Quilted Together - The Hobbit Fanfiction

Chapter 4: A Terrible Host

Chapter 4: A Terrible Host

On the morning that Gandalf came to visit for the first time since Bilbo had been a small child, everything was perfectly normal. That was to be expected as Bilbo had spent his life since his father's death making sure that his life was as normal and respectable as possible. In part, it was to please his relations. They all expected it and Bilbo had a half-buried notion that if he were as perfectly respectable as possible, they would one day approve of him. Mostly, however, he followed his routines because it gave him comfort. Anything out of the ordinary was extremely distressing and played havoc with his nerves.

Bilbo dressed carefully before he went outside to enjoy the sun on the bench in his garden. His buttons were polished. His clothes were clean and pressed. The hair on his head and feet were neatly brushed. He was the perfect image of respectability, despite the fact that, like most days, he was extremely unlike to actually speak with anyone.

Before he left his home, Bilbo walked though it to make sure it was empty. He lived alone and had done so for many years, but he checked to see that there was no one in it all the same. Bilbo couldn't explain why he did that, but he did. He HAD to walk around his house every time he needed to leave for some errand. It was another little habit that had developed after his father's death. He didn't like doing it and really didn't want to as it wasted so much time, but the few times he had tried not to, the idea that someone may have snuck into his home plagued his mind until he'd rushed home to thoroughly search for trespassers. There never were any, but still... he had to search or it would keep nagging at him. It was exhausting. He wished someone would tell him how to stop, but he'd never told anyone about that little quirk of his; he was sure no one would understand - how could they when he didn't?

So Bilbo lived with his little quirks and had adjusted to them rather well, in his opinion. Those quirks that had helped him get passed his father's death had quickly turned into habits that helped him keep his life more or less stable.

He basked in the warmth of the sun when he sat in his garden. The day was calm and all was quiet until a large shadow fell over Bilbo. He looked up to find a big person looking down at him and he cringed only a little. That it was Gandalf who'd come to visit him had sparked a little happiness, but the moment the word 'adventure' was mentioned Bilbo beat a hasty retreat into his home. He certainly didn't need that sort of chaos.

Later, a whole pack of dwarves had shown up and everything had spun wildly out of control.

The first dwarf was bad enough, as he'd walked in without wiping his feet and had therefore trod a mess of dirt onto Bilbo's clean floor, but then more of them just kept coming until Bilbo's whole home was overflowing with dwarves. He had an embarrassment of riches when it came to dwarves of the large and well-armed type.

Bilbo felt his heart thumping and thumping away as he watched them all. It was sort of a blur. They were moving his things. The table did NOT belong there! And the chairs... everything had to be put back in the right places! He tried to stop them, but no one listened. It was as if he was invisible.

The last dwarf to arrive was the worst. He was tall and looked angry and Bilbo had the irrational urge to run off and hide when that dreadful scowled turned on him. Thorin, the leader of the bewildering group, was grumpy and glared a lot, but he smiled to see his people and, when offered supper, sat to eat politely enough. He ate every last bite of the food Bilbo set before him, even though Bilbo was painfully aware that it was a poor offering. Any hobbit would have been horrified to offer a guest such a sad meal and the rest of the dwarves had obviously felt Bilbo was inhospitable, too, as they'd made free with his pantry and set out their own supper. He had never been so embarrassed in his life!