Contrariwise to popular belief, Bluebell Baggins was not in fact a deranged spinster. Yes, perhaps she ran off with a troop of dwarves at the will of a wizard. And yes, maybe she faced a dragon. And of course, there might be that one time in which she fought in a war. But no, she is far from deranged; that is an argument Lunaria Baggins would fight for. For how could her sweet Aunt, whom allowed Lunaria, and her brother, entrance to her home, after the death of their parents, be anything but kind. In Lunaria's opinion Bluebell Baggins fit her namesake: constant, and kind, and full of humility. Lunaria was fully aware that horrors continued to haunt Bluebell, and had herself spent many a night listening to the tales. And what tales they were. Of kings, and dragons, and far off lands. With love, and friendship, and family. True tales that acted as children's fairytales for Lunaria's young brother, Frodo. But fairytales do not always have happy endings. Perhaps Bluebell Baggins was content with her life- raising her favourite cousin's children- but she was far from happy, contrary to the joyous facade she displayed to all. Well, that is, all but Lunaria Baggins, who (for the two years since Bluebell had returned, and had taken Lunaria and Frodo from the custody of Lobelia and Otho Sackville-Baggins) had been the one soul to see Bluebells tears, and hold her whilst she wept. For these reasons, it is understandable why Lunaria was protective in such a way, and for this you must excuse her manners at the beginning of our story, for Lunaria Baggins was simply atrocious at first impressions.
Lunaria Baggins personality has been said to be personified in her hair. The large mess of blazing curls distinctly represent her, for she truly is as fiery as the bright orange, bordering red, hair, and truly, it is said, she is as unruly as the curly mop. Far from a respectable hobbit, many speculate about the strange lass, who (although now of age) refused to court. Being a Baggins ought to make her respectable folk, they would say. Truly, all her suitors believe they could be the one to tame the wilful Baggins. They wished to be the one who 'saved' the wayward Baggins. But none of them were ever honest about it. Instead they approached her with declarations of love, and admiration. If there is one thing every hobbit knew about Lunaria Baggins, apart from her wildness, it was that she is honest. Honest to the point it was considered rude. But, for the life of her, she could not stand the snide, backhanded, pettiness, that was woven into hobbit society, so, instead, she was brutally honest. That was why, when young hobbit lads and lasses declared their undying love for her she immediately turned them away. Because she knew that if they were being honest they would admit the reasons they wished to have her hand was so that they could gloat their conquest, and raise their social standing, and because (until Frodo is old enough for his half) she was the soul heir to Bag End and all the surrounding properties owned by Bluebell Baggins. It was due to her honest mouth (and the fact the flower that was her namesake is most commonly known as such) Bluebell Baggins nicknamed her Honesty. It was that nickname which woke her early morn, in mid-Thrimidge. Oh, and what a day it was.
"Honesty?" Bluebell Baggins knocked gently upon her niece's door, "Breakfast is ready." With bleary eyes, Lunaria pulled herself from the comforting warmth of her bed, wrapping her dressing gown over her scandalously short nightgown (the skirt of which barely reached her knees).
Monotonously, Lunaria chewed her food, sitting at the dining room table with her aunt. Vividly aware that her niece was far from a morning person, Bluebell remained in a comfortable silence.
The two ladies of Bag End continued their imperious routine of cleaning, cooking, reading, mending and readying themselves for the day ahead. By happenstance, Bluebell was bathing when the knock came, leaving young Lunaria to answer the door. Such a mundane thing to do received no second thought as she pulled open the front door. A shock, however did come, as she so happened to be faced with a troop of dwarves. The surprise wore away from her quickly, as a fierce glare contorted onto her face. With anger flooding her, she flicked her wrist sharply, in an attempt to slam the door in their faces. She was thwarted by a large, heavy boot, which found its way into the doorway.
Cracking the door open, just enough to block the open gap with her body, she glared at the owner of the boot.
"Wha'd ya' wan'?" She grunted out in a low tone, hoping and praying not to gain Bluebell's attention.
The dwarrow in front of her was quite handsome she supposed, in a ruggish, middle aged way. His chin and jawline bold with pride, his brown, greying hair well past his shoulder, and his beard slightly shorter. Both his hair and beard were both filled with intricate braids, and beautifully made beads. He wore what appeared to be an unspeakable amount of layers, all of which, she was certain, were filled with weapons, to accompany the sword in his belt, and the sword strapped to his back. Piercing blue glowers at her as he stared.
"Is Mistress Baggins here?" His deep voice rumbled, commanding an answer. Lunaria scowled at him, muscles tense.
"You're not welcome here. Go away." She spat.
"You do not know who I am, so how could it be that I am not welcome?" The stranger enquired diplomatically.
"Don't need to." Lunaria bit back. Truthfully she already had a strong idea who he was, and as long as she had her way, he was not going anywhere near her aunt.
Unimpressed by the blunt hobbit, the dwarrow's expression darkened slightly, "At least allow me to introduce myself. Thorin Oakenshield, at your service." He dipped his head slightly in a bow to her. Anger flooded Luneria as she stared, unblinking at him. After several moments of silence, some of Thorin's carefully controlled patience began to slip away. "Will you not reciprocate, m'lady?" He enquired.
Her expression grew more stormy with each moment she resided in his presence. "Lunaria Baggins, not at your service." She spat. The crowded dwarves' hands automatically touched to their weapons in defence of their king. "Now," She squared her shoulders, "You are not welcome here. Leave."
"Do you know to whom you speak?" Growlsled out the tattoo covered, wall of muscles, balding dwarrow, who stood slightly behind the king.
A humourless, bitter laugh escaped Lunaria's lips, "Oh I know exactly who I'm speaking to." Lunaria's nerves and protective instinct were completely on edge, and as King Thorin took a step forward her hand reached for Sting. Remarkably quick, the tip of the blade was placed at Thorin's throat. "Now," She stepped forward, forcing him to step back, "You are not welcome here. So I suggest you take your leave."
Unluckily for Lunaria Baggins, Thorin Oakenshield was a Durin, and, if nothing else could be said about the Longbeard clan, Durins were exceedingly stubborn. "We will not be leaving until we see Bluebell." Thorin growled out, temper finally slipping.
"You've done enough already! You are not welcome here! You will not see her. I won't have you hurting her again. You have already done enough. Just leave." Lunaria commanded. Thorin, and his company, winced at her words, although Thorin also hardened his resolve.
"We shall see her." He dictated.
Gripping Sting tightly, knuckles growing white, Lunaria snarled out, "You-"
"Luna, what are you doing out here?" Bluebell Baggins' eyes flickered over the situation: her dwarves, minus a few, crowded outside her smial, her irate niece holding Sting to Thorin's neck. "Thorin." She breathed a sigh. "Let them in m'dear." She commanded. Lunaria warred between following her aunts command and protecting her. Her protective instincts won out. "Honesty." Bluebell rebuked sternly, when the sword did not lower. Glaring once more at Thorin, Lunaria slowly lowered Sting.
"I don't like you." She admitted bluntly to Thorin, "I don't think you deserve to be in my aunts presence, and I don't want you here." She graced him with another foul look, before spinning on her heel and stalking back into the smial.
It took a moment before Bluebell and their 'guests' entered. The dwarves wiped their boots upon the mat and hung their cloaks upon the hooks, before filing down the hall in pursuit of Bluebell. Tersely, they sat in the parlour, which was openly attached to the dining room, and, in turn, the kitchen. Lunaria leant against the wall, arms crossed tensely over her chest.
"I see you've met Lunaria, my niece." Bluebell approached, by way introduction, as she gestured a hand at Lunaria. "Lunaria, this is-"
"I know who they are." Lunaria angrilly interrupted. "Thorin Oakenshield and his merry little band of dwarrows." She gave them another scathing glare. "They oughtn't be here." She hissed.
"They are my friends." Bluebell told her sternly.
Lunaria gave a humourless snort, "Yeah, alright."
Bluebell sighed, "And what is that supposed to mean, Luna?"
"Nothing. It's your choice if you want to be friends with people who treat you terribly." She shrugged with fake nonchalance.
"They don't treat me terribly!" Bluebell defended.
Lunaria rolled her eyes, "He," She pointed at Thorin, "Attempted to kill you, and then banished you. They-" She waved her hand at the rest of the company, "Sent you to face a dragon alone."
"I signed a contract." Bluebell argued.
"So?" She rolled her eyes again, "Friends don't let friends walk into danger alone." The company seemed to visibly wilt with each of her words.
Bluebell sighed through her nose. "Enough, Luna." She said sternly, "Let's start this again. Perhaps you should introduce yourselves?" She smiled lightly as she urges the dwarrows.
Sharing a look, the young blonde and brunette- each adorned with many braids and beads (like all of the dwarrows crowded in the parlour)- had a silent conversation. Matching grins crawled onto their faces, as they eagerly attempted to help ease the tension.
"Fili-" The blonde began.
"And Kili-" Continued the brunette.
"At your service." They bowed simultaneously.
Lunaria raised an eyebrow sarcastically, "How long did you practice that?"
"Not very long." The brunette shrugged playfully.
"Why? Impressed, Princess?" He winked. Rolling her eyes she looked away from him, and towards the others.
"Dwalin-" The angry, tattooed dwarrow from before grunted.
"Balin-" The shortest, and oldest (his long hair and beard a shining white), dwarrow said.
"Bofur, and that's me cousin Bifur-" The dwarrow with the funny hat grinned, as he gestures the wild one, with an axe in his head.
"Dori-" A greying dwarrow, who's muscles were probably larger than Grumpy's.
"Nori-" Smirked the dwarrow next to him.
"Ori-" The last one smiled tentatively at her.
"At your service." They harmonised, with a bow.
"Lovely." Lunaria drawled, drawing out the word, although her tone was in antithesis with the word. Another tense silence filled the room for several minutes.
A small voice finally shocked them all out of the uncomfortable reverie, "What's going on?"