It took far less time than any of them had predicted for life in Bag End to reach a kind of equilibrium. The vast majority of the delay could be attributed to the fact that everyone wanted to make everyone else free welcome. Thorin wanted to make certain that both Peony and his sister felt at home and so refused to state preferences on anything, leading to him spending most of his time as the forge or seeing to the ground work for the new settlement. Frodo and Peony had already made their peace with one another, but with the inclusion of his uncle, Thorin, and Dís, that had been disrupted.
Peony had never before shared a home with dwarves, unlike the rest of the group, but was determined not to make waves even in the face of strange customs for the sake of her future in the household. She wanted to make sure that she was so useful that they couldn't imagine life without her. Part of her still couldn't believe that Bilbo and his mate wanted to include her in their-she continued to have to remind herself that wasn't hers, at least not in the eyes of the law-child's life. Not once the child weaned and there was easier rid of her, at any rate.
It was with that knowledge driving her that, despite the fact that she was nearing the end of her time, she took on all the housework she could accomplish. That is until Dís, with Thorin's full backing, put an end to it.
"You need your rest," the dwarf dam said, all but backing the hobbit lass into a chair before placing her feet on a stool.
"I'm fine," she insisted, trying to summon up the energy to rise from what was, undeniably, a comfortable position.
"If not for you than for the babe," Dís countered, knowing Peony would have no argument for that. "You'll have your work cut out for you soon enough, lass. Don't over tax yourself on housework. The lads have to do some of the work for this babe after all." The last was nearly whispered and delivered with a wink as though it was a great conspiracy. Peony had to laugh at that.
"All right," she sighed. "But just for a moment." Dís nodded and turned back to doing the dishes. When she glanced back, just she'd suspected, the hobbit lass was taking an impromptu nap. She couldn't stop her fond smile at the memory of her brother and husband forcing her to do the same all those years ago.
The memory was followed by and ache in her breast. Time, and the move, had made it less frequent but had done nothing to dull the sting when it came. She sent up a silent prayer to The Maker that the lass' tale would have a happier outcome than her own. Though being as the babe was a hobbit, she didn't see how it couldn't.
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Once the ground rules were hashed out, the only person not entirely pleased with the arrangement was Bilbo. That's not to say that he was unhappy with Peony or Dís' addition to their home. He wasn't. They were both lovely people, as were Thorin and Frodo. It was just that there were now so many of them. True, more people had been in Bag End before, but they were guests not residents of undetermined duration.
Never before had so many people called the place home. And for a long-confirmed bachelor who only a short time ago believed that he would spend his days in relative solitude, the change was daunting. So much so, in fact, that he took to spending much of his time in either his room or his study leaving poor Frodo to contend with the ladies in search of a bit of time to himself.
It was during one of his searches for solitude that Thorin came home unexpectedly one day.
"So it is true," the dwarf said from the door, causing Bilbo to jump, splattering ink across the page. He was a bit surprised that Thorin was home as he hadn't been spending much more than meals and sleep there since they had returned.
"What's true?" the hobbit asked, dabbing at the page, a bit put out and surprised by the condemnation he could hear in the other's tone. It wasn't as if Thorin didn't know he was working on a memoir-that had been complete prior to requiring a massive revision, thank you very much. Seeing him working on it surely didn't deserve that tone.
"That you spend your days hiding in your room," Thorin replied, his voice weary. He hated that his decisions had led to Bilbo hiding in his own home. And no one could deny that inviting Dís had been his plan, as had extending a permanent invitation to Peony.
"Our room," Bilbo corrected, nearly absently. "And I'm not hiding." Thorin raised an eyebrow, unconvinced of the statement, to which Bilbo scoffed. "I'm not hiding," he insisted. "Everyone knows I'm here or they couldn't have told you. It's not hiding. I'm . . . I'm seeking solitude."
"A very eloquent word for hiding," Thorin sighed, moving to sit beside his hobbit. "I can ask Dís to move. As soon as I can build her a new home to her liking."
"No!" Bilbo said, placing his hand on Thorin's knee. "She's family. You're the only one she has left. You can't ask that of her."
"And I can't ask this of you," Thorin countered. "I can't reduce you to hiding in one room when you have your parent's entire home to choose from."
"I don't stick to one room," Bilbo argued. "I come out for meals and then go back to either our room or my study to work on my book. Just as I've done for years. Ask Frodo."
"I did," Thorin replied, his tone wry, "And he said that you used to spend most of your time in the chair by the fireplace in the winter and in the window seat overlooking the garden in the spring and summer. Not your bedroom." Bilbo shifted a bit at that. He hadn't expected that Thorin had spoken to Frodo about this already, though, who else would have run tattling to his mate about his hiding.
"I suppose my habits have changed a bit," the hobbit sighed. "It's just . . . there are so many people here now, Thorin. I can't even hear myself think, let alone gather my thoughts to write."
"What are you even working on?" Thorin asked, wondering what was so important that Bilbo would hide away rather than spend time with people that were quite fond of him.
"Our story," Bilbo replied. "No one will ever believe it later otherwise. They'll think it was changed over time as it was told, just like they do old Bullroarer Took's. I want them to know."
"They'll think that anyway, love," Thorin sighed, ruffling the hobbit's hair. "After all, who is going to believe the events of the quest alone, not to mention my coming back from the dead? Even if it's written, no one will believe it who hasn't lived it. You and I both know it's just an excuse. Why are you really hiding."
"I miss having time for me," Bilbo said honestly, leaning into Thorin's shoulder with a sigh. "When it was just me and Frodo, well the lad would go play and I could do as I wished without having to wonder what people would think of it. Now . . . there are so many eyes, Thorin. And ears. I don't . . . there's no privacy."
"Is that what this is about?" Thorin asked with a laugh. "Privacy? And what, exactly, are you needing privacy for, Bilbo? Something lascivious, perhaps?"
"Oh, you!" Bilbo scoffed, pulling away and swatting Thorin. "That's not all I think about."
"But it is something you do," Thorin purred, his breath tickling the hobbit's ear. "And it has been some time. What with the travel and the company. No wonder you're frustrated with the situation."
"That's not funny, Thorin," Bilbo said batting at him again. "I've gone much longer than this before. I'm not a tween. I have some restraint. My mood is not tied directly to sexual release." Thorin didn't point out that Bilbo had quite a reputation for being crotchety, instead, he pulled the hobbit back into a hug, which Bilbo only resisted for a moment before melting into him.
"I never said it was, Gishavel," Thorin whispered into his hair. " I was merely offering an easy solution to the problem." Bilbo shook his head, pressing his forehead to Thorin's neck.
"They'll hear," he muttered sadly.
"Not if we're not here," Thorin replied, Bilbo pulled back and looked up at him in shock.
"If you think we're going to the Green Dragon and renting a room to . . . That's actually worse," Bilbo scoffed. "I mean, everybody knows, not that I mind. Of course, I don't! I am quite fond of you and. . . we're adopting a babe together so they already know but . . . that's private. Hobbits don't . . . we don't. . ."
"I know, Bilbo," Thorin cut him off, stroking his face, his blue eyes sad at the reminder of how ashamed Bilbo had been of his attraction to Thorin. "I remember. I wasn't suggesting anything of the sort. I . . . there's a clearing I've found on my walks. Very peaceful. Secluded even. The perfect place to seek solitude . . . together."
"I think you and I have very different meanings of the word if you think it can involve more than one person," Bilbo replied, shaken by their conversation and not seeing that Thorin was only referring to the inn being out of the question. It was only Thorin's raised eyebrow and the suggestive way he was stroking his thigh that made him put two and two together. "Oh! Solitude, together, I see. A secluded clearing, you say? I think, perhaps, we should picnic. Food, a hike, a blanket. Just like old times. Make a day of it. That is, if you think you're up to it."
"My dear hobbit," Thorin countered. "I think you will find that I am more than up for the occasion."
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So sorry that this took so long. Life's been . . . no nice words here. Only busy, hectic and wonderful at the same time. I hope this finds you all well and that you enjoy this new chapter.
Stickdonkeys
