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Lightly edited 3/25/2018

Chapter Two – Racial Differences

Bilba wasn't especially thrilled to learn that they would be riding ponies, a fact that Gandalf had practically giggled about when he'd seen the look on her face. "Keep laughing, old man," she growled, totally frustrated with him. "You are very aware that hobbits don't ride ponies!" If anything this only caused him to smile all the more. Except for Kili and Fili, most of the company was quiet as they geared up and saddled their ponies. She got the impression several were as disheartened by the idea of riding pony as she was. Or perhaps they just weren't morning people? Now that was a shame. She made sure to greet the sun every morning. It was one of the things she looked forward to.

"Hurry up and mount, Master Hobbit! We're heading out and won't wait for you."

Bilba jumped, realizing she had fallen into her contemplation, and lost track of time. Everyone else was already in their saddles. She blushed to the roots of her hair even as she frowned at Thorin. "This hobbit has a name and it is Bilbo. I would be increasingly glad if you could bother your royalness to learn it!" She chided as she jumped and managed to grab hold of the saddle horn. Wriggling, she managed to catch her foot in the stirrup and then toss her other leg over. When she finally straightened it was to find the others looking at her with amusement in their eyes. She huffed and turned her nose up. "Don't look at me like that. In case you didn't notice I'm a bit on the short side, even amongst our races." She snapped defensively.

Bifur signed something to Bofur which caused several of the dwarves to start laughing, and Bofur turned back to her with a grin. "Bifur says that you clearly need to learn its all about how you use your size, lad."

Bilba was stunned for a moment before remembering that she was portraying herself as a male. She had heard such references before, traded in teasing amongst her male cousins. Cheeks burning she replied, "I assure you – I know how to use my size just fine!"

It was to this teasing atmosphere that they finally got on the move and Bilba allowed her pony to hang towards the back, curious about the interactions of the rest of the group. Thorin kept his pony at the front of the pack with Balin and Dwalin alternating their places beside him. Directly behind him were Fili and Kili, who seemed content for the moment to doze on top of their ponies. The Ri and Ur families were mixed in together, giving her the impression that they knew each other quite well. Bofur was continually making comments to draw Ori from his quiet while Bifur signed to Dori who kept up with his own verbal montage.

She found it interesting that Nori, who Dori kept giving suspicious glares, was actually the quietest of them.

Bombur was talking with Oin and turning a discreet ear in their direction she found that the old healer was asking the company's chef to keep an eye out for certain medicinal plants while he foraged for their foods of the evenings. Gloin was silent, content to keep taking a locket from his pocket and looking at the contents within.

Bilba had just opened her mouth to ask what was in the locket when Nori broke his quiet. "Don't do it."

She blinked and focused her eyes on the star headed dwarf, wondering when he had dropped back beside her. "What?"

"You're about to ask Gloin what's in his locket. The answer is a picture of his wife and son. He will bore you to tears talking about them if you ask. For our sakes, don't do it."

She blinked again and clicked her mouth shut. Then, "How did you know?"

Nori turned his head towards her and she caught a glimpse of a devious smile that tugged and teased at forgotten memories of another and left her frowning at him in confusion. "Knowing is my trade." He answered simply before scooting his pony up alongside Ori, who didn't even appear to have noticed he was gone.

Knowing is my trade, Bilba repeated in her head. Now, what was that supposed to mean?

The morning passed nicely enough for Bilba. There was laughter and songs between many of the company and they gained several looks from the smials they passed. While none of the hobbit homes were particularly open to the outsiders, there were a few who dared to call a greeting Gandalf. However, as they were passing a particular smial, a group of no less than ten children ran past them, all diving and toppling on top of one another as they careened towards the wizard.

"Mr. Gandalf! Mr. Gandalf! Fireworks Mr. Gandalf! Fireworks!" And there was no mistaking the pleading note in their voices as they begged and pleaded.

Gandalf gave a low laugh even as he shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't have any this time little ones."

There was a resounding cry of disappointment and then a shriek from inside the burrow. "What have I told you kids about leaving that disturber of the peace alone?!" A sharp voice pierced the air and Bilba's eyes widened. She'd been so content in watching the mannerisms of her companions that she had failed to pay attention to just what part of the Shire they were in. She shifted uneasily on her pony and pulled her hat lower across her face. "What are you doing in this part of the Shire, Gandalf?" Lobelia demanded as she stepped out onto the path, her eyes traveling over the dwarves. "And with such a group of ruffians as well."

The dwarrows took exception to being called ruffians, except Dwalin, Nori, and Bifur, who all seemed to puff up and do their best to glower at the woman and look even more intimidating.

Gandalf, however, frowned at her. "One shouldn't judge those they do not know. You might just one day insult a king."

Lobelia scoffed. "If a king or prince associated with you – Valar bless their stupidity! Anyone attracted so such a nuisance should be cast down from their position!" She didn't seem aware of the way the entire company seemed to tense and bristle.

Bilba couldn't help herself. "And what of you, Lobelia Sackville-Baggins? You speak of stupidity and casting down – but have you not just insulted our own Thain?" Despite wanting nothing more than to continue on without interruption, without notice, she found herself sliding from her pony and storming up into Lobelia's face. "Our Thain who is friends with Gandalf, our Thain who openly welcomes the wizard to his home – are you questioning our Thain, Lobelia?" She lowered her voice. "I find myself in a very unique position, Lobelia. All I need do is tell the wizard to wait for me at Bree and I can stop in at the Great Smials. Perhaps have a word with Grandfather Took?"

Lobelia gulped and paled while the children and dwarrows all stared at the two of them. Lobelia's eyes darted from Bilba to the dwarrows to Gandalf and back again. Finally, her face settled for a too sweet smile. "Well then, I hope this adventure of yours is just as fortunate as the last time you left."

Bilba felt the blood drain from her face at the same time a rage lit inside her. "You know nothing of life outside this village, Lobelia." She snarled. "If you were so hateful to Marigold then it is no wonder -"

"Don't you dare speak her name!"

"I hope your children learn their manners from someone other than you, Lobelia. T'would be a pity for Hobbiton to be infested with so many vermin!" She stormed back to her pony and was very grateful when the princes gave her a lift up. Without looking at any of them she urged her pony on ahead.

It was due to this that she missed Gandalf turning back to Lobelia, his voice having such a chill that even the dwarrows shivered. "You should be very careful, Lobelia, of insulting those who hold the Valar's ears. You might find very unpleasant things start to happen." And it did not go unnoticed as he finished this statement that the grass in her yard seemed to wilt, the flowers around them drooped, and there was an unearthly racket as the door to the smial fell right off its hinge.

The dwarrows all stared at Gandalf and Fili and Kili shuffled their ponies closer together. "We're never pissing him off." They muttered in unison.

It was after they caught up to Bilba that Dori voiced a question. "Do all hobbit families have so many children?"

Bilba's tone was matter of fact, clearly showing she was still harassed by the other hobbit's words. "Hobbits generally have three to six children, but it's not terribly uncommon to have more. Lobelia has ten and there is a cousin who has twelve."

"Three to twelve," Gloin repeated, wonder in his voice.

"Is it not the same for dwarves?" She asked.

Several heads shook in the negative and she saw more than one sad look amongst her companions. "We are lucky to have one or two." It was Balin who finally answered. "Our men outnumber our women three to one, and so many of our women are barren that they choose to focus on their trade rather than take a husband and try for a child." He paused for a long moment. "Our numbers were already dwindling long before the dragon came, but the trauma of the escape was especially hard on our women. Even once we were settled in Ered Luin, it took so long to get us on our feet, for our numbers to not be starving..." He trailed off for a long moment. "It is one reason we hope to reclaim the mountain. A couple of our healers think that if we can get our people spread back out instead of all but living on top of each other, that our numbers may begin to come back up again."

"It does not help either that many of our dwarves who were just coming into their courting age were lost in the fight against Smaug, and then later in the halls of Khazad-dum." Dwalin continued.

"Has their not been another generation between now and then?" Bilba asked curiously.

Fili answered. "That would be my and Kili's peers. We are just entering the age to be courting. Bofur and Nori are about a decade ahead of us, and Ori will be old enough to court next year. It also does not help that it is so very hard to find your One."

Bilba blinked. "I'm sorry, but your one what?"

Fili actually pulled up short as he turned in his saddle to stare at her. "You don't have One's?" And his voice was so horror-stricken that it pulled a good portion of the rest of the company's attention as well.

"Perhaps you could explain to me what a One is?"

"A One Mr. Baggins is what we call our loves." Dori's voice filtered down the line. "They are the one who gives us peace in turmoil. Refuge from life."

"When they step into the room you stop breathing," Gloin continued where Dori's trailed off. "You could be in a room with a hundred fire breathers and not notice."

"One's are the other half of a dwarrow's soul," Bofur spoke now from her side. "They are the one perfect being that Mahal put here, just for us."

"Yes, the only problem is that knowing you have a One doesn't guarantee you will get to meet them," Nori's voice broke in. "They could be of a different race, or on an entirely different part of Middle Earth. While you can technically marry someone who isn't your One, you'll always know that the one meant for you is still out there. They say it eats at you."

"Have any of you met your One's then?" Bilba asked.

"Only Gloin and Bombur are married."And Bilba noted that didn't quite actually answer her question. She glanced curiously at Ori who had answered and followed his gaze to Dwalin. She fought hard to keep the surprise off her face, having no doubt Dori would never let the poor boy out of his sight if he knew that.

"No, I can honestly say hobbits have nothing like that." She hesitated to continue, then reminded herself that as far as the dwarrows were concerned this was not mixed company. "Hobbit lasses go through a sort of maturing process in their tweens... Their bodies basically demand a proper mate. Some hobbits are lucky enough to get to pick their mates, fall in love, others – the ones in higher society – are usually matched with someone of equal rank or someone who will make a good business alliance." Several of the dwarves were frowning at this. "Whoever a lass lays with for the first time, that is who she will marry."

She saw several of the dwarrows frowning. "Your women aren't allowed to go out among the men and well, find one that matched them?" Fili questioned slowly. "What if the one chosen for her isn't a match?"

Bilba shrugged slightly. "Like I said, we don't have Ones. But if you mean more generally, most hobbits believe that spouses don't really even have to like each other. So long as he provides for her and she does her wifely duties... what else matters?" Several of the dwarves muttered their discontent at this and she smirked suddenly, remembering a tale from her youth. "That is not to say that love does not exist with hobbits, and that hobbits have not found ways to be together. My grandparents, for instance, were so in love, swore they knew the moment they saw each other that they were in love, that my grandfather snuck into my grandmother's room the night before her betrothal party and claimed her." She grinned a little. "And this is why hobbit lasses are never left alone."

"What do you mean maturing process?" Ori asked curiously, backtracking slightly.

Bilba had no idea how to answer that and glanced over at Gandalf. He smirked at her and turned to Ori with a wink. Leaning in conspiratorially he mock-whispered, "Think dwarves on elven mead. Only a hobbit lass will continue to be, well... aroused until she goes through the bonding ceremony."

Ori's entire face went red and he choked and spluttered. Dori chastised Gandalf for saying such a thing to his innocent brother. Fili, however, was not done with his curiosity. "I've seen a couple of hobbits in men's towns, brokering deals and such. I've never seen a female though?"

Gandalf hesitated, glancing slightly toward Bilba. She gave no answer though, afraid to open her mouth for fear of what she might say by accident. Gandalf drew a long draw from his pipe before answering. "The change that female hobbits go through has a very peculiar effect on the race of Men, especially those of less than moral character. They become like a hound chasing a scent, and won't stop. If a young, unclaimed female were to be caught out... There has been more than one incident of them being stolen and then sold into brothels. The last was two hobbit lasses who were stolen together."

Every dwarf in the company froze on their ponies and then turned to stare at Gandalf with expressions of horror on their face. "Gandalf," Thorin half spluttered, "are you saying that they take those girls and – and rape them?" He demanded, horror and righteous indignation flaring in his eyes.

"Yes," and he could have left it at that only he seemed to steal himself before plowing on. "Even if a hobbit lass were to say no if she were taken during the time that her body was demanding she find a mate, her body would take pleasure from the act of mating... so even though mentally she doesn't want it, her body is demanding more... Survivors are often as scarred mentally as they are physically." The group fell silent, digesting this information.

It was Bifur who broke the silence looking at the hobbit as he spoke angrily. She looked to Gandalf for a translation, but he was already answering the dwarf. "No, Bifur. Hobbits are a gentle people. They don't know how to treat the wounds of such an attack. A survivor would be expected to... well to move on with life."

"Now see here," Oin's voice cut in, "Are you saying Mister Gandalf, that they expect the girls to just go on as though it never happened?"

"Yes," Bilba answered instead, her voice pitched low. She didn't raise her eyes from her pony's mane. "If a girl were to make it back to Hobbiton after such an event, she would be treated to a hot bath, scrubbed clean, and then sent back to her home. Her family would set about finding her a match quickly, and then they would send her off to her bridal bed. No one would talk about it, not to her at least, but everyone would know."

Oin wouldn't let it go, his healer's knowledge warring with what was apparently a very backward culture. "And what if the lass wasn't able to simply go on about her life?" He demanded.

Bilba hesitated. "Female hobbits have one job and one job only – the further continuance of the hobbit population. If a hobbitess were unable to do this, she would be ostracized."

"And you're okay with this? That your females are treated as though they have no brain in their head to process the pain they've just been through?" Thorin demanded.

Bilba finally looked up, meeting his glare with one of her own, her eyes iced over. "Don't you dare put words in my mouth Thorin Oakenshield. I never said that. It's just the way it is. The elders are foolish in their belief that life simply goes on."

Gandalf gently cleared his throat. "Careful, Bilbo. One of those elders is your grandfather after all."

"Yes well, that didn't stop him from marrying off Marigold so soon after she came back, did it? Straight to her marriage bed in tears and tatters!" Wet shining eyes the color of lavender flashed before her eyes. "If he had waited, if he had listened to you, to me, to mum or da – but no the deal was already struck so he couldn't wait, could he? And now poor Mari can't even come back to Hobbiton. For what, Gandalf? The pride of a family." She spat angrily.

The dwarrows shifted uncomfortably as Bilba railed at the wizard until she seemed to run out of breath. By the time that Bilba was calm enough to acknowledge her lack of composure in front of the company the shadows had grown long and Thorin was calling a halt to the day's journey. Dwarves and wizard alike gratefully slipped from their saddles but Bilba shifted her weight back and forth, unwilling to call for help to get down.

Eventually, she managed to slide her short legs free of the stirrups and slide off to the left side. Without her foot in the stirrup though there was nothing to help her down and she dropped unceremoniously to the ground. She thought for a moment that her legs would hold her and then they turned to limp noodles, refusing her weight and dropping her on her backside. The dwarves, apparently not entirely unaware of her, snickered and guffawed amongst themselves.

A hand appeared in front of her face, and still frowning, she allowed Gloin to pull her to her feet. She stood stiffly for a long moment, waiting to make sure her legs would accept her own weight this time. "First time ridin'?"

"The first time since I was a tween in any case."

Gloin winced in sympathy. "You'll want to ask Oin for some of his ointment then. You don't want saddle sores."

"I'll do that as soon as I see to my pony." She promised, having the saddle half off already. After she was finished however she realized that Bombur was still collecting herbs for their supper while Fili and Kili were off hunting. She hobbled her way over to help him, grabbing extra firewood as she went. By the time they had brought the fire up to a nice heat and the pot was just beginning to boil, Fii and Kili returned with skinned rabbits.

She took comfort in the fact that she was not the only one limping and wincing as she shifted on her log, trying to find a comfortable way to sit. It was nice though, she supposed, to be sitting around a fire with a group of, perhaps not friends, but acquaintances who weren't glaring at her. If the dwarves weren't all that inclined to involve her in the discussions that was fine. She couldn't really blame them after the discussion earlier in the day.

"Excuse me, Mr. Bilbo?" As though to directly conflict with her thoughts, she heard Bofur's brogue speak from somewhere close by. Looking up she found both Bifur and Bofur standing in front of her and she leaned back to be able to peer up at them. "Bif' noticed that yer hats got some symbols 'round the edges, and we was wonderin' what they mean." He explained.

She noticed Ori looking their way curiously, the ever-present scroll already on his lap, quill poised as he waited for an answer. She snorted a little as she took it off and twirled the hat around her fingers for a moment. "Hobbits have this queer little need to quantify their lives. Most are family symbols. Sometimes a trade. An important occasion. Hobbits in higher society use it for one-upmanship codswallop. A bunch of my daddy was this and my great-grandfather was that." She began to point out different signs. "These are the symbols for my mother and father – Belladonna and Bungo. The staff above my mother's name shows a daughter of the Thain. The ivy leaves mean that she was favored. The primrose next to my father means that the Baggins' family is one of the first families in the Shire."

Bofur stopped her. "Favored daughter? Did he have favorites among his kids?"

Gandalf snorted into his beard. "Belladonna could have ridden naked through all of Hobbiton and her father wouldn't have batted an eye. Why I remember a time when -"

"Very possibly," Bilba cut across Gandalf, having no doubt a story of her mother's youth was forthcoming. "In this instance, though, favored referred to the fact that my mother was a possibility for Thain."

"I heard that word several times today, Mr. Baggins. What does it mean?" Balin queried from where he was peering over Ori's shoulder at a furiously moving quill.

Bilba hesitated, cocking her head to the side as she looked to Gandalf, trying to think of the best way to explain. "The thain is the Shire's shepherd I suppose. Business decisions are brought to him. Negotiations amongst other towns and such. Marriage proposals. Disputes among neighbors. The thain is the one who has everyone's best interests in mind."

"And this thain would be your grandfather? The same one who earlier you claimed to be foolish after defending him to that harpy?" Thorin asked.

She was quiet for a moment. "Make no mistake. When it comes to his people my grandfather will do anything to see that hobbits continue to prosper, even if he has to step over his family to do it."

"A thain sounds like another name for a king. Wouldn't that make you something of a prince?" Kili noted and they were all looking at her curiously now, sizing her up.

She scowled at them and picked her hat back up, wondering when she had dropped it. She pointed to a symbol in crimson red. "See this symbol? It means the thain, in his infinite wisdom, decided to start grooming me for his position." She waited five seconds. "My grandmother dyed it bright red the night I refused. So you can take any thoughts of me being a prince and politely shove them."

Bifur took the hat from her hands and spun it slowly, tracing his fingers over the symbols lightly. "Ya don't seem to have much regard for high society," Bofur noted.

Bilba stared for a long moment into the fire, her mind caught in the past before she turned to the cousins. "What does it matter what blood someone has? Being related to the thain doesn't make me a bad or good person just as being Thorin's nephews doesn't make Fili and Kili good or bad. The fact that they are who they are is what makes them good."

It was later, after all the company had fallen asleep, that Bifur approached the wizard. Gandalf looked up from where he was watching their camp and cocked an eyebrow in question. "What the she-devil said to Bilbo about leaving, what did it mean?"

Gandalf hesitated. "Bilbo was with a group of hobbits shopping when his cousin Marigold was taken. He blames himself for not being able to stop the Men from taking her."

"How old?"

"Twenty-two."

Bifur's eyebrows shot up and he glanced over towards the hobbit. To have been so young... His heart ached.