Homeward Bound Part One: An Unexpected Journey

Chapter Two

Bilba had fantasized about multiple scenarios concerning how the evening might go.

Not one of them involved a giant, tattooed Dwarf sitting at her table laying into the feast she'd spent all day preparing.

For FRAM. Not for, what's his name.

Speaking of that, what WAS his name again? Darlin? Draylin? Stupid-Jerk-Who-Was-Messing-Up-Her-Courtship?

No matter, WHATEVER his name was he most certainly should NOT be sitting at her table eating her food while she sat on a stool nearby and tried desperately to figure out how to get rid of him before Fram arrived.

She felt cold at the mere thought of it. What would Fram think if he showed up right that very second and saw a strange Dwarf in her house? What would her neighbors think? It was bad enough to be unchaperoned with another HOBBIT, let alone a random Dwarf.

For Fram she'd planned to leave the doors and windows open, maybe even suggest eating outside, for propriety. If things continued, not that she'd thought that far ahead of course, she'd ask Priscilla to chaperone them.

When Draw—whatever-his-name-was showed up she was so stunned she didn't react, not even when he'd stepped inside and closed the door behind him, not even when it occurred to her she'd never gotten around to opening the windows because she'd wanted to trap the delicious smells inside and now anyone might have seen him come and her reputation would BE ENTIRELY RUINED AND NEITHER FRAM NOR HER NEIGHBORS WOULD EVER SPEAK TO HER AGAIN!

With a squeak of horror she leapt to her feet, intent on fleeing from the home at once. She'd go and get the Rangers, or the Bounders. She'd insist this confounded DWARF broke in and she stumbled in and immediately fled in horror. She most definitely had not done anything idiotic, like allowing a strange male into her home and she most DEFINITELY had not stayed inside, ALONE, with him where, as Lobelia would no doubt cackle, anything could have happened.

She made it two feet before another knock sounded on the door, rooting her to the spot.

Bilba clasped her hands in front of her face, cold racing through her body.

Fram, it had to be Fram. She'd waited too long and now he was here and how in the world was she going to explain this?

The knocking sounded again and the stupid, idiot Dwarf whose sole purpose in life was to ruin EVERYTHING, raised an eyebrow at her.

"That'll be the door."

She hated him. She never hated anyone before so she wasn't entirely sure what it felt like but was pretty sure that was what she felt toward him at the minute. She wanted him to burst into flames and burn into a small pile of ash she could sweep under the rug where Fram wouldn't see him.

She had to bite her tongue, the pain clearing her head a split second before she unleashed some truly vile, uncivil, yet truly impressive in scope and breath, comments on him.

Curse her blasted manners!

She swallowed past the giant rock that seemed to have lodged in her throat, and stomped down the hall, so angry her feet actually made slight noises as they struck the ground.

When she reached the door she reached for the handle with a shaking hand, still with no idea of what she wanted to say, and flung it open, remembering only at the last second to try and smile.

"Fram! I'm so--"

Her voice trailed off.

It wasn't Fram at the door.

It was ANOTHER. BLOODY. DWARF.

He was older than the first one, and at least didn't look like a deranged serial killer (who, again, she'd oh, so intelligently ALLOWED INTO HER HOME). With his white hair and grandfatherly face she'd half expect to find him surrounded by a group of small children, reading them a story.