The Art of Battle; Glory and Technique. Billa read the title of Thorin's book and sighed. He had a right to relax however he liked after a long day of kingly duties, but the little halfling didn't understand how reading about warfare would relax anyone. Still, he would do with his evening as he saw fit.

And I will do with my evening whatever I must to get his attention. Billa smiled. This was a game she played occasionally, one that she usually won and never told Thorin about. There were rules, of course. No speaking, for one. And no overtly seductive actions. That made winning too easy.

With another sigh, she dropped her shawl over the back of Thorin's armchair and settled by the fire, sitting on the floor so she was near his feet. Billa was gratified to see that he'd removed his boots already. Less rubble and dust tracked into her rugs. His stockings caught her attention, though- particularly the one on the foot closest to her, which had a hole through which one hairy toe was peeking. The hobbit started to smile. She'd intended to mend the tear in his trousers without making him take them off, but this gave her a better idea. Quick, clever fingers made short work of the lacings on his trouser-legs, and in moments, Billa was pulling his stockings off, trying not to smile too obviously.

Thorin tried to pull his foot away from her, but when that failed, he looked down at his wife with a frown. Dark eyebrows rose, then fell as he felt his stocking slide off, exposing the foot underneath. His expression clouded with confusion, and he tried to pull away again. This time she let him, and he had a moment of relief that ended as soon as she reached for his other foot.

"What are you doing?" Putting his book aside a bit more hastily than usual, the dwarf pulled his feet out of her reach. Billa spared him a glance, eyes bright with mischief. That made him wary. His frown deepened and he stood up. The halfling was grinning by then and watching his feet with a clear purpose in mind. The feeling that rose in him wasn't quite fear or panic, but there was definitely a helpless flavor to it. Whatever it was that she was going to do (and he had a sneaking suspicion that she was going to do something truly terrible, like tickling) Thorin didn't doubt that she would succeed in doing it. But just because she had her mind set on something didn't mean he wasn't going to fight it!

"Leave my feet alone," the Mountain King growled, striding toward the bed. Billa paid no heed to his words, and as she followed him, the dwarf had the fleeting impression of Kili's impish grin looking out of her face. With a scowl, he sat down and yanked off his remaining stocking. He regretted it moments later as Billa attacked his feet again. He swung them up onto the bed, and she followed, giggling.

"You're acting like a child," he pointed out, both embarrassed and annoyed. Billa ignored him, sitting on his legs. Thorin grabbed her around the waist and lifted her onto his chest. Though she squealed in protest, she didn't fight very hard, and when she'd come to rest on top of him, she turned over and kissed his nose with a grin.

"I win," she murmured, brown eyes sparkling happily.

"Win?" Thorin tried to sound grumpy, but it was hard to be anything but happy when she looked at him like that.

"I always win when you hold me." Billa pressed her nose into his beard and Thorin tightened his grip on her for a moment.

"So you're done trying to tickle my feet?" He wanted to be sure before he let her go. The look her got from her would have been comical if he hadn't been so braced against any attempt at humor.

"Tickle… your feet?" Billa looked puzzled. "Your feet are ticklish?" It sincerely looked like she'd never encountered the concept before. Thorin had a feeling he was about to learn something new about hobbits. Perhaps he would always be learning new things about his wife.

"Yes. Aren't yours?"

The female blinked and shook her head. "No." But there was a glimmer of understanding in her eyes now. "Between hobbits, it's a gesture of affection and trust to touch your partner's feet."

"Oh." Considering how proud hobbits were of their feet, that made sense. "Well… I… um…" Thorin fished for words as she watched him, smiling that infuriatingly understanding smile. "My feet… are ticklish." Could he have possibly been any less eloquent? Billa giggled.

"I see." Her smile faded slightly as she thought. "And… does that mean you won't want me touching your feet anymore?"

The words "rock" and "hard place" passed through Thorin's mind as he looked down at the halfling. He didn't like the feeling of helplessness that came with being tickled. He also disliked the feeling of helplessness that came when his wife was upset.

"Um, no, that's not… I mean… if you really wanted to," he mumbled, wishing he could be grumpy with her, because that was easier, "I guess I wouldn't mind… too much." Billa's dark eyes went all soft and the dwarf was caught only slightly off-guard when she kissed him.

It wasn't until much later that Thorin was thinking clearly enough to marvel at how well his burglar could handle feet.