Masterfully Miscommunicated (IV)

"-. .-"

Desert (tarts, apple pies and pastries of at least five different kinds) came and went with surprisingly little fuss, as did the discussion that everyone had been waiting for, though it did kill whatever mood was left after the sweets. Thorin had gone to the dwarf lord council, but none had answered his call, not even his cousin Dain Ironfoot, which meant that their company was all that they had to go reclaim the Lonely Mountain.

13 dwarves.

Well, 13 dwarves, a wizard and a Hobbit, assuming he was going to agree to come despite Thorin's, ahem, handling of him.

Right. Nori wasn't going to bet his starfish hair against those odds, no sir.

The mood was somewhat lifted when Gandalf produced the map of the lonely mountain and revealed the existence of the secret door, which the Durin Line knew of and could use to evacuate in case of emergency. After that the talk turned into multiple isolated conversations, with the occasional point that everyone paid attention to. Like the time frame they were willing to set for themselves (one or two years, but extendable) and whether or not Gandalf had any experience with dragons (he didn't).

Through it all, even when everyone crowded around the map as well as they could, with gandlaf ending up right next to Thorin, Bilbo Baggins sat in his armchair, sipping at a cup of tea and reading through the contract that Balin had finally handed over at Thorin's order. Just the usual: summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth.

Ha! Just the usual indeed.

Nori had been keeping one eye on Bilbo and didn't miss the rising eyebrows and bemused shakes of the head. The Hobbit seemed quite immersed in his reading, and Nori found himself truly curious to see how much he would find unacceptable in it. The thief himself had caught a couple of things in the fine print that didn't sit well with him, and had haggled with Balin until he got the terms he wanted.

The discussion on Thorin's end of the table died down eventually, and it was just in time to see Bilbo Baggins frown, though the half-smile never really left his face, even as his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Oh, up to but not exceeding one fourteenth total profit if any. Seems fair." Then he snickered. "Present company shall not be liable for injuries including but not limited to laceration, evisceration... incineration?"

"Yeah!" Bofur enthused. "Think furnace, with wings!" Bilbo only seemed to find it funny. "He'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye! Flash of light, searing pain, then poof, you're nothing more than a pile of ash."

"Yes, thank you Bofur," Bilbo told him easily. "Very helpful. Your flippancy in the face of my potential death is endearing."

"I thought so too!" Gloin cut in. Nori had almost forgotten about him. He'd been among the most silent ones during the whole evening.

Bilbo hummed and lowered his eyes to the mile-long contract again. "You might as well have added immolation and combustion to the list. And why not, decapitation, impaling, death by orc ambush." Nori's eyes flickered over to Thorin whose expression began to close off even more than it already was. "That's what they are, aren't they? Throat cutters. There'd be dozens of them out there after all. The low lands are crawling with them. They strike, in the wee small hours, when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood."

"You think that's funny?" Thorin cut in, and yes, he had raised his voice. "You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?"

Bilbo glanced up and Nori felt a shiver go down his spine even though those green irises weren't aimed at him. "I didn't say that."

"No you didn't," the dwarf king bit out, settling back into his chair as if it pained him to relax. "You know nothing of the world."

Gandalf sat up in his seat and all the dwarves standing or sitting close to that end of the table gasped or yelped and sprung away as if burned. Nori would have paid more attention to Thorin's reaction to that if his eyes weren't riveted on something else. The room to Thorin's back suddenly went dark, as if a cloud of ash had sprung from nowhere. Then it looked more like ink.

Even with the candles still burning, it was like a veil of darkness fell, leaving only the window, skewed and half-covered by the curtains. The moonlight was pale but the lantern outside made up for it. Half-covered as it was, it looked like the glaring eye of a giant resting its face on its side.

Shocked by the outburst of his dwarves, at the horrified looks they sent to the wall behind him, Thorin cautiously twisted as well as he could to look over his shoulder. It was just in time for the fire in the hearth to flare. The hearth looked like a mouth twisted into the most hideous rictus. One about to spit flame all over them.

Thorin cursed in Khuzdul and jumped at the sight of a monster leering and preparing to eat him, or would have if his chair could move, but it didn't. The dwarf king grunted in surprise, then tried to push himself away, but failed. One arm became too and he tried to heave himself, but when his efforts proved to be vain his chair suddenly moved further in, crushing his chest against the edge of the table.

On the other side, Bilbo Baggins moved to the next fold of the scroll, ignoring the alarmed and helplessly angry struggles of his unwelcome guest. "Burglar acknowledges and agrees that each item of the Company's valuables, goods, money or merchandise which he recovers from the Lonely Mountain during the term of his engagement with the Company, shall remain the Property of the Company at all times, and in all respects, without limitation."

His voice caused a hush to fall over the room, and the growing darkness seemed to strain against his every word.

"Burglar acknowledges and agrees that each item of the Company's valuables, goods, money or merchandise which he recovers from the Lonely Mountain during the term of his engagement with the Company, shall remain the Property of the Company at all times, and in all respects, without limitation.

"Furthermore, the company shall retain any and all Recovered Goods until such a time as a full and final reckoning can be made, from which the Total Profits can then be established. Then, and only then, will the Burglar's fourteenth share be calculated and decided." Bilbo tapped his fingers against the paper a couple of times. "So, I'm not actually entitled to any part of the treasure. Just whatever gold you lot thin I'll be owed at the end of it."

Nori internally acknowledged the point as Balin quietly sighed.

"You know, this is actually a hilarious term, all told," Bilbo said randomly, cutting off whatever anyone was about to say. "It means I won't get to claim any actual item or gem from there. Did you even bother learning anything of us hobbits?" Bilbo asked Balin that, not Thorin. He seemed to enjoy ignoring the seething king, to whom the fiery maw seemed to be getting ever closer. "Even if we weren't simple folk that care not for gold or riches, I'm already the richest Hobbit there is you know."

That caused another round of gapes, and even Thorin paused in his ongoing attempts to push himself from the table.

Bilbo shared an amused look with a calmly smoking Gandalf and crossed his legs, then returned his attention to the contract. "Confidentiality is of utmost importance and must be strictly maintained at all times. During the course of his employment with the Company, Burglar will hear, see, learn, apprehend, comprehend, and, in short, gain knowledge of particular facts, ideas, plans, strategies, theories, geography, cartography, iconography, means, tactics and/or policies, whether actual, tangible, conceptual, historical or fanciful. Burglar undertakes and agrees to maintain this knowledge in utmost secrecy and confidentiality, and to neither divulge nor make known said knowledge by any means, including but not limited to speech, writing, demonstration, re-enactment, mime, or storage and retrieval within means or apparatus currently known or unknown or as yet unthought of."

Bilbo let that sink in.

"So, technically, I won't be allowed to speak or write about anything on the journey. Freedom of speech is not a right among dwarves?" Bilbo shook his head, though he didn't look at anyone. "Terrible society you people live in."

"Now, laddie, that's not-"

"Oh look!" Bilbo cut Balin off. "I love this one: Burglar acknowledges that monetary damages alone will be adequate compensation for a breach of this contract by the Company. So you can toss me to the wolves and it'll be fine as long as you dump some gold or silver coins in my lap. Wonderful insurance I must say."

Okay, the contract really did start to sound a bit odd if you take into account that the Burglar isn't a dwarf. And even then…

"And my, what a clever fine print we have." Bilbo shifted in his seat, took a sip from his tea and continued. "Disputes arising between the Contract Parties shall be heard and judged by an arbitrator of the Company's choosing – no mention of a neutral party. Fills me with utmost confidence."

The darkness behind Thorin, who was trembling with rage at being forced to stay immobile, began to creep further. It licked at his elbows and made the dwarf king freeze.

And then Bilbo dropped all pretense of being amused by anything. "… and all pleas shall be pleaded, shrewed, defended, answered, debated and judged in the Dwarvish Tongue." The fire in the hellmouth flared a second time and the light in the lantern outside the window went out for a moment, making it seem as if the monster had blinked at them.

Nori could feel the heat from the hearth all the way across the room. He could only wonder how it felt against Thorin. The king was fortunate that his chair had a backrest.

The Hobbit slowly held the contract away and dumped it on the floor beside him with undisguised contempt. The moment it hit the rug, the fire in the mouth of the monster surged and crackled like a whip. Sparks were kicked up, some landing on Thorin's sleeves and in his hair.

Normally, the dwarves would have charged the perceived threat to their king by now, at least the one they thought they could handle, namely the hobbit. But it was always Balin or Dwalin that called such a charge. And the former was a bit far away, and Dwalin had shrunk back and was looking wildly around, as if he thought the furniture would come alive and attack him.

"Umm… Mister Baggins?" Kili hedged plaintively, looking well and truly worried. "Please don't let the house eat our uncle."

"We still need him, you see." Fili was somewhat more composed. Somewhat.

"Hmmm…" Bilbo was glaring at the dwarf king now.

Then he suddenly pushed himself away and everyone started, thinking he would topple over and fall.

Two bare feet snagged on the underside of the table edge, leaving the armchair and hobbit teetering backwards but surprisingly steady on just two feet, despite the precarious position. Bilbo reached up, just in time to catch a jar of honey that had come flying all the way from the kitchen.

A slight tug made his large armchair crash back on all four feet. The hobbit proceeded to replenish his tea from the kettle and uncapped his honey jar. Then he gingerly added some to his tea and stirred, slowly, his glare never leaving Thorin, who was looking thunderous but no less helpless, stuck in place as he was.

After a few minutes, Bilbo brought the cup to his mouth.

A beat.

The darkness in Thorin's half of the room shuddered.

Bilbo took a deep breath, then released it and took another sip of his honey tea.

The darkness retreated nearly all the way to the wall, but the window still glared and the hell mouth still blazed.

The third sip finally, finally made the apparition disappear, slowly but surely, and Bilbo Baggins slumped in his chair with heavy, weary sigh.

The dwarves let out a collective breath. Both those who were standing and those that hadn't managed to leave their stools when Bag End got angry. Thorin visibly relaxed, though not all the way, and he was well past the point where he could pretend he'd been completely free of fear.

The King Under the Mountain tried to push away from the table, but he failed still.

"You know," Bilbo stared at his tea as he stirred it with his spoon. "You are dwarves and I'm a hobbit, so because of the entire culture shock thing some allowances could be made. So despite that there have been some things not altogether proper that I have had to cope with this night, I tried to keep an open mind when mud was dragged all across my home." The hobbit drunk all the tea, though he didn't rush. "When every new guest made enough noise to make my ears ring, I took heart in the fact that it meant they were in a good mood."

As he talked, the other dwarves returned to their chairs and kept their eyes down, not looking at either of the two opposing parties.

"But in the end I still ended up making one false assumption." Setting the empty cup and tray on the table, the Master of the House stood from his armchair, which obligingly scuttled back a couple of feet. "Pleasantly surprised as I was by the cheer of these 12 fellows around us, I mistakenly thought their merry and, in some cases, cultured and polite manner was a reflection of the one they had sworn to follow. The great leader they had joined on this grand quest to reclaim their homeland, and slay a dragon. I assumed," Bilbo propped both palms on the table, "That the positive impression they left on me was a reflection of you." The hobbit pushed himself away and gave Thorin a look of utmost contempt. "Clearly, I was mistaken."

Thorin looked thunderous, itching to stand up and do and say Mahal knew what, but Nori and everyone else never got to know what it would be.

The entire room went dark as if Gandalf had just gone into one of his famous fits.

And Bilbo Baggins was glaring at the dwarf sequestered to the chair across the table from him. "You have the gall to show yourself here and treat me with utter derision in my own house. You barely acknowledge me when I open the door and proceed to insult me at every turn without past grievances existing between us! You presume to think yourself my better even though your amazing ability to get lost twice on a 2-mile road is the absolute least of your issues!"

The fire in the hearth almost exploded and a wave of heat wafted over everyone gathered in the dining room. Dwalin made a strangled noise, barely drowned by the yelps of the princes and Bombur.

"I would have been willing to overlook it all," Bilbo said lowly. "After all, you came here burdened by the knowledge you would have to share the bad news with the rest of your fellows. That the rest of your kin had turned their backs on you. That is why you lingered outside for so long, despite having some through the rain, wasn't it? Because you didn't know how to break the bad news. I was ready to bear your attitude, even though it is the mark of a lesser man."

Nori was sure someone or Thorin himself would have snapped something back by now, but he doubted he was the only one who felt like too much air was pressing on his mouth and nose and throat.

"But this!" Bilbo waved at the discarded contract in disgust. "This so-called contract is nothing but a deliberate, premeditated insult to my intelligence. Because, clearly, insulting my appearance and my presumed occupation was not enough. And to think you seethe when Men sneer down their noses at you. I can't imagine why, since the moment you found someone smaller you proceeded to do the exact same thing."

Without any notice, the darkness lifted.

But Bilbo Baggins had one last thing to say. "Maybe you missed it in all the excitement, but I am not your subject, Thorin Oakenshield, and you are not my king."

Silence.

"And I will travel nowhere with hypocrites, no matter their station."

The air pressure choking them dispersed, making all but the now blank-faced kin buckle and sigh in relief.

"Now if you'll excuse me," Nori did a double take at how quickly the hobbit once again assumed his unbothered air. "I will turn in. I must usher in the dawn tomorrow. Gandalf, a word in private if you don't mind?"

Without further ado, Bilbo Baggins strode out of the room.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick-tock went the clock.

Gandalf heaved himself from his chair and smoothed out his robes. "Well," he said bemusedly, subjecting the company to a cursory gaze. "That could have gone better." And without another word, the wizard followed the landlord out.