Here's more for anyone who's reading it. Enjoy!
Bilbo could feel the strength radiating from this were-dwarf, clearly the alpha of this pack, through the door. He opened it carefully. The were before him smelled like a burned forest, charred, but Bilbo could also smell green shots in the ashy midst. And he was handsome, black hair streaked with grey and sapphire blue eyes, Bilbo noticed as the dwarf greeted Gandalf. He snapped back into focus at the words "that mark on the door."
"Gandalf, what did you do to my door!? I just painted it and nearly got covered in green for my trouble!"
Gandalf winced at the irritated tone in the were's voice and decided it might be best not to answer. "Bilbo, allow me to introduce the leader of this company, Thorin Oakenshield."
"So." The werewolf said. "This is the were-hobbit. He looks more like a grocer then a bugler, and he is not a wolf."
Bilbo looked up at Gandalf and said plaintively "You'd think that someone who just walked into your house where his whole Company and food is waiting for him, though I'm considering removing the latter, would be a little more polite." Someone chuckled quietly as Bilbo fixed Thorin with a stern gaze. "I'd like it if you would be a little bit nicer. And if you want food, leave your boots and weapons by the door." He bustled off towards the kitchen.
Thorin watched the werehyena leave with undisguised shock, but removed his boots and left his sword and ax by the door with the already large pile of weapons. His pack moved back to the table and he followed, sitting at the head.
Bilbo grumbled about annoying were-dwarves all the way to the kitchen. Still, he wouldn't let this one go hungry, tonight at least. There was a large pot of beef stew he had made earlier that was still half full, so he brought a bowl of it, some bread, and ale over to the dwarf king. He let him eat for a few minutes before speaking.
"Now, Gandalf didn't tell me what you wanted. So you'll understand my confusion as to why the heir to the throne of Erebor is sitting in my kitchen."
The were-dwarves stilled and Thorin turned around in his chair to face the werehyena. "And how do you know that?"
Bilbo snorted. "I'm not an idiot. I listen to all the news that comes to the Shire and all the history I can. I have travailed, though never as far as that mountain. I know the story of Erebor, how Smaug came and destroyed both it and Dale. But I don't know why you're here."
Gandalf leaned forward, laying map on the table. "They intended to take back Erebor. And you, my dear Bilbo, as an excellent tracker would be an excellent addition to this quest." Bilbo frowned then held up a hand.
Weres have keen hears and so they all heard what he did, a low rustling in the kitchen and a sudden crash. Bilbo sighed and raised his voice slightly.
"I hope you're not this clumsy on your next job." He concealed his worry. Umbra didn't much like werewolves.
"If I was this clumsy on a regular basis, I'd be in much worse condition Bilbo." The voice was distinctly female and some of the dwarves glanced at each other. "I thought I'd taken care of all the arms men, clearly I was mistaken."
"Mistakes in your line of work will get you killed." Bilbo said as the woman came into sight and leaned against the door frame.
"Well, I'm not dead yet."
The were-dwarves stared at her. She was clothed entirely in black, leather trousers and jerkin over a long sleeved tunic of the same color. Her face was concealed by a black cloak and some sort of mask. Leather gloves were on her hands and the dwarves wondered who this woman was, what she did that she kept herself so hidden. Something about her made them all uneasy.
Her form went completely still. "I'll be leaving Bilbo."
"Oh no." the hobbit said firmly, facing the woman. "You shouldn't even be standing on that leg, much less walking to wherever you're thinking!"
"I didn't have a precise destination in mind, but I'm not staying in a house full of werewolves!"
"You got a problem with werewolves?" Dwalin growled.
"Yes-"
The next word she used brought Dwalin and some of the others growling to their feet. It was a word used to mean someone of dirty blood, an insult that was commonly used by those who disliked weres. Bilbo saw some of the dwarves reach to the small weapons he had allowed them to keep and Umbra palm a long knife of her own. If he didn't interfere soon, his dining room would become a bloodbath.
"Enough!" He said, loudly enough for all to hear without him yelling. Most turned to him though Dwalin continued glaring at Umbra. "Give the knives to me." When no one complied, his tone hardened. "Now."
Slowly but surely the dwarves who had grabbed their blades gave them to Bilbo and sat. Even Dwalin, after a glare from both Thorin and Bilbo handed his knife over to the hobbit. He turned to Umbra.
With a very audible sigh she gave him the knife. Bilbo raised an eyebrow and she handed over six more, from her boots, her arms, and her waist. Bilbo knew full well she had more, but he also knew that she was good enough with her hands for it not to matter much if she gave him all her knives.
"I know you aren't fond of werewolves but I'm asking you to be polite, for the time being at least." He told her, leaving no room for argument. He turned to the dwarves. "That goes for all of you as well. I'm going to get some food, and if I come back to find you all acting up, I'll throw hot soup in your all of your faces and kick your injury Umbra. Am I understood?" Fourteen heads nodded. "Good." He left them and filled another bowl of beef stew for Umbra and brought it to her along with bread and a mug of ale.
"Now, what were we talking about?"
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