AN: I do not own the hobbit, its characters or places. I merely decided to play with them one day.
I will eventually explain what makes the Black Ale of the Shire so special, just not yet, I'm going to have some fun with it first.
There will be drunkenness in this chapter, and smoking so if this offends you please don't be mad at me…well too much.
FanFiction Queen: ooo good ideas, I want to try Dori on pepperoni hot :D. hehe the night is just getting started.
Chapter Nine – An Unexpected Party.
Dwalin and Bilbo were facing each other across one of the tall side tables that had been dragged in from the sitting room. Bilbo's hands were braced on the table's surface and Dwalin's were gripping the edges of his chair. Ori looked between the two and sighed. His fear of Master Baggins hadn't lasted until the hobbit had taken Nori's cat-call with a smile and downed a whole tankard of the mind-binding ale with ease and even bowed slightly at the end. Somehow he was now playing mediator to a drinking completion between Mister Dwalin and Master Baggins, and was very confused how he'd ended up being allowed to do it or why he'd agreed to do it. He glanced around the room taking a sip from his own tankard and watching what everyone else was doing. Gloin and Oin seemed to be playing some sort of betting game, if the carved stones between them were any indication. Ori stifled a snicker at Nori and Dori, choking on the inhale from his pipe as he did. His middle brother had been standing on a chair holding both Dori's and his own tankards out of reach of the oldest Ri brother, when Dori had gotten bored and simply tipped him from the chair catching both full tankards and Nori before they had hit the floor, the chair he'd caught on his foot, inches between its carved back and the floor. Bombur was still more interested in the food than the ale and was sitting at the table between his brother and cousin alternating sips of his ale with bites from different platters of food. Beside him Bofur was leaning back, eyes half closed and playing a merry tune of his hand pipe, Ori blushed when he caught the tune and despite himself glanced worriedly at their host, then sighed in relief to see he was still scowling at Dwalin. Ori looked back at the Ur family and stared confused at Mister Bifur. The toy maker was sitting of the edge of the table gesturing wildly about the excellent food, while eating the flowers that had been in vases on the table and side board when they arrived. Ori shut his eyes and rubbed his temples, that was just, he really had no words which was a worry in itself. He determinedly looked elsewhere, catching sight of Fili and Kili through the door into the sitting room. They were lying in front of the fire on what seemed to be a rug (Ori had read about them and was now itching to go and examine it), cuddled in to each other and apparently asleep. Half full tankards were balanced haphazardly on the edge of the hearth. Chuckling Ori looked around to find the last present member of their company and bit his lip. Mister Balin was sitting glaring at the group as he nursed his own tankard and a pipe of sweet smelling leaf, yet Ori could see amusement behind the older dwarf's eyes. "Dammit Master Baggins!" he all but screamed when a loud bang had him jumping and spilling his ale. He realised the hobbit had just downed another tankard of the ale and the bang had been him slamming the mug back down. Ori looked at Mister Dwalin and caught the almost awed expression on the older dwarf's face, before determination settled into the grey eyes. He sighed, he was in for a long night.
Nori was, after his heart-stopping journey to the floor, sitting quietly next to his older brother, and blowing rather wobbly smoke rings. The pipe weed was more fragrant and of much better quality than he was used to, it seemed to swirl in distinctive spiral patterns, bathing the room in a blue haze, through which the candle light danced. His thin lips smiled around the stem of his pipe at that thought, the ale was obviously going to his head and he knew if he opened his mouth he would end up spouting nonsense, or worse still start singing. He tilted his head, as the high pitched sounds of Mister Bofur's hand pipe were joined by the miner's lilting voice. He closed his eyes and listened carefully, and-although he didn't know it-swaying slightly in time with the music. He put the tankard carefully on the floor and pulled his flute out from its place on his belt. He recognised the music and soon the mellow notes of the wooden flute twined with the existing song.
Across the dining room Bofur had watched the angular dwarf get caught up in his music and he was surprised and pleased when he was joined in his song. He followed the song through to its conclusion, barely pausing before he changed the tempo of the music and watched in amusement as, despite his noticeably drunken state, Mister Nori followed with ease. Bofur could feel a grin starting on his face and his voice became surer, and he allowed his accent more pronounced for the first time in company. His own eyes slid shut as he continued to play and sing, accompanied by a relative stranger.
Bombur paused in his pursuit of eating and drinking to look around the room, bar the guardsman he had been the first to relax around their host but now everyone seemed mellow. He smiled as he listened to what his cousin was actually saying, before turning an incredulous look on the toy maker. He could not let those thoughts stand, he would be making the older dwarf try some of Master Baggins' fine cooking rather than just eating the flowers. Determinedly he stood pushing his own plate aside before starting to fill a platter from the selection of food still left in the room.
Bifur hadn't realised anyone had been paying attention to his verbal drivel over how nice the flowers were until he was taken to task by Bombur. Secretly pleased he allowed his cousin to bully him into trying several of the dishes in front of him. He was happily drunk of the hobbit's dark, black, herby ale and perfectly content to be fed. He lit his pipe and took a draw, swaying on his table top perch as the fragrant smoke filled his lungs. He tucked into the pile of food Bombur placed in front of him with gusto, pipe in one hand he alternated bites of food, draws on his tankard of ale and lung-fulls of sweet pipe-weed. His eyes twinkled and his lips twitched behind his beard as he looked across at the drinking competition, he was beginning to like their host.
Dori was sitting on the floor, legs outstretched and leaning back on his hands. His eyes were closed and he was relaxed even as he realised he was acting younger than he had in years. He was partly ashamed that he had broken down earlier, but it had gotten him a hug off his middle brother and that was something he had thought would never happen again. He was full and warm, and he suspected the ale had more kick than taste, but he was quite happy to be drinking it among friends. He opened his eyes and idly eyed the Ur family as he heard Nori's flute join the oldest Ur's song, he should probably stop them as that song was not fit for singing in a home, but it was too nice to be warm and full, with his brothers safe. He closed his eyes again, lay down and smiled blindly at the ceiling.
Bilbo was enjoying himself thoroughly now. His guests had finally relaxed, Ori seemed unafraid of him and Dwalin had accepted his challenge. The reputation of the Shire hung on his own ability to handle his drink, but he had company and there was laughter and music in his smial.
Dwalin was amazed at himself. He hadn't let himself act this young since he was at Erebore, since way before the worm came. Yet he was sitting across from his host, staring into hazel-green eyes and involved in a drinking completion. He knew he was competitive but he had to impress his host having accepted the challenge given to him, especially after throwing down his own gauntlet. He knew he was close to getting drunk, but despite Bilbo slightly slurring his words earlier and the giggle fit, the hobbit wasn't slowing down. Dwalin grinned across the table, and felt almost gleeful when he got a wink in response. He knew Ori was keeping tabs on the contest, but his whole focus was on Bilbo. Dwalin flexed his fingers, before curling them around the handle of his tankard. He knew his eyes were sparkling and the smile on his face should worry him, but he was having fun. He watched in admiration as his host downed another tankard, throwing his own wink before copying the action. He leaned back in the chair as Ori refilled the tankards, his unbooted feet crossed under the table, he felt relaxed and at peace again, he could happily repeat this part of the evening over and over, maybe he could get Thorin to rest here a while before they headed to Erebore. His grin softened into a smile, and he fell asleep in the chair.
Ori's delighted laugh drew the attention of all the company (bar Fili and Kili who were still asleep in front of the sitting room fire). The dwarves stared at a peacefully sleeping Dwalin and a shocked Bilbo. They watched as the hobbit turned his head to get confirmation from Ori as if he couldn't believe it. At Ori's head nod he smiled widely, before his gaze landed on Dwalin and his smile softened. Deciding they would get no drama from watching the two, the company turned back to do their own things Ori slipped away to join his brothers.
Bilbo waited until the last dwarf's back was turned before hiccupping slightly. He pushed to his feet carefully and was glad when he found his legs still worked. He must have stopped before the half that would knock his balance and walking ability for six. Checking the room and failing to notice Balin watching he slipped around the table and leant slightly over Dwalin, placing a hand on the dwarf's shoulder to try and wake him. Grey eyes peered at him and he took in their un-focus and sighed, before gently helping the dwarf to his feet. He arranged Dwalin's muscular arm around his shoulders and slipping one of his own arms around Dwalin's waist led the dwarf out of the kitchen door. He was relieved to find that despite Dwalin's sleepy state the dwarf was somewhat capable of supporting his own weight and could generally walk-if Bilbo steered him. Unaware of Balin slipping along behind them he led Dwalin back to the guestroom he'd given the dwarf on his first night. It took some skill on Bilbo's part but he managed to get the door open without Dwalin slipping to the floor. He steered the dwarf to the bad and somehow convinced the larger man to get between the sheets, groaning when he went to pull away and found himself trapped by a large hand gripping his undervest. "Oh come on Master Dwalin, le'go." He muttered in amusement.
Balin watched the scene from the shadows of the doorway, unsure what to make of what he was seeing. He did smirk when he heard his brother's deep rumbling voice, "No, warm," muffled by the pillow and softened by drink. Balin watched as their host tried to untangle himself from the grip, and was just about to step forward to offer his aid when Bilbo stopped twisting, huffed and eyed his brother grumpily. Balin froze torn between wanting to go to his brother's aid or slip further back into the shadows, and so Bilbo's next move took him by surprise. He gasped silently as instead of getting annoyed, Bilbo somehow managed to slip out of his undervest, leaving the clothing in Dwalin's grip and himself bare-chested. Since he had his back to Balin the old dwarf's night eyes were able to catch sight of three ragged scars running down the hobbit's back. He felt tears well up in his eyes as he thought what could have caused wounds bad enough to leave those marks, and was nearly caught when Bilbo turned to leave the room. Only years of practice and the fact Bilbo turned back to face Dwalin, allowed him to slip away unnoticed. He slipped back into the dining room, walking aimlessly to sit in the sitting room with his sleeping nephews.
Bilbo had turned to leave Dwalin to sleep, when he heard the dwarf mutter something. He'd turned back to see the large male curled into a ball, hugging the undervest under his chin and a frown. Bilbo felt himself smile gently and he stepped back to run a soothing hand over the still perfectly braided hair. He sat on the edge of the bed, "Rest master Dwalin," he whispered, "You do not have to worry here." Bilbo bit his lips and closed his eyes in pained recognition as the dwarf relaxed under his hand and snuggled closer at the sound of his voice. "Sleep Master Dwalin. I won't let anything hurt you." A shout of laugh tore Bilbo's attention away from the now gently snoring dwarf. He sighed and stood, yet was unable to tear his eyes away from how young Dwalin looked when asleep, "I suppose I should find a shirt and get them all a place to sleep," he muttered as he finally tore his eyes away.