Involuntarily, Bailey's eyes widened in fearing the worst. "Wh-who is here? He was invited as well, please tell me."
The seriousness and anticipation in Gandalf's eyes all but faded when he looked back down into hers. A soft smile formed naturally as though to ease the terror in the young hobbit''s eyes. "Yes, Bailey Baggins. There is one more to have been expected: the thirteenth member of the party."
"Oh, there are thirteen," Bailey repeated, shoulders relaxing as she hopped to her feet to answer the door. "Would it have hurt to tell me that number a bit earlier?" she mumbled to herself as she wrapped her hands about the golden knob to open the door, Gandalf stepping along behind her and ducking under the chandelier his head had nearly been victim to a collision with.
Before her and the wizard stood one more dwarf, nearly a foot taller than Bailey, who had previously stood with his head turned from the doorway before she had responded to his call. He turned calmly to face her, displaying a very stern face with bold black eyebrows, trimmed beard and long black hair, stunning sky blue eyes – like the pale shade to follow the sunrise of a cold morning – and clad in black leather and tan hide for a presumed long and laborious journey ahead. The dwarf nodded toward her as a formal greeting but spoke to Gandalf behind her. "Gandalf," he opened simply with a low, deep voice as he stepped inside – like all the others – without formal invitation, "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. Wouldn't have found it at all were it not for the mark on the door." He glanced about his surroundings in a small amount of curiosity, but his statement caught Bailey's attention above his actions.
"A mark…? What mark-that door was very recently painted-" she was soon interrupted but politely by Gandalf.
"There is a mark there now, Bailey, I…put it there myself," Gandalf answered, folding his hands over his front with suspicious nonchalance. But his back was stiff as he began the introduction. "Bailey Baggins, I would like you to meet the leader of our traveling band, Thorin Oakenshield."
The silence to otherwise surround the scene felt as though all time had stopped around Bailey. She could sense the respect from all of her other guests just by the lack of noise the moment this Thorin had come in sight.
"So," Thorin turned his gaze toward Bailey again, tossing his large, fur cloak into the ready arms of Kili, who, like many others, had gathered nearby, "This is the halfling."
Bailey opened her mouth, but knit her eyebrows at the odd wording. "I am...a halfling," she cleared her throat before continuing. "I am Bailey Baggins, sir." She added the 'sir' to assure she meant no disrespect just by clarifying her own name to him.
"Mm," Thorin nodded, eyes glancing over her briefly before shifting toward Gandalf with a trace of skepticism lit with amusement on his face.
She took the chance of him not piercing her with his gaze to breathe in and out more steadily. She could not let the stresses of the previous events from the night prevent her from acting in a business-like manner to the leader of her unwelcome visitors. Perhaps now she could ground out the sole purpose of the thirteen dwarves' arrival and – if she was lucky – compensation for the grave damages done to both her formerly stocked pantry and the previous general cleanliness and loveliness of her home.
While there was a pause between any words spoken, she thought it ought to be a good opportunity to propose they get to the business side of the visit, but the dwarven leader spoke just as she was thinking through what polite introduction to offer to the proposal.
"How much experience have you, Bailey Baggins?" Thorin asked, calmly pacing past her.
"Uh-" Bailey's eyebrows furrowed as she sought an answer to yet another odd question: she would only humor the curious dwarf as it was a more negotiable way to handle the circumstance. "I have a variety of talents, you might say," she stated to seem a competent hostess, cutting around unnecessary technicalities, such as what the talents might be.
"Do you fight?" Thorin asked before she even had a chance to say more; though, she wasn't likely to.
"Well-" Bailey paused, eyes wandering to the large sword on Thorin's belt, which he had yet to remove as the others had their weapons. "I...have hunted before," she offered vaguely, not bothering to mention she had only hunted – in fact – a total of four times in all of her life. Jumping at the chance within the brief silence, she added, "I beg your pardon, but why do you ask?" She winced at her frankness, but it seemed no ruder than his had been.
Thorin briefly glanced at Gandalf as though there was no need to answer her. "And your experience? Have you...ventured on a journey such as this before?"
Bailey chewed on her lip briefly, attempting to detain any sarcastic or rude remarks about his lack of manners. "A journey such as…what?" she asked with a click of her tongue and only a tint of impatience edging her words.
The dwarf stared at her a moment longer, before smirking a little humorlessly and turning his gaze down the hall and toward his companions. "I thought as much," he half-muttered, glancing back at his company. "More like a housewife than a burglar." The insult – though perhaps in light jest – was accompanied with an easy smirk in her direction while the other dwarves laughed behind him. With that, he strode into the dining room with his companions, likely ready for food just as the others were.
Bailey's mouth opened in faint surprise at the insulting manner, but – through clenched teeth – she willed herself to remain a decent hostess. "You must be hungry..." she called after him. "Much as your companions were," she muttered the final part in faint bitterness. Bailey merely felt like glaring after him in obvious disdain, but prevented it with the redeeming thought that she was 'better than that'.
"Ah, don't let him get to ya," the very…young? voice of Ori approached behind her, almost as though empathetic to the offended Halfling. "He doesn't mean to offend you so."
Bailey turned to face the dwarf though still unsure what exactly she was going to say in response. But no words came especially when something odd about the young dwarf's face caught her eye…the curve of both of Ori's irises, the darker eyelashes…and the lack of any facial hair at all even with how many inches taller the dwarf was than Bailey… "You," the Halfling softly gasped, shocked, relieved, and confused all at the same time.
Ori tensed considerably, though the scarf covered up to eyes and the bridge of the nose.
"You are…are you a…female?" Bailey whispered, the statement turning into a question as she leaned closer. She didn't want to be rude, but she was nearly one hundred percent certain she was correct.
Ori didn't respond immediately; a good sign the hobbit wasn't mistaken. "You…" eyes narrowing as though any words were difficult after that, Ori hesitantly answered her questions just through her next question, "You will say nothing of this, aye?"
Intrigued by the earnest desire for secrecy, Bailey paused a moment before answering. "O-of course, I didn't…" she bit her lip to prevent any further rambling, "Of course I won't."
Relieved, her feminine chestnut eyes crinkled with unspoken appreciation, and she turned to follow the others into the dining hall, leaving Bailey to gaze after in wonder.
"So..." the large, burly voiced dwarf called Dwalin addressed Thorin whilst he ate the belated dinner. "Are our brothers with us?"
At this, Thorin slowed his chewing, pausing to take a sip of the wine provided. His eyes lowered at the question, or perhaps the answer he bore to it. There was silence in anticipation for the answer, only to be disappointed by its arrival. "No," Thorin replied quietly, his jaw shifting in recalling the conference he'd attended that same day. "No, we are on our own for this quest – none of the others deemed it a worthy mission...with so high a risk."
Licking her lip in determination, Bailey slipped in between the twins Fili and Kili who had been blocking her way from Gandalf. Though the wizard was seated right beside Thorin, she hoped the dwarf would be too distracted to hear her ask her question. "What...mission are they going on, exactly, Gandalf?"
Gandalf lifted a bushy eyebrow as he refocused his distant gaze upon her, seemingly unsure of whether to smile or – strangely – view her with unusual concern. But the hobbit's wish had not been granted, as it was Thorin who, in fact, answered her question upon overhearing its whisper.
"We travel to the city of Erebor; to reclaim that which is ours..." the Dwarven prince's eyes wandered to the empty bowl before his folded arms, "That which was taken from us decades ago..."
Her face flushed at interrupting with her curiosity, but the embarrassment dispersed upon receiving an answer. "An...entire city? And just the fourteen of you are going?" she asked in subtle disbelief, but refraining her voice from any sympathetic squeaks for fear of giving the wrong impression.
Thorin pressed his palms against the surface of the table to lean back in Bailey's favorite armchair. "Thirteen dwarves and – of course – our burglar."
Instinctively reaching to take the empty dishes from the table and into her ready arms, Bailey tilted her head with polite inquisitiveness. "Your burglar?"
As if on cue, Gandalf cleared his throat very obviously, drawing Bailey's attention away from the dwarf. Thorin had opened his mouth to speak but, paying Gandalf a brief glance, closed it once more, eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
"Well you of course, Ms. Baggins!" Dori, short and stocky, gray-haired with a particularly mischievous crinkle to his eyes, offered helpfully from the other end of the table, with a big grin on his face.
Any air within Bailey's lungs all but abandoned her right then. She had suspected Gandalf of such a scheme by the peculiar arrival of the dwarves, but she had not counted on the wizard both making the decision for her and telling these dwarves about it already!
"We leave tomorrow morning," the one with a large hat, whose name still escaped her, submitted, nodding toward her to make a point. "You'll have to be ready by sunup."
"What—but you haven't even asked me!" she exclaimed, quickly growing flustered with cheeks bright as radishes, "How do you know I will accept the job?"
Thorin watched her until she finished, already prepared with his answer but allowing her to complete the thought, then turning his gaze to the presumed eldest of the dwarves present. "Balin, a contract for the halfling."
Balin straightened as though he had almost forgotten, slipping his hand within his cloak while mumbling something to the effect of, "Oh, yes, of course." It was only moments later that the white-haired dwarf approached Bailey with a gleam in his eye and a rolled up scroll in his hand. "Here is your contract; just a bit of routine, agreements and terms on the traveling expenses, food, insurance – that sort of thing."
He mumbled the explanation so fast to an already stunned Bailey that all she could manage was take the scroll in her hand and move into the next room to look it over silently, pursing her lips in determination not to lose track of the matter at hand nor how she should handle it.
As she did so, Thorin leaned in toward Gandalf. "Are you certain of this, wizard? You know that I can neither guarantee her safety..."
"Yes," Gandalf nodded, the smoke he had blown from his pipe proving as some target for his thoughtful gaze.
Thorin glanced toward the hobbit, who busied herself with overlooking the paper before her, mumbling to herself about how everything seemed to be fair and in order – hobbits couldn't help their curiosity, but could only embrace it. "Nor will I be accountable...should anything happen to her. Orcs, goblins, what have you will not care that she is female nor how helpless she will be on this journey."
Gandalf hesitated, eyes saddened by the image offered, but finally nodded once more. "Yes...I know. But you know the value of her kind; she will be unnoticed, unheard by any foe if she can merely will it to be so. Nor will Smaug smell her from a mile away, as he would a dwarf. You told me to find your fourteenth member, and Bailey Baggins is the one that I have chosen."
Exhaling deeply, almost reluctantly, the dwarven prince nodded. "Then so be it."
"'I-in case of...'" as their discussion ended, the two overheard her reading aloud a list that had caught her eyes – the 'in case of's implying any potential way that she might be killed...it appeared she had yet to catch on to that particular purpose for the list however. "'Incineration'?" she pronounced with emphasis, wide brown eyes turning to Balin questioningly.
"Well, the beast we are to face," Balin lifted a hand within his explanation. "Is the legendary Smaug...the beast who took our kingdom from us in the first place, Baggins."
"He is a dragon," the nameless dwarf added to further clarify as he stood and made his way in Bailey's direction. "Just a mere sneeze from his massive snout and you could be reduced to naught but a pile of ash, missy," he offered cheerily, as though the news were nothing to be disturbed about.
However the color in the hobbit's face vanished in an instant and her eyes grew hazy.
"You alright there, lassie?" Balin asked, watching her with a fairly softened, knowing countenance.
"I, er..." Bailey reached to brace against a wall she'd yet to realize wasn't within reach, only to find herself on wobbly legs with no support, "I can't imagine-No, I-!" the words got no farther before her body dropped like a block of gold to the carpet beneath her, all consciousness banished from her body by the fright imposing upon it.
All thirteen dwarves stared in utter surprise at the small hobbit going limp right in the middle of their pleasant conversation, unsure of how to react in that moment.
"Quite the help you were, Bofur!" Gandalf exclaimed, tapping his pipe against his hand to put it out before climbing his way to the unconscious halfling.
A soft whimper was the first sound she made, drawing the wizard's gaze from the window once again. Head lifting slowly before her eyes were even opened, Bailey soon found that to be a bad idea and merely dropped it back into the fluffy embrace of her pillow. "I fainted, didn't I?" she asked upon peeking through her eyelashes at her bedside visitor.
Gandalf smiled lightly, nodding in a chuckled response as he continued to smoke the pipe he had re-lit.
"Finally snapped," Bailey added, pursing her lips and shaking her head in shame. "I don't really fancy the imagery your friend gave me just then..."
"Yes," Gandalf nodded sympathetically, "Bofur has a tendency to let his tongue wander as a jackrabbit might about a tortoise, and failed to put your nerves into consideration."
"Yes, Bofur – that's his name – well, he and all the others, Gandalf...they expect me to be something...that I am...well, not!" Passion growing in her eyes, the hobbit soon sat up to continue. "I have never burgled-n-never stolen anything in all my life, Gandalf, and they want me to steal from a dragon now? You ought to have known simply by my eloquent speech about a hobbit's lack of adventure-er, lack of desire for adventure just this morning that I could not take them up on their offer!"
"Oh, I understand you have never been a burglar before, but that hardly implies that you are not a capable one, my dear Bailey Baggins," Gandalf expressed with an easy smile.
"Well-well," Bailey shook her head, already growing flustered once more, "Wh-wh-whether or not I would make a good one does not change the fact that...I cannot go on this journey. I simply will not and cannot sign my name upon that contract because I simply know that my place is here and not out searching for riches or adventure or anything else that that world has to offer." Along with that came a conclusive nod as she crossed her arms in a finalizing manner. That was that.
Gandalf stared a painfully long moment straight into her eyes, which avoided ever meeting his gaze. When it seemed the end to it would never come, Gandalf finally climbed to his feet. "Very well. We are heading east at first light tomorrow...should you happen to change your mind."
Bailey nodded simply, too on edge to attempt at denying that she could even reconsider when she overheard the low voices slowly and – strangely beautifully – emanating from her living room. It was singing..."What is that?" she asked nonetheless, hoping for a better explanation than she could give herself.
Gandalf's gaze wandered from the direction of the music and back to the troubled hobbit who listened with an almost serene focus to the slow, mystical sounds of the song. "The dwarves sing of the journey ahead of them...of that which they might lose...and that which they might find."
Eyes distant in wonder toward the very mystery of the tune, the hobbit said nothing more.
Slowly smiling as he read the expression upon her face, Gandalf rose to his feet once more, taking her contract from the bedside table between his fingers, and – receiving a struggling glance from the young Baggins – made his way back toward the hallway from her bedroom. "I will leave you to rest, Bailey Baggins." That was all he said before bending downward to disappear behind the small, round door.
Eyelids closing in upon her troubled brown eyes, the hobbit whimpered softly toward her difficult decision, even as she knew her answer...or at least she thought she did. But, even as her mind swam with memories of words spoken to her that night and thoughts of what her responses ought to have been or still to be, the worried halfling finally drifted into sleep, merely lying back upon her soft, embracing cushion and pillow and sliding her covers over her side. Her eyelids closed completely and her thoughts wandered away in exhaustion from matters at hand: all to the sober and solemn sound of the dwarves singing their song: the song of the journey at hand.
