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Billa opened her eyes sleepily when she heard the near silent creak of the door. A half smile fell on her face when she realized that it was from the door that connected her and Thorin’s chambers to Frerin’s. A soft pattering of feet echoed along the stone floor only to stop near Thorin’s side of the bed.
“Adad.” Frerin’s voice carried well in the room, even though he was whispering as quietly as he was able. Thorin didn’t stir so Frerin tried again,
“Adad, wake up.”
Billa waited for a few moments before deciding to help. She touched her foot to Thorin’s bare leg, knowing that her feet were always rather chilly, no matter the warmth of the mountain and covers.
He jerked slightly at the contact, waking almost immediately. Billa knew from experience that Frerin was about three inches from Thorin’s face, staring intently. Thorin chuckled slightly at their son and asked,
“What do you need, mizimith?”
“I had a bad dream.”
Billa turned slightly so that she was facing Thorin’s back. She peered into the darkness and saw that Thorin was busy running one heavy hand through Frerin’s wild curls. He gathered Frerin close and lifted him onto the bed, saying,
“Your amad and I will protect you from any bad dreams.”
Frerin snuggled into the mass of covers and pillows, already yawning sleepily. She looked over at Thorin and smiled, both fully aware that Frerin sometimes preferred their bed to his own. It didn’t take long before Frerin’s breathing evened out, and he was asleep.
Thorin adjusted himself so that Frerin had enough room and brought one hand up to intertwine with one of her own. Billa curled her fingers around his and squeezed, a silent and more private display of affection that they used frequently while in council meetings or when surveying the markets and mines. The stillness of the night lulled her back to sleep not long after.
By the time they had finished breakfast the next morning, it was already past the time where they would need to meet with Thranduil and Bard for the annual negotiations regarding their winter food stores.
Billa huffed when she saw that Thorin was sitting on a chair, readjusting a boot for what seemed like the fifth time in as many minutes.
“Thorin, we’re going to be late, and it’s going to be even more difficult to reason with Thranduil if we are.”
Thorin grumbled out something incoherent and stood. He strode over to her and offered an arm, which she took gladly. He hefted out a heavy sigh and said,
“Let’s get this over with. I can only stomach so much of that drunk.”
Billa let out a laugh despite herself and shook her head slightly.
“I would not let him hear you say that. I don’t think I would be able to rescue you from the dungeons a second time.” Thorin laughed deeply and smiled, bad mood somewhat forgotten.
The council chambers were bare except for Bard. He stood when they entered and greeted them warmly. It was always in stark contrast to Thranduil, although he was much more amenable when Billa was present.
Thorin stalked to his chair, already looking put out with the negotiations that hadn’t even begun. Billa spared her husband a glance and turned back to Bard who was waiting patiently in his own seat. She took her place and addressed the Bowman by asking,
“How are your children? They’d already grown so much since I’ve last seen them.”
Bard brightened at the mention of his children,
“Bain is growing taller every day, and I think that Tilda – “
Before Bard could finish speaking, the door to the council room flung open, hitting the stone with a fair amount of force. Thranduil strutted in, casting a judging look over chambers. The elven king sat at his place with a flourish, calling with a flick of his hand for wine to be brought.
Thranduil then spared a glance for each one of them, inclining his head towards Bard, who nodded in return, and then to Billa, where he offered a more proper, equitable greeting. When he turned to Thorin, the pleasant expression dropped from his face as quickly as it was mustered and Billa heard him say,
“Oakenshield. I hadn’t thought it possible, but you’ve gone even more grey.”
Billa fought the urge to roll her eyes at the purposeful barb, and put a hand to her temple when Thorin replied with,
“You look well for someone that just hopped out a tree,” He paused to sniff at the air and then continued, “You smell of the elk you rode here. Most unbecoming.”
Thranduil’s eyes narrowed menacingly. Before the conversation could spiral any lower, Billa pulled the records closer to her and loudly stated,
“Balin left the previous year’s negotiations with me. I figured they would be helpful here. Erebor’s council did provide a few possible solutions, but before any are started I would like to have it be acceptable to all involved.”
She shot a look to both Thorin and Thranduil, waiting for their response. Thorin glanced at her and then seeing her annoyance, dropped his gaze to the records before him, following along. Thranduil did much the same. The rest of the meeting was peppered with smart comments and quick witted jabs that mostly came from Thranduil, but were quickly returned by Thorin. Each time a comment was made Billa looked to Bard for assistance. The Bowman looked uncomfortable at the verbal sparring, but tried to refocus the room whenever needed.
Hours passed before the year’s agreement was made and stone chairs scraped the floor once more. Billa took a deep breath, more stressed than she thought possible. Bard stood after her, scrubbing at his face and trying to hide a yawn. Billa watched as Thorin and Thranduil sent sharp looks at one another, but she was too tired to stop them from antagonizing each other.
A few guards opened the doors, a burst of cool air swirling into the room. One guard chuckled briefly as Frerin ran to her, giggling. She smiled at him and asked,
“Where are Fili and Kili? They said they would be watching you today.”
Frerin paused and looked up at her, thinking.
“Kili is talking to someone and Fili is hiding.”
Billa laughed, imagining poor Fili holed up somewhere in a hiding place, waiting for Frerin to find him.
“Do you think you should find him?”
Frerin nodded emphatically, bouncing on his heels.
“I will! I always find him! Bofur said he and Bifur would help me this time!”
She smiled, taking her thumb to affectionately rub away some dirt on Frerin’s cheek. He pulled away quickly, making a distressed noise.
“Amad! It’s fine!”
Frerin ran over to Thorin, eager to get away from her attempts at keeping him presentable. Thorin picked him up easily, swinging him in circles before asking him something, too quiet for her to here. She watched them for a few moments, utterly content. An imposing figure appeared at her side. Billa looked up to see that it was Thranduil. The elf inclined his head towards her, following her gaze to Thorin and Frerin. He turned back to her and remarked,
“I suppose congratulations are in order.”
Billa’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Even so, she knew it was polite to accept.
“Thank you very much, I suppose.”
Thranduil merely raised an eyebrow in response and strode from the room without another word. Frerin’s indignant shriek drew her away from her confusion. Thorin had tried to continue what she had started, wiping away the dirt at Frerin’s face.
As soon as Frerin’s feet touched the floor again, he was running in the opposite direction, shouting out,
“I’m going to find Fili!”
Thorin laughed brightly, pride coloring every one of his features. She walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his sturdy middle. He returned the embrace, both of them content to stay where they were for the time being. Thorin pressed a kiss to her forehead, and smiled through another when Billa pulled on a braid to bring him closer to her.
A few weeks passed uneventfully, the mountain passing seamlessly into winter and the first snowfall. The vast markets moved deeper into the mountain, closer to the enormous forges that heated it.
Having an unusually clear schedule, Billa had made up her mind to spend the day doing decidedly hobbitish things, like baking in a frenzy the mountain had never seen the likes of before. In their first year of marriage, Thorin had ensured that a portion of the main kitchens would be set aside for her use alone, especially if she intended to make raspberry tarts.
Bombur kept her company frequently, but it was Fili in her kitchen when she arrived. The changes in Fili since the battle were striking. His hair and beard had lengthened somewhat, the beads in his braids changed to ones of ruby. He had also matured, at least to the public eye. When he was with family, specifically Kili and Frerin, it seemed as though he hadn’t aged a day since she had first met him.
He waved at her and said,
“Morning Aunt Billa! Bombur was having a fit, so I thought I could eat in here.”
He gestured to a plate piled high with potatoes and sausage, not a speck of green to be found. She frowned to herself, the dwarves truly needed to eat more vegetables. She shook her head and sat at the table. Fili continued eating, telling her about the new dwarves that had arrived in the mountain from Ered Luin. She listened attentively until the smell of the sausages had her focusing on her hands.
Fili paused in mid-sentence to look at her in concern, asking,
“Are you feeling well, Aunt Billa? You look ill.”
She sucked in a breath, waiting for the nausea to pass before she responded.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine. It’s nothing to worry about. I have been feeling a tad off as of late. “
Fili stared at her, absorbing the information. He stood suddenly, as though he had made up his mind and said,
“I’m going to fetch Oin. Stay here.”
“Fili, it’s not necessary, I- “Before she could finish her sentence, Fili was hurrying out of the kitchens. Billa sighed and put her head in her hands. The ill feeling had passed for the most part, but she pushed the plate of food even further from herself, just to be safe. She had a hard time believing that she was coming down with some sort of sickness, as she was hardly ever ill. Hobbits were known for that. The business in Laketown had been entirely by chance, and even the hardiest of hobbits would have gotten sick.
It wasn’t like a hobbit’s stomach to act so strangely around food either. The only other time that had happened was when she was pregnant – Understanding dawned quickly, and Billa immediately berated herself for not noticing earlier. A hand went almost unthinkingly to her stomach, and a thrilled laugh erupted from her lips. Her mind immediately jumped to the thought of telling Thorin, and how intensely pleased he was going to be.
Oin and Fili came back a few minutes later to find her smiling to herself wildly.
“What seems to be ailing you, lass?” Oin looked her up and down, searching for any apparent problems.
She waved him away with a noncommittal hand, saying,
“I told Fili nothing was wrong. I was only feeling a tad nauseous.”
Oin reached for his ear trumpet, listening to what she had to say. When she was finished speaking, he lowered the gilded metal and replied,
“You don’t have a fever, chills, anything of the sort? You look healthy enough.”
Billa smirked, shaking her head.
“I believe it’s something else entirely.” She shot a glance at Fili and warned, “If you tell a soul, I will find you and you will regret it.”
Fili’s alarmed face and frantic nod was answer enough. Satisfied, she turned back to Oin and said,
“I think I may be pregnant.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Fili’s jaw drop, and an almost manic glee overtake his face. Billa looked at him with a warning clear in her eyes. Fili’s mouth snapped shut and he nodded once.
Oin smiled at her, saying,
“Let’s go to the infirmary, and we’ll be able to tell for ourselves.”
Billa caught Oin by the arm, saying,
“I haven’t told Thorin of my suspicions yet, I’d like to keep this as quiet as possible.”
Oin nodded in agreement,
“There are a few old quarters that were infirmaries once. They’re still clean, and well kept.”
Perhaps an hour later, Billa was back in the kitchen, bubbly with the knowledge that she was truly pregnant. The smile had remained plastered to her face even when she tried to hide it. Thorin was to be stuck with his council for the rest of the day, no doubt becoming more frustrated by the minute. For dwarves that were supposed to advise and listen to their king, they did very little of it.
When she was finally done making tarts and a batch of small cakes, she stayed in the kitchen long enough to clean and make herself look presentable once more. A kitchen worker entered while Billa was busy, and once the dwarf saw who was there, began to apologize profusely. She waved off the apologies and sent the dwarf away with a tart for his trouble.
The rest of the day passed quickly, much of it spent in the markets with Frerin. Billa was certain that she never would be able to travel through a market without some amount of fanfare, but it had gotten better the more time she spent there.
Frerin stayed by her side until they got closer to the toymaker’s alley. He jumped up and down excitedly, imploring,
“Amad, can we go see the toys? I want to see what Bifur made now.”
Billa barely managed a nod before Frerin was running ahead of her and into the stall.
Bofur and Bifur’s stall was known to be one of the largest in the entirety of the market, and was loved for the toys inside. It was the first stall in the line of toymaker’s and was without a doubt the most popular. Frerin adored peeking inside every visit, mainly because of the toy he always got to leave with.
A familiar hat bobbed behind a shelf, and reappeared when the tiny bells jangled on the frame of the stall. Bofur cracked a wide smile when he saw them, and called for Bifur. Frerin was already absorbed in the intricacies of the toys, not paying attention to anything else.
“Billa! What can I do for you?” Bofur pushed a hanging dragon shaped kite out of his way and stopped in front of her.
“Frerin wanted to see what Bifur made. We’re waiting until Thorin gets out of council to visit Dis.”
Bifur came out from behind a shelf of toy dwarven soldiers, making a beeline for Frerin. He pulled a soldier off of the shelf and put it in Frerin’s hands gently. Frerin smiled and thanked Bifur immediately.
Billa gave a soft smile to the pair and turned her attention back towards Bofur. He was mentioning the buzz surrounding the council meeting that Thorin was immersed in.
“The council is bringing up the succession again today.”
She sighed. The succession seemed to be an issue that the council would never fully agree to. Perhaps a year after the coronation, Fili made it clear that he would abdicate from his place in line to the throne in favor of his cousin. Thorin had been against the decision at first, but Fili was adamant. After that, Fili settled comfortably in his role as ambassador to the Woodland Realm as well as Rivendell. Thorin persuaded his nephew to accept the role as regent should both he and Billa die before Frerin came of age to rule. Fili settled into this role without much change, and that was that. Or so it seemed. The council rebelled, thinking that Billa had had a hand in changing the success for personal gain. This offended Thorin greatly, and since then the succession remained a topic of intense debate.
“Hopefully Thorin won’t take it too seriously.”
Bofur nodded, moving on to more pleasant topics.
A loud shout caught their attention, making them move to the entrance of the tent to gain a better look at the dwarf who caused it. A frown set on Billa’s face when she realized the dwarf was one of Thorin’s more senior council members, Lord Erlendur.
The dwarf lord continued to rage at those accompanying him, becoming more upset with every word he spoke. A passing dwarrowdam shook her head at the spectacle, eyes widening when she saw Billa was just beside her.
Billa turned to her and asked,
“Do you know what happened to anger Lord Erlendur so?”
The dwarrowdam paused, choosing words carefully before replying,
“Yes, Your Majesty. The King removed Erlendur from his council. I don’t know much more than that.”
Billa nodded once, her mind already swiftly moving towards all the possibilities the news both severed and created. It would be best for Thorin’s sanity, and perhaps that of the kingdom’s, if Erlendur was removed. There were, however, dwarves that defended their lord staunchly, not much caring for their king. The walk back to the chambers was a swift one with Frerin following her obediently. Even from down the hall, she could hear the distinctive crash of metal against the stone wall. Billa paused and looked down at Frerin.
He was staring at the door curiously, eyes wide. His gaze turned upwards as he asked,
“Is Adad mad at something?”
She ran a hand through her son’s hair and smiled,
“Maybe a little, but I promise it will be alright.”
Another loud crash reverberated through the hallway. Billa gave the door another glance, shaking her head slightly.
“Would you like to visit Fili and Kili? I’m sure they wouldn’t mind seeing you, mizim.”
Frerin smiled and nodded, turning on his heel down the hall towards one of the sitting rooms that the pair frequented. Billa watched him until he was safe inside the room, and then turned back towards the door to her own chambers.
She stepped inside quickly, assessing the situation in front of her. Thorin was pacing around the shattered glass and bent trinkets that littered the floor. His crown had been thrown haphazardly on the bed, his cloak pooled next to a chair leg.
His stony expression rose from the floor, a biting comment no doubt poised on his lips to anyone that dare enter. When he saw her his brow eased and his shoulders lost some of the tenseness they had held.
Billa turned a chair away from its place at the fire to face the raging dwarf. She sat there for a few minutes, simply watching Thorin patiently, waiting for his temper to subside.
“What happened at the council meeting?”
Thorin’s face soured again and he growled out,
“Erlendur has long since been trying my patience. He had the gall to question the order of succession. Many of the council protested, but he persisted. He went so far as to question your faithfulness. I dismissed him on the spot for fear of drawing my sword should he continue.”
At this, Thorin retreated to the remaining chair at the fireplace. His shoulders tensed as he sat, hands curling around the edges of the armrest.
“How did the rest of the council react?”
“Balin helped in diffusing the situation. I didn’t wish to stay any longer, so I left council.”
Billa nodded to herself, knowing that nothing could be done to change what had happened earlier that day. It would be better, for the council and for Thorin’s well being to have removed Erlendur from the council.
“What is done is done, Thorin. You needn’t worry about it now.”
Thorin sighed heavily and shook his head.
“This argument with succession will not have ended here. It will continue, and at your expense.” He turned to face her, eyes heavy with sadness, “I apologize for this, Ghivashel. You are worth more than this.”
Billa waved away the apology with a bat of her hand, smiling at her husband.
“You are not alone in this Thorin. We rule together. You and I are strong enough to handle petty council squabbles.” Billa adopted an airily confident expression and teased, “I’ve riddled with dragons and killed Orcs, remember? A council is no match.”
Thorin laughed, drawing her closer into his arms.
“I never dreamt I could be so lucky as to have you by my side. You have given me all I could want and more.”
Billa smiled, resting her head on Thorin’s chest. She brightened suddenly, looking up into Thorin’s mirth filled eyes.
“I have exciting news.”
Thorin tilted his head in interest and questioned,
“From the Shire? It has been a while since a letter has arrived.”
Billa shook her head,
“No, but one from Primula just arrived earlier.”
Thorin nodded once, his face turning puzzled.
“What news do you have, Ghivashel?”
She laughed, kissing Thorin quickly before touching her forehead to his.
“I’m pregnant.”
Billa waited eagerly for Thorin’s response, and was not disappointed. The blank stare lasted far longer than she had expected it to. When that finally fell away, a grin spread across his face like wildfire. The hands previously cupping her cheeks moved towards her stomach reverently, like the slightest of motions would harm their child.
“Truly?”
Billa nodded, surprised to see a glittering wetness in Thorin’s eyes.
He drew her closer and kissed her deeply, his hand moving to curl through her hair. Their foreheads touched once more, and the pair remained content to stay like that for quite a while.