Chapter Text
Billa's minding her own business, very much minding it, actually, glaring out to sea, avoiding her houseguests, and suddenly, there's a splash, she's half-drenched and there's this, this, this, it has to be a tail in front of her face, fin half her height, almost translucent silver at the tip of the tail fading into the most beautiful shades of blue, so beautiful that her hand reaches out without thought.....
She has a half-second to think of how it's warmer than she expected, much warmer than the water, and someone clears their throat from the other side of the dock, the water side of the dock and she looks out of the corner of her eye and the most gorgeous and furious man she's ever seen is leaning there, glaring at her and....blushing?
"Do you always grope before saying hello?" he growls.
"I normally check to see if things that nearly hit me in the face are real and no longer moving, and if protecting myself against a fishie or whatever doing a headstand in my face qualifies as groping...." She growls right back, and reaches out and gives the tail a smack, pushing it away from her.
The man twitches his eyebrows and the tail sways back within an inch of her face. Billa looks cross-eyed at it. It gently taps her nose. Billa gapes.
"H-how is that...you must be....what is that attached to...is it mechanical?" she asks, voice wavering.
He snorts. "It's not attached to a fishie." He waves the tail again, moving it away from her face.
"Um." She bravely leans down and sees that yes, the tail does seem to be heading in his general direction, all we way in his general direction, and as she leans further to make absolutely sure of what her eyes are telling her, she puts one hand out for balance and the tail is suddenly under her palm, making sure she doesn't tip over. She stares as it - as he- gently pushes her back to safety, her hand clasping just where silver starts to shade to blue.... She snatches her hand away. "You're very, I mean, it's very beautiful, and I was curious and am terribly sorry, I've never met a a a a....."
"Merman," he supplies, drawling, exasperated, though he's starting to smile a little.
"Yes, that." Billa says faintly. She blinks for a few moments and puts her hand out. "Billa Baggins, pleased to meet you. Sorry about the groping." She pats herself on the back for the recovery of her manners.
He stares at her hand a moment, visibly pushing down his previous annoyance to be courteous, then pushes himself slightly higher on the dock (Billa tries not to stare too openly at his muscular arms and well-made chest), takes her hand in one of his, and bends over to kiss it.
"Thorin Oakenshield, at your service, Miss Baggins."
"Oaken....but..."
He looks at her from under his brow, grumpy again. "It's a long tale."
"Aren't all sea tales long ones?" A beat too late she realizes that might sound a little naughty. A gleam in his eye as he bends over her hand again confirms that theory.
"All the best ones," he murmurs in a low, deep voice, and Billa flushes to her toes. Then he looks up and gives her a smile of pure mischief, pushes away from the dock and backflips into the water, one last flick of his tail drenching her again.
"I don't think 'at your service' means 'please half-drown me whenever possible!" Billa shouts.
Thorin surfaces about ten meters in front of her. "I would never let you drown," he says, his eyes suddenly serious and fierce.
"I was teasing,..."
"I don't tease about that." He most definitely doesn't tease about it from the protective look on his face.
"Thank you." Billa replies softly, and he gives her small, grave smile.
"So what does 'at your service' mean?"
His eyes flash again. "It's a long tale."
Billa rolls her eyes. "How did I know you were going to say that?"
Thorin grins at her and it's simply stunning. Billa can't even think for a moment, it's such a beautiful smile, and his grin gets even warmer.
Suddenly, Billa hears the door to the cottage open. Thorin's gaze darts behind her, and a second later, she can hear Primula and Drogo chattering away. She half-turns to check their progress, and when she turns back, Thorin is gone.
Billa drops her head, disappointed, and begins wringing out her jumper. Something touches her foot and she jerks, and a strong hand grips her ankle. Peering over the edge, she finds Thorin's head bobbing just above the surface.
"Thorin?" she hisses, jerking her leg, but he holds on.
He shakes his head, puts his finger over his lips, and rubs his thumb over her ankle. His fingers are webbed.
"Come tomorrow, before sunset. An hour before," he all but orders in a low whisper. Billa raises her eyebrows and gives him a look.
"Please." he growls, blushing again, and why his grouchy/bossy shyness makes her giddy, Billa doesn't know, but it does.
"I promise," she whispers softly, and before he sinks beneath the surface, he darts her a pleased look under his brow and kisses her instep.
She's staring vaguely at the water (looking for flashes of silver, blue and blue-black hair) when her cousins make it to the end of the dock.
"Been swimming with the fishies, Billa?" Drogo drawls, giving her wet hair a pat.
"Not quite yet," she murmurs.