WAIT!
HAVE YOU READ CHAPTER 32? OR 19-31? IF NOT, READ THOSE FIRST! I'VE BEEN UPDATING VERY QUICKLY IN THE LAST COUPLE OF MONTHS.
HAPPY HALLOWEEN, everyone! Have a treat- you all deserve it for the patient waiting you've done.
Thank you all so much for your patience in waiting for this chapter. I… was really not expecting how busy I was going to be working at my new job. But! I am here now, and hopefully I will be able to power out some chapters 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.
-;-
Several years ago.
In his less than humble opinion, it was far too cold for anyone to be out at the indecent hour Nori found himself in during the middle of the night, but such was the way of things, he supposed.
He kept his head down, all senses on high alert as he approached the pass to the settlement- at this time of the night, there were only a couple of guards on duty; hardly enough to concern himself with. He knew the mountains like the braids in his beard with how long he'd been sneaking around Ered Luin's craggy landscape. He wasn't about to let the likes of the guardsmen catch him now.
Still, he slipped into the shadows as only a thief could, a smile hidden beneath the edge of his hood as he passed them by. One of them he recognized by the familiar mohawk and tattoos; not Dwalin, but one of his admiring lackeys.
Rock settled beneath his boots, the faint crunching of it a soothing balm to some part of his mind that had been uneasy for the entirety of the time he'd been travelling on the far flatter terrains to the east. A dwarf to his core, no matter how far he wandered, it seemed.
Despite being away from the settlement for so long, the stone almost warmed below him, the call of their Maker thrumming through him like a drum. Every dwarf felt some measure of stone-sense; the connection that bound them to the earth and drew them into the grip of mountains. It was said that it reminded some deeper part of their Maker's halls; the forges he carved and hammered each of them into before bringing them forth in Arda.
Some found their Craft in it, honing their talents to become the most renowned miners, jewelers and smiths. The line of Ri had yet to have a distinct member of their lineage find a Craft that revolved around it- more often than not they were artisans and weavers, able to spin the finest of fabrics and branch out into any path they chose.
Nori…
Well, he was one who broke all of those standards.
Absently, he rubbed at the sore spot beneath his ribs. Luckily enough for him, the blade attached to the rather angry attacker on the other end had left minimal scarring- the only downside was the cold that seeped into the fresh scar, throbbing to his core.
The path home was a well worn one. 'Home' being the loosest sense of the word as he noted the single light in the window. It was Dori's way of soothing Ori's fretting over the third member of their family; their youngest brother was worried over Nori's health more often than not whenever he deigned return home. Not something that he terribly deserved, but he couldn't say that he minded the attention in the particular instances he was on the receiving end.
Dori was his own beast, but that wasn't what he was focusing on at the moment.
Being an outcast in one's own race was no small feat when taking into considering how most other races viewed dwarrow- finding his Craft as a thief had been a long hard road that he wouldn't change for the world. Granted, it was one he didn't often stray from, but it was something that sparked joy in what might have been the last vestiges of his heart.
He'd seen one too many things to say he had one, to be blunt.
Ignoring the memories of bellowed words and hissed threats that echoed in his mind to remind him of the last time he'd been in this place, Nori crept along the side of the house, instinct and many long years of ingrained habits leading him to the window that belonged to his room.
Well, hopefully. It had been his before the last time he'd inhabited it- whether or not Dori had decided to trawl through it and erase every bit of him from their space was yet a mystery. Even if his eldest brother had, it was unlikely he'd have found any of his caches strewn throughout the room; that would mean actually having to look at the things he'd be ridding himself of. And if there was one thing Nori could say with utmost certainty, it was that Dori would rather his belongings rot than to actually sully himself with touching his things.
The thought brought some measure of an amused smirk to his lip as he jostled the lock with practiced ease, leaping up and slipping into the room. He allowed himself a moment to relax-
And that was right about the point that it all went downhill from there.
A shriek accompanied a heavy blow to the side of his head; dazed, reeling, he wobbled backward, blinking the stars out of his eyes as he tried to get a look at his attacker. Female, wielding what looked like a broom to his baffled stare as Nori tried to hold her off.
Mahal's beard, was he even in the right house?
"Dori!" the unknown figure shrieked, "Dori, help!"
That answered that question, certainly.
He squawked, fending off the majority of the hits as he tried to shuffle backward. It wasn't saying much, considering his opponent had quite the strike force behind the blows. He did not, under any circumstances, want to be present when Dori inevitably arrived. Otherwise, he was going to be in a great deal more pain than he was currently.
As if the mere thought summoned him, the splintering of wood heralded Dori's arrival as his eldest brother quite literally rammed it off the hinges, a roar of challenge leaving his lips. Nori froze for all of one half of a second before diving for the window as though his life depended on it.
And oh, it did.
-;-
Then came the more official introduction to the Hobbit.
Bilba Baggins was everything Nori wouldn't and didn't expect from a Hobbit, let alone one who had somehow charmed herself into the Line of Ri's good graces. From the number of times he'd passed through the Shire, he had never quite found a more decidedly judgemental race- never mind their tiny statures. Coupled with the fact he'd never personally seen one outside of the Shire- they seemed to rather enjoy their sheltered, comfortable lives- he was more than a little taken aback by the small spitfire.
Still, he played his cards close to his chest as he introduced himself to the lass, pretending for just a time to be the charming rogue he preferred others to see. There was a dark and possessive part of him that resented the fact Dori had, in fact, done something about the empty space that was his room.
Except it was more than just a room to him.
It had been something Nori had been able to fully call his own; a piece of home he had carved out for himself after the bitter months and years that had doggedly pursued their flight from Erebor until they had come to rest in Ered Luin. An interesting contrast, considering he had never truly felt as though Ered Luin was home; the place their little family had settled had slowly crumbled into nothing more than broken pieces of memories that could have been. In a way, it was easier to remember the happy days with their mother than the darker ones that followed.
Perhaps it was the similarities Bilba shared with their Amad that caused Nori's thoughts to drift to her constantly. There was the same brutal honesty she wielded without fear- the burning, fiery passion that lit her feet and drove the little thing forward, even with the shadows that haunted her. In part, it was shamelessly part of the reason she and Nori continued to butt heads so terribly often during the early days of adjusting to one another's presence.
Well, that and Nori's years of experience being naturally wary- and rightfully so- about unusual circumstances and ulterior motives toward himself or his brothers.
A Hobbit lass living with a trio of dwarrow in Ered Luin definitely fell under both of those categories and made no lick of sense to boot.
In part, he made do by making notes of Bilba's movements throughout the days, occasionally tailing her as she went about her daily business. Not always; there were the days that she'd been recruited for duty at the Goose, and Nori had a few eyes and ears willing to keep their attention on the Hobbit when he wasn't able to. No need to make himself look any more suspicious than usual if he didn't have to.
The sons of Ur were the first to befriend Bilba, Bifur being chief amongst them. Now that was something that took Nori off guard; many pitied the dwarf for his injury, feared him for his proclivity to violent fits. But Bilba did none of those things, embracing his oddities as though he were just the same as any of the rest of them. It made the bonds that the Hobbit carried with his cousins that much stronger- Bofur seemed to take on something of a guardian position, while Bombur plied her with gifts of food.
(Nori knew this because of the sheer volume of food that seemed to be present all the time for the initial process of their relationship.)
In either case, Bilba's relationship with Bofur and his brother and cousin must have reminded her of something back in the Shire; it ignited a different kind of warmth in her and it showed in the way that she treated not only the sons of Ri but the rest of the dwarrow she encountered in Ered Luin.
(Never mind the rather infamous incident with the Lady Dis of the Line of Durin- that would be something Nori would do his best to put out of his mind until his dying day.)
And really, it was the reason Nori had decided to reach out to the Hobbit in his own way, offering something of a fresh start for them as they shared a quiet moment on the back stoop of the Goose. Certainly, he would always be naturally suspicious; he'd been called a fox on more than one occasion, but it hardly mattered in the moment.
-;-
Now
Compared to the small, fiery lass Nori had come to know deeply over the months and years, it was completely different to the quiet, subdued one before him now.
It started before the company had even set foot in the forest known as Mirkwood. From what Nori remembered, it had once been known as Greenwood until something had happened to corrupt it. Since dwarrow weren't terribly well versed in the tales of elves, he didn't know for sure what said incident had been; granted, Nori wasn't most dwarves and he's heard his own fair share of rumors from the settlements of men.
The moment the company had dismounted their ponies at the forest's perimeter, there had been an immediate sense of unease that rippled through them. Gandalf had peeled away from the group several leagues behind, headed to some undisclosed location to the north to meet with Radagast. Something about needing to take care of business elsewhere, as damnably vague as the wizard always was when it came to his personal agendas.
Nori watched as their Hobbit dismounted her own pony; at once, it was as though an inner light went out in her eyes as her feet touched the earth. The forest was sick, Beorn had mentioned to her as they'd departed- Nori had been riding too closely for him not to overhear the words the skin-changer had imparted upon the lass.
As much as Nori hoped that Bilba would improve- perhaps futilely- that hope died the further they trudged into the thick wood.
Nori's priorities had always revolved around his kin, first and foremost. No matter what round-about methods he might go about it, he perhaps stupidly kept on his stubborn path. Never mind that he hadn't come so far only to see everything he'd worked for in his life fail; even more now that Bilba was part of his life.
She stayed- or rather, was kept- close to the sons of Ri the first days of travel. Nori's hands twitched near his knives with every unnatural creak and crackle of the deadened trees around them, certain that there was some hidden enemy watching them. There was too much that wasn't right about the forest that there couldn't be- Mahal, he would take an elf if it meant confirming some part of his uneasiness.
Despite her mysterious ailment- perhaps not so mysterious, considering her constant mentions of how close Hobbits were to the earth to mimic the Lady Yavanna- the Hobbit was enough herself to warn her dwarrow not to eat nor drink anything that crossed their path. At a half-hearted protest from Oin, Bilba cited Beorn's words and something that sounded like a prayer to her deity that Nori couldn't help but hear as more a plea.
-;-
Since that point, there hadn't been much more than the repetition of the crunch of leaves underfoot and the odd shift from earth to Age old stepping stones to guide them, Thorin's grunts and calls to direction fading to nothing the longer they took the path.
There was something in the air that confused them. Nori didn't know if it was an old magic steeped from the ages of elves or some other beast, but it became abundantly clear when Bofur stumbled and found a dwarven flask that belonged to him.
Thorin halted, features twisted into a scowl as his eyes narrowed suspiciously. The heir to the Lonely Mountain slowly turned on his heel, hand on the hilt of his elven blade. It didn't appear to be glowing- a small blessing in the world of otherness they found themselves in- but it hardly meant there was no danger. Every last one of them were unnerved. On edge. Tense with the expectations of the unknown.
Elves likely still lived in these forests; the very same who had turned their back on aiding their dwarven neighbors during Smaug's desolation of Erebor. Personally, Nori could not say he didn't entirely disagree with the methods in which the elf-king had reasoned so. Even the bravest of man or beast would willingly risk the countless lives who would surely be lost in such a battle- against a creature designed to be nigh unkillable, it would be folly.
For obvious reasons, he didn't share those thoughts with anyone, let alone those in present company.
"We rest here for the night." Thorin finally barked, remaining standing as the dim lighting filtered through the trees above.
It didn't appear they were so deep into the wood no natural light could reach them- rather, it seemed that there was only just enough light for them to realize how dark it was. And Nori feared the further they went into the wood, the harder it would be to see the sky.
Something that would hardly do their Hobbit any good, being a creature of nature. Bilba already seemed as frail as an autumn leaf, skin paling as if she were becoming ill. The flesh around her eyes and mouth were pinched together like she'd bitten into something sour and had yet to shake the taste from her memory.
"Bombur, start a fire. Get some warmth in this dark place." Thorin continued as the company shed themselves of the weight on their shoulders. Oin muttered something to Balin as the pair of elder dwarrow settled next to one another; both clearly as exhausted as the rest of them.
"Nori?"
He blinked. For some strange reason, he'd placed himself defensively in front of Bilba. Even in his own subconscious, it seemed he had an instinctual need to protect the Hobbit and keep her safe. His Hobbit.
Possessive dwarven thoughts. They would do him no good in a place such as this.
"I'm alright, sweets." He assured automatically, unable to help the prickle that crept along the back of his neck as he turned away from the shadowy trees. "How're you holding up?"
"Beorn was not kidding when he had said this forest was sick." She shivered, rubbing her arms as she rubbed her arms. "It feels as though something has smothered it- there's some life left in it, but I couldn't guess how much is able to be revived."
"Some things can't be saved, Bilba." he warned. "Especially in a place like this."
"Some might say that about Erebor, but it hasn't stopped us from going on a mad quest in an attempt to kill a dragon and take it back." She sniffed primly, looking her usual self for a moment. "Though really, I don't know anyone's actually said we're off to kill Smaug."
They might not have said it outright, but none of them had gone into this quest without realizing that in order to get the Arkenstone, it would likely involve slaying the beast that guarded it. Bilba's role in all of it was both the smallest and greatest, the keystone in a great many years of suffering for Durin's Folk.
"No, I don't suppose anyone has." He admitted, grabbing her bag and moving it next to Ori's. Keeping all of his family together in one place satisfied an innate need to protect them, as much as he hated to admit it. "It's hard to say what exactly we're going to do if we finally get to the mountain."
"Not die." Bofur grunted, throwing himself at the ground. "Ideally, anyhow."
"Indeed." Dori agreed, adding his thoughts to the matter for the first time. Usually, the eldest of the siblings kept to himself, but it seemed that in their current position he was more willing to agree to some of the more outlandish thoughts.
Like the fact that there was a very real, very distinct possibility the company would actually make it to the Lonely Mountain by Durin's Day. But what would happen should they find the keyhole that was spoken of in the map lying in the would-be King Under the Mountain's pocket?
Nori didn't want to think of the possibility.
Not when his greatest treasure was sitting next to him, her hands clasped around a mug of dwindling broth, features lit by the small flame of their fire.