Nothing's changed...I still don't own the hobbit.
Thanks so much to "Smiles101" my first reviewer, your words were so sweet and totally made my day.
And Happy Mother's Day to all you mothers out there.
Billa was sitting out on her back-porch, reading the latest travel magazine. Suddenly, an elderly gentleman came through her garden door, which she could have sworn that she had locked. He was dressed in a very nice grey suit, Armani - Billa noticed, and looked up at her.
Billa taken by surprise could only manage to say, "Good morning."
"Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I like it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on," the grey stranger inquired. (Yeah, I had to get that line in)
"Why, all of them at once, I suppose," Billa said in confusion.
"Anyhow," the stranger moved on, changing the topic before Billa could quite recover from her shock. "I am looking for someonne to share in an adventure."
"An adventure," Billa repeated dumbly. "I think you've come to the wrong neighborhood. No one in this place wants to go on an adventure." Billa made a move to go inside, grabbing her pot of ice tea and shoving her magazine under one arm.
"You've changed, Billa Baggins," Gandalf said, there was a note of anger in his voice. "And not entirely for the better. What would your mother say about this?"
"How did you know my mother?" Billa was starting to feel a little suspicious that this adventure may be slightly on the shady side. A type of adventure that once upon a time (a little over ten years ago) Billa did quite often. "And do I know you?"
"You should," Gandalf's anger hadn't entirely dissipated yet. "I am Ian Gandalf."
Billa searched her mind for a memory. "Gandalf - the one with the fire works and lights, correct?" When Gandalf nodded, Billa continued. "Mom said that no one could make better distractions than you or ocme up with a better cover story."
"Well, it's nice to be remembered if only for my lightshows." Gandalf muttered sulkily to himself.
"Would you like some tea," Billa held up the pot, thinking the polite thing to do (since the man was a Took family friend) was to invite him to stay (and possibly hide the silver. After all, tempting people is so rude.)
"No, m'dear, there are arrangements I must make concerning the adventure. But, I will take you up on your offer another time." He left Billa's back yard, leaving a very confused woman in his wake.
"Humph," she snorted. "An adventure." She shook her head as she went inside. No, she wanted nothing to do with it. She had plenty of adventures when she was younger. She pushed all thoughts of Gandalf and his adventure from her mind. She and her cousins were planning on having an night in to catch up on their favorite shows and Billa still had to run by the store to pick up snacks.
By the time she got home, it was well past six. Though Billa knew that Belladonna wouldn't get off work until ten and was going to pick up Bonny after that. Still, Billa liked being prepared and so she started setting up. She dumped the chips and pretzels into bowls, arranged the cookies on platters, and cooked the frozen foods. Looking at the array of french-fries, chicken fingers and pizza bites that were slowly cooking in the oven she decided to add some vegetables and fruit to the arrangement. She peeled the carrots and cut them up, arranging them around a bowl of dip along with broccoli, celery, and snap peas. She cut the apples, pears and oranges mixing them into a fruit salad then added a mixture of different berries.
"This food's going to last us for weeks," Billa laughed to herself as she arranged the food on the dining room table. She was starting the TiVo for the shows the girls were going to watch, when the door bell rang. Billa thought about not answering it, having not invited anyone over nor expecting anyone, but good manners won out in the end. After all, she did keep a tazer right next to her front door, in case she ever needed. Billa would never be able to say who she expected to see when she answered the door, but she could say that it was not who was on the other side of the door.
A huge man stood in the walk way. He was bald and his scalp was covered in tattoos. He had a large dark brown mustache and beard. The next words out of his mouth were even more of a surprise. "Dwalin, at your service." He paired it with a head nod.
"Billa Baggins, at yours," so taken aback was she, that Billa didn't pause to think that maybe servicing herself to this man might not be the best idea.
"Where's the food," he said as he walked past her. "He said there'd be food." Billa shut the door in a surprised sort of stupor and followed the black leather clad man - Dwalin, Billa reminded herself - into her kitchen. He sat down at the dining room table, in front of the platter with the chicken fingers.
"This'll do for now," he said, in his gruff voice. "But there'd better be more.'
"More, why more?" Billa asked. Before the man could respond, the door bell rang again. Billa just stood there in shock before the man said, "You'd better get that." Billa nodded dumbly and made her way to her front door.
Whereas Dwalin looked part of a motorcycle gang, the man on the other side of the door looked like a kindly Santa Claus. He had a lot of white hair that went into his own beard and mustache. He was only a bit over weight and was even wearing a red shirt. "Balin, at your service." He too do the head nod. A girl can get used to this, a tiny part of Billa's brain said.
"Billa Baggins, at yours." Billa shut the door behind him and followed Balin to her kitchen. When Dwalin saw him, he got up and approached Balin in a very threatening manner, or at least in Billa's mind it was threatening. She was suddenly filled with horrid visions of a gang war happening right in her dining room. These visions only intensified when Balin and Dwalin butted heads with a force that made Billa cringe and feel the makings of a headache, though the two men didn't seem to be bothered by it.
As she was waiting for the two to pull out weapons on each other, she heard the word brother right as the door bell chimed again. Assuming it was safe to leave them, Billa went to the door. This time when she opened it there were two young - and admittedly quite handsome - men.
"Fili-" this was said by the blonde.
"-And-" both men said this.
"Kili-" the brunette said.
"At your service." They said it in perfect unison, as if they had practiced it.
"And you must be Miss Boggins," Kili said, his dark eyes sparkling in Billa's direction.
"It's Baggins," Billa corrected. "And I'm sorry, but you have the wrong house." She wanted no more men, handsome or otherwise, in her home, she started to close the door, but Kili's foot was in the way. She just barely resisted stomping on it.
"Has it been cancelled," the blonde - Fili - asked worriedly. He had golden brown hair, slicked back and just a hint of a golden five o'clock shadow on his faces, and blue-green eyes.
"No one told us," Kili muttered. His dark brown, almost black, hung down in wavy strands around his face, just brushing his shoulders.
"No, nothing's been cancelled," Billa said. Kili cut in with a "good" before Billa could continue to say that nothing had been planned in the first place. Both walked right in to her house, ignoring her.
Billa hurried to keep up with their long strides as they followed the sound of Balin and Dwalin's conversation. The brothers, or at least Billa assumed that they were brothers due to the similarity of facial features, sat themselves down at the table and dug in with a gusto that even Belladonna wouldn't have been able to match.
"I think that we're going to need some more food, Miss Boggins," Kili said. "The others will be here soon."
"It's Baggins," Billa corrected. "And what do you mean by others? I never expected you in the first place." At this moment, the door bell rang for the fourth time that night. This time, however, it rang with an added intensity, as if someone was leaning on the doorbell.
Billa stomped to the door, meaning to send whoever it was away and throw the four men in her dining room out as well. Her blue eyes flashed with unconcealed fury. She threw open the door, only to be fallen on by eight men, crushed as she was under them she only managed to get a glimpse of the grey suited man standing in the back, not even bothering to conceal his laughter.
"Get up, gentlemen." Gandalf instructed. "You don't want to crush your hostess, do you?" Hearing Gandalf's words, the eight men all jumped up as quickly as they could, apologizing profusely. Billa laid on the floor, in a stunned silence, and was only able to nod in answer.
"Get along into to the kitchen," Gandalf instructed them. "I will deal with Miss Baggins." The men gladly left the frozen young woman on the floor who looked rather pale to Gandalf's care. (They were also eager to get to the food.)
"Up now, Billa," Gandalf coaxed her. Her blue eyes slowly focused on the man in front of her. The anger suddenly reappeared in her gaze.
"What were you thinking?" she demanded. "Bringing these strange men here. What will my neighbors think?"
"I daresay that it doesn't matter what the neighbors think." Gandalf said calmly. "It never mattered to you before."
"I was a child then." Billa protested. Gandalf refrained from telling her that at to him, she still was a child. A child who needed to fly the nest.
"Come on," he said. "Let's see to your guests "
"Your guests," Billa muttered darkly.
Gandalf continued as if he had never been interrupted. "Then we can talk about the adventure."
Billa nearly groaned at the state of her kitchen. All the cabinet doors were thrown open as was the door to the pantry. The refrigerator and freezer were both open and the men had formed a sort of human chain, passing the food to the table. The fattest man - Bombur, Billa remembered he'd been called - was preparing something on her oven. She made a move to stop this, but instead sat off to the side, remembering how clean and orderly her kitchen had been not more than half an hour again.
She sat there as the twelve men and Gandalf sat at the table and dug into the food - pizzas, a roast chicken she had picked up for tomorrow's dinner, steak, fish, and just about the entire contents of her pantry - in an entirely disgusting manner. Someone had shoved a plate piled high with food into her hands - Billa thought it was the nice one with the hat - but she couldn't bring herself to eat anything.
Finally, the dinner party came to an end. A good thing to, the feelings inside Billa were getting ready to burst as she watched the men mess up her kitchen, sit at her dining room table, eating her food when she had never even invited them in. The shiest of the bunch, - Ori was how Gandalf had introduced him - came up to her with his plate and asked where he should put it.
Even as Billa reached out to get the plate, the golden haired man (the only blonde in the entire group it seemed) took it from Ori and then, (to Billa's horror) tossed it to his brother. Tossed it. Billa nearly fainted right then and there. (Those plates had been Baggins' family heirlooms for as long as she could remember. It was the only set of china plates like those. And she had never broken one.) But, even as her mouth fell open in a gape, Kili tossed it to another dwarf before catching the one that Fili had just thrown to him.
From her dining room, through the hall, and into the kitchen the men started lining up. Through this human chain, Billa's plates were tossed and chucked to the next man until reaching the kitchen. Some of them, even bumped them off their elbows or their heads! Billa felt like she was going into cardiac arrest as she watched the priceless dishes soar through the air. Then, when she tried to say something to stop them, the men started singing. Singing. It was a horrible (at least in Billa's mind) little ditty, making fun of her worry about her dishes. As the final plate left the dining room, Billa started the journey to her kitchen, mentally preparing herself to see shards of china everywhere. However, upon reaching it, she was stunned to see that not one of her dishes was broken and that they were all washed and dried, sitting in neat piles waiting to be put away.
She sagged against the doorway in relief. Thirteen grinning faces stared back at her. Obviously amused by something. Billa couldn't imagine what. There was nothing funny going on, or at least in her mind there wasn't. The grins faded though, when there was a knock on her door.
"He's here," Gandalf said, in a tone of voice that Billa definitely did not like. Though, she couldn't say why exactly she felt that way. Gandalf nodded to her, clearly motioning for her to get the door. Billa bit back a sarcastic retort and made her way to the door, as there was another pound against the wood. Huffing, Billa prepared to give "He" a piece of her mind. He didn't have to pound on the door like that. How rude.
She opened the door and a smart rap landed on her forehead. Billa grabbed her head, groaning in pain. A pair of steel blue eyes met her own bright blue ones. They widened when the man realized what exactly he had knocked.
"Please," Billa said through gritted teeth. "Come in." The man's cheeks flushed as he entered her house.
"Thorin Oakensheild, at your service. Please accept my humble apologies," his rolling Northern England accent combined with the way he very nearly bowed to her (his nod went much further down then the any of the other men's) very nearly made Billa melt inside. She would have, in fact, if the man's fists had not just slammed into her forehead.
She settled for a glare and a "Thank you." She assumed it wasn't the right language, but she'd be damned if she said "Billa Baggins, at yours" to the man who had just...just... assaulted her. That's right. He assaulted her.
"Ah, Thorin," Gandalf said, perhaps picking up on Billa's train of thought. "Please, come into the kitchen. We have much to talk about. Billa, if you could get something for our leader to eat, I would be most grateful."
Billa would have said something if she could have managed to speak and if Gandalf hadn't been giving her a look clearly saying "please don't do anything". Billa forced a smile on her face and led Thorin to the dining room before she went to the kitchen. She threw some of the leftovers (of which there were barely any) onto a plate and heated it up. Looking at it, she realized how disgusting it looked and realized that she couldn't, in good conscience, serve this to a human being.
Sighing, she reached into the very back of the refrigerator and pulled out the leftover vodka-cream-pasta that the girls had had previously in the week. (An amazing dish by the way - I strongly suggest that everyone tries it.) She had succeeded in not only hiding it from Belladonna, but her impromptu dinner guests as well. As it heated up, she also made a couple pieces of garlic bread.
While she was still in the kitchen, she heard Thorin's rolling accent and a chorus of cheers from the others. When she re-entered the dining room, all of the men were hunched over plans and blueprints. She put the dish down in front of Thorin (perhaps a bit more forcefully than necessary) and went to leave.
"Billa, tell me what you can about this safe," Gandalf called her over. She looked at a picture of the safe that Gandalf held up for her. She flipped through the other pictures, and even a plan of the safe. Gandalf held up a hand for silence when it looked like Thorin was about to object.
"It's a beauty, for one thing." she told the elderly men. "It has plates in it that sense vibrations and heat. If these plates sense one of these things, they'll trigger an explosive. If you try to move it, it blows up. If you use a blow torch on it, it will blow up. The same thing with the key code. You see how it has both a key hole and the electronic keyboard." She showed the picture to Gandalf and Thorin, pointing out what she was talking about. "The wrong key will trigger the explosives." She noticed Thorin gripping a key in his hand. "Even if you have the right key, you'll have to know the correct password or else, -"
"Let me guess," Kili's hand shot up. Billa looked at him, which he took as permission. "The safe goes boom."
"That's what happens."
"Could it be cracked?" Gandalf asked.
Billa appraised the pictures again. "You'd need an excellent safe-cracker. An expert. Anyone less would destroy the safe, everything in it, probably himself and whatever's around him. Depending on the amount of explosives hooked up to the safe, it could take out an entire building. But yes, it could be cracked. Just remember. You'll need a very good safe cracker."
"And are you," Oin asked.
"Am I what," Billa was feeling very bad about what was happening.
"She said she's an expert," Oin continued.
"Oh, no," Billa shook her head. "I haven't even opened a safe in over ten years, Gandalf. I don't have one in my house. I haven't stolen anything in a decade. And I'm quite happy where I am. I don't want to go back to that life."
"You once loved that life," Gandalf shot back at her. The others now watching what was looking to be a very interesting match. None had really suspected that their young hostess was - or had been at any point - a thief. But, now, she was proclaiming that she used to crack safes.
"I didn't know any better." Billa protested.
At that moment, the front door opened and everyone became silent. Billa was pouting in a way, and the others weren't expecting anyone.
"Hey, Billa," a cheerful voice called out. "I brought the tequila...and Bonny. But mostly the tequi-" the newcomer entered the dining room and saw the thirteen men. Chocolate brown eyes in a pale face framed by neon green shoulder length hair stared at the men in confusion, "-la."
So, what did everyone think. I'll describe the other's later in more detail, promise. But, Fili looks more like Dean O'Gorman than a dwarf, and Kili looks pretty much like Kili.