I Need To Know

Summary: AU. Bilbo Baggins hoped no one would know of his predicament, especially Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain. Bilbo/Thorin; mpreg.

-x-

The Shire looked exactly the same now as when he had left, running as fast as his large feet would carry him, off on an adventure with a company of silly dwarves. But Bilbo Baggins was glad to be home. Not to say he did not enjoy a lot of the time with the dwarves, with their king, with Thorin Oakenshield, as they had reclaimed the kingdom of Erebor in the Battle of the Five Armies. They had come out victorious, cheering for their king as goblins and orcs alike were slain in the battle. Bilbo had watched more than once as Thorin had gotten too close to an orc, its blade almost finishing him on numerous occasions. But Thorin was fast and strong and managed to hold them off with nothing but a few scratches that would scar at the worst. When the enemy lay dead, Thorin found Bilbo, standing on shaking legs, in the middle of orc and goblin corpses, holding Sting in his tight grip. He lifted his eyes to meet Thorin's, both hobbit and dwarf covered in blood and wounds. The adrenaline fuelled them and made Bilbo drop Sting before he threw himself into Thorin's arms, gripping at the fur on his coat as if his life depended on it. They held each other tightly, both trembling in the other's arms. Bilbo felt tears in his eyes as they sunk to the blood stained dirt together but they were tears of joy that they had lived to let the other know of their feelings. Thorin lifted one hand, running his large fingers down Bilbo's wet cheek, wiping away his tears. That night, as Erebor was reclaimed by the rightful dwarf king, Thorin and his company mourned their dead, sang for them, Bilbo by Thorin's side always. They eventually left the battlefield and entered the king's tent. They bathed each other's wounds, dressed them and cleaned the other up, removing traces of goblin blood from the other's face. Thorin's eyes locked with Bilbo's, both dwarf and hobbit's heart began racing within their chest. Thorin's eyes moved to Bilbo's lips before he leaned down to capture those lips in his own. Bilbo's eyes closes immediately, welcoming the affection, mirroring it, kissing the king back as if he was going to slip away from him at any moment. Lowering Bilbo to the fur that lined the floor of the tent, they stripped each other of their bloodied clothes and Thorin made hard, passionate love to the hobbit there and then, in the aftermath of battle. It could not have been more perfect.

But that night was now the reason Bilbo had to return to the Shire.

He had lived three solid months by his lover's side before he noticed anything. The sickness that plagued him most mornings; his slightly unusual cravings for strange things; the slight swell of his stomach. He had never informed his beloved that male hobbits could carry children because he had never thought he would have to. But now he was certain he was indeed carrying Thorin's child, the heir to Erebor, he did not want to burden Thorin with the news. Thorin had given no indication that he liked children or wanted any children of his own and it pained Bilbo to think that his lover may have a negative reaction to the news. That was when he decided what he wanted to do..

"You wish to leave me? To leave Erebor?" Thorin asked. They were lying together on their bed, snuggled as close as they could to each other. Bilbo opened his eyes when he heard the disappointment that laced his beloved's voice.

"Not forever, silly dwarf," Bilbo reassured him. "I wish to return to the Shire only to see the place I grew up in once more before I officially become your consort. I want to bring all my personal belongings back with me since I am staying with you for good." Bilbo leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Thorin's bearded chin, making the king turn his head and open his eyes, watching the hobbit for a moment. "You understand, don't you?"

"Of course I do. I will come with you ..." he began but Bilbo cut him off.

"You have only just reclaimed your throne. You need to stay here and be the wonderful king you are," he said. Thorin sighed deeply. "This is just something I have to do, Thorin." They stared each other out for a moment before the dwarf king pulled his hobbit close, running a hand over his lover's hip and over his lover's slightly swollen stomach. Bilbo felt his inside's tense, not wanting Thorin to know about the child. But Thorin did not notice.

"I cannot convince you otherwise?" Thorin asked, smiling gently. Bilbo could do nothing but smile back at his king and press a kiss to his lips.

"I will be back before you know it. Gandalf will be heading that way. I shall ride with him and I shall write to you as often as I can while I am gone. But I shan't be gone long," the hobbit said, pressing his forehead to Thorin's.

That was four months ago.

Now Bilbo stood in his house in the Shire, his back aching as he carried around Thorin's heir inside of him. He felt so guilty for not telling Thorin about the babe, but part of him was glad he didn't as he was not sure he could bear the look of disappointment on his lover's face that he had managed to become with child. Sighing deeply, Bilbo pulled his dressing gown on, trying to disguise his growing midsection. Since coming back to Bag End, he had kept to himself. To the residents of the Shire, he was an unattached hobbit. If someone found out he had managed to get with child, it would be frowned upon. Moving to the front door, he cracked it open and when he saw no one about, he scurried down the steps to his mail box, grabbing the letters from within before running back into the house as quick as his pregnant belly and sore back would allow. Closing and bolting the door behind him, he went to his armchair to sit down. Once comfortable, he flicked through his letters, nothing interesting until he came across one letter with a familiar immaculate script on the envelope. Thorin. Bilbo took a deep breath before he opened it, almost smelling the dwarf's scent on the paper. He took a deep breath again before he began to read.

My dear little burglar,

Four long months have now passed and you have still not returned to me. Most upsettingly, you did not reply to my previous letter, making me wonder if you have changed your mind about returning to my arms at all. Every day I hope to hear of your arrival back in Erebor, hoping you had made the journey back to surprise me but, alas, that is not the case.

I miss you dearly, my burglar. Every day you are gone is like a stab of Orcrist to my fragile heart, knowing you are not here. I pray that you are well, Bilbo, and that you reply to my letters as soon as you can. I want to know you are safe and when you are to return. I love you deeply, Bilbo Baggins, more than my heart will allow. I hope you still feel the same.

Forever yours,

Thorin Oakenshield.

Bilbo stared at the letter, reading it over once more. How could Thorin question his feelings? Of course he loved him; he loved him so much he ached for him every second he was not with him. The truth was that Bilbo was frightened. Frightened that Thorin would not want the child; frightened that he would leave him, knowing that Bilbo had not told him the truth. Bilbo wanted to tell him everything; he simply did not know how. Leaning forward, he grabbed the iron poker for the fire and prodding it at the logs in the hearth, making the flames spread over the wood. Yawning, he sat back in his chair once more.

"Hiding away here will not change what has happened," a voice said from behind him. Bilbo started, turning quickly, the iron poker in his hand as a weapon, only to see Gandalf sitting behind him, smoking away at his pipe. Bilbo put the poker down before drawing his dressing gown around him, knowing it really wasn't making any difference. "Fool of a hobbit you are, Bilbo Baggins, to separate a king from his heir."

"What are you doing here, Gandalf?" Bilbo asked, trying to slow his fast beating heart. He sat down in front of the fire once more, not looking at the grey wizard.

"You know why I am here, Master Baggins. Thorin Oakenshield awaits your return to Erebor and here you are, only a few short weeks away from birthing his heir and you have not uttered a single work about it to him," Gandalf said, his voice relatively calm. Bilbo felt like a naughty child, getting scolded by a parent.

"Gandalf ..."

"Do not 'Gandalf' me, Bilbo. You owe Thorin an explanation as to why you have not returned his letters and to why you have not returned yourself to him," the wizard said. "You are his world, Bilbo. You are the very air he breaths, young hobbit, and I will not see you lie to him anymore. After everything that has happened, everything you have been through together, do you not expect him to support you?" Bilbo sighed deeply once more. It seemed like only yesterday he and Gandalf had sat in exactly the same place as they were that moment and the grey wizard had scolded him for sitting too quietly in life.

"What do I tell him, Gandalf?" Bilbo asked, his voice cracking. Gandalf looked down at the little hobbit.

"The truth, Bilbo. The truth."

-x-

Gandalf's visit had unnerved the hobbit, making him want to tell Thorin everything. But there was always one small part, at the back of his mind, shouting at him, telling him that Thorin would reject him if he told him the truth. He was in no fit state to journey to Erebor now; he would have to wait until he birthed the child. He had not even attempted to put quill to parchment to write back to Thorin, despite Gandalf's scolding. It had been two weeks since the wizard had visited his home and in the last two weeks, his son (he knew it had to be a boy) had become a restless little creature within him. It was definitely Thorin's heir, wriggling around in there. Bilbo became tired, more than he had in the past, and sore, which made him retire to bed for the evening, but sleep did not come. The guilt plagued him mercilessly, making him wish he had told the king. Bilbo sat up, giving up on sleep completely, and got out of bed, pulling on his dressing gown, picking up his candle from the table beside his bed before moving through the dark hobbit hole. The little heir kicked at his stomach, making Bilbo very uncomfortable.

"Oh stop it, little one, for goodness sake," Bilbo said to his rounded belly. He ran his hand over the solid bump, feeling the little one kick at his hand. "Please stop." He moved to the fireplace, putting water into the kettle, ready to make some tea.

"Good evening, little burglar," a voice said from behind him. Bilbo did not jump in fright; he merely dropped the bucket of water all over the floor in shock. Bilbo knew that voice. He knew that voice when it was angry; when it was sad; when it whispered to him in the throes of passion. He turned from the fireplace to see Thorin Oakenshield sitting at the end of his dining room table. Bilbo locked wide eyes with the dwarf king's. Thorin did not smile, yet he did not have a look of anger on his face. Bilbo dropped his gaze. "So it is true?"

"Gandalf told you, didn't he? Bilbo said, sighing deeply. Thorin was silent, which Bilbo took to mean 'yes, the wizard told me everything.' Thorin stood from his seat and walked round the dining table. His eyes flicked down to the large bump Bilbo had, his eyes lingering there for a few moments before his eyes met Bilbo's again. "Thorin, please say something." Thorin just stared at Bilbo for a bit longer before he spoke.

"You lied to me, Bilbo. Why did you not tell me the truth?" Thorin asked, his voice cracking. There was an underlying hint of anger in his tone, but his voice held sadness, disappointment almost. Bilbo felt his eyes fill with tears at the hurt in his lover's eyes.

"I ... I was frightened, Thorin. Of everything. Of carrying, of birthing, of you, of ..."

"Me?" Thorin asked, absolutely aghast. "Why were you frightened of me?" There it was again. That crack in his voice, like he was almost close to tears himself. "Bilbo?" Bilbo felt awful, absolutely awful that he had run away from his problem instead of facing it head on. He sighed and turned from Thorin, moving to sit down on a chair nearby.

"I was frightened that you would not want it. I was frightened thinking your reaction would be negative because I never told you this was a possibility," Bilbo said. "I did not want looking after me to get in the way of your duties to Erebor, to your people and I did not know how Fili would take the news, being next in line for the throne." Thorin frowned. Bilbo looked back down at his feet, well, his belly as he hadn't been able to see his feet for a couple of months, no matter how big they were. Thorin took a few moments to take in what Bilbo had just said before he stepped forward to his lover and knelt down in front of him.

"Bilbo, you could not be more wrong, in everything you have just said. You need only have told me and I would have been your servant, my burglar. I would be there at your every beck and call, rebuilding of Erebor or not. You are carrying my heir, Bilbo Baggins, and I would do anything to make you comfortable," he said, his hand resting on Bilbo's thigh. "I love you too much to see you uncomfortable." He lifted his hand to touch Bilbo's growing belly but stopped short, looking up at Bilbo for permission. Bilbo nodded and took hold of Thorin's hand and pressed it to his belly, letting Thorin feel the wriggling babe beneath his hand. The look of pure joy that passed over Thorin's face would forever be an image etched into Bilbo's mind. It was a truly beautiful sight. His lips curved into a truly beautiful smile, one that seemed to only happen in Bilbo's presence, which he was thankful for. Thorin looked back up at his burglar. "You will come back to Erebor, won't you? I should like you to be home with me when the birthing takes place." Bilbo smiled back at his king.

"Anything for you, my king."