Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Primula wasn't exactly sure why she'd agreed to do this. She was surrounded by dried flowers, live flowers, and pictures of flowers. She could feel her hair coming out of its bun, and could see curly red strands of it hanging down in front of her eyes because she'd ran her hands along it and through it so many times. Planning your own wedding nearly drove you mad, Prim, she thought. Why would you volunteer to help with Bilba's? She gave a sigh and peered in the kitchen after her cousin, who was preparing tea, before her gaze flicked to Thorin, who was stroking his beard and thoughtfully flipping through the pages of one of the flower books.
"I'm afraid I can't figure out how to arrange your flowers, Bilba," Prim sighed, closing one of the books. "Do you even know what flowers you want?" Thorin had switched to twiddling with his courting braid while reading one of the flower descriptions. Bilba reappeared from the kitchen with a tray of tea and biscuits.
"Clear a space, if you would." Primula pushed a few of the books and vases to the side as Bilba set the tray down. "Mm. I was thinking about daisies, or gerberas? For loyal love and cheerfulness, of course." She poured a cup of tea and handed it to Prim, then another to Thorin. "Hydrangeas for feelings from the heart, purple lilacs for first love. Perhaps sunflowers? I'm not sure about the sunflowers, though."
"You can't have a wedding without peonies, Bil," added Primula in a slightly frazzled voice. Bilba snapped her fingers and smiled.
"Knew I'd forgotten one."
"What do peonies stand for?" asked Thorin, staring at them both quizzically and taking a sip of his tea.
"Oh, bashfulness, compassion. It symbolizes a happy life and a happy marriage, good health, and prosperity." She sat besides Primula and flicked open one of the books, before glancing up at Thorin. "Have you got any suggestions?" It didn't seem that he was going to say anything, until he furrowed his brow, trying to remember.
"Al.. hmm. Alstroemeria?"
"Mm. Wealth, prosperity, and fortune," quipped Primula, yawning slightly. Bilba scribbled it down in a little book next to a few other flower names. Primula sipped her tea again, before humming and lowering the teacup. "Have you two even decided on when the wedding’s going to be?"
"October," said the two of them simultaneously. Primula raised her eyebrows.
"Really? Decided that already? It took Drogo and I nearly a month to set the date."
"It was such a lovely spring wedding, though," responded Bilba with a small smile. The three settled into a comfortable silence as they continued with their tea and biscuits, and were promptly interrupted by a knock on the door. Thorin and Primula both moved to stand, but Bilba was up before either of them. "I'm getting it, sit down," she commanded, before bustling off down the hall. They both settled back into their seats, Thorin still twiddling with his braid and bead, and listen to a familiar babble of voices.
Only about a minute had passed before the sound of the front door closing again resounding through the smial. "Hello, all!" came the easily recognizable shout of Drogo. Primula sat up and dusted her skirt off before standing. Bilba led Drogo into the sitting room.
"Hello, Love," said Prim, walking over to her husband. "Suppose I'll be on my way now, Bilba."
"Thank you for helping us, Primula," Thorin responded.
"Yes, we'd probably still be arguing about colors if you hadn't stopped by." Primula smiled at them both.
"It was no problem. I'll be back round in a few days to help again, if you need it." Bilba nodded, smiled, and waved at her cousins as they departed.

Bilba returned from seeing her cousins out to Thorin, who was quietly piling the plates and empty teacups back onto the tray to carry into the kitchen. There was a stoic look on his face, and his lips were set into a hard line. His expression was one she recognized, one most commonly found in the line of Durin, one that usually had something to do with wounded pride, and it was what made her follow him into the kitchen. "Everything alright, Thorin?" The dishes clinked together as he set the tray on the countertop and turned towards her.
"Are you going to go to Primula about our wedding the whole time?" Bilba nearly rolled her eyes; this was something they'd talked about, briefly, the week before.
"I won't go to her, but if she offers help, I'm not going to turn her down."
"Bilba-"
"I'm not going to turn down her offers to help us out of stubborn pride, Thorin," she said forcefully, crossing her arms. She could see him clench his jaw.
"It's not a matter of pride," he muttered, before strengthening his voice. "We talked about this. It's tradition for the planning to be taken over by the couple two weeks after the initial engagement, and now it's been four, and you continue to accept help we shouldn't need. This period of time is supposed to be a trial to see how we work together!"
"We shouldn't need this time to see how we work together, we had to work together for two and a half years before this," she scoffed, glaring up at him. "Besides, hobbits don't do trials! We plan our weddings with our families, and usually have a good time doing it; we don't throw away the enjoyment and bonding time to prove to others that we work well together. We aren't so proud that-" She was interrupted by his humorless laugh.
"Proud? You once told me that you were not respectable, that you were the worst type of hobbit. If being kind, honorable, adventurous, intelligent, and loyal to a fault are not traits that hobbits find pride in, then I most certainly will say that your people are not a proud people." Bilba's face reddened and her eyes turned thunderous.
"Really! And like dwarves are any better! What, with your pointless wars, your sulking, your distrust, and your overabundance of pride! You've got nothing to be proud of, either, Thorin Oakenshield! You're arrogant and brutish, so stubborn that it's hard to believe! All dwarves care for is the crown on their brows and the gold in their purses! At least hobbits care for more than beads and braids!" Thorin sucked in a breath through his nose and glared down at her, balling his hands into fists at his sides.
"If that's how you feel, why am I here?! Why am I in this smial, hundreds of miles from my kin when I could be ruling besides them in Erebor?!" He barely glanced at her face before he stormed past, thundering through the smial and into the breezy afternoon air. He let out a large breath, dropping his head and rubbing at his eyes with his right hand. Mahal, I need a drink.
Inside, Bilba sat on the floor and let her head fall into her hands, trying to keep the sound of her tears quiet.

It’d been two hours. Bilba knocked on the door of the smial next door, and it was Lenora who answered. “Oh, hello, Bilba. Everything alright?” She looked worried, but didn’t press. Bilba gave her a weak smile.
“Do you think I could borrow Holman for a bit?”
"Of course I don't mind. I'll just-" she turned briefly into the smial and yelled, "Holman! Bilba for you!" before turning back around with a smile. Bilba waved when he appeared at the door.
"Would you like to take a walk?"

"I feel like I've just ruined my relationship. I don't even know where he stormed off to, I just know that it was a very angry conversation and now I'm hoping he's not so cross when he comes home." He looked at her thoughtfully. "If he comes home," she added. Holman hmed.
“Every couple has arguments, Bilba. It’s perfectly normal.”
“You didn’t see this one, Holman. It was awful.” She rubbed at her eyes. “I didn’t mean anything that I said. And it was all about traditions and the wedding… I think he’s a little overwhelmed with it.”
“It’s a lot to handle, so I can see how he would be. Doesn’t excuse his actions, though,” he grumbled.
“No, it doesn’t, but mine aren’t justified, either.” They were silent for a few more moments. “I need to find him so we can fix this.”
“He loves you Bilba, I truly think he does.” Bilba looked over at him, surprised. “Everyone can see that you two are over the moon for each other. And if he’s too stubborn and thick to not make amends, then honestly, he doesn’t deserve you. But if you both care for each other as much as it looks like you do, this’ll be just a bump in the road. It’s going to be fine for you, I truly believe so.”

He left her on the steps of Bag-End at sundown, and she sat in front of the fireplace, waiting for her stubborn dwarf to return.