Evening fell fast, and the following morning was bright and cheerful. The birds sang just as merrily as they had the previous day, if not more so. But Númeniel couldn't enjoy any of it. She was in quite a state of fret.

No plan. No briefing. Nothing.

Just a thieves' mark on the door and a twinkle in his eye, and she was supposed to guess the entire plan. It wasn't fair. What on earth was he thinking?!

She had grumbled to herself about it while she had repainted the door, weeded the garden, and now this morning she was brooding about it over a sinkful of dirty breakfast dishes. Even Bilbo noticed- he was becoming a good friend of hers, and from the start he had been quick to pick up on her moods. "Are you feeling alright, Andrethil?" He asked her that morning as she battled with sticky second-breakfast leftovers on a pot.

"Oh- no, I'm well, thank you," she said quickly over her shoulder, feeling guilty and even a little ashamed. She hated being unable to conceal her thoughts and feelings, but it pleased her that Bilbo was as quick to show he cared as he was to notice.

"You haven't been working yourself too hard, have you?" Bilbo asked concernedly, "because if you need to take a break…"

"Oh no, Mr. Baggins, please don't trouble yourself. I'm quite fine." Númeniel turned back to wash another plate. She had stayed up most of the night worrying over Gandalf and dragons and dwarves, but she was not about to tell Bilbo that.

"Ever since that wizard came, you've turned into a regular stormcloud. Don't think I haven't noticed." Bilbo approached her with folded arms. "If he's said anything to make you unhappy-"

"Don't worry about me, Mr. Baggins. I'm perfectly capable of overcoming the frustration brought on by the mysterious wording ways of wizards." She gave him a half-smile and turned back to her work.

"Is that what it is?" Bilbo sighed. "Alright. But if you're still upset by the end of the day, please come talk to me about it. We can discuss it over tea, if you like."

"That is very kind of you- thank you Mr. Baggins." This time her smile was warm and genuine. Bilbo nodded and turned away, grumbling even more about Gandalf.

Once Bilbo had gone out of the room, Númeniel squeezed the dishcloth in her hand as tightly as she could and stifled a groan.

Wizards. So annoying. Why couldn't they be as clear and sweet as Bilbo?

She didn't consider herself to be a wizard, of course. Her calling on Middle-earth was different- the wizards were tasked with helping the Free Peoples resist the returning evil. Her task was to heal and assist the Free Peoples, not counsel them in war against darkness. Therefore, she wasn't a wizard.

And therefore, not being one of them, she could easily declare that all wizards were annoying.


"What do you know about Gandalf?" Bilbo asked Númeniel that evening, as he sat at the table nibbling a buttered scone and waiting for her to finish cooking dinner.

"Many things," Númeniel said guardedly, turning the fish over with a spatula. Though her mood had lightened over the day, Bilbo had still wanted to talk about the wizard. "Gandalf has been around for a long, long time."

"How long have you known him? What is he like?"

"I've known him since I was a little young thing," she said, turning her attention to a pot of steamed carrots. "He's an old soul, and he likes wandering around from place to place- always making friends, but never staying long." She removed the carrots from the fireplace and drained the hot water from them. "He's like an older brother to me- I care very much about him, but he can be very annoying sometimes."

"I suppose I've never known what it was like to have a brother. Or sister, for that matter." Bilbo said thoughtfully, reaching for another scone. "I grew up an only child, you see. My father Bungo was a very excellent Hobbit, though. He built Bag End for my mother." A brief smile flickered across his face.

"A very excellent Hobbit he must have been, to build such a home as this." Númeniel said thoughtfully, as she set the bowl of steaming carrots on the table. Bilbo popped one in his mouth, and though he burned his tongue a little, he wasn't disappointed. The carrots were soft and seasoned to perfection. He was convinced Númeniel was a better cook than many a Hobbit this side of the Water. Depending on how long she stayed, he might convince her to enter the annual baking competition that the Shirefolk held on the last day of July.

"I don't really have any siblings either," Númeniel went on, placing a few chunks of sliced cheese on his plate before turning back to the fireplace. "I suppose when there are none to be had, others step in to fill the role. We all have someone we look up to, more or less. Someone we lean on." Her eyes became distant then, and if she hadn't smelled the rest of dinner beginning to singe she might have stood there until it was quite burnt. But her hands were as fast as they were gentle, and the fish she set in front of Bilbo seconds later had happily escaped a bad fate.

"What about your father?" Bilbo asked as he spread a napkin over his lap and began to sprinkle salt over his fish.

A fond smile warmed her face. "Well, my fath-" A ring at the door interrupted her. Bilbo froze, his arm extended still over the fish, and looked up in annoyance.

"Shall I get the door?" Númeniel asked, wiping her hands on her apron and glancing down the hall in curiosity.

"No, no- I shall. I'm still the master of this house." Bilbo stood reluctantly and dusted off the grains of salt that clung still to his hands. "Though who it is at this hour I cannot begin to imagine."

Númeniel supposed it was Gandalf, and she wondered if she should be ready to gather up her things. The idea of leaving so soon sparked feelings of melancholy within her. She would have liked to have stayed a little longer- it was peaceful and pleasant in Hobbiton. Though many of the townsfolk gave her odd stares whenever she walked amongst them, she knew they held a high opinion of her for saving the little Took girl. It would be hardest to say goodbye to Bilbo, who had been so kind to her. Though Gandalf was insisting on bringing him along in the Company, she couldn't imagine Bilbo being persuaded to leave his comfortable home. She would have liked to have stayed with him, caring for his house and seeing to the meals, and drinking tea with him in the evenings while they talked about things. Though the ways of Hobbits were simple, she had come to see that in their hearts dwelt an innocence and purity unknown to her in any other creature, and….

"Is it here, laddie?" A deep, gruff voice which certainly did not belong to Gandalf broke Númeniel out of her thoughts. "Is it down here?"

"I-I-I-Is what down where?" Bilbo stuttered, an indication that he was distressed.

"Supper." Heavy footsteps sounded in the hall. "He said there'd be food. And lots of it."

Númeniel looked up in surprise as a dwarf wandered into the kitchen. The dwarf met her eyes.

And then he froze.

Númeniel was equally shocked, and quickly she studied him- he had thick brown hair, aside from the very top of his head which was bald. His face was gruff, and generously sprinkled with scars. From the clothes and gear he had on, Númeniel sized him up as one of the fiercer warriors of Durin's folk. He also looked rather familiar, but she could not remember him personally. It had been a long time since she had been among dwarves. She wondered what this dwarf was doing here now: perhaps he was stopping by before reaching the Inn. "Good evening, Master dwarf," she said softly, bowing her head. "Welcome to Bag End."

"What is an elf doing here?" Growled the dwarf, ignoring her as Bilbo came up behind him. "He never mentioned there being an elf."

Númeniel pursed her lips- her presence and role in the company being unexplained was a little problematic. Excellent job, Gandalf…

"Excuse me?!" Bilbo huffed, "Andrethiril has been my housekeeper for many weeks, and you will show her every kindness while you are in my house, thank you very much."

"I'd sooner wait outside than be under the same roof as an elf." The dwarf snarled. "What is she even doing here?" Númeniel glanced at his large armored hands, which were most likely gripping a weapon hidden beneath the fur trim of his garments.

"I just explained- she is my housekeeper," Bilbo spluttered. "If you do not like her, you can go right back out of my door."

Númeniel sighed, set the plate of buttered scones on the table near the dwarf and walked out of the room. She had never been one to prolong conflict.

"Now look what you've done!" Bilbo's voice echoed through the halls. "Was that necessary?"

Númeniel heard the dwarf say something about Elves being trouble, and then add something about the scones being good, before she reached the front door and opened it to go out. She needed air, and needed to give the dwarf his space.

She was surprisingly met on the doorstep by another dwarf, this one much whiter and shorter than the one in the kitchen. His hand had been outstretched to pull the ringer on the bell, but he had since frozen in place. So, she thought to herself, they come in twos.

The smile on the dwarf's bearded face faltered when he saw who had answered the door. "Balin," he said, hesitantly bowing, "at your service."

Balin… the name rang a bell somewhere, but again she could not exactly place him. "Andrethiril, daughter of Celeborn, at yours and your family's," she replied, returning the bow. Lady Galadriel had taught her how to properly address dwarves.

"I'm afraid I may have come to the wrong house…" Balin said, glancing from her to the Hobbit's door and back again.

"This is the house of Mr. Bilbo Baggins," she said calmly. "If you have business involving him, please come in." She stepped back and made a sweeping gesture with her arm.

Balin put a foot on the threshold, but he paused and looked up into her face.

"Have we… met before?" he asked. "You look very familiar."

So do you, Númeniel thought. Before she had time to say anything, however, Bilbo came up the passage behind her.

"He's on his fifth scone," he was complaining, "how long do you think he'll-" It was then that he noticed Balin. "Oh," he said.

"Ah," the dwarf said, his smile returning. He greeted the Hobbit the same as he had Númeniel: "Balin, at your service!"

"Good evening," Bilbo said, using the same tactic he had with Gandalf.

"Yes, yes it is." The dwarf said, looking at the night sky behind him. "Though I think it might rain later." He stepped in and nodded at both of them. "Am I late?" he asked.

"Late… for what..?" Bilbo asked, squinting and confused.

"OH!" Balin shouted, spying the other dwarf, who was engaged in the act of shaking a cookie jar to see how it opened. "Evening, brother!"

"Oh-ho! By my beard," the dwarf exclaimed, setting down the jar, "you're shorter and wider than last we met."

"Wider, not shorter," Balin corrected him. "Sharp enough for both of us."

The brothers started laughing and gripped each other's arms. They struck heads violently in greeting, then walked off in search of the pantry.

Númeniel shut the door, shaking her head. Bilbo was rubbing his face in an exasperated manner. "Not desiring to entertain guests this evening?" she teased.

"I don't know what to think, Andrethiril," Bilbo puffed, practically collapsing onto a little stool and burying his head in his hands. "What are they doing here?"

"I think this is some trick of Gandalf's that we must endure," Númeniel sighed.

"I need a moment to think," Bilbo complained, "and to gather my wits. I can't act quite politely in such a muddled state."

"I'll fetch you a glass of wine. It'll clear your head," Númeniel said, walking off quickly.

She stopped in the doorway of the pantry, meeting the glowering gaze of Balin's brother, who was helping himself to some ale. "What are you doing here, Elf." He growled. Balin, who was going through the cheeses, looked up tensely. "Now, brother…" he began.

"Fetching wine," she answered the dwarf quietly, taking down a glass cup.

"That's not what I meant," he said, getting right in her face. She could smell the ale on his breath, and she tried her hardest not to wrinkle her nose. "Who invited you here? Hobbits don't have Elven housekeepers- I'm not as dull as you may think."

"This Hobbit does," she said, maintaining eye contact while turning the spigot on the wine barrel. "It may be unusual, but Bilbo is respectable. Gandalf sent me to this part of the country to meet him, but the employment as housekeeper followed rather spontaneously."

"I should have known Gandalf was behind this," the dwarf growled. "Though it's not much like him to make such a mistake." He leaned in closer, glaring her down. "You would be a disgrace to our Company. When Thorin gets here, he will clear up this error. Until then, mind you keep to yourself."

"Dwalin, that's enough," Balin said reproachfully. "Any good friend of Gandalf's should be treated with proper dwarven respect."

"The Elves lost all claims to that long ago," he replied. He glared at Númeniel again, who raised both hands and ducked her head in a gesture of resignation and retreated from the cellar with Bilbo's wine.

She found Bilbo in the hall with his head still in his hands.

"I brought you a drink," she said.

"Thank you kindly," Bilbo sighed, taking it from her and standing up. He took a sip and exhaled.

"I declare," Númeniel whispered, glancing back down the hall, "the civility of the dwarves is not what it once was."

Bilbo followed her gaze. "Do you happen to know why they are here?"

"I know why there might be some in the area," she said, "but why they are here in Bag End I cannot say. We have Gandalf to blame for that I think."

"Why would they be in the area?" Bilbo wondered.

"Business," Númeniel sighed. "Gandalf encouraged them in it. I assumed the plan was to meet at the Inn. All I know is that I didn't invite anyone here."

"That adds up," Bilbo said thoughtfully, taking another sip of his wine. "Since they don't seem to know you."

"No they don't," Númeniel said, glancing to the pantry as she saw a slab of blue cheese fly out of it. She sighed. They were going to make a mess. "I truly didn't invite anyone here."

Bilbo pursed his lips in thought. "But then why…"

Riiiiiiiiiiing! went the doorbell. Bilbo raised his eyes to heaven. "Not more," he whispered.

"I'll get it this time," Númeniel laughed. "Who knows- it might be Gandalf."

"Then I'll go check on our other guests," Bilbo said, walking off. "Before they completely tear apart the pantry."

When Númeniel reached and opened the door, she discovered it was not Gandalf. It was two dwarves together, and they grinned when they saw her.

"Fili," said one.

"And Kili," said the other.

"At your service," they said in unison, bowing. They were very young- hardly past the age of full maturity, for they both had very short beards, Kili most of all. But Kili was taller than Fili, with dark hair and brown eyes. Fili had golden hair and blue eyes.

"And I, Andrethiril, at yours," she said, bowing in her turn.

Hearing her Elvish name, they studied her closely- and then they noticed her ears. Fili seemed to hesitate, not knowing what to say. But Kili, though also apparently surprised, didn't lose his grin. "You're rather short for an elf," he said, looking her up and down. Fili nudged him hard, but Númeniel found it amusing.

"And you're rather tall for a dwarf," she retorted.

They looked at each other for a moment more. Then Númeniel sighed, stepped back, and gestured for them to come in. As they stepped inside, Kili leaned in close to his brother and whispered: "Does Thorin know there's an elf here?" Fili only shrugged as he began to hand Númeniel his weapons. "Careful with these," he said to her, "I just had 'em sharpened." He dumped them all into her arms while she raised an eyebrow. "Did you bring your entire dagger collection with you?" she asked.

"Nah, those are just the ones he likes to take along when he's traveling," Kili stated casually, while his brother blushed bright red.

"Yeah, be careful with them," Fili grumbled, handing her a trimmed leather case full of even more daggers.

Kili turned his attention to the inside furnishings of the Hobbit hole. "It's nice, this place," he said, looking around. "Did you do it yourself?"

"No- it belongs to Mr. Baggins. It's been in his family for-" she broke off as Kili began wiping his feet on one of the ornamental wooden chests in Bilbo's hallway. She had dusted it just two days ago.

"That's my mother's glory box!" Bilbo squeaked, rushing into the hall, "can you please not do that?"

Kili drew a straight face and ceased his offensive behavior as Bilbo came in. "Kili, at your service!" He said.

"And Fili!" Added the respective dwarf popping up behind his brother. They both bowed.

"At yours and your family's!" replied Bilbo, who had seemed to have gathered enough of his wits to remember his manners. He seemed to have accepted the fact that he would be dealing with a lot of dwarves this evening.

"Fili, Kili, come on!" Said Dwalin, coming in behind Bilbo, "give us a hand!" He put an arm around Kili's shoulders and led him towards the pantry.

As Fili ambled after them, Númeniel poked her head into the hallway from the entrance, her arms full of Fili's weapons and gear. "Have we a place to put these, Mr Baggins?" She asked.

"Oh, just plop them in the hall," Bilbo called, running worriedly after the pantry invaders.

It was then that the bell rang again. Riiiinnnng!

"How many dwarves did Gandalf give leave to come here?" Númeniel whispered to herself, setting down Fili's tools carefully and pulling the door open.

If it hadn't been for her quick reflexes, she would have been crushed by the dwarves that tumbled into the entryway- eight more dwarves, to be exact. Confused and bewildered, they scrambled and rolled about where they had fallen, trying to sort out where their arms and legs were. Behind them, stooped over and looking rather pleased with himself, was Gandalf.

Númeniel folded her arms and glared at him over all the dwarves lying in a heap at her feet. "I'm sorry old friend, but you've got quite a lot of explaining to do."


Sorry that this update was slow in coming. :) I'm working on this story whenever I can, but there are only so many hours in the day. Thank you for your patience.