Chapter Text
⥋
Bilba Baggins had a bad feeling.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Nori, rather that she didn’t trust his associates. Vasse had already proven to Bilba, through her snooping the night she’d kicked Ossi’s face in, that he was a danger of some sort. She knew that Nori owed him, though the amount wasn’t something he’d ever revealed to her, even after her nearly-relentless needling.
Maybe she shouldn’t have followed Nori. But what else was she to do? Her shifty friend was being… well, shifty! She didn’t like it. It’s really, really not your business, Bilba, she’d thought. But her steps hadn’t faltered.
She’d hoped that he’d prove her wrong and head to Suthri’s inn - but no. The night was deep, the moon a sliver, and she’d found it all too easy to follow him into the darker parts of Dale, the parts he’d warned her away from more than once. Bounder’s Circle.
It’d given her a twist in her gut ever since that first time. It was dark, quiet. Perhaps too quiet, since she’d lost sight of Nori. The streets smelled of iron, of moss, and something wet and moldy. She could see slivers of light from behind closed curtains in the windows she passed, from the flickering lanterns and torches that were on the corners. But she didn’t see anything real until she’d reached the circle proper. She ducked behind a low wall, pulling her cloak tighter around her, pressing herself close to the rough brick. Her head was pounding loud enough that she half thought they’d be able to hear - but the focus was not on her.
Rather, of course, it was on Nori.
She hadn’t seen him grab the fancy red leather coin purse he kept his money in - something she knew Dori must’ve given to him- but there it was, in the hands of Vasse. The man was tall as she remembered, though his eyes looked more severe than she’d seen. He was wearing a long coat, his face covered in thick silver stubble. Vasse’s slick silver hair was pushed back out of his eyes, and he tossed the little coin purse in his hand a few times as he tutted.
Nori looked tense but altogether rather calm for the situation, she thought, though he was facing away from her. A tall and not particularly pretty woman was standing next to Vasse with a smirk on her face, and a large, bulky man with dirty reddish hair that she’d never seen before was holding one of Nori’s arms behind his back.
“Is this a game to you, Nori?” came Vasse’s voice. It was calm, smooth, as if he’d asked if Nori’d enjoyed his dinner. It made her skin crawl, and she pressed herself closer to the wall. The one holding Nori twisted his arm tighter and Nori hissed in pain.
Bilba bit her lip. The pit in her stomach was growing.
“I swear I’ve got the rest of the money, Vasse,” he spat, but Bilba did not think he sounded convincing. “I just… I just need a little more time to get it all together.”
Vasse tutted, and then sighed, shaking his head. “You’ve had time, Nori. Nearly two years of it. I feel I’ve been especially accommodating to your situation.” He paused, looking thoughtful, before pocketing Nori’s coin purse. “And yet, here we are. A disappointing lack of progress.” He crouched then, bringing his face level with Nori’s, and Bilba caught the glint of his pale eyes. “You’re clever. That’s why I’ve been so patient. But my patience runs thin. You have three days. Three. And if I don’t have what I’m owed by then…” His lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Well, I think you know what happens to thieves who don’t pay their debts.”
The one standing next to Vasse, still smirking wickedly, leaned close to Vasse’s ear. Even though she spoke quietly, the Circle was so still that her voice carried to where Bilba was crouched rather easily. “What if we take one of his fingers now? Remind him of the deadline?”
Nori flinched, his defiance flickering for a moment, and Bilba’s stomach churned. She gripped the edge of her cloak tightly, her mind racing. She had no plan, no thought on how to stop this from happening.
Vasse clapped, and straightened. “Petra, you are a delight. Hrani, help her. Remind him of his place.”
Perhaps Bilba Baggins had lost her Baggins-ness. How else could she explain the adrenaline rush that flooded her when the big fellow stretched Nori’s hand out across the stone, and when the woman whisked a knife out of her cloak? How else could she explain her rush forward? How else could she explain the way she could not control her movement as she darted into the lantern light, how else could she explain jumping upon that frighteningly-tall silver-haired villain with the letter opener Glóin had given her clutched in her hand?
It was very, very quick. Quicker than she’d even realized. She didn’t even remember doing it.
The blade sank into Vasse’s side, between his ribs, and for a moment, the only sound she could hear was her own heartbeat. That was before Vasse screamed. It was guttural, raw, and only a moment later he’d pushed her off and she’d tumbled to the ground, the letter opener still clutched in her hand.
“What the fuck?” he bellowed, voice ragged. He kicked out wildly, and one foot connected with her ribs but she was buzzing with adrenaline. She reeled to catch her breath as she scrambled, but she barely gave herself time to feel the kick it as she shoved herself to her feet. Nori was staring at her - Petra, the dirty-looking human woman with crooked teeth, had dropped her blade, but in the frenzy of the moment had only nicked off the very tip of his finger - Nori had flung himself backwards and the man that had been twisting his arm had jumped from the shock of Bilba flashing across the Circle.
“Where did she—who the fuck is that?!” Vasse demanded, his tone rising as he swayed unsteadily on his feet. Blood seeped between his fingers, staining the fabric of his coat. “Get her—get her now, you useless bastards!”
Petra had taken an instinctive step back. “She’s tiny!” she spat, as if trying to rationalize what had just happened. “What the hell was that?”
“Obviously it was a dwarf, you fucking idiot!” Vasse snarled, his voice breaking. “Kill her! Now!”
But before Petra and the other lackey could react, Bilba was already moving, grabbing Nori’s hand and yanking him forward.
“You’ve stabbed him!” It was a complete shock that had taken Nori, and he did his best to keep up with her. His hand was slick with blood in hers, but she did not think about it - she was abuzz with adrenaline and thought of nothing but the next step forward.
“Yes, I have,” was her response, and they ran.
“You carry a knife?” was the next question, an incredulous, breathless shout as she led them through an alleyway. He took the lead then, and pulled her around a dark corner. The shouts and pounding of feet were still behind them, though not quite as loud as before.
“I - no - it’s a letter opener!”
The next was a jubilant, almost hysterical laugh, and then they passed the hidden door of his storeroom. Nori skidded to a halt, which caused her to trip and fall, hissing as she felt the skin on her hands open, but he yanked her back up. She collided with his chest as he scrambled to open it with his key, nearly dropping the thing in the process, but then pushed her inside as the door opened.
They could hear feet thudding behind them, shouts from Vasse and his goons; she yanked him through the door and slammed it shut. The edge disappeared and she sunk against the wall, heart pounding and sweat heavy on her brow. Nori slumped to the ground beside her, laughing breathlessly.
She looked at him for what felt like the first time then; face flushed from the run, eye blackened and lip split, though he looked more carefree than perhaps he should’ve, smiling widely at her. “Mahal, Bilba, but you are a sight.” He pushed his own hair back from where it’d come out of his braids and sat up a little straighter as he looked at her. “You’ve got incredible nerve.”
She didn’t quite feel that way. She felt as though she was going to shake herself out of her skin. The buzz in her ears faded and she realized quite suddenly that she was breathing raggedly, could feel herself trembling, and felt altogether rather clammy.
Not one quite accustomed to such an instance of nerve.
“You’re shaking like a leaf.” He gently took her wrist, and she looked down. “Mahal… your dress.“
Blood ran up her sleeve, covered her hand and dripped from the blade. His, hers, Vasse’s - no way to truly know now. It was scarlet, bright against her skin, dark against the periwinkle heavy cotton of her dress. She still had the letter opener, clutched tightly with white knuckles. She dropped it into his hand, still shaking. He turned it over in his hand, and looked at her with raised eyebrows.
“Glóin… for studying well.” Her voice was shaking too, she noticed, and Nori put the letter-opener on the stone. He pulled a handkerchief from the inner pocket of his jacket, hushing her weak protests, and scrubbed her knuckles clean, before wrapping it very deftly around his nicked fingertip.
“I’ll launder the dress- promise,” he said quietly, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She shook, still in shock, and looked up at him.
His lip was still oozing faintly. There was a cut on his cheekbone, too, but small, bleeding only a little. She grasped his hand, and he looked down at her.
“Let’s get cleaned up.” He nodded at her comment, but didn’t move. “Don’t… don’t tell Bofur.” He giggled at this, then gasped.
“Fuck me,” and a great guffaw, “don’t tell Dori.”
Her eyes grew wide, already watery from the shock of it all, but finally, finally the great giant drops fell as she laughed, shaking her head, shaking in general.
“No, wise to, to not tell Dori.” Great hiccuping laughing cries, and Nori simply pulled her close while she held her face in her hands and cried. “That was awful,” she cried, and he rested his cheek on the top of her head.
“Thank you,” was all he could respond.
She nodded, into his shoulder, and they sat a few minutes longer before he sniffed and stood, pulling her to her feet alongside. “C’mon,” he started, gently, and she blinked rapidly.
“I can’t stop,” she sniffled, wiping at her cheeks with her free hand. “You must think me silly,” she laughed, “a silly little girl, crying in the street.”
He shushed her, one hand finding it’s way to cup her cheek, and she looked up at him with watery eyes. It was the most plainly concerned expression she’d perhaps ever seen; his eyes looked so sad, mouth a downturned line under his mustache.
“No, Bilba, no. Never.” His voice was nearly a whisper, and he wiped a tear away. “Why would I think it silly that you risked all to protect me?” She sniffled, looking up at him. It was perhaps the softest look he’d ever given her, like she was made of something softer than she was. He shook his head. “Nothing silly ‘bout it. Brave, really. And you’re the fastest thing I’ve ever seen on two legs.” He chuckled and wiped again. “I didn’t even know you were there ‘til you were on top of him.”
She laughed wetly, and he wrapped her into a tight hug. “So thank you, very much, Bilba Baggins, for saving me from what would’ve been an awful evening.”
⥋