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The trouble with hobbits

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Thorin was enjoying a rare quiet morning in bed with his lovely consort.

Deciding that after last week’s surprisingly successful meeting with the elves he more than deserved a break from his kingly chores, the dwarf king had delegated that day’s tasks on his trusted advisor, Balin.

Bilbo had woken him up in the most delicious way, and one thing had led to another. Now the dwarf warrior laid satiated on their huge bed, his big hand lovingly drawing endearments in khuzdul on his lover’s back, his little hobbit sprawled over him idly playing with his chest hair. Thorin had never dreamed of being so happy in all his life.

“I have wanted to ask you something for a time now”, Bilbo said, rubbing his cheek against the dwarf king’s chest like a contented cat.

“Mmmm?” Thorin nuzzled his burglar’s honeyed curls affectionately, signaling he was listening.

“Now that Erebor has been almost rebuilt to its former glory and even our friends have started growing families, what do you think about having a few children of our own?”

For a moment Thorin wondered if he had heard wrong. Maybe he had dozed off without realizing it?

“Children of our own?” he inquired, befuddled.

“Uhu”, Bilbo smiled dreamily, crossing his arms over the dwarf’s muscular chest and resting his chin on them to better look at his husband.

The dwarf king started to worry. Had his hobbit taken a hit to the head that nobody had noticed? He caressed his lover’s head searching surreptitiously for lumps.

“Bilbo, I’m male”, he stated the obvious.

“Yes, I noticed”, his consort smiled mischievously, one of his clever little hands caressing the dwarf’s toned abdominals with a clear destination in mind.

“And you are male too”, he continued, trapping the curious hand with his free hand and looking carefully at his burglar. Maybe he was joking?

“I really hope you haven’t just realized that”, the hobbit smiled, an eyebrow raised mockingly, “It wouldn’t say much about your powers of observation.”

Definitely joking then, the king decided, his worry abating.

“You are a little sassy thing, aren’t you?” Thorin playfully pinched his lover’s bare ass as a punishment.

“How you dare!” exclaimed his consort, pulling the dwarf’s chest hair in retaliation.

It escalated into a tickling war that soon turned into a cuddling war, with the dwarf king determined to spoon his adorable hobbit lover within an inch of his life.

“Yield or be prepared to suffer my righteous fury,” Thorin purred into Bilbo’s ear, nibbling the tip playfully.

“I yield, I yield, oh king,” his burglar laughed, caressing the dwarf’s hand on his belly. “But really, what does both of us being male have anything to do with having babies?”

“Joking again, Burglar?” inquired Thorin, lovingly nuzzling the soft curls in the hobbit’s nape.

“Joking?” murmured Bilbo distractedly, enjoying his husband's caresses. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, are hobbit lads able to bear babies?” the dwarf wondered, considering for the first time the possibility. After all, hobbits were very strange creatures as Bilbo had proved more than once. “Because dwarven males can’t, I assure you.”

“Hobbit lads bearing babies like cows or rabbits? Don’t be ridiculous Thorin, of course they can’t!” Bilbo chuckled, patting the dwarf’s hand reprovingly. “Neither can hobbit lasses for the record.”

“Yeah, now drop the other boot, my love,” the dwarf tickled his consort’s belly as a punishment for thinking he could trick him so easily. “All those little fauntlings my company and I saw running amok in the Shire, where do they come from? Eh?”

“Obviously from the garden, you silly dwarf,” the hobbit giggled, weakly trying to trap his husband’s hands between his own smaller hands. “I’m not completely sure about Erebor’s soil richness, but I think it will be better to start slowly. Only one or two children the first time, maybe...” his consort happily continued without realizing that the dwarf king had grown suddenly still.

From the garden!? Thorin wide eyes looked unseeingly over his consort curly head, his mouth open unattractively in surprise. Could it be possible? Growing children in the garden as if they were potatoes?

But confusion soon gave way to fierce joy when he realized what Bilbo’s words truly mean.

A son or a daughter of their own! Who cares about where do they come from.

Unable to express with words the happiness he was feeling, Thorin hugged his incredibly hobbit tightly, hiding his huge smile into Bilbo's lovely curls.

“Omf! I see you’re happy with the idea,” his burglar chuckled, patting the dwarf’s arms with fondness. “And then we could start with bigger numbers”, the hobbit carried on. “Maybe we can try nine or ten for the next harvest?”

Mahals hammer! The dwarf warrior felt delirious with happiness. Not only they were going to have children but they were going to have lots of them. Nine or ten in the next harvest, Bilbo had said. Nine or te-

Wait a moment.

“A-Almost a dozen?” the king asked a bit stupidly.

“For starters,” Bilbo nodded, snuggling happily into his lover’s arms. “How many do you want to have?”

“H-How many?” The dwarf king was starting to feel a bit light-headed.

“Yep. I’ve always been partial to two dozen, myself. But we can have more if you want,” Bilbo smiled beatifically, thinking about how lively the mountain would be with so many children running around.

Thorin didn’t answer his lover. He had fainted at the mention of two dozen children.

After all kings were made of sterner stuff, but even them had their limits.