Hours after everyone was fed, dressed in new clothes, Piper had let Riordan out to play in the yard, and he had dragged Fili, Kíli, and Ori out to play kickball, Piper went on to climb up to the little attic and bring down spare bedding, realizing that she might have house guests for some time. She pulled the ladder down from the ceiling door when she heard someone coming up. Seeing Bofur, in his brown flannel shirt and khaki pants, she grinned. He had kept his hat and scarf, and his gloves and boots, but the rest he had put aside for now. "Hey, Bofur. Whatcha need?"

"Jus' came t' give ye a hand if ye need it." He replied, walking over to her. "Ah, that's a good little hidey hole!"

"Mm? Oh it's just attic storage. Spare stuff and whatnot."

Bofur nodded, eyeing the construction of the folding ladder. Interesting. "I see. Did yer husband build it?"

Piper chuckled and shook her head. "My grandparents built this place. Then my parents had it, and we lost them two years ago, so I inherited it."

"Oh! My condolences then." Bofur took his hat off, holding it to his chest as he gave her a slight bow. "It's a very nice place."

She smiled, amused. "Thank you. I loved coming to visit here when my grandparents still lived here," she explained as she climbed up the ladder. "Never expected to own it though. Guess it was logical, I mean, we paid off the land fairly early and my parents finished the few payments on the house my grandparents couldn't make. So it was all paid up by the time mom and dad moved in." Her voice faded some as she reached the top of the stairs, but she returned to peer down at him. "I'm gonna toss down blankets, ok?"

"O' course!" He agreed, holding his arms out. "So your husband didn't build a home for you?"

"Haven't got a husband. Never married." Came her muffled voice before a pile of dusty blankets dropped down on him.

"Wha—!?" Bofur started to question her but the dust got sucked into his lungs and he started coughing. When he looked up again, he spotted her head hanging out of the doorway, with a humored grin, and she giggled when she saw him looking at her. "Aye, just laugh at ol' Bofur! Don't mind me down here dyin'!"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic!" She rolled her eyes, but was still chuckling. "Just dust!" Another pile of blankets and some pillows came tumbling down after that. One caught the dwarf in the face and he yelped and had thrown it back at her before he realized what he had done. Luckily she took it in good humor and began aiming pillows at him. It wasn't long until most of the pillows were in a disarrayed pile around Bofur and they were both laughing. Piper was bringing the last few down the ladder when she stepped on the corner of a blanket draped over the rung. It slid and she went sprawling with a loud yelp, confused when she felt herself caught by strong arms. "Oof!"

Bofur, pinned under the woman, her legs across his chest, his arm behind her back in a desperate attempt to prevent her from striking her head on anything, winced when her shoe that had fallen off in the tumble, was wedged in his back. He was supporting her mid back, her rather nice rump on his shoulder, and he just smiled up at her. "Ye a'righ'?"

"Uh… yeah, yeah I am." Surprised at their situation, she looked around, glad he appeared uninjured, if a touch squished.

Up the stairs thundered a number of dwarves, and they rounded upon the two heaped on the floor. Piper was looking up at the ladder, while trying to detangle herself from Bofur.

"I've never fallen on that… crazy." Shaking her head, she looked back to see the crowd of dwarves, and gladly accepted Bifur's offered hand as she stood. "Thanks, and thank you, Bofur. I bet you save me from getting hurt."

The miner just grinned from his spot on the floor and reached behind him, handing her back the shoe. Everyone else but Bofur and Bifur gathered up blankets and pillows and carted them down to the den.

"For a dwarf who was nearly flattened, you look quite pleased." Bifur smirked at his cousin, speaking of course in Khuzdul.

"You're awfully mouthy!" Bofur shot back with a wide grin. Still, as much as he didn't want to draw attention to the fact his cousin was right, he couldn't even try to deny it.

Bifur reaches down and clasped his arm with Bofur, pulling the other dwarf to his feet. As Bofur swept his dislodged hat from the floor, dusting it off as though that might actually accomplish something, the older dwarf shook his head. "She's married, cousin. Else how did she have that boy?"

There was a twinkle of light in Bofur's eyes. "She's not. Never has been." He shrugged, unable to help the grin that was starting to spread on his face. "Even Gandalf said things were different here. Maybe it's not unusual?" He sad, seeing the skepticism in Bifur's face. "Ye know I'd be de last t' judge." When he had been near Fíli's age, he had a wild streak in him that had involved certain ladies of a particular employment. No dwarven female would ever work thusly, so they had been females of the race of men.

The axe-headed dwarf heaved a breath and shook his head. "And here I thought you just had a particular taste in females!"

Scoffing, Bofur reached out to playfully cuff his cousin on the shoulder. "Hey now!" They both chuckled and made their way downstairs. Though at the top of the stairs they had heard a commotion, not one of any sort of panic or ill-naturdeness, and by the time they had come down and around the corner of the short hall leading to the den, they came into sight of an epic battle. Of pillows.

Riordan seemed to be the instigator in all of it. The young lad shrieked and giggled, laughing at he swung his pillow at unexpected nimble dwarves. Oin and Balin has wisely stepped away into the dining room adjacent this open room. Dwalin was standing guard in front of a glass case with fancy knick knacks, while Dori had been stationed in front of a large black rectangular thing. Kíli and Fíli were running about, both avoiding pillows either swung or thrown at them by the boy. Ori and Nori were whacking each other and occasionally Gloin. What surprised the two coming into this scene was Thorin was crouched, pillows in hand, jousting with Riordan as he came by.

As stoic and majestic as the king was, he has helped raise his nephews, and did greatly enjoy children's antics and playfulness. Even if he didn't get to indulge often now that the boys were grown.

"Where's Bombur?" Bofur asked after a moment of watching the group playing.

"Went to the washroom." Dwalin said, his eyes tracking the small child, even he was grinning. With so few dwarrowdams, a child was precious. Even in these strange circumstances, it did the hearts of the company good to see the boy, so full of innocent laughter and lightheartedness. Though they didn't know it yet, this was turning out to be just the break they needed, better even than when they all nearly destroyed Bag End.

Wincing a little, Bofur turned and started towards the hall. "Which is…?"

"Two doors to the right, yeah down that hall." Piper grinned at him, pointing him in the direction of the bathroom. She was promptly distracted by the backswing of Nori's pillow as he tried to get his brother, and had hit her in the face behind him. This started a scuffle, that the woman gladly joined in. The dwarves, while accepting, were mindful of the woman and child.

With a grin at them, Bofur walked away to check on his brother. Whom he found just stepping out of the bathroom, with a disturbed expression. "What happened?"

"It's pourin' water everywhere!" Bombur hissed in quiet panic. He pushed the door open to show the water running out of the toilet bowl. "What do we do?!"

Bofur ran in, ignoring the splashing of his heavy boots. He gave the strange toilet a quick look over, not recognizing how exactly the device worked. "Mahal's beard…" Turning to his brother with a helpless look, he shrugged, a gesture which Bombur repeated.

Soon Dwalin peered around the corner, rolling his eyes. "You two imbeciles are messin' up the lass's house!" He growled at them, shaking his head. Of course they were already making trouble. "Fix it!"

"We can't!"

Gradually one after another, a dwarf disappeared from the romping about, until there were only a few left, and Piper, realizing something was going wrong, looked about. Where had they all gone? Then she followed the sounds of poorly hushed whispers, and found them crowded around the bathroom, and backed up toilet. One had the lid to the tank in his hand, and she had to muffle a laugh at the panicked expressions, and the pile of towels they were using to sop up the seemingly endless mess.

"Okay, okay! Boys! BOYS!" She called over the anything but quiet whispering. Going to the sink, she pulled the plunger from the cabinet, "Let me at it." And in a few minutes she had taught most of the company of Thorin, how to plunge a toilet. Shooting the dwarves off to the den, she got the rest of the mess cleaned up, and bleached.

"Quite sorry about all of this, Mrs. Morgan," came a quiet voice from the doorway. Bilbo smiled politely when she turned to him, just as she was putting things away. "They did rather the same to my toilet, with less of a… puddle." He grimaced. "I hate to think what it may look like now."

Piper chuckled, walking over to him. He was just the size of her boy, so finding clothes for him had simply meant giving him Riordan's nice outfit. "I bet you'll get it sorted just fine. You seem quite ingenious, and from what I hear of hobbits, there's not much that can stop a hobbit from making a fine home."

Under her praise, Bilbo stood to his full height, looking quite self satisfied. "Bag End is very much a fine home, if I do say so myself. I doubt it would be possible, but for whatever it means, I would very much like to show it to you. You've opened your home to us, Mrs. Morgan, it would only be fair." He hesitated a moment before grinning, a touch of playful humor glinting in his merry eyes. "Though, perhaps after I've repaired my plumbing first."

The woman laughed and gently clapped him on the shoulder. "I appreciate that, I really do, Mr. Baggins."

"Bilbo, please." He insisted.

She grinned at him, "Only if you call me Piper. And it would be miss, anyway. I never married." Seeing his look of surprise she chuckled, "Different social structure. A woman doesn't have to marry, not even to enjoy a man's company." She waited, amused by his further shock. "I'm not some wild party girl, but I did… get a little wasted and had a very good time. Rio's a bit of a souvenir from that. It was tough at first, but I love my little boy, wouldn't change history if I could." There was a warm sort of smile on her face.

The hobbit fought to remind himself that this was a different time and a different world, but he saw the look of love on her face, and he smiled. "I can see how much you love him. I may be grown now, but seeing you two makes me miss my own mother."

Piper smiled at him, nodding slightly, unable to deny she missed hers as well. "My parents died in an accident. I hate that Rio doesn't have a grandma to spoil him, I hate not having her around to ask her advice. But… I hope she'd be proud of us."

"I also lost my parents in an accident," Bilbo looked up at her, the two sharing a moment of sympathy.

"Hey, c'mon, why don't you come help me fix up a batch of tea, and you can tell me about your parents." Piper motioned for him to follow her to the kitchen, a nice large kitchen with a bay window and long curved counter, double ovens, central island stovetop, deep sinks, and a number of nice contraptions.

A broad smile spreading on his face, Bilbo nodded, "I'd be happy to! And you must tell me about your family in return."

And so the two went off to fix up tea, and a good sized plate of Milano cookies, for the company. By the time they had tea and snacks, the others had set up a living space for themselves and the absent hobbit, Bofur once more looking out for his little friend. All of her guests were happy to have a cup of tea, and they calmed from their bustling and joking about to sit and drink, even if a number of them would have rather had ale or the like, they weren't going to turn down a freely offered cup. They took this time to chat amicably with their hostess, many telling her something about themselves, and answering her questions.

"This is quite nice!" Dori chirped up after a few sips. "What is it?"

"Orange spiced chai." Piper replied as she sipped her own tea, now and then watching Riordan, who was laying across one of the dwarves' claimed spots, on the supplied bedding, sound asleep. He had crashed after the pillow fight, when the plumbing disaster had struck.

Balin, quite enjoying this milk tea, looked up, licking his lip still, and spoke softly so as not to wake the boy. "Miss Piper, while we appreciate that you've taken us in, more than you could know, lass, dwarves are very hard to house and feed. You've already had to buy what I imagine was a great deal more food than you two would eat, and we seem to have made a mess of your toilet. Which I'm relieved could be repaired so easily." He saw her starting to object, and held his hand up to hold her off for a moment. "There must be some way we can either make ourselves useful, or somehow take the financial burden off of you."

Understanding how he, and likely the others, felt, Piper contemplated his words for a few moments. "Well… I had been thinking of going back into my grandpa's trade. He was a logger, sold firewood mostly, to people who couldn't go out to get their own. We've still got his equipment, and this place could use some tree thinning. A few good loads should give us some funds to keep you all fed."

"Logging? Like some kind of—" Dwalin was cut off by his king.

"That would be perfect. We've felled trees before, at least some of us. It's a good trade, and we can work fast." Thorin said with a sense of finality. They had to do something to earn their keep. And it was highly unlikely they could use their skills that they were more accustomed to. He had neither seen nor heard mention of a forge. "We are smiths, miners, toy makers, and the like, but we can easily adapt to becoming woodsmen."

"Typically we use the term woodcutter, but that works." Piper assured him. "I dunno if you'll be here long enough, but in two weeks we're having a market sale, handcrafted items and such. I'm bringing my decorated candles to sell."

"Yer a candle maker then?" Bofur asked, curiously, his eyes lighting up to hear she too worked handcrafts.

"As a hobby, I enjoy it." Piper got up and walked around to a bookshelf, pulling down a colorful intricately carved and shaped candle. "See? I make these sort of things. People like to buy them for parties and special occasions, since we have electric lights."

"The magic lights you mean?" Ori piped up, pointing up to the ceiling light. It wasn't any sort of fancy chandelier, but a simple round glass covered light.

"Magic… well I suppose it might look like magic, but they're far from. It's electricity, uhm… kind of like harnessed lightning? Well… it's created by machines mostly, but yeah." Piper pursed her lips, the way they were learning she did when she wasn't certain how to explain something.

"There is a lot of your world that is strange to us." Balin smiled kindly. "We understand, it's difficult to explain things one might take for granted."

"Exactly!" Piper cried with a sense of relief, a bright smile dawning on her face as she felt pleased he understood her horrible attempts at trying to help them understand. "A lot of it is things I've never thought I'd have to explain, I don't even understand how it works myself. The more developed we, as a society become, the more complex machinery and technology becomes. I've kept up with some of it, mostly what applies to my work, but I can't tell you how everything works." She half shrugged. "Happy to explain what I can," she offered, tacking quickly on, "Within reason and not constantly," as she looked over, seeing Ori had his mouth open already, and he snapped it shut sheepishly. "But for now, let's take it slow and see if we can make this all work for us, okay? I bet you guys are all turned around and messed up, this can't be easy for you!"

Bofur stood straighter, just slightly, feeling a surge of what he could only imagine was pride, perhaps a touch of happiness, to hear her so concerned about them like that. "Aye, 'tis no' an easy nor comfortable journey for us, but we're lucky t' have ye, lass."

"Mmm say that when you see me tomorrow before I have my coffee." She teased him. Her mind flitted about to how she would feed them the next day and what to do after that, so thankful she worked at home.

Thorin seemed to recede into his own thoughts, sitting on the sofa, watching everyone around him quietly. How long would they be stranded there? He was itching to continue his quest, his impatience allayed only by the remembering of the wizards words. They would return mere seconds after they had left. Still, to be interrupted so soon after beginning the journey! They had hardly left Bree, but four days ago. He couldn't help but feel this did not bode well for the rest of the journey. After a moment he felt eyes on him, and looked up to find their hostess looking at him while the others had broken off into quiet conversations of their own. He was startled to see that she had a sort of encouraging expression, as if by some strange magic she could understand his thoughts. Then she made a subtle motion with her head for him to follow and she rose, excusing herself, and slipped away to the kitchen.

Waiting for the king, Piper pulled the step stool over and climbed up to reach her liquor cabinet. Heading his heavy steps and he walked in, she pointed over her shoulder, "Grab a couple glasses, huh?" Then she pulled down a bottle of old scotch she used to drink with her grandfather. It was still a favorite of hers, though she didn't drink it very often anymore. "My grandfather and I used to drink this together, whenever I needed to get something off my chest." Hopping down lightly, she went to fill the glasses. "You look like you need to say something."

Thorin watched her for a moment, contemplating her offer. He picked up his glass when she did, and brought it to his face, first smelling the contents. His brows rose, and he looked down at the dark amber liquid. Bringing it to his lips he sipped it first, appreciating the slow burn and the spicy flavor, though the sweet after taste was a pleasant surprise to him. "You claim that our world is a story in yours. Tell me of it."

"I can't." Piper replied in an adamant tone. "I wish I could, but I can't."

Raising a brow, Thorin lowered the glass, his eyes darkening in a faint scowl. "Can't, or won't?"

The woman sighed, cradling her half-filled glass in her hands. "Both? I can't let myself tell you something that could possibly change the outcome, I won't hurt your world. We have a theory in our world, called the Butterfly Effect. I don't remember the exact details about it, but it's something how the wings of a butterfly on one side of the world can cause a hurricane on the other."

"Mmm… the echoing anvil. It's not unique to your world." Thorin nodded. He hated it, but he understood what she meant. "You fear telling us anything would become disastrous."

Piper nodded, "I will tell you this much, the tales on your world do not stop with your time. There are other great tales, epic stories, or rather events for you. That will matter greatly to many, human, elf, and dwarf alike. I can't tell you anything that would change your decisions now, because it could change even the littlest of details, which might have bigger repercussions in the future." Her eyes met his imploringly, and she watched his expression as he thought it over, gradually softening.

Thorin sighed, taking a slow drink once more. "Very well. I will not push you on the matter further." He relented, for now recognizing that she had a point. It didn't, however, mean he wouldn't try to find out information in other ways. He would speak with some of the others and work with them to discern as much as they could before they left.

"Besides," Piper added, "It's all written up as a story, who knows what details were changed to make it a better one." She gave one of her half shrugs, and glanced towards the doorway. "I think I can tell you one thing, though, if you swear you won't repeat it."

"On my grandfather's throne, I swear I shall not." Thorin answered immediately, and he meant it.

"Gloin's boy, Gimli? He will be a part of a great adventure, and do many wondrous things." She told him in a soft voice, to be sure it didn't carry to the other room.

Thorin's brows rose again, and he glanced to the doorway before chuckling. "That dwarf is so proud of his lad. I'm sure he'll be insufferable if that comes to pass." He looked back at her, "I caution you not to mention his family unless you have an hour or more to spare." The two shared a laugh, and finished their drinks to lighter talk of logging and what equipment she had to do it with, until Riordan had woken, and had convinced some of the others to go play outside, teaching them the finer points of kickball.

Meanwhile, Piper and Bombur, who was happy to volunteer his aid, worked on making dinner. She had bought, not long ago, very large roast, that she intended to cut up into smaller portions that evening, and store away in her freezer. But it seemed a perfect meal for the dwarves now. Plus she had a large box of potatoes in her pantry and they soon had the roast, cut in half, baking in the twin ovens. Bombur was delighted by them, and looked longingly at the devices. If only he had something like that to use! The potatoes were set to boil, and Bilbo had joined them, and he and Bombur debated seasonings, looking over the spice rack that Piper had.

When she stepped out to check on everyone, she found Oin had curled up on her couch for a nap, and Balin was perusing her bookshelf, holding one of her father's old books about car repair. A certain set of books weren't there, so she didn't worry about him stumbling across anything he shouldn't. Then she went to the window to watch the antics in her yard. Thorin and Dwalin had gone off to look at the trees on her property, to best discern which would sell well, she had indicated that there was a good sized stand of tamaracks near the back. The rest of the dwarves were happily engaged in what was becoming quite the unusual game of kickball. Shaking her head, she was amazed at the very strange turn her life had taken.

Then she turned her head when she heard muttering from the kitchen, in that language she didn't know. Coming back, she found Bifur had joined them, but he was hiding something in his big hands, and was visibly upset. "What's wrong?" She hurried over, hoping to help.

Bombur sighed, "Ah, lass. Seems me cousin sort of got carried away tryin' t' figure out how yer lad's toy worked and… he can't seem t' fix it."

Bifur turned to her, actual tears in his eyes, holding the little broken toy fire engine. He said something in a softer tone, glancing to Bombur to translate.

"He says he's very sorry, an' would like t' make it up t' ye somehow." Bombur informed her, his accent not quite as thick as his brother's but definitely there.

Piper saw the little bits of broken plastic, and quickly guessed the dwarf had never seen the likes of it, only to find it more brittle than he realized. She smiled, scooping it all up and dropping it in the trash can. "Don't worry about it, accidents are bound to happen, and it was just a little toy Rio's mostly grown tired of anyway." Looking back at the language-bound dwarf, she saw there was still distress in his eyes, so she stepped up to him and took one of his large calloused hands in hers. "Tell you what, Bofur mentioned earlier you were a toy maker, so I'm guessing that's what had you curious about this toy." He rapid nod had her lips quirking into a smile. "Well then, why don't you make him something unique to replace it? Then he'll always have something to remember his new dwarven friends by."

Bifur's face lit up with her words, and he spoke, excited and animated, before he swept her into a nearly crushing hug, and dashed away to get his tools.

Piper ran to the doorway after him, calling out, "There's a big oak behind the house, if you want to use that!" She turned back to find the strangest look on Bombur's face. He seemed to happy, but his face was scrunched up with tears in his eyes. "Bombur?"

"Oh, lass, ye… he jus'... tha' was very kind of ye." With a sniffle, he turned back to the quiet hobbit and the boiling pot of potatoes. As he stirred them, he was smiling, seeing Bifur from the kitchen window, already running out to the oak tree and inspecting it. Yes, a kind lass indeed. As strange as their stay here was, he wasn't too displeased by it. "Ah, lass, have we cream?"

"Hmm… just condensed milk in a can." Piper replied, before quickly realizing she had more explaining to do. If someone calls me Lucy, I'm gonna scream.

While she was doing that, she missed a little pack of dwarves sneaking curiously into her garden shed…