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Thorin wrapped his arms around his son.
He smiled down at him, his chest swelled with pride as he glanced at his son sleeping features. So much like his Elf father and yet, the boy had Thorin’s dark hair and insistent nature. The baby was sucking on his thumb snuggling closer to his father’s warm.
Dís watched with a soft smiled as Thorin coddled his son. Holding him carefully while singing to him in Khuzdul; she glanced at the bed where Thranduil was sleeping peacefully and decided it was time for her to go and give the Royal family a private moment.
Thorin glanced back and saw the retreating form of Dís, then he turned to se Thranduil sleeping on the bed and he couldn’t help but smile.
“Your father was most scared when he found out about you.” Thorin told his sleeping son.
Thorin still remembered the time he found out about his son. He still felt the pain on his lip. Thranduil had been furious; he came straight at him and punched him in the face. Thorin had been dumbstruck, his lip bleeding while Thranduil scream at him calling him an immature, spoiled and rather fertile male that should keep it in his pants. Thorin had blushed and sputtered some nonsense as the Elven-King kept on screaming until it finally dawn on Thorin what had happened. Thorin stopped laughing when Thranduil’s fist collided with his face again.
He had not been laughing at Thranduil, actually he was laughing with happiness. He was going to be a dad! He was going to have a child! He, Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain, was going to have a child!
“I don’t know why he was so scared and emotional.” Thorin whispered to his son brushing his fingertips on the small nose of the baby. “You were the best thing to happen to me. To us. Our little miracle.”
Thorin remembered how he used to watch Thranduil from afar.
It had been a curious thing to see an Elf, the Elven-King, with a pregnant appearance. Thorin was the first one to notice the swollen belly; he would wrap his arms around Thranduil and noticed the bump there. Curious, he would turn Thranduil around and brushed his fingertips on top of the sensitive skin, placing kisses all over it with a soft smile and Thranduil’s fingers caressing his hair.
Later on, Thorin loved watching Thranduil caressing his swollen belly distractedly when speaking to his son, Legolas, or with Fíli and Kíli. He like watching those cold features softening when the Elven-King thought no one was looking. Or how he enjoyed the enthusiasm shown by Legolas, Fíli and Kíli to the baby’s kicking. Thorin would usually come at night, sat at Thranduil’s feet and press his head against the Elven-King’s abdomen. He would place his hand there, caressing the swollen belly carefully almost reverently while his lips twitched upwards every time he felt a kick.
“You were so strong and insistent, always moving around and paying attention to everything that was happening around.” Commented Thorin brushing his fingertip on the baby’s nose. Thorin recalled Kíli had been the same and he couldn’t help but think his son would be a handful in the near future.
But, honestly? Thorin didn’t care. His son was a miracle, something no one thought possible and some even scowled at the idea.
“You are ours.” Mumbled Thorin. “ I wonder what would you say to a baby brother or a baby sister?”
The baby scrunched up his nose stirring sleepily making Thorin chuckled, “You are right. We better share this idea with your father or else, I may found myself sleeping in the wild with a bruise lip. Again.”
Thorin turned around walking towards the bed. He observed the sleeping form of Thranduil before placing his son beside the Elven-King. Almost out of instinct, Thranduil wrapped a protective arm around the baby sighing happily. Thorin smiled caressing Thranduil’s features before changing clothes. He then climbed up his bed spooning Thranduil his arm caressing the now flat stomach of the Elf. Thorin closed his eyes placing a kiss on Thranduil’s neck wondering if Thranduil would be so oppose to have another baby. Thorin found himself missing the bump around Thranduil’s abdomen; then he smiled thinking on ways to convince Thranduil to carry more of his children.
The mere thought of a big family was well worth the bruise lip and the sleeping in the wild.