Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit. Nor do I own Scumble, that is the property of Sir Terry Pratchett and the Discworld.
Words in bold are Khuzdul.
Happily watching his dwarvish guests relax, Bilbo piled a bit more food on a platter; to save it for his final guests' arrival. The laughing and joking band was making a slow, but steady, dent in what had been laid out for them- he only hoped that they would have room for dessert.
As the laughter grew louder, Bilbo faintly heard over it a knock at his door. Slipping away quietly- just in case it was a neighbor complaining about the noise- he rushed to answer it before the happy group could become distracted.
Opening his door a few wisps of snow flew in- it was going to be a white mid-winter after all- and he took in the sight of the sexiest person he had ever seen. Piercing blue eyes, silver streaked black hair and a perfectly built body- the fact that he was a Dwarf simply added to his appeal in Bilbos' mind. Grabbing the door to steady his suddenly weak knees, Bilbo gestured for the handsome dwarf to step inside.
Finally finding his voice the hobbit made his introduction.
"Bilbo Baggins, at your service. You must be the company's leader. A pleasure to meet you... um..."
"Thorin Oakenshield. And where is my company?" Thorin Oakenshield?! He had royalty in his home!
A sudden wave of laughter came from the dinning room, reminding the hobbit of the inquiry he had yet to answer.
"The dinning room. No-one knew when you would arrive, so we began without you. I hope that is alright."
"That is fine. My men need to be cared for first." Thorin looked over Bilbo's' small frame, causing the hobbit to flush.
"So, you are to be our burglar." Burglar? What? No!
"I'm sorry? I'm not a burglar. Who said I was a burglar?"
"The Wizard. He said he would find me a burglar to complete the company, and the mark on the door says you are one." Mark?
"There is no mark on my door." Opening his round door once more, he saw the blue glowing emblem. He shut his door with a sigh- after noting that the snow was already coming down harder- and turned towards his newest arrival.
"I'm sorry, but it seems that that wizard is playing a joke on us all. I am no burglar; just a simple hobbit. Now, let us get you settled and then we can join the others; hopefully before the food is all gone."
Leading the Dwarf King to his largest guest-chamber, the one right next to his own room- oh the terrible things he could do to this sexy man were he not of royal stock- he then lead the way to the dinning room.
No-one noticed them as Bilbo sat Thorin down. No-one batted an eye as the hobbit brought a laden tray over and served the new arrival. It wasn't until the small man was setting a glass of wine on the table that anyone even looked over.
Conversation tapered off as- one-by-one- the company became aware of Thorin's' presence. Bilbo looked around the table and noticed how everyone looked like they wanted to ask questions of Thorin before he had even picked up his fork- he put a stop to that with a glare.
"You have all had a chance to eat in peace, you will afford your leader the same privilege." As he received nods to this, conversation started up again and he felt sure that his late arrived guest would be left to eat his fill.
Smiling at the Dwarf King's questioning look, Bilbo simply resumed eating his own meal and quietly watching the conversations around the table.
Dwalin and Nori seemed to be discussing the different uses of their blades.
Balin, Oin, Dori and Gandalf were discussing something about herbs, tea and healing.
Fili and Kili had wrangled Ori and Bofur into a discussion on who had the scariest glare: Bilbo or Thorin. It wouldn't be long before bets were being taken, the hobbit surmised.
Bombur was extolling the virtues of hobbit cookery to a bemused looking Bifur and Gloin.
Thorin had dug into his meal as soon as he realized he was being ignored until he had eaten.
Sitting back with a content smile, Bilbo mused that this may not be a traditional hobbit mid-winter gathering; but it was already a better one than he had imagined having.
Letting his eyes fall on Balin again, Bilbo contemplated the puzzle of just where he had heard that name before. No, not heard. Read!
"That's it!" Jumping from his seat, he didn't even realize everyone was looking after him; not until he returned a few minutes later with a large book in hand to find everyone silent and staring.
Blushing brightly, Bilbo made his way over to Balin.
"Master Balin, I think I have something of yours." Passing the large, heavy, iron reinforced book to the old dwarf; Bilbo didn't miss the way his eyes lit up.
"By Mahal, where did you get this laddie?" Balin kept his eyes on the book, running a hand over it as if it were a long forgotten treasure; which- it could be argued- it was.
"About twenty years ago I found this with several other dwarvish and elvish books in Bree; the tradesman was going to burn his whole collection because he could no longer afford to cart them around." Balin looked up at him with wide eyes at that.
"My mother bought everything he had to save them from the flames. It is what started my passion for collecting. I had never expected to meet the owner of any of the books, but now that you are here: I am glad to return your family tome to you."
Bilbo suddenly found himself in a warm embrace. Rubbing soothing circles on Balin's back, Bilbo let the older man take a moment to collect himself.
After they broke apart, the small man decided that it was perhaps time to find out- officially- why he had a houseful of Dwarves. Besides, a change of topic would be good for the overly emotional Balin- and it looked like Dwalin could use a moment as well.
"Master Oakenshield? If you are done, could you please tell how your meeting went with your kin. I'm sure that that is the top question on everyone's mind." Meeting those beautiful blue eyes, Bilbo saw that Thorin understood his tactic. With a nod, the king began.
"The Dwarves of the Iron Hills will not join us." As Thorin told of his journey, and his disappointment, Bilbo noticed Gandalf looking shifty. So when the wizard reveled a map and key the hobbit wasn't too surprised- though he was surprised to recognize the map.
Bilbo cleared the table as Gandalf and Thorin began to argue over visiting the Elves to translate the small section of writing. Once the table was clean of plates, he leaned over to confirm that it was the same map that he had put away in his collection.
"I have the translation if you want." The young hobbit spoke up into a short silence between the two larger men. Gandalf was the first to recover his composure.
"Bilbo, this is a Dwarven map. It is one of a kind, drawn by a King. There is no way you could have seen it before, let alone have a translation." Dismissing the small man with a condescending smile, the wizard turned back to the Dwarven King; and completely missed the glares leveled at him from several of the company.
Turning towards the watching company, Bilbo rolled his eyes at the wizard; gaining him several chuckles. Putting on an innocent air when the tall Man again looked at him, the hobbit ignored him to smile at the waiting dwarves.
"It should be filed away, I could use some help finding it. Does anyone here have any experience with books?" When Ori raised a cautious hand, Bilbo smiled wider at the young Dwarf.
"The rest of you do not need to confine yourselves to the dinning room. Please, feel free to explore and make yourselves comfortable. I have dessert in the kitchen if anyone is still hungry." Several of the Dwarves looked crestfallen. There was dessert and they were all too full to eat it!
"You can have some later if don't have any now." They all brightened up at that.
"If you would care to follow me Master Ori."
"Please Master Baggins, just Ori; if you don't mind."
"I don't mind- so long as you call me Bilbo." With a smile the young scribe followed the hobbit out of the room and down the hall.
Just as the assembled company began to drift from their seats, some to go and see these supposed desserts, a loud shout came from the hall that their host and scribe had just taken.
The whole company rushed towards the noise, Dori and Nori at the lead. Coming to a stop just outside of an open door, they were met by an odd sight: Ori was on his knees, arms wrapped around the small figure of their host and muttering 'thank you' over and over in a variety of languages.
Turning to the group at the door, Bilbo tried to explain what had happened.
"I offered to let him have free reign in here until it was time for everyone to leave." Understanding dawned and everyone relaxed. As the flustered company took in the room that had reduced their scribe to a happy rambling mess, several gasps were heard.
It was a large room, and was stuffed full- floor to ceiling- with books, bags, a few chests and odd pieces of whatnot. All of which was of dwarvish make. Gandalf was the first to ask the obvious question.
"Where did you get all of this?" Bilbo gently pushed Ori over to a chest to begin searching for the map while he answered questions.
"As I told Master Balin, I started collecting twenty-odd years ago. This is the product of twenty years of diligent searching and convivial associations with traders who know I will pay well for anything they can find me." With a shrug he turned to random chest and started his own search.
"But what do you do with them all?" What did he do with them? They were books! What did that wizard think he did with books?
"I read them of course. That is what you're supposed to do with books, isn't it?"
"You can read Khazdul?"
"Yes. I can write it as well. My aglab needs work though. I've found Elvish to be easier; though not as expressive." The wizard huffed a bit and was silent, so Bilbo went back to looking for his copy of the map.
"Laddie, putting aside how you could have possible learned our language, I don't think you understand our concern here. We have never seen a collection of Dwarvish books this size outside of a Dwarf Kingdom. Where did they all come from?" Ori spoke up to answer this time.
"Erebor. Most of these papers have the markings of the kingdom of Erebor on them! And some of these others are from Khazad-dum!" This was news to the hobbit. He had always wondered how so much literature had come into the hands of Men, now he knew. They were the spoils of lost kingdoms.
At the revelation that most of these books came from their homeland, every dwarf began to press into the little space of the large room that wasn't given over to literature or artifacts. Again it was Ori who stepped up.
"No! Back! Back! Out! You could hurt the books, crowding them like that." Once all the dwarves were back in the hall, Bilbo addressed them.
"I don't mind you all looking through my collection. And if any of it really is from Erebor, then I will gladly give it to you once you have retaken your mountain." Thorin stepped forward at that.
"Who said anything about taking back Erebor?" Bilbo hastened to reassure the King that no-one had let slip their- obviously secret- mission goal.
"I saw your map, and you were seeking a burglar- I assume to sneak in and see if the dragon is still alive- and Gandalf had asked if I wanted to go on an adventure. It really wasn't that hard to figure out."
At this point Ori stood up with a shout, waving several pieces of paper around. Taking the pages from the excited scribe, Bilbo confirmed that they were the ones he was looking for.
"Thank you Ori. If you don't mind, can I ask you to take over caring for this room for the duration of your visit? I know everyone will want to look at the books, and you seem to know how to handle them." A small, yet sly, smirk spread over the young dwarf's face.
"Do you mean the books or the other dwarves?" This made Bilbo smile, he was glad the young dwarf was coming out of his shell around him.
"A little of both, maybe. But for now we can all go back to the dinning room and look over what I have." As they left his Dwarven library behind, the small hobbit caught several wistful looks back towards it. Ori was going to have a hard time keeping them all out of there, Bilbo decided.
Once everyone was seated again, the young hobbit placed the first two pages on the table, they looked to be not quite as old as the map Thorin had just been given. The first paper was an exact copy of Thorin's map. The second paper was the same map, but with additional writing; and what looked like notes written on the margin.
"I have a book on how to translate ancient Dwarvish into modern Khuzdul." Here he placed the third much newer piece of paper down.
"I translated it years ago- though I don't know what the notes on the side say, there in some sort of code-" He was interrupted by a slightly shaky Thorin.
"It is a cipher my father created- only he and I could read it. The notes are in his hand as well. He writes to say that he didn't know if the original map would ever reach my hands, and he wanted me to have an easier time deciphering it than he did. That is his mark at the bottom of both maps."
As the Dwarven King reached for the unexpected missive from him long lost father, Bilbo continued with his explanation. He wanted everyone to focus their attention on him and away from Thorin, the man needed a moment to compose himself.
"The ancient script tells about a secret door on the west side of the Lonely Mountain. The door will only show itself with the last rays of light on Durin's day. It being mid-winter now, you have half a year to make your way to the Lonely Mountain. And a good thing you have so much time too, seeing as you all are stuck here for a while."
Several confused looks where shared out among the company, and a few suspicious glares leveled at the small man.
"Don't look at me like that. Just be glad your under cover right now, and not out in that blizzard." As he received more confused looks he let out a huff.
"Now don't tell me you don't hear it." Looks of confusion were shared among the company until Kili spoke up.
"Master Boggins-"
"Bilbo, please."
"Bilbo. The weather was fine when we arrived, it was warm even. How could a blizzard occur so quickly?" Gandalf finally made himself useful, and pulled himself out of his pout at having no reason now to go see his friends in Rivendell.
"Weather in the Shire is unusually predictable. There is always deep snow at mid-winter and never any rain during mid-summer. As the winter so far has been too warm for snow, it stands to reson that a blizzard would be required to give enough snow for a proper mid-winter celebration."
Assuming that he had made sense to everyone, the wizard returned to looking over Bilbo's maps; he for one would relax and enjoy himself, it wasn't often he got to celebrate mid-winter in the Shire after all.
Wanting to see for them selves if it was true, several of the younger set ran to the door. They came back cold and covered in snow, Fili spoke this time.
"It's a blizzard." At his words everyone slumped, they had meant to ride out in the morning; now it seemed they would be imposing on their host for an extended time.
Even if he was polite and had fed them an incredible meal, no-one wanted to be burdened with thirteen unexpected Dwarves- even other dwarves demanded to be warned ahead of time!
Their host, though, was rather happy with this turn of events. He quite enjoyed having a full smial, and now it looked like he would have one through the holiday and perhaps a bit after as well.
He took in the wary faces of his guests and realized that they thought they would be imposing on him. Well, he would just have to relieve them of that idea. Turning towards Thorin with a smile, he spoke so everyone could hear him.
"It looks like I get to have the pleasure of you and yours for the holiday. To tell the truth I couldn't be happier with how this has worked out, spending the holidays alone isn't any fun. This way I can have good company and everyone can have a chance to go through my library at their leisure." With a smile the hobbit stood.
"Why don't we get everyone's rooms situated and then meet in the sitting room for dessert and drinks. I'm sure most of us could use a glass of something strong right now, I have some Scumble that should do the trick." As he turned away to start sorting people into rooms, Balin asked what they were all thinking.
"You really don't mind our staying, laddie?" It took the small man a moment to realize that they had all been prepared to be kicked out into snow storm- as if any self respecting hobbit would do such a thing! Well, Lobelia might; but that sort of confirmed his point.
"No Master Balin, I do not mind in the least." He noted that they only looked half convinced. He wished he could make them believe him, he was already feeling very protective of his dwarves.
After he had everyone sorted out room-wise- Fili and Kili were sharing, so were Gloin and Oin; the last room that needed to be doubled up was taken by Nori and Ori(with Dori quickly taking the single next to them)- Bilbo brought out several platters of goodies and plenty of small cups.
Pulling out a bottle of last year's Scumble, he set to working on the cork. Once open, the room filled with the scent of apples.
Nori finally broke the expectant silence as they were all handed a full yet tiny glass- even in Bilbos' small hand the glass was tiny.
"I've heard of scumble, men consider it quite strong and trade highly for it; but I have never had any before. Is it true that it is made from apples and nothing else?" Bilbo smiled, tonight would be fun if none of them had had Scumble before.
"Yes, Master Nori. Apples and nothing but apples, that is the only way to make true Scumble." The Dwarves all relaxed at that admission.
If it was only apples then there was nothing to worry about. They were Dwarves! They enjoyed heavy drinking! No little drink made of apples would give them pause.
"Bottoms up!" Bilbo quickly drained his small glass and smirked as everyone followed suit.
All but the wizard of course. But then the tall Man knew how strong the drink really was and had no wish to tangle with it.
There was no liquor on Middle Earth stronger than Hobbit made Scumble!
Aglab: the dwarves spoken language
Khazad-dum: Moria