WAIT!
HAVE YOU READ CHAPTERS 19 OR 20? IF NOT, READ THOSE FIRST! I'M UPDATING MULTIPLE CHAPTERS IN A SHORT PERIOD OF TIME.
Ohohoho, you lot are going to be getting quite some excitement coming soon. I'm thrilled to be finally veering a tad more into canon-divergent territory, as that is where I tend to thrive, you see.
And thank all of you who have taken the time to review! It truly means so much to me to see your thoughts and feedback on this fic. Perhaps I will address some of your reviews when we reach 175-200 reviews? A broad reach, I know, but I would be thrilled to see us get there!
Inspired by a prompt I stumbled upon by lateforerebor on tumblr.
Summary: Bilba "Bell" Baggins decides that she's waited quite long enough to take her mother's advice and old stories and go on an adventure of her own. What she didn't expect was to end up in Ered Luin and be adopted by dwarves! AU, Pre-Quest, Undecided Pairings.
-;-
Despite the very distinct possibility that the Vala were meddling in matters related to the line of Durin, Bilba refused to allow it to stop her from making the best of a poor situation.
The first step of which was reintegrating herself into the circle of dwarrow she'd come to befriend back in Ered Luin.
Rather than stay in the rooms that had been generously provided by their hosts, the dwarves had taken to sheltering under one of the covered arches against the residential wing in which they were staying, setting up camp and doubly so sticking to their own. Bilba couldn't say she blamed them- they were in an unfamiliar place, with those they considered at best to be potential allies.
It simply would not do to be acting so out of sorts.
And so the Hobbit lass deposited herself next to Bofur and Bifur and started up a conversation about anything and everything the morning following her strange encounter with Nori, ignoring the distinctly disgruntled expressions that Thorin and Dwalin to an extent adopted with the appearance of the Halfling. (Who was half of nothing, and she would no longer be acting as such to appease the irritable princeling.)
Bofur had always been kind to her in the mountains, willing to swing her into an enthusiastic embrace each time they saw one another. Bilba assumed it had been due to running in some of the same circles Nori found himself in, but truthfully she suspected it was simply in Bofur's nature to be so warm to those who reciprocated. That, and endearing herself to Bifur; the older dwarf gestured at her from the other side of the cheerful miner, lips stretching in amicable greeting despite Bilba unable to understand the language.
Bombur boomed out a welcome, entire face lighting up as the rotund dwarf waved from across the partial circle the group had made for themselves, Balin offering greetings of his own. The scholarly dwarf too had become something of a mentor to the Hobbit herself from the many nights they had spent helping Ori with his apprenticeship, the distinct opposite of his kin.
Fili and Kili were nowhere to be found, as was Ori; a dangerous combination as any if the look on Dori's features was to be any indication. Bilba could put the pieces of the puzzle together on her own and realize that as the three youngest of the company, they were the least likely to behave as adults. Nothing to be done for it, she supposed. They all would be doing some growing as they went along.
Hopefully.
Dori raised a brow behind a mouthful of tea- leave it to the eldest Ri to find a way to brew tea anywhere- but did little more than that as he watched her from afar. Bilba could almost hear the machinations of his mind turning over her sudden appearance amongst them as if nothing had changed since Ered Luin. Oin grunted in her direction, his hearing-aid pressed firmly against the one side of his head as he leaned in toward Gloin. Amid the racket the company was making, she couldn't blame him for needing the instrument to hear his brother.
Nori's absence was to be expected. The thief was likely to be avoiding Thorin and Dwalin as much as possible while he was able to, amongst other things. The only thing she could hope for was her dwarf not getting into too much trouble.
And there she was, already calling him her dwarf again. She could only hope that Dori didn't notice the flush that crept along her cheeks as she realized her blunder.
Clearing her throat, she turned her attention back to Bofur's sunny re-telling of several events that she'd missed since her last excursion back to the Blue Mountains, leaving one thoroughly puzzled prince and an only slightly less so son of Fundin.
-;-
As their luck would have it- or lack thereof, in Thorin's opinion- the company would be staying for at least a handful more nights in Rivendell. By some strange stroke of luck, they had arrived most fortuitously- the moon required to reveal and subsequently read the runes inscribed on Thorin's map would be coming to rise in short order.
It meant that Bilba was left with quite some time on her hands. Time that she rather intended to spend exploring Rivendell to her heart's content.
She happened upon the archery range quite by accident during their third day in the Last Homely House, having gotten turned about at one of the crossroads in the halls and simply deciding to continue her path to see what she would find.
There were several elves present, but none quite caught her eye as the elven lady seated on the sidelines fletching arrows. Bilba had heard of the Lady Arwen; Lord Elrond's daughter, said to be fair and wise (and perhaps a tad too mischievous for her own good, according to some of the amused murmurings to be had). It was hard to mistake the measure of resemblance between them; similar facial structures paired with the dark oak hair was hard to write off to coincidence, after all.
Perhaps she should have known better, for the lovely elf met Bilba's gaze from the entrance and smiled at her, gesturing to the empty seat on the bench beside her as she continued her task.
Timid, Bilba skirted around the pair of elves laughing and taking their stances, loosing arrows with what was sure to be an ease that would not be found in any other race in the known lands.
"Come, sit with me, Mistress Hobbit." The elf maiden invited once Bilba had ventured close enough. "Pay no mind to Elladan and Elrohir. They are in high spirits this day."
"Thank you." Bilba replied graciously, remembering her Hobbit manners as she tucked herself in, smoothing her skirts absently as she watched the swift precision that accompanied the elven pair as they continued their activities as though she weren't even there. "I have never seen such marksmanship before."
"They are quite skilled, to be sure." Her lips quirked. "But I fear they are only doing so for a wager."
"You started this, Arwen!" the elf closest to them protested, laughter in his voice as he reached for another arrow. "It is only fair that you supply us with more arrows!"
"Ignore them." The Lady Arwen said wryly, sighting down an arrow for but a moment before setting it aside with a handful of other completed arrows. "What has brought you wandering so deeply into Rivendell, little one?"
"I'm rather afraid I took a wrong turn somewhere in my exploration." Bilba replied sheepishly. "Though now that I have found my way here I'm tempted to stay. I admit archery has been something I have always admired, though never given opportunity to study."
Perhaps, then, Bilba should have known better. But as it was, Elladan and Elrohir pounced upon her words eagerly, offering to teach her what they were able for as long as the company was within their halls. Of course, it meant finding or crafting a bow that would suit her much smaller stature, but no amount of protesting the gift would deter the elves.
Arwen found the entire thing amusing, offering no help as she began musing on crafting smaller arrows for such a weapon by the time Bilba finally left for the day in search of her dwarves, mind packed to the brim with all of the things that the pair of elven siblings had attempted to teach her in so little time. Despite her hesitations, the hobbit knew that their quest would not be lacking in any measure of danger. Anything she could use at her disposal would be greatly appreciated.
And perhaps, while she was thinking of it, she should inquire to Nori of teaching her some of his skills. If she were to be a burglar, a burglar she would be.
-;-
Nori couldn't say he enjoyed the city of elves much. The strange stillness in the air, no matter how peaceful it seemed, left an itch under his skin he didn't know how to soothe as he avoided anyone for as long as was physically possible. He needed something to keep him occupied- something to distract him from the thoughts that rolled in like thunderclouds upon his mind.
Most of them concerning a particular Hobbit, but he would never admit it aloud.
His conversation with Bilba their first night in Rivendell had left him with a number of thinks to mull over. The Hobbit had made an excellent case in pointing out that indeed, nearly all of their company were treading carefully around Thorin and his ever-present hound of a guard.
Himself included.
Regardless of how well Bilba had come to know he and his brothers in Ered Luin, there would always be things that they would not admit to her. The poverty that still gripped a great number of the dwarrow living in the Blue Mountains, for example. While the House of Ri had been fortunate in setting their roots, he knew a great number of other folk who had not found such fortune. A handful had joined their company, seeking better fate and fortune for their kin.
And then there was Nori.
He still could not think of a reason to join this blasted quest, despite his name and house sigil on the contract next to his brothers. Perhaps Dori wished to reclaim a piece of their homeland for Ori, perhaps Ori wished to go for his duty to his mentor. But what was Nori giving up to travel halfway across Middle Earth for, amongst dwarrow he could say he barely knew and several who would be quite pleased to see him in cuffs, prison or dead.
A petty thief.
Barely worth the effort.
He should have swept his brothers and their Hobbit away, somewhere far away where this foolery wouldn't end in their untimely deaths.
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he moodily stuffed his pipe, fingering the small wooden bead Bilba had trusted him to watch over until she knew what she would carve into it. At the moment, he was simply doing his best to avoid the crown prince, his nephews, and Dwalin.
It never failed to baffle him that he and Balin were of kin. But then, Balin knew little of Nori other than what Nori allowed him to see. Dwalin, on the other hand, had been responsible for his arrest a number of occasions. He was known as The Thief- all capital letters and derision included, and Thief he would remain. A disgrace to their race and to their legacy, he was certain.
Ah well. He had made his decision long ago in choosing his craft. There were none more skilled in their company, perhaps the Blue Mountains, than he.
There lay the true reason he had been out travelling when he had received Dori's letter of the quest.
Speaking of their Hobbit, however…
Nori reclined in the shadows, lighting his pipe and watching from afar as the lass was introduced to a gifted bow from the Lady Arwen. They had met in passing, the dark-haired maid lifting one brow in his direction before inclining her head and gliding on, graceful as a swan on water. Contrary to their fool of a leader, Nori had done dealings with elves in the past. Despite their overall air of nobility, they were easy enough to tolerate, and often opened their doors as much as Hobbits their hearths.
He would not share that information freely, however, lest he place himself in even poorer standing to those of their company than he already found himself.
Some things were best left unsaid.
-;-
"Be on your guard. We are about to step over the edge of the wild." Thorin said, voice carrying back through the line. "Balin, you know these paths. Lead on."
Bilba couldn't help but to turn back to Rivendell. Bathed in the early light of the sun as it crested the horizon, she could almost say that the entirety of the Last Homely House had been naught but a pleasant dream.
A part of her so desperately desired to stay, as Lord Elrond had offered. Amongst other things, it was a link to her mother that she hadn't realized had been so terribly strong. Hearing merry tales from Lord Elrond's children of their involvement in some of Belladonna's ideas in her youth brought back some long-forgotten pieces of the woman who lingered in Bilba's memories from faunt-hood. Especially, she learned, of her mother's fondness of archery. It had been Arwen to speak of it, tone fond as she helped her brothers correct the Hobbit's posture as she learned of the bow, now slung about her shoulders with a new quiver.
If she could even live up to a fraction of the woman she had heard of, Bilba could claim following her footsteps and carrying on the legacy of their wild Tookish roots.
Still, there were a great many other things to think of as they continued their quest. Of note, the conversation she and Lord Elrond had shared following Bilba's ill-timed vision.
It was hard to deny the sight Bilba must have made, trembling like a leaf in the wind as she swallowed, feeling suddenly as though a great weight had descended upon her shoulders.
"Someone is very intent on ensuring your fate is tied to the dwarrow whose company you keep." Lord Elrond spoke, tone grave. "I fear there are some things that simply cannot be explained otherwise."
"But what does it mean?" Bilba pleaded. "I lived my life quite contentedly until-"
She blinked as she realized that all of her visions had begun after meeting her dwarves for the first time.
"Your path has been entwined with your company, Miss Baggins. I am afraid I can offer you no true clarity on the circumstances." The elf sighed, appearing truly aggrieved for her. "If I were to say anything, it would appear that something- or someone- has deigned use you as a voice for some greater plan ahead. Perhaps Aule, or his wife, the Lady Yavanna."
"But I am a simple Hobbit!" Bilba cried, fisting her skirts and fretting them.
"Perhaps. But even amongst the smallest of creatures, there is purpose. Yours very well could be something that you do not yet know." Lord Elrond shrugged one shoulder, graceful as his features turned thoughtful. "Though it is strange that Mithrandir knows naught about it. He was one of the favored…"
He paused at Bilba's expression, shaking his head but once. "It is no matter, now. This only serves to prove that there is nothing I can do to force you to stay. One way or another, you will reach the mountain."
"-Mistress Baggins. I suggest you keep up." Thorin said sharply, breaking the hobbit lass from her deep thoughts. "There is no place for anything soft in the wild."
Bilba resisted the urge to growl something highly inappropriate back to the insufferable prince as she fell in line between Oin and Bifur.
Keep up?
She would march straight up to him and plant her foot in his arse if he didn't stop trying to grind her last nerve down to the ground.
Thorin had been irritable, even moreso, now that Bilba appeared to have simply thrown her regard for him out of her mind. A shame, really. In another lifetime, perhaps they might have become quite amicable to the other, had they met under different circumstances. They weren't terribly different in mannerisms, she noted.
But, alas, it wasn't meant to be. And no great loss on her behalf, either.
Gandalf had been held back on joining the company as they took their leave from Rivendell. (Lord Elrond had already confessed to resigning himself that the quest would happen one way or the other to the hobbit lass, but in public appearance needed to appear otherwise, lest he get involved with Gandalf's meddling.)
Bifur tapped her on the shoulder, passing her pipe up with a knowing smile. Bless that dwarrow for somehow sensing exactly what she needed. Probably for the best that her pipe was in a specific pocket of her rucksack that they had likely all come to know by now by the sheer amount of pipeweed that she smoked. Thankfully, the elves had a store of their own blends, several from the Shire that Arwen had been all too pleased to hand to her, a twinkle in her eye as she noted it was probably best she didn't get into it until they were well away from Rivendell.
Despite only being in Imladris for several days, Bilba had become quite close with Lord Elrond's children, and felt their loss keenly as she had had to say goodbye the night before. They treated her kindly, as friends. Far unlike Thorin and Dwalin and oh, she was going to work herself into a right fit at this rate!
Lighting her pipe, she tightening her grip on her walking staff and followed the company up and out of the valley, silently plotting all the ways she could make Thorin's life difficult.
As it usually did, the thought left her much cheered and with a skip in her step, which made her nearest companions slightly nervous.
-;-
For all of their being on foot, the company certainly made quick work of the leagues it took to take them away from Rivendell. Bilba couldn't help the gratefulness in measure that she did not need to ride a pony any longer- Hobbits were much better suited to the ground, and her larger, bare feet made travel much easier. Never mind that she was familiar with more unstable, rocky terrain due to her time in the Blue Mountains. She was as surefooted as any of the dwarrow were in their boots, and she had a new walking stick to guide her way.
Surely too, there were things she saw that no other Hobbit could say that they had seen. From the low lying-plains to the highest craigs of the mountains, her breath was constantly taken away by the places and the things they happened upon as they travelled.
With her cares thrown to the wind, Bilba and Ori chattered for hours about everything and nothing, more often than not the youngest Ri scribbling something or other down on any scrap parchment outside his largest journal that he would be able to comprise into a larger text on Hobbits. It brought warmth to her heart to see how much he was learning under Balin's tutelage. Soon enough, he would be a proper scribe. She saw the same pride reflected in Balin's eyes every time the young dwarrow came to either of them in seek of some form of knowledge or other. To Bilba, queries of Hobbits and Sindarin; the latter of which earning dirty looks from the less elf-tolerant. To Balin, more the realm of anything Bilba could not immediately answer, or to inquire after more parchment.
(Where Balin was getting it was a mystery, but one Bilba was content to let lie for the sheer amusement of her thoughts and what they could come up with to explain it.)
Dori often hovered whenever Ori was nearby, the eldest Ri seemingly content to continue to ignore Nori's presence. She and Nori had only touched on it briefly in Rivendell- and by that barely prodded it with a very long stick warily- but it was something that had been obvious even when they had turned up on her doorstep in Bag End. Worse, and infinitely more infuriating, none of them were willing to say anything on the matter.
And Bilba was well aware of how stubborn her dwarves could be.
She mentioned as much in passing to Bofur, who thought it wildly amusing to watch her puff out her cheeks in agitation, even going so far as to point it out to Bifur if he happened to be nearby.
Bother and confusticate these dwarves! They were all against her, she was convinced.
If Bilba was not in the mood to spend her company with the brothers Ri, she was often spending more and more time with Oin. She and the healer would go back and forth for hours about herbs and other ingredients they needed for salves and ointments- a term Bilba thought charming and hoped caught on- as well as put their heads together in the evenings to continue making salve for Bilba's stiffness in her leg. While they had made it far enough in their journey her body was becoming accustomed to the constant use, salves continued to aid in keeping her skin soft and prevented the limb from stiffening up during the nights. Something which vastly improved her mood, which everyone found to be a win on their behalf.
And finally, if not with any others, she finally worked up the courage to ask Kili to show her how to use her bow. Of course, Bilba had been shown some of the basics by Elladan and Elrohir, but it was one thing to learn from an elf and another to learn from a dwarf. Someone who was much closer to her own size and knew how to wield the weapon skillfully. Kili seemed to enjoy it as much as she could, Bilba supposed. Knowing she carried so many weapons was hardly a pleasant thought, but one she bore all the same. The world was by far more dangerous out her door, and had learned several lessons along the way to warrant it.
But it didn't stop her from enjoying herself, oh no.
The first mountain they encountered with snow- not a mere dusting of the stuff but a full heap- Bilba got a look in her eye. One that only few of the present company knew spelled trouble.
Ori sensed it first, having been walking alongside her. With a squeak of alarm, he ducked as the first handful of snow went sailing overhead, finding its first victim in Bofur.
That alone should have been the clue that things were very quickly about to deteriorate into chaotic silliness. For Bofur was amongst the first even in Ered Luin to appreciate the finer things in life, though simple. A hot cup of tea, the comfort of a blanket-
Yes, even the first snows of winter.
So it was with great pleasure that the miner wasted no time in returning fire with a war cry that had half the company starting in great fashion. Dwalin even went so far as to draw Grasper and Keeper, only to have Bifur hit him square in the jaw with a frankly alarming sized snowball. Enough so that the large warrior was knocked from his feet, lying in the snow as he attempted to sort out what nonsense was going on.
Bilba giggled madly as she turned on those travelling behind her. Dori in particular got a gleam in his eye that suggested retreat was their best option. Grabbing Ori, the hobbit lass dove behind a snow bank, the scribe at her heels as Balin bemusedly found his way to shelter, raising a brow at the uncontained pleasure on Bilba's features.
Nori appeared on Bilba's other side, already shaking snow out of his hair as he stared accusingly at the hobbit. It would take forever for them to dry out, never mind that once Dori, Gloin and Bifur got going there was no stopping the inevitable snow battle that would ensue.
Fili and Kili were next to join them, Ori and Balin fortifying the back of their snowbank as Bilba and Nori joined forces to target those who dared attempt to try and take their high ground. Fili appeared to have been a victim of one of Bombur's armfuls of snow, Kili's cheeks flushed as he cackled at his sibling's misfortune. For good measure, Bilba got him point-blank in the face with a handful of snow, only for Nori to come to her aid as the youngest prince attempted to retaliate, wrestling around in the snow with laughter hewn throughout.
Unintentionally, it was a wondrous idea.
That is, if Thorin were involved.
To Bilba's knowledge, as she poked her head out from behind their wall, the insufferable prince and his bodyguard had retreated a safe distance and had taken shelter behind their own snowbank. Likely assuming that it would be enough to deter the rest of their company from involving them.
Oh, how wrong they were.
It only took a carefully worded line about it being a shame that everyone couldn't enjoy the experience of a snow battle, and Kili was well on his way, slinking around one side of their leader's snowbank with Fili and Balin around the other, both parties intent on getting their kin to join in the fun. After all, Oin and Gloin had come up with a rather amusing method of stuffing Oin's hearing aid with snow and then somehow using it to fashion snow balls. Those two were waging war on anyone who came into their path with vindictive pleasure, while it seemed that Bombur, Bifur and Bofur had banded together as a set of wildcards themselves. Dori stood with Bifur, the older dwarrow roaring out challenges in Khuzdul with broad grins on their faces.
As if it was meant to be, matching bellows of surprise echoed from the other pair of dwarrow who had tried to avoid the mischief, Balin roaring with laughter as Dwalin burst out from behind the snowbank whilst clawing at the back of his neck. From the looks of things, Balin had managed to get a handful of snow down the back of his shirts. This, of course, meant that retribution was to be paid- if they had to go about goading him into it, then so be it.
Thorin-
Well, Thorin never stood a chance against his nephews.
While one appeared to have been the distraction, Thorin had too much snow on his shoulders for Bilba to guess anything but the obvious had happened there.
Try and bellow and roar as he might, there was no stopping the company now. Bilba had well and truly started something that would only wane once the energy had worn all of them out and they deigned continue on their path just a ways higher to the point that they'd suggested for break to warm themselves before continuing on.
(She wasn't so daft as to start something in the middle of the day, no. Not with those who didn't see any point in good fun, anyway.)
By the time they'd made the fire and settled about it, Bilba was still in fits of giggles, unable to help herself at the sorry states they'd all ended up in. Poor Nori, oh- he looked as though he'd been doused in water as he shook out his mane of hair.
Of course, she averted her eyes as they all replaced the tangled braids and knots and the like, knowing how private it was to them in consideration of her presence. Perhaps her only regret was that she was unable to ask Nori to comb out her hair and re-braid it. Instead, she combed out the thick locks the best she could before twisting it neatly into a bun at her nape, tying it with a leather band to ensure it would not come loose. She would deal more thoroughly with it once they had made camp for the night; many hours off, yet. When the cover of darkness might afford her some more privacy to not announce to everyone who she had been adopted by.
No, that time would come.
Just not today.