Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, or any associated characters or concepts. Consider it disclaimed. Quotes in this chapter taken directly from The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien.

You know in Star Wars, when Leia kisses Luke just to spite Han, and Luke leans back, puts his hands behind his head, and looks so smug and pleased with himself? Thorin is just dripping that same kind of smugness after the last chapter. It's hilarious.

Summary: On the way to the Undying Lands, Billa is eaten by a time-traveling sea monster. The elves on board attack the monster in retaliation, and it escapes by swimming into the past: several decades into the past. Billa wakes up in a sweat, gasping and frightened, only to realize that she is back in her thirty-three-year old body. What on earth is she going to do?

Chapter 10

Billa had lived to a very respectable old age, and had seen many wonders and marvels during her life-time. She'd been known as mad, an adventurer, a ring-bearer and an old maid. In this instance, the description was apt. Despite the slaying of orcs and dragons, Billa was still very much an innocent. Even during her travels with the dwarves, she hadn't really seen much of the male form, for she had always been quick to close her eyes or turn her head away whenever someone's modesty was threatened, as was proper.

This meant that Billa was really quite unprepared for the vision of a half-naked dwarf with long dark hair and bulging, flexing muscles that had greeted her when she had first tried to enter the forge. She had stared for several minutes, utterly entranced by the way the huge, block-like muscles moved under pale skin that glistened with a sheen of fresh sweat. He was clean, save for the new sweat, and the black smudges on his hands and forearms. There was a single dark smudge on his cheeks, which were pink with exertion, and his hair had been tied back from his face with a leather cord while he worked.

On the quest, Billa had come to admire Thorin, and then befriend him. However, faced with his half-bare form that was more muscular and masculine than anything she had ever imagined, Billa was forced, for the first time in her life, to see someone as really male. The kind of maleness that made her feel so very, very feminine just because of the differences between them. The kind of maleness she had never seen before, and really wanted to touch.

She had actually taken half a step forward, hand outstretched, when she came to her senses. Shocked, she fled the forge and collapsed against the wall outside. This was terrible! Her mind was in a haze. She had to snap herself out of this.

"It's okay Billa, it's nothing to panic about. You've certainly seen a male without a tunic before! You can do this," she said.

Of course, the male in question had been her nephew during bath-time when he was just a faunt, but still! This was nothing to fuss over. She'd just had too much sun, or something. Yes, she was over-heated. It had been so hot in the forge, after all. Hot in the forge where Thorin worked... hot in the forge where Thorin lifted his hammer in slooooooow motion, his arm, shoulder, and back rippling as he-

"Just breathe, Billa. Muscles are nothing to get so flustered about! It's just Thorin. Breathe!" She had to get this out of her system before she went in to see Thorin. If he ever realized her weakness, he was more than capable of using it against her. He was a clever strategist, and wasn't opposed to using unconventional means to attain his goals. She could almost see the way he would smirk at her if he ever found out how much his body affected her. No, she had to control herself. This would pass, she was sure of it.

After taking several deep breaths, Billa finally hauled herself to her feet. "I can do this," she reminded herself. I can do this! She gathered up her satchel, gripping her pans reassuringly through the tough fabric. She took another deep breath, straightened her spine, and steeled herself. Then she went inside.

She coughed politely to catch his attention, keeping her eyes firmly on a tool hanging on opposite wall. He kept pounding. Perhaps he hadn't heard her? It was loud in here after all. She coughed a little louder. And then louder. Still, Thorin didn't react.

She risked a glance at him. He was staring down, entirely focused on - was that a horseshoe?- whatever it was he was working on. His muscles were-. She looked back at the tool, and coughed again. After several minutes, she was practically hacking, she was coughing so loud. Then she saw it- a teeny, tiny little smirk tugging at the edge of his lips.

Irritation flooded through her veins. He was ignoring her on purpose! "Mister Thorin!" she shouted angrily before catching herself. She had to at least try to be polite, after all. "I'm here to commission a job."

She stared in disbelief as he kept pounding, before finally - finally - thrusting the horseshoe into a bucket of water and setting it aside, the arrogant sod. Then he turned to face her, folding his arms over his chest in a way that really emphasized -. Focus, she reminded herself. He was staring at her with one eyebrow raised, clearly unimpressed.

"I'm here to commission a job, Mister Thorin," she repeated, hoping that perhaps he would be more polite when talking business than he had been when talking about quests and burglars.

He wasn't. "I'll not have gawkers hanging about my forge, halfling. I work for paying customers only, who have real work to be done." He gave her a sneering up-and-down look, the smug over-sized boulder. "You hardly look like one of those," he said dourly. He turned away and began to poke through a bucket of lumps of metal, clearly dismissing her. That arrogant, self-important, rude-!

Fury boiled through her, and before she could stop herself, she had snatched one of the small coin-purses from her pocket and thrown it- at his head. It was something she had never dared to do when she had first met him, but had always longed to, especially when he was being particularly rude or pig-headed. It bounced off his head with a solid thunk, and landed on the floor at his feet. She smirked. That was oddly satisfying.

At her assault, he had whirled around, brandishing a hammer the size of her head and glaring at her.

"Explain yourself, halfling," he bit out through clenched teeth. She glared right back.

"I am a paying customer, you arrogant buffoon! Or I will be, if you are capable of completing my order, which I very much doubt! I'm only here because Mister Kili insists that you are the best blacksmith for miles in either direction and I intend to prove him wrong!" There. He never could resist a challenge, or the chance to gloat a little when he won. His glare was thunderous now, and she thought that he would very much like to strangle her. He never took well to insults, after all.

"What's the job?" he demanded bitterly. She reached into her satchel and pulled out the old, battered, heirloom pans. She put them on the anvil in front of him, and bent to pick up the pouch of gold on the ground, which she also set on the anvil.

"These were made by my great, great grandfather as a courting gift for my great, great grandmother," she explained. "The blacksmiths in the Shire tell me nothing can be done for them, that they are old and broken and to re-make them would be a waste. It is beyond their skill to re-make these while preserving the original details," she pointed out several embellishments along the outer edge and the handle of each pan. "I have a good deal of influence in the Shire," she looked him straight in the eye. "If you can bring these old pans back to their original glory, I will bring all my future business to you, and others will surely follow." Then, she glared at him and jabbed a finger in his direction. "And if I like you, I'll make sure you have access to the forges in the Shire, and shelter for you or your family whenever you pass through so as to make doing business with you more convenient!" She jabbed her finger twice more for emphasis.

"Well?" Billa asked, "Can you do it?"

Thorin stared at the halfling for a moment, turning one of the pans over in his hands, deftly feeling out the faults in the old, worn metal. Yes, he was perfectly capable of bringing these pans back to life. It would be a challenge, but a challenge he could rise to. He hadn't done anything so difficult in a long time- most people just wanted horse shoes or nails or simple things like that. This would be fun... but why all of the extra perks? Thorin knew very well that nothing in life was free.

He took a step closer and loomed over her, using his height and bulk to intimidate her into a truthful answer. "Why the extras?" he asked. "Why not just one job?"

He got his answer rather unexpectedly as she stared up at him, wide-eyed. She looked properly frightened, but then she blushed, and looked away. Ah, he thought, not frightened at all. She just likes what she sees. Though he had no interest in halfling females, the thought did make him preen a little.

"It's-" She swallowed and started over, looking determinedly away from him. "I have a very respectable reputation in the Shire, Mister Thorin, and no matter how much I want to, I can't leave to see the outside world for any amount of time without risking that reputation. I very much long to see mountains and forests and experience the world, but I can't." She raised her eyes to his. "But maybe, if I can't go to visit the outside world, the outside world could come and visit me." She smiled softly. "I really do need a good blacksmith, and I would very much like to see these pans repaired. Can you do it?" Her gaze was earnest, sweet. Guileless. A curly strand of hair had escaped her hat and was swaying near her still-pink pointed ears. Thorin was a little bit entranced.

"Yes," he said a little hoarsely, before clearing his throat. "Chm. Yes, I can do it." A little off-balance, he snatched the pouch off the anvil and bounced it in his palm. It was gold, he could tell.

"It will cost you two of these pouches," he said sternly. She shook her head firmly.

"You can take that pouch now, and you'll have half of another when it's done. And, if it's up to standard, I'll have another commission for you as soon as you are available. Is that agreeable?" she asked. He stared at her sternly for a moment, before giving a sharp nod.

"I have an order for a previous customer to finish today, but I can start on these tomorrow. This will take a few days, and I've only planned on being here through the end of the week. How long are you staying in Bree?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I'm fairly flexible. If I like them, I'll commission the next piece from you at your earliest convenience. Are you going to be traveling back west towards Ered Luin?" She asked. He hesitated to answer for a few moments. She could be an assassin... but he really, really doubted she was.

"We'll be traveling west," he confirmed slowly. She looked down, and fiddled with her hands for a moment.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble..." she hesitated, glancing up at him shyly, "I've been traveling alone. If it was agreeable to you, perhaps I could travel with your party until you reached the Shire... Mister Kili said there's less than a dozen people in your traveling party. In exchange for protecting and feeding me until we reach the Shire, I would be happy to host your Company for a couple of days, and refresh your supplies before you journey on."

On the outside, Thorin's face was stony. On the inside, he was astonished, and more than a little hopeful. The gold from her commission, and the extra food she offered would go a long way towards keeping them warm and fed this winter. The winter was coming early and showed every sign of being long and harsh. Perhaps they could stay in the Shire more often on their trips back and forth... A few taps with a light hammer to test the quality of this stone was in order. Would this deal sing, or would it shatter?

"Are you certain you have the room for us? Most houses here seem to be small, even for Dwarves. Is it thusly with your dwelling?" He asked. There was no point in agreeing to her accommodations if her accommodations wouldn't be accommodating at all, after all. Oddly enough, she blushed at this.

"Hobbits tend to have very large families. My mother had twelve siblings, in fact. My smial was built with such a family in mind, but I am an only child. When my parents died, it passed to me. There is plenty of room, and my pantries are large enough to feed you for several days before restocking, I am certain. Hobbits eat six meals a day, you know," she smiled a little as she explained. Twelve children? With six meals each day? How in Mahal's name did they feed that many? It took Thorin a few minutes to swallow these facts. He wasn't sure he believed her, but the easiest way to verify her story was to see the truth of it in the Shire.

"And if I was to work in the forges there, whether for you or for another customer?" he inquired.

"You mean for a stay longer than a couple of days?" He nodded. She thought about this for a while. "Well, as long as I was able to contract your services, I would let you stay for free for as long as you need. Your nephews and sister, I would feed and house, in exchange for help around the house or other light jobs. As for anyone else traveling with you this weekend, they enjoy two days free because of your protection on this journey. After two days and nights, they must either earn their keep, pay for their stay, or move on." His eyes narrowed.

"And what, exactly, does 'earning their keep' entail?" He asked suspiciously. Many had tried to enslave his people in the past, thinking them weak or defenseless outside their mountain. They were not so. She, however, beamed guilelessly at him, seemingly pleased to explain.

"Well, for example, Mister Kili mentioned that you have some warriors traveling in your party! Such a warrior could contract with me for a lesson per day, in exchange for food and shelter. Or perhaps I will introduce him to someone who wishes to buy his tutelage, and I take a small percentage of his profit. Or perhaps he pays me in gold or in goods for his stay. I hear you have wood-carvers, artists, story-tellers and even teachers! I can find a use for all of these skills and more, Master Dwarf, either to provide services for free for myself, or to take a finder's percentage if I find someone else to buy those services. It really could all be done on a case-by-case basis. What do you think?"

Thorin was hopeful, and that made him suspicious. If this halfling was honest and kept to her end of the deal, this could be a very good thing for not only his traveling party, but also every dwarf in his care. However, if she was dishonest or greedy and tried to take advantage of them, like so many others had before her, he would ensure that she regretted it. He told her as much.

"If you play us false, halfling, we will take our own revenge against you," he warned her, a fierce and protective light gleaming in his eye, "It will be the last thing you ever do." He stared down at her for several moments. When she opened her mouth to speak, he cut in.

"But- if you keep to the terms of our agreement, I foresee this will be a deal profitable for us both," he said. "I would like to draw up a contract to this effect, but my adviser is in Ered Luin currently."

"Perhaps," she suggested, "We could treat travel to the Shire as a trial run, and iron out a few details while you're staying with me. We can write down what each of us is entitled to in this agreement, and try to think of any issues that may come up and how to solve them. Then, when you leave, you take the papers with you to your adviser. He writes a contract and you bring it back the next time you come through and we can review it together."

He studied her for a few moments with pursed lips and narrowed eyes. "Agreed," he said finally. "I will fix these pans for you, for one and a half pouches of gold. When you recognize their superior quality and flawless workmanship," here, he sent her a fierce glare to let her know that her slight to his skills had not been forgotten, "you will commission another piece, which price we will negotiate at the time of its commissioning. This piece will be forged either here, or in the Shire, and you will ensure I have access to a forge in the Shire." She nodded, agreeing with everything so far. He continued. "Furthermore, you will travel in my party, answering to my authority," he jabbed a finger at her for emphasis, "for your own protection on the journey from Bree to the Shire. In exchange for this protection, you will house and feed my party for two days and nights, free of charge, while I work on your commission. After two days and nights, members of my party will need to move on or work out a payment with you for further hospitality. I will stay free of charge so long as you have access to my far-superior smithing, and my sister's family will only need to provide help around the house or a half-payment so long as they travel with me. Are we agreed?" he summarized the deal as he understood it.

She nodded. "So long as you ensure your party does not destroy or damage anything on my property. If there are damages, I expect the ones responsible to repair or replace them. Agreed?" He glared at her, suddenly insulted.

"Do you think us so barbaric as to bring damage to the one who shelters us?" he almost spat at her. Oh! He was so tired of being looked down on and despised! It was even more unbearable when it came unexpectedly. Things had been going so well. Disappointment cut through him like a blade.

"I mean no offense, Mister Thorin!" she exclaimed. He could tell she was shocked by his reaction. "Mister Thorin, it's just that I've met Mister Kili. He is a boisterous growing lad, and there are antiques and fragile things in my house that are all I have left of my parents. I would like those things to survive, and seeing as he thinks that the sun rises and sets on your command, Mister Thorin, you are the one who can make sure they are respected. I meant no disrespect or offense, Mister Thorin, and I apologize for the misunderstanding," she said earnestly. He could see her logic. After all, she'd had to save Kili from the consequences of his own reckless behavior just the night before. His pride was assuaged, and he was willing to let it go.

"Very well," he said. "We have a deal, Miss Baggins." This was the first time he'd used her name, and he hoped he had remembered it correctly from Kili's rambling explanation last night. He held out his hand to shake.

She beamed widely at him, her dainty hand clutching his with all the strength she possessed. It wasn't very much. "We have a deal, Mister Thorin!"

Thorin, being taciturn by nature, had more than filled his quota of conversation for the day. He had secured a few commissions, earned some gold, and found a place of shelter for the future. The deal was made, and he was done. After they shook, he pocketed the pouch of gold, moved the pans from the anvil to a nearby counter, and went back to the bucket of metallic lumps to start making another horseshoe, completely ignoring his now-unwelcome guest. He heard her snort quietly as she took the hint and turned to leave.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Mister Thorin. It was nice to meet you, Mister Thorin. Yes, the weather looks lovely today, Mister Thorin. Why, you're welcome for saving your idiot nephew, Mister Thorin..." Her voice faded as she left, and he glanced at the door to make sure she was gone. Now that his forge was completely empty and he had no audience, he allowed himself to smirk. For all her bluster, there was one thing for sure.

She was definitely more like a grocer than an assassin.