AN: I don't own any of the hobbit characters I am just taking them out of Tolkien's toy box and playing with them.
Okay please don't kill me for the last chapter I honestly have no idea where it actually came from, I was all set for a fluff filled, steamy chapter and bam Bilbo and Dwalin happened. I am so sorry. : (.
FanFiction Queen: I don't think he'll listen to that one again, I may have destroyed it. You need to see someone about this addiction to caramel, honestly. Really what? If it was about last chapter yes you really did read that and yes I really did write that. It gave me great pain and I am still pouting…and I wrote it. Assassin should know by now I don't respond well to orders, bribery or threats work well though. I don't like torturing Bilbo it just happens. And here is your update.
Chapter Thirty Five – Misunderstandings.
Dwalin stayed frozen in the same position for several long moments as his brain failed to process just what had happened. He blinked once slowly, feeling the sting of tears on his eyes before they flew wide in understanding and horror. Pushing to his feet he raced from the room after the running hobbit, sending an unsteady Nori into a wall as he brushed passed him. Ignoring his brother's shouts Dwalin ran through the halls of Rivendell following the direction Bilbo had been heading and praying the hobbit hadn't changed direction. He didn't know why Bilbo had jumped to the conclusion that he was disgusted by his scars but he could let the hobbit go on thinking that. His bare feet hit a gravel path lined by wispy silver birches, yet his mind barely registered the sting of the sharp stones cutting into his soles. At the end of the avenue was a circular pond and several other paths leading from it, after stopping himself from landing face first in the pond Dwalin gazed helplessly at the different exits and clenched his hands into his hair. He tried to calm himself and think logically by closing his eyes and taking steadying breaths. All that told his frantic brain was that Bilbo wasn't near him, there was no smell of lavender or sandal wood and Dwalin could feel himself starting to shake with worry, upset and a hint of anger.
Telling himself that Bilbo would have had valid reasons for reacting the way he did helped calm the anger somewhat but did nothing for his worry and upset. He paced unable to decide which path to take, the soft morning light and chirping birds did little to raise his spirits. While the choice of paths seemed to mock him in that moment, it was a well-known fact that dwarves were notoriously bad at directions when they were above ground and to have so many options facing him and with the probability of picking the wrong one had Dwalin on edge. He sank onto the raised stone running around the edge of the pool and hung his head, he wanted to find Bilbo and attempt to explain, but it seemed like he couldn't even do that right. He closed his eyes as he realised that even if he found his hobbit then he had to find the right words to get his point across. He had never been good at expressing his thoughts and feelings, and to have his future with Bilbo resting on actually being able to do so articulately was terrifying but made him all the more determined to do it.
He pushed from the ledge and forced his shoulders back, focusing completely on what he knew of Bilbo. The hobbit liked nature, liked bright flowers but also liked the quiet. Logically he wouldn't have gone far without a shirt, and in his upset state he was likely to have gone somewhere unfrequented by many people. Dwalin nodded as he studied the paths, his eyes narrowing as they landed on one that actually seemed to have leaf litter and moss on it. Deciding to trust his instincts he started for the path and passed under the arch of birch branches onto it fully. It was cool in the shade of the trees and quieter as well. His ears picked up a muffled sob from the end of the path and he unconsciously sped up.
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Bilbo had ran until he was sure the dwarves wouldn't be able to hear him, when he couldn't take it any longer he curled up and pressed his face into his knees, wrapping his arms tightly around himself in a desperate attempt to stop the shaking. He wondered how he could have been so stupid to have forgotten he was shirtless around Dwalin. How he could have been so stupid as to let the dwarf see his scars, after the responses he had gotten time and time again he should have known better. Now he had lost the one person who he had let himself start to love since the death of his parents. His body shook with the force of his supressed sobs as he wondered why the reaction should have hurt so much coming from Dwalin, he was used to the revulsion and the disgust. He was used to hobbits being unable to look at the marks let alone bring themselves to touch them. He was used to harsh remarks about him being damaged goods, only good for a tumble with the lights off. So why Dwalin's simple remark and recoil had hurt him so he couldn't figure. His brain was desperately trying to insert some logic into his thoughts, but for the second time since he had met the company Bilbo's walls had crashed around him and this time he had no family to help him rebuild them. His defences were shattered and he didn't have the strength to rebuild them. He curled further into a ball, finally letting himself sob without restraint.
Hard arms were suddenly around his shoulder as he was crushed into a muscled chest and soothing hands were running over his skin. Too far gone to care who was comforting him Bilbo turned his face into the chest and sobbed, mourning for what he suspected could have been the only true love of his life.
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Dwalin had frozen upon seeing Bilbo's crumpled form before his instincts took over. He offered any and all comfort he could to the distraught hobbit, shaking slightly himself as he heard the pain behind the sobs. He still didn't know how he was going to fix this but he wanted to kill whoever had caused Bilbo's reaction to people seeing his scars to automatically think they were disgusted. He rubbed soothing circles on the bare skin of Bilbo's back, careless whether his hands brushed over the scaring or not, as he remembered it had helped ground him when he had almost lost his composure at Bag End.
After what seemed like an age the sobs dwindled, and the shaking lessened slightly. Dwalin didn't let his hold loosen any, instead made himself more comfortable on the damp moss covered ground and tucked Bilbo more securely against his chest. He had decided he could deal with Bilbo's anger, having the hobbit angry because of him was nothing compared to having him upset because of him. Without him realising his callused hands had gone from rubbing soothing circles onto Bilbo's pack to tracing the runes for protection and healing on the soft skin. Dipping his head Dwalin pressed his face into soft curls, inhaling the heady scent for what he hoped was not the last time.
He knew when Bilbo realised it was him as the smaller male suddenly began fighting to get out of his grip. He didn't loosen his arms, determined not to let the hobbit run before he had at least tried to make his point.
"I don't think they are disgusting Bilbo," he rumbled, and to his surprise the hobbit stilled, fists still balled up but now resting against his chest. Dwalin splayed his fingers over Bilbo's bare back realising the smaller male was waiting for him to keep talking. Dwalin bit his lip momentarily as he sought for the right words. "I didn't react the way I did out of disgust of your scars Bilbo," he paused and reluctantly moving one of his hands tilted Bilbo's chin so he could see his face and the hobbit could see the honesty in his own eyes. Green-hazel eyes searched his face desperately and Dwalin could see Bilbo was torn between wanting to believe him and mistrust that this was all a trick.
Wondering just what he could say to convince his One an idea suddenly hit Dwalin and he pushed to his feet still holding Bilbo to his chest, before letting the smaller male's feet touch the ground. He cautiously dipped his head and pressed a chaste kiss to worry bitten lips, before using his thumb to swipe away a tear. Bilbo merely held completely still and watched his every move. Growling silently and swearing revenge on whoever had caused this self-doubt Dwalin took a step back from Bilbo raising a hand when the hobbit went to speak.
"Just … watch!" he almost begged, before pulling his shirt over his head without bothering undoing the laces. He watched the doubt and mistrust start to fade from Bilbo's eyes as the hobbit took in the multitude of scars criss-crossing across his own skin. Without speaking Dwalin reached out and grabbed one of Bilbo's hands and slowly brought the fingers to his bare skin. He had to press the more delicate hand against his abdomen before Bilbo caught on that it was okay. Dwalin gasped as feather light touches traced the silver lines of his older scaring, Bilbo was tracing the lines as if the healed wounds could still hurt him.
There was still unsurety on the tear stained face and Dwalin wished he was good with words, wished he was like his brother who could talk himself out of any situation, or more like Kili who could charm the birds from the trees with his patter. But he wasn't. He was Dwalin, a warrior, a dwarf of action not a words smith or a diplomat. His hand closed once again on Bilbo's as an idea occurred to him, going on a whim and ignoring Bilbo's questioning yelp he ran his callused fingers up Bilbo's bare arm as he walked to stand behind the hobbit.
His fingers shaking again Dwalin brushed them gently across the surface of one of the fresh looking scars. "I don't find these disgusting Bilbo," he whispered ghosting his breath other the skin of the shoulder in front of him. The muscles under the skin were still tense and Bilbo's breathing was still catching on a sob so Dwalin drew his fingers down the full length of one of the scars, before dropping to his knees behind Bilbo. "I find them fascinating," he breathed over the scars themselves, moving his hand to trace the edges of the worst looking one. "They show me you were brave," his next move took him by surprise as he leant forward and placed a kiss on the top of the three scars. "They show me you have so much strength to be able to live through what could cause them," deciding it may make his point Dwalin dropped a kiss to the second scar, while tracing the last of them. "I do not find them disgusting Bilbo, I am not repulsed by them," he dropped a kiss to the final scar and stayed kneeling behind the now ridged smaller male and dropped his head into the small of the hobbit's back. "Can you forgive me for making you think that?" he whispered against the bare skin.
Dwalin whimpered as Bilbo pulled away from him, wondering just what else he could do and say to convince the hobbit that he was serious. He shut his eyes and let his head drop lower as he tried to disguise his pain and worry. A soft hand on his cheek made him snap his head up and he found himself gazing into confused and worried green-hazel eyes.
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Bilbo had frozen as Dwalin moved behind him. He wanted desperately to run so that the dwarf wouldn't get another look at the scars, but a shaking hand on his shoulder stopped him, along with his brain finally catching up. Dwalin had scars that he wasn't ashamed of. The dwarf had said he didn't find the scars on Bilbo's back disgusting. Bilbo didn't find the scars that Dwalin supported disgusting or repulsive in fact he thought they made the dwarf even more desirable. Then Dwalin's fingers and lips were on those scars and Bilbo stopped thinking. He was so shocked that he nearly missed the words Dwalin was whispering against his skin. He pulled away at Dwalin's question, shame flooding him as he realised he'd lumped the dwarf in the same group as others who had seen his skin, judged him on what he expected to happen rather than what had probably happened. A whimper from the dwarf behind him had him swinging around and resting a gentle hand on the bearded cheek.
"I don't understand Dwalin," his voice came out as a whisper and Bilbo winced, wishing he could have sounded less weak in that moment. "I don't…" he took a deep breath and dropped to his knees so he was roughly on eye level with the dwarf, his hand never leaving Dwalin's cheek. "If you truly meant that Dwalin there is nothing to forgive because no offense was meant. I don't understand why…I…dammit I can't put this into words." The last part was muttered and as he closed his eyes he felt Dwalin wrap a callused hand around the wrist of the hand he was resting on the dwarf's face.
"You don't understand why they only add to your draw Bilbo!" his eyes shot open and he gaped at Dwalin.
"What?" he whispered, not fully understanding.
"You don't understand how they don't make you less perfect in my eyes. You don't understand how I can dare to look at them, touch them, kiss them. They are not disgusting Bilbo Baggins! Whoever has made you feel so in the past were cowards and liars. They make you more beautiful. They show that you have survived, that you weren't beaten, that you chose to live! You survived and you didn't let it taint who you are. Scars are not imperfections Bilbo. They are a map of your past, they should be worn with pride." Bilbo swallowed as Dwalin's voice dipped, becoming chocolate coated as the dwarf continued. "I can't blame you for your reaction to my reaction."
Dwalin's free hand grasped Bilbo's waist, tugging him steadily forward so they were kneeling with their knees touching, "You will never have to fear that reaction from me though Bilbo."
He ducked his head trying desperately to see Dwalin's eyes, and gasped as he saw the blaze of emotion in the normally calm grey. "Dwalin?" he whispered, "Can you forgive me for judging you?"
"I've just told you that I do and that there never was anything to forgive," Bilbo flinched at the raised tone Dwalin started with, before leaning in as the deep voice quietened. His eyes widened as Dwalin leant forward and rested his forehead on Bilbo's.
"I seem to have become addicted to having you around and not upset with me Bilbo." Muttered Dwalin that as close as they were and as good as Bilbo's hearing was that he struggled to hear, "Please don't leave me."
Fresh tears sprung to his eyes at Dwalin's admition but he barely wasted a second's thought for them. "Oh Yvanna Dwalin, I don't think I could if I wanted to. You have ensnared me my dear dwarf. Even as upset as I just was I wouldn't have been able to stay away from you long." His breath brushed Dwalin's lips and he held the grey gaze.
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"Bilbo!" breathed Dwalin, suddenly understanding the situation much better, "Miz vaen, bravaz andr aalv." He was gasping for breath now the emotions starting to well up on him, on top of everything he was currently feeling the sensation of Bilbo's warm breath against his lips brought back memories of his dream. "Holdd miz?" he almost begged, his brain too far gone to manage the common tongue and hoping Bilbo would understand what he was asking.
Warm arms hesitantly slipped around his shoulders and as their bare chests touched he barely registered the sense of loss of the hand moving off his face. Clever fingers wound into his hair, " miz duzkak," whispered Bilbo against his lips before pressing his own warm and pliable against them.
Dwalin filed away that Bilbo had understood and spoken verbal Khudzul before he gave himself into the feeling of the loving kiss.
AN: Please let me know what you think.
"Miz vaen, bravaz andr aalv. = My beautiful, brave other half.
Holdd miz? = hold me?
miz Duzkak = my love.