Homeward Bound Part One: An Unexpected Journey

Chapter Thirty-Six

The braid Thorin put in her hair was identical to the one he already wore, the one she'd redone for him in the tunnels. When she raised an inquisitive eye at him he shrugged.

"I've grown rather fond of it." She leaned her head back against his shoulder as he reached up to tug lightly on his own braid. "This braid shows I'm the current head of the line of Durin, no other may wear it except, if I so choose, my One."

Bilba reached up to trail her hand along the braid plaited in her hair, ending at the bead securing it at the bottom. "Trust you not to do things the traditional way," she said dryly. "Lucky for you it's one of the things I like about you."

"Like?" Thorin's voice rumbled. "Is that all it is? I thought I heard a stronger sentiment expressed in there somewhere."

She'd been sitting between his knees for him to braid her hair and now he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. She responded by sliding a hand behind his head and drawing him down for a kiss.

"Did you?" Bilba said, amused. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

As she spoke her stomach twisted and she grimaced, her hand automatically flinching in his hair. She put her hand down and looked away, trying to hide her expression.

Thorin caught it, his eyes narrowing. "What's wrong?"

Bilba sighed and explained, adding that she'd already talked to Oin and gotten herbs to help.

"Here's hoping I won't end up sick by the time we reach Lake-town," she said, her voice annoyed. She reached out and poked him deliberately in the chest. "Though if we do I'm blaming you. You did this to me."

He raised an eyebrow. "And how do you figure that?"

"I was stressed out over you," she replied. "Stress caused nausea which, according to Oin, is making me sick."

"I hardly think it was my fault that I got locked in the cellar," he replied dryly.

Bibla had to physically bite her tongue to keep from responding. Instead she simply, slowly, raised an eyebrow. Really? What had it been Thranduil had said about creative insults again?

Thorin rolled his eyes.

"In any event," he said, "I'm here now so you hardly have anything left to concern yourself with."

"Except the last stop on our visit to things in Middle Earth that want to eat us," Bilba said slowly.

"You won't be anywhere near the dragon," Thorin said, his body tensing. "We've already discussed that."

Actually they'd yelled about it and come to no consensus whatsoever but she really didn't feel like a repeat so, rather than respond, she simply leaned against him once more and gave a non-committal sound he could interpret any way he wanted. He apparently chose to take it as consent of some kind, he had a tendency to suddenly get optimistic at the oddest points, because she felt him relax minutely behind her.

Her stomach settled and then promptly growled at her, reminding her she'd only taunted it with a morning meal that it had promptly rejected.

"Come on," Thorin said, beginning to move. "I believe the others said they were headed to dinner. We should join them."

He gently moved her off his lap, stood and then reached a hand down to pull her up. Once up he offered her an arm that she took and allowed her to lead the way into the hall.

Outside it was quiet, the rooms silent. Thorin explained the elves had set aside a small dining room for them.

The fact that Thorin was the one who knew where it was worried her, until they turned a corner to see Fili leaning against a wall.