"When u fall into me
It feels so sweet, like dreaming
Press yourself into me
Let me feel your breathing"
(Jewel, Sweet Temptation)
Bilbo had just helped himself to a second goblet of red Dorwinion, when he saw his wife heading back to their table, frowning.
"So did you finish your chit-chat with your girlfriends over there?" he asked acidly.
Immediately, Dís drew her eyebrows together, scowling like Thorin had always done when someone or something had pissed him off.
"I advise you to show more respect towards your wife and Queen, Bilbo Baggins!" she snapped back before taking her seat next to him, removing the goblet from his hand and placing on the table, far out of his reach.
"Hey, it's my wedding, too, so why can't I enjoy my drink?" he asked.
Dís took a deep breath before placing her fingers under his chin so that he had to look at her.
"I think you've had enough to drink, Bilbo... I need you and your sharp wits, not some drunken oaf and his drunken antics, if I had wanted that I could have married Dáin... Never mind, there's definitely something going on here..." she explained with a worried expression and Bilbo felt bad for pouting over being let down by his own wife in the middle of his wedding dance.
Of course, Dís would have good reasons for doing so, not just realising that her new husband was the laughingstock of the whole party. What had he been thinking... Him, a hobbit from the Shire with his ridiculous big, hairy feet and embarrassingly hairless face and body agreeing to marry a dwarven queen (thankfully also beardless, contrary to some other dwarrowdams, yet she, at least, sported some silky sideburns)!
But Dís had made it clear on more than one occasion that she needed him at her side, that he comforted her, helped her to think rationally and prevented her from doing something rash. Theirs was a marriage of convenience, not of love, but he was hers and she was his and they belonged together now.
"And what exactly is going on here?" he asked her.
Dís shrugged. "I'm not sure. It might just be some stupid little prank, however, this prank could have had great consequences... One of our seamstresses had apparently found it hilarious to outfit the Princess of Dale and her elf in some harlot's dresses," she revealed.
Harlots... The concept was strange to hobbits, yet he had lived long enough among dwarves to know what that meant.
In dwarven culture, harlots - or whores - were females without One's who provided certain services to male dwarves who were also lacking their One's, but in dire need of some female company...
Bilbo gasped. "Oh no! Does... does Bard know? He'll declare war on us!" he exclaimed, discreetly looking into the man's direction, knowing full well that to the newly crowned King of Dale his children, the only thing he had left of his late, beloved wife, meant the world to him.
Dís shook her pretty head, adorned with the lace and flowers he had given her.
"No, I'm sure I could intervene just in time. Sigrid and Tauriel are changing into other dresses right now," she answered and it took a load of Bilbo's mind. He liked the former bargeman turned king and didn't want to have him as an enemy.
"So, since our first dance as a married couple was interrupted, would you do me the honour and dance with me now?" he asked his wife and the smile she gave him was priceless; for a moment, Bilbo coud imagine what she must have looked like in her youth, before the worries of a life in exile, of the world, had put that almost permanent scowl on her face and the silver streaks in her hair.
"I would love to," she answered honestly and Bilbo took her hand, leading her to the dancefloor.
It was one of the more pensieve compositions, resulting in him holding his bride close, feeling every curve of her firm body pressed against his und Bilbo could sense Lobelia's eyes on him and his new wife (and yes, he had invited that insufferable hobbit woman and her husband, his first cousin, to his wedding, counting on her declining the invitation because it was too much of an adventure to travel that far east, yet rubbing it into her face that he was to be some Prince Consort to a dwarven queen, but he had been wrong, luckily his favourite second cousin, Drogo Baggins, and his lovely wife, Primula, had also come, making the visit from his relatives bearable).
It was a small triumph... Until he felt someone tapping his shoulder.
He had hoped for one of the dwarves from the company, knowing that Dís had always been close friends with Dwalin, Nori, and Bofur, yet it was King Bard of Dale.
"Do you mind?" he asked politely.
Bilbo shook his head and handed his partner over to him, hoping that Bard only wanted to keep up appearances and not ask about the whereabouts of his daughter and the elf.
For a moment, he was just standing there, until Bard's youngest daughter, little Princess Tilda, asked him to dance with her and he gladly did her the honour.
Bilbo had always loved children, yet due to his desinterest in getting married to a nice and proper hobbit lass in his youth, he had come to terms with the fact that he would never be a father himself.
Then, after Dís had started taking him to her bed, he had dared to hope otherwise, until a conversation with Balin had choked off such notions.
Dís was an older dwarrowdam, almost past child-bearing age, and he was from a different race, so, according to the old scholar, it was very unlikely for them to have some offspring together.
Bilbo, however, didn't mind.
Thorin had always known that he would never have children himself since he hadn't been interested in females, so he had accepted his sister-sons as his heirs... And Drogo had confessed to him just before the ceremony that Primula was expecting... So, well, maybe Bilbo should also be content with naming a relative his heir, not his own son or daughter.
"So how is life in Dale, now that you are a princess?" he finally asked the little girl who was almost about his own size, yet so much younger.
Tilda snorted. "Boring! They want to prepare me for becoming the ruler or even queen of another realm through marriage, yet I don't want to marry, it's stupid!" she declared, sporting a scowl that was worth the one Dís always wore.
Bilbo smiled at her soothingly.
"Why is it stupid? I'm also only Prince Consort because I decided to marry Queen Dís," he answered.
Tilda shot him a glance that showed how intelligent the litte girl really was.
"You are Prince Consort because Queen Dís wanted you to marry her...," the girl corrected with the conviction only minors dared to show, however, she continued, "But Queen Dís is nice, she always lets me eat as many cookies as I want to and she lets me drink tea, although Da thinks I'm too young for that tea, yet how should I know that my future husband will be as nice as her?"
Bilbo didn't know how to aswer that rather philosophical question, so he came up with a compromise.
"Well, you are still very young, so I don't think that you should now rack your brains about this... I think your sister will have to marry way before you have to," he declared self-confidantly.
Tilda, however, frowned at him. "Sigrid knows the one she will marry, but I don't!" she replied, even stamping her little foot.
Bibo was at a loss.
He didn't know that the Princess of Dale was already engaged to someone... Yet people tended to forget to inform him, although he was involved with the Queen under the Mountain.
"Oh? And who is that?" he asked innocently.
Tilda looked at him as if he was the most stupid person she had ever met.
"It's Tauriel, of course! They always send me away because they want to be alone and they are sleeping together in the same bed, totally naked!" the little girl said, pouting, and Bilbo had the feeling that he (and probably his wife) had missed a lot of what was going on.