Bilbo fed himself last (as any good host would do) despite the dwarves' constant protests that they could dish up their own food and that he should go ahead and eat to conserve his health. Bilbo huffed about the comments on his health and refused to give up his ladle even with Oin hovering over him the entire time. Because of this, several of the dwarves were already done by the time Bilbo sat with his own bowl.

"Very good this," Frerin said, holding up his empty bowl.

"You may be able to get seconds," Bilbo said, "if you're quick about it. There's not much left, so I think it'll be gone very soon."

Frerin laughed. "I will hold off for now," he said. "Best to conserve our food. It'll be a long trip, I suppose."

"Will it?" Bilbo asked.

Frerin raised a brow at him and Vili glared down at his bowl behind the dwarf. "Didn't you say that you knew where to find some dwarves?" he asked.

"Oh yes!" Bilbo gasped (Bilbo was not known for his good memory, so much so that he often kept a book on him where he would write important things to remember). "Of course!" He dug into his bowl, hiding the warmth in his cheeks. Not a good impression. Not a good impression at all. He was supposed to be making things better not worse.

"And where would they be?" asked Vili in a grumble, finally setting his long empty bowl to the side (he had finished it before even Frerin who had been the first to receive a bowl).

"Oh!" Bilbo said again, but his brow furrowed. He didn't know where they were. Not really. He only knew what direction they were in and he had no way of explaining that to the dwarves (without revealing his hobbitish secret). Oh, if only he hadn't opened his big mouth. Bilbo's knees bounced (he would very much like to be bouncing on the balls of his feet in his nervousness, but couldn't really stand), and he bit his lip, completely forgetting about the spoon half raised to his face. "Well," he said.

"You didn't lie to us, did you?" Vili asked, his eyes narrowing and the sides of his lips raising.

"I didn't lie!" Bilbo said suddenly. He jumped to his feet and his bowl flew to the ground, still half full of food. Bilbo did not appreciate being called a liar in general, but to be accused of such by someone his soulmate might be close with drove him to such anger that he pointed without another thought. "They're that way," he said. Then his mouth snapped shut and he looked to the ground. Now he'd done it. He kicked a foot against the dust, wanting very much to mount Myrtle and run far away from this situation.

Frerin looked in the direction with a frown. "It would be better if you told us the actual place," he said.

"But I don't know a place!" Bilbo said. No point in trying to hide it when he was obviously utterly failing. "I just know a direction!"

"What's all this commotion?" Oin said, coming up beside Bilbo (he had left him alone only when Bilbo finally sat and had been keeping a close eye on his since). "You'd better not be upsetting my patient! It's bad for his heart!"

Bilbo would have complained about that comment, but the dwarves looked suddenly chastised and his heart did feel like it was pounding against his chest. Myrtle also came over at the commotion, nudging Bilbo's shoulder with grass still in her mouth. "It's alright Myrtle," he said, stroking her nose. It wasn't alright. He had no idea what to do now. There was no way that the dwarves were going to let this go despite Oin glaring down at them, but Bilbo still had no idea what to say. Myrtle chewed on his sleeve and it calmed Bilbo more than someone messing with his clothes really should.

"So, to the West?" Frerin said once Oin had finished his chastisement (which Bilbo had completely missed as he spoke to Myrtle). "Perhaps they went to the Misty Mountains?"

"What would they find there?" asked Vili.

"Moria?" said Frerin.

"Mahal," Vili cursed. "Why would they go there? That place is cursed."

"Agreed," Frerin said with a nod. "It'd be far better for them to go on to the Blue Mountains. Bilbo, are you sure you can give us no more than a direction?"

"I'm sure," Bilbo said with a nod. The words came to him suddenly now that he was calmed with his hand still rested on the side of Myrtle's neck (the fact that he didn't feel so interrogated also helped him slightly). His confidence raised now that he had the assurance of Oin's watchful eyes keeping the dwarves in check instead of him. He was, after all, a great winder of words (he didn't enjoy being accused with being a liar, but that did not mean that Bilbo was adverse to the twisting of a word or to). "I only passed the dwarves briefly and that was the direction that they were heading. Didn't have much of a chance to give the 'How do you do's' and all that. I know it's quite rude, but we were all in much of a hurry, I assure."

There. That would explain his knowledge without the dwarves thinking him impolite. Couldn't have them thinking him not fit for his soulmate because he didn't give proper greetings. Politeness, after all, was at the top of hobbittish culture alongside food and it was only Lobelia Sackville-Baggins (who was a horribly dreadful woman that Bilbo Baggins liked to pretend he was in no way related to) who ever disregarded the usual niceties.

Frerin and Vili nodded to each other and stood in tandem. "Very well," said Frerin as Vili turned to yell Khuzdul (at least Bilbo assumed it was the dwarvish language that he had read about in books), "We should be quick then. We'll need to go around Mirkwood and we want to catch up to them as soon as possible."

There was a sudden flourish of motion. Bags were packed quickly as cutlery and other such dishes flew through the air (Bilbo may have chewed threw his nails to see any form of dishware treated with such disrespect), and at some point Bilbo found himself with a new bowl in his hand with fresh food for him to eat. All of this only took a few moments and then Vili called out another word and the pack was moving again.

Bilbo cried out when he felt his body lifted (he would very much not like to be thrown about like the dishware, thank you very much), then sighed in relief when he was deposited on Myrtle's back. "That was highly unnecessary," he said in a huff once he was sure that he was properly situated, bowl of food held firmly in both hands (he had already wasted quite enough, thank you very much). "I can walk very well on my own." Though he didn't try to get down again because the dwarves were already moving at a quicky pace and he doubted that he would have the time to do so.

"Nonsense," said Oin with a small shake of his head. "We wouldn't want you overexerting yourself. It's not good for your heart. I'll make sure you don't do anything to exhausting. You're my patient now."

"I do not have a weak heart!" Bilbo said. He would very much like to stamp his foot and cross his arms, but as he was on top of Myrtle and his hands were wrapped around his bowl of soup, he could do nothing but sit there in a pout.

"What?" said Oin, pulling the trumpet up to his ear.

Bilbo wondered if the dwarf really was deaf or if he just had very selective hearing.