✧.* DragonsanddwarveS*.✧ @dragonsanddwarves - Tumblr Blog

To the Shadows that Cry Witch /// Chapter 27

Jesus Christ I had no idea it's been almost NINE MONTHS since I last updated. But I finally handed in my dissertation!! Which means two more reports and an exhibition to organise and host and then I'm free from uni forever! Though unfortunately that does require for me to actually get a job.

But it also means my life isn't dictated by essay deadlines anymore THANK GOD. Aka more time for me to dedicate to this fic. And we've finally reached 100,000 words which is INSANE. Hopefully I'll see you guys pretty soon for the next chapter!

Summary: When two girls fell into Middle Earth, excited at the prospects of living through their all time favourite novel, they find things are not as they seem. Something is watching them, as if they're being dared to reveal their secrets. How will they survive the challenges of the journey, dealing with the darkness that follows them, alongside certain two princes who are fascinated at everything they do, and a brooding, grumpy king who begins to suspect that they aren't telling the whole truth.

Where were they from, really? They did take the rabbit hole down, after all.

Tags: Kili x OC - Fili x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company × ocs (platonic) - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Bagginshield

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: Swearing.

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

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Part 3: Chapter 27 -

April Fools. There's a lot of them.

Ludiosis (Definition): The sense that you’re just making it up as you go along.

(Noun / Origin: Invented by John Koenig for The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. / loo · dee · oh · sis)

Bag End, Hobbiton, The Shire – T.A. Tuesday, 26th April 2941 of the Third Age (Trewsday, 6th Thrimidge, 1341 in Shire-reckoning)

I do really wonder if it should have hit me by now.

Or back when I had fallen through the sky and hit the ground hard enough to break bones. Or falling over that hill and ending up unconscious in the front garden of a living, breathing hobbit. Or when we had settled in and became part of this place despite being a good two-feet-too-tall for it. Or when I had discovered magic in the forest, when I was chased by that glowing blue… thing, or when that black cat appeared for the second time, or sword training at Bree, or Gladiola sewing our clothes, or Kay getting possessed in a lake, or Kay floating in the air after I accidentally casted a goddamn spell.

Or, hell, the fact we had finally met Gandalf and that there were currently twelve dwarves sat around me at a table that hadn’t existed an hour ago, hands smeared with food, the air loud with voices but also the smell of the outside, of faint smoke, because at the end of the day these were travellers. With their pipes, their leather coats, their waterskins, their weapons that are far too real and very clearly used.

And here I am, sat amongst them, with one of the two that are technically royalty on one side, and I now felt rather unprepared.

Because - maybe it was hitting me? In the way my abdomen pulsed with a faint anxious nausea, how my intestines silently gurgled and my leg bounced and I wondered if a wand I just barely knew how to use, and a sword I was clearly telling myself I was more confident in than I was, would be enough to convince someone who – despite having not arrived yet – was about to risk his life for a kingdom he’d spent years dreaming of reclaiming. And knowing these folks sat around me, who have had swords and axes and bows in their hands since the day they could stand on their own two feet, made me wonder if the eventual moment I was forced to draw my own, I would hesitate out of fear of my own humiliation; at my clear lack of knowledge and skill. By that point I would be turning on my heel and vanishing back to the Shire or hoping the ground would swallow me up, or the sky would suck me back into the abyss the same way I had arrived in this world.

‘Axe or sword?’ He would say.

And in the grand scheme of things? Neither.

But hey, here’s a stick that sparks sometimes.

God almighty, why now of all times to wonder, what was all this for?

Because it’s a guarantee that you can trust me to only ask that question right when the first catalyst event had taken place. Sure, there could be lives to save, stories to alter, if fate blesses us with such. But what about after? What purpose would we have in this world knowing everything else we know and love exist a dimension away and out of reach? Who knows how the near future will unfold, whether happiness be a fleeting concept that we chase across time if we succeed, only for reality to hit and there really is no way back home? As much as everything will try to convince me to live the rest of my mortal years here, what are the chances if a portal or something opened the possibility of a way home, and I realise I’ve got too many things left unsaid to turn my back and say I’m staying. But the only thing tethering me down to such a fate is family. I keep my friends close, for sure, but I have enjoyed my own little social circle enough to know that vanishing off to another land wouldn’t churn up big waves in that many lives. It is not a melancholy thought – I’ve never been one for wasting time with people on a surface level, we either click or we don’t and I simply move on. But once the danger has passed, I’d want my mum here. And my dad. My younger brother, and sister, and my dog. Maybe Evie and Nell. And if that was as possible as it sounds, modern Earth would never hear from me again.

But I must remind myself, that is for future me. Because right now I had more pressing matters on hand.

--

To start with, Dwalin had been watching us since he walked through that door. And he still was, from what I could tell. Still murmuring to his brother as he had been throughout the night when he thought I wouldn’t notice out of the corner of my peripheral. And I wondered how long it would be until he started to speak up to demand questions about why we were here. Because if I recalled our first interaction with him at the door, Gandalf had failed to mention the two additional people currently living at Bag End. And the fact that they were far from being hobbits.

The miniature pork pie I had pointedly chowed down on a minute earlier had done very little to quash the current conversation I was debating on whether to escape from. Despite being such a popular character, even the extended screen time had done very little to properly flesh out Kíli for my own dissection. And even though that blessed me with the chance to actually get to know him organically, I had come to the first of many unfortunate conclusions that this dwarf sat next to me was an officially certified chatterbox.

“-Anyway, I mean, it’s snappy. I like short names. Easy to yell if they drop something on your foot – not that I would, you know, yell at you or anything. But it’s, uh, dependable? Like my uncle’s temper. You should see his face when I try to find a vantage point up in a tree or whatever cuz he says it’s not dwarvish behaviour to pretend you’re a bird on a branch.” He stopped his rambling for a simple half second to glance my face up and down before starting up again. “Are you sure you’re not an elf? I know Gandalf said otherwise but I really am convinced.”

I simply blinked, trying to comprehend the tsunami of words and jumping topics tumbling over my brain, whilst also trying not to breathe too hard considering Kíli had actually decided to lean in to the point I was forced to meet his eyes with my own, as if asking about my biological identity was some conspiracy he was determined to uncover to satisfy his racing mind. And I wondered if his brain worked in a similar way to my own.

“I… I’m sure?” I confirmed for the second time that night, amusement creeping up my face. I tried to fight the smile that threatened to spread at the sight of his dark eyes blinking up at me whilst a slab of cheese he had been chewing sat in his cheek like a chipmunk. “I think several things about me would need to change to make me an elf.” I quipped, folding my arms to lean them on the table.

“Not really.” Kíli countered rather swiftly with a shrug, his wide eyes still not leaving mine. “Just the ears. Everything else had me convinced otherwise.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re still on about the elf thing??”

The two of us were broke from our little bubble of conversation, and I was now very aware that, yes, there were still a number of people within the vicinity close enough to eavesdrop on each other’s conversations, including our own. Right now? The culprit of our little interruption was no other than his brother.

Fíli, across the table, was frowning incredulously at his sibling, stocky hand still grasped around his tankard, and a rather done-looking Kay sat beside him. Their conversation, I had no clue of, but it was clear Kay was moments away from ditching small talk central and dragging me out of there before another dwarf burped unceremoniously in her ear. I simply sighed and blinked tiredly in response.

“What?!” Kíli confronted defensively with a challenging forwn, partially throwing his hands up as he challenged Fíli and his interjection. “I know she’s not an elf now, I was just explaining why I thought she was one earlier.”

Fíli simply sat back in his seat with a sigh, and I struggled to prevent myself from staring at the rather morbidly fascinating sight that was his braided moustache, and I had a somewhat uncomfortable envision of having such heavy looking beads fastened upon the ends and regarded that I would have a relatively uncomfortable time turning my head. How on earth he lived comfortably with those without them leaving a stinging blemish on his cheek each time I am yet to imagine.

“Honestly, you’re worse than Uncle when it comes to this.” Fíli simply jibed with a tired look before breaking eye contact to reach for some food.

“I’m not worse!” Kíli protested. “It’s called paying attention.”

“You’re harassing one of the hosts.”

“Am not!”

“You are!”

“I – it’s okay! Honestly!” I interrupted, smile strained and raising my hand in some type of friendly dismissive wave as if I could ease the slight glaring match starting to form in front of me.

Things swiftly returned as they were before, Kay staring into space whilst Fíli talked her ear off, and Kíli returned to peer once again into my soul.

“Where did you say you were from again?” He inquired, and I felt the blood drain from my face ever so slightly.

Picking up my tankard, I spared him a glance. “…I didn’t.” I responded, taking a large sip of the bitter liquid within.

It seemed, however, for the millionth time, that fate insisted I prevailed with the luck of dodging conversational subjects that would result in some form of magical asphyxiation, and a voice called out from down the opposite end of the table where Bilbo was still pacing with his hands on his head in front of the pantry.

“Bombur! Catch!” Came Bofur’s voice. Then no less than a second later, a boiled egg soared through the air. Heads turned and voices lowered to a hush for no more than a moment before the white piece of food landed directly in Bombur’s awaiting gob, and a fresh wave of roars and cheers swept through the room.

The tabletop shook as Kíli’s fist thumped once onto the table in uncontrollable glee as he exclaimed in delight at Bofur. This simply kickstarted further chaos as the large red-haired dwarf next to me chewed messily on the egg, pieces of it tumbling down his beard whilst food was grabbed and either consumed hastily or chucked across the table at another unsuspecting dwarf, and what I could describe as nothing other than a food fight ensued, and I watched in slight entertainment as Kíli made a point to aim in poor Balin’s direction whenever the elder dwarf wasn’t looking.

Gandalf simply paid no mind to the flying debris of meat and dairy, simply concentrating on the task of passing a plate of tomatoes from one side to the other with what seemed to be a bit of breaded chicken held in his mouth. Bilbo, like earlier, was still pacing the atrium as if the borderline tornado that Kay and I were caught up in within the dining room simply wasn’t worth the risk of trying to put an end to, despite the clear mental aneurysm he was having. And I was glad he had turned to stand and stare at the pantry, sighing with exhausted but seething exasperation, as to not witness the rather ridiculous sight of Dwalin taking his tankard and grabbing Óin’s hearing trumpet whilst the dwarf still had it pressed to his ear.

“Say, you’ll have another drink? Here you go.” Dwalin exclaimed, a clear jesting edge lining his amused tone as he lifted and poured the rest of his drink into the open end as Oin took a bite out a pastry.

And once again laughter reverberated through the surrounding group as Oin jumped at the sensation of the liquid, whilst Dwalin slammed the tankard upside down on the table with a triumphant cackle, slamming both fists on the top multiple times with such a force I felt myself jolt as Oin took it in stride and blew the ale out of his trumpet. I shifted to avoid the spray where I could, thankful to not bare full witness to Kíli laughing with his mouth wide open and his food still being chewed within. All I could do was swipe away a droplet that had landed on my cheek, and send Kay a look of pure exasperation, and I was starting to really understand what was currently going through poor Bilbo’s head and why he looked moments away from a massacre.

What on Earth had we gotten ourselves into??

Or more likely, what on Earth had Gandalf swept us up into?

Everything had been expected, though all I could say was that watching this all unfold on a screen was far more comfortable than sitting in the middle of it and actually having to dodge food and drink that was inches from colliding with your face.

And, oh, it clearly wasn’t over, as Bofur’s voice piped up as he stood and leant over the table with his own tankard. “Hey, on the count of three!” He exclaimed, everyone else grabbing what goblets and tankards they had themselves as they raised and clanked them all together. “One, two-”

“Come!” Called out Kíli to everyone, quickly raising his drink in some form of toast whilst he nudged my arm in encouragement and pointed at my tankard before they all simultaneously tipped and began to chug. An almost blessed silence fell over the room for possibly the first time in three quarters of an hour. I simply sighed and took a big sip of my ale, lowering it down and choosing to stare, eyes unfocused, at the contents upon the table, counting the seconds until the rather neck-prickling noises of gulping and ale dripping onto the table and floor from around me ceased. Which it eventually did.

Nori was the first to release a fairly obnoxious and unceremonious belch, and a round of laughter bounced off and around Bilbo’s curved ceilings. A few more burps followed, until finally Ori, who had sat on the other side of his older brother, shot up out his chair, braced his hands on the table, and, I say it as if I hadn’t seen it coming the whole time, let out what was possibly the most cavernous, guttural – and I’ll use the sophisticated word to get my point across – eructation I have ever had the courtesy of hearing with my own two working ears. Five seconds it lasted, at least. And you may think that’s not many seconds but believe me it felt like longer. Because not even my brother, notorious for chugging his carbonated drinks, ever surpassed three.

It seemed, as well, that everyone else was just as entranced by the spectacle of the youngest dwarf in the group. Kíli’s mouth was almost hanging open as he stared in silence. And soon after, as expected, an additional round of howling laughter pierced my poor ears. Kay, on the other hand, had already vanished, halfway down the table shuffling herself behind the chairs whilst balancing a plate stacked with food, and I glanced down to find she had snuck away the plate I had already half-prepared for Bilbo. She had added more food, and used it as an excuse to escape the second round of the food fight that I knew was no further than a few moments away from commencing. And I couldn’t blame her one bit, considering minutes earlier she had clearly had enough of watching crumbs tumble from Fíli’s beard as he yammered on mid conversation.

I sat there for a moment longer, realised that I was being left behind, and swiftly pushed my own chair back, thankful that the chaos around me was loud enough to not draw eyes my way. A piece of ham flew past my nose and splatted onto the floor behind me, and I decided that tea simply wasn’t going to be enough and grabbed the tankard of ale still barely touched and began to make my way shuffling down the table.

Whether it was a sixth sense or simply coincidence, Kíli decided during that moment to turn his head round to my seat, only to notice I was no longer there, and promptly whipped his head round the other way, to find me stood behind Nori.

“Where’re you going??” He questioned with wide eyes and his brows creasing up together slightly at my attempt at slipping away.

I blinked at the sudden interest in my whereabouts and where-goings, and simply gestured a little over at Kay and Bilbo who were stood together in the atrium. “Oh, I just need to go see Bilbo.” I offered rigidly, thankfully getting the words out before I froze in awkwardness at the sudden questioning from someone I mistakenly assumed wouldn’t have noticed my absence until dinner was over. So, I quickly turned and kept side-stepping my way between the wall and numerous chairs, shoving down the slight guilt of leaving before letting the dwarf reply.

Finally reaching Kay, who was currently trying to encourage Bilbo to stop glaring at the empty pantry and to come eat the plate of food she had in her hand in the kitchen, I took this moment to breathe and roll my shoulders. Feeling my spine crack and pop, I let out a heavy sigh that relieved some of the tension coiling tight in my chest. Glancing at Kay, I placed my hand on Bilbo’s spine between his shoulder blades and leant down a little.

“Come on, Bilbo.” I insisted quietly, tiredness lining my tone just a little. “There’s no point trying to set the dwarves on fire through glaring alone, and you still haven’t eaten yet.”

Bilbo just raised his head to look up at me with a frown of protest and simply let out his own tired sigh before following Kay through the doorway to the kitchen.

Slumping into one of the chairs, Bilbo took the plate Kay slid across to him and reluctantly shoved a piece of raw carrot in his mouth. He dropped his forehead onto his palm, eyes darting here and there. The bone of his jaw shifted under the skin, muscle tensing as he ground his teeth around the vegetable. He sat back up again, eyes glaring into space over our shoulders, and I wondered how long it would take for him to explode.

“That wizard seems to know as much about the inside of my larders as I do myself! What the hell is he up to??”

Not long, it seems. And apparently, he had picked up some Earth words. Considering ‘hell’ was now colouring his vocabulary.

I simply clasped my hands together, slipping into the chair opposite with my head empty of any response, so I just sucked my lips in, bit down on them and looked at Kay, eyes a little wide and uncertain. She caught my look as she sat down herself, and sighed a little, whether it was exhaustion or exasperation at the dwavres, or both, I wasn’t sure.

“I’m sure Gandalf has his reasons.” Kay offered calmly. “He did say when he first arrived that he had plans to find someone for an adventure. Whatever that is, there’s definitely got to be an explanation as to why he came here, to you.”

Of course, we knew exactly what lay ahead for the hobbit. And - if things don’t go south tonight - for us as well. I began to notice how much worse my stomach was beginning to churn and wondered whether I would last the evening without being knelt over the toilet regurgitating the food I had chewed rather aggressively to avoid conversation with certain dwarves earlier.

Bilbo just huffed, sticking another piece of food in his mouth and chewing it, face tense and brows furrowed to the point where it looked as if his resting face was a constant, perpetual deadpan glare as he darted his eyes over the table in muted annoyance.

Fortunately, the restless silence that had fallen between the three of us was broken by scraping chairs, the vibration humming through the floor whilst the deep echo of multiple sets of chair legs being pushed back echoed off the walls. Though the chatter was still yet to taper off. In fact, it was getting closer, as a few dwarves passed the kitchen archway, oblivious to our presence as they spoke amongst each other.

Bilbo, alternatively, decided that the remaining half of his dinner was much less important than the sudden shift in activity going on in his home, and he was up and through the archway before either of us could blink. So, we quickly made haste to follow.

The dwarves, it seemed, were finally moving to finish dinner and tidy up, and by the moment I was ducking out the kitchen, two dwarves – notably Bifur and Bofur – had vanished past me and had commandeered the sink.

By the time I had leant down to peek into the dining room, almost half the plates and bowls had been stacked on the long table, Bombur reaching for plate after plate, swiping off the leftovers and munch up what was salvageable enough to eat.

Reaching out and whisking up a handful of plates that were clear of major chunks of food, I carried them through to the kitchen, eager to keep myself busy to prevent the guilt of hanging about awkwardly until told what to do. Nori was behind me, and I noticed him swipe something white and fabric from a shelf. He began stuffing it inside the turquoise glazed ceramic goblet he had been drinking from previously, twisting it absentmindedly to ensure it was cleaned as he trailed after me towards the kitchen.

I was far too aware of what hobbit-led crash out was about to occur, and I wondered if it was something Kay and I truly wanted to witness.

…Speaking of Kay.

I peeked out the doorway and looked down the hallway to my left. Nothing but Kíli traipsing past towards the dining room, glancing at me with a small smile before Bofur clapped his arm around Kíli’s shoulder and merrily ushered him along. I looked down the hallway to my right. Nothing again?! Of all the times I needed my friend to materialise next to me it had to be any time except now.

My brain told me to go right. “Kay?” I hissed as soon as I reached a quieter area near the entrance hall. I quietly padded to the end of the house, checking her bedroom – nothing again. My next best bet was to turn back and take a right into the smoking room, taking a hold of the handle and pulling the door open before stepping through. I scanned the dim room, scrunching my nose at the lingering smell of pipe weed and the faint trail of Kay’s perfume, so I knew I was on the right track. And oh, would you look at that. There’s her skirt and –

“…Why is your head up a chimney?”

Kay shrieked. Then swore when her shoulder collided with the stone mantlepiece amidst her scare. Ducking her head, she shuffled out to settle onto her knees, brushing herself off as she eyed me with a glare that died quickly as she huffed.

“There was a cat.” She grumbled.

“A cat?” I repeated, brows furrowing as I approached her. “I look away for five seconds and you’ve teleported hallway across the house looking for a cat?”

She gestured at the unlit fireplace. “I saw it in here when I walked past and it ran and crawled up the chimney when I tried to approach it. Thought it was gonna get itself stuck or something.”

I just looked at her, then at the chimney. Then decided to do exactly what I was judging her for seconds ago and knelt to twist and have a peek up the stone tunnel that led up to the top of the hill. Nothing but pure pitch black and silence, which wasn’t a surprise considering it was currently late in the evening, but no sign of a scrambling cat.

I shuffled back out, giving the fireplace a once over. “What kind of cat?” I questioned lowly as to not be overheard, turning to look at Kay.

She met my eyes with her own calculating ones. “Ginger?” She suggested.

My shoulders sagged, though it was neither out of relief nor disappointment - more like a empty sense of calm. No black fur and green eyes this time. But my fingers were still drawn to the pale leather bracelet on my left wrist as I took another glance at the fireplace.

“I’ve been seeing a cat?” I confessed out of the blue, though it was more an observation than a confession.

Kay’s brows furrowed and she side eyed me, silent for a moment. “…The way you phrased that might need a rethinking.”

I blinked. Then my eyes narrowed into a withering stare. “Your life needs rethinking if that’s how quickly your brain ends up in the gutter.” I retorted, half-heartedly chucking a wash rag from my skirt pocket at her. “What I meant was the night I found my wand? Earlier that evening I was sat down in the forest, and a black cat came out and stole Grandad’s bracelet right from my pocket.” I explained, and Kay took an unconscious glance at the pale braided leather clasped around my wrist. “Then it disappeared down that big rabbit hole I fell into, and I woke up, found the bracelet and the wand, and never saw it again until three days ago when I ran after Griffo.”

Kay nodded along in acknowledgement but soon frowned once she processed my last sentence. “Are you sure it’s not just… some cat?”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. “It could be. But why and how would ‘some cat’ steal my bracelet from the inner pocket of my coat and run down the rabbit hole I would end up nearly being eaten by some ghost thing with wings and find my wand? Like – it must mean something.” I persuaded. “Also, the way it looked at me a few days ago then disappeared the second I got distracted did not vibe with me”

“Nothing vibes with you if it looks at you wrong.” Kay remarked. “Though it is weird that it was the reason you ended up in the rabbit hole in the first place.”

“Exactly.” I persisted. “And I don’t know if it’s just coincidence but that other cat showing up just now really isn’t convincing me that it means nothing.”

Kay slowly pushed herself to her feet, tossing my wash rag back at me and brushing off her skirt as I followed suit. “Considering the crap that’s already happened I’d be surprised if it really was just coincidence.” She huffed. “But we should go back through. Last thing I want is to deal with is finding Bilbo with a bunch of headless dwarves because he’s decided he’s had enough.”

I agreed, pocketing the wash rag and choosing to shove the cat problem to the back of my mind for now whilst we went and blended back into the big clean up like we never left. Though I made a mental reminder to bring it back up once things had calmed down.

Finally dipping back inside the kitchen, noticing that Dwalin and Óin were now in there as well, I picked up and handed some plates into Óin’s awaiting hands, who regarded me with a small, polite smile and a hum as he turned to add it to the growing pile the Bifur was determinedly scrubbing at in the sink. I turned to see Nori step through with what I now recognised as a doily in his left hand whilst he checked inside the goblet with his other, only for Bilbo to quite literally materialise over his shoulder in the doorway, arm raised and outstretched to snatch the white doily from the dwarf’s hand.

“Excuse me, that is a doily, not a dishcloth!” Bilbo exclaimed to an unbothered Nori, shaking out the piece of fabric to check it as he passed Bofur. Said dwarf was leaning comfortably against the wall next to the fireplace mantlepiece, nursing a tankard of ale as he watched the hobbit storm about.

“But it’s full of holes?” Bofur pointed out with a questioning frown.

“It’s supposed to look like that, it’s crochet.” Bilbo confirmed with a pointed look, folding up the doily as he tried his hardest to tune out the behatted dwarf as he carried on.

“Oh, and a wonderful game it is too. If you’ve got the balls for it.” Replied Bofur brightly, and I watched in real time as the last light of hope drained from Bilbo’s eyes as he let out an audible groaning sigh and stormed over to a shelf, slapping the folded doily onto the surface.

“Bebother and confusticate these dwarves!!” He exclaimed to himself, fists clenched as he strained each word. Taking a breath, he rubbed his hand against his forehead, failing to spot the wizard ducking through the doorway to his left.

“My dear Bilbo, what on Earth is the matter?” Gandalf questioned with a concerned furrow of his brow.

Bilbo turned to him. “W-what’s the matter?” He repeated with an air of incredulousness as he followed the wizard to the table. “I’m surrounded. By dwarves. What are they doing here?” He demanded, gesturing to Nori and Bofur, the latter having reached out and snatched at the string of sausages strung over Nori’s shoulder, the two dwarves now in a playful tug-of-war as they grunted and fought over the meat. I managed to lift the plates that had been passed into my hands by God-knows-who just in time to dodge them as Bofur pulled a stumbling Nori close to the doorway I was hovering in.

Gandalf was seemingly nothing but amused by this. “Oh, they’re quite a merry gathering!” He replied fondly, placing the empty ale mug down onto the table as he joined in watching the two short creatures squabble and tumble. “Once you get used to them.”

Bilbo simply placed a hand against where he could reach up to Gandalf’s back as he led the wizard towards the other door that led to the hallway. “I don’t want to get used to them.” Bilbo hissed. “Look at the state of my kitchen!” He glared with an almost-stomp of his foot, and I made sure to simply slink past and hand over the plates in my hands, before slipping though the other doorway to the dining room, keeping an ear out to listen.

“Oh! Watch yourself!” Came a light-hearted voice.

I jumped slightly, jerking my hands up a little out of instinct before I accidentally knocked into something. Turning to my left, my eyes landed on Kíli, who seemed inches away from colliding into me. ‘God when was I going to stop being startled by him?’ I thought to myself. He stepped back, creating a polite distance between us as he regarded me with an easy-going smile. He had his pipe in his left hand, clearly enjoying a leisurely moment to himself as he helped with the clear up that was still going on around us.

He had also apparently decided that now was a great time for some more small talk. “So, tell me, how long have you been living with Mr Boggins?” He asked, reaching for something to pick up.

My mouth opened a little and just like that my brain went completely blank. “I – oh, uh…” I frowned, one hand reaching up to worry at my lip. “Since, uh… September before last, so –um-” I mumbled to myself. I turned my head to the side as if the answer was waiting for me there, my eyes focusing on nothing as I tried to break through the brain fog that always swamped my brain whenever someone asked me a question. Though eventually I came to something. “For like-?” I gestured my hand a little with my face twisted in mild confusion and finally managed to look at him. “– just over a year and a half?” I answered, though it was more like I was questioning my own maths capabilities. Which, to be fair, I always was.

Kíli blinked. “Really?” He questioned. “That’s longer than I assumed.”

I partly waved it off, like it was no big deal, and busied myself with taking a couple handfuls of tankards from the table. “Like Gandalf said earlier, it’s not been super easy… you know, trying to find a way to get back home,” I tried to explain as vaguely as I could whilst I walked into the kitchen with him in tow. “- but it’s not something I really try and think about that much.”

He placed the crockery on the table then turned to look back up at me with what I deemed was curiosity laced with slight concern. “Do you truly not think about it?” He pondered, eyes darting over my face. “If I was stuck far from home, finding a way back would be all I could think about.”

Placing the tankards in my hands down on the table in the kitchen, I looked down at my fingers, picking under the nails. “Yea, well –” I chewed my lip. “It’s not exactly good for me to worry about home when I don’t know if it’s something I can reach anymore.” I replied rather bluntly, voice a bit strained as I took a glance at him then became rather interested in a chip in the stone flooring. “But... yea,” I rambled stiffly, and I was probably digging myself into a deeper hole continuing on. “I do better to focus on what’s in front of me, I guess.” I gave him a small smile that felt more awkward than polite, and my ears perked up at the sound of Bilbo down the hall. “Like trying to stop hobbits from committing mass genocide.” I mumbled to myself before stepping around the dwarf to go find a very unhappy Bilbo. Though it was more an attempt to avoid the direction this conversation was going before I said something wrong and my throat decided to choke itself out.

And this was definitely a well-deserved distraction considering the tirade Bilbo was currently on. “– there’s mud trod on the carpet,” He ranted, pointing at the rug before storming through that way. “T-th-they’ve pillaged the pantry!” He pointed down the walkway at the empty husk that was now his pantry and then stormed towards it. “I’m not even gonna tell you what they’ve done in the bathroom, they’ve all but destroyed the plumbing! I don’t understand what they’re doing in my house!”

Gandalf simply leaned a hand against one of the curved ceiling beams with a hand on his hip, and I leant against the wall on the opposite wall as we watched the hobbit have a mild fit in the middle of the atrium as he spoke at the speed of Eminem. All I could do was give Gandalf a helpless shrug when he glanced my way.

“Excuse me?” Came a polite voice, and Ori appeared from the dining room with a plate in his hand as he approached Bilbo who was too busy glaring back and huffing about with his hands on his hips to bother answering. “I’m sorry to interrupt. But what should I do with my plate?”

Bilbo had no time or chance to answer, however, when another, more confident voice joined from the pantry.

“Here you go, Ori, give it to me.” Said Fíli, sauntering into view and taking the plate from Ori’s hand. He didn’t even wait a second to raise it above his head, and the look on Bilbo’s face shifted rather swiftly from irritable to the jaw-dropped bewilderment of someone who was about to witness possibly the most outrageous thing to occur in his home since he walked in on Kay levitating in the middle of the kitchen.

Gandalf seemed to predict rather quickly about what was about to happen and let out an ‘oop!’ and an ‘oh!’ as he swivelled to join me against the wall. He was lucky he did, as my own predictions kept me out of the way of the plate being flung in our direction. At the same time, Kíli had casually walked in from the kitchen with his pipe absentmindedly between his lips, eyes flickering over at me before his attention was stolen by flying dishware. The plate that was flung at him made my eyes twitched involuntarily, as if my subconsciousness had expected him to miss and get hit in the face. Though all that anxious instinct flew out the window as his hand shot out and caught the plate mid-air. Because of course he would do that. Because it’s not like I had already seen it happen fifty times over.

I mean, it was expected, but can you blame me? Why couldn’t I catch a flying dirty plate that easily? Not that I was about to start trying, that is, lest I deal with the gross aftermath of someone else’s dinner remains on my hands.

Kíli spun on his heel, twisting to swing the plate behind him and chuck it through the archway to the kitchen and swivelling back to catch and chuck another. Whether he was a natural or just straight up showing off to some degree, I wasn’t sure. I could just make out the side of Bifur through the doorway as he caught both plates without even bothering to turn away from the sink. Wow. Ok. So, everyone was good at catching now aside from me and my once in a blue moon capability?

The shring! of scraping cutlery and low clattering of dinnerware being stacked resonated through as they were tossed and flung around filled the hallway and adjacent rooms. The dwarves had finally begun their mischievous shenanigan of stressing out poor Bilbo by utilising the most functionally unhinged, but equally effective, solution for cleaning up their mess before they were deemed unsavoury house guests.

The noise and racket were layered with Bilbo’s exclaims of outrage at the sight of his belongings being tossed about so casually. “Excuse me!” He cried, arm reached out as if he could magically summon his crockery to his own hand like Mjölnir to Thor, yet made no movement to stop what was happening. “That’s my mother’s Westfarthing pottery, it’s over a hundred years old!!”

Not even Gandalf was bothering to listen, to busy moving from one side to the other and ducking as a bowl arced over his head, and I made my decision to shuffle down towards the pantry in the hopes I didn’t accidentally find myself in the crossfire, as this would have been far more painful than the food fight earlier.

As a result, I bumped shoulders with Kay as she rounded the corner to have a peek at what was happening, and we both pointedly glanced at each other.

“If they start singing I’m actually gonna turn evil.” Kay muttered.

I grinned, distracted from the borderline circus going on in front of us. “When my eyes turn red, run ~.”

“Ok, first of all, that’s not what I fuckin’ meant and you know it – STOP PRETENDING TO CLENCH YOUR FIST LIKE A VILLIAN, I WILL SPREAD RUMOURS ABOUT YOU.” Kay hissed under her breath, slapping my hand down.

“Booo, you’re no fun.” I snickered back with a fish-eating grin on my face.

Bilbo’s strained voice then interrupted our bickering. “And… and, ca-can you not do that, you’ll blunt them!” He exclaimed sternly as he tried to reprimand some of the dwarves sat at the table who were busy knocking and scraping the cutlery together as the start of some slow drumming beat.

“Ooooh, d’you hear that, lads?” Bofur teased loudly. “He says we’ll blunt the knives!”

“No, please don’t.” I muttered under my breath as I braced for the theatrics about to come.

Then Kíli joined in. “Blunt the knives, bend the forks ~.”

“Kay, help me.”

Then Fíli continued it on. “Smash the bottles and burn the corks ~”

“Kay, you know I can’t deal with musicals back home I’m going to set something on FIRE –”

“I DON’T LIKE MUSICALS EITHER, WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO –”

Then they all joined in. “CHIP THE GLASSES AND CRACK THE PLAAAATES -”

“Genuinely fuck my life.”

“- THAT’S WHAT BILBO BAGGINS HATES!”

Everyone was everywhere doing God knows what; stamping on the floor, banging the cutlery on the table, flinging plates around and bouncing them off elbows like they were in a game of volleyball until they piled up in Ori’s arms by the dozen. Then the instruments were brought out. Where from? I hadn’t a clue.

“CUT THE CLOTH, TREAD ON THE FAT,”

“LEAVE THE BONES ON THE BEDROOM MAT,”

A pair of stray teacups came at us through air, and I let out a squawk as I rushed to catch one, and Kay miraculously snagged the other. Then my other hand flew out and snatched a small plate before it hit kay square in the forehead. I looked at her with wide eyes.

Oh, we were getting caught up in it now.

“POUR THE MILK ON THE PANTRY FLOOOOOR –”

Ori went stumbling past with a skittish look, desperately trying to balance about six plates, a dozen bowls and a tankard as he made his way into the kitchen. Bilbo walked past and froze in horror as he slowly turned, watching the dwarf impossibly balance at least half the crockery in his home. Dwalin butted a tankard off his head in Nori’s direction. Kíli had endearingly climbed and propped himself into a sitting position halfway up the doorway.

‘Endearingly?’ I thought to myself. ‘Why would I -? Nevermind, shut up.’

And besides, Fíli had decided to steal my attention by jumping into a forward roll into the kitchen, whilst I had begun to slip my way through the doorway that wasn’t occupied by Kíli and watched as he caught the plate his brother flung.

“SPLASH THE WINE ON EVERY DOOR.”

Now everything was officially being rolled, chucked, bounced, thrown, and hurled along in a line, dwarf by dwarf. Plates still piled with food scraps being passed to Bombur who scraped it off with an almost sleepy contentment one could only have whilst on the brink of a food coma. Then off everything went to Bifur at the sink, catching every plate and bowl and scrubbing it spotless in record time – only turning instinctively at one point to catch a sharp, two-pronged meat carving fork that was flung at him by Kíli, the younger dwarf clearly confident enough in Bifur to catch it in time.

“DUMP THE CROOKS IN A BOILING BOWL-”

“POUND THEM UP WITH A THUMPING POLE-”

Obviously, despite the innate fear in Bilbo’s eyes as he watched everything sail over his head, including the teacups we had handed to Nori who simply chucked them at Bifur like everything else, nothing the dwarves sung about was done to any of Bilbo’s belongings. Though, that didn’t stop the hobbit from acting like they were.

“WHEN YOU’RE FINISHED, IF THEY ARE WHOOOOOOOLLEEE ~”

“SEND THEM DOWN THE HALL TO ROLL!”

Christ, the whole thing was almost overwhelming as I tried not to get hit by any soaring pottery. Balin looked the most tired of us all, sitting at the other end of the table and using a plate to fling other rolling plates boredly over his shoulder for Fíli to catch and chuck at Kíli. Bofur was cheerfully playing his clarinet; Óin was attempting to play a tune through the spout of a teapot; Dori was slamming his hands on the edges of plates causing them to go flying and bouncing of Bofur’s elbows; Gandalf was chucking warmly to himself as a bowl catapulted though his smoke ring; Kay was practically pressed against the wall ever since a knife soared past far too close to her ear; and I was busy almost going in circles trying to keep up with the visual mess going on around me. I looked at the kitchen table, seeing a few small stacks of clean dishes piling up, then took a moment to step into the Dining Room again, only for Bilbo to shove past me, finally done with it all.

“THAT’S WHAT BILBO BAGGINS HATES!!”

Following him back into the kitchen, my face slackened in awe at the sight of every single piece of dishware and cutlery that had been piled up onto the kitchen table within the few moments I had stepped out, each one polished and dried as the dwarves all around howled and chortled with laughter. I knew Bilbo’s expression would be fair more expressive than mine from where he stood in front of me, the hobbit clearly frozen in astonishment at the same sight of everything being spotless and very much not smashed to bits. The dwarves certainly found Bilbo’s reaction funny, cackling and guffawing and roaring with glee as they clacked fresh tankards of beer together in celebration of pulling off such a feat. I almost caught myself fighting a smile as a I huffed in amusement.

Gandalf, at the other end of the table, was merely gesturing at Bilbo with an ‘I told you so’ shrug of his shoulders, before lowering himself down into his seat and sticking his pipe in his mouth.

“Look at his face!” Came Kíli’s voice from next to Bifur, the young dwarf breathless with laughter as he found the situation seemingly far more hilarious.

Though, unfortunately for all of us, the light-heartedness of the evening came to a screeching abrupt halt as the BOOM of three slow, thumping knocks on the door silenced the entire gathering within seconds.

Everyone slowly turned towards the parlour that led to the entrance hall, smiles fading and pipes and tankards lowering as a solemn atmosphere settled over the group. I felt my gut twist with an unpleasant feeling, anxiety starting to rise within me as I realised I was completely unprepared for what was about to happen next, and wondered if I could hide until someone came and dragged me out by the ankle to face the one thing that had left me feeling nauseous for the last three days.

Gandalf’s eyes slowly dragged over the group, still as a mouse as his eyes held a dissociative and, dare I say, uneasy edge to his unfocused gaze as he addressed the silence.

“He is here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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