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Who Was That?

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Bilbo Baggins was a very respectable consort, or at least he thought he was. Bilbo spent his days in Erebor with his husband, Thorin Oakenshield, the King Under The Mountain, governing and seeing to the needs of the residents of their kingdom. And this fine day, Bilbo decided to go to the royal library and look at the new books Gandalf had obtained from... Wherever he went when he traveled. This collection was a few big books titled "Journey to the West" and Bilbo, who had now openly expressed his adventuring streak a tad, was intrigued. 'Alright, this will be quite the read!' Bilbo thought to himself, taking the books off of the shelf and holding them tightly in his arms, but not too tight as to hurt the books.

He passed by his beloved talking with another dwarf, assuming it was business. That was, until the dwarf kissed Thorin’s cheek and left in a content mood, leaving Thorin in shock. This made Bilbo’s world crash around him. Tears welled up into the Hobbit’s eyes and his body started shaking uncontrollably. Thorin finally took notice of Bilbo and got concerned when he saw how he looked.

“Âzyungel, what’s wrong?” Thorin asked, rushing over to his husband and cupping his cheek in his bigger hand. Bilbo was internally livid.

‘How DARE he act as if I am naïve! I saw you!’ He ranted internally. Instead, Bilbo showed the books to Thorin, trying to blame book feels for his appearance.

“Ah, did you read a trying part?” Thorin smiled, kissing Bilbo’s forehead tenderly.

Bilbo felt sick. He wanted to erase every part of Thorin from his life. ‘Why would you be unfaithful to me? What did I do?’ Bilbo thought, now letting his tears fall silently.

“Let’s go back to our quarters, shall we?” Thorin suggested, not wanting Bilbo to feel embarrassed later about crying in public. Bilbo had no answer; he didn’t even nod or shake his head. Thorin escorted the Hobbit into their shared room, now moving to take the books from Bilbo.

“No!” he refused, clutching the books tightly as if they kept him alive. Thorin was intensely puzzled by his husband as Bilbo got a good three feet away from Thorin and finally spoke. “Don’t touch me! You have others you can go caress!” the Hobbit yelled angrily, his face a mess with tears. Thorin felt a mixture of confusion and pain deep in his chest.

“What do you mean? I don’t understand, what has gotten you so upset?” Thorin asked, his expression showing the pain he felt.

“You have the audacity to look LIKE THAT!? I KNOW ABOUT YOUR SECRET LOVER!” Bilbo confessed; his rage blinding and murderous. Despite all of this, Thorin took a few steps forward. Bilbo glared at him through his sobs “Don’t come near me!” He yelled a bit softer now, his voice hurting from the sudden screaming earlier.

“Bilbo, listen to me.” Thorin spread his arms out wide in a nonthreatening way, trying to get to the bottom of this puzzling debacle. “I have no secrets from you. You are my one and only, my treasure of treasures, my heart of hearts. I have no secret lover hidden away.” Thorin explained.

“Well obviously, she kissed you in the library where anyone could see!” Bilbo snidely remarked. It all clicked for Thorin then.

“Oh, my ghivashel… You have the wrong idea. I was simply negotiating trades with a dwarf from Terrinville, the cluster of dwarves and humans that formed a city a few sunrises away from ours? It was simply a cultural misunderstanding.” Thorin explained, finally understanding why Bilbo was so upset. And the worst part is that he did this to him. Thorin, unwittingly or not, made Bilbo feel insignificant in his life, unwanted, dispensable. The King dropped to his knees in front of Bilbo and hung his head low.

Bilbo looked at his husband in confusion. In dwarf culture, if a higher authority (especially a king) gets on his knees for you in apology, it means truthfully, they were wrong, or there was a grave mistake that affected the one they kneeled to.

“I apologize deeply for my inability to be more understanding.”Thorin solemnly whispered, looking Bilbo square in the eyes. The Hobbit looked upon the king in forgiveness, but still sadly.

“She knew you were married, right?” Bilbo asked quietly.

“She did, and she was married too. She loves her husband, very much from what she had told me.” Thorin answered. Bilbo’s lips quivered as he dropped the books in realization at his mistake. He rushed over to the dwarf in tears, wrapping his arms around Thorin and sobbing into Thorin’s neck.

“How could I doubt you…? I’m a terrible husband and consort.” Thorin placed is hand into Bilbo’s soft curls,

“My darling, you had every right to doubt me, and you are not a terrible husband, nor consort. You are a perfect husband and even more perfect consort to Erebor.” He consoled, hugging his husband back.

And there; in their room, on the floor, they embraced for a terribly long time, whispering litanies of adoration and love into the other’s ears, and in between love confessions, they shared tender kisses and smiles. And there they stayed, enjoying each other’s company until they were called upon, and even then, they took each other in their hands and stayed together. Everything is as it should be. Thorin was with his Bilbo, and Bilbo was with his Thorin. Forever and ever, as it always should be.