Chapter Text
Bilba could feel the morning sun on her legs as it filtered in through the window. As it worked its magic in waking her, she was faintly aware of an arm draped across her middle and a faintly snoring dwarf at her back. So much for dwarven tradition, hm? Thorin's nose pressed against the back of her neck as the snoring slowly settled into quiet breaths. And then he yawned and hmed and tightened his arm. "Good morning, Amrâlimê," he murmured against her skin.
"Morning, love," she said with a yawn. She loosened his grip and turned over to face him. "Threw out those old traditions, did you?" she asked with a small smile. He looked at her sheepishly, eyelids still heavy with remnants of sleep.
"On the way home, I grew very accustomed to sleeping next to you. And I tried to fall asleep last night alone, truly, but I couldn't. So here I am. Besides, no one is here to see." She cupped his cheek and kissed him softly for a few moments, pulling away briefly before giving him a few extra.
"I don't mind," she hummed. He chuckled and yawned once more. “How’d you sleep, then?” Bilba asked.
“Better than I have since we left Erebor.”
“Mm. Me too.” She rolled onto her back and sat up, leaning back onto her hands before stretching. “It’s time to get up then!” Thorin looked up at her, surprised, and sat up enough to support himself on his arm.
“Hobbits don’t sleep in?” he asked, incredulous.
“Not on a perfectly sunny day in the middle of June when there’s a breakfast to be made,” she responded with a smile, swung her legs over the side of the bed, and threw her covers off. Thorin grumbled and slumped back down into the bed. “Stay then, love. I’ll bring you something to eat.” She gazed back on the dwarf with a look of fondness before making her way through the empty smial.
Luckily, the Tooks and Brandybucks had brought her enough food to last through elevenses last night as a homecoming gift, which spared her from having to go to the market this early. No doubt she’d have to later, as her pantry was near empty, but breakfast should always come first. As she was gathering the things she would need for breakfast, she heard the faint steps of her dwarf coming down the hall and through the pantry. She had barely begun to fry the first egg before she felt a chin on her shoulder and strong arms wrapped around her abdomen. “What are you making?”
“Eggs, toast and jam, sausages, hash-I’m making anything my heart desires, presently,” she replied smoothly, cracking another egg into the pan.
“That’s quite a lot of food.” Bilba laughed at his statement.
“You know nothing, Thorin Oakenshield. I know I’ve told you about our food, but have I told you about how often hobbits eat?” She felt the miniscule shake of his head on her shoulder and flipped the eggs over. “Alright. Hobbit meals start with breakfast, then move to second breakfast, elevenses, and luncheon.” She took a small pause to pinch some salt and pepper onto the eggs. “There’s only three more after that; afternoon tea, dinner, and supper.” Thorin was quiet for a few moments.
“Seven meals?”
“Mhm!” Bilba hummed, nodding slightly and making room for another egg on the pan.
“I doubt Bombur could even eat that much a day.” Bilba gave a snort and cracked her egg. Thorin chuckled and jostled his arms slightly, bumping into her elbow, which sent an egg tumbling out of the frying pan and into the fire. Bilba frowned slightly and Thorin withdrew from his former wrapped-around-his-love position. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s alright,” she said, with a little shrug. The eggs were quickly replaced.
“Should I go find something else to do?” She smiled and rolled her eyes at him.
“I don’t mind that you’re here, honestly. Though, if you want to leave me to cook in peace, you could go pick out what you want for lunch? We’re going to need to go shopping soon anyway to refill the pantry, but nothing before one, I think.” Thorin gave a nod that he knew she couldn’t see.
“Alright.”
“Don’t be gone too long, I don’t want your breakfast to get cold.”
The day was bright and warm, and Thorin couldn’t help humming on his way down to the marketplace. Much to his delight, Bilba had graciously volunteered to braid his hair back before he’d left, and it was now held back against the breeze (the braid was a relief, actually; he often forgot how heavy his hair actually was). Not a great deal of people were down at market currently, though he could see that most of the townsfolk had already started their day. The walk down to the center of Hobbiton was a pleasant one.
Among the hobbits milling around the stalls were a few Thorin recognised from the night before, though none of them were looking at food. Quite a few were talking about it, and he caught snippets of conversation while he looked over some apples in front of him.
“Yes, the Bagginses were in charge of this year’s festival feast,” said Primula. “I think Drogo’s still working on it, actually, with his mother.” Thorin raised his eyebrows and placed a few of the apples in his basket.
“Does this mean Laura’s made her raspberry tarts?” Lily inquired. Primula nodded, and then spotted Thorin looking at them.
“Good morning, Thorin!” she exclaimed, waving.
“Good morning, Primula,” Thorin responded.
“Are you and Bilba coming to the Festival?” asked Lily, dusting her dress off as she and Primula came over.
“Festival?”
“Yes, of course, you wouldn’t know about it,” started Primula. “Well, it’s June twenty-fourth, meaning today is the Midsummer Festival. Happens every year.”
“I bet Bilba’s forgotten all about it! Go back up the hill and tell her to come over, we’ve got a few dresses ready. And you should probably change, too,” said Lily with a nudge to his ribs and a cheeky smile.
“Thank you for telling me. I should go, then.”
“Get on now, then! The food starts at two!” stated Primula, waving him off.
Bilba had not let him speak much when he got back; instead, he ate breakfast. Dishes were now being washed, and Thorin cleared his throat. “So…” Bilba looked up at him.
“Hm?”
“The Midsummer Festival.” She furrowed her brow for a moment before she smiled and her face lit up like the sun.
“I can’t believe I forgot about it!” Thorin smiled at her excitement as she handed him the last dish to dry. “We’re going to need to get ready!” She wiped the water from her hands and turned to walk out of the kitchen. She stopped halfway to the door and her expression fell as she turned towards him. “I haven’t a dress. I mean, not a festival dress. What will I do about that?” She crossed her arms with a huff, brow furrowed in frustration and thought.
“Bilba,” he paused to pat her shoulder, and she looked at him quizzically, “Primula and Lily asked me to send you over to them, because they’ve got a few dresses ready.” And the smile was back, easy as that.
“I should-I should go, then, shouldn’t I?” Thorin smiled at her and gave a small nod. She perched herself up on her tip-toes and gave him a kiss before whisking through the door. “We’ll get your outfit situated when I get back, okay?”
Primula was holding up two dresses. Lily was brushing off the other two, ones that Bilba had already discarded. "Alright, c'mon, Bilba. Blue or yellow?" she asked, turning round.
"You've always looked nice in yellow," piped in Primula, her voice muffled behind the fabric. It was true, of course. Bilba tapped her chin, before nodding.
"Yes, all right. Yellow it is, then." Primula smirked triumphantly as she handed Lily the discarded dress.
"I want to see you in it, come one Bilba." The girls were already in their dresses, Lily in a deep purple and Primula in pale green, and waited patiently as Bilba switched into the new dress. "Oh, it's perfect on you!" gushed Primula, tugging the hem into place and tying the front.
"Your dwarf is going to swoon when he sees you," remarked Lily with a laugh, as there was a knock at the door. She answered. "I'll be back, apparently Posco and Peony need my assistance." The door clicked shut behind her, and Bilba turned towards Primula.
"Shall I bring the dress back to you after the festival, then?" she asked. Primula laughed and shook her head.
"Please now, Bilba. Honestly, it looks better on you than me. It's a present."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure, you nut," said Primula with a smile and a wave of her hand. "Now, onto bigger and better things… that dwarf of yours…"
"Thorin? What about him."
"You did good with that one, Bilba. He's a looker." Bilba could feel her cheeks heating up as she attempted to come of with an answer. She ended up just sitting down in a chair against the wall with red cheeks, hiding behind her hands. Primula laughed. “You can’t say it’s not true, though,” she said matter-of-factly. Her expression turned semi-serious. “Are you going to marry him?” Bilba lifted her head.
“I certainly plan to.” Primula gave her a grin, and then jumped at the squeak of the door opening.
“Come on girls, it’s time to go.”