Bilba had worked her way through the equivalent of breakfast, second breakfast, elevenses and was halfway through tea before a knock sounded on the door.

Thranduil called out permission and the door promptly opened to admit Tauriel. Behind her strode Thorin, fresh from a bath, his beard neatly trimmed, braids redone and dressed once again in his armor and Coat of Majesty. The only thing he was missing was his sword, but Bilba could understand why the elves might not want guests traipsing about their palace armed.

As he came in she felt her heart jump in her chest and, before she was fully aware, had pushed back from the table. She ran over to him, leapt up on his steel capped boots, pushed up on her toes, flung her arms around his neck and kissed him.

He barely had a chance to kiss her back before she broke it off, leaning back to where her weight hung off her arms. Thorin slid his own arms around her waist, interlocking his hands at the small of her back to brace her.

"Hi," Bilba said quietly.

A slow grin spread across Thorin's face.

"Hello." His eyes flickered over her clothing and hair. "You look like you're feeling better."

Bilba grinned. "I imagine I look a sight better too."

Thorin's eyes locked onto hers. "You only ever look beautiful to me."

Bilba's mind locked up and she proceeded to simply stare at him, her mouth slightly agape. Thorin gave her an amused look, his lips quirking upward in a smirk.

Before she could fashion any sort of response he looked past her and Bilba saw his eyes darken. With a start she remembered they weren't exactly alone in the room and felt her face heat. Pulling herself up on her toes once more she leaned into Thorin's face, her forehead touching his.

"Please, just listen to what he has to say. You did promise."

His eyes narrowed. "When was this?"

"You promised me you'd keep your feelings about our hosts to yourself."

"That was about the guards."

"You didn't say that," Bilba insisted. "You said hosts."

Really, he was a King, he should know better than to make promises without being absolutely sure of what he was agreeing to.

Behind her there was silence from the rest of the room. Bilba was surprised Thranduil hadn't spoken up yet. She imagined Glorfindel probably had something to do with it.

"Please?" She whispered, pulling herself even closer, "just hear him out?"

His eyes darkened but he gave her the barest inclination of his head.

"As you wish."

He didn't sound happy about it but when Bilba leaned in he kissed her freely enough.

She jumped off his boots and turned to face the room. It had occurred to her, as she'd waited for him, that he was about to hear just how deep his grandfather's illness had truly run. It was not something anyone would want to hear, least of all in front of an audience.

Bilba curtsied politely to Thranduil.

"Thank you for hospitality, your Majesty. If it's all right I think I'll retire for now. It has been a long day."

Thranduil nodded at her, his eyes unreadable. "Of course. It was...interesting to meet you, to say the least." He gestured languidly toward Legolas. "My son will show you to your guest quarters."

Bilba nodded.

She cast a glance at Glorfindel and saw him studying her. Bilba tried to communicate to him with her eyes, not something she'd ever been good at.

Glorfindel was over six thousand years old, however, and was apparently quite adept at silent communication. He gave her a barely imperceptible nod and settled back in his chair. Bilba felt something inside her relax minutely. At least she wouldn't have to worry about Thranduil and Thorin trying to strangle one another the second she'd stepped out of the room.

Legolas had gotten up and rounded the table, indicating the door with one hand as he came.

"Shall we, Miss Baggins?"

Bilba nodded and turned. Thorin was looking at her, a question in his eyes. Bilba grabbed his arm and reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek. As she pulled back she leaned into his ear for a brief second and whispered, "I'll see you in a little while."

She walked out after that and Tauriel closed the door, leaving her with one final sight of Thorin standing alone in the room facing Glorfindel and Thranduil.

"I'm sure he'll be fine."

She looked up at Legolas and forced a smile, trying to quell the sudden churning in her gut. "I'm sure you're right."

Guilt lingered as they walked down the hall though she believed she'd made the right choice. She wouldn't want an audience while her enemy told her the truth about a loved one.

Of course it was highly possible he wouldn't even believe Thranduil.

Did she believe him?

Bilba thought back to the look in the elven King's eyes and the tone of his voice.

She did believe him.

Legolas stopped suddenly and Bilba frowned in confusion before realizing they stood in a long hall with doors on either side. From behind several of them she could hear familiar voices. Relief flooded her, though her traitorous stomach continued to rebel. Eating a huge amount of food after going with so little for three weeks might not have been her best idea.

She nodded at Legolas. "Thank you."

He returned the nod and gave a slight bow. "Any time, it's been a pleasure meeting you."

Bilba gave him a dry smile. "Even after I yelled at your father?"

He laughed. "Especially after. It was quite entertaining."

Bilba rolled her eyes. Legolas showed her to an empty room at the end of the hall and took his leave.

Once he was gone Bilba barely made it into the room before losing nearly all of what she'd eaten that morning. Even after she still had a nauseous feeling and found herself wishing desperately for a cup of soothing tea, only to immediately feel another bout of nausea at the thought of eating or drinking ANYTHING.

After a few minutes her stomach settled, somewhat, and she felt well enough to leave her room. She knocked on the nearest door and soon found herself caught up in a reunion with her, no longer imprisoned, friends. All the doors were soon open and most of them were in the hall itself. Bilba was happy to see her friends had all been allowed to bathe and get cleaned up. Their clothing, if not weapons, had been returned as well, a fact which she saw annoyed Dwalin who was quite, if not overly, attached to his axes.

The best sight of all, however, was probably Fili and Kili. Both had seen their uncle alive and well and the effect on their overall demeanor was dramatic. Fili looked years younger, his face no longer lined with tension and Kili laughed so much it was a wonder he didn't hurt himself.

Fili threw both arms around her the second he saw her, lifting her physically off her feet and swinging her in a circle.

The action did not help her stomach and she was forced to grip his shoulders hard, biting down on her lip and trying to breathe carefully in through her nose and out through her mouth in a desperate attempt to not throw up al over him.

Fili set her down immediately with a frown, his hands on her shoulders.

"Bilba, are you all right?"

"Fine," Bilba said, "just haven't been feeling all that well today."

"You haven't been feeling all that well lately," Fili said, his voice flat, and Bilba looked at him in surprise. She'd thought she'd been doing a good job of hiding it.

Fili called out for Oin and Bilba sighed, trying to wave him off.

"I'm fine, Fili. It isn't a big deal."

He roundly ignored her and Bilba soon found herself with Oin in his room being forced to describe her recent inability to keep down food. As she'd suspected, Oin agreed with her that stress, and eating too much when she'd barely eaten the past three weeks, was most likely. As he spoke Bilba thought back to the general feeling of fatigue she'd been feeling the past several months, the number of times she'd randomly found herself out of breath, not to mention the headaches, but decided not to mention them. Look at all she'd been through, of course she was feeling tired and having headaches. No doubt it was all simply a result of the stress of the journey itself and the fact her body had been thrown so wildly out of any semblance of a routine. Oin retrieved several herbs from his packs and handed them to her to be steeped in tea when her stomach was bothering her.

"Stress makes the body weaker," he explained, pressing the herbs into her hands, "and it's not undone just because the reason for the stress is gone. Take care of yourself; we don't want you getting sick this close to the end of the journey!"

"Of course," Bilba said, dryly, "though just because one source of stress is gone doesn't mean there isn't a dragon sized one coming up."

"Eh?" Oin said with a frown, holding his trumpet up to his ear. " A flagon? Aye, a good draught of wine might help your stomach though I doubt you'll get our hosts to give any of theirs up."

Bilba didn't bother to correct him, just thanked him and headed back into the hall. The doors were all still open and her friends were roaming freely from room to room, laughing and insulting their hosts in Khuzdul.

Bilba spotted Nori lingering near the door to his brother's room. She began to head toward him when a hush suddenly fell over the end of the hall.

Thorin was striding down the hall, his body taut, hands clenched into fists at his side. The look on his face was thunderous, his eyes staring fixed, focused on something that Bilba was sure wasn't even in the hall.

He strode straight past her, into his room and shut the door behind him.

The Bilba of a few months ago would have probably taken the act as a personal slight. As it was, Bilba now felt nothing but sympathy. She doubted he'd even noticed her in the hall.

Fili strode past her suddenly, looking resolute. He opened his uncle's door without knocking and vanished inside, shutting it behind him. Kili followed a moment later. Bilba felt a surge of relief and gratitude. Thorin wouldn't be alone and Fili and Kili were more than capable of dealing with the news about their grandfather.

In the hall the talking and laughing died down and the dwarves soon vanished inside their own rooms, leaving her alone. None of them knew what was going on but having their leader in a bad mood had successfully soured their own.

Footsteps heralded the arrival of Glorfindel, who leaned on the wall next to her.

"So," Bilba said slowly. "He took it about as well as expected?"

"I think," the elf said calmly, "he may have guessed at the truth himself long before now." He looked down at her. "But suspecting the truth and hearing it confirmed are two very different things."

"True," Bilba said, "not to mention WHO he had to hear it from." She sighed. "I suppose I should be glad they didn't kill each other." She chewed on her lip and then offered him a smile. "I imagine you'll be off now? You have to get back to Rivendell you said."

He frowned. "Indeed, though I think now I shall put off my return trip, for a few days at least."

Bilba raised an eyebrow. "It really went that badly?"

He smiled. "Just because the truth has come out doesn't mean they'll suddenly be friends. I imagine they could be, one day, but that day is a long ways off."

"A VERY long ways," Bilba muttered.

Glorfindel laughed. "Indeed. Either way, Thranduil has agreed to give you safe passage through Mirkwood and has even gone so far as to offer to give you supplies to reach Lake-town. He feels it will be proper reparation for locking you up for three weeks without just cause."

Bilba studied him, wondering just how much of that had truly been Thranduil's decision and how much had been Glorfindel.

It came out to the same thing in any event, though, so she simply thanked him and left it alone.

After he left Bilba returned to her room and spent much of the rest of the day relaxing. At one point she left for the kitchens and was able to get a pot of tea brewed for her. Once she'd returned to her rooms she added the herbs Oin had given her and found that they did, indeed, settle her stomach considerably.

She was starting on her second cup, and settling in with a book she'd stolen from Ori who, Valar bless him had brought several and had somehow managed to not lose any of them, when a knock sounded on her door.

"Come in," she called out and then started with surprise as it swung open to reveal Thorin.

"Thorin," she said, getting up, "come in."

He did, closing the door behind him. Bilba raised an eyebrow at it, her face heating slightly, but he only walked over and sat on the floor, leaning back against her bed.

He looked exhausted.

Bilba started to sit next to him only to have him grab her and pull her down to sit across his lap. Bilba leaned against him, resting her head on his chest. He gave a sigh and wrapped both arms around her before dropping his head back against the bed.

They stayed like that for a very long time. Slowly the tension bled out of him and his body relaxed. Bilba found herself relaxing also, though she wasn't tired enough to go to sleep.

After a time Thorin's eyes drifted closed and his breathing evened out. Thinking him asleep Bilba shifted, planning to get her book and return, only to have his arms tighten around her and his eyes open.

"Sorry," Bilba said, apologetically. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"I wasn't asleep," he responded. "I was thinking."

Bilba hesitated. "About your grandfather?"

Thorin looked at the ceiling as though it could give him answers.

"Did you believe him then?" Bilba asked. "Thranduil I mean?"

He was silent for a moment. "I probably wouldn't have once, before Moria."

Bilba flinched, remembering Balin's story. A pyrrhic victory, one with losses so great it may as well have been a defeat. Of course, in the end, they hadn't regained Moria so perhaps it had been a defeat in truth.

"We never should have been there," Thorin said. "I knew it then and I know it now."

He took a deep, slightly shaky breath and Bilba saw he was struggling to hold himself together.

"He cared nothing for the fate of his people or kin when he threw us against the orcs," Thorin said, "only for regaining lost wealth and a throne." He shook his head. "I should have done something."

"You were a child," Bilba said, "and he was the King. What could you have done?"

She didn't mention it was his FATHER who should have done something. She was sure he was aware of it and the last thing he needed was his grandfather and father's memories impugned in the same day.

"You sound like Fili."

Bilba raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps we sound alike because we're both speaking a very obvious truth."

He didn't respond to that. For a few minutes he continued to look upward, gritting his teeth as he fought to get control of himself. Bilba kept quiet and let him have the time he needed. She knew he was remembering those days when the exiled dwarves of Erebor had wandered homeless, probably saw the faces of those left dead in their wake due to lack of food and water.

"He was a good King once," Thorin said. There was the faintest hint of a plea in his voice, as though he were desperate for someone to believe in the person his grandfather had once been and not the person he'd ended up as.

"I believe you," Bilba said, her voice firm. "I wish I could have met him, as he was."

Thorin nodded. "As do I."

He reached out suddenly and began lightly running a hand through her hair. "Your hair has grown long."

Bilba took a second to respond, trying to readjust as quickly as he was changing subjects. She didn't comment on the change though, unwilling to force him to speak beyond what he was comfortable.

"I was more concerned with finding you," Bilba said dryly.

Thorin nodded, his eyes oddly intent. "I believe it is more than long enough to braid now."

Bilba's eyes widened. "What?"

Thorin reached up and undid one of his braids.

He slid the bead off the end and grabbed her hand, settling it in her palm. Bilba looked down at it, surprised at its weight. Lifting it up she saw the bead appeared to be solid mithril and was intricately decorated.

"It bears the crest of the House of Durin," Thorin said. "Any who see it will know what it means and who it comes from."

Bilba looked at him, her heart racing. "I thought you wanted to wait."

He shrugged. "You have saved my life countless times, not to mention the lives of my kin. Now you have come through again, rescuing us from the dungeons of Mirkwood and even railing at the King in our defense."

Now Bilba did feel heat flood her face. "He told you about that then, did he?"

"He did," Thorin said a grin on his face. "And it was about then that I realized I could not imagine there ever being anyone but you." His arms tightened about her and pulled her close. He kissed her and then pulled back just a fraction to stare into her eyes. "All others pale in comparison to your beauty, your intelligence, your fire and, most of all, your loyalty, honor and courage. You give of yourself wholly and without reservation. There are only two roads before me and two is all there will ever be. I will have you at my side or I will have no one at all."

Bilba's felt a shiver run across her entire body and her eyes burned. She reached a hand up and slid it along his face, feeling the coarse hairs of his beard against the palm of her hand.

"When I first met you," she said with a slight smile, "I thought you were ridiculously beautiful and felt it a terrible shame that such beauty was so utterly ruined every time you opened your mouth."

Thorin's eyes sparked with amusement and he made to speak only to have Bilba put a finger over his lips and give him a very clear shut up message with her eyes.

"Since that point," she continued, her voice growing serious, "I have learned how utterly wrong I was on all counts." Thorin's eyes sharpened in reaction to her tone, his expression growing intense and Bilba felt a thrill run through her.

"You are intelligent and fierce and strong and brave. You inspire devotion from your nephews, loyalty from your followers and--" she hesitated and took a deep breath, "and love from me." She wrapped her arms around his neck and dropped her voice to a whisper.

"And I would be honored to wear your braid, Thorin Oakenshield."