KEYnote: I've decided that gender for hobbits is arbitrary to reproduction. To my AO3 reviewers, would you be interested in Bilbo and Thorin having faunts? And do you have a preferred method?

P.S. This also just reshaped beyond the Hobbit and into the Lord of the Rings, please enjoy!

Chapter 14 - To Seduce a King

Dís fell onto his bed, "You know, for someone who earned himself a fortune, you seem awfully depressed."

Thorin sighed, pulling his arm away from his face to look at her, "You cannot tell Frerin."

Her eyes lit up with excitement, "Tell him what?"

"Promise, Dís."

"I promise," she said instantly, curling into his side as if she were an excitable pebble again waiting for a bedtime story or song.

He let his hand fall to brush her hair back from her face, "I found my One."

She gasped, sitting up to lean over him, "When can I meet them?"

"You won't be meeting him."

She pouted at him, "Seems unlikely. Surely you can arrange to visit the Iron Hills when–"

"He's a hobbit."

She blinked, "A hobbit?"

"Bilbo Baggins."

She smiled, "No wonder you spoke so highly of him."

"He's incredible."

"So are you."

"He can't move to Ered Luin, Dís. We couldn't afford to feed him and his pebbles."

Her smile fell, "But, he's your One."

"It's enough to know him."

"Liar."

He sighed, "It has to be. Besides, hobbits don't have Ones. And his family is large, Dís. Their pebbles could eat us out of the mountain."

Dís flopped back down beside him, "Nothing comes easy, does it?"

He sighed, turning to pull her into a hug. It was rare he asked for comfort, but his sister would understand.

"You'll see him in the spring," she coaxed, she held him close.

"I made enough, we don't need the money."

"We always will, and there will come a year when you can't be spared. This is not that year. Enjoy what time you have with your One."

He squeezed her tight, "I love you, Namadith."

oOo

Estur daughter of Bifur knew that her father worried for her.

How could he not? She worried.

She had apprenticed in the Iron Hills to be a plumber.

Did they have plumbing in Ered Luin? Yes, but the aqueducts were stone and could not be tampered with because of how ancient they were.

The settlement in the Iron Hills, while tightly packed with even fewer resources outside their territory due to lack of trade, had modern everything.

If you wanted to learn how to be good in hydro-engineering, the Iron Hills with its indoor and sewage system that filtered itself through layers of sediment that naturalised contamination was the place to be.

But there was no work for her Adad in the Iron Hills.

And if you wanted to work in the Iron Hills mines, then you had to be a part of the guilds. Her father had speech impediments and a few cognitive lapses that meant he would never be chosen.

Her cousins, though she called them her uncles, couldn't come either, Bofur because he needed to remain with Bifur and Bombur had pebbles to be minding.

Estur's amad hadn't survived giving birth to her, which her adad told over and over again was not her fault and that either of them would give their lives for hers.

However, it always felt like there was an empty seat at the table. So when an opportunity arose, Estur had set her heart on following her dreams.

Until, that was, the call for the march to Moria went.

She had begged her not to go, still, he went, saying that it was his king's command.

And she would not be left behind. Despite her young age, she had joined as a part of the aid after the battle, thinking she could help the wounded.

But they lacked the resources to for the wounded, and the dead grew beyond the count of grief.

All for a King whose madness had called down a dragon from the north. It had not grieved Estur at all when she learned that King Thror had been beheaded. Only disgust that King Thrain had run away, leaving their heir with the moniker Oakenshield and the sorrows of their people.

Estur had been furious with her adad; We are Blue Mountain dwarrow, we owed them nothing.

Her father had smiled even as an ax was removed from his head, War ne bou– king, er follow, dis bout te dwarrow besid ye.

In truth, the healers said it would be unlikely he would survive his injuries and blood loss when they took the axe from his skull. She had held his hand through wee hours of the morning.

When he survived his wounds that night and the nights to follow, she couldn't handle the resentment.

Not all of Adad had returned back to her.

So when the encampment moved, she went east as her father and uncles returned home to the west.

She had been little more than a child then. Now that she was seventy-seven, and having passed her apprenticeship, she felt the call of home.

The trip was odious, travelling south through the winter was a missed bag at best. Though she kne it was better than risking travel through the elven realm, No one wanted to go through Mirkwood. Instead, she and a small party of dwarrow travelled south toward the Gap of Rohan.

"Is it just me, or have the men gotten meaner?" she asked as they were leaving the lands above Gondor.

"It's not just you lass," her guide said.

They were travelling with carts to carry many raw goods, mostly metals and furs to support Ered Luin.

Which meant they were slower, their ponies and mules, steadfast but dragging out the miles.

Which made the veritable army of horsemen who sprang out of the horizon on their long-legged steeds terrifying.

The spears that were pointed at them did not lower when they explained who they were and their purpose.

She kept the words the horsemen whispered to them close to her heart, holding onto her hope in the dungeons of Roharrim.

"We are sorry," the men told them. "But we must do as our king commands."

Estur found herself in the peculiar circumstances of praying that her own king would come to save them. That the line of Thror, Dragon Bringing, would help them, was cold comfort in the men's rank dungeons.

oOo

Fíli was not a miner, but the mountain, these mountains still sang to him.

He didn't bother cleaning up his work station at the forge as he put a hand on the wall.

Dwalin had stood at Fíli's abrupt movement.

He looked up to meet the older dwarf's gaze, "Is this what a cave in feels like?"

Dwalin's eyes widened, but he didn't hesitate to call the alarm.

oOo

Thorin wrapped an arm around his sister-son, pressing their foreheads together, "You saved them, namadinùdoy."

It was nothing short of miraculous that Fíli had sensed the cave in so soon. Or perhaps it wasn't.

In his absence, Fíli was not accustomed to the growing pains of the mountains, and where the warning signs in the song of the mountain most had tuned out, Fíli remained sensitive.

Mahal had truly blessed his youngest sister-son with his stone-sense.

Ered Luin was old, and while their metal weapons, tools, and trinkets were infamous for surviving the centuries, mountains were not dead thing.

They grew, they breathed, they lived, and as with all things, they changed, especially when you carved into them.

It wasn't the mines that failed them, the mines that they had painstakingly reinforced even if it cut dramatically into the ability to export in trade.

No, it was the old district that centuries upon centuries of Blue Mountain Dwarrow had called home that had collapsed.

Thanks to Fíli, they had had enough time to evacuate everyone, even enough time for those dwarrow to grab some of their heirlooms.

Yet today was another unhappy event in a long line of tragedies that had struck their people in this age.

Sacrifices were made in the coming days, Oin, Gloin, and Gloin's beautiful family moved into their apartment.

Fíli, Kíli, and Gimli took the smallest room, Oin moved in with Balin and Dwalin, while Dís, Frerin, and Thorin now shared a room so Gloin and his wife could have a room to themselves.

The Ur's moved in with the Ri's.

Their households were hardly the most packed, however.

Thorin saw the pinch his people were feeling. He couldn't help but feel like the world was growing smaller for dwarrow.

One thing was for certain, they couldn't continue like this, not forever.

oOo

Bilbo Baggins was rather flustered as the first yellow crocuses and snowdrops bloomed from the thawing earth.

Thorin was coming back this year.

Saradoc had taken great pleasure in laughing at him, like the little devil he was.

Paladin, Eglantine, and Esmeralda were far more sympathetic. Frodo was the oldest among the tweens. In fact, he no longer a tween who would be turning thirty-three this autumn, dutifully helped Bilbo as he refreshed the guest room and cleaned up the forge.

Frodo was a good lad, quiet but filled with kindness and a wisdom beyond his years.

Like Bilbo, however, he was caught between his Baggins nature in wanting to stay home and take care of those around him, and his Tookish side that called to the wide beyond.

Bilbo had half a mind to take Frodo on an adventure to visit Elrond, but the road was more dangerous even with an envoy.

Besides, Glorfindel wouldn't be there.

And Bilbo had no intention of travelling with a faunt to Mirkwood.

"Uncle Bilbo," Frodo began as they were reshelving ointments.

Bilbo hummed in answer.

"Are you going to have more children?"

Bilbo nearly dropped the jar in his hands, "Frodo!"

"Dwarrow don't have many faunts, do they?"

Bilbo carefully put the jar on the shelf, "Frodo, Thorin isn't staying with us, not forever."

"Would you adopt?" Frodo asked.

Bilbo turned to fully face him, "Are there not enough faunts in the smial to keep you entertained?"

Frodo shrugged, "I'm just– worried about you. You're a good uncle, but you look sad any time someone says 'dah'. The family would support you, even if your Heartsong isn't involved."

Bilbo closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to purge the image of what Thorin would look like cradling their faunt in his arms.

He had failed Fíli.

And he couldn't split either of their families by creating another little life caught between two worlds.

"I wouldn't want to be a father without a romantic partner," Bilbo said.

Not again, went unsaid.

Frodo fidgeted, looking down at his feet, "I'm sorry."

Bilbo tsked, walking around boxes to pull the lad into a hug. "Don't ever doubt your place in my heart. I've loved you since your birth. I am so proud to be your uncle. And I am honoured, despite our grief, to see you through your tweens."

Frodo hugged back tightly, "I love you, Uncle Bilbo."

He hugged the lad even tighter, "And I you, my dearest Frodo."

Their moment was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Frodo pulled back first and Bilbo straighted his own waistcoat before walking up the hall.

It was midafternoon, the other faunts were out playing, tea time having already passed in what daylight remained.

But it was still early for a visitor he was hoping for.

Yet Thorin was among his only visitors who would bother knocking.

When Bilbo opened the door, he found no dwarf but two big folk.

Four of his favourite big folk.

Bilbo smiled, "Lady Arwen, Estel, and you wee devils."

Elladan and Elrohir sniggered as Arwen dropped to a knee to pull him into a hug.

Bilbo stepped back to let them in and made introductions to Frodo who had followed him.

"Now, what brings you lot here?" Bilbo asked, smiling.

He did not like the answer.

oOo

"You want me to seduce a king?"

"We think you would be rather good at it," Estel said cheekily.

"Why would the King of Rohan listen to me, a mere hobbit, and not you, the future King of Gondor?" Bilbo asked.

"First," Estel said. "I may never be king. Secondly, I cannot tell anyone outside you and elves who I am. And third, you are not just a hobbit, your Bilbo Baggins."

Bilbo gave him an unimpressed look. "You have three perfectly capable elves with you, Estel. You don't need anything from me."

"He won't see us, not the Rangers, not the elves, but the hobbit who once the Roherrim saw in their markets who refused to meet with the king when invited?"

"Why is this important?" Bilbo asked.

"Because a darkness clouds King Thengel's mind, he no longer listens to his advisors, nor his wife, nor his children. Now he has stopped and imprisoned a small caravan of dwarrow from the Iron Hills."

Bilbo massaged his temples, he looked up when he felt a tug on his sleeve.

Frodo looked at him with wary hope, "May I come with you, please?"

Bilbo sighed and he looked back at Estel who knew he had won.

But as far as adventures went, he trusted these four to keep his nephew safe.

"Well, we couldn't be Mad Baggins if we stayed home all of the time. Go pack your things and write Sam a note, we'll send it back when we've passed Bree."

Arwen raised her brows, "That's a bit fast, isn't it?"

"I'd ask you to stay for supper, but then we'd half a dozen faunts tagging along," Bilbo explained.

oOo

Being the lightest among the big folk, Arwen took Bilbo on her beautiful and very tall white horse.

Frodo rode with Estel and his chestnut mare.

Their journey, for the most part, was unremarkable.

Paladin sent a very annoyed letter with the return magpie which he ended with a 'thank you'.

Had Bilbo delayed at all, the other faunts would not have let them journey without issue.

Neither the Tooks nor the Brandybucks could have let such chaos go unheeded. Nor would have Frodo's Sam. The two were inseparable.

But Bilbo would not be bringing any tweens through the gap of Rohan.

Bilbo hadn't been east in years. He got to see for himself the growing darkness.

They didn't actually go into Bree, but the farmers they passed toiled over near barren soil. Rohan was south of the Shire, their winters weren't as long.

Spring should have been yielding to summer, but the closer to the Misty Mountains they drew, the more the sickness became apparent to him.

Along the way, Estel, Arwen, and the twins regalled Frodo with tales that not even Bilbo knew. They spoke solely in Sindarin and during the weeks of travel, Frodo grew close to fluent.

The six of them stayed close at night and Frodo quickly learned to dislike lembas bread for they did not stop to hunt or forage save for the rest of the horses.

Luckily for them, the grass was not so corrupted by the shadow cast upon the lands as to be poisoned or unedible to them.

They were all relieved when they reached Rohan and the palace guard welcomed them gladly when they spotted Bilbo.

Bilbo had never met King Thengel, though he had seen a few of his children running about the market place a time or two. Had they stayed in Rohan longer, they might have been close friends of Fíli's who they always had time to spare a kind word. Though that had been nearly a decade ago.

Bilbo kept a firm hold on Frodo's hand as they were led through the halls.

Estel and the elves kept their hoods up following behind like some kind of honour guard.

King Thengel sat hunched on his throne and when Bilbo tilted his head, he thought he saw a veil of cobwebs draped over his personage.

He thought he smelt rot in the halls of these men and fought to hide his distaste at the way his princes and princesses cowered behind his throne.

The king's smile was oddly twisted as he greeted, "The halfling and his son have returned to Rohan to visit my halls at long last."

Bilbo bowed, guiding Frodo with him. When he spoke, he did not contest the king's assumption, "I am Bilbo Baggins, and this is my son, Frodo Baggins. We have travelled far for the honour of meeting you, King Thengel of Roherrim."

At his every word, the King's face seemed to clear. Only to darken when he asked, "And those with you?"

"My guard," Bilbo said. "The Rangers are friends of the Shire. It is not safe for hobbits to travel the land alone."

"Not as such wee things," the King agreed, standing. "Come you will join us for dinner."

"Thank you, your highness," Frodo spoke up.

King Thengel smiled, a spark coming back into his eyes.

Whatever was wrong with him, whatever dark magic plagued him, was curable.

Yet, any offered help had likely been turned away.

Until now.

Sometimes, Bilbo felt like Big Folk were curious about hobbits the way hobbits were curious about elves.

Bilbo thought elves were more interesting, though it was somewhat flattering men this far east thought hobbits worthy of being fascinating.

Estel and the elves went to the walls with the guards while Bilbo and Frodo were seated like royalty beside the actual royalty.

"Halflings don't ride horses, do they?" the King asked, sounding almost sad.

Bilbo smiled, "Most do not, this is true. We prefer our feet firmly on the ground. But I was cajoled into learning when I visited your fair lands and saw your faunts, I mean littlest children, riding full sized horses. I taught Frodo how to ride ponies, though we have little cause to."

"You arrived by horse?" Thengel asked.

Bilbo nodded, "The Rangers were kind enough to lend us theirs."

He was well aware that if the King had been in his right mind, if the guards had been more concerned for their king, not of him, then the others wouldn't have been allowed to keep their hoods up and walked armed into the halls.

Of course, it was possible that the guards already knew them and maybe had even invited them.

"Do you enjoy riding?" Thengel asked.

Bilbo nodded, "Surprisingly, yes. It makes me feel very small, which is nothing new, but rather honoured that an animal so big would dane to listen to me."

Thengel's smile was real, "Our horses like the little folk. You're light and tend not to have such a harsh touch. You're an easy burden, and if accepted, they take care of you as they would one of their own. They are family."

Bilbo smiled in return, "They are a good family to have."

"Yes," Thengel said, trailing off. "Yes, they are, aren't they…"

He seemed to notice his human children for the first time and they sat up straighter, hope clear on their faces.

But even as the king gazed on his princes and princesses, that shadow glossed his eyes once more.

"When was the last time you rode?" Frodo asked.

"What?" Thengel asked, head swivelling back to face him.

"When was the last time you went for a ride with one of your horses?" Frodo asked again, managing to be both brave and shy at the same time.

While Bilbo looked like an adult, Frodo was still young enough and fair enough even among hobbits, to be mistaken as a man's child with point ears.

Even a king whose mind had been corrupted by black magic was charmed.

"I– I don't know," Thengel admitted, looking ashamed. "I don't remember when last I've been to the stables."

"May I meet your horses?" Frodo asked. "I'm sure they must be magnificent."

Thengel laughed, "Oh, they are, my dear lad. They are the most magnificent. Those in Gondor brag, but no beast could ever be so lovely as the horses of the Roherrim."

"My Un–, my uncle and my dah," Frodo motioned toward Bilbo, making his heart ache, "have always told me so."

"Indeed, and I see now that halflings are among the wiser folk of Arda. Perhaps your lack of great deeds is merely a product of your common sense," the King said delightedly, standing with strength and grace he had not shown before.

"I've always thought that to be true," Bilbo said. "And you, King Thengel are the wisest of kings to admit it."

The King laughed gayfully and his court joined him.

"Come," Thengel said. "I'll introduce you to my steads. Supper can wait for us. Frodo, I believe your father said you could ride a pony, would you like to try a real horse?"

Frodo looked to Bilbo, overwhelmed by the attention of not just the King but every big person in the room.

Bilbo laid a hand on his shoulder, "You will get no better offer, my boy, than being taught to ride by the King of Rohan."

Frodo leaned into the touch as they stood.

The King clapped, "Excellent! My old mare is retired now, she a bright thing, too gentle for war but so intelligent. She danced for me at every celebration and festival and impressed those in Gondor in her time. She will be good for you."

Frodo gave Bilbo a look that said clearly, He's about to put me on an animal five times as tall as me, isn't he?

Bilbo squeezed his shoulder in reassurement. He noted that Estel and Arwen followed behind them, but Elrohir and Elladan stayed back to speak with the guards.

Frodo was awed and very brave as the King walked them through his stables, until one of the guards brought out a beautiful grey and silver mare.

She was sleek, and even the evidence of her age did not mare her beauty.

Her withers were also at the man's height, towering over the majority of horses in the stables.

Bilbo tried not to laugh at Frodo's panicked stiffness when the king lifted him, placing him bareback on the calm mare whose name they were told was Octavia.

The King gave instructions, rubbing the mare's neck and shoulder. Octavia nuzzled the King in turn, appearing to have missed the man. She paid no attention to Frodo save for the occasional ear flick in his direction.

Bilbo tugged on the King's robe to get his attention, the man looked down at him with another smile, no hint of lingering darkness or sickness in his eyes.

"Yes?"

"My lad's a bit young yet, if you wouldn't mind, I could assist," Bilbo explained.

Frodo looked just about ready to cry.

A guard scooped Bilbo up, placing him behind Frodo. He immediately hugged him, laying a kiss on his curls, "S'all right, s'all right. She's not going to let us fall." He leaned forward, guiding one of Frodo's hands to Octavia's mane and neck. "She's not going to let us fall. I can already tell, she's nicer than the ponies I had you on."

Thengel laughed, again, "He tells the truth. Come, come, lad, your father knows what he's doing."

Thengel led them out into the twilight where Bilbo learned as much as Frodo did about horses.

Whatever had been plaguing the King, he was free of it for now.

oOo

The next morning, was far more chaotic than their arrival had been.

The twins had stolen into the King's bed chambers with the guards' aid while Thengel was with the horses.

There they found some orb thing, that turned out to be cursed and the thing warping the king's sanity.

King Thengel was enraged when he realised all that had happened to him and his lands since he had been magically manipulated.

That rage only grew when no one could remember where the orb came from nor could they track the origins of the person manipulating them.

Bilbo shivered when Estel said it could be a fallen wizard, a fallen elf, or the Dark Lord Sauran whose return had been foretold.

No one liked any of those options.

However, the main crisis of Roherrim was averted. Estel and the elves would return to Rivendell.

While Bilbo and Frodo travelled with the carven of dwarrrow from the Iron Hills who had been wrongly imprisoned.

Bilbo was pretty certain it was due to Frodo's large beseeching blue eyes, that the dwarrow got away better off than they had arrived. They were given fresh steads, full meals at the king's table as they waited, and enough food to easily make the journey to Ered Luin with.

"You have to stay at Bag End," Frodo was telling a dwarrowdam named Estur.

She smiled at him, "Not this time. I think we are late enough as it is. Hopefully, with these Roherrim ponies we can make back some distance. We can't afford to stop though."

Frodo's shoulders sagged and the dwarrowdam immediately rested a hand on his shoulder, "Next time we pass this way, we will stop, I promise, pebble. You are dwarf-friend now, and that is a much more difficult and grandeur title than elf-friend."

Because it was Frodo, he asked, "The elves taught me Sindarin, will you teach me Khuzdul?"

All the dwarrow present laughed heartily.

But none of them answered.

Bilbo took it as a kindness that they didn't tell them 'no', outright.

oOo

Estur was already beginning to regret having to say goodbye to the halflings–hobbits–the further into the Shire they got.

"Frodo will be turning thirty-three this autumn, which is the age of majority for hobbits," Bilbo was explaining as they rode on.

Frodo wrinkled his nose, "I've no idea what to give everyone though."

"You give presents on your birthday?" Estur asked.

Bilbo sighed, "Yes, and because we share the date, expectations will be high. I never re-gift anything. And given my position, I'll be expected to truly impress. I should have started earlier."

Estur bit her lip, "What sort of gifts?"

"Depends really. Soups, seedlings, bottled ale, or jams, but those are for the adults. It's what we give to the faunts that is meant to impress. I'm a bit behind party planning. I thought I would have more time to commission something," Bilbo explained.

Estur coughed, "My adad– my father and uncle are toymakers."

Frodo looked at him with rising excitement.

Bilbo smiled, "Is that their craft?"

She nodded, "It is. Though it's not a profitable business in Ered Luin. They labour as miners."

"Well, if they can spare the time, I would certainly pay," Bilbo said. "Though they probably find it easiest to work in the Shire. I would of course provide for their stay and travel in addition to the commission."

Estur blinked, opened her mouth then snapped it shut. She was incredibly unfamiliar with the feeling of being treated fairly by other races.

But after freeing them from the Mad Man King, she owed these hobbits a debt. She had to trust, or at least give them the benefit of the doubt. "Dwarrow work fast, how many toys would you need?"

"Two hundred," Bilbo said. "A hundred faunts are likely to show up and they need a present from both Frodo and I."

She gaped at them.

The other dwarrow in their group gaped at them.

"Are you alright?" Bilbo asked.

"Yes," she breathed. "Yes, I'm sure they would love to…"

"But?" Bilbo asked with a kind smile.

She smiled back, "But I have been far from home for some decades now. I'll miss them."

Her friend, Shane, sat forward on his pony, "Why don't you stay here then? We owe Master Baggins much, and while your adad can't pay that debt forward, your staying would ensure their acceptance of the commission."
Frodo grinned, "So you can stay for dinner!?"

Bilbo smiled, "Truly, I must insist you all stay for a night."

Shane who had been wary of the hobbit was much mor comfortable with a business arrangement in the making and accepted on the groups behalf.

As it turned out, it was to everyone's unexpected benefits.

For when they arrived at Bag End, they were greeted by eager pebbles and a feast.

oOo

Bilbo was disappointed when he found the letter that Thorin had sent informing them that he was unable to join them this year because of a problem in Ered Luin. Yet his horror at what had happened made him grateful that he could send along a care package.

After resting for a night, and being harassed by faunts, the Iron Hill caravan continued to Ered Luin. Bilbo sent food with all of them, with three baskets for Thorin's family and another order of healing merchandise as this years harvest were doing extremely well.

Whatever longing he felt for his Heartsong he felt, he was distracted by family and preparing for Frodo's coming-of-age party.

Along with them, he sent a commission letter to Lord Balin, Son of Fundin when Estur informed him it was proper for such a large business dealing.

Having no reason to doubt her, Bilbo did as she requested.

oOo

It wasn't often Bofur was invited to the royal wing of Thorin's Halls.

Sure, Prince Fíli was starting to warm up to him and he knew Prince Thorin considered him a friend, but it was still a surprise.

As was the feast they, Bofur, Bifur, and Bombur and his littles were greeted with.

Along with Ri's and their ward Sonna.

There was hardly enough room around the table.

Bofur remembered the added bulk that Prince Thorin had gained when he had first returned from the Shire, not fat, but an evolution from wirier muscles to that of the proper size of a workaholic smith. He was tall by dwarven standards and Bofur was somewhat saddened that he seemed to have lost the weight that allowed him to be his healthy.

"Fíli was quite right about the generosity of hobbits, as he was about the approaching collapse of the old district. So to Fíli and Bilbo Baggins shall we raise our pints tonight." Thorin toasted.

Fíli shrunk away from the attention but the rest eagerly dug into the food that had a lot more vegetables than the standard dwarven fair.

They had all been cooked in butter and the mushrooms were filling enough to almost make up for not being meat, so there was not a single complaint to be heard. They had all lived on rationed food for too long to complain.

Gimli and Sonna were gems and sat with Bombur's three pebbles in the living room to eat so the rest of them could squeeze in around the dining room table. There was no elbow room but by Mahal did it felt incredible to be full.

Conversation was light, and for a time they set aside all their grievances.

Only Bifur refrained from smiling.

That night they had received a letter from the caravan that Estur had found employment and would be delayed returning home for a few more months.

Bofur's niece was independent to a fault and they all hated the thought that she was working for men on her own.

At least when she was in the Iron Hills, she had been with their own kind. In fact, they were a bit infuriated with the caravan who had allowed her to remain behind on the road alone.

Since Bifur's injury, he had trouble talking. He stuttered and had trouble forming words, so much so that he mainly spoke with Iglishmêk now. The rant he had given after reading his daughter's letter had caused Bombur to take his pebbles out to the market.

"I adore hobbits," Dís said, pleased. "I ought to write to him and thank him for taking such good care of you."

"Yes, well, this isn't quite the end of Master Baggins's generosity," Balin said, eyes twinkling as he pulled a paper from his breast pocket and held it out to Bofur.

"For me?" he asked, surprised.

Thorin nodded, "And your cousin."

Bofur exchanged a look with Bifur before he stood and nearly tipped his ale which Nori reached over Ori to steady.

Bofur opened the parchment and fell back into his seat as his legs went to jelly. "You can't be serious," he breathed.

Bifur snatched it from his hand, only to gape, speechless at the numerals written with such bold elegant lettering.

"Completely serious," Balin said. "Dwarvish trade is rare and men rip them off. So buying from us is something they normally wouldn't know where to begin with. It's not like in Dale where we had a formal shop to sell our wares to the outside world. Our trade partnership with Master Baggins is proving immensely beneficial."

Bofur could only shake his head as he reread the letter from start to finish, looking for the catch.

"What did he ask from you?" Dwalin asked.

"A single commission," Bofur said, feeling a bit unreal as he finished with awe. "For two hundred children's toys."

The room fell silent and Bifur leaned into him both offering and asking for support.

"What on earth could they need that many toys for?" Gloín rumbled.

They made Thorin explain birthdays twice over before they understood.

Bofur still couldn't believe it.

"So if everyone gives gifts then several times a year, everyone would receive one?" Bofur asked, growing fonder of the halflings by the moment.

Bombur had taken the contract and summarised, "He invites Master Toymakers, Masters Bifur and Bofur, as well as his kin are welcome to stay at Bag End until the duration of the toys are completed. Food and amenities included. Wood will be sourced from the Shire."

The last was the biggest logistical concern Bofur had had for such a large commission.

"I can assure, it is true. I would take Bilbo Baggins's word as surely as I would trust my own," Thorin offered.

Which pretty much settled the issue as Thorin was soon enough to be their next king, his staking his word on another was no small thing.

Bofur shook his head, "I've never made this much off my craft before."

He was pretty certain he'd be in shock about it for months.

"So you'll go then?" Thorin asked.

"You know we will," Bifur signed. "It will be good to practice our craft for a time."

And not work in the coal mines, went unsaid.

Even for dwarves, coal mining was rough on the lungs for too long.

Bofur took his cousin's hand and squeezed.

"Mind the suspicion of the Shire in general though," Thorin warned.

Dwalin huffed, "Good enough to work for but never good enough to trust."

"They aren't as bad as men, but they have no defence against us if we did mean them harm," Thorin said without levity." Speaking of which, keep that contract handy. I was escorted by one of the Rangers, they may stop to question you."

Their unreconciled debt to Lord Glorfindel was still affecting them.

"We'll set out tomorrow," Bofur said. "I'd like to get started so the quality surpasses the quantity."

oOo

AN: I would say I'm getting closer to finishing this story, but as you can see it just keeps growing. All feedback is life support to my overtime summer!

Thank you to everyone who continues to comment!