Once Upon A Contract

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 7: 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖍 𝕯𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖋 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝕸𝖆𝖉𝖊

Off the top of his head, Bilbo had been expecting at least a half dozen different scenarios of what he might find inside when he had heard the crash come from inside Bag End. In all honesty, he had imagined anything from Bofur having gone the way of Big Folk and attempting to physically manhandle everyone out of his door, to one of the faunts having accidentally murdered his prized cookie jar. The latter had happened before by the way of Hamfast's eldest and Bilbo was not looking forward to attempting to lecture dwarrow faunts about broken crockery.

However, in no way shape or form was Bilbo expecting to open his door and immediately have to duck Lobelia's wild swing of Bilbo's best frying pan. Considering that monster was only brought out when cooking for clan meetings, Bilbo was surprised to see Lobelia was able to hold it, let alone swing it upwards above her head at the average height of a dwarf. Thorin, who had been nearly trotting on Bilbo's heels and looking in the wrong direction, was not as lucky to duck the swing.

The frying pan connected with a solid crack and he went down like a sack of bricks.

"Lobelia!" Bilbo shouted as he dropped to his knees and frantically checked the pulse of the dwarf, breathing easier when he saw Thorin groan. "What are you doing?"

Lobelia had both arms extended, the frying pan shaking in her grip as she stood with her back against the wall. "Bilbo?" she whispered, her eyes wild enough Bilbo could see the whites, "Bilbo there are dwarrow in your house."

Abandoning Thorin on the floor now that he new the poor dwarf wasn't dead, Bilbo stood and gently tugged at the frying pan until Lobelia let go. Poor Lobelia was spooked and it was no wonder considering the week she had been having. "You did see them when you came in." Bilbo chided gently.

Placing the frying pan on top of one of the many boxes in the hall, Bilbo tried to give Lobelia a bit of time to collect her thoughts.

Lobelia huffed, her hands dropping to her skirts as she looked away. "I was rather distracted." She admitted softly, "and I am afraid that other than seeing someone at your door..."

"Let's get you to a guest room, shall we?" Bilbo offered, breaking into the awkward silence that was starting to well between them. "Primula might have been getting ahead of herself earlier, but she was not wrong. I can put you up for the evening at least. Although," Bilbo grimaced, wondering how badly he had annoyed the Valar lately, when every bit of bad luck seemed to be dodging his heels today, "the dwarrow are staying over as well."

Lobelia nodded from where she had slumped against the wall.

"I can go over to Hamfast and see if he can take you, if you would prefer." Bilbo offered gently. "Its no bother."

"No." Lobelia sniffed, her hands clenching in her skirts again. "I think I would like one of those guest rooms if you don't mind. Just..." she trailed off, her eyes daring nervously to the dining room.

For a moment, Bilbo didn't understand the issue and he began to puff up in indignation. Surely Lobelia wouldn't be so crass as to think that it would be unsafe for a hobbit to sleep under the same roof as a dwarf? Lobelia should know better than to assume that...

Bilbo's thoughts trailed off. Oh. The problem was simpler than that. There were going to be seventeen people under his roof before the night was out. Fifteen of which were male. One underage girl and a young pregnant woman who had lived under the threat of contract for five years, alongside fifteen men who both outnumbered and loomed over them without meaning too.

"Come along Lobelia, let's get you and Prim a plate from the kitchen and then settle you into the master bedroom for the night." Bilbo offered as he gently picked up the frying pan and pressed it into Lobelia's hand. It was better for her to at least feel like she had some protection while under his roof.