AN: I don't own any of The Hobbit characters, I am just taking them out of Tolkien's toy box and playing with them.

With thanks to my Beta fierynightangel, who really is an angel and saves you from my horrendous spelling and grammar.

With thanks to FanFiction Queen, who made sure my Sindarin worked.

Chapter Fifty Two – A Learning Curve.

Bilbo crept away while Dwalin was occupied with showing the human child some fencing moves, using his nephews to illustrate the point. It was the perfect time for him to finish the gift he had been creating in return for Dwalin's courting bead. He slipped into the ladies quarters at Rivendell, and was greeted amicably by the several ladies lounging around the halls. Strangely, they saw him as little threat, and after he had explained the bead at the hollow of his throat and his intentions for being there, he had been welcomed with open arms. He settled by the table he had been allowed to work at, and delicately unrolled the unfinished garment from its protective fabric. He eyed the work carefully, and thought back to when he had found the material, to say he had been surprised to find clearly dwarven material in Rivendell had been an understatement, but he had claimed it joyously, and was allowed to use the whole batch in return for the recipe of his mother's sweet potatoes. The heavy, but beautiful, damask silk was in a deep rich green, and had formed the design of a hobbit's waistcoat without fault; he had respected Dwalin's colour choice, and lined it with a hobbitish taffeta of emerald green stripped black. Now that he had an afternoon to himself, he intended to finish the embroidery, add the pockets and buttons, which he had carved himself into decorative leaves of Serpentine Tiger's Eye that he had found while wandering the gardens of the Last Welcoming House. Humming a happy tune to himself, he set about his self-appointed task, relishing in the warm sunlight and gentle breeze he could feel, he doubted he would be missed until dinner that evening.

The dwarrows of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield were strangely happy to be spending their late morning and breakfast with the unusual human child and one of the elven twins. Thorin shook his head as he watched Bifur and Dwalin draw the human child, almost the same height as them, into a gentle (by dwarven standards) game of wrestling, with Ori and Kili cheering the child on. Fili and Bofur were sitting in a stripe of sunlight, and his eldest heir was slowly carving a block of wood into something, carefully following Bofur's gentle instructions. Bombur had once again claimed the attention of Elrohir, and Thorin found his eyes drawn to where the elf was clearly teaching the cook something, he narrowed his eyes as he examined their interactions, and relaxed when he found no hint of pity or condescension in the taller being. Satisfied, he allowed himself to look over the rest of his dwarves. Nori was sharpening his blades, for once seeming to relax in Gloin's company as the accountant dwarf bantered about the best way to truly sharpen a blade and showed true delight in the crafting that had created Nori's own daggers. Oin was lying on his front beside his brother, cheerfully ignoring the discussion going on beside him and alternating his attention between the wrestling match occurring in the centre of the room and a large book in front of him. Over on the far side of the indoor terrace, Dori was seated by Balin, the two discussing something with such similar looks of innocence that he shivered slightly, he knew the diplomat well enough to know innocent was not his default emotion. Dori was still relatively unknown to him, despite the eldest Ri's protective nature, good singing voice, and love of tea, and so the fact his expression mirrored Balin's exactly was a worry. He huffed a sigh, thinking it was maybe payback from the times he had stressed Balin out, or the many times Dori had come between the youngest two heirs of Durin and harm.

Unaware of Thorin's spiral of thoughts, Dori and Balin were actually discussing knitting patterns and the different uses of Melton and Loden wool. Both were keeping their faces blank in the hopes the other would slip somewhere, and while Dori was confident about his knowledge, he knew better than to underestimate the old diplomat that was Balin. Deciding to up the ante, Dori broke his innocent expression with a smirk and brought Merino wool into the discussion. Fighting back a larger smirk as Balin had to pause to gather together his own knowledge of the wool, Dori fingered the carmine wool he had stuffed behind the cushion as he had sat beside the white haired dwarf. His hazel eyes sparkled as Balin mumbled something that was unrelated to the topic of conversation, and he raised a careful eyebrow as the older dwarf huffed and gave up. He certainly hadn't expected to win their second round so easily, but he supposed he should be thankful Balin had brought up something that was his third passion in life. Making up his mind in a split second, Dori pulled the carmine wool from where he had been hiding it and in a practised move, draped it around Balin's neck. Smiling at the shocked look his conversation partner now supported, Dori pushed to his feet as he realised the time. Clapping his hands, he seamlessly managed to draw all attention to him as he walked away from Balin, "Now, I know everyone is having fun, but what do you all say to a bite of lunch?"

%

While his brothers were enjoying their time with the dwarves, Elladan was trying to convince Lindir to leave well enough alone. So far, he had managed to distract the elf eight times, and had physically dragged him down to a different area of Rivendell three times, and he was ready to admit defeat. The minstrel was as stubborn as a warg with a scent, and Elladan would readily admit his intellect was running out of ideas as to how to give Estel some much needed freedom. When it hit him, he nearly slapped his own head, stopping himself just before he did so, and spinning to pull a striding Lindir to a stop. "Lindir, daro!" he panted out, "Lasta enni. Ha innas na maer celu od ist an Estel." When Lindir's face turned contemplative, Elladan huffed a relieved sigh, even as he muttered under his breath, "Na lín galw Illuvatar, anno enni belt!"

Lindir nodded after thinking it over, "Bo neth dol na ha." Elladan sank against the wall behind him with a muttered oath as the minstrel swept into the library quarters, and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. Elrohir owed him for this. Now though, he needed several moments of stillness, and wasn't that a strange thought for him?

%

After a lunch of ham sandwiches and mugs of Dori's own special brew, Dwalin left the Company in search of his hobbit, a spring in his step and a smile on his face.

Elrohir had dragged Thorin and Estel into his lessons with Bombur, and the red haired dwarf had smiled warmly as the child managed to explain away the struggle he had been having with the placement of certain words. Thorin leant against Elrohir's side as they watched Bombur engage with the young one and the brilliant smiles the child gave in response.

Fili and Bofur managed to disappear off with their carving, while Ori and Kili smuggled Bilbo's careful notes out to the garden they had claimed as theirs to read further. Nori managed to goad Bifur into another sparring session, and they dragged a protesting Gloin and Oin along with them.

Left alone, Balin stared at the back of the dwarf who had beaten him hands down at his own game, and then rewarded him for losing it. The sweater Dori had knitted him was the exact same shade as his robe and decorated with detailed moss stitch and his own family's patterns around the hem. The jumper itself was rather light, and he suspected it would fit his form perfectly. The thought of Dori knowing his exact measurements brought a blush to his cheeks and a smile to his face as he pulled the gift over his head and buried his nose in the still hot Lime flower tea he had been poured at the end of their quick meal. Dori was indeed a puzzle that he would take great delight in unravelling, he just hoped he could win one of their verbal games.

%

Bilbo stretched, laying down the garment he had just finished the final stitch of embroidery in. Cracking his fingers and neck, he snickered at the winces from the few ladies still in the room, and stood with alacrity. Sweeping up his now finished work, he left the room with a deep bow of thanks.

He gently folded Dwalin's gift as he walked so the embroidered pocket was face up and the buttons carefully protected by the cloth. He was nervous about presenting what was a very hobbitish gift to his dwarf, and hoped it would be received in the intention he had intended it. As he stopped outside the communal area of the wing the dwarves had been gifted for their stay, he realised he had missed Dwalin, and huffed as his nerves crested. Shaking himself, he frowned slightly, the nerves would never do, and as he touched the bead that hung in the hollow of his throat, he straightened his shoulders and walked into his room. Deciding he couldn't cart the waistcoat all around Rivendell, he wrapped it carefully in his (now cleaned) spare leather, and set about sorting his pack out. After all, he knew they would be leaving soon, even if the rest of the Company hadn't been informed yet.

After carefully hiding the leather wrapped package, and satisfied he had packed what he could for now, Bilbo stepped from the bedroom, and headed for Thorin.

"Master Oakenshield?"

Startled blue eyes met his as the dwarf subtly moved away from where he had been leaning on the elf, El-something or other Bilbo thought, before paying attention to the now talking dwarf in front of him. "What can I help you with, Master Hobbit?"

Bilbo eyed the crown prince and raised an eyebrow at the almost polite tone in his voice, momentarily distracted with the idea of asking the elf to come with them to keep the dwarf in line, he smiled widely. "Ah, I was just wondering if you had seen Dwalin or Nori, Master Oakenshield. I am keen for another lesson with my blade." He gestured at the elven dagger attached to his hip as he talked, and found the elf smiling back at him.

Thorin frowned as he thought, and Bilbo watched as he unconsciously leant against the elf again. "I believe Dwalin left to look for yourself, Master Hobbit, where he currently is, I have no idea, but Nori and Bifur dragged Gloin and his brother to the training area."

Bilbo bowed shortly, "Thank you, most helpful." A thought struck him, and he turned to the elf, "Why have we never seen any of your kin there, Master Elf?"

Elrohir smiled widely again, "We have been practising for a few hundred years, little one. A few days with no practice will not harm us."

Bilbo snorted, "I wasn't talking just about Lord Elrond and yourself, Master Elf, I meant the rest of the elves here."

Elrohir's smile dropped, "We have few warrior's left, little one, and those who are fighters find they tire of sparring against the same opponents time and again." Bilbo waited as the elf found his words, "I suppose the rest are where Elladan and myself would be if we were not enjoying the new company that graces our home."

Thorin broke into their conversation as interest caught him, "And where would that be, Master Elrohir?"

The elf laughed, a sound similar to bells tolling in the distance, and looked directly at Thorin, "Why, out hunting Orc, Master Oakenshield."

Bilbo watched the two interact for several long moments, before moving away to find Nori and Bifur. After all, if the dwarf was letting him court Dwalin as he would, then it was not up to him to judge the new friendship the king in exile was developing.

He found only Bifur and Nori in the training area and watched them spar for several long moments, before clearing his throat to announce his presence. Bifur greeted him with a wide smile and Nori forwent greetings to drag him to the centre of the fenced area. Bilbo recognised the worry in the thief's eyes as similar to what Dwalin had expressed the previous day, and sighed huffily.

"I am not aiming to rush into things and get myself killed, Nori Rison." He snapped as he shrugged out of his waistcoat and dropped back into a fighting stance. Silence fell behind them as Bifur stopped his humming to watch, and Bilbo glowered angrily at a now livid Nori. "Do you really think I would make you watch someone else die if I can prevent it you Muzkhgrum? Leib thrag do …"

Nori cut across him, getting right into his face and practically snarling, "Ai leib doh, ohr thrag! Ut zazag utz vel utz dammaz!"

Bilbo whitened as he realised Nori still thought he was not to be trusted, "Ut abb do rorkaz den Skilami Nori?"

Nori snarled again, "Ohr nai kannag leib hurtag!"

Bilbo gasped and relaxed, drawing a struggling Nori into the circle of his arms. "Oh Nori." He felt Bifur join them, the toy maker's arms strong against both their shoulders and he allowed himself to sag slightly, "Nai Ohr leib."

They stood like that for several long moments, before Bifur drew Bilbo off to allow Nori time to collect himself and give the hobbit a chance to practice against someone new. The toy maker was surprised when Bilbo didn't hold back, and even more surprised when he realised, trained or not, the hobbit was a natural at dodging and moving to confuse his opponent.

When Nori joined them, Bilbo slid the blade into its sheath and beckoned with his left hand. The thief gave a whoop of delight and threw himself into hand to hand combat.

%

Dwalin was the first of the missing members of the Company to arrive back, and the scowl on his face sent a shiver down Thorin's back. Yet even as he unconsciously shifted to get between his friend and the elf, Dwalin's face softened, and he followed the warrior's gaze to where Estel was sleeping, buried against Bombur's side. Smiling softly himself, he nudged Elrohir, and once he had the elf's attention, pointed at the sleeping human. Rolling his eyes, Elrohir stood gracefully and swooped to pick his little brother up in his arms. Careful not to overly jostle the human child, who wrapped his legs and arms around the warmth of his brother, the elf bowed slightly and left the dwarves with a soft "goodnight."

Before Thorin could ask what was wrong, Fili bounced into the area with a smile on his face and laughter falling from his lips. Thorin felt his mouth drop as he realised his blonde heir was wearing Bofur's hat, and before he had time to ponder why, the miner had caught up and tackled Fili with a laughing yell. As they wrestled on the floor, they offered enough distraction that a blushing Kili managed to slip into his room, shortly followed by a grinning Ori.

By the time they were joined by a grumbling Gloin and Oin, Thorin had noticed Balin's jumper, as Dwalin had loudly drawn attention to it, and was even praising Dori's work fervently. Balin flushed again, and swatted at his brother's hands, although he did throw the tea merchant a wide smile and mouthed thank you. Dori's grin, Thorin noticed, made him look several decades younger, and he felt a finger of dread as he realised he may have finally discovered just where Nori learnt some of his tricks.

As if Thorin's thoughts had summoned him, Nori's voice wafted over the gathering. "Well, Dori, looks like you have been rumbled."

Dori merely grinned and dragged his eyes over his brother's dusty and messy form, "Looks like you got your arse handed to you on a platter."

Bifur's delighted laughter rang out as Nori grinned back, "Now stop that, brother, you will make our Crown Prince faint." Dori shook his head and Nori's grin widened, "As to an answer to your comment, I think we definitely need to have a distraction."

Dori caught on immediately, and his eyes flew to where Bilbo was standing silently behind Dwalin, before he settled them on Nori's brilliant green ones, and smirked evilly. "Oh, I am way ahead of you, brother."

Gandalf had the misfortune of walking onto the terrace in time to hear Bilbo's answering quip, "I do believe you have both achieved the impossible, and made Master Oakenshield faint."

AN:

Translations.

(Sindarin to English).

Lindir, daro! – Lindir, stop!

Lasta enni – Listen to me.

Ha innas na maer celu od ist an Estel. - It will be a good source of knowledge for Estel.

Na lín galw Ilúvatar, anno enni belt!– By thy blessing Ilúvatar (Eru), give me strength!

Bo neth dol na ha– On young heads be it.

(Khudzul to English).

Muzkhgrum – Blast furnace slag, also used as an insult.

Leib thrag do … – you dare to …

Ai leib doh, ohr thrag!–Yes you fool, I dare!

Ut zazag utz vel utz dammaz!- We remember our history and our losses!

Ut abb do Rorkaz den Skilami Nori? – We're to have informal shouting contest Master Nori?

Ohr nai kannag leib hurtag!– I do not wish/see you hurt!

Nai ohr leib. – Nor I you.

*LODEN WOOL

Loden wool originated in the Tyrolean Alps in the 16th century, and is still highly popular among sportsmen. Loden is characterized by a slightly 'greasy' feeling, and is frequently used to make heavy coats. Loden's luxurious nap is combed downward, creating a shingle effect that sheds water very effectively.

*MELTON WOOL

Melton wool fibers are thick with a smooth exterior surface. Due to the finishing processes that completely conceals the weave, this type of wool makes very solid cloth. Melton wool is durable, water-resistant, and wind resistant. The thickest weights of Melton wool are often used to make heavy outerwear, including jackets and wool pants. Thinner weights are used to make sweaters and socks.

*MERINO

Cultivated from merino sheep, this type of wool has superior shine, incredible softness, and great breathability, along with an excellent warmth-to-weight ratio. Merino has a nearly pure white color that accepts dye very well. It's also very strong, naturally elastic, and soft against the skin. Merino wool doesn't have the coarse, itchy feel of standard wool because merino fibers are much finer than standard sheep's wool.

The vast majority of merino sheep are raised in the mountainous regions of Australia and New Zealand. Today, there are more than ten different varieties of merino sheep worldwide. Some well-known breeds include Australian, Peppin, Saxony, Rambouillet, Vermont, and South African.