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“All she could see was that she'd already had her first failure.
A second chance, according to her aunt.
She was wrong.
There were no second chances, not for her. Not after the reason it had all gone wrong the first time was because of her. Because she was too much of a coward to act.
She was here because of the cursed ring. Her curse.
This was no second chance.
It was a punishment.”
―
A second chance, according to her aunt.
She was wrong.
There were no second chances, not for her. Not after the reason it had all gone wrong the first time was because of her. Because she was too much of a coward to act.
She was here because of the cursed ring. Her curse.
This was no second chance.
It was a punishment.”
―
“She hadn't been the only one given a title. She had been Akul Kurf, the Ice Bitch.
Dwalin had been Vadok.
Death.
Bilba had always been mildly insulted by that. He got to be Death, and she got to be the hobbit with the bad attitude.”
―
Dwalin had been Vadok.
Death.
Bilba had always been mildly insulted by that. He got to be Death, and she got to be the hobbit with the bad attitude.”
―
“She turned her gaze on him, eyes the color of amber, and Fili felt the breath leave him as though he'd been physically kicked.
Her eyes were completely empty, blank. The look she leveled on him might be the same she leveled on an insect.
She hates me, he thought dumbly, forgetting he still had his shields wide open from his attempts to contact Glamdring.
It's not personal. A voice suddenly spoke in his head and Fili jerked, his eyes snapping to Glamdring. She hates everyone.
Fili looked at Orcrist again, almost convinced the ice in her eyes might be capable of actually opening lacerations.
On the one hand his dragon had finally spoken to him.
On the other his dragon partner, who might possibly be the most beautiful and amazing woman he'd ever seen, hated him…and everyone else.
Well, Kili's voice spoke in his mind, where he'd apparently been eavesdropping. You did say once you hoped your dragon partner and dragon would be interesting.
Interesting, Fili clarified. I said interesting, not insane.”
― Of Dwobbits, Dragons and Dwarves
Her eyes were completely empty, blank. The look she leveled on him might be the same she leveled on an insect.
She hates me, he thought dumbly, forgetting he still had his shields wide open from his attempts to contact Glamdring.
It's not personal. A voice suddenly spoke in his head and Fili jerked, his eyes snapping to Glamdring. She hates everyone.
Fili looked at Orcrist again, almost convinced the ice in her eyes might be capable of actually opening lacerations.
On the one hand his dragon had finally spoken to him.
On the other his dragon partner, who might possibly be the most beautiful and amazing woman he'd ever seen, hated him…and everyone else.
Well, Kili's voice spoke in his mind, where he'd apparently been eavesdropping. You did say once you hoped your dragon partner and dragon would be interesting.
Interesting, Fili clarified. I said interesting, not insane.”
― Of Dwobbits, Dragons and Dwarves
“Bilba nodded and headed to Syrath, climbing onto his back with Fili behind her.
They lifted off, the ground falling away behind them and she leaned against Fili, mentally picturing the final shards of the shell she'd built around herself falling away below her.
She was neither the naïve girl she'd been before her mother's death or the well of never-ending hate she'd been after.
She was Bilba, the daughter of Belladonna Took and Dwalin, son of Fundin.
She was Orcrist, Orc Cleaver, protector of the weak and defenseless.
She was the rider of Syrath, the partner and One of Fili, son of Vili, Crown Prince of Erebor.
She was her father's daughter and her mother's light.
She was more than what the orcs had tried to make her, more than what she'd made herself and more than the false foundations upon which she'd built her life.
She would rebuild again and, this time, it wouldn't be on the false hope of a fictional father she'd created in her mind and it wouldn't be on the twisted lie given to her by hate.
It would be based on truth, on what Fili and Syrath saw in her, what she was just starting to see in herself and what she saw when she looked at her father.
It would be based on allowing people in, not shutting them out.
And, this time, her foundation would be unshakable.”
― Of Dwobbits, Dragons and Dwarves
They lifted off, the ground falling away behind them and she leaned against Fili, mentally picturing the final shards of the shell she'd built around herself falling away below her.
She was neither the naïve girl she'd been before her mother's death or the well of never-ending hate she'd been after.
She was Bilba, the daughter of Belladonna Took and Dwalin, son of Fundin.
She was Orcrist, Orc Cleaver, protector of the weak and defenseless.
She was the rider of Syrath, the partner and One of Fili, son of Vili, Crown Prince of Erebor.
She was her father's daughter and her mother's light.
She was more than what the orcs had tried to make her, more than what she'd made herself and more than the false foundations upon which she'd built her life.
She would rebuild again and, this time, it wouldn't be on the false hope of a fictional father she'd created in her mind and it wouldn't be on the twisted lie given to her by hate.
It would be based on truth, on what Fili and Syrath saw in her, what she was just starting to see in herself and what she saw when she looked at her father.
It would be based on allowing people in, not shutting them out.
And, this time, her foundation would be unshakable.”
― Of Dwobbits, Dragons and Dwarves
“That was it. Just…fate. No grand scheme, no conscious decision one way or the other, her father wasn't a coward or apathetic, he hadn't chosen to leave them to die in Moria…nothing.
It simply was.
Her father should have come.
Her father would have come.
Her father could have come.
Would have, should have, could have…..
Didn't.
The end.
Done.”
― Of Dwobbits, Dragons and Dwarves
It simply was.
Her father should have come.
Her father would have come.
Her father could have come.
Would have, should have, could have…..
Didn't.
The end.
Done.”
― Of Dwobbits, Dragons and Dwarves
“It was like he was a broken mirror, and everything about him was a shard. His voice, his laughter, the barest glimpse of him when she failed to look away fast enough, all of it razor sharp. All of it slicing easily through barriers she'd spent most of a lifetime building.”
―
―
“Bilba opened her eyes, and Fili was standing directly in front of her.
The last thread broke.
She'd spent years building walls around the hollow left by Ravenhill. There had always been cracks, even breaches over the years, but she'd endured, fortified them again and continued on.
It wasn't until she'd opened her eyes again in Bag End that the walls had turned brittle, and it wasn't until she'd laid eyes on him once more that they'd started to fall.
And it wasn't until that very moment, when his eyes sliced into her soul, that the final wall fell completely.
And, just like that, the wound was open and the truth she'd tried so hard to ignore was pouring. It had always been there, seeping out through cracks, bleeding into her veins, poisoning her sleep and freezing her days.
The truth, that the hollow inside her wasn't so hollow after all.
It was full, always had been full, always would be full, and with one thing and one thing only.
The knowledge of how deeply and irrevocably in love she was with this son of Durin. As much as that first day. As much as the last. Every breath, every beat of her heart cried out with the depth of her love for someone lost to her forever. All that love falling forever into emptiness, a void deeper than the one opened in her soul the moment she'd watched him die.”
―
The last thread broke.
She'd spent years building walls around the hollow left by Ravenhill. There had always been cracks, even breaches over the years, but she'd endured, fortified them again and continued on.
It wasn't until she'd opened her eyes again in Bag End that the walls had turned brittle, and it wasn't until she'd laid eyes on him once more that they'd started to fall.
And it wasn't until that very moment, when his eyes sliced into her soul, that the final wall fell completely.
And, just like that, the wound was open and the truth she'd tried so hard to ignore was pouring. It had always been there, seeping out through cracks, bleeding into her veins, poisoning her sleep and freezing her days.
The truth, that the hollow inside her wasn't so hollow after all.
It was full, always had been full, always would be full, and with one thing and one thing only.
The knowledge of how deeply and irrevocably in love she was with this son of Durin. As much as that first day. As much as the last. Every breath, every beat of her heart cried out with the depth of her love for someone lost to her forever. All that love falling forever into emptiness, a void deeper than the one opened in her soul the moment she'd watched him die.”
―
“She felt like she stood on ground that was crumbling away under her feet.
She didn't know what the right course of action was.
She didn't know which way to go.
So, in the end, she would do the one thing she did know.
The one thing she was good at.
She would stand her ground.
And she would fight until she found her way.
If she ever did.”
― Of Dwobbits, Dragons and Dwarves
She didn't know what the right course of action was.
She didn't know which way to go.
So, in the end, she would do the one thing she did know.
The one thing she was good at.
She would stand her ground.
And she would fight until she found her way.
If she ever did.”
― Of Dwobbits, Dragons and Dwarves
“She was drowning, and he'd be damned if she expected him to stand by and watch.”
―
―
“For the first time, she wept for herself.
She wept for all she'd lost.
She wept for being the one who was left behind.”
― An Unexpected Journey: Homeward Bound Part One
She wept for all she'd lost.
She wept for being the one who was left behind.”
― An Unexpected Journey: Homeward Bound Part One
“Their hopes, dreams and fears had been bound up in the figure of Thorin Oakenshield.
Bound with him, and died with him, and as Thorin had gone so had they all.
She rode now with a company of ghosts.
Fourteen souls had marched to Ravenhill, and eleven husks had left it.”
―
Bound with him, and died with him, and as Thorin had gone so had they all.
She rode now with a company of ghosts.
Fourteen souls had marched to Ravenhill, and eleven husks had left it.”
―
“Bilba.
His memory called forth an image, not of how he'd last seen her but of how he normally saw her. Wearing the armor Fili had made her, tall and strong, her sword clutched firmly in hand as she charged forth to battle the dark.
Mahal, but she was beautiful.
She was fire and ice, strength and stubbornness, grace and finesse. She was unwaveringly loyal, kind and compassionate to a fault and braver than anyone he'd ever known.
If someone had asked him to describe the perfect child the resulting image he would have come up with wouldn't have held a candle to the person Bilba actually was.
There was no comparison.
She was as beautiful as Bella had been, inside and out.
And he'd left her in Moria.
Both of them.
(DWALIN)”
― Of Dwobbits, Dragons and Dwarves
His memory called forth an image, not of how he'd last seen her but of how he normally saw her. Wearing the armor Fili had made her, tall and strong, her sword clutched firmly in hand as she charged forth to battle the dark.
Mahal, but she was beautiful.
She was fire and ice, strength and stubbornness, grace and finesse. She was unwaveringly loyal, kind and compassionate to a fault and braver than anyone he'd ever known.
If someone had asked him to describe the perfect child the resulting image he would have come up with wouldn't have held a candle to the person Bilba actually was.
There was no comparison.
She was as beautiful as Bella had been, inside and out.
And he'd left her in Moria.
Both of them.
(DWALIN)”
― Of Dwobbits, Dragons and Dwarves
