Rue (A Thorin Oakenshield/Hobbit Fanfiction)

18

Two Months Later

The hobbit sat down at his dining table, his back facing the cozy fire and his belly facing his awaiting meal. He smiled down at the dinner, grabbing just a pinch of salt and sautéing the meat as the doorbell rang ominously. The halfling looked up in surprise. Who could possibly be visiting at this hour? Although, he thought to himself as he rushed to the foyer, it has been an odd day, with a wizard visiting and all.

The hobbit opened the door, revealing a bald and rather gruff-looking dwarf. A dwarf! Why on earth was there a dwarf at his doorstep?

"Dwalin, at your service." He bowed slightly, revealing that the tattoos on his brow extended all the way around his head.

The hobbit shifted his weight, letting out a small grunt of confusion in his hesitation. "Bilbo Baggins, at yours... Do we know each other?"

"No." The dwarf said simply, shoving past Bilbo. "Which way, laddie? Is it down here?"

"I-Is what down where?"

"Supper." Dwalin stated, looking at the hobbit as if he'd grown two heads. "He said there'd be food, and lots of it."

"He... He said? Who said?" Bilbo asked, but his questions were lost as his supper caught Dwalin's eye. He had no choice but to follow the dwarf in the dining room and watch as he devoured the meal. Bilbo sat in the corner, his eyes widening as Dwalin bit the head off the fish, eating it whole.

The dwarf hummed in satisfaction. "Very good. Any more?"

"What? Oh, yes, yes." The hobbit said, snapping out of his trance regarding Dwalin's eating habits. He turned and grabbed a bowl full of biscuits from the tea tray, stealing one or two for himself when Dwalin wasn't looking. "Help yourself." He said, holding the bowl out as Dwalin accepted it gratefully. "It's just that, um, I wasn't expecting company."

But before Dwalin could elaborate, the doorbell sounded yet again, making them both look up. "That'll be the door."

Much to Bilbo's surprise, he opened it to greet yet another dwarf, though this one was much less intimidating than the first. His hair and beard were completely white, and his blue eyes twinkled in a charming way that Bilbo felt he could trust. "Balin, at your service."

"Good evening." Bilbo responded, still shocked at the entire situation.

"Yes. Yes, it is. Though I think it might rain later." Balin watched as the hobbit just stared at him, sighing inwardly to himself. It was clear that their wizard had not informed the poor lad of their meeting. "Am I late?" He asked, though he knew the hobbit would not know the answer.

"Late? Late for what?"

But Bilbo was forgotten as Balin entered the home, laughing upon catching sight of his brother. Dwalin looked up from forcing his meaty fingers further into the jar, giving up his attempts to fish out the last biscuit. "Evening, brother."

"By my beard..." Dwalin began, "You're shorter and wider than last we met."

"Wider, not shorter. Sharp enough for both of us." Balin said sternly, eyeing Dwalin with mischief in his eyes. Slowly, their grins spread, both of the dwarves knowing what greeting was to come. Then, they gripped each other's shoulders and cracked their skulls together. Bilbo jumped at the action, though they seemed unfazed. Then, the hobbit remembered his annoyance, deciding to speak up for himself like a true Baggins would.

"Excuse me? Sorry, I hate to interrupt. But the thing is, I'm not entirely sure you're in the right house."

"Have you eaten?" The elder dwarf continued his conversation with his brother, wandering through the halls like the hobbit hadn't spoken.