Disclaimer: The Hobbit, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J. R. R. Tolkien's estate, and Warner Brothers, New Line Cinema, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and WingNut Films.

Author's Note: Inspired by madwriter223's A Predator?

Dedicated: To JoeyBear1424.

My Pup, My Wolf

The little hobbit flushed hotly when she woke up that morning in her proper form, Bofur's enormous hat still on her head and Gloin's tunic swallowing her, surrounded by snoring dwarves. The previous night's apprehension and fear flashed through her mind, and she attempted to sit up. The massive arm draped around her wrist instantly tightened, holding her prisoner. Glancing up, the lass found Dwalin's face close to hers, his dark gaze intense.

"Morning," the warrior mumbled drowsily, his expression relaxing into something close to a smile. He leaned down and touched their noses together; just as he had done last night after Thorin had brought the pup-hobbit back to the pack, and Dwalin pressed his cold nose to hers to calm the shivering creature.

Bilbo squeaked in surprise at the contact, then blushed when Dwalin withdrew, fixing her with a familiar frown. "G-g-good morning, Master Dwalin," she stammered.

The tattooed dwarf lifted his head, eyes scanning their surroundings for any signs of danger. Finding none, he laid down once more, his grip loosening on the hobbit.

"The tales are true then," she whispered when the silence and Dwalin's unbroken stare became too uncomfortable for her.

He huffed. "You changed as well."

"Well, yes. But I'd not been acquainted with dwarves before you all showed up at my door," she responded stiffly.

"Aye," the dwarf drawled with a smirk.

"Is it true what the stories claim – that wolf-dwarves have only one mate?" Bilbo snapped her mouth shut a moment too late, the words already out. Foolish Baggins!

Dwalin's face grew guarded. He shifted back from her. His eyes narrowed.

The hobbit wished to tell him to forget her hasty question, to apologize for her rudeness (it had not taken her long to realize dwarves were very protective of their privacy). But bubbling alarm stilled her tongue.

The bald dwarf looked away from the lass. "It is true," he answered slowly.

"Do you have a mate?" For the second time the Halfling silently bemoaned her wayward tongue, especially when the other creature visibly tensed at the question. Now she'd done it! He would growl at her, maybe—

"I have," the words were breathed, a low rumble. Still he did not look at Bilbo.

After a moment she whispered, "Oh." Surprise…she was simply surprised, she thought (resolutely ignoring the faint pang deep down inside). Just because Gloin and Bombur often talked about their wives didn't mean the others were as willing to share about their personal lives.

Well, this was terribly awkward. She had been protectively snuggled into Dwalin's side the whole previous night. Shared nose kisses with him. Was presently still lying close beside him (her relatives back home would faint if they could see her now). And he had a mate, a love, someone waiting for him. It was best she get out of here now.

She considered saying, "I'm sorry." Instead, she simply sat up and pushed his arm away. She barely made it to a crouching position before she was jerked backward and tucked back into the dwarf's warm side. Dwalin loomed over her, his arms caging her.

"Going somewhere, little pup?" he inquired curiously.

Bilbo swallowed nervously. "Yes...away. This can hardly be proper, hugging someone like this who isn't your mate." She just knew her face was beet red from her neck to the tips of her ears.

It was fascinating the way Dwalin blinked owlishly at her, his expression blank, then changing to disbelief and exasperation. He sighed deeply and shook his head. Wordlessly he leant down, pressing his forehead gently against the hobbit's.

Bilbo froze, her breath stolen from her lungs. Her green eyes were wide and dazed when the warrior pulled away enough to meet her gaze. Her heart fluttered at the wondrously soft look he gave her.

"It's you, silly little pup," he confessed. "My mate, my pup."

"Oh!" she gasped.

It was only when the confident, hopeful light started to dim in the dwarf's face at the increasing silence that broke the lass from her shock.

"Oh, good!" she exclaimed in relief. Shyly she tangled her fingers into Dwalin's massive beard. "My wolf," she said, smiling sweetly.

Then she cut off the dwarf's chuckle by kissing his smiling lips.

THE END