EEEEee! The support you guys have is incredible, I swear. I will be trying to update this one at least once a week, maybe twice if I get the time and motivation.
Inspired by a prompt I stumbled upon by lateforerebor on tumblr.
Summary: Bilba "Bell" Baggins decides that she's waited quite long enough to take her mother's advice and old stories and go on an adventure of her own. What she didn't expect was to end up in Ered Luin and be adopted by dwarves! AU, Pre-Quest, Undecided Pairings.
-;-
As Dori had suspected, Ori had taken to the halfling- or Hobbit, as he had been corrected- like a duck to water the moment he had walked through the door of their modest single floor home. Somehow, with all of his sixth sense, he had figured out that they had company, and had all but dropped his scribe tools in his eagerness to meet their new tenant.
He was now all but interrogating the Hobbit lass on anything and everything related to the Shire at their small oaken table in the next room while Dori made a light broth and tea for dinner.
"No, no, we call it a smial, Mister Ori." Came a snort from their guest. "Many a Hobbit will take great offense at their homes being called holes. Gracious, I could only imagine how Lobelia Sackville-Baggins would react!"
There was a soft cough and then a stuttered apology, to which soft laughter rang through the home.
"I don't mind at all, Mister Ori. My mother frequently called it such simply to get along better with the other folk that passed through the Shire. Come to think of it, I think she may have entertained a few dwarrow back in her day…"
"You know the proper term?" Ori blinked, looking at the Hobbit more alertly.
"Of course. My mother may not have been the most sensible of the Shire, but she got on well enough with the other folk who came through. I believe she accidentally insulted a dwarf once, was challenged to a fight and then won."
Ori's jaw dropped at the words. Fights of honor were rare things these days, but those that did occur were few and far between.
"Are you alright, Mister Ori?" Bilba asked, concern taking over her features. "I didn't say anything to insult you, did I?"
"Ori, close your mouth and quit pestering the poor lass with your questions. There will be plenty of time for that later." Dori scolded as he came into the room, carefully balancing a tray of food and a tea pot. "And no, you did not insult him, Miss Bilba. Quite the opposite, actually. That your mother fought and won an honor challenge is quite a distinction."
"Oh." Bilba replied, falling silent for a moment as Dori set down the bowls of broth and filled their cups with tea. "Thank you for the meal, Mister Dori."
"Dori, please, Miss Bilba." Dori corrected.
"And please call me Ori." Ori chimed. "If you'll be staying a while we may as well call one another by our names without all these titles."
"Very well then. Ori. Dori." Bilba tested, earning approving nods and smiles. "I thank you for your hospitality. May I ask, however, what sort of shifts I will be expected to work at your establishment?"
"The Grey Goose." Ori nodded, a smirk crossing his features before Dori cuffed him upside the head.
"You and Nori had better hope that I don't decide to beat you silly for that stunt."
Bilba decided to stay out of this topic, instead taking a sip of her tea and gasping in appreciation.
"Is this ginger? And peach? And oh, black tea. Dori, this is absolutely lovely."
Dori stared at her for a long moment, a grin spreading as he preened.
"Why thank you, lass. I happen to blend all of my own teas. Impressive that you know the distinctions in the flavor."
"If there's one thing a Hobbit knows, it's food." Bilba chuckled, setting the mug down gently. "I would be happy to learn all I can of your foods while I stay in the Blue Mountains."
"It would be my pleasure to introduce you to our cuisine, Bilba." Dori returned. "But as to your work, I would like to officially introduce you to the kitchen staff tomorrow, if possible. Everything else can be discussed then."
"I would love to." The Hobbit replied before talk returned to the Shire.
-;-
Bilba woke slowly, with a long groan as she discovered that her body had decided to stiffen sometime during the night. Yet another reminder that she was beginning to get on in years, she thought sourly as she carefully rolled, stretching as she did so. A satisfying series of pops and cracks alerted her that everything was realigning and returning to its rightful place as she finally managed to pry open her eyes.
For a brief moment, panic flooded her system as she realized that she didn't recognize her surroundings.
She was covered in a warm burgundy patchwork quilt, and she was most definitely not out in the wilds as she had been as of late.
Ah, that was right- she had finally reached the Blue Mountains the evening before, and had somehow managed to find work and a place to stay with a pair of brothers.
Oh, if her mother could see her now.
She recalled now that Dori had made sure she'd had a bath, and at seeing her reflection in the mirror had smiled at the thought of her mother. As a faunt, she had always managed to burn during the warm seasons, and had always been the recipient of many balms and ointments to keep the worst of the itching sensation at bay.
"Bilba, are you up? I'm going to head over to the shop and start opening. Ori will bring you over before heading to his lessons." A soft knock at the door had the Hobbit hoisting herself upright, blinking the sleep out of her eyes as she took in the rest of the room.
It had been dark when she had come in last night, and now that it was brightening, she could see that whoever lived in this room before her had left very little behind. A map on the far wall, pinpointed in several areas by red ink, a small table with gouges and holes that looked as though they may have been caused by some sharp object, and a wooden chest in the corner with a lock on it.
"I'll be down in a few moments." She replied.
"Ah, good morning." Dori's voice came through the door again. "I'll let Ori know, and I will see you shortly."
With that, footsteps wandered down the hall, and soft voices spoke to one another before the front door opened and closed.
Bilba sighed, glancing around before finding her bag next to the bed. With practiced motions, she opened it and pulled out another thick skirt, tunic and a small corset- not really a corset at all, but more styled as a belt. Then she dug for her comb, which had no doubt fallen to the bottom of the supplies, until victoriously brandishing it and getting to work on her thick and unruly curls. It served her right for going to bed with wet hair, she supposed.
That accomplished, she pulled back two strands of hair on either side of her face and tied them there, so as to keep her curls from impeding her vision, and quickly checked herself over before wandering down the hall on silent feet.
"Good morning, Ori." She greeted as she entered the small dining and kitchen area.
"Good morning, Bilba." The dwarf replied cheerfully, hardly glancing up from a rather large bound journal, of which he was scribbling something down almost madly. "Dori left some porridge for you, and I think there's tea left in the pot."
"Thank you." She replied, going and collecting the food before returning to the table.
"What are you writing?" she asked curiously, realizing that the runes he was creating were entirely unfamiliar to her. "I don't think I've ever seen a language like that before."
"That's because it's the secret language of the dwarves." Ori replied, finishing the last line of runes he was working on before finally looking at her. "It's completely against our laws to teach it to outsiders unless there has been an exemption made, so it's no wonder that you would not know it."
"I see." Bilba said, a little disappointed.
"Don't worry. Just because you don't know our language doesn't mean we can't teach you other things about us." He comforted. "There are so many things to our culture that so few know because they just don't care or don't want to see us as more than beggars and miners."
"Hm. If you wouldn't mind, then I would very much like to learn, Ori." She said, swallowing the mouthful of her porridge. "But I suppose that will have to wait until after Dori has finished with me."
"Good luck." Ori snorted with a shake of his head. "I love my older brother, but if there is one thing I know, it is that you will likely have to put up with a lot more than you're used to if you will make it working for him. He tends to go through cooks like children through toys."
-;-
When Bilba arrived, she walked in to see almost complete chaos.
Amid several broken chairs stood Dori, muttering darkly under his breath and surveying the damage with a scowl.
"What happened?" Ori inquired, looking around the tavern alertly.
"Those blasted cooks- other than Rorin- completely ruined the place and quit this morning." The silver haired dwarf growled. "They run an absolute disaster and I told them as much when I came in. They, in turn, did this before storming out."
"Oh my." Bilba said mildly as Ori nudged her with a knowing look.
"If you didn't have to go study with Balin, I would have you in the kitchen as well, Ori." Dori huffed. "As is it seems that I will have to step in for the day, and find another two cooks to work on short notice."
The silver haired dwarf continued his pacing and muttering for several more seconds before deflating and shaking his head.
"I suppose there's nothing for it but to teach you how to cook a few dwarven dishes, Bilba. Come, we have a while yet- we don't open the doors until midday. Ori, send my regards to Balin, would you?"
"Of course I will!" Ori straightened indignantly. "Good luck, Bilba."
"Honestly, that boy." Dori shook his head before he marched back towards the kitchen. "Rorin won't be arriving until later, so I suppose it's the two of us for now, lass. Now, the knives are always kept over here, the pots and pans here…"
By the end of it all, Bilba felt as though she'd learned a new language, what with Dori's rather precise, if not complicated explanations of how the kitchen worked. As a Hobbit, it all made perfect sense, and she had said as much to Dori, who had paused to look at her thoughtfully before nodding as if something had been confirmed in his mind.
Currently, she was polishing the silverware and plates until they positively gleamed, while Dori was putting together all of the things that he would need to cook the dishes. The teas, he had explained, would be chosen once everything had been prepped and the barkeep had selected the brews for the evening.
"And Bilba, if any lot does you a disservice, you handle it as you must." The silver haired dwarf had finished, making her feel rather mothered. "As long as you make sure that the folk who dine and drink here know that you are able to take care of yourself, they will leave you alone. However, you must be the one to put them in their place."
The words hardly inspired her, but despite that fact she felt as though Dori were looking out for her as though she were one of his children- perhaps that had been the reason for the comment last night about the Grey Goose?
Needless to say, by the time Rorin appeared the first customers had begun to filter in to the shop, numbering few but merry as they placed their orders and were served by a pleasant Hobbit lass they had never seen before. Bilba was splitting her time between prepping with Dori to serving the meals and teas that were directed of her, and Rorin quickly stepped in with practiced precision to take over some of the prep work.
"Decided te keep her, did you?" he chuckled to Dori as he flew through the vegetables he was slicing. "A lovely lass, no doubt. Be good te keep th' lads on their toes whilst they're here."
"You just keep an eye on her. Few of those who come through here know of the Shire and the Hobbits, and I worry that someone may try something as she gets settled." Dori replied, rolling out dough for bread.
"Aye, I will." Rorin promised, falling silent as Bilba returned with an empty tray and a focused expression on her features.
By the time that the miners and workers had gotten out that evening, word had spread of the lass working at the Grey Goose. Considering that it was one of the only taverns in Ered Luin, the news was something of a curiosity. Already, dwarrow were speaking of it with amusement- the small lass who wore no shoes upon her feet and went about her work for Dori, son of Ri with a smile upon her face- it was all but a miracle, they said!
Business boomed that evening, with a small line trailing into the street as they waited to see the lass who somehow managed to put up with the fussy silver haired dwarf renowned for his blended teas and brutal demeanor to his kitchen staff.
At the end of it all, it was an exhausted Hobbit and dwarf that closed the shop for the night, shooing out the last of those who had been insistent on continuing their drinks long into the night before stumbling back to their home and falling into bed, a faintly amused Ori tucking his eldest brother into bed and blowing out the lamps in both of the rooms.