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Bilba Baggins had never thought herself a particularly forward individual.
It was true that on occasion she tended to have a spurt of boldness about her, for which she laid the blame on her Tookish nature. But no, Bilba Baggins did not see herself as bold, never rude and never, ever, forward.
Especially in the company of Dwarves.
Then why oh why did her band of friends suddenly look at her like she was the most peculiar thing in all of middle earth?! Even Bofur, whom she had confided in since he made her faint back in Bag End, had been staring at her like she'd proposed or some just as strange.
It had all started the night before. They had been walking for miles and miles, many of them worried about the upcoming Durin's day, wondering if they would even make it to Dale before the Dwarf New Year.
Tired and hungry, they set up camp in a less wild part of the wood.
The rain that day had been particularly heavy, causing her curls to frizz and knot, the branches catching it every so often not helping her mood.
Bilba knew she had two choices. One, cut it off. Two, ask someone to braid it for her, just to keep it off her face.
Knowing she had been in Thorin's good books since the incident with Azog (or "That-Time-Miss-Baggins-Went-A-Bit-Mental" as Bofur so eloquently put it) the logical thought in her mind was to ask him.
Yes. A perfect plan. Thorin was highly respected and wouldn't mind aiding her if she simply explained why. Which in itself was easy. She needed to be more alert and able to keep up. Also, he was nowhere near as scary as Dwalin, whom would be the other candidate for helping her.
Perfect, perfect, perfect.
Well, supposed to be perfect.
This is where it had all seemed to go wrong. She approached Thorin calmly as he sat near the fire, smoking his pipe.
He had looked up as she approached, his “bluer than thou” eyes staring straight through her, as if peering into her soul. She had stood for only a few seconds before he addressed her.
"Yes, Miss Baggins, what can I do for you?"
"Well" she had begun, looking at her feet.
"I was wondering Master Thorin, if you'd be so kind as to braid my hair for me"
Bilba hadn't known you could still look elegant and majestic with your pipe on the floor and your mouth hanging open, but Thorin managed it.
The entire company had quietened at this, staring at her with as much astonishment as Thorin himself.
What is wrong with them? She had thought, irritation and doubt starting to seep through.
At seeing Thorin's ire, she tried to peddle back.
"I-It's just, it's a nuisance is all. I know you lot hate cutting hair and my knife is blunt anyway. So...so I thought you might...do it?"
Thorin had continued to stare at her. He stood before he spoke again, his voice a mere whisper.
"I. You. You must allow me time to think on this Burglar"
"Oh! Must you!" she had whined, aggravation from the day catching her up.
"I do so want to get it all done now"
As soon as those words had left her lips, Thorin had gone bright red before looking down at himself.
Suddenly, his hand darted forward, pulling her to his chest.
He had lent in close, Bilba felt herself go bright red.
Breathing her in, he began to speak in a tone that was dark and possessive. It had made her very core shiver.
"I would not have it all completed till we reach the Mountain of my forefathers, my Burglar. There I could cover you in jewels, ravish you in fine clothes. You would be claimed by me and by the Mountain itself. Not here on the road, a fine creature such as yourself deserves more. I ache too Bilba, but we must wait"
With that he had let her go and stalked off to find some more wood.
By the Valar, was he drunk?! She had thought, alarm ringing through her.
It was true she was deeply attracted to Thorin. She had been since Bag End. Who couldn't be? He had such deep eyes, soulful. His voice was like a mountain all on its own and the look of his body in its armour alone left her mind to wonder. What could he do with those hands that forged such brilliant swords?
Mmmm, hold her?
Keep her warm?
Pin her down?
She shook her head at those thoughts. One such as Thorin could not care for her in that way. He was a King, and she was just a Hobbit.
Still.
Alone and annoyed at how weird he and the others were acting, she decided to have an early night, trying to ignore the way the company were either staring at her in...astonishment/pride/worry or looking just as red as Thorin himself.
Which is how she ended up here, walking along the road with her friends all acting very very odd.
Honestly, she just wanted her hair sorted, was that so hard?
Just as these thoughts began to enter her mind, filling her with anger and irritation, she felt two arms from either side of her body pull squeeze her tight.
She looked to both sides.
Ah.
Fili and Kili.
Of course, just what she needed.
Their impish faces grinned down at her, before the elder began to speak.
"I have to say Bilba, you don't mind if we call you Bilba do you, that was quite something last night"
"What was" Bilba asked, concern beginning to etch its way into her face.
"How bold you were with Uncle of course! I think he liked it though."
"Oh yes" continued Fili.
"No doubt Uncle liked it. He likes spirit, most Dwarrows do. Still, we were all quite surprised you said it in front of us"
"Yes, we thought Hobbits got embarrassed quite easily."
"Well, I wouldn’t say easily" Bilba began. Then stopped.
"Why should I be embarrassed? Was I not right to ask Thorin? Maybe I should have asked Dwalin instead?"
"DWALIN" Both Durin boys shouted, causing some looks from Nori and Balin, who were standing closest to the trio.
"Why on earth would you?" Fili cut in, before he too, stopped and shared a look with Kili.
"Bilba, what do braids mean to you in the Shire?"
"Mean? Why, they don't mean anything at all. Usually children braid each other’s hair but I wanted mine out of my face, that's all."
"Ah" continued Kili, looking more and more awkward with every passing second.
"I suppose you're confused then. Why we're all acting like you asked Thorin to court you and essentially if all goes well...marry you"
"Yes, I was rather wondering what caused such looks"
"Er, you see, that's because you did."
"Did what?"
"Ask Thorin to court you and essentially if all goes well marry you"
Bilba stopped in her tracks at that. Face pale, staring wide eyed at the brothers.
It was Fili that spoke first.
"It's a Dwarven thing. Braids are very important. They represent all sorts, from family to deaths to marriages. When you ask someone to braid your hair outside your family, you are asking them if they want to court you."
"What?" It came out of Bilba as a breathless whisper.
"Uncle did sort of accept, so he thinks you two are courting and well, if all goes to plan with the Dragon...engaged?
"What?" Bilba repeated.
"I take it you really didn't know then" said Fili, shrinking a bit.
..."WHAT?"