Amara Baggins

Meeting the Company

Amara stayed in her room until the dwarves started arriving and she planned to play a little trick on Gandalf who didn't seem to care at what an inconvenient circumstance this was putting Bilbo and herself in. There was a loud knock at the door and Amara came out of her room to answer.

"Dwalin, at your service." Dwalin bowed after he saw Amara had opened the door.

"Amara Baggins at yours." Amara replied with a curtsy of sorts

"Please come in." Amara stepped back, allowing the dwarf to enter. "But I ask that you wipe your feet if your boots are dirty. We'll be going through the house to the backyard, and would prefer if I didn't have to keep cleaning the floors."

Dwalin stared for a moment before shrugging his shoulders and wiping his feet on the door mat, scraping off a good deal of mud. More then what the warrior was expecting if his raised eyebrow was anything to go by.

"Would you like me to take your cloak?" Bilbo asked coming from around the corner, eyeing Dwalin's oilskin around his shoulders, but didn't bother asking for any weapons since he knew as Thorin's bodyguard, Dwalin wouldn't hand anything over.

"Sure." Dwalin shrugged the cloak off and handed it to Bilbo, who quickly hung it up on one of the nearby coat hangers.

"Follow me, if you will." Bilbo said and started through the house. "Supper is this way."

"He did say there would be food." Dwalin commented as he followed. "And lots of it."

"I'm assuming 'he' is Gandalf, correct?" Bilbo asked as he paused at the back door, and Dwalin nodded. "I thought so. I just wish that he'd give me a little more warning before he brings guests over for supper."

"And what do you mean by, 'a little more warning'?" Dwalin questioned as he followed. "The wizard said you knew we were coming when he gave us our maps two weeks ago. How much more warning does one need?"

"More warning than just this morning." Bilbo replied smartly as he led the dwarf out the back door, and didn't need to turn around to know that Dwalin's jaw had dropped.

They had moved their tables out to the backyard that afternoon, set up chairs that he knew could handle the weight of the dwarves, and added torches so they could have light to see by, stationing them in a near dwarven fashion.

But on the table, was paradise. All of the meats Amara had cooked, the venison roasts, lamb legs and liver, beef brisket and steaks, and pork chops, sausage, and ribs that would be smoked, with three or four of each type, were the main attraction. But Bilbo, feeling a mite clever, had also added lots of fruits and lots of vegetables to the table as well. He wasn't a fool, and knew how to get the stubborn race to eat right. He was actually told by passing merchant that all dwarves like the cooked, smoked, and grilled veggies, not the one that looked like they had just been plucked off a tree or the ground.

So, aside from the meat, he had roasted and stuffed bell peppers, double stuffed and baked potatoes, sautéed and grilled eggplant, cucumber, and summer squash, fresh fruits off the tree, sliced and warmed peaches with a touch of sugar on top, a salad that consisted only of fruits like apples, pear, peaches, strawberries, and blueberries, and a small bowl of leafy salad for dear old Bombur, who actually enjoyed leafy greens on occasion.

There were large barrels of ale that he had ordered from the Green Dragon, along some red wine, water, and tea. But Bilbo was certain only himself and Amara were going to drink the tea, that is, until everyone was suffering from a hangover the next morning.