Ugh.

It'd been just over a month and Ovila was ready to tear her own hair out. Every day, Hobbits would tromp past in the smial in a hope of catching sight of the Dwarf currently living in Bag End and she'd had to put up with politely insulting conversation whenever she ventured out to buy groceries and the like. It was only the knowledge that they were virtually useless in a fight that kept her from wrapping her hands around their throats and throttling the life from them. One woman by the name of Lobelia especially grated on Ovila's nerves and she had no idea how she hadn't snapped yet, particularly when Lobelia insisted on attempting on stealing Bilbo's silverware whenever she rudely barged into the home, like now for instance.

Hazel eyes narrowed furiously on the small Hobbit woman and Ovila snatched yet another handful of silver cutlery from Lobelia. Lobelia sniffed haughtily, grumpily snatching up her tea, which Ovila had reluctantly made, and sipped delicately on the raspberry tea. It'd been something that Ovila had been craving over the past few weeks, which was odd because she generally preferred things stronger and a little bitterer, but she savoured the sweet tea. It tasted good on her tongue and settled her nauseous stomach. The nausea was down to worry and nerves, she was sure, and her hand settled over her stomach as she set the tea back down and her eyes didn't move from Lobelia, despite the other Hobbit women that were sat around the table after inviting themselves over. She rolled her stiff shoulders and clenched her fist on her knee to stop herself from grabbing her axe and slamming it through Bilbo's table. Somehow, she doubted he'd appreciate that.

"So, when is dear Bilbo due back? It's been over a month now," Lobelia smiled with all the sweetness of a venomous snake and Ovila didn't even bother to attempt to smile return. "We wouldn't want anything unfortunate to happen to him.

"Adventures tend to take a while, Lobelia, and Bilbo's with some of the strongest of my kind," Ovila replied, voice clipped and sharp. "I doubt anything unfortunate has befallen him just yet."

"Ah, yes, Dwarves," Lobelia said lightly. The delicate way she pronounced the word 'Dwarves' told Ovila everything and Ovila's hackles rose dangerously. "You are certain of their skill?"

"Of course, after all, Master Dwalin trained me, not to mention the heir of Erebor, Fili, and his brother, and my betrothed, Kili," Ovila retorted sharply and saw Lobelia's spine straighten and her eyes widen. "Thorin is to be our king and the others are strong warriors in their own right, so, let me assure you, Lobelia, Bilbo is perfectly safe with them."

(At that moment, unbeknownst to Ovila and Lobelia, Bilbo was recovering from almost being eaten by Trolls).

"Yes, let us hope so," Lobelia hummed, eyes sharp on the blonde Dwarf sat opposite her. "Your betrothed is brother to the heir of Erebor?" she asked innocently and Ovila just glowered grumpily and hoped the other female would get to the point quickly. "Does that mean you're royalty?"

Ovila couldn't help it – she burst into loud laughter and the others tittered with her nervously. "I'm a butcher's daughter," she snorted and her hazel eyes glittered with amusement at the stunned expressions around her.

"Oh!" a younger Hobbit girl gasped, eyes shining. She couldn't be more than a few years older than adulthood from her round cheeks and fresh face. She was a pretty thing with curling red hair and the brightest blue eyes that Ovila had ever seen. "How romantic!" she cried, hands clasped in front of her chest, and Ovila could feel nausea twisting in her stomach. "It sounds like a fairy tale, doesn't it, Mother?"

"Oh, Tansy, don't be silly," an older Hobbit with greying red curls smiled fondly and she shook her head at the other, chuckling women. "But, still, how did you meet this Kili, Ovila? If you don't mind," the woman said softly and every eye fell eagerly on Ovila. "Was it terribly romantic?"

"I bet it was!" Tansy gushed excitedly and leaned towards Ovila, whose stomach was still roiling uncomfortably. "What happened? How did you meet? Was it at his castle? Does he have a castle? Oh! If he's a prince, he must have a castle!"

"Uh, no, he doesn't have a castle," Ovila answered, taking another gulp of raspberry tea. "We met as children and things just progressed from there," she said vaguely and rubbed at her protesting stomach.

"How sweet," a woman named Poppy sighed. "Childhood sweethearts."

Ovila almost laughed at how grossly untrue that was, but she just forced on a tight smile that looked more like a grimace and gulped down the last of her tea. "Yeah, sure, let's go with that," she muttered.

"You say this Dwalin also trained you? You're a warrior?" Lobelia asked delicately and Ovila smiled just as sweetly back at the poisonous woman.

"Yes, I am, and an extremely proficient one," she retorted in a saccharine tone and pushed her blonde hair back from her face. "Is that a problem?" she smiled pleasantly and Lobelia wisely pressed her lips into a thin line and shook her head. "Good."

"You haven't finished telling us about you and Kili!" Tansy cut in impatiently and her mother Azalea shushed her with a chuckle. "Please, Lady Ovila."

"Whoa, I'm not a lady, nowhere close," Ovila protested, shaking her head. "Like I said, I'm just a butcher's daughter."

"But, when you and Kili get married, you'll be a princess, won't you?" Tansy asked, lips pursed thoughtfully, head tilted to the side, and Ovila paused at that.

She supposed that would happen. If Kili was a prince, then whoever he married would become a princess and Ovila wasn't a princess. Her hands felt like they'd been born with callouses and she was too used to fighting for herself and earning for herself to let herself be pampered, like the princesses in the stories. She was no damsel in distress. She wouldn't sit and wait for her prince to come and rescue her and, yet, it felt like she was doing just that. While she was having tea with four Hobbit women that had invited themselves over, Kili and Fili and their friends were out fighting for the home of their fathers and their fathers' fathers. It didn't feel right and it made her feel uncomfortable and twitchy. For all she knew, Kili could be dead in a ditch after being separated from the group and being attacked by a pack of Orcs.

"And your children will be princes and princesses!" Tansy gasped happily, clapping her hands. Her voice beginning to get grating and Ovila glowered at her, but she didn't seem to notice. "Won't that be exciting?"

"You are planning on having children, aren't you, dear?" Azalea asked with a smile and Ovila didn't know how to answer. She'd never thought about it, but her arms weren't made for children. She'd decided that when little Balili was born. "Children are wonderful," Azalea continued and gave a soft, happy smile. "How many will you and Kili have?"

"I – I don't know," Ovila managed to choke out and that nausea was back. "We've never spoken of children really."

"Oh! But you must have children! I'm sure they'll be beautiful!" Poppy laughed and patted Ovila's stomach, fingers lingering there. A frown touched the older woman's face briefly, before her smile came back brightly and she withdrew her hand. "Come now, let's get these empty plates cleared away and let you rest a bit, hm?" Poppy smiled and swiftly began to gather the plates and cake trays.

Before Ovila could think to stop the Hobbits, they were all, with the exception of Lobelia, helping with the plates and trays and cups. Ovila had to stop Lobelia from stealing the silverware again and she was glad that Lobelia left before she could be roped into helping with the clean-up. Tansy was still chattering about princes and castles and weddings and children and Ovila would have attempted to, at least, pay some attention out of politeness, but she was feeling oddly lightheaded. Her hands paused on the dish she was drying and her vision abruptly spun. She wobbled on her feet and she felt a hand on her elbow, before her knees gave out from beneath her and she lost consciousness.

Whatever Ovila was laid on, it was soft and warm and she never wanted to leave. She sighed softly, curling deeper into the fur blankets, dragging one up beneath her head, and felt a small smile touch her lips. Her eyes stayed closed, even when she heard someone moving about the room, and she let out a low moan of protest when light suddenly assaulted her closed eyelids. She scrunched her eyes shut tighter and wrenched the blankets over her head stubbornly, ignoring the voice practically singing for her to wake up. Nope. She was warm and comfy and happy and she would not wake up until she was ready to wake up, not even for that soft voice that was getting closer and closer.

One side of the blankets were lifted and Ovila whined against the action, cracking open an eye. Kili grinned back at her fearlessly and wriggled into the cocoon she'd created, heedless of her bleary glare. His socked feet pushed between her calves, earning another undignified whine, and his arms wrapped around her best they could with her big belly. A warm chuckle echoed in her ear as his loving, gentle hands stroked over her stomach and their child kicked happily at his attention. She sighed and her eyes finally opened to glare at him exasperatedly through the darkness of her cocoon. He could never just leave her be, even when she was carrying their child in her belly.

Peace and warmth and happiness rolled through Ovila, even if Kili was disrupting her precious sleep, and she sighed and pulled him as close as possible. His arms tightened around her round form and his forehead dropped down to hers and their breath mingled. Even though her eyes were closed, she knew he was smiling like a big fool, like he had been since she'd told him of her pregnancy, well, after he'd finished crying. He'd denied that he ever was crying of course, but everyone knew that he had and everyone was still teasing him about it. She chose not to for the moment, instead choosing to savour his warmth and hold onto him tightly for as long as she could. For some reason, she felt terrified that she was never going to see him again.

"You two aren't trying to make twins, are you?!" Fili's voice bellowed and Ovila yelped when Kili sat up and her wonderful blankets were ripped away from her.

"That's not how it works brother!" Kili shouted back and Ovila moaned and threw an arm over her eyes dramatically, especially when the door was thrown open. "Fili, we've talked about knocking," Kili admonished teasingly and Ovila stubbornly refused to lift her arm or rouse herself.

"It wasn't me," Fili laughed and another, smaller weight leaped onto the bed.

"Mama! Mama! Time to get up!" a little girl's voice giggled and Ovila shifted her arm slightly with the tiniest smile.

A tiny little girl beamed back at her with small, straight, pearly white teeth and big, glittering, hazel eyes that only spoke of joy and happiness. Her black hair had been teased into two braids that hung down over her chest, clasped with simple, silver clasps of the best make, and she wore a black and blue dress. She was beautiful and perfect and just the sight of her made Ovila smile and force herself to ease her awkward body into a sitting position. The little girl giggled, small hands reaching happily for Ovila's big stomach, and she squealed with delighted laughter at the feel of the baby kicking, which earned fond smiles from the three adults in the room.

"Kilin," Ovila laughed and kissed her daughter's chubby cheeks. "What is it, little love?"

"You have to get up, Mama, you have to get up and see Erebor with me!" Kilin beamed and Ovila blew a raspberry in response. "Mama!"

"I've seen Erebor," Ovila retorted like a petulant child, but her eyes glittered with sleepy humour and Kilin gaped at her mother, aghast. "Don't need see any more of it than this room," she decided and folded her arms on her belly.

"But – but – AH! Mama!" Kilin squealed as Ovila grabbed her and began to tickle her. "No! Stop! Papa! Uncle Fili! Make Mama stop!"

"You need to get her feet!" Kili declared and lunged for the kicking appendages. "But, she's right, 'Vila, you got to wake up."

Ovila stopped, frowning on confusion at her husband, because he was her husband, wasn't he? "What are you talking about, I am awake," she said slowly and Kili smiled sadly.

"Ovila, just wake up," Fili added from the doorway. "You can't stay here forever – you're a little early."

"First time for everything," Kili joked and Ovila stared at them, confused and slightly fearful.

Kilin raised up onto her knees, straining to be at the same height as her mother, and took Ovila's face in her tiny, tiny hands. "Mama, don't you want to meet me?" she whispered and Ovila's heart pounded against her ribcage. "Don't you want to have more of us?"

"Kilin…"

"Please, wake up."

So, she did.

Only Poppy remained when Ovila opened her eyes, still on Bilbo's kitchen floor, but with a blanket under her head and another draped over her. She just felt dizzy and lightheaded, a frown on her face, and Poppy shushed her and gently pressed her down when she tried to sit up. A cup of water was gently pressed against her lips, a careful hand tilting her head up so she could drink without choking, and the water helped her head a little. What helped more was the sugary bun that Poppy let her have once she was sat up and leaning against the kitchen table. Her stomach settled too, so much so that she gobbled down another two buns and felt immensely better afterwards.

When Ovila was sat in the living room, tucked up with blankets and a book, Poppy left and Ovila immediately began to pack with panic clutching at her chest. She couldn't stay in this house. She couldn't stay in this town. She couldn't stay alone. Her hands hovered over her things as her heart pounded furiously in her chest and her eyes filled with tears that blurred her vision. Oh, how had she been so careless? Her knees wobbled for the second time that day, but she managed to sink onto the bed and she knew that this shaky spell wasn't due to the condition she had, which she knew Poppy was aware of, just from the woman's expressions.

This wobbly was because of her emotions, which she shouldn't be letting consume her, but the tears began to leak down her cheeks and her whole body shuddered. Her hands clasped down over her stomach, curling into her green dress in tight fists, and a choked gasp escaped her. The gasp was followed by a strained sob that she couldn't stand leaving her mouth, because this wasn't who she was. She didn't sit around and weep and wail about the hardships in her life. When she was attacked by Wargs and almost died, she was up and about as soon as possible, no weeping and no wailing involved. The only exception was when Baltil died, but Kili, Fili, and Ori hauled her out of that rut quickly and the weeping was kept to a minimum.

For the moment, though, Ovila was alone and she didn't know how to be alone, especially not when something of this magnitude was upon her. She needed to get herself together and deal with the problem, so she stood, wiped her tears, and continued to pack. If her hands shook slightly, she paid them no mind and chose not to acknowledge them. Her eyes were dry (more or less) and that was more important than a mild tremble to her hands. There was no time for any more crying or any emotional break downs and that was that, so she had to get on with things and just cope until she found…found who? Where was she going to go? Home? Or after Kili and the others?

"Oh, what are we going to do?" Ovila whispered to her stomach.