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4-26-2941, Hobbiton
The Shire had not changed that much since Dwalin had been there for Brynye’s wedding. He had passed the Party Tree earlier and the little smial that Brynye had lived in at the time. The only thing that seemed to have changed was what colorful flowers were where.
The wizard had told Thorin where to meet a month ago and Thorin had a sour look on his face when he announced where they were to meet. Dwalin had asked later and learned that their to-be burglar was related to the Dwarfish Tooks. According to Balin’s letter to his brother, he had asked who –which Dwalin should have asked himself but it slipped his mind-- but Thorin could only answer that it was cousin of some sort or another and he had forgotten the name. Thorin didn’t think that the hobbit would come with them due to the simple thought that Brynye had insisted on it he wouldn’t; their king was certain the dwarrowdam would get to him first and convince the hobbit to slam the door in their faces. Still, they headed for the Shire all the same and received confirmation from Gandalf as they entered the Shire. The old coot was sitting beside the road waiting for the dwarrows to enter the rolling green hills.
As it was, Dwalin would have killed for some company as he walked up Bagshot Row to meet the burglar. His brother had written him before he had started out and told him they would see each other at the hobbit’s home. Balin had been on a small diplomatic mission for Thorin and Dwalin had been out guarding caravans when the letters had made their rounds asking for volunteers for this hairbrained scheme. He looked forward to seeing his brother again, it had been half a decade since they had gotten more than a wave across a marketplace. Dwalin, who had met Thorin while the king-in-exile was traveling to meet the other dwarf envoys, suspected their company would be small and most likely made up of distant family members.
The mark on the green door caught his attention in the darkening night. He let himself through the gate and walked up to the door. After knocking on the door, he heard a pair of arguing voices approaching. As he didn’t recognize either of them, he suspected the hobbit they were meeting had someone else living with him, a spouse or sibling perhaps.
The door swung open and he was greeted by the sight of a put-upon hobbit in his waistcoat and stress mussed hair and what seemed to be another hobbit though she dressed different than any one he had ever seen before. While her clothes looked vaguely hobbit in origin, they were styled different and covered up the fact she had a wider frame than most hobbits. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun and covered with a cloth.
“Dwalin, at your service,” he said and bowed after breaking his gaze from the woman.
“Freye Took and Bilbo Baggins, at your service and your family’s,” she replied before bowing. She invited him in and asked about the number of people coming. He was not surprised to learn that Gandalf had neglected to inform them of the number coming this evening. Young Freye took it all in stride and bid him to help Bilbo move the tables so they would have more room.
It was during that time, between complimenting Bilbo on his hidden strength, that he reviewed in his mind what he knew about Brynye Took. He knew Brynye had a granddaughter that would be around the age that Freye appeared. Freye certainly had the eyes of Brynye’s line as well. He remembered the green emeralds that had been Frye’s eyes, wide with wonder and then in caution when he was older. Her hair, dark and rich, mirrored what Brynye’s now silvering tresses had been in her youth. He had caught sight of her hands, callused from hard work. He saw two pictures over the fireplace as he and Bilbo grabbed chairs. He walked over to it and inspected it closer.
“My mother,” Bilbo said. “Belladonna Took. She would have loved to have met you all. She loved adventures, meeting people. She told me about a time Gandalf spirited her off on an adventure and she ended up meeting dwarves along the way.”
“Dwarrows, cousin,” Freye called from the kitchen absentmindedly.
Dwalin moved another chair. He could remember Belladonna, a few year younger than that portrait, but it was Belladonna nonetheless.
It was after dinner, when Freye moved one of his axes with a well-practiced grip that it truly clicked into place. Years earlier when he had delivered the letter to Brynye after Frye and Asta’s death, Freye had been in the smithery working on an axe. She had moved just as she did that day. He swallowed and looked away when she glared at him. Perhaps he had been looking too hard.
After everyone had turned in, Dwalin felt the urge for a glass of water and got up from his bedroll. He found Thorin writing at the kitchen table. It was a contract and he was finishing his signature on it.
“Balin will never sign it when he figures out who she is,” Dwalin said. Thorin nearly jumped but just poured a glass of water from the pitcher beside him for Dwalin. The younger dwarf sat down across from his king and took a sip. “Surprised he hasn’t. She does look an awful lot like Bry.”
“She does and is just as stubborn. Though she did not admit to it, I know she will follow in the morning. She seems to think that her cousin will be joining us.”
“After what his mother used to do, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Thorin looked up at the mention. “Belladonna Took. Brynye brought her to the forge we were at all those years ago. She was still a young hobbit then. She was adventuring with Gandalf at the time.”
The realization crossed Thorin’s face and he let out a low groan as he scrubbed his face with one hand. “The portrait.”
“Aye.” Dwalin pulled the contract around and read it to himself before he signed his name and left a little message for her. “If she comes, I won’t have her fall as Frye did. I recommended him and Asta to you all those years ago. I owe her for them.”
“We both do,” Thorin muttered. “You know she figured out who I was? Her pendant.” Thorin rubbed his tired face. “I explained what it meant to her in whole and she pieced the rest. It was a comfort to have told her. Now, now I wish I could send her back to Bree or to Ered Luin where she would be safe. Brynye will skin me for this.”
“Balin would stop her.”
“Really? I think Balin would join in. Did you know they’ve been exchanging letters about twice a month since she moved back from Ered Luin? Your brother is in love.”
“Balin? Never.”
“You didn’t see how he looked at her when they first met. It was adorable.”
“But she already married.”
“From what Dís tells me, Wystan may have been her One among Hobbits but she has always felt a pull in another direction as well. I would not be surprised if she and Balin marry after all this. Too bad they won’t have children at their age.”
“I’ll gain a great-niece though,” Dwalin said with a laugh. “Let it run its course Thorin. Everything will work out in the end.”
“I hope so, my brother, I hope so.”