Morning dawns, as grey and misty as the one before. Fíli stares with bleary eyes at the hobbit girl as she stirs in her sleep, trying, and failing, to ignore the hissed conversation between Thor and Gandalf as they stand near the ponies.
"You know as well as I, Gandalf, that we do not have time to coddle a naïve girl. This quest is too important."
"I want Bilba Baggins where I can keep an eye on her," comes the low reply. "She's had a fright, to be sure, but she's an intelligent girl and she learns from her mistakes. We cannot risk sending her back to the Shire unescorted. Rivendell is on our route anyway, even if we do not stop there, we can send her in escorted by Balin."
"Why is she so important, wizard?"
"Her mother was a Took," Gandalf says it as though it holds all the significance in the world and the noise that Thor makes shows he obviously understands his meaning. "You know the truths which will be exposed once the artefact is retrieved and she is destined to have a part in that I think." Thor huffs.
"And what are we to do with her until then?" He demands.
"Have Fíli watch over her," Gandalf sounds altogether too pleased with the idea for Fíli's tastes. "It will do him good to learn to be responsible for others, and perhaps it will keep him occupied when the boredom of travel starts to set in." The next thing Fíli hears is the rustle of footsteps and then Thor sits on the ground beside him.
"Why do I have to be the one to look after her?" Fíli asks rather than wait for his uncle to start the conversation.
"Who else would I trust?" His uncle asks in reply. Fíli stares at him.
"You trust everyone here," he says, "you know everyone here, even though I've only ever heard you speak of Dwalin."
"You are right," Thor shakes his head, "and one day you will understand my reasoning, I promise. As for the girl, you were the one to reach her last night. She trusts you as much as she can any of us. Truth be told, to have you watching over the girl will ease my mind. Should anything go awry before we are able to leave her in Rivendell it will be good to know that you are near her and away from the fighting."
"I can fight, Uncle!" Fíli protests. "You've been training me for it since I was a child. I know I failed in the Fell Winter, but-"
"My decision has nothing to do with that," Thor cuts him off. "The failure was mine , not yours. You can fight, lad, and I have seen few better at your age, but people are injured and killed in fights, friends as well as allies. I have lost much in my life and seen too many members of my family slain, I would not add you to that list." Fíli sighs. "You are not of age yet, lad. At least allow me to keep you safe until then."
"I am not a child, Uncle," Fíli points out, "I'll be of age in a little under a year."
"Aye," Thor breathes, "and you may have to remind me a time or two that you are not the wriggling blond pebble I brought with me to Bree all those years ago." He leans to tap the side of his head against Fíli's and the young dwarf lets himself sink into the affectionate gesture. "You did well last night, where did you learn to calm a person like that?" Fíli's lips twist ruefully.
"It has always worked with lost children and being good with children seems to impress dams of any race," he confesses and is pleased when Thor releases a booming laugh. It has been a long time since he heard such from his uncle, perhaps even before the Fell Winter. He knows it could be a long while until he hears such again and he treasures it, even as those who were sleeping stir and wake from the sound.
The hobbit girl, Bilba he reminds himself, does not wake with a grumble like the others do. She sits upright with a small shriek, skittering in her bedroll as she looks around her. In the early morning light Fíli can easily see scratches and welts on her face from her headlong flight the previous night. Her dark curls are in complete disarray and fall unevenly about her shoulders as though recently hacked shorter. She's clearly uncomfortable, Fíli realises, and he turns his gaze to the others. Balin is feeding more wood onto the fire, a pot of porridge having been hung there at some point during his watch. Ori is sitting up, scratching absently at his chest and yawning widely as Nori's nimble fingers weave quick braids through his sleep mussed hair where it is long enough to be done. Dwalin is already securing his and Nori's bedrolls to their ponies and muttering to himself as he moves bags and supplies around. It takes Fíli a long moment watching before he realises that the older dwarf is freeing up a mount for Bilba and it occurs to him to wonder whether she can even ride. Hobbits don't ride, as a rule, and he suspects that as out of practice as he is the task of teaching her will still fall to him as a part of his job to watch over her.
"Can I sit here?" Bilba asks, drawing him away from his perusal of the camp.
"No one's carved their name on it," he shrugs. She stares at him for a long moment, as though baffled by his response and it occurs to him that he has probably said something that only dwarrow and those they drink with regularly might say. It's a phrase that is used commonly enough in The Prancing Pony, even among the hobbits and Men who drink there. "Feel free," he adds in clarification and she lowers herself carefully to sit next to him.
Awkward silence follows. Fíli thinks of a dozen ways to start a conversation, but it is early, and he is on his second night of little to no sleep. Bilba is equally silent and after a few minutes he gets to his feet so that he can begin to load his own gear onto his pony. He suspects that the trip to Rivendell is going to be anything other than pleasant.
The following days prove him correct. Bilba has never learnt to ride and their pace slows considerably with her regular complaints and the need to correct her seat or help her back on entirely when her poor posture and jumpiness causes her to fall off. This, in turn, leads to Thor's already short temper beginning to fray and Fíli begins to contemplate the possibility of putting Bilba on his pony with him, if only to keep her in the saddle. Were he not so out of practice himself he knows he would not hesitate, it wouldn't improve their pace much but it would stop Thor from glaring at them both every time Bilba opens her mouth.
"This is foolishness," he hears Balin hiss one night when Fíli's bladder wakes him. "You must see it. There is danger in what we are about, and you know as well as I the risk should something befall her. Thorin !" Fíli shifts, the name is familiar and features in many of the tales Ori has shared over the years. It is not , however, the name of any travelling with them.
"You have been told not to use that name," Thor growls.
"It's disrespectful to call you by any other!" Balin rumbles crossly.
"The greater disrespect is ignoring my orders to do just that," Thor responds. "This is important, old friend."
"The truth will need to come out one day," Balin mutters.
"Aye," Thor agrees, "but it will be a day of my choosing, when the time is right. Better it all remain hidden in innocent ignorance." There is a pause. "I dislike her presence as much as you do, Balin. I am more aware than any other here except the wizard of the importance of that treaty, but the more I see of her the more I am convinced that Gandalf may well be correct to keep her with us. She is headstrong, and more ignorant of the world than even Fíli and Ori. She comes with us to Rivendell, Lord Elrond will ensure that she is in the right place at the right time."
Fíli keeps still in his bedroll as he hears his uncle and Balin trade watches. What he has heard troubles him. The name Thorin will always be familiar, every dwarrow alive has heard it though no dwarf has been given the name at birth since the time of Durin VI, and that is something Fíli does not understand in the slightest. After all, why should the name of a son of Durin be forbidden? Periodically, and in times of great need, a dwarf who gives his name as Thorin (usually Oakenshield but sometimes the stories call him Durin's Shield) will appear and lead Durin's folk to safety or victory, and then vanish again soon after. Even were his uncle's name to truly be Thorin, Fíli can think of no reason that it would need to be hidden. It still brings him back to the idea that his uncle may not be who he has always claimed to be, and that is a thought that has trouble Fíli since Gandalf's arrival. This new evidence is not reassuring, Balin clearly believes that Thor should be addressed by another name and is obviously unhappy with the one he is being ordered to use. His uncle didn't even say that the name isn't his, just reminded Balin not to use it and that troubles Fíli most of all. It is yet another reminder that his uncle may not be who Fíli has always believed him to be.
He dwells on it after he has taken care of the business which woke him and falls asleep with the questions still running through his head. It brings dreams with it, dreams where his uncle tells him he is unwanted and does not belong. Dreams of Kíli asking who he truly was or that his brother is gone because he worked out the truth that Fíli was too foolish to see.
His confusion is no less when he wakes to see Thor smiling fondly as Dwalin recounts some childish mischief of his and Kíli's to Bilba. The hobbit is smirking and her eyes glitter with the light of the rising sun. Fíli wonders how many stories Dwalin has told her, especially when she glances at him and bursts into peels of laughter. He flushes, though he has no idea why, and determines to turn his focus onto the fact that it looks like a beautiful day.
