An Unexpected Party
Bilbo opened the door to Dwalin, a tall dwarf, he had a mostly bald head, covered in tattoos and had a bristling moustache. He wore a brown cloak over a great fur mantle, a harness crossing his chest in the shape of an X, held his axes strapped to his back. With a War Hammer in his hands and daggers at his waist, Dwalin was every inch the Warrior that Bilbo knew him to be.
"Dwalin, Son of Fundin, Son of Farin, at your service." He rumbled with a bow.
"Master Bilbo Baggins, at yours. Do come in. Cloaks there, weapons in that rack and if you would be so kind as to remove any muddy boots?" Bilbo turned and called over his shoulder. "Kíli?"
"Yes, Uncle?" the young dwarf answered as he approached.
"Get Dwalin to give you a hand bringing the extra chairs in from the old storage room, there's a lad."
"Of course, Uncle. This way, Mister Dwalin."
"Uncle?" Dwalin growled.
"Long story." Interjected Bilbo. "If you'll wait until the others arrive, it'll be easier to explain it just the once."
"Hmf." And with that the dwarf followed Kíli into the halls of Bag End.
The hobbit didn't have time to close the door before he spotted the next dwarf making their way up the Row to his smial and so he just waited. The older dwarf had a shock of white hair and a beard that curved in two directions near the end. He wore a deep red surcoat over a mail vest. A striking sword at his hip was his obvious weapon of choice, but Bilbo knew that there were a number of daggers secreted about his person.
"Master Bilbo Baggins at your service. Good evening."
"Balin, Son of Fundin, Son of Farin at yours. Yes, it is, it is, but I think it might rain later."
"Yes, quite likely but it'll be gone by morning, it usually is." He ushered Balin in and closed the door. "Cloaks here and weapons there. Oh and if your boots are muddy, please remove them, I won't have time to clean up before we leave in the morning."
"Oh, yes. Of course, Master Baggins." Balin undid his sword-belt and stripped off his cloak placing them beside Dwalin's.
"I see my brother arrived, then?"
"Just moments ago, yes. He's giving Kíli a hand with some chairs." Bilbo answered before turning and calling out. "Fíli?"
"Uncle?" came the reply.
"Come fetch Balin and show him to the dining room, please."
"Coming, Uncle."
"Uncle?" Balin was startled.
"Yes, and I will explain, but let's wait for the others first, shall we?" Bilbo gestured for Balin to follow Fíli.
He then took a few deep breaths, he knew that the other dwarrow would be a minute or two behind Balin. He had time to run over what he and the lads had spent the last couple of days preparing.
Lemon tarts for Balin, strawberry shortcake for Dwalin, chocolate-almond slice for Bombur, apple pies for Bofur, rhubarb tart for Bifur. For the Ri brothers the were bread and butter pudding, golden syrup dumplings and baked rice. Oín liked passionfruit cheesecake and Gloín preferred a rich, dark fruit cake. There were more lemon-poppy seed muffins for Thorin, a chocolate mousse cake for Fíli and hopefully, Kíli hadn't eaten all the apple turnovers. Of course he'd made a small batch of vanilla shortbread for himself, hopefully he'd have some to take with him, but Dwalin was renowned for sniffing out cookies of any sort.
By the time he'd gone through the list in his mind, he could hear more dwarrow coming in his gate. Not waiting for a knock, he opened the door and stepped back. He wasn't going to end up on the floor under a pile of dwarrow this time.
"Welcome, good dwarrow, to Bag End, Master Bilbo Baggins at your service." He said once they'd regained their feet.
"Gloín and Oín, Sons of Groín, Son of Farin, at yours." Said Gloín.
"Bofur and Bombur, Sons of Borur, Son of Balur. This is our Cousin, Bifur, Son of Batur, Son of Balur. The axe is an unfortunate keepsake from past wars, it looks awful and stops him from speaking anything but Khuzdul, but he can understand Common, though." Bofur explained cheerfully.
"Ah. Good to know. If you'll place your weapons and cloaks here and any muddy boots over here, please. And you gentlemen?" Bilbo looked to the Ri brothers.
"Dori and my brothers, Nori and Ori, Sons of Lari, daughter of Kotri. At your service, Master Baggins." Dori then started to bustle around Nori and Ori, getting their cloaks and setting Nori to see to the weapons.
"Ready? Then this way if you please."
"Will Gandalf be joining us this evening?" Balin was asking as Bilbo entered the dining room with the newcomers at his heels.
"Not if he knows what's good for him, he won't!" Bilbo grumped. "The nerve of him. He turned up here this morning, for the first time in nine years. Nine years. I invited him in and he told me he'd given out my name to dwarrow as a burglar. A burglar, mind. I'm a respectable hobbit these days. Many years since I employed those sort of skills. He didn't even have the decency to ask first. Dratted wizard." Bilbo ranted for a bit as he started transferring platters of sliced meats, roasted vegetables and baked cheese dishes to the table. Thick rich gravies and luscious sauces in heavy jugs the next to be moved.
The dwarrow watched on, uncertain of how to respond to that.
"Don't stress on it, Bilbo, at least we wrote you as soon as he told us of you. Otherwise my Company of dwarrow might have had a very different welcome tonight." Thorin stated.
"Yes, yes, Thorin. Too true, too true. Let's eat and then we can answer any questions. Come now lads, dig in. I'd prefer not to have too much in the way of leftovers, so eat hearty, but don't forget to leave room for dessert, too. There'll be coffee and breakfast rolls in the morning. We'll bring them with us down to the Green Dragon, so we can all have a nice hot breakfast as we head off." With that Bilbo sat himself down at Thorin's left and filled a plate for the dwarf and another for himself.
The need for food dominated the next hour in Bag End. The meats were decimated and the roasted vegetables smothered in sauces and devoured. The cheeses scooped up using the crusty flat breads were the last to go. Dwarrow sat back in chairs with hands resting on well filled middles, while mugs of ale were consumed. Hums and sighs the only sound to be heard for a few minutes.
"Shall we wait on dessert a little? Let dinner settle first?" Bilbo finally said. Many grunts of agreement were heard and even a groan or two. Nori quietly asked Bofur where the hobbit fit it, he'd eaten plate for plate with Dwalin and Bombur.
"Master Baggins?"
"Yes, Master Balin?"
"Earlier you summoned Fíli and he answered by calling you 'uncle', you said you would explain why."
"That can wait, brother. Master Baggins? Is that a Courting Braid I spy?"
"Indeed it is, Dwalin." The table was roused to curiosity at this.
"Who Braided it? Who is your Intended?" From Gloín.
"That's a Durin Bead, isn't it?" From Dwalin.
"Of course it is, brother. You were the first of the Company to arrive, barring Thorin and the lads." Balin answered him.
"Did the Princess Dís approve of the pairing?" Asked Bombur.
"Have the Formalities been followed?" Asked Dori.
"Atkát!" Thorin stood, crying out to be heard.
When the table had settled he sat down and continued.
"The two matters are related. If you give me a chance, I will explain." He waited until this was acknowledged.
"This afternoon in front of Fortimbras Took, The Thain of The Shire, and my nephews, Fíli and Kíli, I placed a Courting Braid in Bilbo's hair. This has been a long time coming, my friends. I have known Bilbo for some time, but as you know, rarely does a Durin hear the sound of Mahal's Song and when we do, it is never at a first meeting. I can, however, be certain when I heard the Song for the first time. Bilbo, Fíli Kíli and I were crossing a creek and the sound of the rushing water swelled into His Song. I knew in that moment, Bilbo would be my One. My only One." Thorin lifted his mug and after a swallow and kept going.
"When Gandalf told me of his recommendation for burglar, I was hesitant. This quest is dangerous with many perils. Why would I expose a hobbit to that? My hobbit? Kíli and Fíli begged me to write to Bilbo about it and of course my hobbit replied. The letter bluntly informed us that Dís could run the Halls without our help, so he expected us here inside the month. I still had many things to do and meetings to attend to and so sent Fíli and Kíli on ahead. They've been here for some weeks now helping Bilbo acquire supplies and ponies on our behalf."
"We have our own ponies, though." Put in Dwalin.
"Not like these." Said Fíli. "These are ponies from Rohan. They're bred for strength and endurance. Sweet natured and calm, but fast when needed."
"If they're the other ponies stabled at the Inn, then they're good, Dwalin, really good." Nori added.
"Good." Said Thorin. "After arriving here this morning, I met with the Thain. My thanks to you, Balin, your meetings with the Thain covered many areas that we will be grateful to The Shire for its assistance in. Statements were made and questions asked and the result is a Courting Braid in Bilbo's hair, mine will be added by the morning. Now, Balin, you asked about Kíli calling Bilbo uncle?"
"Aye. That I did."
"Right. In Shire Courting customs, it is not condoned for a Courting couple to travel without both parties having kin to accompany them. As Bilbo had no kin that wish to travel with us right now, he has claimed Kíli as kin. This means that Kíli will represent the Baggins family in regards to the Courtship, this gives him the right to call Bilbo 'Uncle'. And because Fíli is his brother by blood, he also has the same rights as Kíli even though Bilbo has not claimed him, so he gets to call Bilbo 'Uncle' if he wishes."
Here Bilbo interrupted by placing a piece of paper on the table along with a lamp.
"Gandalf left this here when he came by this morning. I don't have to hesitate in assuming it is for you."
Thorin looked at the map, it was of Erebor, he remembered it from the last time he sat at the head of Bilbo's table. He knew that even though they didn't need Elrond to read the map for them, that the Company would still be going to Rivendell. After all, they needed to consult Elrond and Galadriel in relation to the Ring of Sauron. There had to be a way to stop Saruman from helping the Dark Lord. Thankfully that was to be left to the White Council, not Thorin and his Company.
"He also left this." Bilbo used a bit of sleight of hand to display the Key.
"If there's a key, there must be a door." This time it was Bofur who said the words, not Fíli.
"Look, here. On the side. Would you translate for me, Thorin?" Asked Bilbo.
"It says – 'Five feet high the door and three may walk abreast'. Obviously a reference to the hidden door. But… dwarrow doors can be near invisible and we do not know the maker, to look for his signature marks."
"Gandalf said there more to this map than he could read. He may have an idea of whom we should seek."
"Yes, we will ask him on the morrow."
"That would be wise." Stated Balin. "What new from Ered Luin? Did they all come?" He asked.
"Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms." Replied Thorin.
"What do the dwarrow of the Iron Hills say? Is Daín with us?" asked Dwalin.
Thorin sighed.
"They will not come." He sighed again. "They say this Quest is ours and our alone." He waited for that to sink in. "I will take each and every one of you over and army of dwarrow from the Iron Hills, for when I called upon you, you answered. Loyalty, honour and a willing heart. I can ask no more than that. From my grandfather to my father, from my father to me, this map and key came. I will see Erebor reclaimed." It was fairly close to what he'd said the last time, albeit only to Balin last time.
Cheers were rousing and long. While they cheered, Bilbo got to feet unobtrusively and fetched in jugs of spiced cider and trays of desserts. Subtly placing each dish near the dwarf whose favourite it was. When he sat down again, that long familiar contract was in front of his placemat. He assured Balin it would be signed for the morning.
Conversations were limited as each dwarf savoured their favourite desserts. After which the Company broke into smaller groups.
Ori, Nori, Bifur, Bofur, Kíli and Fíli were chosen to do dishes and started throwing the plates and cutlery around. Bilbo looked at Thorin and quickly whispered.
"Watch this." Thorin tweaked an eyebrow at him in question.
"Watch the knives, you'll blunt them." Bilbo called to Bofur.
"Hear that lads. He says we'll blunt the knives." Bofur cried. And so the song started.
Blunt the knives, bend the forks,
Smash the bottles and burn the corks
Chip the glasses and crack the plates
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates
Cut the cloth, trail the fat,
Leave the bones on the bedroom matt
Pour the milk on the pantry floor
Splash the wine on every door
Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl
Pound them up with a thumping pole
And when you've finished if they are whole
Send them down the hall to roll!
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!
Bilbo was trying not to laugh and only just succeeding, even if Thorin wasn't trying hard at all to contain his mirth.
Finally dishes were done, food scraps tucked away and the Company assembled in the smoking room to wind down the evening. Bilbo bustled around finishing up his packing.
He was taking his mother's bow and quiver, Kíli had re-strung the bow nicely for him. A new set of throwing knives he'd been given by Thorin, as a Courting gift, once the dwarf got over his shock. Two changes of clothes, extra smalls, a travel first aid kit and some spare handkerchiefs went into the bottom of the pack, next was a travel sewing kit. A collapsible fishing rod and some lures were tucked in the side. A cleverly made leather wash-kit, freshly stocked with soap and some spare combs and a silver flask of fragrant oil, good for anything a hobbit needed, from smoothing hair to something a little more intimate. If he was very lucky he might even get to use it that way. Maybe.
One more change of clothes and the pack was full. An oilskin was rolled up and tied to the bottom of the pack. He placed it on the floor beside the chair holding a change of clothes for the morning and his travel cloak with it's many hidden pockets, containing a small first aid kit, a packet of combs, his notebook, the throwing knives and a tinderbox. His and his dwarrrow's bedrolls already in the pantry with the food packs.
In the pantry he checked that the individual bags of tea and those of herbs for stews were secure, that packets of travel ration-cakes made from dried meat, fats and fruits were separately bundled. The bags of dried meats for stews rested alongside parcels of dried fruits, nuts and rusks. This special travel mix had been handed down to him by this mother, it was a favourite for all the Took's when they went adventuring. Lightweight and highly nutritious, it was easy to eat as you walked or rode.
As he made his way back to his room the pantry, the dwarrow started to sing. That Song. The song that moved him so.
Far over the Misty Mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away, ere break of day
To find our long forgotten gold
The pines were roaring on the heights
The wind were moaning in the night
The fire was red, it flaming spread
The trees like torches blazed with light