First off, a HUGE THANK YOU to Square_Pancake for Kili's Deed Name!
Second, this may seem rough but, hey, I am most certainly an amateur. Which is why I have decided that whenever this story concludes I will be re writing it, in fact, I have already started re writing the first few chapters. So you guys get to read my rough draft and then later the story will become more fleshed out and better. I just hope you can all bear with me until then.
Thank you so much for reading, I hope that you like it. Expect the next chapter out by June 11th!
I am still looking for a Beta, if anyone is interested.
*** link for BIlla's dress /onlineStore/images/roxxonline/productPhotos/Dark%20blue%20&%20gold%20velvet%20medieval%20hooded%20dress%20% ******
Chapter Text
Chapter Thirteen
He watched her stroke the hair and inspect the bead and for the first time in a month, his heart was a little lighter and her smile a little brighter. When his knees had gone past aching and his face was sore from his grin Billa reached for him again and gently tipped his face towards her and softly, hesitantly brought her lips to his. They were as soft as petals and warm, so warm, like a hearth fire on Yule. It set him alight inside and he could not keep himself from bring his hands up to her cheeks, tilting her head back and rising on his knees to kiss her harder and deeper and run his tongue gently across the seam of her lips, and when she sighs he-
It was the third time this week Thorin had woken from a dream featuring Billa's soft features. The twelfth since she accepted the company back into her life. He had been busy the last three weeks getting ready for his coronation and leading the efforts to ready the mountain for winter, but Billa was constantly skirting the edge of his thoughts. Whether he watched her take notes during meetings, ink stains on her fingers and hair tied in a knot at the her neck, or ferrying food into the tents of various company members, he had never SEEN her like this before. On the quest he had feared for her, at first, hoped she would go back home and be safe. After she saved him from Azog on the Carrock he saw her blossom into a confident young woman, one who knew her strength both in steel and in mind. He had been proud of her; the same as when Fili crafted his first sword or Kili shot his first bull's-eye. But this, this was beyond the warm pride he had felt; this was a slow burn in his gut, a constant awareness of her presence. This was a deep seated attraction.
He let out the breath he had been holding, hoping to shake the last vestiges of the dream from his mind. There was no time to be distracted today, today he became the King Under the Mountain, today his victory was complete. The mountain was reclaimed; the wyrm dead and his people would live to see the spring. Tonight they would feast in the halls of his ancestors and celebrate their victory and mourn their losses, but that was tonight. Right now he had to get up and ready himself for a meeting with Balin, who was going to be giving him rigorous instructions about his coronation, while he may have been working his whole life for this moment did not mean the ancient rites were memorized. It was going to be a long and glorious day.
"Do you, Thorin son of Thrain, second of your name, proven as Oakenshield, swear to lead Durin's Folk into a prosperous age?"
The ceremony had been going for hours already, with herbal baths and ceremonial armor that led to anointing within the Temple of Mahal. Now he kneeled before the throne of Erebor, his grandfather's throne the Arkenstone casting its glow over his head, reciting his oaths to his people and office. He had promised to rule with wisdom and a level head and listen to the whispers of the stone. Now he pledged to lead his people back to greatness. Just a few more oaths between himself and Gandalf and he would be King.
"Do you further promise to rule with a steady hand and a generous heart?"
"I, Thorin Oakenshield, swear to uphold the honor of Durin's line and bring peace and prosperity to all who come to the Lonely Mountain. May the strength of my Maker guide me and the bounties of his wife bless my reign."
The throne room had been filled to capacity, every dwarrow wanting to watch the crowning of the new King, the Company sat in the front row with Dain, Bard and his family and Thranduil with Legolas. The scent of pine was heavy to cover the linger scent of smoke, but the dwarves were home. When Gandalf placed the crown of gold and onyx on his head and he rose to face his people their cheer rang within the mountain like great bells and echoed to even the deepest mine shaft. Erebor was again home to Durin's folk.
"My people," Thorin's voice rang clear above the crowd's cheers, "long have we mourned our losses from the day Smaug came. We lost friends, family and our home" The silence that stretched was absolute, "but we never faltered. Not when we were hungry and starving, not when we were forced to craft in lowly smithies for a pittance of our worth, not when we wandered across this world searching for a warm hearth and safe tidings. Not once did we fall to our knees! We were carved from stone and like the mountain we endured and now, we are home!" A great cheer rose from the masses again, great whoops and hollers from every attendant each competing to be the most joyous. Thorin raised his hands to quell them, "But while we are a strong and proud people let it never be said that we are not grateful or that we do not honor our friends and allies. Today it is my great honor to bestow Deed Names onto four of the fiercest and most loyal people I have ever known. Would Crown Prince Fili, son of Dis, step forth?"
Fili was resplendent in his Durin blue leather with black leggings, his armor was a shining scale steel, his crown a thin band of mithril in his braided blonde hair. He carried his head high, never once flushing from embarrassment or nerves. This is a man who would be a good King.
"Prince Fili," his sister son met his gaze unwaveringly "You reclaimed a mountain and stood up in the face of great terror and danger. But far more than that you fought to protect your fellow soldier, your brother, even with the wrath of the White Orc upon you, you did not waver in fear nor cower. You kept your swords and prepared yourself to fight and die for kin and king. For this I name you, Fili Lion-heart, the Crown Prince of Erebor!" while the noise from the crowd was great it meant little to the Prince, who instead focused on his Uncle's warm gaze as he tapped his forehead against his. "I am so proud of you my boy." and with his head held high, Fili took his rightful place at Thorin's right side.
"Would Prince Kili, son of Dis, step forth?" though the archer had lost much of his childish naiveté during the journey and subsequent battle he had lost none of his energy, he practically bounced to Thorin at his throne. "Prince Kili, when you were young you chose to master the ways of the Archer, much to your Mother and I's dismay" the crowd chuckled a little, archery was seen as a fairly elvish pursuit, "but despite our worries and the mocking of your peers you practiced relentlessly and worked to become the greatest dwarf archer in our history. Then you undertook a journey that those three times your age feared to. You started the road as a young man on the cusp of adulthood and ended it as a blooded warrior, just as capable and deadly and any of your forbearers. Your skills were often the only thing between our Company and certain death, for this determination and dedication to craft we name you Kili Keen-shot, Prince of Erebor!" again the crowd rose up to cover the moment between Uncle and nephew, Kili stood next to his brother.
"Would Dwalin son of Fundin come forth?" Dwalin had been surly when Thorin asked him to receive a Deed Name, but after Thorin promised to make it a really, really great one and Balin promised to help him, he caved. "We name you Dwalin Morgul-bane!" Really what else could they have named him, Dwalin ragged-ear, Dwalin giant-pain-in-my-royal-arse? No, Morgul-bane was best and from the grin on his face Dwalin must have liked it too.
"Would Billa, daughter of Bungo come forth?" Thorin wasn't surprised that Billa would not look up from the ground. She had always been a humble creature, though none would call her meek. She was clearly intimidated by the crowd. Writing out Billa's deeds had been the most difficult he wanted her to understand how much he appreciated everything she had done for him and his people.
"Thirteen companions took up arms with me, not thirteen warriors or thirteen adventurers, but they came all the same. Twelve of them came because the Line of Durin called, because I called, but one came because it was right. She left her green and gentle land and gave up her home because ours had been taken. So she became our burglar and over the many months on the road became even more than that. She was our good cheer, our care taker, our friend and for many she is our family. She riddled with a dragon!" there were roars of approval from the crowd, "Burgled from the Elvenking," the noise went up a level, "she sought peace when others sought war and she killed the Defiler! She fought for our home and our lives as a mother defends her young, so we name you Billa Mountain Mother!" and slowly, softly a first a word rose up through the ranks, "Amadel. Amadel. Amadel." And then they are chanting it, screaming it, their voices rising in the proclamation of their greatest hero,"Amadel! Amadel!"
The chant makes Billa's eyes meet Thorin's, "What are they saying?"
"It is their name for you in Khuzdul; it means Mother of all mothers." His tone is light and teasing and it pleases him to see her blush creep higher on her cheeks. "They do you great honor."
The feast that followed was plentiful and full of joy, with generous provisions gifted by Thranduil, Dain and even Elrond. They had found the cellars in the royal wing mostly undamaged and the wine was strong and dark when they uncorked the casks. The music came from dozens of instruments, flutes and fiddles, drums and guitars; it was the merriest gathering of his people in a century.
Billa was dancing with Balin, her dress a gold swirl around her feet the black ribbon of her bodice shining in the torchlight. Mahal she was beautiful.
"You may want to pine a little less obviously, Cousin." Thorin was startled when Dain flopped into the chair next to him; his breath sour from drink.
"I have no idea what you are talking about Dain." Thorin swirled the drink in his own goblet, trying and failing at nonchalance.
"Oh yes you do." He hiccupped "Not that anyone would blame you, she is rather comely with her copper hair and emerald eyes her dress fits her like a glove. I almost swallowed my tongue when I dipped her on our last set. Who knew hobbits were so ample?" he made a crude gesture.
Thorin growled and looked back to Billa and Balin. "Are you not married?"
"I am!" he boomed "Quite happily too, but that does not make Miss Baggins any less pretty or witty. If it weren't for the dedicated efforts of your company I think she would be swarmed by admirers this evening."
Dain was speaking the truth Thorin had seen the Company deflecting everyone from dancing with their hobbit by keeping her busy with them. As soon as the first dwarf had mustered the courage to seek her out at the head table she was dragged off by Kili for a rowdy tavern dance and she hadn't rested her feet yet.
"You should dance with her." Dain broke through his musings, "You know you want to!"
And he did. He wanted to dance with her more than anything, to wrap his hands around her waist and spin her about, see her eyes light up in laughter. Oh, how he wanted.
So deep was Thorin in his musings he never noticed Dain filling his wine cup up again and again and again. When Dain next asked him why he didn't dance with the hobbit, he had no good reason to stay seated and went to hunt down his hobbit.
He found her on the dance floor, spinning wildly about with Bofur, gold skirt flaring to reveal a hint of white petticoats and cheeks flushed from drink.
"Could I cut in?" his voice was a low rumble as the miner handed him Billa's hand and he in turn swept her away, "Are you enjoying yourself?"
"Oh Thorin, this is the best night" she was interrupted by a hiccup, "I have ever had!"
Thorin didn't hold back his smile at seeing her so happy and so deep in her cups, drunken hobbits are adorable.
They danced around the main hall to fast song and slow songs, sometimes they talked of life in the camp and how the mountain was progressing sometimes they just swayed together in silence. But as the evening turned to early morning Billa's feet seemed to get heavier and heavier.
"Why don't we get some air?" he asked her when she had stumbled for the fifth time, "There is a balcony off the hall."
"That sounds perfect" she was giggling up at him "I think I have had far too much drink this evening."
They both sighed when the cool night air caressed their faces, the dancing had been vigorous and they were both tired and warm.
It was Billa who broke their companionable silence, "For all the things I dreamed of when I was little I never quite imagined this." She turned away from the railing to look back at Thorin, "I never did thank you, did I?"
"And what, little hobbit" he walked towards her, stopping only when he could feel her breathing up towards his chin "have I done to deserve your thanks?" he hoped that the flushing of her cheeks was not just from the cold.
"You did not leave me. You may have tried to make me leave; you may have been rude and brash. You may have even wished for me to leave." her eyes rose to meet Thorin's and he could see her honesty shining through them, "But not once did you leave me behind and I am so grateful for that Thorin. I don't know what I would have done if you had left me in Rivendell or Beorn's or even in Bree." Her hands came up to rest on Thorin's chest, toying slightly with the fabric.
"Billa," he brought his hands up to cover hers "I cannot tell you how proud I am of you, how grateful I am for you." He took one step closer, trapping their hands between them, "I would have lost everything on this quest without you; my life" his voice was growing rougher and deeper and he could feel Billa shudder against him, please let it not be from cold, "the lives of my nephews," he tilted his head lower and he could see her lips were parted, breathing in the chilly air, "my kingdom" he brought his lips down towards her ear, "my soul." He certainly did not imagine the shudder that racked her frame with his last words. "I may never be able to repay you" he continued in her ear, his breath stirring the strands that had fallen from her elaborate braid, "but I would like to try."
Billa was frozen in her place as Thorin leaned closer and closer to her, slow invading her personal space. She couldn't bring herself to care, no matter how angry she may have been at him, maybe it was the wine or the joy of the evening but when his voice whispered into her ear she couldn't suppress her shudder, never had Thorin's voice sounded more thrilling. Before she understood what had happened he pressed a small bead into her hand and walked away.
Later when the party was over and dawn was creeping towards the mountain, she would look at the bead he pressed in her palm and wonder why he had kept her scholars bead for so many months.
And in a tent on the other side of camp a King would lay awake, thinking of flushed cheeks and soft hair and a small body shuddering against his.
Neither got much sleep that night.