Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit. :( But I do play around with the characters.

Chapter 4: Loss of a Burglar

Previously: "There's another way in."

Gandalf replied, "Yes. If we can find it. However, when they are closed, Dwarf doors are answer is hidden in this map, but I do not have skill enough to find it. Yet there are others in Middle Earth who do have the skill. This task will require stealth and courage. But it can be done, if we are careful and clever."

"Well," Ori said, "that's why we need a burglar."

"Yes, and a good one, too—an expert, in fact," Bilbo said.

"Are you?" Glóin asked.

Bilbo looked around as if he wasn't sure who Glóin was talking to. "Am I…what?"

Óin said, "He said he's an expert!" Kíli and Fíli exchanged glances. Fíli rolled his eyes and Kíli choked while trying to suppress his laughter. Fíli quickly thumped his back. Óin doesn't hear very well, that's why he has the ear trumpet, Kíli thought, recovering from choking.

"Me? Oh, no. No. No. No. I am not a burglar," Bilbo protested. Kíli remembered Thorin's comment about how Bilbo looked more like a grocer than a burglar, and he smothered another laugh. "I have never stolen a thing in my life!" Bilbo was indignant.

"I have to agree with our hobbit," Balin said. "He isn't burglar material at all."

Dwalin nodded in agreement. "The Wild is not a place for gentle folk who cannot fight or fend for themselves." Bilbo clearly agreed with Dwalin, and he showed it by nodding and gesturing towards him.

What can we do? We can't lose our burglar. "He's just fine." Kíli said. Again, there was an uproar at the table, with some dwarves agreeing with Dwalin, and others who had the same viewpoint as Kíli. However, this time it was not Thorin who quieted them, but Gandalf.

"That is enough. If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then he is a burglar." Gandalf stood up and looked taller than he was. The shadows appeared to gather around him. It is quite frightening, really, Kíli thought. "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet, and they can pass unseen by most, if they want to. Besides, the dragon is accustomed to the scent of Dwarf; a hobbit's scent is unknown, which is a distinct advantage." Gandalf sat and turned to Thorin, speaking quieter now. Kíli caught phrases of it, including: "fourteenth member", "more to him", and "suggest". He then spoke to the whole Company: "He has a lot more to offer than any of you know, including himself."

"Very well. Give him the contract," Thorin said, speaking to Balin and entirely ignoring the hobbit's protests of "No, no, no!"

"We're in and off," Bofur said.

"Here you are," Balin told Bilbo, handing him the contract. "It's the usual—summary of out-of-pocket expenses, required time, compensation, funeral arrangements, that sort of thing."

"Excuse me? Funeral arrangements?" Bilbo was looking pale.

As the rest of the table stood and stretched, Kíli remained seated with Fíli, watching Bilbo. "I hope he signs the contract," Kíli said. He watched Thorin lean in towards Gandalf and hold a whispered conversation.

Bilbo was reading the terms out loud, and he got to the part about the Company not responsible for any injuries. "Lacerations…evisceration…incineration. Incineration?" He asked, turning to the dwarves.

"Yes. Smaug'll melt the flesh off of your bones in the blink of an eye," Bofur said. Bofur isn't helping very much. We need him to sign it…not to scare him away. Bilbo whimpered and Kíli thought he was going to pass out.

"Laddie, you all right?" Balin asked, concern written all over his face.

"Mmm. Yeah." Bilbo bent over and put his hands on his knees, then stood up. "I feel a little faint."

"Just think furnace…with wings," Bofur said.

"Bofur! You're not helping!" Kíli said.

"Air. I need air."

"Flash of light. Searing pain. Then, poof, you're just a pile of ash."

"Bofur!" Kíli was exasperated, shaking his head. Kíli didn't really have a right to be lecturing Bofur, though, as the toymaker had taken care of him and Fíli many times during their childhood.

"Right. Yeah. Nope." Bilbo said, then fell to the floor in a dead faint.

"Yes, that was very helpful, Bofur," Gandalf said, a touch of sarcasm in his tone.

"Well, I figured he should know exactly what's happening." Bofur justified himself.

Thorin rolled his eyes and directed Óin to rouse the hobbit. Óin went to work, pulling out strong-smelling herb-pouches that made Kíli wrinkle his nose and his eyes water. Óin held the pouches under Bilbo's nose one at a time, moving each gently so as to waft the smell into his nostrils.

Dori made a pot of chamomile tea, so Bilbo could have a cup when he regained consciousness.

Bilbo woke with a start when the fourth pouch was waved under his nose. "My goodness! What is that?" he asked, clearly revolted. "It smells like something crawled into a boot and died!" He broke off, momentarily startled as Óin merely grinned and put the herb pouches away. Kíli frowned, that was exactly what the smell was. He made a mental note to ask Óin the next time he got a chance. "Not that I really know what that smells like. But I'm sure that would have been it," he finished. Kíli moved forward, hiding a smile, and helped the hobbit to stand.

"Here you are, Mr Baggins. A nice, hot cup of chamomile tea," Dori said, holding a steaming cup out to Bilbo.

Bilbo took the proffered cup with a muttered "thanks" and tottered off to his armchaire by the fire. "Just, just let me sit quietly for a moment," he said, sitting.

One by one, the dwarves and Gandalf filtered out of the room where Bilbo was, each going about his own business.

Dwalin sat on the floor, where he got out his axe and set about sharpening it.

Balin sat near his brother, but on a chair, humming and quietly plucking a tune from his viol.

Ori sat, sketching on a pad of parchment with pen and ink.

Nori sat on a stool, fiddling with his lockpicks.

Dori sat with a cup of tea, watching his two brothers.

Glóin and Óin sat next to each other quietly talking of the Blue Mountains and Glóin's son Gimli.

Bofur sat in the hall, carving a piece of wood into something, with Bifur sitting next to him.

Bombu went to the kitchen getting more food. He came back a few minutes later and offered some to Bifur.

Thorin sat on an armchair, smoking his pipe and sending smoke rings all over the room.

Gandalf sat on a stool where he could watch Bilbo. He was also smoking his pipe and blowing smoke rings. However, his smoke rings went right through each of Thorin's before turning green and coming back to stay over his head.

Kíli and Fíli sat next to each other. "Will Bilbo be alright?"

"I'm sure he will, Kíli," Fíli replied.

They were silent for a while, when Gandalf got up and went over to talk to Bilbo. "Can you make out what they're saying?" Fíli asked Kíli, since Kíli had always had sharper hearing.

"Just barely—a word here, another there. Something about an Uncle Bull-something-or-other, a horse, a battle, and golf. It doesn't make any sense to me." Kíli replied.

Suddenly Bilbo stood up and walked to another room, saying, "I'm sorry, but I can't." This time, it was loud enough for both Kíli and Fíli to hear, and—Kíli supposed—several of the others.

They watched as Thorin went over to Balin. "It seems we have lost our burglar," Balin said.

"So we have. But I do not want a burglar who does not want to be one." Thorin replied.

"Fíli, we need our burglar. We need Mr Baggins," Kíli said.

"I know, Kíli. I know." Fíli replied, putting his arm around his brother, pulling him in close for comfort. Kíli leaned in, willingly pulling all the comfort he could from Fíli. Fíli was his rock, Kíli reflected. And always had been, from when they were little.

The two brothers noticed Thorin gathering the others into the parlour, where the fire was lit and crackling merrily. They stood up and followed Thorin in. They sat on a bench, and then the humming started.

Thorin started singing first: "Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day"

Balin joined in: "To find our long forgotten gold."

Kíli hummed along. The song evoked memories of nights sitting with Fíli and Dís in front of their fireplace, while Uncle told them stories, ending the evening by singing "Misty Mountains". He shared a smile with Fíli.

The others joined in: "The pines were roaring on the height
The winds were moaning in the night"

Kíli and Fíli sat and hummed, content to hum and listen to the others.

"The fire was red, it flaming spread
The trees like torches blazed with light.

Far over the misty mountains grim
To dungeons deep and caverns dim
We must away, ere break of day
To win our home and gold from him!"

The song ended and Thorin said, "We will leave before sunrise. Everybody, get some rest, you will need it. Gandalf, where are the horses?"

"The horses are at the tavern called The Green Dragon." Gandalf replied.

"Good, we will stop there at dawn. Get some sleep," he reiterated.

And with that, the candles were extinguished and the dwarves went to sleep. Kíli and Fíli were curled together. "Night, Fee," Kíli murmured, already half-asleep. He heard his brother reply, "Night, Kee" as he drifted off.

A/N: I am apparently awful at keeping my promise. This was supposed to be up on Sunday…Sorry about that.

A viol is a Renaissance/baroque instrument with 6 strings, held vertically and played with a bow. Plucking is when you use your finger to pluck (hence the name) the string to create sound.

The word "home" in the last verse of Misty Mountains was originally "harps" (in the book) but I took creative liscense because I thought home went better here.

Please review! Reviews make the voices tell me stories of what to write next!

Anyways, hope you all enjoy it so far!