A/N: Hellooooo! Arlighty people, tell me what you think!
Brother.
With agility of and grace, I thank my Elvin roots as I zig zag my way through the streets. I thank the speed and strength of my dwarven side too as I make great time. I am every bit of embodiment of a hurricane, as I race through the Shire, leaving dust trails and upturned pebbles in my wake. Knowing the paths and roads like the back of my hand, I know every shortcut there can ever be and map it out in my mind, my body already following through with each direction my mind orders. I cut across fields and hop over fences, there's hardly anyone out at this time of the evening and the ones that are, are merry enough to see me as a blur and consider it a figment of their imagination.
With home in mind and worry in my heart, my legs are spurred on faster, every now and then as my feet travel across different terrain, do I pick up the slightest sounds they make. Moving from grass, to gravelled pathways and cobbled roads, in the 30 years I have lived and grown up here, I have picked up the light footedness of the dear gentle folk around me. Thus, not once disturbing the tranquillity of the nightlife around me. My breathing is controlled and silent yet deeply filling my lungs with much needed oxygen as I blaze my way forwards.
I hear laughter from the pub as I breeze past it and as I make my way over a bridge, the last one that leads me up a familiar bank, allows me access towards familiar hills and a certain hobbit hole comes into eyesight. As the pathway grows steeper, my pace barely slows as I push my legs further knowing that I am nearly home.
I can only imagine the chaos that has unfolded in Bag End.
I'm coming Bilbo! Just hold on! I mentally seek him out but feel a different presence creep up my mind, a certain meddling wizard to be exact and immediately close my mind off. I am so mad at him that I am ready to spit fire, so he does not need a heads up nor a quick get away either.
Just as I reach my destination, I notice a change in décor to my home. Bilbo must have been on a spring clean whilst I was away, sprucing up Bag End and bringing life back to it. The lush green paint of the front door stands out against the mahogany woodwork around it and as I throw myself over the gate, do I notice a glowing symbol on it. It disappears as I all but jump from the bottom of the stairs, to the top.
I frown before realising that my shadow has obstructed the light from the moon and step aside. There the symbol glows a bright blue again and I bend down, only to be thrown off balance by the weight multiple bags that I carry, now choosing their time to hinder me.
"Oomph!" I mutter quietly, catching myself on my hands, which stings a little in the joints from the sudden weight. Righting myself, I kneel in front of the door and realise the symbol is dwarvish. My right hand reaches to trace the lines as I recall what it means. "Wealth." It is then that I realise that the dwarves have obviously been led here, more than likely by Gandalf. "Meddling fool!" I mutter under my breath as I stand up.
I take a breath and listen, inside I mentally map out where I can hear the voices coming from. In my mind's eye, I walk through the doorway and into the entrance hall. To the left of me is the parlour which has nobody in it. I move forward into the oak hall, in front of me is the designated room for smoking, to the right is the spare room. Both are empty, turning left along the hallway, I pass the kitchen and come to the atrium. To the left is the dining room and to the right is the pantry and cellars. The sound of several raised voices catches my ears and alert my senses, making me turn my attention to the dining room, I realise that's where everyone is.
"Right!" I murmur as I open my eyes, I reach for the handle on the door and twist it gently, hearing the mechanisms shifting as it opens the lock and lifts the latch softly. Pushing the door two, I peak through the gap and grin as I realise my assumptions are correct, the brightly lit hallway allows me to see several bags and rolls of rolled up weapons discarded here and there. I push the door further and bring myself in.
I quickly close it, gently, and let the latch softly close. From there I peak around the corner and spy Bilbo standing at the entranceway to the dining room. I also see the back of someone, but I can't quite make out who it is. From there, I take Bilbo's obliviousness and quickly divest myself of my belongings in the spare room. I listen intently to the raised voices as I dust myself off the best that I can and make myself look presentable. I creep my way towards the dining room, with Bilbo still oblivious and the others unaware, including Gandalf.
I manage to sneak past the door from the kitchen without being seen by anyone and press myself up against the wall between it and the dining room and wait for my moment. To raise hell.
Suddenly, I feel the shadowing presence of Gandalf as he exerts hits power, commanding attention of the others and silencing them at the same time. Others will feel his presence of somewhat foreboding and overwhelming, fearful maybe. But with myself, so used to him by now, it merely feels like a tickle to my senses.
"Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is." His voice booms all around Bag End. I hear the slightest cracking of the seats, no doubt the dwarves backing away from his presence, several of the lit candles flicker from his short burst of power but stay alight none the less. "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most, if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of Dwarf, the scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage." My heart drops to the bottomless pits of hell as I take in his words.
"A dragon!" I whisper in disbelief, Gandalf wanted Bilbo to face a damn dragon! Most certainly not! My mind begins racing and half listens to the rest of the conversation as I try to figure out why.
"You asked me to find the 14th member of this company and I have chosen Mr Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearance suggest. And he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know. Including himself." There's a pause. It almost sounds like Gandalf is trying to convince this company of dwarves that Bilbo is the ideal choice for a burglar. Meaning everything is not yet set in stone. "You must trust me on this." There's another pause before a different voice replies, one I am not familiar with.
"Very well. We'll do it your way." It's deep baritone rumbles through my ears, it has power to it.
"No, no." Bilbo quickly protests, stepping forward to further prove his point.
"Give him the contract."
"We're in. We're off." Another voice I don't recognise chimes in.
"Please!" Bilbo's protests fall on deaf ears. As much as I want to charge in, I can't just yet.
"It's just the usual. Summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth." Another voice tells him and I remember there's basically a room full of dwarves up against Bilbo.
And broad hand, followed by an arm in black armour all but shoves the folded paper at Bilbo, who in turn is shoved back by the force. "Funeral arrangements?" Bilbo says, a shake in his voice. A low growl escapes my throat at the thought, like hell! The only funeral there's going to be is Gandalf's and any of the dwarves who try and stop me.
"Hoooooo." Bilbo sighs as he walks away, still unaware of me as he quickly unfolds the contract and skim reads the words written on it.
"I cannot guarantee his safety." The deep baritone voice says catching my attention. Igniting more fire inside me.
"Understood." Gandalf replies this time, a bit quick and too casually for my liking.
"Nor will I be responsible for his fate." How the hell I am still holding myself back, I do not know. Whoever this dwarf is, is in for an ass kicking of a lifetime. There is a pause before Gandalf replies, obviously now aware of the consequences that he's gotten Bilbo into.
"Agreed." He murmurs back.
"Term is cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one-fourteenth of the total profit, if any. Hmm. Seems fair." Ever the bookworm and prized pupil, Bilbo's studies the contract to within an inch of it's life, all the while, I am less that 3 feet away from him, just about spitting fire and he's completely oblivious to me.
I'll laugh about it later. I tell myself.
"Er, present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof, including, but not limited to lacerations." He drawls the last word as if trying to make sense of what it means. "Evisceration." He scrunches his face up as he read this. He unfolds another section of the contract before going a little bit pale in the face. "Incineration?!" He says a sense of fright about him as he looks back towards the company.
"Oh aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye." The voice that declared that they were all in and off, assures Bilbo of what the word means. Bilbo lifts his head up and for a moment, I think he sees me, and I smile assuringly at him, but he's got a faraway look in his eyes and sees right through.
"Huh." He whimpers almost as he drops his head.
"You alright laddie?" The voice who explained what is in the contract asks him and I decide that I like this bloke now.
"Huh? Yeah." Bilbo begins panting, fear setting in as the reality of what they want him to sign up to becomes clear. "Feel a bit faint."
"Think furnace with wings." What on this green Earth is this bloke doing? Bilbo is hyperventilating right in front of him and he's just making it worse!
"Air! I need air!" The colour drains even more from Bilbo's face, I feel my moment is coming.
"Flash of light, searing pain and then poof, you're nothing more than a pile of ash!" This bloke says rather merrily. I try and send some calming waves to Bilbo but he's past my help now.
"Hmm." Bilbo ponders the words for a moment. He straightens and takes a breath, this is it. He's going to faint. "Nope." And then he starts falling.
"BILBO!" I howl his name; a bit of fear and anger carries it as I leap from my spot like a bat out of hell and catch him. Completely missing 13 dwarves and 1 pain in the ass wizard just about jumping to the height of the ceiling in fright. His weight falls into my hold and I kneel partially on the floor and check him over.
Scared the life right out of him! He is completely out!
"Bilbo? Bilbo? Can you hear me?" I say authoritatively, my voice clear and strong. He grumbles and thrashes in my hold a little. Lifting my gaze, I glower at this intrusive company in my home. Mentally setting each one alight with me gaze. Gandalf all but leaps from his chair, stumbling into the dark-haired dwarf next to him and forgetting to duck under the archway, thus banging his head.
"Aurora?! Oomph!" He calls my name in a gasp of fear and surprise. "You're here! You're home!" He stutters in disbelief as he kneels in front of me, fluttering his hands about, as if that will help.
"Gandalf." I say his name slowly, lower my voice so it means business, with venom dripping from each syllable. He pales and shakes a little. My anger gets the best of me and my powers creep through my hold, joyriding my emotions. The ground shakes a little, the candles flicker, dulling before alighting with brighter flames. Dust falls from random pockets and cracks in the walls and ceilings, the table rumbles with vibrations and out of the corner of my eye, I see the dwarves group together and fluster in slight panic.
"Who is she?!" The baritone voice asks, as the others murmur quietly as I reign my anger back in, the last of the aftershocks decreasing as it does.
"I am his sister." I say calmly before moving my glare to the dwarf that spoke. "And you want to have a damn good reason as to why you are all in me home!" I growl at him. He has the decency to look off put a little. He backs a little into a slightly taller dwarf, covered in tattoos, who leans over and speaks to him quietly.
"I will explain!" Gandalf quickly rushes in. "Perhaps we should move Bilbo to somewhere more comfortable." He advises, pulling an immobile Bilbo into his arms and standing, never taking my eyes away from the 13 dwarves in front of me, I rise as well. Standing at my full height, which isn't that much and glare at them all.
"Yes, and perhaps my home can be made spotless whilst we do just that, hmm?" I somewhat threaten and several faces whiten before I turn, and they kick start into action. Gandalf follows me as I navigate my way around the kitchen and into the parlour. I hear the dwarves getting to work behind me as I pull up an armchair next to the fire.
I turn to the fireplace, shove a few logs into it and with a flick of my wrist, they ignite. Turning back around, Gandalf lowers Bilbo with care and ease into the chair. Bilbo begins to stir just as I feel a presence behind me.
"Er Mr Gandalf?" A voice asks tentatively, and I turn, the dwarf flinches as my cold gaze lands on him, I take in his grey and intricately weaved braided hair as he edges forward. I drop my gaze to the tray he has in his hands, its shaking slightly. "Perhaps a cup of camomile will sooth him once his awakens." Several of the other dwarves pop their heads around either side of the archway leading to the kitchen from the parlour. All looking curiously at me.
"Ah!" Gandalf clears his throat, after his voice wavers a little. "That's very thoughtful of you Dori." I take a step forward and all dwarves staring at me flinch. I reach out and take the tray from the grey-haired dwarf's shaking arms.
"Yes, how thoughtful of you. You's could have considered using that before scaring my brother half to death." The grey-haired dwarf, Dori, ducks his head, gulping as he does.
"Very sorry about that miss." He says. Twisting his hands together before bowing a little and rushing back towards the kitchen.
"I thought I asked for my home to be cleaned up?" I challenge them, standing proud, my gaze never wavering. The more light-hearted dwarves scarper as if I had lit a fire under their ass, the others however, look toward me with defiance in their eyes. The dwarf who is heavily tattooed folds his arms and glares right back at me. I quirk an eyebrow at him.
"MOVE!" My voice booms, holding more authority and power than Gandalf's did before, the fires burn brighter, and a couple of ornaments shake from their spots on the shelves. Tattooed dwarf, flinches, a tiny shudder, that no one else notices, except for me. I keep my gaze on him, the corner of my mouth lifting slightly to further prove that I had witnessed him showing a touch of fear.
"As you ask, lassie." He bows and drops his arms, before vacating the kitchen. I pivot on the balls of my feet, back around to Bilbo just as he stirs.
"Here Bilbo. Drink this." I murmur soothingly to him as I crouch and move a hand to the tray and pour him a cup. "You'll feel better in a moment." I make sure has the cup, firmly in his grasp before standing and disposing of the tray into the kitchen. The hustle and bustle of busy bodies around me tells me my words have been heard loud and clear.
"Now, what's this business about a burglar and a dragon?" I turn my attention back to Gandalf as Bilbo takes a sip of his tea. Gandalf shudders a little at my look before folding himself into a chair behind him.
"Well - " He begins.