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Chap Stick Pt 7

Alone at his desk with adorably wrinkled forehead on full display accentuating the dip between his brows Thranduil was found by you. Thorin and his family were practicing clan rites for another of Dain’s official’s who had just learned they were expecting a grandchild. Not very often you could manage to brush the cooking staff out of the way to surprise your husband.

Ten months already and into somewhat of a pattern your busy husbands managed to work private times alone with you while the three of you worked to get the newly joined kingdoms working into well oiled machines. These were also ten months of stares and conversations dropped when you entered the room not picked up again until after you had left. Glances in each fertility based holiday were meant to be restrained yet still landed on you. Stress clearly would have an effect and by the magical items you had made up for yourself they showed no hint for physical hindrance just leaving patience or a rigorous potion regimen that you had heard to be nearly debilitating for some while wildly successful and a breeze for others to tolerate. That was not an option you wanted to go for just yet and in an unspoken hopeful tracking of dates a spotty eighteen day lack of the usual cramps had you faking them to avoid sharing the nerves of the wait for another negative test.

Breakfast after a night in with Thorin the three nights prior ended the agreeable work and home cycle the Kings tried to keep to granting them both equal time with yourself and a spare night a week if you wished to be alone or to have them both in your company for a family night.

Dinner was what you hoped for to distract yourself and everything had gone perfectly so far up until the part where you had to get your husband’s butt in the seat beside yours. Narrow eyed you stared at him from the doorway a moment at notice of the same dead end stack of papers in the back of the library records room Legolas shared before that he used to distract himself from his own troubles. Exactly where you found him for the fifth time in the past two months and unlike the other times you crossed the room to his side. “Would you look at this,” you said parting his lips in shock at your arrival and for his frantic mental search for something to say to make up an excuse.

“You left a seat for me right here,” onto his lap you settled folding your legs to the side on top of his knee. Behind his neck your arms eased to a sighed, “Don’t let me disturb you.”

“I had plans to retire on time tonight. Even secured a thrush to come and remind me from staying past the sound of bells for the sealing of the East Gates.” He replied smoothly with eyes back on the pages hoping to complete his thought only to sigh at the tap of fingertips to the underside of his jaw. “Is there ink on my face again?”

“There’s certainly something here,” you said pressing your lips to his cheek that inched up at the first of a trio.

“You mean to distract me.”

“How long have you known me?” You asked widening his grin at his favorite argument of yours, “When have I ever deliberately set out to distract you from your work?”

“Deliberately?” he hummed back to the gentle press of lips to his ear that in the stroke of your chin up over his cheek his head turned to claim a kiss of his own wherever you allowed him to. Occasionally you would grant him a slower approach beginning with your nose or temple to work up to the eventual press of lips to yours, while others he would cave in and follow your direct lead for a yearning kiss.

Onto your cheek he smirked in the aftermath of the tap of his lips there and caught your gaze when you said, “Supper is in the oven. I made a pot roast.”

“I am nearly finished.”

“And I am merely here to keep you company.” That had him chortle disbelievingly and lift is brows at you.

“Company?” he asked.

“Company,” you replied and he dropped the papers in his hand on the desk to rest his arms around your lower back.

“You have my attention.” He hummed back at you.

“What I have is an empty seat at a table for two,” you said, “and time to spare I came to spend with you,” the final word you accented with a press of lips to his nose.

“I imagine you might be a good deal more comfortable in our apartment than down here in the records room.”

“Nice, quiet, surrounded by books. No one who would come all the way down here to drag you away. Cozy spot.”

“Now there it is,” he said with a wide smile, “What occasion have I missed? I am dreadful in notice of notes I leave myself you know this. I am terribly in your debt, kindly allow me to make this up to my slighted and oh so understanding beloved Queen.”

“There-,” he continued to talk and you smiled widening his smile as he continued, “Not going to stop talking?”

“I must beg for my Queen’s forgiveness. I have wronged her terribly.”

Off his lap you eased and his smile broke in shock to his body’s pull to ease up after you with hands already fixed onto your hips, “I am disturbing your work.”

“No, no,” he said in a scoop to lift you up with your legs pinned to his side and his head creeping closer to yours as he hummed, “I am severely in your debt.” Creeping closer still, “We shall return,” he continued a breath away from your lips for him to let out a puff of air in your subtle tease of a head bob back. “Home, my Love.” Briefly his lips tapped yours. Only triggering a fold of hands around his neck and cheeks for the touch starved melt of your forehead to his. “I am coming home, my Love.” Tenderly his forehead smoothed against yours in a move to land his nose against yours, “To savor your company and the supper to follow.”

Even blind he could have made his way back again and to the nestle of your head in the crook of his neck to steal peppered kisses there and along his jaw between guard posts. The proud King carried you home and safely on the ground again when your feet touched the ground he chuckled at the sudden release of all the buttons on his outer robe. “I’m a bit cold,” you teased guiding it off his shoulders that he promptly shifted to drape around your back in a move to sweep you off your feet again.

“Off the cold floor then,” he said tilting his head back adoring the feel of your hair around his face in this position where your legs could fold around his middle in a continued flinch at being lifted so fast so high. Lowly in the next kiss his hum vibrated against your lips in the blind path to the bed. What should be awkward was now familiar, down with hands on the back of his love to keep her close to his chest he would kneel on his bed to inch down for a knowingly safe plant of the pair onto the soft layers covering this bed he knew he’d hate to leave again. Somewhere on the foot of the bed to the locks clicking his crown landed after you had removed and tossed it safely away.

From his waist upwards his tunic was eased to be removed as well for nothing to separate the two of you on himself to savor the melt of your body around is urging him more onto your body beneath his. His silent permission to lay more weight across you when you felt safe to not press a still frightening button triggering one of those memories. Carefully Thranduil especially worked to not press them as he was closer to the menacing size your former captor was. Unintentionally those chains had rubbed a nerve raw that now was what he dared to hope scabbing over with new layers of skin on their way to being formed. He hoped to never trouble that again and gladly blind and in tune with the subtle hints for what you wanted he followed. No less pleased for what you wanted, more so in fact for it being exactly what you wanted and again in the aftermath of another successful lure of him to bed for an amorous break he laid still on top of you stroking his nose to yours.

Still you didn’t want to move after and in a low chuckle he hummed against your ear, “I am not moving anywhere, Love,” his hand down under the covers eased your leg back higher over his hip as if to let you go. Here was where he wanted to be anyways and here was where he could try to steal a moment or two of his own whims he knew you would agree to. Down your cheek to your jaw his nose slid and a smile split across his face in the accepting tilt of your head back welcoming a kiss to your neck. Frail gasps and a fold of legs around his back and just the once wasn’t enough and still inside you a second round was roused and ended again, though this time with you on his lap held firm to his chest panting in his arms. Underneath your bottom his legs folded to keep hold of you while his hands stole gentle strokes across your back through low hummed declarations of his adoration for you to coax out a weak chuckle that hinted you were calming down again.

More around his shoulders and down his back your hands eased to rest drawing unknown figures and words into the skin there in every inch of your head more towards his neck. Jokes and a gentle shift to ease out of you granted him a chance to move more and coax the pair of you back from this nerve riddled post coital pause. More than anything he wanted to be past this, but just wishing and waiting was not the best course. This painful topic had to be seen to the other side, even if an infant was required to be adopted should this trial drag on too long so that it began to wear their treasured wife frail and near to breaking. Occasionally Hobbits would fall pregnant and out of a call from Yavanna be shown the path of that child to a mother who could not carry them and be honored to do so. Surely the Valar would aid in the ease of this pain and possibly that path would be followed by a chance for you to be surprised by a pregnancy of your own when the stress had receded in comfort of a safe position of motherhood.

“You could have stayed,” you managed to say before his lips found yours again in his fold around you in a lean on your sides against the now nest of pillows.

“Nonsense.” He said and stole another kiss. “I am here, my Love. Right where I intend to be.”

Sweetly on his lips yours landed and for the few seconds the kiss lasted he leaned into it and met your gaze again that broke to the oven timer sounding. “The roast,” you said and eased out of bed and his arms for another grin worthy break of that frozen habit. Right behind you after a hop into his pants he watched you in your underwear and his shirt head for the kitchen. Food was yours to serve out onto the set table and wine was his to select and uncork for the pair of you with the less elegant but favored spiral branch stemmed wine glasses filled halfway and set at the two seats.

Another kiss was stolen and the food was sampled. Between bites however his eyes continued to dance over you in your downward glance at your plate. “Are you sore? I could give you a hot towel press after supper if you wished.” A sudden drop of a tear out of the corner of your eye to your lap had him shift his chair to be closer to yours so he could face you fully. “What can I do?”

To a shake of your head you caught his eye admitting, “I haven’t had my cramps,” just barely his head tilted to the side readying to ask what you answered for him. “In eighteen days.”

“Oh my Love,” he whispered painfully for how you must have been troubled in that time window keeping it to yourself. “On your own?” he managed to say.

“I know what the lemon puddings stand for at the Durin suppers. They’re praying for-,”

“For you,” he interrupted and cupped your cheek to the quiver of your lower lip. “Always for you. An ease of this burden and weight from your shoulders. No one is demanding a child, we would wait centuries never once demanding or expecting a result of our time together beyond your safety and comfort.��

“I can’t take the test.” You whispered in a broken plea for help with facing another negative result and continuation of this three century long battle you seemed trapped in.

“I’ll take a test too, we mix them up and we will never know the difference.”

“You don’t have a womb.”

“I could,” he said and you tilted your head with eyes still fixed on his. “We both take the test.” Timidly you nodded and with a stolen kiss he cradled your hands. Guiding you to the bath where you readied a pair of tests that in turns you collected the urine needed adding two drops of blood from a finger prick. When you stepped out of the room he shifted around as promised then for the wait with the timer he carried you back to the table to enjoy more of the wine to bites of the meal he fed to the both of you picking up right where he left off in the conversation prior to your shift in mood.

“One of us is clearly with child,” he said and let out a sigh propping his hands on his hips, “Now we have to go and confuse our Little Leaf.”

Quickly you drew in a burst of air into your lungs and looked up at him unable to speak only for him to lift you in his arms for a tight hug. “He is old enough, even if I am with child he will understand and support us.” Your bump of a kick to his leg beneath his knee had him chuckle and steal a kiss on your cheek. “I shall inform the cooks to ban lemon puddings at our table,” he teased and in the lift of your head watched your tearful face come into view then go blurry in a tap of your foreheads together. “I suppose this means my dangling you upside down worked then last month?” he asked finally getting a sniffle chased chuckle from you breaking your silence.

Into a comfortable dress while he donned a new robe the walk to the hall where Thorin and the Durins were gathered was found and waited outside of for the brief wait until the hour mark he said he would return at when the doors opened. Behind your wide eyed husband his family fanned out in his asking, “Kurkarukê?”

Between you and Thranduil your hand gestured widening his proud smile as you said, “One of us is pregnant.”

Thorin looked between you both and Thranduil explained, “The pair of us took a test that I mixed up the original order and one of us is indeed pregnant.” Hands behind Thorin’s back through his family gripped outer layers to the Durin clan’s try to not explode with glee and frighten you entirely. “And respectfully lemon puddings are banned from clan meals for a season, minimum.”

“Kurkarukê,” Thorin hummed closing the distance to rest his forehead to yours in a body enveloping hug you buried yourself into his chest for the elated moment.

“Can you get pregnant?” Kili asked Thranduil who caught his gaze that snapped from you in ease at the welcome of the awkward admission sprung on him outside of proper Dwarven traditional means to not have to wait anymore.

“I have yet to fall pregnant, however Yavanna is known for her mysterious ways. One day perhaps, only she would know for certain.”

Fili said, “Maybe you can get pregnant next time. We are pulling for auntie this time.” Thranduil gave an agreeing nod pleased at least they didn’t seem offended by the teasing suggestions for the tests that clearly had clamed you down for them to begin to celebrate.

Large celebratory breakfast was penned on the mind of every Durin while the elated Princes of both kingdoms spread the news of the incoming need to ready for their expecting Queen. Until you began to show how far you were along was a mystery but nice and gentle both kingdoms readied to ease through the rites expected for one of your rank and newfound status while accommodating any space you might require. Food most certainly was taken to be guessed for a spot of worry and cooks readied to partake in the strictest of rules you would dish out for them to meet the task and earn trust everyone in both kingdoms were here to protect you and however many bundles of bliss you might be carrying.

…

“Tiger?” Kili asked noticing you with a woven nest of branches and long blades of grass strolling through the Dwarf markets turning your head.

Before he could ask what you were up to you explained, “I need to sneeze.”

“Oh,” him and Fili said and the latter pointed to a stand of herbs they pointed to, “You should try herbs!” He said guiding you over to collect a few samples of things in small pouches of rice paper twisted closed with twine they held for you along with the other things to hopefully help you with your required sneeze.

The spread however had Thorin at the table on his way to the kitchen pause to rumble, “What are you trying to explode this time?”

“Tiger needs to sneeze,” they both stated in an offended tone and Fili lifted one of the open rice paper pouches. “Lick your finger tap it in this then touch it to the roof of your mouth.”

“Ok,” you said timidly doing as he said without result beyond a grimace from the taste narrowing their eyes to have them move that aside as you adjusted your palms underneath the nest Thorin inches closer to inspect the inside of it. “Egg check,” you said to Thorin only confusing him more to what that meant.

Seven more tries of herbs, spices, oils ended in a try to simply stroke some tassels against your nose that only had you chuckle and flinch your face away at its unsuccessful results. A simple trip from Thorin into the pantry however had him return with a jar that he uncovered and wafted his hand your way that instantly had your eyes squint in a try not to let them water. An itch spread from your throat up that had you coughing reflexively five tines growing in frequency until when he capped the jar again the boys with hands fixed on their noses and mouths watched your loud sneeze in a jerk of your head to the side to not sneeze on your husband.

Flames bursting unexpectedly to life about had Thorin drop the jar he cradled to his chest from shock while the boys jumped back when the burst of crackles and heat encased the nest in your hands. Just a few seconds the flames lingered and dwindled to a crackle of the burnt branches and remnants of the grass left behind to hold a colorful ceramic egg that lured the trio closer to get a closer look.

“I need a hammer,” you said with a smile and Thorin set the jar down to timidly go and fetch the hammer he held close to his chest to watch you settle the nest on the table and keep hold of the egg in your palm. “Shouldn’t take too much of a tap to split open.”

“We break it?” He asked and you blinked looking over his face.

“How else would we know how many cradles to build?”

“This is to number bairns in the womb?” He asked in shock at the meaning of this moment.

“All our women in my clan use this method. How do your mothers learn who to expect in labor?”

“We, are surprised usually. Beyond a larger amount of kicks impossible from one bairn alone.” He replied now some of the questions you had for Dis’ labor to her twin girls you had come from minding to allow her a morning off to get a massage with Vili.

“Oh, we don’t have to break it,” you said looking at the egg, “Normally we hang the totems to aid in warding off bad omens by letting them dance on the breeze. Though it is not mandatory,”

His hand engulfed yours to raise it higher in its momentary sink lower, “Just a tap?” He asked and you nodded. “This is a tradition of your kin, we will honor it. Should we send for Thranduil?”

“He is across a stream, that would be bad luck.”

“Ah, we shall inform him afterwards then.” He said with a grin and rested his palm underneath yours to support it in the lift of the hammer more for pounding steaks into the ground than this work he ever so gently gave a testing tap to the top of the egg that in its pull back revealed a small crater of a crack from the pressure buckling the shape. Relief washed over him that he didn’t have to hit it barely at all and risk harming your hand and to a second tap there was a hole he could watch you dip your thinner fingers inside to bring out the pair of gem formed ravens in flight parting his lips at the alternating colors of yellow and mint.

“Are the colors significant?”

“The yellow arrives first.” You said and let the pair settle in your palm only to watch them begin to let off pulses of light from their bellies outwards luring the trio in closer. “Their heartbeats,” you said to the wither of the egg that faded to two braided strands to hang the pair from that they gladly led you out to your Hobbit lands to find the best place in the tree over your home to hang them to catch the breeze. Word spread on the way however had a crowd of others there to watch them begin to float in gentle sways and bobs when the perfect spot was finally found. Hands even blind you could source had your husbands stroking your arms and in turns your barely puffed out belly with tearful stares to their sons Legolas and Thor halfway to bets on if they were going to have a brothers, sisters or one of each that had the whole clan and the Elf Lords that arrived in the spur group celebratory dinner.

Poison was the last of your worries and far more calm than others had anticipated instinct had kicked in and with the kingdoms behind offering safety and comfort even few scream and tear laced nightmares disturbed the sleep of others who raced to confirm your husbands and family was there to comfort those terrors away. Now today this was a whole other dilemma.

Today a tradition was to be had for your clan, one of the few that had been shared both your husbands agreed to honor publicly. Your twins had taken their first steps and were talkative as mocking birds. So today all animal guides must be displayed. And in matching bird full body costumes with beaks open around your heads you had made revealing the face markings of your clan as well they joined you in adorably marked colorings to match their personalities. While Thorin cleared his throat quietly in his own Ram costume next to Thor in his goat costume as Thranduil adjusted the ears on his fox suit to match his son’s.

Radagast fully versed in the steps required stood as master of the ceremony for his link to animals of this continent and did his best to not respond to the curious twins comparing the feel of the real feather, fur and wool costumes on their family including playful tug on the tails attached. Their favorite being Thranduil’s silver fox fur tail they loved to hide under and rarely let go of unless to dart to your feathered tail and then back to Legolas’ silver and black colored tail.

Chants, songs and tales of old including Beorn and the few other skin changers that had been found hidden in other distant woods came to honor this occasion and claim their chairs at the tables for the feast after.

All seriousness broke however at Dis’ sons and their cousins who in straight faces approached their parents that in their own tries at your curious pregnancy test to say, “One of us has fallen pregnant.” Laughter burst out and when all ends of possibility had been tested and weighed the boys were in the clear.

Though there was nothing clear about the evening as in a try to lighten the mood an explosion of fireworks began what would be a starless night for a light display beyond compare from Gandalf that had been planning this since he had first heard the news eventually lulling your twins off to colorful dreams in their fathers’ arms while you tended to helping Thor work a new bead he had made in his small tuft of a beard to match the arrow shaped ones he made you had woven into braids around Legolas’ ears.

All –

@sherala007, @mariannetora, @jesgisborne, @knitastically, @catthefearless, @theincaprincess, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000, @alishlieb,

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim, @jotink78, @pastelhexmaniac

X Thranduil - @evyiione, @sweetlytenacious25, @tigereyesf, @pastelhexmaniac,

x Thorin – @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @queenoferebor

Chap Stick - @tateright, @letsbeinspiredby, @pineapple-banana-pie

#Thorin x oc x Thranduil #Happy Ending #Expanding Family #Culture Clash #Sharing Traditions #The Hobbit #Fili and Kili

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