Courting

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"Now hold still, Fíli. I'm almost done."

The hobbit had spent every waking moment of the last week tending to the oldest prince of Erebor, fighting against an infection that had set into Fíli's thigh wound. Glóin, Dori, and Bombur had been a tremendous help, the three of them taking care of Frodo or preparing meals and gathering ingredients while Bilbo was busy with Óin and Fíli. All of the other Company members were assisting Thorin with the traitors, something that Bilbo wanted no part of anymore. That particular issue was an internal dwarf problem and none of them objected to Bilbo's preferred distance from it.

"There we go, another poultice ready for action," said the hobbit with a tired grin. "And some of the inflammation and redness is finally starting to go down. Óin should be very pleased when he returns for the night."

"I don't hear the lil' ones," mumbled Fíli. "Where'd they go?"

Bilbo crawled over to the edge of the large bed and peeked around the curtains, a cluster of quiet voices soon drawing his attention to the far corner of the room. Frodo and Donel were sequestered near a far off bookcase, dozens of toys scattered about as they defeated a dark lord figurine that Bifur had carved the other week. The hobbit could hear Dwina's voice inside the prince's small kitchens, Bombur's delicious cooking luring the dwarf girl away from her friends without fail. It had taken several days to assure the children enough for them to stray from their parents' sides, but they all appeared to be recovering from their very scary ordeal without too much lasting damage.

"The boys are waging war in the corner and Dwina appears to be helping Bombur in the kitchen," said Bilbo. "I think we have a budding chef on our hands, from the looks of it."

"Bombur will be pleased," muttered Fíli, sleep tugging at his eyes yet again. "He's real fond of children, and Dwina would make a good apprentice for him. It'd be hilarious, too."

"Why?"

"Have you seen how bossy that little girl is?" said Fíli, wincing when Bilbo tied off the poultice edges. "Poor Bombur won't stand a chance. She'll be ruling Erebor's kitchens in less than a decade."

Bilbo laughed. "You might be right about that. Now, the pain tonic should start to kick in soon, so I think a nap's in order for you."

"Ugh, all I've been doing is sleeping. It's boring."

"That it may be," conceded Bilbo, "But your infection's finally beginning to clear up and sleeping will fight it off quicker than anything else. Besides, you still have a bit of a fever and it might break during a good nap. And Bombur should have supper ready once you're done with it, anyways. No cupcakes yet."

"Awwww, no fair..."

Bilbo tucked the quilts in tight around Fíli and then cleaned up the scattered supplies he'd left all over the bed. Placing those on a nearby table, the hobbit made his way into the tiny kitchen that Bombur was happily toiling away in. From the smells of it, the plump dwarf was making a delightful chicken and vegetable soup that would be very easy on Fíli's stomach while also filling the ravenous bellies of the little ones and Company as well.

"That smells fantastic, Bombur! Do I smell a hint of parsley?"

"Aye, that it is," said the large dwarf with a pleased smile. "I wanted to add a little bit of extra flavor to the broth without upsetting Fíli's stomach again, so parsley and some thyme were the only things I could think of. Would you like a taste?"

"Of course, now lets see here," muttered Bilbo as he sampled some broth from the dwarf's giant ladle. "It's superb as usual, Bombur. And the noodles should sit rather well with Fíli's stomach. Mmmm, I do love those noodles."

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