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.
Someone mentioned that Thorin is out of character and super fluffy in this chapter. Hullo, he's falling in love. Have you heard of twitter-pation, or infatuation? Think Bambi in the spring. When you're infatuated, you are completely focused on one person, and they seem to be absolutely perfect. Every character trait they exhibit is perfectly made to match yours. Everything they do is well done, and in perfect taste. Any fault you see is easily made endearing or explained away under extenuating circumstances. You reminisce for hours about them, and every thought makes you smile.
On the outside, the only change is that Thorin is more smiley and generally less acerbic. Since this is his point of view, you get to find out what he thinks. Because this is after a victorious battle, he's a little more relaxed. Because of Billa, he doesn't have to worry about starvation or freezing to death this winter. He's not worrying about assassination or survival. His life is really looking up, and all he's doing is focusing on his feelings for Billa (who made this possible), and how wonderful she makes him feel. He is literally high on endorphins, right now. Don't believe me? Fall in love and then let's talk. It makes you crazy.
Flustration: According to Miriam Webster's, it is the state of being flustered.
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 33
Thorin woke the next morning to a sweet scent and something tickling his nose. He breathed deeply to identify the scent. Ah, that's right, he thought. Billa's here. He squeezed his arms lightly and indeed, there she was. Thorin smiled. I am becoming more and more certain, he thought, that this is how I want to wake up for the rest of my life.
She was perfect, really. For all that she was a hobbit, she could not be a more perfect dwarrow queen if she tried. She was fierce, dangerous, clever, ruthless, brave, and so loyal. Yet, her hobbit-ness only added to her perfection where some dwarrow might think it a detraction. She was kind, gentle, compassionate, protective, and cunning. Nothing could compare to the flush of adoration that Thorin felt when she used those traits on his behalf, or on the behalf of his people. Seeing the bead of Durin flashing in her hair while she sparred, or how it lay authoritatively on her breast as she issued commands or courted good opinion in her pretty little drawing room.
Thorin knew he was falling in love with her, and that if it went on much longer, he wouldn't be able to turn back. If it was just for himself, he would not hold back at all, but he had Dis and Fili and Kili to consider. How would Billa and future heirs affect them? Would his council be able to accept her? He would have to leave her this winter, and spent the cold months considering it.
Until then, he contented himself by imagining other braids in her hair, courting braids and claiming braids. Her curls would slip through his fingers, tangling around his touch and holding onto his fingers. They smell so sweet, he thought, breathing in deeply.
He remembered the ride as they hunted the slavers. Most people either chattered nervously or rode in grim silence. Billa had been calm and logical as she approached him, only talking as much as was necessary. Even in such a dire circumstance, her first concern was his comfort and that of his warriors. She'd come admirably prepared despite the short notice, and he appreciated that she didn't try to fill the silence with small talk like some others might have.
Then, she'd ridden up with a skinned rabbit in her lap, offering him obeisance. Whether it was due to his position or her personal preference, it always pleased him when she put him first, above all others. He'd been so pleased with her deference and her obvious effort to learn the ways of his people that he'd offered her his share. She had blushed gratefully, and sweetly refused him. Then she'd offered him his portion with no hesitation at all. She was a little slow, but that was to be expected for someone who was fairly new to this. Her motions were confident and steady, obviously practiced, and he knew she'd only improve with time.
Finally, despite all his doubts to the contrary, she had actually swallowed down a liver, chewing delicately and then daintily washing her hands and mouth. Thorin just watched, enjoying the juxtaposition of her iron-hard stomach and her gentle manners. Wasn't his hobbit absolutely unique?
Then, he had put her to the test as a scout. But oh! The way she had blushed when he'd whispered in her ear. He'd never seen a blush so vibrant or so widespread. Her ears, her cheeks, even her neck and her chest were blushing red and she'd gazed at him, wide-eyed and breathless, gasping slightly. She'd been almost speechless, and her explanation was as adorable as it was garbled. Apparently, hobbit ears were sensitive. Really sensitive.
Still, despite her flustration, she'd done an admirable job scouting forward. Bifur signed that she hadn't made a single sound on the entire journey, her feet as silent as she had promised him. She'd been able to scout the enemy camp multiple times and get detailed information without being seen or heard, and Thorin was impressed. Once again, his hobbit had proved her worth.
Her ruthlessness in regards to the slavers had been unexpected, but appealing. She had been just as fierce in defense of Kili in Bree, he remembered fondly. And then, her concern for his wellbeing had been utterly adorable. Her eyes blazing, her voice a quiet hiss, she had threatened him with poor hospitality - of all things!- if he dared to get injured. She'd shoved him with all of her meager strength, glaring fiercely at him. Like a tiny, menacing kitten, she'd warned him to come back, or else. This more than anything reassured Thorin that his feelings were returned, and he savored that assurance as it glowed warmly in his chest.
The battle had been fun, a much-needed release for his dwarves and it had been going well. Thorin had been content to stretch it out, avoiding killing moves and simply enjoying the exertion and the adrenaline. Then, one of his younger warriors had been cornered by three Men and, with a knife to his throat, they were ordered to surrender.
Before the embarrassing situation could get out of hand, Billa was there, seizing the opportunity to take them down from behind. Again, in defense of his people, not her own. He'd watched her with one eye while she fought another, seeing how she grew in confidence and even began to smile before bringing the slaver down. Yes, his hobbit had a large measure of dwarven ferocity, and he was grateful for it.
She'd left a brutal message as well for any slavers who might come looking, and after leaving the menacing display, she had immediately focused on tending to the injured.
Then, she'd come to him and her shrewd mind had advised him on a strategy to improve their standing in the Shire. He loved how that was something always on her mind, ensuring that he and his people would always be made welcome. He sighed happily.
After a long ride and a short night, here she was in his arms, warm, sweet-smelling, and content. Thorin sighed again. He was infatuated, he knew, and if he wasn't so happy, it would be embarrassing. As it was, he was very happy, and the feeling was so foreign that he couldn't help but bask in it. He nuzzled her hair gently, trying not to wake her.
He'd leave for the winter, and see if the attraction and alliance lasted across the distance. For now, he'd enjoy the sensation of holding her, and imagine that they could stay like this forever.
