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.

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 35

Bifur and Bofur walked from the camp-site to the smials, enjoying the early morning bird-calls and the rays of rising sunlight through the trees. Their boots glistened wetly as they brushed through dewy grass. Every so often, Bifur would bend to pluck a flower and swirl it between his fingers or nibble gently on it. He was humming absently as he walked, his head held high and his gait sure.

Bofur watched him from the corner of his eye. He had not seen his cousin walk this way since they were children. He walked as if he was proud of who he was, as if he was a valuable and important member of the community. Even in Ered Luin, amongst dwarves, Bifur had walked with a stoop, drooping his head despairingly as if to hide the ax he unwillingly carried.

Bofur imagined taking his cousin back to Ered Luin, where children stared and shied away at the sight of him, where mothers glared and dragged their children away from him, where women averted their eyes instead of striking up a conversation and asking him to look after their young. Bofur imagined the glow in Bifur's eyes dimming, his happy posture wilting, and his carefree humming going silent.

He knew it would cripple Bifur a second time to give this life in the Shire up. He just didn't know what he could do to change it.

Finally, they arrived at the smials for one last review of the premises. While unusual and far different from their angular, high-ceilinged and painstakingly-carved halls, the smials were finally finished, and they were oddly appealing despite their hobbity look. Bifur and Bofur let themselves in through the round doors and began to look around.

Some of the bedrooms had survived the mudslide and remained wood. The kitchen, dining and living and drawing rooms, pantries, washrooms, and additional bedrooms had all had to be cleared out and then rebuilt, this time with stone. They had enlarged them, building far deeper into the hills and shoring up every room and hallway in case of future slides. Each smial was now larger and deeper than even Bag End. And what's more, no flimsy hobbit walls were these. This was built with dwarven stone-know, and would last for centuries.

Some rooms were only big enough for one occupant, and some others had been converted into family suites. Also available were rooms set up like a barracks with a row of bunk-beds. Each smial had six of the family suites, twelve individual rooms and two barracks rooms. It was hoped that only two smials would be needed to house the coming caravans, and that they could expand into the third as necessary in the coming decades.

Bifur and Bofur tapped and struck all the walls and the supports, feeling for flaws and checking for quality. It took several hours to check every stone of every room of each smial, and as they checked, Bifur hummed and Bofur thought.

It was when they were walking up to Bag End to make the final report to Thorin and Lady Billa that Bofur finally had a thought.

Didn't I hear that Balin was giving the lady history lessons and Dwalin was giving the lass fighting lessons to pay for their stay there? Bifur only has the money that we were paid for this job, and I don't know how long that would last when paying rent. Perhaps Lady Billa would be willing to work something out? I don't know what, if anything, Bifur could teach that she would want to learn, and the language barrier... well... Never mind. Bofur's shoulders sagged and he went back to thinking.

Bifur never stopped humming, waving to hobbits passing by, (mostly children) and smiling. Several little fauntlings came up to hug his knees, and Bifur would sweep them up into a hug, whirl around with them, and they set them gently down, holding them til the world stopped spinning. They would grin at him, and he would pat their head and point to Bofur. The little fauntlings, guessing that he had to go, would scamper back to their mothers crying, "Goodbye Mister Bifur!" and waving at him, and Bifur would smile and wave back.

Finally, they reached Bag End and stood at the door to knock. Dwalin opened the door and stared at them for a moment with his vigilant, threat-assessing Captain of the Guard stare, and then glanced at their boots and turned away from the door, leaving it open.

Obediently, they stripped off their boots and closed the door, following him on socked feet. This was the first time they'd been inside Bag End, and Bofur stared discretely. There had been a line of boots outside the door, and inside was a line of cloaks and hoods on the wall. They passed a drawing room, filled with dainty furniture and sun-bright windows. They passed by the dining room, where Balin sat and two dwarflings chattered happily while sharing a meal with an under-grown elfling. An elf! Bofur thought distastefully. No, it would be impossible for Bifur to stay here indeed. He needs no scorn from a gangly, traitorous bow-shooter.

They passed into a hallway and then, several doors down, into a study. It was large and airy, with two desks and the windows thrown wide open, along with a shaft in the ceiling to gather the sunlight. One of the desks had documents in Khuzdul on it, but Thorin and Lady Billa were clustered around the other desk, and that is where Dwalin took them.

"Sit," Thorin commanded them lightly, and they sat in front of the desk. Lady Billa made to get up, but Thorin put a hand on her arm and nodded at Dwalin. Dwalin seemed to grit his teeth but went without hesitation, returning a moment later with a platter of sandwiches and a flagon of ale. Bofur was staggered. They'd just been served sandwiches... by the Captain of the Guard? And it looked as if it had been Lady Billa who was intending to serve them first. How bizarre.

Bifur, however, didn't seem at all confused, and took a sandwich and a mug with a happy noise, and tucked right in. Lady Billa beamed at him, while Thorin turned his attention to Bofur and began to inquire after the smials. Bofur made his report and declared the smials to be free of fault. Thorin nodded and would have dismissed them, but Lady Billa spoke.

"Mister Bifur," she said, and Bofur was again surprised how she addressed a crippled dwarf who could never speak to her and yet she didn't seem to hesitate at all. "Do you have that accounting I asked you for?" And Bofur grimly darkened in anger. Here it was, he thought, the trap that proved her false. She's going to charge us for camping on her land, or breaking some made-up law, and take back all the gold she's paid us. He readied, fists clenching but trying not to make a move. Thorin would take care of it, or he wasn't the king.

But, Thorin wasn't doing anything except gaze at her with a half-exasperated and half-fond smile on his face as Billa reviewed Bifur's page of numbers. Lady Billa reviewed it quickly, and then pulled out a drawer and withdrew four sacks of gold.

"Thank you Mister Bifur," she said as she handed them the gold and put the list in one of her files, "For making that list and allowing me to pay for it. I know it's not exactly done that way in Dwarven culture, but here in the Shire I would be very poorly thought of if my guests actually had to pay for their own food and supplies, or if I sent them away unprepared for the journey."

Bofur stared, nonplussed, at the two gold bags in his hands. Bifur had already pocketed his and, smiling, was working on his sixth sandwich. But, Bofur thought, the trap... If there was a trap, he couldn't see it. She had just paid for all of the supplies that Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur had spent all of yesterday at the markets acquiring. It had cost nearly half of the gold they had made from working on the smials to get all the tents, blankets, and rations they'd require, but everything they bought was of quality and would last for years, so they got it. There had been new clothing on that list as well, thicker and more serviceable for the coming winter months. It had pained Bofur to part with the gold, but it had been necessary.

And yet here she was, returning all of the gold that they had spent yesterday, and sending them away richer than before. If this is how things are done in the Shire, Bofur suddenly vowed, I will make sure Bifur has a home here for as long as he wants it.

So, when Lady Billa asked if there was anything else that needed to be settled, Bofur took a leap of faith.

"Lady Billa," he said, bowing his head in respect as he made his request, "I would like for my cousin Bifur to stay here in the Shire." Bifur stared at him, eyes wide with hurt. Bofur made to explain. "He has always loved children and yet, no matter where we went, children were frightened of him and their parents were too. Even in Ered Luin, among our people, Bifur was shunned and something of an outcast. He was miserable, and it hurt just to see it," Bofur said, partly to Lady Billa, partly to Thorin, and partly to Bifur.

"But, here in the Shire, he's accepted and admired and appreciated. I would be a poor kinsman if I thought to abandon my cousin, but I'd be a poorer kinsman still to drag him away from where he's found happiness. Please, Lady Billa, Thorin Oakenshield, is there any way he can stay?" Bofur asked. He was a little afraid. Thorin could take it as an insult that a dwarf would rather be in the Shire than with his own kind. Lady Billa might be disappointed that she had been about to get rid of them. Bifur might be feeling abandoned... he turned his head slightly to check.

Bifur was staring at him with wide eyes and...was that a smile? Bifur blinked suddenly, wiping a tear away and looking down as if to pretend it had never been there, but the smile remained and Bofur knew that the risk was worth it.

"Well," Lady Billa said, glancing between the three dwarves in her study, "As I see it, Mister Bifur has several options. He can stay in Bag End with me, and earn his keep by watching over the children, particularly the elf Lithir, and ensuring their safety and being their primary caregiver. That would last for a week or so, for the dwarflings, and perhaps longer, depending on whether Lithir decides to stay in the Shire." This option didn't seem to be gaining Thorin's approval, and Bofur didn't like it either.

"Or," she said, "He can be the supervisor at the smials. He would live there for half the rent and be paid a stipend to watch over the smials. He would be in charge of settling disputes, reporting to me and Mister Thorin about the goings on at the smial, collecting rent and making sure everyone is taken care of."

"Finally," she said thoughtfully, "He could stay in Bag End and make a craft to sell at market, and pay his rent out of his profit. It is up to you, Mister Bifur, which option you take so long as Thorin has no objection to any of these," Lady Billa said, turning to Thorin.

The king inclined his head to her with a quick sign at them. As you will, his fingers said.

"Excellent," she said smiling. "You may inform me of your decision any time in the next three days. If there's nothing else, gentlemen?" she asked politely. Thorin made a cough, and Dwalin appeared to show them out. Bofur marveled over that for a moment. The Captain of the Guard, playing the chamberlain? How odd.

As Dwalin closed the door behind them, they collected their boots and sat on the front porch to lace them on. Bofur waited, wondering if Bifur would be angry with him or have anything to say. He didn't say a word.

However, as they began the long walk down to the smials, Bifur didn't just hum. He sang, with a rich deep voice and a smile. And as the Khuzdul words flowed over Bofur and gained several admiring glances from passersby, Bofur couldn't help but grin with the peculiar joy that comes from witnessing good, honest people doing good, honest things, and start to sing, too. Though he was rusty, he tried his best to find the counterpart and, singing together, Bifur and Bofur walked happily away from Bag End.

It had been, Bofur thought, a very good day.