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 Baggins is eaten by a time-traveling sea monster. She wakes up in her 33-year-old body and realizes she has a chance to change everything. Unfortunately, Thorin has a tendency to run around shirtless, and Dis thinks she has improper designs on Fili and Kili, but if she can convince the Shire that Dwalin is a dance teacher, things might be okay.


Chapter 45

Billa sat at her desk, her head plopped onto her fist, and stared unseeingly out of the window. It had been four days since the blizzard started, and she had run out of things to do. Her hands were knicked and cut and tender from her knife practice, but she could think of nothing else to do. She had knitted, and read, and inspected her stores, and pored over her maps, and measured the walls and there was nothing else she could think of to do.

Winter was a time to be spent with family. If Thorin, Fili or Kili or Dis were here, there would have been baking and cooking and singing and games. Lithir had more interest in walking atop the snowdrifts to visit Bifur (who had been caught at the dwarven Smials when the blizzard began) than playing winter-time games with Billa. And Balin... Billa preferred to ignore Balin, and he seemed content to return the favor.

Billa sighed again, staring disconsolately out into the swirling snow, when a dark blur began to materialize through the snow.

She blinked, disbelieving. Am I finally mad? she thought curiously as the blur grew larger and closer. She blinked again, and the blur morphed into two forms.

It was Lithir, walking atop the snowdrifts with a rope around her waist, leading a trudging, huffing dwarf behind her. Is that... "Bifur!" Billa cried joyfully.

She sprung up from her desk and bolted to the mudroom, putting on her coat and moccasins before dashing out into the biting cold.

Lithir and Bifur were now on her back porch, both looking winded and ruddy-cheeked.

"Bifur! Lithir!" Billa cried as she rushed to embrace them. "Why ever did you risk the weather? Come! Come inside before you freeze solid!Oh, Bifur, it's one thing for Lithir on top of the snow-drifts, but you had to wade through them! You're entirely encrusted in snow, and wet to boot," Billa said frettingly as she herded them indoors. Bifur laughed.

"Bifur was worried about you," Lithir explained. "He knew you would be lonely, and insisted I lead him up here. He said something about ...games?" she asked the last part hesitantly, as she had no clue what Bifur meant.

Despite the blizzard, Billa's heart melted. "Games..." she sighed happily.

"These games haven't seen the light of day in more decades than I care to remember," she said as she led them into the living room where a large fire blazed warmly. Bifur immediately stationed himself before the fire, sighing in pleasure, while Billa went to find her family's Midwinter games.

This is what a family feels like, Billa thought smilingly. Then she passed Balin in the hallway, and she felt a rush of pity. Balin hasn't got any family left, she remembered. All he's got is Thorin... And Thorin is far away while he's stuck here with me. A pang of compassion and understanding flooded through her.

"Come, Mister Balin," she said in her sternest Dis-like voice. "We have need of you in the living room."

Balin started to huff and protest, but Billa swelled up to her full size, put her hands on her hips, and glared at him with all the fire she could muster. "You'll come and you'll like it!" she hissed like a pint-sized dragon.

Balin stared for a moment with wide eyes, completely taken aback. Then, he slowly nodded in acceptance, and Billa's ire melted away into a smile.


After a rousing game of Charades and several other Midwinter games, the fire was dying out and the four inhabitants of Bag End were drowsy and tired. Billa herself was asleep, tucked between Bifur and Lithir, with her head resting on Bifur's shoulder. Balin was sitting on Bifur's other side, eyes fluttering as he neared sleep. Lithir reached across Billa to prod Bifur, who woke with a start, and then grinned at her.

Carefully, Bifur got up and gently reclined Billa until her head was on Balin's lap. Balin gave a skeptical look, but Bifur returned his gaze steadily and made a few quick hand gestures. Balin sighed and turned his head away, but let Billa rest.

Bifur and Lithir shared a smile as snuck back out of the smial.


When Billa woke, she was warm and toasty, with a musty scent in her nose.

Dwarves, her mind identified drowsily, as she snuggled a little closer. Then awareness returned and her eyes blinked open. She took in the scene with surprise.

The fire was nothing more than embers now, and the blizzard still hummed in the air, although the windows were dark. By the faint glow of the embers, she could see she was snuggled between Balin and Lithir, with Bifur on the far side of Lithir.

Billa smiled and closed her eyes. A dwarven sleep pile, she thought happily. I'm in a dwarven sleep pile with a politician, a stoneworker, a hobbit princess, and an elf. Surely there's a joke in here somewhere.


The next morning, Bifur and Lithir had a surprise for her.

"The blizzard may end any time, but there will surely be another one. And you can't ride down to the smial every time you need us, so Bifur devised something clever," Lithir explained in her lilting voice.

"What is this?" Billa asked, eyeing the contraption curiously. They were on the back porch, bundled in furs. Deeply driven into the ground was a large wooden pole, with a metal cap on the top, and a gear with a cord looping on it. The cord doubled around the gear and stretched out into the blizzard on two strands.

Bifur grinned and began to show her. He tugged on the top cord, hauling it in length over length, while the bottom cord shot away in equal measure. After a few moments, a cylindrical container appeared, attached to the cord by its middle. Bifur continued to haul until the container clanged against the metal cap of the wooden post, producing a loud, clear, resonant note that Billa knew she would be able to hear from anywhere in or around her smial.

Still mystified, Billa watched as Lithir stepped in and unscrewed a lid from the cylindrical container. She produced a sheaf of papers and handed them to Billa, who took them with wide eyes, understanding beginning to dawn on her.

The notes were all written in Ori's neat hand, in Westron or Sindarin- his homework. He'd also included notes of gratitude from the other dwarves. He'd written a letter for Nori, and Dori, and informed her that all was well. He'd also asked for more stories to translate.

"This way you don't have to be cut off in the blizzard," Lithir said quietly. Bifur patted Billa's shoulder and smiled, before herding her back into the smial.

Billa sniffled and wiped her eyes, and then clutched the papers to her chest.

"The rope goes both ways," Lithir said in the mudroom, as they took off their snowy boots and coats. Billa sniffled again and gathered first Lithir, and then Bifur into a hug. And then Balin, too, though he'd just happened to be passing by the hallway.

"You're the oddest family I've ever had, but I'm very glad I have you," she said solemnly, with still-streaming eyes.

Balin's cheeks turned pink, and he ducked his head. Bifur got a wide grin, and Lithir leaned into Bifur's shoulder with a peaceful smile on her face.

Yes, Billa thought as she sat in her office and tucked into her letters, I'm very glad I have you.