Present: Chapter 1
"Montie! If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times, you can't simply go through Master Brandybuck's orchard and take your favorite apples home with you!" Bilbo put an exasperated hand on her hip, frowning disapprovingly at her younger sister. Montbretia tried to look well-scolded, really, she did, but all she could stare and smile at was the bit of apple pie crust clinging to the corner of her sister's frown. Bilbo sighed.
"What am I going to do with you? You remind me more and more of mother every day, Yavanna rest her soul," they both smiled sadly and fondly at the thought of their mother, who was now gone ten years this past winter; their father a few weeks after his beloved.
"Well, it seems you enjoy my antics enough, judging by how quickly my pie went," Montie gave a cheeky grin, and Bilbo couldn't help but laugh as she wiped her mouth.
"All right then, fine, I'll admit, I never could resist your pies. But can you blame me?" The younger hobbit pushed her round spectacles up the bridge of her nose, blushing.
"Care to join me outside for a smoke?" Bilbo asked, heading towards the shelf next to the fireplace, grabbing each of their pipes and snuffboxes, already knowing her sister's answer. They sat on the bench in their front yard, the last thing Bungo had made before Belladonna's illness had fully set in. They had a smoke ring competition as they always did at their mid-morning smoke, simply enjoying each other's company in silence. Montie had her eyes closed, reveling in the sunlight, when she heard Bilbo speak.
"Good morning," Bilbo, sounding more than a little confused, said to the man standing on their front walk. He was tall, even taller than the men that came from Bree to do business, and he was dressed in dingy gray from head to foot, including his long beard.
Montie ignored most of their conversation. The bearded man was giving her a headache with all his talk of what type of morning it really was. She did, however, snap to attention when he mentioned knowing Belladonna.
"You knew our mother?" she asked, immediately thirsty for knowledge. Was he one of the friends their mother had met on an adventure? Had he come to take them on one as well? The man turned, seeming to see Montie for the first time. She squinted at him again, really getting the chance to look at him. Once she noticed the tall point on the top of his hat, she couldn't help the elated squeal that erupted from her mouth.
"You're a wizard, aren't you?" Montie felt Bilbo's glare, but she ignored it in favor of the wizard's small smile. His grey eyes held a mysterious twinkle that sparked Montie's curiosity.
"Quite perceptive, Miss Baggins. Quite perceptive indeed. I am Gandalf the Gray, at your service," he gave a slight bow, which Montie returned in kind. She liked this Gandalf, she decided.
"Montie, dear, I forgot to start on the scones for tea this afternoon. Would you mind baking them? Just for today?" Montie's mouth was half open in protest when she caught the her sister's strained smile and "don't argue with me" eyes. The younger Baggins let out a heavy sigh, politely excused herself, and trotted back through the round green door. Once she heard the door shut behind her, Montie gave a deep harrumph, and stomped off towards the kitchen. Bebother and confusticate you, Bilbo, she inwardly grumbled, always making me miss out on everything interesting.
Montie went through the tasks of preparing tea on autopilot, her mind wandering to the wizard who was just outside her door. What in all of Hobbiton could he possibly want? More importantly, why didn't she get to know?
Time passed quickly as Montie stewed in her thoughts, and before she knew it, she heard the sound of the front door to the smial open and close and Bilbo calling out to her about the tea. Montie brought the tea tray and scones into their parlor, but quickly excused herself and her snack to her bedroom, where she had the full array of her mother's adventure books to do research on any gray wizard.
She poured over tales from authors of all the races for hours on end, though not a single one mentioned a Gandalf the Gray. She would have continued her search if Bilbo hadn't knocked at her door to inform her that supper was ready. Only then did Montie feel the emptiness in her stomach and notice the practically untouched tea and scone she had brought with her. Sighing in defeat, Montie rose from the floor, with an ache from sitting in the same position for so long, and ambled out towards the dining room. Bilbo was just putting the last of the dishes on the table when a loud knock sounded through the smial.
"I wonder who in Middle Earth that could be, knocking at this hour!" Bilbo huffed, causing Montie to roll her eyes. Typical Bilbo, she thought, always so concerned with propriety.
"Stay here and wait while I see who it is," Bilbo glanced at her sister warningly and promptly made her way to the front. A catlike grin found its way to Montie's face, and she slowly crept out of the dining room, peaking from behind the doorframe so Bilbo wouldn't see her. Her eyes widened when Bilbo opened the door and a massive…dwarf? brushed past the confused hobbit with a brusque: "Dwalin, at your service," and a bow. Bilbo looked as though she was about to respond (rather crossly, Montie noticed, by the frustrated frown and the crinkle in her sister's eye), but when Bilbo noticed Montie poking her head out from the dining room, she motioned her younger sister towards the hall closet, frantically mouthing for her to get inside.
When the dwarf made his way to the kitchen in search of food, Bilbo rushed Montie, shoving her not-so-gently into the closet and pushing a chair up against the doorknob to keep it closed. Montie's eyes went wide and she backed against the wall. No. No, no, no, no, NO. She hated the dark, absolutely loathed it. Ever since she came to Bag End as a fauntling, she feared absolute darkness; it made her feel suffocated, like she was drowning and unable to see the surface of the water. She grasped around blindly, praying to Yavanna that she might find the candle and matches that Bilbo kept on the shelf. After what felt like a lifetime, she found the matchbox…only by tripping over the oil lamp she was looking for.
She continued to fumble in the dark, her hands shaking all the while, until she was able to get a small flame flickering in the lamp. Her shoulders sagged in relief, and she sank down against the back wall of the closet. She put her head in her hands, trying to control her shaky breathing. She noted that her cheeks were damp from tears she didn't remember shedding. Now that Montie had her wits about her once more, she noticed crashing and banging and…singing? She scrunched her brows and marched over to press her ear to the door. Bilbo didn't sing. Ever. But the voices outside sounded distinctly male. How many more dwarves had shown up while she locked in? Did this have something to do with whatever Bilbo and Gandalf had discussed earlier? The singing ended in a fit of laughter which was punctuated by loud knock on the front door. Montie strained to hear exactly what was being said on the other side, but all she could make out were muffled sounds.
This is getting ridiculous, she thought. With her frustration at the forefront of her mind, Montie began to furiously jiggle the doorknob, hoping to dislodge the chair that held her captive. When that didn't work, she backed up to the wall, minding her oil lamp, and set herself up for a charge. She put her glasses in her waistcoat pocket, stretched her legs, and hurled herself at a spot near the doorknob. She wobbled backwards on her recovery, but quickly moved to check her progress by jimmying the door handle. Yavanna was on her side, it seemed, because the door creaked lightly as it opened to the soft glow of Bag End's front room. Montie blinked to adjust to the light and sighed contentedly, thankful to be out of the darkness. Her quick moment of reprieve was short-lived, however, when she remembered her original reason for wanting to escape the hall closet, and after straightening her waistcoat, floral skirt, and white blouse, placing her glasses back on, and running a hand haphazardly through her unkempt mop of golden locks, she crept with distinct hobbit stealth towards the doorway of the dining room.
She peaked just about half of her face around the doorframe, finally getting a look at all the dwarves assembled around her dining room table, counting thirteen in all—fourteen guests, if she included Gandalf. Her eyes wandered from dwarf to dwarf, marveling at the sight of the race she had only read about and seen in books. Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt when she spotted two younger dwarves sitting next to one another. One, a brunette, was rather tall for his race, though he seemed more youthful and carefree than the blonde sitting next to him, especially due to his lack of a beard. Montie found she couldn't quite look away from the blonde dwarf. He was smiling, laughing at something said by one of his brethren at the table, and the sight made Montie's breath hitch. He had a beautiful laugh. He, like the rest of them, was dressed in layers of furs and dark, earthy colors. She giggled a bit at his braided mustache, but marveled at the beads near the ends.
She was shaken out of her revery when the normal hum of conversation was interrupted by a deep, thunderous voice talking about Bilbo (who Montie hadn't even noticed cowering next to Gandalf). She traced the sound back to a slightly greying dark-haired dwarf, sporting ice-blue eyes and two braids on the side of his head. He looked gruff yet stately and strikingly handsome, and his voice immediately commanded his comrades' attention. It took Montie a moment of studying him to really pay attention to what he was saying.
"A burglar? She looks more like a grocer than a burglar." The condescension was clear in his voice.
"Grocer?" came Bilbo's affronted reply from next to Gandalf, and soon her voice was lost in the incessant chatter of the rest of the table. Then, Gandalf stood abruptly, startling the entirety of them with his booming voice.
"Enough!" he roared, "If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar she is! Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose, and while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of a dwarf, the scent of a hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage. Thorin Oakenshield, you asked me to find additional members for this company, and I have chosen Miss Baggins. There's a lot more to her than appearances suggest. And she's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including herself." The room fell eerily silent.
Bilbo a…burglar? Montie tried not to laugh. And what's this about a dragon? Oh, I do hate being out of the loop! When she glanced back at the company—as Gandalf called them—she noticed the dark-haired a dwarf, the one Gandalf had called Thorin, speak again.
"Give her the contract," he said sternly, and Montie watched as a dwarf with a white beard and a grandfatherly face handed her sister a long piece of parchment to read. She looked on in a combination of shock and a hint of admiration as her sister—practical, proper, homebody Bilbo—actually read this adventure contract. It was then that the gravity of the situation hit Montie like a conkers ball to the forehead. Bilbo was going on a real-life, dragon-fighting, treasure-stealing adventure. And, by the looks of it, she was going to leave Montie at home. Well, now, that simply wouldn't stand. Throwing all caution to the wind, Montie stepped out from her hiding place and into the doorway of the dining room.
"Sister dear," she called to Bilbo, grinning when she felt all the eyes in the room shift to her, "were you honestly considering taking up this little job without bringing me?" The company fell silent again, and Montie took the opportunity to gauge their expressions. She paused when her eyes reached the blonde dwarf, who was looking her up and down—not in the pervasive way that some of the local hobbit lads did, but simply examining her. He had a glint in his eye that Montie had a hard time placing.
"Montbretia Baggins!" came Bilbo's scolding voice as she marched across the room from her spot next to Gandalf, "I thought I told you to wait—"
"Bilbo," Montie silenced her sister, "you locked me in the closet. A completely dark closet, I might add." That shut Bilbo up. She put her hands on the sides of Montie's face, looking guiltily into her eyes.
"Oh, Montie, I'm—" Bilbo started, but Montie squeezed her eyes shut briefly, then opened them and smiled at her sister, letting her know that all was forgiven.
"There's another one?" one of the younger dwarves piped up, his big eyes widened in curiosity. Montie giggled. He reminded her of a young fawn.
"Hush, Ori!" the white-haired dwarf on his right whispered harshly, "where are your manners?" Now who does that sound like? Montie thought amusedly.
"Excellent that you joined us, Miss Baggins; simply excellent!" Gandalf stood, ducking past the iron chandelier and placed a friendly and on her shoulder. "Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce you to the fifteenth member of this company: Miss Montbretia Baggins." He gave her shoulder a gentle pat. Bilbo began to splutter.
"I prefer Montie; Montbretia has such a…spinster feel to it. But, all the same, I am at your service," she mimicked the greeting of the first dwarf that entered their home, giving a curtsey. Gandalf chuckled in that fatherly way of his.
"Well, then, Montie, allow me to introduce the company," he pointed to the dwarves one by one. Montie was highly amused by how they all seemed to rhyme. Oin and Gloin; Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur; Dori, Nori, and Ori; Balin and Dwalin; and Fili and Kili.
So, it's Fili then, is it? Montie thought when Gandalf introduced two of the company's youngest members. He finally came to their leader, introducing him officially as "king under the mountain." The title immediately set off alarm bells in Montie's head.
"You're going to reclaim Erebor, aren't you?" the entire room stiffened.
"How-how did you…?" the young brunette—Kili, she corrected herself—looked utterly astonished. His brother simply smiled at Montie, making her cheeks turn pink as her floral skirt. Before she could speak, however, Bilbo answered for her.
"She reads a lot of adventure books," she sounded cross, and Montie knew why before Bilbo even said it.
"Bilbo, there's no way you're going on this adventure; not without me, anyway. And besides," Montie gave her a sly look, "there's no way I'm letting the Shire's most eligible bachelorette go practically unchaperoned with a group of thirteen dwarrows." Bilbo spluttered again, her cheeks going a bright shad of red.
"I'm, well, I'm hardly a…" Montie loved getting her sister flustered; it was her favorite hobby second only to going "adventuring"—as she liked to call her traipsing around Hobbiton—and reading. Bilbo gathered her wits and continued.
"Montie, dear, I'm not even going on this 'adventure' ads you seem so fond of calling it," she said, though she went on reading the extensive contract, "I mean, can you believe this? 'The present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof, including, but not limited to…lacerations, evisceration…incineration?'" she read, growing pale.
"Aye, lass!" the dwarf with the funny hat chirped from his seat; Bofur, if Montie was correct, "Smaug'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye!" his cheerful smile meant he was only trying to be informative, but Bilbo most definitely didn't see it that way. The grandfatherly dwarf, Balin (Montie smiled at yet another correct guess at a name), glanced at Bilbo with concern.
"You all right, lassie?" he asked.
"Hmm? Oh, yes, I…I just feel a bit…" Bilbo took a calming breath, "just a bit faint." Montie's brow furrowed in concern as she moved towards her sister.
"Think furnace with wings!" Bofur called again, not helping the situation any, "A flash of light, searing pain, then puff! You're nothing more than a pile of ash!" All Bilbo managed to croak out was a "no" before she collapsed into Montie's arms.
"Bilbo!" Montie cried as her sister's limp form careened into hers, causing them both to fall to the floor.
"Oh, wonderful job, Bofur; simply excellent," Gandalf groaned. He scooped Bilbo off of Montie and quickly carried the unconscious hobbit to the living room. Montie brushed herself off, straightened her waistcoat where it was falling off her shoulder, and came face-to-face with the proffered hand of Fili, who had that amused twinkle in his eyes.
"Are you okay, Miss Baggins?" he asked, hoisting her up when she clutched his hand. She blushed a little at its warmth. "I wanted to more formally introduce myself. I am Prince Fili, son of Vili, heir of the line of Durin, at your service," he bowed low, still holding her hand but—to Montie's unprecedented (in her own opinion) disappointment—not kissing it.
Montbretia, she scolded herself, don't even go there. She noticed, at that point, they were both studying each other, and Fili had yet to let go of her hand.
"Brother, please, don't hog the beautiful maiden all to yourself," Kili playfully bumped his brother's hip with his own, shooting Montie a charming smile and causing Fili to frown slightly and release his grip on her hand. Montie was too busy blushing to notice Kili glance at his brother, who, in turn, was too busy trying not to look annoyed to notice Kili's look.
"Prince Kili at your service," Kili was more brazen then his older brother, and kissed Montie's hand as he bowed. Montie smiled at the two of them. Definitely brothers, she thought.
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintances, your majesties," she responded with a grin of her own, "and I do apologize for my sister's untimely…leave of absence." They all chuckled at that.
"Speaking of which, if you'll both excuse me, I'd like to go see how Bilbo is fairing after using me to break her fall," again they smiled, and Montie turned and sashayed out of the room, not noticing the stares of both heirs of Durin on her as she left.
"I wanted to more formally introduce myself…" Kili mocked his brother. Fili blushed slightly and slapped Kili's arm.
"It's called being polite, boulder-for-brains," Fili responded, "mother always said I was the one with the manners, anyway." Kili rolled his eyes.
"Mahal's beard, Fi, it was a joke. Besides," Kili grinned, waggling his eyebrows, "even a dwarrow with as bad of vision as Oin has hearing could see you already fancy the lass," Fili's blush grew, and Kili let out a laugh, "And, to think, mother's been trying to help you find a wife for years, and it took coming all the way out to the Shire for you to find her." Fili's face turned completely red.
Montie had just reached the doorway of the living room and paused, noticing that Gandalf was talking to Bilbo.
"What happened to that young hobbit who was always running off in search of Elves, in the woods, who would've liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire?" he asked her. Montie was shocked, she never knew that her sister had a knack for adventuring, even with the Took blood running through her veins. A frown crept her way onto her face.
If Gandalf knew Bilbo when she was younger, that must mean she stopped exploring after I came around, Montie thought, ashamed that she may've been the cause of her sister's fuddy-duddy personality.
"Did you know that your great, great, great, great uncle Bullroarer Took, was so large he could ride a real horse?" Gandalf continued. Montie was in awe.
"What about Montie, Gandalf," Bilbo said, staring at the floor, "I can't leave her here to care for Bag End on her own, nor would I ever want to put her in such perils as this adventure would bring." It was then that Gandalf motioned Montie to come in from her spot at the door, as if he'd known she'd been their all along. More than likely, he had.
"I do believe that's something I should decide for myself, Bilbo," Montie said gently, approaching her blanket-wrapped sister and cozying up to her side on the couch. It felt like they were both fauntlings again.
"Montie, we're Bagginses, we…we can't," Bilbo seemed like she was having a hard time convincing herself. She took a deep breath and looked at Gandalf.
"I'm sorry, Gandalf, but you've got the wrong hobbits." Montie stiffened, enraged. She couldn't be serious!
"Bilbo! This is the chance I've been waiting my whole for! And, from what Gandalf has said, so have you! We can't miss it!" Montie could hear the rising pitch in her voice.
"Montbretia, I said NO!" Bilbo yelled. Bilbo never yelled. Montie felt tears prick her eyes, and she pushed away from her sister and rushed out the front door, sitting on top of their smial by the open window of the kitchen. Over the sound of her quiet sobs, she caught a draft of a deep, beautiful voice that she realized could come from only one dwarf: Thorin. Soon, the other dwarves joined in.
They sang of their lost home and treasures, of the massacre and destruction left by the dragon. Montie's tears increased for them, for their sorrow and their grief. It was then she decided, whether Bilbo was going or not, Montie Baggins of Hobbiton was not missing out on this adventure.
