14 Master of Hill (I)

"I bet it'll be better than that one time when that platoon actually happened to be in town when the last pre-adventure day came around," the woman that had snatched Bilbo's fiddle bow said from her stall. "They thought we'd brought too much food. Poor folk. They probably never get enough to eat on the road. They're always so grim and their faces so drawn-in. That settles it! I'll be sending word to my sisters in Tighfield to bring the best honey and blueberry syrup."

Thorin kept listening to the chatter with only half an ear. Deliberately. He was fairly certain that if he allowed any more of his attention to focus on the hobbits and what they were saying, he would have a rather more… intense reaction to their bizarre way of life. It was bad enough that he'd taken to sitting on the upside-down bucket he'd tripped on earlier. On his left, across the alley leading out between the big folk building and the pottery, Gandalf stood and puffed his pipe, looking obnoxiously delighted by the scene before him.

The dwarf king (to-be) entertained the idea of retrieving his company and getting the hell out of dodge, but that would have meant braving the crowd, and he wasn't sure he could take a more direct, close-up exposure to hobbits without losing whatever shred of sanity he had left.

Not that he was ever going to admit that out loud.

Mahal, they were so backwards. The "trade" consisted of how good each hobbit was at bringing up reasons why they should contribute this or that, pro bono, instead of someone else. Whenever someone won an argument, they left looking smug, while the other either laughed it off or grumbled about the "nerve" of the other thinking their goods were better than their own. Not that it happened often. For the most part, the Hobbitry seemed content to all pitch in.

Thorin hoped this only applied to parties, or that Bilbo Baggins was to blame for this temporary mass insanity. He doubted he could handle it if this was what Hobbits were normally like. It was like they had no concept of real trade at all. Or maybe they just got it all wrong. They were backwards…

A few feet to his right, Dwalin was doing his best not to fidget while looking over the crowd and keeping an eye each on Fili and Kili. At least those two were sticking together. Thorin himself also let his eyes roam over the hobbit populace, since the side of the market square they were on was a bit higher up than the rest, so even though he was sitting on the bucket he still reached above their eye level.

Unfortunately, that meant he got a perfect view of the moment when Balin and Gloin finally laid eyes on them. The two dwarves were listening to Bilbo cheerfully explaining something or other, but stepped back when the Halfling was called upon by one of his equally crazy kinsmen. A question about cargo handling no doubt. Regardless, once the hobbit left the two dwarves, Balin looked around and finally spotted the two of them. Well, three if the Wizard counted.

Balin's eyes narrowed and his face settled into a pinched expression.

A moment later, Gloin saw what Balin was looking at and adopted a similarly peeved look. Then the two old dwarves made for them. And somehow, all the hobbits milling about got out of their way looking for the life of them like it was just a coincidence that a perfectly straight path was cut for the two members of the Company.

Balin looked like a dwarf on an orc hunt, and Thorin felt a weight settle in his gut. That look was not good. Not good at all.

But he refused to be cowed. He was King! So he got up from the bucket as if he was sitting up from a plush armchair and adopted his well-practiced, dour gaze. And when Gloin and Balin cleared the worst of the market chaos, he opened his mouth and-

"Wizard!"

… shut it with a dull clamp from the sheer confusion of it.

Gandalf blinked and didn't even have time to ask why Balin was descending on him like a hurricane because the dwarf grabbed him by a wrist none too gently. "Come, let us have a talk, shall we?" His voice sounded so sinisterly sweet that Thorin swallowed any intent of verbally interfering.

"What do y-" was all Gandalf managed to get out before he was dragged off into the alley. Well, half-dragged by Balin and half-pushed by Gloin.

Completely nonplussed, Thorin shared a perplexed look with Dwalin and ran after them. They caught up none too soon, because when Balin judged them far enough removed from the market square, he damn near tossed Gandalf forward and rounded on him. "Are we a joke to you, wizard?!"

"… I… I beg your pardon?" Gandalf stumbled, both on his words and on his feet.

"Are we a joke to you? Was this all a joke to you? Did you spark hope in our plight for some sick amusement?" Balin would have been spitting mad if he didn't have centuries of practice at staying composed. As it was, instead of snarling and spreading his spit everywhere, he was only red in the face and eloquently stabbing the wizard with words. "Did your tendency to count us out by names like dwarflings bleed over into your addled mind? Did you age catch up with you to the extent that you think we are like children you can lead around by the nose?!"

"What on earth do you-"

"You told us you had arranged things with the burglar weeks ago!" Balin damn near shouted. "And we arrive to find out that the last time you even came within a day's distance of Bilbo Baggins prior to yesterday morning was actually 10 years back!" Hold on, what? "I have to wonder, did it at least turn out as amusing as you hoped? Was that your plan? To have a good laugh at our expense for descending on his home like uninvited ruffians?! Or was it that you hoped our uninvited arrival would overwhelm our host and turn him into a laughing stock instead! You certainly seemed quite amused throughout the entire spectacle this morning!"

Thorin gaped as Gandalf sputtered. The next word that was spoken came from his own mouth, and he soon wished he'd kept silent. "Balin-"

The dwarf royal advisor whirled on him and jabbed him in the chest with his finger. "Don't you Balin me!" Thorin staggered back. "I'll get to you later, oh yes I will, believe me!" After which he, thankfully, turned back upon the wizard. "Did you or did you not lie to us about having secured a burglar when you had, in fact, never even spoken to him in person!?"

The grey meddler worked his jaw a couple of times before seemingly rallying himself. "I assure you that's not-"

"I don't care for excuses!" Balin cut him off derisively. "Do you realize what you did? You made us look like morons!" Thorin cringed. Wasn't that a bit much? Or had his men done… things before he arrived? "Or did you expect a common hobbit as we know them? A grocer?" Thorin winced at the disdain hat dripped from that word. "You would have painted Bilbo Baggins as someone who had made a promise to aid us but was now trying to weasel out of it because of the danger. Even if he came with us in the end, we would have treated him as a dishonorable outsider and a coward because of that! Or was that your intention?! To set him up for something like that? Or was it to set us up? To sow mistrust and ill will among us? When it was you that set us on this path in the first place?"

"Why… I assure you I did not! Why, that you would even think such a-"

"You gave Thorin a map that led to the tannery!" The dwarf in question gaped and, when the words fully sank in, started rummaging through his coat pockets, looking for the parchment. "You vandalized a property! And you did it when the one inside was as far away from a burglar as anyone could possibly get!"

Reeling, the wizard tried to regain his balance. "..Wh… Well, I never!" His voice seemed to regain its steadiness and he tossed a glare of his own. "If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is!"

"So you're delusional too!" Balin snapped. "Spare me your theatrics. You know full well what Bilbo Baggins really is!"

Thorin blinked and looked up from the map he was perusing. "He does?"

Gandalf looked well and truly rattled and confused. "Whatever I may have omitted surely can't be enough to caus-"

"Oh, don't you even try," Balin cut him off. "Unlike others, I do know my Westron grammar." Balin started pacing to and fro, length-wise in regards to the road. He passed Thorin and Dwalin's position twice before he stopped with his back to them, reached up to rub his beard and pondered something. Then he whirled on his feet again and glared at the wizard. "I'm going to ask you one more thing, wizard."

"I'm sure I'll-"

"I wasn't finished!"

"…"

"Right… so, I'll ask you this one thing. And just so we're clear, if I don't like your answer I'll spend the rest of my life using my position as royal advisor to advise that you should be considered an enemy of the dwarven people on par with Smaug."

The sight of the jaws of both Thorin Oeakenshield and Dwalin dropping to the floor would have been comical in any other situation. But there could be little humor in what essentially amounted to the closest thing to a declaration of everlasting enmity.

Gandalf stared at the dwarf, stunned, for a minute. Then his eyes narrowed and he huffed in frustration. "You dwarves and your drama… Fine! Ask your question that we may put this foolishness past us."

Thorin almost couldn't believe it. How could the wizard not consider everything said before a serious issue?

But as fate would have it, Balin's next question made things even worse. The old dwarf met Gandalf's frustrated gaze with his own blistering glare and growled through his clenched teeth. "When were you going to inform us that Bilbo Baggins was royalty?"

…

With something between shock and outrage, Thorin turned on the wizard himself.

Gandalf looked gobsmacked for a moment, then he slowly dropped his head and reached up to grab the bridge of his nose.

...

Oh.

Well damn. "He's WHAT?" Thorin shrieked, voice sounding an octave or two higher than normal as he looked at Balin again. "But… but he really looks like a groc-"

"HE WEARS GOLD-LINED VELVET!" Gloin hollered in tandem with Balin from where he was beyond the man, making Gandalf jump. "He had stores of food large enough to throw us a feast without prior notice!" Balin added as he advanced on his king. "He has plumbing and unlimited hot water! His house was large enough to host us all comfortably! Even has special big folk rooms! And he was well enough educated in foreign cultured to anticipate our needs and social norms. At least until you arrived, my king." Thorin would have normally chastised anyone who would address him so rudely, but in that moment he was only sorry he'd drawn his advisor's ire away from Gandalf and to himself. "He could have rightfully thrown us all out after the stunt you pulled! Not just from his home but from the Shire itself! Where all those lessons I gave you in manners and diplomacy went, I'll never know!"

It took all of Thorin's mental strength to stay blank-faced. That had stung.

"Mighty good thing he didn't throw us out too," Gloin grunted. "Or we might've all ended up like Nori."

That got Dwalin to snap out of the shock he'd fallen into when the word "royalty" had been spoken earlier. "What? What do you mean? What did the thief get himself into this time?"

Thorin winced. Did Dwalin have to yell out the occupation of that dwarf? Thank Mahal no hobbits were there to hear.

Or so he thought.

As it happened, the older member of the company was of similar mind. "Will you keep it down!" Balin hissed at his brother. "Or do you want to the whole Shire to think we're harboring a criminal and think we're all up to no good?"

"There ain't no one nearby to hear," the surly Dwalin said.

Balin laughed half-manically. "Oh, I assure you there are at least four hobbit Bounders watching us right now." Thorin stiffened and began to look around as unobtrusively as he could. "Don't bother, my king. You won't see them, the same way you failed to see them trailing us ever since we stepped onto Hobbit territory."

"… What did you say?" He must have misheard. Hobbits were bizarre creatures, but certainly not versed in skullduggery, not with those round-bellied frames of theirs.

"Exactly what I said," Balin answered drily. "Nori didn't see them either, so he thought it was safe to try and eavesdrop on Bilbo Baggins through the window after you left last night. He got himself rendered unconscious and thrown into the closest pig sty for his trouble."

"… You're joking," Dwalin said flatly.

"Not at all," Balin was just as flat-toned. "I'd say 'ask him' only he's not present, or even aware right now. He's back in Bag End, insensate. And if I understand correctly, when he does wake up he won't have any memory of last night."

That took both dwarves aback. "What do you mean-"

"I can't say more," Balin waved him silent. "Bounder matters. I signed a non-disclosure agreement."

Thorin reached up to rub at both temples. Why oh why did they ever think coming to the Shire was a good idea?

"You still haven't answered me, wizard!" Balin shouted at the strained-looking Istar.

Gandalf sighed heavily. "Hobbits do not have royalty."

There was an awkward silence.

Which Balin broke. "Unbelievable…" He breathed, shaking his head. "Tharkûn…" Balin asked, slowly enunciating each syllable as if he was speaking to a simpleton. "Is the Thain or is he not the one in charge of the Shire's judicial, diplomatic, economic and military matters?"

"Well… officially he is but-"

"And is Thain or is it not a hereditary title?"

Gandalf looked vaguely annoyed. "Well yes, but-"

But Balin was too angry to humor him. "And is Bilbo Baggins or is he not his sister-son!?"

The silence said everything, even though Gandalf seemed more frustrated with how no one seemed inclined to see or even consider his point. As he looked at the man, Thorin supposed there probably was a supporting argument in there somewhere, but he was pretty certain he would agree with Balin's instead even if it did come out.

Mahal, this sort of situation probably deserved an acronym.

"Oh my lord!" Balin palmed his forehead. "It's a wonder we didn't all get dumped beyond the Shire border with hallucination-induced memories of a week's worth of drunken debauchery!" Rubbing his palm down his face, the dwarf glared at Gandalf yet again. "Just so you know, if it happens I'm blaming you!"

"It won't."

"GAH!" Balin jumped a whole foot in the air when that voice came from right behind him. He managed to land on his feet but brought a hand to his chest, facing the newcomer. For his part, Thorin spun on his heels to face the new voice that was suddenly there. Why the hell wasn't Dwalin watching their backs? Oh, wait, he was paying as much attention to Gandalf being dressed down as he was. He supposed he shouldn't blame him too much…

Balin gasped. "Don't DO that!" With some effort, he managed to take a deep breath, then release it. "Spare this old man's heart, lad!"

Bilbo, who'd somehow come to be right behind where Balin used to be, frowned. "I walked up here normally."

Balin deflated and dropped his head with a shrill sigh. "Of course you did."

"As a matter of fact," Gandalf piped up, sounding annoyed. "He arrived a couple of minutes earlier." The wizard frowned in disapproval. "He just decided to keep ever so unhelpfully silent."

Bilbo looked totally unimpressed. "And what were you expecting? A rescue?" He scoffed, not even acknowledging Thorin's presence even then. The nerve. "You may have apologized to me for the harm you committed against my person and my creation, Gandalf, and I am willing to be cordial if you will. But I am merely one of fourteen whom you knowingly and deliberately wronged."

After wondering if he should feel mollified at being included in that statement, Thorin decided to take what he could get.

Bilbo broke eye contact with the aggravated old man and met Balin's again. "That said, I may as well clarify that in this, at least, Gandalf is somewhat correct. The Shire is not a monarchy. I am no more important than my fellows due to my bloodline. In fact, reputation-wise, I get more of my so-called respectability from being a Baggins instead of a Took." He smirked then. "The reason people seem to fall over themselves to please me is because of my contributions to the community and, of course, because I am the best entertainer you'll ever find!"

Balin, who had calmed down somewhat, pondered that. "So… you're saying that the Shire is a meritocracy?"

Bilbo opened his mouth, then closed it. After a moment, he nodded. "Yes, that is just about right."

On Balin, that answer had the opposite effect than the one Thorin was expecting and hoping for. "Oh Mahal, that only makes this worse!" Balin openly despaired, sinking his face in both hands.

Valar above, he seemed to be swearing by their God a lot, Thorin thought.

Bilbo sighed softly and pulled out a flask from… somewhere under his long coat. Still acting as if no one but Balin and Gandalf existed, he approached the old dwarf and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Here, you look like you could use a drink."

Though looking tired, frazzled really, and somewhere between grateful and uncomfortable for a second, Balin accepted the bottle and took a long chug. When he finished he exhaled from the depths of his lungs and stared at the container curiously before handing it back. "What is that? It had no taste but felt sweet and charged, somehow."

Bilbo gave a vague smile and responded, much to general bemusement. "Water, my good dwarf." The container was gone. How had he missed the hobbit stashing it away, Thorin had no idea.

And now what? Given Balin's attitude earlier, there was no way Bilbo Baggins was going to join them without an apology from him. On the one hand, hindsight suggested he really had approached the situation… inadequately. On the other, the dwarf king wasn't sure he even wanted Baggins for a burglar at this point. And it wasn't just because the idea of apologizing to anyone rankled. Truly, it was not! Besides, they didn't need an "entertainer" on the quest.

"Now!" The hobbit turned away from the incredulous, white-haired dwarf to finally, finally look at the two of them. "The reason I am truly here." Well, if he was going to renounce his advantage by speaking first, who was Thorin to deny him- "Master Dwalin."

Hold up, what?

Bilbo, for the life of him, acted as though Thorin didn't even exist. Despite that Dwalin was half-way behind him, as bodyguards tended to hover. "It has come to my attention that you were the victim of a misunderstanding."

With a cautious glance in Thorin's direction (and no, Thorin was not gritting his teeth), Balin's brother finally spoke for once. "Misunderstanding?"

Bilbo Baggins proved he had no qualms about speaking his mind. "The kind that led you to the conclusion that my house was trying to molest you."

Gloin started to cough suspiciously in the background.

Dwalin sputtered unintelligibly for a few moments before rallying himself (and could he blame him? Thorin was staring in shock too), but he didn't get the chance to speak.

"So tell me, Master Dwarf. How on Arda would the concept of sexuality even apply to a building?" Dwalin was stumped by the earnest, nearly astonished tone. Thorin had to grudgingly admit he had a point. "And even if it were possible, do keep in mind that Bag End's sentience is only ten years old."

Dwalin stared. "… Oh." Then he blinked, and blinked again. "Why'd it try to smother me with the curtains then?"

"Not smother. Hug." Bilbo replied. Because that sounded so much less bizarre. "You not only were the first dwarf to ever come through my gate, but you are also the most honest person I've ever encountered." Dwalin stared, and when he didn't find anything but frankness in the Hobbit's eyes, he shifted a bit at the… praise? "Thoughts and feelings aren't fully ensconced in your heads, Master Dwarf. They are like strands and eddies, swirling about you, or like a star of blazing fire. Sometimes I can perceive them as they affect the world, but Bag End does it all the time." Thorin nearly scoffed, but then remembered almost being eaten by darkness and grimaced instead. "Normally, such eddies are mild, muted, but they are brighter and stronger the freer a person thinks and feels. The more straightforward they are, the stronger their feelings show. I long learned to control my Flame, but I still burn bright enough when I reach out with my mind to talk to my home. And yet you burned and still burn brighter than even that. When you accepted my invitation, it was like a sun entered my house." Dwalin's ears pinked as he looked down at the hilt of the axe he was fiddling with. "Even now you flare with protective loyalty. And the sheer love you have for your kin blazes brighter than even that of your king."

Dwalin was well and truly red now, even on the top of his bald head, and didn't seem to register the outrage and hurt Thorin felt. At that underhanded accusation that he didn't care for his people as much as he should.

"That said!" Bilbo turned casual but no less honest. "I apologize on behalf of Bag End for the discomfort you may have felt due to this misunderstanding. Bag End thought you were reaching out to it and was merely trying to reciprocate. I have since cleared the confusion, but I would still like to extend an offer to facilitate communication between you two." That finally made the blushing Dwalin look up again. "It's not all selfless on my part though! I want Bag End to grow, and it can only gain from being exposed to a person of your moral fiber."

With the expression of one who just saw something he couldn't make heads or tails of, Dwalin looked from Bilbo, to Balin, to Thorin and again Bilbo, then cleared his throat, though he was still pink in the face when he answered. "Erm… That's alright I s'pose. I reckon we have to double back anyhow, since our things are still there." Thorin threw him a dirty look, but Dwalin wasn't looking at him so he might just have failed to notice his king's obvious opinion the matter.

Fat chance. Dwalin had just ignored him!

It made the king glare at the hobbit. The gall, the Halfling was seducing his followers away from him!

"Wonderful!" Bilbo clapped his hands together. "In that case, I should-"

A hobbit fell from the sky and landed a crouch right next to Bilbo.

Except for Balin and Gloin, the dwarves jumped and yelped, but the newcomer didn't pay them much mind. Instead, he pushed to his feet (had he jumped all the way down from the rooftop above?) and went to whisper something in Bilbo's ear. Then he gave a short bow (still not acknowledging anyone other than Bilbo Baggins) and turned to leave, taking off his single-feather cap and collapsing it as he went.

"Ah, I suppose that's my cue to leave," Bilbo said, as if what had just happened was normal. "Apologies, we will have to pick this up later. Seems the Mayor of Michel Delving is looking for me. By your leave!"

And he walked off.

Later, he would consider the implications of the Mayor of a village two settlements away coming over from across the Farthing just because Bilbo decided to throw an impromptu party, but for now, there was only silence.

Until Thorin broke it, unable to understand why Balin and Gloin hadn't reacted to the appearance of the halfling. "Was that supposed to be normal? Because the Halfling acted as if it was normal!"

Balin sighed, shook his head in despondence and left as well.

Thorin never did see Gandalf relaxing in what could only be relief that Balin wasn't going to chew him out anymore, but he did hear his advisor's last parting shot. "Just to be clear, I'm not done with you, wizard! Remember! For the next while at least, I know where you live and sleep!"

Gandalf groaned and not-quite stormed away, muttering about dwarves and their drama again, and Gloin left soon after. At the end of it, Thorin could only rub his temples and ask himself again why he ever thought coming to the Shire was a good idea.

Dwalin was silent beside him, but not for long. "Sooo…. Ale?"

"Mahal, yes!"