My first and probably last genderbend fic—I usually don't do stuff like this, but the mental image of the dwarves all worrying over a grumpy, nauseous Bella is way too adorable to pass up :D
(But seriously—when women go on extended adventures, what do they even do about this? HOW DO PEOPLE LIVE WITHOUT PAINKILLERS?!)
Kíli doesn't know too much about hobbits, or women in general, but he thinks he likes Bella Baggins.
She's often snappish, and he doesn't understand why she's so upset about forgetting her handkerchief, of all things... But she's also incredibly witty when caught in the right mood, and doesn't seem intimidated in the slightest by Thorin's abrasive personality. She reminds Kíli a bit of his own mother, actually, and he genuinely enjoys Bella's company as time goes on.
The others—especially the older dwarves—don't seem to know quite what to make of her. Fíli, Ori, and Bofur get along with her just about as well as he does, but Dwalin and Thorin, especially, are keeping their distance. Kíli figures it's just their paranoid natures kicking in...they'll come around soon enough.
Honestly, he's impressed that she dropped absolutely everything to follow after them. They're going on an incredibly dangerous quest—nearly certain death, small chance of success...he and his kin have been training for war their entire lives, but Bella doesn't even have a weapon of her own. Nevertheless, she decided to help them.
If that doesn't demand their respect and gratitude, Kíli doesn't know what would.
They're about a week east of Bree, and though the landscape isn't as tame as it was in the Shire, it's still boring. Today, Bella is riding next to Kíli, and Fíli is on her other side; the hobbit doesn't say much, but she laughs occasionally as she listens to the brothers' lively conversation. After all, they have to do something to entertain themselves.
"Are you all right, Miss Baggins?" Fíli asks suddenly during a lull in their discussion, looking down toward her with a crease in his brow.
Kíli turns as well, frowning when he sees how pale Bella is. One arm is pressed tight across her lower stomach, and her other hand's grip on the reins is white-knuckled. "Bella?" he tries, twisting to see her face better when she doesn't reply.
"Hmm?" she finally looks up, glancing between the two brothers with a tight smile before saying, "Yes, I'm fine. Just a bit of an upset stomach."
"I'm sure Óin has something for that," Fíli says, looking up toward the front of the company, where the older dwarf is riding with his brother. "Do you want one of us to go ask him, or—?"
"No, no, don't worry. This happens sometimes, but it should go away soon enough. I'll be all right."
"If you're sure," Kíli says, utterly unconvinced as he watches her arm press tighter into her abdomen.
"I am," she says, and she's clearly making an effort to make her smile more natural. "Thank you for the concern, though."
But as the three of them turn back toward the road, Kíli resolves to keep an eye on her…to make sure she really does get better. After all, he doesn't want to see her in pain—and a sick or injured burglar will be of no help to anyone.
.
.
Once Thorin calls camp for the night, Kíli and Fíli dismount from their ponies, retrieving their packs and supplies and preparing to lead the animals over to where the others are grazing. But glancing up, Kíli sees Bella struggling to get down from her own pony; her face is just as pale as it was before, and her teeth are gritted as she attempts to get her leg over the saddle.
Fíli frowns in concern—after all, she's not had trouble with this before—and reaches up, helping her get her feet on the ground. His hands linger on her shoulders for a few extra moments, ensuring she won't collapse as she gets her bearings.
"Are you sure you're all right?" Fíli asks, a deep crease in his brow as he looks her up and down as if checking for injury. "I know Óin wouldn't mind making something for you, he's—"
"No, I'm very sure," she says, and that same tight smile is on her face as she shrugs his hands away and pulls her bag from the pony. "Would you mind taking care of Myrtle, though? I need to go visit the bushes."
"Of course," Kíli says, rather nonplussed as she quickly makes her way into the trees, walking rather stiffly. He takes the reins as Fíli shoulders the supplies from the animal's hindquarters, and both of them stare after Bella before turning to each other.
"Should we tell someone?" Fíli suggests, glancing toward the rest of the Company as they all begin to set up camp.
Kíli looks around as well—Thorin's brow is deeply creased as he discusses something with Gandalf; Balin, Glóin, and Óin are poring over a map spread out on a nearby tree stump…
Though Glóin and his brother might have some sympathy for Bella's plight, he doubts Thorin will. After all, he's been skeptical of her inclusion in the Company for weeks, now, and he wouldn't take kindly to such interruptions. No matter the fact that this can't possibly be her fault…Thorin would still blame her.
"Let's not worry them," he says eventually, tugging gently on the pony's lead. "We'll keep an eye on her, but if she says she's all right..."
"Mm," Fíli says, though he doesn't sound convinced, and follows Kíli over to the campsite.
.
.
Bella returns from the trees after a few minutes, all but collapsing onto a fallen log next to Ori as Bombur and Bofur make dinner. The young dwarf looks over at her and opens his mouth in greeting, but Kíli sees his face crumple in concern once he gets a good look at her.
"Miss Baggins? Are you all right?"
And indeed, if anything, Bella looks worse than she did earlier. Her face has regained none of its color, and the heel of her left hand is still pressed firmly into her lower abdomen. She turns to smile at Ori, and it's surely supposed to be reassuring, but it only serves to raise alarm bells in Kíli's mind. She says it's merely a stomachache, but he's never experienced one that left him looking like that. Even when he grossly overate during Fíli's—and, later, his—coming-of-age ceremony, he hadn't looked like he had been about to keel over then and there.
"I'm fine, Ori," she says in a rather breathless voice. Though he nods, Kíli can see the concern in his eyes—and in Dori's, as the elder dwarf sits down next to his brother.
Dinner is ready soon enough, and everyone files in with their bowls as Bofur doles out their portions. Bella, on the other hand, does not rise from her position on the log, hunched in on herself with her arms still around her stomach. Kíli sees Dori hesitate before shaking his head and leaving her to her own devices. He doesn't think he has the heart to do that, though; he shoos Fíli on ahead, instead approaching the hobbit and putting a tentative hand on her shoulder.
"Bella? Do you want me to get your dinner?"
"I'm not too hungry," she says a bit stiffly, looking up at him. (She's still trying to smile at him, damn it!) "If there's nothing else that needs doing, I actually think I'll turn in for the night."
Kíli hesitates, looking around the camp—strictly speaking, Bella is on clean-up duty, but he's sure someone will pick up the slack easily enough—before shaking his head. "If that's what you want. But you should eat something before we start moving again, tomorrow."
"I will, don't worry," she says. She pats him on the arm as she stands up, still half-hunched over, and pulls her bag behind her as she makes her way toward an empty patch of ground.
Kíli frowns when she doesn't even unpack her bedroll, only near-collapses, using her bag as a pillow and curling in on herself. He knows better than to question a woman's decisions, though—second-guessing his mother one too many times taught him that—so he only shakes his head and makes his way toward Bofur, resolving to figure this out later.
.
.
The next day, Bella is much grumpier; Kíli knows that despite how early she turned in, she didn't get much sleep. After all, he took second watch, and he saw her tossing and turning for much of it before she finally seemed to fall asleep just before he had to wake Balin.
He's not the only one who's worried, this time; much of the Company is staring at her with varying degrees of concern as she excuses herself into the trees again, pulling her pack onto her shoulder as she nearly limps away.
(Why in Mahal's name does she need her pack to relieve herself?)
Thorin doesn't seem to notice anything, though; soon enough, they've broken camp and are on their ponies again, ready for another day of travel. Fíli makes a point to ride close to Bella's side as the morning wears on, and Kíli mirrors his position on her other side.
Clearly, whatever is ailing her has not let up one bit, because her face is positively bloodless; the heel of her hand is digging into her lower stomach, so deep it looks painful; her other hand is shaking violently as she grasps the reins of her pony. She does not seem to listen to Kíli and Fíli as they talk; she only stares straight ahead, as if memorizing the back of Glóin's head is of utmost importance.
"Bella," Kíli begins hesitantly, knowing he probably shouldn't ask after her health but feeling a near-overwhelming urge to do just that, "you know that Thorin isn't completely heartless, right? If you're not feeling well—"
"I'm fine," she snarls through gritted teeth, not even turning her head toward him. "Let's not worry the great Thorin Oakenshield—not when I don't even belong here in the first place."
Fíli's eyebrows shoot up at that, and Kíli thinks he would be offended, if Bella were not so obviously miserable. If he felt as poorly as she looks, he thinks, he would be just as short-tempered.
So instead of bothering her further, the two of them only fall into an uneasy silence, sending the occasional glance toward Bella to ensure that her condition has not worsened. It's nearing lunchtime, and the others are digging through their bags for quick meals on the road. Kíli is just thinking about how to approach Óin without her knowledge—surely, any sort of pain reliever would be preferable to nothing, even if they have to slip it into her dinner—when something moves in the corner of his eye.
Just as he turns, he sees Bella sway dangerously in her saddle, her eyes clearly struggling to stay open as they move lethargically from side to side. Then, her vicegrips on the reins and her stomach suddenly go slack as she lists right off her pony, only saved from an unfortunate landing by Kíli's grasping hands.
"Bella?" he says in terror, his eyes widening as she doesn't move. Her body is a dead weight in his arms. "Bella? Miss Baggins!"
Fíli turns in alarm, and all three of their ponies stop moving as Kíli shakes the hobbit, trying to catch her attention—wake her up—what's wrong with her—
They're at the back of the line, and Bella isn't moving; the others continue on without realizing what's happened. Kíli panics—he's still gripping Bella by the arms, supporting her entire weight as she lolls against him; he looks to his brother with wide eyes, hoping he will know what to do. Fíli seems to flail for only a moment before collecting himself, and his voice is loud and clear (if not a bit desperate) as he yells, "Thorin! Gandalf! Stop!"
The rest of the Company still their ponies and turn curiously in their saddles, eyes widening as they take in the sight of Bella unconscious. Óin and Gandalf hurry back, dismounting quickly and pulling Bella from Kíli's arms, laying her down on the ground as the rest of them arrive.
"What happened?" Thorin's voice is gruff, but Kíli would say he looks concerned as he climbs off his pony as well. He approaches Gandalf, who has his hand over Bella's face, muttering something in a strange language with his eyes closed. "Is she injured?"
"She said she hasn't been feeling well," Fíli says quickly, craning his neck to try and see around Gandalf before he continues, "an upset stomach, apparently, but it seemed much worse than that."
Thorin hums in response, though his brow is furrowed deeply as he looks down at the hobbit, who now seems to be stirring feebly under Gandalf's care. "When did this start?"
"Yesterday afternoon," Kíli says quickly, "but she said she didn't need anything from Óin, so we thought it wasn't anything serious."
He's about ready to dismount from his own pony, drop to the ground to ensure that she's all right (if she's not, it's his fault—he should have told someone), but then something strange catches his eye, on the seat of her saddle.
When he inspects it closer, he almost screams as he reels back.
"There's blood! On her saddle! She's bleeding!"
The rest of the dwarves jerk, and Gandalf's brows shoot up as Thorin strides quickly to investigate. Kíli thinks he seems oddly calm for the situation; he only narrows his eyes for a moment before nodding to Gandalf and Óin. "Get her on her feet. We'll find somewhere to camp and stop for the day. There's no point in pulling her along half-conscious."
Kíli's rather surprised at this announcement; after all, Thorin has been the one to insist they keep to a strict schedule on the journey, to ensure they get to the mountain as soon as possible. For him to voluntarily lose several hours of travel…
For Bella's sake, he's not complaining, but…it's strange.
Soon enough, Bofur and Bifur have found a suitable campsite, and they all unburden the ponies as Bombur starts a fire and Óin carefully sits Bella down against a tree. He and Gandalf are asking her questions, checking for injuries, and Kíli hovers nervously nearby, pretending to be busy as he awaits the verdict.
"I'm not injured," she's saying, her tone blunt and irritated as she slaps Gandalf's hands away. "I just—felt faint for a moment. There's no need to stop everything. I'll be fine."
"You will not be fine," Óin says emphatically, frowning at her. "Kíli saw blood on your saddle, and you were entirely unconscious before Gandalf woke you up. Clearly, there's something wrong."
She blushes a brilliant red and only scowls at them all, casting her gaze around camp before looking back to Gandalf. "I'mfine. There's nothing wrong with me, I swear."
Óin only squints at her before shaking his head and standing up. "If you need anything, lass, don't be stubborn about it. We don't want you suffering unnecessarily."
She rolls her eyes but says nothing in reply as the dwarf walks away. Gandalf hovers for a moment, but at Bella's glare he quickly makes his retreat as well, muttering to himself about stubborn hobbits and too proud for her own good.
Kíli's almost too scared to approach her—stewing and glaring as she is—but curiosity gets the better of him. Gladly ignoring any duties he should be performing to help set up camp, he sits down a foot or two from her, careful to keep his distance but still seem supportive. "Do hobbits have diseases that dwarves do not?" he asks after several moments, during which she seemed perfectly happy to ignore his existence. (She's still holding her stomach, and her face is still taut with pain. How can she claim she's fine?) "I have never seen stomach pains that extreme."
She laughs, but it isn't cheerful as she replies tartly, "Unless our races have wildly different anatomy, I doubt this is something exclusive to hobbits."
He's not entirely sure how to reply to that, so he only twists his hands together for a moment before blurting out—"You're sure you're not injured? That was—that was definitely blood, and if anything gets infected—"
She sighs loudly, staring at him with almost an incredulous expression on her face before shaking her head. "I promise you, I'm uninjured. I appreciate the concern, but if you dwarves smother me any more, I may have to start cutting off some heads."
He laughs weakly and is considering his strategic retreat (before he becomes her first victim—women are scary when they're angry) when Bombur approaches her; he has a warm smile on his face as he passes her a blanket. "Here you go, Miss Baggins," he says, stepping back a pace or two. "I've started lunch as well—you haven't eaten in a while, and you won't start feeling better until you do. You need to drink water, as well—dehydration only makes it worse."
"…Thank you," she says, clearly surprised, and unfolds the blanket, draping it around her shoulders. "I'll…I'll try and eat something, then."
Bombur positively beams at her before returning to the fire. Kíli's just wondering how he managed to have a whole conversation with her without getting his head bitten off, when Fíli sits down next to him. He sends a dubious glance to Bella before saying, "She's all right then? What was the blood from?"
"I don't know," he says, furrowing his brow for a moment before shrugging. "She says she's not injured, and Gandalf couldn't find anything wrong with her, so…"
They fall into comfortable silence as the rest of the dwarves settle down. Glóin and Bombur are fussing around the fire, and Thorin is digging through his pack for something, but everyone else is just relaxing, apparently planning to enjoy their day of rest.
After a while, lunch is ready; Kíli grabs his bowl, hesitating for a moment before deciding to brave Bella's wrath. "Would you like me to fill your bowl?" he offers meekly, standing a good distance away in case she decides to try and kick him for being annoying. "Since Bombur wants you to eat?"
He almost winces in anticipation, but she only smiles up at him and rummages with her bag for a moment before offering her bowl. "Thank you very much."
He smiles brightly before making his retreat, making sure Bombur puts a generous portion in Bella's bowl before returning it to her. Then, he seats himself in his original position, chatting amiably with his brother and Nori as they all eat.
He sends an occasional glance toward Bella, and he's glad to see that she is eating, albeit slowly. He wonders suddenly whether she's feeling nauseous as well, because she's only taking small spoonfuls at a time, and she's only drinking sips from her waterskin…
Whatever this is—some strange hobbit illness or something else entirely—Kíli sincerely hopes he never contracts it, because she seems utterly miserable.
After a little while, Glóin also approaches Bella, a steaming mug in his hands and a sympathetic look in his eye. "The lads said you have cramps," he says, offering the drink to her. "Try this—I don't know how effective it will be for a hobbit, but it works wonders for my wife."
Her eyes widen momentarily before she recovers herself, accepting the mug with a nod of thanks and sniffing at it briefly. "I'm sure it will work wonderfully—I can't imagine we're that different."
Glóin hums in response, smiling and gesturing vaguely behind him. "Let me or Bombur know if you need anything else. His wife is affected badly, as well—we can try and come up with something else if that draught doesn't work."
She beams at him, then; and his smile widens as well before he retreats to sit on the other side of camp. Bella takes a small sip of the draught, obviously cautious of the contents…but eventually, she's taking larger drinks, and color slowly returns to her ashen face as she gets more food in her system.
After a few more minutes, when Kíli is just about finished with lunch, Thorin also approaches Bella. Strangely enough, he's holding a waterskin in his hand, and there is nothing of the scorn that usually adorns his face when speaking with the hobbit. "Use this for your back. Or your stomach, if Glóin's draught doesn't work," he says, holding the pouch out for her. "If it cools off, Bombur has water boiling over the fire. Just ask someone to refill it for you."
"…Thank you," Bella says, obviously surprised as she accepts it, shifting to press it against her lower back under the blanket. "I'm sorry for delaying you—a bit of a stomachache isn't any sort of excuse for losing half a day of travel—"
"Don't be ridiculous," Thorin snaps, folding his arms across his chest. "I have a sister, burglar. I know this is not something you can just shrug off. I'd say you're handling yourself quite well—were Dís to go a full day without a pain reliever, I doubt anyone would survive to tell the tale."
Bella's mouth gapes open for a moment before she collects herself, only nodding her agreement. "I trust you will be ready to travel by tomorrow?" Thorin continues, squinting down at her. "And next time this happens, do not hesitate to request aid before it gets this severe."
"All right," she says, obviously still surprised. "And yes, I should be fine by tomorrow. You don't need to worry."
Thorin huffs and nods sharply at her, turning quickly and retreating to sit back down next to Dwalin. Kíli is totally nonplussed—he turns to Nori and his brother, hoping one of them will know what's going on, but both of them look just as lost as he is. In fact, looking around the campsite, most of the dwarves look utterly confused by this turn of events.
All Kíli knows is that Bella's been afflicted by some sort of terrible ailment that apparently only affects females, rendering them nearly immobile and wracking them with such horrible pain… (And Thorin said next time this happens? It isn't an isolated incident? Mahal help her…)
He considers the hobbit as she settles more comfortably against the tree; her cheeks are nearly back to their normal hue, now, as she chats with Bofur, who has seated himself near her. His concern is clear on his face, but he's not foolish enough to voice it aloud. Instead, he only distracts her from the pain she's surely still feeling, until her muscles gradually relax, the arm across her stomach slackens, and her smile seems a bit more real.
Kíli decides quickly that Bella Baggins is even more remarkable than he initially thought. After all, if their mother—and evenThorin—admit that this pain is crippling, then it must be beyond terrible. He can't even imagine…
He shakes his head, sighing heavily before returning to Fíli and Nori's conversation. Whatever it is that's affecting Bella, Glóin and Bombur clearly don't consider it to be incredibly dangerous. Hopefully, she'll be fine soon enough.
(Though he makes a mental note to check what this is with Thorin, if only to ensure that he won't be able to catch it from her.)
Because as much as he admires Bella's resilience to such pain...he'd rather not have to experience it himself.