This story will not be my main focus, but I will try to update it as much as I can. My main is a Haikyuu fic, called Key to my Heart. I hope you enjoy my version of an extra character in the Company, but I hope this one will be different than the standard Thorin or Kili or Fili x OC. There is no slash in this fic, at least with the main character. Only hints of a future romance will be given, and only for a brief arc. Also, the ship will not be a popular or common one. After a while, it's hard to find a good romance fic between a popular character and an OC.
Ignore my rambling, let's begin the story, shall we? I do not own any rights to Tolkien's work in any way. That man was a genius! I still get lost walking in my school that I've attended for the past 5 years.
The Forochel lands of the North. A mystery, too cold and barren for anyone to live there.
Or so the Elves, Dwarves, and Men believed.
He struggled to trudge through the snow of the northern mountains. He shivered, he couldn't even imagine the icy land beyond the frozen mountains, and it was bad enough at the southern edge of the North Mountains.
He made to the meeting spot after hours of pillaging through thick snow and biting winds. Glancing around, he saw no sign of the one who was supposed to meet him.
"Gandalf, you've finally arrived," a young female voice teasingly said nearby.
The Istari turned to the source of the voice, and sure enough, he saw her. A young woman, appearing in her late teens, with long pure white hair in a high ponytail with strands loosely framing her face and emerald eyes, smirked playfully at the wizard. Rather tall for a woman, she stood at the height 5'5, and extremely pale, as all were of her kind.
"I was beginning to think you'd never turn up; what delayed you?" She asked, fully knowing the answer already.
Gandalf harrumphed indignantly. "See now child! I have not journeyed to the northwestern border of Ered Luin, sneaking past orcs and the Dwarves, to be heckled by you!"
She raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "It's my job to heckle grumpy old men; you know this."
He whacked her on the head with his staff. "Be serious! I'm quite annoyed at all the snow! Never has snow been so cold," Gandalf muttered, shaking some excess snow off his grey hat. "Only your people live past the Northern Mountains."
"Ah, there! You're wrong about that," she snickered heartily, snapping her fingers. "The four Lossoth Villages of men are only a few miles north of Ered Luin and here." She gave the Maia a wicked grin. "Maybe in your old age you've forgotten that!"
He whacked her again on the head with his staff. "Quiet, you impertinent brat! Even so, the Snow Men do not travel past your people's borders. Now shush and listen to me!"
She gingerly rubbed her head. "I'm not so certain I'm inclined to listen anymore, but go ahead and amuse me. Tarry not though, we are far too close to Carn Dûm's ruins as it is."
Gandalf pulled out a worn map, a map of the eastern side of West Middle Earth. "A certain Dwarf King has decided to try to reclaim the Mountain of Erebor. He is gathering a company of his most trusted allies to go with him, and possibly an army."
The girl's jaw was set with gravity and her eyes steel now. "Do you even know what you're asking of me?" She laughed coldly, all trace of mirth gone. "Gandalf, I don't know who you think I am, but I am no dragon slayer."
Gandalf gave her a twinkle of the eye. "Your aunt is, as is your uncle."
She did not find his comment amusing. "You know as well as I do my Aunt cannot leave the Forochel Lands, neither can my uncle. Not now at least. Tell me, why do you really want me?"
Ah. Here was the answer to the whole meeting.
"I need a guide and protector through the Misty Mountains and the Greenwood," Gandalf revealed his true intentions. "You know those mountains well, and Thranduil is on friendly terms with you."
She scoffed bitterly, a foul memory resurfacing. "Was. Before his Queen died, anyway, the answer is no, I have other, more pressing things to see to, I have no allegiance to Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain."
She made a motion to whistle into the wind.
"There is a Hobbit," Gandalf intervened before she could leave. It worked too; her fingers hovered in front of her mouth as she waited for the Wizard to continue. "I am fond of him, and he is quite the inquisitive halfling. I wish for his safety on this quest."
She paused, collecting her thoughts. Finally, she sent a harsh and sharp glance at the older man. "What's in it for me?"
Gandalf knew she would ask of this. "You would receive a portion of the treasure should Erebor be retaken from Smaug."
"I have plenty of treasure already," she countered swiftly. "That is a perilous gamble to make anyway."
"And an adventure beyond any you've had before," Gandalf added, adding a bit more sugar to the pie. "I believe this quest will make a good story, even with your ridiculously high standards."
She at long last cracked a smile, after contemplating her options for a minute or so. "You know what? I do think I'll accept your offer. My brother will have to cover my duties, but it sounds worthwhile. I could use an exciting break."
She saw the pleased smile on the Maia's lips.
"Go to the Shire, Hobbiton. Find a hobbit named Bilbo Baggins, a fortnight and two days from now. There will be a mark on the door," Gandalf instructed, already gathering his robes to leave. "Tell him I sent you, and tell him who you are. I shall see you shortly."
She laughed again, this time full of uncanny and boisterous amusement. "As will I!" She whistled piercingly loud, and soon a large white wolf bounded into sight from around the corner. With proficient agility, she swung herself onto the wolf and bounded away, tracking up puffs of snowy dust and disappearing into the frosty air.
Gandalf would never get used to the fact that she rode a white wolf the size of a horse.
Her people were strange.
Famously old and wise, but queer. And Gandalf knew they'd agree with him.
She wondered why she had agreed.
Certainly, she loved adventure, but she could only see this one as folly. Reclaim the Lonely Mountain and kill the dragon? T'was foolish and insane. She had never killed a dragon, let alone see one. Well, she had seen one, but only for a bit before it vanished back to the Withered Heath. A smile played to her lips, remembering how her Aunt and Uncle chased the cold-drake away.
She had alerted the family of her trip; most of whom were not pleased.
"Why should you concern yourself with the matters of Dwarves? Let them all burn at the hands of Smaug," Her mother had said scornfully.
Her mother had held a long distaste for Dwarves ever since the First Age. Why her mother held a deep resentment for Dwarves, it was not her place to discuss at the time.
Her brother and sister in law were both concerned that she wouldn't return, although they had reluctantly said they wouldn't interfere. Her father responded... well... as her father would. "WAHHHHH! Don't leave your old man behind!" He had wailed dramatically, clinging onto his daughter like a lifeline.
She didn't know how she managed to wriggle her way out of his arms. Her two cousins wanted her to go, to partake in a quest full of danger and adventure. She loved them like her own younger sisters since she didn't have any. Their husbands, her cousins in law, also wished her luck and fortune.
Her aunt, ah her dear aunt. Her aunt wanted to come along too, yet she knew she couldn't, as she had to stay in the North. Her uncle had also managed to persuade his wife not to go. Her aunt had a fiery temper that longed for timeless adventure and dangerous trials. In essence, her aunt was the life of the party whenever they had one.
With all of her family allowing her to go (besides her mother, but she couldn't stop her), she was ready to travel to the Shire.
She had visited the Shire many times, but none of those visits had been recent. Astride on her formidably large white wolf, she rode hard to the south. It would be a week's journey if she rode the boats down the rivers. Perhaps longer if she wished to avoid the Orcs, which she did. She didn't fear to lose her way; she had traveled these paths many times, more than most of her people did. Still, it never hurt to be cautious, especially in these times.
She had finally reached the western side of Hobbiton, mid-afternoon she presumed was the time. She rather liked the Shire. It was generally warm, sunny and full of childish color — flowers of all colors, emerald grass, a sapphire sky and rivers, and golden light. The Shire was beautiful in her opinion, a haven against the world's real cruelty and coldness. Her home was peaceful yet orcs still occasionally trespassed their borders. There were still battles fought and people to be buried. The weather was so much more beautiful in the Shire, no matter how much she loved her land. The bluish-white ice and snow had its type of appeal too, but the vibrant colors were something only the Shire had in its own way.
Gandalf had told her there would be a mark on Baggins' door. Seemed a bit rude to her to vandalize someone else's property but it would work. A more elderly, plumper Hobbit was out tending his garden, and his eyes darted suspiciously at her once he noticed her. She did look like one of the big folk.
"Good day sir Hobbit!" She called out cheerfully. "Splendid garden you have! Might I ask where Mr. Bilbo Baggins' home is?"
He still regarded her skeptically. "Down the path north."
She smiled brightly, trying to appease his heart. "Thank you, good sir!"
She called quietly for her White Wolf to emerge from the woods nearby, and the old hobbit's eyes widened in recognition and shock.
"Tis' an honor, m'lady," the hobbit now bowed his head respectfully. "It has been many a year since one of your people has ventured this far south. The Hole you seek is at the top of the hill."
She grinned childishly. "Thank you for your wondrous directions!"
She walked around the outskirts, not wanting to scare anybody with her wolf. After all, she figured not everyone would remember her people and their involvement with the Shire. She gave specific instructions to her wolf, to not come unless she called. Not yet. She did get several curious and more often, suspicious looks from other Hobbits of the area, but continued on her way. Finally, she reached the top, and sure enough, there was a small mark on the door, left by the meddlesome wizard.
"I do wonder what type of Hobbit Baggins is," she mused aloud before knocking gently.
Best play it safe.
A younger middle-aged hobbit, with curly brown hair and a pipe in his mouth, opened the door, very surprised to see one of the big folk at his door.
"May I help you?" He squeaked shyly and a bit fearfully.
Again, she smiled kindly to soothe his probably racing heart.
"Hello good Sir Baggins!" She chirped delightfully. "The name's Seiko, pleased to meet you!"
For a moment, he stood while staring at her before straightening and stuttering. "W-well umm, good day to you, M-miss Seiko. What can I help you with?"
"Oh, glad you asked!" Seiko grinned mischievously. "I need a place to stay for the night, and I've heard about the famous hospitality of Bilbo Baggins." She grinned a sun-eating grin. "A friend of mine recommended that you liked stories, and I know many stories, be they from the tongues of elves, men and the north, and a bit of Dwarven history."
Seiko mentally smirked triumphantly; she had caught his interest and curiosity.
"Well now, I can't very well turn down a polite traveler seeking a place to stay for the night," Bilbo managed to speak properly, and widened the door for her to enter.
As best as she could, she ducked down into the cozy home and took off her shoes, as it was custom for her people to do so upon entering a host's house. It was quite lovely, cluttered yet neat at the same time. Delicious scents floated from what she assumed the kitchen, and books, books of all kinds lined the shelves and walls.
Bilbo shuffled his way in front of her, gesturing towards a direction where the smells were coming from. "Afternoon tea and crumpets?"
"I can't say no to that," Seiko answered merrily, already liking this hobbit.
Quickly, he had pulled out a chair for her at the table, set a delicate and ornate white teacup, and amassed several cheese and strawberry crumpets onto a plate matching the cup. She was very impressed at his speed and detailed attention to serving guests.
"I am flattered, Mr. Baggins," Seiko praised him. "You are an excellent host with fine manners."
He bowed shallowly, a slight blush reaching his ears. "I am a Baggins of BagEnd, what type of respectable hobbit would I be if I failed to treat my guest properly? Chamomile?"
She nodded politely. "With a bit of ice and milk in mine, please."
With adept skill, he had poured her and himself tea, settling down into his chair once he fished her some ice.
"Bilbo? Who is that?" A female voice sounded from the other hall, and an average sized female hobbit emerged into view. She was fair skinned, wore a coral knee-length dress with a sage green underskirt and a white apron, and her eyes were as blue as the sea. Her hair was a pale gold-red, and strangely it was more wavy than curly. Most Hobbit lasses had rambunctious curly hair. Lastly, she was a bit slimmer than most hobbits.
"Ah-ha!" Bilbo walked forward, taking the female hobbit by her wrist and gently taking her over to Seiko. "Ms. Seiko, is that acceptable? Yes? Alright, this is my wife, Anemone Baggins. Nemo, this is a traveling guest who needed a place to stay for the night, Ms. Seiko."
Anemone looked less apprehensive and worried now that she understood the situation. "Pleased to meet you."
"As to you," Seiko gave her a warm grin, having a gut feeling she'd like this hobbit even more than Bilbo. "Although, I do believe your name was Anemone."
Anemone fondly smiled at her husband, "Nemo is just a nickname that only he uses, but you're welcome to use it as well."
Now that was a high honor in Seiko's opinion; names were something her people took sacredly, she'd try not to abuse it. Anemone pulled up a chair, and Bilbo adeptly served her some tasty tea.
"May I ask, what brings you round these parts?" Bilbo asked, taking a sip of tea. "Or rather, where might you be traveling?"
Pausing only to take a dainty sip of the fresh tea, Seiko set the cup down for a proper conversation. She supposed she must thank her mother for forcing her to take those etiquette classes. "I was first traveling south, although now my path might take me east to…. Eryn Lasgalen."
Not a complete lie, but not the whole truth either. She really didn't like lying to such a kind and welcoming host.
"Eryn Lasgalen?" The hobbit echoed back thoughtfully. "I don't believe I've heard of that place."
"Forgive me, that is the elvish term for it," Seiko replied, intentionally catching his interest. "It's also known as the Great Greenwood, where Silvan and Sindar Elves dwell, ruled by the Elvenking Thranduil."
"Elves, you say?!" Bilbo cried in great enthusiasm, before composing himself. "Excuse me, I take… great delight in learning things such as that."
Nemo merely sipped her tea with a sly hint of a smile. She could see the female hobbit was also interested in such topics yet refrained from mentioning it.
Seiko giggled, allowing for relaxing in the pleasant home. "Have no worry, I encourage learners to ask questions after questions. Ask and receive."
Bilbo only left his seat twice in the few hours they were together, once to refill the plate and once to gather a map upon her request. Even still, the conversations and questions barely slowed, Bilbo asked the majority of the questions but Nemo pitched in a few times. Curiosity from the hobbits won over their usual performance of a proper and dignified gentle-hobbit of BagEnd. Yes, she saw right through them.
"Have you ever traveled to the south, perhaps near the Horse-lands of Rohan or Gondor?"
"I have, a long time ago."
"What are the Elves like?"
"The ones in Rivendell and Lorien are fair and wise. The Woodland Elves are a bit fiercer in their reasoning."
"Where have you not traveled?"
"I've never visited the Avari Elves in the Far East, and Rhûn I have not seen. Once, I even traveled to Mordor, although I stayed for a very little time."
"Have you seen the Sea?"
"My home is near the Ocean, dear Hobbit."
"Can you speak Elvish?"
"Quenya and Sindarin. I can only read the old Teleri script."
"Have you been to any of the Dwarven lands?"
"Only a few times."
"Where do you hail from?"
At that particular question, Seiko merely smiled coyly, taking another sip. "That, I'm afraid, will have to be answered with a map."
Without any hesitation, Nemo hopped to her feet, scurrying about to locate a map. After a minute or two of searching, the hobbit returned with a wrinkled and dusty map in her hands. Obviously, no one had used it in a great deal of many years. Unrolling it, Bilbo set the map onto the wooden table. Leaning over, Seiko scanned over the images and words. It was a typical map one might have that overviewed the layout of Western Middle Earth. But her home was not typical.
"The country where I live and originate from is not on this map," Seiko said, amusedly watching Bilbo and Nemo try to figure out where she might live.
"To the Far East past Rhûn? No, no, she did mention she'd never visited the Avari, and they seem to dwell in the east. One of the ranger folk? Can't be, she wouldn't have stopped by here if she was one of the Dúnedain, they stick together. She's not an elf; she said that…" Bilbo muttered almost incomprehensively, pouring over the map.
"I don't think she's from near the Iron Hills; I believe only Dwarves live there," Nemo chipped in, peering over Bilbo's shoulder.
Seiko laughed gaily, deciding not to torment the poor hobbits any longer. "You are quite intelligent! I shall tell you, I hail from the High North, far above the Forodwaith and the Icebay of Forochel. See now! Look there, where those places are marked."
His eyes went wide in amazement. "That far north? Not even the Dúnedain travel past the North Mountains!"
"With good reason, my people have warned them not to cross our borders," Seiko said with a tad more serious tone to her voice. "Yes, I assure you, the snowy lands is where I was born and live."
Bilbo still couldn't believe Seiko had come from the high north. "But who could live there?" He asked himself incredulously. "Unless…. You're one of the…"
Seiko grinned, giving him two thumbs up. "Quite correct! Just don't tell anyone yet, our secret for now, yes?"
Like the other hobbit, Bilbo gazed at her briefly with deep respect. "I'm honored one of your people has sought a night in my humble home. But I will respect your wishes and not treat you any differently."
She appreciated that. Nemo also nodded her head with respectful enthusiasm, remembering. With a start, Bilbo finally took notice of the time.
"Good heavens, the sun is setting! Dinner must be prepared!" Bilbo shot out of his chair, bustling around his kitchen.
Seiko also rose, determined to repay the hobbit for his outstandingly gracious hospitality. Initially, they protested, saying she was a welcomed guest. However, Seiko insisted on assisting them, she refused to mooch off the hobbits, and she did genuinely want to help. Bilbo accepted her aid, and she found herself not knowing entirely how to cook in a hobbit hole.
"No, wait!" Seiko stomped her foot in aggravation. "I can figure this out!" Seiko refused to be bested by a toaster of all things.
Nemo only watched from the other side of the kitchen in utter amusement. "Do you not have toasters in the Forochel lands?"
Seiko just grunted in annoyance. "We don't often eat toast; it's quite hard to grow grain and wheat there."
In the end, the toaster won the battle, and Seiko sulked by the table, envying Nemo's mastery of that cursed object. Night had fallen, the fire crackled warmly, and the three sat to eat the tasty meal prepared by Bilbo and Nemo. Seiko's culinary skills were horrible, even among her people. She recalled her brother laughing uproariously over her failed attempt of baking a cake for her mother's birthday once.
The doorbell rang.
Seiko had the slight suspicion of who it might be, but Bilbo seemed quite perplexed. Confused, he carefully made his way to the door, opening it to reveal a burly and wild bald dwarf. Unfortunately, Seiko was right in her gut. They were in for a rough night.
"Dwalin, at your service," the dwarf gave the standard greeting, bowing his head.
At least, the usual dwarven introduction. Dwalin, she had heard that name before, many years ago. He was somehow related to Thorin Oakenshield. Now she remembered! His father was Fundin, who was slain at the Gates of Moria in the Battle of Azanulbizar. Seiko distantly recalled hearing about that Pyrrhic victory from her father.
Bilbo faltered for a moment before straightening and tying his house robe securely. "Bilbo Baggins, at yours. Do we know each other?"
The large dwarf named Dwalin pushed his way into the door, shoving his heavy overcoat onto Bilbo.
"No. Which way is it then laddie?" He gruffly asked, glancing around. "Is it down here?"
"Which way is what?" Bilbo stammered, wobbling from the sudden weight of the dwarvish garments.
Dwalin merely looked back at the hobbit as if he were an idiot. "Supper. He'd said there'd be food and lots of it."
"W-who said?"
Seiko choked on her milk chamomile tea, almost spitting it out. Oh, no…. Poor Bilbo and Nemo. She did pity the hobbit couple if what she suspected was about to happen. Dwalin entered the kitchen and finally noticed her presence, regarded her strangely.
"I'm surprised you've married a woman from the race of men, I would not have thought so," Dwalin said quite boldly.
Seiko again choked on her tea, of all the assumptions she had thought of, that was not one of them. Nemo snickered rather heartily behind her hand, although Dwalin couldn't see her from the other room. Bilbo shrieked in shock, clearly both stunned and affronted.
"D-d-dear Mr. D-D-Dwalin!" Bilbo protested, stomping his foot indignantly. "I'd appreciate if you would not make such wild accusations against other guests in my house!"
"Mr. Bilbo is correct, Sir Dwalin," Seiko agreed with the flustered hobbit. "I am merely a traveler who sought shelter for the night, and he kindly provided it for me. Lady Anemone is Mr. Baggins' wife."
Luckily, the Dwarf had some manners, as he appeared slightly ashamed and bashful of his actions. "My apologies, Master Hobbit and fair ladies."
However, it didn't take long for the incident to pass from their minds and Dwalin to begin eating. Unfortunately, it was Bilbo's meal that Dwalin's eyes fell towards. No matter how bad Seiko felt for her lovely host, Bilbo's face was priceless as he gazed longingly at his lost dinner. Seiko snickered lightly, setting aside some of her dinner to save for the hobbit. As Dwalin munched on his stolen meal, Seiko wrinkled her nose a bit. Dwarves were messy eaters, and this was only one. She shuddered, imagining the mess a whole group of Dwarves would make. Nemo was already hiding the good West Farthing wine.
"Very good this is, anymore?" Dwalin asked after ripping off the fried fish's head and devouring it.
It took a minute for Bilbo to respond, as he (reluctantly) handed a bowl of bread rolls to the large dwarf, after taking two for himself. Dwalin made no effort to eat politely, but such was the way of Dwarves.
Bilbo leaned closer to Dwalin, "It's just, um, I wasn't expecting company."
And then, the bell rang. Again. With a coy smile, Dwalin nodded his head towards the sound. "That'll be the door."
Seiko remained sitting, except she had migrated to a corner outside of the kitchen where she would not so easily seen. She'd instead not blow her cover, not just yet. Still, she could see the door from her position. Nemo joined her, not wanting to get caught up anymore Dwarven "guests." The dwarf that was on the other side of the door was a bit shorter and wider around the middle than Dwalin, and his beard was much whiter.
"Balin, at your service," this dwarf introduced himself with a hidden hint of scholarly politeness, bowing.
Seiko wondered how many other dwarves would make an appearance tonight. She guessed… at least 10. Balin made his way into the hall, Bilbo already looking thoroughly weary from the night.
"Good evening," Bilbo managed to mutter out.
Balin smiled while glancing around. "Yes, yes it is. Although I think it might rain later." He stepped inside, leaning towards Bilbo as if he was telling him some great secret. "Am I late?"
Bilbo narrowed his eyes with suspicion. "Late for what?" He stressed out, wary of any details.
Balin ignored Bilbo as he spotted Dwalin, who was fiddling with…. something. It looked like a candle holder, but she couldn't be sure. "Oh!" Balin exclaimed heartily, walking forwards. "Evening Brother."
Dwalin made a deep chuckle, setting down the object he was fiddling with, "By my beard, you're shorter and wider than last we met."
"Wider, not shorter," Balin swiftly corrected his brother. "Sharp enough for both of us."
With a grin from the two, they clasped the other's shoulder with familial affection. Seiko winced already, knowing some of the Dwarven greeting customs. Sure enough, Dwalin and Balin crashed their heads together, hard enough Seiko would have given herself a 12-month long concussion, but the brothers were go-lucky fine. Both Bilbo and Nemo were visibly shocked, and Nemo was rubbing her forehead absentmindedly even though nothing had happened to her.
As the Dwarves raided Bilbo's pantry and the hobbit was trying to tell them subtly to leave, Seiko assisted Nemo in locking up some of the older and more delicate pieces of furniture. After all, dwarves could get quite loud in meetings such as the one about to occur. Nemo already suspected and was taking precautions. The door rang once more. Bilbo trudged his way to door with dejected apprehension. Seiko had to admit, the next two dwarves that appeared on the other side of the door were much younger than she'd think would come on such a quest. She imagined they were also brothers. Bilbo didn't open the door all the way this time.
"Fili," the golden-haired one announced, "and Kili," the dark-haired brother echoed. "At your service!" They proclaimed in unison, bowing harmoniously as well.
It was rather cute.
"You must be Mr. Boggins!" Kili said with a young, cheerful grin.
"Nope!" Bilbo immediately declared and began to close the door, "You can't come in; you've come to the wrong house."
Despite the hobbit's attempts, Kili stopped the closing of the door with a shocked and depressed puppy face look. "What? Has it been canceled?"
"No one told us," Fili poked his head through while chiming in.
"C-canceled?" Bilbo sputtered out, becoming more annoyed and confused by the minute. "No, nothing's been canceled!"
"Well that's a relief," Kili breathed, his contagious smile back as he and Fili pushed themselves inside.
Fili took some of his weapons off, fancily handing them all to Bilbo. "Careful with these, I've just had them sharpened."
Nemo scurried over, despite wanting to stay out the Dwarves' way and took some of the weapons out of her husband's arms, sharing the burden. They were still wobbling a bit with all the daggers and knives from the two new dwarves. Kili had already walked around, taking in the sights.
"It's nice, this place. Did you do it yourself?" Kili asked as he scrapped his boot off on an intricately carved wooden chest.
"What? No, it's been in the family for years - That's my mother's glory box, could you please not do that?!" Bilbo would have yanked Kili's boot off himself except that he was still holding all of Fili's and Kili's weapons.
"Fili, Kili, come and give us a hand," Dwalin popped out from around the corner and guided Kili to the dining room.
Seiko herself had now emerged from the shadows, having grabbed a cleaning wipe. She hastily scrubbed off the dirt left rudely from Kili's shoe. It's been a while since I've done something like this, she thought coyly to herself.
"At least that Dwarf didn't use my glory box; I might have blown a fuse," Nemo sighed wearily, still holding some of Fili's daggers.
Seiko smirked wryly; she wouldn't have a foggiest of the idea. She wasn't looking for a husband and wasn't planning to anytime soon. The doorbell rang again, and by this point, Bilbo was increasingly fed up with all the commotion.
"No, no, NO!" He shouted irritably while shoving all the weaponry onto the floor, rather peeved at the whole situation. "There's no one home! Go away and bother somebody else! There're far too many dwarves in my dining hall as it is!" Bilbo grumbled loudly as he stomped his way towards the round door. "I-if this is some blockhead's idea of a joke, I can only say, it's in VERY poor taste!" Bilbo concluded his rant as he yanked open the door.
And then, at least seven other dwarves fell into the house, all piled on top of one another and shouting amongst themselves. Seiko crouched down to spot an elderly man with a fantastic hat and a wooden staff behind all the bodies on the floor. Apparently, Bilbo had as well, and the hobbit sighed heavily.
"Gandalf."