"Just a few more swings and I'm done." Hayden thought. She had been chopping away on the last log for nearly half an hour now, letting the presence of the bald dwarf slip from her mind. Instead, she focused on hitting her mark with the axe blow after blow, intent on not only finishing the task, but finishing on a high note with minimal misses.

A few stray strands of hair had fallen loose from her braid, sticking to her forehead with sweat. She stopped her swinging, setting down the axe against the fence in an attempt to tuck the strands away. The night air had grown much colder than when she first noticed the chill; goosebumps found their way to her arms and exposed calves within a matter of seconds.

She took a moment to look at her hands, red and throbbing from the constant swing of the axe. Blisters were popping up in the spaces where her fingers met her palm, threatening to grow in size and sting as her night went on. Hayden sighed, knowing that her hands would be worse for wear in the morning but knowing she had to finish the task; blisters would definitely hold her back from finishing it tomorrow.

Just as she had tucked her hair back into the braid and was bent down to retrieve her axe, a short, white haired man approached the fence. He appeared to be in traveling clothes similar to those she had seen on Dwalin, though he looked far less dangerous and much more grandfatherly. His beard was longer, coming down to nearly his belly and pointing off in opposite directions, almost resembling the tail fins of a fish.

"Good evening." She said, offering the first introduction as she stood up straight. "This is my chance to try again. Talking to dwarves shouldn't be that hard. They're only another race - nothing to be afraid of." Hayden thought.

The man smiled warmly, tugging his cloak around himself. "Good evening, lass. Though I see you're still at work when all your neighbors have turned themselves in for the night." He said, quirking a brow upwards in question.

"Yes, I'm almost finished. I had a lot of chopping to get done today and I felt like giving up simply because the sun had retired was a waste of time." She replied, confidence in her voice.

The man smiled once more, nodding his head in understanding. "Well I would offer my assistance, but I'm afraid my presence is expected elsewhere. I'm Balin, son of Fundin."

Hayden crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes squinting slightly as if in thought. "You wouldn't be on your way to the home of Bilbo Baggins, would you?" She asked.

The man's eyes widened slightly at recognition of the name. "Yes. Yes, in fact I am. I thought I was getting close, though I fear I may be late."

Hayden smiled and took a few steps towards the fence. "You're very close. In fact, you're here." She said with a cheeky grin. "Keep going around the path and the front entrance will be on the left up there. I imagine Bilbo will be expecting you." She said, pointing up the road.

Bilbo's forgetfulness in sharing his dinner party plans with her was almost as comical as his inability to remember to purchase tea. There was no use at this point to hold jealous or resentful thoughts towards his dinner guests - she might as well help the man find his way to where he was invited.

"Thank you-" Balin began, stopping in hesitation. "I don't believe you gave your name."

"Oh, I'm Hayden. Hayden Telchara." She said, offering him a small smile.

"Thank you, Hayden. I don't believe I have ever heard a name such as that. It's lovely." He said, taking a few steps towards the front door she had indicated. "I would put on that cloak if I were you. Air's getting a bit harsh and I believe it might rain." He said, gesturing to the cloak lain over the fence rail with his head.

"Oh, thanks. I will just as soon as I finish chopping. I don't want to accidentally tear it or get it too dirty." She said, waving slightly as he continued on to greet Bilbo.

"Aye. T'would be a shame to damage such a pretty thing." Balin said, nodding to her as he departed.

"That wasn't that bad. He was delightful. I can't let appearances get in the way of my interactions with others like I did with the bald dwarf. No one is going to look the same here, at least not to my standards from home. But that doesn't mean I have to expect the worst of them. Especially from men - I need to try and bury that skeleton if I can." She thought.

Reaching down once more, she found herself in a rhythm with the axe. With only a few more feet of the tree left, she would be on her way stacking the wood inside the storage room. The break in labor had left her chilled as well, and she found herself dreaming of the moment she could wrap her body in the deep purple embrace of her cloak.

Bilbo scurried out of the kitchen, reluctantly leaving Dwalin alone at his kitchen table. Passing through his parlor, he kicked a few stray papers on the carpet underneath his desk. Hayden would have a fit if she noticed her hard work had gone to waste in his disheveled home along with the fact that there was a very loud, rude, and angry looking man gorging himself in the kitchen.

He opened the door with a light heart and expected to see Hayden's delicate, cheerful face after the dwarfish surprise that had previously met him. He had no patience for games tonight, and a small feeling in the back of his head told him some mischievous intentions were behind Dwalin's sudden arrival.

The door swung open, revealing yet another dwarf. Though less intimidating and donning a friendly smile, his presence on the opposite side of the threshold was just as unwelcome as Dwalin's had grown to be on the inside of the house.

"Balin," the dwarf sang out, bending at the waist and extending his arms out to his sides, "at your service."

As if following his mother's orders regarding decency and manners, Bilbo forced a brief smile. "Good evening." He said in a slightly annoyed tone, discounting his attempts at niceties.

"Yes. Yes, it is." Balin replied, looking up to the skies. "Though I think it might rain later." He added, crossing over the doorway.

"That's no concern of mine. You cannot use the rain as an excuse to seek refuge in my home." Bilbo thought.

Balin looked a Bilbo, concern pouring over his face. "Am I late?" He asked, much more seriously than his greeting had been.

"Late..." Bilbo trailed off, wondering if this dwarf was perhaps lost, though he highly doubted two dwarves could arrive at his doorstep because they had taken a wrong turn. Perhaps they were misinformed as to where a dinner party was being held. "For what?" He asked, hoping the dwarf would give him a straight answer.

Perhaps he knew Dwalin and knew what was going on, or rather, what should have been happening on some other hobbit's property in some other hobbit's home. It would only make sense; there could be no other reason for two dwarves to show up in the Shire at Bag End on a spring night like this. This had to be a mistake and Bilbo knew it.

Balin opened his mouth as if to answer Bilbo before his attention was captured by the ruffling sound of Dwalin in the other room. Balin stepped forward into the parlor, watching Dwalin attempt to scavenge some cookies from a jar on the mantle with a smile on his face.

"OH!" He called out, laughing openly. He dropped his pack on the floor in the parlor. "Evening brother."

"I knew it. Now these two can reunite and be on their way." Bilbo thought. He looked out into the evening fields, half expecting to see Hayden trodding up in pursuit of the dwarves herself. She would have had to have seen them as they made their way to the front door.

"By my beard!" Dwalin exclaimed. "You're shorter and wider than last we met."

Balin looked back at his brother with admiration despite the playful jab. "Wider, not shorter. Sharp enough for both of us." He added, a knowing smile growing on his face.

Bilbo looked from outside the door to the brothers and back again. How was he going to get these dwarves out of his house? Where were they coming from? Was there another brother out there?

Dwalin and Balin both chuckled, grabbing one another's shoulders in a stoic embrace. Bilbo thought it slightly touching watching the brothers reunite, though his distress concerning the situation that lay before him almost outweighed the observation. Bilbo walked forward, wanting to address the situation further with the two before anything else got out of hand.

Without warning, the brotherly embrace turned into a bashing of craniums as they knocked foreheads together, a loud smack permeating throughout the halls. What was obviously some dwarvish custom or brutish tradition did not sit well with Bilbo, eliciting a jump from his small bones.

"Uh, excuse me?" Bilbo protested, attempting to gain their attention. "Sorry, I hate to interrupt." He added, politely interjecting to break up the family reunion. "But...but the thing is, I'm not entirely sure you're in the right house."

The dwarves mumbled to one another, laughs still spilling out of them. They didn't hear Bilbo, for their excitement and eager hearts were chomping at the bit for the days to come. The chance to reclaim their homeland was drawing near with each passing minute; whatever this small hobbit had to say paled in comparison.

"Dwalin," Bilbo began, taking yet another step into the parlor. "I think -"

"Come 'round here!" Dwalin exclaimed, placing his hand on Balin's back and leading him towards the hall. "The shelves are undoubtedly full with stores."

Bilbo stood near the fireplace, watching the two dwarves ignore his voice and presence, finding their merry way to his food supplies. With a light sigh, he scurried after them, intent on getting the truth out as politely and efficiently as he could.

"Have you eaten?" Dwalin asked Balin, filling a mug of ale from the elevated keg in the pantry.

"Yes. I brought my supper with me on the road. I figured we would need to be easy on our host, what with thirteen dwarves harboring hungry bellies." Balin said, grabbing another mug and handing it to his brother to fill with ale.

"This is a celebration. There won't be a dwarf here tonight who doesn't feast and fill his belly beyond capacity. You are not an exception." Dwalin said, sorting through breads and crackers on a shelf.

"You're quite right. It is a celebration, but we don't need all this food. We can make do with a few portions, surely." Balin said, inspecting some more cheese in front of him.

Dwalin turned to his brother, giving him a look of disbelief. "There will be plenty of time for petite portions. Tonight we eat."

Balin nodded in acceptance. He had eaten earlier, expecting their meal would not be as fruitful as it was turning out to be. The older dwarf had found he did not seek out meals as he did in his youth, though he still ate his fair portion. Given the chance the company would not be stopping at inns or taverns on a nightly basis, he considered his options quickly, deciding that he too would feast with his brother and kinsmen.

Bilbo stood in the doorway to the pantry, attempting to get up in the brother's faces so as to ensure they heard him. "It's not that I don't like visitors. I-I like visitors as much as the next hobbit." Bilbo said. He didn't want them to feel unwelcome or thrown out, but he needed to plead his case concerning their uninvited and untimely presence in his home.

"But I do like to know them before they come visiting." He continued, swaying on his feet with the bits of impatient adrenaline that lingered in his veins. Certainly the notion to be wary of strangers ran parallel in all cultures of the various races of Middle-Earth.

"What is this?" Dwalin asked Balin, holding up a cube of cheese to his nose before offering it to his brother to inspect.

"I don't know. I think it's supposed to be cheese - it's gone blue." Balin said, a slight tone of disgust in his voice.

Bilbo sighed, not knowing if his words were being heard or simply ignored. "The thing is," Bilbo began once more, "The thing is, uh. I don't - I don't know either of you."

"It's riddled with mold." Dwalin added to his brother, throwing the reeking clump of cheese over his shoulder and into the hallway. He'd help clean it up later, but right now he and his brother needed to see to arranging a feast for the rest of the company.

Bilbo watched as a chunk of his neighbor's famous blue cheese sailed through the sky, landing in a light plunk on the tile. "Not in the slightest." He added, swallowing down the silent rage that was building up in his throat.

"I don't mean to be blunt, but I had to speak my mind." Bilbo continued, determined in his efforts to politely ask the dwarves to leave, even if he had to put on a much more serious front. "I'm sorry."

"Do you think we -" Balin began, looking from his brother to the hobbit.

Bilbo cleared his throat, as if to reinstate his point in the silence that began filling the hallway. Their occupation was not warranted in his home this late, this informally. He dreaded being stern about the issue, but what with Hayden and their already tiring day resulting from Gandalf's presence, he had to insist.

Balin looked at Bilbo thoughtfully, Dwalin's face blank as stone. "Apology accepted." Balin said with a slight nod, addressing Bilbo for the first time since entering his abode.

Bilbo's mouth dropped as his head shook with disbelief. He wasn't apologizing for any action or offensive comment - he had been politely asking the dwarves to reveal their intentions and eventually wanting to persuade them to leave. Perhaps the older dwarf was hard of hearing, but Bilbo assumed he was just as likely rude.

"Oh now, fill it up, brother. Don't stint." Balin said, gesturing to the mug in Dwalin's hand.

"Aye, aye, aye." Dwalin said as he sighed.

"What did you apologize for, Bilbo?" Hayden asked. She stood opposite him on the other side of the doorway, clutching a pile of chopped logs in her tired arms.

Bilbo jumped, not having noticed her presence beside him. "Hayden! I -"

"Here, lass. Let me take those for you." Dwalin said, stretching his arms out and taking the wood from Hayden.

"Just set them in there." Hayden said, gesturing to the storage room on the left of the pantry wall. "There's not much more space in the other storage rooms." She added, wiping her sweaty palms on her pants.

Dwalin grumbled an 'Aye,' walking into the room to set the wood down in a corner. He took note of the extra dishes and chairs, motioning for Balin to come look as well.

"I have probably six more trips to make. Would you help me, Bilbo? It's starting to sprinkle and I -" Hayden began, taking a few steps backwards to the west end of the hall.

To Bilbo's horror, the door rang once more. Cutting off Hayden, he turned on his heels, staring down the hall towards his front door with an angered glare. If any more dwarves lie beyond that door, he would change his name and uproot his home, never to be found again by any meandering wizards or intrusive dwarves.

"I could live in solitude." Bilbo mused as he stomped to the front of his home, his bare feet padding violently against the floor. "Oh yes. Hayden and I will live in solitude. It's decided."

He reached the door, hoping briefly that someone had come to claim the dwarves but swiftly dismissed the thought. This night was bound to get worse before it got better.

Hayden sighed, turning to return to her awaiting piles of wood outside. She would just have to see this chore through herself, seeing as Bilbo had other plans to attend to. Briefly she wondered how large this dinner party was going to be - and if she would even be welcome at the table.


"Stand up taller." Fili whispered, patting Kili on the lower part of his pack as he climbed the stairs towards the underground abode.

By sunset, the brothers had entered the Shire, traversing through the rolling and tumbling hills and coming upon the home who's stairs they eagerly climbed after seeing the mark on the door indicating a burglar seeking work lived inside. It glowed a pale blue, bright and alluring in the dimming night sky. Just as Thorin had instructed, the mark was easy to find yet hidden enough that a disinterested third party could not see it were they simply passing by.

"Wipe your feet if you get the chance - no use trailing in an excess of earth onto this hobbit's floor." Fili added, reaching up towards Kili's shoulder. "And don't forget to -"

"To bow at the waist, yes." Kili quipped, swatting his brother's arm away and pausing on a step. "I know how to be polite, specifically with introductions. It's the only thing I've mastered when it comes to diplomatic relations."

Kili ran a hand over the back of his head, smoothing out wandering strands from their clasp without much luck; his hair was not nearly as wild as Fili's, though, so the strands still poking out weren't all that noticeable. "It's the part after arriving and before departing in which I always seem to wander astray."

Fili smiled briefly, running fingers over his mustache after watching his brother calm his own locks. "Well we may have been invited but that does not mean we can't be shown out for improper behavior." He gave his brother a knowing look, as though to agree with Kili's history of mishaps.

"Though this is a very serious matter, I don't think you'll have to mind yourself as you would during council. We have to uphold the noble presumptions associated to our titles as the line of Durin, as I know you are aware." Fili said with a smile. "Just -" He began, weary that Kili's facial expression was an inclination of his annoyance with him, "try not to engage in competitive combat after dinner."

Kili nodded with rolled eyes. "I think I can do that, seeing as I'm no longer a dwarfling."

"Thank you for reminding me; Your maturity was lost on me with that pout on your face." Fili said, walking up the last few steps to the front door.

Kili followed, crossing his arms and swiftly attempting to wipe off his face clean of displeasure.

"If you get bored, please refrain from finding things to stuff in Oin's ear trumpet. There will be plenty of time for that on our journey." Fili said with a light chuckle, though it was not meant for communal amusement.

"And don't try to build a fire under Uncle's belly and prod at him over trivial issues so you can see the vein protrude from his forehead. You're not the one who has to calm him." Fili said with a point of his half gloved finger.

Kili nodded, trying not to let his agitation show. He always respected his brother, but he was beginning to outgrow the brooding parent Fili transformed into from time to time.

"If there are women, try not to oversell yourself like you so eagerly did yesterday morn." Fili continued, ignoring his brothers impatient stare.

"You think there will be women?" Kili asked, eyes suddenly wide and bright, reflecting the small smile on his lips.

"No, I -" Fili began, placing both palms on his face to cover his eyes. He let his hands fall, tugging at his cheeks as his fingers slipped. "I doubt there will be any women, but seeing as there may be a wife to our host, attempt to control your provocative and unruly behavior. Now is not the time for flirting nor should the possibility of such an encounter be a concern of yours."

Kili sighed, letting his arms fall to his sides in exasperation. "Can we please get on with this? You agreed to lift the weight of your responsibilities for this quest. Have some faith in me, brother."

"I do have faith, I just need to remind you that it is not granted without action on your part." Fili said, taking in a breath and awkwardly readjusting his pack as if to make the comment more casual rather than a directed jab at his brother's behavioral patterns.

Kili shot him an annoyed side glance, raising his arm to knock on the dimly lit door. "Is it Baggins or Biggins?"

"Baggins." Fili replied, smoothing out his tunic beneath his coat.

"Are you positive? I thought it was Biggins." Kili said, searching his mind for a memory of the name.

"I believe it's Baggins." Fili said once more, adjusting his coat for a final time so that his weapons were properly hidden yet his muscles were prevalent enough to suggest he could hold his own.

Kili stood motionless, unsure which name he should use in greeting their host. "No. Perhaps you misheard." He said, confident he was right and Fili was wrong.

"Perhaps you should have paid attention in our briefing during council with Uncle." Fili retorted. "If it's not Baggins, it's Boggins." He offered. "Biggins does not sound like either of those options, even if I had misheard."

Kili nodded, not wanting to admit fault but caught in his own naiveness. Reaching up, he knocked on the green door, noting the mark had now disappeared into the moonlight that touched the green wooden panels.

The brothers stood there for a few moments, hearing muffled talking from inside the home but not the sound of someone coming to answer the door.

"Do you think they heard the knock?" Kili asked, looking to his brother.

"I don't know." Fili replied, looking over his shoulder to the moonlit hills once more. A rope caught his eye, swaying gently to the left of the door just above his head.

"I'll try again." Kili said, rearing back his fist to knock louder than before.

"Or we could try ringing the bell." Fili said, reaching out to grab his brother's arm and simultaneously giving the rope a sturdy tug.

Kili looked over to his brother, meeting his smiling eyes. He let out a careless laugh, Fili chuckling softly to himself. At the sound of stomping footsteps, they stood up straight, breathing in the night air as the creak of the door met their ears.

A small, frazzled looking hobbit met their gaze from the circular doorway. He whimpered slightly, as though answering the door was much more of a task than need be. His mouth did not quirk up in a smiling welcome, which struck Fili as odd, but it was the hobbit's eyes that worried the blond dwarf more. They seemed stressed, regretful even. Not qualities a burglar's eyes carry when looking for a job.

Not wanting to give the hobbit any more to fret over, Fili quickly spoke up. "Fili." He said with a nod of his head.

"And Kili." His brother replied, having taken the verbal queue to speak.

"At your service." They said in unison, bowing at the waist and snapping back up with beaming smiles, Kili's a bit too enthusiastic. This bow was something they had practiced since dwarflings, aiming to elicit a smile and dash of amazement from their elders.

"You must be Mister Boggins!" Kili exclaimed, wanting to show is brother how prompt and polite he could be when put to the test.

"Nope! You can't come in." The hobbit said all too quickly. "You've come to the wrong house," He added, moving to shut the door in their faces.

Kili swung his arm out, catching the door in its path. "What? Has it been cancelled?" He asked. The thought briefly crossed his mind that he could have mispronounced the hobbit's name, angering him in the process and thus casting out their invitation.

"No one told us." Fili added, suspecting something else was at play for the hobbit's unwarranted dismissal.

Bilbo looked at the pair with irritated confusion, his eyes squinting as if to understand what event they were talking about. "No. Nothing's been cancelled." He replied, shaking his head violently as if the very thought of cancelling their meeting was enough to get sick over.

Kili's face lit up once more, ridding the worry that had spread between his brows. "Well, that's a relief." He said, stepping inside the home before the hobbit could close the door once more.

With slight hesitation, Fili followed. Though the hobbit had not explicitly told them to leave his property, he hadn't exactly invited them inside his home. He would have to remind Kili that manners outweigh urges, especially in situations such as these.

Stepping down into the hallway and passing the parlor where Kili unloaded, Fili looked to Bilbo, giving the hobbit a smile laced with knowing eyes. He dropped his pack, setting to unstrapping and handing off his weapons so as to not walk around like a clunking warrior during a diplomatic dinner party, albeit a gathering of kinsmen.

Bilbo looked at the dwarf in horror, watching as endless knives, daggers, swords, and axes came raining out of the dwarf's pockets and crevices - did he have any other, less deadly possessions? Swinging a belt over his shoulder, Bilbo stood in wait. His arms grew heavy, not wanting to drop the weapons and hurt his foot, or worse - ruin his floors.

"Careful with these," the blond began, lifting his eyebrows ever so slightly, "I just had 'em sharpened." He placed them on top of the pile in Bilbo's arms with a light clunk.

Unaware that his behavior was pompously inappropriate, Fili kept on unsheathing and untucking. As a noble dwarf, the prince was accustomed to having his weapons taken by someone else upon entry of a home or hall, particularly in situations where he found himself surrounded by food, drink, and good company. He dug into his coat's fur collar, finding another large dagger to add to the pile like a cherry placed gingerly on top of a cake.

Kili emerged from the parlor, having rid himself of his pack and bow, and walked down the hallway to where his brother and their host stood. "It's nice, this place. Did you do it yourself?" He asked, briefly looking around at the walls and tables overflowing with memories and clutter.

"What? No. It's been in the family for years." Bilbo answered, straining to look over his shoulder at the dark haired dwarf.

Eyeing a box with excellent edges, Kili remembered his brother's warning about not tracking dirt into the hobbit's home. He began scraping his boots on the wooden box, mud curling off his toes in waves.

"That is my mother's glory box!" Bilbo exclaimed, torn between dropping the contents of his arms to remove the box and staying put to see the weapons safely away. "Could you please not do that?" He asked, practically yelling.

"What is a glory box?" Kili wondered, scraping his foot one last time.

Looking up to see Dwalin burrowing down the hallway, Kili smiled at the sight of his old friend. Dwalin was like a second uncle to him and his brother, having been close to Thorin and constantly present in family gatherings. Kili always looked up to Dwalin, knowing that his own childlike mannerisms mirrored those buried below the burly dwarf's hard exterior.

In times of punishment, Dwalin would often console Kili by talking to him, urging him to see the logic and reason behind Thorin's rash temper. The older dwarf would tell stories and jokes, constantly insisting that finding the humor out of life kept the heart young, which in turn kept the warrior nimble. Kili never could understand why Dwalin hid his comical, light hearted side from others - it had always brought joy to an otherwise dampened spirit.

Dwalin always provided him with the opportunity to hash out his anger and frustration, turning weapons practice into a game that only got better when the young dwarf would admit his faults in order to rework them as strengths. Kili grew to understand that Dwalin was someone he could turn to when all others seemed too busy or too impatient, realizing as he had grown that Dwalin's teachings and games had given him the chance to see mistakes as stepping stones, paving the way for him to prove his worth as a prince of Durin.

"Fili, Kili. Come on. Give us a hand." Dwalin said, getting down to business. He had no time for the jubilant greetings that typically accompanied introductions, even those with kinsmen.

"Mister Dwalin!" Kili exclaimed with a laugh as Dwalin reached his arm around to pull the young dwarf into a side embrace. Dwalin gave his shoulder a slight squeeze, propelling Kili towards the dining room where Balin waited.

Having heard Dwalin's request for aid, Fili jogged down the hall and into the dining room, leaving Bilbo to shuffle behind with his weapons.

"Let's shove this in the hallway, otherwise we'll never get everyone in." Balin said, nodding at a china cabinet sitting on the west wall of the dining room. He looked to Kili in a warm greeting, nodding to Fili as he entered as well.

Fili and Kili walked over to the cabinet, squatting down to lift the full wooden cabinet.

"Everyone?" Bilbo stammered, having just walked into the entryway of his mess of a dining room. "How many more are there?"

None of the dwarves answered his question, instead focusing on creating more space in an already shrunken room. Bilbo felt a stream of sweat form on his brow as he watched his china cabinet being moved while full of breakable, priceless objects and heirlooms.

"Lift it." Balin said, flapping his hands in a small, upward motion to direct Fili and Kili with the piece of furniture. "Out there. We need to make space."

Kili peered around the cabinet's back, giving Fili a look as if to mock Balin for his obvious exclamation.

"What else would we do, kick it?" He whispered to Fili.

Fili swallowed a chuckle, smiling at his brother before raising his brows in amusement.

The door rang once more, Fili noticing Bilbo scurry off with a mound of weapons still in his small arms. He briefly wondered where they would end up and regretted giving them to the hobbit to stow. Before bed he would find them and take stock - right now he could only focus on the task at hand as his kinsmen and friends arrived.

He and Kili set the cabinet down just outside of the dining room arch, walking into the pantry to find Dwalin filling his arms with cheeses, vegetables, and dried meats.

"There's some more chairs in there." Dwalin said, pointing with his head to the storage room. "And some plates. I imagine we'll need the lot for tonight's festivities." He added with a knowing smile, looking down the hallway as the sound of more dwarves trailed inside.

Kili took the food from Dwalin, dropping a head of lettuce in the process. Dwalin caught it before it could touch the tiles, setting it on top of a partially molded chunk of cheese.

"Thanks." Kili muttered, stepping back to take the food to the kitchen. "Are those crumbs?" He asked, looking at Dwalin's beard. "Did you eat already?" Kili questioned further. "Without us?"

Dwalin folded his arms over his chest, cocking his head to the side. "If ya' don't get that food to the kitchen you won't be eatin' at all." He said, pointing his chin towards the area of the dining room as if to shoo the young dwarf off.

"He ate without us!" Kili exclaimed to his brother, seeking an equal reaction from him.

Fili simply smiled, shaking his head as he stood with a pile of Bilbo's plates in both his hands. "Go Kili. Come back and help with the chairs." Fili instructed.

Kili did as he was told, Fili following closely behind with the extra plates. Fili returned a few moments later after setting the dishes on the dining room table, picking up a chair as Dwalin carried more food to the kitchen. The chair was fairly light, though the delicate carvings in the wood told Fili these pieces of furniture were by no means cheap. He didn't expect to see a hobbit living this luxuriously inside a home burrowed in the earth. Then again, dwarves lived even deeper inside mountains; Fili found himself swallowing his assumptions about the shorter race.

Fili took a chair in to the dining room, handing it off to a waiting Balin. "Kili!" He yelled, stomping into the kitchen. "Kili, come on!"

Kili rushed to the doorway, practically knocking his brother over in the process. He struggled to hide the chunk of cheese nestled in his cheek, smiling shyly. Fili rolled his eyes, placing a hand on his brother's back and leading him back to the storage room.

There were five more chairs in the room, neatly stacked in the corner. Dwalin had carried the remaining plates and bowls from the crate after bringing a large chunk of fresh vegetables into the kitchen. The food was important, but Dwalin elected to leaving the pantry alone for now until they had more hands. That way, it could properly be emptied and a meal could be underway after the dining room was at least partially set up.

With seating arrangements needing placed, Balin and Dwalin began setting out plates and silverware to be cleaned, noticing many from the storage room were caked in dust. Kili brought in the chairs, leaving them for Fili to set around the table, and returned to the storage room to retrieve the last two. Fili stood in the dining room in wait, expecting the need to find more chairs, possibly even a table or two - or three.

Trudging down the hall with tired knees and heavy arms, Hayden had shuffled into the crossroads of the pantry and dining room. "Excuse me, could I get some help?" Hayden asked, struggling to balance five logs in her arms. Sweat continuously poured down the sides of her face, her back becoming cool with perspiration as well. Her hood sat neatly on top of her head, radiating the heat coming off of her cranium.

The older dwarves simply ignored her, their arms whipping around the table in a hasty attempt to organize their dinnerware. With ringing laughter coming from the front of the house, booming voices in conversation, and the clinging of dishes and housewares, Hayden figured her voice had simply been drowned out.

"Excuse me?" She said once more, slightly louder. Her arms shook, wanting to drop the logs with growing impatience. Where was Bilbo, anyway?

She stood for a few moments in silence as the dwarves rearranged chairs. She recognized Balin and Dwalin, recalling their pre-engaged offers to help outside. Surely they would follow through with those offers of assistance if they were decent men. If only Bilbo were in the room - he would no doubt help her finish carrying the logs inside. At least, Hayden hoped he would.

A dark haired man much younger than the two she had spoken with walked past her, a chair in his arms. At first Hayden assumed he was human, but quickly altered her stance seeing as he was similar in height and build to Dwalin and Balin. Surely he had seen her and would help her as soon as he dropped the chair. He walked back out of the dinning room, Hayden reaching out slightly in hopes he would take the logs from her. He simply continued out of the room without so much as a blink in her direction, returning a moment later with another chair.

"HEY!" Hayden yelled in a high-pitched voice. She hadn't expected it to be as loud as it was, but it seemed to have worked.

Dwalin gripped the table, eyes searching for a possible weapon. Balin grabbed his beard, not expecting the shrill noise. Fili jumped, his hand whipping to his hip where one of his daggers sat patiently in a holster. Kili dropped the chair he had been carrying, readying his stance were an altercation to take place. The dwarves may have been distracted, but they would never be caught off guard.

Hayden looked at the four men from underneath her hood. The last thing she wanted was to be angry, yet she felt the burning sensation rising in her throat, threatening to burst out of her mouth. Perhaps it was the feeling she wasn't invited to this gathering that added to her frustration, or perhaps it was the fact she was physically drained from the day. Most likely it was a combination of the two, but she didn't have the patience nor the desire to decide which.

"Would it kill any of you to lend me a hand? I've been standing here waiting for someone to help me." She breathed out, wanting desperately to drop the logs. A bead of sweat dripped down the side of her face, trailing onto her cheekbone. Ever so carefully, she wiped it off with her shoulder.

"I understand you have a party to prepare for, but I just need an extra pair of arms for a few moments." She added in a polite attempt to lighten the mood. These dwarves may have ignored her, but she still held enough reason to see that their intentions were not offensive. She might as well extend the same courtesy.

When none of the dwarves moved, instead meeting her gaze with bewildered and startled eyes, Hayden let her weary arms win. She lifted her hands, letting the cut pieces of wood tumble down over her feet and onto the floor, rolling in various directions. A scowl found its way across her lips, hearing a stampede of footsteps coming from the front of the house.

"Enjoy your dinner." She stammered, spinning around to walk back to the yard. If no one would help her, she would finish the job herself. Whether the logs found their way to a tidy corner of the home or not was Bilbo's problem.

Fili launched himself after her, pointing to the logs as he skipped over them. "Kili. Get these out of the hall."

Kili nodded, not having expected such an outburst from a woman with such a nice face. "Who was that?" He asked, picking up three of the five logs.

"That would be Hayden." Dwalin replied, walking into the hall to take the logs from Kili.

"Hayden?" Kili asked, his face scrunched up in confusion. The name felt foreign on his tongue.

"Aye. Bilbo's friend." Balin answered, smoothing out his beard against his tunic.

"His friend? In his house at this hour?" Kili asked, reaching down to pick up the last log that had rolled under a bench in the hallway.

"Aye." Dwalin said, pointing to the corner of the room where he had stacked the other logs.

"They're not married? Are they betrothed at least?" Kili asked, his voice rising in pitch.

The thought of a woman living with a man without romantic interest seemed out of place to the dwarf. Even if the girl was purely company for hire, he did not imagine she'd be roaming the house without Bilbo, let alone doing chores. He mused for a moment if that was why the hobbit was so stern when opening the door - perhaps he and his companions had interrupted the hobbit's evening with her.

"No. They are simply friends. I find it a bit odd myself, but I believe it to be true." Balin answered, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "Why else would a lady spend her evening chopping wood while a man sits inside?"

The sound of Bofur's laugh echoed in the hallway, pulling Balin, Dwalin, and Kili's attentions away from the outburst and to their incoming comrades. Within a few moments, Bofur had emerged, his brother Bombur trailing behind.

"Lads!" Bofur exclaimed, opening his arms in a welcoming gesture. "The day has finally come!"

Gloin and Oin emerged behind him, patting Bofur on each of his extended arms.

Nori trailed in through the kitchen, eyeing the dining room table full of fancy yet empty plates. "Let's get some food cooking, shall we?" Nori said.

"I'll get to it." Bombur said cheerfully, attempting to shuffle around the chairs and table and into the kitchen. When he could not fit through, he resorted to walking back into the hallway and down to the front entrance. Passing through the parlor, he found himself in the kitchen at last.

"You could have just come in through this side door here." Said Ori, a sweet smile on his face as he leaned against the kitchen sink.

"It would have been nice if you had told him that before he walked all the way round." Dori said, shaking his head. "Help the others with washing the dishes." He instructed, pointing to the dining room where Balin and Bofur emerged, plates in hand.

"Someone get me an ale!" Gloin shouted, eliciting cheers from the others.


Hayden stormed outside, walking to the pile of logs that sat waiting to be stored. She eyed the mound over, deciding whether or not she really wanted to take everything inside. Her body had not been used to such physical labor and the emotional pain that had taken root in her stomach had grown with her hunger. Perhaps all of this could wait until tomorrow.

She stood, resentful eyes staring blankly at the logs. If she didn't finish this task, what would she do? Could she go inside and join Bilbo and his company? The thought only embittered and embarrassed her more. She shouldn't have dropped the logs like she had. She felt like a child that had thrown a tantrum, desperate for answers after being left out of this gathering.

"How could Bilbo have left me out of such a party, and why? Have I done something to offend or displease him? Are women not allowed at dinner parties in Middle-Earth?" She thought, wrapping the cloak tight around her shoulders. She adjusted the hood on her head, attempting to block out the moon and its beauty. "I thought I was his friend." A few tears prickled up into the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over should she continue in this state.

"May I assist you?" A voice called out from behind, followed by a low clearing of a throat.

Hayden turned, half intent on dismissing the assistance yet partial to welcoming the help after being ignored by the mass of strong and able men. She stopped before a noise could leave her mouth, feeling the words catch in her throat in a massive clump. Before her stood a dwarf, slightly taller than she and much more muscular. She could recall seeing him inside, but somehow she felt she knew him as he stood before her.

She looked up at him from her hood, daring to put a face to the charming voice. Briefly, she let her eyes wander over him. His attire was intriguing, what with his gloves, various daggers, and leather straps mingling between his fur collared coat, yet his face was even more so. His eyes were kind yet reserved, a smirk playing underneath his mustache that was tied off with braids on either side, swaying down to just above his chin. She had never seen a man with these types of facial braids aside from her father who had held them in his fiery beard; the sight brought forth an unexpected feeling of familiarity and comfort.

She opened her mouth in response, only to close it after a moment with a quick nod of the head. There was something about the way his steady eyes met hers in the moonlight, the strength and reassurance of his outstretched hands, the promise of warmth were they to touch. A spark lit in her chest, blazing as she continued to ponder the dwarf before her. The instant attraction she felt was undeniable yet she could not bring herself to speak. It was as though she had lost her voice, throwing it out into the night air to dance around in mockery with each cold lick of the wind on her face.

He looked at the girl, cheeks flush with the red tinge of labor and eyes shining under the shadow of her hood, and felt a wave of recognition wash over him. Her eyes were welcoming, as though he had sought refuge in them before. There was something about her heavy breathing, rhythmic and steady, that reminded him of something. Or was it someone? He couldn't quite place the memory.

At her nod, he took the opportunity to pick up an armful of logs. Crouching down, he inspected the wood, turning over a few pieces in the moonlight. The cuts were jagged and rough, but much more precise than he had expected.

"You chopped all of these?" He asked, looking up at her.

She nodded in response, her gaze wandering off into the garden where the Fumellar was planted. What a pity she wouldn't be given the chance to talk more with this dwarf at dinner; she was dying to know what other worldviews were out there, how other people lived in Middle-Earth. Then again, perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, seeing as mice were decibels louder than she currently was.

Fili picked up eight logs, balancing the tower as he stood. "I'm impressed. Your aim could use some work from what I see with your marks. Nonetheless, this is very good work for a woman."

"For a woman?" Hayden asked, suddenly finding her voice. "What do you mean for a woman?"

Fili turned, having taken a few steps toward the back door. "Your aim is quite good for a woman. Most dwarven women are excellent with an axe, but other races seem to lack in strength and skill in comparison. I've yet to see work this good from a woman other than a dwarf." He said matter of factly, walking toward the door once more.

"My father taught me to wield an axe. I'm just as good as any man when I'm not rusty." She spat out, crouching to pick up an armful of logs herself.

Fili was taken aback by her comment, thrusting the door open with his foot and holding it for Hayden to walk through. "I meant no offense. Though I think his lessons lacked dwarvish focus, I'm sure your father taught you as well as he could. You should be proud to have such a skill as a woman. You just need to -" He began, watching as she walked inside the hallway.

"No, you just need to stop talking. You have some nerve. Don't speak about my father again - you won't ever be half the man he was." She said through clenched teeth, walking down the hall and carelessly dropping the pile just inside the spare room that held materials for whittling and other various hobbies. Who did he think he was, attacking her father like that? She could handle his comments, but degrading her father had crossed a line.

Fili simply stood at the door, watching the woman storm back down the hallway. Her eyes were piercing, their icy gaze slapping him in the face with a hard sting. He couldn't recall seeing that look on the face of a woman before; the sight both intrigued and frightened him.

"Please, miss. I truly meant no offense. There is nothing wrong with being of the weaker race; it is in your blood." He said as she crouched down to pick up more logs.

"I said stop talking." Hayden said, stopping at the door and staring down the hall. She swallowed hard, forcing down the resentment that had built up in her throat. "Are you going to help or would you prefer to watch the weak girl do all the work?" She asked, avoiding eye contact with the pompous dwarf.

Fili pursed his lips together, desperately trying to hold his wild tongue inside his head. He did not like angering anyone, especially women which he so often seemed to do, though this particular situation was entirely new to him. He had never encountered a woman so stubborn about racial qualities - it was as if she had never considered the biological differences between dwarves, men, hobbits, and god forsaken elves. The least he could do was apologize, yet it was evident that no soothing or reassuring words would be of help.

"Please." He said, gesturing with his head for her to enter the back door first.

Reluctantly she walked inside, dropping the logs to form a larger pile in the spare hobby room as tears began to silently stream down her face. Fili followed as well, setting his logs next to her disarray on the floor.

The two continued carrying logs inside, making multiple silent trips over the course of a few minutes. Fili's mind wandered over their interaction, struggling to find a point in which he had been in the wrong. Hayden cursed herself for even thinking there was an inkling of attraction; looks were ostensibly all this dwarf had to offer.

After Hayden placed the last few logs on the ground, she faced Fili who had been standing motionless with his hands behind his back. He smiled weakly, to which she shifted her gaze. Unsure if her cheeks were stiff with dried sweat or tears, she refused to smile at the dwarf. She found herself caught between feeling proud at her hard work or self conscious at her disheveled appearance.

"I did not mean -" Fili began.

"Thanks." Hayden blurted out, turning on her heel and practically running into the bathroom. She needed to bathe the sweat and grime and heartache away; whether or not improving her appearance would help anything, she did not care. The bathroom held sweet smelling soaps and warm water, and it certainly was void of arrogant dwarves and inconsiderate hobbits.

Fili stood in the spare room for a moment, fighting the urge to go after the girl he had angered. Her actions confused him, as though his comments of flattery had been churned into insinuations that her race were inadequate. He had conversed with many women of various races, and not once had he ever managed to offend one of them for stating the obvious.

He realized he wasn't quite sure what race she was. She stood at the height of a dwarf or tall hobbit, yet her stature and build mirrored that of a human. Her hood had been drawn, so he wasn't sure what her ears looked like. If they were pointed in any way, he could decipher whether or not she was of elvish or hobbit-ish heritage. He assumed that she was a half breed, though he was not quite sure what races made up the two halves. Her father must have been human, for hobbits usually held slightly more precise cuts in their craftsmanship and woodwork than men.

A pang of guilt crept up inside his stomach at the thought of the girl's father. His comment of the man's teachings was not meant in a derogatory way, yet he found himself regretful of it all the same. From the way she had spoke of her father, he was most likely deceased and thus even more deserving of respect and honor.

Fili let his mind wander to thoughts of his own father, gone yet unwavering in Mahal's eyes. Had someone spoken about his father so casually and disrespectfully, Fili would have reacted in much the same way. He walked out into the hallway, glancing at the closed bathroom door, before uttering an apology to Mahal and his father for behaving dishonorably and to the girl and her father for his careless conviction.

"Fili! Fili, my boy. Where 'ave you been?" Bofur called out, a mug full of ale in both his outstretched hands. "I was beginning to think I'd be left 'ta drink all this by meself." He said, gesturing to the barrel of ale that sat inside the pantry. Surprisingly, he failed to spill any of the drink in his theatrical greeting.

"No, I don't imagine I can let you do that." Fili said, forcing a smile as he walked. "Are one of those for me?" He questioned, desperately wanting to forget about the encounter he had with the girl and his disrespectful performance. A good drink or two would certainly help.

"For the right price, aye." Bofur smiled, almost enhancing the ever-present twinkle in his eye.

Fili reached Bofur in the hallway, crossing his arms in the process. "And what price might that be?" Fili breathed out, attempting to appear playful through his aggravation.

Bofur extended an arm out, a worn hand clasped around the wooden mug full of golden ale. "You have to drink the entire thing. None of your sips or gulps - just slosh it down like a melted river in early spring." He said, an eyebrow jolting up as if in doubt that Fili would be up to such a task.

Fili grabbed the mug, eyeing Bofur closely. "A price that high deserves a concession."

"Aye, and what might that be?" Bofur asked, placing his freed hand on his hip.

"You have to drink with me." Fili said, holding up his mug as if to toast.

Bofur let out a roaring chuckle, lifting his mug to touch Fili's. "To the Company." Bofur said before throwing back the mug and filling his belly with the warm contents.

Fili watched his friend for a moment, letting a smile grow on his face as little drops of ale traveled down the tips of Bofur's outstretched mustache. "To the Company." Fili said in agreement, drinking his ale as well. It slid down his throat like butter, warm and perfect after a long days journey and an excellent prelude to a night of feasting with kinsmen.

Fili wasn't sure if he would come around or if he would have to force a good mood upon himself the entire night. Surely this night had been well awaited and anticipated enough to draw a genuine cheer out of the dwarf, yet the thought of the girl alone in the bathroom, upset and unnerved, left him feeling useless.

He didn't even know her name yet her presence alone had set his nerves ablaze. Her eyes had held him in a way he was all too sure they had done countless times before. How could a stranger make him feel at peace yet so anxious? It was as though his soul were bound to hers in some way yet the very thought of such a connection threatened to evoke fear in his heart; fear not of the unknown, but of the possibility he may come to fail her.

"Let's get a move on." Dwalin called out, stepping into the hall so his voice could properly travel through the curved hallways. "Grab a bushel or an armful and take it to the kitchen."


Everyone was hands on deck, swarming into the pantry with hungry bellies and eager eyes. Gloin and Oin stopped searching for additional chairs; Nori and Ori left the remaining plates and silverware by the sink. Bombur even paused his work in the kitchen to help bring in more food; a cook can only make a proper feast if he has the proper ingredients.

Bilbo emerged from the his bedroom, having grabbed a pair of trousers and suspenders from a pile of older clothes he had kept in a side table. He had intended to either give them away or use them as hardy work clothes, though at the present moment he found himself glad to be out of his robe and at least one step closer toward appropriate attire. It would seem his guests were persistent on staying; he might as well attempt to be a proper host, that way he may actually accomplish something.

Watching the dwarves shuffle in and out of his pantry reminded Bilbo of a busy day at the market, like one following a terrible storm in which every hobbit and his brother were out trying to restock on essential supplies or make a profit amidst the chaos. Though the shouting was not caused by a wave of panic or barter, the dwarves' explosive cheers and comments crowded Bilbo, making him feel as though he were stuck inside a hole while the dwarves trampled over his small body.

Bombur walked out of the pantry, a large platter of thickly sliced chicken in his hands. Bilbo attempted to stuff the rest of his nightshirt into his pants, forgetting his suspenders entirely and hobbling over to the massively round dwarf.

"Uh - excuse me, that's my chicken." He blurted out, flabbergasted that the dwarves had not only insisted on staying but were going to feast without so much as an acknowledgement or consent from their host.

Bombur continued into the dining room, setting the platter down on the table for others to take into the kitchen, seeing as his round frame didn't quite fit through the small space. Others streamed out of the pantry, carrying vegetables and dry goods that Bilbo had nearly forgotten he had. All the same, Bilbo found a mixture of disbelief and anger brewing in his belly. In the line of dwarves followed Bifur, carrying two bottles of aged wine from Bilbo's cellar.

"Um, if...if you don't -" Bilbo began, noticing the alcohol that he had been saving for a special occasion. "That's my wine! Excuse me!" He yelled, frustration apparent from the puffs of steam that tried to billow out of his ears.

To Bilbo's surprise, the dwarf stopped in the middle of the hall, having actually heard the hobbit's comments of protest. Aside from Balin's unwarranted forgiveness earlier on, none of the dwarves had truly stopped to acknowledge Bilbo in his own home. Bilbo tugged on a suspender, yanking it up over his shoulder as if to emphasize his serious opposition.

The dwarf uttered something in dwarvish, Khuzdul if Bilbo could recall. Though he was not sure what the dwarf had said, he relished in the small moment of recognition - he was beginning to think he was a ghost to these men. Bilbo shook himself from the dizzying atmosphere, looking at the dwarf as if staring would help him to understand the language. As if waking from a daydream, he noticed the axe in Bifur's forehead, crusted and unmoving in a burrow of flesh.

The look of horror must have caught Oin's attention, for he tapped on Bilbo's shoulder. "He's got an injury." He stated, as though the obvious weren't blatant enough.

"You mean the axe in his head?" Bilbo asked flatly. "I can't believe I just asked that." He thought, struggling to grasp his mind around how odd the night was becoming.

"Dead?" Oin asked, pointing the trumpet apparatus lodged in his ear towards Bilbo, as if to hear him better. "No. Only between his ears." He continued, having misheard the hobbit but not pausing long enough for Bilbo to clarify. His eyes widened slightly, "His legs work fine." The old dwarf finished, brushing past Bilbo to follow Dwalin into the pantry.

Bilbo stood in the midst of the circling dwarves, stuck in a dazed trance. His home was unraveling and Bilbo's grasp on his belongings was crumbling with it. Just as self pity began to sink in, he saw Dwalin emerge from the pantry with yet another platter of meat, only this was Mrs. Bank's famous honey-dried turkey.

"I'll have some of that!" Fili exclaimed as he walked past the platter, eyes wide with excitement.

"No, you will not." Bilbo thought, whipping his head around to follow the meat into the dining room. His body followed after, moving in slow motion as the dwarves spun around him.

"Put - put those back!" Bilbo stammered as he eyed a plate of oatmeal cookies in Bombur's hands. The dwarf continued into the dining room, passing off the plate to Fili before turning around to grab more food.

Bilbo followed Bombur, spinning around to face the pantry once more. Ori walked past, carrying a bowl of freshly shelled boiled eggs. "Put that back!" He yelled at the dwarf, who gave him a sheepish smile in return.

As if on queue, Nori walked out of the pantry on Bilbo's other side with two jars of honey. "Not my clover honey!" Bilbo thought, wanting to lunge at the dwarf to pry the sweet sticky stuff from his hands. "Put that back." He growled out with a finger extended.

"Not the jam, please." He called into the pantry, having glanced at the shelf where his honey had sat moments before. In what appeared to be an act of defiance, Kili grabbed almost every jar of jam, jelly, and preserves he could hold, walking out of the pantry with the glass containers balanced against his chest.

Letting out a sigh of defeat, Bilbo adjusted his other suspender strap, having let the twisted piece of fabric hang from his waist in his panicked frenzy. Bombur carried out three rolls of creamy gouda, resting his round chin on top.

"It's a tad excessive, isn't it?" Bilbo asked, coming to terms with the fact that his pantry was picked dry as it was; there was no use trying to gather up his food to hoard once more. "Have you got a cheese knife?" He asked in an attempt to at least help the dwarves eat cleanly and politely; if they were to eat his food in his home, he might as well play the part of a host.

"Cheese knife? "He eats it by the block." Bofur called in his merry voice, continuing into the dining room carrying a baked ham in his hands. Bilbo was so flustered, he had failed to notice.

Bilbo loved his food, especially the finer delicacies and recipes. He ate two breakfasts a day, lunch, dinner, supper, and snacked in between with tea. Yet somehow the notion of consuming an entire block of cheese was too much for him to handle - his stomach grew full at the thought.

Fili and Kili walked into the pantry, picking up the half-full barrel of ale that sat in the middle island. Carrying it out, they moved to set it by the door both for easier access and to make room for one more full barrel when they got to it.

Bilbo pushed down the urge to ask the dwarves what they intended to do with the barrel when he saw Oin and Gloin walking in from down the hall, carrying two of Grandpa Mungo's chairs from the front storage room. The sight of this was all too much.

"No, that's Grandpa Mungo's chair." He said to Gloin, who simply walked past the nagging hobbit. "No, so is that." Bilbo said to Oin, who stopped to point at his ear to indicate he could not hear what Bilbo was saying.

Bilbo took this to his advantage, pushing on the legs of the chair to steer the old dwarf around. "Take it back, please." He said as Oin pushed back, determined to reach the dining room. "It's an antique. Not for sitting on." Bilbo added, saying each word with emphasis as if to get the message through.

It seemed to have worked, much to Bilbo's relief, for he let go as soon as Oin turned around down the hall. Only, Oin walked down the hall and through the parlor, taking the chair away from hobbit eyes and through the kitchen instead.

"Oh, not a coaster. Put that map down!" Bilbo called out, watching as more dwarves emerged from down the hall carrying trays and pictures that they intended to use as tabletops.


Fili re-emerged from the dining room, mug of ale in hand. His eyes wandered around the crossroads of the pantry, a smile growing on his face at the sight of his friends and family preparing for their celebration feast. He brought the mug to his lips, letting the warm ale tickle his mustache as he took a long drink.

Movement at the west end of the hall caught his attention, his facial braids swinging in his sudden shift in movement. The girl had come out of the bathroom, wrapped from head to toe in towels, and jogged into another room to the left. The sight of the girl left a brief impression in Fili's mind, his thoughts wandering to the towels and the implications of what could be found underneath. He quickly dismissed the thoughts, realizing the opportunity to apologize lay before him.

"Kili!" He shouted, calling for his brother.

Kili emerged from the dining room as well, a mug of ale in his own hand. "Brother?" He asked with a smile on his face.

"Take this." Fili demanded, thrusting his ale into his brother's free hand.

Kili took the mug eagerly, a questioning smile on his lips. "Where are you going?" He asked, watching Fili turn to walk down the hall.

"To speak with the girl." Fili answered, not wanting to draw too much attention as to why he needed to see her. The apology was not meant for open observation or wandering ears.

Kili's eyes lit up at the thought of the woman. She was neither Bilbo's betrothed nor any one else's it would seem, and so the opportunity to flirt lay present on his mind. Despite his brother's warnings about promiscuous behavior, Kili figured this opportunity was too easy to pass up. It wasn't every day he found himself in such a carefree atmosphere with a woman as available as this Hayden presumed to be.

"Here." Kili said, turning to Ori who had just come out of the dining room in retrieval of more food from the pantry. He gave the young dwarf the two mugs of ale, smiling as Ori took them with a confused glance without having much choice.

Not waiting for Ori to question the exchange or where he was off to, Kili jogged down the hallway in pursuit of his brother who had yet to reach the door the girl had disappeared behind.

Bilbo turned from his rotating spot in the middle of the hall, watching as Fili and Kili took off toward the west end of his home. Most of the dwarves had stayed in the central part, focusing on the food and furniture Bilbo wanted returned to their places of origin.

As soon as he saw the dwarves passing his study and making their way towards Hayden's room, he found his hairy feet scurrying after them. He hadn't had the chance to speak with Hayden since the dwarves had taken over, but he saw the saddened eyes that had glanced down the hall after coming out of the bathroom.

"OH! No, no, no,." Bilbo stammered, following the two brothers down his hallway. Though they were barely any taller than he, they seemed to walk much faster. Perhaps their legs were longer and he made up for it in his torso. He couldn't be sure, and it wasn't the time to be pondering such trivial things.

"Best not bother the lady right now. She's had a rather long, tiring day and an even longer, more exhausting time here it would seem. And I, uh, I don't think she likes men." He finished, placing his hands on his hips trying to look as intimidating as he wanted to sound. She had taken long to warm up to him and get back to herself; he wasn't about to go and let some hairy, intruding creatures jeopardize that.

The two dwarves had stopped in the middle of the hallway just before the guest room to listen to the hobbit's tirade. Bilbo thought this good progress, though his words had fallen on deaf ears.

Kili stepped forward, a mischievous grin on his scruffy face. "Then it is a fortunate thing, Master Boggins, that we are not of the race of men." He finished with a quick upward jolt of his eyebrows before turning cheekily to his brother, who gave him a nod of severe disapproval.

"Kili, go back to the preparations." Fili said, shooting his brother a look of utter annoyance as he walked.

"It's Baggins. Please, Master dwarves, I don't -" Bilbo protested, as they ignored his comments and walked the rest of the way down the hall to her door.

Fili turned to Bilbo, an intensiveness still present in his eyes. "All will be fine, dear host," Fili quipped, brushing off Bilbo with the wave of a hand. His intentions were not malicious or as cocky as his brother's - he simply wanted a chance to apologize.

Just as Bilbo went to protest, a hand clapped him on the shoulder and gently pulled him backwards. "Mister Bilbo, few of us would enjoy a cup of tea though I cannot seem to find it in your pantry." Complained a rather impatient but polite Dori. "I searched through your cupboards only to find an array of herbs and spices, but none that would suit well for drinking."

At the reminder of his cupboards and pantry being uprooted, Bilbo ran a hand through his curly locks in distress, letting out a whimper. "Yes, well, I keep my tea elsewhere, perhaps that is why. I will bring you some selections, just," he stammered, ushering the dwarf towards the kitchen once again, "wait in the kitchen. And don't touch anything else, please."

With that, he walked off towards his study where his brilliant books often awaited him. Their stories and histories rich with adventure and escape while maintaining the comforts of his home. On his desk in the corner amidst the pieces of parchment and various ink wells lying about, was a box with segregated sections of herbs and spices. He lifted the lid carefully, taking stock of his already dwindling supply. He had forgotten to pick up more tea earlier this day, and made a mental note to go to the market later in the week to resupply, though it was evident he needed to restock quite a lot more than that. And then some.

Despite his better judgment, he emptied the contents of his chamomile blend into an empty saucer with haste. "There is plenty of this to go around," he whispered to himself, and defiantly prepared to argue with the dwarves if they requested a different blend.

Saucer in hand, he left the room with a hurried click of the door's latch. He walked briskly back down the winding hall towards the kitchen, noting that the dwarf brothers were in what looked to be a heated conversation with Miss Hayden.

"Heated scolding is more like it," he thought, as he continued on into the kitchen, focusing on the task at hand. He briefly hoped that he didn't await a scolding when this was all over, but his thoughts were bombarded by the sight of a wheel of aged cheese being rolled down the hallway by two dwarves in some sort of race, knocking tables and knick-knacks over in its path.

"These dwarves!" Bilbo ushered out, practically dropping the saucer.