large grin as Bilbo threw a proprietary arm and leg over him. He happily settled down to gaze at the golden creature beside him. Bilbo's hair was dirty and matted but still a dark gold in the sunlight. He was still too pale from their time in Mirkwood and too thin but he had regained his rosy glow. Dwalin ran his hands down Bilbo's body and immediately resolved to get as many good meals into him as possible before they headed out again. The hobbit was too thin by half and Dwalin found himself longing for the luscious curves he remembered from the beginning of their journey.

Bilbo let out a little moan and pushed back into the hands that had become less exploring and more groping. Dwalin felt a familiar hardness he had sorely missed these last weeks. With a moan of his own Dwalin pressed back and nuzzled into the dirty curls, dropping kisses onto the skin he could reach

"Mmmm...? Dwalin?"

"Good morning." Dwalin rasped between kisses. "How are you feeling?"

"B-bet-ter-oh!" Bilbo stuttered as Dwalin rolled his hips.

"Good." He growled and began to pull at the hobbit's clothes.

"W-wait, Dwalin! What are you... Oof... What are you doing?"

"Trying to get you naked. What does it look like."

"But I'm filthy!" Bilbo cried as Dwalin finally removed his nightshirt.

"So?"

"So," he growled, pushing away Dwalin's hands from his smalls. "I need a bath."

"Bilbo." Dwalin looked down at his husband with a serious expression. "It's been weeks. We have since fought hunger and spiders and been trapped in the Wood-Elves' dungeon and now that we're all finally safe you've been sick. Please let me touch you." He added a smile to his words. "Besides, if ya took a bath now, you'd just have to take another one after."

Bilbo hemmed and hawed but he didn't try to push Dwalin's hands away again. The dwarf spent many minutes simply looking and lightly skimming his hands over his husband. He found and catalogued all the changes since he had last laid with Bilbo. Then he went back and kissed every change he found, every new line where there had been a curve, every newly visible bone or defined muscle. Every new bruise, scrape, and scar. With each kiss he made a silent promise to himself and to Bilbo- to care for him and love him and see to his needs and happiness until Dwalin returned to the halls of his ancestors.

Dwalin was so intent on mapping Bilbo's body he was caught completely by surprised when the hobbit flipped him onto his back. "I want to touch you too." The hobbit rasped. Dwalin was all for that idea and it was but a moment to rid him of his clothes. Bilbo's clever hands made quick work of reducing Dwalin to an incoherent mess and when one traveled down and back to tease at his arse he eagerly pushed into the touch. Bilbo had yet to ever touch him there but Dwalin had watched Bilbo's pleasure and was eager for a turn of his own.

"Yes." He hissed though if it was in Westron or Khuzdul he couldn't say. Bilbo paused before moaning and scrambling for the edge of the bed. "Wha?" Dwalin raised his head, confused why his husband was leaving.

"Slick." Bilbo mumbled, fumbling at the bedside table and finding nothing. "We need slick."

"Mahal." Dwalin cursed and began searching through his things. Everything he owned was gifted or bought from Lake-Town, his own things spread across Middle Earth from the Misty Mountains to the Mirkwood prison. Unfortunately that included any oil or slick he might have had. "Oin. Oin'll have something." Without a second thought he went in search of the healer.

"Dwalin? Dwalin what are you-eek!" Bilbo dove back into the bed as Dwalin marched out of the room and right into Thorin.

"What in Mahal's name are you doing?" Thorin asked once they had untangled themselves.

"Looking for slick."

Thorin seemed to suddenly realize Dwalin's state of undress. He leaned over and looked into the room behind Dwalin. Bilbo squeaked when those blue eyes landed on him and burrowed further under the blankets. "Bilbo's doing better then."

"Aye." Dwalin agreed. The two dwarves stated at each other for several moments before Thorin huffed out a laugh and dug into his pocket.

"Here." He offered up a small bottle.

"Sword oil?"

"If it's good enough for my blade it'll be good enough for whatever use you have in mind." Dwalin nodded and took the oil. With one last smile Thorin turned to continue down the hall. "I expect to see you two this afternoon. Now that your hobbit is better we must plan our departure."

Dwalin just grunted, already shutting the door behind him. "I got slick." He offered up to a glaring Bilbo.

"Yes, I noticed. Is it really safe to use?"

Dwalin pulled off the cap and sniffed. "Aye, it's just mineral oil. We use it on dry skin sometimes."

"Very well then, get on the bed and lay on your belly." Bilbo ordered. "I plan to enjoy you before there are anymore interruptions."

Dwalin laughed but was quick to comply. "No worries there. Thorin will make sure the rest stay away."

"Well then. That's... that's good." Dwalin was about to respond when Bilbo's fingers, warm and slippery began to explore.

All thought of Thorin or anything that wasn't Bilbo quickly fled. The first finger felt strange and the second made him grunt. The massaging motions felt good if unusual but he didn't understand the pleasure Bilbo always seemed to get from the act. Then those clever fingers twisted. Pleasure jolted through Dwalin's body and he let out a surprised shout. Things went much quicker from there, each stroke of Bilbo's fingers sending sharps zaps of pleasure like lightning down his spine. Vaguely Dwalin realized Bilbo must have found that same small bump that he used to send the hobbit crazy.

When the fingers disappeared, Dwalin let out a cry of distress. "Shhh." Bilbo ran a soothing hand along his flank but it wasn't the touch he wanted.

"Please." He begged, not at all ashamed of his desire. Behind him Bilbo moaned and Dwalin felt him press against his entrance.

Bilbo's prick had never seemed especially big to Dwalin. It was smaller than his own, proportionate to Bilbo, and he had loved it because it was Bilbo's. Now it felt huge and Dwalin felt filled in the best way possible. "Sweet Mahal." He groaned as Bilbo bottomed out. His husband paused for a moment to give him time to adjust but Dwalin wanted none of that. He pushed back and clenched his muscles, knowing how good it felt from the times Bilbo did it. As hoped, his husband instinctively thrust back.

"Fuck." Bilbo moaned and Dwalin had little time to wonder when Bilbo had started cursing as he began a harsh pace. Dwalin did not last long. Bilbo only got a handful of thrust in before Dwalin was shouting and coming across the sheets.

Bilbo's hips faltered and he stopped. "R-really?"

"Don't stop!" Dwalin moaned, wiggling his hips to encourage Bilbo to move. His husband made a confused noise but did as bid, pulling out and pushing back in slowly. "Harder." He rasped.

Now that the edge had been taken off his arousal, Dwalin was able to appreciate the push/pull of Bilbo's movements; the slide of his cock, the slap of his bollocks, the sharp feel on his fingers on his flank, and the wonderful, husky noises Bilbo made. Dwalin could feel the pleasure beginning to build again and his cock rise. He met each of his husband's thrust, wordlessly begging for more. And Bilbo complied, putting more power into his movements and twisting his hips in a way that had Dwalin seeing fireworks. His second peak was coming on quick and he writhed beneath Bilbo.

"Yes. Yes. Dwa-Dwalin. Yes!" Bilbo chanted behind him. His hips stuttered and then the hobbit was coming. Dwalin grabbed his cock and with only a few strokes he followed.

Later they lay in a sweaty pile of contentment. Bilbo was sprawled across Dwalin's chest, fingers lightly stoking the dwarf's flank. When Dwalin looked down he saw a row of small bruises, perfectly matching a hobbit's fingers. Warmth suffused him at the sight and he let out a pleased rumble.

"What?" Bilbo's head popped up, his curls plastered where his head had been resting, the other side sticking straight up. He look to Dwalin a bit like a dog with one ear cocked. "That's a new noise."

"Ye marked me."

Bilbo looked down at the bruises and let out a small, amused huff. "Sappy dwarf." The smile was quickly replaced with a scrunched nose and frown. "I'm disgusting. I think it's time for that bath."

"No." Dwalin protested, pulling Bilbo tight against his chest. "Not yet."

"Yes yet. I'm filthy and you aren't much better." With surprising strength for one so little, Bilbo pulled himself free. "Now, I'm assuming the tub is man sized. You may join me if you like or wallow here but I am getting clean."

Dwalin didn't need to be asked twice. Though he thought it strange Bilbo insisted they redress before making their way to the bath, he happily followed his husband. There would be few enough opportunities for such luxury after they left Lake-Town.

Chapter Text

The mountain wasn't very hospitable once one got past the sheer amount of gold, even with the dragon gone. Without Bilbo everything seemed to take on an added hostile air. Dwalin had always been a dwarf of fast decisions and quick action. You had to be when you devoted your life to fighting and battle. For the first time in Dwalin's memory, however, he had no idea what to do. His husband was banished and encamped with the enemy, his king was gold mad and unrecognizable as kin, and Dwalin was stuck in the middle, not knowing how to help or even who his loyalties belonged to. He cursed Thorin and Bilbo for putting him in this position and Gandalf for talking them into this quest but mostly he cursed himself for his stupidity and inaction.

When the orcs came it was almost a blessing. He could not solve his problems but at least he could fight. It was a fierce battle and even with the armies of dwarves, men, and elves combined they were quickly overrun by the enemy. It called back memories of Azanulbizar and just like then Dwalin found himself separated from those he'd promised to protect. Just like then Dwalin failed in his duty.

He would never be able to say what was worse: the quick, brutal deaths of Fili and Kili which were over before anyone knew what was happening or Thorin's more lingering demise full of pain and painful words of remorse. Dwalin's only comfort was that his husband still lived though he'd not seen him since Bilbo's banishment. There had been rumors of Bilbo being on the battlefield that he fervently hoped weren't true. There was nothing good about battle, despite what the old songs said, even battle for the right reasons and he didn't want his gentle hobbit anywhere near it.

In the chaos after the battle, the memorials and rebuilding to organize, Dwalin only saw Bilbo from a distance. Even once the elves left and the dwarves began to settle in the close quarters of the mountain he only ever saw him from across the room or down a hall. The hobbit looked worn and sad. It was a familiar, broken look Dwalin had seen on countless faces during their years of exile, especially after Azanulbizar. It was all things wrong to see such a look on Bilbo. Precious Bilbo who glowed gold in the sun and whose smile was more precious than diamonds.

Dwalin wanted nothing more than to scoop the hobbit into his arms. He wanted to hold Bilbo close, soothe his pains and spend the rest of his life making him smile and protecting him from all the evils of the world. He couldn't though. Dwalin had lost any right to call Bilbo his after the incident on the wall. The one time he had gotten close to Bilbo, stumbling upon him in Balin's room, Bilbo had stared at him in fear before mumbling something incoherent and all but running away. Seeing that fear had cut worse than any Orc blade. Then and there Dwalin decided that until Bilbo approached him, he'd keep his distance. Painful as it was, it was the least Dwalin could do after his failure.

Things calmed, not good by any means but a routine was formed and the inhabitants of the mountain found themselves settling into their new lives. Dwalin hated it. Erebor wasn't the home he had dreamed of- not without Thorin and the lads. And the absence of his husband at his side was like a constant physical ache. Of course, as bad as it was it all became much worse two months after the battle.

Balin found him in one of the side tunnels that had been destroyed by Smaug. Dwalin was alone clearing rubble. The job was perhaps beneath a dwarf of his status but the physical activity helped take his mind off of everything wrong.

"Have you seen Bilbo recently?" His brother asked.

It was surprising how much such an innocent question hurt. Or, not the question but the answer. It had been several days since he had last seen the hobbit. "No."

Balin looked troubled. "I wanted his opinion on this crop rotation I drew up with the men of Dale. No one seems to know where he is."

Dwalin felt his stomach turn to lead. Without a word he rushed off, heading to Bilbo's chambers. He had promised himself to keep his distance unless asked for but that meant little when Bilbo was missing. He could be sick or injured or worse. Not all dwarves had warmed to the hobbit hero of Erebor. His dread grew when pounding on the door was met with silence. He tried the handle and was filled with unease to find it unlocked.

"Bilbo?" He called into the room. "Bilbo, please." Dwalin wasn't sure what he was asking for. If it was for Bilbo to reveal himself as though he had been hiding around the corner or if it was a prayer to a higher being for Bilbo to be safe and found.

Whatever his plea was it went unanswered. All he found was an empty set of apartments. Bilbo might not have had much but even the smallest personal item such as a button or comb were missing. Dwalin didn't know how long he stood there, staring at nothing before Balin found him. His brother didn't say anything, just looked at him with sad eyes before pulling him down to touch foreheads. They stayed like that for a long time, doing their best to give and receive comfort. Finally Balin pulled away.

"It's late lad, go get some rest."

Dwalin nodded but said nothing. In a state of shock he walked to his own room. By rote memory alone he found his chamber and took off his shoes and mail. Then the truth caught up with him. He sank into his bed with a wounded noise. Bilbo was gone. Bilbo had left. Despite how bad things were it had somehow never occurred to Dwalin that Bilbo would leave. With great sobs he buried his head in his hands. He had not held onto much hope, not since the gold sickness but now even that little was gone. It would be the last thing their burglar stole.

It wasn't until the next morning that Dwalin found the key. It was a small thing, plain and made of cheap metal that no dwarf would ever use for something as important as a lock. When he looked carefully he could see the words 'Bag End' written along the side. It did not make him feel better but there was a comfort to having something of Bilbo's. Dwalin placed the key on a simple chain and wore it close to his heart.

Over the next several days other members of the company found small gifts that could only have come from Bilbo. There was some talk and speculation and a lot of searching but deep down they all knew- Bilbo had left and these presents were his last goodbye. When the last dwarf, Bofur, found a small pouch of Shire leaf Dwalin went and locked himself in his rooms for a week. He could no longer pretend Bilbo was in the mountain hidden but nearby. His husband had left him and while Dwalin wasn't surprised he was no less devastated for having expected it.

Dwalin might have let himself waste away if not for the tenacity of his brother. Balin gave him a week to mope and wallow in his sorrow before coming and breaking down his door. Dwalin may have been the warrior but Balin was almost as strong. He still wouldn't have been able to bully Dwalin around if not for the younger dwarf's weeklong fast. He dragged Dwalin into the bath and soaked and scrubbed him until he no longer stank. Balin then preceded to stuff Dwalin into some clothes, drag him to the kitchen, and stuff him full of warm food and drink.

By this point Dwalin was more than a little mad at the manhandling but didn't have the energy to fight Balin off. "Ge'off ye bastard!"

"I'll not." Balin said and shoved a roll into Dwalin's mouth. "Now shut up and eat. I'll not have you fading away like some poncy elf."

Dwalin had several choice words to say to that but the roll prevented him from speaking. So he ate it. Along with the soup pushed in his direction and the potatoes and the meat pie though the last one didn't sit well with his stomach. Until then he hadn't realized how hungry he was.

The next morning Dwalin got up without prompting and found himself helping with removing rubble from one of the main hallways. He had to call it quits at lunch though. A week hiding in his room and not eating had significantly weakened Dwalin. After lunch he went to mope to his brother about his lack of strength but Balin would have none of it. He put Dwalin to work organizing and translating documents to be sent to the men of Lake-Town and now Dale. It was tedious work not to mention boring but despite Thorin's teasing when they was younger, Dwalin had the same education as his brother and better penmanship besides.

A pattern was quickly established to Dwalin's days. He would help with the reconstruction in the mornings and help Balin help Dain run a broken kingdom in the afternoons. Evenings he had to himself most days. The Company tried to meet up for a meal or drink when they could but dwarves were stretched thin while they waited for the first of the caravans to arrive and everyone was busy. Dwalin usually found himself in the evenings staring into the fire and remembering the 'good times' like an old gammer twice his age. The pain of Bilbo's absence didn't fade but as the days went by and blurred into weeks and months Dwalin found it easier to bear. Like learning to live with a missing limb.

He wasn’t living but he was surviving. It wasn’t until Dis arrived that something changed. Dwalin had known Dis all his life. Some of his earliest memories were of being at her side running after Thorin and Frerin. She was one of the strongest dwarves he knew and watching her grieve was hard. It felt like loosing Thorin and the lads all over again.

One evening, as the two got roaring drunk together, Dwalin told her about Bilbo. He even pulled out the key he wore at all times around his neck and showed her.

"What happened?" Dis asked.

"He went home." Dwalin said, gallantly ignoring the way his voice broke over the last word.

"So he's alive?"

"Aye."

Dwalin never saw her right hook coming. Before he quite knew what happened he found himself on the ground, ears ringing, staring up at a livid Dis.

"Wha?"

"You idiot!" She seethed. "Everyone I love is dead! I will not be able to see them again until I too have gone to the halls of our maker. What are you doing sitting here on your ass moping when your husband is alive and well?"

"He left!" Dwalin quickly scrambled back when it looked like she was going to punch him again. She punched like a stone giant.

"He gave you a key to his house! If that isn't an invitation then I'm an elf." Other members of the company had said similar things in the past in an attempt to cheer him up but he had been dismissive. The fact was Bilbo left without a word after weeks of avoiding him. Nothing about that led Dwalin to believe that Bilbo would welcome him. It was hard to hold onto these convictions though when faced with Dis's wrath.

"You should just go." Balin advised later. "If you don't Dis will physically remove you from the mountain herself and I would help."

It was hard to argue against the threat of exile. It only took a few days for Dwalin to organize everything he needed for the trip. Several members of the company offered to travel with him but Dwalin turned them all down. There was much he and Bilbo needed to talk about and another would only get in the way. Besides, he didn't want any witnesses if his husband decided to slam the door in his face.

Dwalin left early one morning to little fanfare. He rode a stout pony, dwarf bred for strength and endurance. He carried with him a single pack, his winter cloak, his weapons, and one large chest of gold. Dwalin had tried to protest the gold but Dis wouldn't let him.

"Shut up. It is a disgrace that your husband left the mountain empty handed after all he did for our people. You give him that chest and let him know there is more waiting besides. Not to mention your own 14th share which I've noticed you're not taking."

There really was no arguing with Dis.

It had taken the Company 6 months to reach Erebor from the Shire. Traveling on his own without all the troubles and delays that had plagued them Dwalin was able to make the return trip in half the time. He thought he probably could have used the extra 3 months. Dwalin was not a coward. He had even had a song about his bravery written after the battle of Azanulbizar though people quickly stopped singing it in his presence after he sent several loudmouths to the healers. All that being said, he was terrified to see his husband again. After already being rejected so thoroughly he could hardly understand why he was setting himself up to experience it again.

Long before Dwalin was ready the land gentled and the hills became green and rolling. Brightly colored round doors began to dot the hillsides and the roads filled with hobbits scurrying out of his way. A few of the braver ones would nod or even give a polite 'good morning' before quickly moving on their way. In each face Dwalin looked for his husband. Even once it became obvious the hobbit wasn't Bilbo he looked for familiar features. He could remember Bilbo explaining once how most of the Shire was related and knew some of these folk must be Bilbo's family. Those two, with their golden curls must be cousins. And the man with Bilbo's laugh whose smile curled just so in the corner was surely an uncle. And the old biddy two lanes back with the stormy blue eyes that looked on Dwalin without any fear was definitely Bilbo's grandmother.

In such a manner Dwalin kept his mind occupied until the morning he finally stumbled up to Bag End. He was almost surprised to find himself arrived. He spent some moments staring at the familiar green door wondering what to do next. It was early yet and so there were few to watch Dwalin's struggle. Dare he risk knocking and the chance that Bilbo might close the door in his face? He wasn't sure he could bear if that happened. Unconsciously Dwalin's hand reached up to fiddle with the key around his neck. It was a habit he had picked up during the journey.

Perhaps he could...

It would be much harder to kick Dwalin out once he was already in than to deny entrance in the first place. But no, that would be rude. In dwarf culture Bag End would be seen as belonging as much to Dwalin as it did his husband but he doubted Bilbo would see it that way. Still, he had given Dwalin the key. What was the point in giving someone a key if you didn't expect him to use it to unlock the door?

Mind made up Dwalin pulled the key from around his neck. Whispering a prayer to Mahal he put it in the lock and opened the door.