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The troll incident seemed to loosen the company's tongues, and once they left Rivendell, Bilba found her quiet hours of embroidery disturbed by long conversations near the fire. Bofur and Nori seemed to make it their personal mission to walk on either side of her as they traveled, and Gloin commented more than once on her workings of gold and silver thread.
"With a skill like that, you could find yourself a fine wire smith to wed," the red bearded dwarf said matter of factly.
"No, she wants a jeweler, what with all the uncut gems in her hall!" Bofur grinned, nudging the blushing hobbit at his side. "She's even rich enough to pay a dowry for a master crafter, if the family raised a fuss."
"Oh quiet you," she grumbled, waiving a needle threateningly at him.
"I'm just saying!" Bofur laughed.
Gloin rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you would know, being one yourself."
The dark haired dwarf waived his friend off. "I am a master of many things, but nothing so fine as the settings I've seen this one pull together," here he punched Nori in the shoulder.
Nori, who had just sat down, looked from Bilba's red face to his friend's obnoxious grin. His eyebrow raised. "What did you do to the hobbit?"
The others laughed, and Bilba wondered if she could use this distraction to escape into the woods, away from these meddlesome dwarves. She had enough speculations about her potential suitors from her relatives, thank you very much.
"What are we talking about?" The sound attracted to the fireside Ori and Kili, who had Fili not a step behind. She wanted to burry her face in her embroidery.
Gloin motioned them to a seat. "We were just discussing which skills Miss Baggins would prefer in her potential suitors."
"No, you were," she muttered, but no one heard her.
Kili looked thoughtful. "Hm, I think a smith." The others booed his words. He flushed and scrambled to defend himself. "Some of those gems in her house would make great hilt settings, and besides no one in her homeland seems to wear jewelry much, so everything would have to be sold abroad anyway!"
Fili rolled his eyes and shoved his brother to a seat. "Sit down lover-boy before you hurt yourself."
"I wasn't talking about me!" he whined, face almost as red as Bilba's. His eye strayed to the edge of camp where a brooding figure stood alone.
"I've got a cousin who makes the most excellent kitchen-ware for Dori," Ori added his two cents. "Would Miss Baggins prefer someone like that?"
The dwarves were about to break into another round of debating, when Bilba felt she should kill the topic before it got a second wind.
"While I am sure none of you have anything better to do than contemplate my love life, you should know that it is none of your business."
A shamed silence pricked the edges of the circle, before Kili gave her a light one armed hug. "We didn't mean anything by it Bilba."
She huffed and lightly shoved him away.
By the time they reached the Misty Mountains, Thorin was the only dwarf she had yet to hold any sort of conversation with. The hobbit often found herself absently watching him at the edge of the fire, only to look away when she became aware of her actions. He never seemed to notice, or if he did, had the decency not to take offense.
Then came Goblin Town and the awful creature Gollum, then more Mahal forsaken running for their lives, till they were trapped in a tree. A tall uncomfortable pine tree, which was also on fire.
Dwarfs were built with skin impervious enough to handle cherry hot bars of steel the way others might a twig. The stone and flame coursing through their veins from the days when they were first pulled from the earth could only be truly burnt by dragon's breath. Bilba had inherited much from her grandmother, but dwarven constitution was not among them.
Looking back, Bilba could not tell you why she charged the white orc. Perhaps it was to get out of the flaming tree. Perhaps some dormant matriarchal instinct resented the death of her men, unless she was the one dishing out such a fate. Perhaps it was something else entirely.
What did it matter anyway, they were all relatively alive and resting in relative safety at the skin changer Beorn's house. The hobbit was even prepared to humor the giant man's constant pinching of her cheeks and calling her 'Bunny' as he carried her on his shoulders, if it meant a hot cup of tea.
Then Thorin called her to his side.
"I once said that you had no place on this journey," he was too injured to move from his regal nest of blankets by the fire (club to the ribs will do that, even when your bones are made of granite), but he held her hands tightly in his own. "I have never been so wrong."
She couldn't tare herself from his piercing blue gaze. Her lungs appeared to have stopped working as well.
He inclined his head formally. "Would you accept my gratitude?"
"Yes," she said, firmly, refusing any breathlessness to purveyed her voice.
The dwarf king smiled, and Bilba suddenly realized where Kili had inherited all his charm. His fingers began to twist a braid into her hair, in what Bilba felt was a very forward action on his part. Amadel never said it aloud, but touching another's hair was quite scandalous. He fastened the end with a grey stone bead, before giving her another nod, this time of dismissal.
Dazed, the hobbit returned to the hearth where the company rested, wondering what all that was about.
Across from her, Dwalin sharpened his ax with the serene care of a warrior's chore. That weapon has probably seen more battles than Bilba had cousins. Most of the fights had probably been in the service of the line of Durin.
She noticed a dark bead glinting in his beard; a bead shaped exactly like her own new possession. She fingered the braid in her hair, lining up the pattern with that she saw on the dwarf. Courage... loyalty...honor...
Dwalin's eyes flicked to hers, and she flushed. He smirked gruffly, and nodded to her in a more companionable manner than he ever had before.
Bilba was starting to get an idea what the braid meant. The Thain often gave out medals to brave bounders which received similar looks of admiration she was getting. She let out a sigh, but whether it was one of relief or disappointment, she was not entirely sure.
A life or death situation was not a smart time to engage in romantic pursuits, and journey to slay a dragon and reclaim a lost kingdom most likely constituted as one of those.
If she ignored her infatuation, it would leave. That method worked the last time she was faced with a competent authority figure who earned her respect and subsequent affection. Bilba had a weak spot for leaders, be they the captain of the shire's bounders, or a king.
Still, as the days dragged on in the comfort of Beorn's home, the hobbit found herself seeking other outlets for her emotion. The patch of flowers where the bees wondered was too inviting not to lace into her hair.
Three anemone hung in the heavy braids behind her ears, and an acacia twined around the braid Thorin had given her. A forget-me-not tucked close next to her mourning braid.
Bilba thought she had been clever to use the hobbit's preferred methods of proclaiming affection. That was, until she was approached by Nori.
"So, who are you pining for, lass?"
"Why, whatever makes you say that!" she squeaked, consciously trying to keep her hands from ripping the flowers from her hair.
The dwarf looked at her flatly. "I may just be the some muscle in the company, but I'm a jeweler by trade. I've been commissioned enough trinkets to know what the plants I'm shaping mean."
"Of course," she grumbled, pressing the heel of her palm into her eyes. He laughed.
Luckily he decided not to bring the subject up again at Beorn's house, though she swore she saw coins passing from hand to hand among the company. The hobbit would have questioned them on their behavior, but Mirkwood was not a place which invited discussions on gambling.
Any thoughts not pertaining to her immediate survival were driven from her mind when the company was, surprise surprise, running for their lives. Bilba was tempted to set fire to those cursed spider's webs for ruining her hair and cloths, but her vengeance had to be put on hold while she, once again, saved her company's collective behinds. Then came all the sneaking around the Woodland Realm to figure out how to free them from their cells.
She really should be getting paid extra for going beyond the duty of her contract. Perhaps Bilba should approach Balin with the idea later. It was amazing what productive thoughts a girl could ponder while hiding in a wine cellar.
A brace of empty barrels dropped into the river below. The hobbit smirked; productive ideas indeed.
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squarepancake
Yes, I'm implying that Kayli might have been related in some way to Kili/Fili's father. He was the family her son who vanished tried to find.
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