Chapter 13 - Dís
Chapter summary: "Tell me, Mr Baggins - which one of my sons have you managed to ensnare with your wily charms?"
Dís was just thinking about ending the audiences for the day and having some dinner when one of the gate guards ran into the hall, a bewildered look on his face.
"My Lady," he began once he caught his breath, "there's a strange halfling outside who claims that he's bearing news from King Thorin. Should I let him in?"
Dís ignored the flutter of nervous anticipation in her stomach and sat up straighter on her brother's throne. Finally, news from Thorin. They hadn't heard from him for more than a year. How strange that a halfling should be the one to bear the message, and not one of the companions.
She beckoned the guard to bring their visitor in.
The door to the audience chamber opened and in walked the strangest halfling she had ever laid her eyes on. Over the years Dís had often ridden through the green countryside of the Shire and seen enough of these strange little people to form an accurate (and not terribly flattering) picture of them in her head. This particular hobbit, however, was unlike any she had ever seen.
He strode in clad in shining mithril mail with an elven sword on his belt, back straight, clever eyes scanning the hall as he walked closer. By all accounts he should have looked completely ridiculous – a pudgy halfling strutting around in shiny elvish armour, pretending to be a warrior – but somehow, he didn't. Strangely enough, the mail looked good on him, maybe because he wore it with the air of someone used to dressing for a battlefield.
As he came closer, whispers started around the hall as some of the dwarves noticed that he had a dwarven braid in his hair, which was unusually long for a hobbit. Dís thought the bead looked rather familiar, but decided to ponder the issue later.
The halfling crossed the hall and stopped before the throne, bowing deeply in dwarven fashion.
"Bilbo Baggins at your service, my Lady."
He had good manners, she had to give him that.
"Dís, daughter of Thráin, at yours," she replied. "What brings you to my halls?"
"I bring a message from Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain."
Dís bit back the sigh of relief that had tried to make its way out of her throat.
"Thorin has succeeded then?"
The halfling smiled.
"Yes. The dragon is dead and the mountain has been reclaimed by the line of Durin once more." He raised his voice a bit. "Erebor is open to all who wish return. Thorin offers a home to everyone who is willing to come and help him restore the kingdom to its former glory."
"What about his companions? Did they all survive the journey?" Dís knew she wasn't the only one curious about their fate. Glóin's wife was standing by the door with her son, gripping a basket with both hands.
"They are all fine," the hobbit said, his smile growing a little wider when he spotted Nora and Gimli in the crowd. "Everybody survived both the dragon and the battle."
"The battle? What battle?" young Gimli blurted out eagerly, his curiosity making him forget about his manners. Dís let him be – the lad had been awfully disappointed that he hadn't been allowed to join Thorin's quest. She rose from the throne.
"Perhaps it would be better if you told us the whole story over dinner. Your journey has been long and you must be hungry."
The halfling fidgeted a bit.
"I would hate to impose on your hospitality."
"Nonsense." Dís said briskly. "It wouldn't do to have a guest standing around hungry while we all stuff our faces." She beckoned to him in invitation. "Come, Mr Baggins, dine with us, and tell us about your adventures."
He nodded with some reluctance, trailing after her as she started leading the way towards the dining hall.
"I assume you're the mystery halfling Thorin was grumbling about before he left here," she said when he fell into step beside her. The rest of the court filed into the corridor behind them, valiantly trying to pretend that they weren't eavesdropping on their conversation.
"That I am, my Lady," the hobbit nodded with a hint of amusement. "It was Gandalf the Wizard who chose me as the fourteenth member of Thorin's company. I am afraid no one, myself included, was terribly pleased by that choice at first."
That made her smile, remembering how disgruntled Thorin had been at having a Halfling of all people as a member of his company.
Dís led the hobbit to the Great Dining Hall, which held a long wooden table with more than fifty seats and a few smaller tables. At his questioning gaze she replied:
"I would normally dine in my chambers, but there are many who wish to hear your tale. I hope you do not mind."
The hobbit shook his head. "Not at all. At least this way I will only have to tell it once. It's a very long story."
There were plenty of dishes on the table and the hobbit tucked in with great enthusiasm. Dís ate at a more sedate pace, using the moment to study him properly. She hadn't been mistaken after all – the bead in his hair was indeed Thorin's and when he bowed his head, Kíli's silver clasp shone in his hair. How interesting.
Judging by the whispers around them, she wasn't the only one who had noticed. It appeared that most of the court had come to the dining hall to listen to the halfling's tale and several of the relatives of Thorin's companions could be seen sitting down at the long table as well. They must have been fetched from somewhere, as they hadn't been present during the audience. More dwarves kept coming inside as they ate, sitting down wherever they could, and when all the seats were full, the rest of them simply went to stand by the wall.
The hobbit paid the assembly no notice, busy as he was with his chips. He ate with obvious pleasure, piling his plate high with all the food he could reach. Finally, after he had consumed enough food to sustain a small army, he sat back with a sigh of satisfaction and began his tale.
"It was a fine morning near the end of April when Gandalf the Wizard came to my door in Hobbiton. He spoke to me cryptically about adventures and other business that I didn't care about and I was very glad to see him go. The next thing I knew, there were thirteen dwarves sitting in my kitchen, eating their way through my pantry..."
And so he told them all about trolls and goblins, spiders and elves. He was a gifted storyteller and by the time he got to the dragon's demise, he had the entire hall hanging on his every word. He finished his tale with the battle and Thorin's coronation and Dís couldn't help but notice that by the time he got to the end, many of the dwarves were looking at him with wonder and no small amount of respect, which was only good if she was right in guessing her brother's plans concerning the halfling.
The hobbit's eyelids were getting heavier and his yawns more frequent as he spoke, so when he finally finished his story, Dís shooed the curious courtiers out of the room and decided to personally escort him to his rooms. There were some matters that were better discussed in private.
"I hope you will be staying for the celebrations," she told him as they walked down the corridor.
"I would hate to impose-" the hobbit began.
"Nonsense," Dís said. "You were part of Thorin's Company and helped him reclaim the mountain. That gives you full right to partake in the festivities with us."
"Very well," the hobbit finally conceded, "I can stay for a bit, but I will have to go back to the Shire in a day or two. I left Gandalf to house-sit my hobbit hole for me, but it's better not to leave him alone for too long. Valar know what he could do to it if he got bored."
Dís gave him an amused look, but didn't comment on that. When they reached the door to his room, she gestured for him to go first and walked in after him, closing the door behind them.
"I won't bother you any longer, since you are obviously fatigued from your journey, but we shall have a talk tomorrow." At his questioning look she elaborated. "I am not stupid, Mr Baggins. I know you must have left out parts of your story, probably out of some misplaced sense of propriety, and I am most curious to hear how you came across that bead," she gestured towards Bilbo's hair.
The hobbit reached up to finger the bead, cradling it in his hand almost protectively. A soft smile appeared on his face at the gesture and she had to suppress a smile of her own. So that's how it was. Her suspicion had been right after all. How interesting that her brother should choose a hobbit of all people as his intended. She would have to observe the Halfling carefully before she made any judgements, but the smile she had just seen gave her hope.
Oh, yes, she thought as she walked back to her chambers a few minutes later, this should prove to be most interesting.
°O°O°O°
One of the servants brought the hobbit to her dining room the next morning. Dís couldn't help but notice that he had foregone the shiny mail this time and wondered whether he was aware of the gesture of trust he was unconsciously giving her. Probably not – if she could guess, she would say that he had laid the mithril aside out of practicality. He might have spent a year in the company of dwarves, but there were many aspects of their culture that he still probably had no idea about.
The hobbit still looked a bit sleepy when he came in but his eyes were alert, studying her face with interest. Dís knew what he was looking at – the family resemblance between her and Thorin had always been strong. While he piled food on his plate, she dismissed the servants from the room, allowing them to speak in complete privacy.
"You have a beautiful home," the halfling said, pouring his tea. "Fíli and Kíli told me plenty about it when I travelled with them, but I'm still glad for the opportunity to see it with my own eyes."
Dís nodded, accepting the compliment. He was clearly attempting to make some polite conversation, but she had never been fond of pointless small talk. She decided to cut right to the point that interested her.
"Tell me, Mr Baggins," she said, making him look up, "which one of my sons have you managed to ensnare with your wily charms?"
She had to suppress an amused smile when he choked on his tea, sputtering. She knew it was evil of her to tease him like that, but the opportunity had simply been too good to pass up.
"I beg you pardon?" he said, blinking incredulously. Judging by the hint of pink on his cheeks, he was desperately trying (and failing) to fight down a blush. Dís folded her fingers in front of her, propping her chin on her hands.
"You're wearing Kíli's clasp in your hair and unless I am very much mistaken, the jewel on your neck used to belong to my mother. You can't blame me for wondering how you came by those. Since you claim that both of my sons are alive and you didn't steal it from them, the only other possible explanation is that you are having an affair with one of them. So, which one is it?" She waited a heartbeat before she added: "Or is it both of them?"
This time she couldn't hide her smirk when his blush turned bright red until he looked like he was going to faint any minute now. He gaped at her for a few moments before he noticed her amusement, his eyes narrowing. To his credit, it didn't take him long to recover from his loss of equilibrium.
"It's neither, actually," he said when he finally trusted himself to speak. "Both of these were presents, freely given."
"Is that so?" Dís raised an eyebrow. She took great pleasure in watching him deliberate his next move. It was clear that he didn't want to insult her, but wasn't pleased with her implications, either.
"Yes," he said firmly. "If it's any consolation, I tried to give both of those things back, but they insisted that I should have them." He paused for a second in hesitation before he raised his eyes to hers, lifting his chin. "In case you were wondering, the bead is Thorin's."
He stared at her in challenge, waiting for her reaction. Dís gave him a nod of approval, her smile widening. He was braver than she had thought. She had never expected him to admit that freely and couldn't help but admire that courage.
"I had guessed as much," she admitted. "I just couldn't quite believe it."
"Why?" he cocked his head. "Because a hobbit is such an unlikely choice for your brother, or because you find it hard to believe that anybody would be willing to put up with Thorin?"
That drew a startled laugh from her and she sat back in her chair, gazing at him with new appreciation.
"Both, I suppose," she said, no longer trying to hide her smile. The hobbit relaxed a bit at her reaction, but still watched her with wary eyes. "Thorin has always been awfully picky. He has never looked at anyone twice because no one was ever good enough for him. I have long given up on ever seeing him settle down with anyone, so it's quite surprising to hear this from you."
She gave him a long look, studying him intently until he started shifting in his chair under the weight of her gaze.
"You're not what I expected, Bilbo Baggins," she said finally, "but I like you. There aren't many people who have been able to able to win my brother's affection. I suppose that under current circumstances, you may call me Dís. After all, we are soon to be family, are we not?"
He smiled, the last traces of wariness finally leaving his posture. "I suppose so. Call me Bilbo, then. Everyone else does."
They turned back to their food, both of them digging in before the tea went cold. The breakfast was almost over when Bilbo straightened in his chair, blinking in sudden realisation.
"I almost forgot!" he exclaimed, reaching for his bag. "You made me so flustered with your questions that I have nearly forgotten why I came here in the first place."
He drew out a small parcel wrapped in dark blue fabric and a stack of letters.
"These are for you," he said, handing her the parcel along with three letters from the pile. "Fíli, Kíli and Thorin have all written to you after the battle, probably to tell you about all that happened. I have no idea what's in that box. Thorin gave it to me with the instruction to hand it over to you. He said that you will know what it is."
Dís lifted the parcel with careful hands, breaking Thorin's seal on the package. Inside she discovered a familiar small box made of polished wood decorated with pearl inlay on the lid. She ran a gentle hand over the wood, her eyes watering a little as long-forgotten memories flooded her.
When she'd been a small girl, she used to visit her mother every night and play on the carpet next to the bed while her mother unbraided her hair and prepared for bed. Little Dís would ask about the different gems and jewels that her mother wore and mother would explain in a gentle voice about the history behind the gems. Together they would then carefully lay the jewels to sleep in the box, keeping them safe so that Dís might one day wear them, too.
The box had stayed in Erebor, left behind in the panic caused by the dragon's rampage. Dís knew that her mother had mourned the loss of the box for many years, regretting that she hadn't been able to recover this piece of family history from her quarters during the evacuation.
And now the box was back in her hands, after so many years. Dís reached up and wiped away her tears, not embarrassed in the slightest by her reaction to the gift. When she looked up, the hobbit was staring studiously into his tea, clearly determined to give her some privacy.
"Thank you for bringing this to me," she told him, meaning every word. The hobbit gave her a soft smile in understanding.
"You're welcome." He rose from the table, gathering his backpack and the rest of the letters. "I will leave you alone so you can read your letters in peace. My friends have all written messages and tasked me with delivering them to their families, so I have plenty of searching to do. If you'll excuse me."
He gave her a small bow and walked out, closing the door quietly behind him. Dís remained sitting at the table, holding the box with a small smile. Her brother was smarter than she gave him credit for. Sending the hobbit with her mother's jewellery box had been a stroke of genius on his part – Thorin knew all too well how much that box meant to her and had accurately predicted that she wouldn't be able to turn away anyone who had brought it to her.
But clever or not, there was one thing Thorin hadn't predicted – Bilbo Baggins himself. Maybe Thorin hadn't liked him at first, so he felt that he had to send the box to bribe Dís into liking the hobbit, but Dís found the whole manoeuvre quite unnecessary.
She liked Bilbo Baggins already.
°O°O°O°
It was good to have Kíli back.
He and Dwalin came back home in September, four months after Bilbo's departure. The hobbit had stayed in the Blue Mountains for two days and spent most of his time besieged from all sides by the Companions' various friends and relatives. Young Gimli, especially, had taken to following him around, asking the hobbit to tell him more about the battle and the dragon. The hobbit had enjoyed great popularity among the local dwarfs and more than a few had been disappointed to see him leave.
Dís had long suspected that Bilbo hadn't told her everything about the journey, probably out of his respect for Thorin, but it wasn't until Kíli came that she learned just how much the hobbit had left out. Since they were sitting in the privacy of Dís's own rooms, Kíli could tell the story without embellishments and so Dís found out about many of the less savoury aspects of their journey that the halfling hadn't mentioned.
Namely - her brother's greed and foolishness and the way he had nearly caused a war with the elves. The longer Kíli talked, the more her respect for the hobbit grew. Few had ever had the courage to stand up to Thorin when he was at his most furious, and even fewer had lived to tell the tale. That Thorin had forgiven the hobbit for openly challenging him and calling him a fool in front of an audience showed that her brother must like the halfling very much indeed.
It was late at night when Kíli finished his tale, yawning widely in his armchair. He made a token protest when she pulled him into an embrace, mumbling something about being too old for cuddles, but let her hug him anyway. Dís held her son close for a moment, silently thanking all the gods that they had kept him alive. To think that she might have lost him, that she had nearly lost them all...
Kíli wiggled out of her arms after a moment, announcing that he was going to sleep. He ambled towards the door in his usual carefree manner, his movements perfectly casual, but when he looked back at her before he left, his eyes were soft and held far more understanding than she would expect. Kíli had grown while he'd been away.
And so had Fíli, most likely. It would be a while yet before Dís would be able to see him, because there were so many preparations to make. Moving so many people at once would be exhausting and since nobody wanted to travel over the mountains in the middle of winter, they would have to wait until March at least before they could set out. In the meantime, however, there were other things they could do.
Dís found herself quite curious about Bilbo Baggins. The hobbit had greatly downplayed his own role in the story, talking about the dwarves instead, and she was most interested to hear more about him from someone who wasn't affected by useless modesty. Kíli was more than glad to oblige and he spent the next few days babbling about the hobbit, singing his praises.
It was his idea to go for a visit to the Shire.
Several weeks passed before they were able to go, so it was October when Dís, Kíli and Dwalin finally set out. The latter had pretended reluctance before he finally agreed to come, mumbling something about roads being dangerous, but Dís knew all too well that he was looking forward to the hobbit's cooking, something Kíli had waxed poetics about.
The journey was short, pleasant and uneventful, the green lands of the Shire as beautiful as ever. They passed plenty of hobbits who looked at them curiously but nobody dared say anything to their face, turning away to mutter to their neighbours once they passed. The three dwarves paid little attention to them, making their way to the door on top of the Hill, where Bilbo's bright green door stood shining in welcome.
Dís stepped forward to knock on the door, Kíli peering excitedly over her shoulder. Dwalin stood a few steps behind them, gazing at the neighbouring houses in feigned disinterest, but his eyes strayed to the door every so often. There was a shuffling sound from inside and a minute later the door opened, revealing a pretty hobbit lass with dark curly hair and sky blue eyes. She smiled warmly when she saw them.
"Hello, I am Primula. Bilbo mentioned you may be coming. Come in and make yourself comfortable, I will go and fetch him for you."
She stepped away from the door, holding it open for them. Dís noted with amusement that Kíli suddenly looked very self-conscious about the mud on his shoes.
They had barely stepped over the threshold, taking in the mithril mail displayed proudly in the entrance hall, when a male voice called from one of the rooms: "Primula, dear, where did you put my shirts?"
The hobbitess sighed in fond exasperation and called back: "They're in the second drawer." She turned back to them. "You'll have to excuse my husband. He can be a bit disorganized."
Dwalin and Kíli exchanged a glance. Husband?
There was a scuttling sound and an unfamiliar hobbit poked his head around the corner.
"We have visitors?" He looked a little taken aback by their appearance, Dwalin's especially, but recovered quickly. "Oh, you must be Bilbo's dwarves. He's in the back garden. Go straight down the corridor, it's the last door in the left."
Both hobbits shuffled away into the bedroom, but not before giving them a few more curious looks. The three dwarves made their way through the tunnel, with Kíli leading the way. The young dwarf was practically vibrating with excitement and walked as fast as the cramped space would allow. He managed to find the right door on the second try and opened it wide, stepping out into the back garden.
Bilbo Baggins sat on a bench beneath a window, blowing smoke rings. He was dressed much more hobbit-like than when Dís had first seen him, wearing a nice embroidered waistcoat with brass buttons and a pair of cropped trousers, but his hair was longer than Dís remembered. He now had a mane of curls that reached down to his shoulderblades, spilling over his back like a river of gold. His dwarvish braid hung down next to his left cheek, the bead swinging right above his shoulder.
The hobbit jumped up when he saw them and bowed to Dís with a smile.
"Bilbo Baggins at your service, my Lady."
"Bilbo!"
The hobbit had barely straightened up when Kíli sprung forward and caught him in a hug, almost bowling him over in his enthusiasm. Bilbo looked a little taken aback but pleased nonetheless, hugging Kíli back.
"It's nice to see you too, Kíli." He patted the dwarf's shoulder. Kíli squeezed him in return, his grin wide enough to split his face in two.
Bilbo's eyes slid to the last member of their small group and his smile widened.
"Oh, Dwalin is here as well. Welcome." The burly dwarf gave him a nod in return and Bilbo shooed them all back inside, closing the door to block the stares of curious neighbours, who had all just happened to stop right by Bilbo's hedge.
"Nosy little buggers," he muttered, "they won't leave me alone these days. A few months ago somebody spread a rumour that I have piles of treasure buried in my cellar and ever since then I haven't had a moment of peace."
"Have they been bothering you?" Kíli looked genuinely concerned.
Bilbo shook his head, smiling.
"Nobody has tried to sneak in yet, but I have caught some lads digging in my garden once. I'm not quite sure what I had threatened them with, as I was a bit drunk at the time, but they haven't shown themselves since." He chuckled. "I think I might have mentioned a dragon at some point."
He nimbly sidestepped the various garden tools propped against the wall and led them to the kitchen, where he started puttering around, leading a steady string of monologue as he pulled out various pots and pans.
"I'm afraid you have missed lunch, but I can put something together for you anyway. You must be hungry from your journey. Will you be staying for dinner? Why do I even ask, of course you will. I had planned to make some tarts for the breakfast tomorrow. Is raspberry fine? I should still have some poppy seed cakes somewhere, I know you like those, Kíli. I suppose a roast for dinner will be fine, no?" He stopped for a moment to look at Dwalin, who was gazing longingly at the pantry. Bilbo gave him a grin. "Go help yourself, Dwalin. I have replenished all my stock, so there should be plenty to eat, even with your appetite."
Dwalin and Kíli both got up at once, heading for the pantry with confidence born of familiarity. Dís stayed seated, watching the scene unfold with a smile. Bilbo stopped in the middle of pouring tea, suddenly realising that the two of them had been left alone in the room.
"What would you like to drink? I have tea, cider, brandy and several bottles of last year's wine."
"Wine would be nice, thank you." Dís said, catching his wrist gently when he started for the pantry. "Kíli can bring it, he's there already. I'm much more interested in talking to you. It seems you have left out some parts of your tale."
The hobbit sat down on a stool, fidgeting.
"I admit that I may have taken a little artistic license with the tale." He grimaced. "The parts that I left out didn't show either me or Thorin in a very flattering light. I didn't want you to think that I have travelled halfway across the continent just to complain about your brother, when there were so many other, better news to tell."
Dís nodded. "That is fair enough, but I would have liked to hear it anyway."
Before she could say anything more, the two hobbits appeared in the doorway.
"We'll be off, then," Primula said, clutching a small bag in her hands.
"You don't have to leave just because I have visitors," Bilbo protested, standing up. "There is plenty of room for everyone here."
"I know," she smiled, "but my Ma has been pestering me for ages to come for a visit. This is as good an opportunity as any. Besides, most of our things are still at her house, so it's not a hardship to stay there for a few days."
Bilbo still looked sceptical, but nodded.
"Very well, go visit the Brandybucks if you wish, but know that you can come back here anytime. After all, this is your home now, too."
Both hobbits waved at them cheerfully and left. Bilbo stood by the table for a moment, shuffling his feet, before he went back to the stove. Kíli and Dwalin came into the kitchen a few minutes later, carrying armfuls of food.
"Just put it down on the table," Bilbo waved at them. "I'll finish the meat and we can eat at once. I made some nice apple pies this morning, so you can have those later, too."
It didn't take him long to put together a small feast. Dís had to admire his efficiency and - when she bit into the first piece of tender roast – admit that Kíli hadn't exaggerated his cooking skills in the slightest. Kíli and Dwalin looked like they were having a moment of quiet bliss, lost in the land of delicious food. The hobbit just smiled at their raptured expressions and loaded more meat on Dwalin's plate.
"Those hobbits live with you?" Dís asked. Bilbo nodded.
"Drogo and Primula are both my relatives from different sides of the family. They got married last summer and I thought that they might like to have a place of their own, so I let them move here a month ago. Since I will be moving to Erebor, it would be a shame for such a nice hobbit hole to stand empty."
"You're really coming back to Erebor?" Kíli asked eagerly. Bilbo gave him a smile.
"Yes, I'm coming back."
"Will you be alright?" Kíli's brow furrowed, probably remembering the entire deal with the dragon fever. Bilbo's eyes softened at Kíli's concern.
"I'll be fine," he assured the young dwarf. "I spent a few weeks in Rivendell and managed to sort everything out. Elrond was most helpful in that – he gave me some potion that made me sleep for two days and when I woke up, the last remnants of the sickness were gone." He smiled. "It's good to have my mind all to myself again."
"That's good to hear," Kíli said, looking genuinely pleased. "Our caravan from the Blue Mountains should be leaving for Erebor in spring, so you can come with us."
"I'll be happy to." Bilbo nodded.
Kíli chose that moment to reach for the plate of apple tarts that was lying on the window sill. The hobbit's hand shot forward in a flash, slapping Kíli's fingers back.
"No," Bilbo said sternly. "Those are for teatime. Eat your lunch first."
Dís watched with fascination as Kíli shrunk back, meekly going back to his food. Even more amusing was to watch Bilbo turn his glare on Dwalin, who had been in the process of reaching for the tart as well. Dís had to suppress a grin when the great warrior visibly deflated and pulled his hand back, lifting a piece of chicken instead.
"Does this work on my brother, too?" Dís asked with interest. The hobbit blushed, probably realising that he had just slapped her son in front of her, but Kíli perked up.
"You should have heard the lecture Bilbo gave Thorin after he had dared to complain that our manner of escape from the elvish dungeon wasn't dignified enough. I have never seen Uncle look so small."
Dís turned back to the hobbit, who was fiddling with a napkin, a sheepish smile on his face.
"I was sleep deprived," Bilbo muttered, piling more mashed potatoes on his plate. Dís raised an eyebrow at Kíli, who just grinned back.
"How long will you be staying?" Bilbo asked when they finished the meal. He got up and started cleaning up the plates.
"We were hoping to spend a few days here, if it's not too much of a bother," Dís answered for them all. "Kíli, especially, was looking forward to spending more time with you."
Bilbo gave the dwarf in question a fond smile.
"Of course. Stay as long as you like. My home is always open to you."
°O°O°O°
They ended up staying for a week.
Bilbo Baggins was a generous host – he fed them until they could barely move and always made sure that they had everything they could possibly need. Dís enjoyed the opportunity to take some time off from her duties and just spend a few days relaxing. Watching the interactions between Bilbo, Kíli and Dwalin was fascinating and provided her with plenty of entertainment.
"So, what shall we do today?" Kíli asked at breakfast on the second morning. "I thought you might take us on a tour of the Shire."
"I can do that," Bilbo said, "but don't expect to see much. I'm afraid you will be bored with Shire, soon."
"I don't think we will be," Kíli assured him. "But even if we were, we can keep ourselves entertained just fine." He shot a look between Dwalin and Bilbo, a mischievous smile appearing on his face. "Thorin wanted me to remind you that you should keep up with your sword lessons."
Their reactions were instant and Dís had to cover her grin when she saw the identical looks of horror and disgust on both their faces.
"No," Bilbo said resolutely, shaking his head. "Absolutely not. There won't be any sword lessons while you are here. Not if I can help it. Thorin is not here right now to tell us what to do and since this is my house, I am declaring it entirely sword-free."
"Thank Mahal for small mercies," Dwalin murmured, making them all laugh.
"What about archery?" Kíli asked, giving the hobbit his best puppy dog eyes. Bilbo resisted for a moment before he gave in, sighing in resignation.
"Very well, but I have to warn you that I haven't improved in the slightest since you last saw me. I'm still hopeless at shooting straight."
"We can work on that," Kíli said with a grin. "Besides, we're doing this for fun."
"Right." Bilbo said in deadpan. "Fun."
But it was. Dís spent a pleasant afternoon watching them as her son tried to improve the Bilbo's abominable technique with the bow while the hobbit did his best to sabotage him. They bickered and joked and despite Bilbo's loud protests at having to learn how to shoot, it was clear that they were both having a good time.
A few days later, after they had moved to the hobbit's sitting room in the evening, Kíli walked over and came to stand by Bilbo's favourite armchair with an expectant look on his face.
"What is it, Kíli?" Bilbo asked, putting aside his book.
"Thorin wants you to have this," Kíli said, producing a small box from his pocket. "Since he couldn't come himself to offer it in person, he asked me to do it for him. You don't have to accept it if you don't want to," he added quickly as the hobbit opened the box, gazing at the bead inside.
"I accept," Bilbo said softly, giving Kíli a smile. "Will you put it in my hair, please? I still haven't figured out how to make the braids properly."
Kíli only hesitated for a second before he nodded, gesturing for the hobbit to sit down on a low stool while he fetched a comb. Dís wondered why Bilbo pretended incompetence about his braiding skills – the courting braid in his hair was perfectly adequate, so she had no doubt that he would have no problem weaving the engagement bead into his second braid, either. There was no need to ask Kíli to do it for him.
She found out the reason soon enough.
"You haven't cut your hair," Kíli said with a dreamy smile as he carded his fingers through the hobbit's plentiful curls. Bilbo shook his head.
"No, I haven't. It was a bit bothersome to have so much hair at first, but now I have grown quite fond of it." He tugged on one of the longer strands with a smile. "I suspect it's one of the reasons why the locals think I've gone mad. They would be willing to quietly tolerate my adventure if I had gone back to my respectable ways after my return, but since I refused to do that, I have become a bit of a local spectacle."
Despite his words he was smiling and looked quite pleased with himself. "As far as the Shire is concerned, I am now the Mad Baggins - the hobbit who runs away with dwarves and threatens thieves with a sword."
"That sounds like the best kind of a hobbit to me," Kíli grinned.
"Tell that to my neighbours," Bilbo said. "I'm afraid I entirely lost my reputation of respectability when I came back wearing elvish armour." He shook his head with a sigh. "I wouldn't be able to stand living here for another sixty years. If I couldn't move to Erebor, I would probably run off to Rivendell at the first opportunity."
"Then it's a good thing you're moving away with us," Kíli said with a smile. "Will you tell me another story? I don't think you ever got to finish the tale about Eärendil."
"You're right, I didn't, but it's been so long that I forgot which parts I already told you." He gave the dwarf a look. "You don't mind if I tell it from the start, do you?"
Kíli's smile widened. "When have I ever?" He was still carding his hands through Bilbo's hair, not even bothering to pretend that he was braiding anything.
"I learned plenty of new stories when I stayed in the Elvenking's palace on my way home." Bilbo cocked an eyebrow. "Did you know that Thranduil used to fight dragons when he was younger?"
"Did he?" Kíli asked with interest. Bilbo nodded.
"Yes, it makes for some wonderful tales. But I can tell you about that later. Let's finish the one about Eärendil first."
They settled into a comfortable position – Kíli plopped himself into Bilbo's favourite chair while Bilbo sat down on the rug by his feet, leaning back against the dwarf's knees. Kíli soon resumed his combing and Bilbo started his tale, both of them looking at peace with the world.
Dís sat in the corner, watching the exchange with fascination. She couldn't help but marvel at the familiar manner with which they treated each other. The open affection and camaraderie between them spoke volumes about the level of trust between them and if Bilbo weren't wearing Thorin's bead in his hair, she might be even inclined to start speculating about the nature of their relationship.
Still, just because she knew, didn't mean that she couldn't get some entertainment out of it – after all, embarrassing one's own children was the sacred duty of every parent. After the hobbit went to bed, she managed to sneak up on Kíli in the kitchen, where he was in the process of trying to smuggle one of Bilbo's apple pies into his room.
"One would almost think that you were the one courting him, with the way you act around him," she spoke from the doorway, causing Kíli to jump a foot in the air. She hid a grin when Kíli spun around and took a hasty step away from the table, quickly hiding the pie behind his back.
"Oh no, he's just a friend," he hurried to answer, putting on his best expression of innocent nonchalance. "A very good friend, but a friend nonetheless. Besides, even if I was interested - which I'm not - I like being alive too much to risk Uncle's wrath."
"That's good to hear. He seems to be very fond of you. I suppose that I should thank him for looking after you during the journey."
Kíli nodded. "He took care of us all. Did you know that he saved Thorin's life several times?"
"I can believe that," Dís said.
"So you approve of him?" Kíli asked, a hint of smile around his lips. Dís nodded.
"I do. Thorin has chosen well."
"Does that mean we can visit Bilbo again? Midwinter would be a good time." He gave her his best pleading look.
"Actually, I was thinking about inviting him to the Blue Mountains for the winter festivities," Dís said. "He was received well the last time he was there and I think Gimli especially would like to hear more of his tales."
Kíli's eyes lit up. "Can I invite him, then?"
"Yes, you may," she said, smiling. "It wouldn't do to keep our family apart, would it?"
"No. It wouldn't."
Bilbo chose that moment to appear in the doorway behind Kíli's back. He gave Dís a heartfelt smile and a nod of gratitude, not even trying to pretend that he hadn't heard them. Before he could say anything, however, his gaze fell on the pie in Kíli's hands, his eyes narrowing. Without making any sound, he took a few careful steps forward until he stood right behind Kíli's back.
"Is that my apple pie, Kíli?"
Kíli's eyes widened in almost comical horror.
"No?" he tried tentatively, placing the pie carefully back on the table. The hobbit folded his arms, tapping his food impatiently until Kíli shuffled back to the cabinet, obediently returning the pie back in its place. Fascinating, Dís thought as she watched her son shrink in face of Bilbo's lecture.
She couldn't wait to see Bilbo with Thorin.
To be continued...
A/N: The character of Dís may be completely missing from the original book, but her absence has always made me all the more curious about her – who was the woman who brought up Fíli and Kíli? Who had grown up with Thorin and watched her entire family fall to madness and ruin until only she alone remained?
From what I've seen, a lot of people write her as a straight-laced character – the sassy lady who makes the dwarfs fall in line (I did so, too), but this time I've decided to take a slightly different approach. After all, Fíli and Kíli had to get their playfulness from somewhere. Why not from their mother?
Please let me know what you thought of my portrayal of her. She might not be one of the Companions, but I think she deserves a space to shine, too.
Thorin's chapter will be posted on December 31, because it's long as hell (even by my standards) and I'll need plenty of time for editing. Thank you as always for all the feedback and support you give me – it gives me so much joy to work on this when I know that there are people who like the story.