"Do you remember your wedding?" Kili asked Dis as she finished tying her eldest son's golden hair.

"Do I? So I should think." Dis grinned at the memories. "Your uncles challenged him to a dance-off and tripped him up so that he lost."

Fili looked, scandalised, over at Thorin. "Uncle!"

"It was Frerin's fault!" Thorin defended. "I was tricked into it."

"I thought it was hilarious." Dis said. "Besides, your father got his revenge." She turned her attention to her youngest, who immediately shied away. "Kili?"

"Tauriel's doing it," Kili explained.

Dis fought a smile. "Can I do your family braid, then?"

Nori couldn't stop snickering as he watched his youngest brother getting fought over by Dwalin and Dori. Poor Ori stood between them, both holding tightly onto his shoulders, bickering loudly.

"Let me do his hair!"

"I'm his brother!"

"Mother, more like!" Dwalin snapped. "For Mahal's sake, I'm his intended..."

"Um, excuse me?" Ori interrupted. "But can I choose?"

With a last suspicious glare to the other, Dwalin and Dori released Ori and looked expectantly down at Ori.

The scribe immediately wandered over to Nori. "Will you do it, please?"

Grinning rather smugly over at the two rejected Dwarrows, Nori nodded. "I'd be honoured, nadad."

As he settled into the routine of folding the soft locks together, Nori suddenly felt old. His younger brother was indeed growing up now. Soon he wouldn't need any of his brothers to sort his braids or even to do anything for him. Threading the last purple ribbon through the last plait, he felt as though he was undoubtedly going to miss his brother.

Ori's bright smile chased away the moment of sorrow he felt. "Thanks, Nori!"

As his brother went off arm-in-arm with Dwalin, Nori sighed. "Why does he have to get married?"

"Lucky him to get the chance at all." Dori muttered.

Nori looked over at his older sibling, his sharp eyes catching sight of something pale pink and glowing around Dori's finger. "You're wearing her ring."

"Always do at weddings." Dori's expression turned faraway. "I wore it at Amad's last wedding."

The Dwarrowdam whose ring Dori now wore had been the blacksmith's daughter, Abkund . Feisty and free-spirited, with deep hazel eyes and hair the colour of the gold band that bore the pink jewel of the ring, she had been a beauty and could wield a sword as well as any warrior. Dori had loved her in his younger years and the two had been courting for a short few months before Smaug came.

He always remembered her last words to him. "I will see you soon, âzyungel."

Dori never did see her again.

He grieved for her, the lovely nithel who owned his heart. His brothers were dependant on him, so he never would allow himself to fade, but neither did he let her memory fade either. Wearing the rose quartz ring helped him sit through weddings. Sometimes he would pretend that she was with him and that helped.

"Dori?"

Shaking himself out of his memories, Dori looked over at Nori. "Yes?"

Somewhat sheepishly (and cursing his tender side), Nori asked, "will you braid my hair?"

Something was bothering his One, though Thorin couldn't think what. He was biting away at his lip and once or twice, Thorin caught him staring into the fire as if it were taunting him.

"Mo sanâzyung?"

No answer. Thorin walked over and lightly nudged him. "Bilbo?"

"Mm?"

"What's troubling you, ghivashel?"

"Nothing," Bilbo answered. "Don't worry."

He walked away, entering the bathroom and filling the bath-tub with hot spring-water, staring into the bubbling depths.

How was it that he didn't even miss his own home? What happened?

He flicked the tap off and dipped a toe into the water, feeling the light curls of steam tickling his calf, before deciding it was fine and stripping himself of the clothes he wore, he stepped into the tub and sighed as the hot water enveloped his body. Closing his eyes briefly, he sharply jumped as he heard the door close. Opening his eyes, he didn't know whether to be amused or appalled at who he saw standing before him.

"Thorin!"

"Hello," Thorin greeted calmly, though his eyes twinkled with something Bilbo couldn't pinpoint.

"For the love of- get out!"

"But I want to talk with you." Thorin said.

"One of us is naked. We are not married yet. Please go away, before- Put your shirt back on!"

Thorin ignored this. Of course. Bilbo frowned. "This is not appropriate."

Thorin shrugged. "We've seen each other like this before." And then he took his trousers off.

Bilbo buried his head in his hands. "I can't believe this is happening."

"You should know better than to keep a secret from a Durin," Thorin told Bilbo, joining him in the bath. "Come now, we're not doing anything wrong..."

"I don't understand you Dwarves at all!" Bilbo interrupted. "You can't hug or kiss whomever you're courting in front of others unless you're married, but this-" he gestured from himself to Thorin, "is alright? This is acceptable?"

"Yes," Thorin replied. "We're not doing anything.. sexual. Now turn around."

Bilbo's eyes narrowed. "What did you just-"

Thorin, realising his mistake, shook his head. "I mean so I can wash your hair for you."

Muttering words of doubt that that had been what Thorin meant, Bilbo complied.

"Tell me," Thorin said having dampened Bilbo's hair, "what has been bothering you?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me," Thorin insisted, squeezing apple-scented hair oil onto Bilbo's head.

"I don't miss home at all."

"Hmm."

"At all. You'd think I'd miss everything, but..."

"I understand."

"How? You've missed your home-"

"The Blue Mountains. Birthplace of my two nephews. I hold many cherished memories there. I do not miss it."

"You always had Erebor on your mind." Bilbo pointed out.

"I have," Thorin admitted, pouring giant handfuls of water onto his One's scalp. "But during the early days of our quest, I missed the Mountains. I missed family, the people, the place itself."

"But you no longer miss it now?"

"Not much." Thorin answered. "Life will always distract us somehow. Life here has distracted me from missing the Blue Mountains and you your Shire."

"I should miss it."

"Your stories of home didn't always sound happy, if you don't mind my saying," Thorin said, passing Bilbo a block of cinnamon-scented soap. "An argumentative family, few friends except for the gardener who lived next door and his kin, only a small drinking-house... Did you never get bored?"

"I didn't," Bilbo told him. "Though I imagine I'd get bored quite easily now!" Tugging at one of Thorin's braids, he motioned for the Dwarf to turn around. "Let me do you now."

Slightly raising an eyebrow at Bilbo's command, Thorin did so, passing him orange-scented hair oil.

"Don't turn around, I'm standing up." Bilbo warned.

"Nothing I've not seen before."

"I'd rather you waited," Bilbo retorted rubbing some of the liquid into Thorin's head. "Thorin, is it wrong to not miss home?"

"I don't believe so." Thorin answered. "Truly, home is where your heart is."

"Is it?"

"Mmm." Thorin reached up and placed his larger hands on top of Bilbo's. "Home isn't just a roof over your head and a place to sleep. It's a place of safety and somewhere to be surrounded by those you love."

"I suppose... I suppose I am home after all." Bilbo murmured.

To this, Thorin simply smiled.

There were only a few skirts inside the gown, which Primula was highly pleased with. She disliked having skirts bashing into her legs and getting in the way of walking or running.

The dress was white, of a soft, lacy material and was mercifully short, yet long enough to be considered decent. It hung to her ankles and lightly brushed over her feet without causing problems with movement. Around this underskirt(?) hung a length of golden yellow silk that fell lower than the white lace had done, creating a train effect.
The bodice was also white and had, stitched carefully over it, a flower, made from pieces of green silk and golden lace. She recognised it immediately as a Goldenrod flower. The sleeves were short and puffy, covering only her shoulders, their colour the same golden as the rest of the gown.

She played with her hair, pushing the deep red curls behind her shoulders, pinning them with little golden clips that Ori had left her. She caught sight of the thin gold ring that she would be placing on Drogo's finger in just a few hours and picked it up with trembling fingers.

"You love Drogo, Drogo loves you. You're going to live happily with him and have lots of little ones one day," she recited, closing her eyes and trying to quell the sickening sense of worry she felt jolt through her. "No need to be nervous."

The gold band gleamed softly up at her when she opened her eyes. It was never-ending, the circle, and it was very obvious, in that moment, that she and Drogo would remain married, together, for the whole of their lives.

And with that thought, she strangely didn't feel so nervous anymore.

"You look so wonderful."

Oddly, it wasn't Kili who said that to Tauriel. Nor was it Tauriel who said that to Kili.

In fact, it was Bofur rather smilingly informing Fili of this, much to the blonde's amazement. Not that Bofur wasn't always complimentary, but..well. He'd never had it said so sincerely before. He stood still for a long moment, staring into the depths of Bofur's brown eyes, before grinning and telling him he didn't scrub up so badly himself.

"Now remember," Fili warned, wagging a mock-warning finger at Bofur, "no dancing on the tables, no shouting out to the groom he's making a mistake-"

Bofur chuckled. "Wanted to do that yerself, did you?"

Fili grinned. "Might've crossed my mind a couple of times."

"Crossed your mind? More like danced around it!"

"Tssh. Hey, let me look at your braid."

Bofur tipped up his hat and smiled, feeling Fili's gentle fingers run along the braid. "Fili, when d'you want to get married?"

"Haven't give it much thought," Fili admitted. "I'd like to, but as for when.."

Bofur kissed his cheek. "No sense rushing these things, eh?"

"Aye," Fili agreed, clasping Bofur's hand. "No sense at all."

"Hobbits wear bright colours, chiefly yellow and green."

- J.R.R Tolkien, The Hobbit

He said something pertaining to that. I can't quite remember what, but he most definitely said that Hobbits like to wear yellows and greens.

The Goldenrod flower is meant to symbolise encouragement and precaution. It is also a gorgeous golden-yellow colour. I just had to have Primula wearing a yellow-coloured dress, especially to complement Drogo's purple . Yeah, I'm a sap for this kind of stuff.

Turns out I made an error ( I know, big shock there!)

Amad- Khuzdul for 'Mother' not 'Mathair' (maybe Mathair could mean 'mum' or 'mummy'?)

Adad- Khuzdul for 'Brother' not 'Braithair'

Akbund- The Dawn

Sanâzyung - Perfect True Love

Ghivashel- Treasure of All Treasures