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One quiet morning a letter came.
Bilba sat on her porch for a long while, just staring at the words. No one came to comfort her.
Eventually she went inside and put into her hair a braid she had only used once before, tucked close to her left temple. The bead adoring it was carved from red granite.
She spoke with her gardner the next day.
"Master Gamgee, I'm afraid I must vacate Bag End for the foreseeable future. Would you be so good as to look after the flowers and air out the rooms while I am away?"
"Of course Miss Bilba," the curly haired hobbit nodded. "Might I ask where you're going, if it's not too much trouble?"
She smiled in a way that made her heart want to break. "I must settle the affairs of my late great-great-grandmother."
"The dwarf?" he yelped in surprise, and immediately felt foolish when Bilba looked at him.
"Yes. She was nearly three hundred, quite ancient for a dwarf."
"I just never thought she would go," he tried to amend.
If anything her smile grew even sadder. "Neither did I." She visibly gathered herself. "I've left a letter with the bank for your wages. Please look after my property until I return."
With a quick curtsy she scurried back into her smial.
The granite house was just as Bilba remembered, save for the fact that it was no longer a home. She kept her mind off the silent halls by sorting through her great-grandmothers rooms full of manthoms.
Shelves and shelves of rocks, some carved, some left in their natural shape, filled the back rooms. A few chests were found to contain some gems which Bilba could have mistook for glass they were so flawless.
The girl couldn't find the heart to throw her amadel's collection away, so she piled the larger stones in the sitting room where they would catch the light. She sent the smaller ones by the barrel load back to Bag End where they could be sorted when she was in a better state of mind.
Most of the furniture and trappings had already been moved out of the side rooms. Only the kitchen and guest room remained lived in, along with a couch in the front room. Bilba only managed to open Kayli's bedroom door once, before deciding she needed to take a break.
Thus, dusty and gritty, Bilba ceased her cleaning and slumped on the front bench, exhausted.
That was where Gandalf the Grey found her.
Bilba was not in the mood.
After a cryptic conversation in which Bilba pointedly did not invite the wizard in for tea, the hobbit decided to take stock of the pantry. Just when she had dragged the last bag of potatoes into the kitchen proper and set a pot of stew to boil, she heard a knock at the door.
Curious as to who would be knocking at this particular smial at this hour, Bilba dusted off her hands to answer it.
Her heart jumped when she saw the imposing figure on her doorstep. Bilba was considered quite tall for a hobbit, and had been able to meet her amadel's eyes easily when fully grown. Looking at the dwarf staring gruffly at her, Bilba felt small for the first time in a long while.
His gaze swept over the thick braids descending behind her ears and the smaller beaded one by her temple. Bilba pointedly did not move to straighten her hair. The dwarf bowed respectfully.
"Dwalin at your service."
Now what did amadel say about dwarvish manners?
Bilba bent smartly at the waist, glad she was wearing pants and a high buttoning shirt. "Bilba Baggins, at yours and your family's."
"Uh." She fumbled for a moment, before recalling how impolite it was to ask about a dwarf's business without first sharing a meal, especially so if travel had been involved to get to the meeting place. Travel had definitely been involved for this dwarf to end up on her doorstep. Perhaps he knew...had known Kayli.
"I've just started on some dinner, if you would like to join me. Unfortunately I've moved the table while emptying the larder. Would you mind eating in the sitting room?"
Dwalin grunted in what Bilba hoped was a positive acceptance as she closed the door behind him. He eyed the carved pillars holding up the hall ceiling appreciatively.
"A fine cave you have here. From where did the architect hail?"
"The Blue Mountains," she said, and tugged on her mourning braid before she could stop herself.
He nodded, as if expecting such an answer.
Bilba led him to the sitting room before returning to the kitchen. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend the echoing steps belonged to someone else.
Another knock on the door sounded, revealing a white haired dwarf named Balin. She left him in the sitting room with Dwalin, who had abandoned his examination of the gem pile to greet the newest guest with a knocking of heads.
They must be either close friends or brothers of some sort, Bilba thought, before another knock drew her from the kitchen.
Around this time Bilba began to suspect that the dwarfs invading her house were not old friends of her amadel, for the two faces grinning at her were much too young to have known Kayli before she came to the Shire.
"Filli," said the blonde.
"And Killi," the brunette added, before they finished together with an "At your service!" and well coordinated bow.
"You might as well come in," Bilba sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose to avoid the oncoming headache.
"Thanks," the youths chirped.
Filli pulled off his swords. "Is there anywhere I could put these?" he grinned politely.
Bilba's hand automatically reached towards the side closet, before memory caused her limb to falter. Fortifying herself with a breath, she tugged open the door and motioned for the blonde to deposit his weapons in the appropriate rack.
"These are some fine axes," he whistled appreciatively, eyeing the dusty items already present.
"They were my amadel's," Bilba says quietly.
Fili's face snaps to openly stare at her, his eyes searching her person for something. He sees her braids, and bows much more formally than he did at the door.
"I grieve for your loss, my lady, and apologize for my thoughtlessness."
She nods in acceptance, and escorts him to the sitting room.
The next knock brought an avalanche of bodies and one wizard who seemed pleasantly unaware of how much trouble he was in when a certain hobbit got her hands on him. Bilba just knew this whole mess was his fault.
Fortunately (for him), said wizard managed to keep Bilba from cornering him for a talk with an expertise which was much too casual to not have been practiced.
At about this time the dwarves had found all the food laid out in the kitchen and whipped up a feast faster than you could say 'orcs'! She recognized many of the scents wafting from the stove and was forced to excuse herself while she dabbed at her eyes. Bilba made a note to ask the cook, Dori she believed, for his recipes. Amadel had never...
"Excuse me, what should I do with my plate?" one of the auburn haired dwarfs asked politely.
"Hey give it here!" another called. As if some unseen signal had been switched, all of the metal dishes began flying through the air. Suddenly, Bilba understood why her grandmother insisted on such hardy utensils.
"Just please don't blunt the knives!" she couldn't help uttering as she took shelter from the war zone her living space had become.
"Hear that, she think's we'll blunt the knives!" Fili laughed.
"Blunt the knives, bend the forks!" His brother Kili began to sing, and was soon joined by a complete chorus and flute ensemble.
The hobbit was just considering breaking out her sword, when the music ended and the final party guest arrived.
A hush fell over the assembly, ringing much louder than the singing had in Bilba's ears.
The dwarf who entered was the very definition of regal. Two long braids trailed from the crown of his head behind his ears, much like the pattern Bilba herself wore.
He eyed her up and down, clearly unimpressed.
"So this is the burglar," he drawled, the timber of his voice pitched low. His lip curled in not quite a smirk as he examined her hair. "She looks more like a grocer playing dress
up."
Icy fire filled Bilba's veins. She drew herself to a height which would have towered over any other hobbit of the Shire like a thundercloud.
"I am the granddaughter of the Thain of the Shire and the great-granddaughter of Kayli Orefinder. I will not be disrespected by you in my own home!"
Her words could have cut diamonds. So could the gaze he sent back to her.
Bending at the waist slightly, he bowed in a manner befitting someone of his station. "Forgive me, madam, I did not mean to offend. Thorin Oakenshield, at your service."
Bilba considered being rude, but knew her amadel would have scolded her. This man's braids proclaimed him to be a ruler with much more authority than her own, after all. She bowed stiffly, before ushering him into the sitting room.
The others were talking animatedly, having obviously been eavesdropping on the little exchange by the door only moments before.
Thorin glanced at the gem pile, which had somehow become scattered from the neat pyramid it once sat in (Bilba made a note to check the dwarf's pockets), before settling at the head of the long table.
Bilba then learned why so many unexpected guests filled her grandmother's house.
A quest to slay a dragon sounded quite adventurous, though the rather graphic descriptions of possible fates laid out in her contract seemed a tad excessive.
Bilba was quite happy to say that she did not faint, though her heart raced quite fast as she put down her contract and asked for a moment to think. She was fully prepared to thank the dwarves for the honor of being chosen to join them, and refuse profusely.
Then they began to sing.
The music echoed cankerously through the empty stone halls. Bilba couldn't- she couldn't-
She just couldn't.
Scurrying into the nearest empty room, the hobbit barred the door and wept.
Is this what her amadel tried to explain in her stories? This thrum of sound and echo was just as Bilba had imagined it to be as a lass, when her mind conjured great halls of ancient grandeur to fill with warriors of old. Only one person was missing, and the loss bit into her heart with the beating of the granite bead at her brow.
What a horrible host I am, she thought wiping at her eyes. Amadel would be prodding at me to join the men on their quest. She let loose a watery giggle. For her sake, Bilba would not weep.
Checking that her eyes were no longer red in the mirror, she exited the room to quietly find Balin and his horrible contract.
Much later, after the larder was emptied of all edibles and drinkables, and the dwarfs snored loudly in the still furnished guest rooms, Bilba entered her grandmother's room.
She found a pair of boots kicked under the bed which fit enough to not cause her soft (for a hobbit) feet any pain. The travel pack was tucked in the closet behind some neatly folded tunics. Bilba fit the hardiest looking set to her petite frame, and took special care to pack her sewing kit with another change of cloths. The leathers felt odd compared to her usual cotton ensemble, but did not rub uncomfortably anywhere.
She looked at herself in the mirror and felt incredibly foolish. A little grocer playing dress up indeed.
Bilba redressed herself. The thick pants and fur lined coat remained, but her shirt and other underthings held a decidedly hobbit-ish style. She still looked odd, but no more odd than she usually felt with her braided hair and sword.
Speaking of which, she rummaged around till she found a sharpening stone in the desk drawer, along with a pair of jewel studded daggers which fit nicely in her belt. Briefly she contemplated the axes stashed in the closet, but decided against bringing them. Amadel could never get her backswing up to snuff, and Bilba didn't want to embarrass herself.
The next morning had barely dawned before the party was ready to leave. Bilba carefully shut the round door behind her and laid a hand reverently against the wood.
"I'll be back soon," she murmured to the empty granite smial. If she strained her imagination she could almost hear a voice scolding her for keeping the company waiting.
Or perhaps that was just Thorin's grumbling. He apparently was not a morning person.
Tossing her braids over her shoulder, Bilba eyed her first challenge.
The pony stared back, unconcernedly chewing grass.
"Right," she breathed, and hefted her leg over the beast's side, before promptly sliding back to the earth.
This was going to be harder than she expected.
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A/N: will update once a week till what I have written of the story is done.
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Dwarvish translations
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amadel - mother of all mothers. Closest word I could find to grandmother.
khajimel- gift of all gifts. I use it as an endearment, like when people say a child is a 'gift from above.'
urjukhudh - color. Here I'm using it to mean something like luster.
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Elvish Translations
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kalina - light
taurn - high
n'taurn - low
taurn kalina - high light, aka: ultraviolet, ect. I made up this concept based on science.
n'taurn kalina - low light, aka: red light spectrum, radio waves, ect. I made up this concept based on science.