Of Dragons, Dwobbits and Dwarves

Chapter Twenty-Two

Bilba didn't see her father again for several days. Vili assured her that he was fine and simply trying to come to terms with things without upsetting her any further.

She spent most of her time with Syrath and Fili. By this point the number of Council Meetings had died down. Not because progress had been made, but because there was no more to be had.

They knew nothing.

There were still no signs of any orcs. Bilba had even gotten one of the other dragons to take her out, near the pass and even Moria, hoping to lure them out.

Nothing.

She had flown back, passing over wide paths and valleys of silence and stillness, like all the land was holding its breath in anticipation of...something.

It was unsettling, and people were picking up on it. There was a tension that hadn't been there before, an unnatural quiet in the marketplace, mothers hushing their children as if they spoke out of turn in a library.

Vili had stepped up the guards, continued to send Vanguard out even when there was nothing for them to do and, together, apart...they waited.

Bilba just wished she knew for what.

In the end, it was a relief when her father appeared in the entrance to the dragon levels, not just to see him but to escape the anxiety she had been living under.

He stopped long enough to greet Xalanth and Syrath and then stood in front of her, an oddly nervous look in his eyes. "I want to show you something."

He headed out of the room and Bilba obediently fell in alongside him.

It was still very early but the corridors were already crowded with nobility trying to push their agendas before their peers could do the same. Many sent her chilly looks only to snap to attention as Dwalin growled at them.

"Now what's got them all knotted up?" he asked as they passed yet another noble stupid enough to glare at her in his presence.

If I'm your daughter, it makes it less likely they can challenge my being with Fili. Bilba responded.

He frowned. "What do they care about that?"

They have daughters, Bilba said, dryly.

He grunted.

Does he still get a lot of attention? Bilba asked, trying to keep her voice casual. Now that he's courting me?

The word sounded strange, courting. It was not a word she would have ever associated with herself and, in some ways, the thought was still surreal.

Even more, Dwalin answered, his voice annoyed. Fool headed girls think they need to convince him that he's supposed to be with them before he makes the mistake of marrying the wrong person.

Which would be me, Bilba said, disgruntled.

In about twenty years, Dwalin growled, at least. You're still five years out from your Coming of Age. You've got plenty of time.

Bilba raised an eyebrow but didn't point out the disparity between her Coming of Age being five years away and him not wanting her to get married for twenty or more.

They lapsed into silence as he led her onto the royal levels. They traveled past room after room, one of them being Frerin's. Bilba had gone in once, wanting to get a better understanding of the dwarf she'd met so briefly but who had changed her life so completely. The dark and silent rooms were kept exactly the way he'd left them on that last day, down to a pair of discarded boots in one corner and an old tunic tossed on the bed. She'd only stayed a moment and then left. The room was a shadow, a mere echo of its former occupant. She would no more find him in there than she would find her mother in Moria.