"I feel I owe you an apology," Gandalf admitted as they stood back and watched the dwarves clear the table for their business.
"Yes, I rather believe that you do," replied Bilbo firmly, watching with a little amusement as Frodo proceeded to continue thoroughly worming his way into the hearts of thirteen rather rough-looking dwarves. He might have been more concerned if it wasn't for the fact that he had met Dwalin first, and the large dwarf had already made a point of stepping in before Bilbo had to when Fili and Kili had verged on being a little too exuberant. They had started some kind of plate juggling game now, but since Bilbo always kept the nicer china packed away (it had only taken one accidentally broken heirloom mug before he had learned the very important lesson that small children and breakables, especially precious breakables, did not mix well) he wasn't overly bothered.
Frodo was watching the juggling with wide, impressed eyes.
"How you do that?" he demanded softly, eyes full of wonder.
(Bilbo, noting that the juggling was now also including knives and forks, privately wondered that too. It was incredible that the dwarves could do that without hurting themselves, but their obvious well-practised ease and their careful positioning to keep Frodo from being in the line of fire did a lot to reassure him.)
The one with the odd black hat with earflaps (Bofur) smiled at the wide-eyed little hobbit.
"We were on the road for a long time, before we got to the Blue Mountains," he explained, "and juggling like this was one of the ways to entertain, keep hand-eye-coordination in shape, uh, that's throwing skills," he clarified when Frodo wrinkled his brow in confusion, "and to earn a few coins when villagers were properly impressed with our performance," he said, casually catching and throwing back a number of plates as he talked. He then reached into his jacket and pulled out a little wooden carving. "Course, that's not the only way I earn my keep. You like this one laddie?"
'This one' turned out to be a wooden figurine of a dwarf riding something. When Frodo gasped in delight and ran over to show it to his uncle, and Bilbo confirmed that the animal was a mountain goat.
"Why, that's lovely!" he said, smiling at Bofur. If the dwarf was trying to butter him up after the whole 'not exactly invited guests' debacle, it was working. "Did you thank the nice gentledwarf?"
Frodo scampered over to do just that. Bilbo was amused at the shade of pink the gruff-looking dwarf proceeded to go at the enthusiastic gratitude he was receiving.
"So you do understand why I turned you down flat?" Bilbo said, returning to his conversation with Gandalf. It was best to confirm that the wizard knew where he stood. He noted that the last dwarf to have joined them, (Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo remembered) was avidly listening to them. Bilbo was not quite able to interpret his expression, but was glad that this dwarf (whom the others seemed to defer to) seemed to be paying attention to their conversation, because it increased the likelihood that someone was listening to what he was saying.
"Yes, well, now that I have been… updated as to your circumstances, I can see why you were… less than receptive to my proposal," Gandalf responded cagily.
Bilbo shot him a sharp look.
"I'm not going Gandalf, and that's final," he asserted bluntly.
Gandalf however was looking distinctly not resigned to this state of affairs.
Well then.
Round one had gone to Gandalf.
Round two had gone to Bilbo, with a late assist from Frodo.
Time for Round three, and this time, Bilbo was ready.
"You should know that once a Baggins has made up his mind, he sticks to it, come dragon fire or high water," Bilbo stated, not rhetorically, but because Gandalf should know. Tales of Gandalf's mischief with the hobbits of the Shire were generations old, (there was a reason Bilbo had thought the wizard long gone,) and Bilbo knew for a fact that Gandalf had met a number of his ancestors over the decades. (Old Grandpa Baggins had a pretty funny story that involved himself, the wizard, a picnic, the then prospective Grandma Baggins, three pigs, and some of the mushrooms that grew out the back of the Bolger smial. He told it every Yuletide without fail.)
Gandalf winced. "Well yes, but that was rather why I was hoping that I would be able to convince you to come on the quest. It would be invaluable to have someone with the Baggins backbone and the Tookish adaptability along, even before we get to the burglary," he explained.
Bilbo snorted. "And you knew I had those qualities how? From meeting my mother, and me as a tiny faunt not much bigger than Frodo? For all you knew, in the intervening years I might have inherited the Baggins fussy dedication to propriety and the Tookish hot-headedness."
"What's all this talk of Baggins and Tookish?" asked Balin, interrupting them.
Bilbo decided to ignore the rudeness of someone just interjecting into their conversation, and shrugged. "Families in the Shire. It's said that Bagginses are set in their ways and thus eminently reliable, if not a little dull, and Tooks are gregarious, wild and always up for a bit of fun. It was a bit of a scandal when my parents married, just because of that. Though really, I'm cousins in one way or another with pretty much every prominent family, since hobbits usually tend towards lots of children. My mother after all was one of twelve Took siblings."
(Most of the dwarves in earshot didn't bat an eyelash at this number, because they thought the hobbit was exaggerating. Gandalf could have told them otherwise, but they didn't ask him, and he was rather preoccupied trying to think of how he could salvage his plan after such a gross miscalculation.)
"And what about you?" Balin questioned. "Do you have any siblings?"
Bilbo's eyes darkened slightly. "None living." He didn't elaborate.
Balin, not being a fool, picked up on the subtext and decided to not press further.
It was then that another knock came on the door.
The dwarves fell suddenly silent.
"Did you tell anyone you were coming here?" Gandalf hissed to Thorin.
Thorin raised a regal eyebrow, and shook his head, pausing in shovelling what was left of the stew into his mouth. (The others had neglected to set any food aside for him, but fortunately the hobbit had somehow by some hobbit magic over-catered, so he was not about to go hungry.)
Bilbo, wondering what all the drama was about, peaked through the front window, smiled, and then opened the door.
"Crocus and Flam! How lovely to see you both!" Bilbo stepped back from the door, and the company inside could see two hobbits, who appeared to be husband and wife, judging by the way they unconsciously leaned into each other's space. The two of them looked to be around the same age as Bilbo. Bilbo turned to the company and said, "This is my cousin Flambard Took, and his lovely wife Crocus, previously Hornblower." The dwarves could see that Flambard was of very similar colouring to Bilbo. The more observant dwarves also noticed that though the couple were both smiling, both of them were tense. "Would the two of you like a cup of tea?" Bilbo invited them.
"Thank you Bilbo, it's kind of you to let us in so late," replied Flambard, stepping inside and wiping his feet on the mat. "Especially when I can see you already have a number of guests," he said, with a very slight emphasis on the word 'guests' that implied he was rather sceptical that that was what they were.
Few of those inside missed the implication. Those that had been paying attention when Bilbo had explained just how unexpected they were, felt more than a little uncomfortable.
"Nuncle Flam! Aunty Crokie!" Frodo wriggled out of Bifur's lap (when had that happened, Bilbo wondered,) and ran forward for a hug from his 'uncles'. (Really, they were cousins, but 'Uncle' and 'Aunty' tended to be used more as a sign of intergenerational respect and affection in the Shire, and anyway, Frodo was far too young to really be expected to keep track of such things yet.)
"Frodo me boy!" Crocus grinned, and this time the expression reached her eyes. "You're getting taller every time I see you!" She deftly hoisted the fauntling up onto her shoulders, a move that surprised the dwarves, because although Crocus was hardly thin (no self-respecting hobbit allowed themselves to become so if they could possibly help it) her build was significantly daintier than that of dwarven women.
"Now I'm taller than you!" Frodo announced rather smugly, flapping his fuzzy feet next to Crocus's collarbones.
"Indeed you are," she chuckled, keeping a hand on the fauntling's back to steady him.
"Actually, Bilbo, if we couldn't just have a word with you outside?" Flambard requested, putting his arm around Bilbo's shoulders companionably. "Don't mind us, we just want to talk to our cousin."
Before anyone else inside could say anything, the four hobbits were out the door, with it shut smartly behind them.
"Well…" mused Dwalin. "That was rather neatly done."
"What do you mean?" asked Ori, blinking.
His brother Nori snickered mirthlessly.
"Note how they managed to get the two of them outside within only a few moments of going in the door? I imagine that what's happening just now is the Bagginses are being checked for injury or insult. If Mister Baggins has no desire to see us again, then that would be the last we see of him, or little Frodo, for that matter. Hobbits can be a rather suspicious lot, and like all races, they're very protective of their young ones. I'm thinking Mister Baggins might have mentioned in passing to some hobbit or another that he wasn't sure the wizard was going to take 'no' for an answer, so he called in some reinforcements," the thief explained, the tone in his voice similar to a craftsman critiquing the work of a worthy rival colleague.
"You are not wrong," said a voice.
The entire company jumped and spun to see an elderly hobbit leaning on a cane, backed by five burly-looking hobbits that appeared to be in some sort of uniform. Unlike all hobbits that the company had previously seen, these ones were conspicuously armed.
"Where'd you lot come from?" blinked Bofur.
"The back door," replied the elderly hobbit rather dryly.
...
A/N: oh the irony :P