Belladonna Baggins the second was incredibly displeased. Not only was her house full of rude dwarves, but they were uninvited, rude dwarves. Currently, they were banging her west farthing china around whilst blunting her precious silverware…and now they were singing. She silently cursed the young dwarf who had asked her what to do with his plate.

She stopped fuming to listen and furiously realized that they were singing about how uptight she was. How wrong they were! If anything she was one of the most laid back hobbit lasses in the shire! None of the other hobbit lasses ever had adventures as children or adults and certainly none of them ever dressed in trousers to visit Bree and consort with the less rigid hobbit society there. Never mind what she did with those hobbit lads, but as she saw it she was a spinster and as such allowed certain liberties.

Bella growled under her breath and shoved her way into the kitchen in order to assess the condition of her dinnerware, amazingly, she found everything neatly washed, dried and stacked without a single scratch or crack. A hand tapped her shoulder and she soon found herself facing the dwarf with the funny hat.

"Now see lass," he motioned to her dinnerware, "nothing is harmed."

"Oh thank goodness," she adopted the fake-sweet voice she used with Lobelia and put her hand to her mouth; "If they had been damaged I would have ended up with a dwarven leather cloak."

The dwarf laughed and Bella became a little more incensed. "You planning on stealing form us lass?"

Gandalf, the meddler, who had somehow made his way into the kitchen laughed. "I believe that Bilbo was referring to skinning your lot and making you into a leather cloak," he interjected cheerfully.

The dwarf went to speak, but Bella cut him off and rounded on Gandalf before he could spout more insipid comments. "Gandalf I told you this morning that I don't use that name anymore, especially in the shire." Gandalf nodded his head, but his smirk told her that she wouldn't get her wish.

Bilbo had been the name she had used when she went on adventures as a child; when she got older and began to visit Bree she had taken the name again as to remain anonymous if anyone from the Shire came to Bree or if gossip of her trysts ever reached the Shire. Unfortunately, Gandalf wouldn't stop using it.

"I thought your name was Bella Boggins?" the dwarf with the least facial hair asked.

"It's Bella Baggins, with an 'a' not an 'o'," but her response was lost in the sea of voices. "I don't think that I could murder them all, so I better just commit suicide," she muttered under her breath.

"Bilbo," Gandalf called from the living room. Bella gritted her teeth and stomped into the living room. She was going to be the first hobbit to kill and wizard. "Is there going to be enough food for the last one?"

"The last one of what?"

"The last dwarf, of course!" Gandalf puffed on his pipe indigently.

"Thirteen dwarves?" she asked meekly. At Gandalf's grandfatherly nod she lost it. "I will NOT have it Gandalf," she stamped her foot, "Twelve dwarves have invaded my home already and I don't care to have a thirteenth."

"Now listen here lassie," the dwarf with the head tattoos growled, "ain't none of us invaded your house."

Bella stepped forward, hands on hips, ignoring the dwarf's threating demeanor, "Oh really?" she called sweetly, "because I would call barging into someone's house and plundering their pantry 'invading'."

"We were invited," one of them called out.

"Not by me." Several of the dwarves looked at Gandalf who was coincidently not meeting anyone's gaze. "And I have about had it with the lot of you coming in uninvited, destroying my reputation, tracking mud on my carpets-" Bella was cut off by a knock on the door.

"He's here."

Bella glared at Gandalf. "If you weren't sitting in my father's chair, I would poor that vintage all over you," she indicated at his wineglass. The banging grew more incessant. Bella huffed and went to the door. The dwarves followed her to the entry and stuck their heads out from the living room archway. Another bang. Bella sighed and opened the door to find a familiar face.

She had met this particular dwarf a couple years ago when she had gone to Bree for some relief form the strict shire society only to find the lad she normally monopolized during her time had become engaged to hobbit lass. Luckily for her the black haired dwarf had been sitting in the corner of her favorite tavern, one run by hobbits that catered to small folk, and had gotten the scoop from the tavern maid. His name was Thorin.

She had though at the time that the traveling blacksmith was rather handsome and as such knew his way around women. What she found out later was that whether he knew women or not he didn't know them well, as he spent most the evening in his own thoughts, leaving her unsatisfied and him well he didn't seem to care. She hadn't thought too much of it as he was well within his cups at the time, but when she came back a few months later and pursued him again she was left with the same results ,still as brooding as ever, even though it was midday so he couldn't have drunk a drop. Needless to say she no longer found herself in Bree again until he had left a little less than a year later.

So now there was an incredibly good looking dwarf in her doorway that she didn't know if she should acknowledge or not since there was a hoard of dwarfs looking on. "Gandalf, I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I wouldn't have found it if it wasn't for the mark on the door." What mark? She had just had it painted last week. Why would there be a mark on- "She looks like a grocer more than a burglar."

She couldn't help it. "And you look like you'd be great in bed, but we both know the truth," she put as much sass into it as possible, totally abandoning her fake shire-voice. She watched Thorin's mouth fall open, but purposefully ignored him. "Gandalf! What is this I hear about a mark on my door where there should be none."

The old wizard cleared his throat, "I placed a mark there to let the dwarves know where to go."

"Well luckily I still have a bit of green pain left," she pulled him down to her height with his beard, "which means that before you leave YOU can repaint it." She concluded by rapping him on the head with her knuckles.

"Bilbo," Thorin breathed looking very embarrassed.

"That is Bella Baggins to you. I hope there will be enough food for you since somebody," she glared pointedly at the dwarves huddled in the archway, "and market isn't for another three days." At least some of the dwarves had the decency to look abashed. She rounded on Thorin who was still trying to close his mouth. "Hurry up and shut the door before you ruin my reputation anymore."

He seemed to regain his ability to control his body and he reached out to shut the door. "I consorting with dwarves ruining your reputation?" he asked hotly.

"Not just consorting with dwarves, but the fact that I am an unmarried woman alone in a house with fourteen men." She tilted her chin in an attempt to look down her nose at him which didn't work because he was too damn tall.

"It didn't seem to bother you in Bree," shot at her.

"I've never been alone with 14 men, even in Bree, and I'd thank you not to imply I'm a whore," she shot back just as heated.

He stepped closer, "Then what are the stories I hear about you in Bree?"

She stepped closer as well, "I'm unmarried. What am I supposed to do?"

He got in her face, "Get married."

She got in his face, "With a misogynistic, weak hobbit from the Shire? I think not."

The sound of Gandalf clearing his throat interrupted them. "I think it is best if we leave this argument and talk of the quest."

"Gandalf if anyone right now deserves to be slapped it is you," Bella proclaimed, "As such I don't think you're in the position to make requests." "You," she pointed to Thorin, "follow me we will see if there is food for you." When he made no move to follow she grabbed him by the breastplate then pulled him to the kitchen and motioned him into a chair. "Sit down, don't talk, and don't touch anything. Don't even breathe (You don't deserve my air); I will go see if there is any food left."

She searched around for food. A roll had rolled behind a jar, there was a bit of stew left on the fire, and they hadn't discovered that the second tap by the sink wasn't for water but ale. "I'm sorry." Bella looked up from her scrutiny of the kitchen to find Thorin had moved from his seat and was now standing beside her looking a little deflated. She raised an eyebrow as if daring him to continue. Thorin took his que. "I'm sorry for the things I said earlier."

Bella pursed her lips. "I'm not."

He moved in front of her, "Admittedly you didn't say anything wrong."

Bella crossed her arms, "Go on."

"And I'm sorry that I was bad the two nights we spent together."

"So you knew, yet you did it again?"

"Who was I to say no to a pretty lady?"

Bell turned form him and brought the makeshift meal to the table, "And now you're flirting with me which is really weir considering that we were at each other's throats mere moments ago." She sat down across form his food.

"I was merely surprised."

"And incredibly cruel."

"And very sorry."

Bella sighed and took a long draw of her ale. One of the many reasons she had never gotten married was her inability to deal with feelings which there were a lot of right then. "What are all of you even here for?"

He looked surprised, "You mean you don't know."

"All I know is that my house is mess, my reputation is ruined, and I have no food."

Thorin looked uneasy, "We are here for a quest," Bella's confused look must have played out on her face for Thorin continued, "to take back our home."

"I think you better start from the beginning."

"It is a very long story and the others are waiting for us."

"They've made my evening hell. They can wait."

"It will take many hours."

Bella sat back in her chair and locked eyes with Thorin. "Perfect," she smiled.