I've decided that Mondays will be when I update, though it will usually be EVERY OTHER Monday - unless there's a special occasion, or other circumstance. (Last chapter was a bit slow, so I figured there was no harm in going ahead with this one, but I'll try not to spoil you guys! LoL) I've got a few more chapters already written, so there's a bit of a buffer for my upload schedule. Once I catch up, the updates might be slower, but we have a little ways to go before then. :)
As always, thank you so much for your reviews! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit or its characters, only my OC.
The Loudest Silence
Chapter Four
Bag End quickly became a jumble of organized chaos.
At the mention of food, the Dwarves had (sadly) attempted to pile in the door all at once. I knew exactly how well that would go, so I stayed back while they fell forward into a heap of beards, bags, and legs. I stood beside the wizard as he hunched to peer into the doorway.
An exasperated, "Gandalf," floated out from the small home, and upon recognizing the voice, I was instantly poking my head around the door frame as well. There – in all his patchwork-robed, curly-haired, fussy glory – was the Hobbit. THE Hobbit. Ringwinner, Luckwearer, Barrel-rider... Though at that point, he was still just Bilbo Baggins: tiny creature who was working himself into conniptions over boot prints on his carpet.
As the Dwarves rolled off of each other and made their way further into Bag End, they exchanged brief "Good evening"s and "At your service"s with their host. They handed off coats and bags, though Bilbo didn't look like he was paying much attention to the actual introductions or where he bothered to set their things. No, he was definitely more concerned with the boot prints and the home invasion.
Once he recognized it as a lost cause, the disgruntled Hobbit dropped what bag was last handed to him and scuttled over to Gandalf, who had just stepped inside. I was reluctant to add yet more shoe prints to the rug, but there really wasn't much for it, so I followed in last, awkwardly closing the little round door behind us.
"So this – this is what you were talking about earlier? When you said you would 'Inform the others'?!" Bilbo questioned the grey wizard, in a furious but hushed tone. "These Dwarves are the 'others'? – wait! When did I even agree to this?"
Gandalf just put on a face of complete innocence, saying, "We spoke of it, did we not, my dear boy?"
The Hobbit stuttered out, "Well yes – but no! No! – that is – I hadn't the slightest idea what you were going on about, so that hardly counts as having spoken of it!"
He was so adorable when he was flustered. I couldn't help the little puffs of laughter that I exhaled through my nose, though quickly stopped when Bilbo located the source of the noise, scowling. There was almost no pause between his previously rambling, as he turned back to Gandalf.
"Is he also – oh dear, I am so sorry, Miss. Is she a Dwarf as well?" he asked, doing a momentary double-take, mid-sentence. I was caught between being insulted and being amused. My hoodie did no favors for my figure though, so I didn't hold it against him for mistaking me as a guy at first glance.
Gandalf was just as relaxed as he had been moments before when he answered, turning to me. "Oh, no, she is not a Dwarf, nor is she a Hobbit. I would like to introduce you to Miss Jenna Hollander."
I hesitated, but realized what a dork I was being, so speedily stepped forward to shake hands. He almost looked startled at my sudden movement, but returned the greeting all the same.
"Bilbo Baggins," he said warily. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."
I smiled as friendly as I could, trying to make a good first impression. I mean, it wasn't every day that you got to meet the Hobbit. It's like that feeling you get when you meet Mickey Mouse at Disneyworld for the first time; you know there's no real reason to be nervous, but it happens anyway. My silence came off as awkward however, and as I released Bilbo's hand, I looked up to Gandalf for help to explain. He caught the drift quickly enough.
"Ah, yes. I forgot to mention that Miss Hollander cannot speak, due to… extenuating circumstances beyond our control at the moment," the wizard told him vaguely.
I squinted at the bearded man's words, still unsure of how much he knew. I hoped I would get answers out of him before the night was done though. Or before I was forced to whack him over the head with his own staff. It hadn't even been a full ten minutes since I'd met Gandalf and I could already tell he was going to be equal parts mischief maker and problem solver.
Bilbo made a small "Oh!" and seemed a little less uneasy about my uncomfortable silence. Though it was then that we heard more laughter and rowdy noise from down the hall, and his shoulders slumped with a huff, remembering his other guests. He made to follow the noise while grumbling, but then looked down at his garb, turning sharply in the other direction.
"As soon as I am properly dressed, Gandalf, you and I are going to have a chat!" the Hobbit called, already over halfway down the hall. I wasn't the only one who needed to have a proper talk with the meddlesome wizard, apparently.
After setting my backpack down on a small table in the hall, I followed Gandalf to the rest of the group like an awkward duck. Not wanting to get bumped into with plates of food or anything, I stayed in the archway while Gandalf made his way through the atrium, greeting Dwarves and maneuvering into the dining room. They all bustled about, bringing food to the table, setting it up, and returning to the kitchen for more.
In the far corner, I spotted two young Dwarves messing with a barrel of what must have been ale. It only took a moment for me to recognize them as Fili and Kili, and when I did, I suddenly felt ill. Not from excitement at the thought of meeting them. No. It was because the last time I had seen those faces, I was bawling like an absolute baby in front of a screen. The reaction upon observing them in person was definitely not how I always imagined it would be. My stomach turned and my fingers went cold at the thought of the princes being real. Real people. Real people who I knew were really going to die in less than a year, unless I could change things.
Great. I couldn't even look at the Dwarves I was supposed to be helping without my guts feeling all gross. Wonderful start.
I shoved my hands into my hoodie pockets and made to look away from them, trying to think of something else, but it was then that the eldest prince made eye contact with me. Crap. A look of curiosity overcame Fili's baby blues, as he turned to his brother and exchanged a few words, which I could only guess were about the weirdo standing in the doorway. Fili glanced back over to me, this time with Kili investigating as well, and it was only seconds before they were setting the barrel down and winding their way through the others.
'Too late to run now,' I thought, trying to look less panicked. (I suspected I was failing.)
"No one said anything about a lady being present tonight," the blonde prince said as they came to a halt in front of me, and he glanced at the other, mustache beads swinging with the movement. "I believe introductions are needed, brother."
"That they are," the younger agreed, beaming. "Kili."
"And Fili."
"At your service," they finished together, with slight bows not quite as low as the ones from the film, and I was struck with vivid déjà vu. Did they do that to everyone they met? Or were they just feeling especially synchronized tonight?
When I gave a weak smile, their grins faltered slightly, but Kili instantly started back up. "Are you perhaps the wife of Mister Boggins? I'd had no idea that he was marri – "
'Nope!' I shook my head instantly, derailing that before they confused themselves. My hands were clammy inside my pockets. Why did they have to look like such puppies? I wanted to wrap them in bubble wrap and not ever let them leave the house.
"So… you're not married to Mister Boggins?" Kili asked, looking puzzled regardless.
"Well that's what she just said, isn't it?" Fili cut in, considering me for a moment, before making his own guess. "Did you come here with Gandalf? Or maybe… well, you're dressed rather odd, so maybe you're a wizard as well?"
"We get two wizards?" Kili exclaimed prematurely, glancing back and forth between us.
'What?! No!' I shook my head yet again, incredulous. This communication block was quickly making my nervous stomach ache ten times worse. Dear sweet baby Jesus.
I decided to try and mouth the words, 'No. I'm not a wizard.'
That put a pause to their guessing. My lack of voice threw them off for a second, though Kili was once again the first to come back from it.
"Did you say you're not a wizard?" he questioned, looking a bit disappointed.
Nod.
Fili appeared thoughtful, then asked, "Can you not speak?"
My response was a mixture of shrugging and head shaking. I was saved from more questions by Bofur, who overheard the princes on his way to the dining room, a large plate of sliced ham in his hands.
"Aye, this here is Miss Jenna Hollander, and you're spot on," he interceded. "Doesn't have a voice and she isn't from around here, so mind your manners..." There was a pause as the Dwarf observed me. "Doin' alright, lass? Ye look a bit pale there."
I attempted a nonchalant smile, but that was about as useful as trying to catch water on fire. Bofur saw straight through my falsified happy face and was instantly by my side. Bless the sweetheart.
"Let's get some food in ye, alright, Miss Hollander? After dinner we'll have Oín check up on that arm of yours," he said, setting a hand on my other shoulder, then turned to Fili and Kili. "You lads best be gettin' that ale out before we've got a riot on our hands."
The two princes complied hesitantly, their interest still piqued by the quiet oddball. As they meandered back across the atrium for the barrel, Bofur led me into the dining area. While the hallway was chaos, the other room was only mildly better, occupied by several Dwarves trying to find places to set food on the already full table. My stomach was starting to settle, and unfortunately, that meant I could now feel the hunger creeping up at the thought of a meal. Everything looked delicious, from baked potatoes, to chicken and bread rolls, to the giant cheese blocks that Bombur had kidnapped. It was like Thanksgiving on steroids.
Bilbo's return to the madness was unmistakable. There were fussy protests of, "Not those!" and "Put that back where it came from!" though nobody seemed to take any notice of the poor guy. I glanced back through the doorway to see him wrestle a bowl of tomatoes away from Ori, who seemed a little bewildered, though quickly continued on his way. These Dwarves really couldn't tell that he wasn't expecting all of them?
As Bofur pulled me up a chair and the dining room quickly began filling up, it suddenly dawned on me that I never saw Bilbo eat his dinner in the movie. Did he do so behind the scenes? Even when all the Dwarves were having a grand 'ole time, I couldn't recall seeing him ever having a plate of his own, and it bothered me enough to do something about it.
I turned to Bofur before I could get seated, giving him the, 'One moment' signal. He looked curious for a minute before he shrugged, sitting down in the chair beside mine, and began with his own dining. I grabbed a plate as well, though not for me. I tried to put a variation of things on there, uncertain of what he would want, but it was all from his pantry so surely it was stuff he would eat.
Spinning to head back towards where I last saw the Hobbit, I almost dumped the plate on a long white beard which suddenly appeared in front of me. One of the tomatoes just about rolled off, but I tilted the dish back in time, whipping my eyes up to see who nearly wore the food.
"Sorry about that, laddie," said the Dwarf, who was looking down at his beard, brushing some crumbs off. By the time he brought his eyes back up, I had recognized who it was, and an expression of surprise overcame him. "Oh – well you're not a lad at all! My apologies, Miss…?"
I just wanted to staple a sign to my forehead at this point. 'Jenna Hollander,' I said silently.
As everyone else previous had done, his brows furrowed for a moment, before he asked, "Gene O'Lander?"
Dear God.
"Jenna Hollander," Bofur stated with a mouth half-full of food, and continued eating like nothing had happened.
The Dwarf before me nodded, though still looked somewhat concerned that I was there at all. Either way, he offered a hand to shake. I took it with my free one as he said, "Balin, at your service. It is… nice to meet you, Miss Hollander."
Standing across the table from us, we had garnered the attention of a big burly Dwarf with tattoos covering the bald circle on the top of his head. I met his eyes and tried out a sheepish smile. There was no smile back. Of course. Unmistakably, I knew it was…
"Dwalin," he said, crossing his arms and tilting his chin down to eyeball me, before turning to speak with Gandalf.
The elder brother gave another slight nod to me before sitting down, on the opposite side of the empty seat beside Bofur. When Balin gave me one last glance and turned to Bofur with an obvious question in his eyes, I took that as my cue to go, and slipped out into the atrium. I seriously hoped the brothers Ur wouldn't be in hot water because of me.
By that point, pretty much the entire Company had found a seat around the table, laughing and eating with their mouths wide open as they talked, so the only occupant in the room I entered was Bilbo. His back was to me and his shoulders drooped upon seeing the wreckage of his pantry.
I padded over to where the Hobbit stood, coming to a stop beside him and holding out the full plate.
It took him a moment to realize I was there. He jumped slightly when he did, and let out a sigh from being startled before his attention came back to me. Everyone else was so loud in comparison, it was no wonder I caught him off guard. I held it out more prominently, and when he finally took note of the offer, he stared back and forth between me and the dish.
"You – you made me a plate?" he asked, grimace slowly fading in favor of mild astonishment. With this crew, it was no wonder he was taken aback.
I nodded, unable to stop a real smile from creeping up to my face. Bilbo looked halfway grateful, but also halfway like a deer who might bolt as he hesitated, as if actually getting to eat dinner was too good to be true. Eventually he did reach over, and took the plate of food with a wry smile.
"Thank you kindly, Miss Hollander," the Hobbit said. "This is – that was very thoughtful of you. I didn't believe there would be any food left by the time this bunch was done, so this is a pleasant surprise."
There was a burping contest behind us that ended with a thundering belch from Ori, which caused the group to fall into an uproar of hilarity. Bilbo, however, was the opposite of amused. The frown returned as his shoulders tensed, and I couldn't help but reach out and pat his arm with a smirk on my face. Poor baby was gonna have to get used to this.
He gave me a pleading look that deliberately said 'put me out of my misery'. I couldn't control the silent snickers that escaped me as I left Bilbo to his moping, content now that I had given him some dinner.
When I took a seat at the table, between Bofur and Balin, it was plain to see that nearly all the food had already been demolished. With haste, I snagged some chunks of bread, cheese, and ham before it disappeared as well. Damn. I certainly underestimated how quickly they would inhale their dinner…
Shortly after I managed to consume my makeshift sandwich, the Dwarves did the same to what remained of the table's contents. Well after all were finished eating, the group continued with their antics, though they dispersed throughout the house to cause ruckus elsewhere. Bofur gave me a reassuring smile, then squeezed around my chair to tag along with Nori into the kitchen, causing Balin to scoot down to the head of the table so others could get out as well.
I also took that chance to escape the table, uncomfortable with all the crowding and – for lack of a better term – unique smells. What with all the belching and men in one place, I wasn't surprised. The crowding wouldn't have bothered me so bad, had I known them better, and I mean, I knew them, Lord did I know them. But at the same time, I didn't know them at all, and it threw me off. I had posters of these guys plastered everywhere in my home, and yet they were strangers. It was such an odd experience. I trusted them, don't get me wrong, but I didn't exactly wanna go around hugging everybody yet either.
I positioned myself by a small shelf of sorts near the archway, watching as Gandalf stood from his place at the table to calm an agitated and ranting Bilbo. The poor Hobbit was already back in fits after his short food break.
"Oh, they're quite a merry gathering, once you get used to them," I overheard Gandalf respond to the Hobbit.
I waited to hear the expected retort of Bilbo stammering out, "I don't want to get used to them! Look at the state of my kitchen! There's mud, trodding on the carpet!" They continued around the corner, through said kitchen, and back into the atrium where I stood awkwardly. "They – they've pillaged the pantry! I'm not even going to tell you what they've done in the bathroom; they've all but destroyed the plumbing. I don't understand what they're doing in my house!" Bilbo finished in a rush, balling his little fists up.
Ori chose that moment to walk in front of me, over to their host, and asked in a small voice what he should do with his plate. A beat of stomping and clashing silverware began, and I peeked into the dining room to see Bofur and Nori sitting across from each other, the cause of the noise. Others beside them began adding to the beat as well. Before long, Fili popped up and started tossing bowls and Ori's plate to his brother, and Bilbo was about to have a stroke over the danger his mother's dishes seemed to be in. He looked truly distraught. When he finally got around to telling Bofur not to blunt his knives, I was on the fence between amusement from the Dwarves' antics and concern for the Halfling's peace of mind.
"Ohhh, did ya hear that, lads? He says we'll blunt the knives!" called a familiar voice.
I raised a halfhearted, disapproving eyebrow at Bofur and he gave me an unashamed smile in return, winking. My eyes rolled of their own accord, but I smiled a bit too, knowing full well that there would be no damage done in the end.
Then Kili began to sing.
AN: Woohoo! Only one more Dwarf to meet. ;)
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Bye for now!
