Warning: This was a special request from a friend. Turn back now if mpreg isn't your thing.
Needless to say, I do not own anything related to The Hobbit, Lord of The Rings, any of J.R.R. Tolkien's works, or Peter Jackson's versions.
A Matter of Heart
When Bilbo Baggins stepped foot from his snug hobbit hole and placed his hairy feet on the path of adventure, he had no idea what was in store for him. If he had possessed any inkling where he would be swept off to, perhaps he would never have cheerfully said good morning to a wizard. But the halfling was ignorant of what was to come and chased after the band of dwarves instead of letting them pass quietly from the Shire.
It wasn't long before Bilbo realized something very important on the journey. He was hopelessly drawn to the leader of the company. That fact made the long treks and even longer nights both a sinful pleasure and a nightmare. Miles slipped by as he kept his eyes trained on the straight back and wide shoulders of the princely dwarf, but nights dragged on as he longed for the warmth of a larger body beside him and calloused hands on his skin. The thoughts plagued him to the point he took the time while gathering firewood to satisfy his cravings more than once.
For his part, Thorin did not miss the long looks and searing gazes from the hobbit. He threw carefully chosen words at the halfling, meant to turn him away, but the burglar was tenacious. When Bilbo stood resolutely between Azog and the dwarf, Thorin no longer wished to dissuade the hobbit. But he knew the time would never come for his change of heart as his eyes slipped closed.
Miraculously, he opened his eyes again to the bright light of dawn and worried faces looking down on him. Thorin's first words were for the hobbit and he fell back on the taunts against him to apologize. The relief he felt in the hobbit's form while embracing him made his heart swell. Perhaps he would go to the halfling when the moment presented itself and take great pleasure in his willing body.
Camp was made in the shelter of the great rock and Thorin allowed Balin to remove his armor and check his wounds. The breathless way the Shireling offered to fetch firewood made the dwarf almost smile to himself. What indeed would he find if he followed the burglar. Images of pressing the smaller form to the loamy ground distracted him as the older dwarf prodded his injuries and cleaned them. He wondered if the hobbit's face would flush in embarrassment and denied pleasure, or if he would nip at his lips, twisting with need below him.
Finally released from Balin's ministrations, Thorin made some excuse and drifted into the trees in search of his burglar. When he found the hobbit, he could not have imagined the scene before him. Bilbo had one arm braced against a tree, trousers undone and loose around his hips, his other hand furiously stroking himself. Want flooded the dwarf and he could not resist approaching the halfling.
Pleasure had dulled Bilbo's hearing and he gasped when strong arms trapped him against the tree. The much larger dwarf surrounded the Shireling and he only took a moment to relax into the embrace, slowly stroking his softened cock back to full hardness. Thorin pressed his face into his shoulder, nuzzling the warm flesh and letting his breath raise goose pimples across it. The burglar let out a whimper of need that shot straight to the dwarf's groin.
Thorin bit the throbbing pulse under his lips, pleased by the startled cry released by the hobbit. He gripped the stroking hand and squeezed, dragging a mewl of desire from the smaller creature. The dwarf set a relentless pace and slipped his arm around his chest, drawing the halfling tight to his body. Bilbo bit down hard on his lip to restrain his groan of completion as the older dwarf wrenched the pleasure from his body. All of the strength left his legs and he was held up by the leader of their company and the object of his unbridled desires.
A fierce wave of possessiveness came over the prince as he licked and nibbled at the flushed hobbit's neck. "No one else is to see you come undone, understand?"
"Only you, Thorin." Bilbo agreed and pressed himself into the wall of warm flesh at his back.
Once the burglar could stand again, the dwarf tilted his face up and kissed him hard. It was a branding kiss of promise and warning to obey and Bilbo agreed wholeheartedly. When Thorin returned to the camp followed shortly by the hobbit, Balin noticed the smug smile playing at their lips like a secret longing to burst forth.
Days of travel ended in the same routine. Dwarves would go about their duties, clearing the ground and starting a fire before Thorin would wander off and Bilbo would follow. The hobbit never had difficulty finding the older dwarf and never complained when the prince would forego his own pleasure in favor of driving the hobbit to the very edge and over it. Somehow they reached an agreement that pleasure was freely given and the only words that needed to be spoken were pleas for more.
Arriving at Beorn's house changed the dynamic of the company. For once they were not setting up camp and bundled together for warmth. Thorin and Bilbo had no excuse to slip away, and nowhere to go to. There wasn't a moment alone to themselves and the dwarf resented it. He wanted to lead the hobbit away from the others and spread him wide before plunging into his achingly hot depths. There was no limit to the times and ways he wanted the burglar.
By the third day, the prince was done waiting. He was going to take the hobbit in front of the company, Gandalf included, if he did not find somewhere to claim him in private. In the end, it was only by luck that found them locked in a small room, quite alone, and a levatious look on the dwarf's face. Bilbo kissed the taller man's lips, deftly undoing buckles and ties until the heavy furs slipped to the floor followed by belts and weapons until only the well worn tunics separated their skin. It only took moments for the halfling to remove his own clothes.
Thorin bent the small creature to his whim, tasting where he wished and touching what he desired. Never once did the Shireling pull away or flinch. He wanted to follow the charismatic dwarf, no matter where he lead, wanted to feel the raw power moving within him, and wanted to experience the burn of being taken thoroughly and completely.
At one point, the hobbit may have been ashamed by the wanton behavior, but he let those thoughts go as he felt the thick finger press him open and explore his most intimate parts in earnest. Nothing mattered when he was breached by a second finger and reduced to a whimpering, quivering ball of nerves. When the third finger stretched him impossibly tight, Bilbo opened his mouth to beg for more. Thorin obliged, positioning himself to plunder the darkest caverns of the burglar but he held back for a heartbeat.
"Who do you belong to?"
"You, Thorin." Bilbo tried to push back and impale himself but firm hands on his hips stilled his movements. "Only you!"
"Mine!" The prince pressed himself inexorably forward until they could be no closer.
It was torturous to be separated from the dwarves in Thranduil's dungeons. Hidden from view by his ring, the hobbit searched for the rest of the company, quickly locating all but one, Thorin. Bilbo ached to find the dwarf, both for the prince's sake of company and for his own desire. In the days that he searched, the halfling refused to touch himself before finding his lover and companion.
The neglect of his need made the moment he found Thorin all the sweeter to the halfling. Their brows rested together through the bars and the dwarf cupped his cheek. When they broke their kiss of greeting, the prince asked about each of their companions in turn, nodding at the dim report. Everyone had been captured and imprisoned. They were fed and watered, but there was little hope of escape.
Forced to leave the dwarf by returning elves, Bilbo visited when he could, but continued to resolutely deny himself any pleasure. It was a driving force to continue searching for escape, and he drove himself to look through the palace for anything that could help. The hobbit's persistence paid off when he noticed the comings and goings of the barrels through the lowest halls and the trap door leading to the river. He was practically hard with the thought of escape and what he could finally do when the steel bars were no longer between him and the dwarf.
When they finally reached Laketown and were given rooms for the night, Bilbo didn't wait for Thorin to undress before he pushed him back on the bed, trousers undone, and straddled the waiting cock. It was all pushing fingers and biting teeth, and the hobbit discovered that the dwarf made the most erotic sound when his hair was pulled. They spent themselves quickly before bathing in the slightly cooled water.
The hobbit was seriously considering drifting off to sleep in the comfortable bed when the dwarf slid in beside him. Thorin moved slowly inside his small hobbit and held him close, savoring his soft form and curly hair. Bilbo never wanted to leave that cozy room on the lake but he knew the prince would be eager to enter the kingdom that was his birthright.
When after several days, the dragon did not return, Thorin decided it was safe enough to let down their guard a little. He banished the rest of the company from the treasure hall, leaving no room for questions. No one balked at the strange order as they saw the glower on the prince's face. If he wanted to be left alone with the gold, that was his right. Only a few of the company realized that Bilbo had not been ejected with the rest.
The hobbit had no use for gold and gems and after the initial awe of being surrounded by so much wealth had worn off, he dismissed the treasure. But he knew what it meant to Thorin and did not object when the rest of the company was sent away. Once they were completely alone, the dwarf shed his fur lined coat and spread it across the gold. He undressed the burglar slowly, revealing soft skin and worshiping every inch. Carefully, the prince sifted through the mounds of treasure and plucked out a ring.
Thorin adorned the hobbit in finery befitting royalty before laying him down on the fur coat. Bilbo had never felt more special in that moment as he held the king close to his heart and listened to his whispers.
"Always like this, little one."
"Never a dream."
"You're more precious than all of this."
There was no doubt in his mind as he gave his heart completely to Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the mountain, amid the gold and jewels of his people.
"Little hobbits do not belong in battle!"
Thorin roared as Bilbo appeared at his side before the goblin ranks. There was a fierce shouting match that impressed many of the Iron Hills dwarves, and the hobbit refused to stay in the mountain while everyone else fought and could die at any moment.
"You're letting Fili and Kili fight and they are your heirs."
"They're trained warriors."
"I'm not useless."
"You might as well be!" Thorin knew instantly that he had spoken in haste and regretted the words. He never once thought of the halfling as useless or a burden. Indeed he knew they would not be standing on the field of battle without him.
A wall came down behind the hobbit's eyes at the furious words and he snapped his mouth shut. The click of his teeth was louder than his next words. "Useless except to warm your bed and make you shout my name in pleasure."
The king reached for the hobbit's hand but Bilbo stepped back. Thorin tried again and caught hold of one small elbow, using his brute strength to drag the hobbit closer. He looked carefully into the Shireling's eyes to show his truth. "I have never thought you useless, I only wish to protect you."
Bilbo stopped fighting and his eyes softened. "Then let me stay by your side."
"No, there would be nothing for me in Erebor if you came to harm. Stay in the mountain."
"Swear you will survive this."
"For you, I will." Thorin pressed a quick kiss to the hobbit's lips before pushing him gently back. "Now go, back up the hill."
For the sake of the promise and his trust in the king, Bilbo obeyed. At least as far as Thorin could see. As soon as he was out of sight, the halfling dipped his hand into his pocket and slipped on his ring. He drew Sting and watched the battle progress. Occasionally a lone orc or goblin would pass by his hiding spot and he did his part for the war, thinning the enemy numbers as he could.
The sun began to sink behind the lonely mountain but still the battle raged. Bilbo shouted with joy when the eagles joined the fray causing a wounded elf to look around in alarm. Goblins and orcs began to flee the battle until only elves, men, and dwarves remained standing. Knowing the dwarves would soon be returning to the mountain, the hobbit hurried to meet them.
There were no songs of victory and battle, only the sounds of armor being dropped to the stone floors and the cries of the wounded. Eventually someone pointed the hobbit towards a small room where Gandalf stood leaning on his staff, one arm in a sling. Bilbo slowed as he saw the wizard's bowed head and he assumed the worst.
"Thorin?"
"Inside." Gandalf wouldn't meet the halfling's eyes.
Bilbo almost didn't dare push the heavy door open, but he had to know. If there was any hope, he would give anything for the keeper of his heart. When he finally looked upon the wide bed, his heart leapt to his throat. Instantly he knew it was not Thorin laying broken on the bed, but Fili and Kili. The king held his heir's cold hand tightly, shaking in rage at the damage done to his nephews. The brothers looked surprisingly peaceful, having been cleaned and their wounds wrapped, but their breath had long left their young bodies.
Bilbo stood silently beside the king mourning his kin and heirs. He too felt their loss keenly as they had been the heart of the company on their long tramp eastward. Their easy camaraderie endeared the hobbit to the brothers and he remembered fondly Kili's butchering of his name. The song they sang drove an arrow of fear through the halfling as he tried to rescue his pottery, but now it was a bright memory of their easy smiles. It was unfair that two so young were taken to the Hall of Waiting before their elders and the Shireling wept.
"He would not defend himself when Kili fell." The words were hollow and toneless from the king. "I feared losing one of my sister-sons on this journey, but I have lost both."
Bilbo only thought to offer his sympathy and support for the dwarf when he placed his hand on Thorin's shoulder but he was instantly rejected. "Do not touch me!"
The hobbit stepped back from the king, flinching as if he expected to be struck. "I-I'm sorry."
"Leave my sight. You are no longer welcome in my mountain!"
Tears welled in the hobbit's eyes. "What did I do?"
"I will not have your near." Thorin turned back to his nephews, refusing to look upon the Shireling any longer.
Bilbo fled the room and rushed past Gandalf, ignoring the wizard's calls. He didn't consciously think about where he went as he ran, turning away from inhabited corridors. Eventually, the hobbit was so lost in the mountain he could not have found his way out even if he wished to. It could have been hours or days later that the halfling heard movement in the dark tunnel. Vaguely, he contemplated slipping on his magic ring but he changed his mind. If it was some creature coming to eat him, he wasn't going to make it difficult. To his great surprise, a heavy form settled beside him.
"You certainly made yourself hard to find." Balin's voice drifted out of the darkness.
"I'm not welcome here any more and didn't know where else to go."
"And I am sorry about that."
"What did I do wrong, Balin?"
"You didn't do anything wrong, laddie." The dwarf sighed. "Thorin just didn't handle it well."
"I just don't understand."
"I know Thorin likes you, and I'm sure he would have approached you, but now he's the last of his line and has to think of his kingdom." Balin tugged thoughtfully on the end of his beard. "We dwarves only love once and I think he is trying to stop that from happening."
Bilbo wanted to tell the older dwarf that hobbits were the same, only giving their hearts to one, never whole without them. He wanted to cry out that he had already given Thorin everything. But then he thought of all the dwarves in Erebor and the king they would need. The halfling could not bring himself to bind the dwarf to him out of selfish desire.
"I think I understand. I'll leave right away."
All of the remaining company came to say goodbye to the hobbit, and to press gifts into his hands. Balin brought two chests from the treasury. Dwalin handed him a small knife for cooking and whittling. Bofur handed over his own well worn hat. Bombur presented him with an artfully carved bowl and spoon. Bifur grunted something in Khazad the halfling didn't understand and draped a waterproof cloak over his shoulders. Oin brought a packet of pipe weed and Gloin replaced the pipe he had lost on the journey. Dori gave him a satchel for tea, and Nori a hand made cup. Ori timidly passed over a red book, motioning to open it. Several pages had already been filled with sketches of the entire company and Bilbo smiled his thanks.
The hobbit refused to look towards the balcony overlooking the gate. He didn't want to be disappointed that Thorin did not see him off. It was easier to tell himself that the king watched from the heights long after the halfling passed out of view than to admit he could never see the lordly dwarf again. Slowly, as the mountain fell into the distance and trees blocked it from view, it became easier to trudge along on his pony, only Gandalf for company.
In Mirkwood, it seemed as if some evil was lifted from the woods, for the wizard sang and whistled merrily and there was no pressing weight over the land. But Bilbo could not manage to smile or laugh or join in any of the songs. He remembered sitting in his snug hole, cursing the dwarves that had decimated his kitchen and ransacked his house when they had begun to sing. They spoke of great mountains and hoards of gold and the adventure to return their home. Perched on a pony, leaving the companions he thought of now as family, the hobbit cursed the gray cloaked wizard and his machinations.