The reunion and celebration that took place once the riders arrived was one for the history books, and was probably also the first, and last, time Mordor ever saw such a display.
Bilba lost track of how many hugs she received, not just from Aragorn and Gandalf but from other riders, many of whom she'd met during her short time in Gondor.
After they finally settled down it was time to play catch up, starting with her for the simple reason that she no longer looked quite the same, and Thorin and Dwalin were with her when everyone quite distinctly recalled them returning to Erebor.
If it weren't for those two facts, Bilba wasn't sure anyone would have believed her claims that the Valar themselves had intervened to save her from giving her life to ensure the ring's destruction. That, of course, led to another round of hugs and exclamations, to the point Thorin started getting a bit jealous and began staring down anyone who approached.
Gandalf took his turn after that and regaled them all with his account of what had already come to be called the Battle for Helm's Deep. What Bilba had seen as a slender, almost peaceful looking column of black smoke on the horizon as they traveled had, in fact, been a nightmare on the ground.
The army she had watched march out from Isengard had been nearly ten thousand strong, and intent on burning Rohan to cinders and ash. At Helm's Deep the armies had met to fight for the heart and soul of Middle Earth and though they had suffered great losses the horsemen had, in the end, emerged victorious.
The army Saruman had built, and taken such pride in, had failed to break Rohan and, they, in turn, had left after their victory to aid Gondor in its fight to push back the armies of Sauron sent to wipe them from the land.
The races of men and elves had suffered great loss in that battle as well, but they had survived. They had been able to put together a second, albeit far smaller, force that marched on the Black Gate, their sole purpose to draw the eye of Sauron and his orcs, so as to give her safe passage to the mountain.
Bilba had watched that army of orcs march out too and could remember despairing of there being anything left of Middle Earth to save.
She'd never been happier to be wrong.
Not only had Middle Earth endured, but she'd turned out to personally speed Bilba and the boys on their way to destroying the ring.
Publicly, Bilba burst into tears and went through a third round of hugs and gratitude as she realized she'd never been as alone as she'd once believed.
Privately, it occurred to her that perhaps believing it had been entirely up to her had been more than a little prideful to begin with.
In either event, as she started to tell them her own story, she was deeply aware of one overwhelming emotion.
Gratitude.
She'd like to say life finally slowed down after that but, if anything, it sped up.
They met back up with the army at the Black Gate, where Bilba had a reunion with Glorfindel, as well as Legolas and Beorn who'd returned from dealing with Isengard. Saruman remained locked under tight control, guarded by the Ents. In the end, all involved had agreed the only one qualified to deal with a wizard was another wizard and had decided to wait until Gandalf returned to make the final decision.
Given what she'd seen of Saruman, Bilba didn't blame them.
After that, she'd have liked to have headed off to the Shire at once but had been convinced to return to Gondor instead. With the damage inflicted by the orcs, resources were scarce and there simply wasn't enough available to provision her for a return to Bag End, no matter how badly she might want to go.
Bilba wasn't happy but couldn't argue with their logic. They returned to Gondor, and to a celebration the likes of which Middle Earth had probably not seen since the War of Wrath and would hopefully never have cause to see again.
Aragorn was crowned on a bright afternoon a week or so after their arrival. He had more than proven himself in leadership and courage. Ecthelion, whose father had passed away during the Battle of Gondor, was named Steward and saw his duties reduced to what they should have been all along. Given the sudden spring in his step, and the way the lines in his face seemed to lessen, Bilba had a feeling he was quite pleased with this turn of events.
Bilba, by this time, was feeling better than she had in a very long time. The Valar had changed her body and healed her stab wound but, once the adrenaline had worn off, she'd found herself hungry, worn out, and with large blisters forming on her very tender feet. Good food and rest had done wonders for her, not to mention she was convinced her new body was significantly younger than her old one had been.
Aches she hadn't been fully aware of were gone, her stamina was increased, and she found herself staying up into the early hours of the morning, much like she'd done when she'd been little more than a faunt. Getting used to wearing shoes was going to be quite the undertaking, but if going barefoot was all she had to give up in return for living to see her sons grow up, she was more than willing to take it.
Fili and Kili recovered alongside her and, together, the three of them could often be seen haunting the halls of the palace at all hours as they helped with the injured and those displaced by the attack.
The two were also instrumental in helping her avoid her endless stream of fans and well-wishers. It seemed everyone in Gondor wanted to touch or speak to the ring bearer, and none of them were the least bit interested in her insisting she'd never have made it without Fili and Kili, or that it would have all been in vain without all the people ensuring Middle Earth was still there once she'd succeeded. She'd been the one to physically throw the ring into the mountain, and that was all that mattered to them. She must have told the story a thousand times, leaving out the hallucinations of Lily and all the other torment the ring had put her through. It was personal, painful, and quite simply none of their business.
She had nightmares sometimes. They contributed to her late nights as much as her new body, and she had a feeling the same held true for Fili and Kili. Most ran the natural course of night terrors, her failing to destroy the ring in a never-ending variety of ways. Some were a little more creative, usually involving her wandering the halls of Gondor or Erebor only to have Lily suddenly appear, revealing she was still in the mountain and the victory she thought she'd won had all been in her head.
She'd wake up soaked in her own sweat, breathing harsh in her ears, and heartbeat rapid in her chest. She'd scramble to her feet and stumble out of her room to wander the halls as long as it took to convince herself they really had won
It was during one such excursion, several days after the coronation, that Thorin found her. The boys weren't with her, for once, and Bilba ended up taking a long, moonlight walk through one of the few, undamaged, gardens of Gondor's upper levels.
It was peaceful, or at least it was until Thorin told her they were finally ready to leave, but not to the Shire.
"We've been gone for months," she argued. "They won't even remember me at this rate!"
"It'll be far worse if we try to cross the Misty Mountains with winter setting in," Thorin replied. His face was half cast in shadow, half in moonlight, which might have been an attractive look on any day when he wasn't trying to suggest she spend the winter in Erebor when her children were in the Shire.
"I want to see them as much as you do," Thorin replied, "but I'm not willing to risk my life, or yours, to do it." He grimaced. "Not to mention that, even if we did make it, we'd be forced to spend the winter in the Shire. If we go in early spring, we'll have more than enough pleasant weather for the journey back."
Bilba scowled. "We'd stay in Rivendell, obviously, not the Shire."
Thorin gave her a disgruntled look. "Even worse."
Bilba shot him a dirty look in return and turned her back to stare at darkened tree trunk as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.
She hated it when he was right, especially when it meant there were months more lying between her and seeing her sons again. Tears threatened, and she clenched her jaw, and wrapped her arms around her torso. She'd helped save Middle Earth. The last thing she should be doing was crying.
Arms wrapped around her and Thorin pulled her back to rest against him. "It won't be forever," he promised, "just a little while longer. They'll remember you. You know they will."
"Maybe." Bilba sniffed and angrily swiped a hand over her eyes before turning around in his arms to look up at him. It was mildly annoying to be in what was effectively a new body and still end up looking up to Thorin, but it was what it was. "I won't be welcome." Possibly not even by Priscilla. Legolas and Beorn had taken Adalgrim home but hadn't said much about Priscilla and Seth's reaction to the death of their son.
Did they blame her? Curse the day she'd left the Shire and returned with evil trailing close behind?
Thorin shrugged. "I doubt anyone will dare say anything to the hero of Middle Earth, particularly when I imagine you will probably have a rather large escort of those wishing to accompany you and see you safely back."
The barest hint of a smile crossed Bilba's lips at the thought of look on Lobelia and Fram's faces if that were to happen.
Her spirits buoyed, if only slightly, she sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck, so she could pull herself up on her toes and press her forehead to his.
He did have a point, and she knew he wanted to see his sons just as much as she did, if not more given how little time he'd had with them so far. He wouldn't suggest going to Erebor if he didn't have very good reason for it.
"Fine," she whispered. "Erebor it is."
And so they went to Erebor.
It was a bittersweet parting for, though it meant she was finally making some progress toward her sons, it was in the wrong direction.
And then there was the fact that not everyone was going.
Aragron had to stay, obviously, as he had a kingdom to rule, while Glorfindel and Gandalf had other matters in Middle Earth that demanded their attention. Sauron may have been the greatest evil in Middle Earth, but he hadn't been the only evil, and his defeat simply meant others, of thankfully lesser power, hoped to fill the void.
Legolas went with her, Thorin, Dwalin and the boys, as did Beorn, but only until the road forked to take them to their own homes.
Beorn hugged her so tight that Bilba was mildly worried he'd crack a rib, before setting her down and saying, "Don't forget your promise, little bunny. I may yet call you on it, one day."
"I won't forget," Bilba promised, "though I may just bring an army of dwarves with me if you ever do call."
"Even better," the giant rumbled, before taking his leave with a wave.
"Do I even want to know?" Thorin asked dryly, stepping up next to her.
Bilba gave him a brilliant grin, before letting him lead her over to help her back up on her pony. "You really don't."
They continued on after that, until they paused again for Legolas to take his leave. This parting wasn't as sad, for Mirkwood was very close to Erebor and the elf promised to visit as soon as he'd gotten settled.
After that, it was onto Erebor where, if possible, the resulting celebration outshone that of Gondor. If anyone had questions about the King of the Dwarves choosing a hobbit for a mate, those were dispelled by the sight of the two of them riding through the main street of Dale and across the plain to the gates.
Rumor that Thorin had been supernaturally taken from Erebor to aid her, and that the Valar themselves had blessed her with a more dwarven body had spread, and the proof now was indisputable. There may have been those willing to go against the king, but no one was stupid enough to go against the will of the Valar.
She'd been worried about how she'd feel seeing the gates of Erebor again, but those worries were soon dispelled as she was swarmed by the members of the Company. Their apologies for not standing up for her, and the boys, were lost in a babble of voices and Bilba soon lost track of who was hugging her at any given moment. Fili and Kili received the same treatment, until a sharp voice had the Company members falling away as if thunderstruck.
A female dwarf who looked very much like Thorin strode forward and proceeded to drag Fili and Kili into aggressive hugs. She then pulled away and faced Bilba, hands on her hips.
"So," she said, expressionless, "you're my sons' new sister, and the reason they weren't here when I arrived."
Bilba bristled slightly. "Me, Thorin, the ring of evil, your sons' lackluster decision making skills, there were a lot of factors."
Thorin snorted next to her, while Fili and Kili looked mildly horrified. Dis, for it could only be her, raised an eyebrow and then, without warning, stepped forward and hugged her. Bilba started, and then returned the hug shyly.
"All right." Dis pulled back and threw an arm across Bilba's shoulders to draw her inside the mountain. "Come on then. We've got a lot to plan for the wedding, and not a lot of time to do it in."
Bilba blinked, "Wait, we've got a lot to plan for the what?"
"About that," Thorin said mildly as he walked beside her. "I was meaning to talk to you."
"Oh, you think?" Bilba replied dryly. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "All that vowing and kowtowing but, deep down, you were just that sure of yourself, weren't you?"
Thorin's only response was a mildly smug smile.
Thorin had apparently made it abundantly clear to anyone who would listen that not only did he intend to beg her and the boys for forgiveness, but that he planned to marry her upon their return and officially have her declared Queen of Erebor.
Bilba was entirely sure she'd never get quite used to that title so when people started prematurely calling her by it, she pretended they were referring to someone standing behind her, and not to her at all. It made for some confusion but, honestly...
In the end, however, she quietly agreed to the rather enormous, ostentatious wedding Dis happily agreed to plan. Not just because she loved Thorin or wanted Dis to stop looking at her with a near maniacal look as she planned each and every detail, though both were certainly true.
Mostly, she agreed for the simple fact that Erebor was bloody cold in the winter and the thought of having what amounted to her own personal furnace in her bed was more than a little appealing.
And, so, on a particularly frigid day a month or so after her arrival, Bilba married the King of the Dwarves and took on the rather cumbersome title of Bilba, wife of Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain.
If anyone expected her to sit through all that every time they addressed her, they'd have another thing coming.
After the wedding, and rather large reception, Thorin took her to their suite of rooms and gave her a grand tour of the common area as well as their separate bedrooms. Bilba glanced over her own room, declared it quite nice, and announced she'd see it again come summer. She then proceeded to crawl into Thorin's bed, ordered him in next to her as a heat source, and decided she'd come out again once spring had started and she could leave to go get her sons.
Spring, or perhaps a little earlier if she could convince Thorin.
She was pretty sure she could.
She could be quite persuasive, when she wanted to be.
Bilba sat so straight on the pony's back that her own back protested and leaned forward as if she could physically urge the creature on by sheer willpower. Thorin, seated behind her had one hand on the reins and the other on her waist, trying to keep her in the saddle.
She'd originally thought to ride her own pony and had pictured herself looking tall and stately on its back as she rode into the Shire, but she'd ultimately changed her mind. For one thing, she had ended up convincing Thorin to leave early, when spring was still more of a promise than a reality, and the travel through frost covered landscapes, and the occasional snowbank, had had her eyeing Thorin and his heavy traveling cloak with envy.
Once she'd been happily ensconced inside said cloak she'd realized she could snuggle against him and take naps, which she did frequently as they traversed the distance between Erebor and the Shire.
The final reason why she'd chosen to travel on his pony instead of her own, however, wasn't one she'd mentioned out loud, though she had a feeling he suspected.
The truth was, she was more than a little nervous.
She'd have to face not just Priscilla and Seth, but the entire Shire. All those who'd been happy to banish her, strike her from the books as though she'd never existed.
Her own grandfather, who'd sat across from her and denied she was his granddaughter.
Fram, who she might not be able to resist punching again, which was probably not the appropriate thing for a queen to be doing but would certainly be satisfying.
"Did I mention I told everyone I was married to Kili?" she asked, leaning her head back to look at Thorin.
"A few times," he replied with exasperation. "I think you said you were going to simply ignore it. Queen's prerogative or something along those lines."
Bilba nodded. That was right. No one would dare question her, she hoped. Particularly not when they saw the escort she'd brought along.
When Thorin had commented the list of those who'd want to escort her back would be large, he hadn't been kidding.
Aragorn, along with his new queen, Arwen; had come with a delegation when they'd heard she was making the trip, and Legolas had brought another from Mirkwood. Rohan had sent a small group as a gesture of goodwill and appreciation for the ringbearer, which Bilba translated to 'they heard everyone else was going and didn't want to be left out'.
Thorin, being Thorin, naturally reacted by including an Erebor contingent that she was pretty sure constituted a small army all its own, insisting when she complained that he wasn't having the other inhabitants of Middle Earth thinking he didn't have the means to protect his own wife.
He had not appreciated when Bilba had pointed out it was just as possible they might think he was simply terrified of travel after facing a couple of orcs, goblins and one or two Nazgul on previous trips.
Actually, now that she thought about it, she doubted anyone would blame him if that had been the case.
Along the way they'd somehow been joined by elves from Lothlorien, and then Elrond and still more elves, much to Thorin's annoyance, after reaching Rivendell. Now, they'd reached the outskirts of Hobbiton, and Bilba could see the hill in the near distance with Bag End perched on top. A mixture of nerves and excitement started inside her and she put a hand over Thorin's where it lay wrapped around her stomach.
Would her sons even remember her?
"Don't forget to breathe," Thorin's voice said in her ear, and she jumped in surprise.
"I am breathing," she muttered, even as she took a deep breath to clear the spots that had rapidly been forming in front of her eyes.
Along the path, hobbits had begun to gather to stare at the approaching procession and Bilba sat up straighter and raised her chin. In Erebor she typically wore a simple dress and furs but, for this, she'd deliberately packed an emerald gown with long, fur trimmed sleeves and hem. Her hair was bound up with a diamond studded net and she wore a thin circlet Thorin had made her that she'd worn exactly once before. Thorin had a habit of making her jewelry and she wore several of the pieces now, all of them shimmering and sparking as the sunlight hit them.
She'd insisted Thorin be fancy as well, and he'd obliged, complete with wearing his crown and a long, velvet cloak. Fili and Kili, similarly decked out, rode to either side just behind him while an honor guard led by Dwalin came behind, and along both sides. Counting him, the boys, and her, it was two kings, two queens, three princes and the Lord of Rivendell all entering the Shire at once.
Bilba kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, and just above the head level of anyone standing on the ground.
As they neared the bottom of the hill, she caught sight of Poppy standing at the foot of the lane leading up to Bag End. She'd clearly dressed up and, given the smug look on her face and the way she'd brought a freaking lace umbrella that she was swirling over her head, apparently felt she was about to steal the show.
Bilba saw no sign of Fram but, with Fili right there, she wasn't particularly surprised. Undoubtedly, he'd crawl out from whatever rock he was hiding under once they, and Fili's weapons, were gone.
"Your Highness," Poppy said, curtseying toward Thorin as they approached. How she knew who Thorin was Bilba didn't know but, given the other woman's obsession with wealth and power, she wasn't surprised. Petty as it was, she felt a brief burst of glee at the thought that all Fram had to his name was money, and not much at that.
Thorin gave no reaction. He pulled the reins of the pony, and it came to a stop, so close to Poppy that she was forced to jerk out of the way lest she get a face full of Bilba's gown.
Thorin dismounted easily on the far side of the horse, away from Poppy, and then carefully lifted Bilba down to stand next to him.
"Your Highness," Poppy started again, still only addressing Thorin.
"We'll be right back," Thorin addressed their entourage, sans his nephews, before offering his arm to Bilba. She took it and the two of them started up the hill. Fili and Kili fell in just behind them.
"Your Highness," Poppy's voice was demanding as she proceeded to step directly in their path, blocking their way. "I don't know what she's told you but-"
Her voice cut off in a startled shriek as Dwalin was suddenly there, standing between her and Thorin and Bilba. "The proper way to address a king," he said coldly. "is Your Majesty. Move."
Bilba was denied seeing the look on Poppy's face but did see when she stepped to the side huffing and muttering, "Well, I never," under her breath. She looked around, clearly expecting sympathy. Judging by how her face slowly reddened, she received none.
Thorin, who'd stopped in the path, tugged on Bilba's arm as Dwalin stepped out of the way and then they were moving again, up the hill.
As they made their way, Bilba caught sight of a door opening and saw Lobelia squeeze quickly out and scurry off in the opposite direction from where they were coming up. She had a hat on and clutched a basket in one hand, meaning she was probably headed to the market. Given the hit her reputation had undoubtedly suffered from the last time Bilba had been there, she imagined the other woman didn't want to risk losing what little status she had left. Staying in her house would mean admitting the King and Queen of Erebor did not feel her important enough to visit, while simply leaving would suggest she'd ducked them, the height of impropriety. Hence the basket and furtiveness, she hoped to claim she'd been at the market and simply missed their visit, somehow.
Bilba shook her head and Thorin raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"Just thinking of how utterly ridiculous the rules of society can sometimes get here," she said. There were rules for how to behave in polite society in every kingdom of course, and she agreed with the need for them, but the Shire seemed to take those rules and raise them to an almost ridiculous, and impossible to reach, standard.
The sound of another door opening caught her attention, and she sucked in a sharp breath as Priscilla appeared at the doorway of Bag End. Bilba's hand tightened on Thorin's arm until she could feel the outline of his bicep through his clothes.
Priscilla looked older, more worn and Bilba felt a burst of guilt. If she just had stayed in the Shire to begin with, or not come back after the quest, or insisted Adalgrim not come...
Priscilla came down the stairs, opened the gate and stepped out onto the path that ran in front of Bag End. Bilba came to a stop and, for a few seconds, the two simply stared at one another.
Then Priscilla stepped forward and raised her hands. Bilba stiffened, half worried she was about to get slapped, and equally determined to accept if it happened. Thorin, who'd also stiffened beside her, would probably be less than willing, but she was confident he would follow her lead.
Mostly confident.
Priscilla gently put her hands on either side of Bilba's face. She stared at her for a few seconds, eyes watering, before she suddenly threw her arms around Bilba and hugged her for all she was worth.
Bilba hesitated, and then carefully wrapped her own arms around the woman who'd been as much a mother to her as her own, if not more.
Priscilla pulled away, hands gripping Bilba's shoulders, and Bilba immediately started trying to apologize, her own eyes tearing up. "I'm so sorry, Priscilla, if I'd only-"
"Adalgrim made his own choices," Priscilla said gently, cutting her off. Grief entered her eyes and Bilba saw her consciously gather herself before continuing. "He would have been proud to have aided you, I'm sure of it." She gave a slightly watery smile. "The elf who brought him back, Legolas, he told me how much of a help Adalgrim was to you. He said my son died a hero."
"Of course he did," Bilba said without hesitation. "Was there ever any doubt he wouldn't? Look who his parents were."
The grief didn't leave Priscilla's eyes, but a fierce pride joined it and she gave a sharp nod, fingers briefly tightening on Bilba's shoulders before releasing her.
Movement drew her attention, and Bilba looked to the door of Bag End to see Seth carefully making his way down the stairs. Two bundles were gathered in his arms, and she sucked in a sharp breath.
Seth reached the open gate and Bilba carefully stepped forward, arms already outstretched. Seth gave her a slight smile, as he transferred them over and, then, for the first time in what felt like forever, Bilba was holding her sons in her arms again.
They looked almost exactly like the picture she'd carried of them in her mind and she found herself uttering a mental blessing for dwarven blood. Had they been hobbits she'd have left them as babies and returned to see them walking. They might even have been saying small words and all of it would have been a massive signpost of just how much of their growing up she'd missed.
Another fear that had lingered in her mind had been that somehow, someway, she'd lose the ability to tell them apart from one another. It was a fear she could now see was unfounded, however, as her eyes instantly identified each one.
Both were awake, eyes fixed on her and, for a second her heart jumped in her chest with the fear concern they wouldn't know her. Before it could take root, however, she was treated to two, identical, blinding smiles, to which she responded the only way she could respond.
By promptly bursting into tears.
She snuggled both babies close, blubbering over them in a quite un-queenly way, before reluctantly handing Ashrin off to Thorin. She lost Frerin a few seconds after that as he spotted Fili and proved he remembered Erebor's heir just as well as he remembered her. The look of relief on Fili's face as he took his tiny shadow told Bilba that she hadn't been the only one to fear returning to Bag End to find the babies looked at them as if they were strangers. She watched as Fili moved up closer to Thorin, Kili gathered with them, and felt something in her heart ease at the sight.
For so long, she'd done her best to fit into the Shire and Bag End, but it had never been quite right, never quite fit. Now she knew why.
Home had never been the Shire. She'd merely been a guest in it, simply passing through on her way to where she truly belonged.
Priscilla handed her a handkerchief with an affectionate sigh. "Queen of Erebor and you still can't manage to remember your handkerchiefs, can you?"
Bilba gave a watery laugh before taking a deep breath to settle herself. "I probably don't have to say how much we're in your debt. If you and Seth ever need anything-"
Priscilla rolled her eyes and huffed. "Bilba, you may be a queen now but you're not so big that I can't still put you over my knee. To think I'd ever help you expecting something in return-"
"I know," Bilba said with a half laugh. "I just - you know."
Priscilla sighed, eyes darting toward her entourage at the bottom of the hill. "I'd invite you in for tea, but I supposed it'd be rude to leave your friends waiting for you."
"We brought plenty of supplies," Bilba replied. "I was actually hoping you might come join us for tea." She left out the fact that, even then, some of Erebor's soldiers were setting up what amounted to a full-on pavilion in one of the empty fields surrounding Hobbiton, and that what she was calling "tea" was more of a feast with enough food for everyone in her entourage, plus more.
Priscilla's eyes widened. "Oh, I don't know. I don't think I'm dressed for such a thing."
Now Bilba laughed outright. "Believe me, I don't always dress like this. I was just-" She trailed off, slightly embarrassed to admit her reason for all the finery was showing up the people who'd rejected and cast her out.
Priscilla patted her on the shoulder. "I understand perfectly. I'm guessing you can expect to hear from your grandfather soon enough. You know how he is."
Bilba's eyes narrowed as the last interaction she'd had with her grandfather flashed through her mind, when he'd sat across from her and outright denied he even knew her. "I'm afraid I don't know of any grandfather in the Shire," she said, coldly. "If the Thain wishes to speak to Thorin, he can come himself and ask." She wouldn't put it past him to try and somehow get Thorin to make the trip to see him, just one more bit of Shire politics, trying to make it look as if he were so important that kings of Middle Earth made trips to see him, instead of the other way around.
Priscilla nodded. "I understand. In that case, I accept. Just give me a few minutes to grab my things."
"Okay."
Priscilla grabbed Seth's arm, pulling him away from where he'd been talking to Thorin, and managed to get him back upstairs and into Bag End. Bilba had a feeling she'd be back in a few minutes in a far fancier outfit, despite the insistence it wasn't necessary.
Thorin, Fili and Kili were still fussing over the babies so, with a sigh, Bilba sank down on the bench near the mailbox and surveyed the landscape. She still had a promise to keep to Adalgrim, which meant visiting his wife and daughter in person, not just to deliver his final messages but to assure them Erebor would be there for anything they needed.
Thorin came to sit next to her and Bilba leaned against him, wrapping one arm around his arm and watching with affection as Ashrin chewed on a strand of his father's hair with the same determination Thorin generally reserved for battle.
As she did, an odd feeling washed over her, one that had begun to grow steadily over the preceding month or so until she'd started to feel more and more certain that the Valar had blessed her in more ways than she could have ever possibly hoped for.
Tugging on Thorin's arm, she got him to lean over so she could kiss him on the cheek before snuggling against him with a contented sigh.
"What was that for?" Thorin asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Just happy," Bilba said. She gave him a slow, sidelong, mischievous look. "What do you think of the name Lily?"
He gave her a confused look. "Lily? It's a fair enough name, I suppose. Why?"
Bilba gave him a serene look and settled a hand over her stomach. "Just curious."
It took him a few seconds to catch on but, when he did, the shout of joy Thorin let out probably woke half the Shire and had the other half shaking their heads in censure.
Bilba simply smiled and shut her eyes as the heat of the afternoon lulled her into a light sleep.
She was content.
She was happy.
She was home.
