TA 2935
Two weeks after the dwarves first arrived in The Shire, Billa finds herself sitting on the bench outside Bag End, watching the sun set.
The evening is quiet, save for the joyful cries of playful fauntlings. Billa inhales her pipe deeply, allowing the pipeweed to fill her lungs, before she exhales. Her breath rises in a cloud of smoke towards the faintly twinkling stars in the sky.
It has been a successful, but busy few weeks, and Billa Baggins can't help but pat herself on the back for a job well done. She enticed some dwarves to Hobbiton, introduced her fellow Hobbits to new trade and ensured the aforementioned dwarves were well fed and rested. Why Billa is so beside herself with joy she could have done a wee jig right there and then. In fact she already has, multiple times, much to the confusion of her guests.
'Mistress Baggins!'
The Hobbit turns to see her stoutly friend making his way towards her, 'Master Bimor, good evening, is it not!'
'It is indeed,' he grins. He gestures to the empty space beside her, 'Do ye mind if I join ye?'
'Of course not! Sit, sit!' She shuffles up to allow the dwarf to perch beside her. Once he's settled, she takes another puff of her pipe with a satisfied sigh.
Bimor raises an eyebrow at her and she grins, 'What? A Hobbit lass isn't allowed her own vices?'
He shrugs, and settles back to stare up at the purpling sky.
'I imagine,' he begins, 'ye know exactly what I'm going to say next.'
Billa blinks, 'You cannot possibly be hungry, my friend, you refused another helping at supper.'
Bimor laughs, the deep sound booming across the quiet night air. Billa is confused by his sudden amusement, and scowls at him, 'What?'
'Do Hobbits ever think of anything but food?'
'Why of course! There's ale, and song, and gardening, and flowers, and,' she blusters, 'and ale!'
Bimor snorts and shakes his head, 'Mistress Baggins, I promise the meal ye provided today was ample enough to feed an entire dwarven army.'
She huffs, 'It is not my fault your appetites cannot keep up with mine.'
'Noid has certainly put a lot of effort into trying to keep up with ye, Mistress Baggins,' Bimor chortles. 'I fear for the lad who one day manages to match yer appetite.'
Billa's thoughts flash to Thorin, and the food they shared all those years ago deep within the Elven King's caves. She wondered over the years if he knew the meaning behind sharing food like that in Hobbit customs. But she always quickly dismissed the thought; even if had, he thought her male. The whole company had.
She shakes away the memory and smiles at Bimor, 'I've yet to meet such a lad.'
Bimor smiles back. Then he exhales, 'Lass, I've come tae tell ye that it's time for us to be moving on.'
'Oh,' Billa says. Disappointment pools in the pit of her stomach, 'Already?'
'Indeed,' he nods. 'We must travel back tae our families in the Blue Mountains. We've been away too long.'
'I see.'
'So what's next?'
Billa stares up at the mirthful dwarf beside her, 'Next?'
'Aye, have ye no plan in mind for this trade yer opening up between our peoples?'
Billa splutters, 'I–uh…'
'Come on, lass, I'm no daft. Ye have a plan, do ye not?'
She shifts uncomfortably and then she nods. Is she really that transparent?
'Well goan, tell me.'
'I,' she hesitates, 'I suppose you spread the word on your journey home, and then hopefully return.'
'Aye, we'll be back, lass, no need tae fret about that,' Bimor says. 'We've already sent word to the kin we left in Bree, they'll be here in a few days. We'll leave once they're arrived and settled. Besides,' he shoots her a wide smirk, 'We'll need tae be back for Noid, or his Ma will have my beard. Magnus ye can keep, free of charge.'
Billa blinks, her brain struggling to turn over the information Bimor has imparted, 'Kin? Here? Wait, Noid?'
'Aye, he's got his eye on that Boffin lass. He won't leave 'till he's claimed her heart.'
'It's her apple crumble, isn't it?'
'Oh, no doubt about that, lass,' he laughs.
Billa sighs, 'Well, I suppose I better get some more rooms ready and warn Fortinbras,' she pauses. 'How many of your kin should we expect?'
'Oh at least a whole caravan, I expect,' Bimor muses. 'And there's at least one dwarf amongst them who could rival a Hobbit's appetite. Ye better gird yerself, lass.'
A sparkling feeling fizzles in Billa's chest that could rival even the best of Gandalf's fireworks. A dwarf that could rival a Hobbit's appetite, it couldn't be, could it? A slow smile spreads across her face, 'Oh you've seen nothing yet, Master Bimor.'
His eyes widen at the bright look that's shining from the wee Hobbit, 'I'm no gonna lie, lass, yer kind of terrifying.'
'Why thank you!' She beams, 'I think that's the best compliment I've ever received.'
'I'm no sure I meant it as a compliment.'
Billa shrugs, 'I'll take it nonetheless.'
A companionable silence falls between them as they watch the dying sun swallowed by bruising violets and midnight blues.
'Bimor?'
'Aye, lass?'
'Thank you.'
He turns his gaze on the wee lass with a raised eyebrow, 'What fer?'
'For talking to me at The Prancing Pony,' she says quietly. 'And for being my friend.'
He gives her shoulder a quick squeeze, 'It's been my pleasure, Mistress Baggins.'
#
'On yer left, lass!'
Billa dodges at the last possible second, ducking under the sharp blade whistling straight towards her head. She rolls and quickly jumps to her feet just as her opponent starts forwards again. Noid spins his twin blades slowly, gaze tracking her every movement.
Suddenly, he dashes towards her, his arm thrusting out in a powerful strike.
She moves, allowing the blade to slip past her nose by inches and Noid's left side to remain wide open. She takes the opportunity and strikes, her wooden sword whipping out to smack against Noid's bum before she dashes away again.
The dwarf's face flushes as the nearby crowd howls in glee. Billa smothers a grin, trying to remain focused on her opponent's movements. Noid is a fierce fighter, but he's no match for a taciturn Dwalin. Even now, in the back of her mind, she can hear the fierce Dwarven warrior shouting at her to move, by the Maker!
Noid scowls darkly at her, and then his lips part in a bloodthirsty smirk, 'Think yer funny, eh, lass?'
Billa allows herself a minute shrug, 'Master Bimor told you a number of times about that left side of yours. Not my fault you didn't listen.'
His face flushes even darker and he whips forward. Keep moving! Dwalin shouts in her head; she bounces back quickly on her toes, bobbing and weaving away from Noid's frantic strikes until he comes to an abrupt halt, his chest heaving.
'Is that all you got?'
Noid's gaze flickers to her right, where she's sure an enraptured Maisy Boffin is no doubt standing next to the watchful Bimor. When Noid asked her last night about sparring today, she knew he was planning on parading himself in front of Maisy. She also knew that Maisy would undoubtedly be there, given the heavy sighs and googly eyes she's been shooting the dwarf across the marketplace for the last two days. It is enough to make any Hobbit sick to their stomach.
But Billa, well, she's always been a bit of a romantic sop and a heartsick fool herself; her agreement to disguise herself as a male and join the quest to Erebor because a strong, commanding King with smouldering blue eyes told her about his dream to reclaim his home is a case in point.
A thundering of footsteps draws her from her thoughts and she barely hops back in time to avoid the sharp edge of Noid's right blade. She splutters, cartwheeling her arms as she tilts back. Move lass!
There's a cry from the crowd–and is it just her imagination or have they just grown louder? Who knew the Hobbits could be so bloodthirsty.
'Billa?' Noid grunts in front of her. 'Ye okay?'
She grins and surges forward to whack him on the leg. She can hear Bimor's cackle over the diminished cries of the crowd and she barely resists the urge to do an excitable shimmy.
'What do you think?' She teases, rapidly backing up.
Then Noid is moving, mirthful vengeance on his face and all it takes is that one look for her to turn tail and run squealing, wooden sword forgotten as her Hobbit feet pound against the mud. Noid's thundering charges booms from behind her and a bright laugh escapes her.
'Come on, lass, move!'
The voice cracks through the roar of the spectators and straight to her brain. She stumbles, just as Noid manages to reach her and the two crash into each other. Billa Baggins of the Shire, gracious as ever, eats dirt.
Noid lands on her with a heavy thump and they both groan loudly.
'Get off me, you great galoot!'
'Ye tripped me, ye menace!'
Eventually, she manages to elbow him off her just in time for Bimor to come to an abrupt halt before them.
'Mistress Baggins, are ye okay?'
'I'm fine!' She gasps, blessed air filling her lungs as she sits up on her elbows. Noid groans beside her and she turns to face him. They both burst into peals of laughter.
'I think they're fine,' Bromor huffs as he draws up beside Bimor. The older dwarf shakes his head with a sigh and rolls his eyes heavenward as if to ask the Valar to save him from their stupidity.
Noid eventually stumbles to his feet, half gasping for air, just as a concerned looking Maisy Boffin finally reaches them. Her hands are everywhere, eyes darting from one side of the dwarf to the other as his face grows more and more heated.
Billa's giggles slow as her heart warms at the sight.
It's only then that she allows her gaze to move towards the small crowd of spectators that gathered around their fight. She tries to tell herself that she just imagined it, even as her heart leaps hopefully into her throat.
Her gaze stops. She hasn't imagined it.
A wide grin blossoms across her face, much to the confusion of the two dwarves at her side.
For there, on the other side of the field, is Dwalin.