A Price To Pay- The Hobbit & LoTR

Chapter 3

The door opened, and warm light filled her vision, as did a short, stout figure. A curly-haired fellow -no taller than her mid-section- stood in front of her with his large feet covered in hair, dressed in a handsome evening robe. It was a Hobbit. And by the looks of his fine robe, good form, and handsome face, he was a well-mannered and respected Hobbit.

Raewynn couldn't help but notice the frown on his handsome face, frustration etched into his face around his eyes and brows. She puzzled, He knew they were coming, right?

The Hobbit gathered himself from his momentary stupor and quickly re-tied his robe, straightening his face into a well-practiced smile.

Before he could speak, Raewynn remembered her manners and bowed at the waist, "Raewynn, at your service."

The hobbit returned the bow, albeit uncertainly, "Bilbo Baggins, at, erm- yours."

Raewynn did not reply as she untied her cloak and pulled it off her shoulders. Her wavy blonde hair trickled over her shoulders, the warm light from inside catching her golden markings and hints of her leather and metal armor.

"I've heard good things about you, Master Baggins." She greeted with a gentle smile,
hoping to not rattle the hobbit any more than he seemed to be.

Bilbo opened his mouth to say something but snapped it closed when something crashed in his house, the sound of pottery shattering unmistakable.

Raewynn almost found it humorous when ire flashed across the proper Hobbit's eyes, but he kept to his manners. "Do come in, my Lady." He stepped back from the door, making room for her to enter.

She ducked into the Hobbit's home, and it was as if she stepped into a whole other world. Books of all genres were piled along the rounded hallway, some of the spines were falling apart from being passed down generations, their pages yellowed from age and old stains. Dozens of picture frames lined what little countertop space was available from the numerous potted ivies that trickled down walls and furniture.

She was snapped out of her wonder as she hit her head against some metal contraption- before hurriedly reaching up to steady the swinging chandelier. She smiled sheepishly down at the hobbit, whose attention seemed to be elsewhere.

Her attention was called back to said frustrated Hobbit as he shut the door behind her. She maneuvered herself against the wall, trying to be polite to their host and not get in his way.

The hobbit took a step away from her farther into the home, before stopping and turning back towards her with a rushed bow, "Please excuse me." And he turned around and rushed back towards, what Raewynn guessed, was the kitchen.

The little fellow muttered silent curses under his breath as he stomped. Raewynn's mouth turned upward, humor creeping into her system as she watched the tiny being march angrily about the home. Were all Hobbits this sassy? She should have befriended one before now.

Two other deep male voices carried through the home, as well as Bilbo's frustrated voice, "Please put that back!" the hobbit exclaimed. To whom, she didn't know.

Curiosity gripped Raewynn and she followed the path the Hobbit out of the entry room. She walked through another circular arch into a room with a fireplace and armchairs positioned around the room. There were even more books stacked in towers along the walls and furniture... honestly, she couldn't tell where the books ended and where the furniture began.

Her attention turned to two portraits hanging above the fireplace, a female and a male hobbit. Likely his parents. She looked closer at the mantle, where the shelf was kept spotless of dust and underneath the male's portrait an old Tobacco pipe of a generation since past lay carefully polished upon a velvet cushion. Next to the cushion, underneath the woman's portrait, were a bundle of shining silver crochet needles, no hint of rust or age upon them.