A Thorn In My Side

Contracts

Gandalf answered my door before I had the chance. Pushing past the dwarves who blocked the doorway (had they no manners?), I could hear a deep voice. It was rich, almost like the earth.

"Gandalf," the voice said. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice." I could hear him walking in, and the door closing. "Wouldn't have found it at all if it weren't for that mark on the door."

I finally managed to shove past the dwarves and into the front hall. "There is no mark on that door, I had it painted a-" my voice came to a halt when I laid eyes on him.

The dwarf before me had hair as dark as the night, and eyes that matched sapphires. The white that streaked his hair looked like the moon light that floods my room at night. His proud face was covered in a short beard.

"-week ago." I finished.

The dwarfs shocking eyes looked me over, sizing me up, and taking me in. I tried not to squirm under his gaze. I could feel my face heat up slightly as he gave me his full attention. He looked like a wolf the way he circled me, silently, gracefully, deadly. My heart pounded painfully as I stood there.

"Bilbo Baggins, meet the leader of our company, Thorin Oakensheild." Gandalf said.

I fiddled with my hands, not knowing what to do. So, I did what hobbits do best. "Can I get you something to eat?" My voice came out more a squeak than anything.

He raised an amused eyebrow, but gave me a curt nod. I scurried away from him and the rest into the safety of the kitchen. Placing a hand over my thumping heart, I opened a few cupboards where I kept extra food. Soon the kitchen was filled with the aroma of beef stew. As the pot simmered, I sipped on my now cold tea while I sliced bread and filled a flagon of ale. Everyone had gathered at my table, I noticed when I placed the flagon on the table for the striking dwarf before disappearing again.

Somehow I knew I would not be mixing his name with the others, he was too proud, too strong, to be mistaken as another. No, his name, Thorin, reflected that. Grabbing a bowl and plate, I pored the strew, put the bread on the plate, and carried it out to the dwarf, to Thorin. He accepted it without so much as a nod towards me, and dug in. Not sure what to do with myself, (and in my own home no less!) I decide to put away the dishes the dwarves cleaned.

As they had used nearly every dish I owned, and I was shorter than the average hobbit, it was no easy task putting them away. The others talked loudly, but it seemed less cheerful. It was almost like Thorin had a sobering affect on them in the same way he made me unsure of myself. When I had everything put away, I walked back into the hall.

The company grew silent when I stepped in. "Can I get anyone more ale? Perhaps coffee or a cup of tea?"

Most settled for ale, but Dori asked for tea. I glanced into Thorin's flagon- for he had remained silent- and saw it nearly empty. Swiping it from its place next to him, I filled it along with several others, and hauled them to the waiting dwarves. When everyone had what they wanted, I turned (almost reluctantly) to Thorin. His bowl was cleared of its content, and he was watching me with those powerful eyes.

"Can I get you more stew, master dwarf?" I asked as calmly as I could.

"Yes. When you have, join us. We have a great many things to discuss." He before drinking deeply.

Picking up the bowl, refilling it, placing it back where it needed to be, I sat across from Gandalf and next to Bofur. I was at Thorin's right hand side.

There was silence as all eyes fell on me. "What's your weapon of choice. An ax or a sword?" Those sharp eyes bore into mine.

"I-I don't see how that's relevant." I picked at my hands under the table.

He smirked. "Looks more like a grocer than a bugler to me." He announced to the table. They laughed.

"Hobbits have no need of them!" I huffed, embarrassment plain on my now red face.

He turned back to me with an eyebrow raised. "What of when the wolves come? Will you still have no need of them when your seconds away from death?"

"No, I have wit. I'm light on my feet, small and therefore hard to find unless I wish to be." I defended angrily. "I feel no need to swing a sword at anything I do not agree with."

His dark eyes grew hard. "The wild is no place for gentle folk."

My cheeks heated up. "I am not gentle!" I protested strongly.

He smirked at me. "'Can I get you something to eat?'" He mocked.

"We hobbits enjoy the comforts of home, I had assumed that even you would as well." I threw back. "I was asked to be the burglar for this quest, and I intend to be."

He let out a dark laugh. "Have you ever stolen anything?"

"No-"

"Fought in a battle?"

"No, but-"

"Have you ever even riden a horse?"

"I walk-"

He let out another deep laugh. "Your not what we need. A hobbit like you could never last out there."

I clenched my jaw, but before I could retort Gandalf stood. "Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, than a burglar he is. Thorin you asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Bilbo."

Thorin looked up at Gandalf with cold disapproval. "Very well. We will do it your way. Give him the contract."

Balin stood, pulling folded parchment from his pocket. "It's just the usual." He said handing it to me. "Summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth."

"Funeral arrangements?" I looked at Gandalf.

"My dear Bilbo, you can't expect this to be risk free, it's a quest my dear boy." He said.

"Er, right."

I stood and reached for my quill and ink. I paused for a second. May as well be clever. I would be a fool to hope they wouldn't notice I'm a girl the whole time I'm with them. When I signed as Bilbo Baggins, I used an old trick my father taught to me. If you we're to hold a mirror on the name, the reflected half would change it from Bilbo, to Bella. I handed it back to Balin. He inspected it for a moment.

"Seems everything's in order. Welcome to the company Mr. Baggins." He said.

We moved onto discussing the quest. "Oin has read the portents, and the portents say its time."

Oin nodded in agreement, chest puffed with pride. "Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold. 'When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end.'"

My head turned sharply towards him. "Uh, what beast?"

Bofur answered as he huffed on his pipe. "Well that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible. Chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Air born fire breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks. Extremely fond of precious metals."

"Yes, I know what a dragon is." I said faintly. I should have read the contract. "And what does a dragon have to do with this?"

"That my dear, is where you come in. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage."

"That's why we need a burglar." Ori chimed in.

"You want me to steal from- from a dragon." I stated.

"Shouldn't be a problem for you, now should it Mr. Baggins?" Thorin asked.

In the moment I grew furious. "Whats one dragon." I challenged.