Three updates in two days! The next update will be a while, I have final coming up. Enjoy!
Thorin and Gearin settled down on the living room couch, eyes periodically shifting to Ori where he played in front of the fire, muscle twitching periodically from overuse at the forge. It was a type of pain that Thorin hadn't felt in years and he reveled in the familiarity while he told Bilbo of his family.
"Dis was furious when Father told her that she was to marry a dwarf she had never met," Thorin told Bilbo as she stirred fragrant dried herbs into the stew that was bubbling in the large cast iron pot over the fire in the dining room, every so often casting a glance at the small dwarfling sitting quietly with his toys through the thankfully open archway between the two rooms.
"I can certainly understand why," Bilbo informed him with a sympathetic sniff, causing Thorin to chuckle.
"As can I," he assured her, "but it turned out well in the end."
"Dis stormed into the main hall as I was arguing on her behalf and marched right up to Víli with death in her eyes. I think Víli would have preferred to be chased naked through the halls of his ancestral home by a band of rampaging Orcs at that moment rather than face her temper," he told her, "Dis took one look into his eyes and commanded the wedding take place immediately because she'd found her One. Then she kissed him in front of the entire council of lords."
"It sounds like she never does things halfway," Bilbo observed with amusement clear in her voice.
"She undoubtedly does not," Gearin said before Thorin could respond, "I saw at the market once. Ripped into a vender who's tried to cheat a blind woman, she did. You would have thought she was Mahal reborn with the vengeance she swore against him."
"Are arranged marriages common for dwarves?" Bilbo asked with a quick glance at her uncle, making Thorin think Gearin hadn't shared much of their race's history with Bilbo. Thorin wasn't sure if he was pleased Gearin had kept their secrets or not.
"After the dragon took Erabor," Thorin told her, "our people wandered for decades before we settle in the Blue Mountains. My father had always worried about Dis, she was his only daughter and dwarrowdams are near sacred to our race, but after a few close calls he became near obsessive about her safety." Gearing nodded his agreement at the memory of darker times and took a long swallow of his ale.
"Close calls?" Bilbo asked with a confused frown. Gearin sighed sadly and Thorin turned a dark gaze to the honey colored liquid in his simple pewter stein.
"The roads are dangerous places my dear," Gearin told her sadly, "with men who don't like to take no for an answer." Gearin held her gaze to make sure she understood what he was implying and nodded sadly when she swallowed harshly at her understanding.
"My father wanted her to have a home," Thorin finally spoke again, "Somewhere she could be safe, and he didn't really think about my sister's reaction."
"She was lucky she found her True Home in what was his name? Vili?" Bilbo said, "It could have been a nightmare to be forced to marry someone you don't love." Bilbo stepped away from the stew long enough to stretch for the bowl of sugared raspberries Thistle had placed on the heist shelf for whatever reason.
"Her what?" Thorin asked as he reached for the bowl that rested far over Bilbo's head, ignoring the implication that Thrain would have forced Dis into a marriage she truly didn't want. Bilbo took the bowl with a quick word of thanks and began mixing in the ingredients she needed to make the raspberry tarts Throin had immediately fallen in love with while keeping an eye on the simmering stew.
"Her True Home," Bilbo explained, "The one person in the whole world that makes life worth living when all else has turned to darkness. We call that person our true home."
"I see," Thorin said, though he really didn't have a firm grasp on the concept, "Do you know instantly upon meeting them?" Thorin thought it was possibly like a dwarf's One, but dismissed the idea when Bilbo shook her head.
"Do dwarves know their Ones immediately?" Bilbo asked as she continued to stir the stew over the fire to keep it from burning. Thorin thought about how to answer her question, trying to decide between the full truth or easing her into the idea.
"They know the minute their eyes meet," Thorin admitted, keeping his eyes fixed on Bilbo to gauge her reaction, "It becomes difficult for them to be apart from, especially for the males. They have strong desire to protect females from birth, but the desire to protect their Ones goes beyond anything they have ever felt before and they have very difficult time saying no to them." Bilbo glanced away from the bubbling liquid while still stirring and raised an eyebrow at Thorin, who was thankful that his short beard covered his blush.
"Bilbo," Thistle called from the pantry, "Did Ori move things around again? I can't find the yeast." Bilbo giggled and waved her uncle over.
"Stir this," she told him, "I'll be right back." She disappeared into the large pantry, allowing Thorin to collapse further into his chair with a soft groan.
"Very smooth lad," Gearin chuckled, "very smooth."
"Quiet Gearin," Thorin muttered darkly as he downed the rest of his ale. Gearin opened his mouth for another retort when he was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. With a low groan, Thorin pushed himself out of the chair so Bilbo wouldn't have to stop helping Thistle in the pantry, where he could hear the two arguing quietly.
Whatever Throin had been expecting, mostly Lobilia to visit Ori and glare at him, it certainly wasn't his little brother.
"What in Mahal's name are you doing here Frerin?" He nearly bellowed, making his brother cringe and rub his ear with an exaggerated wince.
"I see a relaxing environment hasn't helped you at all," Frerin complained as he pushed past him into the entryway, leaving Thorin behind to close the door with a growl, "Gearin!" Thorin reentered the living room to see Frerin and Gearin embracing enthusiastically and slid back onto the couch while Ori looked up at the newcomer in suspicion.
"I asked you what are you're doing here?" Throin hissed at his little brother when Frerin finally let go of Gearin and slid into the seat next to him.
"I may have yelled at a delegation from Rivendell," Frerin admitted, making Thorin groan in dismay. He would be the first to admit that eleves were low on his ranking of the races residing in Middle Earth, because of Thranduil's actions during the dragon's attack, but they owed Elrond and the elves of Rivendell a great debt. When the elf lord had heard what had befallen the dwarves of Erebor he had personally gathered healers and warrior hunters to ride to their aid. The aid had been immediately followed by an offer of sanctuary in the hidden valley. Thorin had swallowed his pride and convinced his father and grandfather to accept. It was there that the ruling three, as Frerin had started calling them, had decided to settle in the Blue Mountains.
"What possessed you to risk one of our greatest allies?" Thorin growled at a suitably chastised looking Frerin.
"One of the elves scared Fili and Kili," Frerin told him, "called them hairy little rats that should be thrown down the mountain."
"Did you throw him down the mountain?" Thorin growled at the knowledge that his nephews had been insulted and afraid. Frerin snorted at the change in attitude and shook his head.
"It wasn't necessary," he said, "Once I was pulled off on him, Elrond sent him back to Rivendell in disgrace." Thorin nodded in acceptance, knowing that Elrond had no forgiveness to creatures who harmed the young of any race in any way.
"So what are you doing here?" Thorin asked again, determined to get an answer and get his brother back on his way.
"Dis believes that my staying in the Shire during the Rivendell delegation's stay to prevent any more unpleasant incidents from arising," Frerin told him, "Her words."
"How long are you staying?" Thorin asked with another glance at where his One was hidden in the pantry.
"How long are you?" Was the retort.
Thorin groaned at the realization that he was going to be force to court his One with his mischievous younger brother hovering over his shoulder and dropped his head back onto the back of the couch while Frerin grinned unrepentantly.
"Da?" Thistle's voice drifted through the front door of the shop, momentarily distracting Gearin and Frerin from their teasing of Throin, "We heard the door? Oh hello." Thorin peaked up to see if he would be forced to punch his brother for ignoring, or forgetting, the manners their mother had instilled on them and snapped his head up at the look on Frerin's face. The younger dwarf was staring at Thistle Greenstone with undisguised awe, and was being met with an unsure and slightly disturbed gaze form the dwabbit in question. Luckily, for Frerin anyway, the current heir to the throne of Erid Luin reclaimed his temporarily misplace common sense and greeted the young woman.
"Good evening," he said, only it emerged as a squeak that Thorin hadn't heard since Frerin had come of age and his balls had finally dropped. In response to his brother's plight, Thorin did what any loving brother would do. He shoved his hand into his mouth and attempted to fight back his laughter at the sight of his brother greeting his One for the first time.