Rue (A Thorin Oakenshield/Hobbit Fanfiction)

19

Bilbo awoke to the smell of cinnamon cakes, his stomach growling with temptation. The hobbit swung his feet over the bed and stretched lightly, smiling to himself at his awaiting treat. It was only when he stood that he remembered the commotion of the night before, the ridiculous amount of dwarves sleeping in his living room, and his utter shock regarding the quest itself. He was a hobbit of the Shire, after all; he simply wasn't suited for adventure. Then, he realized that aside from his temporary guests, he lived alone. Who was making cinnamon cakes in his kitchen?

The hobbit wandered through the halls of his home, nearly tripping over a few sleeping dwarves as he followed the scent. He doubted that any of them had gotten up at such an hour, for it was much before dawn. The only dwarf that seemed to be capable of that was Thorin, and Bilbo didn't think of him as much of a baker.

A woman stood with her back to him, bustling about the kitchen as she sprinkled cinnamon on dough. Her hair was long, hanging at her waist, and swept about her person as she moved. Bilbo watched her green eyes as she focused on the cakes, putting them back on the heat. Suddenly, the lass turned towards him, making the hobbit jump, although he had seen her first.

"Good morning, Master Baggins." She smiled, remembering her manners. "Talia Rue Ashenstone, at your service." She said, bowing slightly to him.

"Bilbo Baggins, at yours." He replied, almost reflexively.

"I'm sorry, I really should've asked before using your kitchen." Talia began, becoming bashful and offering him an apologetic glance. "It's just that it's been so long since I've baked, and I couldn't resist."

"Oh, no, no! Don't worry yourself! I'll never object to cinnamon cakes." Bilbo said, surprising Talia with his kindness. If he had been a dwarf, she would've been killed by his glare by now.

Talia grinned, nodding her thanks and returning to her pastries. "You are a hobbit, well versed in the likes of desserts. I hope that you'll enjoy my spin on them."

"Did you make these for me?" Bilbo asked, pointing to the object in question. He scowled at himself for saying such a thing afterwards; he was becoming flustered from being around such a beautiful woman. Moreover, she was one without enormous hairy feet, so he was on his best behavior.

But to the hobbit's shock, Talia nodded with a soft smile on her lips. "As a thank you for hosting us, for I highly doubt any of them offered their gratitude."

"You are part of the Company?"

"Oh, yes. Married to Thorin, though that is not how my place is defined." She replied, holding up her hand with her wedding ring. "I know they are gruff and rude and far from easy to handle, but I love them dearly. Once you get to know them, they'll be like family to you, too."

"Oh, but I won't be."

"No?"

Bilbo sighed, sitting down at the stool and leaning on the counter where Talia was working. "I'm not much of an adventurous type, I'm afraid. You hadn't arrived yet, but last night, I fainted as soon as I heard of the heat of dragon fire. The Took in me has long faded, gone with my youth."

Talia pursed her lips at his words. It was not her place to sway him if his mind was made up, though she was sure Gandalf wanted her to pry a little bit. She laughed softly, shaking her head and deciding to move their conversation along. "You are still young, Master Baggins."

"Fifty is far from childhood, Miss Talia Rue."

She waved his politeness off. "Please, no 'Miss'. I do not require such formalities from a friend." Talia smiled down at him, returning to checking on the cakes. "How old do you think I am?"