Disclaimer: I don't own anything - Tolkien gets all the credit.

A/N: I hope you enjoy the next chapter! Thank you for amazing feedback and please keeping reviewing!

Chapter Three

How in the world did she get into this mess? The night was warm, quiet, and everything that a late summer night in the Shire should be… Posey wasn't able to take note of this beauty, however, as she was practically shoved outside by massive hands belonging to an immense dwarf. Stumbling on the stone steps of the garden, Posey turned around to the look at the dwarf in question and saw him standing tall, arms once again crossed over his expansive chest. "I must say, sir Dwalin, this is highly irregular! What was so important that we could not discuss it inside?"

He made her so nervous. It wasn't that she felt frightened of him – he had a way about him that put her at ease almost immediately – but he was a silent and the way he looked at her – Goodness! His eyes were trained on her hair, which prompted Posey to smoothing her curly locks a bit, just in case she'd become disheveled during the course of the night.

Dwalin's smirk lifted into an almost smile as he watched Posey attempt to calm the curls that obviously couldn't be tamed. The light shining into them from the windows of Bag End highlighted the golden tones in her hair, making it a halo that glowed around her face. Sighing rather loudly, Dwalin spoke, low and rough - "Dwarves don't often do," his hand lifted and motioned between the two of them, "this. Of the twelve of us here, only two chose the path. It's why there aren't many of us to begin with."

This?

"Pardon? What do you mean by 'this'?" Posey mimicked Dwalin's motion between them. What in the world was he talking about? Oh dear – he was walking closer!

"I've seen the way ye've been looking at me, lassie." Posey stepped back as much as the garden steps would allow – she had been looking at him? Surely he realized that it was him who'd been looking at her? "I've been watching ye too. Though it doesn't make much sense – ye're far too small and the lack of beard is troublesome."

Lack of a beard?! Surely that was a good thing? "I'm afraid I still don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes ye do, lass. Ye've just decided not to acknowledge it. Mahal knows, ye're a timid little thing." The look of his face was softer now and he reached out to touch her hair. The delicate curls wrapped quickly around his large fingers. "I'm far too old to play games, Posey Baggins. If this is going to happen, we'll need to decide it now. We're headed out in the morning, little one, so there isn't much time."

The feel of his fingers in her hair was driving Posey to distraction. "What do we need to decide?"

"Whether or not I'm coming back for ye once the quest is done." Dwalin had separated out a thick curl on the side of Posey's head and she could feel his fingers separating the curl into smaller sections – Braiding it? What an odd thing to do!

"You're going on a quest? A quest to where?" Posey could smell the leather and… the pure masculinity of the dwarf as he continued to play with her hair. If she leaned forward just a bit, her face would touch the fur that hung down from his shoulders. What in the world was going on?!

"To the east, to our homeland. The journey will be long and I wouldn't return for quite a while. I need to know that ye want me to come back for you. If ye do, I'll claim you now and you'll be mine." Posey had been fleetingly mesmerized by the combination of his rumbling voice and his fingers nearing the end of the new braid that it took a moment for her to digest exactly what the dwarf had said.

Her blush would surely be permanent now – Goodness gracious! Claim?! How does a dwarf claim someone?! "Sir Dwalin-"

"Just Dwalin, lass."

Posey ignored the interruption. "Why would you travel all the way back to the Shire for me? You've only known me for a few hours! I'm not sure I like the idea of being 'claimed' either! I'm not a sheep!"

Dwalin's laugh was loud and Posey was once again struck by how lovely the sound was. "Lass, ye don't' understand dwarven custom, that's for certain, so I'll explain it to ye. We dwarves don't often choose to share ourselves with another. We like freedom and we like our crafts, so taking on a partner isn't always seen as a good thing. I'm 169 years-old and I've never been tempted to claiming a partner before."

169 years-old?! Oh dear. That's… 134 years older than… Oh dear.

"When a dwarf does claim one, it's forever. We're not like fickle men who go from woman to woman. If ye choose this, lass, it'll be for good. I'll put a braid in your hair and you'll wear it as a sign that ye're mine."

Hadn't he already put a braid in her hair?

"Is this some sort of proposal?" Posey squeaked, her eyes locked with Dwalin's as he stepped up even closer to her. The fur lining his upper body tickled her face.

"If that's what ye want to call it, lass."

Oh. Dear.

"After knowing me for less than three hours?" Was he leaning down? Surely not!

His mouth was much softer than the rough hairs of his beard. The kiss wasn't passion-filled like Posey would have expected from this dwarf – it was sweet. It felt like he was waiting for her to pull away… she didn't. Surely her mother was turning in her grave.

When Dwalin pulled back, he immediately reached to his waist where he had a small pouch attached to his wide leather belt. Posey could hear metal clinking against metal as he dug his large fingers into the pouch. He'd grabbed a small circular… thing? It had small engravings on it, but before Posey could examine it, Dwalin put the metal object at the base of the braid in her hair. He tugged on it, testing to see if was secure, and then grunted happily. "There, lass. I'll come back for ye once we've settled matters in Erebor." He then, without another glance or word to her, walked back inside.

Surely that didn't just happen? "Oh dear." Posey started pacing the front step without realizing it. She should follow him back inside and let him know that she hadn't promised anything… right? She should tell him that this was happening entirely too fast and if he was planning to leave in the morning, she would not expect him to return… right? "Oh dear."

Posey didn't have much more time to examine the alarming events of the past few minutes, as her brother's voice could be heard from inside - "Excuse me! That's my mother's West Farthing pottery! It's over a hundred years-old!" Posey walked back inside to see plates and bowls flying, being tossed between the dwarves in a distressing dance of limbs, glass, and hair. "Can you not do that?! You'll blunt them!"

"Oh, did ye hear that, lads? He says we'll blunt the knives!" Posey could hear laughter first, then song. The dwarves were having plenty of fun at her brother's expense, much to her chagrin. Posey heard music coming out of the dining room and she slowly made her way towards the sounds, dodging the flying pottery, when the young blonde dwarf – Foli? No, Fili! – spun her around and passed her along to the one with the funny hair – Nori! She remembered that one! – who dipped her in a quick motion, at once dancing with her and also keeping a large bowl from colliding with her head. She spun off and hit the wall of the dining room lightly – Dwalin winked at her from his position at the end of the table where he stood masterfully playing a viol next to Bofur, who was playing a clarinet.

Posey could see the goal of this bizarre musical number – the plates and bowls and cutlery were all heading toward the kitchen for washing. It was kind of them to clean up their horrific mess, but Posey was certain that her brother would have a heart attack if this went on much longer.

"That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!" The cheering and laughter at the end of the song was a relief. Posey giggled a bit at the look on her brother's face. She was about to see if Bilbo was alright when a loud knock on the door interrupted her. The entire group silenced immediately, all heads turning to the doorway and whoever it was that waited outside.

"He is here." Gandalf's voice was soft, but all in the room heard him.

Thorin Oakenshield's arrival at Bag End had quickly settled the group of dwarves. The dwarven king was not impressed with Bilbo (though it was still a mystery as to why he cared about her brother's weapon prowess at all) and didn't' even glance in Posey's direction when she brought him a bowl of stew and mug of ale. Gandalf had motioned for Posey to leave the room when discussions began and, being the dutiful and gentle hobbit she was, Posey nodded and walked toward her room at the rear of the house.

The low sound of dwarven voices could be heard from where Posey now sat at her vanity, looking at her reflection in the small mirror that hung on the wall. The braid that now adorned the right side of her head was artfully made – it wasn't just a small braid that a little girl would wear when playing outside. It was the kind of braid that was painstakingly put in a bride's hair while she prepared for her wedding. Instead of three sections, this braid seemingly had dozens of inter-woven parts connecting for a perfectly beautiful, thick, and surprising long plait. The metal ornament at the end of the braid was a simple clasp that encapsulated the end of her hair – it had a strange series of geometric patterns circling it – the patterns mirrored the ones she'd seen on Dwalin's metal… well, see wasn't sure those things were on his hands, but the markings were the same.

A loud series of shouts shocked Posey out of her reverie. What in the world was going on out there? The dwarven king's voice was raised, talking about 'signs' and 'assessing' and something about the 'wealth of our people.' Posey was glad she didn't have to be out there – this adventure seemed entirely too complicated and confusing for her, even if she'd always wanted to travel outside of the Shire.

Thinking back to Dwalin's conversation with her just a short time ago, Posey felt her face get warm. How in the world had this day gone from a simple morning, just like any other, to a dwarf filled evening that included a kiss and a proposal from a warrior? Posey looked to the mirror again and saw the smile on her face… she was taking all of this rather well. Any other hobbit would have crawled under their bed to wait for the dwarves to leave… Instead, Posey sat at her vanity, apparently 'claimed' by a dwarf as his future wife, and she had a smile on her face.

One thing didn't add up, though… What exactly was Bilbo's part in this? Why was he out there, taking part in the conversation? When Gandalf had come this morning, he'd said that he was looking for someone to take part in an adventure – Surely Bilbo would decline? Right?

"Mistress Posey!" The adorable, sweet dwarf – Nori's brother… Orni? – called from the hallway, "Master Baggins has passed out! Gandalf needs your help!"

"Oh dear."

A/N: There it is! If it seems fast, that's the idea! No slowmances or awkward moments of trying to analyze feelings here! … well, not yet, at least ;) Please review!