A King's Love

Billa's not too sure what to make of Thorin and Fortinbras' sudden comradery when just days ago the dwarf was growling at any Hobbit who grew too near to him. Her heart and her head were already in a muddle about the dwarf, now - with his sweet morning smiles and enthusiasm for bramble tarts - he's quite frankly irresistible.

And to her growing horror, others are noticing.

There's nothing a Hobbit appreciates more than a soul who enjoys good food - and Thorin's reverence for bramble tarts is becoming well-known in Hobbiton. She had to chase off three young Hobbit ladies who were hovering around awaiting the King To Be Under The Mountain and his dour guard, arms laden full of treats. She is going to have to explain food to them and that thought mortifies her, the memories of all the liberties she took during the Quest teasing her mind. Not that they would know any better but still, it plagues Billa.

A gentle smack on her arm brings her back to the moment. She glares up at Kíli as he dances away out of reach with a smirk.

"You're distracted today, Mistress Baggins," Kíli says. "Your guard is so low I'm surprised I can still see it."

She growls at his words and charges. He raises his weapon to meet hers, but she ducks under it, slipping between his legs to pop up behind him. She catches him with a quick smack to the shoulder before bouncing back.

Fíli's laughter booms towards them as Kíli pouts. Billa shoots him a smug look, "Distracted or not, I can still get past you, lad."

Kíli barely gives her a moment before he moves. He's lighter on his feet than Noid and she has to keep on her toes to continually dodge his attacks. His preferred weapon may be the bow but the young dwarf is better trained in most combat than Billa is, discounting the bits and pieces she picked up from Dwalin on the road in another life. She's yet to convince the surly guard to spar with her yet, but she's close to wearing him down, a cheese pie or two should seal the deal.

For now though, Billa moves to Kíli's right, forcing the lad to shift his weight, and abruptly changes to his left, slipping through his defence to whack him on the side with her small wooden sword. He stumbles back in surprise and probably would have recovered - had his foot not slipped in the mud at the last second.

Kíli grabs the edge of Billa's tunic as he falls, taking Billa down with him. She squeaks in surprise as they topple into the mud, the damp ground splashing up at them. They share a startled look, before they both burst into peals of laughter.

"Billa!" A cry comes from their right. She turns to see Thorin loping towards them, that damn concerned expression flickering across his face. Billa sighs, he really is an impressive specimen of a dwarf.

He slows beside them, Fíli on his heels, gaze roving over the both of them, "Are you both well?"

Billa beams at him, "We're well. It is not the first time we have taken a tumble during sparring, fortunately."

"We're always careful, Uncle," Kíli adds.

Fíli nods, patting his uncle on the shoulder, "Billa may be small but she's fierce and can be tricksy if we don't pay attention."

Thorin weighs up their words and nods, "I see."

Billa moves to sit up, balancing her arms on her bent knees as she peers up at the dwarf, "What brings you out this way anyway?"

"Fortinbras asked to meet to discuss some further trade agreements."

"How is that going?" She asks curiously. Her hand runs through her sticky, mud-streaked curls. They are getting long again, she would probably need to cut them soon.

"Well," the King To Be Under The Mountain says. "We should have everything in order within a day or so."

Billa's heart sinks, "Good. That is good to hear."

Would they leave? After everything is signed and in place? She imagines Thorin cannot stay for long, winter is coming; the air is already turning nippy and the piles of autumn leaves that she loves so much are quickly disappearing. She knows he cannot be away from his people for that long.

A hand suddenly appears in her vision. She glances up to see Thorin, standing over her with a small smile - or what she knows to be a Thorin smile, the slight twitch of his otherwise straight lips. She takes the offered hand and he hauls her up to her feet with ease.

"Thank you," she breathes.

"I am at your service, Mistress Baggins."

She offers him a gentle smile. His expression is stoic but she can see the mirth and joy twinkling in his gaze, it makes his eyes almost molten like the rushing streams of the Brandywine in the summer. It warms her from her head to her Hobbity toes, and she barely resists the urge to squirm with delight.

"Shall we see you for dinner, Uncle?" Fíli's voice pulls her attention back, and her dwarf steps back, placing space between them. He turns to his sister-son with a nod.

"It's fish pie," she says breathily. Another of his favourites, she knows. "With my special pastry."

"I look forward to it," he inclines his head, and then he turns to clap his kin on their shoulders. "Behave."

"Of course, Uncle!" Kíli chirps, as Fíli nods.

Thorin spares Billa one last glance before he turns his back on them and ambles off towards Hobbiton. She heaves a sigh, appreciating the push and pull of his broad muscles under the rich blue tunic he is wearing today. She's noticed that he only ever wears his jacket or his tunic, and nothing else and she wonders distantly if Thorin owns any jumpers and if he would accept one from her.

"Billa."

The amused tone cuts through her thoughts and she turns to face two gleeful dwarves staring her down.

"What?"

"You like Uncle," Kíli says excitedly. Fíli nudges him in the ribs with a sharp warning look. Kíli grunts, but his face remains bright and hopeful.

Mahal.

"I do like your Uncle," she replies diplomatically. "He is a very respectable dwarf and I would consider him a friend."

Kíli groans, "That's not what I meant!"

"I am afraid I am not quite sure what you meant."

"Billa," Kíli moans. "Come on, we know you like like him."

"I have just told you I like him," she replies, trying to keep her tone firm. Elves and Dragons, has she been that obvious?

You've been practically throwing yourself at him, a small part of mind whispers, hussy.

She wallops those thoughts away, her heart racing in her chest. Billa Baggins is no hussy, she's just a Hobbit who can only handle so much temptation after decades of loneliness.

"Mistress Baggins," Fíli interrupts her internal spiralling. "Do not mistake Kíli's teasing for disapproval."

Billa chews on her thumbnail, eyes darting between the two brothers. Fíli is trying to appear serious but she can see the excitement rolling off him in waves. She tucks a note away in the back of her mind to speak to Dwalin about teaching the boys to hide what they are thinking.

"If anyone deserves some attention it is Uncle."

"I…" she shuffles, "He's just so urgh."

The two dwarves blink at her. Fíli coughs, and then asks, "Urgh?"

"Yes," she nods her head frantically. "Tall and stoic and strong. He gets this look on his face when he looks at me sometimes, like I'm the only thing that exists and a poor Hobbit can only take so much attention before it starts to affect them, you see. Now I can't stop looking and oh I'm so embarrassed you noticed but I can't help myself and-"

The two dwarves burst into laughter.

She scowls and stomps her foot, "Stop it. It's not funny!"

"Oh but it is, Mistress Baggins," Fíli says. She crosses her arms and pouts as they continue to laugh, waiting for them to get it all out of their system.

Eventually, their laughter pitters out.

Fíli's face is mostly sober, when he says, "You should tell Uncle how you feel."

Billa's face flushes brightly and rapidly shakes her head. Tell the King To Be Under the Mountain that she has feelings for him? No. Not happening.

The brothers exchange a serious look. "Billa," Fíli says, his face as stoic as his Uncle's, "I would bet my braids that Uncle would reciprocate your feelings."

Billa can't withhold the snort that erupts from her, "Me? The future King Under The Mountain would have feelings for me?"

Both dwarves startle.

"King?" Kíli squeaks, "You know?"

"Of course I know! I've been travelling in and around Bree for almost half a decade, do you honestly think word wouldn't have reached there about Thorin?"

"You never said anything."

She shrugs, "Would it have made much of a difference? You may be the Line of Durin, but you're also my friends," she pauses thoughtfully. "Unless you want me to change how I act towards you?"

Both lads rapidly shake their heads, "No, that's quite alright, Mistress Baggins."

She smiles at them.

"You know," she says slowly. "I've seen your Uncle before."

"You have?"

"Just once. In Bree. I was staying there on a walking holiday when word reached The Prancing Pony that a renowned Dwarven Smith had arrived in town. He was travelling under a moniker, but when I saw him I knew it was him. I went to the forge to commission a piece. I got all the way to the door, and I saw him, labouring over his work," she sighs. "I didn't go in."

"Why?"

"I was young. Scared." Still recovering from travelling decades back into the past and coming to terms with the fact that the only soul she had ever loved was alive once more. "He looked so majestic and powerful. I watched for a while before I left, hied it back home the next day."

"So you could say," Kíli says with a thoughtful rub of his scruffy chin, "You've loved Uncle for years."

"Love!" Billa splutters, "Who said anything about love!"

"You didn't have to," Fíli replies. "It's written all over your face."

"No, it is not!"

"Yes, it is," Kíli says indignantly.

Her mouth shuts with an audible click. She's not falling for that. Instead, she scowls up at the cheeky lads, "Love doesn't matter anyway. Your Uncle will never be interested in a simple Hobbit lass like myself, and that's that."

"Billa Baggins!" Kíli cries astonished, "How could you say such a thing? Of course, love matters!"

Billa almost sneers at him; it's on the tip of her tongue to say that love had propelled her to chase after an unattainable dwarf halfway across Middle Earth and left her with nothing but a broken heart and an empty house. Instead, she sniffs primly, "It doesn't when one is a King."

"Thorin is not that kind of King," Fíli says with a shake of his head. In a flash, Thorin's furious face as he shook her out over the ramparts, his body gilded in gold and heavy armour, his rage so visceral she almost died on the spot when faced with the force of it.

In another life, Thorin was that King. Regal, but undignified and driven by deluded notions of grandeur. And try as she might, she can't quite shake off the feeling he might once again become that dwarf, which scares her more than anything.

She sighs, "What do I know, I'm but an old maid."

"But-" She barely notices Fíli slapping a hand over Kíli's mouth with an aggressive shake of his head.

Billa runs a hand through her curls, "I should be getting on, lads. Shall I see you for dinner?"

"Yes, Mistress Baggins," Fíli says amicably. "Do let us know if you need anything before then though. We shall be here. Sparring."

Kíli frowns under Fíli's hand but says nothing. She smiles, then turns to walk back to Bag End. She needs a nap and then maybe some quality time in her kitchen, something to shake off this sudden sorrow.