It was surely no Hobbit on the other side of that rounded door, nor was it a wizard of any sort that Bluebell was aware of. He was several inches taller than she with an impressive beard of brown. The top of his head was covered in intricate tattoos that Bluebell wished to touch, if only to see if they would glow. He wore furs and a tunic mixed with steel armor. He was broad shouldered with bulging muscles that intimidated Bluebell slightly. She looked down at his feet to confirm her suspicions, even if the beard and tattoos were a dead giveaway. His feet were clasped inside steel toed leather boots. He regarded her with his too focused gaze, narrowing his eyes.
"Dwalin, at your service, lass," he greets. His voice was as deep as Bluebell had imagined. "I believe this is the right place; could you direct me to a Mister Baggins? Is he your husband?"
Bluebell immediately grimaced, exaggerating her gag.
"No, he is most certainly not. He is my brother, and he is..." Bluebell trailed off just as Bilbo appeared at her side, tugging on his robe to hide his nightclothes. He stared in awe of the person standing on their doorstep, clearly trying to take it in all at once just as Bluebell had. "...right here. Bilbo, this is Dwalin, and apparently is it at our service."
"A...a dwarf?" he mumbled.
Dwarf! So that was his being. How fascinating! Bluebell observed Dwalin again, this time with a less critiquing eye. She had never met a dwarf before in her entire life, and here one was staring her and her brother down. She and her brother seemed quite different, Bluebell's smile easy to decipher, and Bilbo's gaped mouth open enough to let in flies. But he closed it at last, tugging his robe tighter around his person as he gently bowed his head.
"Erm...Bilbo Baggins, at yours, Mister...?"
"Dwalin," Dwalin barked again.
"Right, then. Um...this...this here is my younger sister. She is...this is Bluebell." Bilbo introduced, still sounding lost. Bluebell, delighted at her introduction, waved excitedly at Dwalin, who did no more than nod to her, the glare in his too focused eyes still very much evident. She understood not the custom of dwarf sociability, and given her own reputation within the Shire, who was she to judge? He stepped in, Bilbo and Bluebell quickly moving out of the way to adjust to his menacing size. "Do we know each other?"
Dwalin paused, possibly weighing on whether he'd answer her brother or not. "No," he said at last, continuing his journey. That did not deter him in the least upon entering the threshold of Bag End, quite possibly being the shock to Bilbo's nerves. Bluebell couldn't help but feel impossibly amused and beside herself with the circumstances. And the best part seemed to be she had no clue what was going on.
"Which way, laddie?" Dwalin called, removing his overcoat. Bluebell followed him, leaving Bilbo to slowly close the door, unsure of what he was to do. Unexpected company was one thing. They've had to cater to certain Hobbits that were feeling particularly spontaneous(those were the days Bluebell remained in her room, pilfering through her books), but they've never had to give refuge to a seemingly wayward dwarf who was probably unaware he was unwelcome. But Bilbo could never turn someone away, even the most rude of guests, unless you were Lobelia. "Is it down here?"
"Is...is what down where?" Bilbo asked, worried for the answer.
"Supper!" Dwalin barked. His voice was gruff, quite unlike the gentle and calming voices Bluebell was so accustomed to hearing. Dwalin suddenly turned to Bluebell, making her jump. He tossed his coat to her, to which she caught it with ease. "He said there'd be food, and lots of it."
"He...said? Wh-Who said?" Bilbo asked. He was paling quickly. It was very obvious who had sent this dwarf here.
Bluebell saw this as an opportunity, however. If this...Dwalin was here to collect Bilbo for the adventure Gandalf had sought him out for, perhaps this was her chance to join. Even if her brother vehemently denied the wizard and could potentially deny this petrifying dwarf, that didn't mean she had to. If they were looking for a willing Hobbit, they had come to the right hole. Her smile widened impossibly as she hopped into Dwalin's field of vision, still clutching his heavy cloak.
"Follow me," she ordered. He was confused for a moment, before obliging. Bilbo sputtered indignantly as she led Dwalin into the dining area where the two of them had previously been preparing their plates to be enjoyed. Dwalin grunted approvingly, disposing himself aggressively in Bilbo's chair, pulling her brother's plate toward him. He ignored the utensils available, deciding his hands were better substitutes. Dwalin sank his teeth angrily into the fish, Bluebell slightly wincing at the crunch. Still smiling, she went to dispose of his coat in the living area on Bilbo's armchair, squeaking when she felt her brother grab her from around the corner and pull her from the sights of the dwarf.
"What on earth are you doing?" he hissed angrily.
"What are you talking about?" Bluebell asked innocently, gently pushing him off.
"You know what the devil I very well mean, Bluebell. You have never been up on the running for courteous hosting. Your intentions bleed through your smile. You think this has something to do with Gandalf," Bilbo said, his investigative skills proving to be up to par. But Bluebell would not budge.
"While he isn't the typical guest you normally desire, Bilbo, he is a guest nonetheless. Who are we to deny him sustenance? I have no intentions aside from being a good host. Or courteous host as you so lovingly put it," Bluebell declared, shrugging. With that, she marched into the living area and dumped Dwalin's coat unceremoniously on Bilbo's beloved armchair. She paused momentarily on hearing a peculiar clank.
It had come from inside the coat, obviously. Bluebell knew she shouldn't.
She glanced nervously over her shoulder; Bilbo was no longer standing there giving her a glare. She assumed he had went to join Dwalin in the dining area, probably to ensure he only ate his share. Bluebell could picture her brother's horrified face on how a dwarf dined.
She turned back to the coat, debating momentarily with her conscience before deciding to side with her impulses, carefully opening the coat and inspecting the inner-pockets. All of them seemed to have something inside. Despite knowing Dwalin for the span of just a few minutes, Bluebell already had the impression he would scalp her if he found her so crudely going through his belongings. But he was surely eating her own supper by now by the looks of his appetite, and Bluebell felt owed to see what dwarves carry in their coats.
She reached into the top pocket, hissing slightly as a tiny blade pierced her finger, but she had gotten it out. It was tiny, even by Hobbit standards(not that any Hobbit in the Shire carried any form of weapon that wasn't their own kitchen tool). The blade was sharp and the hilt was crafted beautifully with jewels and stars. Bluebell was sure he had plucked this blade from the night sky just to get this shimmery outlook. Returning it to the pocket, Bluebell sucked gently on her bleeding finger as she inspected the next pocket.
She chanced a glance over her shoulder again to be sure she wasn't being watched. Thankfully, Dwalin and Bilbo seemed quite content in not wondering of her whereabouts. Grinning mischievously, Bluebell returned to her activities, gently pulling the contents from the pocket she had on her eye on now. It was a tiny leather pouch full of something unidentifiable. She figured, for a moment, it was just his money, and went to return it. But returning it had opened the top just a bit to let her see the true contents. Bluebell now grew even more confused, pulling it open more and dumping a few into her open hand, mindful of her finger.
They were beads. Multi-colored, carefully designed beads. Some were aegean blue, others were medallion coated, and two were even pearly white, almost as pleasing to the eye as the stars on the hilt of Dwalin's tiny blade. Bluebell admired them for another moment before carefully returning them to the leather pouch and returning it to its proper pocket, just as another knock fell upon their front door, startling Bluebell out of her wits. (Rightfully so; her nosiness was quite annoying).
Bluebell quickly fixed the coat to hide the fact it was gone through, slipping out of the living area as Bilbo had from the dining room. Both of them stared curiously at the door. Another visitor? Could this be Gandalf, come to aid Dwalin in convincing her brother to partake on this potentially dangerous journey? Bluebell licked her lips, racing to open the door. This time, Bilbo was quick enough to stop her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back with a stern glare.
"What?" Bluebell asked in annoyance.
"Why don't you accompany your guest with his supper while I answer the door?" Bilbo asked, just as another knock was made. "Go on!" Bluebell wanted to object, but she figured Gandalf would make his way inside whether Bilbo liked it or not, so she would have a chance to speak with him anyhow. Rolling her eyes, she obliged her brother and turned away from the front door and made her way back into the dining room, confused upon seeing an empty dinner table.
"Wh-What?" Bluebell only had to look around for another moment before spotting Dwalin near the fireplace, fighting with Bilbo's cookie jar that normally stood upon the mantel. He barely noticed Bluebell had returned. Bluebell saw his crisis; his hand was too big to grasp the cookies from inside, which Bilbo insisted he make as big as the platters they normally lay upon. Nevertheless, she grinned and marched over, hoping he couldn't read minds and would discover she had gone through his personal belongings. "Need some help?"
He turned to her, the jar still stuck on his hand. He said nothing, scrutinizing her with his harsh glare. Then he leaned the jar to her. Bluebell nodded curtly, grasping the glass jar with both of her hands, taking it off with an ungraceful pop. Instead of catching it like she intended, the jar flew from her grasp and hit the wooded floors with a sickening crash. Bluebell winced. Bilbo loved that jar.
"Well, that'll do the trick," Dwalin tutted, leaning down and taking up all the cookies, being mindful of the shards of glass. He was beginning to shovel them into his mouth by the time they were joined by Bilbo and their new guest who, unfortunately for Bluebell, was not Gandalf. Instead it was another dwarf, this one shorter than the first with silver white hair and an impressive beard that curved at the ends in opposite directions. He had especially kind eyes, Bluebell noticed, with a mysterious wiseness to them that made her want to ask him a million questions. Unlike the former, he was draped in red robes and metallic armor and leather boots to match. He was smiling merrily, not at all surprised to see Dwalin and Bluebell standing over a broken jar as Dwalin choked down all of Bilbo's cookies.
"What on earth-?" Bilbo asked, looking at the pair of them in bewilderment.
"Ah-hah! Evening, brother!" the smaller dwarf greeted, playfully approaching Dwalin with a knowing smile. Bluebell immediately moved out of the way so they could have a proper reunion. Bilbo joined her, still befuddled, obviously at a loss of what he was to do for this situation. He had never encountered anything like this before, dwarves popping up like molehogs determined to tear up his flowerbeds.
Dwalin, with a mouthful of cookies, grinned happily at the smaller dwarf. "By my beard! You are shorter and wider than last we met!"
"Wider, not shorter," the smaller dwarf corrected, "Sharp enough for both of us!"
The two grasped each other, the other dwarf kind enough to let Dwalin finish off his spontaneous dessert before they shared a laugh. For a moment, it seemed like a genuine family reunion, something both inappropriate to look in on but sentimental all the same. That is, until they suddenly head butted each other with a nasty crack that seemed to affect neither of them. Bluebell wondered momentarily if dwarf skulls were naturally harder than Hobbits. Surely, if she tried to attempt something like that, she'd be suffering from a concussion.
"And who is this, then? Mr. Baggins' wife?" the dwarf asked, turning to Bluebell, who went green.
"Why does everyone keep assuming that? I'm his little sister! I'm Bluebell, Bluebell Baggins." Bluebell said, her face reddening.
"Ah, I see. Well, pleased to meet you Miss Bluebell, all the same. I am Balin, at your service!" Balin bowed. Bluebell noticed that not only were these two brothers, their names even sounded similar. How peculiar.
"This is...this is not good. Not good at all, not good, not good, not good," Bilbo murmured, tugging at his trousers. "I'll be needing to sweep up that mess before someone steps on it. I need to scrub the dishes. I've no time for this nonsense, none at all."
"Oh, lighten up, brother!" Bluebell chirped, smiling encouragingly as she ruffled Bilbo's hair. He hissed angrily, batting his sister's hand away. She rolled her eyes and turned to Dwalin and Balin, who seemed to be watching the exchange in amusement. "If you two would follow me. Seeing as Master Dwalin massacred what was left of mine and Bilbo's dinner, it seems only fitting we find something else to curb our appetites," Bluebell invited, waving her arm as she trotted off toward the pantry, leaving her brother to pick up her mess. She could hear him mumbling angrily under his breath. She reached the pantry, holding her arms out. "Help yourselves!"
Dwalin grunted and Balin hummed, the two of them already lost in the shelves and cabinets full of foods of all kinds, waiting to be prepared for a grand feast. Grinning eagerly, Bluebell twirled and practically danced back to her own brother, who was already shoveling the shards of glass onto a dustpan he had available.
"Isn't this fun?" she asked with a laugh.
"You find this fun?" he asked, completely unamused as he pushed the dustpan into her arms for her to dispose of it. "Less than half an hour and already something has broken, our supper kaput, and now we've welcomed another one of them into our home. If this indeed Gandalf's doing, he has a lot of explaining and apologizing to do. None of this is okay."
"Oh, come now, Bilbo! They're rather amusing! And also, I was the one to break the jar," she explained, lifting up the dustpan for emphasis. "They seem to not mean much harm. At least, not where Master Balin is concerned. Although, I wouldn't round about my observation on appearances alone. After all, that's what often has Hobbits scorn me so."
"Bluebell, they need to leave. It is getting late. I am hungry, and I am exhausted. You should dispose of your mess while I try to convince both dwarves to leave as quickly as they've come in. And if I see Master Gandalf again, rest assured he will have his ear talked off by yours truly. This will absolutely not stand," Bilbo sneers under his breath, still courteous enough to not be loud enough, lest he chance offending the two dwarves currently raiding their pantry. Bluebell watched as he disappeared to go speak to them, leaving Bluebell to shake her head amusedly before trailing off to the kitchen to safely get rid of the shards of glass she held on the dustpan.
Just as she shook off the last slither of glass sharp enough to slice open her palm, there was yet another knock at the door. Bluebell could hear her brother's voice from the pantry, the disdain in his voice hard to be presumed as anything but. Bluebell decided to take the next round, whether it be Gandalf the wizard or another dwarf with an appetite able to rival a Hobbit's. With the dustpan still in her clutches, Bluebell got to her front door and opened it, revealing two dwarves on her doorstep now.
Bluebell quickly went red in the face. These two were younger than the others, and they were both very handsome. Not that Dwalin nor Balin weren't lookers, but these two had a rugged, coy playfulness to them that they didn't, something Bluebell greatly appreciated.
The one on the left was only slightly shorter with sandy blond hair held half up, half down. He had a beard, not as profound as Dwalin's nor Balin's, but there were two intricate braids dangling at the sides of his mouth. He was broad, muscled underneath his furs and leather coat, complete with leather boots sheathed in mud from the showers of the Shire. He had kind blue eyes that stared appreciatively at Bluebell, and his pert lips inched up into a friendly smile. He clutched onto a bag slung over his shoulder, his hand enclosed in a leather glove that matched his coat.
The dwarf to his right was slightly taller with darker hair and mischievous eyes that couldn't seem to focus on one thing for too long. At first, he stared straight over Bluebell's head, before raking down her form before meeting her face again and focusing on every feature she had, as if he was trying to memorize it by every scrutinizing detail. His beard was not as impressive as his companions; in fact, there was barely a beard at all, but the flashes of brown across his chiseled chin was still eye pleasing. He was adorned in intricately designed leather with diamonds across the edges. His wrists were covered in steel gauntlets, and he wore fingerless gloves, similar to the blond beside him. His brown hair was pulled up, similar to his companion, though his hair was noticeably more unkempt. He smiled happily.
"Fili," the blond said first.
"And Kili," the brunette added. The two of them suddenly seized her hand at the same time, giving each other a minute glare before taking a turn to kiss her hand, lingering only a moment before releasing it. Bluebell went a bright pink, clutching the dustpan closer to herself.
"At your service," they said in unison, bowing simultaneously.
Kili spoke first when they straightened up. "You must be Mr. Boggins' wife! You're very pretty, you are!"
Bluebell tightened her hand on the dustpan, suddenly wishing she could use it as a weapon. But she restrained herself quite well, almost as well as she did in front of Miss Rosemary who did not give her the sorts of smiles these two dwarves were. Bluebell also didn't want to fall in the habit of using first impressions as a way to define a whole character, and these two seemed fun, so she wouldn't want to leave that to the birds by striking them with her trusty dustpan.
"Actually, I'm his younger sister. I am Bluebell Baggins," Bluebell bowed with a smile. "You aren't the first two to come knocking on this door. Quite the contrary, your pals, Dwalin and Balin, have both beaten you to the punch."
Fili brightened considerably, walking in first, followed by who Bluebell presumed to be his brother or at least family in some way, given their similar sounding names. And from what she saw with Dwalin and Balin, dwarves often kept their kin named similar to themselves.
"Is there a Bilbo Boggins that lives here, then?" Kili asked, looking around curiously. "The whole place looks nicely decorated. The visions of a woman are more often pleasing to the eye. Trust me, Fili once decorated his own bedroom in weaponry, and he had to be stopped just before the axe hanging over his bed sliced and diced him." He laughed, ducking just in time to avoid Fili elbowing him. Bluebell laughed fondly. Yes, she thought she could get along quite well with dwarves like these. Gandalf would just have to let her attend this adventure.
"Baggins," Bluebell corrected. "And yes, he's been flitting about after Dwalin and Balin trying to convince them there's been some kind of mistake. He's not as ready for this as Gandalf may have predicted."
"You know Gandalf?"
"By word of mouth," Bluebell answered, her eyes following Fili as he swung what he was holding around so he was carrying it in his strong arms instead. She followed him, peering down at the bundle, curious. "What do you have there?"
"They've just been sharpened," Fili stated proudly. "If you give me someplace to put them, I'd be more than happy to show them to you." Kili rolled his eyes, turning to the side, seemingly in search of something. When he had his eyes set on Bluebell and Bilbo's mother's glory box, lifting his boot, which was as coated in mud as Fili's.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you!" Bluebell said just as he began dragging the sole of his boot crudely across the fine wood. She winced, before glaring. "That happens to be my mother's glory box, if you could refrain from ruining it!"
Kili went red and stopped immediately, mirroring that of a naughty child with his hand caught in the cookie jar.
"He was dropped on his head more than once as a child, don't mind him," Fili mumbled to her.
"I was not!" Kili protested angrily, glaring at him.
Bluebell giggled, waving Fili over toward where she had dropped Dwalin's coat. She cleared off the coffee table(there was really only a few coasters, spare parchments, and three of the seven books Bilbo was currently reading). Fili grunted, dumping the sheathed mystery, making Bluebell even more curious at just the sound of the metal sliding and bumping into each other. She had a feeling she knew exactly what was underneath the cloth, but she still wanted to see them.
Fili took a moment for dramatic effect, before peeling off the cloth and revealing to Bluebell a variety of swords, axes, and spears, all seemingly manufactured and crafted by the same people, as the designs all had a certain air to them. One sort had a hilt similar to the knife Dwalin had in his coat, the jewels sparkling up at Bluebell as she leaned down and gently ran her hand over it.
"Should I be frightened of you?" Bluebell asked playfully.
"Not unless you take the mickey out of me," Fili grinned, returning the jest.
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind."
"Fili! Kili!" someone barked. They turned to see Dwalin enter the room, an intimidating swoop to him as he threw an arm over a disgruntled Kili's shoulders, who still seemed to be pouting over Fili's comment. "Give us a hand here!"
"Mister Dwalin," Kili greeted with a proud smile, completely forgetting the circumstances.
Fili was quick to joint the two. Clearly, Dwalin and Balin were plotting something important in Bluebell's absence. She wondered how her brother was taking it. Speaking of Bilbo, he suddenly appeared, looking absolutely disheveled, his hair prodding out from all ends, his robe hanging half on/half off, and his face was as red as the cherries he'd stuff his pies with.
Bluebell was suddenly concerned.
"What's happened? Are you alright?" she asked, pulling him close to inspect him. "Have Dwalin and Balin harmed you?"
"What? No. I am perfectly fine, all things considered, but I am also half sure if I see another dwarf, I'll have to rip my hair out. The pantry has been sought through like a twister on the horizon. I don't believe these dwarves have ever heard the term common decency," Bilbo rambled on, leaning over with his hands on his knees to catch a breather. "Who were the two you welcomed in?"
"Fili and Kili. Brothers, I think. They're quite funny," Bluebell said. "Are you sure you're alright? You look like you're about to pass out."
"Yes, I'm fine." Bilbo assured tiredly. "You sure do pick your moments to suddenly become a mother hen."
"I guess I only choose moments that are necessary. Dwarves invading our home seems completely rational to be cross about. Although, I dare say I rather like them. Our guests tend to be boring creatures, Bilbo, who only speak of stitching patterns and recipes. These dwarves have seen more than that." Bluebell said, smiling wistfully. "And they're quite hairy, don't you think?"
"Don't be insensitive, Bluebell."
There was suddenly another knock on the front door. There was no stir in the activity going on in the other room where the four dwarves already inside were either going through the pantry or preparing all Bilbo and Bluebell had for an impressive feast. If Bluebell were being honest, she'd say she was keen on sampling what they would create. Hobbits pride themselves on their food; she wondered if dwarves had any meals worth fighting over. Unfortunately, the knock seemed to really throw Bilbo off the deep end, seizing Bluebell from her thoughts on casseroles or whole turkeys.
"Oh, no! No! No!" he exclaimed, marching toward the door, his hair becoming even more unruly. "There's nobody home! Go away, and bother somebody else! There's far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is! If...if this is some blockhead's idea as a joke, I can only say, it is in very poor taste!"
"Such language, brother!" Bluebell playfully scolded as Bilbo opened the door.
He jumped back with a small yelp, Bluebell even having the nerve to gasp in shock as a pile of dwarves fell at her brother's feet, all as hairy with intricate hairstyles and braids as the other four. She couldn't count them from where she was, but there was surely more than one. Before Bluebell could come over and help anyone up, she stopped in her tracks, seeing someone else waiting on the doorstep wearing the same grey robes as she had witnessed leave her fence earlier that day.
"Gandalf," Bilbo said, confirming Bluebell's theory.