Note: This is my first foray into fem!Bagginshield. In this story, it has been known amongst the Company from the beginning that Bilbo is a woman; but it is known to only a few that Thorin is, as well.

It was deception; pure in purpose, though far from simple in means.

Thorin hadn't questioned her father when he had suggested this course to her—when her younger brother, Frerin, had died at an early age, leaving the line of Durin without a male heir. They had never intended for the ruse to go on for as long as it had, but with the death of Thror and the disappearance of Thrain at the Battle of Azanulbizar, everything had changed. Without her father's guidance, and having no other recourse, Thorin had found herself unable to let the truth be known to any but her closest kin and her dearest friends since childhood; and though from the Wizard there was clearly no hope of hiding the facts of the matter, she had never spoken a word of her situation to either him or the rest of the Company.

Not that there was any shame in being a woman, of course. It was unusual and celebrated for even one daughter to grace a Dwarven family; and a pair sisters—let alone a pair royal sisters, such as Thorin and Dís—was a rare and wonderful thing, sure to be spoken about for generations to come. But a Dwarrowdam, even a first-born, ascending to the throne was unprecedented; a singular occurrence not only amongst Durin's folk, but in Dwarf history at large.

Nevertheless, Thorin's reticence was not due to the fear that she would be rejected as a leader once Smaug was dead and the Arkenstone was reclaimed, nor did she fear consternation amongst her people when she did at last sit upon the throne. No, the reason she had resolved to remain silent until then was the fear of being sheltered. Perhaps it was because there were so few Dwarrowdams to begin with, but there just seemed to be something in the makeup of male Dwarves' minds that made them want to throw themselves into danger when a woman was even the slightest bit threatened. The instinct to protect them was something that the men of her kind just could not resist, and so they had an innate need to regard womenfolk as precious treasures, as pieces of blown glass, as delicate threads of silk that could too easily snap.

That was certainly how most of them had treated Bilbo since she had joined the quest—shielding her, coddling her, pushing her to the center of the group whenever danger came around. Not that it was such a bad thing in her case, as the one time that Fíli and Kíli had urged her on to action, the entire Company had nearly ended up as dinner for a group of mountain trolls. But at least Thorin's nephews seemed to have confidence in the Hobbit's abilities as a burglar—a confidence that very few others amongst them seemed to share, Bilbo herself and Thorin included.

Regardless, while the Hobbit lass was quite likely used to being protected through her life in the Shire, Thorin was not prepared for that kind of treatment at all. That was not how she had been raised, that was not how she had carried herself through her years, and she now knew well why that was not what her father had wanted for her.

Still, there had been many times when she had been tempted to stand up in the midst of her companions and tell them the truth—to let them know, one and all, that they were following one who would not be a king at the end of their quest, but a queen. But she could not do that yet… she would not do that yet, no matter how much the desire gnawed at her stomach. It just did not feel like the right time for such revelations, for such confessions; and she knew that there would be no moment when she would feel safe for her companions if they were aware of who she really was, as they would then too easily lay down their lives for her own.

She could, of course, always speak to her secret-keepers about her concerns; but the words that Fíli, Kíli, Balin, and Dwalin would have to give her would be the same as they had always given—and those same words, wise and knowledgeable though they may be, were not what she needed to hear. And as for the Wizard, Thorin had no desire to open up to him about her innermost thoughts, despite how much he might already know.

If there was any other person that Thorin could speak to on this journey, she thought that it might perhaps be Bilbo; but so far she hadn't managed to bring up even simpler subjects with the Hobbit, and that restraint struck Thorin odd. Just what it was about the curly-haired lass that kept the Dwarf's mouth shut tight, yet so often drew her thoughts? Friendships were ever difficult for Thorin to enter into, and although she felt that with Bilbo the potential had long been there, she had been reluctant to open up to the idea… at least until the small and feisty Baggins had confronted Azog, until she had proven herself to be someone that could be trusted, as far too few others ever had.

But now… thought Thorin, staring down at her bowl of thick vegetable stew. Now that she has…

Thorin pulled herself out of her reverie and looked around, noticing only then that Bilbo was not sitting with the rest of the Company at Beorn's massive table. Her absence was jarring. She should have been there, enjoying a meal that was heartier than they'd had since leaving Rivendell, and so Thorin found herself worrying that the Hobbit had wandered outside, despite the stern warning Beorn had given them before he had left earlier that evening.

"Where is Bilbo?" asked Thorin quickly; then she forced a more detached tone. "Where has our burglar gotten off to?"

The others looked up from their bowls, and Dwalin pointed his spoon off to the side.

"She said she wanted to think for a while," he grumbled, returning his attention to his meal.

Turning, Thorin saw Bilbo sitting on the straw-covered dirt floor some distance across the large room. She was barely visible in the shadows, but the Dwarf could tell that her back was to the group and her face was shifted up towards a shuttered window.

"Has she eaten yet?" asked Thorin.

"I don't think so," said Bofur. "I guess she hasn't much of an appetite tonight."

Thorin narrowed her eyes. Aside from a well-filled pipe, meals were what pleased the Hobbit the most, so it was unusual and a bit worrying for Bilbo not to be eating now. Since they had escaped the goblin tunnels, though, she had been fairly silent and contemplative.

"She should know better than to skip meals," said Thorin, nodding towards the large stew-pot at the center of the table.

Fíli grunted in agreement. "She doesn't do well on an empty stomach."

"She does look a bit lonely over there, though, doesn't she?" asked Kíli.

Gandalf sat back and drew his pipe out of his satchel. "If she was lonely, then she would be here with us. It is more likely that she has thoughts that need working through, and that your Dwarvish racket was getting in the way of them."

"I could go over and speak with her," offered Ori. "Just for a bit."

Balin tapped his fingertips on his nearly-empty bowl. "She is quite fond of ye', lad," he said, "but sometimes, a lady doesn't want a man's voice buzzing in her ear." He raised an eyebrow at Thorin and grinned slightly.

Thorin's shoulders slumped, and she glanced around the table to determine whether or not anyone had picked up on his inflection. Fíli and Kíli were both looking at Balin out of the corners of their eyes, and Dwalin seemed to have suddenly developed a deeper interest in his stew. The rest of the Dwarves, save Ori and his resigned sigh, appeared to have thought nothing about the comment. The Wizard, meanwhile, had a knowing smile on his lips.

"She may be hungry, anyway," said Kíli. "Wouldn't hurt to offer her a bite."

He stood and leaned towards the stew pot, filling up one of the empty wooden bowls from the stack; but before he could move away from the table, Thorin rose to her feet and took the bowl out of his hand.

"I will bring it to her," she said. "The last time the two of you interacted over a bowl of stew, we nearly got eaten by trolls."

"That was Fíli's idea," said Kíli. His brother kicked him under the table, and he sat back down. "Well, not the getting eaten part."

Thorin frowned at him for a moment before turning on her heel and making her way to where the Hobbit sat, leaving the others behind in their low chatter. Bilbo tilted her head slightly to the side as the Dwarf came near, but she did not look over as Thorin sat down beside her and set the bowl at her feet.

"You should eat," said Thorin. "You'll need to keep your strength up, and there is no telling how long it will be before you get another decent meal."

Bilbo nodded politely. "Thank you, though I'm not really all that hungry right now."

Here in the shadowy corner of Beorn's enormous home, the Hobbit seemed smaller than ever. Her knees were shaking a bit where they were pulled up to her chin, and her unkempt hair was almost covering her eyes. She reached down and tugged at the bottom of her trouser-leg, as if trying to lengthen it, then she shifted uncomfortably where she sat. She had long ago mentioned that she was not at all accustomed to wearing trousers, and Thorin had noticed her pulling at the back of them often as the group had traveled along.

"Still, you should eat when you can, even if you don't feel like doing so," said Thorin. "I thought by now you would understand that."

"I know I should eat, but right now, I just can't. You'll please forgive me, but I've got too much on my mind. Too much to think about."

"Don't you like to eat when you're thinking? Every other time you've been in thought, you could not seem to stop yourself from doing so."

Bilbo's lips pressed into a smile. "Perhaps I should be flattered that you noticed." She glanced down at the bowl, then rested her cheek on her knee as she stared at Thorin. "But if I am to be honest, what I really need to do right now is talk. And that is a little hard with my mouth full."

Thorin cleared her throat. "Well, Ori, at least, would not mind lending an ear. He seems to be enjoy your company."

"That is only because I often tell him stories of the Shire. They may hold little excitement, but still he says that one day he will write them all down for your folk to read."

"He may, at that," said Thorin. "But how can you be certain that he is not simply using that as an excuse to spend time with you?"

"Because he knows that any affections he may have for me will not be returned," said Bilbo. "I have told him as much—that he is sweet and kind, but my heart is not his."

Thorin arched an eyebrow. "Are you taken with someone else?" she asked, glancing back at the Dwarves around the table. She looked to Bilbo again and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Is it Kíli?"

Bilbo laughed out loud. "No, no!" she said. "I am, in fact, not inclined to give my heart to any of them."

"Why not?" asked Thorin, genuinely confused. "Not that I am saying you would or must—"

"Would you give them your heart?" interrupted Bilbo.

"Honestly, no," Thorin replied with a laugh of her own. "But many of them are my kin."

"Many, though not all," said Bilbo. "But you can surely agree that just because a man is fond of you, that is no reason you should give all of your time or affection to him." She paused. "However, I am certain that most would not be inclined to reject you if you were to show any interest in them."

Thorin turned her eyes toward the ceiling. "It is strange to hear you bringing up the subject of men being with men, as if you have seen it your whole life. I would venture to guess that is not true."

"Well, I have learned much about your kind since I set out with you," said Bilbo. "And it would take a fool not to see that certain of your… of our Company have quite a bit of love for one another, beyond friendship."

"They do not tend to hide it well," said Thorin, knowing without having to ask who those couples were that the Hobbit was speaking of. "But then, why would they? There is no reason for such secrecy amongst us."

Bilbo grinned. "No reason, indeed," she said. "Your own secret excepted, I suppose, Lady Thorin?"

Thorin's eyes grew wide. "Do not say that so loud!" she ordered; then she looked over at the gathered crowd, expecting that she had been overheard. None of the Dwarves seemed to have noticed the outburst, however, and she turned back to Bilbo, glaring at her past sunken eyebrows. "How did you know?" she pressed, lowering her voice. "Did my nephews tell you?"

"Oh, don't act as if you are so good at hiding it," said Bilbo with a wave of her hand. "They told me nothing, but it is easy enough for a woman to tell when she is in the company of another woman. Whether it be when she has to scuttle off behind a boulder to relieve herself, or how she will not bathe with the others, or how she must stop so much more often every few weeks to wash away the blood."

Thorin focused on the stew bowl. "When you say it that way, it is hard to believe that it has been kept a secret from any of the Company." She swallowed hard. "Who else knows?"

"I couldn't say," returned Bilbo. "Gandalf, certainly. I mean, how could he not know, really? Then there's Balin and Dwalin, and your nephews, of course. But all of them you already know of, since you clearly set them up as your guard to keep the others away when you have to take care of… well, of feminine concerns."

"And anyone else of the Company?"

"None have said anything to me. But really, all that I have learned, I have learned on my own. You will need to ask the others, yourself, if you want to know what they know. Or rather, if they know."

Thorin grunted and stood. "I may just do that."

She shifted her feet towards the table, but still she made no move to rejoin the Company, who were all caught up in low conversation with one another. Suspicion began to grow in her mind, and she wondered now if they were whispering about her—if they were gossiping about the deception she was trying so hard to keep going.

"Thorin?" Bilbo spoke up; and when the Dwarf looked down at her she went on. "All or none of the others may suspect something, but I doubt they would say anything, even if they did."

"And why not?"

"Because it doesn't matter to them."

Thorin sat down again, glowering at her. "It would matter to them, if they knew," she said, surprising herself with her own frankness. "They would see me as someone to protect, rather than someone to fight beside. Someone who is incapable of taking care of herself. Someone like you."

She clamped her mouth shut, fearing that she had offended the Hobbit; but Bilbo did not seem to have taken her words to heart.

"If I were a man, the Company would treat me the same as they already do, I am sure," said the Hobbit. "Really, none of my people are born or raised as fighters. I may have learned to swing a sword, but I will admit that some additional protection is welcome, and even necessary. You, though… you were raised with a sword in your hand and rule in your blood. Knowing that you are a woman would not make our companions think any less of you."

"And how could you say that for certain?"

"Because I do not think less of you."

"You are not them." Thorin turned her eyes aside. "You are neither a Dwarf nor a man, and you cannot say how either would think."

Bilbo let out a long breath. "I have learned that quite well," she said. "But really, those Dwarf men in our Company that do know of your secret do not think any less of you. Still, you are probably right that it is not yet time to tell the others, if only because you would feel uncomfortable doing so. There are some things I myself would like to say, but I cannot, simply because…"

Her voice trailed off and Thorin looked over to see that the Hobbit was again hugging her knees.

"Because…?" urged Thorin.

"Because it is not my place."

Thorin's stare eased. "I do not want you to think that you cannot not speak to me if you feel the need to," she said, shaking her head. "You needn't fear that I will repeat anything you might tell me in confidence." She grinned slightly. "You are, after all, one of my own secret-keepers now."

"It is not that I fear you would tell anyone. But rather, I fear what you might think."

"And what would you fear to tell me? What great mystery could a Hobbit lass hold?"

Bilbo straightened her legs and slid her hand over her waistcoat pocket. "You would be surprised," she whispered; then she cleared her throat and dropped her hand to her leg. "But anyway, perhaps you should get back to the table. People may start to talk."

Thorin lifted her shoulder in half a shrug. "Well, if they thought that I was courting you, then perhaps my own illusion might be somewhat upheld."

"And what of those who are aware of your true nature?" asked Bilbo.

"They may well assume that it is a friendship growing between us." Thorin pursed her lips for a moment. "It is that, after all. After what… I mean, after how you—" She stopped again, searching for the right words, until at last she gave up and finished only in her mind, After how you saved me.

Bilbo started playing absently with the straw on the floor beside her. "If I may ask," she said, folding her hands at her chin. "It might be common for Dwarf men to court each other, but would a Dwarf woman ever be inclined to be with another Dwarf woman?"

"I suppose not," said Thorin, slightly bewildered by the question. "Though there would be little chance for that sort of thing. Our numbers are so few, after all."

"And if it was not a Dwarf woman?" asked Bilbo, barely aloud. "Would you yourself ever… consider being with one that was not your kind?"

Thorin's cheeks warmed, and though she was sure her embarrassment could not be seen either through the darkness or past her beard, she stood and stretched affectedly.

"I have never thought about it."

She shifted slightly towards the table, and for a moment she considered returning to the more comfortable range of conversations that must surely be going on there; but instead she wheeled about and walked to the wall at the far side of the room, there running her fingers down the knotted wood.

What Bilbo had just asked her was not really all that odd, she supposed; but there had been something in the Hobbit's inflection that had bemused Thorin, something that had made her feel the need to escape at that moment. Thorin's response had not been a lie, of course. She really had never even entertained the possibility of being with anyone—man or woman, Dwarf or… otherwise. There had always been other concerns, other things that needed tending to. There had never been time. Or, perhaps, it had never been the right time.

"Thorin?" Bilbo's voice rose up behind her.

The Dwarf squeezed her eyes shut. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

Thorin looked down at the Hobbit, who was standing with her hands clasped in front of her. The redness in her cheeks was evident, even in the near-darkness, and Thorin was glad that her own blush could not be seen underneath her whiskers.

"I am not uncomfortable," she lied.

"It was, as I said, not my place."

Thorin tightened her jaw. "It was just a question," she said dismissively. "Just a Hobbit's curiosity. And I did tell you that you could speak to me of anything."

"I could, yes. But perhaps it would have been better if I had considered whether or not I should. There is so much on your mind already, and I am only adding to your burdens."

"I am not the only one amongst us with burdens," said Thorin as she focused on the Company. "They have all left their lives behind, they have all left people behind. Every one of them is carrying the weight of this quest on their shoulders. I take as much of that weight as I can from them, but I still fear it is not enough. They are all bent so low under it."

"And every one of them would take your share of the weight, if they could," said Bilbo. She reached out and took Thorin's hand. "As would I."

"And for that, I thank you," said Thorin, surprised that she enjoyed the feel of the Hobbit's palm pressed against her own. "But I would not ask it of you, nor of any of the others. There are some burdens that I must bear alone."

"Perhaps, but not for so long that they would break you." Bilbo let go of Thorin's hand, then turned her face down. "If ever you need a rest from your weight, my shoulder is here to bear it, if only for a while."

She began to move away; but Thorin reached out and took her by the wrist.

"Bilbo, wait," she said, then she took a few deep breaths before going on. "Why would you… why did you ask me if a Dwarf woman would have an interest in… being with another?"

Bilbo shrugged. "Like you said, Hobbit curiosity," she replied unconvincingly. "It is not something my own folk do, it is not a way that… we do not tend to—" Her voice cracked. "We do not speak of women loving women or men loving men… even if there is ever any interest in such a thing."

Thorin sighed, then she slid her fingers under Bilbo's chin and lifted her face. "We are not amongst your folk," she said, staring into the Hobbit's teary eyes. "We are half a world away from the Shire, and nobody there can see across the distance or strain their ears enough so that they might judge you for what you do or say here and now."

"But still," said Bilbo, "you seemed troubled when I asked if you could ever love a woman that was not of your own kind."

"It is not a matter of…" Thorin's head began suddenly to ache, and she pressed her hand to her throbbing temple. "Do you ask me this for yourself?"

Bilbo turned away. "Perhaps I want to know if my own affections are misplaced."

"Your own…?" Thorin exhaled shakily. "You cannot—"

Bilbo moved closer to the Dwarf. "I should not," she said, speaking low, but with conviction. "Perhaps I must not… but do not tell me that I cannot do such a thing, Thorin… because that is all I have done."

The Dwarf's mouth fell open. "Beginning when?" she asked. "When you believed me to be a man, or when you knew me to be a woman?"

"Since before I ever discovered the secret you held," said Bilbo. "Before I was even aware how much of a burden you were carrying."

"And yet you said nothing then? Why now?"

Bilbo's fingers slipped inside her waistcoat pocket, and she seemed lost for a moment before speaking up. "Because everything is changing," she said at last, almost as if she were speaking to herself. "Because I did not realize just how different things would be this far along the Road. Because now I know that things are going to be even more different, even more changed by the time we reach the end. And there are some things that I do not want to leave unsaid, on the chance that our paths diverge."

"Why would they diverge?"

"Because we cannot say what each new day, or each new mile will bring. And I am done hiding. I am done… lying by saying nothing. For good or ill…" Bilbo drew her hand out of her pocket and flexed her fingers. "For good or ill, there are some things that I will not keep quiet about."

Before she could stop herself, Thorin reached out and linked her fingers with the Hobbit's own, then she looked to the table. The bowls were all empty and had been pushed back, and several of the Company had lit up their pipes and were blowing smoke-rings, great and small, towards the high ceiling. Gandalf alone seemed to sense Thorin's gaze and gave her a slight nod before blowing the largest ring of them all into the air above him.

Thorin tightened her hold on Bilbo's hand. "Do you truly believe that they will not treat me differently?" she asked. "Do you truly believe that they will not try far too hard to keep me from danger, at the risk of their own lives?"

"I believe that each and every one of them would lay down their lives for you without hesitation," said Bilbo. "But they would do thatnow, regardless. Just as they would, all of them, die for each other." She placed her free hand on Thorin's arm. "As you would die for each and every one of them."

"Just as you could have died for me when—" The words caught in Thorin's throat. "I did not think you had it in you to confront an orc, for my sake or any other's. You should not have done that, should not have risked your own life for mine. But I will not make the mistake of underestimating you again."

"And I will not say that you must tell the others what you have for so long held close in confidence," said Bilbo. "But I can tell you that they will follow you, that they will fight beside you, that they will hold you in the highest honor… whether you are their king or theirqueen."

A small smile found its way to Thorin's lips. "I am neither yet."

"But will you wait until you wear a crown before you allow that distinction to be made?"

Thorin shook her head, then let go of Bilbo's hand before brushing a curled lock of hair off of the Hobbit's brow. "Is the distinction really that important?" she asked. "If it is as you said, and letting them know who I really am will not change the way they treat me, is there really any reason for me to tell them at all?"

"Well, for one thing, you will not have to be quite so discreet when your business needs taking care of," said Bilbo, laughing softly. "The others will know not to bother you."

"True," said Thorin, beaming; then her smile fell as she again regarded the gathered Company. "But now is not the time. Soon, perhaps. But not now."

Bilbo peered over her shoulder at the murmuring group before turning once more to Thorin. "As you wish," she said with a sigh. "They will hear nothing from me, until the word is given."

She studied Thorin's face for a few seconds, seemingly in indecision, then she rose up onto her toes and placed a quick and gentle kiss on the Dwarf's whiskered cheek. Despite herself, Thorin jerked away, startled by the unexpected contact.

Shame flitted over Bilbo's features. "I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have done that."

"No… no, it's fine," said Thorin as a strange warmth filled her chest; then, at once, resolution took over. "I would ask, though, that… I mean, would you allow one more confidence between us?"

"What confidence might that be?" asked Bilbo.

"Would you…?" Thorin began. She stared down at the Hobbit for a long moment, weighing the possible repercussions of what she was considering; but before she could convince herself to do otherwise, she pulled Bilbo into the darker shadows of a nearby corner. "Would you at least allow me the honor of returning what has been given?"

A touch of what might have been delight flashed in Bilbo's eyes. "My word, you aren't very good at this, are you?"

She laughed softly, then lifted herself up onto her toes again, her soft lips pressing against Thorin's own. The Dwarf leaned in, then she pulled Bilbo closer as the Hobbit's touch worked its way through her hair. The kiss was brief and simple, but sweet—and it was the first one that Thorin had ever given or received. While it lasted, it seemed as if all the lies, all the hiding, all the deception had been for nothing; but all too soon, they broke apart.

Thorin once more turned towards her other companions, fearing that they had seen. Balin alone flitted his eyes in their direction, but if he had witnessed the kiss he gave no indication. He took a long draw off his pipe and blew out a series of tiny smoke-rings, then shifted his attention away; and Thorin let go of Bilbo and stepped back.

"We should not… perhaps we should not do that again," the Dwarf said.

The corner of Bilbo's mouth rose in half a smile. "Then I will carry it with me for the miles and days ahead," she said. "A sweet thing, tasted and held in the memory is better than one that is never tasted at all."

She placed her hand on Thorin's shoulder for a few seconds, then she spun about, returning to where she had left her stew on the straw-covered floor. Unable to look away, Thorin stared at her as she began to eat; then the Dwarf ran her fingers over her still-moist lips. It was a gentle reminder of what being true to herself could feel like, could bring about; and so she steeled her nerve and swiftly stepped over to Bilbo, kneeling beside her.

"Will you stand with me?" the Dwarf asked.

Bilbo tilted her head curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Will you stand with me?" Thorin repeated.

At once, Bilbo seemed to understand what was being asked of her. She nodded, smiling faintly, and together they rose to their feet. For nearly a minute they stared at one another, then at last they stepped to the table, side-by-side. Silence descended amongst the Company as they neared, and Thorin felt Bilbo place a reassuring palm on her back.

"Balin," said Thorin to her oldest friend. "Stand with me. And you, Dwalin." She bit down on her tongue as her face began to burn. "It is time, I think, to end the charade."

The brothers looked at each other, then wordlessly drew themselves off the large bench and moved behind Thorin and the Hobbit; and without having to be asked, both Fíli and Kíli did the same. Thorin held her breath for a moment, then she looked over at Gandalf. The wizard smiled around the bit of his pipe and gave her a small nod; and though she had never much sought his counsel, that slight trace of encouragement was much appreciated.

Thorin straightened her back and tilted her chin up; but even as she opened her mouth to speak, she saw crooked grins and small nods all around. She paused in bewilderment. Her companions' faces held not the worried apprehension that she had envisioned, but an almost eager anticipation—an awareness and expectation, bordering on impatience. Her heart began to thrum in her ears, and she grew dizzy and her knees nearly buckled, though Bilbo's surprisingly strong hand against her back kept her from falling.

"You already know?" asked Thorin breathlessly. "All of you?"

Bofur scratched the back of his neck. "Well, maybe yes, and maybe no," he said. "Maybe more yes than no."

On one side of him, Bombur nodded, while on the other Bifur tapped his fingertips against the tabletop.

"In fact," Bofur went on, "let's just say yes, we know."

"Know what?" asked Oin, holding his bent horn to his ear. "What was that?"

Gloin waved his hand absently. "You know…" he said. "Thorin's… family obligations and… well, complications."

"Ah!" Oin exclaimed. "Yes, of course!"

Thorin looked down at Bilbo, who had her palm pressed to her mouth.

"I swear to you," said the Hobbit, her voice muffled. "I have said nothing."

Thorin turned to Balin and Dwalin and her nephews, who were all apparently as surprised as she was; then she looked to Gandalf. The wizard let out a great mouthful of smoke and gave her a wink.

Ori leaned close to Dori. "Do we…" he whispered, then he looked to Thorin and began tripping over his words as he spoke to her directly. "Do we call you… I mean… still he, or… she now? Lord or… or lady?"

Dori shook his head incredulously and Nori rolled his eyes, then Ori shrunk back into his seat.

"You will call her Thorin," said Dwalin gruffly. "As always."

At once it felt to Thorin as if a long-carried weight had been lifted off of her. She stumbled to the side and sat down hard on the bench. "All this time…" she began, but she could not go on.

"Well, then," Gandalf spoke up. "Since there is nothing to be said that is not already known, let us conclude our meal and set up for bed. It is bound to be a long day tomorrow, and we will all be needing our rest."

Thorin nodded blankly in agreement, and so all the other Dwarves rose to their feet and stepped away from the table; but even as they did, Balin leaned towards Thorin.

"Perhaps not all has been said," he whispered, smiling at Bilbo.

Thorin looked at the Hobbit's blushing face; then she wrapped her arm around her waist and drew her near.

"If people feel the need to talk, then let them talk," said Thorin, "Clearly, there is no hope of secrecy amongst us."

Bilbo laughed and leaned close, and the chattering voices behind them fell quiet. But Thorin found, to her own surprise, that she did not now care if anyone saw them or spoke about them; and she slid her fingers into Bilbo's curls and pulled her closer as their lips parted and their breaths met.