Chapter 7 – Amends
By the morning of the next day the rumours of Bilbo's banishment had spread all over Erebor like wildfire. Whispers followed him everywhere when he walked to the kitchens to have his breakfast early in the morning. Luck stood on his side for once and he found only Bombur there, putting together a feast for the elves. The ginger-haired dwarf gave him a look when Bilbo came in, but continued working. Bilbo made himself a pot of tea and went to sit down at his favourite place.
"We still like you, you know," Bombur said, putting a plate of fruit cakes on the table in front of Bilbo.
"I know you do," Bilbo told him, sounding more confident than he felt. "I'm not so sure about the rest of Erebor."
"They'll come around."
"Thank you for standing up for me," Bilbo told him with a smile.
Bombur sat down on the opposite bench.
"I don't think I've ever seen my brother so angry."
"What happened after I had left?" Bilbo asked.
Bombur grimaced.
"Thorin had to interrupt his audiences, because there was a serious risk that he would get publicly punched by his advisors. We all went to a nearby chamber and then spent good two hours yelling at him. Glóin almost hit him." Bombur gave him a look. "Why didn't you tell us about the banishment?"
"I don't like to be reminded of it," Bilbo dropped his eyes to the table. "Neither I nor Thorin are very proud of what we said that day. After I came back here, we had both agreed that it would be easier for everyone if we kept the whole incident a secret. I didn't count on the elven king making it public knowledge to make himself look better in comparison."
"What are you going to do now?" Bombur asked. "As much as I hate to see it, half the kitchen is already gossiping about you."
"I'm going to ask for an audience with Thorin," Bilbo told him. "I believe an official show of good will on both our sides should cause the gossips to back off a little."
"Good luck with that," Bombur told him earnestly. He stood up from the table. "Will you have time to help me with the cake? I have already baked the base, but I still need you to decorate it."
"Of course," Bilbo assured him. "I didn't forget about it. I'll come by after lunch, if that's all right with you. That should give me plenty of time to finish the decorations before the evening presentation."
Bombur gave him a satisfied nod and went back to his cooking. Bilbo ate his breakfast slowly, every mouthful feeling like he was preparing for a battle. Maybe he was, in a way, he thought as he walked back to his quarters. There were all kinds of battles after all and not all of them required swords and axes.
Bilbo took a lot more care with his appearance than he usually did. He carefully combed his hair and changed into his best pair of trousers, picking up the gold-trimmed vest from the living room armchair. He briefly thought about wearing the mithril mail over his shirt, but in the end decided not to provoke the onlookers too much.
After he had checked his appearance one last time in the mirror, he picked up the tapestry and walked to the door. Before he opened them, he took a breath and squared his shoulders, praying to the Valar for luck.
The journey to the throne hall seemed shorter than usual. He peeked into the hall through the doorway and found it full with dwarves not only from Erebor, but from the Iron Hills as well. It appeared that Dáin had arrived at last. Bilbo almost turned around and fled at that discovery, but his stubbornness kept him in place.
"I am here to request an audience with the King Under the Mountain," Bilbo told the guard at the door.
"Come to crawl, have you?" the dwarf said with a smirk. Bilbo raised his chin haughtily, staring the dwarf down. The guard dropped his gaze after a moment and shuffled away to tell Thorin of his request.
Bilbo took the tapestry in both hands to hold it like an offering and went to stand in the great doors of the throne room. He could feel the precise moment when the assembled dwarves noticed him, whispers starting around the hall. Thorin sat on his marble throne on the other side of the hall, his expression unreadable from the distance. Bilbo waited for the herald to announce him and started his long trek to the throne.
The eyes on him were almost like a physical weight, daring him to trip or look ashamed of his situation. Bilbo decided not to give them the satisfaction and held his head high, his eyes holding Thorin's the whole time he walked towards the throne. He might look like a supplicant, but his pride forbade him from becoming one. Despite what the dwarves might expect, he would not crawl.
He stopped in the same spot where Thranduil had stood the previous day and gave Thorin a bow.
"Hail, Thorin son of Thráin, King Under the Mountain!" he said in a strong voice. "I bring you a gift as a token of my gratitude for welcoming me back to Erebor. Your invitation did not specify whether we should bring anything, but I thought it only appropriate, given the occasion."
He offered the rolled cloth to Thorin, who rose from his throne to take it from him.
"I made a tapestry for the anniversary of dragon's death," Bilbo continued, addressing the hall, but keeping his eyes firmly on Thorin. "We are here today to celebrate the dragon's fall, but it is my opinion that while we may celebrate the worm's end, we should not forget how the whole history started in the first place. I hope my work does the terrible event some justice."
He stepped back to allow Thorin to do the rest. The king unrolled the tapestry slowly, looking at it for a long time. Even though he had seen it already, he managed to make his surprise convincing enough. After a moment, Thorin beckoned his nephews to come closer and show the tapestry to the crowd.
There were many gasps and murmurs when the dwarfs in the hall saw it. A few of them were frowning at Bilbo, probably shocked at his audacity, but most of them looked impressed.
Thorin silenced the whispers voices with a hand.
"You skill does you credit, Master Baggins," Thorin said, his voice resonating around the hall. "I am very pleased to have you back in Erebor as a guest of honour for the celebrations." He gave Bilbo a genuine smile. Bilbo smiled back. Thorin continued.
"I will have the tapestry displayed in my audience chamber where it can be appreciated properly. I am looking forward to any other works of art you may create in the future."
"It would be a pleasure, my Lord," Bilbo said with a small bow.
"You may go now," Thorin said. "I believe my royal advisors are most anxious for your company."
Bilbo nodded and went over to his friends, who immediately formed a protective cocoon around him. They all seemed to be determined to talk to him, so Bilbo let himself be dragged away. Only Dwalin remained behind, standing behind Thorin's throne like a silent watchdog.
"What was that scene you just played in the hall?" Dori asked once the doors were shut behind them. "If Thorin put you up to it-" his voice started to rise dangerously.
"He didn't force me to do anything," Bilbo cut in before the dwarf could work himself into a state. "It was my own decision to do this."
"But why?" Bofur said. "Thorin was the one who banished you. He should be the one to apologise to you."
"He can't do that in public without losing his authority as a king," Bilbo said. "Am I right in that, Balin?"
"You got that right, laddie," the old dwarf sighed. "As far as the people of Erebor know, you were banished by the king and now you're back because he allows it."
"But that's not fair," Kíli protested. "Thorin was terrible to you. It's not right that you should be the one to publicly ask for forgiveness when he was in the wrong."
"It's politics," Balin explained gently. "You have yet much to learn before you can play the game yourself." He turned to Bilbo. "I have to say, you handled the situation with a surprising amount of grace."
Bilbo ducked his head.
"Thank you. Thorin and I spoke about it yesterday afternoon and we both agreed that a public audience would be the best course of action."
"How can you even talk to him after the way he has treated you?" Ori asked. "You should have punched him."
Bilbo chuckled at his fervour.
"I nearly did at first. But Thorin has already apologised to me for the banishment. He did it almost right after I arrived here."
"And that makes everything all right?" Bofur asked with a surprising amount of scepticism.
Bilbo sighed.
"No. We still have a long way to go, but we had peace until yesterday. Now we will both have to do a lot of careful political dances to let us keep our positions intact."
"That tapestry is really pretty," Ori said, changing the subject. "Did you really make it all by yourself?"
"Yes," Bilbo gave him a smile. "We had a very long winter in the Shire last year. I drew the scene entirely by heart from what I remembered about the dragon's arrival from your stories, Balin. Did I get anything wrong?"
Balin shook his head.
"No, it's almost frighteningly accurate. I felt a shiver down my spine when I looked at it the first time. Are you planning to make any more?"
"I have ideas for two more tapestries and I think there will be no shortage of further inspiration for me here," Bilbo said. "As soon as I get a loom, I will start working on the next piece."
"That could keep you here in Erebor for a long time," Ori said slowly.
Bilbo nodded.
"Maybe even permanently." He saw the precise moment his meaning registered with the dwarves, their faces lighting up.
"You're really staying here?" Kíli asked with wonder.
"For as long as I can," Bilbo replied and quickly found himself with an armful of overjoyed dwarf.
"Oh, this is wonderful," Kíli exclaimed, lifting Bilbo from the ground in his excitement. Fíli and Ori took their turns hugging him as well while the others watched with wide smiles.
"There's a lot I am willing to do to be able to stay here in Erebor," Bilbo said when Ori finally released him.
"Even make a public apology for something that wasn't your fault?" Fíli asked with new understanding in his voice.
"Even that," Bilbo nodded. "Please stop harassing Thorin about it. I find dealing with him so much easier when he's not in a permanent state of temper.
"Very well," Fíli said, silencing his brother's protests with a look, "we'll let you deal with him on your own. Mahal knows I'm not too eager to deal with His Grouchiness all the time, either."
"Thank you," Bilbo told him. "Would you all mind terribly if I went back to my quarters for a while? This morning has been a little too exciting for me and I need to recover a bit before I am able to face the crowds at lunch."
"Not at all," Balin patted his shoulder. "Take as much time as you need."
"I'll come with you," Fíli offered. "Kíli can take the tapestry to Thorin's chambers." The others dispersed, most of them going back to the throne room. Ori offered to stay with Kíli and help him hang the tapestry.
"You mentioned the other day that you have a fancy cloak, right?" Fíli asked him as they walked back to Bilbo's rooms.
"Yes," Bilbo said. "I made it a while ago, but I have never worn it, because it looked ridiculous in Shire. I think it might be appropriate for the ceremonies here."
"Show me," Fíli told him when they arrived to the sitting room.
Bilbo went to the bedroom and dug out the heavy cloak from the bottom of his wardrobe. It was made of rich dark green fabric and had intricate golden symbols wrought along the edges. He brought it back to the sitting room and showed it to Fíli. The dwarf took it from him, running his finger along the intricate patterns.
"What are these?"
"I have a great fondness for old stories," Bilbo said. "I got inspired when I read about the great deeds of ages past." He lifted the bottom parts of the cloak, pointing out the symbols. "These are the two trees of Valinor. The weaving patters along the edges are their branches and roots. Above each of the trees is a Star of Fëanor and I think you could find the hammer and anvil of the dwarves somewhere in the pattern as well."
"It's beautiful," Fíli said, admiring the work. He looked up. "Would be possible to add a little more to this?"
"I suppose so..." Bilbo shrugged, not sure where the question was headed.
"Can you have these added to your cloak by dinnertime?" Fíli took a small piece of parchment from his pocket, handing it to Bilbo.
"Aren't these Durin's symbols?" Bilbo looked at him in bewilderment.
"Yes," Fíli nodded. "All the members of the family and the royal advisors wear them somewhere on their clothes. It would raise your standing considerably if you wore them, too."
"Does Thorin know about this?" Bilbo asked.
"He's the one who suggested it," Fíli said. "He came to me this morning and asked me to relay his request to you. It is his wish that you wear these as a symbol of your position here in Erebor."
Bilbo was floored.
"I...yes, I can have these sewn on my cloak by dinnertime. There's a free spot near the neck where the stars will look particularly good."
Fíli gave him a smile.
"I'm so glad you have decided to stay in Erebor." He reached into his pocket for a second time and pulled out a beautiful golden clasp. It was shaped like an eagle and had two tiny emeralds in the place of eyes. "This is from me," he told Bilbo and pressed the small brooch into his palm. "Since you got so little from the dragon's treasure, I thought it's only fair that you get this."
"It's too much," Bilbo protested.
"You can consider it a payment for looking after my brother, if you wish." Fíli quelled his protests with a look. "Please, keep it. It will go well with the cloak."
"Thank you," Bilbo said, giving in to the plea. He spent a moment admiring the delicate work. "It's beautiful."
"I'll see you at lunch," Fíli said, heading to the door. "Bard should be here already to help keep the peace between Uncle and the elven-king, so the meal should be a lot more pleasant than the dinner yesterday was."
"Let us hope so."
°O°O°O°
The Great Hall was decorated in a grand fashion when Bilbo walked in at lunchtime. There were garlands weaving around the pillars and from the ceiling hang dozens of beautiful wrought lanterns that lit up the hall, their light reflecting on the silver plates and goblets. The final effect made the room gleam with a thousand golden lights and Bilbo thought that he had never seen so much beauty in one place.
All the guests had already arrived and were filling the hall, taking their places at the tables. There were three tables placed in a loose U-shape – the King's High table that stood along the wall and two longer ones placed a little further down the hall that ran parallel with each other. Thorin sat right in the middle of his table, surrounded with his kin and friends.
Bard and Thranduil had each been given a seat at one end of the High table and Gandalf got seated on Bard's right. To his surprise, Bilbo found that he was supposed to sit at Thranduil's left hand, while the chair on the right was reserved for the Elven-King's son. The two young Tooks had been delegated to sit at one of the side tables with Glóin's son, with whom they had been spending the past two days. Looking in their direction, Bilbo found them huddled close together, leading an animated conversation with the young dwarf.
There was no speech at lunchtime, because the official start of the ceremonies was scheduled for the evening. The lack of formality made the atmosphere relaxed and joyful, leaving the entertainment to the guests' own discretion. The hall soon filled with chatter and laughter and the clinking of goblets, but most of the attendants were too busy with their food to pay much attention to their neighbours. Bilbo was pleased to find that Bombur had used some of his recipes for the feast and even more when the servants brought the tarts that he had made himself as dessert.
"Some of the food these dwarves serve is quite good," remarked one of the elves. "I wonder what this is," he said, raising one of Bilbo's fruit tarts for inspection.
"That is a fruit tart," Bilbo told him. "It's a hobbit recipe. Maybe that's why you have never seen it before."
"Ah, that would explain it," the elf said. "I've never been overly fond of dwarvish food."
Bilbo felt an urge to ask him "why did you come here, then?" but managed to stay silent. Thank Valar that Bombur was sitting on Bard's side of the table and hadn't heard the elf. He wouldn't take kindly to someone badmouthing his cooking.
"How did you like my halls, Master Baggins?" Thranduil asked him, effectively drawing the attention of half the table. "Since you stayed for more than a week the last time you were there, you had plenty of time to form an opinion."
"They are very pretty," Bilbo said with a smile. "I must say that I found my stay in your palace much more enjoyable when I didn't have to spend it all lurking around a prison."
There were a few choking noises from the direction of the dwarves and a hastily muffled giggle that sounded suspiciously like Kíli. Bilbo didn't look over to check. He was gazing at the elven king, waiting for his reaction. Thranduil looked a bit pained at the reminder, but his son appeared very amused.
"How you had managed to spend two weeks under our noses, unnoticed by our guards, I have never understood," Legolas said, shaking his head.
"I used a secret hobbit craft that allows me to pass unseen by most," Bilbo told him. "It was the same skill, in fact, that had allowed me to sneak into the dragon's lair twice while he was asleep and steal from his hoard."
"Did you really talk to the dragon?" asked one of the dwarves from Iron Hills, leaning over the table in curiosity. Bilbo thought it might be Dáin's son, since the family resemblance was strong.
"Yes, I talked to the dragon," Bilbo said. "He fancied himself to be very clever and cunning, but it only took a little flattering for him to eagerly show me his weak spot. It's a shame I wasn't fast enough to warn the Lake-town of his approach, but I was at least able to send them a message about the dragon's weakness."
"That was you?" Bard's voice rose from the other end of the table. "You told the bird where I should shoot?"
"Yes," Bilbo said. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more to help you."
"What you did was enough. You found the dragon's weak spot. Without it, we could have shot our entire arsenal of arrows at him and wouldn't have harmed him in the slightest. I suppose I should thank you for that." He raised his goblet in Bilbo's direction.
"No!" Bilbo protested before the others could follow the example. "Please don't toast me. It was you who killed the dragon, not me. In fact," he said, standing up, "since we are here to celebrate the dragon's death, I propose a toast to Bard Dragonslayer, hero of Lake-town. None of us would be here today if it wasn't for his sharp aim."
"To Bard!" Most of the High table raised their glasses and the rest of the hall quickly followed the example, drinking to the man's health. Bilbo sat down, content that they had forgotten about the toast for him. He caught Bard's eye at the other side of the table. The man didn't appear very appreciative of Bilbo's successful attempt to redirect the attention elsewhere. For a hero, he was rather reluctant to revel in his glory. Gandalf next to him appeared highly amused with the whole spectacle, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he watched the antics at the table.
"Can you sing, Master Baggins?" Bilbo's attention was drawn away from the wizard by Thranduil.
"Yes, but I haven't sung properly for years."
"Don't you sell yourself short!" Kíli called from his place. "I heard you sing some elvish stuff the last time we were in Rivendell. I didn't understand a word, but it was very pretty."
"Well, if your singing was good enough for Elrond's house, surely you should have no trouble here," Thranduil said, the subtle jab completely flying over the dwarves' heads. "Would you be willing to sing for me after dinner tonight?"
"I suppose so," Bilbo said. "I would have to go over my notes first, but I should be able to put together one or two songs in elvish. And if you don't mind translations, I could sing one of the ballads from the Old Days."
"You know those tales?" Thranduil looked genuinely surprised.
"I know most of them, though very few by heart," Bilbo said. "I have translated several volumes of the old poems into the Common Tongue, so I would dare say that I am quite familiar with those works."
"Indeed?" the elven-king looked impressed despite himself.
"Could you sing for us too, after you're done with the elvish ballads?" Fíli asked him.
"I don't see a reason why I couldn't," Bilbo said.
As soon as he was able, he took his leave from the table under the pretence of needing to refresh his memory of the songs. In reality, he ran to his quarters for a quick change of clothes and then went to the kitchen to check on the cake he and Bombur had been secretly putting together for days. It was shaped like a huge dragon, lying on his side after he was slain by an arrow. It had taken Bilbo several days before he was able to create the right shade of red for the dragon's scales and he was very proud of his invention.
From what Bombur had told him, dwarves sometimes created cakes like these to commemorate important events, but rarely had the patience to put much work into them. As a race of smiths and jewellers, they preferred to create things that would endure and the thought that the cake wouldn't survive more than a few hours tended to discourage them from baking those.
Bombur had thought it a marvellous idea when the hobbit first suggested it and was more than happy to help Bilbo with the creation of the details. Bilbo had even been able to convince Isembold to help him steal one of Kíli's arrows so that they could make the dragon's death more convincing. Now he found the cake in one of the cold storage closets, with all the tools necessary to turn the faceless pile of sponge-like dough into a dragon.
The red-haired dwarf arrived shortly after and together they worked for several hours, sculpting the dragon's body and covering it with icing. They had decided to use red icing for the dragon's scales, but used small real gems for the belly, making the cake sparkle in candlelight. Bilbo used chocolate to draw the dragon's features and details and was very pleased when the final result had a passable resemblance to the original.
As a final step he took the stolen arrow and pushed it carefully into the dragon's chest, so that the feathery end was visible from all angles. Tired but happy, they closed the door to the storage room and left the cake to sit and wait for its big moment at dinner. After a heartfelt thanks to the hobbit Bombur left to go check on the cooks that were preparing the feast. Bilbo made his way back to his quarters, where the cloak with the unfinished Durin embroidery laid waiting for him. He had been able to sew the anvil and hammer before lunch and now only needed to add the crown and seven stars. Since there was plenty of time until dinner and nobody would miss him, he could take his time with the pattern.
Bilbo managed to finish with half an hour to spare before dinner was supposed to start, so he went back to the kitchen, where he found Bombur pacing nervously, the cake already waiting on its huge silver platter.
"There you are," Bombur exclaimed when he saw Bilbo. "I was beginning to fear you would leave me to present the cake all by myself."
"I thought about it," Bilbo admitted, "but it didn't seem fair to you. If it was up to me, I would gladly let you take all the glory."
"I know," Bombur gave him a smile, "but I would feel like a fraud, passing someone else's work as my own." He gave Bilbo's attire an appreciative once-over. "That's quite the cloak you have there."
"I hope it's appropriately festive for the celebrations," Bilbo said, adjusting the clasp at his neck.
"I think you will fit right in with all the fancy elves," Bombur assured him with a hint of humour.
They spent the next twenty minutes peeking into the great hall and waiting for everyone to take their place. Once the guests were seated, Thorin rose up from his chair and gave a grand speech about the restoration of Erebor and the importance of having good relations with one's neighbours, which Bilbo found highly ironic, given the dwarf's history.
When the king finally sat down to a thunderous applause and the loud sound of goblets banging on the table, Bilbo and Bombur left their hiding place and made their way before the High table. Bilbo gave the nervous dwarf next to him an encouraging smile.
"Your Majesty, dear guests," Bombur started the speech he had spent several days practicing. "As the High Chef of Erebor' kitchens I have taken the liberty to prepare a special surprise for this evening in honour of the event that brought us all here today. With the help of my friend Bilbo Baggins, we have managed to create a special cake to commemorate the occasion. I hope you enjoy it." He made a small bow and stepped to the side, gesturing for the cooks to bring the platter in. The cake was so big that four dwarves had to carry it to avoid dropping it.
Bilbo took a small amount of satisfaction from watching everyone's eyes grow in size when they realized what the cake was. Two of the cooks brought a small wooden table into the middle of the room and the cake-carriers deposited the dragon cake on it, so that everyone had a good view from their seat. Bilbo stepped closer to the High table, bowing to Bard.
"King Bard, since you were the one who had slain the dragon, would you do the honours?"
Bard stood up slowly and walked over to Bilbo, taking the long knife from him with an expression of disbelief. Bilbo gave him one more bow and backed away to go sit in his place at the high table.
"Is that my arrow?" Kíli hissed at him when he sat down.
"Yes. Do you mind?" Bilbo mouthed back. Kíli shook his head. He didn't appear to be angry with Bilbo for using his arrow, so Bilbo let him be and turned his attention to the food in front of him. He hadn't had anything to eat since lunchtime, busy as he had been and he was pleased to find all his favourite foods at the table.
His fellow diners left him alone while he ate, but once he reached for a dessert, they took it as a sign that he was open to conversation. Bilbo spent the rest of the feast answering questions about baking, embroidery and hobbit customs. He was quite relieved when the music started and he had an excuse to hide himself in a corner of the hall under the pretence that he was checking his music notes before he went to sing for the elves.
A shadow fell on him and he turned to find himself face to face with Thorin.
"That's quite an interesting skill you have there, Master Baggins," Thorin told him. Bilbo wasn't sure whether he meant the baking or the embroidery, because the dwarf was giving his cloak an appreciative look.
"It's not of much use in the wild, but for occasions such as these, it comes in handy," Bilbo said, managing to cover both topics at once.
"Why did you do all this?" Thorin gestured towards the cake. "Nobody forced you to create the tapestry, or to bake the cake. Why would you go to all this trouble?"
Bilbo shrugged.
"I like doing these things," he said simply. "You invited me here, but didn't give me anything to do, so I found my own ways to fill the time. This just happens to be one of them."
"It's a peculiar kind of craft," Thorin said.
"Not all craftsmanship lies in weapons and jewellery," Bilbo told him mildly. Thorin gave his cloak one more glance.
"I am beginning to see that."
Before he could say anything else, Kíli made his way over to them, bouncing in excitement.
"That cake is brilliant. I think I can even forgive you for stealing one of my arrows."
"It was for a good cause," Bilbo told him with a playful smile.
"Food is always a good cause," Kíli said. He gave Bilbo a disarming grin and reached out to take Bilbo's hand. "Come, dance with me."
Bilbo took a step back, raising his hands before him like a shield.
"No, thank you. I'm not planning to dance tonight."
Kíli's face clouded with disappointment.
"Why not?"
"I don't know any of these dances." Bilbo lowered his voice. "I won't make a fool of myself on the dance floor by tripping over my cloak because I did not know which direction I'm supposed to turn."
"I could lead you," Kíli extended his hand in invitation.
"I'd rather not risk it," Bilbo said. "And even if I did want to dance, I do not have the time to learn right now. Thranduil is waiting for me. The elves had already requested three different ballads, so I will have my hands full for the evening. If you'll excuse me?" He gave them a polite bow and left to search for the wood elves.
Bilbo spent the next two hours with the elves, singing and listening to their tales and songs. The elves had created their own little enclave in one of the side chambers, away from the dwarves, and appeared to be quite content with their form of entertainment. Bilbo himself was a little surprised when he saw a few members of the company come into the chamber to hear him sing, but didn't pay much attention to them because he was concentrating hard on remembering all the words.
It was nearing midnight when Bilbo returned back to the great hall, where the entertainment appeared to be growing in volume with every consumed goblet of mead. He spied Bard sitting by himself at one of the tables and made his way over to him.
"You do not dance?" he asked the man.
"Not if I can help it," Bard replied. "I saw the tapestry you made for Thorin this afternoon. Impressive work." He turned in his chair towards Bilbo. "Would you be willing to make a tapestry for my hall? I would pay you well. It doesn't have to be anything overly complicated, I would just like to have something nice on my walls."
"I noticed that you turned the dragon into your personal emblem."
"Yes, the people insisted." Bard said. "I had to choose a symbol to represent the newly formed Kingdom of Dale and the dragon seemed like as good a symbol as any."
"I think you chose well," Bilbo told him. "I suppose I could make a dragon for you, but the earliest it can be finished is a year from now. Thorin has already put in a commission for two other tapestries, so I will have my hands full."
Bard gave him a searching look.
"You are going to stay in Erebor, then?"
"So it would seem," Bilbo said with a smile.
"Even with everything that has happened lately?" It seemed that Bard had heard about the latest scandal already.
"Yes."
"In that case I wish you good luck and a great deal of patience." There was a sparkle of humour in Bard's normally sombre eyes when he said that.
"Thank you," Bilbo told him with a smile. "I think I will need both."
"Bilbo!" Kíli appeared behind his back and wrapped an arm around his shoulders with a wide grin. "I think I solved your dancing problem."
He was swaying a little, leaning into Bilbo with most of his body weight. Since Bilbo was nearly a head shorter, it was rather difficult to keep the dwarf on his feet. He finally solved the problem by propping Kíli's back against the table while he put his hands on the dwarf's arms, holding him upright.
"I solved your dancing problem," Kíli repeated, his head falling forward to rest on Bilbo's shoulder. "I am going to teach you to dance." He muttered into the fabric of Bilbo's vest, and reached out to wrap his arms around Bilbo's waist for balance.
The arms were hidden by the cloak, but Bilbo still looked up in alarm, hoping that nobody could see it. After a minute of frantic searching, he finally found Fíli in the crowd and managed to catch his eye, gesturing to Kíli's slumped form with a look of despair. The blond dwarf luckily appeared to be mostly sober and started making his way over to them almost at once.
"What has he done now?" Fíli asked in resignation when he arrived.
"I think he's just drunk," Bilbo told him, sighing in relief when Fíli removed Kíli's weight from him. "He came over here and started to talk about dancing and then just decided to use me as a pillow."
At the mention of dancing Kíli raised his head, focusing his eyes on Bilbo with some difficulty.
"I'm going to give you dancing lessons tomorrow. Will you dance with me at the feast if I teach you?"
"Yes, I will dance with you, if you wish," Bilbo told him to calm down Kíli's drunken agitation.
"I think I should take him to bed before he goes and propositions half the guests," Fíli said and started dragging his brother away.
Bilbo sat down at the table and absentmindedly reached for a goblet of wine. Surely, Kíli had been jesting when he offered the dancing lessons. Or had he?
To be continued...
AN: I am pleased to announce that this story is almost finished. There will be 17 chapters after all, because I adore these characters and want to give them a proper ending (and spend a bit more time with them). There is less than 4000 words left for me to write and a bunch of editing, but other than that, I'm done. Therefore, I will be posting 2 chapters this weekend, one each day so you don't have to wait for so long.
Thank you so much to everyone who commented on or favourited this story :) Your support means a lot to me, especially as this is the first novel-length fic I have been able to finish and I was really nervous about the reception.
Next chapter will be posted on September 26.