Chapter two
"So this is our burglar," Thorin paced slowly around the confused hobbit. "He looks more like a grocer, than a burglar."
Oh, I realized now why we were at Bag End. I had not quite registered the rune on the door that meant "burglar looking for a job," or rather "expert treasure hunter," had something to do with the hobbit until now. What on earth was Gandalf doing?
"Burg –burglar?" Bilbo was taken aback.
"Do you fight?" It was barely a question.
"Fight, f–fight? If you must know, I am rather good with a game of Conkers," he hooked his thumbs rather proudly on his suspenders, "but I don't see what that has to do with anything,"
"I thought as much," amusement laced through the words and the dwarves all snickered a little.
I sighed. Conkers was a game of horse-chestnuts: each player would tie a string around a spiky little nut and then whip it at one another and bash it about on the opponent until their own conker breaks. It could sting like a royal slap if one took a hit in the face or the neck, but he really shouldn't have mentioned it in front of the dwarves. Thorin was asking about swords and axes and bows... not nuts.
I stepped out of the shadows and leaned against a curved wall, waiting. Hesitating, I stayed silent, not sure if I wanted did or did not want to draw attention to myself. Thorin shrugged off his long fur lined blue leather longcoat and Dori stepped forward to take it from him. Unbelting his sword, he handed it to Nori. Tilting my head, I studied him carefully. Reading people and situations easily and accurately was one of my most precious skills, yet he was so very difficult to emotionally decipher at times. I wondered how much of his own personal feelings he could ever reveal as a leader of his people from such a young age.
On an impulse, I stepped forward, "Supper, Thorin?"
He raised his head suddenly to meet my eyes. In that moment, I thought a saw a little surprise, and perhaps even relief on his face, but it passed so quickly I wasn't sure if it was even there.
"Wanderer,"
Something stung me in my lower chest and I couldn't speak. Wanderer. His eyes were unfathomable and unforgiving. Our gaze never broke. I was barely breathing.
Then something changed in his hammering stare and his smooth, deep, gravelly voice uttered "Tallis," and his face softened and he smiled, the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes crinkling.
The tension in my chest dissolved and my face broke into a brilliant grin. "I'm sure Bilbo can still find you something to eat after your company inhaled just about everything in the pantry. Come,"
Bilbo scurried beside me, "Everything in the pantry," he corrected. I made a face at him.
Soon, everyone was seated at the table again with Thorin at the head, drinking a bowl of soup Bilbo had discovered in the oven that he left there to keep warm. Gandalf sat on Thorin's left and I leaned into the curve of the round frame of the entrance to the dining room on his right. It was darker now and Gandalf had sent Bilbo to fetch a lamp.
Dwalin spoke first. "Will they come? Dain and his men?"
Thorin sighed heavily, "The dwarves of the Ironhills will not come,"
Grumbling the dwarves began to murmur and then complain: "The odds were always against us!" they cried. They began to speak of doubt and of the impossible quest and the danger. The clamour grew until Thorin had to stand and slam the little spoon in his hand on the table and yell.
"If we have read the signs correctly, which, we have, this is our time to act. Do you not think that if we have read the signs, others will have seen them as well? The beast has not been seen for sixty years and now all eyes turn to the lonely mountain, seeking and evaluating and weighing the risk and reward. We will seize this chance to take back Erebor!" A roar and shaking of fists rose in reply.
I could feel my heart quicken with their cries and shouts.
"Excuse me, what beast?" the plaintive voice of the hobbit cropped up from behind me.
Bofur was too happy to oblige. "Oh that would be a reference to Smaug the terrible," Bofur answered, "Fire breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, extremely fond of precious metals."
"I know what a dragon is." the hobbit gasped and took a step back.
Suddenly, Ori shot up with a look of fear crazed and defiance on his face. "I'm not afraid! I'm up for it; I'll give him a taste of dwarfish iron right up his jacksy!" Dori pulled his little brother down with a thump.
Gandalf laid a map upon the table. Stepping forward, Gandalf and I flanked Thorin on either side.
"Here lays the single solitary peak of Erebor," Gandalf pointed.
"Yes, but there is no way into the mountain. The gate has been sealed off." Balin spoke.
"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true."Fumbling, the old wizard drew a heavy, angular, clearly dwarvish key from his pocket and handed it to Thorin.
"How did you come by this?" Thorin's eyes were ablaze with awe and suspicion.
"Your father left it in my keeping to give to you,"
We all watched as he turned it over in his fingers.
"If there is a key," Kili suddenly spoke from down the table, "there must be a door,"
"If there is a door," Fili finished, "there must be another way in."
I refrained from rolling my eyes at their apparent findings.
"There is a secret passage," Gandalf said.
"If we do get in, what will we do about the beast?" Gloin cut in.
"This is where Mr. Baggins comes in. Hobbits can go unseen and unheard when they want to and Smaug will be used to the smell of dwarf, but the scent of hobbit will be all but unknown to him."
"Wait!" Bilbo's eyes were as wide as saucers.
"He doesn't look like a burglar to me," someone yelled.
Bilbo nodded, agreeing whole-heartedly.
"He's no good as a burglar for us –he's fat and soft around the middle and cares too much about his dishes and crocheting,"
Bilbo frowned, but said nothing –he was determined not to go on the quest, it seemed.
"That task will be difficult, even with an army behind us. But we're just thirteen." Balin spoke.
"If Smaug is not dead –we have no means to defeat him or get past him," Thorin passed his hand over his face and the table returned to its chaos and noise.
"We may be few in number, but we're fighters, all of us!" Fili slammed his fist on the table.
"And do you not forget we have a wizard in our company, Gandalf must have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!" Kili reminded.
"Oh, well I wouldn't say that-" Gandalf began.
"How many then?"
"What?"
"How many dragons have you killed?"
Gandalf shot me a glance and coughed on his pipe, as the dwarves descended into shouts again –about whether Gandalf had killed dragons and how Bilbo was a soft little grocer. I returned his look with one of my own: you got yourself into this, old man.
These dwarves were impossible. My jaw tightened. Was this quest really what I wanted to do for the next year or two of my life? Scratch that –there was little chance I would ever return in one piece, or even a few pieces. I realized with a jolt that I hadn't even thought about the journey properly and clearly at all. All I had done was gotten a letter, then seemed to slip right into thinking that I was already a part of the company. What was I doing? Where did my good sense and wits go? Panicked, I backed against the wall as the dwarves shouted louder.
Suddenly, Gandalf rose up and the room darkened and his voice boomed as his shoulders were digging into the ceiling. "LISTEN TO ME –I HAVE CHOSEN Bilbo Baggins as the fourteenth member of your company and you must trust me on this! Besides, Bilbo has a lot more to offer than you think and more than he thinks."
"What me? NO, no –,"
"Give him our contract," Thorin closed his eyes wearily.
"Yes! We're off!" the dwarves sounded relieved.
Balin handed Bilbo a long contract. "It's just the usual; summary about pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements so forth."
Bilbo unfurled the long folds of parchment. "Funeral arrangements?" He swallowed but read on. "Oh, up to but not exceeding one fourteenth total profit if any. Seems fair... Present company shall not be liable for injuries including but not limited to laceration, evisceration... incineration?"
Bofur chimed in again, "Oh, aye. He'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye."
"You all right, laddie?" Balin peered at the teetering hobbit.
"Yeah, I'll be. Feel a bit faint," Bilbo hunched over, his hands on his thighs.
Bofur continued, "Think furnace, with wings."
"Bofur." I moaned.
"Yeah, I-I-I need air,"
"Flash of light, searing pain, then poof, you're nothing more than a pile of ash."
"Stop it! You're –," I glared at him.
Bilbo let out a breathy, "No," and keeled over.
The dwarves looked at the little figure with mixed expressions of disgust and sympathy. Sighing, I stepped over to poor Bilbo and picked him up gently like a child.
"Someone, get me a pillow," I ordered.
I ducked into the living room and was about to lay him down on a settee when a voice came from behind me.
"Here,"
I turned to look down into Thorin's face –full of irritation. Placing the pillow on the edge of the settee and moved back to allow me to place the hobbit gently down.
"Watch him," I told Thorin and went off to find brandy.
Just at the door, I turned back. His eyes found mine and they were full of badly-veiled desperation. I opened my mouth, but I didn't know what to say, so I just spun around and left.
Bilbo woke up a few minutes later and with some brandy and some air from the window, he was sitting in front of the fire talking to Gandalf. I could hear the wizard trying to persuade the hobbit to come, but tonight's excitement seemed quite enough for him.
"I'm sorry Gandalf, you have the wrong hobbit," Bilbo stood up and padded off dazedly to his room.
Gandalf sighed and sank into the chair.
I wandered towards the window and saw the moon high up in the sky. I needed to get some air too. Besides, my neck was sore from all the leaning down I had to do. Padding towards the door, I overheard low voices down the corridor. It was Balin and Thorin.
"We are just smiths and tinkers and cooks and toymakers, not heroes,"
"When I called, only you thirteen answered. Loyalty, honor, and a willing heart –I can ask no more than that."
Turning away, I unlocked the door and stepped outside into the night air. Dare I go on the quest? I smiled wryly. Months in the wilderness with nothing but hard ground to sleep on, sore-footed dwarves as companions, and danger at every turn sounded lovely. What would it be all for? The gold? I needed no gold. The adventure? I could find some on my own. I pushed down the third thought before it began to form. I kicked the fence instead. I stopped as I heard the door open behind me and the tread of a heavy boot.
"Tallis,"
"Thorin,"
"I understand if you do not wish to come,"
So blunt, but that was the usual. "I haven't signed the contract yet,"
He paused. "Does that mean you will not come?"
I shook my head at myself. My heart was set on this quest the first time I read the letter. I faced him, smiling. "Give me the contract." Saying so made me happy. That was all I was looking for.
He had been frowning like a hedgehog, but his grin erased that quickly. We stood there, grinning like idiots at one another until we broke into dry chuckles.
"I've missed you, you know," I said as I walked towards him and stepped past him to the door.
He was silent.
"It would be nice to hear the same from you," I teased as I went in.
He snorted. But his face was as easy to read as a book.
*this was more of a filler chapter -Tallis tells the dwarves about her childhood and her first travels in the next chapter.