Saving Durin {Hobbit/Thorin}

Chapter 62: The newest weight-loss diet...giving birth

Thorin looks at me in compassion, grasping my hand tighter as the others attempt to hold back their laughter. It's true that I am usually volatile towards Thorin, but these last few minutes of aches and pains have heightened this inane attribute of our relationship. The King Under the Mountain seems prone to accept the blame and all the anger, knowing it's best to just comfort me in response.

"Okay, Erudian. It is time. Just give me a few strong pushes and you'll have your child in the blink of an eye," Lyn addresses me with a kind look that I could never muster in this moment. I give her a pointed glare over how easy and painless she infers this is to be, but I do as she says, nonetheless. Tauriel and Dis wait to Lyn's side, holding towels of acute fluffiness, as I follow the directions. Palo stands behind the older dwarrowdam, water in hand to clean the child.

And through the pain, and breaking of Thorin's hand within my grip, I hear the crying of a baby belonging to my own persona. It is not painless as Lyn supposed, but the child's voice makes the whole ordeal worthwhile. An inner instinct of mine awakens at the sound, tears forming in the corners of my eyes as the ladies clean my baby. All I can do is stare on in wonder, Thorin looking to do the same.

"Congratulations, brother...It's a boy," Dis addresses us, moving to hand the child to Thorin. However, the dwarf king gestures to hand me our child first, seeing as I am the one who underwent torture for its existence. But like I said, it's worth it as Dis presses the warm towels into my hand where a small child is bundled, fresh in the Mountain air.

Before I can look the boy over, he opens his eyes for the first time, taking in the light of his future kingdom home. Though it should not be a shock to me, I jump back at his crystal blue eyes that look upon me with innocence and love. Curly black hair coats the top of his head, his skin glowing pale in the new energy of the room. He is a captivating sight to be sure, strongly resembling his father.

"Oh Durin, he's another Thorin, blue eyes and stubborn," I address the whole group of them, never once taking my eyes off my child. It is a strange notion to be a mother, having never expected to even marry just two years ago. I had relinquished myself to a life of nunnery within Mordor, holding no hope in heart that I would even meet another man. Oh, what a wizard's visit can set into progression.

"Why are you so chatty? You just gave birth," Thorin asks, prompting me to move my eyes away from our child and to his father. The dwarf king looks at him in a state of wonder and awe, moving his fingers slowly to brush away a wet curl on the child's forehead.

"Well I did just miraculously lost ten pounds," I respond with a smirk that not even tremendous pain and joy can eradicate. With much regard to the child's frailty, I pass the bundled form into my husband's arms, who looks too astounded to even respond. Just as my inner motherly instincts took hold moments ago, Thorin looks changed within the presence of our child, a light of protection shining in his eyes. He holds the child close to his heart, cocooning him in his strong arms like how he holds me at night. I ask him the question that everyone must be thinking: "What should we call him?"

"Whatever you desire, my love," Thorin rakes his gaze away from our child and towards me, looking at me with a love unmatched to any before. "I am merely grateful to hold this child in my arms. My own child." I smile at him, pulling him by the forearm onto the bed and by my side, where I lean on his shoulder to look upon our child. He alternates his gaze between Thorin and myself, a small smile peeking at his lips as if he knows us to be his mother and father.

"Frerin, that will be his name. Frerin II Oakenshield, Prince of Erebor and son of Thorin," I answer my husband, looking to him and meeting his eyes. The dwarf king looks at me with an overwhelming sense of love and awe, as I remember and understand how much Thorin loved his brother. The King Under the Mountain shifts slightly to leave a lingering and soft kiss on my lips. I smile into the embrace, pulling away only as Frerin is placed into my arms.