An Uncomfortable Truth
It is a firm knock on the door of Bag End that disrupts Billa's daydreaming of the soon-to-be King Under The Mountain. She looks up from the papers scattered across her desk, mapping timelines, key events, and friends she is yet to meet.
Thorin has been at the forefront of her mind for days now. Every time she thinks she's managed to shake him off, other small thoughts return, things she was sure she banished to the deep recesses of her mind decades ago; how he was the only one who drank the dishwater that masqueraded as coffee during the Quest, his eyes crinkling in delight after she recounted Kíli's various mischiefs in the caves of the Elven King, how she longed to smooth the furrows in his brow when he scowled at his nephews, his rapidly cooling hand against hers as he died, how her words jammed in her throat and she was unable to reveal her true feelings even as he lay dying.
Another brisk knock follows the second.
Billa sighs, pushes her papers into the top drawer of her desk and marches to the door. Meddlesome dwarves, did she not say she was not to be disturbed this morning? Kíli and Noid were unrelenting in their attempts to have her join them and Maisy at the Green Dragon, one final drink before Kíli's family arrived; she only managed to get them to leave after promising to meet them later.
She checks her clock as she putters towards the door, and instantly scowls. Why, they barely left her alone for an hour. They may be older than her, but they still fail to understand that Billa is a middle-aged Hobbit with various adult tasks that need doing. She can't drop everything to run after them.
But isn't that what you did in your original life? A small part of her whispers gleefully, drop everything to run after a King? She bats it away and throws open the door, "I already told you two-"
But instead of the mischievous dwarves, Billa is met by the sight of a sombre Fortinbras.
"We need to talk."
Her cousin is serious, his gaze steady on her, and her stomach drops to the bottom of her hairy toes.
"Alright," Billa says hesitantly, "Come in."
Her cousin follows her to the kitchen, where he sits at the table.
"Can I offer you anything? Tea, coffee, some cake? It's not long until lunch but I suppose I could-"
Fortinbras' hand on hers halts her mid sentence. He gives her a stern look, "Billa, sit."
"What?" She sits down opposite him. "What's happened?"
"Nothing has happened. You ran away the other day."
"Maybe I should get us a pot of tea-" Billa springs to her feet, but Fort stops her.
"You know when you left the first time on that long adventure of yours, we just assumed there were too many memories here," Fort is pensive, his gaze fixed beyond the small window of her smial on the rolling green hills of The Shire. "My Father said to let you go, that you'd work it out of your system, the way all Tooks do.
"Then you came back, months later, looking like death, and we thought that's it, she's had her taste of adventure, she'll settle down now. Then six months later, you were gone again, and then three months after that, and then again four months after that. This time you bring those dwarves back with you and it's the first time I've thought that maybe your wandering wasn't quite as aimless as you kept saying it was."
"Fort, I-"
"Then Kíli mentions a brother and an uncle, and you go rigid," Billa's eyes widen. "Then he says they're coming here and you flee like the sky is going to fall on your head."
Fort turns his gaze on Billa, "Do you know them? The brother and the uncle?"
"No."
"Do you know who Kíli is?" Fort asks. "Or rather what?"
"Do you?"
"Of course I do, I'm the next Thain," Fort replies shortly. "Do you?"
Billa hesitates, and then nods, "Yes."
"How?"
It's on the tip of her tongue to tell her cousin everything. The Quest, her journey to the Lonely Mountain and back, Prim and Drogo's death, Frodo, the One Ring, her death, the secrets she's been keeping to herself for the last four years. But the words get jammed in her throat.
Instead she says, "I knew a dwarf."
Fort raises an eyebrow, "So do I, thanks to you-"
"No, I mean," she exhales, "I met a dwarf on one of my…adventures."
"Oh," Fort says. Billa fiddles under the weight of his stare, keeping her gaze averted. It's not quite a lie, not quite a truth, but she hopes it will settle her cousin's curiosity. Then his eyes widen, "Oh. Did you…did you love them?"
She tries not to wince at the direct question. Had she loved Thorin? Yes. Unequivocally until the end. Even after his death, no one else could reclaim the small portion of heart that she gave willingly to him, except maybe Frodo but that had been different. Whether that love was returned? Well, she'll never know.
"No," Billa says, her thoughts, not for the first time in recent days, lingering on the taciturn dwarf she once knew. "I cared for them a great deal, but there wasn't enough time for it to grow beyond that. He died."
"My apologies."
"There's no need. It's in the past now," Billa says. "But Th-the dwarf. He told me a lot about his culture. He came from Erebor originally, and later from Ered Luin. That's how I know about Kíli. In fact, Kíli reminds me a lot of him."
"And the future King Under the Mountain?"
She shrugs, "The news reminded me of what I lost. Or rather, what I could have had."
A heavy silence falls between them. Billa gnaws on her thumbnail, trying to keep her gaze from Fort's.
"Will the arrival of these dwarves be an issue, cousin?" Fort asks. "Because we can arrange for them to stay somewhere else-"
"No, it's fine, I promise." Billa smiles, "Besides, I'm no wilting flower, I looked past my grief to Bimor and Bromor, then to Noid, and now Dwalin and Kíli. I'll be able to do the same with his family."
Fort nods.
A loud knock on the door draws their attention.
"Billa!"
Billa sighs at the sound of the loud shout. Fort looks amused, and crosses his fingers over his large stomach, "It would appear you have guests."
She scowls and mutters an oath under her breath, those dwarves have no manners. Another knock comes along with another cry of her name. She rises and stomps towards the door.
She pulls it open to reveal Noid and Kíli and -
"Prim?"
The wee hobbit bounces on her toes with a bright smile, a tiny wooden sword in one hand, "Cousin Billa! You have to come with us!"
She settles a dark look on the dwarves, who at least have the decency to look abashed, "I'm sorry, Prim, but I have tasks that-"
"But! But Kíli said he didn't believe you almost beat Noid!" Prim tugs on Billa's hand. "He said there was no way you could keep up with his swords!"
Billa narrows her eyes on a sheepish Kíli, "Did he now?"
"Come on, Cousin Billa. You can beat him easy, I know it!"
Billa casts a glance over the two dwarves - Noid smirking and Kíli gaze averted - and exhales heavily, "Fine."
Prim cheers, and the sight warms Billa's heart. It has been difficult at times, seeing her cousin so young and carefree again, to not be reminded of her and her husband's terrible fate and of Frodo, small and pale, the light bleeding from him before her very eyes.
"I'll need to get dressed first, so why don't you take Masters Noid and Kíli down to the fields."
Prim grasps the dwarves before they can react and pulls them down Bagshot Row. Billa allows the small grin to slip across her face as she inhales the quiet of Hobbiton; the clear sky stretches for miles, broken only by the grey cloud on the horizon and the tops of the green hills. The sun beats down, golden, on the small village.
"You know," Fort's voice comes as he approaches her quietly, "It looks like it's going to rain."
"I know," she smiles.
"Are you going to warn them?"
"No," she says. "Surely proud dwarven warriors such as themselves can deal with a little rain and mud."
Fort takes in the little gleam in her eye and laughs.
...
a/n: double update again so please go back and catch the last chapter if you missed it.
Thanks so much for the love on the last chapter, you all gave me a good giggle and I'm so happy you're enjoying this story so far! I've literally just finished writing the BIG scene, which y'all are going to have to wait for, sorry not sorry.
Next week:
Dwalin will be annoyed when he sees that he has shed his guards in favour of reaching the village faster, but he cannot find it within himself to care. All he can think about is that his Hobbit is potentially within reach.
