A/N: Thank you to everyone who has been leaving such lovely comments on this fic! I read (and get a kick out of a good portion) all of them, even if I don't always respond. You guys are a nice little beacon of joy in the hellscape that is 2020 -insert heart emoji here-

"Raise your elbow a little more—yes, just like that. You'll want t' keep it level with your cheek or even a wee bit higher. Make sure the arm holdin' the bow stays as rigid as possible when you draw back the arrow." Taking a step back, Kili inspected her posture and gave an affirmative nod. "Alright. Now, I'm going t' let you try actually shooting this time. It won't be a sharp arrow, but a hunting blunt."

Baylee cocked her head slightly as she looked at the dwarf. "A hunting blunt…?"

He nodded. "Aye. Like the name implies, they're not pointed. They're blunted because they're used more for target practice an' smaller game that would get destroyed by the larger broadhead arrowheads used for big game." From his quiver, he pulled out an arrow that, like he had said, had a blunt tip. Handing it to Baylee, he watched as she nocked it.

"And I aim by looking at the target, not at the tip of the arrow, correct?" she asked, wanting to double check that she had remembered his earlier instructions correctly.

"Aye. Don't worry if you don't hit it on your first few tries; instinctive shooting can be difficult. And don't forget about your anchor point, either—that's one o' the key parts o' this shooting style."

She nodded in understanding. Raising the bow back up, she did her best to keep her posture correct, but she didn't draw the arrow back just yet. She stared at the archery range's closest target and pulled the arrow back until she felt her hand brush the corner of her mouth. Only then did she loose the arrow.

And it soared right over the target.

"That's not too bad," Kili chuckled. "You were somewhat close, at least!"

Her brow rose and she turned her head to look at him. "That went at least two feet above the target," she told him.

"Still closer than I was expecting," he grinned cheekily. He held out another hunting blunt to her. "How did it feel, drawing the arrow back? Did it feel too hard to pull back…?"

"It felt a little bit hard, but I think it's something I could grow accustomed to after some time," she answered.

Nodding, he smiled. "Good, good—since it's a dwarven bow, I thought it might be just a touch too difficult for you, but I'm glad it's not. Then again, you've gained a bit of muscle already from our sword practices." His smile broadening, he patted her on the back. "Now, show me how you're holdin' the arrow."

"Like this," she said, nocking the arrow. She held it between her index and middle finger, all the rest tucked back against her palm.

"Try adding your middle finger into the draw," he told her. "It'll help keep the arrow a bit more stable on the string as you draw it. And when you aim, after your eyes have focused on the target, stick out the index finger o' the hand holding the bow. You can use that as a bit of a guide—once it comes into line with your focus, then you tuck it back, draw, an' release."

"Al-alright," she murmured, her brows furrowed slightly as Kili stepped back. To her, it almost felt like there were more steps to learning archery than there was learning how to use a sword. "Three fingers on the string, pointer finger to aim…" She nodded affirmatively to herself and, using the grip he had suggested, she looked at the center of the target. Raising the bow and holding out her finger, she continued to lift the bow until her finger was just in line with the target. She tucked her finger in, drew the arrow back to the corner of her mouth, and let go.

Kili's advice worked. While she hadn't hit the exact center of the target, she had gotten the outermost ring.

The prince let out a small, victorious cheer. "Second shot an' you've already hit the target!" he laughed. "That's better than when Fili was first learnin'!"

She felt her cheeks turn pink, but she smiled. "How many shots did it take him to hit the target?"

"Truth be told, I lost count after ten," he joked. "There's a reason he prefers melee weapons as opposed t' ranged weapons."

"Are you insulting my archery skills again, you twit?"

Both turned around, finding Fili walking towards them. Resting against the back of his neck with his wrists draped over them were his twin swords.

"Only a little bit," Kili grinned cheekily. "Baylee hit the target on her second try."

"Did she now?" He, too, grinned, watching as her cheeks grew red. "I have t' admit, that is a lot better than what I did when I was trying to learn."

She shrugged shyly, a small smile on her lips. "I think it's more or less beginner's luck," she told them. "That, and the fact that Kili spent nearly half an hour making me perfect my posture and practice drawing an arrow."

Fili looked at his brother, a look of feigned shock on his face. "Only half an hour? Uncle had us practicing for an hour at the very least!"

"Aye, well, I'm a wee bit less strict than him when it comes to training," Kili told him matter-of-factly. "Don't tell him I said that, though." He gave Baylee a playful wink before looking back at his brother only raise his brow as he saw Fili's swords. "You're still going to work on swords with her then?"

"O' course I am. Even if she takes to archery, she'll still need to know how to defend herself close up." He smiled down at Baylee. "I hope you still remember the parry positions. I know it's been a little while."

"Only a week," she chuckled. "But yes, I do still remember them." As Kili handed her another hunting blunt, she knocked it.

"Are you sure she should be using one of your swords, though? She was using mine and it's a few pounds lighter than either of yours."

"I'm alright with that," Baylee told them. "Yes, it'll probably tire me out a bit faster, but it'll also be good for building muscle, right?"

Kili nodded in acquiesce. "I suppose that is true…and you do need to gain a bit of muscle. Your upper arm is about as thick as my wrist."

She pouted up at him. "It is not—It's thicker by a good two inches!"

The brothers snorted. "Alright, alright…it is a wee bit thicker—but not much," Kili grinned. "Now go on an' show Fi how you can hit the target."

The pout still on her lips, she turned back around to face the target. Getting herself into position, she focused her vision on the target. Doing the same as before, she raised the bow and used her pointer finger to align the shot. She drew back the arrow and loosed it, watching as it soared through the air and hit a few inches to the left of the arrow already in the target.

"See?" Kili grinned. "And it was fairly close to her second shot!" He offered Baylee another arrow; once she took it, he crossed his arms over his chest. "She might be a natural with the bow."

"I doubt that," she said, readying this fourth arrow. She then fired it, watching as it went a bit to the right of the other two.

"You never know," Fili told her. "Even those who are naturals need to start somewhere. Ki and I weren't born being able to swing our swords or fire our bows with such skill."

"You still can't fire a bow with any skill," Kili snickered.

Ignoring his comment, Fili continued. "Everything takes practice, whether it's learnin' a weapon, learnin' how to cook—"

"Which he also can't do."

"—Or even something seemingly as simple as sewing." He reached over, thwacking Kili upside the head. "The only exception I know o' would be Kili, who has been the foremost expert on how t' be a prat since the day he was born."

Baylee burst into a fit of giggles as Kili pouted at his older brother. She took yet another arrow as it was handed to her.

"Aim for the next farthest target," he instructed, still wearing the pout. "We'll make this your last arrow for today before I hand you off t' Middle Earth's foremost expert on being an arse."

Hearing Fili snicker behind her, Baylee did as instructed. Just as before, she focused on the target as she nocked the arrow. Her nose scrunched up ever so slightly; she knew the target was farther away than the first, but how far away it was was an entirely different matter. While part of her thought it seemed to be about fifty feet away, another part of her questioned if, maybe, it was further than that?

Shaking her head slightly, she refocused on the target before lifting the bow and taking aim. As she loosed the arrow, she watched as it grazed past the top edge of the target.

"Not bad," Fili grinned. "To be honest, I didn't expect you t' hit it."

"I didn't expect to hit it, either," she said with a small chuckle. "Seems like it's a bit closer than I thought it was, too."

"What makes you say that?" Kili questioned, his brow rising.

Her cheeks turned a touch pink. "Well…I wasn't sure how far away it was, since I can't tell too well anymore. So, I aimed more for the top of the target than the middle."

They nodded in understanding. "A good precaution, honestly," Fili told her. "What you could have done instead was draw the arrow back a wee bit further than you normally would. That'd put more 'oomph' behind it, sending it further."

"As bad as he is at archery, he's tellin' the truth," Kili said. "Just don't pull back too far—you end up using too much strength doing that an' you lose the arrow's stability." He patted her atop the head and took the bow from her. "But, we'll see how you do with that tomorrow. For now, it's time for you t' go play with swords."

"The playing doesn't come yet," Fili jokingly scolded. "She has to learn to use 'em right first." He motioned for Baylee to follow after him while Kili wandered off to fetch his hunting blunts. "We'll start off with a little refresher round t' see how well you remember the positions," he told her as they walked. "Once you're warmed up, we'll try it without me calling out the numbers."

She nodded. "Got it…Though, I've been wondering something lately."

"Hm?" His brow rose as he looked down at her.

"Well, I was thinking about how Nori's teaching da' to use two knives as well as a sword. Shouldn't I be learning how to use knives instead of a sword? They seem like they'd be better suited for someone of my—well, my stature."

He quietly laughed. "Admittedly, I thought about that, too. And you're partly right: Knives would be good for you—but only if you were bein' sneaky. The problem with knives is when it comes time to block, since you need a lot of strength even when deflecting a blow. With knives, you can block with just one or both knives. Blockin' or parrying with one gives you the opportunity t' attack with the other, but it also means the full force of your opponent's swing is going to come down on that one blade—and it's usually a short blade, so you have less leverage t' knock them away. Blocking or parrying with both leaves you more open for attack from your opponent. Neither of which is very good for a little hobbit lass like yourself."

"While using a sword gives me more leverage for deflecting blows and can let me use both hands to steady the blade when I need to block against a stronger opponent?"

"Aye, very good, Baylee. It also puts more distance between the two of you." As they came up on a wide, circular stone terrace, he brought them to a halt. "Anyway, it's better t' learn how to use a sword first—it means you get to learn the basics of swordplay, which you need in order to learn how to use other various styles. Like duel wielding swords or daggers."

She nodded in understanding. "What about axes?"

He chuckled, his brow rising slightly. "Axes…now those don't take much finesse t' use. But they're definitely a weapon you need strength for. There are a few tricks you can use with them, but it depends on how long the axe's beard is." Drawing one of his swords, he flipped it around, offering her the handle.

Taking it, she gave him a curious look. "Axes have beards?"

"Aye, they do, but not the kind we dwarves have." Reaching down, he pulled a small throwing axe from his boot and held it up for her to see. "See how the blade curves down?" She nodded. "That bit's the beard. If the beard o' an axe is long enough, you can use it to hook an enemy's shield. From there, you can yank them off balance or even pull the shield away."

"If ever I'm chopping wood and get attacked, I'll remember that," she joked, earning a snort from him as he returned the axe to his boot.

"Something tells me you don't chop much wood to begin with," he chuckled. Standing upright, he drew the other sword from the sheath before tossing it aside.

"Not really, no. But I am quite good at making kindling." She grinned at him. "But yes, I'm fairly useless when it comes to actually splitting wood. Lifting heavy platters of food and drink, on the other hand…"

A teasing grin came to Fili's lips. "Well, perhaps by the time you return t' the Shire, you'll have enough muscle and skill with weapons that you'll be chopping wood faster than any other hobbit."

She laughed, her brow rising. "Now that I highly doubt!"

Unbeknownst to the pair, they were being watched. Bilbo stood on a balcony of a nearby building, watching as his daughter slowly went through the movements of sword fighting as Fili called out positions. Behind him, he could hear the others as they ate some lunch; to both his and Baylee's relief, their attitudes towards the elves had become much more courteous. Of course, some of it was forced, but at least they were putting in an effort.

'It'll be a shame when it we have to leave in a few days,' he thought, chewing on the stem of his pipe. He had run out of tobacco already and, not wanting to admit it to his daughter, hadn't asked if he could use some of hers. 'It's so peaceful here…And the elves are so friendly. I can ask them to explain something to me and they'll be more than happy to give me an in-depth explanation. And their maps! Oh, their maps are so gorgeously drawn!'

His attention was drawn back down to the sparring lesson as he heard the clanging of metal. Brows furrowing, he watched as Fili swung his sword at Baylee from various angles. The prince had started off nice and slow, but his pace was quickly picking up and he was no longer calling out the positions. Bilbo felt his heart starting to race with worry as he watched Baylee block and parry the blows; with the blades uncovered, he knew there was a chance she could get hurt…

A hand suddenly appeared in front of him and waved itself before his eyes. He let out a startled squeak and hopped backwards, nearly dropping his pipe in fright.

"I thought you'd be lost in your thoughts, but I didn't expect you t' be that lost in them," Bofur chuckled, his brow rising in amusement. "What're you so thoughtful about?" As he spoke, he tamped a bit of tobacco down into the bowl of his pipe and, seeing that Bilbo had none in his pipe, offered him the tobacco pouch.

"Th-thank you," he sighed, taking the pouch. Pinching some of the leaves, he put them in his pipe bowl before carefully tamping them down. "You could have tapped me on the shoulder instead of waving your hand in front of me like that, though."

Bofur glanced over at him, holding his pipe with his teeth as he used a match to light it. "I think I would have gotten the same reaction out o' ya regardless o' how I got your attention," he replied. "What're you so thoughtful about?" he asked again. Once his pipe was lit, he slid the matches over to Bilbo.

A sigh left the hobbit's mouth. "A number of things, admittedly. But the two at the forefront of my mind are this place and Baylee."

"Why don't you start with Rivendell, then?"

"Well, it's just so…calm and peaceful here." He took a moment to light his pipe, shaking the match out once the leaves were lit. "I daresay I like it more than the Shire. No nosy Sackville-Bagginses, no need to worry about how my garden's doing—no need to worry at all, actually." As he took in a bit of smoke, he looked over at Bofur; he was more than a little surprised to find that his tobacco had hints of cherry to it. "I hate to admit it, but I just feel so at ease and relaxed here that I'm almost loathe to continue on the journey."

Bofur quietly chuckled, smoke coming out of his mouth in small puffs. "You don't hate to admit it," he said, his voice having a bit of mirth to it. "It's us dwarves who hate t' admit it—It is nice here, even if it's o' elven make, so I can't say that I blame you much for not wantin' to leave."

"But I know we have to," Bilbo then said, stubbornness in his voice. "We have a mountain that needs reclaiming, after all. Which is why, when we leave in two more days, I'll not be complaining."

"At least, you won't complain until the end o' the second day after we've left," he joked. Looking at Bilbo, he found a pout on his lips. "Oh, don't give me that pout, lad. We're all goin' to miss it t' some degree." Taking in another mouthful of smoke, he closed his eyes and savored the flavor for a few seconds. "Like you said, this place is peaceful…an', once you get used to it, the food isn't so bad, either. Music could do with some work, but eh. Elves like their lullabies an' we dwarves like our dancin' songs." He then opened an eye and glanced at Bilbo from the corner of it. "Now. What about your wee lassie? You're still worried about her eye?"

"How can I not be?" he sighed. "But, in this case? It's not her eye that's troubling me." He nodded down at the sparring pair. "It's-It's…that."

"That?" Bofur repeated, brow cocked. "And what is 'that' that I'm supposed t' be looking at? Fili?"

He shook his head. "No, not Fili. It-it's-it's her down there, learning how to fight with a sword. It's her learning to fight at all!" A heavy sigh left his mouth and he slumped forward against the railing, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know you dwarves encourage both sexes to learn how to fight, but we're hobbits—we don't encourage anyone to fight! And-and as her father, I almost feel like I've-I've-I've failed her in a way. She could play with wooden swords and toy bows all she wanted when she was a child, but-but what she's holding right now is not a toy! It could very much kill her if Fili swings too hard or-or-or if she misjudges something!"

Reaching over, he set his hand on Bilbo's shoulder. "There you go, overreactin' again," he sighed. "She's goin' to be fine, Bilbo. Fili's a good teacher an' he understands her limitations. He's not goin' to let her get hurt."

"While part me of knows you're right, the rest of me is wanting to race down there and yank that sword out of her hands before making her go rest."

"Well, you need t' tell that part o' yourself that Baylee is an adult who can make her own decisions an' who knows her own boundaries." Giving his shoulder a small squeeze, he then let go in favor of leaning forward on the railing.

"I know I don't know much 'bout fatherhood, but I am an uncle t' a whole brood o' little ones," he continued. "You want t' keep them close at hand an' all swaddled up, nice and safe from the world. But you can't keep them like that forever. Either they'll wriggle free on their own and be resentful towards you or you're going t' have t' help them an' gently guide them."

Bilbo sighed heavily, smoke furling out of his mouth and nose. "She's so small, it's hard to think of her as an adult at times…In my mind, she's thirty-three and perfectly capable of taking care of herself. But in my heart, she's still my tiny little girl."

"You're her da'; she'll always be your tiny little girl. Even when she's old and grey." He lightly shook his head and let out a quiet laugh. "And it's alright t' worry over her…you just can't let that worry dictate both your lives." He watched as Fili had Baylee start coming at him. It was actually rather adorable—like watching a dwarrowling first learning how to swordfight.

Bilbo watched them as well, his heart jumping every time Fili stepped forward with a counter attack. "I know," he murmured. Taking Bofur by surprise, he let out a small chuckle. "My mother used to say the same thing when Baylee was still just a toddler. 'She'll always be your little girl, Bilbo, but she'll never learn if you're always hovering over her'."

"Your mum sounds like a smart woman."

"Oh, she was. She was also a good deal more courageous and daring than I ever will be," he told him. "She was where my Took blood comes from. Before she married my father, she was well known for disappearing off into the wilds for weeks at a time, seeking out adventures."

Bofur's brow rose. "I think you've plenty o' courage an' daring inside o' you," he countered. "Takes plenty o' pluck to come on a journey like this, especially when you've no connection to it." He took a long, slow pull from his pipe, watching as the leaves down in the bowl glowed cherry-red. "You need to have more faith in yourself." Turning around, he leaned back against the railing, his elbows resting atop it. The others, he saw, were almost done eating.

"It's almost sickening, how optimistic you are about things."

He shrugged. "Why go through life thinkin' that the worst will always happen? That's no way t' live. Even when heartbreak an' despair do creep in, it's always best t' look for the good in things. It's the only way to make yourself keep goin' sometimes."

His brows furrowing, Bilbo looked at him. "…The way you're talking makes it sound like you have personal experience with that."

"Aye, lad, I do," he said, his voice a little quieter. "Life for me an' Bombur didn't start out too kindly. We lost our parents before either o' us were adults an' I found myself havin' to work in the mines t' support us…at least, until Bifur came along."

He smiled at the memory of his cousin coming and collecting them from the dingy little hovel he and Bombur had called 'home'. "When he took us in, things started to get better. He taught me how t' make toys and, between the two of us making toys an' him hunting, we were able t' live a fairly stable life. Bombur got himself a job as an architect an' eventually got himself a wife. An' it's actually through her that we learned about the quest. Gerdi—his wife—is best friends with Lady Dis, Thorin's sister."

At that, Bilbo's brows rose in surprise. "I knew Fili and Kili were Thorin's nephews, but I had expected them to come from a brother, not a sister."

Bofur chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "No, no…They're the offspring o' Dis. Though, Thorin did have a brother: Frerin. But he died on the battlefield at Azanulzibar."

"Azanulzibar?"

He nodded. "Aye. That was the battle Balin spoke o' a week or two ago."

Bilbo somewhat frowned. "Was that really just a week or two ago?"

"It's easy t' lose track o' time when on the road." Smiling, he then nodded towards the dining table. "You best go steal some bites t' eat before it's all gone, by the way. I know for a fact that you haven't eaten since breakfast an' being that it's well past noon…Can't have our burglar goin' hungry now, can we? Especially since he quite enjoys his veggies."

A small, but teasing, pout came to his lips. "You lot could do with a few more vegetables in your life," he joked. Looking down into the bowl of his pipe, he found it to be nothing but ashes anyway. He turned it over and lightly tapped it against the stone baluster. "You won't have to strain so much, if you catch my drift."

Bofur burst out into laughter—it was the first time he had heard Bilbo make a crude joke. "An' here I was thinking you were too prim an' proper for jokes like that," he grinned.

"I'll have you know that I know quite a bit of crude humor," he smiled. "Usually, it only comes out when I've had a few drinks, though."

An almost wicked grin came to the dwarf's lips. "Oh, really? Well, I know who we're gettin' drunk tonight."

Bilbo's cheeks flushed pink. "D-don't you dare," he half laughed, not quite sure if Bofur was joking.

"An' why not? You've seen us drunk off our arses the other night. Now it's our turn t' see you drunk off your arse!"

Cringing at the memory of how the dwarves had easily put away two barrels of wine a night or two ago, Bilbo shook his head. "I'd rather not embarrass myself in front of my daughter, thank you very much."

He snorted. "Then we'll wait until she's gone to bed."

"That wouldn't work. I'd just wake her up with my drunken singing." He then paused as he realized what he had said.

"Aha! So, you're the type who gets more fun t' be around when he's drunk!" He gave Bilbo a small nudge. "So, we'll put the lass t' bed on the opposite side o' Rivendell, then we'll get you drunk! How does that sound?"

Still unable to tell if Bofur was joking or not, Bilbo merely let out a small, noncommittal grunt as he followed him towards the table.

The Man in the Moon was drinking deep,
and the cat began to wail;
A dish and a spoon on the table danced,
The cow in the garden madly pranced,
and the little dog chased his tail.

The Man in the Moon took another mug,
and then rolled beneath his chair;
And there he dozed and dreamed of ale,
Till in the sky the stars were pale,
and dawn was in the air.

Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat:
'The white horses of the Moon,
They neigh and champ their silver bits;
But their master's been and drowned his wits,
and the Sun'll be rising soon!'

Baylee quietly groaned in frustration as her father's voice echoed throughout the area. She pulled her pillow overtop her head, hoping to drown out the sounds, but being that they were out on the balcony only a few yards from her, it was of little use. Normally, she rather enjoyed Bilbo's singing—but when it was nearing midnight and he was quite obviously drunk, she didn't have much appreciation for it. What didn't help was how most of the dwarves were just as drunk as him and were attempting to sing along. Dwalin, however, was not singing.

No.

Dwalin was shouting the lyrics.

As another verse of the song started up, she grumbled to herself and crawled out of the makeshift bed. Keeping the pillow and blanket in the center of the cushion, she rolled it in half and picked it up before carting it across the room. She had to set the bundle down momentarily in order to open the door, but there was little trouble in picking it back up.

'Don't they realize people are trying to sleep?' she thought to herself as she walked down the hall. 'I pity the elves…Their hearing is so much better than ours, it must sound like a drunken rabble is screaming in their ears.' She decided that she was going to walk as far away as it took to no longer hear the singing, even if it meant walking all the way across Rivendell.

Thankfully, it didn't mean going that far. It had only taken her a couple of hallways to get the majority of the music to fade into nothing more than a murmur. A sigh of relief leaving her mouth, she dropped the bundle onto the floor, making sure to press it right up against the wall so she wouldn't be in anyone's way.

Before she sat down, however, she looked a bit further down the hallway only to see the gentle, warm glow of a lantern spilling into the hall. Her brow rising, she crept her way towards the archway before pressing herself against the wall. Then, careful as could be, she peeked around the corner.

There, on a covered veranda, were Thorin and Fili. They were each on their own pallet, with the lantern between them. Fili, she could see, was quite obviously asleep, his limbs spread out and taking up the entire cushion. Thorin, on the other hand, was awake, his hands tucked behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. Judging by his heavy lids, though, he was well on his way to falling asleep.

Not wanting to bother either of them, she turned to head back to her own pallet. Before she could take a step, however, she heard Thorin softly call out, "You should be sleeping, Mouse-Lass; not sneaking around."

Her cheeks growing hot, she turned back around and poked her head into the room. "It's hard to sleep when there are eleven drunken dwarves and a drunk hobbit bellowing out folk songs," she replied, her voice also quiet.

Pushing himself up onto his elbows, Thorin looked at her with a raised brow. "I take it, then, that you're also seeking peace an' quiet from the rabble?" he asked with a quiet chuckle.

She nodded. "I am…and it seems I sought quiet in the same direction as you and Fili."

"Go fetch your bedding and bring in here," he told her. "You won't get stepped on in here."

Doing as ordered, she went back down the hall and, rather than picking the whole thing up again, simply grabbed the corner of the cushion and started to drag it. Thorin was barely able to stifle a laugh as she came into the room; she very much reminded him of when Fili and Kili were naught but dwarrowlings who dragged their favorite blanket or stuffed toy behind them as they sought refuge from nightmares. She was even close to the same size they had been at the time, making it all the more amusing to him.

"I'm surprised you lasted as long as you did in that room," he told her as she got herself settled. "Fili and I left long before the singing started."

"I did manage to get in a small nap," she said, making sure to keep her voice soft. "But then Dwalin started yelling along with a song rather than singing it…"

Thorin couldn't help but snort. "Ah, yes…Dwalin's a good fiddler, but a horrible singer. He must be quite drunk if he's attemptin' to sing, though…normally, he outright refuses."

"Ah, so we can expect him, along with the others, to be mighty cranky come tomorrow afternoon," she chuckled, her brow raised. Pulling her blanket over herself, she curled up in the center of the cushion.

"I'm afraid so." He looked back up at the ceiling, his hands returning to the back of his head. "I recommend staying rather far from them until around dinner. By then, they should have had enough food and non-alcoholic drink to make their heads hurt less."

She nodded in understanding, glancing over at him. "I'll do my best to remember that," she said. "…Why were you still up, by the way?"

"Hm?" He looked at her from the corner of his eye.

"Fili's obviously been asleep for quite some time, but you were still awake when I found you."

"Ah…Like you, I did manage to get a small nap in, but my bladder woke me up about twenty minutes before you arrived." He chuckled quietly. "But it's been a challenge, falling back asleep. I suppose my mind is just too busy thinking about how we'll be leaving the day after tomorrow."

"That's understandable." She covered her mouth as she yawned. "As leader of the company, you've a lot of responsibilities and worries on your shoulders."

He nodded slowly as he let out a soft sigh. "My biggest worry is how we'll no longer have ponies, making our trek slower and, possibly, more arduous. Especially when we get to the mountains…having ponies would have been nice."

"I wouldn't think ponies would be good in that sort of environment."

"They're sure-footed and hardy creatures. I daresay they would have walked the mountain paths with more grace and familiarity than we dwarves." A soft laugh left his mouth and he turned his head to look at her. He wasn't quite sure why, but talking with her felt almost…calming. Soothing, even. Perhaps it was because she didn't treat him much like the others did—that is, with a mixture of reverence and fear most subjects viewed their kings with—and instead treated him like he was a normal person? Of course, there were times he had noticed that she had been nervous or awkward around him, but those times were lessening.

Talking with her could also be quite humbling at times—namely when the small lass was telling him off. Though she was polite about it, she was still stern.

"And I suppose Lord Elrond isn't willing to part with any of his horses," she chuckled. Stealing a peek at him, she found him watching her; she was thankful her face was now mostly hidden by her bandage and her blanket. "Which is fine. I don't think either da' or me could lift our legs high enough to get out feet into those stirrups."

He barely restrained a snort at the mental image of the two hobbits trying to climb onto a horse. "No offense, Mouse-Lass, but the stirrups would, more than likely, sit above your head."

"It depends on who's stirrups they are," she replied, matter-of-factly, though Thorin could hear some amusement in her tone. "If they're on Gandalf's horse, then they'll come down to my chin. Anyone else's and they might reach the top of my head."

Her humor took him by surprise and, once more, he found himself barely able to contain his laughter.

"What? It's just the truth," she said, her voice even more lighthearted now. "I mean, if it were a horse meant for me, then I don't think the horse would even have stirrups. My feet would scarcely reach the bottom of the saddle." Hearing Fili mumble something in his sleep, she quickly shut her mouth and shrank down into her pillow a bit.

Thorin turned his head in time to watch his nephew roll over. His hand groped around for his blanket before finding part of it. Fili pulled the blanket up and over himself; having grabbed the middle of it, however, only part of him was now covered. Then, with a heavy and content sigh, he settled back down.

"He's always done that," Thorin murmured, lightly shaking his head. "He wakes up just enough to find his blanket and then goes back to sleep."

Baylee peeked out from under her blanket. "My best friend's littlest sister does the same thing," she chuckled. "Though, she's still quite young, so she usually brings that blanket everywhere with her."

"Fili was the same with his blanket when he was younger…he'd take it everywhere with him." He let out a soft laugh. "We all thought he'd end up wearing it down to shreds because of how often it was dragged across rocky ground or got caught on bushes…"

"Did that happen? Or did he give it up before that point?"

"He didn't give it up so much as he gave it away. When Kili was born, he passed it on to him."

"That was quite sweet of him," she said, a small smile on her lips. "Something tells me, though, that if Rosalina were to get a little brother or sister, she wouldn't give her blanket up to them." She then paused. "…Was it Rosalina? Or was Rosalie the youngest…? No, definitely Rosalina…"

He chuckled, his brow rising. "You can't keep track of your friend's siblings?" he asked.

"Usually I can, but they all have 'rose' in their name, so it can be a challenge at times," she explained. "There's Rosemary, Rosamunde, Primrose, Rosalyn, Rosalie, and Rosalina. Primrose is the easiest to remember, thankfully, and not just because of the 'prim' in her name…" She shook her head and quietly laughed. "Da' likes to call her 'Primrose and Proper' because she's constantly making sure I behave properly for a woman of my status."

"Is that so? I take it, then, when you return t' the Shire, you'll be in for quite the scolding." There was humor in his voice and, as Baylee peeked at him again, on his face.

"Oh, that doesn't even come close to it. I'll be hearing about how I up and left for an adventure with a troupe of dwarves and a wizard until the day I die, I'm sure." She let out a quiet laugh only to end up covering her mouth as she yawned. "In her mind, however, the biggest offenses will be that I didn't bid her farewell and the fact that I'm the only female in the company."

"I wasn't aware that it was bad form to be the only woman traveling in a group."

"If da' weren't here, it could be considered an extremely scandalous act on my part. Even with him here, though, there will still be some rumors spreading around the Shire, I'm sure."

His brow rose. "Why would it be considered scandalous if your father weren't here? If you don't mind my asking, that is."

She would have cocked her head if she weren't laying down. "…I take it, then, dwarves don't have any taboos about men and women traveling around together or even just being alone together if they're not related?" When Thorin shook his head, she quietly laughed once more. "Well, you're lucky then. Among hobbits, it's rather frowned upon for an unmarried, unrelated male and female to do anything alone together because, Valar forbid, they could be fooling around or having some premarital romps under the bedsheets."

This time, he was unable to stifle a snort, though Fili didn't seem to stir whatsoever from the noise. "I do agree that we dwarves are lucky in that regard. Then again, 'premarital romps under the bedsheets' are one of two ways we dwarves become engaged, so we refrain from such activities until we're sure we want to be with the other for life."

"What's the other way you become engaged?"

"If it's a female being proposed to, then her lover will find the most ornate of necklaces they can for her. If it's a male that's being proposed to, then his lover will find the best weaponsmith around and commission his weapon of choice from them." He rolled onto his side, tucking an arm under his pillow and pulling his blanket up a bit.

She found his phrasing interesting; he made it almost seem like it the couple didn't have to be male and female in order to get married. Of course, she knew that not all couples were male and female—there were some that were two males or two females—but, as far as she knew, males could only marry females.

"What about hobbits?" he then asked, drawing her from her thoughts. "How do they become engaged?"

A soft laugh left her mouth. "It's a long process…First, it's always the male who proposes—never the woman. Secondly, the male has to ask permission from his beloved's parents in order to marry her, let alone propose to her. If they deny him, then that's that. He can't propose to or marry her—though, he's sometimes given hard-to-complete tasks in order to prove his devotion to his beloved."

She covered her mouth again as she yawned before excusing herself. "If, however, the parents agree, then he has to find or make a ring for his beloved. It can't be just any ring, of course. It has to be the perfect ring. After that, he has to once again get approval from her parents. If they like the ring, then he can go off and propose in any way he'd like. Most choose to arrange a romantic, moonlit-picnic or wait until his birthday."

"Why his birthday and not hers? Wouldn't it be more appropriate to propose on her birthday, given that's when she'll be given gifts?"

Baylee was more than a little surprised to see that, despite how tired he looked, he wore a look of genuine interest as he listened to her. "Hobbits give away gifts on their birthdays," she explained. "Is it the other way around for dwarves?"

He nodded. "And for humans. After all, it's a day to celebrate their anniversary of life. It's a bit curious that hobbits do the opposite. Do you give gifts to everyone or just your closest friends and family?"

"Interesting…I'm not sure why we give gifts on our birthdays, but it's how it's always been done. And, really, the amount of gifts given depends on how much you want to spend either in time or money. Some people give gifts to everyone, others only their closest friends and family. Personally, I only give gifts to those I see on a regular basis and their gift is usually some form of dessert." She covered her mouth as a third yawn crept up on her.

A bit of guilt came to Thorin's eyes as he noticed just how tired she looked. "I'm sorry…You're exhausted and I keep asking you all these questions. I should let you sleep."

She gave him a reassuring, albeit tired, smile. "It's alright. After all, it's only fair you get to ask me about hobbitish culture when I've asked you about dwarvish history. Though, I do admit sleep would be a good thing for us both to get."

Nodding, he, quietly laughed. "Then we can continue questioning each other about our cultures another time. Goodnight, Mouse-Lass."

"Goodnight, Oakenshield," she chuckled.