As Thorin and Bilbo walked together through the great hall leading eventually to the Throne Room, a young Dwarf woman with a baby in her arms and a small child by the hand ran towards them. She stopped in front of Thorin, taking a long bow, then came up to him asking for what Bilbo interpreted as a blessing for her new baby. The first born in Erebor since its relative restoration. Very gallantly, Thorin approached her and bent over the little bundle. He smiled and caressed the baby's cheek, whispering something in Khuzdul. As well as Bilbo could hear, it was a wish of long life and prosperity.
"What will you name him?" asked Thorin, stepping back at Bilbo's side, after completing his kingly duty.
"If we may, Your Majesty, we want to name him Frerin, in honour of your brother."
"An excellent choice," approved Thorin, then glanced down at the baby's older sibling, who was staring at him mesmerized. "And who are you?"
"This is Drain," said the mother proudly.
Thorin crouched to Drain's level and said hello. The child's hand immediately went to the beaded cuff at the end of one of his braids. It was a deep-blue round sapphire lined with mithril.
"Drain!" the mother scolded.
Thorin glanced up. "It's all right. You like this?" he asked, addressing the child. He then reached to his braid and took off the cuff.
"Your Majesty, please," said the woman, sounding mortified.
Bilbo gave her a slight shake of the head. She relaxed, smiling back, but still appearing somewhat reserved in accepting what was happening as being part of normal routine.
Thorin took the child's palm and placed the cuff in it, then folded it, both of his own hands closing around it affectionately.
"Thank you," said the dwarfling, with a little smile.
Thorin chuckled. "You're welcome."
He stood up slowly, his eyes having caught Balin coming towards him. "I will leave you with Bilbo," he said as the white-bearded dwarf approached.
The woman took another ample bow before him. Drain continued to stare.
Thorin received her thanks, and then extended a hand discretely to Bilbo, squeezing his. He was careful with public displays of affection. Bilbo squeezed back and smiled to him for goodbye.
"I will return him later," said Balin winking and started back with Thorin in his trail.
The proud mother redirected her attention to Bilbo and the two of them huddled together over the newly blessed baby. Bilbo also acknowledged the older child, who was turning the bead that Thorin had given him in his hand, studying it closely. Any child would have been drawn to a colourful twinkling gem, but this was a Dwarf child, and there was something industrious to his scrutinizing.
"Do you want me to put that in your hair?" asked Bilbo. The boy nodded, eagerly. "Yes? Well, come this way," he said and led them into a nook carved into the wall especially for retreating from the traffic on the main hall. The three of them sat down and Bilbo started combing the child's hair with his fingers as he lacked the proper equipment.
"Dwarven hair," he muttered, "as stubborn as its owners."
The mother giggled, but the child seemed taken now with the ruby cuff in Bilbo's hair. That one was lined with tiny diamonds, much more brilliant than the mithril. Any adult Dwarf would have recognized it as a token of engagement, slightly more ornate than the usual, as it had been given by someone important. Bilbo still wore it even if, in the meantime, he had received something more final. As he began braiding the little boy's hair, he reached up to it.
"Oh, you want that one, too, do you?" said Bilbo. "I'm afraid I can't give it to you, little one."
"Why?" asked the child.
"Well," began Bilbo giving a quick glance to the mother, who returned a reverent gaze. "This bead that the King gave you, would you let go of it?"
"Never," said Drain with much determination.
"I also got mine from the King and I can't part with it either."
"I understand." In spite of his tender age, Drain obviously perceived the full meaning of a gift from the King, especially if it was valuable.
The matter settled, Bilbo looked up at the mother and she approved with a nod. "You are very good with children."
"Mhm, you don't have to look very hard to find them in the Shire," said Bilbo, his fingers continuing to weave a tight little braid in Drain's hair.
"And you're quite skilled at braiding," remarked the woman.
Bilbo glanced at her again, cocking an eyebrow. "I've had practice."
She smiled endeared again. Everyone knew that the hobbit had been essential not only in the retaking of the mountain, but also in Thorin's recovery after the battle.
"Of course, I realise not everyone gets to practice their braiding skills on the heir to the throne of Erebor. I've been lucky."
"We are the lucky ones," murmured the mother, and Bilbo looked her in the eye. There was kindness in them, but she was very serious. "Do you miss it? Your home?" she asked.
"Not anymore, not so much," said Bilbo, finishing his work and finally putting Thorin's cuff into Drain's hair. He rushed to bring it to his front in order to admire it, beaming with a healthy dose of pride.
"I'm glad you decided to stay," said the mother.
"It was an easy decision to make."
She hummed as if she understood exactly what Bilbo meant. "I hope you know how grateful we are to you. Not just for helping with the quest. His Majesty has had a hard life. It is a relief to see him happy for a change. Perhaps there are better times in store for us yet."
"I think so, but he has many reasons to be happy now that he's got his mountain back."
"Yes, but nothing can make a Dwarf happier than love."
"Well, it does us Hobbits some good, too."
"Yes, it is quite obvious. My home is full of love, Master Baggins. I know it when I see it," she said, squeezing the hobbit's hand gently.
"Call me Bilbo," he answered, feeling his face warming rather abruptly.
"Well, Bilbo, it makes me sleep better at night to know that my king shares in the quiet happiness that I have with my family, that he knows the value of it, and that when the day ends he doesn't go to an empty bed to dream of gold."
Bilbo lowered his gaze to his hands, which were now resting on his knees. "I, I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything," said the woman, getting up, but placing her hand again over Bilbo's. "Just know that you are loved."
Bilbo looked up at her and wanted to say something, but it was her turn to wave him quiet with her head. He closed his mouth and got up, as the woman bowed her goodbye, prompting her older son to do the same. He stood there watching until they disappeared into the long distance of the hall. Around him, nods of acknowledgement kept coming his way from passers-by. It was nothing unusual, but he had simply thought that Dwarves proved more polite in times of prosperity than everyone else gave them credit. Perhaps it was more than that.