Title: Sweet As
Fandom: The Hobbit
Pairing: Dwalin/Ori
Rating: G
Length: 615
Summary: Dwalin finally loses the strength to continue fighting...

In all truthfulness, Dwalin is tired of fighting it. He’s spent most of his life fighting, whether as part of Thrór’s army or as part of his job as Head of the Royal Guard. Why should he fight that which was an intrinsic part of being a dwarrow; his One.

He has been fighting it for so long that, whilst he had not forgotten why he was fighting, he was sick of the emotional exhaustion that came from consistently fighting. He can think of a hundred reasons why he shouldn’t claim his One; they’re so different, he’s too old, his One is too young, he’s too battle-hardened and his One’s brothers are likely to kill him regardless of what choice he makes but he’s starting to care less and less.

He has a One and all that that entails. His other half. Another dwarrow created just for him by Mahal himself. Someone for him to love and care for, to protect until the end of his days.

Ori, son of Vuori.

His One.

Dwalin had known, as soon as he walked into Balin’s study all those years ago, that the young scribe was his One but had done his level-best to ignore it. Ori was young – barely past his majority – and while he may have Durin blood flowing through his veins, it had been acquired outside of the marriage bed leaving many feeling that the sons of Vuori were beneath their notice. Thus, instead of accepting that Ori was his One, Dwalin had ignored it and the wounded looks that Ori had spent years shooting him.

And then they had both ended up on Thorin’s quest, one last attempt to reclaim Erebor and Dwalin was finding it harder and harder to resist the bond. He has lost count of the number of times they have nearly been killed, first by wargs, then goblins, then Azog and his orcs and finally by the elves and Dwalin can’t help but wonder why he has fought against this so hard. He doesn’t want to end up being taken back to the stone and Mahal’s arms never knowing what it is like to love – and to be loved – by his One. He wants to be able to claim Ori as his One.

In the end, Dwalin’s resolve lasts barely two days once they arrive at the relative safety of Beorn’s. The whole company stops being quite so on edge and relaxes somewhat, splitting up into twos and threes and availing themselves of the peace and sanctuary of Beorn’s garden. Thorin is alternating between being maudlin about the quest and whether they will reach Erebor in time and looking lovelorn in the direction of their burglar, so Dwalin musters his not inconsiderable courage and heads in search of Ori.

The scribe looks a mix of terrified and confused when he sees Dwalin heading in his direction. Both emotions utterly understandable; Dwalin is formidable even when he isn’t practically charging like a war ram and he has spent the last several decades avoiding Ori whenever possible. Once he reaches Ori, Dwalin doesn’t waste any time and pulls the scribe into his arm, claiming the first – and hopefully not the last – kiss that they’ll share.

Ori opens up to him with a murmur, lips parting beneath Dwalin’s insistent onslaught as he all but melts into Dwalin’s embrace. It’s sweet and shy, just like Ori himself, and Dwalin can taste the lingering honey that Ori’s obviously been sampling from Beorn’s beehives.

It feels good.

It feels right.

Dwalin can’t believe that it’s taken him so long to give in to this and just knows that he’s not going to stop doing this ever.