A/N: Since my prologue didn't give a whole lot, I decided to throw up a second chapter today to get things started. Thanks for reading, reviews are lovely, and I hope you enjoy. :)
25 years later, S.R.1341
Looking up with surprise as what could only have been his own smoking ring turned about and smacked up in the face, Bilbo Baggins gazed hesitantly at the man in grey before him. "Good morning?"
"What do you mean? Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?"
Gaping slightly as his quite settled, quite comfortable mind attempted to process what had just been said, Bilbo finally answered with, "All of them at once, I suppose."
He was answered only with a low "Hmmmm."
Memory searching for some inkling as to who this figure was—something told him he really should know with the tall hat, long beard, and billowing grey robes—he attempted politeness, "Umm, can I help you?"
"That remains to be seen… I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure." The last word hung on the air for a moment, as if unsure whether it would be welcomed or shunned in its speaker's company. For that moment, the speaker was unsure whether Bilbo had suddenly forgotten how to breathe.
"An…an adventure?" Bucking up, a bit of a haughty smirk upon his face, the hobbit replied, "Now, I don't suppose anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures. Nasty, disturbing…uncomfortable things."
As the conversation had begun to take a rather unexpected turn—something Bilbo was unfortunately used to but quite unhappy with—he stood and made himself appear busy, hoping that perhaps this large grey man would go away, the ghastly idea of adventures gone from his head…and hopefully his own because for a split second, he'd been inexplicably tempted to blurt out yes. Gathering his mail from the round mailbox and sifting through it diligently, he added, "Make you late for dinner."
Making a few noises he really couldn't explain while he erratically sucked on his pipe, Bilbo began to back up as the man continued to loom. "Well, good morning."
Just as he had made it to his stairs, the grey man's words hit him with far more force than previously, "To think that I would live to be 'good morning'ed by Belladonna Took's son and Anna Gamgee's favorite cousin as if I were selling buttons at the door!"
Jolting not only at the naming of his mother but also at that particular name for his cousin Poppy, Bilbo turned, "I beg your pardon!"
"You've changed, Bilbo Baggins, and not entirely for the better. I do hope little Anna has not."
"She's not Anna anymore!" The tall wizard took a small step back at the protective venom in the shorter being's voice. Letting out a curt breath, recovering from his unintended snapping, Bilbo tried to remain polite, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"
Sighing, more than one of his fears confirmed, the man replied, "You know my name but you don't remember that I belong to it… I'm Gandalf and Gandalf means me!"
His memory all but kicking him, Bilbo lightened, "Not Gandalf who had such wonderful fireworks! I remember the Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve." His memory also whispered to him that he had been particularly fond of Gandalf and his stories, not just his fireworks. So had Poppy…
The wizard had puffed with a pleasure at the flattery of his work, but his face quickly fell as Bilbo commented dryly, "I had no idea you were still in business." He wanted the wizard to go away, especially before Poppy returned. She didn't need any more adventures. He'd only just gotten her home two years prior. She needed to relax, to settle, not bring back memories of her childhood of hanging upon every glorious word of the wizard's tales. At least, he sincerely hoped that was what she needed, because if it wasn't he had no idea what he was doing.
"And where else should I be?" Gandalf queried harshly, ending his companion's thoughts. Taken aback, Bilbo gaped yet again for a few moments. Just as he had prepared himself to speak again, the wizard beat him to it. "Well, I'm pleased to learn that you remember something about me, even if it is just my fireworks. Well, that's decided. It'll be very good for you! …And most amusing for me. I shall inform the others."
A tad bit of shock setting in, Bilbo jumped in surprise. Taking his pipe and gesturing with it as he retreated to the large newly-painted green door, he stuttered out, "No! No, we don't want any adventure here. Not today, not tomorrow. I suggest you try over the Hill or…past the water. Just… Good morning." With that, the hobbit stepped over the ledge and shut the door behind him, letting out a sigh of relief as he leaned back against it; he was in here, the wizard out there.
Wizard… He locked it for good measure.
Suddenly, an odd scraping sound on the door reached his ears. Wondering what on earth it could be, he knelt down a bit to hear. It disappeared almost immediately. Frowning, he stood and went to peek out the window. He was unexpectedly greeted with one large, discerning grey eye. Heart jumping out of his chest, Bilbo scrambled out of view.
Muttering to himself as he turned, Gandalf ambled down the steps and to the gate.
"Master Gandalf…?"
Though he recognized it immediately, there was an odd hesitance to the feminine voice addressing him that almost made the wizard question his memory. Could such a mouse of a voice really have come from the inquisitive, audacious girl he thought it belonged to? Though he had heard what happened, through the most unlikely of sources, too, he had hoped that she would not have changed. He hoped that her spirit would have endured.
Looking up from beneath the rim of his hat, he saw that his memory served him well. Though grown up, the hobbit lass before him had the same dark hair, the same caring blue eyes, and the same face that looked so like her mother's. Smiling fondly, he nodded, "Though there's been a bit of argument about it this morning, yes, it's me."
Smiling in return, what looked incredibly like tears in her eyes, she dropped her packages and walking stick and ran to him like she had as a child, not another word or care about 'polite society' in her mind. There was the spirit he knew. Perhaps it had only been hidden, not stamped out. Gandalf only just knelt in time to return her hug, "It's been far too long, Miss Gamgee."
Laughing with a nod, she agreed in the same small volume he wasn't used to, "Yes it has. It's still Anna to my friends, though, Gandalf." When the old man's eyes flicked back toward Bag End, she commented evasively, knowing how her cousin would have reacted to someone using that name, "Bilbo isn't my friend. He's my incorrigible big cousin."
Chuckling at her joke, Gandalf decided not to poke further into Bilbo's prior comment. After a few moments, she released her hold and gathered up her packages from what looked like the butcher and her dark wood walking stick that stood a few inches taller than her. The wizard couldn't help but feel as if she deflated a bit even as he watched her. True, she was thin for a hobbit, but that wasn't entirely it. She just seemed…smaller than when she was a child, as if she were being invisibly weighted down from above. The brightness had been hidden away under the strain.
Breaking his deep thoughts, she asked softly, "Are you staying for luncheon? Bilbo won't have eaten without me. You're welcome to come in."
Looking to the door once again with a glance as sly as hers, he shook his head, "Unfortunately, I cannot at the moment, my dear." He straightened, adjusting his hat and getting a more appropriate walking grip upon his staff. Noticing the distressed look in her eyes, he continued, "But I will be back tonight and I promise there will be a story to be heard."
Brightening, excitement creasing her features in a way that said they hadn't gotten the chance to take on such a nice expression in a long time, she queried as she approached the gate, "Shall I make you anything special? I've plenty of time."
"I trust anything you wish to make. Although, a large bit of it and a healthy serving of biscuits would probably be for the best." Blue eyes narrowing slightly, a small smirk appeared on her lips though she stayed silent. "And Anna, perhaps you won't mention this to Bilbo."
Her answer came in the form of a smile that only truly made it to her sparkling eyes. Winking at her, he then turned and began down the road. Looking after him for a moment, Poppy turned and made her way through the gate and up the stairs. She had just reached her free hand out to the knob when she noticed an odd marking on the bottom right part of the door. Vaguely recognizing it as a Dwarf rune from some book she'd read at some point, she glanced back down the path.
Gandalf was up to something and she was rather sure that Bilbo wasn't going to like however he was involved…
Deciding not to mention the mark, she quietly opened the door and slipped inside the home she shared with her cousin. Walking toward the kitchen, she smiled at seeing him, "I'm going to make some stew and biscuits after lunch. Perhaps some lemon and seed muffins, too. Do you want to help?"
Looking almost flustered at the brightness of her mood, Bilbo gaped for a moment, "Of-of course. I thought we were going to have fish tonight, though."
"We are, if you still want. I'll just start it simmering. The muffins can be for breakfast."
"Very well. I-I'll get the stewpot."
Beaming at him, she nodded as she began putting away their groceries, "Excellent."
Once again comfortable in his patchwork dressing gown, Bilbo scooped his fish from the frying pan and sat down to eat, delicately placing his napkin under his collar, unconsciously glancing at the door to make sure Poppy was not there. She despised the habit and never failed to look at him with a raised eyebrow. Part of him always made sure he did it anyway when she was around, wanting to see the teasing spirit he loved about his cousin.
She was currently in her bedroom a few doors down, right next to the pantry. When she had first returned, she'd requested that room, although he'd tried to give her the grand guest room. She insisted on the one deeper in the house, saying it always smelled of lovely bread.
After a full afternoon of baking and, surprisingly enough, good, full conversation, she had given him a smile, hug, and said she was going to take a short nap. He could go ahead and eat without her. She'd had her fill in 'taste-checking' all that they'd made. He had acquiesced, sitting down in his study with a book before then readying his single dinner.
As always, she had quietly requested, "Wake me if anything interesting happens." There had been a sparkle in her eye at that and he was completely lost as to what its source could be. Too pleased it existed to wonder too long about its origin, Bilbo had smiled and nodded as she closed her door.
Happily enough, the odd encounter with Gandalf that morning had basically left his mind. He was far too happy with the time he'd spent with Poppy. She was slowly coming out again, though he noted it was only ever to him. But, progress was progress.
Just as he was about to take his first lovely bite of his fish, the bell rang. Frowning, he rose, wondering who would be so rude as to unexpectedly visit at this hour of supper. Likely a Sackville-Baggins. Opening the door and finding the figure standing before it, Bilbo quite lost his voice for a long moment.
Before him was an abnormally tall dwarf with a balding head that was covered in tattoos and ears that held multiple earrings. And, if Bilbo was not mistaken, his hands were covered with odd metal…gloves of some kind. Looking down at him with clear disbelief, the dwarf said solemnly as he bowed, "Dwalin, at your service."
Gathering his wits, Bilbo quickly tied his robe together, "Bilbo Baggins, at yours." Without another word spoken, no invitation at all, the dwarf started forward and pushed past him into his foyer. Stuttering, the hobbit questioned, "I-I'm sorry, do we know each other."
"No," the dwarf—'Dwalin'—answered immediately, a strong tone of irritation in his brogue. "Which way, laddie? Is it down here then?" he queried as he removed his traveling cloak and promptly tossed it at Bilbo.
"I-Is what down there?"
"Supper. He said there'd be food and lots of it." Without waiting for an answer the dwarf presumably followed his nose to the kitchen , leaving Bilbo to hastily hang the cloak, close the door, and scamper after him.
"He-He said? Who said?"
Bilbo soon found himself sitting awkwardly by as Dwalin sat down to his table and ate his way rather quickly through his fish and vegetables. After handing the dwarf a bowl of biscuits—only a small portion of the oddly large number Poppy had made earlier—he finally got up the gumption to comment, "Mmmm, it's just that ummm, I wasn't expecting company."
As soon as the word was out of his mouth, the doorbell chimed merrily. A smug kind of smile on his face, Dwalin merely stated, "That'll be the door."
Within half an hour, Bag End had been positively overrun with dwarves! While all were 'at his service,' Bilbo had yet to find them helpful in the slightest.
He was quite beside himself, attempting in a growing panic to save as many of his belongings and as much of his food as he could. Gandalf, that ruddy trickster, merely strode about, greeting and counting without a word as to why they were all in his home. Bilbo was just attempting to take back an antique chair from a dwarf with an axe imbedded in his forehead, when he vaguely heard one of them ask, "Where's the next pantry? This one's empty."
The hobbit had run off to save another piece of furniture and failed to hear the reply. "I'll try over here," the gigantic one named Bombur suggested. He ventured off on his own with Fili in his wake to the door next to the pantry. Logically thinking, that would be the obvious place to look…
Poppy was sleeping quite heavily as she always tended to when inside. The instinct she'd acquired that woke her at the slightest noise decided to sleep as well when she was indoors it appeared. Before falling asleep, she'd been reading a book, taking up residence in the armchair right next to the door, hoping she'd be able to wake upon hearing Gandalf arrive. Her staff in hand, as it always was when there was the strong possibility of falling asleep, she had dozed out of consciousness.
Poppy was brought abruptly back to the land of the wakeful when her door opened and a gigantic red-haired dwarf appeared in her vision. In its shocked state, her mind only realized that the figure was not her cousin and reacted accordingly. Before she quite realized what was before her, she bolted upright and swung her staff in exceptionally quick succession first into his stomach, flicked it up to crack against his temple, and then down to the back of his knees.
The figure let out a deep, shocked moan, his eyes beginning to roll back into his head at the force of the blow to the one soft spot on a dwarf's head.
Squeaking in horror at what she'd just done, Poppy leapt from her place as the now incredibly dazed dwarf rocked dangerously forward. Heaving mightily under one of his shoulders, she managed to keep the enormous dwarf upright. She held onto him under that one shoulder, given she couldn't really reach higher and he was far too thick for her to even reach completely around him. He groaned in pain again and raised a portly hand to his head, still addled. Wincing at the pain she must have inflicted upon an innocent someone who could only be there at Gandalf's behest, meaning he was likely quite a good person, she slowly turned the dwarf about to walk him toward the absolute din of noise she now heard.
After a few steps of staring at the floor and trying not to think about how the dwarf's weight made her feel like she was becoming much shorter, two boots entered her vision, making her squeak yet again. She shot her eyes upward to find a shocked male face staring at her, his position perfectly acceptable for having seen everything she'd just done. Well…that face wasn't Bilbo, either.
Gathering her voice, Poppy called accusingly with a pant before the blonde dwarf before her could speak, "BILBO!"
The din disappeared immediately and the thumping of what could only be a very large number of feet racing toward her and her victim could be heard. Quite suddenly, she was confronted with twelve pairs of shocked eyes and one amused grey pair under a set of raised bushy eyebrows.
Her dwarf swayed dangerously again, trying and failing to find his feet. Panting, Poppy hauled harder on his arm, "Oh no!"
At her words, the blonde dwarf sprang into action and took the rotund dwarf's other arm and most of his weight, though the task seemed to be a heavy one for him as well. She let out a deep breath as she could breathe again. The silence remained for another moment until the large dwarf asked dizzily, "What…happened?"
Stifling a laugh, having recovered from his surprise, the blonde dwarf replied, "I don't think that was the second pantry, Bombur. The lass took you out with a blooming walking stick."
The dwarves all then erupted into laughter. Swatting Bilbo's arm, making the hobbit stagger, Dwalin queried, "So who's the bonny lass, Mr. Baggins?"
As Bilbo's mouth opened and closed rapidly like a fish's, Gandalf stepped forward with a smile, "This, gentlemen, is Mr. Baggins' cousin, Miss Poppy Gamgee. I take it you've already met Bombur. The rest of our company is made of," he took a deep breath and began pointing about the circle that had formed, "Fili, Kili, Oin, Gloin, Dori, Nori, Ori, Dwalin, Balin, Bofur, and Bifur, my dear Anna."
As one, they all bowed and said in unison, "At your service."
Her head swam as she attempted to keep up and keep the rhyming names attributed to their correct owners. "At…umm, all of yours." A few chuckled at that.
"So, Anna, did you happen to—"
Voice a fierce whisper, Bilbo found his words, "I've told you once before, Gandalf, that is not her name."
Straightening and subsequently cringing as her back snapped in a few places after a dwarf—Kili?—took her place at Bombur's side, Poppy cut her cousin off in a low voice, "Bilbo, how is this not interesting?"
"Wha-What?"
Though she realized she probably sounded incredibly foolish given that everyone could obviously hear her, she breathed earnestly, "I asked you to wake me if something interesting happened." The dwarves again all roared in laughter, startling her a bit. Nobody but Bilbo had laughed at something she'd said like that in years.
Pushing through the small crowd, having to stoop mightily to maneuver, Gandalf gently took her arm with a smile. "Did you get a chance to make anything, my dear?"
She nodded, trying not to feel supremely uncomfortable with so many, many people in the small space that was the hallway, and led the wizard toward the kitchen. She supposed she should have felt uncomfortable given she was in her pajamas of one of Bilbo's old grey shirts over an equally old blue petticoat. The thought quickly left her mind. She could be in worse things.
Reaching into the breadbox, she extracted two large baskets of biscuits and then took the lid off the stewpot on the hearth. "Why didn't Bilbo get this out before?" she asked quietly, thankful only Gandalf had followed her. The rest were all witnessing Bombur regaining his wits.
Chuckling, Gandalf replied, "I do believe he's been quite occupied trying to save the furniture. When it comes to getting between a group of dwarves and their dinner, it's a bit like being the little piece of metal between the anvil and hammer."
Smirking at the analogy and the fact that poor Bilbo was that piece of metal, she reached into a cabinet and pulled out a huge stack of soup bowls, muttering names to herself as she did, counting in her head. "Thirteen, plus Bilbo and I?"
"Fourteen," Dwalin answered stoutly from the rounded doorway, his brethren all crowded in behind him, his expression almost daring her to contradict him. "He's just late." The last part was quite obviously for Gandalf's benefit. She merely nodded without another word when the dwarf's gaze came back to her and grabbed a ladle.
Filing into a straight, orderly procession, the dwarves lined up in the doorway with Gandalf at the lead. Each one thanked her with a small bow, a smile, and word of thanks, even Bifur though she hadn't the faintest idea what word he'd said. When Bombur came past, she held his dinner for a second longer, stating sincerely, "I'm so sorry."
He laughed, holding up his bowl, "This is apology enough, I promise, lass." She smiled for a moment until the next dwarf came up.
In the hallway connecting the kitchen to the dining room, Bilbo stood stunned at how they had miraculously stopped ransacking his house as soon as Poppy stepped up to the stewpot! Sighing, he took a short moment to sit down, resting his forehead on the heel of his palm.
Dwarves had invaded his home. Gandalf no doubt wanted to bring up that terrible adventure business. All his food was gone. And Poppy had suddenly been beset upon by a gaggle of boisterous dwarves and he had no idea how her solitary self was feeling at that moment. Also…his mother's poor glory box!
Each with a bowl of stew in one hand and at least three biscuits in the other, the dwarves crammed themselves into the dining room. The chatter immediately swelled to a roar as they arranged all the other goodies they'd found in the pantry upon the creaking table, too. Smiling faintly, Poppy peered out of the kitchen to see her exhausted cousin, "Here Bilbo." She held out a heaping bowl for him as well.
He took it with a still perplexed thank you, glaring at the dwarves who were now tossing food about to one another as if potatoes had suddenly become sporting balls! Poppy peeked in and smiled widely. Perhaps their manners weren't up to hobbit standards, but all the men before her surely knew good food and good company and relished each. Plus, they were an incredibly merry bunch and she couldn't help but feel merrier because of them.
Suddenly realizing that most had nothing to drink, she turned back to the kitchen to grab some tankards. Normally, she wouldn't be so tied to the kitchen, but Bilbo was a tad bit too…indisposed to be a proper host to such an unexpected party. She'd only just knelt to the floor and reached for the larger pint-sized ones in the far back of the cabinet when she heard a voice close behind her, "Do you want some help, lass?"
Having heard his approach but not having paid attention to it, she pulled back and glanced up with some surprise. The blonde dwarf who had witnessed her incident with Bombur earlier was crouched down beside her. His face was jovial with an easy smile beneath his braided moustache and his voice kind, an apparently common but universally unknown trait of his race. Smiling slightly at how merry the burly dwarves had turned out to be and at his offer of aid, she nodded, "Sure. Thank you…Fili?"
The young dwarf nodded with a widening grin, likewise using her name instead of lass for the first time, "Aye, Poppy. I'll take them if you hand them up to me."
Nodding, she stuck her head back into the cabinet, shoving her arm back with three mugs a few moments later. Warm, rough fingers brushed hers for a moment and then they were gone.
"Why on earth do you store all your tankards way back there?" he asked after taking the first few, the sense of hiding them away beyond him.
Handing him a few more, she answered with an unconscious giggle, "If hobbits started drinking pints on a regular basis, the Shire would be a far tipsier place." Fili erupted in laughter beside her at the thought.
When fourteen tankards had been collected for the company and she had grabbed one for Bilbo—she got the feeling he'd need a little something at some point during the night—she stood and helped Fili cart them all over to the keg he and his brother had set up in the hall. Each carrying seven brimming cups, the two made their way into the dining room.
Frowning for a moment, Fili shrugged and climbed atop the table, shouting as he went, "Who wants an ale? There you go!" Slight smile on her face, Poppy decided not to follow his example and simply passed the tankards down instead.
When her hands were empty, she turned to go, try and cheer up Bilbo a bit, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. Gandalf gave her a smile and she made her way toward him in the corner. Speaking softly amongst the din so only she could hear, he asked fondly, "How are you, little Anna?"
The brunette gazed intently at him for a moment before stating simply, "You've heard."
There was no question in her words but Gandalf nodded all the same. "Yes, I have. Quite a bit, actually. I take it Bilbo has taken it upon himself to become your protector?"
She nodded, "Yes and I love him for it, though sometimes I think he believes I'm about to shatter into a million pieces."
"You aren't?"
Laughing bitterly, knowing he didn't really mean it, she shook her head, "No. If you've heard then you should know that I won't. I'm far past that."
Squeezing her little pajama-clad shoulder, he apologized, "I am sorry not to have given you more warning, however. I'd imagine this must be," he was forced to pause as a toast was followed by a large round of belching, "…a lot."
Merely rolling her eyes with amusement at the habits of males in general, she shrugged with a real laugh, "I don't mind. It's rather nice not to be whispered about." Noticing the heavy silence that had descended in a post-burping pause, she added for the dwarves' benefit, "Some more time to get used to them and I may just learn to bake."
A large cheer went up at prospect, given that most had understood little of her and the wizard's conversation. Laughing as well, Gandalf pulled her into a one-armed hug, "I truly am so glad to see you again, Anna."
"Me, too," she replied before again leaving the room, more truth in her statement than he could possibly know.
She headed back to the kitchen, knowing that where there was that much food, there was bound to be even more dishes. Filling up the sink with warm water and soap, she pulled herself up onto the counter next to it to wait, listening to the conversation in the next room. Bilbo appeared near her soon enough and she merely handed him a cup of what looked like red wine. Dori she believed had poured it earlier for Gandalf.
Groaning in what could almost be physical distress, Bilbo took it and swallowed the liquid in one gulp. He looked ready to say something to her, likely comment on the lightness of her mood, when he suddenly caught sight of someone wiping his mouth with a doily. Scampering off, he nagged, "No, no! That is a doily, not a dishcloth."
"But it's all full of holes," the dwarf with the hat—Bofur?—declared with confusion. Poppy smirked at that, never having really understood the point of doilies herself, and continued observing the dwarves before her who had all taken to relaxing wherever they found, only rising to refill their pints.
Later over the talking, she heard a quieter, almost childlike voice ask, "Excuse me. I'm sorry to interrupt, but what shall I do with my plate."
Poppy was about to call that she would take it before Bilbo had an apoplexy once he realized all the washing there was to do, but Fili's voice beat hers, "Here Ori, give it to me."
She heard a slight whizzing and before she knew it, Bifur had shoved her gently to the side and he took the place in front of the sink. As soon as he had, her aunt's china plates began to literally fly through the air toward them. Screeching a bit in surprise, she ducked only to see Bifur catching every single one without much effort and Kili throwing them to him with equal skill. She opened her mouth to say…something, but the older dwarf merely smiled at her, the expression looking foreign on his wild face.
"Excuse me! No, that's my mother's West Farthing pottery!" came Bilbo's distressed, voice. "It's over a hundred years old!"
A rhythmic pounding of silverware on wood soon reached her ears as well, making her foot tap in time quite by itself. A smile crept over her face.
"Could you not do that? You'll blunt them!"
"Oooh, do you hear that, lads? He says we'll blunt the knives." She couldn't tell who that had been but a song soon broke out, Fili's voice the only she could assuredly discern. In a deep recess of her mind, she suddenly hoped that whatever business Gandalf had brought them there for would take a few days. In the dwarves' robust, rambunctious company she felt lighter than she had since she was a young tween.
"Blunt the knives, bend the forks!
Smash the bottles and burn the corks!"
A flute and lute quickly joined the fray as the dwarves started their song of what 'Bilbo Baggins hates!'
Bubbling up from deep in her stomach, Poppy was quickly overtaken by laughter. She couldn't help the heavy giggles that erupted from her mouth as plates, bowls, tankards, and everything else made their way with a ramshackle kind of aerial efficiency that was only egged on by her bubbly laughter. Sliding into the room, Fili and Kili sent her wide grins as they flicked a line of plates into the air and she began laughing all over again.
She sat upon the counter, ducking and grinning as dinnerware was flung her way, watching with great amusement as every single dish was cleaned and spotless by the time their song was finished.
Her laughter was soon added to by all the others' when Bilbo shouldered his way in and stared at the stacks of shining dishes with shock. A split second later, his gaze flitted to the tears of laughter running down his cousin's face and his face softened ever so slightly.
Silence immediately descended, however, when three resounding knocks were heard from the door. The dwarves all froze, the only sound being the few leftover giggles from Poppy. At the change in mood, she quickly got them under control, only a grin and a few stray tears remaining.
Gandalf's voice was incredibly ominous when he said simply, "He is here."
Sending the now silent guests a look of confusion, Bilbo slowly, hesitantly turned and made his way toward his foyer. The others all got up to follow him, Gandalf in the lead. Closest to her, Fili and Kili held out hands to help her down from her perch. Surprised at the unexpected move of chivalry, she could only stare at the outstretched limbs for a moment. Then smiling lightly again, she took them both and hopped down.
Unsure if her presence was intended to be included or if she wanted it included, she held back, deciding to see who this guest was before joining the fray. Smiling once again, she looked at the stacks of dishes with a shake of her head before beginning the process of putting them all back in their places. She heard Bilbo be introduced to someone named Thorin Oakenshield. There was the late dwarf Dwalin had spoken of. Taking one of the bowls that had just been cleaned, she filled it up with stew and silently placed it on the dining room table before disappearing again.
Continuing her work as quietly as possible, she shamelessly eavesdropped upon the conversation in the next room as the dwarves spoke of their home of Erebor and some signs that spoke of the time to take it back. She had read once of Erebor and its great wealth and how it had been taken by Smaug in a great tragedy. So that was the tale Gandalf had spoken of. What on earth did it have to do with Bilbo, though?
At Bilbo's question of the beast, she heard Bofur begin to describe in not at all gentle detail what the creature was. Bilbo snapped quickly, "Yes, I know what a dragon is." She could only smirk at her cousin's fire once riled. There was some heated discussion about how few dwarves there were to go on this quest and how Gandalf would've slain hundreds of dragons. Something told her that was wishful thinking, no matter how wonderful she thought the wizard. They seemed to have realized that too and an uproar began.
"Enough!"
She jumped as what must've been Thorin's voice rose over them all. A stirring speech quickly had his brethren behind him once again and they then spoke of a map, hidden doors, and the need of a burglar. Bilbo piped up at that point, obviously not having realized what Poppy had. He was to be the burglar. As a voice asked with no small amount of accusation if he was a burglar, she stood and quietly strode into the hallway, still mostly out of sight. She had the feeling Bilbo might need a friendly face in a moment or two.
"Aye," Dwalin said, "the wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves."
A jolt ran through her at his words, an old pain in her heart flared up. Perhaps not, but they could certainly learn.
As the assembled company all began to agree with rising volume, she could almost feel the darkness begin to creep through the house as Gandalf stood, "Enough. If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is!"
She'd heard a voice like that only once before, where it captured every living thing about it and forced them to take heed, but it had not been from Gandalf. His tone returned to the one she knew when he continued, "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose. And, while the dragon is accustomed to the scent of dwarf, that of a hobbit will be all but unknown to him, which gives us an advantage. You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more than appearances suggest and he has a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including himself."
There was a slight pause in which Gandalf glanced up and met her gaze briefly before turning it to Thorin, "You must trust me on this."
The dark-haired dwarf before her seemed to nod unwillingly, "Fine. We'll do this your way. Balin, give him a contract."
The elderly dwarf rose and handed a large parchment to Bilbo, despite her cousin's many objections. "Funeral arrangements?!"
Crossing the doorway, she went to stand beside Gandalf, her decision made without a thought. Still ignorant of her existence, Thorin leaned to the wizard and whispered in a low voice, "I cannot guarantee his safety, nor will I be responsible for his fate."
Before Gandalf could respond, Poppy had gently touched the wizard's arm. Both looked to her with surprise, not having heard her come over. Ignoring Thorin, she looked at Gandalf and, when she thought she saw comprehension in his gaze, she gave a quick nod that he understood. He had to smile. Bilbo may have appointed himself her protector, but her gaze had quite clearly just answered Thorin's statement: I will. She would guarantee his safety and be responsible for his fate. He had not banked on having two hobbits along, but some extra help for Bilbo couldn't go astray.
"Who is this?"
Before the dwarves' introduction to her had been filled with amusement, but Thorin's voice was hard with contempt at the surprise of being caught off guard by the girl. Gandalf watched as she visibly retreated into herself like a turtle going into its shell, any prior openness squashed under the weight of his tone. Flicking her blue eyes up to look at the dwarf king, she didn't answer, only turned to her cousin who was reading through the contract with growing hysteria.
"…laceration, evisceration…incineration?!"
"Oh aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye." Well, Poppy noted to herself, Bofur was not the shining example of subtleness apparently.
Bilbo visibly paled and she took a gentle hold of his arm. "Are you all right, laddie?" Balin asked kindly, voicing her sentiments exactly.
"I-I feel a bit faint. I need air."
"Think furnace with wings." She turned and sent Bofur a scathing glare that he apparently didn't notice but made a few of the others lean away from her slightly. "There's a bright light, searing pain, and then poof, you're nothing more than a pile of ash."
Bilbo straightened after a moment, looking surprisingly better. He even sent her a small smile as he apparently came to terms with what he'd just read. Warily, she retracted her hand. All was still for a moment before he shook his head, "Nope," and promptly fell to the floor in a dead faint.
"Oh very helpful, Bofur," Gandalf said wryly as he got up to help Poppy who had bent over her cousin immediately. Silently but forcefully, she stepped forward and snatched the tankard from Thorin's grasp, his being the closest. Cupping her hand, she stuck it in the ale and then splashed some onto Bilbo's face, waking him immediately with a strangled cry and a jolt. She helped Gandalf guide him to an armchair before the fire in the sitting room and then hurried to brew him some tea.
The dwarves looked at her with some amount of surprise, wondering what had caused her to go from the laughing albeit shy lass from earlier to the silent stone who ignored them completely as she walked by. Only on her way back did she pause when Bofur offered earnestly, "I'm sorry about that, lass. I didn't think he'd take it quite like that. He's supposed to be a burglar, you know."
The forgiving smile only appeared in her eyes before she continued on after seeing him understand.
"And I thought she was too quiet earlier," Kili muttered to his brother. It suddenly occurred to Fili that perhaps she was actually quite sad and the girl they'd seen tonight was a rare visitor in the hobbit hole…