'No, Gandalf, no, you can't seriously think that I would go on a blind date – a bloody blind date, mind you – with a, a . . . Didn't you say something about Erebor? That the guy couldn't speak English?! Really, have you gone mad?' Bilbo snapped, exasperated, trying to explain to that old goat, for about a hundredth time, why going on a date with a complete stranger was not a good idea. At all.

Despite Bilbo's resentment, Gandalf seemed calm, amused even, and chuckled a bit for himself. 'My dear Bilbo, please calm down. Everything is arranged, there's no way back. Thorin will arrive from a great distance and just because of you. Now you must undergo it, whether you like or not. Thorin would be greatly disappointed would you not come. And I must say that neither of us wants to see Thorin disappointed.'

Bilbo stared at him for a while, too shocked by his manners to react for a while, gaping at him like a fish, before finding his words again, and continued arguing, 'And how exactly do you expect me to communicate with him? Should I bring children's cards with pictures maybe, so we can show each other and try to guess what the other means, or perhaps I should gesticulate with all my limbs like a complete retard?!'

Gandalf gave him a tired look, like someone dealing with a very naughty and incorrigible child. Needless to say, that didn't compose Bilbo in the slightest bit. It rather increased his blood pressure. 'None of it, of course. As I have said already, I brought you a Khuzdul dictionary which will help you a lot. There's no need to act so dramatic, Bilbo, I thought you more sensible.'

'I – I act dramatic?! Gandalf, what – and why would I need a dictionary anyway? Let him take it! I never asked for any of this!'

'Thorin is a very proud man.' Gandalf finally said as if it explained everything. On the contrary, it only explained that Thorin was probably a git and it only made Bilbo feel grumpier. He found himself liking that Thorin fellow less and less. And Gandalf, too, when he was at it, never mind him being an old family friend and all.

'Like I said before, everything is arranged. Thorin is looking forward to see you. You're going to enjoy it.' Gandalf announced, giving him one last calculating look, like challenging him to say something, to do something about this tricky situation. Bilbo sighed. Well, it certainly will be adventurous and after all he loved learning new languages and – wait, no no no –

Gandalf obviously guessed the way his thoughts took, for he smiled knowingly at him, then stood up and searched for something in his grey coat. After a while he handed Bilbo down a small book – ah, the dictionary. 'So . . . How do I read these signs?' Bilbo asked confusedly after superficially listing through the first few pages. Surely Gandalf didn't expect him to be able to read this!

'Ah, don't worry, there's written how to pronounce it beneath the signs.'

Bilbo tried to say something. Gandalf laughed. This was going to be very long, indeed.

God knows what that guy is like, thought Bilbo nervously (and angrily as well) while walking on foot to the meeting point. At least a local café had been chosen, with many people (thankfully), so that Thorin or whoever wouldn't try anything . . . not very respectable. Not that Bilbo wouldn't be able to defend himself, thank you very much, but he felt safer like this anyway. If not exactly a comfortable situation should come, some screaming should do. Well, Bilbo hoped that wouldn't be necessary – after all, things like that could be really embarrassing and definitely mood-ruining. Either way, Bilbo was going to have a word or two about this with Gandalf.

After turning the last corner, Bilbo finally spotted a small coffee house, with a golden sign above the door, solemnly proclaiming Dori's Café. Bilbo had never been there before, so naturally he felt quite curious. It even got the better of his restlessness for a while. But then again he too painfully remembered the small book shoved in his bag, which was hitting his leg quite uncomfortably.

While passing by the café windows, Bilbo peeped inside and watched the customers for a while. Some of them where holding hands and gazing at each other lovingly across the table, but Bilbo had also noticed a peacefully looking pair of old ladies, sitting in the corner and eating their dessert, maybe some kind of pie . . .

He was very well aware of the fact that he must have certainly looked like an utter weirdo, staring at the people intensively from the outside, but he desperately tried to find the man, most likely alone and hopefully not creepy – he really wouldn't thank Gandalf for that – but nobody like this was to be seen. Bilbo strongly doubted one of the young boys sitting at a large table to be him.

Maybe he hadn't even bothered to come, despite Gandalf's persuasion about how the man wanted to see him. Bilbo wasn't sure whether to be angry or happy – yes, he of course spent last few hours fussing about his looks and swiftly turning the pages of his dictionary – Gandalf insisted that Bilbo should keep it – his insides clenched nervously and he feared the worst; he should have been relieved, shouldn't he? But on the other hand, had he suffered all this for nothing? And when he realized that at the moment he could have been at home and relaxing, his hands suddenly closed into fists, not very impressive but still . . .

Bilbo had had enough of meddlesome old men or mysterious missing dates! At last he decided to leave for home and with a promise of fixing himself something delicious to eat to soothe his nerves he turned sharply and bang— Bilbo's bum hurt and he was on the floor without even knowing properly how or—

Oh. Oh.

He felt suddenly very hot, looking up at a man with dark hair, shortly cut beard and like the bluest eyes Bilbo had ever seen. The man was offering Bilbo his hand with an apologetic expression after murmuring his sorry and damn, Bilbo must have been staring, because the man was coughing awkwardly now to get Bilbo's attention – not like he had to try hard to achieve that. When he pulled Bilbo again up on his legs, he noticed something on the other's shirt. And Gandalf's previous words immediately rose up in his mind.

'To recognize each other when you meet, I brought you this – fasten it to your clothes visibly, so Thorin would know it's you – I gave him one, too, of course, just like the one you have.'

Bilbo watched the thing on the man's chest more carefully – it was a small pin, a golden acorn to be exact. Just the same as the one Bilbo was wearing.