Pressing Flowers

Author's Note: So I hope that everyone enjoyed the part one of this chapter. Remember to vote on the poll before tomorrow at 3 PM EST. Thorin is currently winning with 37 votes, Dwalin is right behind him at 36 votes, and Fili right behind him with 35 votes. It's still anyone's game really. Thank you for the favorites, the follows, the reviews, and the votes; I can't wait to write more for you! – CAS

P.S. To the guests who are worried their votes will not count fret not. I'm still counting verbal votes; I was just saying it would be easier for those who have accounts to use the poll. Sorry for the confusion!

Chapter Four: Bilbo Baggins and the Thirteen Dwarrows (Pt. 2)

The last thing that Bilbo had expected when he opened that door was a large pile of Dwarrows to fall through it. Gandalf stood off to the side, his hand positioned as if he had been the one to knock. Another thing that Bilbo had not been expecting was the fact that he was on the bottom of that pile. An extremely heavy pile if he did say so himself. The fact that he was on the bottom of said pile of very male dwarfs just about set him off in a panic. His breath was shallow and came out in a soft form of panting when an unknown set of hands pulled him up.

"'M terribly sorry Master Hobbit!" The kind voice cooed apologetically in his ear. This seeming to work on breaking Bilbo out of his frightened flutter. "Didn' mean ta squash ya! Bofur, at your service." As well as the fact that he felt the twin presence of Fili and Kili as well as they set to dusting Bilbo off while loudly greeting everyone who had entered the smial. Bilbo was quickly spun in a greeting of the new added company as he led everyone into the dining area of his home. He smiled slightly, still panting under his breath as they all exclaimed happily about the food.

He slipped into the kitchen clutching his chest in attempt to avoid the large group; he really didn't know how to react. His life had changed so quickly within a manner of moments, all these people in his normally bare home. He sat in the doorway of the kitchen, far enough out of the chaos, but still close if someone needed anything.

He often jumped up if anyone wanted tea or ale, filling their cups without question, even opening his finest bottle of his own vineyard just for Gandalf, getting his largest yet most elegant glassware for him. He had made a quick companion in Dori, who seemed to be fluttering about the Dwarrows in the same mothering fashion that Bilbo was.

When Dori had first introduced himself Bilbo almost couldn't even stutter out a response, the Dwarf was older by the varying shades of deep smoke grey and silver that made up his hair and beard. His braids were fascinating to Bilbo, braided in swirls and circles at the back of his head. His beard was braided on both sides and connected with a single thick intricate silver clasp. His eyes were a pale green, bright with life warmth. He had cuffs on his ears, and yet walked with an air of knowledge around him, it was clear that he was the caregiver of his small brood. He had greeted Bilbo with a welcoming smile and a confident,

"Dori, at your service!" To which he received a slightly delayed but equally as welcoming,

"B-Bilbo B-Baggins, at yours M-Master Dori." Before they set off to tend to everyone who was eating.

Bilbo often heard offside comments on how Gandalf hadn't even told Bilbo that so many were coming, this fact seemed to impress the Dwarrows (with the large amount of food), and made the Dwarrows annoyed with Gandalf. That fact greatly pleased Bilbo, as he too was quite annoyed with Gandalf.

Bilbo soon quite literally ran into his next Dwarf whom he would be introduced to personally. The Dwarf had a wild look in his deep dark eyes; the color was so wild Bilbo couldn't even place a name on it. He had a dark mane of hair in the back and by the looks of it; it was just as wild as the Dwarf himself was. It was a jet black color with odd patches of sliver stuck out in odd places and disorganized braids in others; his beard was a stark contrast of a smoke white, and a smoke grey. His mustache on the other hand was a jet black, and was braided quite flatteringly with his smoke colored beard to create a checkered pattern. The one thing Bilbo had surprisingly not noticed until that point was the axe head sticking from his forehead.

The Dwarf was closely followed by Bofur, the Dwarf that had apologized for knocking Bilbo over. Though what Bilbo didn't notice was the table quieting down to watch the exchange. At first the wild Dwarf just stared, but eventually he started doing intricate hand gestures while chattering avidly in what Bilbo guessed to be some form of Khuzdûl, but as Bilbo obviously didn't understand Khuzdûl he followed the arm gestures closely. Bilbo smiled at the Dwarf softly, it was odd how this wild dwarf whom could not speak was almost more polite than the others. Just as he was looking to Bofur for translation, Bilbo responded.

"At y-yours, M-master Bifur! T-Thank you, I-I d-do hope you'll f-find Bag End to your liking." Bilbo started, smiling at the excited expression Bifur got as his head snapped to stare at the Hobbit. He stared for a moment before wildly gesturing his hands again, nearly taking Bofur out with one of the wide swings of his arms. "A-ah yes, I'm quite f-fluent, m-my m-mother taught me many t-things before her p-p-passing," He said with a slight grimace at the expression he received at that, "and s-signing w-was one of them." He said quietly.

He didn't hear any more chatter from Bifur, for a few seconds. That is until the Dwarf decided to let what was akin to a battle cry out and proceed to grip him into a warm yet hard embrace. For the second time Bilbo felt all the air in his lunges take the nearest exit. His body tensed, and every muscle from head to toe went tight like a bow string. Many years had it been since Bilbo had embraced anyone other than Hamfast in his weakest moments.

Bilbo could hear the sudden rustling and tight exclamations for Bifur to "Let the little lad go," but he didn't dare move for fear he would either panic, or be tugged even tighter into the arms which were holding him captive. He felt his heart start racing, but he gathered himself enough to carefully, almost skittishly, return the embrace. Gasping slightly when Bifur slapped his back in an encouraging manner and pulled away. Bilbo forced a smile at the Dwarf, but slowly signed out a thank you, but before Bifur could even sign back, the doorbell rang.

"That'll be the door!" rang loudly through the house, causing most of the Dwarrows to bark out in laughter, where as it caused Bilbo, Bifur, and Bofur to nearly jump out of their skin. Bilbo headed towards the door, knowing full well that the two latter mentioned before were followed quite like pups following their mother. He also felt something fury touch his hand, allowing him to know that Firik also decided to follow him to the door, mostly because he likely needed to do his business.

This time, when Bilbo opened the door, a large pile of Dwarrows did not fall atop him. He carefully opened the door this time, not daring to pull it too widely in fear that another group would come falling in, but he knew full well that this would not happen. With this Dwarf it meant that only one was missing, though who or which one Bilbo was unsure, he did not dwell on that, for now he would focus on accommodating the next guest.

When he opened the door, the first thing that caught his glance was the purest of white that colored the Dwarf's hair. It was not wildly braided, nor overly fluffed, but laid perfectly and elegantly on the male's chest. To be perfectly honest, Bilbo almost found the man endearing as he greeted Bifur and Bofur before turning his attention to Bilbo himself.

"Balin, at your service Master Hobbit." The white dwarf said with a small bow. Bilbo returned this with a careful smile before replying the customary

"B-Bilbo B-Baggins, at yours! Good evening Master Dwarf!" He said as he moved out of the way letting the other in, "If I-I m-may ask you to r-r-remove your b-boots please!" He said happily as he could through the nervousness that passed over him.

"Aye that it is laddie, but I think it might rain later." He said entering the smial with a quaint nod of his head as he passed Bilbo. He paused to take his boots off quickly before moving off into the home, simply following the songs and loud noise from the feasting Dwarrows.

The Hobbit shut the door with a quiet sigh, listening as Gandalf finally started counting the Dwarrows listing them by name as he did so. Bilbo felt slightly unsettled to the ominous sigh of "He's late" which was all he had heard from Gandalf as he was pushed away and led into the kitchen.

An hour later found Bilbo with a mouth full of pipe and a large mug of tea, mostly because he feared he would want to overdrink the ale, in his hands thanks to a mixture of Dori, Bifur, and Bofur. He was pleased to be sitting in his kitchen by the large fire that was his oven, it seemed to warm the haunting chill of fear that had begun to seep into his bones.

Bilbo was almost comfortable around the Dwarrows, and he was positive that was the reason he was frightened. He had felt almost comfortable with the Breeders of Tuckborough; they had been extremely close friends of his from the time of his birth, even though he had been born without a pack mark. That was until his 33rd birthday, they had been the first to see his Carrier mark weave its way up his shoulders, and onto his back. They had been the ones to betray him to the others, and the ones who were given most of the bounty that came from the tasting of a Carrier.

Bilbo didn't like feeling that feeling again, the fear that he would become close to these Dwarrows. The fear that he would eventually perhaps come to love them, or think of them as family. The fear that they would ruin him again, that they would rob him from all he held dear. That was what he feared most.

It was odd how the words "Gandalf didn't tell him" seemed to change how they interacted with him. It was like they felt the need to care for him, in exchange for his delectable food, his warm hearth, and his fine ale. Bilbo didn't even try to push anyone away, he knew mostly that if he tried, Bifur, whom hadn't left his side for most of the evening, would force whatever he had turned away upon him. He had learned that fact when he had tried to deny a pipe, when he turned his attention back to Bifur he had found the piece shoved between his lips, and being lit up.

Bilbo was rather joyous at the moment listening to the laughter and songs of the loud rag tag group. Balin even pulled him into telling the story of how Hobbits came into existence in exchange for how Dwarrows came to be. Bilbo had even sung a classic stuttered out piece for the Dwarrows to hear, not exactly telling them about the magic of Hobbitish music. He had roughly translated the song into common tongue, knowing that if anyone heard him singing in the tongue of the Hobbits he would be granted no mercy from any hobbit in Middle-Earth.

That was until Ori had asked where to put his plate, and the Dwarrows had started playing music with his knifes. He should have never made the comment about the "blunting the knives" and that set the Dwarrows off into song. Bilbo watched in horror as one of the last objects of his mother was tossed down the hall. People who he had tentatively begun to trust again betrayed it. He felt as if he had swallowed his own tongue, were they mocking him? Was this how they repaid his kindness? He was desperately attempting to reach the kitchen through blinding tears knowing fully well that Gandalf might be able to stop them.

He reached the kitchen just as the song came to a close only to find that his china wasn't damaged, no not only was it in perfect condition, it was practically shining it was so clean. The Dwarrows seemed to find his slack jawed expression far more entertaining than anything, and soon their obnoxious laughter and hard pats on the back had Bilbo giggling along as well. His face was flushed with embarrassment but unlike other smiles of the evening, there was true unguarded joy in those hazel eyes.

He was about to squabble out a playful retort, until the loud sound of fist and wood rang through his house, everyone went silent. Everyone exchanged hesitant glances, Fili and Kili looked somewhat excited, but there was a sense of nerves inter mingled with their joy. Bilbo suddenly didn't want the thirteenth member here, he was more than happy with twelve, and they were more than enough. If the thirteenth member was fierce enough to silence the entire company with a single knock Bilbo didn't want him here.

"He is here," Gandalf concluded with an impassive face, only his eyes betrayed his true worries, and it seemed that Bilbo was the only one to it.

Bilbo watched as Gandalf stood slowly, making his way toward the door, allowing Bilbo a moment to slowly slink towards the entrance hall in time to hear the man's greeting. At first he didn't even hear words, simply the deep purr of a voice that seemed to fill his smial. He again felt the brush of fur under his palm as Firik came under it. Bilbo exchanged a look with the beast as he stepped into the hall.

"I lost my way, twice. I would not have found it a'tall had it not been for that mark on the door." He said, not looking the least embarrassed at the fact that he had gotten lost in The Shire which was essentially one slightly curving road that ran between the smials that were under said hill. Bilbo felt himself twitch involuntarily at the mention of a mark.

Leave it to Bilbo to stew over that thought for a moment, and Bilbo's nervous habit of acting before thinking things through. Leaving Firik to stand at Bifur's side patiently, or at least until he sensed his master was in need of him.

"M-mark?" Bilbo heard himself blurt suddenly, he felt the new Dwarf's eyes turn to him slowly, but Bilbo's attention was on Gandalf. "Y-You should have told m-me you o-old coot!" He said shaking a finger in a mothering fashion at the man, "I-I almost t-told Hamfast to p-paint the d-door! W-what a mess that w-would have caused!" Gandalf had the decency to look scolded, though didn't have a chance to comment as one of the other Dwarrows did.

"It's just paint Master Baggins, Gandalf's magic would have shown through!" Kili said almost in a way to council.

"A-ah, normal p-paint would not h-have bothered it! B-but Hobbit paint h-has Hobbitish magic! It makes it so n-no m-mark of any kind can be s-seen. G-Gandalf knows this f-first hand. Don't you, Wizard?" Bilbo questioned, he had almost completely forgotten the new arrival, and likely would have kept ranting at the Wizard or until a throat was cleared behind him.

Bilbo tensed, much like he had earlier when Bifur embraced him. His muscles seemed to turn to stone, and his expression automatically turned completely emotionless. His eyes even seemed to show his need for escape, but he did not run, only turned slowly around to face the new Dwarf, the one whom he guessed was the leader of the company. His head tilted to look up at the much taller Dwarf when their eyes met Bilbo instantly felt like he was about to become the prey of a much larger animal. And the feral spark in the steel eyes of Thorin Oakenshield seemed to prove him right.

The Dwarf was tall, to say he was honestly the tallest Dwarf in Bilbo's home at the moment wasn't that off of a statement, the only Dwarf who came near to his height was Dwalin, and even when he wasn't slouching that was a long shot. He was built like a bear if you asked Bilbo, the man looked powerful, and honestly Bilbo was frightened of him even just by looking of him. His locks were thick and so very dark with only a small sprinkling of silver towards the front, he had two braids that Bilbo could see, but Bilbo wouldn't have been surprised if he had more hidden. He was a regal looking dwarf; his eyes shining like freshly pressed steel, and looking just as sharp. It was clear that even without a crown, this creature could have been king.

"Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce you to the leader of our company. Thorin Oakenshield." His voice held warmth that was supposed to be reassuring, Bilbo only found it adding to his nerves.

"So, this is the Hobbit." The man Bilbo now knew as Thorin stepped forward his arms crossing in front of his chest as he moved. Thorin's lip twitched up in a mocking manner. Bilbo could hear the slight rumble of Firik in the background, obviously not liking the attitude that the leader had towards his master. "Tell me mister Baggins, have you done much fighting?" Thorin asked as he seemed to stalk forward circling Bilbo like a predator.

"P-p-pardon me?" Bilbo asked, clearly thinking he must have heard wrong, this Dwarf could not possibly be serious. Bilbo Baggins was not good at making first impressions, but this Dwarf had to be worse.

"Axe or sword, which do you prefer?" The man snarled as he snapped to face Bilbo, causing Bilbo to take a step back and Firik to take a snarling step forward.

"N-neither," Bilbo started only to be interrupted by Thorin.

"I thought as much," He said not allowing Bilbo to go on in his sentence. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar," He said as he turned to walk away. The chuckles seemed halfhearted, but they still came. Mocking him once again, always they mocked him. The man's eyes got a bit wide when he was faced with a large enraged wolf but he continued to walk. The chuckling group still following behind. Only Bifur and Bofur seemed reluctant to leave the burglar to his own thoughts.

"That went well," came Gandalf's unwanted comment as he too soon disappeared into the dining hall.

If that was "going well" Bilbo didn't even want to comprehend what "unwell" could have been like.

"H-h-horrible manners to someone w-w-who slaved all day f-for his company and h-himself," Bilbo said, a bit louder than he originally anticipated, not seeing the way the King flinched lightly at the truth in the Hobbit's statement, "Or f-for s-s-someone who thought far enough ahead to save him f-f-food." The last part was said loudly in Hobbitish for Firik to hear, who seemed to snort at his implication.

"I'm sorry Uncle; I think we ate all the food." Kili was just in the middle of saying as Bilbo appeared silently from the kitchen. His mouth set in a thin, firm, and clearly displeased line. Bilbo didn't even spare a second glance for the man as he set down a platter full of food, even when he was met with surprised gasps at the fact that he had thought of the extra man. Gandalf looked with an almost arrogant expression at the king, before thanking Bilbo in his lack of words.

"Bilbo spent all day readying his home for your company, even though he was unaware of the number that he was to have." Gandalf said, as Bilbo moved awkwardly back into the kitchen to grab his mug.

Bilbo briefly entertained the idea of sitting in seat he had been occupying before, but decided against it and simply sat between Bifur and Dori. He was extremely pleased when Bofur leaned back and patted his shoulder from around Bifur with a wide smile, Bilbo thought it was an odd move, but returned the expression none the less.

He could tell by the heavy silence that it was going to be a very long night.

TBC

Author's note: Okay, so I'm adding this down here to get rid of some confusion on what a Breeder is, and what the Calling Ceremony is. Everything will be explained in more detail in the story in the future, but I'll give you this for now. The A/B/O dynamic is a bit different, Alpha, Breeder, and Omega. . A breeder is essentially a rouge Alpha who refuses to take a mate, and loves being aggressive and causing chaos. Due to a war between the Alpha and Breeder dynamic Carriers don't exist anymore (aside from Bilbo) during these wars the Alphas and Breeders created a ceremony to appease each other with called Calling ceremonies.

A Calling ceremony is simple, in the old days when an unmated Carrier/Omega reached the age of 50 he was given up as a form of sacrifice to a group of Alphas/Breeders (depending on which created laws on the borough he/she was from: Example, if a carrier was born in an Alpha ruled zone he was given to the Breeders) as a way to repopulate after said war. So few actually survived these ceremonies because it was essentially gang rape constantly until they became pregnant and died during birth or they died during the ceremony. As the population isn't a problem anymore, it is now used as either a form of punishment for omegas, a way to determine ownership, or a form of execution.

This isn't a perfect explanation, I'm aware there are faults to it, but it's essentially a rough draft of what the dynamics and the ceremony are. I'll explain Breeders more in-depth within the next few chapters, but hopefully this helped.