WAIT!
HAVE YOU READ CHAPTER 30? OR 19-29? IF NOT, READ THOSE FIRST! I'VE BEEN UPDATING VERY QUICKLY IN A SHORT PERIOD OF TIME.
This one took me a while for several reasons, and I was absolutely overthinking everything about it which was probably the biggest one. So here it is! I've given up on re-reading and writing it over and over again.
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, Nori/Bilba.
-;-
It wasn't until much later in the evening that Bilba managed to extract her from the company of her dwarrow, retreating to Beorn's window-seat overlooking the gardens and relaxing at the sudden lack of boisterous dwarves.
She loved them all, she really did; but the hobbit was finding she quite did require some down time for her own sake of wellbeing. It would perhaps be one of the growing number of things she would miss about Beorn's home once they left; the quiet tranquility and space for her own thoughts appealed to her in more ways than one.
Never mind that there had been a distinctive lack of visions for the time they'd been in Beorn's home. It lifted a great weight off of Bilba's shoulders. Aside from a dream she suspected wasn't entirely a dream, the hobbit had slept soundly each night.
Still, it was hard to shake the impending sense of something brewing on the horizon, Lord Elrond's words echoing in the back of her mind.
"-something- or someone- has deigned use you as a voice for some greater plan ahead."
She sighed, surveying the room as she leaned back into a large, comfortable cushion. Beorn was still seated in front of the fire, a mug of mead clasped in his hands as the skin changer stared into the low flickering flame. A handful of dogs and sheep surrounded him, most in varying stages of drowsiness.
The company was bedding down for the evening- the opening she'd found as an excuse to slip away- the group fracturing off to do their own nightly rituals.
Two of the three Urs were whittling away at what appeared to be pipes, Bombur already dozing as Bifur showed him the progress he'd made. Dwalin and Thorin were murmuring about something or other as they pondered over a map Beorn had given them, Fili combing Kili's hair nearby. Balin and Ori were working on Ori's studies for the evening next to a too-large lantern, and Oin and Gloin were already down and out from the looks of things.
Nori was probably still prowling the garden in his own version of keeping watch- something the hobbit was certain the skin changer would be doing himself once the last of his mead was consumed. And Dori-
Dori was apparently coming to join her. The silver haired dwarf heaved himself up to the seat without any visible effort on his part, primly arranging himself next to Bilba as if he hadn't just made it look so simple.
Admittedly, she hadn't had very much contact with Dori since they'd left Ered Luin; Bilba had been well set into concealing the nature of their relationship by the time they'd left Bag End, and with the addition of Thorin's hovering and grouching, they'd managed to drift apart.
Bilba beamed at him warmly, leaning into him and immediately taking the opportunity to initiate a full-bodied hug. If there was one thing the eldest Ri was skilled at, it was absolutely a hug; amongst other things, of course. But at the moment, it was a hug Bilba wanted, and a hug she would get.
"Dori." She greeted, practically melting into his chest as he pulled her in close, making a sound that sounded suspiciously like a watery sniff. "I've missed being able to do this."
"I've missed it as well." He admitted.
They remained that way for several more seconds, Bilba enjoying the warmth of familiar fabrics against her skin before reluctantly extracting herself. It was pleasant to have Dori's maternal presence around- it was even better to have it directed at her for once.
"To what to I owe your company?" she inquired, lip quirking as she glanced over to the youngest Ri again. "It's been a long day- shouldn't you make sure Ori gets some rest? You and I both know he and Balin can go all night if we let them."
"I'll be dealing with him once I've finished up here." He shook his head. "I came to check in on you- how do you feel after all of this?"
"Honestly?" Bilba sighed, shrugging. "Relieved. Have you and Thorin finally put your bad blood behind you?"
"As much as I'm able to claim, given our positions." He muttered. "He offered us a great insult back in those accursed mountains."
"I've gathered as much." Bilba nodded. She'd managed to gather some of what happened from the youngest trio of the company earlier in the afternoon; what information she was missing also happened to be from the source itself. "What happened, Dori?"
"Things that should not have been spoken in the heat of the moment." He admitted tiredly. "Thorin and I both crossed lines in the sand, creating even more in the process."
Bilba could believe that. Actually, she was surprised she hadn't figured even that out by now. But considering everything that had happened between point A and point B, the hobbit could excuse her lack of foresight- pun unintended.
It was the reason she lifted a brow and gave him a knowing look. He scowled.
"We thought you had just fallen to your death." He pointed out, fingers tightening in the fabric of his tunic. "Don't you start lecturing me, Bilba. I can admit that I have done wrong. But the mistakes I've made in recent memory were not the reason I came over here."
"I know." She smiled. "I can't help but think of you all as misbehaving faunts at times, though. What was the reason you came over for?"
"I came to demonstrate how to braid your hair now that you've officially been accepted into the House of Ri." He informed her. "But I could most certainly leave if you're going to try and give me grief about certain matters."
She stuck her tongue out before the words sunk in.
"Wait, I thought the braids I already had were acceptable?" the hobbit queried, pulling out the aforementioned plaits as demonstration.
"Yes, they were. However, you'll need to be taught to plait them yourself." Dori agreed. "But not tonight. Turn your head around a bit now, I'll need to get at the hair on the left side. Since you're an unmarried daughter of the House, your family braids will sit on the left side of the skull. As there are three of us, there will be three braided in rows against the skin."
He combed through her curls with deft fingers. With the shorter length, combined with Nori's previous brushing, Bilba's hair was much easier to detangle the few knots that had formed since that morning. As he spoke, Dori traced the placements of the braids with his finger.
"I know you're already familiar with beads, seeing as you already have a set, but I'll elaborate further." Dori hummed, voice soothing. "Each member of the House, much as with our beads, have our own braids. It's a signature of its own right amongst dwarrow. Until you've found your own style, you'll need to wear the braids of your House."
His hands dropped to his own braids, intricately woven together, singling out a larger plait for the hobbit to see. "As Head of our House, I've chosen to honor our mother by using one of her braids as the base of my style and blending it with my own and my brothers."
True to form, now that she was looking for it, she could see some of the same elements Nori and Ori incorporated into their own hair; granted, Ori's lack of beard and hair meant fewer braids, but those he did have strongly resembled Dori's. It probably had something to do with Dori being his main caretaker after their mother had passed.
"If you and Nori are so estranged, why keep parts of his braids with yours?" Bilba asked.
Dori's lips pressed into a thin line for a long moment, his hands returning to combing through her curls with a thoughtfulness that spoke to how much a mental argument he warred with himself. It felt nice to have his hands in her hair- his fingers were dextrous, almost as pleasant as Nori's in their thoroughness if less calloused.
She glanced back over to the other side of the room- if it could even be called that. By now, the majority of the dwarrow were settled down for the night. Thorin and Dwalin were still up and likely would be for a while yet; the pair were deep in conversation as they grunted and muttered about the handful of papers now strewn about in front of them.
Ori was still scribbling furiously in his journal; likely completing whatever thoughts he'd had for the day. Bilba had little doubt he would still be doing it once Dori made his way that direction. Balin was reading something of his own, jotting notes in a much more leisurely pace.
Beorn had taken his leave somewhere between Dori's arrival and their current topic of conversation, a large quilt laid over the back of the animals now slumbering in front of the warm hearth. If the hobbit had to take a guess, she would say the skin changer had gone to complete his own rounds.
"As dwarrow, we take great pride in our crafts." Dori finally said, voice quiet. "We find our purposes while we are young; a gift from our Maker to aid in finding our calling, I suppose. I was once a tailor; our mother was a seamstress, and I followed in her footsteps. Though it wasn't just tailoring. I found I quite enjoyed the task of weaving fabrics for our mother's projects- she was proud of me, as her eldest."
His fingers twisted in her hair, slowly separating from one into five narrow strands.
"Nori was still so young- so terribly young- when Smaug came."
Dori's voice wavered, his hands hesitating for a moment. "Somehow, he was caught by a heat-flame in the chaos; he was lucky to live, let alone come out the other side with the damage he did. Our mother and I guarded him for weeks of wandering, what few healers we had amongst our number caring for his wounds."
Bilba knew the scars the eldest Ri mentioned- she'd caught glimpses of them in the past. She hadn't known what had caused them, however.
"Being as young as he was, it was difficult for him to find a foothold in the new reality we found ourselves in. I had been old enough to find my craft in Erebor's halls. Nori… was not so lucky. Our mother had always urged us to follow our instincts before. But those days had been brighter. As we became wanderers, so, I suspect, did Nori. He chose his craft, if it could be called that; turning to thievery and spywork to bring coin to the table and feed us. Our mother knew it from the beginning."
"And you?" Bilba asked gently.
"I suspected. But I chose to ignore it in favor of our mother and Ori." He replied. "She had begun to ail during our travels, but still found fancy in a wandering dwarrow. Once Ori was born, she lived only a few years longer before going to our Maker's Halls. Without her, it became the only way to feed ourselves."
It painted a bleak picture in Bilba's mind as Dori's fingers methodically tugged her hair into position, flush against her scalp.
"It got worse when it came time for Ori's apprenticeship. We needed the coin- Ori's craft found him younger than either of us could have expected- but it was then that I realized what means Nori had abused to get it for us. I refused it, but he went behind my back to pay off the fees to Balin directly. There was little I could do about it then, even had I wanted to."
The newly carved bead found its home at the end of the thin braid, the ivy and goose motif standing out against the worn wood of the small thing. Dori looked at it fondly, adjusting it to lie against her neck before clearing his throat.
"Do you have your other beads?"
Bilba nodded, obediently fishing them out of the small pocket she'd sewn specifically for them. Taking a moment to check no damage had come to them from the journey before handing them over. He snorted as he examined the small carvings, lips quirking when he saw the book on Nori's.
"Nori's braid is a little trickier to plait, but once you've gotten it, it's not too difficult." The older dwarf hummed, clicking his tongue as the hobbit turned her head. "It's terribly complicated for how easy it looks once it's done."
They fell into a companionable silence for a minute, Dori's fingers gently pulling a couple of loose strands out of the haphazard position they'd curled in before he continued with his tale.
"I was furious to discover Nori had gone behind my back to pay Ori's fees. As Head of the House, he should have at the very least notified me of his intent, instead of skulking about and showing a lack of regard for the traditions our mother had raised us with. It planted the seed that grew more vicious with each season until Ori finally walked into the middle of one of our fights." He sighed, the sound soft. "Nori threw what coin he had left in his pocket on the table and left. Until you arrived, it was the last we had seen of him for several seasons. Ori was the sole reason he bothered to come back at all."
Only to return and discover a stranger living in the place he had once called his own. It was no wonder he and Bilba had gotten off on the wrong foot at the beginning of their friendship.
She made a note in the back of her mind to apologize again for that incident as Dori finished the second plait. It ran just below the first, denoting Dori's position as head of House and eldest son, while Nori's was evidenced by the middle. Ori's plait was the simplest, considering the youngest Ri was still developing his beard and braids, comprised of only three strands.
"As for the braid Thorin gave you, that is a more specific style." He explained after ensuring the trio of braids were to his liking. "As it comes from the royal line, the braid must remain clasped with the bead he gave you. As long as it remains visible and hangs forward over your shoulder, it does not matter where the placement falls."
He gave her a quick run down of it, mirroring his words with gestures to his own hair so that she could see what he meant. It was just enough information to make Bilba's head spin, but it would come with time, she suspected.
They fell silent after that, Bilba mulling over what Dori had said in regard to his and Nori's relationship. She traced Dori's handiwork in her hair, tilting her head back and forth to get used to the lack of hair brushing against her ear.
"I know how deep furrows can last." She started slowly, gaze focused on a flower that dropped into the open window frame. "But as much as I hate to admit it, anything can happen on this quest still. Already, we know there are orcs hunting us. Even something as simple as a mountain can mean then end for us. It almost meant mine."
It wasn't something that she wanted to admit, but the fact still remained that she had almost died in the Misty Mountains, and there was a greater chance still that there were worse things to come.
"If you were to lose either of them tomorrow, would you not rather have some measure of peace and understanding between you than a number of years of pain and hurt?" the hobbit finally asked, taking the chance and steering the conversation toward troubled waters.
"There's been too much anger and hurt between us for that, Bilba."
"There might have been too much anger and hurt drawn in the lines between you and Thorin, and yet you've somehow managed to come to an agreement that benefit all parties." She pointed out evenly. "This quest has yet to finish itself, Dori. There's still half a world to travel before we even make it to Erebor, let alone challenge a drake for the Arkenstone. Any one of us could yet perish; yet here you two are, acting like petty fauntlings."
"It's not like that."
"Then what is it like, Dori?" she challenged. "Would any of you have gone through all of this if we didn't agree on something? I've seen some of the things that keep you apart. Allow yourself to trust in there being time to change, if nothing else."
Much as Thorin had, Bilba could see the moment Dori realized she'd cornered him. Hobbits were talented in the way of tongues- really, more of the company should have figured that much out by now if little else.
"I can see why Thorin might have changed his mind." He admitted grudgingly.
"Call it a woman's intuition." Bilba shrugged, resisting the urge to smile. "If nothing else, just try to come to an understanding between the two of you. I think it could benefit both of you in the long run."
He hummed something that might have been an agreement, studying her features closely. Bilba knew the look from the days spent in the kitchens of the Grey Goose; it was an expression of deep thought while he weighed out his options.
"You're too clever for your own good." He muttered finally, shaking his head. "Our mother would have loved you."
He clasped her cheeks in his hands, gently bringing her close enough to bump their foreheads together in a very dwarven sign of familiarity. She closed her eyes, revelling in the warmth of the gesture.
"I think I would have loved her too, if she was anything like her sons."
That time he did sniff wetly, nodding as he sighed and pulled away. "Try to get some rest tonight. I can already tell you're going to be sore tomorrow."
"I'm sore now." She snorted, watching him hop down from their perch like it was nothing, brushing off whatever dust he might have picked up. "Good night, Dori."
"Good night, Bilba." He smiled back up at her before going to head off Ori's owl-like inclinations to be nocturnal. She watched him go fondly, feeling warm.
Turning back to the window, Bilba wasn't too terribly surprised to find Nori already slipping in, his boots making only the softest sound against the sanded wood.
"I see you've returned to your bad habits." She drawled, moving her feet so that he could step down. "How much of that did you hear?"
"Most of it."
"Mm." She rested her chin on her knees, wrapping her arms around her calves and raising a brow. "Should I bother asking what you were up to out there? I hope you've left Beorn be, at least."
"I'm a thief, not stupid." The ginger haired dwarf shook his head with a snort. He arranged himself against the other large cushion, deceptively comfortable as his sharp eyes surveyed the room. It was an instinctive motion, she knew. He'd done it every time they'd stopped for the evening to set up camp; thus far in Beorn's home, he'd done it every time he'd entered the building.
It was another note to add to a growing list of things she still had few answers to about her dwarf.
"You look good with our braids."
"I think Dori forgot to show me how to braid them." Bilba said, fidgeting with the beads hanging over her shoulder. "It feels nice to be able to show them off again, though."
Nori made a sound in the back of his throat, studying the trio of braids that represented their House.
"He never gets mine right." He muttered, reaching out for the braid. Bilba automatically shifted to allow his fingers to pull the clasp from her hair, amused as he moved closer. "Likes to think he does, though."
His tone was sour, but none of it translated into his movements as he swiftly wove in his plait, slipping the wooden bead around the tail of it with practice.
Still, he made no move to leave or retreat afterward, legs pressing against Bilba's as she uncurled herself, hand slipping into his tunic and retrieving her comb. She silently held out her hand, resisting the twitch in her lip as Nori asked for attention in his own special way.
"You're worse than the old tomcat that used to hang around my garden." She mused, still holding back her smile as he turned to allow her access to his mane of hair. "He was cranky too, until he wanted something."
Contrary to what she expected, Nori exhaled out a soft laugh, rolling his shoulders as he pulled a whetstone and one of his knives from somewhere on his person, getting to work on sharpening it.
There was a sharp crackle from the fire as a log snapped. Dori and Ori appeared to have come to a mutual understanding; the pair were bedding down for the night, even if Ori looked a tad mutinous. The elder Ri said something that Bilba couldn't hear, fondness in his features even as he brushed out his beard.
"I don't suppose I could convince you to make an effort to reconcile with Dori, could I." she murmured conversationally, putting the comb down in her lap so she could begin pulling braids free from their places. "Seeing as you've heard most of our conversation anyways."
He didn't immediately answer, nor did Bilba terribly expect him to. Where Dori could be outspoken and set in his ways, Nori was all of that and more, given his particular path in life.
She began humming a simple Hobbit melody as she gently began removing beads and clasps, working the comb through the ends of his hair until it began to gleam in the soft light. The further up the length she worked, the more relaxed Nori's shoulders became, until he was nearly drooping with contentment.
"Dori was right about one thing." He finally said, the scrape of the whetstone against metal a welcome distraction. "I was only just out of my dwarfling years when Smaug came."
"Is it all he was right about?" she asked gently, not pushing, nor pausing in her ministrations.
"He's almost as set in his ways as I am." Nori scoffed. "He likes to see things through rose colored glass rather than acknowledge that not all of us can be as respectable as he deems fit."
"Well, there is no denying he would be quite desirable were we still in the Shire." Bilba acknowledged with a knowing smile. "But even so, he is much too dwarven to be a Hobbit. Just, I suspect, as I am too wild to be a Baggins and you are too stubborn to admit you care what your brother thinks."
He stiffened at her words, but Bilba sensed that there would be no coaxing any other admissions from him for the night.
She resumed her humming, comb rhythmically moving through thick ginger hair. The trio of points that defined the thief's look took some additional work, but it was worth it to see Nori so at ease. There may have even been a noise reminiscent of a purr that left him as the hobbit combed through with her fingers, scratching at his scalp just to see what would happen.
That done, she plaited in a couple Hobbit style braids, layering them into the other to create something that suited Nori's personality; at least to Bilba's eye. It did something to her chest, seeing something of hers in his hair.
"Clever, sweetling." He mumbled, eyes lidded as Bilba managed to coax him into leaning his head into her lap once she was finished.
"I'll keep watch." She promised, brushing a couple of loose hairs out of his eyes and pressing a quick peck to his forehead. "Get some rest, silly dwarf."
He grunted something that wasn't quite a word, but it wasn't too long after he closed his eyes that his breathing evened out.
Bilba hummed an old lullaby that came to mind, running her fingers through the hair she hadn't plaited and looking down at the dwarrow's sleeping features. Like this, it was like he was an entirely different person; the furrow in his brow was gone, years replaced by peaceful neutrality.
She loved him.
It wasn't much- there were no grand gestures, no sudden realizations. It swelled in her chest and left her feeling warmed; much as though someone had settled a blanket over her shoulders. It simply was.
Of course, she wouldn't be the one to announce it to the world. No, she would allow herself to mull it over and decide if and what she might do about it.
A Hobbit could have her secrets- much as her dwarrow- after all.