Naturally, because I have a shit load of work to do, I chose to write this chapter instead. :D Procrastination only grows worse once you leave school. I know tomorrow I'll be kicking myself, but this was worth it.

I'm feeling much more friendly towards Talarin, and you guys are definitely partly why. So thank you, as always, for your interest and support. *hugs*

BeatofHisHeart: You kind of predicted the pregnancy, didn't you. ;)

Knight's Queen: Wow, Talarin has managed to sway you a bit from Mads. I'm impressed! I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter and hope you continue to enjoy this series. :)

Just4Me: *nods* Groveling was a must. Thorin will be better behaved from now on. Until I contrive a new obstacle. XD

kaia: I don't think dwarves are the fainting type. But they're surprised!

meganbuttorff: I'm glad you enjoyed it!

girl43: You know, when I wrote Thorin's jealous rage, I did imagine how Richard would play it. I took a little inspiration from Guy and Lucas, though, since we've never seen Thorin react that way. I do think that was the last time he'll treat her that way, but they'll still argue over other things. However, I do believe fatherhood will mellow him a bit. XD

LianaDare8: Part of my fun as a writer is shocking you guys. Because then I get to read your reviews. ;)

Disclaimer: Fluff ahead.

Enjoy! :)

Also, a note on szelemér pregnancies. Since they're descended from elves, I wanted their biology to be similar. According to Tolkien (I have the source, if anyone's curious), elf gestation lasts a year, so I used that information as a springboard for szelemér pregnancies. However, as Talaitha will say, her pregnancy is different, so yeah...I'll be BSing as I go along. XD

Part VIII: Bump

Talaitha is beginning to show. The dwarves are beginning to talk. They're curious, and with good reason. Never before has there been a child of dwarven and szelemér parentage. Would the child grow a beard, like the dwarves? Or would the child be smooth-faced, like the fairies? The dwarves of Erebor have no idea what male szelemér look like, but the image most have in their minds resembles a smaller elf, possibly Thorin's height but definitely not with his build. And they transfer that image onto Talaitha's unborn child, sure that if it is a boy, he will look like an elfin Thorin. And if it is a girl, she will look like a dwarvish Talaitha.

When Dís overhears these theories in the market, she smiles to herself. Better the dwarves indulge in good-natured gossip than the criticism Talaitha had expected. Some dwarves opposed Thorin's union with Talaitha, but they were few to begin with and fewer still after Dáin had been stripped of his titles. Most had initially viewed Talaitha with cautious interest, but when they learned that she had rescued their king from death, it suddenly did not matter if she was not of their race.

"Are dwarvish babies born with beards?" Talaitha asks Dís one day, while they're baking bread.

"Kíli certainly wasn't," Dís replies with a laugh. "No, our babes are born smooth-cheeked and begin to grow facial hair around ten. Boys usually start earlier than girls, and some boys start later than others."

"I don't know anything," Talaitha confesses. Dís notices she's kneading the dough a little more vigorously than necessary. "Szelemér pregnancies last nearly a year, and dwarf pregnancies, nine months. But this," she gestures to her slightly distended stomach. "This is uncharted territory."

"You are a soul healer. Use what you know," Dís suggests. At Talaitha's blank look, she continues. "The child is within you. Do you feel it?"

"I feel its effects," the fairy says dryly.

"When I was pregnant with the boys, after the third month, I could feel them. I felt them grow. I felt their hiccups. I felt their kicks. I knew when they didn't like certain foods I ate. And I really knew when they didn't like certain people I interacted with."

Talaitha raises her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Oh yes," the she-dwarf nods. "Kíli absolutely hated one of the merchants in Ered Luin. Every time I would buy from him, he would throw a tantrum inside my belly. The nausea had passed after about three months, except when the merchant was nearby."

"That certainly sounds like Kíli," Talaitha laughs. But she sobers quickly. "I can feel life within me, but it's...vague."

"Touch it," Dís says softly. "The same way you touched Thorin and my sons. Then you will know it."

"It is too early for that, if this pregnancy is even remotely similarly to the ones I've witnessed."

Talaitha finishes shaping the abused dough into a loaf and slides it into the kiln. Dís places her loaf beside the fairy's and wipes her flour-dusted hands on her apron.

"Then when it is time, use your ability." The she-dwarf takes Talaitha's hands and squeezes them comfortingly. "You are a healer. All will be well."

Talaitha smiles at the older woman, grateful for the support. She longs for her mother, for her advice and safe embraces, but Dís is nearly as reassuring.

Later, after Talaitha has vomited up her dinner, Thorin is rubbing her back as she lies snuggled into his side. He's meant to be reading trade proposals from Rohan, but he can feel her warm breath against his thigh even through his breeches.

"How many times today?" he asks, looking down at his wife.

"Four," she mumbles. "I don't know why I bother eating. It just comes back up an hour later."

"My poor love." But he's smiling, and she knows it.

"This is your fault." She rolls onto her back to glare up at him. His smile widens. "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Smiling."

He frowns. "Better?"

"Yes," she says, hiding her face against his thigh again. Her voice is slightly muffled as she continues, "Girl or boy?"

"Either." He tries not to smile. "You?"

"Same." She sighs, and he enjoys the warmth of it. "As long as the baby is healthy."

"Mmm." Thorin turns his attention back to the proposal, keeping one hand on Talaitha's back, but he is distracted by the tenseness in her muscles. Setting aside the paper, he leans over to massage her shoulders. "Tell me."

Talaitha doesn't ask for clarification.

"I'm afraid."

His thumb grazes her nape, and she shivers. "So am I."

She touches his thigh and begins to idly trace patterns on it with her finger. "Afraid of the pregnancy or of fatherhood?"

He is silent, considering, as her muscles slowly relax beneath his gentle hands. She waits patiently, feeling less and less anxious the longer he rubs her back.

"Of both," he finally answers. "I do not know what pregnancy is like for szelemér women, but it is difficult for dwarf women. But even that would be better, for then I would know what to expect. How does a child of both races develop?"

"I don't know," Talaitha says. "And that's why I'm afraid. What if...what if something goes wrong? What if dwarves and szelemér aren't meant to reproduce?"

Thorin feels her tense again, and he bends down to kiss her hair. "Of all the women in Middle-earth, you are probably the best-equipped for this pregnancy. You are a soul healer. If you can touch me, you can certainly touch the life growing within you."

Talaitha turns onto her back, smiling as her nose brushes Thorin's. "Dís said the same thing this morning."

"Well, we are brother and sister," he says and kisses her lips. "But if you are concerned, why not write to the dark-haired elf?"

"Lord Elrond," Talaitha corrects, with an exasperated sigh. "Honestly, his name isn't that difficult to remember."

Thorin smirks, and she realizes he's teasing her.

"I already have." Thorin looks surprised. "I didn't tell you because I didn't think you'd approve."

"If I can tolerate the Elf King and his son, I can tolerate Elrond," Thorin says wryly. "Especially if it will ease your worries."

"And yours," Talaitha adds.

"Aye, and mine." He kisses her again, and this time she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him on top of her.

When he relinquishes her mouth, she grins up at him mischievously. "I hear sex is very effective at keeping nausea at bay."

"Have you?" He arches a brow. "I would think that would exacerbate it."

"No," she shakes her head. "I would know, being a healer and all."

"Well then," he says lowly, kissing her neck. "I defer to your expert knowledge."