Hobbits are attracted to soft things, Dwarves are attracted to opulence.
It was the talk of the Shire when the last Baggins ran off on an adventure, presumed dead of course, those adventures are nasty, deadly things; even more so when he popped up again, a rather large, rather wild looking fellow at his side. He'd not been home for long before talks of a wedding started circulating. And of course there's no talk for polite society quite like wedding talk. It was even more a surprise when, confronted about the rumors on one screechy morning by a Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, he quite gleefully announced that it wouldn't be to a Hobbit at all but to a dwarf of all people. The dwarf that had taken to following Mister Baggins everywhere, Dwalin they called him, had let loose a rather frightening, growly laugh at the shock on all their faces. Poor Miss Sackville-Baggins had to be carried down the hill after she fainted the poor dear. They were told to sit tight and be patient, that they would get their fill of ogling soon enough. In the meantime all of the Shire was alive with the joyous occasion of wedding preparation. Because if there is one thing that Hobbits love more than Mushrooms it is celebrating. And a wedding of any kind is as good of an excuse as any.
A quiet catching worry of having so many dwarves about does spread through many of the older, more respectable hobbits. They're just so very different is all, especially if they're anything like Mister Dwalin; who is a great help when it comes to lifting heavy things but is truly terrifying when he's had a bit much to drink as he's fond of heavy handed cuddles and the hobbits are a fragile folk that bruise quite easily.
So is it any wonder that mutters and murmurs chase up and down the hill when the wedding party arrives for one Mister Bilbo Baggins and the good folk of Hobbiton get a look at his groom?
At first glance he was a very comely fellow, round and jolly with a smile that could make up for the beard. And then he was introduced as one Master Bombur, one of the Groomsmen. The good hobbits of the Shire were quite quietly appalled when Mister Baggins introduced his Fiance to them. A Master Thorin Oakenshield Son of Thrain Son of Thror; a rugged dwarf with far too many angles and tangles and hard lines and edges, covered from head to toe in lean muscle that had a great many hobbits doubting Mister Baggins skills as a homemaker. He was grumpy whenever he was parted from his fiance and moody at the best of times. There was nothing soft about him, which it is common knowledge to be that which Hobbits prize most dearly in a partner. And, in the opinions of the Hobbiton high society, one of the singularly most unpleasant and unattractive individuals in the entirety of Middle Earth.
Though he did briefly salvage their good opinion when he thoroughly and succinctly put at least a temporary end to the screeching of Lobelia Sackville-Baggins by glowering at her so hard she was, for the first and probably the last time in her life, struck dumb.
As the wedding grew closer the murmurs grew more frantic, was Mister Baggins really intent to tie himself to this unpleasant dwarf? He was certainly eccentric but he's a kind fellow and the hobbits of Hobbiton surely did not wish to see him miserable. Such murmurs persisted until the time they were overheard by the rather overzealous nephews of the dwarf in question and were silenced with enthusiastic prejudice. So the Hobbits worried. Privately. And quietly. (No one was going to be the first to find out if the young dwarves really would skewer them like shish kabobs and leave them to dry in the sun.)
Until the day of the wedding.
Gathered in a discontented crowd the hobbits of the Shire watched on as the glowering dwarf stood watching for his husband to be, barely paying any heed to the officiant. (To be fair Old Took was paying him about the same amount of mind, distracted he was rattling off tales of Tooks past). And then, when Bilbo entered, something remarkable happened.
Icy steel eyes melted into warm springs, tense shoulders settled open and loose, clenched fists relaxed, subconsciously reaching forward just the slightest bit.
That day, that dwarf was the softest of any seen before or seen since to this very day. And every single Hobbit in the Shire was jealous of one Bilbo Baggins and his beautiful soft dwarf.
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