Fili and Holman were at their alcove-making all of the rest of that day, and much of the next. Bilbo kept Kili away from the kitchen and the noise, and found him things to occupy himself with in the bedroom or outside. But towards mid-afternoon on the second day, Kili grew increasingly restless, until at last Bilbo frowned and sat down in front of him.

"What is the matter, my lad?" he asked. "Is there something you want?"

Kili hesitated, and Bilbo began to prepare himself for a long battle to discover what it was that was troubling his friend. But - to his surprise and satisfaction - such a battle never occurred. For after a moment, Kili glanced towards the bedroom door and spoke.

"We play game?" he asked.

"Certainly, we can play a game," Bilbo said, delighted by this request. "What game would you like to play?"

Kili stared at him, unblinking. "Not-" he said, and then shook his head and looked away. "I not mean this," he said.

"Oh," Bilbo said, finding himself rather disappointed. "Well, then, I'm afraid I did not understand you."

"No," Kili muttered, and then seemed to pull himself together. "I ask - we play - if we play today game. Game we played before."

"You want to know if we will play that game today," Bilbo said. "Will, remember?"

"Will," Kili repeated. "We will play today game? Game of before?"

"Hm," Bilbo said, listening carefully and hearing the faint sounds of hammering still drifting from the direction of the kitchen. "Well, no, I think not today."

Kili nodded slowly. "We not play again?" he said. "We - we not will play again?"

This question, of course, immediately sparked a suspicion in Bilbo that the game was important in some way to Kili. However, he could not for the life of him tell from Kili's face whether the little dwarf was hoping for a yes or a no, and after his mistake with the pantry the day before, he did not wish to assume too much. It was all quite vexing, to be sure!

"Why do you ask?" he said at last, deciding that more information was required before he could properly answer the question.

Kili frowned a little. "We play yesterday," he said. "Play also - yesterday yesterday."

"The day before yesterday," Bilbo supplied. "Yes, we have played two days in a row, now."

"Yes, two days," Kili said. "I did think - did think we play. Did think you like play."

Ah! Now there was the tiny opening into Kili's murky thought processes that Bilbo had been hoping for. It seemed to him that Kili would not have suggested that Bilbo liked to play unless he wanted to play himself. For a moment, he considered trying to lead Kili towards expressing his own desire, but then he soundly rejected the idea - for, although he was not always the wisest of hobbits, nonetheless he had learned something from the disaster that had been his last attempt to push Kili too quickly.

"Well," he said, "you are right, of course, I do enjoy that game. Perhaps we will play it tomorrow. Or even this afternoon, if your brother has finished with his project."

At this mention of Fili's renovations, Kili seemed to withdraw a little, a circumstance which naturally troubled Bilbo's mind. He had considered telling Fili what Kili had said about not liking the pantry, but decided against it for a number of reasons. First was that he still believed that there was more to Kili's feelings than his short statement had revealed. Second was that he felt that Fili had become a little overwrought in the past few days, and it was good for him to have some way to focus his energies. And third - and perhaps most important - was that if he told him and Fili abandoned the project, Bilbo would find himself with a pantry containing half an alcove, and half an alcove was no use to anyone. And so he had held his tongue, and hoped that there would be no serious consequences to his silence. Now, though, seeing Kili's reaction to the mention of what Fili was doing, he felt an unpleasant foreboding in his heart.

And as it happened, it was at that moment that the hammering stopped.

Kili, ever aware of his surroundings, sat up straighter, glancing again towards the bedroom door, but saying nothing. Bilbo waited a little while, but once it became clear that this was not merely a brief respite, but possibly even a true and final cessation, he took Kili's arm.

"At least we can go back to the living room," he said.

When they got there, though, Kili paused in the doorway, eyeing the room with a doubtful expression.

"Hobbit," he said, "where I should sit? I should sit on floor?"

"Not at all!" Bilbo said. "You should sit where you always sit, of course." But when he turned to point at Kili's chair, he saw that it had disappeared. He did not have long to ponder this, however, for a moment later, Fili stepped through the door, looking rather filthy and with sawdust in his beard.

"There you are," he said with a smile. "I have something to show you, my brother."

He took Kili's arm and led him towards the kitchen. Bilbo felt a nervous fluttering in his chest, and hurried to catch up with them, tugging on Fili's sleeve.

"Fili, perhaps this can wait," he said.

Fili glanced at him in confusion. "Wait?" he said. "Why would it need to wait?"

And Bilbo, try as he might, could invent no reason - or at least, not in the time it took to walk from the living-room to the kitchen. He was still thinking franticly when Fili flung open the pantry door and turned to his brother with a broad grin.

"Do you see?" he asked.

Kili stood in the doorway, staring in. Bilbo peered around him and saw that the alcove showed little evidence of its hasty construction. It was snug and inviting, the edges of the shelves sanded carefully smooth, and Kili's armchair set neatly within the oval space. Fili had placed a lamp on one of the shelves a little above head-height for a dwarf, and this shed a pleasant, warm glow over the shelves of jars and bottles and assorted foodstuffs, making them seem almost as something from a painting rather than the prosaic items they truly were. Why, it almost made Bilbo wish to curl up in the pantry himself!

Kili, however, did not go and sit in the chair, but only looked at his brother with a troubled expression.

"It is chair where I sit," he said.

"Yes," Fili replied. "It is your chair."

Kili nodded. "I should sit here?" he asked.

"Yes," said Fili, at the same time as Bilbo said "Only if you want to." Kili's troubled frown deepened, and he glanced anxiously from one to the other. Fili, too, turned to frown at Bilbo, and then after a moment turned back to his brother.

"You should sit," he said. "I made it so you could sit."

Kili looked again at Bilbo, and Bilbo, who was both concerned not to further upset the little dwarf and perhaps a trifle wary of Fili's temper, nodded his head. "Why don't you sit down for a little while?" he said.

Bilbo saw immediately that this had been the right thing to say, for there was a great easing of tension in Kili, and he went without hesitation to sit in the armchair. But even so, he did not look quite at ease, and he eyed Fili and Bilbo cautiously even as he settled himself.

"I should always sit here now?" he asked. "No more sit with you?"

"Goodness me, no," Bilbo said. "Why should you think that? Your brother and I would miss you terribly if you were to spend the rest of your life in the pantry!"

Kili's mouth twitched. "Chair is here," he said.

"We will get you another chair, Kili," Fili said. "Bilbo is right. We would miss you if you were always in here." He smiled, leaning down to give his brother a swift hug. "I would miss you," he said.

At this, Kili seemed at last to let go of the nervousness he had displayed ever since Fili started working on his alcove the day before. He sat back in his chair and gazed around at the shelves, then nodded at Fili.

"I understand," he said.

"Well, we shall leave you to your alcove," Bilbo said, quite relieved that Kili seemed so unperturbed by his odd change of scenery. "Oh, but there is one more thing." He hurried off to the airing cupboard, and came back a moment later with his arms full of blankets, which he dropped on Kili's lap. "A fire in here would not be good for the food," he said, "and besides, there is no fireplace. But I do not want you catching cold, master dwarf, so you must wrap up warm."

Kili obediently wrapped himself in a blanket, already seeming rather lost in his contemplation of a great ham that hung from the ceiling. Bilbo found himself smiling broadly, and he led Fili back into the kitchen. "Well, my friend" he said, patting Fili on the shoulder, "I must admit I had my doubts, but it seems your handiwork was just the thing."

Fili, though, did not seem entirely satisfied. "I thought he would be - more pleased," he said, frowning at the kitchen door and scratching at his beard, sending crumbs of sawdust spiralling to the floor.

"I think he is pleased," Bilbo said. Certainly, Kili seemed a great deal more pleased than Bilbo had expected, but he did not feel that now was the time to reveal to Fili what Kili had said about not liking the pantry. "But he is Kili. You can hardly expect him to dance a jig."

"No," Fili said, still staring at the door. He did not seem really to be listening to Bilbo, and so Bilbo gave up talking to him and went about his business, happy at least that no major disaster had occurred. Indeed, everything had been going remarkably smoothly for some time, and so of course Bilbo should have known that something less pleasant would soon occur. But he did not know, and in any case, the form that it took, when it came, was rather unexpected.

It was perhaps an hour after Kili had been installed in the pantry, and past time for afternoon tea, when Fili made as if to get to his feet.

"He has been in there long enough, I think," he said. "I will fetch him."

"Hm," Bilbo replied. "But do you not think that you might ask him whether he wants to come out or not?"

Fili stared at him a moment, then settled back into his chair. "No," he said, looking very serious. "I do not think I will."

Bilbo, rather surprised by the intensity of Fili's gaze, found himself squirming a little. "Oh, well," he stuttered, "but don't you think-"

"I do not," Fili said. There was no sharpness in his tone, but there was a finality there that made it clear that he would brook no argument. "He is not ready, Bilbo. I am surprised you still have not understood this."

Bilbo opened his mouth, and then closed it again, feeling suddenly rather like he was talking to Thorin - or rather, perhaps more like he was talking to Dis, for there was nothing of Thorin's impatience about Fili's expression or tone, but the odd weight that his words seemed to carry reminded Bilbo very much of his mother. And, just as when he talked to Dis, he found himself taking great care over the words he chose, and feeling very much like a silly little hobbit.

"I do understand, of course," he said finally. "I know as well as you that he does not want to make choices for himself. But if we simply let him go on, he will never take that step by himself. We must push him, Fili, or he will never learn."

Fili sat back in his chair. There had been times - very recent times, in fact, perhaps only the day before - when Bilbo had worried that his friend was far too emotional, that having his brother returned to him in the state he was in had created in him a great fragility that lay just beneath the surface of his smiling, confident exterior. But at this moment, Bilbo could see nothing of these cracks. All he saw was a determination, and a certainty that rather took his breath away.

"You are often right, my friend," Fili said. "Far more often than I. But you are not right now. We pushed him before, and he came back cowering at shadows. I would not see that again, even if it means it takes him a dozen years to learn to think for himself." Bilbo opened his mouth to protest this, but Fili raised a hand. "But I do not think it will be so," he said. "No-one pushes Kili as hard as he pushes himself. It was so before the orcs, and it is so now. He is much changed, it is true. But he is still my brother."

Bilbo frowned. "He has no reason to push himself," he said. "He does not want to make his own choices. He is quite happy letting us make them all for him."

Fili shook his head. "I know you believe this," he said, "but I disagree. I know I have lost my temper with you a few times of late, and I am sorry for that, for I know you are only trying your best. But I will not ask Kili what he wants, and you will not, either."

"Oh, will I not?" Bilbo asked, beginning to feel a little nettled by being pushed about in this manner. But Fili only fixed him with his serious gaze.

"You will not," he said. "You are his dear friend. But I am his brother, and his care rests with me."

Well, Bilbo fairly spluttered at this, for of course there were many times recently when he had found himself burdened with Kili's care, and Fili's, too, for that matter. "Your mother entrusted him to me," he managed at last - though he did not mention that Dis had in fact entrusted both her sons to him, for it seemed almost laughable that he might claim any kind of charge over Fili, for all that he looked after him in his darker moods.

"She did," Fili said with a small smile. "But that was six months ago or less. She entrusted him to me the day he was born, and I have never given that trust up, though I have not always fulfilled it as I would have liked. He is my brother, Bilbo, and I have listened to your advice and followed it many times, but this time I will not." He rose to his feet, and laid a heavy hand on Bilbo's shoulder. "I will not ask him if he wants to leave," he said. "I will tell him. It is what he needs to make him feel safe."

And this last, of course, Bilbo could not deny. For a moment, he tried to formulate a thought about there being things that were more important than feeling safe. But after careful consideration, he realised that, though this is true for many, if not most, it was perhaps not true for Kili, not then and there. And in any case, Fili had already left the room, and Bilbo could hear his low voice murmuring in the pantry. He frowned after him, and tried to disentangle his feelings, for he felt rather hurt, and a little angry, and oddly guilty, and all of these things were rather a lot for one small hobbit who had been expecting nothing of the sort. But then Fili returned with Kili in tow, and Bilbo made a determined effort to seem just as cheerful and carefree as always. He sat down opposite Kili and smiled at him, though he felt not quite so at ease as he usually did, for he was very aware of Fili at Kili's elbow.

"Did you enjoy your new alcove?" he asked.

Kili stared at him. "New-?" he said.

"Alcove," Bilbo said. "It is the name for the space you were sitting in in the pantry. Your brother made it for you."

"Alcoh," Kili said, and glanced at Fili. "What it is for?"

"It is for you to sit in, my brother," Fili said. "So that you have somewhere to sit when you are in the pantry."

"It was made especially for you," Bilbo said. "Do you know what that means?"

Kili thought for a moment. "It means - I should sit in pantry? But - but not always." He glanced again at Fili. "Fili say not always. Because miss."

"Well, that is not quite what it means," Bilbo said. "It means that you may go to the pantry whenever you want to. You have your own chair in there, you see? It means you can go whenever you feel like you might want to look at the food. You do not have to ask first. You can just go."

"Bilbo," Fili said, with a warning frown.

"Yes, master dwarf?" Bilbo said, in the most enquiring and innocent of tones. Perhaps Fili was ultimately Kili's guardian in a way that Bilbo could never hope to be - and did not want to be, for of course he had no interest in trying to replace Kili's family - but that did not mean Bilbo would simply do whatever he was told.

"We have talked about this," Fili said.

"We have, indeed," Bilbo replied, smiling at Kili and patting his knee. But Kili frowned and glanced warily at his brother.

"You are angry?" he said.

Fili stared at Bilbo just a moment longer, then turned to Kili with a soft smile. "I am not angry, my brother," he said. "Not angry in the least."

Kili watched him for a short time, as if trying to decide if he was telling the truth. But Fili only sat and smiled and allowed himself to be watched, and at last, Kili turned back to Bilbo.

"Alcoh," he said.

"Alcove," said Bilbo, making sure to speak clearly. "You can go there whenever you want. That is what it means, that your chair is there. Do you understand?"

Kili nodded, though he seemed rather hesitant. "Yes," he said. "Understand."

"Good," said Bilbo. "Well, then, I think it is time for tea." And he rose to his feet and made his way to the kitchen. But he did not go alone: Fili followed him there, and Bilbo, turning, braced himself for harsh words. And indeed, it seemed at first that he would receive them, for Fili was scowling at him fiercely, looking this time not at all like Dis, but only like Thorin. But a moment later, the scowl dissolved, and Fili only sighed.

"He will not go," he said, his voice low so that Kili would not hear. "He will not choose to go by himself."

"Well, there can certainly be no harm in telling him that he may," Bilbo said. This, of course, was not necessarily true, for Bilbo had learned by bitter experience that when it came to Kili, there were many things that could cause harm when it was least expected. But this, he felt sure, was not one of them - for after all, he had not told Kili he had to choose whether or not to go to the pantry, only that he could if he wanted to.

It seemed for a moment that Fili was about to say something else - but whatever it was, he closed his mouth around it and turned away, picking up the tray that Bilbo had been loading with tea and cake. Bilbo sighed and wondered when he had gone from feeling quite cheerful and content in his snug hobbit hole with his two beloved friends, to feeling rather ill at ease and obscurely guilty. But after a moment's feeling sorry for himself, he chided himself for a foolish hobbit and followed Fili back to the living room. After all, he had nothing to feel guilty about.

In the event, Fili was quite right: Kili did not take up the opportunity to go and sit in the pantry of his own accord, not that day, nor the next, either. This came as no great surprise, of course, but even so, Bilbo found himself oddly disappointed. He had hoped - oh, it had been a foolish hope, but a hope nonetheless - that, with the way so clear of obstacles, and the object so greatly desired, Kili might have found it a little easier than before to choose something just for himself. After all, he was happy enough to look at his pictures without so much as a by your leave. Perhaps, though, the game they had played had led Bilbo believing that the pantry was more important to Kili than it actually was - after all, he had had to go to one room or another, and indeed, he had even declared that he did not care for it when Bilbo had asked him outright. But Bilbo could not help but remember the way he had stared and stared at the food, the way he had even seemed dazed after too long spent among the shelves, and wonder that this could be a result of indifference or dislike.

On the second day after the alcove was finished, Bilbo had his answer. Shortly after elevenses, Kili sat up in his chair and frowned a little.

"Hobbit," he said, "we play - we will play game?"

"Game?" Bilbo asked. "Would you like to play the game?"

Kili's frown deepened. "You said - you said before yesterday play, but we not play. We will not play again?"

"I did say that, didn't I?" Bilbo said. "Well, it is only because I forgot! Certainly we can play again. In fact, we shall play right now!" And he looked at Fili, who nodded and smiled.

"I should be very glad to play," he said.

"Splendid," Bilbo said. "Well, now, why don't you go first, Kili, since it was your idea?"

This suggestion did not have quite the effect Bilbo was hoping for, for Kili looked suddenly quite distressed and ducked his head, letting his hair fall across his face.

"It not my idea," he muttered. "Not my. Hobbit idea. I ask only, only ask."

"Oh, of course," Bilbo said hastily, patting Kili's arm. "Of course it was not your idea. I only mean to say it was you that reminded me, since I had already said we would play. And you should go first, because it was you that reminded me."

Kili, after a moment or two of hesitation, came cautiously out from behind his hair. "I go?" he said.

"Yes," Bilbo replied. "You should go."

And so Kili went, and of course Bilbo did not need his mirror to see where he chose to go. But nonetheless he frowned after him, for he was concerned by how unhappy Kili had been with the attribution of an idea to him. After all, he had had ideas before - it had been his idea to pretend to be a snaga in Lake-Town, more than a year ago now! - and had never seemed overly perturbed. This odd reluctance on Kili's part to claim any kind of thought or will at all caused an uneasiness deep in Bilbo's stomach, an uneasiness that he rather thought might have been growing for some time, but had only now made itself known.

"Shall we leave him to the pantry?" Fili asked, breaking into Bilbo's worried thoughts.

"What? Oh, yes, I suppose we should," Bilbo said.

And so they did.

Bilbo left Kili in the pantry for almost an hour before deciding it was time to go and fetch him. Fili had gone down into the village to buy some fresh eggs, and so Bilbo found himself making for the pantry alone. A thought crept into his mind that perhaps he might do just as Fili refused to do, and ask Kili if he was ready to leave or not - and surely, if Kili could not reply then he could make the decision for him, but if he could, well, would that not be quite the triumph for Bilbo? But when he stepped in through the pantry door and observed his friend, wrapped up in his blanket and tucked into the armchair, he remembered of a sudden how Kili had grown unhappy at the very suggestion that an idea might be attributed to him, and he decided that perhaps it was Fili who had the right of it, after all.

"Hello there, my lad," he said with a smile, touching Kili's shoulder to attract his attention (for he seemed quite distracted by an admittedly impressive marrow). "Time to go back to the living room."

Kili turned and blinked at him. "Hobbit," he said, and then frowned. "You are long time guess."

"Oh," Bilbo said, "well, we guessed a lot of other rooms first, but you weren't in any of them. And that means that you win this round, I think!"

Kili's frown deepened at this, though he came easily enough to his feet when Bilbo tugged on his arm, and followed Bilbo out of the pantry without the least hesitation. "We play again?" he asked, and then paused in the doorway to the living room, glancing around. "Fili already go room?"

"Your brother has gone out for a little while," Bilbo said. "We will have to play again some other time. Why don't you sit down and look at your pictures?"

Kili sank obediently into his chair and took up the pictures, but he did not look at them, but rather stared at Bilbo intently.

"Was there something else you wanted to ask?" Bilbo said.

Kili stared a moment longer, then looked away. "No ask," he mumbled.

"Hm," said Bilbo. But it seemed, indeed, that Kili had nothing to ask, and now he had redirected his fierce concentration to his pictures, so Bilbo let him be.

If Bilbo Baggins had been asked to describe what life in his cosy hobbit hole was like in the next few days, he would certainly have used the word quiet. The three inhabitants of Bag End went about their business, and spent much of their time gathered in the living room around the fire, for the weather had taken something of a chilly turn as October gave way to November. Cosy it was indeed, and snug, and there was plenty of food, and plenty of warmth, and it was everything a once-respectable hobbit like our Mr. Baggins could have wished for. But above all, it was quiet.

Everything a hobbit could wish for perhaps, and yet, something was amiss, and for all the cosiness and warm fire, Bilbo felt quite ill at ease. Kili had grown silent indeed, and spent a great deal of his time staring at nothing, but when Bilbo asked him if something was the matter, he merely mumbled into his hair and refused to meet Bilbo's gaze. At first, Bilbo thought this was merely one of his shy moods, which, though not quite as frequent as they had once been, still made regular appearances, with no apparent explanation. But as one day passed into the next, and Kili said scarcely a word to Bilbo and precious little more to Fili, the unease in Bilbo's heart began to grow, and to gnaw at him a little, and to tinge all the good cheer and comfort of the hobbit hole with a sort of nagging unpleasantness. Kili did not even ask to play the game any more, and although at last Bilbo gave up waiting and announced that they would play himself, Kili seemed quite indifferent to it, and even a little reluctant, if truth be told, so that they gave it up very soon after they began, and did not play again.

Perhaps it was Kili whose behaviour was causing the most disquiet in Bilbo's heart, but it was Fili - as so often - who brought the matter to a head. He, it seemed, had been afflicted much as Bilbo had by Kili's silence, and had gone from general good cheer to unsmiling seriousness, and from there to worried frowns interspersed with bouts of crossness. At last, on the day after their attempt to play Kili's game, Fili took Bilbo aside, dragging him into the kitchen and closing the door.

"Have you done something to make my brother angry with you?" he asked, before Bilbo even had the chance to sit down at the table.

"Angry?" Bilbo asked, astonished. "Do you think he is angry with me?"

Fili scowled, glancing at the door. "Well, upset, then," he said. "He is certainly not himself. What have you said to him?"

"Why should you think I have said anything at all?" Bilbo snapped, feeling quite hard done by - and not for the first time that week, for he had not forgotten Fili's assertion of his authority over Kili, although he had tried to accept it. "He barely speaks to me, so I can hardly have had the chance to say something to upset him!"

"Well, I have not said anything," Fili said, "and so it must have been you. Think, Bilbo. You must have done something."

"Oh, you dwarves are quite impossible!" Bilbo cried. "First I am responsible for Kili's wellbeing, then I am told I cannot make decisions regarding him, and now despite that it must be my fault whenever he is miserable! As if your brother were not capable of flinging himself into the darkest of moods without anyone's help at all."

Fili seemed quite surprised by this outburst, but he did not shout back, only narrowed his eyes a little. "You know as well as I that he is rarely so unhappy without good cause," he said.

"Do I, indeed?" Bilbo asked. "And do you not think that the shadows he has in his mind from all those years of horror are good cause enough? No, apparently it takes a hobbit to do what orcs cannot."

Fili's jaw grew tight, then, and Bilbo clamped his teeth down on what he had been going to say next, which would no doubt have been just as ill-tempered - and ill-considered - and drew in a deep breath. "I have not done anything," he said, rather stiffly. "I have not done anything, and I have not said anything, and I would thank you not to assume that everything is always my fault. But if you would like, I will talk to Kili, so that we may be sure."

Fili watched him for a long moment, then nodded.

"We will ask him," he said. "If you can manage to keep a rein on your temper."

This, of course, made Bilbo's temper swell up all the more, but he swallowed it down and nodded back.

"Well, then," he said, and stalked into the living room. Once there, he paused to pull himself together - for perhaps Fili was behaving unfairly, but it was true enough that it would not do to ask Kili any difficult questions while he was still feeling angry and snappish. Once he was sure that he would be able to prevent any left-over annoyance from presenting itself in his voice, he sat opposite Kili and reached over to pat his knee.

"Now, then, my lad," he said. "What is this all about? Have I done something to make you angry?"

Kili lifted his head and frowned at him, then looked quickly away, just as he had been doing for the last few days. "I not understand," he mumbled.

"I am asking why you are so gloomy and quiet," Bilbo said, making sure to speak clear. "Are you angry with me?"

Now, Bilbo only asked this question to show Fili that it was not the case, and he certainly did not expect the reaction it produced, or the events that followed. Perhaps, if he had known, he would not have said it at all. And then again, perhaps it was exactly the right thing to say. At any rate, say it he did, and then Kili did indeed look him in the face, with an expression of such incredulity that it was almost comical.

"Angry you?" he said. "No - no, I not - I can not angry you. How I be angry you? Can not angry you."

Having said this, he ducked his head sharply and clasped his hands around his knees, as if trying to prevent them from doing something else. Bilbo, taken aback by this vehement outburst, glanced at Fili, only to see he was looking just as perplexed. And now there was quite the dilemma, for it was not clear to Bilbo whether the best thing would be to continue his line of questioning and dig out the cause of Kili's withdrawal, or to try to help him understand that it was perfectly permitted for him to be angry with anyone he chose. But it seemed to Bilbo that this vigorous denial of even the capability for anger had rather too much in common with Kili's refusal of the possibility of having ideas a few days before, and this was surely a more pressing problem than a passing dark mood. And so he settled himself more comfortably in his chair and reached out to touch Kili's arm.

"You certainly can be angry with me, if I have done something to warrant it," he said. "You can be angry with anyone - with me, or with Fili, or with your uncle - perhaps most especially with your uncle, since he is so very good at occasioning it." He paused, but Kili did not lift his head or show any sign that he had heard what Bilbo had said. "Did you understand me, lad?" Bilbo asked. "You can be angry with whoever has done something to deserve it."

Kili did say something then, but he kept his head down and spoke so quietly that all Bilbo heard was a low muttering. Sighing, Bilbo reached out and took Kili's chin with his fingers, lifting it until their eyes were of a level. Even then, though, Kili did not look at him, but kept his eyes on the floor.

"What did you say?" Bilbo asked. "I cannot hear you when you have all that hair over your face."

"You not want hear," Kili muttered, determinedly looking at his knees.

"I most certainly do," Bilbo replied. "Come, now, tell me what it is."

Kili hesitated, then seemed to try to duck his head again, although the movement was prevented by Bilbo's firm grasp on his chin. "Snaga can not be angry master," he said.

These words, though spoken in a voice so quiet it was barely audible, struck Bilbo like a blow. He gaped at Kili, then turned to Fili for assistance, only to find that his own horror and revulsion were mirrored on his friend's face. Bilbo turned back, seizing Kili by the arm, which of course meant letting go of his chin. The moment he did this, Kili's head dropped, and he curled rapidly into himself, and surely would have drawn his legs up in front of him if it had not meant pushing Bilbo out of the way.

"But you are not a snaga," Bilbo said, shaking Kili's arm a little. "Kili, you know this. You know it. You are not a snaga, and I am certainly not - I am not -" And here the words turned to ash on his tongue, for he had never, not once, considered that Kili might think of him as a master, him, Bilbo Baggins, a silly little hobbit who could no more be master to a slave than he could grow wings and fly away. But now to hear Kili speak this way, after everything, after all these months- No, he could not even countenance it. "Kili," he said again. "Kili, you know this."

Kili did not respond to this plea, remaining curled over and withdrawn. Fili, after an alarmed glance at Bilbo, took hold of his brother's other arm, and seemed as though he wished to put his arm around him, though he did not do so. "You are not a snaga," he said. "You are not a snaga, my brother. Please."

It was this last word, or perhaps the odd, high note in Fili's voice when he said it, that finally brought forth a response from Kili. He glanced up, first at Fili, then at Bilbo, and shook his head.

"I not know what you want," he said. "I not know."

"What do you mean?" Bilbo asked.

For a moment, he thought that Kili would refuse to answer, but at last the little dwarf lifted his head a little, though he still seemed most uneasy, and would only look at Bilbo for a short time before dropping his eyes.

"You say want I choose," he said. "You say this. I should choose. It is not snaga. Snaga not choose. But you say want. Want I not snaga. You say this."

"I said that, indeed," Bilbo said. "I have never wanted you to be a snaga. You know that." He looked at Fili, hoping for support, but Fili was only staring at his brother, and was no use at all.

"You say - say," Kili said, and then seemed to run out of words. He shook his head. "You ask me, I want go pantry. I say - say no. Not like, not want. But you want I go. You say I go."

"Oh," Bilbo said. "Oh, well, you see, I thought - your brother and I thought - that maybe you would enjoy it in there. We only wanted you to go because we thought you would enjoy it, you see?" But even as he said it, it became obvious to him that it did not really matter whether Kili had been telling the whole truth when he said he did not want to go into the pantry - the fact was that he had expressed a preference, and Bilbo had ignored it, despite all his urging for Kili to make his own choice. A great sense of frustration and guilt rose up in Bilbo then, for of course he had only been doing his best to make his friend happy, and yet it seemed he had caused more problems than he had solved.

But there was more to come. Kili was shaking his head again. "You say choose," he said. "You say choose, but I choose, and it is wrong. I choose wrong. I not understand."

Bilbo opened his mouth to try again to explain, but it seemed that Kili had not finished. "You - you find me, in pantry," he said. "You are long time, long time find. You say it is - long time guess, guess wrong room first. But it is not this. Know it is not this. Always go same room, always, always. It is not long time guess. You know room. Should know. But you say long time guess. And - and say play game, but it is not game. Fili not play. It is not game. You say me wrong. Say me not true. You want I choose, but say me not true. How I can choose, how I can be not snaga, you not say me true?"

"Well, I-" Bilbo spluttered, "yes, it is true that - I certainly did not - I only said that to you because I thought you were enjoying being in the pantry, my lad. I did not mean to mislead you." He was beginning to feel rather like he had stepped into a terrible trap, and he could see no way to defend himself, although for the life of him he could not quite understand what he had done wrong, either. And what was worse, Fili was beginning to scowl, and although he was still staring at his brother, Bilbo knew that the scowl was meant for someone else entirely.

"It is not enjoy, not enjoy," Kili said. "It is you say I choose. I should choose. But you not - not let me choose. I not understand, hobbit. You want I snaga, you want I not snaga?"

Bilbo found his mouth dropping open for the second time that day. This time, he could find no words at all, and Kili stared at him anxiously.

"You not angry," he said. "I only ask, only want know. You not angry. You want snaga, I can snaga. I do this. You want, I do. Only say me. You want I snaga?"

On hearing this - this dreadful offer of willing enslavement, this offer that went against everything that Bilbo had worked so hard to teach Kili for so many months - all the unease and frustration and sense of being unfairly treated that Bilbo had been suffering for the past few days seem to churn together in Bilbo's gut to produce a great maelstrom of unpleasant emotions. Unfortunately, as is so often the case when strong negative feelings are thus mixed, the first thing that bubbled to the surface was anger.

"Of course I do not want you to be a snaga!" he cried, not caring to hide the sharpness in his tone. "You are being very unfair, very unfair indeed. I have never wanted that, as you know very well, for I have told you and told you and told you again, until I am blue in the face and there is no breath left in my body! Why, if a few little white lies is all it takes after everything for you to think that way, then perhaps this is all hopeless and you will never learn not to be a snaga after all!"

As soon as these last words had left Bilbo's mouth, he wished to call them back. But what is once spoken is spoken forever, and he had little time for regret, in the event, for Fili shot to his feet, seizing Bilbo by the arm and hauling him out of his chair.

"Out," he growled, shoving Bilbo towards the kitchen. But Bilbo had had quite enough of being pushed around by Fili, and he was still hurt and angry and, somewhere beneath it all, feeling very guilty indeed, and he stood his ground and folded his arms.

"This is my hobbit hole, master dwarf," he said. "I am not going anywhere."

Fili loomed over him, mouth set in a furious line. But Bilbo had stared down Thorin Oakenshield, and Fili, full of rage though he might be, was no match for his uncle. He stood firm, and after a moment, Fili turned sharply away.

"Then we will leave," he said, grabbing Kili's arm and pulling him to his feet. Bilbo opened his mouth to tell him not to be so ridiculous, but Fili was already halfway across the room, and Bilbo caught a glimpse of Kili's panicked face as he looked back before the door slammed behind them. A moment later, the front door opened and closed, and then there was silence.

Bilbo stared at the space where his friends had been not a moment before and tried to understand what on earth had happened that they were now gone. A moment later, filled with apprehension, he ran to the front door and threw it open, meaning to call them back. But the hillside was empty. Not a breath of wind stirred the chilly air, and no-one walked abroad, neither dwarves nor hobbits.

They were gone.