Chapter 4: Long Lists

Edyth trails along, staying extremely close to the blonde Dwarf as she has no idea what to expect. It only took the three knocks for the entire band of Dwarves to quieten down; something her brother had tried and failed at for two hours. Their leader, Gandalf had said. Which was not surprising with the amount of respect he commanded when he had yet to even enter the building.

Her brother was somewhere in the mix, but she couldn't find him, and he didn't even come out to open the door. And Edyth certainly doesn't want to. Gandalf is the one to walk forward, hunched over and pulls on the round door's handle.

Edyth swallows thickly, shrinking backwards as the figure on the other side becomes visible. He is tall – not as tall as Dwalin – but taller than almost all the other Dwarves. He has long dark hair, decorated with a few strands of grey protruding from his forehead. Instead of having a finely decorated beard, his was kept short and neat, a fitting look.

"Gandalf," he sings. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find." He steps through the threshold and Edyth becomes quite ashamed at the state of her home. "I lost my way. Twice." He unravels his cloak, walking into the centre of the entrance where the Dwarves surround, still in silence. "I wouldn't have found it at all, had it not been for that mark on the door."

"Mark?" Bilbo questions, marching forward. "There's no mark on that door, it was painted a week ago!" He inspects the door, but Gandalf closes it. Edyth rolls her shoulders back, finding some of her confidence again.

"There is a mark, I've put it there myself," Gandalf counters. The leader smiles to his left at Kili. His nephew, she remembers. "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield." As Thorin leers at the Hobbit, Gandalf stretches his neck, looking around the company. "And we have another host hiding around here somewhere."

Edyth is shoved forward by Fili, almost knocking into the Dwarf with the dual pointed hat. Mumbling an apology, glaring over her shoulder, Edyth reluctantly makes her way to the front.

Gandalf smiles, gesturing a hand towards her. "Ah, here she is. Miss Edyth Baggins. Bilbo's sister." Thorin turns around in her direction.

She may as well not be wearing clothes. Well, not in that way. But Thorin's eyes pierce so straight through her that he could probably tell what she had for breakfast. Edyth can only stare, knowing that she should greet first as is the host's job, but nothing comes to mind.

But the trance is broken as Thorin nods once, slowly but deeply in her direction before turning around to Gandalf once more and her brother. "So, this is the Hobbit? Tell me, Mr Baggins, have you done much fighting?"

"Pardon?"

"Axe or sword, what's your weapon of choice?"

Edyth walks slowly backwards, feeling out of place in the centre. Her back collides with someone else much earlier than she anticipates. One quick glance over her shoulder and her eyes meet with Kili's who is sending her a questioning brow. Folding her arms, Edyth takes a quick step to the side.

Bilbo strains a smile, rocking on his feet. "Well, I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know." His joke isn't taken well and even Edyth sighs. "But I fail to see why that's relevant."

That is also what Edyth is indeed questioning. Why is he being drowned in questions: of course he doesn't know how to fight. You wouldn't find a Hobbit west of Bree who knows much in the way of weapons.

"I thought as much," Thorin sneers, crossing his arms over his chest. He smirks, looking around at his company. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." While the Dwarves laugh, Edyth pinches her brows in distaste. He is a guest in their home, leader to the band of Dwarves who have pillaged their food and now he is insulting his host.

Edyth steps forward once again, her mouth ready to scold this so-called leader but she is immediately shut down by one look from Gandalf. The Grey Wizard glances around. "Let us move back into the dining room, shall we?"

The Dwarves around her move back the way they came, even including Bilbo who is lost but evidently trying to keep up. Edyth holds a glare back as Thorin passes her, keeping her eyes trained on Gandalf.

Gandalf submits to her strong gaze, stopping by her side. The pair are silent until everybody has moved out of earshot. "The rest of the lot, I can handle," she begins in a hushed hiss. "They are rowdy but for the most part, kind and sociable. But Oakenshield? Why he wasn't even inside for more than a minute before insulting Bilbo." Her hands are placed firmly on her hips, feeling the itch to pace.

"Thorin is a…strong character," Gandalf fumbles. "But I think if you got to know him, you find that you'd actually get along quite well."

"Well good thing I won't be," she snaps. "He'll be gone by morning. And you'd better find a new Hobbit hole to lead his arrogant behind to next time." She huffs out the final built-up air in her chest in one blow, dropping her hands from her hips. "Now excuse me while I try and scavenge for something to give him. Just because he was rude, does not give me the excuse to be."

As Edyth storms off, Gandalf smiles to himself. "Well, that went slightly better than I expected."

Edyth manages to put together something, and with a bowl and tankard in hand, she makes her way from the kitchen to the makeshift dining room. It is unsettling to hear it so quite yet so full. The Dwarves have all found seats at the now cleared table. Bilbo leans against the wall to the side.

"Here," she mutters, placing the stew down in front of him. "It's a little light in meat but it's all I could find."

Thorin peers up to her, nodding his head again. "Thank you." It is soft, matching the atmosphere of the room. Their interaction was the sole centre of attention. "No doubt you are running low in supplies."

The softness of his face morphs into a humoured and slightly pompous smile. Edyth doesn't smile back, only cocking her head in agreement. "It's been a long night," is all she manages to reply, shrinking back to the wall with her brother. Once at his side, she grips his forearm. "Let's just let them finish this meeting," she whispers. "We can worry about the house tomorrow."

"We'll need more than a day to fix this place," he seethes to her. "And don't use the spare bathroom. It's clogged." Edyth grimaces, nodding.

"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin?" Balin inquires. "Did they all come?"

Thorin nods. "Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms."

"And what did the Dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?" Dwalin questions.

Thorin sighs, leaning back against his chair. "They will not come." Edyth observes the room, watching shoulders slacken and sighs being breathed. "They say this quest is ours, and ours alone."

"Quest?" Edyth blurts. "Are you going on a quest?" This earns a few eyes on her which she ignores, pushing off the wall to saunter near Gandalf. "How much more is there you are not telling me?"

"All in due time," Gandalf retorts slowly. "And Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light."

Bilbo awkwardly walks away to the outer hall where there are candles ready to be lit, both oil and wax. As he does so, Gandalf protrudes something from inside his cloak and Thorin moves his meal to the side to make way. The Wizard lays on the table a map, which she can barely read.

"Far to the East, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak," Gandalf tells. Bilbo returns with a single candle, leaning between Gandalf and Thorin.

"The Lonely Mountain," he reads.

Edyth's brows shoot up. "Erebor?" she realises. "You are returning to Erebor?"

It is the name of a once-mighty kingdom she had read about in one of the books Gandalf had left for her. It hadn't said much, which wasn't surprising as nearly none of her books detailed anything from the Dwarve's history except from the perspective of Men.

"You recognise the name, lass?" Balin replies to her small outburst. Edyth nods, earning another smile from Balin.

"But it hasn't been occupied in a hundred and fifty years," she demurs. "Well except if you want to count the Dragon."

"Dragon?" Bilbo gulps. "Edyth, how do you know about this?"

Thorin breathes slowly, staring at Edyth. "Our quest is none of your concern."

"I think you made it my concern when you decided to have the meeting inside my very home," she rebuts, leaning her hands against the table. "Why now? News of the outside world might not always reach the Shire but surely the Dragon will not leave its horde behind."

Gloin places a loud fist on the table, capturing her attention before Thorin can respond. "Oin has read the portents, and the portents say: it is time."

"An omen?" she whispers.

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold," Oin adds. "When the birds of old return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end."

"And by beast you mean dragon?" Bilbo drawls.

"Aye," the Dwarf with the dual pointed hat agrees. "Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals."

"Yes, I know what a dragon is," Bilbo snaps.

Ori, one of the younger Dwarves, rises to his feet. "I'm not afraid, I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of Dwarvish iron right up his jacksy!"

While Edyth is very reluctant to support what is going on, she cannot help but commend the bravery of those here tonight. It is no doubt that they volunteered – though she isn't yet entirely sure what the end goal of their quest is.

Dori, Ori's older brother pulls him back down with a scolding. "Sit down!"

Balin clicks his tongue, peering around the room. "The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us, but we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best, nor brightest."

"Hey! Who are you calling dim?"

The Dwarves become rowdy, pushing their chairs backwards. Their words are incomprehensible to her ears besides a few words of insult being thrown around. Only a few remain seated, including Balin and Thorin. The bickering ends as Fili slams his fist against the hardwood table.

"We may be few in number. But we're fighters, all of us! To the last Dwarf!"

The sea of grumbles turns to a wave of agreement and cheers. Kili leans over his brother with a broad smile. "And you forget we have a Wizard in our company, Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time."

All heads, including Edyth's, turn to Gandalf. He is much older than anybody in that room with their ages combined. "Oh, well... No, uh, I…I wouldn't say…"

"How many then?" Dori demands.

"What?"

"Well, how many dragons have you killed?" Dori presses. "Go on, give us a number."

They watch as Gandalf fumbles around with the pip between his lips. Smoke pours out of them as he chokes on the essence of pipeweed, accompanied by a coughing fit that he tries to hide.

"A small band of Dwarves and a Wizard that is more famous for his fireworks than legendary deeds," she sings sarcastically to Bilbo, "are going to attempt to reclaim a mountain from a dragon. I'll be sure to miss their funeral."

The Dwarves begin to rile up again as Gandalf's silent confession, throwing fingers and blame – but to who and why, Edyth will never figure out. It seems they like to create chaos for the sake of it at this stage.

Just as her head begins to hurt, Thorin pushes from his seat. "Shazara!" The word is foreign to her ears yet even she is subjected to is power. The Dwarves quieten themselves, shrinking back into their seats. Edyth stays standing – not having one in the first place – next to Bilbo and Gandalf. All eyes are in her direction, or more so in Thorin's who was less than a meter to her right.

"If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumours have begun to spread. The Dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years." He leans forward, capturing their attention and even Edyth reluctantly feels the pull of his presence. "Eyes look East to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the bast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?"

He holds up a clenched fist, speaking their native tongue once more and Edyth changes her eyes to the ground. It was likely once their home? Was it Thorin's home; had he lived there? Her mind scolds her at the harsh judgement she placed on them. They are fighting for their homeland.

The Dwarves cheer again, Kili's voice is loud as daylight over the rest which makes her lips twitch upwards, moving her eyes from the ground back up to the young Dwarf. Edyth can see the spirit in him.

"You forget the front gate is sealed," Balin speaks. "There is no way into the mountain."

Changing her tone, Edyth peers at Gandalf on her left with a knowing smirk. "I highly doubt that Gandalf would call such a gathering if he knew this quest would be thwarted by a door."

Gandalf tilted his head forward in her direction with a knowing twinkle. "My dear Edyth, you are indeed correct." Edyth smiles slightly, shifting her weight at the public praise. Gandalf moves his hand up, a key seemingly appearing from nowhere. It is much better crafted than any key she has seen before. There is a growing thickness in the room as everybody seems to gape.

"How came you by this?" Thorin gasps lowly.

"It was given to me by your father, Thrain, for safekeeping. It is yours now." Gandalf slowly hands to key over to Thorin, the entire company watching the exchange. Something odd comes to light in her head, and she wonders how it wasn't put together earlier.

"You're a king," she murmurs. Thorin changes his gaze from Gandalf to her. He doesn't say anything but Edyth doesn't need a verbal confirmation to know her thoughts are true. He has the bearing of one, the command, the eyes. "You are the rightful heir to the throne of Erebor?"

Her head snaps towards the young brothers who are sitting together. His nephews. Princes. "If there is a key, there must be a door," Fili speaks up, her own words to murmured for anybody else but Thorin and Gandalf to hear.

Gandalf points to the map, an 'x' marked on the left side of the mountain. "These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls."

"There's another way in," Kili breathes.

"Well," Gandalf exhales, "if we can find it, but Dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map, and I do not have the skill to find it, but there are others in Middle Earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of strength, and no small amount of courage. But if we're careful and clever, I believe that it can be done."

Edyth begins to wonder about Gandalfs intentions. More so about her brother. Thorin had questioned Bilbo, calling him 'the Hobbit' as though it is his title. Not 'a' Hobbit, but the Hobbit. Where is she in this equation?"

"That's why we need a burglar," Ori states.

"A burglar?" Edyth blanches. "You're going against a Dragon, not guards."

"We will need to sneak into the Mountain, my dear," Gandalf settles her.

"Well then you'll need a good one," Bilbo huffs, wringing his thumbs around his suspenders. "An expert, I'd imagine."

Edyth flicks her head between Bilbo and Gandalf, her face dropping each time.

"And are you?" Gloin questions.

Bilbo looks up, still not having caught on. "Am I what?"

Oin, with his hearing trumpet next to his cheers, leans back in a cheer. "He said he's an expert!"

"Me?!" Bilbo realises. "No! No, no, no! I…I'm not a burglar. I've never stolen a thing in my life."

They couldn't really be thinking of sending her brother on this quest? Leaving his front garden was considered an adventure to him! Surely they could find somebody else more willing.

"And I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr Baggins," Balin laments. "He's hardly burglar material."

Dwalin who is leant back in his chair shares his agreement. "Aye, the wild is no place for gentle fold who can neither fight nor fend for themselves."

For a third time that night, the Dwarves become upset, though many stay in their seating this time. Many express their agreement the Bilbo would do more harm than good on the quest and Edyth cannot help but agree. Her brother isn't fit for the wild.

Before the meeting becomes out of hand, Gandalf rises to his full height, standing well taller than anybody else in the room. "Enough!" Darkness crawls through Bag End, even though the candles are well lit. It becomes an unearthly shadow looming over them. "If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is!" The darkness begins to shrink once more, retreating into the Grey Wizard. "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most of they choose, and while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of a Dwarf, the scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage.

"You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Mr Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest. And he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including himself." He turns to Thorin who is clearly contemplating Gandalf's words. "You must trust me on this."

Thorin stares at him for a moment, shifting his eye first to her, then to Bilbo. "Very well. We'll do it your way." Bilbo begins to shake his head, mumbling denials. "Give him the contract."

"Please," Bilbo pleas.

Balin stands, pulling out a piece of paper. "It's just the usual summary of out-of-pocket expense, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth." Balin passes the contract forward, Thorin acting as an intermediate, shoving it in her brother's chest.

"Funeral arrangements?" Bilbo repeats aghast. Edyth's lips hang partially open, eyes trained on her brother as he walks into the hallway, opening the deceivingly large contract. "Ooh."

Her attention is taken forcibly by Thorin's whispering in Gandalf's ear. Though she keeps her eyes trained forward, her pointed ears are listening keenly. "I cannot guarantee his safety," Thorin mutters to Gandalf.

"Understood," Gandalf agrees.

"Nor will I be responsible for his fate."

There is a momentary pause as Thorin leans back, awaiting his answer. Gandalf eventually nods. "Agreed."

"Total cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one-fourteenth of total profit if any," Bilbo reads aloud. "Seems fair. Uh…the present company shall not be held liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof, including, but not limited to…lacerations. Evisceration?" He turns over a page, his brows rising. "Incineration?"

"Oh, aye," the hatted Dwarf smiles. "He'll melt the flesh right off your bones in the blink of an eye."

Bilbo becomes visibly pale but Edyth isn't quite sure where to stop this. A good part of her wants Bilbo to agree to help them since she cannot. But the Hobbit part of her wants him safe and sound in their big Hobbit hole.

"You alright, laddie?" Balin inquires.

"Huh?" Bilbo murmurs. "Yeah, I fe… I feel a bit faint."

Edyth turns to Gandalf. "Maybe we should slow this down," she worries. "He's overwhelmed." To her frustration, Gandalf plainly ignores her.

"Think furnace with wings."

Bilbo hunches over, resting his hands on his knees. "I…I…I need air."

"I'm going to get him a pillow," Edyth announces, rushing out of the room.

"Flash of light, searing pain, then poof!" she can hear from the room still. "You're nothing more than a pile of ash!"

Edyth grabs the pillow which is more ornamental than anything but good enough and jogs back to the room. Just as she rounds the corner, there is a large thud. "Bugger," she hisses, having just missed it. Bilbo lies out cold on the floor. Falling to her knees, she places the pillow under his head.

"Oh, very helpful, Bofur," Gandalf grumbles. Bofur; she can finally put a name to him.

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