Chapter Text
Bilba has always thought her hair to be unnecessarily long and the only thing it’s ever been good for is for keeping her warm during winter. The Tower does, after all, have a terrible heating system (read: no heating system) and Mother has never been good at passive spells that would heat Bil’s bed or the stones underneath her feet. Her spells were much better along the point-and-destroy, or point-and-fire, which Bil has long since resigned herself to. It’s not very helpful, like, ever, but if Bil can last almost twenty years with Mother like that, it’s no big deal. Besides, Mother protects her and brings her food using that magic, although Bil wouldn’t mind having more vegetables. Mother says that she just doesn’t care for dirt and getting dirty, but Bil only knows that dirt is soil because of books. She’s never touched the ground before and she’s only gotten dirty from sweating because of heat.
So, tucked away in her Tower, Bil spends her time reading or braiding endless braids in her long, thick hair that will eventually come undone. She’d try braiding flowers in, but that would require not being in the Tower and she would rather not try and climb down the Tower. She’s thought about it extensively, although she loves Mother and all, it’s just frightfully boring up here all the time. Sure, so she has endless, beautiful vistas all the way around, this is probably some prime real estate, but there’s nothing that’s ever new. Bil knows the trees, she knows the small river she can see just a little ways into the forest, and she’s crossed out every bird which can possibly live in this area from her bird-spotting book.
Bil knows that there is nothing for her here. Her hair trails on the floor after her, never touched since her birth, and Mother goes out and keeps her safe. She says that bandits roam the land, and bears and huge moose that would eat her in one gulp, but when Bil had suggested that maybe they should move, her Mother had screamed and yelled at her and not returned for almost an entire week. Bil had never brought it up again from fear and she had wondered if Mother is keeping her here simply because she can. She used to believe everything her Mother told her, but why would she yell at such a reasonable suggestion? If she loves Bil, why would she leave Bil alone for so long and continuously? If there are bandits and other nefarious sorts of people, they should change neighborhoods. Also, what exactly do bandits do? Bil’s seen no such people and is suspicious that bandits don’t even exist; she’s not seen much of them in her books.
It’s been three years since she brought it up, and her hair has grown approximately three feet and nine inches. Sometimes she really wants to cut it off, but fears that Mother would yell and leave her for an extended period of time again because leaving her hair alone is one of the rules Bil is to never, ever break.
It’s just— her hair is just so long and so hot during the summer. It’s entirely too thick, and the little curls that come out everywhere are ticklish. The only good part really is that during the winter when it keeps her warm. There are tangles all over the place, Bil bets, but since her hair is so long she doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to get them out. Mother had brought her endless hair brushes, all of which are currently lined on a dresser, but none of them ever seemed to do the trick. The bristles would come out in her hair, the handle would snap in two, or it was too weak to be of any use.
So Bil leave her hair alone and she doesn’t mention leaving to Mother and spends her time whenever possible on her balcony, watching sunrises and sunsets, listening to the distant sounds of high-pitched squirrels or other animals and reads. The only books she has are books that Mother brought for her, and they’re a limited resource. There are only so many books Bil can fit in the bookcase in her Tower, though she has started piling books up next to it, some of them ten high, and sometimes Bil wonders just how many books there are in the world. She reads the history books Mother brings, literature, other fiction political science, but not once is there a book about magic.
Above all else, Bil wants a magic book. Literature is great and all, history as well, but she’s had so little contact with people and she’s seen Mother float herself up, set a fire blazing with a snap and point of two fingers in a fireplace with no wood. She’s seen her do all sorts of magic that Bil wants to try as well; sometimes her fingertips ache to try the point and snap but she doesn’t understand how. Does she direct her thoughts? Is magic latent in everyone, or only a select few?
Bil remembers, when a little girl, her pudgy legs dangling over the edge of the balcony, watching Mother fly herself up and asking if Bil can do it to. Mother had been angry, her hair swishing around her with her no as she marched Bil inside, locked all the doors and closed all the shutters. Bil doesn’t remember how long Mother was gone, but she remembers the pitch darkness of inside the Tower. She remembers learning where everything was and she remembers accidentally stepping on a vase she hadn’t remembered earlier and knocked down. There are still faint scars on the sole of her foot.
When Mother comes back, though, she’s sunshine and smiles, a wreath of good will and Bil brightens because she’s been so lonely, she’s been aching so long for someone to come back and love her. She needs Mother, needs her so badly and back then her foot had hurt so much and she had stopped moving for fear of hurting even more. Mother had clucked worriedly over her foot and swept Bil up into her arms and laid her gently on her bed and used some sort of magic to make the pain go away.
However long that was, Bil remembers it clearly and she knows that she’s not to ask about magic. All the rules Bil knows were never verbally set in place; they are bits and pieces Bil has gathered over the twenty years of her life.
One day she hears something that is not the familiar sounds of birds, other animals, wind blowing in the trees. There are crashing noises, muted shouts that she can vaguely hear, remaining indistinct, and she watches as birds scatter from their trees in flocks, flying in circles before landing as the disturbance passes. Someone is coming, Bil realizes, and that someone is not her Mother. Her hands close her book unconsciously, not even sticking a finger to keep her spot and she brings it inside and sets it upon the table. Her feet keep her there for some long moments, staring blankly out the other door to the other view of forest she has. That side is peaceful and quiet, though she can hear the noise behind her clearly. The shouts are coming closer; Bil wonders if they’re aiming for the Tower or if the Tower just happens to be in their path.
When she exits onto the balcony, three people are exiting the forest and her eyes widen quickly as she sees men— men— and hastily steps back inside and presses against the wall. She’s never seen men before, only heard descriptions of height, rage and how she should be scared of them above all else.
She is scared, heart beating quickly in her chest, but they have stopped yelling. Bil peeks around the corner and notices that they’re staring at the Tower. She swiftly retracts her head and hopes they didn’t see her or the swish of her hair. When the shouting doesn’t continue for a moment more, she slides to the ground and crawls out onto the balcony, hair dragging along with her. Bil might be scared, but her fear does not trump her curiosity and this is likely to be Bil’s only chance to learn about other people.
Peering over the edge, they look very small. She thought that they’d be taller, taller than Mother at least, but they look hardly that. Maybe Mother is just extraordinarily tall, although she’s not that much taller than Bil herself, only a few inches. As she’s watching, unable to help watching them and knowing that she should be shuttering herself into the Tower, the argument starts up again.
“Remind me again how you lost the horses,” the tallest one of them says. He has dark hair and it’s pulled into a ponytail, a long line down his back. It’s not nearly as long as Bil’s though, but it’s longer than Mother’s. His voice is also surprisingly deep; it sounds nothing like Mother’s voice, nor the sound of her own voice and nothing like the animals in the forest. Is this what men sound like?
“There was an ogre coming at me, so I ran off! I didn’t want to die.” This one is also dark-haired with a ponytail, though much shorter, and Bil wonders if the three of them are related, if they make up a family. If this is what families are like, what men are like, Bil’s not sure she wants either.
“Without the horses, it’s taken us twice the time to even reach this forsaken forest.” Bil frowns. The forest isn’t forsaken, though Bil wonders if the forest is so very different when under the canopy.
But who are these men? Are they bandits? They are all wearing swords, and the shorter ponytailed man has a bow held loosely in his hand. Weapons, then, and Bil is half-curious as to how to use them and half-dreading how they could be used on her.
The last one, blonde with his hair in a braid, is still staring at the Tower and Bil scuttles backwards a little when his gaze drifts upwards. “Hello?”
“Who are you talking to? No one lives here.” It’s the long ponytail man, body turning to face the blonde. Bil inches forward again and she knows that this is probably a Very Bad Idea. “You were supposed to stay back with Kili as well. What were you thinking? We’re miles from home—”
Bil creeps even closer to the edge of the balcony and she can see a wide smile cross the blonde’s face. “Hey, look, someone is there! Hello, how are you?”
She ducks back, but the back and forth motion had let her hair too close to the edge of the balcony and it starts tumbling over the edge, pulling harshly at her scalp. It hurts, a lot, and Bil winces as she starts pulling it up with her hands and accidentally lets slip a sharp cry when she feels a tug. “Stop that, it’s my hair and that hurts!” The tugging continues, but lighter and Bil crossly stares down at them. “Could you please release my hair? Letting it dangle so is painful as well.”
The blonde is grinning, and the short ponytailed man is grinning as well, the hands buried in her hair evidence that he is the culprit. “Your hair is quite miraculous, fair lady.”
“You can hardly see my face so I’d like you to refrain from calling me fair until we can meet at a much closer distance— which, fortunately enough, is not going to happen. Now let go of my hair!”
“Kili,” the long ponytailed man says, a hand on his shoulder. “How would you like me to pull your hair and refuse to let go?”
Kili releases her hair and Bil quickly starts pulling it up until it spools next to her. “Thank you, sir, for your help.”
The man looks up at her, his expression solemn. “I must apologize for my nephew’s rudeness.”
She smiles. If they’re bandits, they’re awfully nice bandits. Not at all likely to wreck a violent death upon her. “I accept your apology, but I believe the apology would mean more coming from the offender.”
The man scuffs Kili again, pushing him forward and Bil stands to lean over the rail, checking to make sure her hair doesn’t tumble off again, in order to see Kili bow. “I’m sorry.” The words are muffled and he quickly scampers away from his uncle once said. “But my fair lady, as I will insist upon calling you as your hair is quite lovely, why are you in this tower?”
Bil shrugs. “Because I live here.”
“How did you come to live there?” Fili asks, stepping back to join Kili. Bil thinks it might be because they don’t need to crane their necks back so much.
“I was born here,” she replies, amused. “And have had no chance, nor the will, to leave.”
Which is true, for the most part. She’d rather not die.
The two look at each other and Bil can’t quite read their expressions because they are both too far away and faces pointed too far away the other way. Their uncle soon steps backwards so that the three of them are in a row and he stands firm, arms crossed over his chest. Bil smiles, resting her elbows on the railing and propping her head up with fists as she stares down at them.
“Might I ask a question now?”
“We are at your service, my fair lady,”
“Do you happen to be bandits?”
Fili and Kili— whom Bil has decided are siblings— share a look with each other before looking at their uncle. She can see him narrow his eyes and clench his teeth. “We are not bandits. We have simply lost our horses by an earlier misjudgment and we’re trying to make our way back home.”
“How do I know you’re not bandits?” Bil can’t help asking, and though there is clear amusement in her tone, she honestly doesn’t know if they are or not. “I’ve been oft warned of them.”
“Even if we were bandits, lady,” Fili says, tone equally playful. “I must say that this tower of yours looks entirely impregnable. No man would be able to climb it and no man could reach your balcony.”
She grins at him. “That is true, isn’t it.” Maybe this is why they do not move; there are few places safer than the Tower and if Mother loves her, as she’s said endless times when returning after a long absence, then all Mother wants is to keep her safe. “I believe I am as safe as a king up here.”
The two brothers share quick looks and the man smiles widely at her. “I don’t think kings are as safe as you believe them to be.”
“Perhaps so, but his people must hold their king dear and wish little harm upon him and so they protect him.”
“You are quite idealistic, lady.”
She huffs and rolls her eyes. “Please stop calling me lady, it’s making me uncomfortable.”
“What shall we call you then, fair lady?”
Bil thinks for a moment and ponders giving them her real name. There might not be any harm in it, but Bil is scared of Mother finding out she had talked to strange men. It would amuse her a little, as well. “My name is Blueberry, if you please.” Kili starts chuckling and Fili pushes his shoulder, although he’s smiling as well. “And what are yours?” She knows the two names of the two boys, although they had not been properly introduced and she’s not sure about their uncle.
“Fili, at your service.”
“My name is Kili, fair lady, if you might grace my name with your voice.”
Wow, okay, that is overdone even with Kili’s insistence on ‘fair lady’. Bil squints at him and wonders exactly what is wrong with him. He looks sane, but Bil’s being honest when she says that she doesn’t know how to tell the difference between sane and insane people.
“And my name is Thorin.” He sweeps a bow and straightens. “And, Miss Blueberry, would you happen to know the way to Dale?”
“Dale?” She repeats softly, standing straight and looking around. “I couldn’t say for sure, but you’re currently in the southern reaches of Greenwood Forest. Might you tell me which way Dale is from here?”
She hears all three of them mutter and is curious of their tone, but as much as she strains her ears, she cannot hear their words.
“Dale would be to to the north, Blueberry,” Fili calls up to her. “Would you please point us in that direction?”
She nods, bemused and points to her right. “North is in that direction.”
Thorin bows again, hands in the same position. “Thank you yet again, Miss Blueberry. You have most likely saved our lives.”
A smile quirks her lips. “Nonsense. I’m sure you would have been able to find Dale without me. I have simply decreased your travel time. I hope you travel safely.”
“It was a pleasure meeting you Miss Blueberry, and farewell.” Thorin nods briefly and starts striding in the direction she had pointed. Fili and Kili are quick to move after him, but pause at the edge of the forest.
Fili is next. “Farewell, Miss Blueberry.”
And then Kili. “Until we meet again, my fair lady.”
Then they follow their uncle and Bil is alone. The loneliness when Mother is gone is always acute, but this loneliness is different, as though awakening something previously dormant. She had never met other people before, but Bil heavily doubts that they’ll ever meet each other again. It doesn’t seem possible. They were lost and that’s how they found her Tower. She can’t see signs of any other people for all the distant view her vistas provide her.
There’s little choice of them ever meeting again, but Bil dearly wishes she will.