Once Upon A Contract

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 16: 𝕯𝖎𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖗 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕲𝖚𝖎𝖉𝖊 𝕱𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖘

When they finally did stop for the night, Bilbo flopped himself down onto the ground and decided he was never going to move again.

"You do know," Toymaker said cheekily as he practically skipped by to help his brother set up the cookfire, "if you rode, you wouldn't be feeling this sore."

"Oh no," Bilbo snapped, hardly daring to move from the rock he had perched himself on, "I know those demonic creatures and I would still be sore, just in different places!"

Twisted evil little creatures. Bilbo had no doubt that one day they'd wake up in the morning to find that their bedrolls had been torn to bits, their breakfast had been eaten, and their gear had been trampled. And what would these stone loving dwarrow do? They'd laugh and coo, and say what wonderful beings those awful, awful ponies were.

Bilbo was not at all impressed.

And speaking of being unimpressed, the conniving little In-Betweener had slipped back into the party just in time for dinner and had been shuffling around the set up the camp too quickly for Bilbo to spring up and catch him. He was just about ready to sic the faunts on him without warning.

It wasn't as if the faunts would be in danger from the wizard.

Probably.

Possibly.

Maybe that wasn't the best idea.

"That's an awful frown." Bombur exclaimed with a grin, his ladle flinging around by the strap on his wrist. "I don't suppose you want to help me with dinner."

Bilbo groaned, every inch of the skin on his feet aching and complaining, even as his calves twitched and cried out at the thought of moving. But, food. Supper. A hot meal. That had to be worth something.

Bilbo's mouth watered as the dwarrow pulled out a small bag from his pack, and with a flourish, revealed a satchel full of spices and herbs. Yavanna, he didn't need to taste them, let alone smell them, to know the Baker had brought out a wonderful stash.

"I should have had you go through my cupboard." Bilbo said mournfully as he calculated the time the journey will take to complete and the amount of spices in the Baker's hand.

The dwarrow smiled and lifted up another packet, this one larger and stuffed to the brim. "I did."

Bilbo can't help but laugh in delight. Goodness, he hasn't been this carefree in years . (He hasn't forgotten the twisted paths. He doesnt think he will ever be able to forget the paths, not with Arda seeping ill-intent like poison.) But, there is something to be said about perching beside Baker and helping him organize their stores, that flows through his body and snarls at the poison Arda had clawed into his skin.

Slowly, Bilbo let out a soft whistle as he looked over the sheer amount of food Baker managed to pull from one small pack. While in Bree the dwarrow had apparently stocked up on dried meats and basic staples that wouldn't spoil on the road. Bilbo wasn't sure why he was surprised, these dwarrow were used to being on the road and had packed accordingly. Still, he had seen Tooks less prepared.

(He even knew Harfoots that were less prepared, and that was saying something considering the Harfoots were well known for hidden pantries and an over abundance of supplies. During the Fell Winter, the Harfoots had seemed to be the only ones who had more than they knew what to do with.)

(The wolves got to them in the end, but even then the Harfppts had survived.)

As the cook fire was established in the middle of the camp, the other dwarrow scurried this way and that. Out of the corner of his eye, Bilbo thought he saw the twins scamper off into the foliage but he couldn't be too sure. However, he was certain that Dwalin and Golin had gone further away from the path then they had already camped, taking the ponies with them. Bilbo was not sad to see them go. The ponies, that is. Not the two dwarrow.