Coming Home

~insanity and co~

Chapter Fourteen: "In A Just World, My Pants Would Be On Fire."

"...and then there is the birthday of Adelard Took in early summer. That is always a large party with more food than we could possibly eat. Filibert Bolger is one of the oldest in the Shire, so his birthday is quite a surprise each year, actually."

The more I listened, the more I wanted to turn around and run right back to the Shire. Before I only had the image of the pleasant town in my head of rolling hills and people who loved food and comfort, but now I was hearing about their festivals and how happy Bilbo seemed to be just talking about his home. I wanted to be that happy talking about home! He wasn't just missing it at the moment - he genuinely loved it.

Bilbo sat with his legs crossed and a pipe hanging from his mouth, eyes glazed and a faint smile on his face, a contrast to the worried or concern expression he always seemed to have. He was usually baffled or disoriented by something (usually at the hands of the dwarves) but here in Rivendell, comfortable by the fire and a full belly, he was almost a completely different hobbit.

We sat in front of the fire late at night, having enjoyed exploring Rivendell earlier that day and personally, I was tired from climbing all of their massive steps. If the elves had ever tried to stop the dwarves from relighting the fire on their marble floors, I hadn't heard it, and when the sun started to go down on the elven city the Company had relit the probably-illegal fire.

"How old is he?"

"One hundred and nine years old."

"Jesus, I can't imagine ever living that long," I said, turning to Cody who was staring down at the fire with a frown...quite the opposite of my own mood. "What's eating you?"

"Nothing, I'm just tired."

I shrugged and faced Bilbo again. "We have big parties on the 16th and 21st birthdays, but I think that's about it."

"Why the 16th?"

"It's called a Sweet 16...sort of like a coming-of-age except they're still young. Not everybody has one...it's more of a "princess-y" thing, I think."

"So you do have Kings and Queens and Princesses?" Bilbo took the pipe out of his mouth for just a moment to ask.

"No, no," I said quickly, realizing that I had to think a bit more before blurting out whatever I wanted. "We don't have any of those - well, wait, we do. We have just a few but not in our country. I guess calling someone a princess or "your highness" is more of a sarcastic thing...like they think they are so high and noble when they're not." Bilbo looked confused but didn't push and I felt at a loss because explaining was not my strong-suit. "I call him a princess sometimes."

I nudged Cody and expected a smile (at the very least!) but he moved just a bit from my elbow and did nothing else.

"Okay, princess, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Something's wrong."

"No, nothing's wrong and I just don't want to be badgered!" It all came out in a yell and Bilbo's smile slid off his face before Cody had even finished. Sometimes when he would yell at me I would either walk away or yell back; and I was in no mood to go find somewhere else to sit and chat just because he was being pissy.

I replied just as sharply, "How is this badgering? There's something up with you and I'm asking what it is. If you'd just answer me I'd stop."

"I'll go get us some tea or something," Bilbo said awkwardly, standing and quickly leaving the fireplace.

"She's already got a home!" Cody shouted that at Bilbo's back and I watched the shorter man pause for just a second and then continue out of the room. I saw a few of the dwarves that had been sitting near the balcony glance in our direction, so I continued in a hushed hiss.

"Is that was this is about? You think I'm going to replace Seattle with the Shire?" The thought had crossed my mind (it was a little embarrassing how tempting that was) but I was pissed that he was calling me out on it, and in front of the Company!

"Yes, that's what this is about," he hissed right back, that blank expression finally replaced with something - fury. He had seriously been furious about this? All because Bilbo was telling me stories?

"I'm not going to run away to the Shire."

"Why not? You don't exactly want to be here." That felt a little low, seeing as he was talking loud enough for the dwarves to hear us clearly.

"Well it wasn't my idea to come. That's on you." I pointed a finger at him but he brushed it away with a scoff.

"Then why did you?"

"Because of you, you idiot!"

"I didn't ask you to follow me!"

"You didn't have to! Someone needs to keep your head out of your ass, 'cause God knows you can't do that yourself." At this he got up and stormed off, leaving the room silent except for the hushed whispers of the dwarves and the cracking of the fire.

I slumped down and rested my cheek on my fist, turning away from the dwarves when I saw Bofur come over. Everything had come rushing out of my mouth so fast I didn't have a second to think about what I was saying. Of course, part of why I came was to make sure Cody was alright but there was a part of me that was curious about this adventure, world, and people (preferably no more orcs, though). But all the dwarves would have heard was that I came because of Cody.

"I'm not going to just leave," I muttered before Bofur could even sit down across from the fire, where Bilbo had been sitting.

"I know." I had expected a harsh tone but he was calm, understanding, and I immediately felt my anger fade away. It left me with guilt - an uncomfortable aftertaste to the argument.

"How do you know? None of you guys know us at all and I still don't understand why you even let us come."

"Can't say I know why either," he said with a shrug. "But you two signed a contract to bind you to the Company. I wouldn't take you as a liar, lass."

That struck something in me and I kept my mouth shut tight. I had already said more than I meant to with Cody, and now would not be the time to confide in a dwarf I didn't even know that I was, in fact, a liar. I was a little surprised my pants hadn't caught fire. I had initially lied to Cody when he was drunk but I didn't exactly come forth when he woke up the next morning after me - hungover as all hell to boot.

"Here, some tea," Bilbo said with a smile, coming back into the room with a heavy teapot and a few cups (complete with sugar and milk, to my pleasure) on a tray that looked several times too big for his hands. "Would you like some, Bofur?"

"No, never been one for tea, myself. Unless it's spiced up," he added with a wink and a grin.

Bilbo sat and poured a cup for the two of us, passing mine over and sliding the tray across the ground so I could fix mine just how I liked it.

"Sorry about Cody," I muttered, low enough so that the dwarves by the balcony couldn't hear us.

"Oh, you don't have to apologize. Home can be a touchy subject to everyone on this quest," Bilbo said, glancing around the room. "Perhaps we can find something else to talk about."

To be honest, there wasn't much for us to talk about except home. Where did I work? That required a bit of background information because "Starbucks" didn't cut it and apparently they don't have coffee shops in Middle Earth. Where did I live? Well that was obviously about home and Bilbo's face glowed red for asking that one.

There was a long silence where me and Bilbo sipped our tea - far too hot still, even with milk - and Bofur just watched the fire.

"So does everyone in a family have rhyming names?" I felt a little proud for asking this, as it was something I had thought about every once in a while but never at a time where I could ask. That, and it steered the conversation away from the Shire and Seattle.

"Not all the time, but it is common practice amongst dwarves. Bifur's my cousin, and Bombur is my brother. Fili and Kili are brothers, obviously." Bofur nodded to where the two were sitting with their heads together, as it always seemed to be. "Oin and Gloin are brothers; Ori, Dori and Nori too. Dwalin and Balin as well."

So everyone here was with some sort of family.

"What about Thorin?"

"He had a brother, but he passed away long ago. His sister, Dis - Kili and Fili's mother - still lives in the Blue Mountains with much of my own kin."

"So there are women here," I said with a grin. "This is the first I'm hearing of it."

"There aren't many in the race of dwarves," Gandalf's voice made me jump. I hadn't even seen him enter the room, which was a little worrisome as I was facing the only door! He leaned his staff against the wall and slowly (with groaning that reminded me of my grandfather) found a seat between Bofur and myself. "Which has lead to the myth that dwarf women don't actually exist."

"How is that even a myth?!" I laughed out. "They have to exist."

"Well, some have believed that dwarves are born out of stone." I chuckled a little at this, imagining a nude, hairy baby jumping out of stones with axes and weapons in hand. I shook my head because that was almost as bad as the image of the dwarves in the fountain, which was now burned into my memory whether I liked it or not (and I definitely didn't).

"Our women don't leave the mountains often. I suppose that when they do they are mistaken for dwarf men. An excellent way to camouflage, if you ask me."

I turned to Gandalf, hoping for a little more of an explanation than Bofur offered on how all of their women could possible look manly enough to pass as men.

"It's the beard," he whispered, stroking his own long one. "And the clothes. And the build."

"So everybody had beards? Even the women?" Now that was something I might have to see to believe. A whole race of large, muscly, bearded women!

"Some just have stubble, or a little on the sides," Bofur said with a grin, taking out his own pipe and taking a small stick from the fire to light it. "Bombur's wife has a full beard almost down to her waist, bright red and straight. She's really quite beautiful amongst dwarves."

"Bombur's got himself a hot wife?" I asked, feeling bad for being so shocked. I had only imagined him with someone like Mrs. Clause; anyone else except an equally as jolly and...well, large woman just didn't suit my image of the larger dwarf.

Bofur just laughed at my reaction and Gandalf chuckled, letting out a long stream of smoke to mingle with the smoke from the fire. We finished our tea and soon Gandalf disappeared from the balcony as suddenly and silently as he had come, leaving just a faint trail of smoke out the only doorway behind him.

"So, like this?" I asked, proud because I was only a little out of breath, lunging forward and awkwardly stabbing at Bilbo. I say "awkwardly" because how can one comfortably take a serious swing at someone they don't want to hurt? I aimed a little to the side. Our tray of tea, milk, and sugar had been pushed closer to the fire and we used the large space, the marble cold under my feet as we got further away from the fireplace.

Bilbo gripped his own sword with both hands and leaped away, the sound of metal hitting metal harsh on my ears and it made me even less enthusiastic to continue. He nodded and lowered his sword a fraction of an inch, looking at me over the shiny blade.

"Aim a little closer, though."

I nodded and tried again, taking quick steps forward and swinging at him with my weapon. That horrible sound filled the room again and I stepped back, really wanting to stop but before I could say anything Bilbo stepped forward, his sword raised again.

"Better. Faster now, and try to hit me." Bilbo added that last bit with an exaggerated sigh, followed by a smile.

"I don't like stabbing at things," I said, trying to sigh with that same long-suffering tone.

"I can't imagine many people do-" Bilbo paused and blocked a half-assed swipe of my sword, and one of the dwarves called out a quick tip as Bilbo moved closer. "-but I'm sure we will all need to know how to do it properly before we reach Erebor."

I nodded and continued a little more than half-heartedly...maybe three-quarters-heartedly. It was difficult to train when I had never used anything larger than my pocket-knife, and even with that in my hand Kili had brushed me off to the side a little too easily for my liking. Next time something like that came up, I wanted to be ready.

I did, I really did. But practicing for a future scenario with someone who had just as much training with a sword as I did was more difficult than I had imagined. We would take turns, throwing wild swings and clumsily blocking...I was really glad that most of the dwarves that were really really good with weapons had left the balcony to the rest of us. There were still a few dwarves that had stayed, but half of them didn't seem to pay attention and that was a little too much attention for my liking. One of them called something out but over the ring of metal, I couldn't hear what they had said.

I had seen Cody not too far off, by the railing and sitting with this back to where Bilbo and I were practicing. When I got another glimpse in his direction, though, he had disappeared. I was still pissed that he called me out on not wanting to come with the Company. That small spark of rage at him comments - he dared to bring Bilbo into it - had me swinging my sword just a little closer to Bilbo than I had intended. He jumped back and the block was a little sloppy - he was just as taken aback as I was.

For a moment I just stood there, staring at my sword because I hadn't done anything like that since Balin tried to step around me to get to Cody. That felt like a long time ago, and I was starting to lose track of exactly how long I had been away from home.

"I think I'm done for today," I said slowly, putting the sword away and taking the thing off of my belt and setting it beside the fire. Homesickness would strike me at random times; sometimes I could think of home for hours before it would hit me and other times (like this time) the second the thought of home came to me my stomach twisted into knots and my heart jumped up into my throat.

My smaller knife - still more comfortable in my hand than the larger dagger - was still in my back pocket. It pressed a little too hard into my butt when I sat down with my back against the cold wall but it's presence was more comforting than uncomfortable, so I left it there.

That and the quarter was really all that I had left - possessions-wise, at least. Cody was from home but the way he could rile me up over something like stories over a campfire made me briefly wish that he had stayed home, that I had been here alone. Bilbo sat next to me by the wall, his feet stretched out in front of him and his sword laying across his lap. I stretched my legs out, our feet right next to each other - and great, now along with homesickness I had bodysickness. My feet back home were small - even for a girl - and at the very very most they had some peach-fuzz on the top. My brothers would make fun of me for my small feet, but if they could see me now there would be a whole new slew of teasing phrases. It would go on and on until I went screaming to my mom.

I gulped.

The thoughts of home and memories of roughhousing with my brothers and messy dinners and letting my mom braid my hair - she had to bribe me with treats, of course - were all making it difficult to breath properly. Home felt so, so far away from me at the moment that it was starting to physically hurt.

"We might do a little better next time to ask one of them for help," Bilbo said with a smile, staring over at the group of dwarves by the railings when I glanced over at him.

"I don't know if fighting is my thing," I said quietly, keeping my eyes glued to the jumping flames in front of me.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question? It's about your home, so I understand if you would rather-"

"You can ask," I said firmly, smiling at the awkward way Bilbo was juggling his words.

"Have you ever fought at home?"

"I punched someone once." I paused and looked to Bilbo. His eyebrows were raised but he didn't look at me - his cheeks were still a little red. "It wasn't really a good punch. It was sort of half a slap. I couldn't make up my mind so I just sort of..." I waved my hand in the air clumsily. "Well, I hit him, that's what counts."

"Really?"

"Got suspended and everything," I said with a grin, pausing in my pride for just a moment because that really wasn't something to be so proud of.

"Suspended?"

"Yeah, from school. If you do bad stuff like that then they send you home for a couple of days or so. That got me three days." I could never really tell if Bilbo was understanding me or just staying quiet because he didn't want to ask more questions. It would normally drive me nuts to not know if what I was saying was making any sense but the silence around the fire was comfortable now...even the dwarves by the balcony had fallen silent. I was tired from the practicing, warm from the fire and full from dinner - a perfect time to enjoy the fire for a little while longer and then go to bed.

It hadn't lasted. Nothing good and comfortable and nice seemed to last in Middle Earth.

Thorin rushed into the room, red-faced and out of breath. "Get your things. We're leaving."