An Unexpected Addition (Thilbo - Bagginshield)

Gifts

"So, when's the khalâk ceremony?"

The skin-changers were officially the strangest bunch of creatures Bilbo had ever met in his admittedly sheltered life. Well, he wasn't quite so sheltered anymore, but each of the skin-changers behaved in ways that set them apart from the other civilized folks of Middle-Earth. The badgers were the worst of them, of course, but the four wolves had an unusual demeanor about them as well. They tried to sniff and smell at everything within a twenty foot radius, something that unnerved most of the dwarves and resulted in plenty of bemused glances thrown their way. And the skin-changers seemed to enjoy the befuddled reactions of their stouter hosts.

"Pardon?"

Currin just smiled at him. "Ah, so they haven't told you yet."

"Mind your manners," warned Balin from his position on the opposite side of the map-covered table. "The King and Master Baggins have much to sort in their relationship due to different cultural norms and practices. You of all people should understand such an issue, Sister Currin."

"Ah, you know my parentage," stated the she-wolf. "Or were you just guessing like so many others have in the past?"

"One of your parents was human," replied Balin, carefully arranging stones on the map to identify the Ironfist's most likely travel routes. "Your behavior around outsiders is much calmer and more restrained than that of true-born skin-changers, like the badgers and dark wolves in your company. And your little brother is the same, it seems. Restraint of a sort like that usually only appears in skin-changers who have mixed parentage or constant interaction with outsiders. The former's much more likely than the latter, for any member of your kin."

The she-wolf snorted in return. "I like this dwarf. He's clever."

"A result of necessity, my lady."

"It's too bad that you and starfish-head don't have good noses or ears. Impossible to ambush or outsmart, both of you would be."

"I'll give Nori your compliments. He'll be flattered."

Bilbo had been surprised by the amount of leniency and freedom that the dwarves had given to the skin-changers, especially since they still wouldn't even let any men besides Bard and his citizens into the mountain yet. When he'd finally asked Balin about it, the elderly advisor explained that Mother Nymeria's pack had come to the aid of Durin's Folk after Smaug's attack on Erebor, bringing the homeless dwarves whatever food, clothes, or other supplies they could spare. It hadn't been much, but the skin-changers had done their best to assist a longtime ally and Durin's Folk hadn't forgotten it.

"Balin?"

The elderly dwarf gave them a smile and then wandered off to help his King, who had been pouring over another heap of maps, geological charts, and several tomes for the past five hours. And if Bilbo knew his intended fairly well, which he liked to think he did by this point, then the Dwarf-King would soon be throwing a growly fit of frustration and stomping off to clobber Dwalin in the training hall. Both of them seemed to enjoy beating the crap out of each other on a weekly basis, a practice that still unnerved Bilbo despite Dís' assurances to its safety and necessity. No matter how long Bilbo lived in Erebor, the more violent habits of dwarves would always confuse him.

"Hmmmm," rumbled Currin, her nose sniffing the air around them. "It seems that the King wants to mate with the hobbit. Just as I suspected."

Bilbo nearly tripped over his chair in surprise.

"You do not say things like that in polite company, Sister Currin," sighed Balin as he attempted to keep an irritable Thorin in his seat. "By Mahâl's beard, you skin-changers are just as blunt as I remember. It must be the noses."