"Have you completely lost your mind? He threw you out of Erebor! Into a battle no less! Are you forgetting how miserable you were on the journey back? For Mahal's sake, you almost died giving birth!"
Fili punctuated the last comment with a wild sweep of his arm and Bilba flinched at the show of anger. Kili was several feet away, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a worried expression on his face, his eyes flickering between her and Fili.
It had been several days since she'd woken and, in that time, her courage had managed to utterly fail her when it had come to telling the boys about her decision to return to Erebor. In the end she hadn't had to as both had noticed Thorin's sudden ease with coming to her room to see his sons, as well as the few times he'd sought her out to talk to her.
They'd shown up about ten minutes earlier to confront her about it and, as she'd feared, were not taking it well.
"He didn't know about the battle," she insisted, "or that I was pregnant. And I would have nearly died regardless of whether he'd exiled me or not. I'd have probably been in more danger in Erebor than with the elves who have more experience and training in difficult births."
Fili looked incredulous. "Are you defending him now? Are you saying what he did was right?"
"No," Bilba said in exasperation, "but I am saying he can't be blamed for every single thing that happened."
"That's not what you've been saying since we left," Kili said, speaking up for the first time since the two had shown up in her room.
Bilba sent him a betrayed look and refocused on Fili. The three of them were currently the only ones in the room. Thorin had asked to take the twins out to the gardens and she'd allowed him. It was the first time she'd sent them off together alone and it had been difficult watching them leave without her. She'd had to remind herself they were safe in Rivendell and Thorin deserved time to bond with them just as she'd had.
"I already explained that," Bilba said, "It was that ring. As soon as it was gone it felt like my mind cleared."
An odd expression flashed in Fili's eyes, but was gone so fast Bilba wasn't able to place it. She almost thought it had been guilt but dismissed it. What could he possibly have to feel guilty about?
"Did he talk to you?" she asked. "He said he was going to."
His eyes narrowed. "Do you mean did he try to buy my forgiveness by reinstating me as heir? Yeah, he mentioned it." His voice was nearly dripping with sarcasm as he spoke and Bilba felt her heart sink. In the year and a half since they'd been gone Fili's anger had taken root deep inside him and she could see now just how hard it would be to dislodge it.
"He's not trying to buy your forgiveness," she said, holding up her hands helplessly, "he's trying to atone."
"You don't know that!" Fili shouted. "As far as you know this is all part of some damn scheme he has!"
"To what end?" Bilba retorted, her own voice rising. "What possible goal could he have that would involve him leaving Erebor and swearing himself to me? Not to mention you're the one who said Mahal wouldn't have allowed him to do it under false pretenses!"
"She's right," Kili said, breaking in. "He can't do anything under false pretenses."
"She forgave him," Fili snapped, turning toward Kili. "It no longer applies."
"It does," Kili insisted. "He rejected the apology, or put it off for a year I guess. That leaves it still technically intact. Besides, if this had been his plan from the beginning it would mean he initiated the pact under a falsehood. Mahal would have struck him down."
"I don't believe this," Fili said, "Now you're defending him too? Has everyone in this place lost their mind?"
"What is this really about?" Bilba asked helplessly. "You know as well as I do he was affected, at least in part, by that ring he had. It doesn't excuse what he did after you took it from him but he's apologized, he's trying to make amends, and I believe he's being genuine. You're not even willing to consider it though. Why? And don't say it's just what he did to me. I'm not stupid. This goes far deeper than that. What is it, Fili? What's the real reason you're so angry?"
Fili shook his head and let out a disbelieving laugh. "The whole world has gone completely mad, you know that? First we get exiled from Erebor, then the Shire, then the Mahal damned Nazgul show up and now, suddenly, you're all for forgiving Thorin and going back to Erebor with him!"
"I'm going back to Dale, not Erebor," Bilba corrected, "but, yes, back to a place where Ash and Frerin will be guaranteed to have a roof over their heads, to have food when they're hungry," She stumbled as she said the last part, a twinge of pain hitting her. Though Elrond had done what he could the wound to her shoulder refused to heal entirely. This suggested some remnant of the knife's poison remained within her and, as long as it did, she couldn't risk passing it to the twins by nursing them. So now she fed them with the goat's milk the elves provided, severing a link she hadn't been ready to cut. She took a deep breath before continuing, "They'll have other people who can look after them if something happens." She looked at Fili. "Not to mention I'm sure your mother would appreciate seeing the two of you again."
Kili shifted, his eyes going toward Fili, who remained quiet.
Bilba pressed on. "What would you have us do instead? Wander in the wild? Try to find work in Bree while caring for two infants?"
"We can stay here until they're older," Fili said, some of the heat gone from his voice. "The elves won't mind."
Bilba raised an eyebrow. "You want to raise them here, establish a home for them, and let them make friends, feel safe and connected, and then rip it all away for a life on the road?"
The more she found herself arguing the more the uncertainty she'd had about going back with Thorin faded. Being exiled from the Shire had hurt but had also left her excited at the thought of seeing the world but she was beginning to realize just how selfish and immature a thought that had been. Such a life would have been fine for her. She could live with uncertainty of where her next meal would come, if she'd be able to find shelter in bad weather, if danger would threaten her on the road.
There was no way she could have put her sons through it though. They needed, and deserved, stability. They deserved to know where their next meal was coming from, where they'd sleep at night.
Perhaps when the boys got older she could travel, even take them with her and show them the world, but it would be done right, safely, with the knowledge home waited at the end of every journey.
She couldn't think of her own wants anymore, couldn't pretend she was free as she'd once been.
Her sons needed a home.
She would give them one.
Fili was studying her, a mix of emotions warring in his eyes. He clearly wanted to keep arguing but also could obviously see what she'd said made sense.
He opened his mouth to say something, only to snap it shut again as a knock sounded on her door.
Grateful for the distraction, Bilba hurried over to open it.
An elf was standing there, looking like he'd much rather be anywhere rather than where he currently was. Bilba didn't recognize him but that wasn't so unusual, elves were always coming and going from Rivendell. She did feel a flash of embarrassment that their argument had clearly been heard outside the room, probably not leaving a great first impression on those who didn't know them all that well.
"I'm sorry to bother you, my Lady," he said, "but Lord Elrond wished to speak with you, immediately."
Bilba nodded. "Of course. If you'll excuse me for just one moment?"
He gave a short bow and she quickly shut the door before turning to face Fili and Kili again.
She took a deep breath, trying to center herself and then said, "If we stay here we aren't leaving, or at least I'm not, not until Ash and Frerin are adults capable of making their own choices. That means we'd be stuck here for at least the next thirty years, if not longer. Is that what you really want? You were miserable during our last stay and it wasn't even one year. Not to mention you'll be separated from your mother and a title that rightfully belongs to you."
Kili frowned. "Wait, are you saying now you want to stay?"
Fili blinked in surprise. "What?"
"I don't want to stay." Bilba snapped. "But you're asking me to choose between you and Thorin." Here an edge entered her voice. "If that's the case, then I choose you. You've earned that much, several times over."
She stepped forward, until she was inches away from him, forced to look up to meet his eye. "But when those boys get old enough to ask where their father is and why he isn't around you're going to be the one to explain it to them, not me."
Fili flinched. "That's not-"
"Don't you dare," Bilba hissed, cutting him off. "Don't you dare tell me it isn't fair."
She shook her head then spun on one heel and marched out of the room without looking back, shutting the door behind her with a bit more force than absolutely necessary.
The elf was standing a few feet away. Bilba gave a tight smile and fell in alongside him as he started walking. "Sorry about that."
The elf shrugged. "Families often argue, it is the way of things."
"True," Bilba agreed. She clenched her hands into fists and focused on slowing down her breathing, letting her anger bleed out of her. "I imagine among the elves they probably don't get quite as loud."
He smiled. "You might be surprised. You should heard some of the fights Elrond's children get into sometimes. I am Amrod, by the way. I never met you when you were here last though I have heard much about you. The young Halfling who left her home to take on a dragon for a people not her own. It is quite impressive."
Bilba laughed. "I've heard some of the tales that have been springing up. They all seem to involve me killing Smaug singlehandedly with a dagger. I recall it quite differently, with far more screaming and running."
Amrod smiled. "Tales do seem to grow larger with each telling. Eventually you'll probably find you don't even recognize yourself in them."
"I already don't," Bilba said dryly.
As they had talked Amrod had led them deeper into Rivendell, away from the areas commonly seen by outsiders and into the inner courts where only the elves ever went. They rounded a corner and entered one of the larger buildings. Inside it was empty and, as they walked, Bilba noticed most of the rooms they passed appeared to be ones she'd typically see in someone's personal dwelling rather than a space meant for the public.
"Is this someone's home?"
Amrod nodded. "Lord Elrond's. He both lives and conducts official business here."
"Oh," Bilba said in surprise. She'd never been to Elrond's home in all the time she'd stayed in Rivendell, staying instead in the outer courts reserved for visitors.
For the first time an uneasy feeling began to stir in her gut. "Did he happen to mention why he wanted to see me?"
"No," Amrod said, shaking his head. "He did not. We're almost there though."
They rounded a corner and Bilba saw they were heading out the rear of the building. Instead of it simply being forest, however, there was instead a large raised dais. Stone chairs ringed it, spaced at regular intervals, and a large column of stone rose from the center. The woods surrounded it on the far side, trees crowding right up to the stone while large statues loomed over it. It created an area that was both open and secluded at the same time.
Elrond and Glorfindel were standing in the center, deep in conversation with two other figures. As she entered, Elrond shifted and Bilba felt her heart jerk with recognition.
"Legolas! Beorn!"
The two turned to look at her and Bilba ran to meet them, trying to ignore the way her stomach clenched at the tight looks in their eyes.
Beorn and Legolas had left Rivendell about two months before she and the boys had. It had been sad but Bilba had been well on the mend and the two had homes of their own to return to.
She reached Legolas first. He was already kneeling down, throwing his arms around her and hugging her somewhat tighter than absolutely necessary.
The feeling of dread increased as Bilba found herself unceremoniously pulled away and tossed up in the air. She shrieked in surprise only to have it turn to laughter as Beorn caught her and nearly crushed the life out of her in a hug.
"Little bunny! How are you?"
"Fine," Bilba pulled back to look at him. "And you? Why are you here? You should still be on your way home."
"That's good," Beorn said, his voice rumbling, utterly ignoring her question. "Good, good. And the littler bunnies? The princelings?"
"They're all fine." Beorn set her down and Bilba glared at him, trying to pretend she wasn't toddler sized next to the giant skinchanger. "And you haven't answered my question." She turned her gaze to Legolas. "Why are you here? What happened?"
"Nothing you don't already know about," Legolas answered. "Erebor is not the only one to use birds as messengers. Beorn has many friends. One of them found us, alerted us to the Nazgul's reappearance, and their purpose."
"We turned around at once," Beorn said, "but my friend had been forced to search for us a long time, and was exhausted and injured by a hawk in the process. By the time he found us we were already behind and he was in no condition to come ahead and warn Rivendell. We came as fast as we could but were too late."
"We are fortunate," Legolas broke in, "that Glorfindel and Aragorn found out what was happening and were able to help you in our stead."
Bilba suppressed a shudder. She'd already thought many times about what could have happened if she hadn't been exiled from the Shire, or if Aragorn and Glorfindel hadn't come to save her, even if Thorin hadn't been in the forest to help her right when she needed it.
As much as trouble seemed to find her, so too did help exactly at the times she needed it most, almost as if someone were looking out for her. Unbidden, she found herself thinking of Azog after the goblin tunnels, of the voice in her head demanding she call for help, or even further back, surviving on her own in the wilderness after her parents died, somehow stumbling upon Rangers who'd guided her the rest of the way home.
"—the ring draws them."
Bilba blinked, snapped out of her musing by Elrond's words. "What? What was that about the ring?"
Elrond sighed, suddenly looking every bit the ancient elf he was.
"The ring you've been carrying, where did you say you got it?"
Bilba frowned and then recounted the story, sketching over her interactions with Thorin or his despair upon believing his friends to be dead and the quest lost. It was none of their business to begin with and, aside from that, Thorin would be humiliated and she had no desire to do that to him.
By the time she was finished she had them all clustered in a half circle around her, Glorfindel, Elrond, Legolas, Beorn and Aragorn, who'd arrived at some point and silently joined them. Amrod had vanished soon after showing her in, leaving her with people who'd always proven to be her friends but currently stared at her with such solemn, grave expressions that she found herself desperately wishing for Fili or Kili to show up and stand beside her.
"The ring you found," Elrond said, his voice solemn, "It is the One Ring."
"The One Ring?" Bilba asked dumbly. "The One Ring of what?"
Even as she asked it, however, she knew. She'd studied history. She knew all about the War of the Last Alliance, about Gil-galad and Elendil. About the One Ring, crafted by Sauron and imbued with his power, and Isildur, who'd held the ring in his hand and, rather than destroying it, had kept it, held it until it had betrayed him and he'd been cut down by the forces of darkness which were always and ever drawn to it.
She swallowed, her throat suddenly as dry as ash. "That ring was lost," she whispered. "It's been gone for…forever."
"It has been found," Glorfindel said, his eyes equally dark.
Bilba looked at him, desperation in her voice as she spoke. "You saw it though. You saw it. You would have known, wouldn't you?"
"I am not infallible," Glorfindel answered quietly. "There is no record of the ring turning Sauron invisible and if it did so for Isildur he never made it known. I never touched it and had no reason to think it anything but a common magic ring."
Of course Isildur wouldn't have made the ring's power known, Bilba thought numbly, she hadn't either at first. It was too great a tactical advantage. Announcing it would have nullified it, at least in part.
She pictured the ring, a simple gold band that she'd worn next to her heart for probably close to two years. She'd never allowed the twins to play with it, feeling far too possessive over it, thank Yavanna. She'd seen no sign of any strange behavior from them, no hint of evil or darkness had touched them, no matter how close they'd been to it thanks to her.
"So it's been affecting me then?" she asked. "Making me paranoid and then…then on Weathertop, it tried to send me to the Nazgul?"
"Yes," Glorfindel said simply.
"Okay." She was shaking and wrapped her arms around her chest, suddenly cold in spite of the warmth of the afternoon. "So…so what do we do? Can we just…I don't know…melt it? You have forges, right?"
"The ring cannot be melted," Elrond said gently, "save in the fire it was created in, or possibly by the fire of one of the great wyrms, of which there are none left alive."
"Oh, sure, now you tell me," Bilba muttered. "That might have been nice to know before Kili put an arrow in the last one's eye." She tightened her grip, nervously tapping her foot. "Okay, so what about the fire it was made in? Where is that?"
She should know that but her mind was failing her at the moment, preferring to go blank in shock, still trying to process the fact she'd been wearing the One Ring of legend, the ring that had been on Sauron's finger, around her throat for two years.
She suddenly felt the strong desire to go take a bath, and perhaps burn all her clothing.
"Mordor," Legolas said shortly, "in the fires of Mount Doom."
"Oh." Bilba focused on her feet. "Well that won't work then, will it? What about just smashing it or throwing it in a river or the ocean or something?"
"There are no weapons created by Man, Elf or Dwarf that will destroy the ring," Elrond said grimly, "And the ring has a will of its own, and is clearly awake. It managed to find its way this far on its own, after being lost since the Second Age. Even if we threw it in the sea I fear it would somehow, someway find its way back again."
"Then what are we supposed to do?" Bilba's voice rose and she jerked her eyes up to focus on Elrond. "Why not just leave it here? Put it in a box and bury it in the center of Rivendell. Wouldn't that fix the problem?" Her voice held a note of hysteria and she saw all of their gazes shift to sympathy.
"The Nazgul know where it is," Elrond said. "They surround Rivendell even as we speak. My power is keeping them at bay for now but it will not last forever. Sauron will turn all his attention to us and, eventually, we will fall."
Bilba turned to look at Beorn but he was already shaking his head. "The creatures sense the ring. If we tried to take it from here and bury it elsewhere they would simply follow the one who carried it, kill them, and take the ring to their master."
"Then what?" Bilba raised her hands helplessly, her voice cracking slightly. "Elrond, what? My sons are here, and you're telling me there's nothing we can do? There has to be something, anything. This is my fault, tell me what to do and I'll do it but don't tell me I've condemned my own children. Please." Her voice broke and she sucked in a shaky breath, trying to regain control. "Please." She looked at them one by one, pleading. "Just tell me what to do."
"If we had the time we could send requests for help," Glorfindel said, "to Saruman at least, and to Gondor."
"It's no use wasting time on what we could do if only we had more time," Beorn said shortly, "we have what we are given, what will we do with it?"
"We may have been given more than you think," Elrond said suddenly. He frowned, his eyes going distant for a moment as though considering something. "The finding of this ring affect us all, but it is not in our power to send word to the kingdoms, not with the Nazgul upon our very doorstep."
Glorfindel's eyes widened. "But we have representatives of every race already here don't we? You are the leader of Rivendell and Legolas is the Crown Prince of Mirkwood. Bilba and her friends represent the hobibts, while Oakenshield is the rightful king of Erebor and the dwarves regardless of if he currently sits on his throne. Aragorn is the rightful king of Gondor."
Bilba's head jerked back as she spun to look at Aragorn. "You're the what?"
He gave Glorfindel an irritated look. "There's no guarantee my father is dead. I'm the rightful heir of nothing so long as he lives, and I very much hope he does."
Guilt crossed Glorfindel's face and he nodded. "Of course, my friend. I am sorry for speaking so harshly. Regardless, though, you do hold a right to Gondor and, as such, possess the authority to speak on their behalf, at least in this case where we have little time and no other choice."
Elrond nodded. "We should not waste any more time. The Council will be convened in an hour's time. We will decide then what is to be done with the ring, if anything at all can be done."
"Great," Bilba whispered, shutting her eyes as despair washed over her. "We can just let everyone know Bilba's gone and doomed the world all at once then. I'm sure they'll all be just thrilled to hear."
Someone knelt in front of her and she opened her eyes to see Aragorn as he put his hands on her shoulders.
"This was not your doing," he said calmly. "Had you not found the ring it would have found its way into another's hand, probably a goblin's or orc's, and then the outcome would have been quite different. You have not doomed the world, if anything you have very likely saved it, or at least given us a fighting chance."
His image blurred as Bilba's eyes watered and she gave a shaky nod. He stood up and conferred with Elrond for a few minutes before leaving. The others left soon after, Legolas and Beorn to rest and get cleaned up, Elrond, and Glorfindel to arrange the Council. They offered to escort her back to her quarters, or stay with her, but she simply shook her head, requesting she be left alone for a time.
After the area was empty she went and sat on one of the small chairs, studying the stone column where it rose from the center of the space.
She'd barely gotten settled when she heard a noise from behind her, in the direction of the hall leading back into Elrond's house.
"I'm sorry," she said, assuming it was one of the servants. "I'll just be a few moments, if that's alright."
"It's not," a familiar voice said, "and you should be sorry. Just look at what you've gone and done."
Bilba tensed, then stood and turned to see Adalgrim approaching. "What are you doing here? Were you eavesdropping?"
"Of course I was," he snapped, coming to a stop in front of her. His hands were clenched at his sides and his jaw was set in that way it always got when he was absolutely livid. "I wanted to see what trouble your insistence on being just like your mother had gotten us all into now."
The say he said "just like your mother" made it sound like a curse and Bilba bristled at the venom in his voice. "No one asked you to come Adalgrim, you did that on your own."
"Of course I had to come!" he said. "My parents went with you. I had to go to make sure they didn't end up like yours!"
Bilba could almost feel the color draining from her face and she swayed slightly on her feet. "Adalgrim, I would never endanger Priscilla or Seth. You know that."
"I'm sure that's what Belladonna said about your father and Bungo," Adalgrim retorted, "and look how well that went." He took a deep breath, clearly trying to control himself. "Neither of you never meant to do anything. But, guess what? Something happened and, now, look where it's gotten you!" He took a step forward, getting in her face, his voice rising. "I told you, Bilba, didn't I tell you? Don't be like your mother I said. Be a hobbit, be respectable. But you just couldn't do it could you? You had to go and be selfish and now look what you've done? You doomed the entire damn world! I have a wife and children! What am I supposed to do? How can I possibly protect them from Sauron once he has his ring?"
"If you're going to listen in then make sure you hear more than what you want to hear!" Bilba shouted back. She moved forward, forcing him to back up. "The ring would have been found either way, if not by me than someone else!"
"At least if it'd been someone else it wouldn't have resulted in the damn Nazgul rampaging through the Shire! It wouldn't have ended up with my parents on some fool mission trying to keep you safe!"
"And what would you have had me do instead, Adalgrim?" Bilba hissed. "Run away like you've always done?"
It was an old, old argument, a weapon always laying at the ready for two people who knew each other so well they could injure one another with an efficiency and effectiveness few others could.
"I didn't run away," Adalgrim growled. "I went to Buckland! To get away from you! I couldn't stand the thought of standing by and watching you get yourself killed like your mother did!"
They were in each other's faces now, mere inches from one another. It brought to mind all the other times the two of them had fought. They had always been close, nearly siblings more than friends but their relationship had been volatile at the best of times. Bilba was outgoing and adventurous, or had been at one time, while Adalgrim was a stickler for tradition and being a proper Hobbit.
"You're a liar," she said coldly, "and you always have been. After my parents…after I came back I changed completely. I tried to be just like you. I modeled myself after you. A perfect Hobbit, respectable in every way, except when it came to your cowardice. You didn't leave until after I started noticing Fram."
Adalgrim's eyes widened. "You're insane."
"And you were never nearly as clever as you thought you were," Bilba shot back. "I got your letter after you moved away. The one you sent 'anonymously' as if I didn't know what your handwriting looked like."
"Well if you knew it was from me then why didn't you respond?" He asked sharply.
"Because you ran away," Bilba said. "You left me, right when I needed you the most, because you were more concerned with yourself and your own feelings than with anything I was going through. I needed you, and you left."
Adalgrim's hands clenched into fists at his side and Bilba watched as an array of emotions crossed his face, regret, fear, the same fear she'd seen in his eyes every time he looked toward his parents as they trekked toward Rivendell; guilt, anger.
In the end, as was often the case with Adalgrim, anger won out.
"Seeing how things turned out it's a good thing I did," he hissed, his voice low, "If I hadn't I'd have probably ended dead in a ditch somewhere, that or sitting by while you got yourself knocked up by the first dwarf you saw, assuming you even know for sure which one it was."
The crack of her hand hitting his face echoed around the small space. Adalgrim stared at her, the angry red imprint of her hand standing out vividly on his skin.
Bilba spun and ran, through the corridors of the house and back outside. She flew over the bridges and walkways, not even registering her surroundings or anyone she might have passed.
She ran until she reached Fili and Kili's room. She hit the door, shoved it open and darted inside the empty room.
She slammed the door shut behind her and threw herself on Fili's bed, the one nearest the door. She dragged the blankets down, crawled under them, curled up into a ball, and promptly burst into tears.
She couldn't be sure how long she lay there, curled in a ball of self-imposed misery, before she heard the sound of the door opening and the clump of boots crossing the floor. The edge of the bed dipped and, for a time, there was silence.
"So," Fili's voice said finally. "Who exactly do I need to hurt and how badly? Aside from myself of course, as Kili so eloquently pointed out after you left."
Bilba's only response was to continue crying.
"Well," Fili went on, "I suppose that answers the 'how badly' part. Now, the question is, what exactly shall we do to them?"
With that he started to launch into revenge scenarios, each one growing progressively more creative, and outlandish, as he went. Every so often Kili, who was apparently also in the room, would pipe in with his own addendums, taking whatever insanity Fili proposed and elevating it to an even crazier level.
As they spoke Bilba slowly calmed down, until she was simply laying quietly under the blankets listening to them.
"And that's where we'd add the caterpillars," Fili said cheerfully, "followed by the ale and then the giant spiders."
"Well of course," Kili said sagely, "Doing it in any other order would just be ridiculous."
"Oh, for the love of-" Bilba threw the covers back and sat up. Her eyes felt puffy and dry, her voice was somewhat hoarse and she was sure her face was swollen and red but they'd seen her far worse so she gave it little thought. "You two are forbidden from being alone around Ash and Frerin, ever again. You're terrible influences."
Fili gave her a brilliant grin. "I'm an amazing influence, just you watch." His smile faltered somewhat. "Not so great a friend though, and for that I'm sorry. I had no right to yell at you like that."
Bilba clasped her hands together and stared at them where they lay on the blankets. "It's alright. I understand. It must have been a shock."
"It was," Fili agreed, "but it's not excuse for how I acted. You are not bound by my feelings toward Thorin. You have every right to forgive him, or not, as you wish and if you believe returning to Erebor, or Dale, is the right thing to do, then Kili and I will support you and go with you."
Kili, seated on the edge of the other bed, nodded vigorously. "And if Fili tries to act like an arse again I'll simply hit him until he behaves. Or gets a concussion and forgets what he was arguing about, whichever comes first."
Bilba laughed bitterly. "I'm not sure if we'll be able to return, there or anywhere else for that matter."
Fili frowned. "Why not?"
"Did you hear about the planned council meeting?"
Fili nodded. "We did, but not what it's about. Do you know?"
"Something I did that can't be fixed," Bilba said, her voice so low it was nearly inaudible.
"Everything can be fixed," Kili said.
Bilba sent him a tired smile. "You know that's not true."
Fili shrugged. "Maybe not but we can certainly try."
"Even if you could, I doubt you can fix this," Bilba said. "It's too big, much too big for any of us."
"Don't underestimate us," Fili said, his voice going serious. "We're Durins after all. We don't let things like size stop us. Look at Smaug, pretty much everyone said he was too big but we managed to take him down, didn't we?"
"I seem to recall us nearly dying on that particular endeavor," Bilba muttered. "Would you still be willing to take it on if I said it was bigger than Smaug?"
Kili got up and moved to sit on the other side of her bed. "You only have to ask."
Bilba frowned. "And if I didn't ask?"
Fili shrugged. "Then we'd do it anyway."
Bilba moved, scrambling forward enough to throw her arms around him. She reached one arm out and dragged Kili in as well, digging her hands into their shirts. Both hugged her back just as tight before pulling away.
"So," Fili said mildly, "What exactly did Adalgrim say to you anyway?"
Bilba flinched. "Who said it was Adalgrim?"
"He's the one who's been acting like he ate something sour ever since we left the Shire," Kili said. "I don't know who else it would be aside from uncle but he's currently on his best behavior and has been almost unnaturally quiet."
He didn't seem to have even notice that he'd referred to Thorin as his uncle for the first time in…she didn't even know how long.
She sighed. "Don't leave the Shire and you'll be safe." At their confused looks she gave a small smile and continued. "It's an adage every Hobbit is taught as a child, and repeats in turn to their own children. We're not exactly warriors after all, we can't fight the way dwarves can, or negotiate peace the way elves can or come up with devious strategies like humans. The Rangers look after us and as long as they do we can believe the lie that nothing can ever touch us, so long as we stay in the Shire." She wrung her hands together, looking away from Kili and toward Fili. "Adalgrim already knew the outside was every bit as deadly as he'd been taught, he knew that because my family went out into it and I'm the only one who came back." She lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. "Now, thanks to my leaving again, he knows the Shire isn't safe either. He knows nowhere is, not really."
"That doesn't excuse his behavior," Fili growled.
Bilba raised an eyebrow at him. Guilt flashed across his face and he looked away, crossing his arms defensively. "It doesn't excuse it," Bilba agreed, "It simply explains it. He's in danger, his parents are in danger, the way he defined the world has been radically altered, and it's all my fault."
Fili's eyes narrowed. "Bilba-"
"It was my fault," Bilba said calmly, cutting him off. "I'm not saying I regret going on the quest. I'd have never met you two if I hadn't and I wouldn't have my sons. I'll never regret that. But every action we take has consequences and this is one of them. It's something that wouldn't have happened if I hadn't left. Adalgrim is right on that point and he's angry but, more than that, he's afraid." She lifted her eyes, studying both of them. "He is very, very afraid and, with him, that fear most often comes out as anger. He's always been that way."
Fili made an exasperated sound. "You're just going to forgive him then?"
Bilba gave him an incredulous look. "Of course not. He went too far, as usual, and questioned Ash and Frerin's paternity. My only regret is I didn't slap him harder."
Fili and Kili stared at her, their faces blank. Then, in sync as they so often were, they stood up.
"Come on," Fili said.
Each one of them took one of her hands and pulled her to her feet. "The Council meeting is going to start soon and we have things to get done first."
Bilba frowned. "What things?"
Fili gave her an incredulous look. "You know what. We have to go kill Adalgrim."
"You can't kill him," Bilba said with a long suffering tone, "He was my best friend until he took off for Buckland, still is in many ways. He was there for me right after my parents and Bungo died too, for awhile at least. He's also married with a child and new baby and, if you killed him, you'd upset Seth and Priscilla."
"Curse you and your logic," Kili muttered. "How about we just beat him up?"
"No."
"Tie him to a tree and hope a bear eats him? That wouldn't be our fault after all."
"NO."
They'd started walking, her hands still firmly clasped in theirs. Fili opened the door with his free hand and they headed out.
"Fine, if you insist on taking away all our fantastic ideas we're left with no other choice."
"Indeed," Kili agreed. "You've forced us to resort to the worst plan we can possibly think of, one that will probably have him wishing we'd gone with one of the others."
Bilba stopped in her tracks, causing them to both stop as well and angle to look at her. "What are you talking about?"
Both of them looked serious suddenly and Bilba reminded herself, for about the thousandth time, that as young as they were and as much as they might act goofy or silly at times they were also blooded royalty and exceptionally skilled warriors in their own rights.
"It's quite simple really," Fili started.
"We're going to tell his mother," Kili finished.
Bilba blinked, started to breathe out in relief, and then felt a stab of horror flash through her. "Yavanna, Priscilla will kill him."
"I don't hear you complaining," Fili said. He tugged on her hand and they started walking again.
"You know," Bilba said, "I still don't understand how you even knew I was upset over a person, let alone that it was Adalgrim. How do you know anyone made me cry and I wasn't just upset for another reason?"
"Optimism," Fili said. "Extracting vengeance from a person is a lot easier-"
"—and more fun-" Kili piped in.
"A lot more fun," Fili agreed, "than trying to get it from an idea or building."
"Not that we wouldn't try," Kili supplied.
"True," Fili acknowledged, "It just wouldn't be as much fun."
"Or involve as many bees."
Bilba's lips quirked, just a little, and both beamed at her.
With that they launched back into absurd revenge schemes for the next time someone upset her and, as they did, Bilba felt her guts start to unwind.
She still felt an overwhelming sense of dread, still felt fear and guilt and her heart still twisted inside her at the thought of her innocent, defenseless sons surrounded by Nazgul, with Sauron's forces bearing down on them, intent on reclaiming his cursed ring.
But, for the moment at least, she was safe. She was safe and some of the wisest, and oldest heroes of Middle Earth were gathered there at that very moment, working on a solution. She couldn't have asked for a better group, couldn't have planned one better if given all the time and resources in the world.
She tightened her grip in Fili and Kili's hands and felt their hands tighten in turn.
They would figure something out.
She had to believe that.
She had to, because the alternative was to terrifying to think about.
So she would believe.
And she would hope.
And she would pray that whoever had been watching over her through the darkest parts of her life continued to do so.
Because part of her was convinced, beyond reason, beyond logic, that a new path was beginning to unfurl ahead of her.
And it would be the darkest of them all.