Author's Note: I should add that I am drawing from both the movie and the book and my own imagination in order to craft my story and my Bella. The differences will start to grow as we get further into the story, but I will be making use of dialogue and descriptions and time/story lines from both. In regards to the dialogue from the movies, I am indebted to the movie transcripts done by fans at site. Bella has proven a bit of a challenge because I don't think I could manage to be quite this polite. Hobbits. Really.

An Unexpected Party

Bella stared for a moment before giving herself a hard mental shake. Belladonna Baggins! Manners! The fact that her conscience spoke in her father's voice prompted her to a quick attitude adjustment. She returned his gesture with a curtsey. "Bella Baggins at yours," she offered, a little too surprised at his appearance on her doorstep to do more than the basic. He stood quite a bit taller than her, for all that she understood Dwarves to be not much taller than Hobbits. Scars and tattoos covered quite a bit of the skin she could see. That combined with the heavy fur over his shoulders and a menacing gaze made her nervous. The idea of shutting the door in his face passed through her mind.

Then he stepped past her into the entry.

Of HER smial.

"I'm sorry," she turned, her gaze following him, "but do I know you?"

"No, lass," he shrugged as he removed his cloak and hung it on a visitor's peg. His gaze seemed to take in the entire place in one sweep. Then he moved towards the dining room. "Is it down here?"

"Is what down where?" Bella felt as though she kept missing half of the conversation.

"Supper." Dwalin dropped his pack at the ground beneath his cloak, though he kept his weapons close. He took another look around and then headed further into her home, turning his head as he walked as if examining her home. "He said there'd be supper."

Suspicion began to build within her and she hurried after him. "Excuse me, but 'he' who?"

"The Wizard."

The Wizard. Bella came to an abrupt halt, the suspicion boiling over and sparking towards indignation. "The Wizard," she repeated, her voice taking on a hint of chill. He stopped, his attention refocusing on her. Something flickered in his eyes – an unease perhaps or the start of an understanding that things might not be going to plan. She lifted her eyebrows. "By the Wizard, I take it you mean Gandalf?" A slow nod gave her the answer she expected and she drew in a deep breath. "Of course it was," she muttered. Bella closed her eyes and let her breath out in a drawn out, meant to be calming manner.

Silence filled the room as she forced her temper back, determined to keep it under control. A light shuffling caught her attention and she opened her eyes to see a wary Dwarf watching her. He stilled as her gaze locked on his. "Ah…something wrong, Mistress Baggins?"

"Perhaps, but it certainly does not appear to be any fault of yours," she assured him, pleased at the new indication of more proper manners. The doubt remained clear in his expression and she rather thought he expected her to start raising a fuss. And she might have, but irritated and put out or no, she remained a Baggins. "Come along," she gestured. "You should have something to eat and then you can explain to me exactly why Gandalf directed you to my house of all places for supper."

Setting him up with food took no time at all for a Hobbit hostess. A decent meal would have been difficult, but any Hobbit could throw together a tea as quick as a wink. After all, Hobbits did tend to drop by without notice – though usually they possessed better manners and would come by during the day. Even without warning, it would occur during calling hours.

"Now, about what the Wizard told you-."

The doorbell rang again.

"Excuse me," Bella said and rushed back towards her door. Her thoughts whirled about as she tried to decide how to greet the Wizard who seemed determined to disrupt her settled life.

She pulled the door open. "So you're here at last…" Her voice trailed off as she took in her new visitor.

A second Dwarf stood there, a congenial smile curving his lips. His white beard flowed down his chest, but then flicked up at the ends. That combined with the rich fabric of his clothing gave him a courtly sort of air while the broad smile breaking over his face reminded her of her grandfather, the Old Took, when he would greet guests at his birthday parties. He spread his arms and bowed. "Balin, at your service."

"Good…ah good evening," she stammered.

"Yes, it is," he agreed even as a touch of uncertainty entered those wise eyes. "Am I late?"

Now maybe I can get some answers! "Won't you please come in?" Bella stepped back to let him enter and then she tilted her head. "Late for what, if I may ask?"

No answer appeared to be forthcoming as his gaze caught sight of Dwalin's gear hanging by itself. "Ah! I see I am one of the first of them." Bella's eyes went wide as the alarming concept of 'them' began to roll through her mind. He did not notice. "Good, good!" Then he looked beyond her shoulder and amused joy lit up his face. "Evening, brother!"

"By my beard," Dwalin huffed, though Bella thought she could see affection in that dangerous visage. "You are shorter and wider than last we met."

"Wider," Balin allowed, "But not shorter." Then he pointed at his brother. "And sharp enough for both of us." They placed hands on each other's shoulders and then smashed their foreheads together. Bella could only stare. What kind of greeting was that? She had little time to wonder as Balin turned back to her. "Mistress Baggins, might I trouble you for a mug of beer?"

"Oh!" She almost jumped as the words prompted her to remember her manners. "Of course, just a moment."

Again she prepared a plate and again she watched as a Dwarf made himself comfortable at her table. She thought she might be able to get an answer or two out of this one as he appeared less forbidding than the other, brother or no. With that thought in mind she placed a mug of beer in front of Balin as well as a second mug in front of Dwalin. "Now, if you please-."

Chimes interrupted her.

"Yavanna bless it," she muttered with a sigh of defeat.

The two brothers exchanged a glance and she turned a wary look on them, but the bell rang again before she could speak. The Hobbit gathered her patience and moved to see who now stood at her door. Between Balin's 'they' and his worry about being late for 'it' – whatever 'it' might be, her entire quest for answers seemed destined for disappointment.

When her door swung this time, she found not one, but two Dwarves waiting on her doorstep. They appeared young to her, but given how few Dwarves she had met, how could she tell?

The blond one smiled, "Fíli."

"And Kíli," came the name of the darker one.

"At your service." They finished together, in one voice like the twin Bracegirdle boys from Hardbottle.

She decided she found it charming – and amusing. "At yours," she nodded, "and your family's."

Kíli peered around her and a bright grin lit his countenance. "Dwalin and Balin beat us!" he announced to his…brother?

At least so she presumed given the limited evidence she possessed. Or rather guessed, if she were honest with herself. Dwalin and Balin rhymed and they were brothers. Why not Fíli and Kíli? She would work with that idea until someone gave her different information. "Yes, they are in the dining room."

"Let us join the throng!" Kíli walked in and began dropping packs on the floor under the cloaks. He frowned at the mud on his boots and started to scrape one on a nearby chest.

"Oh, no you don't!" Dwarves and their strange ways might be a new peculiarity to her, but Bella Baggins knew quite well how to handle a tween, and if this young Dwarf intended to act like one, then like a tween he would be treated. She moved up beside him and caught his earlobe between two fingers.

A light yank and twist drew a yelp from him. "Ouch!"

"That," she informed him as she pulled him back towards the door, "is my mother's glory box. You may clean the mud off of your boots outside, if you please, and not on my family heirlooms." Fíli laughed until she pinned him with an arch look. "That goes for you as well." She let go of the younger Dwarf's ear. "You may join your companions in the dining room when you are finished."

The two Dwarfs began muttering to each other as she turned back into the smial.

"Mahal!" Kíli hissed. "She sounds like Mother!"

"You shouldn't have started cleaning your boots inside her home," Fíli pointed out.

Bella began nodding to herself at his words only to wince at Kíli's next comment. "Who knew she would take on that way?"

"What would Mother have done?" A silence greeted Fíli's question and she had to concentrate to hear the quiet laugh before the older of the two spoke again. "That's what I thought."

The two young Dwarves entered her foyer once more, still cheery but a bit more circumspect, and she led them back to the others. Balin and Dwalin rose to greet the newcomers, each of them sharing that forehead greeting. The entire idea gave Bella a headache. The obvious affection between the four reassured her somewhat at to the people currently overtaking her home – even if some of their behavior grew more curious. (Dwalin grew yet more watchful, his eyes moving from one window to the next as if expecting to see enemies approaching through the garden.)

Again came the bell.

"Exactly how many are we expecting?" she demanded from the Dwarves at her table. They gave her looks of varying levels of concern and reluctance. Her lips pursed as her eyes narrowed, but she did not get a chance to speak before the bell rang long and hard. "Honestly!" she fussed as she stamped to the door yet another time. "One would think a Hobbit-lad were trying to pull the handle off!"

Bella yanked the door open.

Almost a double handful of Dwarves fell through the doorway. She stared down at them for a long second, listening as they grumbled and yelled at each other to "Get off!" Her eyes darted from one to the other to take count. Eight Dwarves – Eight! – pushed and shoved in a rather disorganized manner. How any of them thought to manage in such chaos escaped her. "Really," she sighed, "if this is someone's idea of a joke…."

Her voice trailed off when another figure appeared behind them. An old man – by appearance anyway – all clad in gray leaned on a long wooden staff. Bright blue eyes glinted beneath bushy eyebrows though his face remained somewhat darkened in the shade provided by the brim of his hat.

"Gandalf."

The Wizard beamed at her. "Mistress Baggins," he began.

"No. Just…stop." Bella held up one hand to prevent him from continuing. "I have…company." She fixed him with her best gimlet glare, the one she reserved for visits by Lobelia Sackville-Baggins and her sticky fingers. "I shall see to my…guests, and then you and I shall have words."

"Of course, of course." His affable agreement did nothing to soothe her concern, but the Dwarves exploded into motion as the newcomers discovered their compatriots – and the food.

The entire situation made her dizzy. Thirteen Dwarves! How, in Yavanna's name, did she end up in the position of having thirteen Dwarves show up on her doorstep? What had Gandalf told them? Her temper did not improve as she heard Gandalf muttering names as if counting to make sure everyone was present.

"Fíli, Kíli, Óin, Glóin, Dwalin, Balin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Dori, Nori, Ori."

She caught the names in an absent-minded fashion, but her attention kept getting diverted by trying to prevent the potential destruction of her property. Then Gandalf said the one thing guaranteed to catch her notice – and bring her to a complete standstill.

"We appear to be one Dwarf short."

What?!

"He is late, is all," Dwalin scoffed, his voice sounding as wary of the Wizard as she felt. "He travelled north, to a meeting with our kin. He will come."

More Dwarves? More?

They already invaded every nook and cranny of her smial!

Bella caught herself and amended the thought – they invaded every nook and cranny of the public portions of her smial. With the exception of the pantry, they were being quite good about staying out of her private rooms. Nevertheless, she considered it an invasion! They ate her food, tracked mud all over her clean floor – and the idea of walking into the bathroom quite terrified her. She held onto her proper hostess manners by her teeth and nails until she could pull Gandalf into the hallway, lecturing him in as soft a voice as her temper could manage. Then one of the younger Dwarves – and really she must get their names – asked her about his dish. Before she could so much as give him a reply, let alone handle the issue herself, it was taken out of her hands.

Her mother's best Westfarthing crockery flew through the air, juggled in time to some ridiculous little song they seemed to make up on the spot.

"Blunt the knives, bend the forks!

Smash the bottles and burn the corks!

Chip the glasses and crack the plates!

That's what Mistress Baggins hates!"

"What are you doing?" Bella demanded, her voice shrill with shock. Fury began to glitter in her eyes, but the song came to an end before she could let it loose. She forced her way into the room, pushing herself between the Dwarves.

Her dishes sat, clean and gathered, on the table in front of Gandalf.

"For goodness' sake," she huffed, not sure how to reprimand them at this point. True, they did not treat her dishes with the care they should…and yet they cleaned up after themselves in a cheerful, accepting manner.

If only some of her family showed such consideration.

She bit that thought off as well. "Now that you have eaten, amused yourselves….and cleaned up," she acknowledged, "might I be so bold as to ask why you are here?"

A heavy knock interrupted before anyone could answer.

"He's here," Gandalf announced in a heavy, solemn voice.

Now what? Bella thought, nervous anticipation crawling up her spine as her merry guests fell silent and sober expressions filled their visages. He who?

The Wizard rose and made his way to the door, opening it for the new arrival. Bella watched as a thirteenth Dwarf stepped across her threshold and greeted Gandalf. "Gandalf. I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way – twice. Wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door."

"Mark?" Indignation welled up in Bella's voice. "There's no mark on that door! It was painted a week ago!"

"There is a mark," Gandalf remarked in a reproving tone. "I put it there myself. Belladonna Baggins-."

"Bella," the Hobbit managed, though most of her attention still circled the idea that this batty Wizard had apparently been marking her door for some as yet unknown reason.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat. "Yes, Bella Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield."

Shadowed blue eyes scanned the room before meeting her gaze. "So this is the Hobbit." Now a hint of censure began to overtake the shadows as Thorin looked her up and down. A flush rose in her cheeks and though the Baggins in her forced her to bite back the retort on her lips, her Took side began to bubble up in a bid to give him a piece of her mind. Really, coming into her house and then being so… "She looks more like a grocer than a burglar."

"I beg your pardon!"

"She's a burglar if I say she's a burglar," Gandalf interrupted her rejoinder. "You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company," the Wizard continued, "and I have chosen Ms. Baggins." Bella blinked at him in shock, opening her mouth to deny any such idea when the dratted Wizard kept talking. "Hobbits walk quieter than any of the free folk and can pass unseen by most if they choose, which gives us a distinct advantage."

"What are you going on about?" she demanded, hands coming to rest on her hips. She did not like the sound of this, not one little bit.

"She's a female," one of the Dwarves behind her started and she spun around.

"Don't you start!" she told them, shaking her finger at the entire group as she could not decide who might have spoken. "That didn't seem to bother you one bit when you invaded my home without a single thought to my reputation and then proceeded to clear out my pantry. So I don't want to hear a word – not one word – out of you about me being female." All of them took a step back from her and she gave a firm nod before refocusing on the Wizard and the new Dwarf. "Now just what is going on?"

"Perhaps we could sit down and explain," Gandalf offered, a twinkle in his eyes.

Bella listened, her mind growing blank with disbelief at the story and the quest they put before her. Dragons and mountains, gold and gems…her a burglar! Somewhere, probably in Yavanna's garden, her father shook his head as her mother rolled on the grass in a fit of laughter.