Chapter Text
What the hell are all these barbaric dwarves doing in my home, dirtying my floors with their muddy shoes, raiding my kitchen, and eating all my food? They’re even using all my fancy dishware!
Bilbo stood in the hallway, huffing, and puffing to himself in disbelief. Where did they come from? First it was two, then four, then three, then three again! He walked back and forth near the front door. How many more were there? Why were they in his home anyway, or even in the shire itself, dwarves hardly ever came around these parts. He stopped pacing and rubbed the side of his head with one hand. It must have something to do with the wizard who stopped by this morning. Everything went awry today after meeting him on the doorstep.
A dwarf, Bombur he said his name was, called out, “Hey Bilbo, we need some more apple-tarts this way, and more of that red wine, if you’ve got it.” Bombur asked another Dwarf, “Hey Dwalin, pass the white wine.”
“None of that, Bombur. We need some Ale. Laddy! If you could, and bring the pitchers!” Dwalin shouted.
Bilbo just rolled his eyes. It would take the whole market twice over to restock his kitchen! He rummaged around and brought out some apple-tarts, baked bread, pickles, and scones. He returned to the kitchen and refilled his arms with wines and brown beers. He felt just as uncomfortable not serving them food. Technically, they were still guests, as uninvited as they were! How ridiculous this all was. There was hardly any time at all to have a meal himself before they began to show up. Bilbo looked out of the circle window next to the front door. It was a late at night, the moon shining full. If only he were alone tonight to read a book by the fire and have blanket draped over his lap. He let out another sigh of frustration. Weapons, cloaks, and mud lay all around the floor. Bilbo walked to his dining area, checking on further damage.
The Dwarf named Dwalin made eye contact with Bilbo and held a threatening expression. Bilbo felt himself swallow before speaking. He asked them politely, “By the way, how many more of your party will be arriving?” An older dwarf, Balin, nodded. “We’re all here. Just waiting on him.” So, this was nearly all of them? He hardly believed it. More had to have been coming. Soon his home wouldn’t be big enough!
Before responding, he heard another heavy knock at the door and turned around to answer. He opened the door and there awaited the Wizard from earlier, Gandalf.
He looked in at Bilbo. “Gandalf! Finally, you arrive” Bilbo said to him as he crouched to enter the Hobbit’s home that was about half his size. “What exactly is unfolding here? Why are all these Dwarves in my home!” Gandalf looked down at him, “Now, Bilbo, I know how great of a host you are.” Bilbo put his hands on his hips in defiance, “I know you have something to do with this. Out with it!” Gandalf looked at Bilbo somewhat amusingly before smiling and wandering to where to others were. “Oh, yes, of course, thank you for the insightful information.” He sarcastically added.
He looked after Gandalf. What is really going on here? He huffed and puffed again. Nobody is telling him anything! Roaring laughter could be heard from the other room. It irritated him. He wished he could be in as good of a mood as they seemed to be in. He turned in the opposite direction towards the living room and sat in the chair for a moment to catch his breath.
Hardly a moment later, an even louder knock thundered at the door. “It’s him” he heard Dwalin state from the pantry. Bilbo stood up and walked quickly towards the front door. The others began to emerge from the dining room to greet the final guest. Bilbo opened the door, ready to ask who this last Dwarf thought he was, arriving unexpected to his home with all his friends. However, when he opened the door, the Dwarf standing on his doorstep seemed to hold such a powerful presence that Bilbo became a little intimated and instead settled for a “good evening." Under the moonlight, the Dwarf's gaze was fixed on Bilbo, dark and intense. It nearly sent a shiver down his spine.
“Thorin, welcome” Gandalf spoke. The Dwarf walked right past Bilbo with heavy steps, removing his cloak, and only giving him a glance. Two dwarves called out, “Uncle! You’ve arrived! It’s about time.” They both came over with wide grins on their faces. “My precious nephews, Fili, Kili. How did you make it here before me?” He chuckled and gave a firm pat to the tops their shoulders.
Gandalf took a step next to Bilbo. “Bilbo, this is our final guest. I would like to introduce you to Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror.” Gandalf gestured towards Thorin, then towards Bilbo, who still stood by the open door. “Thorin, this is our Burglar, Mr. Bilbo Baggins.” Thorin turned from his nieces and glanced over in Bilbo's direction. Without waiting for a response, Gandalf and the Dwarves went back to the dining area eager to continue their reunion.
Thorin lingered behind for a moment, nodding at Bilbo in greeting with a small smile. Or maybe a smirk. Bilbo felt a bit dumbstruck. Standing there with a dazed look on his face. Compared to the others, Thorin’s aura was more demanding, it was powerful and masculine, appropriate for a Dwarf with such a grand title. Yet, he did not feel at all dangerous, although Bilbo was sure that he could be if he wanted to. He stood slightly taller than Bilbo as well, but his obviously muscular form made the hobbit feel much smaller.
Thorin spoke, “Master Baggins.” He looked at Bilbo and then to the door that was still wide open. Bilbo felt the cool breeze flowing in and realized he had been silently standing there looking at Thorin without even closing the front door. What a grand fool he appeared to be. He quickly closed the door and turned back around. Thorin briefly scanned Bilbo's height, build, and appearance and then went to join the others. Bilbo pressed his hand to his forehead and sighed. Just a few moments ago he was all worked up, and now he felt as if he needed to catch the breath which had escaped him.
He hurriedly re-arranged the hanging cloaks and scattered bags, then went to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror. What was that about? He could hardly say anything back there. Thorin had captured Bilbo's full attention, and, for some reason, he found the Dwarf to be quite... alluring. It was a strange feeling. And, of course, he made a fool of himself. He decided to try and brush it off. He washed his hands, took a few breaths, and left for the pantry. He grabbed a few extra slices of his homemade honey bread and then returned to the group with a brave face. To Bilbo’s surprise they had finished washing up all the extra dishes and had been in a deep discussion. He heard Thorin discuss his grandfather, the history of Dale, and the wickedness of a dragon as he stood behind, near the edge of the room.
Bilbo could not help but listen to his every word. The others sat around the table and appeared to be listening just as intently. Bilbo quietly set the food down on the side table. Thorin then noticed his presence in the doorframe behind.
“Our quest is to reclaim The Lonely Mountain. Make a home for our kind under the mountain once again. Take back what is ours. That beast Smaug does not belong, and his time must come to an end.”
He paused to let it sink in, then continued.
“The 13 of us, myself, my kin, and my brethren, will make up this quest along with Gandalf and... a burglar.” Thorin glanced at Bilbo to the side. Was he referring to me? A burglar? Thorin said the last word as if it were amusing! He gave Thorin with an accusatory look.
Gandalf looked at Bilbo from the side of the table, “which I chose to be you. You may not think so, but you will be a fine burglar on this quest” he says with a smile in attempt to lighten Bilbo's mood. This sounded incredibly dangerous and uncomfortable. He would never survive. His face went a little pale and his mouth dry. “I'm sorry, but once again, are you sure you have the right Hobbit?”
Gandalf stood up, “I chose you with confidence. I assure you, there is reason to my decision. As a hobbit, your stealth would be incredibly useful, and your kind are surprisingly brave and clever little creatures.”
Thorin stood from chair and turned around to join in, “I don't know much of your kind, Master Baggins. If I'm being honest, I am unsure of your ability to survive this quest” Bilbo looked to Thorin, making eye contact. Bilbo felt his chest squeeze. Why was he suddenly feeling nervous around someone he had just met? Especially someone who thought that he was some sort of weakling.
“However... if Gandalf is sure of you, then I will certainly trust his choice, should you agree.” The others slightly nod their heads in agreement. Thorin still looked at Bilbo, waiting for some sort of response. Flustered, Bilbo looks down at the ground, “I'm... I'm not sure. This is all quite sudden.” He suddenly felt hot. There was sweat on his forehead. As righteous as the reason was for such a quest, he would be risking his life.
Balin reached over and handed him a contract, “No pressure lad, but we do plan to leave tomorrow morning. Here is the contract. All you do is sign your name. By tomorrow morning.” Bilbo took the contract and got up in daze to sit in the next room, thinking to himself. Everyone else slowly continued chatting.
The fact that Thorin and the others lost their home pulled at his heart with empathy. As a homebody who loved the comforts of his own home, he could understand the dwarves. Forming together for such a cause was incredibly fascinating and righteous. Like old tales told in the shire. It was intimidating for someone who had only known of afternoon tea and gardening, but he had to admit that it felt exhilarating to be talking of an adventure.
Now, it was much later into the night. The dwarves gathered around Bilbo’s living room. Thorin stood closest to the fireplace and began to lead the vocals to a song. All of the others slowly gathered closer to join in. Gandalf sat in the corner silently observing the musical spirit of dwarves and appeared to be deep in thought.
A bit reluctantly, Bilbo then looked to observe Thorin. The warm embers of the fire illuminated his face. His deep voice spread throughout the room with heavy emotion hanging onto each word of the song. Bilbo tried to observe him without being obvious. He noticed how wide and broad his shoulders were. His dark beard and mustache complimented his jawline, and matched the thick hair that fell down in waves just past his shoulders. The black and silver shades somehow made Thorin's gaze from before much more vivid, his deep blue eyes reminding Bilbo of the sky above. Suddenly, those eyes look down to see Bilbo gazing. Bilbo quickly looked away to pretend as if he wasn't observing the Dwarf.
He tapped his fingers against the arm rest. He supposed that Thorin was not particularly unattractive considering Dwarven appearances. As far as Bilbo knew, which was quite little, their kind was known to have long beards and stocky, bold builds. Based on how the others in the company looked up to Thorin with great respect, it was clear to him that he was not only handsome, but loyal and brave as well. It was the first time for Bilbo to meet someone like Thorin.
Bilbo found himself utterly captivated.
He pulled himself back to reality. What was he doing? Why was he fawning over some Dwarf who stood a few feet away? He was surprised at his own thoughts, and he did not want to admit what he was suddenly feeling. He had not had a crush on anyone since his teen years long ago, and had never even experienced being in a relationship. What did he know? Was this genuine attraction or just newfound infatuation?
As he simmered in thought, bewildered at what he was feeling, the Dwarves moved to more hushed discussions. There were expressions of both excitement and uncertainty. Bilbo stood up to leave. His nerves had settled a bit and it was about time for him to go to bed.
Balin saw Bilbo get up to leave and reminded him, “Remember, if you decide to join our company, you must meet us at by 11am sharp. We will not wait for you, but we all sincerely hope you will be there.”
Bilbo went to his bedroom, laid down on his pillow, and let out a tired sigh. He gently rubbed his eyes. This whole day had been exhausting and the amount of information he had to take in on one night made his head heavy. After a few moments Bilbo remembered the contract presented to him by Balin earlier. He sat up to take it out of his pocket and peer over it once more. He didn’t know what to do. Regardless if that dwarf was the most handsome creature Bilbo had met, he still entered his home with all his kind to eat every piece of food in his kitchen! The whole group of dwarves were still a barbaric bunch that Bilbo wasn't sure he could get along with.
He wasn’t sure if this journey was something he was cut out for. He questioned his ability to even help the dwarves in any way. What if there really is a dragon? Or what if he gets eaten or crushed by some other large creature along the way? It was ridiculous to leave his home in the Shire. He would never be cut out for an adventure of this magnitude. Bilbo looked around his bedroom. The paintings and decorations on the walls, his comfortable chair in the corner, the quilted blanket across his bed, his heirlooms sitting on the shelf. This was all he had known for so many years. His felt reluctant to leave.
Yet, if he did not join them, then he would undoubtedly remain here. Daily life would continue and each day would be the same. Such an opportunity would probably never present itself on the doorstep again. Bilbo loved his afternoon tea and mornings in the garden, but where was the adventurous spirit he had always had? He remembered chasing fairies when he was young. Running under the stars with his friends.
Truly, he wanted to help them, and Gandalf was confident that he could be of value. That had to count for something. Bilbo scoffed to himself. He could not believe it, but in tune with his adventurous spirit, he decided to join the company as their designated burglar. Whatever that would entail. He made up his mind. Regardless of how others viewed him, he knew that making this choice was the right thing to do. Excitement began bubble in his chest. Putting the contract on the nearby table, he grabbed his ink pen and signed his name.
Signed: Thorin son of Thrain
Witnessed: Balin son of Fundin
Burglar: Bilbo Baggins
Now that it was official, his body needed to rest. All the commotion and deep thinking back and forth was utterly exhausting. With a sigh, he nestled in between his quilted blankets and closed his eyes to thoughts of tomorrow's breakfast. He would make sure that it was especially delicious to make up for the meal he was deprived of earlier that evening.