"You' a dwarf!"
The dwarf scrunched his brow. "Is there a problem with my being as a dwarf?" Bram gulped.
The hobbit wrestled herself up off the ground. The back of her dress was a bit dusty and her sandal had fallen off. The dwarf brushed a rosemary sprig off her shoulder. Bram shooed his hand away and tried to find her big girl words.
"I…wha-…why are you in my house? Who are you?" Bram was so flustered her cheeks got red from embarrassment. The man closed the door behind him and dropped his coat on the floor.
"I did not know Baggins was married." The dwarf walked towards the kitchen and sat down at Bram's meal. "I see I am the first to arrive."
Bram still stood at the door, contemplating what he just said. "Baggins?" Bram picked up the heavy fur coat and hung it up. Her hanger almost gave way. She spun around and faced the dwarf. "Wha-you mean Bilbo Baggins? He's nice but not marry-material. Besides, he lives more north. Also, what does Mr. Baggins need with a-a-a dirty and rude dwarf such as yourself, anyways?" Bram stomped over and grabbed her dinner. "And maybe ask, alright?"
The dwarf stood up. He was easily a head taller than Bram, which made her feel small. He said, I a low voice, "You have no right to talk to me that way. I am superior to you in all ways, my quest valiant and just. My status beyond yours and everyone's. What right have you to give me such tone?"
Bram was scared shitless, but she wanted to sound cool and not show how nervous she was. Bram replied, "I-I have every right!" The dwarf tightened his gaze. "You come into my home and demand food. I have every right to show anger!" Bram wanted to pass out right there, her knees were weak and her eyes were getting glassy. But the dwarf loosened his stance.
"Alright. Never have I had a woman stand up for her home in my presence. My company will arrive soon. Please go get Baggins and we can begin our preparations." The dwarf pulled the trout back towards him and began eating.
'Oh my god, I think I peed a little.' Bram thought. But what the dwarf said began to register in her mind.
"Baggins. What? No, I said he doesn't live here. He is in Bag End, up north past Hobbiton. You are the second person to ask for him. Well, not specifically. Gandalf the Grey came by a couple days ago asking if I knew any hobbits with no close family. Besides myself there is Hydrana down the road and Bilbo more north. You know, his great uncle-"
Suddenly, the man had spun her around from the counter from where she was standing. The knife she was holding nicked his face. "Oh geesh! I'm so sorry, I-"
His eyes locked with Bram's. "You met Gandalf? That means I am not far from my destination."
"I already said," she shook herself free. "that Bilbo Baggins is on the other side of Hobbiton!" She dampened a cloth and pressed it against his cut. He pushed it away.
"I've had worse."
Bram looked at the clock. It was almost 8. With the man still standing in front of her, she could see his face more clearly. It then clicked in her brain.
"You're a dwarf." She said out loud.
He scrunched his eyebrows in her direction. "Aye," he said. "I am Thorin, son of Thrain, King Under the Mountain." He sat back down at the table to finish the trout.
Bram turned around, rolling her eyes at the words "king" and "mountain." She resumed chopping carrots. The moon was shining through the kitchen window. It was a clear night, she could see every star in the night sky.
"Look at that moon." Bram said to Thorin. The man grunted in reply. "It looks like it's soon going to be a full moon."
A chair skidded across the floor and suddenly something was pressing against her back. She could feel his breathing on her hair and his braids tickled her ear. She was so thankful that he could not see her face right now. She was red as a beet.
"What? What day is it?" His voice made his chest vibrate on her back. She had already known this man maybe twenty minutes and she already wanted to bed him and bear all his little king babies. He pressed closer so he could get a better view from the window of the moon and stars. Bram wanted to melt into a little human-hobbit puddle.
"Um…I believe it is Tuesday. Tomorrow is another Market day in Hobbiton." Bram scooted from under the dwarf and let out a breath. The strong man pinning her against the counter was enough to make any hobbit a bit warm.
The dwarf stared at the moon. "Tueday…" he grumbled. He twisted around and made way for the door. His hand was on his coat when Bram intervened.
"No!" Bram had grabbed his arm without thinking.
"Take your filthy halfling hands off me."
The hobbit pulled her arms to her side. "I mean…don't go just yet."
Thorin raised an eyebrow at the girl. "Why?" he asked in a low voice.
Bram fumbled with her fingers. "Well…it-it-it's dark and to get to Mr. Baggins' house takes another day, past Hobbiton in West Farthing. You'd have to go over those hills and on the edge of woods and who knows what's out there."
Thorin grumbled. He slowly took his hand away from his coat. He muttered something under his breath. Bram leaned closer to hear but was pushed back by Thorin striding down the hall. He peered into a room. It was the study where Bram liked to play her viola. It was the loftiest room so she sound her instrument made was amplified and made the most beautiful sound.
"Do you know the way to Bilbo Baggins' home?"
Bram was startled. "Ye-yes!" She stammered.
"Good. Then in one weeks time you will take me to his home in…" He looked at Bram.
"Bag End." She finished for him. "And!" she added. Thorin did not turn towards her. She moved past him and motioned to another room. "I have plenty of rooms. You can choose one to stay in. But not this one." She tapped on the door closest to the kitchen. "This one is mine and I would greatly appreciate you not going in."
Thorin grunted, played with his beard braids, and sat in front of the fire. He pulled a long pipe from inside his shirt and filled it with what looked like tobacco. He lit it by tilting it into the fire. Bram opened a window then sat down to enjoy the other half of her trout.
She began to study Thorin, son of Thrain, "King Under the Mountain." She'd heard of dwarves but never had actually met one. One time she thought her mother had bedded one a long time ago. Turned out it was just a hobbit who had been sat on as a child.
From pictures she's seen, Thorin was on the more attractive side of dwarves. His face was a bit more angular, his jaw shaped by his coarse, black beard. The little braids were held by silver beads with some kind of engraving on them. On each hand, one in his lap and the other holding his pipe, had a chunky metal ring on each middle finger. His palms looked rough, as if they'd seen adventure.
Bram must have been staring for a while because when she looked back up at Thorin's face, his eyes pierced hers. Bram blushed 20 shades of red and quickly gobbled her fish. She gobbled too fast because she began to choke on a bone. Bram hit her chest and coughed up the little fish rib and heaved an exasperated breath. She looked again at the dwarf.
He was still looking at her, his eyebrows now slightly raised.
Bram stood up. "Alright, Mister Thorin. Pick any bedroom, breakfast is at 7. Should I wake you or are you able to be up by then?" Her fingers trembled. She knew she was pushing her luck with being like this with him. He merely grunted a response.
"Okay. Well, good night, Mister Thorin." She tossed her plate and cup into the sink and made a quick bee line for her room, trying along the way not to make eye contact with the dwarf.
Her hand was on the door knob when he spoke to her.
"What is your name, halfling."
Bram didn't turn her head to reply. "Bramblerose Bramble."
Thoring puffed some smoke into the fire. "Good night, Lady Bramble."
Bram slammed her door before he could see her blush for the millionth time that night.