Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dwarves are practically infamously infertile. A bairn being born is a rare occurrence, and amongst those born, only 1 in 5 is born female. That is to say that a family with more than one child is exceedingly rare and highly valued. It is a great honor to have multiple children. It is unheard of for a dwarrowdam to have more than 3 children.

When Bella and Thorin married, they had no evidence that they would be able to have children. Who was to say that their species would mix? Thorin was unconcerned as it would not be unusual for a couple to have no children, and he already has heirs to succeed him. To Bella, however, this was an unacceptable outcome.

Hobbit homes are not complete without at least a few faunts running around. She herself was an oddity as an only child.

So Bella was bordering on smug 3 weeks after their official wedding when she cornered him.

“Thorin!” She yelled, pouncing on his back from the shadows of a corridor.

“Bella! Where are your guards?” He transferred her from his back into his arms, checking her over for injuries.

Bella shrugs in his arms and presses a kiss to his nose. Thorin sighs in defeat and internally debates whether it is worth the struggle to try another pair of guards. It’s not like any dwarf can truly get the drop on her, but as more dwarrow make their way to the lonely mountain, he would rather be safe than sorry.

“Did you have something to tell me, or do you just enjoy getting the jump on me?” He asks, lowering her to the ground.

“I do enjoy getting the jump on you, but also I have news.” She clasps her hands behind her back. “Can you guess what it is?”

“Likely not.” He crosses his arms.

“You’re not even going to try?” She raises a brow. “Fine, I’ll tell you anyway.”

She leans forward conspiratorially, waving him over. He lets out a low chuckle at his wife’s antics but leans down anyway.

“You, my dear King under the Mountain, are about to gain a new title?” She whispers in his ear.

He pulls away and looks down at her to see her beaming up at him.

“What have you overheard?” He knows her lightness of foot to be good for eavesdropping, but he didn’t expect her to find out something about him before he did.

“Not overheard. You, my dear, are going to forever more be known as Adad .” She turns on her heel and starts meandering away.

He takes a moment to process her words before rushing after her. He scoops her up in his arms, bringing them nose to nose. His eyes trail over her in his arms, and he can’t help the mad grin that spreads across his face.

“Could it truly be possible? Even with everything?” He whispers, awed.

“Yes. Thorin, I’m pregnant.” She smiles sweetly, pressing her forehead to his.

“It is a good omen for you to become pregnant so soon after the wedding.” He tells her.

“Oh, no. I was pregnant before the wedding.” She assures him, her face open and honest.

“What? How long have you been pregnant? We took precautions to prevent pregnancy before the wedding.” His brow furrows.

“Not when we bonded.” She reminds him. He takes a moment to process her words and do some mental math.

“But…but that means…” he sputters.

“I’ve been pregnant for 4 months, since that night at Beorn’s.” She cuts him off.

“But how? How could the bairn have survived all this time. You almost starved at least 3 times since then.” He cradles her face in one of his hands, still holding her weight in the other.

“Hobbits are known for having easy pregnancies. My mother was an outlier. Gandalf thinks that her issues came from a stab wound to the abdomen she sustained on one of her adventures with him.” She leans her head into his hand. “That’s likely why I lost so much weight during that time, my body was prioritizing the baby.”

“But that means…” he gasps, horrified. He wraps his second arm around her again, in a protective circle. As if his arms can keep away all the dangers she has already faced.

“I faced a dragon, Azog the defiler, and a war all while pregnant with a member of the line of Durin.” She smirks. “And you thought I wouldn’t be able to handle myself, I did all that carrying around another person.”

“I’m assigning you more guards,” Thorin grumbles. He starts walking down the way he was headed originally, with his wife still held in his arms.

“Good luck with that,” she chuckles, resting her head on his shoulder.

~~~~~~

“You need to lie down, lass,” Dwalin begs her.

“Do not tell me what to do!” She yells, continuing to pace around the room.

“Your body needs the rest.” The young dwarven healer by Oin’s side tries to reason with her.

“I’m sorry, are you the one with a babe inside you?” She snaps.

The two elvish healers in the corner seem content to watch the fighting.

“Oh, leave her be, she’s fine.” Primula Baggins groans from her place at the foot of the bed.

“She’ll need to save her strength for the rest of the labor.” The young healer persists.

Primula drops her head into her hands, groaning. Before he can give a retort, the door to the chambers slams open.

“I came as fast as I could.” Thorin pants, making his way over to Bella. “How are you doing, Ghivashel?”

He places a hand on her lower back and the other under her elbow, supporting some of her weight.

“I would be much better if some people,” she shoots a glare at the young healer. “Would stop trying to tell me what to do.”

“You will run out of energy before the bairn comes if you don’t rest now.” He asserts for the millionth time.

Primula roughly puts aside her knitting and stands up.

“Will you stop whining if I check her progress?” She demands.

He grumbles something unintelligible but doesn’t fight her on it. The two elves in the corner exchange amused glances. Thorin’s brow furrows, but he makes no comment.

“All right, Bella. Do you want to sit down, lie down, or squat?” Primula asks, walking over to the sink to wash her hands.

“I’m not getting on the bed.” Bella crosses her arms.

“Ok then. Standing or perched on a chair?” Primula makes her way over.

“I think I can perch on a chair.” Bella concedes.

“Thorin, bring over that stool. You can support her back. Hold her under the elbows like I taught you.” Primula kneels on the ground and makes her way under Bella’s skirts.

“Wouldn’t it be better to send the father out?” One of the elves asks.

“You would have me miss the birth of my own child?” Thorin growls, using his chest as a backrest for Bella.

“What use is he outside? At least in here, he can hold Bella. Honestly, I’ll never understand other cultures forcing their men out of the birthing chamber.” Primula scoffs. “She’s almost fully dilated. She has maybe another hour before the faunt will be with us.”

This causes the healers around the room to come to attention. Only 4 hours for a first-time birth? That was incredibly rare amongst elves and impossible for dwarves. Where before the room had been a relaxed sprawl of various races simply waiting for the right moment, now it was a flurry of movement.

“Really, the fact that you’ve lasted 3 hours is likely due to the fact that the faunt is half dwarf and it’s your first babe,” Primula muttered loud enough for the rest of the room to overhear.

“Do you need anything?” Thorin murmured into Bella’s ear.

“Why the hell are there so many people here again?” She turned her face up to his.

“Oin has been your healer throughout the pregnancy, you requested your cousin attend, and Lord Elrond sent some of his healers to escort her here.” Thorin reminds her, adjusting his grip under her elbows.

“And the idjit that’s nagging me?” She pointedly looks at Oin’s apprentice, who had been trying to get her to lie down.

“How was I to know the labor would be so short?” The young dwarf attempted to defend himself.

“He’s here to learn to not be an idjit.” Oin throws over his shoulder from where he is preparing some herbs.

She continues to glare at them as she rises from the stool and resumes her pacing with Thorin an ever present shadow by her side.

They finish another few circuits around the room when Oin hands her a mug of tea.

“This will help with the pain, now that you’re approaching the time to push.”

Bella grunts, taking the mug, slowly sipping at it as she continues to pace, rocking through her contractions.

The elvish healers, having been spurred to action by the news of the impending delivery, efficiently prepare linens and hot water.

Dwalin shifts in his position guarding the door.

“Yer maj, now that Thorin is here, would yeh like me to leave?” Dwalin gently asks from the door. The hulking dwarf is curled around his battle axe like a faunt’s blanket.

It’s a hilarious image coming from the normally stoic warrior. Who doesn’t blink in the face of the gore of battle or the scheming of politics, but flinches at a lass giving birth.

“No! You have to keep everyone annoying out.” Bella snaps as she rocks through another contraction.

Primula kneels under her legs, checking her process again.

“Then why did I let Thorin in?” Dwalin half-heartedly jokes.

“I’ll kick your hairy arse.” Thorin grumbles.

“We’re a bit busy.” Bella reminds.

One of the elven healers presses their hands to her stomach, feeling around for the babe.

“He’s turned well.” She reports. “And seems ready to join us.”

“Is it a boy?” Bella asks, bracing her arms on Thorin.

“We don’t know yet.” Primula drones, kneeling by Bella’s legs. Oin joins her on the other side with a fresh cloth in hand. The lad stands back watching the process.

“You don’t think I can give you a son?” Bella glowers into Thorin’s chest.

“I’ll be happy with anything, Amralime. As long as you’re both healthy.” Thorin whispers into her hair.

“I’ll give you a boy,” Bella vows, not out of any real need for a son, but out of spite.

Thorin is about to object, to cut off her line of thought, to do anything, but she starts pushing, and suddenly he’s focused on the more pressing matter at hand.

It’s only later, when his firstborn daughter is placed in his hands, that Thorin remembers his wife’s statement. He figures it was simply an adrenaline fueled wish.

He’s wrong.

——————

Thorin thinks he’s incredibly clever early in Bella’s pregnancy when he suggests that they name their girls after the hobbit custom and their boys after the Dwarrow tradition.

Girls are so rare that he would have naming rights for the one or two children they have. Anything to prevent their son from being named Bingo. Even if they manage to have a girl, the flower names are pretty.

He should have been suspicious of how quickly Bella agreed.

Chapter Text

Azalea is 6 months old when his wife corners him again. This time in their private dining room that’s only used by the company.

Their baby was stolen a few hours before by his sister and her sons. It had become a regular occurrence as Thorin and Bella have started running the kingdom again, though Bella is only doing paperwork.

She jumps onto his back. His arms wrap around her legs, supporting her weight as he continues moving about his business.

“Guess what?” Bella whispers in his ear.

“My lovely wife has slipped her guards again?” He glances over his shoulder at her.

“Trick question, they never found me to begin with?” She kisses his ear.

He scoffs. “Why do you insist on worrying me?”

“They’re boring.” She buries her face in his hair. “Guess again!”

“What is it, amralime?” He chuckles.

“We’re going to have a boy!” She murmurs seductively in his ear.

“Do you really want to stop drinking your tea so soon? You’ve only just had Azalea.” Thorin’s brow furrows.

“I never started it again.” Bella wiggles free from her position on his back. “Hobbits don’t start taking the tea again until they’re done having children. I won’t have it again until we decide we’re done.”

“Then what did you mean?” Thorin’s brow crinkles.

“Love, I’m already pregnant.” Bella runs a hand over her belly. “This time I’m sure it’s a boy.”

“Knowing Dwarrow, it likely is, but I’m happy with any children you give me. You don’t need to focus on the gender.” Thorin cradles her face in his palms. “I’m just happy to have them with you.”

“That’s very sweet, but you’re so insistent that boys are more common than lasses. So I’ve decided, once we have a boy, we’ll stop.”

“Then I shall be happy with our two babes.”

“We’ll see.”

——————

Bella waddles away from her two guards. At 7 of her 8 months pregnant, she’s simply too big to give them the slip, even with her little trinket.

They’d discovered with her last pregnancy that while Dwarrow carried 10 months, Hobbits normally only carried for 6. It had ended up somewhere in the middle at 8 months.

The first pregnancy, she’d relied on the element of surprise and the fact that generally Dwarrow are unfamiliar with hobbits, but over a year after the battle of Five Armies, there are enough Dwarrow in the mountain for Dwalin to specifically train a set of guards to watch her.

It wasn’t very successful, and they’d had no success when she was in the early months of this pregnancy.

The game changer came when Nori had had enough and stepped in to help with their training. Now it took her significantly longer to lose them.

She tries to slip into an alley and almost makes it when her increased waistline clips the corner of the wall, sending her sprawling onto the floor.

She’s quickly mobbed by worried Dwarrow. Not just her guards, but normal people too.

Many of them she’s met in passing, and a few she’s even had full conversations with, but none of them are truly familiar. That doesn’t stop their worrying.

Even those unfamiliar with her personally know her well as the Queen consort. Keeping in mind that there’s one full blooded hobbit in the mountain, and that she’s heavily pregnant, she’s very recognizable.

She resolutely puts up with the smothering worry of her husband’s people up until the moment when she is swept off her feet.

The guard whose arms she’s lofted into gives her a sheepish look, but no amount of glaring or light smacking will make him put her down.

The other guard clears the way, and she is carried away from the crowd and back into the royal quarters.

The smothering of her own Dwarrow is somehow worse than that of the general public, especially when it’s decided that Dori should spend time with her for a few days following the incident.

Don’t get her wrong, she loves all the members of the company. She’d have to after all they’ve been through together, but she’s about ready to pull their beards out by the time she escapes with just her guards again.

At least the guards leave her be for the most part.

She’s pregnant, not an invalid.

——————

Bella is positive she’ll never walk again. At eight and half months pregnant, she is ready for this baby boy to kindly vacate the premises.

It doesn’t help that she’d fractured her ankle two weeks ago when she’d tried to catch Azalea. The babe had rolled over and almost fallen off the couch.

She’d taken a running leap to get under the babe before she’d hit the stone floor. Miraculously she’d caught her. Unfortunately, she’d also slammed her foot into the stone edge of the couch.

Now, as she lies sprawled on their new wooden and cushioned couch, Azalea sleeping peacefully on her stomach, Bella wonders if she’ll ever truly get used to living under a mountain.

Sure, Thorin is slowly replacing parts of their rooms to better emulate the home she grew up in. But it feels like every time she turns a corner, she’s surprised that the couch base is stone or that the biggest stock pot in the palace kitchens is bigger than she is.

It’s all the things that her Dwarrow would never think to consider. Like that, pregnant hobbits don’t just lie around all day.

It makes her wonder what it'll be like for her children as they get older.

Azalea doesn't mind now, but what about when she gets older?

Will her Dwobbit blood estrange her from the rest of the mountain? What about when they visit the shire? Will she blend in with the hobbit babes? It's all too much to consider when Oin barges into her quarters.

"How's the young miss doing today, lass?” Oin asks.

“She’s fine, sleeping well.” Bella rubs a palm over her daughter’s back.

“That’s all well and good, but I meant you.” Oin levels a look at her, raising an eyebrow as he pulls up a stool to sit beside her.

“You do remember I’m married to your King, right?” She pushes up to sit up straighter.

“I also remember you telling a trio of trolls that we all had parasites.” He rumbles.

He reaches for her injured ankle and braces it in his lap. She huffs as he unwraps the brace, settling in as he palpates her joint. She tries not to cringe as his thumb presses against the break.

“I told you, Oin. It should only be another couple of weeks.” She assures him as he starts to re-wrap her foot. “You know we heal differently.”

“That’s what worries me, Lass.” Oin’s brow furrows. “With every injury, we’ll be going in blind.”

“We can always send for information from the Shire. Primula would be happy to put together medical texts for us.” She smiles at him.

“I’m not worried about Hobbits, Bella. I’m worried about the pebbles.” He reaches over to rest a hand on Azalea’s back. “They’re already different from each other. You’ve been pregnant a fortnight longer than last time. What if each of the babes is completely different? We won’t even be able to learn from experience. Every challenge will have to be tackled anew.”

“Oin.”

“The Bairn is already growing inconsistently. Some milestones are in line with hobbits, some for Dwarrow, while others don’t fit either.” Oin’s spiraling.

“Oin!”

“Will there be any consistencies between them? What can make them sick? How delicate are they? How…”

“OIN!” Bella finally cuts him off. His eyes snap to her, wild and scared. Azalea starts awake in her arms and looks at Bella. “We’ll take it as it comes.”

“But…” He tries to interrupt.

“Besides, we have bigger things to worry about right now.” She sits up holding Azalea to her chest, Oin’s brow furrows. “I do believe my contractions have started.”

Oin’s eyes bug out of his head. He leaps up and begins running around to prepare the room. Bella sighs fondly at the Dwarf. She cradles Azalea closer to her chest as the faunt reaches up to grab her hair.

“Are you ready to meet your little brother?” She presses a kiss to her daughter’s hair and waits for the chaos to truly begin.

It takes her 45 minutes to remember that Thorin is in Dale for a meeting with Bard. She’d been the one who’d bullied him into going…

Chapter Text

Thorin is working through a labor agreement with Bard in Dale. He’d tried to make a case for holding the meeting in Erebor, but the agreement was about using Dwarven labor to rebuild Dale.

All of this, unfortunately, means that the discussion needed to happen in Dale. They’d spent hours walking through the city along with Bofur and an architect from the Iron Hills. They’d had some agreements for preliminary work right after the Battle of Five Armies, but now that the city was no longer falling apart, they needed to focus on restoring it, both to its former glory and to a higher level of comfort.

They were going over the map of the city and reviewing the work that needed to be done when the runner sprinted into the room. The guards at the door block his entrance, but Thorin stiffens when he recognizes Bella’s page.

“What happened?” Thorin storms over to the door. The guards move out of the way, allowing the boy through.

“Your Majesty, the Queen is in Labor.” The page pants out. Having delivered his message, he doubles over, bracing his hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath.

Thorin freezes. He’d made the stupid decision of walking to Dale today. Bella had kicked him out of their rooms and seemed like she needed the space. He’d been trying to be a good partner. Now he was in Dale while she was in Labor.

(A small part of him thought any messenger would come on a mount he could steal. Unfortunately, Bella’s page came himself, and the lad is too young to ride.)

He glances over his shoulder at the King of Dale.

“What are you waiting for? Go. This can wait.” Bard waves him off.

“I walked here,” Thorin admits, putting aside that he’s exposing how much of an idiot he is.

“Come on.” Bard turns on his heel, making his way to the back door.

Bard leads him to the stables. He snatches the reins from a stable boy and guides the horse to a mounting block. Ordering the boy to saddle another horse, he shuffles Thorin over to the one at the block.

Thorin will not admit that he’s never ridden a horse. Pony’s? Yes. War Goats? Yes. A Mahal damned War-Pig? Regrettably yes. But never a horse.

But Thorin is nothing if not a king. He steps up onto the mountain block and looks at the far too long stirrups. He’s debating throwing himself onto the animal when Bard laces his fingers together and bends down to provide an extra step up for Thorin.

Thorin pauses. On one hand, they’re kings of their respective kingdoms. On the other hand, his wife is in Labor.

“We never speak of this again,” Thorin growls as he steps into Bard's hands and hefts his leg over the horse.

“On my honor.” Bard grouses as he adjusts the stirrups to Thorin’s legs.

The stable boy brings over another horse, and Thorin ignores how easily Bard swings into the saddle.

He doesn’t have time for this.

He takes hold of the reins and the two kings are off.

Thorin realizes on the ride that both of them are going to get chewed out by their head guards, but ultimately Dwalin will be too glad to see him, and Thorin didn’t ask Bard to tag along. So…not his problem.

They reach the gates, and Balin is waiting for him inside. Thorin jumps out of the saddle, lands wrong on his ankle, his knees buckle, and he rolls out of the fall in a move reminiscent of their encounter with the dragon.

He resists the urge to glare at everyone around him to ignore…all of that. He has more important things to do.

He starts off with Balin hot on his tail. It takes him a while to realize Bard is following as well.

It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that there are too many Mahal damned stairs to the Royal quarters.

Whoever thought it was a good idea to put his rooms so far from the entrance??

…

…

Don’t answer that.

As they progress further and further into the mountain, the twinge in Thorin’s ankle grows to an ache, then to a dull roar, then, all of a sudden, it turns white hot and Thorin misses a step.

He tumbles down a fair few steps before he catches himself. He stares down in horror at the limb that’s betrayed him. This will not do. It will not do!

“Are you alright, Laddie?” Balin holds out a hand to help him up. He takes it and staggers to his feet.

“Fine, we’ll deal with it once we’ve reached Billa.” He keeps going, now using Balin as a crutch.

If Bard is wearily walking behind them, watching out for another fall, that’s neither here nor there.

Eventually, they make it to his and Bella’s chambers. He barely knocks on the door before it’s wrenched open, and Dwalin is dragging him inside.

“If you ever leave me alone in this again, I’ll make you regret the day we took back this mountain,” Dwalin growls as he holds him up by his collar.

“You’re the one who insisted that the captain of the guard was necessary for the birth of any royal.” Thorin reminds his friend.

“I meant outside the door, ya blighter.” Dwalin hisses as he drops his king.

Thorin lands on what is becoming his bad foot, and crumbles to the ground. Dwalin raises a brow at him. At some point, Balin and Bard had followed him into the outer chamber of his quarters, and they jerk toward him till he waved them off.

“How long has Bella been in labor?” Thorin asks from the floor.

“She’s not.”

“What?!” Thorin gapes at his shield brother. “I broke my ankle for a false alarm?”

“You broke your ankle?”

“Thorin?” Bella calls for him from the other room, and it’s all he can do to pivot and crawl to her.

As he enters the room, he prepares to ask her what’s going on when he sees the bundle in her arms.

“Dwalin? I thought you said she wasn’t in labor.” Thorin calls over his shoulder.

“Right. Not anymore.” Dwalin replies.

Other members of the company are scattered around the room, but Thorin only has eyes for his wife and their new babe.

Thorin shuffles closer to her, doing his best not to look like an earthworm, and pulls himself up to perch on the bed beside her.

“Is this our little Therin?” He asks, moving to support her weight as he should have been the last few hours.

“Meet Briar.” Bella moves the babe closer to him.

“A girl? Really?” It’s like a miracle. To have two girls in a row. Especially within so little time of each other.

“She’s a beauty.” Bella runs a finger along the tuft of black hair on her daughter's tiny head.

Thorin cradles them both in his arms. His sister’s son brings in Azalea and together they introduce their firstborn to her new sister.

Azalea stares at Briar as the babe yawns.

“Bab,” Azalea states, pointing at Briar.

——————

“Yes, sweetling. The baby is your sister.” Bella tilts the babe toward Azalea. “You can feel her hair if you’re gentle.”

Thorin guides Azalea’s tiny fingers to brush against Briar’s barely there curls. Glancing up, Bella spots Fili and Kili hovering over Thorin’s shoulder. At the foot of the bed, Dis watches them with a small smile.

The Dam had acted as Oin’s second pair of hands during the birth, assisting and standing in when needed. She had knowledge from her own births, but beyond that, the Dam had done as she was asked and stood as a pillar of support.

But Bella saw now a glint in her eye as she watched them. A familiar passion that Bella had seen in the eyes of many of her Dwarrow as they did the things that called to their soul.

She would have to talk to Dis and Oin about sending her to the Shire to learn from the Hobbit midwives. The spread of knowledge could only benefit their peoples.

——————

Why is King Bard in her birthing chamber? And why is Thorin limping?

Needless to say she is less than pleased when Oin wraps up Thorin’s ankle while he’s checking hers.

She does her best not to hit Kili when he comments that the match.

——————

Thorin sits her down in the aftermath of the birth, between feedings and cleaning away the blood from her nether regions, he looks at her with worry. He puts the girls down for naps, limping the whole way, and settles Bella on their cushy couch.

“Amralime, my love, the light of my life.” Thorin takes both her hands in his.

“Yes, my dear?” She gives him a tired smile and tries to ignore how his brow pinches.

“I won’t question this…desire to keep trying for a son. But I ask that you allow yourself more time between pregnancies.” He rubs his thumbs over the backs of her hands.

“Hobbits have no problem keeping up with back-to-back pregnancies.” Bella reminds him, ducking her head to catch his eye.

“I know, but you must remember that the babes are half Dwarf too.” Thorin sighs. “We’ve been lucky with the first two, but more complications could come in the future if you don’t let your body heal first.”

She watches him for a long moment. He meets her gaze and holds it.

His face looks tired; they’ve had a rotation of night nurses since Azalea was only three weeks old. The stress over her looks to have aged him more than late nights with their babes and running a kingdom ever could. She reaches up and runs her fingers through his hair. There’s more silver in it than when they met.

“Alright.” She agrees. He sighs, relieved.

“If you’re feeling benevolent, you could stop running from your guards,” Thorin adds with a casual air.

“Don’t push it.” She gets up and goes to the kitchen to fix herself a cup of tea.

She does her best not to smirk at him as she walks on her injured foot, now almost completely healed, while his is fresh and being a pain.

Chapter Text

Walking through the markets of Erebor, Bella scowled at her guards. She contemplated giving them the slip but decided to wait. With Azalea on her back and Briar on her front, both secured with a long length of fabric, harsh movements were best avoided.

Besides that, the guards knew where she was going and would simply cut her off. One day, she’ll pay Nori back for training the guards. She was sure some of her followers were part of Nori’s spy network, mostly because she often saw the same rotation of Dwarrow hiding in the shadows when she was out and about.

Now that she’s in the market, many of the Dwarrow greet her, while the Dams stop to chat and coo over her babes. Azalea has long since fallen asleep behind her, but Briar is taking the opportunity to stare at her surroundings.

“Aren’t you worried about them slipping out of that fabric?” A nearby Dam asks as she waves at Briar.

“Not at all. Hobbits have wrapped our babes like this for generations.” Bella shows them how the fabric is tied. “It’s common to have multiple young babes at one time. So we wrap them in a few yards of well-woven fabric and get on our way.”

“But isn’t it harder raising babes so close together?” Another Dam with a toddler in her arms asks. “Usually we space out our births so the older children can watch the younger ones.”

“We use our communities. When they’re little, they’re in the wrap. But once they’re a little older, they spend much of their time with aunts or uncles or other mothers. At some point, there’s no difference between watching four faunts or ten, so we switch off who watches the children while the rest get things done.” Bella sits on the edge of a fountain as more Dams draw closer to listen to the conversation.

“We also have faunt gardens which are fenced in and allow the children to play together with one or two adults or older children watching them. It creates a safe space where they can explore without being underfoot.”

“What if someone attacks the garden?” A younger Dam raises her hand as if she were in a classroom. “To have them all together leaves them vulnerable.”

“I suppose Dwarrow would make such a place somewhere with high guard visibility or near where the warriors train. That would also allow mothers to drop off their babes before going to work. I was a minder for a few years as a tween, it's all good fun.”

Bella lost herself in the conversation with the Dams. She was only pulled out of it when Bofur came looking for her. He lightly scolded her as he pulled her away from the ladies. She waved goodbye and got back to her original task.

Later in the afternoon, Bilbo was having tea with Dori when she mentioned how she’d spoken with the Dams in the market earlier.

“It sounds like the Dam’s court of old,” Dori remarks, pouring himself another cup of tea.

“What’s that?” Bella asks.

“Mmm. The Dam’s court was a gathering place founded by Queen Nis the Second. It was a place for the Dams of the court to gather and do whatever it was Dams needed doing. I don’t know much, but I’m sure Thorin would let you reopen it.” Dori explained.

Bella thought about that and put it aside for later.

——————

“Thorin!” Bella jumps on her husband’s back. Bombur had taken both her girls for the evening to let them play with his pebbles.

“Fusak, Bella.” Thorin swears, reaching around to pull her around to his front.

“I have an idea.” Bella chirps as she wraps her arms around his neck.

“It’s only been three months since you gave birth to Briar.” Thorin scolds her, tilting his chin down to glare at her through his eyebrows.

“What?” Bella rears back. “No. No, I have a different idea.”

“I will indulge anything else your heart may desire.” Thorin moves to sit on their couch, settling her onto his lap.

“I want to rebuild the Dam’s court,” Bella tells him, watching his reaction out of the corner of her eye.

He blinks at her.

“That…I was not expecting.” He leans back. “What brought this on?”

She told him about her experience in the market and what little Dori had been able to tell her of the Dam’s court of old. He sat and thought on it for a few minutes before shrugging.

“I don’t see why not. It may even be good for the mountain.” Thorin approves.

Bella hugs her husband, and he carries her to bed.

——————

7 months later, Bella is standing in the hall designated as the Dam’s court. She’d demanded the entire hall be decked out in the comforts of home. This was not a place of smithing; it was for companionship.

With the help of an older Dam named Freya, she’d set up a Faunt Garden. It was filled with simple and colorful toys. Inside the protected area, 21-month-old Azalea and 10-month-old Briar played with other faunts their ages as a long-suffering tween sat in the corner and likely debated her life choices.

Bella sat in one of the clusters of couches and chairs near a fireplace with Freya and a young Dam named Nilin. There they sat watching Dams mill about and enjoy the new space.

“Do you feel clever, mam?” Nilin asks, drawing Bella’s attention.

“Whatever do you mean?” Bella cocks her head.

“Rebuilding the Dams court without even consulting the spymaster? It was a risky move; if we’d not already been watching out for you, someone could have come after you.” Nilin leans forward.

“I presume you’re one of Nori’s shadows.” Bella deduces, glancing at Freya out of the corner of her eye.

“Pleasure to officially meet you, Mam.” Nilin inclines her head. “Luckily, he’s taken no offence at the move.”

“Do you mean to tell me that the Dam’s court was once a spy network?” Bella doesn’t know why she’s surprised, knowing all that she does about Dwarrow.

“Of course it was.” Freya barks. “No one knows more than a Dam, and any Dam with any brains will make sure that what she knows can’t die with her.”

Nilin gestures at the older Dam as if to say, ‘I told you so.’

“This is meant to be a place of safety and community,” Bella argues.

“There’s nothing safer for a Dam than being in the know.” Nilin finally leans back. “Though I will say, the Pebble Mine is new.”

“The what?” Bella’s face scrunches up as she tries to figure out what the court has to do with mining.

“The pebble mine, with the littl’uns.” Nilin points at the Faunt garden.

“I suppose you could call it that.” Bella stares at the glorified giant playpen and wonders how these Dwarrow looked at that and thought of a mine. Dwarrow, she can live among them for years and still have no clue what they’re thinking.

“So, when will you tell his majesty?” Freya interrupts her thoughts.

“Of the Pebble mine?” Bella asks, furrowing her brow. Why would Thorin care what they call the play pen in the Dam’s court?

“Of the pebble in your forge.” Freya gestures to Bella’s stomach.

Bella stares at her for a moment. A pebble…in her forge…

The Dwarrow call faunts, pebbles, but what could her forge signify? She glances back down at where Freya gestured, and it hits her.

“Fusak,” She groans, dropping her head into her hands.

“I assume your husband taught you that one,” Nilin smirks at her.

“Dwalin, actually, but that’s not important. Thorin is going to be mightily cross with me.” Bella groans.

“What’s the worst he could do?” Nilin chuckles.

“Withhold sex?” Bella responds after a moment of pondering.

“Lass, if the king could withhold sex from you, yeh wouldn’t be pregnant, now would you?” Freya cackles at her as Bella drops her face back into her hands.

——————

“Okay, darling. You’re going to go in and beg Adad for a little brother.” Bella tries to coach Briar. The 10-month-old is quickly distracted by Bella’s hair.

Bella turns to Azalea with both of her hands held out toward her daughter.

The door to their quarters opens, and Thorin strides in with Dis and Fili behind him. Bella doesn’t want to think about what she must look like crouched in the middle of their living room with one faunt pulling on her hand and her arms out toward the other.

“Do you want some help there, IrakAmad?” Fili asks, one brow arching so far up, it looks like it’s trying to escape into his hairline.

“No, dear. I’m fine.” Bella stands up, doing her best to detach her youngest from her hair. “Dis, I didn’t know you were back.”

“Yes, and you went and established the Dam’s court without me.” Dis places a hand against her chest in faux sorrow. “I thought you were like the sister I never had.”

“Well, what if I wanted it set up before you arrived?” Bella mock-pouted.

“Then I guess you’ll still be my favorite sister.” Dis strides over to her and picks up each of her daughters in each arm. “Though it’s hard to choose my favorite niece.”

Thorin sidles up next to Bella, swooping over to steal Briar from Dis’s arms.

“Do I want to know how you ended up in such a…precarious situation?” He rumbles in that low baritone way he does that reminds her how she got pregant earlier than they agreed.

“I’ll tell you later,” Bella mutters as she stares at her husband.

“IrakAmad?” Fili prods her. “Are we still going to the feast hall for dinner?”

“Hm?” Bella snaps to attention. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

The Fili and Thorin chuckle as they move further into the suite. Dis just raises a brow at her. Bella moves one hand to her lower abdomen. There’s no bump yet, but with the training Dis underwent in the shire, combined with her own two pregnancies, she would understand.

And she did. The Dam’s eyes widen as she stares at her.

“How long?” Dis whispers.

“Barely more than a month,” Bella mutters back. “It’s far too early to be sure.”

“Not if you’ve already missed your monthlies.” Dis tilts her chin down and levels a conspiratory look at her. “Does Thorin know?”

“No.” Bella reaches out and takes her daughter from Dis. “The merchant brought the wrong tea last month. Took me a week to get it sorted. I’d planned to simply not sleep with him, but then he went out onto the mountainside to pick me wild flowers and…”

“Keeping in mind that I’ve no need to know the details of my brother’s sex life.” Dis interrupts.

“You’re a midwife now,” Bella smirks at her. “Get used to it.”

“How’re you goin ta tell him?” Dis rolls her eyes.

“I could always wait until we’re more sure…” Bella turns her face into her daughter’s hair.

Dis full body laughs at her, but when Fili and Thorin come back into the room, she doesn’t tell them anything of the prior discussion.

——————

Sitting in the Dam’s court with Dis and Nilin, Briar is sure it is illegal for them to pester her the way they are. Or it should be. As queen she shall make it so. But she would have to tell Thorin why she’s making this new law, which would defeat the purpose.

“You can’t think he’s that dumb, my dear.” Dis looks at her through her eyebrows.

“As yeh show more, the King is certain to notice the difference. It’s not your first pregnancy, he’ll know what it looks like.” Nilin gestures vaguely to Bella’s baby bump.

“I get it!” Bella snaps at the Dams. “I’ll tell him at dinner.”

“Tonight?” Dis raises a brow. “The company dinner tonight?”

“So?” Bella asks, voice pitching up far more than she would prefer.

“You’re going to tell the King, your husband, that you’re pregnant in front of a large group of Dwarrow.” Nilin crosses her arms and leans back into her chair.

“A large group of Dwarrow whom enjoy spoiling your current children, let alone a new one.” Dis adds.

Bella glances between the two Dams.

“Ah shit.” Bella huffs. “I could just jump him again.”

Nilin makes a face.

“Isn’t that how you announced the last two?” Dis smirks.

“Yes. And?” Bella crosses her arms and tries to ignore the beginnings of her baby bump. “It could be like tradition.”

“Or you could tell him like a normal person.” Nilin narrows her eyes, obviously lost on what they mean by “jump”.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Bella thinks about it. “I think I will tell him at dinner.”

Chapter Text

Bella hurries ahead of Dis to the dining room. The communal room that the company used for their weekly dinners was the original room where they had bedded down upon first retaking Erebor.

They’d eventually found a dining table that fit all of them and had moved it in once they all had quarters to themselves. With her children in Dis’s care and the Dam on her way to join Bombor’s brood, Bella was free to ditch her guards in peace.

Not that it was hard this early in the pregnancy.

She rounds the corner to the dining room when she runs face-first into a hard surface. Warm arms wrap around her, and she smiles, realizing just who she’s run into.

Looking up, she spots that blinding smile she so rarely sees. The one from the Carrock, from their bonding at Beorn's, from their Wedding day. She beams at him, and suddenly she can’t keep the news to herself.

“Love?” She asks, plain devotion in her voice.

“Ghivashel?” He moves one arm up to cradle her face.

“I’m pregnant,” Bella breathes.

“What?” His smile shifts to include the slightest furrow of his brows.

“What?” She does her best not to panic. This isn’t how he reacted the last times.

“Are you serious?” His voice, gentle as can be, makes her panic.

“Is that a problem?” She tries to back away from him, but his arms hold firm as his face grows serious.

“Why would it be a problem?” He asks.

“I don’t know. You aren’t scouping me into your arms and celebrating.” Bella tries to look away, but Thorin won’t let her.

“I am just as happy as last time.” Thorin cradles her face in both his hands. “But the message has been delivered in a very different manner than previously. It’s worrying.”

“I had planned something similar, but then I saw you, and you’re beautiful.” Bella glances down at his lips.

“Beautiful?” He half chuckles.

“Yes.” She replies, rather indignant. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met!”

“I assure you, my dear, by the standards of my own people, I am anything but.” He smiles ruefully.

“Then they’re all stone-headed fools.” She stretches up on her toes to press a gentle kiss to his lips. He shifts his arms to wrap around her waist and pulls her up to meet him more firmly.

They part gently, and Thorin presses his forehead against hers.

“How far along are you?”

“Three months.”

“Bella.” Thorin scolds.

Bella drops to her knees and slips past Thorin into the dining room, half cackling as she sprints away. Thorin thunders after her, quickly cornering her and scooping her up into his arms.

“What happened to taking your tea?” He jokingly growls into her neck.

“There was an order mix-up.” She full body laughs out loud as his beard scruffs along her neck.

“And you didn’t think to just not sleep with me?” He nuzzles her as he scolds her, half-spinning her around. She struggles uselessly to get away.

“Look at you! I couldn’t not sleep with you!” Bella flails wildly as Thorin starts to tickle her.

“Uhm, Hello! I would enjoy not being scared for life!” Kili yells as he walks in the door with his hands covering his eyes.

The company laughs as they trail in behind him. Thorin gives her a half-scolding look before putting her down and allowing them to join the group.

The fourteen of them eat and shmooze and generally enjoy being together in non-life-threatening situations. As the meal winds down, there’s a lull in the conversation.

“Dwalin, guess what?” Bella fills the gap.

“Aye?” He responds, raising a sardonic brow.

“If you don’t want to be on Labor guard duty, you’ll need to start training someone now.” Bella rests her chin in her palm with her elbow on the table.

Dwalin’s head smacks into the stone table. The thunk reverberates in the room in the moment it takes the rest of the company to process what she said. Then the room bursts into sound.

Turning to Thorin, Bella smirks at him.

“That’s how I was planning to tell you.”

Thorin’s head drops into his hands, and Bella beams at the chaos around her.

——————

Bella lies with her head pillowed on her husband’s bare chest. The exertion of the night combines with the warmth of his body to lull her into a comfortable doze.

Thorin’s arm shifts behind her, pulling her closer to him and bringing her closer to consciousness.

“Belladonna,” Thorin murmurs.

She hums at him as she buries her face in his chest.

“Amralime,” Thorin says a little louder, jostling her lightly.

She huffs and props her chin on his pec so she can look at him.

“About earlier,” Thorin cradles her face in his free hand. “I don’t want you hiding these things from me again.”

“You wanted to wait to have the next,” Bella mutters.

“Yes, that was the plan, but plans can change, and we can’t make a new plan if I don’t have all the information.” Thorin shifts his hand back into her hair and scratches her scalp.

“You’re the King. You have more important things to worry about.” Bella tries to blink away the mist in her eyes.

“Nothing is more important than my family, not even my kingdom.” Thorin smiles at her more with his eyes than his mouth. “I would rather abdicate than lose you.”

Bella loses her battle with her tear ducts and buries her face in Thorin’s chest as she cries. He wraps one arm around her back, holds her close, and the other cradles her head.

She feels so safe. Like nothing in the world could touch her. This dwarf would stand between her and anything.

Later, after calming down from the pregnancy hormone-induced waterworks, Bella dozes while Thorin caresses her mildly bulging belly.

——————

Bella watches as the Dams around her rearrange the furniture. There had been a consensus reached that there needed to be a larger conversation area surrounding the pregnant royal’s favorite armchair.

She hadn’t even gotten out of the chair. They’d simply lifted it with her still sitting in it.

Once settled, Bella found herself at the head of a ring of couches and armchairs with a slew of low cushions in the middle space. Nearly every spot was taken.

Now they were not all simply sitting around staring at the singular Hobbit. Many had started up smaller conversations with others sitting nearby. But they were configured in such a way that it felt more like one cohesive group.

It felt like all those days she’d spent on the road with the company. Well…except for the pregnancy…and the distinctly female make-up of the group. Which did mean she didn’t have to spend long, painful hours lecturing the entire group on basic things their mothers should have taught them…like hygiene.

Though that was mainly Kili.

A Dam is dropping off a tray of tea when Bella’s sensitive ears overhear a group of Dams gossiping about an incident in the market.

Bella looks to Nilin and gestures with her chin, in a move she’s seen Thorin use dozens of times. The Dam is quickly making her way over to the group and digging deeper into the information.

Bella turns to Dis on her other side to see the Dam giving her a strange look.

“What?” Bella raises a brow at her sister-in-law.

“Nothing. I’m simply watching the way you steer the entire mountain with a single gesture from the comfort of your chair.” Dis lowers her chin to look up at Bella with a knowing look.

Bella sputters and finds herself bereft of a response, so instead she turns the conversation to more familiar territory, family.

“You told me of your training, but not of my family. How do they fare?”

“Generally, well. Your uncle, that Thain, took great amusement in my stumbling through Shire society. Though he did let up for a few days after I saved your cousin from drowning in the river.” Dis stirred her tea absently as if she wasn’t dropping arda-shattering news.

“Drowning?!” Bella grips the arms of her chair, almost spilling her tea if not for a nearby Dam who scoops the vessel out of her hands.

All conversations stop as the Dams turn to their queen, curious at the outburst.

“Yes, didn’t I tell you? I was watching Primula’s bairn on the banks of the Brandywine while she and Drogo went for a boat ride. I’m enjoying my time with the babe when I hear yelling from the water.” Dis explains nonchalantly as if Bella isn’t having a crisis. “I wrapped the babe in my jacket and called out for another hobbit to watch him. Of course, I had no clue if any were close enough to hear, but that was rather beside the point.”

“Dis?” Bella grits out.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Get to the point.”

“Anyway, it turns out your cousin’s boat had struck a rock underwater and sprung a leak. I’d swum out to help save the boat, only to discover that neither of them could swim. Ended up having to abandon the boat to grab both of them and drag them to shore. I was rightly steaming when I found out they’d been out on the water knowing that neither of them could swim.” Dis finished.

Many of the dams around them were nodding along as if agreeing that that was the most important piece of information.

“Anyway,” Dis continued. “I spent the next month making the two of them learn to swim when we had time off from my own lessons. I do believe your cousin increased my workload in an attempt to escape swimming lessons, but she couldn’t escape me so easily.”

“But they’re both okay…Right?” Bella probed.

“Oh, of course. I’d never let anything happen to your family, especially for something as silly as not being able to swim. They’ll not make that mistake again, though I couldn’t manage to teach either of them any powerful strokes; they’ll certainly not be drowning anytime soon.” Dis took a cup of her tea.

“I’m surprised you managed to teach them to swim at all. Hobbits are notoriously bad swimmers on account of our feet.” Bella admitted, still stunned that she’d almost lost her dear cousin and would have been none the wiser.

“I’d think your stompers would make swimming easier.” A nearby Dam interjects as Dis sends Bella a suspicious look.

“Oh, no. They’re far too heavy for that. They drag us right to the bottom unless we spend all our strength treading water.” Bella held up her bare foot as if to demonstrate how heavy they were. “It’s the bones, you see. I’ve never heard of a hobbit breaking a bone in their foot.”

“You can, swim sister dear, right?” Dis eyes her.

“Enough to not drown.” Bella chuckles. “The company was furious after the river incident when I admitted I couldn’t swim. They put that to rights at the first available opportunity.”

“We’ll have to convince my brother to repair the public baths. They’re big enough to practice swimming in but warm enough to be comfortable.”

“By we, you mean me, don’t you?” Bella raises a brow.

“Of course, sister dear.”