A/N: Hello all! I just want to say thank you for the comments you've been leaving and the faves/follows that this has been getting! I also want to give a heads up that I have an instagram account where you can find random doodles and illustrations from both this story and 'Azying' as well as various other fandoms. My username is art . by . moosie (remove the spaces) if you're interested :)
Sleep did not come easy to the hobbit lass that night.
After showing the dwarves and Gandalf to their rooms, she had gone to bed herself only to spend most of the night tossing and turning. It had taken nearly two hours for her to finally drift off to sleep, but even then, her sleep was restless: Visions of distant lands and strange cities filled her slumbering mind, but always at the heart of the dreams was a single mountain, standing impossibly tall and terrifyingly foreboding.
When she awoke, the sun had not yet risen. She let herself lay in bed for some minutes as she tried to remember if the unexpected party last night had just been a creation of her dreams or if it had actually happened. Biting her lower lip, she got up and went over to the wall, pressing her ear against the cool plaster. In the next room over—a guest room—she could faintly hear the sound of snoring.
'It wasn't a dream then,' she thought, pulling away and rubbing her face. She lit the oil lamp on her bedside table, filling the room with a soft, warm glow. 'And I really did sign that contract. Oh dear…da' is going to be three kinds of upset with me.' She shook her head and sighed.
"It's too late now," she murmured. "Now…What does one wear when going on a quest?" As she went over to her wardrobe to sort through her clothes, she could hear the voice of her best friend, Primrose Lightfoot, scolding her in the back of her mind.
"Baylee Baggins, you are a lady and ladies do not partake in adventures! Especially ones where the company, save yourself, is comprised entirely of males!"
She quietly laughed to herself. 'Sorry, Prim…Maybe I'll bring you back some shiny trinket or a foreign book of romance.'
Sorting through her dresses, she found herself almost tempted to sneak into Bilbo's room and steal a pair of his trousers and one of his shirts. But she knew it would take too much time to sew them so that they fit her. Grabbing one of her dresses, she looked it over to see if it would work for traveling in. While there was nothing particularly outstanding about the dress, it did have one hidden and useful feature: There were pockets sewn into the skirt—large pockets.
'This is my only dress with pockets, so I suppose it'll be the one,' she thought with a small smile. Leaving it on her bed for now, she then went to a chest of drawers where she pulled out a fresh set of undergarments, including a corset and a set of petticoats. Before putting them on, however, she glanced back at the drawer that contained her bloomers and undershirts. Most of them were white, though she had a few that were dark green or brown. 'It might be best to have darker colored underthings…' Switching out the white ones she held for the green set, she then went to change into them.
"There," she murmured after some minutes. Brushing her skirt into place, she went over and looked at herself in the mirror. By all means, she looked dressed for a completely normal day—except her hair, which she had yet to brush. "I know it's not the most quest-appropriate attire, but it'll have to do."
After brushing her hair and braiding it into two pigtails, she began gathering up things to take with her on the trip. Though she hadn't done much traveling prior, she did have a rather good quality pack that Bilbo had bought her when they last went to visit relatives in Tuckborough. It still had many of the camping supplies they had used on that trip, including a bedroll, a tin box of matches and tinder, an oilskin pouch, and a set of eating utensils. To the supplies, she added a change of underclothes, a coat in case it got cold, her comb, a few handkerchiefs, her tobacco pouch, and her pipe.
'Now all that's left is the food,' she thought. She then frowned. 'Which…we don't have much left that would be good for traveling with. Thorin mentioned wanting to leave by eleven—perhaps I'll be able to stop by the butcher's and the bakery before then?'
Opening the drawer of her nightstand, she pulled out her coin purse. It felt decently heavy, giving her more confidence that she'd be able to buy some supplies before they left; she slipped it into one of her hidden pockets. Then, slinging her pack over her shoulder and grabbing her lamp, she quietly slipped out of her room.
As she walked through the halls, she looked around, taking time to properly memorize the way everything looked and exactly where it sat. Her stomach churned as she thought about how this could, possibly, be the last time she ever saw her home again. She quickly scolded herself for having such a dark thought.
'I should, most definitely, have a bite to eat,' she silently told herself. 'I didn't get much last night and I'm fairly certain dwarves don't have the extensive meal schedule we hobbits do.' Setting the lamp down on the kitchen table—which she had cleared off of all the dishes the previous night—she got to work stirring the coals of the stove, seeing if any were left from last night. Glad to see that there were a few small embers, she gathered them up before building the fire anew.
'I wonder if I should cook anything for the dwarves…? Not that I'd know what they'd want for breakfast. No doubt the rest of the pantry…' Shaking her head, she got a small pot and filled it with a bit of water. She set it on the grate so it could heat up before fetching her waterskin from the very back of the pantry. 'Da's is here, too…Should I fill it for him? …But is he even coming with us?'
Just in case, however, she grabbed it, too, and headed for the kitchen.
But before she could leave the pantry, she was greeted by the silhouette of one of the dwarves in the kitchen. As he turned towards the sink, she caught a glimpse of golden hair in the lamp light—Fili. Not wanting to startle him too bad, she cleared her throat.
"Good morning," she then said.
He looked up from pushing down on the pump. "Ah, good morning, Miss Baggins!" he said with a grin. "You're up early."
"As are you." She waited for him to finish filling his cup with water before she went to fill the two skins.
He chuckled as he took a drink. "Aye. The excitement kept me from sleepin'," he admitted. "I take it the same could be said for you?"
She nodded. "I got a few hours of sleep, luckily, but by the end of the day, I'm sure I'll be wishing I had gotten more."
"I'm sure most of us will be feeling the same." He watched as she set the two waterskins on the table before lifting the lid of a large crock and, having to stand on her tiptoes, reached inside. She pulled out a scoop of…something, adding it into the now-boiling pot of water over the grate. "What're you making?"
"A spot of porridge."
"Just porridge?" His brow rose; he normally had porridge as a starter to breakfast.
"Yes. I'm afraid I'm not very hungry this morning."
At that, he let out a small chuckle. "Is that so? I was told that hobbits have nine or ten meals a day due to always being hungry!" He leaned against the wall, still watching her.
Baylee couldn't help but burst into a fit of giggles. "We have seven meals," she corrected, "and we don't always have all of them. In fact, the seven-meal day is usually more common among upper-class hobbits since they don't have to do much manual labor."
"Huh…I suppose that makes sense. More free time on your hands that way." He took another drink of water. "Does your father know you're coming with us, by the way?"
She bit her lower lip. "Not…exactly…" she admitted, feeling her cheeks start to grow warm. "I went to tell him last night, but he had already fallen asleep. He's not used to this sort of commotion."
"Which is strange. When Gandalf told us about the meeting, he assured us that Bilbo was a most adventurous hobbit with a love for the unknown." He chuckled as she tried to reach a jar on a shelf that was just out of her reach. Before she could grab her stool, though, he walked over and plucked the jar from the shelf for her.
"Thank you," she said, cheeks growing a bit warm. As she opened the jar, Fili could see that it contained honey. Using the dipper, she drizzled some into the pot of porridge. "You can blame me for my da's lack of adventurous enthusiasm," she then explained. "Once I was born, he became a bit of a protective worrywart."
"Sounds like Dori," he snickered. "You haven't seen it yet, but once we're out on the road, you'll witness just how much he mothers Ori. He tries to mother Nori, too, but Nori won't stand for it."
"Would I be correct in guessing that those of you with similar-sounding names are related then?" she asked. "I know Balin and Dwalin are brothers…"
He nodded. "Aye, that you would. Oin and Gloin; Dori, Nori, and Ori; Bofur and Bombur; and me and Kili are sets of brothers. Bifur is cousin to Bofur and Bombur while Kili and I are Thorin's nephews."
At that, she paused. "You two are his nephews?" They acted so different from Thorin, she would have never guessed.
"Aye. Though, Kili's got more of the family resemblance. I take after our father." He watched her pull the pot off the heat before going to grab a bowl from the cupboard.
"That makes sense. I apparently look more like my mother, though I've got my da's nose and jaw." she chuckled. Returning to the stove, she poured the porridge into her bowl. "This has to cool down a fair bit before I can eat it. Would you like me to make you anything…?"
He thought for a moment. "Hmm…Would frying a few sausages and eggs be asking too much?"
"Not at all. I usually make that for da's breakfast," she chuckled. It was a bit strange to her how, just last night, he had been walking on tables, kicking dishware, and chugging ale and now he was being quite polite and staying off the furniture. 'Part of me wonders if Gandalf told them all to be on their worse behavior,' she thought, heading across the hall.
When she returned to the kitchen with eggs and sausages, Fili was refilling his cup with water. There was movement behind them and, looking over her shoulder, she saw Kili step into the kitchen while yawing.
"There you are, Fi," he said through a second yawn. "Was wonderin' where you got off to." He gave his brother a sleepy smile before seeing Baylee at the stove. "Good mornin', Miss Baggins. Ooh, are you making breakfast, then? You'll need a couple dozen more eggs an' sausages than that for all of us."
"Don't be a knucklehead," Fili scolded. "She offered to cook me some food while her own breakfast cools down."
"I could make you some, too, if you'd like," she offered. Though she wasn't sure why she offered—something told her that if she made food for these two, she'd have to make food for the other eleven…And that would cut into her time buying supplies.
Kili grinned broadly. "I'd really appreciate that, Miss Baggins. And if you need any help, Fi and I could be of assistance."
"I should be able to manage," she smiled, "but I'll let you know if I do need something." Internally, she was praying that the others would remain asleep for some time yet. "Also, you don't have to keep calling me 'Miss Baggins'. You can call me Baylee if you'd like." Using a knife, she started to separate the links of sausage into individual portions.
The brothers moved to sit at the kitchen table, staying out of her way. All three were quiet for a bit, the only sounds heard being that of her cooking and the muted snoring of some of the other dwarves.
Once the sausages were frying away in the pan, Kili spoke up. "So, do you have everything you'll need packed?" he questioned. Getting up, he moved to get himself a cup of water.
"Almost, though I'll have to stop by the market before we leave." She grabbed a spoon so she could eat some of her porridge. "I'm afraid I have nothing in the way of food at the moment. At least, nothing that's fit for traveling." As she tasted her breakfast, she found that it was a bit bland; getting a pinch of salt, she stirred it around and tasted it again. Better.
"I suggest getting more hard breads and dried fruits than meats," Fili told her. "Kili and uncle are pretty good when it comes to hunting, so we'll have a good supply of fresh meat."
"Though still get some," Kili added. "It'll be useful on those nights when we don't get fresh meat." He returned to his seat and took a drink of his water.
"What other supplies do you have?" Fili questioned.
She turned slightly, grabbing the wooden handle of the frying pan to give it a shake. "A bedroll, a cloak, a tin of matches and tinder, an oilcloth bag, and eating utensils. I also added in my pipe and tobacco as well as some spare clothes and handkerchiefs."
The brothers did their best to bite back a laugh. "Handkerchiefs?" Kili repeated, the amusement all too obvious in his voice.
A small pout came to her lips. "You never know when the need will arise for a handkerchief," she replied. "They're useful for more things than just blowing your nose." She looked over at the window, seeing that the sky had grown much lighter since she first woke up.
"I supposed they'd make useful bandages…or napkins," Fili chuckled.
"Or for wiping the blood off your face after a fight," Kili added. "Though, I doubt Miss Baylee here will do much fighting—no offense meant of course."
"None taken. I'd actually prefer to hide rather than to fight anyway." She rubbed looked down into her bowl. "Though, I did tell Master Balin and your uncle that I'd be willing to learn…" She was surprised to find she had already eaten half the bowl; she must've been hungrier than she thought.
Once more, Kili found himself holding back a fit of laughter. Fili, though, raised his brow and a small grin came to his lips.
"Actually, with your sneaking skills—"
"They're not sneaking skills. It's not my fault if no one notices me!"
"Sounds like sneaking to me," Fili chuckled, watching as her cheeks turned red. "But, as I was saying, with those skills and a pair of knives, I think you'd be fairly decent at cutting some tendons."
Her nose scrunched up at the thought of doing such a thing. She had helped break down a couple of pig and goat carcasses when she had gone to stay with family in Tuckborough, but that was the extent of her tendon-cutting experience. Reaching over, she gave the pan another little shake. "I'm not sure I'd be the best person for that kind of job. I just can't picture myself hurting a living thing."
"Oh, you'll think differently when it's an orc you're looking at," Kili assured her. "Fi and me thought the same as you when we first learned to fight. But believe me—orcs make it all too easy to shove a blade into their guts." Standing up, he moved to fetch her a plate to put the sausages on.
"Well…I suppose I'll find out in the future," she said, though her tone was filled with uncertainty. She knew the trip would be fraught with dangers—why else had the contract contained so many different clauses in regards to manners of death?—but she didn't think the dangers would be spoken of so casually.
'Then again,' she told herself, 'outside the Shire, the world is vastly different.'
As Kili handed her the plate, she thanked him and moved to put the sausages into it. Then, adding a large dollop of butter to the pan, she started to crack some eggs into it. She cracked them one-handedly, which seemed to leave the brothers in awe.
"I've never seen someone crack an egg with one hand," Fili gawked. "How do you do that?"
She blinked, a little surprised by their reaction to such a mundane thing. "I've…never really thought about it, to be honest," she admitted. Looking down at the egg in her hand, she frowned; how did she do it?
Grabbing a small bowl, she carefully watched herself as she tried to crack the egg into it. Normally, the egg would be nicely split in half and the contents would plop down into the pan or bowl without any bits of shell. What happened this time, however, was she ended up completely smashing the egg in her hand. Fili and Kili snickered behind her.
Her nose scrunched up. "Well, I guess it's just going to have to remain a secret," she chuckled, moving to go rinse her hand off.
"Ah, I don't think we'd be able to do it anyway," Kili told her. He watched as she returned to the stove where she sprinkled some salt and pepper over the eggs. "While we can do quite delicate work with our hands, I think our fingers would be too big for cracking an egg like that."
"Hm? Why's that?" Picking up her spatula, she flipped over the eggs before taking the plate of sausage and, turning around, set it on the dining table.
Fili held his hand up so she could see it—while it looked to be of average size when it was closer to his body, now that he held it out, Baylee could see that it was much larger than her own hand. His palm was wide and square in shape while his fingers were shorter and thicker than she expected.
"As you can see, our hands are a bit different than yours," he told her, amusement in his voice. "Our hands are meant for working metal and stone."
"And bashing in skulls," Kili added. "While your hands…" He glanced down at her hands, which still held the platter of sausages only to snickered. "They're just downright doll-like."
Her cheeks grew warm yet again though she knew he was right—especially compared to their hands. "Well, I assure you, they're not nearly as fragile as a doll's hands." She went to the cabinet and grabbed two plates. Taking them back to the stove, she carefully lifted the eggs out of the pan and placed them all onto one plate. Then, adding a bit more butter, she cracked more eggs into the pan.
"Depends on what the material the doll is made out of," Fili joked. "Porcelain and cloth? Perhaps. But stone, wood, or metal…? I'd have to put my money on the doll."
Sprinkling more salt and pepper, she felt her brow rise. "…There are dolls made of metal and stone?"
"For us dwarves, there are." Kili wore the slightest frown as his brother got the first plate of eggs. "Stone and metal can be far more plentiful than cloth, wood, or porcelain when you live in the mountains."
"I suppose that makes sense." Using the back of her hand, she covered her mouth as she yawned.
"Mmm…Somethin' smells good." The three looked over at the archway to find Nori stepping into the kitchen. Behind him followed Ori and Dwalin. "Is there any more where that came from?"
Baylee inwardly frowned. 'Looks like I'm stuck making breakfast,' she thought.
When ten o'clock rolled around, it found Baylee down the main road of Hobbiton—and she wasn't the only one. Some of dwarves were there, too, buying last minute supplies of their own from vendors in the market. The rest, she knew, were either off fetching the ponies or having a last-minute mug of beer at the Green Dragon.
She had yet to see her father that morning.
As she headed towards the bakery, her stomach twisted and churned with nerves. Surely, she would have enough time to quickly run back to Bag End and say goodbye? Or maybe he was already awake and, upon finding that she wasn't there, was instead furious with her and hoping to never see her again?
'No,' she told herself after that last thought. 'No, da' would never think such a thing. He'd be furious, yes, but not enough to never want to see me again…'
A bell rang as she opened the door and stepped into the bakery. She did her best to clear her mind of her worried thoughts as she looked around. A small smile came to her lips as she was surrounded by the scents of warm bread, spicy rolls, and sugary pastries.
"Ah, good mornin' to you, Miss Baylee!" an older woman came out from the back room, a bit of flour stuck to her cheek and plenty on her apron. "What can I do for you this morning?" She brushed her apron off slightly, creating a little white cloud around herself.
"Good morning, Mrs. Chubb," she replied. "I was wondering if you had anything that'd keep well while traveling?"
A thoughtful look came to her face. "Hmm…You know, I think Marigold actually made up some hard breads the other day," she said. "Let me go check with her." Before Baylee could say another word, the woman had disappeared into the backroom.
'Oh, those cinnamon buns look scrumptious,' she thought, walking over to the counter where a glass cake stand held a dozen or so rolls. 'If my stomach was behaving better, I should like to have three or four…A shame they don't keep well while traveling.'
The swishing of skirts drew her attention away from the rolls and over to Mrs. Chubb in time to see her set a small crate down. "Here you go, dear," she chirped. "All of these were thrice baked just four days ago. Marigold says the ones with the green ribbon are more on the savory side while the red ribbon ones are sweeter."
Walking over, she peered down into the box to find hard breads of all sizes and shapes. "Hmm…I wonder how much I'll need," she thought aloud.
"That depends on how far and how long you'll be gone for, now wouldn't it?" Mrs. Chubb smiled, her brow rising as she watched the younger hobbit pull out a bundle of the savory bread.
"Well, you see, I'm not sure of either," Baylee admitted as she pulled out an extra two bundles. "I'm…going on a trip that's going to take me rather far from home and I'm not sure just how long I'll be gone." She knew better than to say she was leaving the Shire—not only would it possibly stir up some nasty rumors, but it could also tarnish the family name.
She already nearly did that once. She didn't want it to happen again.
"Hm. That does make it tough to decide," Mrs. Chubb frowned. "Hard breads tend to be used more of a last-resort ration or to pad out thin meals, so you usually don't need as much as you think."
Looking at the three bundles she had already pulled out, she did a quick count. Each one had twelve pieces of hard bread that were slightly bigger than the size of her hand. That surely had to be enough…right?
"Then I think I'll take these three," she said after another moment of debate. "How much will that be?"
"Three copper pennies, dear."
"Just three?" she questioned, her brow rising slightly.
Mrs. Chubb nodded with a small laugh. "Hardtack is the simplest item to make, dear. It takes almost no work, so to charge anything more would practically be theft!" Shaking her head, she chuckled as she took the three pennies from the lass who unshouldered her pack. "My, my, dear—it really does look like you plan on being gone a while!"
Baylee's cheeks flushed somewhat. "Some months, I'd wager." Undoing the buckle on her bag, she loosened the drawstring and carefully tucked the bundles of hardtack away.
"And where is it you'll be going, dear?"
"Oh, just—just around." She forced a smile as she looked up at the older woman. It wasn't quite a lie, but she certainly felt like she was telling a big fib. "I thought I'd take a few months to do some exploring—you know, have my fun before I start thinking about finding myself a lad and settling down."
At that, an understanding look came to Mrs. Chubb's face. "Ahh, yes, I understand completely," she laughed. "A good thing you're doing this, then. Your future husband will thank you for it, trust me."
Her brow rose. "Why is that?" Closing her pack back up, she stood upright once more.
"Because then you won't be asking him to join you on your travels through the countryside," she explained. "Unless, of course, you marry a Took or a Brandybuck. They enjoy such things." She watched as Baylee put her pack on once more and started to head for the door. "Well, fair ventures to you, Miss Baylee! I hope you enjoy your trip."
"Thank you, Mrs. Chubb. And thank you again for the hard bread!" She gave the woman a small wave before stepping back out into the morning air. Taking a deep breath, she went back into the street. "Now, to the butcher's shop," she murmured.
Her stomach started to flutter anew—this time, however, it was a different sort of nerves that did it. Biting her lower lip, she walked through the market; she could see Gloin and Oin haggling with Mr. Lightfoot for some of his smoked fish. To her left, Bombur was buying up plenty of carrots and potatoes from Farmer Longholes.
Before she realized it, she was standing in front of the butcher's shop and she swallowed hard. Peeking in through the window, she saw Halfast bringing down an entire rope of sausage from a hook. From where she stood, she wasn't able to see who he was serving, though.
Giving herself a mental pep talk, she forced herself to walk forward and into the shop, hearing another little bell ring as the door pushed past it. To her surprise, she found Fili and Kili standing at the counter, an assortment of meats laid out before them.
"Be with you in just a—" Halfast started to say, but when he saw who it was, he almost dropped the rope of sausage in surprise. "M-m-miss Baylee! You're in awfully early!"
Fili and Kili grinned down at her as she stepped towards the counter. "We thought you would've been by here already," Fili told her before she could speak. "Good thing we didn't buy out all the jerky."
"O-Oh, you three know one another?" Halfast asked, glancing between the hobbit and the dwarves. He set the rope of sausages onto the counter along with all the other meat the dwarves were buying.
Baylee felt her cheeks starting to grow hot. "W-we met last night," she explained. "It-it—it's a bit of a long story, really—"
"Long?" Kili snorted. "We had dinner at your place and you agreed to come on a quest with us! That's not long at all."
"A quest?" Halfast gawked, his blush leaving his face. In fact, most of the color drained away, leaving him quite pale.
"Mhm. Over the Misty Mountains, to the Lonely Mountain," Kili continued, oblivious to how flustered Baylee had become. "Might fight some orcs, kill a dragon…Heroic stuff, really. Miss Baggins here might even get to kill an orc or two!"
Fili, on the other hand, did notice how red she had become. Clearing his throat, he laid a single gold coin on the counter. "Ki, we need get back to the others," he declared. "Uncle will be wanting our help with the ponies soon enough." He pushed a large sack into his brother's hands before filling it up with the meat.
Halfast, still pale and quite clearly in shock, picked up the gold coin and stared at it. "I-I'm afraid we don't have change for this just yet, m-master dwarf," he stammered. "It's st-still a bit early in the day…"
Fili dismissively waved his hand. "Whatever's left, use it for Miss Baggins' purchase." Before anything further could be said, he was dragging Kili out of the shop.
Baylee, who had closed her eyes and started wishing for nothing more than to disappear, let out a small sigh. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes to find Halfast rubbing the back of his neck.
"You're really goin' on a quest, then?" he asked after an awkward moment of silence. "With a bunch of dwarves?"
Biting her lower lip, she nodded. "I am." Her voice was small. "Th-there's a chance da' might be coming along, too…a slim chance, but one nonetheless." She shifted slightly, finding herself unable to look at him.
He nodded slowly and rubbed the back of his neck. "…D-do you know how long you'll be gone for, then?"
She shook her head. "No idea, to be honest…I'm-I'm not even sure how far it is that we'll be going."
"…You-you'll need a fair bit of jerky then. And probably some salt pork!" To her surprise, he started to sound rather excited. "Have you stopped by Mrs. Chubb's yet to get hardtack?"
Her brows furrowed slightly and she looked up to find him digging through a crate on the back counter. "I just came from there, actually."
"And you've got plenty of supplies? A bedroll, canteen, tinderbox—those sorts of things?" He pulled a bag from the crate before rifling through it some more.
"Y-yes. Even a spare coat if things get cold." She was confused—why did he sound so happy? Most hobbits would be appalled to learn she was leaving the nice, peaceful Shire to go adventuring with a troupe of dwarves!
"You'll be going through the mountains; it will get cold," he laughed. He pulled out a couple more bags before moving them to the counter in front of her. "Be right back." He darted into the backroom and Baylee could hear him shoving things aside and with little regard as to where he was shoving them. She jumped when there was a loud crash, but couldn't help but quietly giggle when he called back, "Nothing broke!"
'This…certainly isn't the kind of reaction I expected from him,' she told herself. She bit her lower lip again. 'Unless he's excited that he'll be rid of me for quite some time…'
Halfast burst back into the room, a triumphant grin on his lips as he set down two large, paper-wrapped slabs of salt pork as well as an oilskin bag. "If those dwarves hunt, then between the fresh meat and this stuff, you'll be good to go for quite a while, Miss Baylee," he told her. He opened all of the bags before pouring their contents into the larger, oilskin bag. "I know cherrywood's your favorite, so I did my best to get you all of the jerky smoked with it."
Just when she thought her cheeks could cool down a bit, they grew warm once more. "Th-thank you," she said, surprised he'd do such a thing. "…H-Halfast?"
"Yes, Miss Baylee?" He glanced over at her as he tied the bag shut. "Can I see your bag, by the way?"
"May…may I ask why you're so excited all of a sudden?" Part of her was scared to hear the answer. Unshouldering her bag, she set it on the counter for him.
His head tilted ever so slightly, his grin remaining in place. "How often is it that a hobbit gets to go on an adventure with a bunch of dwarves?" He made quick work of opening her pack and tucking the slabs of pork and the pouch of jerky away. "I've been wanting to explore outside the Shire my whole life, but my ol' man will hardly let me go visit fam in Tuckborough by myself!" After closing her pack back up, he came around the counter and grabbed the bag. "At least one of us Took-bloods gets to do something exciting."
"To be honest, I'm fairly certain my da' wishes I'd be staying in the Shire," she told him. She turned around, letting him help her put the pack back on; it weighed a good deal more now that the salt pork had been added to it. "I just hope he's not too upset with me about all of this…"
"You're his daughter, Miss Baylee. He can't stay mad at you even if he wanted to." As she turned around to face him once more, he rubbed the back of his neck. His smile had turned from enthusiastic to shy once more. "…Wh-when you come back, do you think could you tell me about it? Your adventure, I mean. I-I'd really like to hear about it."
Baylee nodded, a smile on her lips. "Of course I will," she told him. "…If I…If I come back while the weather's still fair, maybe I could tell you while we have a little picnic?"
His eyes widened and his cheeks turned bright red, but his smile seemed to double in size. "I'd-I'd really like that, actually," he told her, rubbing the back of his neck a second time.
Feeling a bit emboldened by this pleasant turn of events, she took a step forward and, rising onto her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. "Then it's a deal," she told him, her voice a touch on the quiet a side and her cheeks growing quite hot. "When I come back, I promise we'll have a picnic and I'll do my best to tell you everything I remember." She glanced past him at the clock. Ten thirty. "I…should probably get going. We're supposed to—"
Halfast unexpectedly silenced her in quite a bold fashion: Leaning forward, he cupped her cheek in his palm before pressing his lips against her. Baylee's eyes widened in shock only to quickly fall shut as she kissed him in return; her whole being suddenly felt lighter than air.
He slightly drew back after a moment, his gaze locking with hers. "Stay safe, alright?" he whispered. "I know you can't make any promises…"
"I'll do my best," she replied, her voice just as soft. Her heart fluttered as he kissed her a second time, though this one was shorter than the first.
"Goodbye, Miss Baylee," he murmured, using a great deal of willpower to move his hand from her cheek. "I'll see you when you come home." A shy smile came to his lips. "I might even beat Miss Primrose to greeting you."
Her cheeks flushed and she let out a small laugh. "I'm sure you will; you're taller than her." Feeling quite reluctant to do so, she turned away from him and headed towards the door. Before leaving, though, she looked back over at him, giving him a small, shy wave.
Making her way back towards the Green Dragon, she found herself still feeling as if she were walking on clouds. 'Never in a million years would I have expected that to happen,' she thought, doing her best to keep a normal pace instead of skipping like she wanted to do. 'Halfast has always been so shy—sometimes, shyer than me! I don't know what made him grow so brave back there, but I most certainly didn't mind it…Oh, if only I had time to go tell Prim!'
She quietly giggled to herself as she pictured Primrose demanding every little detail about how the kiss came to be.
Coming around the corner, she saw a lineup of fifteen ponies and one horse standing in front of the Green Dragon. Her head tilted slightly in curiosity; she had seen ponies before, but always from afar. As she drew closer, she saw that they were bigger than she expected—but not nearly as big as the horse standing at the end of the line.
'I suppose that one's for Gandalf,' she thought. 'The rest of us are too small to get our feet even close to the…stirrup, I think they're called?'
"Ah, there ya are, Miss Baggins!" She looked over in time to see Bofur coming out of the inn, a bit of beer foam still clinging to his upper lip and mustache. "We were startin' to wonder if you'd run off an' hid so you—" He paused when he noticed how red her cheeks were. "Are you feelin' alright?"
"I feel perfectly fine," she replied, brows furrowing slightly in confusion. "Why do you ask?"
"Your face is as red as a tomato," he chuckled.
Her eyes widened ever so slightly and she cleared her throat. "Is-is it? I hadn't noticed. You've a bit of foam on your lip, by the way."
He blinked and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Seeing the residue of the beer foam soaking into the fabric, he chuckled. "Ah, so I did! Thanks for tellin' me, lass." He then looked over his shoulder at the building. "The beer here is pretty good—doesn't quite compare to dwarvish ale, but it certainly hits the spot. We've still got a little bit of time left before we leave; you might want t' get yourself a drink."
"Oh, no, thank you," she replied. "I was actually hoping I could head back home to say goodbye to da', since it doesn't seem like he'll be coming along…but I don't think there'll be enough time." She quietly sighed, glancing towards Bag End; though it was a little speck from where she stood, she could have sworn she saw the door open. Quickly telling herself not to get her hopes up, she looked back at the inn to see Fili and Kili stepping out with Thorin and Balin.
"See, Bofur? I told you she hadn't run off!" Fili grinned. He then looked at the hobbit. "Did you get everything you needed from the butcher's?"
She nodded. "I did. I also got hardtack from the bakery like you recommended." From the corner of her eye, she watched as Thorin went over to a brown pony with a black mane and tail.
"Ah, I knew there was something we forgot to ask you about," Kili chuckled. "We were going to ask you where the bakery's located—we were hoping to get a couple of pastries for the road."
"Oh, it's quite close to us, actually," she told him. "Follow the road back towards the market and look for the bright pink door. You might want to hurry, though: It's nearing elevensies and Mrs. Chubb likes to close up a bit early."
"Thank you, Miss Baylee!" Wearing matching grins, the brothers looked over at Thorin. "Do you want anything, uncle?" Fili questioned.
Thorin looked over his shoulder at them, his brow raised. "Surprise me," was all he said before turning back to his work of arranging the contents of the saddlebags. As he moved, Baylee could see the head of a strange, pointed ax poking out from under one of the bags.
In fact, as she looked at the other ponies, she could see more weapons tucked amongst the bags and parcels. One pony had a mace, another a boar spear, yet another had a mattock…They were practically a traveling armory!
"Miss Baggins?" She was drawn from her thoughts by Balin. "The smallest pony—that strawberry roan down there—is yours. I'm afraid she's the smallest we've got. I hope she'll be alright."
"I'm sure she'll be fine," she replied, smiling. "Thank you." She walked down the line of ponies until she reached the little mare. Despite being the smallest, she still seemed rather large to Baylee, who held her hand out so the mare could sniff it. "You've got such a pretty coat," she murmured, though her words were somewhat shaky. She had never ridden a pony before—or, if she had, she couldn't remember.
When the mare had given her approval, she reached out and stroked the side of the pony's neck. 'How do I go about getting my pack onto you in such a way that it won't fall off?' she thought, looking at the saddlebags. From what she could tell, they were already full of items and there were a couple of extra bags added into the mix. She unshouldered her own bag, though frowned. 'Maybe I can use a bit of rope to tie it into place…except…I can barely reach your back…'
"Looks like we should have brought you a stool." Gloin walked over, his brow raised as he looked down at her. "Here, lassie. Let me help ya." Grabbing her pack for her, he slung it over the mare's back and used a bit of rope to secure it into place.
"Th-thank you, Master Gloin," she said, her cheeks turning a bit pink as he walked off to his own pony. A soft sigh left her mouth. "Now I'm wondering if I'm just going to be a bother," she murmured to herself.
Watching the others as they readied their ponies and climbed on, she made sure to pay particular attention to how they were mounting the animals. If they were on the left side of the pony, they'd put their left foot in the stirrup and, holding onto the front of their saddles, pull themselves up before swinging their right leg over the animal's back. It didn't seem to be a terribly hard feat to accomplish.
'Now to hope I don't accidentally flash them my bloomers,' she thought. She raised her foot up, just barely able to slip it into the stirrup. With a little hop and a little grunt, she held onto the saddle and pulled herself up. It was a bit awkward swinging her leg over, given she was in a dress with some petticoats, but after a moment, she managed. She then took another moment to adjust her dress so that it wasn't an obnoxious poof around her.
Only then, did a small, victorious laugh left her mouth as she felt rather proud of herself. "If only da' could see me," she murmured. Once more, she looked towards Bag End, a sinking feeling beginning to arise in her stomach. It quickly disappeared, however, as she saw a familiar face running towards the group.
"Da'!?" she squeaked, more than a little surprised to see her father.
"Wait!" Bilbo, red-faced and panting, came to a halt in front of the group, his hand clutching the contract. "I-I signed it!" Doubling over, he held onto his knees as he gasped for air; luckily, he didn't faint this time. After a moment of catching his breath, he stood upright and held the contract out to Balin, who had ridden towards him.
Leaning over, the older dwarf took the contract from him and, bringing out a pocket-glass, carefully inspected it. "Everything appears to be in order," he stated. Lowering the pocket-glass, he smiled at Bilbo. "Welcome, Master Baggins, to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield."
"Get him a pony," Thorin ordered, not sounding entirely impressed. He looked to his left as he heard running; Fili and Kili were racing towards the group, their arms laden with sweet pastries.
Bilbo quickly shook his head. "Oh, n-no, no, I assure you, that won't be necessary, thank you!" he stammered. "But I—I'm sure I can keep up on foot! I've done my fair share of walking holidays—just ask Baylee—" He then paused. Searching along the line for his daughter, he spotted her towards the very end. In a huff, he marched over to her. "And you, young lady! You need to get down off that pony and return to Bag End right this moment!" He wagged a scolding finger at her.
"I can't, da'," she told him. "I signed a contract, just like you."
His eyes bulged. "Y-y-you did what!?"
"Signed a contract," she repeated, her gut starting to fill with guilt. "I can't just very well up and abandon things when they're not even started yet." Biting her lower lip, she glanced away from him. She knew he was upset with her and for wholly understandable reasons, but she was officially the Company's Mouse-Lass…And she had promised Halfast that she would come back with stories to tell him.
Bilbo's lips were drawn back in a thin line and he put his hands on his hips in a fatherly fashion. After a moment, he let out a frustrated sigh and looked away. "Blasted Took blood," he grumbled. "We're supposed to be good, respectable hob—'" He let out a small yelp as Bofur and Bifur road by on either side of him and, grabbing his arms, lifted him up off the ground. They carried him like that until they were by the final pony, where they plopped him down atop its back.