Chapter Text
Disclaimer: Don’t own the Hobbit in any form
Chapter 1
Bilbo Baggins was a very normal hobbit as far as he was concerned. Sure, he liked walking a bit more than his neighbours, he even travelled as far as Bree when he wanted something out of the normal but even so he was a normal, gentle hobbit. So Gandalf’s strange visit had left him more than a little unsettled. He hadn’t seen the Wizard since… he shook those memories off. Dwelling on those times never did any good after all.
An adventure, once he would have jumped at the chance but that was years ago, before…before everything changed. It was dangerous enough going to Bree with all the Big Folk there, a lot of unsavoury sorts lingered in the town, but he had learnt to take care of himself and he was known in Bree so he was fairly safe. And there was a good-sized population of Hobbits who chose to live in the town as well, it was always nice to trade news with them. He didn’t travel to Bree as much anymore and when he did, he used the hidden trails, ones not known to men. The road had become ever more dangerous over the years.
To travel even further than Bree? His mother had, he remembered her stories fondly, had dreamed of going on an adventure with her one day as a Faunt. Had she lived then she would have taken him with her once he was of age but they had never gotten the chance to go. Maybe she would want him to take this chance but he couldn’t, he had too many responsibilities now to just up and leave even if he wanted to. And he didn’t…did he? Besides, Gandalf hadn’t even said where he wanted this adventure to go! He doubted it would be somewhere safe like Rivendell.
Bilbo shook of such thoughts and went through his mail before putting a nice rich blue velvet coat on and picked up his basket to head to market. He needed a few things and he had the urge to fry some fish for dinner. He walked through the market slowly, picking up what he needed and then hesitated. He had not seen Gandalf in over twenty years but he remembered his mother’s stories, he may have turned the Wizard down but that did not mean he wouldn’t show up. Manners said he’d have to feed him if he did sadly. So he went back to shopping, this time making sure he had enough for two. He didn’t want to be a bad host if he did show up after all. His larder was full, but fresh food was always the best when entertaining.
Bilbo changed into old clothes once home so that he could spend the day puttering around in his garden and answering business correspondence. His father may not have been an adventurer like his wife but he had a good head for business and when they had died that business passed to Bilbo as their sole child. It wasn’t hard work or anything but it could get quite involved, especially since he had branched out into Bree.
As night began to fall he set all that aside and began to cook. He never knew exactly how much the big people ate so he made enough for two hobbits and a little extra to be safe. There was soup and fresh bread to start and then beautifully seasoned fish with sautéed vegetables as well as some small meat pies with roasted potatoes and pumpkin. Dessert was a fresh blueberry crumble with cream and some scones, still fresh from earlier in the day. Once that was all either done or merrily cooking in the oven he quickly ensured the various areas a guest might go where tidy. He then went to dress for company and sure enough just as he was buttoning his waist coat there was a knock on the door.
“Coming!” He called, quickly ducking into the kitchen to put the kettle over the heat. He pulled open his door only to stare in surprise.
“Dwalin, at your service.” The tall, partially bald dwarf said and manners had Bilbo giving a small bow.
“Bilbo Baggins at yours Master Dwarf.” He stepped back to allow entrance while mentally berating meddling wizards. “If you’ll just hang your coat up and place your pack by the wall please, supper is in the kitchen. I...well I don’t mean to be rude but Gandalf did send you?’
“Aye.” He removed his coat and pack before heading further in.
“Of course he did.” Bilbo muttered, shaking his head. “Am I to expect any more guests this evening?” He asked as Dwalin sat, moving to serve him.
“You don’t know?” the dwarf finally looked up at him from the food.
“All I know is that Gandalf showed up this morning, for the first time in over twenty years, asking for someone to share in an adventure. I told him no but I heard enough stories as a Faunt to know that he doesn’t always listen so I assumed he may show up tonight and cooked for two.” Bilbo answered as he placed a bowl of soup before the dwarf along with a good serving of nice warm bread and butter.
Dwalin was shocked. Cooked for two and now he would have thirteen dwarves and a wizard to feed. Why had Gandalf not told him? Or better yet send them word that their burglar had said no? That explained why he had seemed confused at the door. And yet he allowed Dwalin inside and fed him. Not the typical response to his people, most reacted in fear on seeing them. He had seen it as he made his way through the Shire, how other halflings had turned away, kept their children close. It hurt but he was well used to it.
“Including yourself and the wizard there will be fifteen of us tonight Master Baggins.”
He did not know why the Wizard had chosen a hobbit as the final member of their company and if Thorin did, he had not shared with the rest of them. They seemed a quiet folk, wary of outsiders or dwarves at least. Very settled in their land. He had only seen a halfling in one other place and that was when he had passed through Bree.
This hole…home was set higher than the others in this part, richer? His host appeared well dressed and the interior, while not his preference, was warm and welcoming. The wood was solid and well hewn. It lacked the stone his people preferred to build with but it was underground which made it feel more welcoming.
He hadn’t gotten such a close look at any of the other hobbits, trying to subtly take in his host. They were closer to his own kind in height than the other races, in fact most were even shorter than dwarves were. Master Baggins had a mass of shining dark gold curls framing his face and trailing down his neck. His eyes were an interesting hazel colour that seemed to shift with the light. When he turned his head, his hair shifted enough to reveal his ears and Dwalin tensed in reaction to such an elvish trait but no…they might be pointed but the shape was quite different to those of the elves. The most obvious trait he had noticed among the halflings was their rather large feet, and Master Baggins had them, letting him get a better look. They had the enough hair to make a dwarf proud, was it long enough to braid? The soles of their feet must be very tough though as he had not noticed any of them wearing shoes. That would indicate their feet might be tougher than even those of a dwarf.
Despite his shock at Dwalin’s presence, the halfling had treated him with respect, something most wouldn’t do. He doubted the other was a burglar at all, what was Gandalf thinking?
“Oh my.” Bilbo was horrified, so many! But he drew himself up, was he or was he not The Baggins of Bag End? “Very well. Once you have finished your soup there is a bathing room at the end of the hall that you may use to clean up, the bath has a steady supply of hot water if you wish to have an actual bath. I need to get cooking.”
With that he vanished into his pantry to gather supplies. Hungry dwarves who had been on the road for several weeks at least probably meant he could get away with simple yet filling food. The nearest dwarven settlement wasn’t exactly close by, it might not be winter but it still wouldn’t have been an easy journey. Even if they were travelling by pony, it would take around two weeks, and that was with perfect conditions! He knew how far away Ered Luin was, there had been talk of sending for aide from the dwarves there once, but the journey had been judged as too dangerous.
Bilbo honestly thought that they’d be better off trading with the dwarves than men. Dwarves were far more honest overall, despite their reputation, and they could have given food in exchange for extra protection. Things had never been as bad as that winter, but they had never returned to the same level of safety either. Every year a Took or two would fail to return home after wandering.
Bilbo prepared food as quickly as he could without giving up on the quality. To feed such a large company, he would have to empty his larder but that was fine. He always kept far more than he needed out of memory of that time. He would not let them come to his smial and leave underfed or tired. That would be a disgrace.
Dwalin gazed after the halfling in surprise, he had expected the smaller male to insist he leave after hearing that. That was what anyone else would have done. Their allies had turned them away after the dragon, there had been no help anywhere. Their kin had taken in some of them, but Thrór had decided to reclaim their ancestral home. That had failed so thoroughly…when it was over they had lost the king, his heir, and far too many of their people. It had been Thorin who had rallied them, had led them to the Blue Mountains, had made a home in Ered Luin for them. All without any help. Would the halflings offered aid even if only to the young and old? Or perhaps trade? It was too late now to consider that. Ered Luin could not support them for much longer, with the prophesised signs as well, Thorin had chosen now to return to their home. He had gone to ask their kin once again for help, but Dwalin was unable to find any hope that they would help.
And here was a halfling, not a fellow dwarf, offering a hot bath and had rushed off to cook enough food for their party. A hot bath, when was the last time he had enjoyed such a luxury? He quickly finished his food and went to grab his pack, if he was getting the chance to bathe then he was not putting his travel filthy clothes back on. He found the bathroom easily enough and was impressed. The tub was large enough to easily accommodate him and likely at least one other. Sure enough there was a tap marked with a rune for hot. He soon had the tub filled and sank down to soak for a while, letting the heat sink into his muscles. He looked through the supplies, finding a bar of soap as well as liquid soap. He carefully undid his braids, soaking his hair, before scrubbing both hair and beard with the liquid soap. He used the bar of soap and a rough cloth to scrub his body, grimacing at the way the water changed colour. He ended up draining the tub to wash off again, just to make sure he got it all. He got out of the tub and wrapped a towel around his hips, wringing his hair out before wrapping it in another towel. He took his time drying off and re-doing his braids before dressing in cleaner clothes. Might they have time to do some washing before they left?
By the time he made his way back to the kitchen all he could do was stop and stare in awe at the dishes of steaming food.
“Ah, good. Give me a hand with the table please? We’ll need to add it to the one in the main dining room to seat everyone.” Master Baggins told him so Dwalin moved to take the end and between them they soon had it settled and enough chairs placed around for everyone. “Well while we wait for your companions could you tell me what brings so many dwarves to the Shire? Every few years one or two of your people may pass through or even stop to trade but never such a large group.”
Dwalin took a deep breath, wishing his brother had arrived first since he was better with words. “Do you know anything of Erebor?”
Bilbo frowned in thought. “The Lonely Mountain? It was destroyed by a dragon or something. It took years for rumour to reach here and who knows how accurate it was, it was about one hundred and seventy years ago? That is within the lifetime of a dwarf, isn’t it?” He led Dwalin back to the room with comfortable looking chairs and thick rugs, the fire now roaring merrily in the hearth.
“Aye, Smaug the Terrible attacked the mountain and claimed it for himself. Many of our people died that day and the rest of us fled into exile. We barely made it out of the mountain; the elves turned their backs on us and Dale was destroyed. We travelled for many years before eventually we settled in Ered Luin.” That got a nod as it was the closest Dwarven settlement to the Shire, Dwalin assumed that it was from there that traders sometimes came, it would explain some of the goods and food that occasionally appeared. He did not mention Azanulbizar, there was no need to relive that horror or the things they had gone through while wandering. “There has been no sign of the beast now for sixty years and the portents are good.”
Master Baggins stared in shock. “You’re going to Erebor?”
“We will take our home back, Master Baggins,” Dwalin stated even as a knock sounded on the door.
TBC…