WooHoo! Two week break from school (even though I have to study ahead of time), so hopefully I can get a few more chapters up. I make no promises. Enjoy!
Thorin bit his lip as Frerin seemed to stumble over his tongue in an attempt to think of something suave to say, and fail miserably.
"Who are you then?" Thorin had to credit Frerin with at least evening his voice out a bit, but wanted to slap him upside the back of the head for even seeming to be rude. Frerin must have felt the same because he winced nearly the second after he spoke, though anyone who hadn't spent decades at his side wouldn't have seen it. Thistle raised a nearly imperious eyebrow at him and gave a quick polite curtsy.
"Thistle Greenstone, at your service," she said before turning to her father, "Wash up for dinner, we'll set another place." With a last glance at a mildly stunned Frerin, Thistle flounced back into the kitchen to inform Bilbo of their new guest. Once she was out of sight, Gearin reached out and clocked Frerin upside the back of the head, sending the young prince's face into the solid table. Frerin groaned as he sat back up, holding his bruised nose.
"What was that for?" he asked the older dwarf grumpily.
"That's no way to introduce yerself to yer one lad," Gearin told him firmly, "Especially if she's me daughter. At least your brother was better with her cousin." Thorin's eyes went wide and he looked at Gearin in utter betrayal, while Frerin's eyes went wide for an entirely different reason.
"Is he… did you… when did… how?" As amusing as it normally was to see Frerin flounder over his words, at that moment Thorin wanted nothing more than for his brother to be back in mountain.
"You had to say it," Thorin growled at Gearin while Frerin continued to sputter nonsensical words in the background.
"He'd have figured it out eventually," Gearin replied with a casual shrug and ignored Thorin's glare to return his focus to his smoldering pipe. Before Thorin could come up with another response, Thistle reappeared.
"Dinner's up," She said before turning her gaze to Ori, "time to wash up little one." Frerin perked up and jumped out of his chair.
"I'll get him," Frerin told her eagerly and nearly scrambled over to the young boy. Once Ori was in reach, Frerin bent down to pick up the toddler and immediately pulled back his hand with a yelp when he was rewarded with a harsh jab from a sharp knitting needle into the soft palm of his hand.
"No!" Ori told him with a fierce glare, "no, no no! Stop it!" Thorin of course did what any good brother would do in that situation, he fell off his chair laughing and only laughed harder when Ori crawled over to sit on him. Thistle and Gearin weren't much better, but Thistle at least went to check on Frerin's hand.
"What's going on here?" Bilbo asked as she entered the living room to see her son plopped down on her laughing boarder and a pouting dwarf she didn't know.
"Thorin's brother here tried to pick up Ori and the little one jabbed him with a needle," Gearin told her between gasps for air as he laughed. Bilbo rolled her eyes at her uncle and walked over to scoop up her squirmy son from where he was bouncing lightly on Thorin's back.
"Any damage?" she asked her cousin who was taking just a bit too long looking over a wholly enchanted Frerin's battle wound. Thistle glanced at her before quickly dropping the young dwarf's hand as if it had scalded her. She shook her head and disappeared back into the dinning room, leaving behind a very stunned Frerin. Gearin and Bilbo made their way after her, with Bilbo pausing to nudge a still snickering Thorin as she passed. The king downed king managed to roll to his feet to gather up his little brother who was still staring at his hand in amazement.
"Come on little brother," Thorin said as he slung an arm around Frerin's shoulders, "the food my One creates puts all other cooks to shame." Frerin managed to shake himself out of his stupor and stumble after his older brother.
"Does she know?" Frerin asked quietly, earning an inquisitive glance from his brother, "Ori's mother? Does she know she's your one?"
"No," Thorin told him, bringing the pair to a stop, "Nor does she know of our family's status."
"She will not hear it from me brother," Frerin assured him in the serious tone that was not often heard from him.
"You have my gratitude," Thorin told him, "Now let us see if we can win their hearts."
Thistle was setting the table while Bilbo got Ori settled into the wooden highchair he always ate from when the brothers entered the room. Thorin patted his brother on the shoulder once more before sliding in to his usual seat, next to Ori and across from Bilbo, leaving his brother to shift awkwardly as he waited for someone to tell him where to sit. He didn't have to wait long before Thistle snagged his tunic sleeve and led him over to the chair next to her.
Conversation was put aside as food was distributed around the table, and Thorin stopped Ori from smashing anything into his hair as was his favorite thing to do, until Frerin decided it was the proper time for him to attempt conversation with his One.
"I'm Frerin!" He said suddenly, making Thorin choke on the ale he'd just drank. Bilbo was next to the dwarf king quickly, pounding him on the back as his body did it's best to expel the fluid from his windpipe. Gearin's head hit the table with and audible thud and rocked back and forth as he shook his head, but Thistle seemed utterly unfazed.
"Pleasure to meet you," she told him as she continued to cut into the rosemary potatoes on her plate without looking up, leaving Frerin frowning at the lack of attention, "Would you pass me the bread please Papa?" Gearin fought back a wide grin at the expense of his future son-in-law and handed the basket of warm bread to his daughter. Bilbo stayed standing next to Thorin, who hadn't noticed that he still had a light hold of her outer skirt, but had turned her attention to helping her son eat. Frerin slumped in defeat and proceeded to push the food around on his plate, appetite suddenly gone.
"I take it you like children Master Frerin?" Thistle asked making the dwarf in question jump a bit and turn to stare at Thistle, "You seemed to expect Ori to be comfortable with you rather quickly."
"Uh… Yes?" Thorin shook his head at his brother's awkward response and wondered if he would ever get more nephews, or nieces, at with the way Frerin's attempted courting was going.
"You don't seem very sure," Thistle teased with a warm smile that brought a blush to Frerin's face.
"I do well enough with my nephews," Frerin told her before smiling a little self-consciously, "Though I am not around children that are not kin to me."
"Do you wish for some of your own?" Thistle asked as she served herself another serving of stew.
"Yes," Frerin answered quickly before blushing at his own eagerness, "Many, however we dwarves are not known for our fertility so I will have to be content if Mahal chooses to only bless me with one or two."
"Dwarves may not be known for their fertility," Thistle told him calmly, "But we dwabbits are. We'll have as many as we wish."
This time it was Frerin's turn to choke and a howling Gearin pounded him on the back happily, while Thorin collapsed back into his chair. A mildly shocked Bilbo absently wrapped a comforting arm around a chaotically laughing Thorin's shoulder as he shook his head in disbelief.
"What… how….," Frerin gave up and dropped his head to the table with a low, pained groan. Thistle sighed and pushed her chair back so she could walk over to Frerin. She bullied him into sitting back in his chair and slid into the stunned dwarf's lap.
"Were you planning on having children with someone other than your One?" she asked him, causing the dwarf's eyes to widen in shock. Thorin groaned in jealously at the knowledge that his little brother was going to get his One with such ease.
"You… how…," Frerin stumbled over his words, more than a little flustered by the fact that his One was perched contentedly on his knees, with her backside tantalizingly close to an area that's interest could prove a little too hard to disguise, "You know?"
"Did ya think you were the only one here who could tell?" Thistle snorted when Frerin hesitantly nodded after quick glance at his brother, "You're adorable." Frerin's blush intensified when Thistle dropped a quick kiss at the corner of Frerin's mouth.
"Welcome to the family lad's," Gearing chortled, earning an utterly lost look from Frerin and a half hearted glare from his daughter who refused to leave her One's lap, as well as Thorin who wasn't ready to reveal the truth to Bilbo, "and Mahal save you both!"