Bilba wished she could travel back in time again. Not very far, just enough to get her past the moment where she'd made the truly idiotic decision to alert anyone else to the presence of orcs in the Shire.
Not even a full day, and she'd already screwed up. At this rate, she'd have gotten everyone killed before they made it to Bree.
"We don't need any help," she hissed at Dwalin, for the fourth or fifth time.
He scowled; arms crossed in that way he got when he'd decided to be stubborn. She'd used to think Thorin was stubborn, but that was only because she hadn't known Dwalin that well.
They were arguing in the foyer of Bag End, door open and path waiting outside but, no, they couldn't leave because Thorin¸ usually the king of reckless himself, decided they needed reinforcements.
Her stomach churned and she let out a hiss of annoyance. Her arms were crossed, fingers digging into her forearms as she struggled to contain the almost manic energy vibrating just under her skin.
She needed to do...something.
Her foot tapped an erratic beat on the floor as she struggled to keep from pacing.
The sound of a low voice came from the living room, slicing through her like a knife. She felt her eyes go wide and she went completely still as a, by then, all too familiar hollowness yawned wide inside her. Her head tilted of its own accord toward his voice like a compass needle drawn north against its will, eyes flickering toward the darkness of the room.
The world seemed to diminish around her, fading until the only thing she could hear was the thud of her own heartbeat.
The voice came again, louder and closer, and something inside her...shifted.
Liquid cold rushed through her veins and her emotions settled, sinking slowly under an ocean of darkness and silence.
"Screw this," she whispered.
She turned toward the door, only to stop as Dwalin's hand closed around her upper arm.
She kept her eyes focused outside. "Let me go, Vadok."
His eyes narrowed. She'd never called him by the title before he left, and rarely did so after. It was an annoying tell she'd struggled, and failed, to eliminate. "We should wait for the others."
"Why?" Bilba demanded, finally looking at him. "You're too scared to face a couple of orcs on your own?" She tried to wrench her arm free but, even at her strongest, she'd never come anywhere close to where Dwalin was. A body had its limits and a male dwarf would always be stronger than a female hobbit, no matter how hard she trained.
He sighed. "What happened to you being the levelheaded one?"
She stepped closer to him, lowered her voice, and switched to Hobbitsh. "This is not supposed to happen. We're endangering them before we even get started."
"You can't protect them from everything," Dwalin argued. "Are you going to panic over a stubbed toe?"
"I hardly think an orc pack counts as a stubbed toe," Bilba shot back. She wrenched again and this time Dwalin released her, but only because he knew she'd dislocate her own arm if he didn't. Being weaker didn't mean she had to submit to him, just figure out ways to outwit him.
She turned to the pile of weapons near her door, hesitating for only a moment at the sight of a familiar pair of swords, and grabbed the bow and quiver of arrows resting against the wall.
"He'll probably want those," Dwalin said dryly.
"He's got a sword," Bilba said with a grimace. He'd been buried with it. Bilba had always thought it an idiotic decision. His primary weapon had been the bow. He should have been buried with that, not the weapon that had failed him in the end.
She set the quiver on her belt, mentally kicking herself for not picking up her own set in Bree. She was good with the bow and arrow and could easily use it to help build her arm strength to hold a sword again. She was just so used to the dual swords that the thought had never even occurred to her.
Second mistake of the day.
She gave one more resentful look at the swords she'd used for decades and now probably couldn't even lift properly and then stalked out into the cool night air. She was only mildly surprised when Dwalin followed her. Once out of her gate, they ducked across the lane and crouched low in the grass on the other side. Hobbiton prided itself on being close to nature, which meant plenty of long grass, bushes and trees to duck behind.
The orcs had been kind enough to light a small fire, which was helpful since not everyone had the ability to see in the dark, and she kept her eyes on it as she slowly crept closer. The shapes became clearer, separating into individuals.
Dwalin put a hand on her arm. "Wait," he ordered lowly.
Bilba narrowed her eyes. "Since when do I take orders from you?"
He nodded forward. "You get one or two of them and the rest scatter. It'll be ten times harder to track them all down."
The barest hint of movement caught her eye and Bilba noted Thorin nearby, creeping up on the orc pack, sword in hand. Once she'd picked him out it was easy, or easier at least, to see the rest of the Company, slowly moving through the grass to surround the orcs.
"Well this just keeps getting better and better," she muttered. "Let's just bring the entire Company out, why don't we?"
Dwalin pushed up to a low crouch, one hand resting on the ground, the other gripping his sword. "Since you're so keen on the bow, stay here and pick off any stragglers."
"Yes, Father," Bilba mocked.
Dwalin smirked, shook his head, and then moved off to join the others. Bilba sighed in resignation and settled down on one knee. She nocked an arrow to the string of the bow and then, in the most frustrating part of any fight, waited.
It didn't take long.
She didn't even see the signal. One second there was nothing, and the next shadows were rising from the darkness.
Bilba rose as well and raised the bow. She sighted down the length of the arrow and did her best to block out everything but the orcs. The world around her fell away once more until all she could hear was the rush of air as she let out a breath and the nearly inaudible thwip of the arrow as it left the string.
She barely watched as it sank into the throat of an orc before she was stringing a second arrow and then a third. The orcs caught on to the archer in their midst after that and began trying to use the dwarves as shields between them and her. She was still able to get a few in the legs or dominant arm, though, making them easy pickings for the dwarves.
The battle was short, over almost as soon as it'd begun. The dwarves outnumbered the orcs and, with them surrounded, it ensured that none escaped to go call in their own reinforcements. The noise awoke a few of her neighbors, sending lights flickering on in windows, but no one came out to see what was going on.
Bilba would like to think it was common sense, but knew it was probably more likely that no one wanted to be seen consorting with people who had battles in the middle of the night, which was simply rude and entirely improper.
Her eyes drifted to the dirt road on her left and idly followed it until it vanished through a split in the hedge that surrounded Hobbiton, leading out into the greater Shire and world beyond. It was strangely black in that small square, repelling even the light of the half moon and stars overhead.
Something seemed to shift in the opening, and she could almost swear she saw tendrils of the dark moving inside She frowned and focused on a bit of the hedge, only to feel her stomach clench as she watched it slowly fade from view and then reappear again.
She started to step forward, toward it, only to stop with a gasp as a hand fell on her shoulder. Gandalf stared toward the hedge, expression grave.
"Why were the orcs here?" she asked.
"Do you really have to ask?" he mused without looking at her.
Bilba's eyes narrowed at the implication. "That's not possible. It hasn't even been a day." She didn't even have the damn ring yet. Not that any but a very few knew that of course. If they did they'd just run straight toward Gollum's cave and avoid her all together.
Her eyes went back to the hedge again, but it was now empty, just another spot of darkness in the night. She frowned and tried not to ignore how unsettled she'd felt. She'd understood she might have to face some different adversaries this time around, that others might remember the future and target her for that stupid ring.
She'd just expected to have more than a day to get ready for it.
She glanced up at Gandalf, hoping he'd have some sort of wisdom or advice to impart. Instead he simply squeezed her shoulder and moved off.
Bilba resisted the urge to throw something at him. Her eyes flickered back to the group and she noted the dwarves were being gracious enough to dispose of the corpses and clean up the site. They easily could have just left it for the Bounders or had someone send word to the Rangers.
Mahal knew, none of her neighbors would have been able to bring themselves to do it no matter how bad the smell got. An image of Lobelia wandering past, handkerchief held to her nose and head up as she valiantly ignored the pile of rotting orcs, crossed her mind and she couldn't keep a smile from creeping on her face.
"Can I have my bow back now?"
The words, from behind her, caused her to jump in surprise. The smile vanished and her back stiffened. Not because of who spoke, but because she knew the only time she really remembered Kili being on his own was shortly before he died, and it hadn't been by choice.
Her fingers tightened on the bow until the wood creaked in her hand and she half turned, just enough to bring him into her peripheral vision. She held the bow out, and then the quiver with the remaining arrows. "It pulls to the left."
"It does not," Kili said, offended, as he took them from her. "I made it myself."
"Yeah, well you made it pulling to the left," Bilba said shortly. She made the mistake of turning her head just a little too much, and a flash of golden blond hair caught her eye.
Her heart seized in her chest so hard she flinched, and her breath was suddenly gone entirely. She clenched her jaw, and then dug the nail of a finger into her thumb, using the flare of pain as a distraction. Without another word she turned and strode toward where Dwalin and the others were getting rid of the bodies.
If she was very, very lucky, one of them would make the mistake of saying something to piss her off and she could punch them.
She really, really needed to punch something.
"Is it just me or does she not like us?"
Fili frowned at his brother. "She doesn't like me. She at least she acknowledges you."
Kili raised an eyebrow at him. "I noticed that, but figured I was just imagining things."
"You're not." Fili's eyes followed the young woman as she dropped into a crouch next to Dwalin. He paused to listen to something she said, shot an unreadable look in their direction and then said something back to her. Whatever it was earned a sharp response before she stood up and went to help Bofur.
She never looked in their direction again.
Fili's eyes narrowed. He'd noticed that she'd ignored him when introductions had been made, and at least one or two other times after that, but it hadn't been until he'd realized she never so much as looked at him the entire evening that it had really caught his attention.
"We've never met her before, have we?" he asked Kili.
"Not that I'm aware of." Kili flashed him a grin. "You think the people around here are going to enjoy a bonfire?"
Fili grimaced. "I think they'd enjoy the alternative less."
He frowned and turned around, looking up the hill toward the house and then back again. Kili lifted his eyes from where he was examining his bow and studied him quizzically. "Problem?"
"No." Fili looked back in time to see Bofur lean in close to Bilba to say something, placing a hand on her knee to keep his balance and bringing his face within an inch or two of hers. She tilted her head to listen and he thought he saw the barest hint of a smile cross her face before she pulled away.
"Bofur better watch out," Kili said dryly. "Dwalin might kill him."
As if summoned, Dwalin turned from talking to their uncle and begin striding up the hill again. Several others joined him, their uncle having apparently decided not everyone was needed to clean up the aftermath of the fight.
As Dwalin passed him, Fili caught his eye and, under his breath, asked, "Why is she so determined to not look at me?"
Dwalin snorted. "Nope."
He then kept walking, right past them and up the hill. Kili made a mock disapproving sound as they watched him vanish. "Get a girlfriend and suddenly your loyalties switch."
Fili didn't answer. His eyes were on Bilba as she walked up the hill toward them, Bofur at her side. As they neared, her eyes almost flickered in his direction, but then she ducked her head closer to Bofur, reaching to grab his arm with both hands as she spoke to him in a low voice.
They passed just like that, and Fili turned slowly to watch as her figure slowly faded into the shadows as she approached her home. Part of him wanted her to turn around and look at him, if for only a second.
The other part of him wondered why it bothered him so much when she didn't.