I'd been flying over Middle-Earth in the form of a hawk, thinking about Thráin, when I found myself face first against a stone hard wall.

Apparently I'd been subconsciously flying towards none other than Erebor.

I only knew that from the outside because I saw a dilapidated town sitting on the lake outside of the mountain, and that small hint made me fly all over the outside of the mountain in search for something small enough to let me in.

I found it on the very top of the mountain through what must have been somebody's old chambers. They obviously belonged to a more wealthy dwarf considering how well decorated it was, and the fact they had a balcony.

Exploring Erebors silent halls was both eerie and exhilarating. Eerie because I knew it should have been teeming with life, like the Blue Mountains had, and exhilarating because I was walking the halls of none other than the Lonely Mountain. The home of my favorite dwarves.

Of course while inside of the mountain I forgot one significant detail that might have saved me a ton of trouble.

I was walking down another unfamiliar hallway when something shiny flashed from the corner of my eye. I looked over to see an open archway that revealed an orange light.

Cautiously walking towards the arch I peeked around the wall to witness something that took my breath away.

Mountains upon mountains of gold, some almost touching the ceiling, covered the floor of the entire room. It wasn't even a room, it was more the size of a football field.

With measured steps I slowly descended down the spiral stone staircase. I made sure to stay away from the sides lest I end up falling to my death.

Just seeing the treasure room should have been enough to remind me there was a gigantic dragon living underneath the mountains of gold and jewels, but instead I was scared to near death when Smaug burst out from the pile directly in front of me. His eyes blazing, a snarl on his lips, and his enormous body hiding the other half of the room.

"Who dare enter my mountain!?" His voice was such a deep baritone that I felt my bones vibrate.

"Forgive me Smaug the–The Terrible! I had completely forgotten that you had taken residence here in this mountain!" My words practically dripped with the amount of fear I was feeling.

"Forgot you say? You forgot that I, Smaug, have plundered this mountain of every living dwarf, and kept it as my own?!" smoke billowed from his nostrils from his anger.

"Please, sir, it was an honest mistake!" I panicked, "What can I do to make it up to you?"

His chest rumbled as he slowly snaked his head around me to observe my every angle, "What is your name small one?"

"I…am called several things," telling him my real name would have been bad, that much I knew, "For now you may call me…Fróthi." It was the first name that came to my mind.

"Fróthi," the word rolled off of Smaugs tongue with ease, "tell me, what are you?"

"Huh?" I felt a little offended.

"You are obviously different from any dwarf or elf I've smelled and eaten," that sent a shiver down my spine, "and while you have the scent of a human it is tainted. By what, I wonder?"

He obviously expected an answer to his question, but I wasn't going to tell him the truth, and a lie would spell my death, "I'm afraid I cannot answer that your greatness."

"Oh?" smoke pulsed from his nose, "And why not?"

"Because people don't usually ask me why I smell weird, and so I never prepared an answer." Probably my worst excuse for anything ever, but if it worked then I wouldn't complain.

He snarled, "Yet you know why you smell different from others of your race!"

I narrowed my eyes at him, "I have a hunch."

"Then you will have no problem with telling me."

He was just so…sure of himself. It irritated me to no end, "Let me rephrase my answer. I don't want to tell you."

A bad idea, "You won't tell me?" His head lifted higher towards the ceiling.

"No."

"Fine," he hissed.

His chest began glowing a dangerous orange color, and I knew I needed to get out of their as soon as I possibly could.

Diving for the nearest pillar I was just in time to miss being burnt to a blackened crisp. Even still the heat of the flames were so bad I was worried my hair had been singed by proximity alone.

Thing quickly I changed into a small bird and flew towards the exit. I could hear Smaug raging behind me, apparently looking for me but not finding me.

When I reached the doorway I turned back into a human, and just to spite him I placed a few handfuls of gold into my pack.

The noise, as small as it was, drew Smaugs attention to where I was standing. "You can have this back if you catch me!" I wiggled my bag before disappearing up the stone steps.

His roar was so loud I saw loose rocks and dust fall from the ceiling. I waited until I was safely out of sight before turning into a bat. It would be much easier navigating the dark mountain as the nocturnal creature, and it blended in better than a mouse would have.

I was lucky enough for Smaug to miss me, and I had to follow the faint scent of clean air to get out of the death trap of a mountain. Even from outside I could hear his angry roars, and I couldn't help but do an internal dance of victory.

As I flew away from the mountain in the form of a Great Eagle I told myself I would never return until I had to. But I soon found myself returning to Erebor once every year until the leather shoulder strap bag I brought with me was filled with gold.

After that last game of cat and mouse, me the mouse and Smaug the cat, I never returned to the mountain for another sixty years.

Now at sixty years since my last visit, I was going to be joining Thorin Oakenshields company to reclaim their lost home. The only problem was that I didn't know the exact day they were coming to get Bilbo from the Shire. So I stayed with a nearby herd of deer while I waited for any sign of dwarves.

Unfortunately for me it turns out staying with deer was much more dangerous than it should have been.

The herd was grazing in the forests surrounding the Shire, and since I technically wasn't a part of them I stayed off to the side. I just kind of stood there and watched them eat the grass beneath their feet. Eating raw fish was one thing, but I was not about to stoop so low as to eat grass. It tasted just like celery, only dirtier.

Since I was watching the deer I was able to see when a few of them lifted their heads with their ears pricked forward. After a moment they returned to their grazing, and I thought nothing of it.

That mistake brought me an arrow to the shoulder.

I shrieked in the only way a deer could, which had all of the others prancing deeper into the forest and out of sight.

The arrow in my shoulder was horribly painful, and stepping with that same hoof was too much to handle. To keep it from spreading down my shoulder and into my leg I changed back into a human. The transformation made the arrow move from the side of my shoulder to my shoulder blades.

The movement ripped another scream of pain from my throat, and I pressed my right hand as close to the arrow as I could get. It lessened the pain after a moment, and I was glaring at the trees surrounding the clearing, "Alright, who did this?"

Nothing moved, and the air was positively still, "There's obviously someone there, who shot me with an arrow! Heaven forbid you went after one of the better deer, oh no, shoot the loner!"

I was grumbling to myself about the idiocy that the culprit held when a rustling from a nearby bush drew my attention.

Coming out from the foliage with his hands in the air, a bow held lightly in one, was a short man with shoulder length brown hair. Stubble covered his chin and upper lip. He was so short that he couldn't be anything other than a dwarf.

A familiar dwarf I haven't seen for decades.

"I," he seemed so confused I had to take pity on him and give him a soft smile, "I'm sorry for shooting you, I didn't know you…weren't a deer."

I sighed, "I suppose it's alright. You didn't know." I tried moving my shoulder, but I stopped with a hiss of pain.

"I'll help you get it out if you'd like?" The dwarf strapped his bow across his back, and gestured to the arrow. "My brother and I set up camp a little ways from here. We can help you there."

With a chuckle I slowly stood up from the ground, "Sounds a little scary. You're a stranger who could be luring me into a trap," my eyes twinkled with amusement.

The dwarf grinned devilishly, "Kíli," he bowed, "at your service." He stood back up with that same little grin, "Now you're the stranger here."

Huffing I raised an eyebrow at him and bowed mockingly, "Amber, at yours."

My suspicions about him being Kíli were correct, and apparently he was now leading me to his blonde brother. Naturally the first dwarves I meet are the same two dwarflings I saved from a snowstorm, and will save again during the Battle of the Five Armies.

We walked into a small campsite where Kíli's brother was sharpening one of his knives. He looked up to greet his brother, but his eyes found me instead, "What's this?" His eyebrows were raised in question.

Kíli sheepishly scratched the back of his head, "You know how I went hunting?" Fíli sighed but nodded, "Well when I shot the deer I ended up shooting Amber." He pointed at me when he said my name.

"You missed the deer and hit Lady Amber instead?" Fíli looked like he was holding back a laugh.

"No," Kíli huffed, "I shot the deer, but the deer turned out to be Amber."

I walked closer to the fire, and sat down at an angle where Fíli would be able to see the arrow protruding from my shoulder blade. "Amber," I nodded my head, "at your service."

"Fíli," he returned the nod, "at yours." He set aside his knife and gestured to the arrow, "May I?"

"Go for it," I removed my hand from my shoulder so the brothers could look at the damage. Thankfully I'd become adept enough to hunt for my own food, so I could now just use a simple leather strap bag that held a change of clothes, some water, trinkets I've collected, and my leather cloak rolled up on top.

I felt their fingers gently prodding around the area the arrow had sunken into when one set of hands paused. Soon afterwards the other set paused as well. I began wondering what they were doing, "What's wrong?"

One of them cleared their throat, "Where did you get the beads in your hair?" It was Fíli.

"Um, which ones?" Now that I thought about it I had quite a few beads. The one Aulë gave me and the ones from Thráin. "The ones in your, uh, main braid." Kíli would have held them out for me to see if it wasn't such an invasion of privacy. For a dwarf that is.

"They were left to me by a close friend," I absently pet the end of the braid hanging over my right shoulder. My hair was so long now that it could wrap around my shoulders like a scarf.

After a moment the hands returned to my shoulder, but more hesitant this time. Their reactions were understandable since their family crest was most likely carved on a few of the beads.

"The only thing we can do is pull it out and wrap it up with something." Fíli wrapped one hand around the arrow while laying the other one on my shoulder, "This is going to hurt."

Kíli dug through his bag, and when he didn't find what he was looking for brought the whole thing over to us. "Here," he held out the straps of his bag, "bite down on this."

"No, I don't want to ruin your bag." Carefully removing the strap of my own bag from my shoulder I brought it to my mouth, "I'll use my own." Biting down on the leather I nodded my head to Fíli so he knew I was ready.

I felt something grab my hand, and when I looked to see what it was a searing pain shot through my shoulder. My eyes squeezed shut, and my teeth clamped down hard enough to leave marks in the leather.

When the pain finally faded away I slowly opened my eyes, and blinked until the purple spots disappeared. My hand was starting to cramp from the grip I had, and I saw that I was holding onto Kíli's hand. I immediately let it go, "Sorry."

He shrugged, "Don't worry about it." If he were a man he would be rubbing his hand in pain, but dwarves were much more sturdy.

With one hand I started rummaging through my bag until I found my black shirt that reminded me of pirates, and a red vest. After contemplating whether or not to change in the forest I decided, meh, and started untying the green vest I was currently wearing.

"What are you doing?" Kíli sounded alarmed.

"Well for starters," I gently peeled the vest over my injured shoulder, "we need to bind it, and we can't do that while I'm still wearing my shirt. And second," I removed my white shirt that was now stained red from my blood, "they're covered in my blood. I need to change and wash them."

I could see Fíli shrug from the corner of my eye, "She's right you know."

Kíli huffed and grumbled for his brother to "shut up."

Fíli started bandaging the wound with strips of white cloth that he pulled from who-knows-where, and when he was done they helped me into my other clothes. Then when we were finished he tied a long strip of cloth into a sling, and placed it over my head before sticking my arm through it.

"Well," Fíli wiped his hands of any blood that might have gotten on them, "this was a waste." He started throwing dirt into the fire.

"What was a waste?" As painful as this was, it wasn't a waste for me. I found two very important dwarves.

"We stopped here so we could have something other than dried jerky and stale crackers, but instead of getting dinner Kíli got you instead," it would have been a rude remark had he not been smirking slyly.

I sniffed in mock offense, "I'm much better than any normal deer. You should be honored by my presence."

The brothers chuckled, and they set off for the Shire with me tagging along. "So what are you boys doing here in the Shire?" I already knew, but to the, I'm not supposed to.

Fíli responded, "We're looking for a hobbit."

"Oh?" I raised a brow, "Which hobbit."

"Bilbo Boggins," Kíli stated.

I snorted at the mispronunciation, "It's Baggins Kíli." They didn't seem to recognize the surname. Understandable for Kíli since he was young, but Fíli should have known.

"You know Mister Baggins?" Fíli asked.

"Yes actually. He's a good friend of mine." I had taken it upon myself to become well acquainted with the peaceful hobbit. He would always insist on giving me food once he found out I had no home, and for payment I told him about my adventures, and sometimes buy a few things for him from the market. Bilbo looked exactly as I remembered him to be, even with my fading memory

"Do you think you could lead us there?" Kíli sounded rather excited.

"Of course."

Fíli hummed while looking at the setting sun, "We'll be there earlier than we planned. Probably because we didn't get to eat a proper dinner." He shot an accusing look at his brother.

"Hey!" Kíli shouted indignantly, "I'll have you know it was Amber's fault!"

"Oh sure," my time was full of sarcasm, "blame the cripple."

Fíli shook his head mockingly, "Shame on you Kíli, for blaming a poor, defenseless woman."

I immediately stopped walking, "You did not just call me poor and defenseless."

Fíli smirked, "What are you gonna do about it? You said so yourself, you're crippled."

A feral snarl emerged from deep within my throat, and the brothers watched in astonishment as my body burst into fur, and my bones grotesquely morphed until I was in the form of a lioness.

To keep the scare factor I lightly pressed my arm against the ground, but didn't apply any pressure.

"But, but you were a deer," Kíli sounded so astonished I couldn't stop the purring laugh.

I shifted back into a human, and was thankful to see the sling was actually still in place, "I can turn into any animal I've seen before."

The brothers were looking at me with amazement,mans exclaimed at the same time, "That's amazing!"

The rest of our journey through the Shire was spent explaining my ability to shift into animals. The concept was so foreign since nobody else in Middle-Earth was able to do it. They wanted to know everything they possibly could, and what animal that was.

Lions were another animal that didn't live on this continent.

We reached the round green door a few minutes after the sun had set, and the three of us saw a glowing blue rune carved into the wood. If my Khuzdul was right then it meant burglar.

"We're pretty early," we observed the quiet hill with warm light filtering from the window.

"Probably the first to arrive," Kíli commented.

Dismissing their comments I strode up to the door and knocked three times (loudly) before opening the door, "Bilbo you here?!" The brothers shared a look before following me into the hobbit-hole.

A voice sounded from farther in the cozy home, "Amber, is that you?"

"Yeah! Come on out, I've got some visitors for yah."

Bilbo stepped out of his dining room and gave me a friendly smile, "It's good to see you Amber. I just finished cooking up some fish, would you like any?"

"Don't trouble yourself Bilbo," I sent him a smile of my own, "I can eat later."

He opened his mouth to argue with me, like he usually does when it comes to food, when he spotted the two dwarves behind me, "Who is this?"

Fíli stepped forward, "Fíli," Kíli stepped up next to his brother, "and Kíli," they bowed in unison, "at your service."

Bilbo was looking at the two dwarves in his home with a mix of curiosity and weariness, "Bilbo Baggins, at yours."

We were all standing around in awkward silence when there was a knock at the door. Bilbo volunteered to get it while I led Fíli and Kíli into the dining room where Bilbo's plate of fish was sitting on the table.

"So that's the hobbit," Fili mused to his brother.

Kíli hummed, "Doesn't look like much does he? Too soft."

I overheard their conversation, and felt a surge of protectiveness, "Bilbo is a good man, and a close friend," the boys quieted at my words, "and it would be wise of you not to underestimate him."

The conversation ended when another dwarf wandered into the room. He had two battle axes strapped to his back, and ino tattooed onto his bald head.

The boys confirmed my suspicions on who it was when they cheerfully called, "Dwalin!"

"Ah, boys!"

The three dwarves pulled each other into rough hugs, slapping each other on the backs. I concluded that the three of them were very well aquatinted, but how I wasn't sure.

"And who might this be?" Dwalin looked me up and down with his hands clasped behind his back, "Mrs. Baggins?"

I snorted, "He wishes."

Bilbo could be heard choking out in the hallway while the brothers laughed. "I'm afraid we ran into her on the outskirts of the Shire."

"Well," Fili grinned at his brother, "we wouldn't have had you not shot her with an arrow."

Kíli growled and wrestled his brother to the ground while Dwalin finally seemed to realize the sling on my shoulder wasn't for show. He didn't say anything about it, but Bilbo was certainly worried, "Good gracious, Amber! Are you quite alright?"

"I'm fine Bilbo," I waved away his worries with the hand that wasn't stuck in the sling. "Amber," I bowed to Dwalin, "at your service."

He raised a bushy eyebrow but bowed back, "Dwalin, at yours." Dwalin noticed the plate of fish on the dining table, and happily dropped onto the chair to dig into what was supposed to be Bilbo's dinner. Fíli and Kíli were still rolling about on the floor.

The doorbell suddenly rang for the second time that night, and I followed after Bilbo to see who it was–not before nearly tripping over the boys. I altered my vocal chords into those of a lion, and growled at them. Partial transformations were something I began teaching myself after Thráin died, and I got pretty good.

My eyes focused on the white haired dwarf in the doorway, but I could hear the brawl pause from behind as the boys struggled back to their feet.

"Balin," the white haired dwarf bowed to Bilbo, "at your service."

Bilbo was stuck staring at yet another dwarf, "Good evening."

Balin looked at the sky, "Yes, yes it is." He ducked inside of the hobbit hole, "Though, I think it might rain later." After his comment his eyes found mine, and a friendly smile lit up his features, "Are you Mrs. Baggins?"

I closed my eyes with a patient sigh, "Afraid not. I'm Amber," I bowed, "at your service."

He nodded, "Balin, at yours. Forgive me for my mistake."

"Don't worry about it, you're not the first."

Balin looked between the two of us with a serious expression, "Am I late?"

I stepped forward, "Quite the opposite Master Balin. Your the fourth to arrive."

"Thank you kindly, Lady Amber." Balin looked into the sitting room to his right and saw his brother with his hand stuck in a cookie jar. I had to smother a laugh at the sight of such a tough dwarf failing to get a cookie. Thankfully the urge melted away when he was able to pull his hand out of the jar.

"Evening brother," he sauntered towards his brother while Bilbo and I were left to watch their exchange.

"By my beard," Dwalin set the jar down on a nearby table, "You're shorter and wider then last we met."

"Wider, not shorter. Sharp enough for both of us." They laughed together as they clasped shoulders, and I completely forgot that they smashed their foreheads together in welcome. They seemed completely unaffected, but I rubbed my own forehead as if feeling the pain for them.

Bilbo stepped forward to say something, but was interrupted when Fíli and Kíli pushed passed us to greet the new dwarf warmly. I laid a comforting hand on Bilbo's shoulder as we followed Dwalin and Balin to the pantry while Fíli and Kíli disappeared somewhere deeper into the hobbit hole.

The two older dwarves were having their own side conversation as Bilbo tried to politely lay down the law. I contented myself with leaning against the doorframe and watching the poor hobbit try and gain some authority.

"It's not like I don't like visitors. I–I like visitors as much as the next…hobbit. But I do like to know them before they come," Bilbo briefly paused to think of the best word to use, "visiting."

I snorted at his brilliance, and he sent me a glare for my complete lack of help.

"The thing is, um," he turned back to the two dwarves contemplating the appearance of moldy cheese, when really it's just blue cheese, "The thing is, I don't know either of you," he watched as his cheese was carelessly thrown into the hall, "in the slightest." He turned back to his pantry, "I don't mean to be blunt, but I uh, I had to speak my mind," Bilbo raised his hands, "I'm sorry."

Dwalin and Balin looked at Bilbo at the same moment, and Bilbo awkwardly cleared his throat from the sudden attention. After a moment Balin nodded his head, "Apology accepted."

They returned to ignoring our presence, and I chuckled at Bilbo's baffled expression. "Come on Bilbo," I wrapped my free arm around his shoulders and led him into the dining room where we found Fíli and Kíli rearranging the table.

Just as he opened his mouth to try and tell them off Balin and Dwalin pushed passed us. "Well have to shove this in the hall, otherwise we'll never get everyone in," Balin ordered.

"Everyone? How many more are there?"

As if by magic the doorbell chimed once again. Bilbo slipped under my arm and looked at the door, "Oh no." He started walking towards his front door, "No, no, there's nobody home!"

I would have stayed to help move the table, but with one arm out of commission I decided to trail after Bilbo. My grin couldn't be held back as he yelled at whoever it was that rang his doorbell.

"Go away, and bother somebody else! There are far to many dwarves," he jerked his thumb in the direction of his dining room, "in my dining room as it is. I–If this is some, clot heads idea of a joke, then I can only say," he turned the door knob, "it is very poor taste."

As soon as the door was opened a large pile of dwarves fell into the threshold of the home. Bilbo was stuck staring at the sudden onslaught with astonishment while I let out a warm chuckle at the sight.

I hadn't felt this alive in years.

Bilbo looked up from the pile to a tall man dressed in a grey cloak with a wooden staff, the only one not to have fallen in. A good thing too because I wasn't sure if his old bones would be able to take it.

Bilbo was looking at the man with relief and resignation, "Gandalf."

The name sparked a sense of familiarity, and when I all of the dwarves freed themselves from their unintentional dog pile the grey wizard ducked into the home. I'd never met the man during my time in Middle-Earth, and I felt excitement well up inside of me.

Each dwarf introduced themselves in the same way Balin had, by stating their name and bowing, before moving on to me and asking if I was his wife. By the time they'd all moved further into the house I was completely fed up having to correct them all that, no, I was not his wife.

Almost immediately the dwarves found Bilbo's pantry, and he sternly told each one of them to put back the food they were carrying, but was ignored every time.

"Why hello there," an elderly voice sounded from my left, and I looked over, then up, to see Gandalf staring at me with kind blue eyes, "who might you be?"

"I'm Amber. A friend of Bilbo's," I tacked on that last part in case Gandalf decided to question my relationship with Bilbo as well.

"Ah," our conversation tapered off as we stepped forward to help the dwarves set the table. I thought it would be best to just set the silverware since I only had one useable hand. I've never realized how much I needed that hand before I now.

As they say, you never know what you had until you've lost it.

A dwarf by the name of Dori stepped up to Gandalf, and politely offered a cup of tea. He refused with the request for a glass of red wine. He moved to start counting everybody present when it was pointed out that Thorin wasn't there. "Yes, we appear to be one dwarf short."

"He's late is all," Dwalin had a mug of ale in his hands, "He travelled north to a meeting with our kin. He will come."

Dori came up with a small wine glass filled with red wine, and Gandalf took it with thanks. Unfortunately for him that glass was more the size of a shot, and he downed the whole thing in one gulp. He went to drink more, but adopted a forlorn look when he realized it was empty.

The dwarves all moved to take seats at the table, and piled food on top of their plates. From my place beside Bilbo I could see various foods being thrown about. I carefully snuck around them to fill up an extra plate before setting it aside in the kitchen.

I retook my place beside Bilbo. "This is quite the merry gathering," I commented.

"Merry ga–Amber there are dwarves in my house! What are they doing here?"

"Only time will tell my friend." Of course I knew why they were here, but I wasn't about to tell him why. He would find out eventually, just not quite yet.

He shook his head and went to observe the pantry–only to discover that every item of food he owned was pilfered from it. I looked over his shoulder to survey the damage, and I couldn't help but shake my head. As fun as these dwarves were their manners were severely lacking.

A loud burping contest sounded from behind us. This was the moment when I could physically see Bilbo's temper reach new heights.

After the dwarves finished their meal I stayed close to the covered plate of food to make sure none of the word sniff it out and eat it. This was when Bilbo none-too-gently ripped a hole filled fabric from a dwarfs hands, "Excuse me that is a doily, not, a dishcloth."

Bofur looked at him with confusion, "But it's full of holes."

"Yes it's supposed to look like that, it's crochet," he began folding the "doily".

"Oh, and a good game it is too. If you've got than balls for it," I snorted loudly, catching Bofur's attention. He sent me a wink, and I grinned back.

Gandalf found Bilbo rubbing his forehead tiredly, "My dear Bilbo, what on earth is the matter?"

I gave the wizard a look because, really? Did he seriously just ask that?

"What's the matter?" Bilbo followed the tall wizard, "I'm surrounded, by dwarves. What are they doing in my home?" he demanded.

"Oh they're quite a merry gathering," Gandalf watched as two dwarves started fighting over a strip sausage links, "once you get used to them."

"I don't want to get used to them!"

I shoved the plate of food onto a shelf too high for the dwarves to reach, and followed after the duo to continue listening in on their conversation.

"The state of my kitchen! There's mud," Bilbo pointed to the floor, "trod in the carpet. The–they pillaged the pantry! I'm not even going to tell you what they've done on the bathroom, they've all but destroyed the plumbing."

I wrinkled my nose at that, and made a mental note that should I need to go I should travel to the Gamgee's. They'd be nice enough to let me use theirs.

"I don't understand what they're doing in my house!" Bilbo's voice raised at each word that came tumbling out of his mouth, and I stepped forward to lay a hand on his tense shoulders.

At that moment Ori walked up to Bilbo with his dirty plate in hand, "Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?" I couldn't help but smile at the adorableness that was Ori.

Fíli chose that moment to make his presence known, "Here you go Ori, give it to me." He snatched the plate from Ori's hands and threw it down the hall.

Kíli was just in time to catch it and whip it into the room behind him. Another plate was thrown, and the cycle continued.

Silverware was soon flying all over the room, and I racked my brain trying to remember this part of the story. When I realized what part we were at I grinned wickedly.

"Excuse me!" Bilbo was pointing at his flying dishes, "That's my mothers West Farthing pottery; it's over a hundred years old!"

The dwarves paid him no attention as they continued tossing plates and cups into the kitchen, and making a beat with the silverware.

"And–And can you not do that? You'll blunt them!"

I sighed, Oh Bilbo, stuttering won't get them to listen. I would have tried stopping them if I didn't want to hear the song.

"Oh'd you here that lads?" Bofur asked, "He said well blunt the knives."

Kíli started singing, "Blunt the knives, bend the forks,"

Fíli picked up the tune, "Smash the bottles, and burn the corks,"

"Chip the glasses, and crack the plates," Óin joined in even with his ear trumpet.

Every dwarf started singing, "That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"

"Cut the cloth, tread on the. Leave the bones in the bedroom mat! Pour the milk on the pantry floor…Splash the wine on every door!" No matter how much I wanted to join in by throwing some silverware I couldn't. I didn't have that much finesse, "Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl, pound them up with a thumping pole, when they're finished if they are whole, send them down the hall to roll!" There was a small interlude where they just kept dancing and kicking around the silverware before singing the last line, "That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"

Bilbo shoved himself into the room, and they all laughed at his astonished expression. I had to admit I was pretty impressed as well.

The fun was abruptly interrupted when three loud knocks echoed from the front door. Everybody grew silent and looked in the direction where the knocks originated.

Gandalf removed his pipe from his mouth, "He is here."

AN: I had so much fun writing this that I'm already going to start writing the next chapter.