"Look at this, Uncle Bilbo. It's a book on stone giants."
"Well, I do believe it is," said the older hobbit. He leaned over to look at the book his nephew was reading, eyes skimming over the faded picture drawings. "They certainly seemed quite a bit larger in person, though."
Frodo pursed his lips. "I wonder what they eat. Stone?"
"I don't know," said Bilbo. He was currently looking through a big pile of books on ancient elvish cartography, none of which Bilbo could read or decipher with a limited knowledge of archaic elven scripts. "Why don't you read some more and find out? I'd be curious to know the answer."
The two hobbits had been in the library for quite a while now, their only company three elderly dwarves at the front who were cataloguing several dozen huge piles of dusty dwarvish tomes. The lone female dwarf, Dhola she'd said her name was, had immediately recognized the pair and ushered them inside. She was a maternal great-aunt of Dori, Nori, and Ori, the last of whom had already told her about the hobbits' arrival and Bilbo's keen interest in ancient texts.
"Why am I not surprised that all of the elvish books are hidden in the back," stated Bilbo with a sardonic smile. "Thorin's head would almost certainly explode if he knew so many pieces of elvish literature were buried within his home."
"It doesn't say what they eat," pouted Frodo.
"Oh, looky here, an old journal about the first elvish kings," crowed Bilbo, fingers dusting off the ancient text. It didn't look like it'd been touched in centuries. "These were supposed to have been lost ages ago."
Frodo had a deep frown on his face. "Don't they have brains?"
"I'm sorely tempted to hoard all of these tomes for the rest of my life," said Bilbo, excitedly flipping through pages upon pages of archaic notes. "Thorin and the dwarves of Erebor can keep their gold. I want these books. Papery gold."
"How do they think?" pondered Frodo. "Stone brain..."
Bilbo was practically cackling as he sifted through the bookshelves. "Oh, what the wood elves wouldn't give for some of these texts. Thorin would probably love to dangle a tome or two in front of Thranduil's face and taunt him with it."
"Uncle Bilbo," said Frodo, "Why are these people wrestling?"
"Oh, and here's another..." Bilbo trailed off and his brow furrowed. "Wrestling? I don't think athletics are in this section."
The older hobbit leaned over to take a closer look and nearly tripped over his own feet when he realized that Frodo was looking at a text on elven sexual positions. How did the dwarves even get a hold of that?!
"Yes, yes, that's wrestling! That's what it is!" stuttered Bilbo, snatching the book out of his nephew's hands. "But this is very poorly drawn wrestling, my boy. Just terrible, terrible renditions of various...positions. I don't even know why this text was ever chosen for storage down here. Just...terrible..."
Bilbo threw the book into a far corner. His arms swung from side to side while he tried to find another, more interesting book for his nephew to read. Something that didn't depict two very flexible elves humping each other in a closet. Honestly, why the dwarves needed or wanted a text like that was beyond him.
"Umm, well, let's see...ah! Here's a nice book on ents!"
His nephew picked it up and started to flip through it. "Walking trees?"
"And talking," said Bilbo, dabbing at the sweat on his forehead. Being a parent to an eight-year-old hobbit was hard work. "And look! Here's a whole section on ents! Very safe for little hobbits and my future heart conditions."
Frodo gave him an odd look. "Grown ups are mad."
"And I completely agree with you on that, darling." Bilbo glared at the corner, disgruntled by the nerve-wracking twists and turns his day had taken so far. "The big folks and grown ups of the world are all quite mad."
"I knew it."
Bilbo went back to browsing through his pile again but kept a careful eye on what Frodo was reading this time around. He was nowhere near ready to have that talk with his little nephew yet. Another decade or so would be very much appreciated on that particular subject. Thankfully, that train of thought was soon interrupted by the sound of footsteps, a brief pause in the aisle across from theirs setting Bilbo's nerves on edge. He gave Frodo a light push behind a giant stack of books.
"Stay there, sweetheart," whispered Bilbo. His fingers ran over the hilt of Sting, a nervous knot forming in his stomach. This just wasn't his day, apparently. "I'll be back in a short moment. Can you be quiet for Uncle Bilbo?"
Frodo nodded, always the good little hobbit.
"That's my boy," murmured Bilbo.
He dropped a quick kiss onto Frodo's curly head and slowly slunk down the aisle, right hand on Sting the entire time. Pushing several books to the side and peeking out between them, Bilbo spotted the light grey tunic and dark brown hair of a dwarf. And the latter had a very peculiar shape...
"...Nori?"
"Ah ha! You caught on a good bit quicker than I'd reckoned, Bilbo," laughed the Company's trickster. Nori poked his face into the makeshift peek hole. "I assume the lil' one's over there with you."
"Of course."
"You might want to guard him more closely in the future. I suspect my Aunt Dhola is making dastardly plans to steal him from you. She's quite taken with the lil' one's curls and big blue eyes. And the chubby cheeks. There was a good bit of emphasis placed on those chubby cheeks in particular."
"I'll add it to my List of Eccentric Dwarven Habits to Worry About, then."
Nori sauntered around to their aisle, a smile appearing on his face when he caught sight of the piles upon piles of old books. A tiny head peeked out from behind the largest of them, straightening up immediately when he saw the familiar face. Despite his blowup with Thorin, Bilbo had made it very clear to Frodo that every dwarf in the Company was fully trustworthy and would never hurt him.
"Looks like someone's been mighty busy," said Nori, picking up one of the books on Frodo's lap. "Ents...hmm, aren't those talking trees?"
"How did you find me, Nori?"
The tri-haired dwarf gave him a mysterious smirk. "I have my ways."
"Oh, I've heard plenty about your ways, Nori," chuckled Bilbo. "And according to your brothers, a lot of those ways are quite dodgy and illegal."
Nori shrugged. "Yet my information is sound. Useful, too."
"I don't doubt that," Bilbo conceded, picking up an elvish tome and fingering the waxy binding. "I assume Thorin sent you?"
"Not this time," assured Nori. "I came of my own accord."
The spymaster was now sitting on the floor, looking at the various pictures of ents and chipmunks that Frodo was showing him. Bilbo gave a huff and sat down, too. He really wished his life wasn't so complicated.
"How angry is he?"
Nori shrugged again. "As much as can be expected. Our dearest King isn't used to having his orders questioned or disregarded. I dare say that it was a rather rude awakening for him."
"He's become even more pigheaded," sighed Bilbo. "I didn't think that was even possible."
"Oh, it's possible," said Nori with a smirk. "You should've witnessed our annual conference with the wood elves. I'm certain that our grand King would've mooned Thranduil if he'd been able to avoid becoming a dwarven pin-cushion. An impressive number of impolite hand gestures were implemented, though."
Bilbo just squinted at the ones that Nori was kind enough to demonstrate, his face flushing bright red when he realized what some of those gestures meant. They were quite scandalous, even by dwarven standards.
"He did not use that last one," argued Bilbo. "He couldn't have! Thranduil would've had him shot full of arrows on the spot."
"But he did," assured the dwarf. He made another gesture overtop of Frodo's head and finished it off with an inward poke. "And that was the hand that ended the conference in a spray of multilingual curses."
"You would find that amusing."
Nori didn't even bother to deny it. "What can I say, it's quite nice to finally see an emotional reaction out of the tree-shaggers."
"Must you call them that in front of Frodo?"
"He'll be hearing far worse in the corridors and Thorin's throne room," said Nori. "Not much has changed since you departed in that respect. True, all of us are thankful for the aid they provided to our injured after the battle, but that came at your begging and all-around behest. And Thorin wasn't exactly pleased with their treatment of you during that course, either."
"Someone had to retrieve supplies from the other camps, and it certainly wasn't a job any dwarf was lining up for at the time," Bilbo reasoned. "But Erebor's King and his heirs are alive, aren't they?"
Nori nodded.
"And that's all that matters," said Bilbo with finality. "Umm, you don't think that our...confrontation will affect our welcome, will it?"
"Never," replied Nori without a second thought. "Thorin would sooner destroy the Arkenstone with his bare hands than exile you from Erebor. I'd like to say that I know my King quite well after so many years at his side, and that I have witnessed many aspects of his personality throughout our quest. However, the genuinely upset, perhaps even fearful, Thorin that I witnessed after your...sudden departure was one that I have neither seen nor served before."
"I never intended to leave Erebor," argued Bilbo.
"But our King doesn't know that," said Nori. He calmly removed Frodo's curious fingers from his intricately braided beard. "The habits of a hobbit are still quite odd to all of us, but especially Thorin. He's accustomed to being obeyed without question, even by dwarves outside of our community and Durin's line. And I believe that due to the cultural differences between our peoples, Thorin may have also believed that you would make good on your threat to permanently depart from Erebor."
"None of this would have happened if Thorin had just spoken with me first about needing a bodyguard," Bilbo sighed. "I refuse to let him make decisions about Frodo's or my own life without at least respecting our wishes and right to privacy."
Nori gave a sympathetic nod. "I understand your grievances, Bilbo, I truly do. I'll be the first dwarf to admit that this whole traveling in pairs arrangement is quite...stifling and downright annoying. It just plain doesn't suit my lifestyle. However, Thorin has very good reasons for it. There is a rather significant minority residing in Erebor at the moment who would love nothing more than to see Thorin's line destroyed."
"I thought the last caravan was from the Blue Mountains. Haven't they been living under Thorin's rule for six decades now?"
"Most, but not all," explained Nori. "A small number have arrived from numerous other regions, none of them proven loyal yet to Thorin. They did not fight for him like our kinsmen from the Iron Hills. At the moment, we can only assume that they arrived here to either create a better life for themselves, or they are here to spy on Thorin's performance for their own leaders back home."
"I knew there was a reason why I didn't like politics. Everyone's always trying to kill one another. It's depressing."
"My network sees all and hears all," said Nori with an enigmatic grin. "If there's a plot to assassinate our Royal Gruffness or his charming heirs, then I'll know about it. And the same applies to you and Frodo as well."
"You're a very sneaky dwarf, Nori."
"I know."
Frodo was leaning back in Nori's lap now, a large picture book about ents spread across his tummy for easy reading. The dwarf was absently braiding his nephew's curls, a pensive expression on his bearded face. Bilbo preferred not to think about all the manner of illegal things that regularly went through Nori's mind. If there was an award for being elusive, then Nori would be the member of the Company to win it.
"You're going to have to speak with him, master hobbit."
Bilbo played with Frodo's wriggling toes, an ancient tome about rings and charms laying forgotten in his lap. "I know."
"Preferably today."
"I will."