AN: I do not own the hobbit, its characters or places. I merely decided to play with them one day.
FanFiction Queen: I'll teach them if you give me some ideas on dishes :D, I can't see Nori making fondant fancies. Ori is like a puppy, so cute and cuddly but wind him up enough and you are reminded it has teeth :p
Chapter Eight – Black Ale.
When Bilbo had calmed down and apologised repeatedly for his behaviour, he made his escape from the Green Dragon. His melancholy had sobered him up completely and though not embarrassed by his actions, he wanted to be away from the pitying glances he was receiving from the patrons of the tavern. He trudged back to Bag End with his hands stuffed deep in his pockets and shoulders hunched. At his gate he paused, a hand on the latch staring up at the candle lit windows. It looked cheery and welcoming but he had to wonder what type of reception he would get upon his return, his anger hadn't abated, but he had control of his emotions again, his cousins' support being enough to shore his walls back up again. He sighed, lowering his head and closing his eyes momentarily, one hand working through his curls and messing them up further. A cold wind reminded him night had fallen fully, even if it wasn't yet late enough for the star constellations to be visible yet. He stared petulantly at his own door, torn between the desire to walk in or simply leave his guests to their own devices. In the end the hobbitish side of his character won out and he softly pushed open the gate to tread softly up his stone stairs.
The warmth of the smial sunk into his skin before he had even shut the door properly and despite what could be waiting for him, his shoulders relaxed. He leant against the inside of his door listening to the murmurs that were coming from his dining room. He eyed the passage debating if it was worth making a dash to the kitchen, before deciding he needed to eat something before the ale took a hold of his sense again. Acutely aware of the eyes on him Bilbo entered the dining room, once again causing the conversation to stop. He pulled up short and closed his eyes, before groping blindly for the door. A hand on his shoulder stopped him and, resigned he turned to face the dwarf who had stopped him. To his surprise he saw it was the dwarf with the axe embedded in his forehead, he tilted his head in question, getting a tug on his hand and a wide smile in response. Puzzled he allowed himself to be towed back to the table, (he was dimly aware that he probably couldn't have gone anywhere else with a dwarf pulling him anyway,) and to be pushed softly into a seat. "Merag? Stuttered the dwarf, Bilbo looked at him confused.
"I'm sorry?" he felt himself slur the words slightly and so made a stronger effort to force the inebriation back, feeling that he was missing something "I don't know what you are asking me Master Bifur," he met the dark stare head on, "could you get someone to explain to me perhaps?"
To his relief Bifur nodded and backed away, seeing no-one else step forward, Bilbo threw his manners to the winds and started piling a plate high with the food he could reach. He vaguely noticed there was a lot less food than there had been and while part of him was glad, the main part of him just wanted to eat enough to start to soak up the black ale. Without further ado he tore into the pile of food in front of him.
Dwalin could feel himself staring when Bilbo returned. It had been planned that they would apologise to their host and attempt to make amends, yet when the hobbit had stumbled through the door Dwalin had lost the carefully planned words. The smaller man was decidedly windswept, eyes glazed and curly hair standing up every-which-way. Dwalin looked on throughout Bilbo's whole interaction with Bifur, he knew his mouth was open but he couldn't seem to get his brain to function enough to control his reactions. Most of the company was making an effort not to stare as their host dug into nearly double what they had managed to eat (and from what little attention Dwalin could spare them he thought they were doing better at it than him,) and so small conversations had started up around the dining room. Dwalin finally managed to close his mouth only to open it again when it clicked why the hobbit's eyes had been unfocused and his words slurred. Dwalin immediately cut off that train of thought, the softening of the hobbit's grasp of Westron had stirred something inside of him that he couldn't place and Dwalin didn't have time for riddles. He tried to gain control of himself again, and moderately succeeded on his second try, "Erm Bilbo," he tried cautiously, unconsciously licking his lips in his nervousness.
Bilbo snapped his head up to look at Dwalin, and struggled to swallow what he'd been eating, to aid him he downed half of the nearest tankard before staring at it and groaning when he realised it was honey mean. "Yes Master Dwalin?" he gave up on not being slightly drunk that night and took another sip of the mead to clear his throat. "Sorry about displaying the manners of a pig there," he smiled softly at the dwarf, "What can I help you with?"
"I … It … We…" Dwalin cleared his throat and looked helplessly around the room, no one met his eyes and he could see some of their nervousness returning and knew he had to speak soon. He sighed deeply and ran a hand over his face, "How much did you have to drink?" he froze shutting his eyes as if in pain and resisted slapping himself for the completely inappropriate question.
Bilbo stared at Dwalin for long moments, and the tension in the room had just started to rise when he started to giggle. Fili and Kili's heads snapped up and they stared open mouthed at their giggling host. Ignoring everyone else they crept closer to the hobbit looking at him in wonder. Bilbo turned his head to look at them and managed to raise an eyebrow at them despite his giggling. "Erm Master Baggins…" began Kili cautiously, "don't take this the wrong way," he chewed his lip for a second before stepping closer, entwining his fingers with his older brother's he took a deep breath, "I think Dwalin meant just what have you been drinking?"
Dwalin's eyes shot open and he glared at his nephews, "No I most certainly didn't!" he began harshly, "It was inappropriate of me to even think of…Bilbo?" Bilbo had once again fallen off his chair and was lying on the floor, clutching at his ribs as he finally lost his fight with laughter. Dwalin walked around the table to look down at him, "Okay, forget those to questions where can I get some?"
Bilbo flapped a hand at him, "st...t...t…op," he managed to get out passed his laughter.
As he struggled to get his laughter under control he looked up into grey eyes and something in them hit him hard enough for him to hiccup into relative calm. He sat up slowly and the surrounding dwarves stilled slightly, the Durin brothers taking two quick steps back, "Oh relax boys." He breathed without looking at them, "So can the rest of you," he continued not breaking eye contact with Dwalin. The dwarf reached a hand to help him up and Bilbo gripped it tightly allowing the larger male to pull him to his feet. He allowed Dwalin to grasp his other elbow as he swayed slightly at being pulled upright so quickly. He knew the other dwarves were watching them with cautious interest, and so didn't lean in too much, trying – even in his tipsy state- not to scandalise them, the ease with which he interacted with the muscular dwarf unsettled them enough. "You really want to know Master Dwalin?" he tilted his head as he carefully took in the reactions of those nearest, yet his eyes still never left Dwalin's. He leant in closer and heard Fili and Kili's twin nervous laughs, Ori's shocked chuckle and Bofur's gleeful laugh. He smirked, "You mean you haven't heard of the Shire's deadly Black Ale?" he pretended to swoon, pulling his arms out of Dwalin's grip and collapsing heavily into a conveniently situated his chair. Dwalin took a hurried step forward, Bilbo's smirk obviously taking a while to sink in. "Oh Master Dwalin I am horrified!" he finally broke the stare off and glanced slowly around the room, " Oh you poor deprived souls." He grinned wickedly and suddenly Kili was moving closer again, and so Bilbo grabbed his wrist managing to pull the younger dwarf down so he could whisper in his ear, "Stop being scared of me dammit I'm a hobbit and you're nearly a foot taller." He released him and smiled innocently at the look of shock on the young dwarf's face. Mind made up he jumped from his seat, "Master Dwalin?" The large dwarf turned his attention from Kili's now confused expression and looked worriedly at his host. Bilbo's grin only deepened. "Give me a hand with the barrel, eh?" With that he tugged the muscular dwarf out of the room leaving a group of shocked dwarves behind them.
"What on …"
"Deadly Bla..."
"I haven't…"
"Were is…"
"Why can…"
"Courting?" the last exclamation had Balin spraying his mouthful of honey mead in a wide arch.
"Excuse me?" he coughed, glaring at Fili. "You did not just ask that," shock colour his tone, before a thoughtful expression settled on his face and his eyes widened as he stared at his oldest nephew, "Really?" he asked tilting his head a wide smile on his face. "Oh that would be good lad, but" he paused and shook his head, killing the answering smile on Fili's face, "I doubt it."
"You doubt what brother?" Dwalin rumble from the doorway, hands holding one end of a large barrel, and a suspicious look on his face. He glared when Balin merely glanced between the hobbit at the other end of the barrel and himself. "Oh stuff it you silly old fool," he huffed, carefully setting his end of the barrel on the ground and stepping back to allow Bilbo to right it.
"Stuff what?" asked Bilbo, (he'd heard some of what Balin had said but not all and was slightly interested,) whipping sweat off his forehead, "Who's a silly old fool?" when Dwalin merely looked back in slight embarrassment he shrugged, "Okay then." He turned his back on the dwarf and scooped up a tankard, checking it was empty, before filling it full, "You might as well finish your drinks before helping yourself to some." He turned a cocky grin on Dwalin, before taking a swallow, "I warn you though it bites," he chuckled clacking his white teeth together.
Dwalin raised his eye brow, he was sure he'd just been challenged in some way, and he was also sure Bilbo had guessed as to what Balin had said. "More than any dwarfen ale Bilbo?" he chuckled, returning the grin and trying a challenge of his own. "I doubt that." He was worried when Bilbo merely shrugged, grin growing wider. He refused to show it and so filled his own empty tankard from the barrel. He eyed the liquid suspiciously, it looked like no ale he had ever tried, although the smell was right. He raised his tankard at his host and took a deep draw, "Sweet Mahl!" he gasped, "That's…Oh Mahl, Why have I never heard of this before?" He glared at Bilbo, "Your folk are a cruel people."
Bilbo smirked at the almost annoyed dwarf, settling his hip on the edge of the table, and taking another swallow, he knew only a few more words were needed to get the rest of the company drinking and hopefully alcohol would at least relax them for the night. "Oh I don't know Master Dwalin," his teeth gleamed white as he talked and mischief danced in his eyes. He eyed the muscular dwarf and cocked his head again, waving a lazy hand at the watching company, "We don't share it because we've found no other race can handle it." He watched in amusement as Dwalin stiffened and the rest of the company cried out in denial. He shrugged and held Dwalin's glare, smiling into grey eyes, uncaring if they relaxed, he could always get drunk with Dwalin (the dwarf had taken his challenge personally) and ignore them. "If that's the case gentlemen, than have at it."
