Bilbo is scared, and anxious. But mostly scared.
Thorin's birthing pains had started almost nine hours previously –his waters breaking halfway through a meeting with a foreign dignitary-, and Bilbo had just been rather unceremoniously thrown from the birthing room after having his hand crushed and been sworn at in at least three different languages.
However, the hobbit was not one to leave his beloved to face the pain alone –no matter how appealing it sounded- and he marched back in there, returning to his wailing partner who had progressed from swears to outright threats against his reproductive organs.
"I swear to Aulë, if you want another one you can do it your fucking self! FUCK" Thorin screamed and his sister wiped a cool rag across his sweating forehead, muttering soothingly in Khuzdul.
"I'm sorry my love, you're doing so well" Bilbo murmured against the sweaty skin of Thorin's cheek.
"It's time to push!" Óin calls from between Thorin's legs, and if the dwarf king was distressed before, now, he turns the air blue and under any other circumstances, Dís would be scrubbing her brother's mouth out with a bar of the honeyed soap found in the Dale markets.
The dwarf kings roar as he bears down, pushing his babe into the world echoes throughout the mountain, and more than one dwarrowdam nods in sympathy whilst their menfolk wince and cringe. The company themselves are loitering outside the birthing rooms, talking quietly and trying to occupy their hands with whittling little blocks of wood or –in the case of Ori- scribbling frantically in a tightly bound leather book.
Another agonised scream startles the eleven dwarves, Bofur automatically sliding an arm around a shaking Ori's shoulder.
After what feels like an age, the door opens, and Glóin's wife appears in the doorway, motioning for them to come in.
The scene they walk in on is positively heart-warming, the cavern lit with candles as the new parents sit proudly on the bed, a tiny bundle swaddled in the blue and silver of the line of Durin.
"May I introduce to you, Frerin, son of Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain" Bilbo grins, winding his fingers through Thorin's clammy ones and giving it a squeeze at the shocked look on his husbands face.
In dwarven families, if the child is born a boy, the father –or in same sex families the one who didn't carry the child- names the babe, and if it it's a girl, the one who carried the dwarfling names her and Thorin had never in a thousand years expected his beloved to name their first born after his little brother.
The older members of the company share vaguely nostalgic looks as they huddle around the new baby.
"He's so tiny" Kili whispers reverently as the babe is passed to Fili
"Hello, I'm Fili and this is Kili and we're your big cousins" Fili coos, holding the infant up so he can look more closely at his new cousin.
"Give 'im 'ere lad" Dwalin mutters, reaching out for the new prince –the whine from Thorin's sister sons is nothing short of pathetic as they reluctantly hand Frerin over-
As Frerin is passed round the company, Glóin's wife, Gloril and Dís direct several serving dwarves to dispose of the bloodied sheets and send for some light broth to help keep Thorin's strength up after the long labour. The food appears not minutes later, and the King accepts it gratefully.
Said king looks on proudly, slumped against his hobbit's chest as the son he brought into the world wraps his company around his littlest finger, the Durin blue eyes and thick burnished gold curls sucking in the sappy dwarves.
"Ye did well laddie" Balin says, coming to stand by King and Consort, beaming down at his cousin –who he loves like a brother- "Frerin's a strong, healthy babe and he'll have the entire kingdom bending over backwards to placate his every whim"
Thorin's smile says more than words ever can.
"Aye, I can see it now, the dwobbit who stole the hearts of a nation" Nori grins, rocking said dwobbit with a tenderness none would of expected from the normally brash dwarf.
"A dwobbit?!" Bilbo laughs, giving Nori an odd look
"Yes, a wee dwobbit babe. It's a smooshing of Dwarf and Hobbit" the wise nod that accompanies the statement leaves most of the group in tears, even Thorin gives a small chuckle –before wincing at the sudden movement- and Dís gets ready to shove the dwarrows out the door, only stopping at her brother's infinitesimal shake of the head.
When Frerin starts whimpering however, Dís and Gloril ushering the not immediate family out –Fili and Kili protesting- in order to give the little family time to bond.
"You know where we are if you need anything" Gloril trills, waving goodbye as she leaves for her rooms.
"I'm proud of you, brother." Dís whispers, kissing her oldest sibling on the crown of his head
"Come, I'll walk you to your chambers" Bilbo offers, placing his own kiss on Thorin's brow before slipping from the bed to escort his good sister to her rooms.
It's a short walk to the princess's home, and she and Bilbo walk in companionable silence until she reaches her door.
"Thank you, Bilbo Baggins, for honouring our fallen brother" Dís says formally before throwing herself into the startled hobbit's arms, shoulders shaking slightly as she muffles her sobs "and thank you for making Thorin so happy"
"Oh Dís, I will spend as many years as I have left trying to make him the happiest dwarf alive" Bilbo promises, stroking the dark hair that partially obscures his vision.
"My apologies, Bilbo, I don't know what came over me"
"It's fine babies have that effect on people"
The look that passes between the two Dís pulls away is filled with familial affection and trust
"Now, go see my brother and that bonnie babe of yours! They don't stay that cute for long" Dís gives a watery grin as she waves the hobbit off as she enters her chambers.
Once the door is shut, Bilbo all but flies back to the birthing rooms, desperate to see his husband and son. Reaching the battered oak door, he slips in quietly and all but melts when he sees Thorin sleeping peacefully, the woven basket gifted to them from Bard tucked against his side where tiny coos can be heard. Smiling softly, Bilbo creeps towards the bed and crawls into the soft sheets lacing his fingers through Thorin's before letting his eyes drift shut, a smile on his lips.