Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, or any associated characters or concepts. Quotes in this chapter taken directly from The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien.
I've heard that in several Oriental countries, when someone hands you something, you can tell how important it is by how they hold it and convey how important it is to you by how you hold it. If you take it with two hands, you are treating it carefully. If you take it in one hand, you are treating it rather carelessly.
Summary: On the way to the Undying Lands, Billa is eaten by a time-traveling sea monster. The elves on board attack the monster in retaliation, and it escapes by swimming into the past: several decades into the past. Billa wakes up in a sweat, gasping and frightened, only to realize that she is back in her thirty-three-year old body. What on earth is she going to do?
Chapter 21
Billa endured exaggerated bows and good-natured teasing from Fili and Kili throughout the day, but when the hour for afternoon tea drew near, she convinced Dwalin to take the lads, Oin, and the two guards out behind her house to spar. She had to bribe him with the promise of two cranberry pies, but it was a sacrifice worth making. Her uncle would be busy enough with two dwarves, she didn't need to overwhelm him with eight of them.
Dis and Thorin watched, not bothering to hide their amusement, as she bustled around the drawing room and the kitchen, making sure everything was spotlessly clean, making refreshments, and setting out several types of tea. She wasn't sure if he would come alone or not, so she made sure there was plenty of food.
Then she set up what had previously been her best set of pans on a table in the drawing room, as well as her now-oldest and most worn. The difference between the two sets was noticeable, but the difference in quality between these sets and her new dwarf-forged pans would be almost glaringly obvious. She put the new pans on the table as well, draping a cloth over them. Belladonna Took had had a flair for the dramatic, as was fairly common in the Took line and Billa figured a few dramatics might work in their favor. Finally, at a quarter to three, she stopped her fussing. She turned to the mirror in the entry way, brushed through her hair with her fingers, and then went to sit in the drawing room with Dis and Thorin.
"I'd like to tell him who you are," she informed them abruptly. Thorin nodded cautiously. "It should help. Please be nice," she said fervently. Thorin smirked at her. She was so nervous. Her fingers felt like they were shaking, even though when she looked at them they seemed perfectly still.
Finally, the doorbell rang. Billa jumped to her feet, smoothed down her dress and went to open the door. Please, she thought, Please please please let this go smoothly.
When Isumbras Took IV arrived at Bag End, he took a moment to stare suspiciously at the two pairs of boots on the front porch. How on earth had it come to this? Billa's first letter had arrived out of the blue after years of reliably Bagginsish behavior. He had gaped at it for a moment, before glancing at his sister's picture on the mantelpiece in his office and bursting into laughter.
"Oh, Belladonna," he had said fondly. "It turns out your little Billa does have a drop or two of Took blood, after all." He had laughed to himself for several minutes before filing the letter away. He'd look after her smial while she had her fun. No harm done after all. When the second letter arrived two weeks after the first, he had been boggled. A tour of the country was one thing, but dwarves? In Bree? And then to actually bring them home with her! Either she had a great deal more Took blood than he had guessed, or she had been bamboozled and was even now being taken advantage of. He had resolved immediately to make sure nothing untoward was occurring at Bag End. Hobbits were slow to wrath, after all, but for the sake of the daughter of his favorite sister, he was prepared to be fierce.
As Billa answered the door, he noticed the pink in her cheeks and the smile on her face. She fussed over him, taking his cloak and directing him to the drawing room while she hung it up.
Two dwarves stood from their seats when he walked in, a rare show of courtesy. They were both tall, with pale skin, blue eyes, and long dark hair and beards. Obviously brothers, he thought. Where is the sister Billa had mentioned in her letter? Then Billa was there, making introductions.
"Dear Uncle Isumbras," she said. Isumbras noted from the endearment that she was quite vested in making sure this conversation went smoothly. "May I introduce the King In Exile of Erebor, Thorin Oakenshield, and his sister, the Lady Dis," she said. One dwarf after the other bowed. So, Isumbras thought dumbly, Lady Dwarves have beards too. And they're royalty. Oh dear.
"Mister Thorin, Lady Dis," Billa continued, "May I introduce my Uncle, Isumbras Took the Fourth, and Thain of the Shire. Uncle," she said, perhaps trying to break the tension in the room, "Apparently dwarves consider the Thainship to be as near to Kingship as makes no difference. They tried to convince me to let them call me Princess Billa when I was making breakfast this morning! Anyway, Uncle, I'm so very glad you're here. Thank you for looking out for my smial in my absence, I do appreciate it so. Mister Thorin and his party will be staying with me for a few days, during which time I would like to make sure he has access to a forge. He's done such a wonderful job with your great grand-father's courting pans. They were very nearly falling apart, even worse than these," she said as she handed him an older, battered pan from the nearby table. Several pans were featured there, two sets as well as a third hidden under a blanket.
"And," she said, handing him a pan from the other set, "These used to be my finest pans, a gift from father to mother." The pan she had handed him was very fine indeed, one of the finest that had ever been commissioned in the Shire. Poor old Bungo did love to shower Belladonna with gifts, Isumbras remembered fondly.
"Now, Uncle," she said, excitement and nerves in her voice, "These are the pans that Great Great Grandfather gave to Great Great Grandmother, the ones that Mister Thorin re-forged for me a few days ago in Bree." She whipped away the covering with a flourish of silk, and the light from the window struck them just so. They glowed, and Billa gently lifted one from the table and, holding it with both hands, pressed it into Isumbras's two hands. He gaped at it, turning it this way and that. The workmanship far surpassed anything that had ever been forged in the Shire or made by the hands of men. It was beautiful! It was flawless. The engravings along the edge were exactly as he remembered them, and there on the bottom was Great Grandfather's forging mark, now accompanied with a tiny new mark that must be from this blacksmithing king.
Taking advantage of his stupefaction, Billa continued. "Dearest Uncle Isumbras, I have other things I want Mister Thorin to make for me, but we need access to a forge. Can you arrange for such a thing to happen?" Isumbras blinked a few times, coming back to himself.
"Certainly," he said hoarsely. "I shall arrange it personally, on my way back from here today. Er, Mister Thorin," he said abruptly, turning to face the dwarf in question. "Am I correct in thinking that you are also able to forge weapons?" Isumbras asked. As the Thain, he was responsible for defense of the Shire, and the weapons stores in the Great Smials of Tookland were something of an embarrassment.
Thorin nodded gravely. "I am," he intoned, his voice far deeper than any Isumbras had ever heard.
"It would please me greatly if you were to stay for a few weeks, and forge 3 dozen or more hobbit-sized swords and shields. I am responsible for the defense of the Shire. It has been several years since such weapons were needed, and when we needed them, they broke easily against the swords and teeth of our foes. Many hobbits lost their lives, including some of those very dear to me. It is my responsibility to ensure we have them, the best we can get, if ever we should need them again."
Thorin hesitated. Isumbras pressed harder.
"I am willing to pay in gold, or in food, or any manner of supplies you need, Mister Thorin, and you and your dwarves would forevermore be welcome to do business or take your rest within the borders of the Shire," Isumbras tempted him.
Still Thorin hesitated. Billa interjected quickly.
"Mister Thorin, the next item I was going to commission from you was actually going to be a sword to use for my personal defense," she said.
"The Shire is usually safe," she explained, "but a few years ago, during the Fell Winter of 2911, the Brandywine river froze solid, and wolves and goblins invaded the Shire. We had no proper weapons but the old things stored in the Tookland's Great Smials, and many of them were rusted through. My-" Billa's voice choked, and she took a deep breath before continuing.
"My parents died in that onslaught," she sniffled, groping for her handkerchief and quickly drying her nose, "and I have never forgotten the helplessness that gripped me as I w-watched my mother f-f-fall, d-defending my father's b-body with nothing but a fr-frying pan in her hand!" she said, her voice hitching as she mopped tears from her eyes.
Isumbras put a gentle hand on her shoulder and quickly handed her his own handkerchief, his eyes wet as he remembered the loss of his sister. The dwarves' attention was riveted on Billa, and for several moments the house was silent save for the sound of Billa's quiet sniffles. Finally, she put the handkerchief down, the wave of grief passing as quickly as it had come.
"Forgive me," Billa said, wringing the handkerchiefs in her hands as she gathered her composure.
"You needn't stay until they are all completed," Billa said, clearing her throat quickly and blinking the last of the tears from her eyes. "You are a busy man with a great nation to look after, and I wouldn't dream of insisting you stay until the job is done. Even if you could only forge a few weapons at a time when you pass through on your trading journeys, it would be a great help to Uncle, to me, and to the Shire."
Thorin's attention switched from Billa to Isumbras, whom he eyed carefully. "And the dwarves under my command would be free to set up trade in the Shire, and do business with your people?"
"Yes," Isumbras nodded and, finally, Thorin was convinced.
Isumbras was then struck with a brilliant notion. "I'm sure Billa here would be more than happy to handle any official arrangements between our peoples that need to be made. In fact, my dear," he said to her, "I'm appointing you to be the official liaison between the Shire and the dwarves under Mister Thorin's reign." When she started to protest, he cut her off quickly. "If it's such a trouble my dear, I can certainly arrange for a paid salary," he teased. Her face flushed, but she gave in.
"Very well," Isumbras said, satisfied. "This has been a most illuminating meeting, my dear," he said to her, "and the refreshments have been particularly delicious. I've been very pleased to meet you, Mister Thorin, King in Exile, and you, Lady Dis. I wish you all the luck in the world, and look forward to the fruits of this meeting. Alas, the hour is advancing and it is time to take my leave."
Everyone stood as he did. He exchanged bows with the King-In-Exile and his sister, and then Billa politely walked him outside to the front gate.
He kissed Billa gently on the forehead. "You're a good girl, my dear, and your mother would be very proud of you. I have no doubt that great things will come from the understanding between peoples this day, Billa, and it will be all thanks to you," he told her solemnly. She smiled and hugged him, tears in her eyes.
"Thank you, Uncle Isumbras," she said into his shoulder. "Thank you so much." Then he was crossing the gate and she was waving goodbye.
Yes, Belladonna, he mused. There's a good deal more Took blood in her than either of us ever hoped for. If Fortinbras turns out to be a disappointment, he decided, that girl shall be Thain when I am gone.
Resolutely satisfied with all of the decisions he had made that day, Isumbras turned his attention to the music of the birds and the swaying of the grass as he began the long, beautiful walk home.
