From the beginning, I suppose

Chapter 4

"Incineration." Bilbo mused to himself, though in a very different manner than the first time.

"Oh aye. He'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye." Bofur quipped around his pipe from his seat at the table. A thought occurred to Bilbo. He never knew how the company had reacted to his fainting the first time, nor how he had woken up in his favorite armchair next to a newly kindled hearth. Perhaps an experiment was in order. The hobbit smothered the conspiratorial smirk with an inconspicuous sneeze.

"Flash of light, searing pain, then poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash!" Still in that devilishly cheerful tone.

No wonder I fainted the first time. Bilbo smothered a chuckle with another sneeze, this time earning himself a knowingly amused glance from Fíli. That dwarf is far too intuitive for his own good. The hobbit thought in amusement as he prepared himself for his theatrical "experiment".

"Ah... I-- Nope." Bilbo let his eyes roll back in his head and promptly collapsed, mind still wide awake. Am I being that convincing? He thought as Kíli shouted in alarm for someone to help "Master Boggins". A pair of strong arms slipped under his arms and knees, lifting the hobbit easily. As the one holding him stood, Bilbo barely cracked an eye open, and found himself struggling to withhold a gasp of surprise.

The long hair tickling his cheek was Thorin's. Thorin Oakenshield, king under the mountain and stoic leader of the rambunctious company that had invaded his smial, had knelt to pick up this sassy halfling who had snapped at him as he walked in the door and fainted (well, pretended to) at the mere thought of a dragon, and then proceeded to carry him to a comfortable chair and stoke the dying embers of the hearth back up to a blazing fire.

What in Yavanna's name? The dwarf continued to surprise Bilbo as the night continued, and he had only been here maybe twenty minutes. Bilbo stayed in his faux-faint for another minute or two before opening his eyes and giving a small shout for effect. Kíli immediately appeared at his elbow, hovering next to him as he called Gandalf over.

"I'm fine, Kíli. I only need some tea and a moment of quiet. I must admit I wasn't quite prepared." Fíli, who was leaning against the doorframe, shot him a knowing look as he tried to reassure the younger of the princes.

"I'll fetch you that tea, master Boggins. Dori just brewed some up for himself and Balin. I'm sure they'll share." The dark-haired prince padded out of the room, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at his brother as the blonde smiled that quiet smile at him and gestured at the dining room with his pipe.

Bilbo heard muted conversation from the dining room and Kíli reappeared with a steaming mug of green tea and a plate of biscuits.

"Here you are." Kíli lingered next to the armchair.

"Lad, you can stop smothering me like a mother hen. I'm still coming. I've just never thought I may one day come face to face with a dragon that didn't only exist between the covers of a book. I was just a touch overwhelmed." Bilbo laid a reassuring hand on Kíli's shoulder, smiling when the prince's anxiously furrowed brow relaxed and he allowed a smile to stretch across his face.

"Oh thank Mahal. I was so worried you would turn us away after sounding so excited before." Kíli mumbled, glancing at his feet sheepishly.

"A good portion of the company agreed." Fíli interjected, blowing a smoke ring and letting the remaining smoke flow out of his nose smoothly.

"I believe I will be going to bed. I daresay that - having helped Bombur pack - you may be off early tomorrow." Bilbo drained the last of his tea and stood, padding out of sight. He stepped through the door, allowing the dwarves to him shut the door before he crept back out.

Ah, yes. The company had gathered in the sitting room, and had just started humming the opening measures of the song of the misty mountains. I love this part. Bilbo smiled softly as Thorin started to sing, his deep rolling voice like liquid velvet that flowed and rippled with each word and syllable.

Two measures after Thorin began singing, Bilbo added his voice to the company's, his lighter lilting tenor melding seamlessly with the chorus of rich basses and baritones that made his lungs vibrate. Fíli - who stood directly across the room from Bilbo - tore his gaze from the flickering hearth and locked eyes with the hobbit, the intensity froze him on the spot, even though the song continued to flow from his lips. Those deep hazel eyes were far too knowing for the dwarf's age. Bilbo stared back evenly as the song faded off, leaving Thorin and Bilbo the last ones singing. At this point, the entire company turned and saw the halfling, still paralyzed by Fíli's keen stare. The last notes rang through the air, and Thorin finally looked up, fixing the hobbit with a look as intense as his nephew's, if not moreso.

The silence stretched for what felt like an eternity, Bilbo having to force himself not to squirm under the combined scrutiny of thirteen dwarves and a wizard (who must have appeared some time during his staring contest with Fíli). He cleared his throat slightly self-consciously as Thorin's steel-blue eyes bored into Bilbo's bright hazel ones. "I have signed the contract, and it is sitting on the table. Wake me when you rise, if you please." He held Thorin's steady stare a moment longer, before bowing and padding off to his room to pack.