Warning: graphic sexual content up ahead.

Bilba liked the dragonlings. Amaryllis was the best little sister a hobbit could have. Her clutch brothers were a pair of bratty mischief-makers, so very like her Took cousins. The youngest two, Astra and Hadrian were the sweetest, cutest little things, fauntlings with no real malice, just pure love and a thick streak of curiosity.

Hermione and Smaug were good parents, they were firm setting boundaries but allowed their children to explore and go off on their own, very much like Bilba's own parents had done when she was younger. Smaug still scared her a bit, very much like some of her sterner Baggins relatives, but she no longer feared he would kill her.

Bilba had grown to look forward to elevensies and lunch with Amaryllis and Hermione. It was a welcome break from gardening, an opportunity to relax and chat about everything and nothing. Amaryllis and Hermione were quite frank, almost scandalously so, but never in a hurtful way. They made Bilba laugh and feel comfortable in her skin.

"I really like Legolas, but not that much," Amaryllis confessed as she sipped a cup of orange juice squeezed from oranges grown in Hermione's greenhouse. And what a marvellous structure! A creation of wood, metal and glass that allowed Hermione to grow plants all year in the cooler peaks of a mountain range.

Bilba wasn't sure what she was supposed to say. "I didn't have the opportunity to really speak with him but he looked quite handsome."

Amaryllis sighed. "It's just that Papa has been switching his mind between pushing me at Legolas and locking me up in a windowless cave. Not that I can't escape from such a room! But still!"

"Your father is acting like all fathers dear. He wants to protect you and he thinks Legolas is the best option. You'll find your perfect match and he'll accept it." Or else was firmly implied by Hermione's tone.

"Amaryllis, you said something earlier that confuses me."

"Yes?"

"You said your mate was most likely a human. And that Sherlock, Khan and Astra had elf mates? How is that possible? How do you know?"

Mother and daughter gave each other a look before Hermione spoke.

"It's something private, unique to dragon biology."

"I won't tell anyone if you tell me," Bilba vowed.

Hermione looked at Bilba intently before nodding. "I know you won't dear." She paused to gather her thoughts before speaking. "When a dragon shifts for the first time it is always to the race of their perfect match, a shape that appeals most to their future mate. A dragon doesn't shift unless they are pure of heart and intent, ready and able to handle the joy and burden of being half of a couple.

"Dragons haven't shifted in millennia, not since they Fell from the Taint. That's why they've been dying out, because they couldn't take a mate. Smaug would have died mateless if the Valar hadn't sent me to him, to cleanse his soul and shape his thoughts. He was a friend for many years but it was only after he shifted I started seeing him as something more."

"How did he know? That you were his perfect match?"

"He knew," was all Hermione said.

Bilba frowned. "All your children have humanoid forms."

"Yes. Usually a dragon first shifts occurs after maturity. All my children shifted minutes after they hatched."

"We think it's a sign from the Valar: Go forth and have children," Amaryllis explained in a booming, theatrical voice. "It's really odd because we think Astra has met her perfect match. We aren't saying anything because she's too young and it's better if he recognizes it and chooses if he wants to be bound to her."

"Legolas?"

Hermione laughed. "Oh no. He is much older."

"So you're certain?"

"Almost positive. You have to see the two of them to understand."

"So you aren't concerned? That he's older?"

"Bilba, Smaug is centuries older and he was a cold-blooded killer. Glor— Astra's possible match is everything a mother could want for her daughter. And speaking of possible matches, what about you? Any suitors? Near or far?"

Bilba blushed and shook her head. "No one. I wasn't a proper hobbit when I was younger and folks have long memories in The Shire. The ones who do like me… I didn't like them enough to accept their suit."

"Are you very attached to living in the Shire? Having a hobbit husband?"

Bilba opened her mouth then shut it. Did she really want to go back to The Shire? Live as a spinster who never caught a husband?

"No…" she said slowly.

"Then what about other races? Man? Elf? Dwarf?" Amaryllis spoke the last one slyly.

Bilba blushed but forced herselt to speak calmly. "Elves and Big-folk are too tall. I wouldn't feel comfortable with one. Living in the same household would be troublesome."

"You haven't said anything about dwarves," Hermione pointed out casually.

"I haven't met many dwarves," Bilba murmured. "Just the ones in the Company."

"Most of them are older or in relationships," Hermione allowed, "But some are young and single; the scribe Ori, Fili and Kili," Hermione studied Bilba intently. "Or is it their uncle who intrigues you?"

Bilba blushed then paled. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I watch you watch Him. You like him, don't you." It was a statement, not a question.

"There's nothing wrong with chasing someone who doesn't like you," Amaryllis added firmly. "Girls do it all the time. Sometimes boys are dense and don't See you until you make them really look at you."

"I'm no tween to be chasing anyone," Bilba sighed.

"Nonsense! Men do appreciate being pursued. It is proof they are still desirable." Hermione explained calmly.

"I don't know. I don't think I can even think of chasing Thorin."

"You don't have to chase him," Amaryllis pointed out. "You just need to put yourself out there. So he can see the real you."

"If he has the brains Aule gave him he'll see you for the gem you are," Hermione added.

Bilba bit her lip. "He's a King. A dwarf king. He's going to marry some pretty dwarf lady and have dwarf children."

"He's a dwarf king who just won his kingdom by his own sweat and blood. He's going to want someone he can trust and rely on by his side, someone who is more than a pretty face with a greedy father."

"I don't have a large dowry," Bilba argued, though her resistance was weakening.

"You have something more valuable than money: Fertility. The dwarves need good food and good health more than gold or gems. You are Yavanna's child. She will listen to you if you have a worthy need, and what is more worthy than restoring a destroyed land? Planting, tending and harvesting to feed your people?"

"I'm only one hobbit."

"Who is the granddaughter of the Thain. Surely you have a few Took relatives who would be eager to travel to strange and foreign lands."

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

It didn't happen quickly.

Using Hermione's advice Bilba first approached Balin, since he had taken over the Seneschal duties.

"How are the food supplies doing?"

"Badly," Balin confessed. "The Dale has surpluses but not enough to feed all the dwarves who are starting to arrive. We have enough to manage this winter but the one after is going to be a different story."

"Can Dain's folk go back to Iron Hills?"

"We need them here, to help with the rebuilding. Dis will be arriving with the first caravans in the spring. We will have to buy food just to feed them."

Bilba inhaled deeply. "We can grow food."

Balin looked at her. "The frost will kill anything we plant. There are some caverns that were used to grow root vegetables and mushrooms but it's not going to be enough."

Bilba chewed on her lip looking everywhere before screwing up enough courage to look Balin in the eye.

"I've been working in Hermione's gardens. She has a set-up that can grow fruits and vegetables, trees even, in elevations where there is always frost or snow. Inside a mountain."

Balin frowned. "And what would this cost us?" he asked.

"I don't know. I can ask. There will be a price but it can be part of the wergeld Smaug owes the dwarves of Erebor."

Balin looked at his notes, the current supply inventory and his calculations. They would barely make it into spring but there would have nothing to eat while tending a crop. He debated the pros and coins before making a decision.

"Okay. Talk to Lady Hermione. I'll talk to Thorin."

From his expression, Balin was not looking forward to the impending shouting match.

~ooOoo~

It was a big one but eventually Thorin had to concede and agree: Smaug would work off his wergeld by helping the dwarves survive the coming years. And he had to do real work! His mate was not going to magically fix everything!

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Thorin had been sceptical when he heard the requests communicated through Bilba: Bring every empty intact mining cart up to the forges.

At the appointed time Smaug and Hermione appeared with a near-soundless pop. But this time they were accompanied by Amaryllis, Astra and Hadrian, and two identical teenage boys the same age as Amaryllis, but more like their father in appearance, though their ears were more pointed.

"Our sons Sherlock and Khan," Hermione introduced. "They'll be doing the bulk of the material transport."

The boys nodded their heads in unison and wandered over to the closest carts. They grabbed the edges of one and vanished soundlessly with the cart.

"We found a lovely beach with the best sand for making glass," Hermione explained. "The boys will be bringing carts of sand back." She turned to Bilba who was watching quietly. "Do you mind keeping Astra and Hadrian entertained? If they were old enough to have reliable self-control I'd ask Sigrid to baby-sit, but they aren't."

"I don't mind," Bilba assured as she stepped forward to grab the wrists of the youngest children and step back a safe distance. "Should I take them out?"

"No," Hermione said decisively. "They enjoy watching us work."

And work they did.

The twins returned with a crate filled with sand and vanished with another empty cart. Amaryllis levitated the cart over to the forge lit by Smaug who had shifted into a hybrid dragon-man form. He had stripped off his clothes and shoes, standing in just a pair of loose-fitting cotton pants. There was a trail of red scales that ran down each side of his neck to join at the top of his spine and run down his back in a faint ridge. His forearms were covered with scales, looking like gauntlets though they were flexible and more flesh-like over the hands and claw-tipped fingers. Thorin suspected his lower legs were similarly armoured given the claw-tipped toes.

Hermione poured the sand and held it mid-air while Smaug blew flames, melting the sand and shaping it with his breath and fire.

"You need control," he told Amaryllis. "You have to breath at a constant even rate. Fluctuations will cause imperfections that will crack when tempered. If it cracks remelt it and begin again."

Amaryllis nodded and followed her sire's instructions. The glass she created were smaller and flat sheets, quite unlike Smaug who was making glass with curves and bends.

They emptied the first sand cart and started on the second cart, then the third, then the forth.

There were piles of worked glass, shaped pieces and flat. While they cooled and tempered Smaug produced a leather-bound journal and opened it to a set of detailed drawings the depicting sections of what looked like a house made of frames.

"It's a greenhouse," Smaug explained. "It traps heat and moisture inside so plants can grow in cold seasons and lands."

~ooOoo~

It took several days for dwarves to assemble the iron framework from Smaug's design. In that time Smaug had already constructed two similar structures. The dragon was a skilled worker though he used very few of the tools one would expect a metal worker to use.

"You use magic." Thorin accused.

"A bit. But I've built similar structures before. A lot." Smaug countered.

"It is better not to use magic for a structure that needs to last without magic maintaining it," Hermione explained. "I only helped by holding the rods while Smaug welded them. And we have experience assembling and building structures mid-air."

~ooOoo~

Thorin watched as Smaug fitted the sheets of glass into the framework, using his claws to cut pieces so they would fit exactly so.

"Why are you putting one pane from outside and another from the inside?"

"Hermione calls it double glazing. The air trapped between the two panes of glass improves the heat retention."

~ooOoo~

Next came the copper piping to transfer water from the hot springs throughout the floor of the greenhouse, under wooden slats.

"You don't want the water to escape. It has too much minerals and will affect the soil quality. Someone has to check the pipes at least once a year and maintain it."

~ooOoo~

They were using existing air shafts and re-opening a few mining shafts to bring in fresh air but there was no way they could bring the sun into the mountain. Thorin's ancestors had used a complicated system of mirrors and extra-wide air shafts but the mirrors had been destroyed and the shafts collapsed.

The eldest three were transporting several crates into the cavern; appearing with one, dropping it off, and vanishing before reappearing with another.

This time it was Hermione who took the lead. She opened the first crate and removed the straw padding the contents. There were fist sized chunks of glass with a chunk of quartz suspended within. When she touched one it lit up with its own light, the source of the light being the quartz crystal.

"These globes emit natural sunlight. They need to be exposed to the sun for seven days before they can be used inside for seven days." She pulled a book from the crate and handed it to Bilba. "I've included a copy of my notes, the best layout arrangements, concentrations required for certain types of plants. You'll need to build a framework to hold the orbs. We use something similar to a metal hanging basket suspended from the ceiling. Someone will have to be assigned the duty of switching and recharging the orbs. I suggest you divide the orbs to have three sets: one in use, one being charged, one for backup, in case of bad weather."

"How long will these last?" Thorin asked.

"The enchantment will last ten years. At that point you will be self-sufficient enough to trade for food, or if you wish to continue with the cavern fields you can buy replacements from us. At market price."

~ooOoo~

Once the greenhouses were set up and ready to go Bilba took the lead, planting the vegetable seedlings she and Hermione had cultivated in Hermione's greenhouses. Bombur tended the root vegetables planted in the cavern itself, since they didn't need as much warmth to grow.

After the first harvest of mushrooms, carrots and potatoes Thorin had to admit Smaug had definitely paid off a good chunk of the wergeld owing. With the cavern fields and greenhouses the dwarves could afford to house and feed all the dwarves who would be travelling to Erebor in the spring.

It was after this did Thorin give strong consideration to Balin's other urging: Ask Lady Hermione to purge the gold sickness from the Company, from Durin's line. Thorin did not want another Thror hording gold and making enemies because he loved gold more. And Hermione was more than happy to do so, paying off even more of the wergeld.

Thorin could sense the change within minutes of drinking the foul-tasting potion. The whispers urging him to act selfishly, the flickering ghosts taunting him from around corners, they were all gone.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Hermione was getting annoyed with Thorin Oakenshield. He was not taking the hefty nudges from her and his own dwarves. He was refusing to see Bilba as a potential spouse, a worthy queen.

"Every time anyone points out how pretty and good and loyal Bilba is he pretends he doesn't hear. And he keeps calling her Burglar!"

"Does it have to be him?" Smaug asked. "All dwarves are sons of Mahal. And I've noticed more than a few of the newcomers admiring her looks and competence."

Hermione bit her lip. "Maybe I should stop trying with Thorin."

"Hermione…"

"He doesn't publicly appreciate her, he doesn't admit he wants her. Maybe a bit of competition will get him off his arse."

Smaug groaned but said nothing. It was impossible to divert Hermione when she decided on a course of action.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

Thorin was going mad. He thought he had been so smart, resisting Bilba's sweetness, the matchmaking from Hermione, Amaryllis, and his own Company (traitors)! Bilba was too young for an old dwarf like him. He could not keep her from her warm, comfortable home in The Shire, bury her in Erebor away from green things. But now he was having second doubts about his decision.

Smaug's mate had stopped pushing Bilba towards Thorin; instead she was playing matchmaker and introducing Bilba to every dwarf in Erebor! And Bilba was showing no sign of what men called 'cabin-fever'. She was enjoying herself in the greenhouses, tending the more delicate plants and herbs. She was already drawing up lists of possible plants that could be used or sold to the residents of Laketown. She had not said a single word about going back to The Shire. In fact she was talking about staying permanently, writing to her relatives and asking them to send her belongings and seeds to Erebor.

Now Thorin had to face the reality that Bilba might be staying and accepting another as suitor and husband. Thorin knew he could not bear that possibility. It would kill him to see Bilba with another. But how was he supposed to tell her that he wanted her when he was the one who had pushed her away?

~ooOoo~

"Have you given thought to Ruful?" Hermione asked idly as she sipped her tea. "He seems quite taken with you."

Bilba's lips turned down at the corners. "Maybe. But I have the feeling he's more interested in my connections. To you and Thorin."

"Possible. But he does like you."

"But I don't like him. Not like…" she trailed off with a sad look.

"Not like you like Thorin," Hermione concluded.

"Yes." Bilba stiffened her shoulders. "Ruful seems soft."

"He's definitely not soft," Hermione scoffed. "He's a blacksmith."

"But he doesn't make my tummy flutter," Bilba confessed.

"Have you ever felt it before?"

"Yes. But it always went away when I kissed. Too wet and sloppy."

Hermione laughed. "I have to agree. I wouldn't want a wet sloppy kisser."

"I'm assuming Smaug is not a wet sloppy kisser."

Hermione's expression turned dreamy. "You would be right." Her expression turned serious. "You said Ruful seems soft. How?"

Bilba bit her lip and thought hard before speaking. "I haven't seen him fight. I know dwarves are trained but I haven't seen him Fight, go up against impossible odds and come through. He doesn't make me furious and determined to prove him wrong. He doesn't make my stomach knot and my pulse pound."

"Do you dream of him at night? Do you imagine him pinning you to your bed, running his hands over every inch of skin, squeezing your breasts—" "Hermione!" "Settling between your thighs, pinning you down with his weight, driving his—" "Enough!"

Bilba glared at the older woman. "Enough," she repeated. Her breath was ragged. "I dream of him every night. I pleasure myself imagining it's his fingers but it's not. It's not rough and callused and thick and strong. I wake feeling empty and hollow, needing to be filled. By him. I want him so bad it hurts."

"Then why are you telling this to me? What are you waiting for?" Hermione asked. "Go to him. Tell him."

"It's not proper."

"Dwarves notions of proper do not match hobbit notions. Besides, Thorin doesn't care much for proper behaviour."

"And what about children?"

"Yavanna will bless you, I have no doubt about that. If the Council throws a fuss Thorin has two heirs in Fili and Kili. Besides, do you really want your son to be king?"

"No." The answer was immediate and truthful. Bilba did not want her children to be burdened by a crown. It was hard enough being part of a royal family.

"Then go to him."

~ooOoo~

Thorin was tired. It had been a long day and he had not seen Bilba for three whole days. Balin had informed him she was spending a few days with Hermione. He hoped she would be returning soon. He had gotten used to her showing up in the afternoon with a tray of tea, currant scones and berry tarts, to 'encourage' him to take a break.

He was walking on automatic, heading to his bedroom when he realised there was someone else in his private rooms. Bilba was in his sitting room with a tea tray and lemon tarts. Peppermint tea. He changed direction and walked to her, accepted the mug of herbal tea and sat down beside her.

One and a half mugs of peppermint tea, and two lemon tarts later, Thorin felt much better, and ready to ask the question on his mind.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were spending a few days with Hermione."

"I was. She's very comfortable to talk to." Bilba looked away. "We were talking about things and she asked me a few questions that got me thinking."

Thorin was confused. "May I ask what were the questions?"

"She asked me what I was waiting for." Thorin stared at her, a small bud of hope unfurling. "She asked me why I was talking to her about how much I want You."

Thorin reached out and gripped her wrist with one hand, loosely encircling with thumb and pointer finger. The pad of his thumb rested over her pulse point. Absently he caressed it, up and down along the blue vein. "How much?" he asked softly.

Bilba met his eyes. They were so green, like grass in The Shire. Her pupils were dilated with a thin ring of green. Her lips were red and faintly swollen, bleeding through a small wound. She had been chewing on them.

"I dream of you when I'm sleeping. I imagine you touching me like you are," she glanced down at her wrist, "And in other places." She gripped his hand and lifted it to her breast, moulding his fingers around her flesh. She wasn't wearing a corset or any chest bindings, just her tunic and a thin chemise.

He could not resist squeezing the soft curve, testing the weight and resiliency. Thorin was not used to females with such lush ripe curves. Darrowdams tended to be flat and muscular, unless they were with child or nursing. He could feel her nipple, long, erect and so very sensitive. Her breath hitched as he squeezed, twisted, and manipulated. It wasn't long before the tunic laces were unknotted, the tunic and chemise tugged over her head and tossed aside. He palmed both breasts playing with her dark brown nipples.

"Where else do I touch you?" he asked, softly in one pointed ear. She shivered and he could feel the reaction in her body. Curious he traced the edge to the pointed tip with his tongue. Her reaction was electric.

Bilba cried out and stiffened before her body twisted. One second towards him, the next away. Her body was torn between conflicting effects. Intrigued he captured the tip of her ear and sucked gently. He was forced to abandon her breasts, to set one hand on the back of her neck, the other against the lower curve of her belly, to control her almost violent thrashing. He could hear her frantic breathing, feel the struggle in her tiny body, the ripples in her belly muscles, the trembling of her limbs.

Bilba lay against Thorin as he pushed her skirt up and tore a slit in the crotch of her damp drawers. She trembled as he swiped thick, callused fingers through the thick slickness coating her lower lips. She moaned and arched her hips towards his touch. Her jewel was engorged, swollen erect and very sensitive. She smelt musky, tasted faintly citrusy and delicious. She rolled her hips up into his strokes, shifting so the callused pads stroked directly over her jewel.

"How do you want me?" she gasped out inbetween soft pants. "Temporary or for life?"

Thorin didn't have to think. "For life."

"As your secret indulgence? Your concubine? Your plaything?"

"As my wife!" he snarled and thrust two fingers into her opening, hooking upwards to stroke the textured flesh. "You are mine!"

"And children?"

"I will cherish them because they are Ours."

She came apart under his touch, wrapping her arms around his neck for an anchor. Once she could think coherently she moved against him, straddling his lap, pressing her groin against his semi-erect cock. He wished he had loosened the laces of his trousers. If he had he could be feeling her wet warmth against his cock. He could be inside her, buried in her hot, silky cunt.

Bilba clearly felt the same because she moaned and pressed closer. "I need you inside me," she begged. "I ache. I feel empty, hollow."

Thorin shifted her just enough to tear at his laces and push down his trousers. The moment his cock was free and erect he lifted her up and settled her over his groin. She was so wet there was no resistance as he slid in, deeper, higher. Her cunt was longer than he had imagined. She took every single inch of him inside her with ease. Thorin liked that. He did not have to be extra careful to restrain himself every time he rammed his cock into her tight hole.

Bilba moaned and spread her knees, sinking impossibly deeper until her lower lips were pressed flush against his groin. She rocked her pelvis, rubbing her jewel against him. Thorn reached down between them to pinch and twist her swollen flesh, making her come hard on him. The convulsions of her cunt around his cock made it impossible for Thorin to resist when he came, filling her with his seed.

Deep down Thorin wanted his seed to take root, to watch Bilba's waist expand as she grew heavy with child. His only worry was Dis. He didn't want to tell her they had to have the wedding before she arrived because he could not control himself from taking his betrothed to bed at every single opportunity.

~ooOoo~

The next day Bilba was wearing a set of betrothal beads and braids in her hair when she arrived in the main communal dining hall for breakfast. She smiled proudly as she accepted the congratulations from everyone around. When Hermione, Smaug and their children showed up she ran straight to them. She didn't have to say a word, her expression said it all.

Hermione laughed and knelt on the ground to hug the hobbit. "Congratulations dear. I wish you and Thorin all the best."

Bilba smiled shyly. "Thorin wants to have a ceremony in the spring, after his sister arrives."

"Dis will kill me if I get betrothed and married without her witnessing." Thorin had followed Bilba and was standing just behind the hobbit.

Hermione nodded. "Dis is being sensible. Any good sister will want to talk to her future sister-in-law first."

"Hermione…"

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if you could stand up with me. At the wedding,"

Hermione smiled gently. "I would be honoured."

"Can I be your flower girl?" Astra asked. "I'll be a really really good flower girl."

Bilba was confused. "Flower girl?"

"It's a tradition from my land. A young female relative, or child of a friend, precedes the bride, throwing flower petals on the path to the altar."

Bilba smiled. "That sounds lovely." She hugged Astra. "I'd love to have you as my flower girl." She stepped back on Thorin's foot, to keep him from saying anything. Sure, flower girls were not a hobbit or dwarf tradition, but all traditions had to start somewhere. Maybe all future dwarf brides would have flower girls, because their Queen started the new trend.

Whatever the future would bring, Bilba was absolutely positively certain she could face it, no problem. She had friends and family and in the near future she would have a husband who she loved more than she ever thought possible.

~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~ooOoo~

The End

Hope you enjoyed the fic. No plans to return to this verse/fic. Consider it as complete