"How close do you think they are?"
"Hard to say…Maybe two leagues? Possibly three?"
"They look like they're moving in the opposite direction as us, though. So there's that, at least."
Father and daughter had their heads poking out from behind a large boulder as they peered through the fading daylight. As Bilbo focused on Azog's riders and tried to count how many there were, Baylee checked the area immediately around them. From what she could see, there was nothing they needed to worry about—aside from the riders, of course.
Hearing a loud sniff, she turned her head to the left and let out a small gasp. Grabbing the back of her father's jacket, she pulled him down behind the rock with her. Her eyes were wide and her face had paled slightly.
"What? What is it?" he whispered.
"To our left. Be very careful."
Frowning, he slowly rose up again until he could just barely see overtop the rock. His brows rose and he quickly ducked back down. "That is an enormous bear."
"And it's only a few hundred yards away—I think. It's a bit hard to tell."
He swallowed hard and, grabbing her hand, started to guide her back down the rocky path. It was a bit of a perilous descent; not only was Bilbo rushing, but with the sun setting, it was getting hard to see where the rocks were. More than once, Baylee hissed in pain as she stubbed her toes or Bilbo quietly swore when he stepped on one. When they could hear the grumblings of the dwarves and Gandalf, however, he slowed their pace, making it easier for Baylee to keep up.
"They're back!" Bombur chirped when he saw the two hobbits scrambling down the side of a rock.
"How close is the pack?" Dwalin questioned before either could utter a word.
"Too close," Bilbo panted, leaning over to rest his hands on his knees. "Th-three leagues a-a-at the most."
"But that's not the worst of it," Baylee added. "There was—"
"Have the wargs picked up our scent?" Dwalin interjected.
"Not yet, but they will," Baylee answered. "We have another problem, though."
Gandalf stepped forward. "Did they see you?"
Shaking his head, Bilbo stood upright again. "N-no, that's not it."
A smile spread across the wizard's face. "What did I tell you? Both as quiet as a mouse. Excellent burglar and Mouse-Lass material."
As the dwarves started grin and congratulate Bilbo and Baylee on a job well done, the former pursed his lips. "Will you—Will you just listen?!" he suddenly snapped, making the rest of the company look at him in shock.
"There's something else out there!" Baylee pipped up. "M-maybe more dangerous than the wargs!"
At that, Gandalf frowned. "What form did it take?" he demanded. "Like a bear?"
The hobbits exchanged curious glances. "Y-yes, but bigger," Bilbo said.
"Much bigger," Baylee added.
Bofur frowned as he looked up at the wizard. "You knew about this beast!?" He didn't like that Gandalf seemingly ignored him and walked away. Shaking his head, he turned to face the group. "I say we double back."
"And be run down by a pack of orcs?" Thorin questioned, his brow rising.
"There is a house." Gandalf let out the smallest of sighs as he turned around to face the group once more. "It's not far from here. We might be able to take refuge there."
Thorin's eyes narrowed slightly; he didn't like the guarded way in which Gandalf spoke. "Whose house?" he questioned. "Are they friend or foe?"
He shook his head. "Neither. He will help us…or he will kill us." He watched as the group exchanged worried glances with one another; he knew that they didn't at all like this option.
"What choice do we have?" Thorin grumbled after a moment. He jumped as a roar unlike any they had ever heard before echoed through the night; whatever creature made that noise had to have been truly monstrous in size.
"None," came Gandalf's grim reply.
Once more, the dwarves and hobbits found themselves running from their enemies in pursuit of shelter. Gandalf was at the forefront of the group, doing his best to urge the others to keep up. Unlike the seemingly tireless wizard, however, the dwarves and hobbits still ached from escaping Goblin Town just two days ago and every step they took made their legs and their lungs burn.
Over open land and through forested land, they ran. In the distance, they could hear the growling and the snarling of Azog and his riders. Even further in the distance, they could hear the roaring of the great bear; but whether it was following them or the warg riders, they didn't want to stop and find out.
"It's not much further now!" Gandalf called as they ran through a patch of oak forest.
A curse suddenly arose from the middle of the group as Bilbo's foot got caught on a root, sending him tumbling forward. Before he could get back to his feet, however, Bofur ran by and, grabbing the back of his coat, lifted him up and threw the hobbit over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
From his new vantage point, he could see the other dwarves huffing and puffing as they ran. Though he was thankful to be carried, breathing was still a bit of a chore, as Bofur's shoulder was jabbing right into his sternum. He tried to not think about it as he searched for his daughter; he knew she wasn't at the front of the group, so when he failed to see her towards the back, he started to panic.
Just as he was about to call out for her, the bear roared again, the sound making them all stop in their tracks. It was much closer now, bringing terror to their hearts.
"Keep running!" Gandalf called, holding his staff aloft like a banner for them to follow.
As the arrangement of the group shifted, Bilbo finally spotted Baylee. Like him, she had been plucked up and was draped over Fili's shoulder.
The group was surrounded by bright, warm sunlight as they came out of the shadow of the forest. Bilbo blinked many times, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the change in brightness. He heard Gandalf shout something, but what, he couldn't understand. Pushing himself up a bit, he managed to turn just enough to see a pleasant looking cottage up ahead. They didn't seem to be too much farther away, making him sigh with relief.
But that relief was short lived.
It was as they were passing through the front gate that they heard the bear's roar—it was even closer now. So close, in fact, that the bear burst forth from the forest, sending leaves and broken branches in all directions. Letting out a second roar, it ran at full speed towards the house. The color drained from Bilbo's face and he felt faint at the very sight of it.
"Open the door! Quickly!" Gandalf ordered.
Bilbo, his eyes fixed on the fast-approaching beast, didn't see Thorin shove past them, nor did he see him lift the front latch of the door. What he did see, however was just how fast the bear was moving. When the dwarves and Gandalf rushed into the cottage, the bear had reached the front gate.
Bofur quickly set him down on the ground before turning around to help push the doors shut. Fili darted over, practically dropping Baylee in Bilbo's arms before also racing back to help as well. The hobbits let out yelps of surprise when the bear's monstrous head forced itself against the closing doors, trying to push its way inside. It snapped its jaws at the dwarves and Bilbo could see that its teeth were at least as long as his hand. The combined might of the dwarves proved too much for it and, with a loud 'thunk' followed by a 'thud', the doors had snapped shut and the bar slid into place.
"Wh-what was that?!" Ori stammered, his eyes wide as he turned to look at Gandalf.
Gandalf, his shoulders still heaving from their run, glanced first at Ori then at the door. "That is our host," he told answered. He ignored the looks of bewilderment and fear from the others. "His name is Beorn and he is a skin-changer." He turned away from the group, making to lead them away from the door. "Sometimes he has the appearance of a great, strong man, Other times, a huge, black bear."
"Is-is he that foul tempered when he's a man?" Bilbo dared to ask. He shrank back slightly, using his daughter as somewhat of a shield as Gandalf shot him a scolding look.
"The bear is unpredictable," he answered, "though the man can be reasoned with." A tired sigh left his mouth as he continued walking. "However, he is not overly fond of dwarves. But, for tonight, at least, you are safe here. You can rest easy knowing that no orcs will be allowed near this place."
"He's goin' away!" Ori chirped. He turned away from the door where he had been spying through a crack.
Dori shook his head as he dragged his youngest brother away from the door. "Get away from there! It's not natural—none o' this is." He shook his head disapprovingly. "It's clear he's under some sort o' dark spell."
The wizard let out a sarcastic laugh. "Don't be a fool. He is under no one's enchantment but his own, Master Dori."
"Da'?" Baylee quietly asked.
"Ye-yes, dear?" he replied, looking down at her.
"You can put me down now."
He blinked, suddenly realizing that he was still holding her. If his face wasn't already red from all the running, his cheeks would have been a bit pink in embarrassment. "Oh, I'm sorry, dear." Setting her down, he watched her brushed off her dress.
As she did such, Baylee glanced around. Everything in the house was enormous, from the front door to the dining table—even the animals in their stalls seemed to be much bigger than they should have been. "Now I really feel like a Mouse-Lass," she murmured.
"What was that, dear?" Bilbo questioned. Like her, he had started to look around only to find just how big everything was.
"I said I really feel like a Mouse-Lass now," she repeated. Pulling a braid over her shoulder, she started to run her fingers along it. Having only been a few days, her hair was still filled with the multiple braids left by Thorin. "Look at the size of these cows! I don't think I've seen one even half as big as any of these!"
A tired laugh left his mouth as they walked past the bovines. "I suppose a creature as big as Beorn requires a lot of meat to keep him well fed."
"Don't be ridiculous," Gandalf scolded. "Beorn does not eat meat. These cows and the horses outside work for him and talk to him. He does not eat them; neither does he hunt or eat wild animals."
The dwarves groaned in dismay at this information.
"If we had had a more casual arrival, you would have seen both the hives upon hives lined up out front and the wonderous bees that were flying about the fields," the wizard continued. As they left the barn portion of the house behind them and entered the living portion, he set his staff against the wall and removed his hat. "He lives mostly on honey and cream, though he does keep other food in his pantry. Take care to not eat a great deal of it! A little goes a long way when it comes to the food made by Beorn's hands."
"None of it better be green," Ori muttered, though he was none-too-quiet about it.
"Where is the larder? I'm starving," Bombur said. "If Gloin and Oin got a fire started, I'm sure I could make a fine mushroom soup—if this Beorn fellow were to have any mushrooms, that is."
At the moment, however, Bombur was the only one really concerned with food. The others were exhausted from such a long run; what did not help was that it was quite hot outside. It wasn't much cooler in the hall, so they took off the majority of their clothes, leaving them in just the bare minimum to be considered decent. They then laid themselves on the ground, too tired to do anything at the moment.
Weary though she was, Baylee decided that it was time for her to do her duty as the group's Mouse-Lass and explore the area a bit. Wandering about Beorn's home, she found it more akin to the halls great kings would have in the stories Bilbo once read her. The main room was long and wide, with what looked like the trunks of trees supporting the rafters. In the very center of the room was a hearth, which Gloin and Oin were now building a fire in. Looking up at the roof, she could see a small hole through which the eventual smoke would escape and along the walls were windows that were too high up to see anything but the sky through. The furniture was far too big for any of them to use comfortably; she had a feeling they'd do all their eating and sleeping on the floor.
Towards the back of the room, there were two doors, neither of which she could open, as she couldn't reach the latch. Just as she was about to turn away and call for some assistance, she felt the handle of her sword brush against her arm. Getting an idea, she unbelted the weapon and, standing on her tippiest of toes, was only just able to push the latch up. The door, thankfully, was balanced well enough that it practically swung open on its own.
Stepping into the room, her eyes widened in wonder. Shelves upon shelves stood before her, reaching all the way up to the ceiling and every single one of them was stuffed full of food. The air in here was much cooler than in the rest of the hall, which made it all the more refreshing to step into.
"Yavanna's sacred girdle, I've found the motherlode," she mumbled, a big grin spreading across her face as she leaned her sword against the wall.
Walking further into the room, she found that the lower shelves were where Beorn kept his root vegetables and his mushrooms. A few shelves up was his store of cheeses—which, from what she could see, there were a few different types. What was even higher up, however, she couldn't see, though she assumed that was where he kept his baked goods.
"Hm. I suppose I have no choice but to do a bit of climbing," she told herself as she looked up at the shelves. "Good thing the space between the shelves isn't taller than me." Glancing over her shoulder, she could see her father and the dwarves still sprawled out on the ground. With a small laugh, she shook her head and began to climb. 'Just wait until they see the bounty in here,' she thought. 'Even if there is no meat, they should be more than happy to see all this food.'
Soon enough, she was sitting on one of the upper middle shelves, her legs tucked underneath her as she ate part of a large honey cake. It was far more delicious than any honey cake she had had before; it was sweeter, but there was also a savoriness to it. She made a mental note to try asking Beorn what all was in the cake—should they come to meet him in his man form, that is.
"Mouse-Lass? Are you in here?"
She blinked and, crawling to the edge of the shelf, she found Thorin looking around the pantry for her. Her brow rose; when she didn't answer straight away, he started looking behind the potatoes and inside of a box holding many, many carrots. Just as he was about to look behind a massive barrel, she called down, "You won't find me there."
He was forced to back up a few paces in order to see her properly; she was nearly ten feet off the ground. "I see you're taking your role of Mouse-Lass very seriously," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. From where she was, Baylee could see that there was a small smile on his lips.
"Well, it is one of my jobs to scavenge for food for us," she smiled.
"Yes, but you're on the wrong shelf. The mouse food is one below you."
"This mouse prefers honey cakes and berry pies to cheese."
"Will you be coming down any time soon?" He chuckled and shook his head; she was actually rather surprised by how jovial he seemed. Maybe the sight of so much food had lifted his spirits? "Or will you be remaining up there for the duration of our stay?" His brows rose and he stepped forward as she tossed down a seed cake to him; it was almost bigger than his entire hand. "Thank you."
"I'm not sure I'd like to come down," she joked. "I can finally see above everyone's heads." She popped the last bit of honey cake into her mouth.
Thorin snorted, his brow rising. "Alright, you've had your fun and your snack. Come down now and we can go tell the others what you've found."
"I suppose I must. I don't want to imagine how bad of a scolding da's going to give me if he finds me this high up, anyway." She carefully brought her legs out from underneath her, letting them slip over the edge. As she readied herself to turn around and climb back down, though, Thorin stopped her.
"It'll be safer if you jumped," he said.
One of her brows rose. "Safer? How is jumping safer than simply climbing down?"
At that, he gave her an unamused expression. "If you climbed down, your foot or hand could slip and you'd be left as a bloody mess on the floor," he bluntly explained. "If you jump, I'll catch you."
She bit her lower lip; Thorin did have a point. In fact, her hands slipping as she climbed down was a very real threat; even after thoroughly wiping her hands on her skirt, there was still a bit of a buttery residue left by the honey cake. Her fingers started stroking her braid again.
"…The-the-the thing is, the last time someone said that to me, I ended up with a broken arm," she admitted.
His expression softened a bit. "I promise I'll catch you," he said, his voice also gentler.
Swallowing hard, she continued to stroke her braid for a moment. Then, with a heavy sigh, she relented. "Alright, I'll—I'll jump." She watched as he set the seed cake down on the first shelf before moving to stand below her.
He held his arms out, ready to catch her. "Alright, Mouse-Lass. Whenever you're ready."
Nodding, she hesitated for a moment. Then, taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and pushed herself away from the shelf. The fall wasn't a very long one—six feet at the most—so when Thorin caught her much sooner than she expected, she let out a startled squeak and opened her eyes.
"I told you I'd keep my promise," Thorin chuckled, his brow rising somewhat. "Unlike whoever it was that left you with a broken arm."
Her cheeks flushed and a sheepish smile appeared on her lips. "Thank you." It felt a bit strange, being held by him—she was used to getting picked up and carried by Bofur and Fili, yes, but not Thorin. It was not an unpleasant feeling, however; in fact, it was very much the opposite. "I do appreciate it—especially the bit where you didn't drop me and my arm remained unbroken."
"You're as light as feather, Mouse-Lass. The chances o' me dropping you were extremely slim." He lightly shook his head, his braids swaying back and forth. "I can only hope you weigh a bit more when we leave this place; I fear strong gust of wind may pick you up and carry you away otherwise."
"If we keep having to run for our lives everywhere, I'm afraid that may become a possibility," she laughed. "Especially when we've no food."
"Then it's an especially good thing that Gandalf led us to this place and its extremely full pantry," he grinned.
"Yes, it truly is," a new voice agreed, taking them by surprise. Thorin turned around, seeing Bilbo standing in the doorway. "Thorin, why are you holding my daughter?" he asked, his brow rising.
"He caught me when I jumped from a shelf," Baylee explained as she was set back on her feet. She smoothed out her dress and petticoats. "The top three shelves, by the way, are where the breads and baked goods are. You're going to love the honey cakes." There was a smile on her lips, though there was a fair bit of guilt in it as she saw Bilbo's eyes widen in horror.
"Ba-Baylee Baggins, what do you think you were doing, climbing that high up!?" he scolded, wagging a stern finger at her. "And with no one around, I bet! What if you had fallen, hmm? You'd get more than a broken arm if you were to land on this stone floor!"
Another sheepish smile came to her lips. "I won't do it again, da'. At least, not without supervision."
At that, he cocked a brow. "You had better not. If I find you have, though, then I'll-I'll—I'll tie you to one of those posts out there so you can't do any more climbing." He shook his head, sighing. "Now let's go tell the others about this pantry. They're already contemplating on who should risk going outside to see about getting some honey…"
The company spent the rest of the day inside the house, enjoying the relative safety of the place. A bit more exploring had shown them that the second door led into a sort of open hallway. One of the hall's branches led out onto a covered porch area, where they could walk down into a wonderful vegetable garden; they were hesitant to do this at first, however. Fearing that Beorn was still around in his bear form, the group sent Bilbo and Baylee outside, as they were the smallest and sneakiest members of the company. When they returned, Bilbo with a large head of cabbage under each arm and Baylee, using her dress as a basket, brought in many large strawberries.
Between the fresh food from the garden and what food was already in Beorn's pantry, the group found themselves not caring about the lack of meat. Having found one of their host's cooking pots, Bombur made up a large batch of mushroom stew (his wife's recipe, he said, which was quite famous throughout Ered Luin) while the others did their exploring about the place.
"We found some bedding!" Fili and Kili called out around midafternoon. They came into the main hall from the hallway; each was dragging a rectangular cushion about twelve feet long and five feet wide.
"There are four more of these waiting for us t' get them," Kili explained as he dropped the end of his on the ground. "We'll have t' share them, obviously, but there should be enough room that we'll each have enough space t' be comfortable."
Gloin quickly did the math in his head. "Which means five of the beds will have three apiece, but one o' them will have to have four."
Bifur spoke, but being that he could only speak Khuzdul, the hobbits didn't understand him. The others, however, laughed at his comment.
"You need not worry about Bombur taking up two spaces," Gandalf told the others, a bit of mirth in his voice, "because I will not be sleeping in here."
Bilbo frowned. "Where do you intend on sleeping, then?" he questioned.
"I will not be sleeping at all," came the wizard's reply. "Someone must keep watch outside for, if Beorn were to decide to return in his man form, they will need to explain our situation to him." He walked over to the fire, where Bombur was stirring the stew as it simmered away. As he was offered the ladle for tasting, he gladly took it and, after blowing on it a few times, took a sip of the broth. "Ah, yes…As delicious as ever, Bombur. Though I daresay it needs a bit more salt."
He smiled and handed the ladle back before continuing his previous explanation. "Though Beorn can be reasoned with, if he were to walk inside and, without any sort of warning, find thirteen dwarves and two hobbits snoring away on his floor, that will greatly lessen our chances of reasoning with him. Especially since, as I mentioned before, he is not overly fond of dwarves."
"And what if he were to return in his bear form?" Thorin questioned, his brow rising. "What would you do then? He could try t' attack you and, given his size, there's a strong chance he'd win."
Gandalf looked almost offended by his inquiry. "Thorin Oakenshield, do you take me for a simple old man?" he retorted. "I am a wizard and I am quite capable of handling myself against a skin-changer. Now, having to handle myself against a skin-changer while also having to keep an eye on thirteen pesky dwarves and their hobbits is an entirely different story."
Thorin fell silent, his cheeks ever a touch red from the embarrassment of being told off by Gandalf. The slightest bit of a pout had also come to his lips.
Seeing his expression, Baylee quietly giggled as she hulled strawberries. When Thorin cocked a brow and glanced at her, she was barely able to retain her laughter as she pretended to not even notice him. She merely continued on with her hulling of berries, pausing only to toss the leafy bits into a separate bowl. When she risked another peek at him, she found that his brow was still raised and he was watching her. Her cheeks turned a bit red and she quickly looked back at her work; she thought she might have been seeing things, but she could have sworn there had been a bit of a playful smile on his lips.
And, for some reason, it made her stomach flutter.
From across the fire, Bilbo watched the nearly-silent exchange between the two and he could see that a small smile had, indeed, come to the king's face. His brows knit themselves together slightly and he forced himself to look away, not wanting to be caught staring by either of them. He wasn't quite sure what to make of what he had seen, but when he added them together with the other strange behaviors he had noticed from the two of late—Thorin combing and braiding Baylee's hair, the two of them sitting away from the group at night to talk, Baylee believing that Halfast won't be interested in her upon their return the Shire—he felt a bit worried. With these thoughts in mind, he got up and went over to Bofur, who was whittling away at a small piece of wood he got from the firewood bin.
"Hm?" Bofur looked up as he felt a tapping on his shoulder; seeing that it was Bilbo, he smiled. "What do you need, lad?"
"Can…can I talk to you?" he asked, sounding both confused and bit awkward. "Out on the porch?" He stole a look over at Baylee again, watching as she lightly smacked Nori's hand away when he tried to steal a berry.
"Is somethin' wrong?" he asked, his brows furrowing slightly.
"N-no, nothing's wrong. I'm just—I'm just having a bit of a-a-a—um—a father moment, I guess you could say." He gave Bofur a smile that he had meant to be reassuring, but it came out looking more uncertain than anything.
Not wholly convinced, Bofur nodded slightly. "Alright then." Holding both his whittling knife and the piece of wood in one hand, he stood up and followed the hobbit across the room. He was in the middle of pulling the door open when, from the other side, a great shove pushed the door the rest of the way open, nearly squashing him between the door and the wall.
Fili grunted as he came in, dragging a third cushion; behind him was Kili, who dragged a fourth. Seeing that he had nearly squished Bofur, Fili gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that, Bofur. I didn't see you there."
"Be a wee bit more careful, lad," Bofur said, his brow rising and a chuckle leaving his throat. "I don't think Beorn wants t' find squashed dwarf plastered on his walls."
Bilbo's nose scrunched up at the rather unpleasant mental image Bofur's words gave him. Shaking his head, he waited for Fili and Kili to pass by before heading out into the hallway. He could hear Bofur following along behind him; the dwarf was quietly humming to himself and, if Bilbo had looked over his shoulder, he would have seen that he was whittling away once more.
When they both stepped out onto the porch, the hobbit breathed in the warm, summer air. It was heavily scented with clover and honeysuckle, scents that made him long for his own garden back home. Being much too short to rest his arms on the railing—it was at least two feet over his head—he instead opted for leaning against one of the balusters.
"So, what's this 'father moment' you wanted t' talk about?" Bofur asked after a moment of silence. Like Bilbo, he was much too short to reach the handrail, leaving him to lean against a baluster. As he spoke, he continued to carve the piece of wood, though he looked up for a few seconds.
"We-well, as you know, Baylee's got herself a lad back in Hobbiton," he started. "A very nice lad with a good family name and a good upbringing. Perfect husband material for her, if I must say so."
"An' yet, she says he isn't her lad—not yet, at least," Bofur countered.
He pouted at him. "Bofur, he kissed her twice the day that we left! I don't know how it is among dwarves, but that usually signals the start of some sort of courtship with us hobbits." He then shook his head and rubbed his face. "Bu-but, that's a bit beside the point! Baylee has herself a lad waiting for her in Hobbiton."
Nodding in understanding, the dwarf remained silent so he could continue.
"And she's always been very fond of this lad. It's quite adorable, really—they both turn as red as tomatoes when they're around one another and get all bashful. But I digress! Despite her having a lad back home, I-I-I-I think she's falling for a member of the company."
Bofur paused in his whittling. A chuckle left his mouth and his brow rose somewhat. "Well, for the most part, we're not bad lads," he joked. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind havin' one o' us for a son-in-law."
A small pout came to Bilbo's lips. "I'm serious, Bofur! I sincerely think Baylee's starting to fall in love with one of you lot! And…and I think he's falling for her, too."
Going back to carving, Bofur chuckled again. "An' why does that trouble you? Just because she may or may not have a lad waiting for her back in the Shire? Or do you honestly not like the idea o' having a dwarf for a possible son-in-law?"
"Now you know full well it's not the fact that he's a dwarf," he retorted, putting his hands on his hips. "It's—it's—it's more or less the fact that, should all go well with the quest, I-I…" He paused for a moment, his expression falling as he let out a heavy sigh. "Should all go well with the quest and this dwarf returns her affections like I'm beginning suspect he does…I don't think she'd want to come back home to the Shire. Even with how in love with Halfast she had been when we left."
Bofur frowned as he looked at him. "One o' the Durins, then," he stated, his voice gentle and lacking its usual humor.
"Yes."
"Fili?"
"No. I don't think I'd be as worried if it were him."
"Then it's Thorin."
"Yes."
The two males stood in silence for some time. There was a slight breeze that made the leaves on the vegetables rustle slightly and, in the distance, they could hear the buzzing of bees. Bilbo closed his eyes and tried to pretend that, just for a few minutes, he was back home in the Shire. It was of little use, however. Too much had taken place in the last few days alone to let him imagine such a comfort.
"I thought I had noticed Thorin actin' a bit different," Bofur said, finally breaking the silence. "But I thought it was because o' his brush with death—things like that can really change a person." Closing his knife, he tucked it away in his trouser pocket while he let the wood fall to the floor with a clatter. He turned so that his back was against the baluster and crossed his arms over his chest.
"I would have thought that, too, except I've noticed some behavior changes before we reached the mountains." He rubbed his face before crossing his arms over his chest and leaning his shoulder against the baluster. "I started noticing it back in Rivendell, but I told myself it was probably how Thorin acted when he was relaxed and without much worry."
His brows furrowed slightly. "What did you notice?"
"It-it-it's going to sound a bit like I'm being a bit paranoid, but…on the day you lot sent me off to find them for dinner, I found them sitting on one of the overlooks. Thorin had clearly braided her hair—it was just a simple, singular braid, nothing fancy—and he was…he was sitting rather close to her."
"If I didn't know Thorin, then I would tell you that, aye, you are being paranoid." He watched as the hobbit frowned. "But I do know Thorin an' I know well enough that he doesn't usually like t' be close to people—at least, in the physical sense. He'll give a hug or braid a family member's hair every once in a while, but I'm sure you've noticed how he tends t' lay his bedroll away from the rest o' the group or how he goes off to brood by himself."
"So…I'm not being paranoid?"
He shrugged. "To be fair? I think you are bein' just a wee bit so. But, it's understandable, given that you're the lass's father." Turning his gaze out over the garden, he could see that the sky was beginning to change from blue to pink as afternoon faded into evening. "If Baylee an' Thorin are falling for one another as you suspect, that's going t' leave the lass with a big choice on her plate once this quest is over…an' you're afraid that she'll choose the option that'll keep her a thousand miles from her home. Any father worth his salt would be scared at that kind o' thought." He looked back over at the hobbit to find his eyes watery.
"She's my little girl," Bilbo said, his voice cracking slightly. "And I know she's all grown up now and can make her own decisions, but—but she's all I have left, Bofur."
Frowning, Bofur walked over to him and set his hand on his shoulder. Before he could say anything, though, Bilbo turned around and clung onto him, burying his face into his shoulder. Bofur wrapped his arms around him, one hand gently stroking the back of his head in a comforting fashion.
"I don't want to lose her." His voice was muffled, though it was obvious he had given up on trying to not cry. "She's my only family."
"I know, lad." He continued to stroke the back of Bilbo's head while his other hand started to gently rub his back. "I know. Your wee lass living in a big ol' mountain with a bunch of dwarves isn't the sort o' idea many hobbit fathers would want t' envision for their daughters, especially when that mountain is half a world away."
"I-I-I don't even want her to move out of B-Bag End. If-If she had picked Halfast, I was going to let them live there with me. The…the thought of living in that big hobbit hole all by myself terrifies me. My-my father built it to be a place full of-of love and happiness. There won't be any of that when she leaves."
He glanced down at him, his brows furrowing again. "Now, Bilbo, don't you go actin' like she's already made up her mind. We don't know for sure if she's fallen for Thorin or vice versa. An' even if they have, there's still a long while before we finish this quest. Do you know how much can happen between now an' then?" He leaned back slightly and gently tilted Bilbo's chin up so he could look at him. "A lot can happen. But one thing's goin' t' remain the same, no matter what happens an' no matter what decision your lass may have t' make."
"Wh-what's that?" he sniffled, his lower lip wobbling slightly. As Bofur's hand came to rest on his cheek, he unconsciously leaned into the touch.
"You're not goin' t' be alone."
Frowning in confusion, his eyes met Bofur's. "What do you—" Realization hit him like a brick and his eyes widened slightly. He felt his stomach beginning to twist about again. "Oh."
A small, reassuring smile came to his lips as he let his thumb gently stroked Bilbo's cheek. "So don't you go worryin' about havin' to live in that hobbit hole all by your lonesome," he told him, his voice quiet. "Because I won't let it happen. Even if your wee lass chooses Halfast over Thorin, I'll still be there for you."
A small, wobbly smile appeared on Bilbo's lips. Without thinking, he rose up onto his toes and pressed his lips against Bofur's. After a few seconds, he pulled back slightly, his cheeks bright red as he realized what he had done. Seeing the somewhat silly grin that had come to the dwarf's face, though, left him feeling quite relieved.
"Thank you," he then murmured, pressing his forehead against his.
"You know what this means though, aye?" Bofur asked, his voice quiet. When some confusion came to Bilbo's face, he chuckled. "It means, should all go well, you'll be stuck with me for a very long time."
"I'm fine with that…even if it means refilling my ale supply every other week."
A bit of a cheeky grin replaced the silly one before Bofur kissed him a second time, bringing the hobbit closer to him. He could feel a wave of relief beginning to wash over him; he had actually been rather on the fence about telling Bilbo how he felt. After all, he hadn't been sure if Bilbo liked males—he hadn't even known he liked males until recently. Feeling Bilbo wrap his arms around his neck, he grinned into the kiss and leaned back against the baluster.
It was this sight that Baylee saw as she came around the corner, intending to summon them for dinner. Instead, she froze in mid-step and her eyes widened in shock. After a moment passed, she slowly backed up around the corner, not wanting to disturb them. Once she was in the relative safety of the hallway, she leaned against the wall, needing a moment to process what she had just seen.
'My da' and Bofur…were kissing,' she thought. Bringing one of her braids over her shoulder, she started to run her fingers along it. 'I've never seen da' kiss anyone before—I've never even thought da' was the sort to fall in love. Yavanna's bounty, I didn't even know he could fall in love!' A smile started to spread across her lips. 'But this is good. This is very good! He deserves someone who makes him happy and who he can talk to. Yavanna only knows he could have used someone like that when I was growing up.'
As she stepped away from the wall and headed for the door, she quietly laughed to herself. 'I knew that they had to have felt something for each other—I just didn't expect either of them to act on those feelings so soon.'
Entering the hall once more, she pushed her braid back over her shoulder. As she drew closer, she could see many of the dwarves held large bowls of the mushroom stew and they were quiet as they ate. She sat down on one of the large cushions, her dress and petticoats fanning out around her as she sank down into the softness.
"Didn't you find Bofur and Bilbo?" Thorin questioned, his brows furrowing.
"Oh, I did," she replied. "They're having one of their deep conversations, so I didn't want to interrupt."
He nodded in understanding, leaving her feeling relieved that he didn't press the matter. She didn't think that it was her place to tell the others about the relationship between her father and Bofur—that was for them to tell. Covering her mouth as she yawned, she used her other hand to reach into her pocket. From it, she pulled a large piece of the honey cake she had snacked on earlier.
"You should be eating stew, not sweets."
Taking a bite of the honey cake, she looked up to find Fili and Kili coming towards her, large bowls of stew in their hands. They took some care as they sat down on either side of her, not wanting to jostle either her or their dinner.
"I'll have some when da' comes in and gets his dinner," she assured them. "Between the two of us, we might be able to finish one of those bowls." Chuckling, she glanced around at the others as they ate. "Where did you find these cushions at, by the way?"
"There was a big closet inside one o' the rooms," Kili told her. "We were hoping t' find some sort of drink, but I suppose not havin' to sleep on hard wood for the night is just as good."
"I would hope. After sleeping on that rocky ground at the Carrock, my back could use a bit of softness." She chuckled and lightly shook her head before eating more of the honey cake.
Fili's nose scrunched up slightly. "Aye, not havin' bedrolls is going t' be a bit o' a pain from here on out. Maybe well get lucky an' this Beorn fellow will have somethin' that we could use."
"I just hope he's not too upset when he finds out that we've all but invaded his home. We're eating his food, using his dishes, getting into his spare bedding…" Despite the small frown she wore, she popped a bit more honey cake into her mouth.
"For that, we just blame Gandalf and Azog," Kili told her. "Azog's the reason we needed to seek shelter and Gandalf is the one who knew where to find that shelter." A cheeky grin came to his lips before quickly disappearing behind his spoon; Baylee thought it resembled more of a ladle than a spoon, though.
"He did say he was more than capable o' handling himself against a skin-changer, after all," Fili added with an even cheekier grin. "So long as he doesn't have us thirteen pesky dwarves an' our two hobbits to watch over."
She quietly laughed, her brow rising. "That is true," she agreed. "Though, something tells me he may have just been saying that in order to placate our fears."
The princes snorted into their bowls. "Don't let him hear you say that," Fili joked. As Baylee broke off part of the honey cake and offered it to him, he gladly accepted.
"Ah, I think he'd be able t' take this Beorn fellow," Kili said, also accepting a bit of honey cake. "You saw how he handled that enormous goblin back in Goblin Town." He then paused and frowned, looking down at the hobbit. "What…exactly happened to you in Goblin Town? I know you weren't with us when we were brought before that big lug."
"I got separated from through group when I kicked a goblin in the face."
Once more, they snorted. "You were able t' kick a goblin in the face?" Fili did his best to not burst out laughing as he spoke.
She pouted. "Yes, I was! He was bent over, trying to look up my dress, so I kicked him in the face. He still had a hold on my dress though, so when he toppled over the edge of the cliff, I went toppling with him." A sigh then left her mouth as she pulled her dress up slightly, looking at her ankle. "I was able to grab onto a rope, but he had grabbed my ankle. I…well, I brained him because there was no way I'd be able to hold us both up on that rope. Not that I wanted to hold us both up, mind you." Her nose scrunched up slightly as Kili reached over and tousled her hair.
"Well, you did good, Mouse-Lass," he grinned. "Your first real battle an', not only did you survive, but you got some good scars out o' it as well!"
A halfhearted smile came to her lips; she was about to tell him that hobbits didn't find such things attractive when she spotted Bilbo and Bofur returning to the group. "They're back," she said with a small, genuine smile. She could see that her father's cheeks were a bit pink and part of her wanted to tease him about it, but she would spare him—for now.
Knowing that Bilbo would want to sit close to his daughter, Kili got up and moved to sit on the other side of Fili. As Bilbo came over and sat down, Bofur went over and grabbed himself a bowl so he could get some stew.
"Have you eaten yet, young lady?" Bilbo asked, looking down as Baylee leaned against him.
"Not any of the stew, no. I figured we'd share a bowl, given how large they are." She offered him the last bit of her honey cake, which he took without question. Her brows furrowed ever so slightly; his eyes were a touch on the puffy side, as if he had been crying.
He glanced around at the others and saw that the bowls were quite large. "Yes, that does sound like a good idea," he said with a small chuckle. A soft sigh left his mouth as he wrapped his arm around her and gently rubbed her shoulder. He then quietly told her, "I…have something I need to tell you in a little while—after dinner, when we can talk in—"
"It's alright, da'. I already know."
His eyes widened in shock. "Wh-wh-what?! How!?"
"The others sent me to fetch you and Bofur for dinner," she explained, her voice quiet so only he could hear. "And…well, I didn't want to disturb you two, so I didn't say anything and came back. I told the others the two of you were just having one of your deep conversations." She quietly giggled, her brow rising as she looked up at him. "Looks like it got a little deeper than normal."
His cheeks going red, he pursed his lips somewhat. "Very funny, young lady," he said, voice dry. Then, sighing heavily, he tiredly rubbed his face. "You…You're not upset, though?"
"Why would I be upset?"
"Well, I've heard plenty of horror stories of single parents starting to court again only for their children to act like complete terrors when their parent's lover is around—all because they didn't like the idea of said parent's attention being shared."
"First of all, I'm not a child anymore," she reminded him, her voice a bit on the dry side now. "Secondly, I'm actually extremely happy for the two of you. I've…I've always kind of wished you'd find someone to start courting, da'. Or, at the very least, someone to fancy. After everything you've done for me and put up with, you deserve that kind of happiness."
He quietly laughed, closing his eyes and resting his head against hers. "I should have known you'd say something like that," he sighed. "But I assure you, there have been folk I've fancied over the years. I just—I just wanted to keep my focus on you, though. I was so young when you came around…I wanted to set a good example for you."
"And now, here we both are…in the middle of who-knows-where with a group of dwarves and a wizard," she softly chuckled. She tilted her head back slightly to look at him. "I think you set a rather fine example."
As he opened his eyes, he saw a cheeky grin on her lips. "You little…" Shaking his head, he chuckled and kissed the top of her head. "At least you're here with me. Yavanna only knows what would have happened to you if I had left you back in Bag End."
"I would be quite bored and extremely worried about you, that's what." She smiled as he gave her a small squeeze and looked up as she saw a figure walking towards them. It was Bofur, who held two bowls of stew.
"Here you go, lad," he said, leaning over slightly so he could hand it to Bilbo. "There's two spoons because I figured your wee lass an' you would probably sharin', due t' the size an' all." He smiled at them both before moving to sit beside Bilbo.
Chuckling, Bilbo lightly shook her head. "Baylee had the same thought," he told him. He resituated himself so that he was sitting cross-legged, being careful to not spill the stew. Then, handing Baylee one of the spoons, he picked the other one up himself.
Seeing the size of the spoon, Baylee quietly giggled; it was the size of a large serving spoon compared to her. She gathered up a bit of the stew and, after blowing on it a few times, tasted the broth. "Oh, that is delicious," she said, staring at it in surprise. Though she, like all hobbits, was a fan of mushrooms, she hadn't ever tasted mushrooms used in such a delicious way.
"It's my sister-in-law's recipe," Bofur told her. "For the most part, anyway. O' course, Bombur had t' use some different mushrooms, since he couldn't find the usual ones an' since he didn't have any chicken stock or wine. But aye, it's good, isn't it?" He looked over at the two hobbits, a fond smile coming to his lips as he saw them practically shoveling it into their mouths. "Eat slower, you two—there's plenty left if you're still hungry."
Baylee glanced up in time to see her father's gaze lock with Bofur's for a few seconds. A small smile came to her lips as she saw their cheeks redden slightly before they went back to eating.
'I never thought I'd see the day my father blushes like a schoolboy,' she thought, quietly laughing to herself. 'Let alone because of a dwarf…But I'm glad he is. He and Bofur are a cute match. I just hope that, by the end of this quest, they still make each other as happy as they do now.'
Glistening black eyes stared at her from all directions as pale, diseased bodies chased after her. Try as she might, though, she couldn't get away from them. Their shrieks and cries filled the air as, no matter what direction she ran in, she was met by snarling goblins.
Her lungs burning, she ran around a corner and crouched down, pressing herself against the wall. She did her best to quiet her breathing—a difficult task, considering how out of breath she was. The goblins, who had been close behind her, ran right past as they came around the corner. She covered her mouth with her hand to make extra sure they wouldn't hear her.
When nearly a minute had passed and no other goblins came, she released her mouth. Slowly, she crept forward to look around the corner. No more black eyes or white bodies could be seen. The cries were distant and were fading with every passing second.
Taking the chance, she darted forward. She ran back up the path, though whether it was the right direction or not, she didn't know. It was impossible to tell down here. But surely, if she kept going up, she'd eventually find some exit to the outside, right?
She was crossing one of the many bridges when, in front of her, four wargs came barreling down the path, each of them bearing an orcish rider. She spun around only to find that there were even more wargs and riders behind her. Both groups stayed on their end of the bridge, trapping her in the middle.
One of the riders came forward: Azog. There was a wicked sneer on his face as he looked down at the tiny hobbit and he spoke to her, but what he said, she didn't know; he was speaking in that strange, ugly language used by the orcs. The closer he and his warg came, the further she backed up. But the more she backed up, the closer she got to the other warg riders.
Then, Azog reached behind him only to bring forth a burlap sack. He threw it towards her, smirking as it hit the ground and its contents came rolling out. Before she could stop herself, Baylee looked down and felt a scream rising in her throat.
With cold, dead eyes, the decapitated heads of Thorin and Bilbo stared up at her.
Baylee bolted upright, panting heavily. Looking around, she found herself surrounded by darkness. Straight ahead of her, however, she could see the dying flames of the fire which told her she wasn't in Goblin Town. The sounds of dwarvish snoring further assured her that all was well—which brought double relief, as she now knew she hadn't screamed.
Her body shaking, she pushed back the blanket and, being as careful as she could, she crawled off the cushion. She wrapped her arms around herself as she made her way across the hall, needing to get a drink of water. The water barrel stood much taller than her, of course, but the dwarves had managed to assemble a sort of stool out of a footstool some books they had found.
Reaching the top of the barrel, she only had to lean over slightly and use her cupped hands in order to get a drink. After she had drank a few handfuls, she climbed back down, but didn't return to bed—not yet, at least. Instead, she sat down against the barrel and pulled her knees to her chest before allowing herself to cry.
'Why do I keep having these nightmares?' she thought, letting out a quaking breath. 'Why can't I have normal ones where I forget to put my clothes on before leaving Bag End or that I used salt instead of sugar in a pie?' She knew the answer, however, which only made more tears spill from her eyes.
She wasn't sure how much time had passed when she heard footsteps coming towards her. Quieting her sniffles, she thought she could remain hidden in the shadows—after all, it was apparently all too easy for her to hide in plain sight. She was positive that, whoever it was, would walk right past her, get himself some water, and return to bed.
But she was wrong.
He sat down beside her, moving slowly so as to not startle her in case she hadn't noticed his presence. Before she could lift her head to try and see who it was, they comfortingly wrapped an arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer to them. Her eyes fell shut as she felt fur brush against the side of her face.
Thorin.
"D-did I wake you?" she asked with a quiet sniffle.
"Aye."
"I'm—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."
"It couldn't be helped. Night terrors strike when they please and rarely take mercy on their victims."
"…Do…do you ever have nightmares?"
"More often than I would like to admit."
"How do you deal with them?"
"The only way I can: By telling myself that they're not real. Even the ones based on memories, I have to tell myself that they took place in the past an' the past is long ago." A quiet sigh left his mouth as he started to gently stroke her shoulder. "It's hard at times…especially when the dreams seem more real than the waking world."
She nodded slowly in understanding, resting her head against his shoulder. "Ever since we had that run in with the trolls, I've had at least two nightmares a week. I—I know it doesn't sound like much, but prior to that, I'd only have one or two a year."
His eyes closing as well, Thorin tilted his head down to rest atop hers. "That doesn't surprise me. Not only did you receive a life-altering injury, but it was also your first taste of battle…not to mention, right after, we were chased by Azog's riders."
"I can only imagine they'll get worse from here on out, since I…since I actually killed things in Goblin Town." A nearly-silent sigh left her mouth; she wouldn't have expected him to come and comfort her like this, especially since she had woken him. After the last few days, she would have thought that he'd be more likely to scold her, but she was glad to find that she was wrong.
"Or, perhaps, they'll start lessening."
Her brow rose. "Why do you say that?"
"You've faced and defeated monsters in the waking world. Who's to say you won't start defeating them in your dreams?"
A soft laugh left her mouth. "There you go, being the optimistic one again."
"Someone has to be optimistic for you," he murmured. Unconsciously, his hand moved from her shoulder to her hair, which he slowly began to finger comb. She had taken it out of the braids before going to bed, leaving her tresses free and somewhat tangled. "While you're still positive in regards to others, I've noticed you've become less so when it comes to yourself."
She was quiet for a few minutes, mulling over his words. While his fingers combed through her hair, she told herself he was just doing it to comfort her—though it did feel quite nice. "It's…it's been getting harder. The more dangers we run into, the more I come to realize that there is a very real and very strong chance that da' or I might not make it back to the Shire." Her eyes started to sting as a fresh wave of tears filled them. "It terrifies me."
"And yet, you continue to journey with us."
"I can't—I can't just abandon you all," she told him. "And not because I'd be hopeless at finding my way home again. Da' needs me here. And Bombur needs me to find him herbs…and…and you need someone to tell you off when you're being rude to people." A small, albeit wobbly, smile came to her lips as she heard him quietly snort.
"That used to be Balin's job," he told her, amusement in his voice. "I daresay he finds it more entertaining to leave it to you, though."
She chuckled, her brow rising once more. "I can only imagine…the great Thorin Oakenshield, being put in his place by a little Mouse-Lass."
"I assure you, it has far more of an effect coming from you than it does from him." He smiled as he heard her giggle; the sound made his chest fill with an unfamiliar warmth. This wasn't the first time it had happened, either: The last half dozen or so times he had been the reason for her giggling, he had felt it.
It was nice, knowing that he could make her laugh even when she wasn't feeling her best.
"N-now, if only it'd work on Fili and K-Kili," she said, laughter making her stutter slightly. "They just lose it la-laughing when I try to scold them."
"I'm afraid that it takes a far more intimidating person to make those two knuckleheads shape up." A quiet chuckle left his mouth as he opened his eyes and looked across the room.
Being a dwarf, his vision was a bit better in the darkness than a hobbit's, so he was able to make out more than just the silhouettes of their sleeping companions. In particular, he could see that Bilbo was curled up in a small ball right beside Bofur, who had his arms wrapped around the hobbit. His brows rose somewhat at the sight and he found a small smile come to his lips. He thought better of mentioning it, however, not knowing if Baylee already knew or how she would react.
"Are you ready to return to bed, Mouse-Lass?" he asked after some minutes.
She nodded slowly, though part of her felt reluctant to move away from him. It felt nice, being held in such a fashion, especially when she was being held by someone so much stronger than her.
For the first time in weeks, she felt safe.
"Yes, I suppose that's a good idea," she sighed. "I don't need da' to wake up and panic because I'm not there."
"Something tells me that, after the last few days, he's sleeping too hard for that." He slipped his arm out from behind her, though he was surprised by just how much willpower it took to do so. Standing, he turned and offered her a hand up.
"Da' can be quite a heavy sleeper, so you're probably right," she softly giggled, taking his hand and standing. She followed him back to the large cushion; as they drew closer, she could see the silhouettes of her father and his beau. Bofur did, indeed, have his arms wrapped around the hobbit and she smiled at the sight, once again feeling both happy and relieved that Bilbo finally had someone to love.
Yet, at the same time, she felt a bit of longing fill her heart and she wished she had someone who would hold her in such a fashion. Shoving the thoughts aside, she climbed onto the cushion and curled up into a small ball. She quietly sighed as she covered herself with the blanket, having to fuss with it a bit in order to get it just right. Beside her, she could feel the cushion shift as Thorin climbed back under the blanket as well.
After making sure the blanket was snugly tucked under her chin, she let her hand fall onto the cushion just a few inches from her face. She closed her eyes, though her mind still seemed to be wide awake. Thoughts about what Thorin had said about her defeating monsters in both the waking and slumbering worlds raced through her mind, as did thoughts about how different things would be once they returned to the Shire with Bofur in tow.
They'd definitely need to increase their supply of ale…
Her eyes flitted opened when she felt something cover her hand. Brows furrowing in confusion, she glanced at it only to find that it was Thorin's hand resting atop hers. She looked up at him; the dying firelight letting her see the tender smile he wore as he watched her. Her cheeks grew hot, but she shyly returned the look, feeling her stomach starting to flutter. Swallowing a bit hard, she laced her small fingers through his.
"Goodnight, Mouse-Lass," he said, his voice barely a whisper. He gave her hand the gentlest of squeezes.
"Goodnight, Oakenshield."