Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.
Okay, just to clarify things, I have replaced Bilbo with Maire, but that does not mean that I love him any less than I do. Please forgive me for that. Thanks for the support for this story.
Things became surprisingly calmer once Thorin was settled at the table with a bowel of stew and a tankard of ale. Perhaps the presence of their leader kept the dwarves in order or something along those lines. Regardless, this change in atmosphere was a welcomed one in Marie's mind.
She was allowed to gather her thoughts as she clean the last of the pots lest in the small sink. As she did, the rest of the company including Gandalf all sat about the dining room table, tankards and pips in hand and they spoke. The occasional laughter could be heard as they continued to reconnect over lost times.
Marie felt quite the stranger in her own home.
"So what news of the meeting? Did they all come?" Balin asked, turning the conversation to more serious matters. All the dwarves nodded and focused on Thorin.
"Aye, envoys from all seven kingdoms." Thorin nodded, and an excited murmur spread across the table, the younger dwarves grew restless with anticipation. "And what do the dwarves of the Iron Hills say?" Dwalin asked. "Is Dain with us?"
Thorin's face dropped and he took a deep breath, reading himself more than anyone for the news, "They will not come. They say that this quest is ours, and ours alone."
The company looked about each other with mixed reactions. Some disappointed, some frustrated and others seemed unsure.
"A quest?" No one had noticed Maire standing behind Gandalf, "Is this what you meant this morning?"She rubbed her arms nervously, wondering if she was intruding on things she had no say in. "Marie dear. Perhaps it is best you see this."
Gandalf reached into his robes and pulled out a folded map. The table was cleared so that it could be spread out. None of the other dwarves other than Thorin had seen its contents and were all keen to know what it held. Marie shuffled around to be beside Gandalf to have a better look, but this also meant standing next to Thorin.
The dwarf king could see her resignation and fear of him, for she tried to etch herself closer to the wizard. She had not dared to meet his eye since they were introduced.
"Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands lies a single solitary peak." Gandalf explained and pointed to the images on the paper. Marie leaned in close to read it. It was a map of a single mountain with both the common tongue and dwarfish runes written, as well as various town names and markers.
At the top of the map there was another name, with a dragon drawn in bright red ink beside it.
"The ... Lonely ... Mountain." She muttered, reading out loud to herself.
"Aye. Oin has read the portence and the portence say it is time." Gloin said, nodding to his brother, who took over speaking. All listened but Bombor, who was still finishing off the scraps from dinner. "Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold. When the birds of Yore return to Erebor, the reign of the Beast will end."
This was the first time Marie was hearing any of this. "Um ... what beast?"
"Oh, that be a reference to Smaug the Terrible. Cheifest and greatest calamity of our age." Bofur answer indifferently. Marie looked back done at the map, more specifically the red dragon above the mountain.
"Air born fire breather. Teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals ..."
"I get it. A dragon." Marie held up a hand to stop his rambling.
There was the sound of a scrapping chair as Ori suddenly stood up, "I'm not afraid, I'm up for it. I'll give him the taste of dwarfish iron right up his jaxie!" Marie gasped and covered her mouth while the company all laughed and praised the little dwarf's courage. Dori just pulled him back down by his ear. "Not in front of a lady."
Balin sighed and spoke as the voice of reason, "The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number just thirteen. And not thirteen of the best, nor brightest."
The dwarves took offence to this, but Balin was in most cases right.
"We may be few in numbers, but we're fighters. All of us, to the last dwarf." Kili said proudly. Marie glanced around the group, only picking some as actual fighters, the rest ... not so much. Fili backed up his brother's statement, "And you forget we have a wizard in our company. Gandalf would have killed hundreds of dragons."
"Well now, I wouldn't say ..." Gandalf started to deny it but Dori cut him off. "How many dragons have you killed?"
But the wizard refused to answer and pretended to cough on his smoking pipe. Marie guessed that he had never killed a dragon.
This caused an uproar, which meant more shouting. Bifur and Nori leapt up from the seats and there looked like a fight would break out. Marie groaned and moved into the hallway in a vain attempt to escape the noise. 'Why must dwarves be so vocal about things?' She pinched the bridge of her nose.
The was a thunderous shout that made Marie jump right out of her skin and everyone else grew silent. The owner of such a noise was Thorin himself, who had remained quiet until now. "If we have read these signs, do you not think that others have as well? Rumours have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen in sixty years." He stood tall, almost covering the whole opening. Marie could see nothing but his broad back as she stepped further away.
"Eyes look to the east assessing, weighing the risks. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we just sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours, or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor!?"
There was so much passion laced in each word that it inspired new determination in each of the dwarves, who agreed with his words fully. Maire could now see why he was their leader.
"You forget that the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain."
Balin raised his voice over the cheers of the other.
"Not quite my dear Balin." Gandalf twirled his fingers and a strange key made from black iron appeared seemingly out of thin air. Thorin's eyes widened as he recognized the dwarvish work. "How come you by this?"
"It was given to me by your father, Thrain, for safe keeping." Gandalf handed the key to him, "It is yours now."
Thorin held the iron key before him, releasing what it meant.
"The runes on the map speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls of Erebor." Gandalf pointed out. Kili slapped his brother's shoulder, "There's another way in." He grinned.
"If we can find, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed." Gandalf shrugged and looked back down at the map, "The answer lies hidden in this map and I do not have the skills to find, but there are others in Middle Earth who can. The task I have in mind will require are great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage."
"That's why we need a burglar." Stated Ori and all eyes fell on the hobbit, who was still standing alone in the corridor. "By the looks of it, you'll need an expert." She shrugged, oblivious that she herself was the burglar in question.
"And are you?"
Marie finally noticed that she was being stared at by thirteen dwarves and a wizard. "Who, me?" She pointed at herself.
"She said she's an expert." Oin cheered, completely mishearing her.
"What? No, no, no, no." Marie waved her hands frantically, "I'm not a burglar. I've never stolen in my ..."
"What about Harold Burrow? You used to pickpocket his handkerchief at your Old Took's birthday gathering." Gandalf asked, causing Marie to become even more flustered. "That doesn't count Gandalf. I gave it back to him ..." "Only when he could find you. I remember you managed to steal it twelve times one year." The wizard went on to say, more so to the dwarves than Marie, who was beetroot red.
"Well ... Harold is a half-wit anyway, hardly a challenge." She grumbled, backing herself into the wall.
Some of the dwarves laughed at her, but Balin seemed more positive. "Well, the best burglars are those you would least expect after all, and I certainly would never had picked Miss Baggins for one." He said.
"But still," Dwalin shook his head in disagreement, "The wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor defend for themselves."
Marie was both grateful and irritated. She could defend herself if she tried, but had never needed to.
Disagreement and confusion broke out again, which angered Gandalf.
"Enough!" The air around him grew dark and heavy, like his very being was expanding and filling the room with shadows. Everyone leaned away to try and escape, only Thorin remained unaffected. "If I say Marie Baggins is a burglar then a burglar she is." the shadow slowly faded into oblivion as Gandalf returned to his usual self. Once all was normal, Marie let go of the doorway she had braced herself against.
"Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet, and can pass unseen by most if they choose. Now while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a hobbit is all but unfamiliar to him." Gandalf explained and Marie felt a pit of woe form in her stomach. 'I'm not being sent into a dragon's den am I?'
The wizard turned his focus onto Thorin, "You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Maire." Gandalf gave her a look, with the message 'Trust me" dancing in his eyes."There is a lot more to Marie than you see. She is faster and more light footed than the average hobbit, with a knack for climbing. She has a great deal to offer than any of you know, including herself."
Thorin sighed and glanced at Marie under his dark eyelashes. She was so slight and looked as though a gust of wind could blow her over. What could this mere ... woman offer to their quest? But Gandalf did have a point, the dragon would not know her scent, and she was remarkably quiet.
"You must trust me on this." Gandalf pleaded.
Thorin relented and agreed. "Alright, give her the contract." He motioned to Balin who took care of legal matters. He produced said contract it out to Marie. "Just the usual. Summary of pocket expensive, time requiary, funeral arrangements."
Marie was taken aback, "Funeral arrangements?"
Thorin grew impatient and took the contract, only to shove it at Marie. "Hey." She tried to glare at the dwarf, but even facing away from her she felt timid and ceased complaining.
'Do I get any say in this?' She sighed and began reading the lengthy terms and conditions.
With her back to them, Thorin took this chance to mutter to Gandalf his own terms for agreeing to the new addition. "I can not guaranty her safety, nor will I be responsible for her fate." He said, plain and simple. Gandalf really had o option. He would take soul charge of Marie's well being.
The colour left Marie's face as she read the contract. "... Injuries limited to ... laceration. Evisceration and ... Incineration?" She felt a wave of nausea hit her.
"Oh aye, melt the flesh off ya bone in the blink of an eye." Bofur was more than glad to answer, not understanding that such an answer made her feel even more sicker. She doubled over trying to steady her unsettled nerves.
"Are ya alright there lass?" Balin raised himself up to see better.
"Umm ... Yes. Ah no I feel ... bit faint." Maire placed a hand to her throat, swallowing lungfuls of air.
"Think furnace with wings." Bofur chimed in. "Yes, I see ..."
"Flash of light ..."
"Thank you, I get it ..."
"Searing pain, then poof, you're nothing more than a pile of ash."
Gandalf shot a glare at Bofur to silence him, then looked back at Marie. She looked like she was thinking hard about something, about what was anyone's guess. She looked up and found herself staring directly at Thorin.
The two looked eyes for a few seconds before Marie dropped the contract and fell to her knees, "I need a moment." She muttered feebly.
Her unexplainable fear for the man was her breaking point.
The first to react were Gandalf and Bofur, then Kili and Fili, "Is she alright?" "Nice going Bofur." They called from the other end of the table. Bofur shrugged apologetically and moved out of the dining room to kneel by Marie. "Sorry lass." He mumbled led as he rubbed her back.
With the surprising help from Dwalin, Marie had made it on shaky legs to her armchair, holding her face in her hands and hyperventilating. Gandalf kept her company as her mild panic attack subsided while the rest of the company thought out of curtsy to their reluctant hostess, it best to give her a few minutes, though Dori brewed her a cup of tea.
"Excuse me Miss Baggins," He graciously handed her the steaming mug, "A little something to help calm the nerves."
"Oh, thank you Dori." She gave him a weak smile. She sipped the hot tea and found it to be quite a pleasant taste. Gandalf quietly asked him to leave them in order to have a good chat with Marie. He dropped the contract on her lap.
"Tell me Marie, when did dollies and dishes become so important to you?" Gandalf sighed, "I remember a young hobbit who was always off looking for elves in the wood, who would stay out late and come home trailing mud, twigs and fireflies. You and that cousin of yours, Alistair Took, were the bane of every farmer with all the exploring you would do on their lands."
Marie's hand tightened around the boiling mug. Once she was that girl, but not anymore.
"You would speak of nothing but finding out what lay beyond the Shire and Bree ..."
"Times change Gandalf and people grow up. I'm a Baggins of Bag End." Marie said slowly, like a mantra she had repeated to herself time and time again.
"You are also a Took." Gandalf stated.
"And I've never heard the end of it." She sighed, placing her cup on a book which sat balanced on the arm rest.
"Did you know that your great great great-granduncle Bullroarer was so huge that he could ride a horse?" Gandalf asked. Marie just nodded, for she had heard this story many times before.
"Well he could. In the Battle of the Green Fields he charged the ranks of the goblins. He swung his club so hard that it knocked the Goblin King's head clean off so that it sailed a hundred yards through the air and went down a rabbit-hole, and thus the battle was won, and the game of Golf was invented at the same time."
"I've never heard that version." Marie said flatly.
"Well, all good stories need a bit of embellishment, and knowing you talents for stories you'll have a tale or two to tell when you come back." Gandalf smiled and sat himself on a tiny stool.
It was only here in the glow of the fire place that he saw years of sadness and defeat etched in her eyes, which were turned away from the wizard and focused on a small portrait sitting on the mantelpiece. The round frame had an image of a young hobbit, with soft blonde curls and a devilish grin spread across his face.
"Can you promise that I will come back?" Her voice was no more than a sigh, tired and almost lonely.
"No. And if you do you will not be the same." Gandalf was honest with his answer. Marie eyes moved away from the picture and she plucked the contract up from her lap.
"I can't ... Gandalf I really ..." She stood up and gently handed the paper to the wizard, "I'm not that hobbit anymore, I'm so sorry." She hung her head and walked out of the living room and presumably to her bedroom.
Her departure did not go unnoticed. Thorin and Balin watched the hobbit walk away. "It appears we have lost our burglar." Balin sighed and leant against the wooden walls of the hobbit hole.
Thorin however did not seem as troubled. As he thought earlier, this woman would not be able to handle this quest, her behaviour was proof of that.
She was doing herself a kindest for saying no.
xxxxx
Marie felt terrible. She sat on the edge of her bed, staring into nothing as her body recovered. Within the space of a few short hours she had run the gamete of emotions, confusion, anger, surprise, fear, sadness and for the first time in almost twenty years, curiosity.
The dwarves' quest had genuinely caught her interest, and the way Thorin had spoke about it made it sound so worthwhile and exciting, even her blood had stirred.
As she removed her cardigan, she heard a noise, deep and powerful, emanating from down the hallway. The noise became a tune, rising and falling in volume and strength. It was the dwarves whose voices pierced the very foundation of Bag End
Marie dared to move.
One voice rose above the rest.
"Far over the Misty Mountains cold. To dungeons deep and caverns old."
Marie had never heard such a sad voice before. Hobbits did not sing of sorrow or hardship, favouring songs of dancing, merriment and drinking.
"We must away, ere break of day, to find our long forgotten gold."
The sheer sadness in the voice touched something within her, a pining for something. For a moment Marie was filled with a strange sensation of longing. She closed her eyes and listened closely as more voices joined.
"The pines were roaring on the high.
The winds were moaning in the night.
The fire was red, it flaming spread, the trees like torches blazed with light."
Marie fell into a deep slumber, dreaming of burning trees.
xxxxx
The twittering larks of the early morning woke Marie, still propped up against the bed frame. She let out a groan as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. The candles had burnt up and there was a lingering smell of tobacco in the air.
The smell reminded her off what had passed that night and she quickly got up to investigate. She checked every room expecting to find a dwarf, but it looked as though there was never anyone there that night, apart from the empty pantry.
She finished her sweep in the living room, find only a few burnt out candles and a single tankard.
Marie sighed and looked about her.
They were gone
Before the silence surrounding her would not had crossed her mind, but now after such a loud and rambunctious night of food, song and tales of adventure, it was too quiet.
Had it always been this quiet?
Out of the corner of her eye she saw that the contract had been left behind. It was just sitting on her armchair neatly. The word 'Burglar' and the blank space next to it were the first thing she read.
'Traveling on an unfamiliar path is not the hardest part of a journey Marie ... it's taking the first step forward.'
She felt a restlessness brewing within her. Should she stay where life was simple and controllable ... or could she risk revisiting old dreams once more and trust her life in Fate's fickle hands?