Within the hour, all the dwarves were settled at the dinner table. Billa was busy flitting around, chatting with her dwarves and getting all the food on the table. There was quite a bit of chaos, but that was only to be expected.

Thorin and Dís had both refused to sit down until after she was seated, but she had given them both large mugs full of tea with a splash of moonshine. They had quickly gone to their places at the table and started to relax.

The boys were doing what they normally did - making a mess of things, with only the best of intentions, of course. They were currently trying to clear the table so that the rest of the food could be placed upon it. However, their version of clearing the table was eating the food that was already there, and putting the dirty dishes in the kitchen to be re-filled.

Unfortunately, it had taken longer than she would have preferred to realize what was happening, but once she did, they had both been dragged by their ears back into the dining room. The sight was met with several pairs of wide eyes, and then much snickering, Thorin being the loudest and most distinct. His nearness to her did nothing to prevent the slap that graced the back of his skull.

Such an action was greeted with more laughter, Bofur's ringing above the rest.

She left soon after, and it was quite a bit of time until she was ready to sit down at her seat at the head of the table.

Once she did, Dori immediately set upon her. Last time she saw him, he had been seated towards the back of the table with his brothers, but now he was on her right at the front of the table, directly across from Thorin.

"Your majesty."

She tried her best to suppress the resulting sigh, but she failed and the resulting sound was a mix between the dreaded sigh and a groan that was hopefully too low for him to hear. Thankfully, even if Dori did here, he showed no outward reaction.

"Dori, it's Billa."

He chuckled.

He found this humourous. Proper Dori, who she held quite a bit of affection for, wasn't even holding to the laws and traditions so much for his beliefs as for entertainment.

"Dori."

"Sorry. Well, Billa, I can't help but to overhear - is it true that you are with child?"

"Dori, I'm fairly certain you've been directly told. But yes, it is true that I am with child."

"Oh dear, this is just the most lovely of news."

She smiled, an expression that was quickly mirrored in Dori's face.

"I remember when Ori was but a babe himself, it seems like so long ago, but at the same time it seems like it was just yesterday. And now I have to worry about him and that Gíldri fellow."

"Dori, you do understand that Gíldri has my utmost respect.'

Before Dori could reply, she felt a familiar hand rest on her shoulder, as well as an equally familiar curtain of hair brush her cheek.

"He has mine as well."

"I'm sure that he does, my king, it's just that Ori's my little brother. I'm sure you understand, what with Fíli and Kíli, and now with the little one on the way…"

"Fortunately, neither of my nephews have had many entanglements with the fairer race other than a dance here or there when an occasion called for it. Sometimes I do worry, but most of the time I choose not to let it bother me. Now, as for the little one, well, that is something I have some time before I must worry."

"Time that goes by rather quickly."

"I am sure you speak nothing but truth. Now, I can't help but notice that Balin seems to be attempting to catch you attention."

"Is he now?"

"Yes, he is."

Dori was soon out of his seat, walking towards the direction where Balin was talking with his brother.

She hadn't been paying enough attention to know if Thorin spoke truth or not, but at the moment she didn't truly care. Billa was quietly revelling in the joy of her smial full of rowdy dwarves, her husband at her side, and a child in her belly.

Dís has quietly been refilling her mug with fresh tea throughout the evening, and it greatly kept her mind off of the problems at hand. She could stay like this, for an indefinite amount of time. Before her adventure, she would have prefered nothing more than to sit in the peace and quiet, curled up in her armchair with a hot mug of tea and a book of elvish poems. Despite the nagging feeling she never quite had the name for, she believed herself to be happy as she was.

What Billa now knew was that the nagging feeling was in fact loneliness.

With her dwarves, that nagging feeling had gone away. She hadn't properly realized it until she had returned to the Shire the first time, and since then, she hope for nothing more than for the feeling to never, ever return.

After about an hour of sitting around the table, talking over empty plates and full stomachs, they have moved to the den. There really wasn't enough furniture to house everyone, but they didn't let that stop them. Fíli and Kíli had appropriated the floor in front of the hearth, and were lounging against one another comfortably. She and Thorin had take the small sofa, with her leaning against his side, her feet tucked into her own side. Dís was in one of the arm chairs, with Dwalin in the other. The others had all taken up any open spots on the floor against the wall, forming a circle of sorts.

There were many tales and songs. and when the dwarves slowly filed out of her home, she couldn't escape the fairly solemn feeling that settled over her.

They were happy now, relaxed and comfortable. The Shire was a very different atmosphere than Erebor, and it broke her heart that they were too leave it so soon.