Chapter Text
Billa would never be the gentle creature that the hobbits of the Shire had wanted her to be, and that suited her just fine.
Almost a year before, she had left the comfort of Bag End to follow a company of dwarves across Middle Earth – taking part in a quest to reclaim their homeland with them. She had outwitted trolls, broken bread with Elves in Rivendell and riddled in the dark with some form of deformed hobbit. She had saved the king of the dwarves from the pale orc in the Misty Mountains, ridden an eagle, befriended a skin-changer, gained a family, fought giant spiders and broken into an Elven prison. She had helped to kill a dragon, fought in the battle of the five armies and saved the king of the dwarves again – from the same pale orc as before.
At some point during their quest she had fallen madly in love with the aforementioned king, and now she was carrying his child.
No hobbit would ever approve, but Billa found that she couldn’t bring herself to care anymore. She didn’t feel the need to try and be a respectable hobbit any longer. She had found a new life for herself, living inside of a mountain with her adopted family and her intended, and someday she might be a respectable young consort to the king. No other hobbit could say that they had travelled as far as she had, and as far as she knew no other child of the kindly West had ever fallen in love with royalty before – let alone had that love reciprocated.
She had never fit in back in the Shire, and that was because she simply hadn’t belonged there. She knew that now. She belonged in Erebor, at the side of its king.
Billa opened her eyes slowly, her aching stomach having woken her once again. She didn’t resent the pains or the sickness half as much as she had before, knowing that they were brought on by her pregnancy, but it was still inconvenient. She and the baby would have to have words if it kept making her feel so poorly!
She sighed deeply, attempting to shift in the bed but finding herself quite unable to. She glanced down to see a large, muscular arm wrapped around her middle and smiled fondly to herself. Thorin was a solid presence at her back, his face pressed into the side of her neck with his thick hair trailing over her shoulder. One of his hands was splayed possessively over her stomach, and Billa settled her own hand over the top of it. She trailed her fingertips along his knuckles, her smile growing as his fingers twitched in response and he slowly turned his hand over to take hold of hers. She felt him shift behind her, his nose rubbing into the sensitive skin at the base of her skull.
“…morning, amrâlimê.” Thorin greeted, his voice thick and deep with sleep as he entwined their fingers. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of her neck, wrapping his other arm around her and slipping his free hand under her tunic to pat the bare skin of her abdomen affectionately. “Morning, madtithbirzul.” He added with a smile that she could feel against her skin.
Billa squeezed his hand gently in hers before rolling to face him, though she found herself a little staggered by the pure love she found in his sleepy expression. She cleared her throat softly, tilting her face up to kiss the underside of his jaw. “That’s a new one…” She noted, laughing quietly when his hands found their way under her tunic again to stroke her belly dotingly. And to think, she hadn’t been sure that he would want a family… She had been a fool. “…what does it mean?” She asked curiously, raising one hand to rub her knuckles into her eyes wearily.
She wouldn’t admit it, but having Thorin rub her stomach was actually easing her cramps. It was quite pleasant.
Thorin leaned forwards to press their foreheads together, shifting closer to her body and rubbing his feet on hers to warm them. “I am not sure that there is an exact translation into the common tongue, but it means something like ‘little golden heart’. It was what my mother used to call me when I was young.” He shared, smiling kindly at the slight lady in his arms. “Our child will be my little golden heart, in the same way that I was my mother’s.” He decided, kissing the tip of Billa’s nose adoringly. “Except that I hope our madtithbirzul might be better behaved than I was.”
“Thorin Oakenshield, were you a naughty child?” Billa gasped mockingly, though she actually was a little surprised. Thorin had been so serious when they had first met, and she had kind of assumed that he had always been that way. She had expected him to be the kind of child who trailed after their parents, quietly doing what he was told. Like her former gardener’s youngest, Samwise. He was a good faunt.
“I was a delight!” Thorin insisted, trying to keep a straight face but failing – grinning widely at her. “Most of the time. Frerin, Dís and I were known for our mischief, before I came of age. Though our mischief usually involved some hare-brained idea of Frerin’s that Dís followed blindly whilst I tried to reign the two of them in. They were always getting me into trouble with our father.” He conceded, shaking his head to himself. It was the first time Billa could remember him bringing up his brother himself, but she didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Billa knew very little of Frerin, but she did know that he and Thorin had been very close – and Thorin had apparently been devastated when he died. Understandably, of course.
“You needed siblings to be unruly? I managed all by myself.” Billa said instead, grinning back and poking a finger into Thorin’s ribs playfully.
Thorin squirmed out of the way with a laugh, taking both of her hands in his so that she couldn’t jab at him again. “Mahal, our child is going to be a terror.” He groaned jokingly, raising one of her hands to his mouth and kissing her palm.
Billa giggled softly at the way his beard tickled her skin, eyes crinkling at the corners in amusement. “Especially with Fili and Kili around too.” She pointed out, laughing when Thorin’s eyes widened in response.
“There is no hope for this child!” He complained in jest, pulling her into his chest and wrapping his arms around her once more. “A feisty hobbit mother and two boisterous dwarven cousins…”
“…and a grumpy king of a father.” Billa teased, nosing the regal dwarf’s cheek.
Thorin tried to glower at her, but even he couldn’t stop smiling for long enough to make it look convincing. He kissed her soundly on the mouth for a moment before pulling away again, sitting up in the bed and stretching both arms over his head. He had gone to bed the night before without a sleep-shirt on, so Billa was free to admire his bare chest as he stretched and flexed and –
“Show off.” Billa sniggered, realising that he was stretching far more than necessary because he had noticed her watching.
Thorin smirked back, climbing out of bed and turning towards the kitchen. “I will stop showing off when you stop enjoying it.” He announced, winking over his shoulder at her before walking away from the bed. “Tea?” He offered as he went, unaware of the way Billa stared at his muscular back as he walked.
She had seen him shirtless plenty of times during their quest, and she had even seen him completely naked before, but it never got old. He was a beautiful specimen of a dwarf. Billa suspected that she would not have been the only hobbit to ever fall for a dwarf if all dwarves looked the way Thorin did.
“Mm, please.” She replied, sitting up slowly and smoothing her tunic out. She pushed a hand through her bedraggled hair and yawned softly, unsure of whether or not she wanted to leave the bed when the fire wasn’t burning. The floor would be ice-cold under her feet, and she was so cosy under all of their furs and blankets…
“Would you like to try the ginger kind?” Thorin shouted from the kitchen, and Billa was sure that she could hear him filling the kettle.
They may have only discovered that she was pregnant the day before, but Thorin had already acquired some dried and fresh ginger, along with some dry foods from Bombur to keep in their private kitchen. He had left to gather some of the things that Oin had recommended whilst Billa had a nap – and had even gone so far as to visit the mountain’s seamstress and commission some looser clothing for his intended. Aforementioned seamstress already had Billa’s measurements, and hadn’t even asked Thorin why she needed anything loose. She probably just assumed that the hobbit was gaining weight – or wanted something more comfortable to wear, for whatever reason.
“Sure, I’ll give it a go… Do you remember how to make it, or should I come out there?” She questioned, knowing that Bombur had written down some instructions for the two of them on how to make the tea. He wasn’t a tea drinker himself, but he had told Thorin that his wife had lived off of ginger tea whilst she was pregnant. Thorin had of course covered for her and said Billa just wanted to try it for its uses in aiding digestion, but they had every intention of telling the company their news soon. They just wanted to inform Dori and Ori first.
“I can manage, I’ve got the note here in the kitchen, my heart. You stay in bed, it’s a little bit cold this morning. I suspect it’s too early to go to the food hall, in any case.” Thorin dictated, the clattering noises informing her that he was getting out the necessary ingredients and cups.
Billa nodded thoughtfully, wondering if they should go to breakfast or not. If they did go to breakfast someone was bound to ask why she hadn’t been at any of the meals the day before, and she was a terrible liar. She really did need to tell her brothers before she saw the company again.
Ten minutes later Thorin had the main fire going, and had brought a tray to the bed. He sat down against the headboard beside Billa, setting the tray down across his lap. On the tray was a small pot of honey, two empty cups, a teapot full of ginger tea and a plate of plain oat biscuits.
“I thought you might want something small to eat now, to test how your stomach is feeling today.” Thorin explained when he caught Billa eyeing the biscuits, smiling as he picked up the tea pot and poured them both a large drink each.
Billa definitely appreciated his thoughtfulness, especially since he was trying the ginger tea with her rather than having the other tea they kept in their kitchen. Billa wasn’t sure how she would have felt if she had to drink the odd new tea whilst Thorin got to indulge in a cup of their preferred leaf.
She leaned down to smell the tea, making an appreciative noise in her throat. It looked a little odd, pale and cloudy in appearance despite the lack of milk in it, but it smelled alright. The ginger had a strong and spicy smell to it, though there was something slightly sweet and citrusy underneath that. “Lemon?” Billa guessed, glancing up at her intended and smiling when he nodded.
“Bombur said that both lemon and honey go well with ginger, as it can be a bit overpowering alone, so I thought we might try that too. I added the juice of half a lemon to the tea, and there is a pot of honey there if you would like that as well.” Thorin elaborated, picking up his own cup and giving it a preliminary sniff.
Billa picked up a biscuit first, deciding to wait for Thorin to taste the beverage before she grabbed her own cup. She nibbled at the edges of the dry baked good, relieved when she felt no immediate nausea. If dry food and small meals were what it took to keep her from feeling sick, she was happy to comply. She just hoped the sickness wouldn’t last too long.
She watched as Thorin took a sip of the drink, his expression unsure as he swallowed and peered down into the cup. “It’s… Alright.” He dictated, shrugging one shoulder and putting the cup back down on the saucer. “Different, but not really a bad kind of different. I think it will probably be quite pleasant with some honey to sweeten it.” He decided, picking up the pot of honey and spooning a very generous amount into his cup.
“Would you put some in mine too…?” Billa requested, finishing her first biscuit and reaching for another.
Thorin nodded, putting a little less honey in hers than in his before sliding her cup across the tray towards her. They both knew that he liked his tea sweeter than she did, but Billa couldn’t help but wonder if the amount of honey he had put in his own cup might make the drink thick. “Are you going to drink that, or eat it?” She inquired, smiling when he rolled his eyes and huffed in amusement.
“Amrâlimê.” He scolded mildly, testing his tea again and nodding in satisfaction this time.
“How do you have such lovely teeth? They should be all rotten.” Billa insisted, putting the half eaten biscuit down and picking up her tea cup. She took a cautious sip, blinking in surprise at how pleasant it was. She could definitely live with having to drink the tea regularly, so long as there was some honey on hand. Bombur was right – the honey and lemon complimented the ginger perfectly. She would have to remember that for the next time she did any baking.
Thorin smiled crookedly at her, leaning in to peck her quickly on the cheek. “You think I have lovely teeth…?” He reiterated, one eyebrow raised smugly.
Billa snorted quietly, patting one of his pecs with the flat of her hand. “Oh shush, you.” She hummed, kissing his cheek in return. “Eat your tea.” She ordered, sniggering when he prodded her in the ribs in retaliation.
The two finished their tea and biscuits some time later, and Billa watched as Thorin got ready for a day of examining the mines with Dain. Since Erebor had been reclaimed, they had prioritised readying the accommodation levels, disposing of Smaug and separating out the treasury. The work in the treasury was well under way, and all of the apartments had been taken care of, so they needed a new focus. Dain had argued that they should start looking into which mines were safe and which mines contained the most riches, as Erebor’s biggest source of trade had always been its gems.
Thorin had not particularly wanted to go anywhere near Erebor’s mines or treasury again, but he saw the logic in it. They needed to know which mines could be used again, for the sake of any miners that might come to the mountain seeking work.
“I was thinking, perhaps we could invite your brothers into our rooms for lunch.” Thorin suggested as Billa smoothed out the front of his tunic for him, his gaze following her hands as she attempted to pat down a particularly stubborn crease in the material.
It warmed her heart to hear him say ‘our rooms’, despite the fact that she hadn’t moved in just yet. “Mm… That could work. Ply them with food and tea before we tell them… Might put them in a good enough mood to not overreact.” Billa allowed, scowling at the fabric under her hands and letting out a long-suffering sigh. She had to admit defeat, it just wasn’t working. It wasn’t like the crease was obvious, in any case. She might have to acquire a clothing iron, like the one her father had used to smooth out his shirts in the Shire. “Going to the market to retrieve some ingredients will give me something to do in the meantime.” She added, expression lightening at the thought. She did like the market.
Thorin gave her a look that needed no translation and she huffed, stepping back to glare at him a little. “Thorin Oakenshield, I am quite capable of going to the market alone. I am a month pregnant, not on the verge of giving birth at any moment.” She reprimanded him, folding her arms across her chest and narrowing her eyes in displeasure. She had hoped that he wouldn’t use her pregnancy as an excuse to molly-coddle her – Dori would be smothering enough with Thorin’s assistance. “The baby and I are fine to go shopping unaided.” She persisted, practically stomping to the drawers that she kept her blouses in. She slipped out of her tunic with ease, dressing in her underclothes and a blouse before returning to the wardrobe – where Thorin stood – to get a skirt.
“Billa…” Thorin began uncertainly, his expression conflicted as he watched her rummage through their clothing.
She grabbed a pale brown skirt and slipped it on easily, tying the lace fastening loosely so that it didn’t put any pressure on her still bloated middle. “Don’t ‘Billa’ me, you’re being silly. I have been to the market numerous times since I became pregnant, and nothing has ever happened before. Now, shoo, would you? You have to find Ori and Dori before you head off with Dain, to invite them to lunch.” She complained, making a shooing motion with her hands and rolling her eyes when the king did not budge. “I shall be wearing my garter-sheath as soon as I find it, Thorin. I will be perfectly safe, and I will walk slowly to minimise the risk of falling over. As though our currently weightless child might somehow trip me.” She scoffed, shaking her head as she turned away and began to look for her garter. She hadn’t worn it the day before, because she hadn’t dressed all day, so she wasn’t quite sure where she had left it. “Will that make you feel better, my love? Because I am telling you now, I am going to the market whether you like it or not.”
Thorin stared after her with a slightly mulish look in his eyes, but he sighed and heaved his shoulders in a shrug rather than arguing further. “Fine…” He grumbled, moving to the living-area so that he could sit down whilst he put on his boots. “Your garter is in the drawer in the bedside table, my heart. The one at your side of the bed.” He informed her, focussing on lacing his heavy leather boots as she bound over to investigate the bedside drawer.
“Thank you.” She breathed, fishing the garter out and sitting on the edge of the bed to slide it up her leg. She tightened up the buckles to hold it in place, checking that both daggers were there before standing and smoothing her skirt down once more. “Now, quit pouting, it doesn’t suit you.” She ordered with a smile, padding over and kissing the top of his head. “Do you have enough time for me to braid your hair for you…?” She offered, hoping to cheer him up again. She didn’t like fighting with him, but she wouldn’t let him mother her. It wasn’t as though she was eight months gone and ready to pop.
“If it would please you, amrâlimê.” He accepted, managing a small smile as she sat beside him.
Billa smiled back, grabbing her comb from where she had placed it on the table the night before. “It would! Can’t have my dwarf walking around looking unkempt, can I? People will think I don’t know how to look after you.” She defended, reaching up to loosen his messy braids and take out his beads.
She had seen them all before, but there were a couple that she was curious about. Two of them were immediately identifiable as Fili and Kili’s, as the two wore the exact same beads in their own hair. One bead held the rune of Kili’s name and an ornate looking bow and arrow, whilst the other had Fili’s rune and a pair of crossed long swords. A third bead had his own rune and symbol on it, and matched the bead she still wore around her neck. Thorin also had their engagement bead, and then three other beads that she couldn’t place. Seven beads in total.
Billa brushed his hair through before starting with his engagement bead, braiding it in the intricate courting fashion that he had taught her after they had first gotten engaged. He wore his own name bead, Fili’s bead and Kili’s beads the closest to the front of his face – along with their courting bead. The other three beads then went around the back of his head, starting with a dark blue one decorated with two odd-looking crossed axes. She held it out to Thorin before she used it, her expression inquisitive. “Who’s is this…?” She asked, rolling it around in her palm. “I know the one with the bow is Kili’s, and the two swords is Fili’s… But I don’t know this one.”
Thorin smiled kindly at her, taking the bead and running his thumb along the rune – that was undoubtedly someone’s name. “This is Dís’. It’s not uncommon for dwarven families to wear copies of each other’s beads, as a sign of familial pride. Dís wears one of mine in return.” He explained, seeming unbothered by her questions. He handed the bead back, gesturing to where she could put it. “I usually braid it close to Kili’s, as he reminds me more of his mother than Fili does. Their colouring is very alike, and Dís was once as mischievous and carefree as her youngest son.”
Billa nodded in understanding, picking up a new section of hair to braid. Once that was done, she looked at the other two beads more closely and realised that they were both the same design. One was smaller than the other, and slightly more worn looking, but they had to both be from the same dwarf. She thought about asking, before it dawned on her who they might belong to. If Thorin wore Dís bead, it only made sense to have a bead for Frerin too. Both beads were gold in colour, with a rune and a detailed looking battle-axe engraving that was studded with rubies. Far more expensive looking than any of the other beads – except maybe their engagement bead, but that was supposed to be fancy-looking.
“Frerin’s.” Thorin confirmed when the silence stretched, and Billa realised she had just been staring at the beads in her palm. “You look confused.” He noted, his voice soft and level.
The hobbit shook her head, not wanting to pry. “No, no, it’s fine. I was just… Thinking.” She excused, putting the smaller bead down on the table for safe-keeping whilst she began to braid the other beside Fili’s, where it had been before.
Thorin reached out to still her hand, turning towards her. “It’s okay, really. I know I don’t talk about him, and I probably should. I know about your family… You talked to me about what happened to them before we were even courting. I’ve been incredibly rude, not sharing this with you.” He reasoned, picking the smaller bead up from the table.
“Thorin, you don’t have to tell me anything… I understand. Talking about these things hurts, we don’t have to talk about it if it’s going to make you uncomfortable…” Billa argued, not wanting Thorin to feel like he was obliged to talk about it.
The king shook his head, smiling sadly and moving to face her properly. He placed one hand on her knee, giving it a fond squeeze. “I do want to talk about it… We shouldn’t have any secrets, and Dís says that I bottle things up far too often. I’m not ashamed of Frerin… I shouldn’t hide him from you.” He persisted, closing his fist around the bead in his hand.
Billa nodded slowly, prepared to listen so long as Thorin was prepared to talk. She had to admit that she was curious. She’d heard stories about Thror, Thrain, his mother Lís, Dís and even Dís’ late husband Vili. Frerin was the only member of Thorin’s immediate family that Billa hadn’t been told about. All she knew was that he had died in the fight for Moria, the same day that Thorin had also lost his father and his grandfather.
“This bead-” Thorin began, holding the smaller bead up between his thumb and forefinger. “-was the one that Frerin used to wear in his hair. I was there when he died, and I… Took it. There were so many dead after the Battle of Azanulbizar that we couldn’t bury anyone. There wasn’t time, and we didn’t have enough able-bodied dwarves to dig the graves. So… We had to create a funeral pyre. Everyone who died in that battle was burned together, and I never got to give Frerin the funeral he deserved. I didn’t even get to keep his ashes.” He shared, exhaling slowly.
Billa swallowed thickly, feeling awful for her intended. He had lost three of his family in one battle… A battle he didn’t want to happen in the first place. Thorin and Thrain had both thought the mission for Moria wouldn’t end well, just because of Durin’s Bane. They hadn’t even known that Azog would be there, and they still hadn’t wanted to go – but Thror was king, and his word was law. “…why is it so small?” She asked before she could stop herself, still a little confused. It was so much smaller than it’s duplicate, and so much smaller than any of Thorin’s other beads.
Thorin took a deep breath, handing the bead back to his intended and looking towards the fire. “Because he was forty-eight when he died.” He answered, clenching both of his hands together in his lap.
Forty-eight… Older than her, but she was a hobbit. So, he had been younger than her by dwarf standards… Much younger. Almost a child. “Mahal…” Billa breathed, her heart clenching in her chest.
“He was just nineteen when Smaug attacked Erebor. When we dwarves come of age, we fashion a proper hair bead for ourselves and the closest members of our family. Frerin wasn’t old enough to have such a thing. That bead was more of an unofficial name bead. Something he made himself before Erebor fell, practicing in the forges.” The royal dwarf elaborated, taking the larger bead and looking that one over. The craftsmanship was much better on the large bead, Billa noticed, and the rubies had been cut more skilfully. “I made this bead to match his, after Dís came of age and presented me with her bead… It was my way of coping with the fact that Frerin could never present us with it himself. I made one for her too, though she wouldn’t wear it to begin with. She was so young when he died that she found it harder to handle than I did… I tried to be there for her, but I was mourning too and I have never been very good with words. Not to mention I had just taken over as the heir to the throne, with father gone... I should have been a better brother to them both. I shouldn’t have let Frerin fight in the first place. I should have made him stay behind with Dís… I could have told him that he had to protect her, he would have accepted that. He would have done as I said.” He croaked, clearing his throat and raising his eyes to meet Billa’s once more.
“Thorin… You can’t blame yourself.” She crooned, shifting closer to her intended and leaning their foreheads together. “You were young; you couldn’t have known… If Frerin was anything like you, Thorin, you couldn’t have stopped him. He made the decision to fight, right…? No one forced him?”
“No… Nobody forced him. He wanted to join us… He’d never been in a battle before. He wanted to prove himself.” Thorin admitted, pressing a kiss to the end of her nose.
Billa smiled softly, putting both beads on the table and lacing their fingers together. She squeezed his hands gently in hers, raising one to kiss his knuckles. “He sounds exactly like you, in that respect.” She disseminated, rubbing her thumb into the back of his hand.
Thorin smiled back at that, snorting softly. “I suppose so. We were both foolish, stubborn young dwarves.” He mused, pulling one of Billa’s hands up to rest on the side of his face. “You would have liked Frerin.”
“Yeah…?” The hobbit pressed, cupping his cheek in her palm like he had wanted her to.
“Mm. He had such a good soul. One of the most playful and rambunctious dwarves I have ever met – yes, even more so than Kili. He brightened even the darkest days with his laughter, and nothing ever got him down. He spent more time living on the road than he did in Erebor, but he never cared. He had most of his family, and that was all that ever mattered to him.” Thorin described, his eyes fond as he recalled the few memories he had of his younger brother. “But he wasn’t naïve. He wasn’t blind to what had happened to us… He was just so sure that we would be okay. ‘It’s alright’ he’d say, ‘we’ll fix it’. He would have made a great king one day, he was so clever and charming… Far more charming than I am, that’s for sure. He wouldn’t have had problems negotiating with the elves, or anyone else for that matter.” He exposed, turning his face so that he could kiss the palm of her hand. “And yet he thought I would be the better king. He always said that of the three of us, I was born to rule. I used to look at him like he was a moron and say ‘Of course I was born to be rule – I was born first. That’s how succession works’, but he would roll his eyes and reply ‘That’s not why you’ll be king. You’ll be king because you are a good dwarf. People will want to follow you’. I never took it for the compliment it was until he was gone. I thought he was a fool at the time… Then after he died, I tried to be the good dwarf that he thought I was.”
Billa listened intently, and found that she agreed with Thorin. Frerin sounded like a great dwarf, and she understood why Thorin rarely talked about him. She could see the pain in his eyes, and she could tell that Thorin had loved his brother dearly. More so than their mother or father, Billa would guess. “I think Frerin would be proud of you, you know. You fixed it, just like he thought you would.” She imparted, moving her hand across his cheek and into his hair. “You took Erebor back. After your grandfather died your people wanted to follow you. They could have left for the Iron Hills, or given up hope and settled into human villages, but they followed you all the way to the Blue Mountains and you gave them a life there. Now they get to come back to Erebor… To their home.”
Thorin blinked hard, and his expression alone told her that he had never even considered that. It astounded her sometimes, knowing how little Thorin thought of himself. He had worse self-esteem issues than she did, and she hadn’t grown up royalty! She supposed that could be part of the problem, with people asking so much of him, but he was just so… Good. He was so incredible, and he just didn’t see it. “Come here.” Billa requested, holding her arms open and exhaling shakily when he all-but fell into them. He pressed in close, his own arms moving to wrap themselves around her waist as he buried his face in her neck. “You are so… Great, Thorin.” She told him, her tone firm and full of certainty. “Look at how far Erebor has come already. Look at how much you’ve done. You reclaimed the mountain. We might have helped, but we couldn’t have done it without you. We wouldn’t be here without you. You gave us direction – you inspired us. Hearing you sing in my smial made me walk all the way here for you. I wouldn’t have left the Shire for anyone else, and I don’t think that the company would have left the safety of the Blue Mountains for anyone else either. It was all you, okay?” She concluded, wishing that there was some way that she could convince him – but insecurities weren’t conquered in a day. That wasn’t how it worked, unfortunately.
“Thank you…” Thorin rumbled lowly, not disputing anything that she said. She suspected that he didn’t want to call her a liar, or cause an argument, but she let it drop. She wasn’t going to confront him when he was feeling so fragile, that wouldn’t be fair.
They would work on this, but it would take time. And they had plenty of time.
“Men lananubukhs menu, Billa.” He muttered into her neck, his lips ghosting over her skin.
Billa smiled to herself, rubbing a hand up his back and exhaling softly. “I know, my love…” She cooed, just holding him.
Dain could wait, and so could her brothers. All Billa cared about was making sure Thorin was okay. The last twenty-four hours has been incredibly trying for them both, and they were allowed to feel overwhelmed.
-
Billa returned to their rooms several hours later, weighed down with a wicker basket of food hanging from the crook of her arm. The plan was still to tell Dori and Ori after lunch, and then maybe break the news to the company after the evening meal.
The company were much less of a concern, and she wasn’t even worried about how Ori might react – Dori would be the real problem. Ori had always been quite supportive of her and Thorin, he would probably be thrilled.
Billa hadn’t really wanted to send Thorin away that morning, knowing how shaken he had been, but duty called and nothing the hobbit could say would stop the eldest Durin from going about his kingly business.
At least she could prepare a hearty lunch for him, she thought. That might brighten his day after his trip around the mines. A good meal usually managed to cheer Billa up.
She padded into the kitchen with her basket of goodies, setting it down on the kitchen table and beginning to root through her ingredients. She had managed to acquire a large loaf of crusty bread for her intended and her siblings, but had bought a smaller seeded load of bread for herself. The baker she had gotten them both from had assured her that the seeded bread was high in fibre, which had been exactly what she was looking for. They’d had similar kinds of bread back in the Shire, and they had been just divine. It would taste great, toasted and covered in honey, whilst still being plain enough that it wouldn’t bother her stomach.
For her boys she had bought a very decently priced wheel of cheese, along with several pre-cooked cuts of meat, some eggs and several bottles of fresh milk. The cheese and meat would make nice sandwiches with the fresh bread that she had bought, whilst the eggs could be boiled and sliced for easy finger-food. It wasn’t much, but it was good considering how little variety there was in the mountain at that time. It was winter, so many foods were out of season. The selection would not be amazing until spring returned and some new farms were created around Dale.
However, there was an abundance of flour and oats, as Dain had brought plenty of dry supplies from the Iron Hills.
Billa could still bake.
And she’d already had most of the ingredients for a simple ginger cake in her cupboards, the only thing she had been missing were the eggs. She would have to use honey instead of syrup, which was what she would have used back in the Shire, but that wouldn’t be an issue. It wouldn’t harm the taste or the texture of the cake, and she was sure her dwarves would like it just fine.
She busied herself with preparing the cake, since it would take the most time, only pausing for small drinks or trips to the bathroom. It might not have been hard work, but it kept her hands busy and helped her keep her mind off of worrying about Dori. She had meant what she had said the day before, but that didn’t stop her from feeling anxious about it now that it was happening.
Billa jumped in surprise when she heard a knock at the door, glancing down at the oven before dusting her hands off on her apron and leaving flour in her wake. She hadn’t been expecting anyone for at least another half hour – the cake wasn’t even done yet! The table wasn’t set; the dishes weren’t washed… It was a disaster, by hobbit standards.
She bound to the door despite all of this, not wanting to keep anyone waiting. She pulled it open, relaxing a little when she found Ori on the other side – dressed in his usual knitwear and hugging a book to his chest.
“I’m early, aren’t I…? I’m sorry, Thorin said to come for midday, but I finished sweeping the library and didn’t want to get started on another big job, only to have to stop before I was done…” The meek dwarf rambled, shuffling his feet awkwardly and glancing up and down the hall. After all of their talk of beads that morning, Billa couldn’t help but wonder why the Ri brothers didn’t have their own personalised beads. She would have to ask Thorin later – in case it was a sore spot for her siblings. She didn’t want to say anything that might upset them, hoping to put them in a good mood with her food before they delivered their news.
Billa held a hand up to stop him, smiling widely at her youngest brother. “Ori, it’s fine. Please, come in. You can keep me company whilst I bake!” She offered, stepping aside and gesturing for him to enter their rooms.
She had of course tidied around the apartment after Thorin had left earlier, making sure that everything was put away and the floors were swept so that Dori could find nothing to complain about when he arrived. There were fires burning in the living-area and the kitchen, keeping the apartment toasty warm – more for Billa’s benefit than anyone else’s.
She still wasn’t used to how cold the mountain could get – especially at night.
“Join me in the kitchen. I can sneak you a snack or two before the others arrive, if you like.” She bribed him, closing the door behind him and grinning when he perked up. Ori might not have been a hobbit, but even dwarves enjoyed their treats on occasion.
Billa lead the way into the kitchen, filling the kettle and setting it over the fire to boil without asking Ori if he would want tea – knowing full well that he would, because it was Ori and he was one of the few dwarves in the mountain partial to the drink.
“What is that smell…?” Ori asked as he walked in behind her, inhaling deeply and looking excited as he peered into the pot of boiling eggs hanging over the other side of the fire.
Billa snorted quietly, putting her hands on his shoulders and directing him towards the table. “It’s not the eggs, I can tell you that much.” She laughed, giving his back a pat once he had sat down. “I am baking a cake, but it is not done yet. Would you like an oat cake, and some cheese?” She asked, checking on the eggs before pulling the newly acquired cheese wheel from her basket.
“That would be great, thank you Billa.” The young dwarf answered eagerly, setting his book down on the table beside him. “I must say… You look very well today.” He remarked, eyeing her as she pottered about preparing cheese and biscuits on a plate for him. “You must have needed that rest-day.” He noted, beginning to fiddle with a stray thread on his glove.
“Mm.” Billa hummed in agreement, handing Ori his plate of ‘light’ snacks before busying herself with setting the table. She placed a plate in front of each chair, except for Ori’s, along with an empty tea cup and a set of cutlery. “I’ve been so exhausted lately, I was beginning to feel very downtrodden.” She confessed without lying, filling a pitcher with the milk from the market. She put the pitcher down in the middle of the table with a couple of spare cups, leaving it there for people to help themselves. She began to set the meats and cheese on a large wooden platter, ready to put it on the table when the other two arrived.
Ori nodded in understanding, tucking into a biscuit and watching as Billa retrieved the freshly boiled kettle from the fire and went about making some tea. “I don’t suppose your fatigue could be some kind of… Lady-thing?” He wondered, though he did look a little uncomfortable with his own question.
Billa laughed softly, amused by how close he was. It was a ‘lady-thing’, just not the lady-thing he was thinking of. She hadn’t had that lady-thing in quite some time. “It’s possible. I brought it up with Oin, but he isn’t concerned.” She said, managing to tell the truth again without arousing any suspicion. It was true, after all. She had spoken to Oin about it, and he wasn’t worried – because nothing was wrong, she was just pregnant.
“Oh good. Dori will be pleased to hear that. He was most concerned yesterday… Almost came up here to visit once or twice, but I kept reminding him that you had chosen to stay in Thorin’s room for the privacy. You weren’t to be bothered.” Her brother told her, picking another biscuit up and eating that one too.
Billa smiled gratefully, pouring her brother a cup of tea before doing the same for herself and sitting down beside him. “Thank you, Ori. That was very good of you. I know how… Officious Dori can be sometimes. But I spent the whole day in my sleep-clothes and my dressing-gown, so I would have been very boring company. I doubt Dori would have felt any better watching me nap in front of the fire.”
“Officious…! I don’t think I’ve ever heard a better word to describe our brother.” Ori laughed, though he did glance toward the door nervously – like Dori might walk in and catch them talking about him. “He does mean well, though.”
“I know he does. And I appreciate that. He just needs to calm down a little is all. Maybe things will be better once everything has settled and Nori has returned… Oh! Perhaps he will improve when your mother arrives?” Billa suggested, spooning sugar into her tea. She had decided to go for a regular leaf-tea, rather than the ginger kind, since her stomach wasn’t feeling too awful.
Ori shrugged in a non-committal manner, looking unsure. “He managed to molly-coddle me back in the Blue Mountains, even with our mother around. I suppose she does reign him in somewhat, but he spent much of our youth looking after us whilst mother worked to put food on the table. I think he feels like a parent to Nori and I, rather than a brother. He’s been this way ever since our father left.” He revealed, taking the sugar pot when she offered it to him.
“Left? I thought he died.” She pressed, confused. That wasn’t what she had heard – none of the brothers liked to talk about their father, but Billa had always gotten the impression that he had passed away. Ori made it sound like he left of his own accord.
“No, he walked out on our mother. Gave no reason, just packed his bag and left one night… Nori saw him go. Our mother was still pregnant with me at the time, so I never knew him, but Nori and Dori remember. Dori tells everyone that he died, simply because that is more respectable than hearing that he abandoned us… And he did leave the Blue Mountains that night, never to be seen again, so no one knew for sure that he hadn’t died. All we know is that he willingly abandoned us.” The bookish dwarf disclosed, looking a little uncomfortable.
“Mahal, I didn’t know…” She sighed, reaching up to play with her engagement bead. It finally made sense why Dori was so odd about her relationship with Thorin – and why none of the Ri brothers had partners. They had trust issues. She knew they were all slow to trust, but she hadn’t known why. Now she did.
Ori shrugged again, turning his head towards the main room when the front door opened. He finished his biscuit in a rush, as though Thorin might tell him off for eating before lunch, and Billa shot him an amused look.
“Amrâlimê…?” The king called from the other room, closing the door behind him. Billa thought she heard him stoke the fire in the living-area, before adding another couple of logs.
“In here, sweetheart.” She shouted back, standing from the table and moving to the oven to check on her cake. Thorin padded in behind her just as she put on her oven-gloves and she grinned, turning to face him and raising her gloved hands to grab his face. She steered him into a kiss, beaming against him as he laughed into her mouth. “Good afternoon.” She breathed when they broke apart, wrinkling her nose cutely at the sight of her intended’s pink face.
“It is now.” He replied, turning towards Ori and offering the other dwarf a slightly embarrassed smile. “Hello, Ori… Thank you for joining us for lunch today. Do you know when Dori might be joining us…?” He queried, licking his bottom lip and moving to examine the food platter on the kitchen side. Billa swatted his hand with her oven-glove when he reached for a cut of roast chicken, and grinned when he cast a wounded look her way.
Ori scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly, picking up his tea with his other hand and taking a sip. “I know he had a commission to work on today, but he shan’t be late. Dori has always had a talent for timekeeping… I finished early, so I arrived early. Dori tends to arrive precisely when you tell him to.”
Billa snorted at that as she bent over to pull the cake from the oven. She put the cake down on the side, patting the top to see if it would spring back and nodding to herself when it did. She put the tin on top of a wire rack but did not remove the cake, leaving it to cool as it was. The tin would keep it warm for a little while, so they could enjoy it warm after their lunch – so long as Dori was on time.
And didn’t throttle Thorin once he heard their news.
“That is fair enough… Is there any more tea, my heart?” Thorin checked, peering over his hobbit’s shoulder to look at the cake. “That smells divine… And a little like that tea we had this morning. Is it ginger?”
Billa grinned, removing her oven-gloves before standing on her toes to kiss the regal dwarf’s nose. “It is, well done.” She praised, planting another kiss on his cheek as she passed him to retrieve the teapot. She rolled her eyes a little when he puffed up proudly, looking pleased with himself. Thorin wasn’t the best at identifying different foods or spices, by taste or smell, and had once asked Bombur if a deer supper was beef. Beef! Billa had never let him forget it. “There is plenty of tea, dear. The sugar pot is on the table by Ori.” She announced, picking up the teapot and pouring Thorin a cup. She gestured to the seat beside hers for Thorin to sit down, but he hesitated – hovering beside her.
“Do you need any help…?” He chimed, and there was something in his eyes that told Billa exactly why he was asking.
She rolled her eyes again, huffing and giving him a little push towards the chair in question. “Thorin, I am quite capable of preparing lunch by myself. Almost everything is already done, we are just waiting on Dori.” She insisted, returning to the counter to slice up the crusty loaf of bread and add it to the platter of meat and cheese. She then took the time to cut three or four slices of seeded bread from the smaller loaf for herself, putting them on a separate plate so that she could toast them later.
As if on cue, a knock sounded at the front door and silenced Thorin before he could offer to help again. “If you wish to be of assistance, you could answer the door.” Billa said, laughing a little when she saw the slight terror in her dwarven lover’s eyes. “Go, Dori isn’t going to brutalise you for answering the door, Thorin. Although he might if you leave him waiting.” She joked, shaking her head in amusement as the king bolted from the room to answer the door. She pulled the pan of boiling eggs from the fire, draining away the water and running them under the cold tap for a moment to cool them.
“Dori.” Billa heard him utter respectfully in the other room, and she could just picture him dipping his head in greeting – as he often did.
“Thorin.” Dori said curtly in response, appearing in the kitchen door as Billa moved to pour another cup of tea ready for him. “Billa, good afternoon… Thank you for inviting us for lunch.” He purred, his tone much more pleasant as he walked over and wrapped an arm around her shoulders in a brief hug.
“It was our pleasure, Dori – and it was actually Thorin’s idea.” She informed him, not wanting to take credit. Not to mention it wouldn’t hurt to try and improve the relationship between her eldest brother and her intended. Especially not now that they would be having child together. “Please, have a seat beside Ori. There’s a cup of tea waiting for you.”
Dori said nothing regarding Billa telling him that lunch had been Thorin’s idea, instead letting go of her and sitting down next to his brother. Thorin moved to sit opposite Dori rather than beside him, taking Billa’s seat – but not before shooting her an apologetic look.
Billa shrugged in response, putting the platter of food in the middle of the table and running a hand along Thorin’s shoulder blade’s comfortingly on her way back to the pan of eggs.
Less than a half hour of stilted-conversation later the four of them had finished their lunch and were each enjoying a piece of ginger cake with a fresh cup of tea. Billa took a deep breath when she felt Thorin’s hand settle over her knee underneath the table and she turned to look at him, her heart aching when she saw how anxious he looked. She knew that he felt just as nervous as she did – if not more. Billa didn’t think that Dori would react too rashly, because he loved her, but Thorin didn’t have quite as much faith in the elderly jeweller.
“This cake is really rather delightful, Billa… I’m not sure that I’ve ever had a cake this good.” Dori claimed, oblivious to Billa and Thorin’s discomfort as he finished off the last mouthful of his slice. Ori bobbed his head in agreement, eyeing the rest of the cake longingly where it sat on the kitchen side behind the table.
Billa had only eaten half of her own slice, not wanting to overeat and risk making herself sick once more. She stood, picking up the plate of cake and bringing it to the table. She had moved the now empty platter from the table earlier, so she put the plate down beside the teapot and offered her brothers a small smile. “I am glad you like it… Help yourself to more, if you would like it.” She encouraged, returning to her seat and placing a hand on Thorin’s arm in support. “Would you like the last of my slice, Thorin? I think my eyes might be bigger than my belly – I couldn’t possibly stomach another mouthful.” She crooned, squeezing the muscle in her grip and offering the regal dwarf a smile.
Dori frowned a little at that, glancing to Billa’s unfinished slice of cake as he served himself and Ori another piece each. “I have noticed that you are eating less, Billa… Are you quite alright?” He pried, his brow furrowed with concern. Concern that soon turned to suspicion when he noticed Thorin stiffen in the chair opposite him. “What is it?”
Thorin shifted his chair closer to Billa’s, wrapping one arm around her waist and splaying a hand across her middle – under the table, where Dori thankfully couldn’t see. “We may have had ulterior motives for inviting you here today.” The king confessed, trailing his fingers across his intended’s stomach.
Billa cleared her throat softly, leaning into Thorin’s side and greatly appreciating the soothing way the dark haired dwarf stroked her midriff. “We have some news.” She continued for her lover, knowing that he was the most scared of the two of them – and thinking that Dori would prefer to hear the news from her, anyway. She glanced between her siblings, swallowing thickly and exhaling quietly. “I have been feeling rather unwell as of late, so I took the day off yesterday to rest and… And see Oin.” She explained, resting one hand on Thorin’s knee. “It’s nothing bad! Quite the opposite…” She assured her brothers when both of their faces dropped, wishing she had prepared something to say but knowing that the best way to break the news would be to just… Say it. “…I’m pregnant.”
Ori’s face lit up immediately, and he jumped from his seat so quickly that Billa startled a little. He all-but ran around the table, stopping behind her to wrap both arms around her shoulders and give her an affectionate squeeze. “Mahal, Billa, you had me worried!” He laughed, his voice full of joy and youthful exuberance. “That is wonderful news…!” He exclaimed, remaining draped over her shoulders with her chin resting on the top of her head. “I am going to be an uncle! And I can knit all sorts of little clothes for the baby… I mean, can I knit for the baby? Would you mind???”
Billa laughed softly, a weight lifting from her chest as she placed both of her hands over Ori’s and gave them a relieved pat. “Of course you can, Ori, I would love it if you did-” She began, stopping when Dori cleared his throat loudly. She turned to look at her older brother, the weight returning to her chest when she saw the thunderous way that he was staring at Thorin.
His arms were crossed over his chest, and if looks could kill then Erebor would need a new king. “You got my sister pregnant, without marrying her first?” He rumbled dangerously, the vein in his forehead twitching noticeably.
Ori released Billa to stand up straight, his expression full of confusion. “Does it matter, Dori? Mahal has blessed our sister with a child-” He began, trying to defend both Billa and Thorin from the older dwarf’s wrath.
“Of course it matters!” Dori spat, looking furious. Billa’s heart sank and she glanced up at Thorin uncertainly, though she was unsure what to make of her intended’s expression – which was oddly neutral. “You will need to get married at once – I would rather have waited at least two more seasons for the two of you to be wed, and I would rather have Nori around, but that choice appears to have been taken from us.” Dori continued, pushing away from the table and rising to his feet. Thorin remained seated, but Billa felt him stiffen minutely beside her.
“Dori, we are not getting married because I am pregnant! We will get married when we are good and ready and not a moment sooner. Thorin is not going to skip out on me just because I am pregnant now, he will wait. And he will help me raise our child whether we are married or not, we do not need to be wed for this to work.” She disputed immediately, not about to let her brother bully her into getting married. She was sure that she would marry Thorin someday, but she had no intention of rushing. She had a lot to learn before she would be a suitable queen, and she wasn’t going to get married and accept all of that responsibility until she was sure that she was ready.
It wasn’t as simple as just getting married. She wouldn’t just be marrying Thorin, she would be committing herself to the entire kingdom. She needed to be prepared.
“Don’t be ridiculous! It’s unheard of, you can’t start a family without getting married first. The only people who raise families unmarried are those who have been abandoned by their partners!” Dori growled, and Billa recognised the pain in his eyes. She wondered if the Ri brothers’ parents had been married – and whether or not that would have made a difference. Seeing Dori look so hurt derailed her own frustration a little, and she hesitated before answering.
“It’s also unheard of for a dwarf to fall in love with a hobbit, but it happened. I understand that you wish for this to be done the ‘proper’ way, Dori, but I will not force Billa into marriage before she is ready. It is her decision, not yours. And regardless of whether or not we are married, we are welcoming a child into the world and we would like it a great deal if you could be happy for us.” Thorin interjected, saving Billa from having to answer at all. She glanced up at her love, surprised at how resolute his expression was – despite how fiercely Dori was glaring.
Dori seemed to grow in height at that, puffing up angrily for a moment. He obviously didn’t appreciate the implication that he was not happy for them, but what evidence was there that he was? He hadn’t even congratulated them. The white-haired dwarf turned his gaze to Billa, almost like he expected her to scold Thorin for the way he had spoken to her brother, but really… Billa thought he deserved a certain amount of curtness when he was being so unreasonable.
His expression seemed to falter when his eyes met Billa’s and he deflated a little, sighing lowly. “…I am happy for you. Ori is right, this baby is a gift... I just worry for you, sister. I do not want Thorin to leave you alone with a child to look after. Nori, Ori and I would support you of course, but I know that would not be the same as the child having a father in their life.” He muttered softly, and Billa couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him as his eyes flickered to Ori. She rose from her seat, surging forwards to wrap her arms around her oldest sibling’s chest. Dori hugged her back just as eagerly, pressing his face into her hair.
“Thorin isn’t going anywhere, Dori. This is going to be fine. In any case, do you think any member of the company would let him abandon me? Do you think I would let him abandon me? Carrying his child will make me no less capable of running him through if he tries to leave.” Billa promised, giving him a little squeeze and smiling fondly when she heard him laugh against her.
Dori pulled back after a moment, eyeing her closely before patting her shoulder gently. “That is very true… And even if he got away from you, he wouldn’t get away from Nori.” He decided, smiling tentatively at the hobbit in his grip.
“Exactly. There are plenty of people prepared to kill him if he tries to walk out on me. And plenty of people willing to take care of me and this child if, Mahal forbid, anything ever happens to Thorin.” She accepted with a toothy grin, stepping forwards for another quick hug before returning to her intended’s side.
Thorin merely looked amused when she turned back to look at him, and he shrugged slightly when their eyes met. He knew it was true as much as she did – but he didn’t have any intention of leaving her. “I would never throw away a child, or my One, like that.” He insisted, getting up and moving to stand beside Billa. “So if I ever do, you have my permission to kill me – for I must not be myself.” He invited, his expression completely serious now.
Billa blinked a little in shock, but didn’t bother to dispute the statement. Thorin would never abandon her, so no one would need to kill him. And if Thorin saying such a thing put Dori’s mind at ease, then she could leave it be.
Dori seemed to regard the king for a long moment, something not unlike respect in his expression. “I am glad to hear it… How far along are you?” He hummed, directing the last part at Billa – his expression doting as he did.
Billa smiled fondly at him, pleased with how things had gone. All things considered, he could have taken the news worse. He had only asked them to get married – he hadn’t threatened Thorin or acted disappointed with Billa. “Just a month, but hobbits aren’t pregnant for as long as dwarves… We will probably be welcoming this baby within the next three seasons.” She shared, sitting back down again and settling a hand over her stomach.
The others soon joined her, taking their seats once more and returning to their tea and cake. “Three seasons…? Mahal, that is not long at all… How does the babe have time to grow?” Ori remarked, his brow furrowed uncertainly.
“I guess fauntlings just need less time to grow. Probably because they age faster and lead shorter lives than dwarves. But we are not sure how dwarven our child might be, so it could still be longer than three seasons… It’s too soon to tell.” Billa reasoned, not sure what else to say. She was a little worried about that, if she was entirely honest.
What if she was pregnant for longer…? She could imagine that being awfully uncomfortable – she saw how big hobbits got in the Shire and she couldn’t imagine being that big for so long.
Mahal, it was going to be a long year – but at least they would get something wonderful at the end of it. A little one of their own.