Disclaimer: The Hobbit, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J. R. R. Tolkien's estate, and Warner Brothers, New Line Cinema, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and WingNut Films.

Getting Sorted

Bombur was surprised when he suddenly realized how much he had grown familiar with Bilbo Baggins' habits and quirks. How he was often able to tell the small creature's feelings and moods by the variety of expressions that crossed his beardless face. Of his ability to sense that something was off with their burglar.

The little fellow had been overwhelmed with relief at surviving Azog and his pack, as well as happiness at being welcomed by the group into their fold finally. He had taken part in the celebration at the inn, enjoying his drink, listening to the dwarves' singing, watching Balin's performance. To all appearances (other than that incident with the Ri brothers) the hobbit had passed a pleasant evening with his companions.

So Bombur was not sure what caused the change in the Halfling when they had set out on the trail again three days ago. Only that now it was there, and he could not claim to like it. (It certainly had not escaped his brother's notice, seemingly possessing a seventh sense when it came to their hobbit. Frequently now Bofur's eyes tracked Bilbo, the merriness in them dampened by concern and puzzlement.)

There was a new, strange distance between the hobbit and the young princes. In the beginning of their journey the lads had teased Bilbo a lot, played pranks on him. After the trolls, instead of being on the receiving end of their pranks, he was included in their schemes. It became common to see the three of them walking together, deep in conversation. Whenever the Halfling acted like a mother hen over them, to the whole company's surprise the lads seemed to bask in it, smiling at Bilbo's tut-tutting, fussing, and scolding all delivered with a gentleness that was foreign to dwarves. Wide grins would split their faces when Bilbo approached them with a funny story or, even better, a riddle or little jest.

Thus it was odd in Bombur's opinion how now Bilbo never approached the lads and always took care not to be walking alone with them. How when Fili and Kili approached him he somehow cut the conversation short and hurried off. How he managed to politely bow out whenever invited to occupy the saved seat between them by the campfire, to take part in their latest plan, or was requested to tell a story. How each time the princes materialized on either side of him, the hobbit's eyes widened with an extreme bout of nervousness that he had never shown in front of them before. The cook was positive Bilbo was not aware of the confused hurt looks the lads always directed to his retreating back.

When Thorin called a halt for the day and the group set about making camp, Bombur saw Kili step up to Bilbo and swing an arm around his shoulders, bending down to say something in the creature's pointed ear. The smile the hobbit attempted to give was pathetic. Half-heartedly he shrugged off the dwarf's arm. Fili, standing behind his brother, bit his lip, frowning. While Kili looked like someone had just taken away his puppy.

Beside him, Bombur sensed Bofur stiffen. Swiftly he clasped his shoulder. His brother meant well, but sometimes his words could make a mess even more of a muddle. Perhaps just this once the cook would stick his nose in. He shared a glance with Bofur.

"Bilbo," he called in a clear voice, "would ye help me gather wood for the fire, and perhaps with the cooking as well?"

The hobbit came over to him quickly, vastly relieved. Sneaking a look over Bilbo's head, Bombur couldn't help feeling a little sorry at Fili's and Kili's downcast faces. Pressing his brother's shoulder again in reassurance, he turned and led Bilbo into the trees.

After collecting wood silently for a few minutes Bombar, gathering his nerve, asked, "Are ye well, Bilbo?"

The smaller creature looked over at him with a smile and nod. "Aye. I do not think I've been so well in a long time."

"That is a relief to hear! Bofur and I were worried about ye."

"Oh?" Bilbo's smile seemed to grow a bit strained.

"Yer behavior around Kili and Fili," the cook elaborated. At his friend's silence he frowned. "Have they offended ye? Hurt ye? Should Bifur set on them—"

"Oh, dear! No, no!" Wide-eyed, the hobbit shook his head vigorously, his braid bouncing with the movement. "No, there is no need for that. They have not caused offense," he hastened to assure the fat dwarf. He had witnessed first-hand the Urs' overprotective nature and could just imagine what they would do to the lads, believing they'd upset Bilbo. A sigh of relief escaped him when Bombur's expression lightened.

"Well, then…," the red-haired dwarf trailed off, tilting his head, waiting.

The fellow ducked his head, flushing. He coughed. "It is not them, truly. I'm just not the most proper company for Fili and Kili to be keeping, you see, being a burglar and a simple hobbit. I'm respectable, but nothing close to nobility. Thorin certainly thought so. So it is for the best this way…isn't it?" Biting his lip, he peeked uncertainly at Bombur.

The cook stared, opening and shutting his mouth. "Pardon—I'm not sure I follow ye, laddie."

Bilbo took a deep breath through his nose. "I do not make an acceptable friend for them. They are princes!"

"Before—"

"Before I did not know!" the hobbit exclaimed. "Clearly Thorin disapproved of my keeping company with them, and I suspect he is not too keen about it still. I've never befriended royalty before. And—and in the Shire we set great importance on our social hierarchy. There are many rules and traditions concerning with whom a hobbit socializes, particularly in regards to courtship and marriage. So, while before I spent time with Fili and Kili, I was not aware of our differences. But now, it would be the proper thing to do— My being so unlike them, the lads won't really miss me that much, would they?"

Bombur, who for the most part was able to follow this long-winded explanation, had no opportunity to form an answer. For from the large bush behind the Halfling, which had rustled with increasing frequency as the conversation progressed, out bounded the two princes in question. Scared to death by this unexpected interruption, Bilbo yelped loudly and dropped the wood he'd collected.

"Bilbo, of course we would, do miss you!" Fili claimed, reaching his side in one strode.

Crowding his other side, Kili nodded. "We like you! So small and cuddly…" He laughed when the hobbit huffed. "Besides, you liked us for, well, us! Not because we were royalty."

Fili nodded in agreement, his expression serious. "Anyway, we don't care about all that social class rubbish. Please, do let us be friends, Master Baggins. Uncle won't really mind, since you saved his life. And he said you even help keep us out of trouble, though we can manage that fine on our own!"

"Oh?" Bilbo glanced between the brothers, looking both bewildered and ashamed.

"Do say you'll be our hob—" For once Kili caught on quickly at Bombur's warning growl, "—I mean our friend again! Please, say yes!"

Fili scooted closer, patting the hobbit's curls while careful not to disturb his small braid. "Yes, Bilbo, please!"

"Bilbo!"

The hobbit was confronted with two pairs of big wide eyes, mouths pouting, hands clasped together, pleading. It was in moments like this that he nearly forgot the two were fierce warriors instead of young dwarflings. He closed his eyes. He was doomed.

"I suppose— Oof!" he gasped, squeezed in a tight hug, wrapped up in two pairs of strong arms.

"Our Bilbo!"

"Thank you, Bilbo!"

Bombur chuckled as Fili dragged Bilbo by the arm excitedly back towards the campsite, chattering with an enormous grin on his face. Following closely at their heels, Kili paused next to the cook to ask hopefully, "Can we at least call him cousin?" He bounced on the balls of his feet.

Caught off guard, the dwarf stammered, "I-I suppose—" Stunned, he stared as the lad wrapped himself around Bombur as best he could in a quick hug. Giving him a brilliant smile, Kili then took off.

"Cousin Bilbo!"

Shaking his head, Bombur followed after the three. Tonight he'd have to do a great deal of placating. He was not sure which would upset his family more: Fili and Kili undoubtedly being connected to Bilbo's hips for at least the rest of the evening, or their hobbit being called cousin. In any event, he would have to deal with Bifur and Bofur turning all protective and possessive again.

"Last time I stick my nose in," Bombur firmly promised the trees around him.

THE END