Chapter 2: A Confusion of Confrontations

"My dear Bilbo, what on earth is the matter?"

Bilbo threw the doily he had been folding back onto the shelf in frustration. "What's the matter?" He hissed at the wizard, "I'm surrounded by dwarves. What are they doing here!"

"Oh, I think you'll find them quite a merry gathering." There was the snap of sausage links breaking as the two dwarves fighting for them pulled just a bit too hard, and Gandalf hesitated. "…once you get used to them."

"I don't want to get used to them! Just look at the state of my kitchen!" Bilbo gestured at the piles of food and dirty dishes. Seeing that the old wizard was finally paying attention to him, Bilbo continued to voice his complaints, moving out of the kitchen to point out more dwarven destruction. "There's mud drying on the carpet, and they've all but pillaged the pantry, and—and—"

Gandalf placed a hand on the hobbit's shoulder. "I'm sure it's not all that bad."

"Oh?" Elric's voice came from the left, and Bilbo turned to see the man walking towards them with one eyebrow raised. "Then I'm afraid you haven't gotten a peak at what they've done to the plumbing."

Bilbo couldn't help the small whimper that slipped out at the thought of having to clean up the bathroom. It must have shone on his face, for Elric leaned in closer and in a conspiratorial tone whispered, "Though I can help you fix that as soon as they're gone."

Bilbo gave Elric a weak smile. All night, the blond had been kept busy helping Bilbo regulate portion sizes and stopping the raucous party from getting entirely out of hand. The hobbit was mildly surprised that Elric hadn't abandoned ship when he had become a casualty in one of the more minor food fights, and Bilbo was all the more grateful that he had stayed. He hadn't even known Elric's name before that night, but by now he felt as if the man had been his friend for ages. Bilbo guessed that battle would do that to folks.

Before he could thank Elric, however, another voice spoke up. "s'cuse me." It was one of the younger dwarves—Ori?—who stood in the hall awkwardly holding an empty plate. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?"

~o(0)o~

Ed watched in thinly veiled amusement as the dwarves sent dishes flying and bouncing into the kitchen, Bilbo scrambling desperately to save them. In his panic the hobbit had yet to notice how not a single dish cracked or shattered under the "rough" treatment. Ed was mildly impressed by the dwarves's skill: it took careful control to kick a stack of dishes with steel-toed boots and not end up with a pile of shattered tableware.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught Ed's attention, and he saw Gandalf moving carefully towards the kitchen. The old man narrowly ducked a yellow bowl before slipping into the small alcove where Ed had taken refuge.

"And how does this evening's proceedings find you?" Gandalf asked, lighting his pipe and looking over at Ed.

Ed shrugged noncommittally and glanced up at the old man's face…only to be stuck fast by Gandalf's gaze. The chaos outside of the alcove seemed to melt away, as if the two of them were now the only ones who mattered.

"If I may ask," Gandalf began, but it was clear he sought no permission. "Why did you come to the Shire?" This was a demand for information. This was an interrogation.

Ed hated interrogations.

"Why is that any of your concern?"

Gandalf took a draw from his pipe, the embers inside flaring as the old man breathed. "I fancy myself knowledgeable in the comings and goings of hobbits."

Ed wanted to roll his eyes. Great, so he's this nosey with everyone, then.

"But I have heard no mention of you, Mister Elric, and it does not seem in the keeping of hobbits to harbor a Man in the Shire."

Ed straightened. "No one is 'harboring' me anywhere. I earn my keep. I live in my own home. And my goings about the Shire are my own business, as they have been for the last ten years." The dishes had stopped flying through the air, so Ed stepped out of the alcove and away from the old man. "If you are only noticing me now, perhaps you have not kept as good of an eye on the Shire as you think."

A cheer went up from the kitchen, where it seemed all the dwarves had congregated. Gandalf continued to stare at Ed. Ed wanted to get away from the old man, but Bilbo was his host, and the hobbit seemed to regard Gandalf as an old acquaintance. He wouldn't cause a stir now, but if the old man pushed him further…

"Hmph!" Gandalf blinked. The tension that had filled the air was suddenly lifted, and the breath Ed hadn't even realized he was holding fell out in a relieved sigh. The old man now looked at Ed with his brow furrowed, almost as if in…apology?

"I fear we have gotten off on the wrong foot." Gandalf huffed, puffing the end of his pipe with a wrinkled hand. "Please do not think too harshly of me, Mister Elric. The reasons for this meeting are rather sensitive, and it would be best if news of it was kept to the bare minimum. Your presence was unexpected, and I simply needed to be sure that—"

"You think I'm a threat?" Ed crossed his arms. He had tried hard to keep a low profile, taking pains to be polite to others and seem as 'normal' as one could be for a Man in a land of hobbits. Now this old man comes along and has the gall to suggest that he has ulterior motives?

"I—"

Thump, thump, thump

The noise from the kitchen immediately stopped, and Gandalf froze. The old man was looking past Ed, towards the front door. "…He's here."

~o(0)o~

Bilbo took one last glance at the pile of miraculously cleaned dishes before following the flow of dwarves heading to the front door. Would it be too much to hope that they were leaving?

Elric must have joined him somewhere between the kitchen and the front hall, for the blond now stood at Bilbo's side, his expression tight and eyes focused on something ahead of them.

"Is everything alright?"

Elric jumped slightly, eyes flicking over to Bilbo and then relaxing. "I should be asking you that: you're the one hosting a party of dwarves."

"And you've been helping." Bilbo countered. "I can't thank you enough, by the way."

Elric hummed. "No thanks needed. It was a matter of equivalent exchange. Need I remind you that I was the one who led them to your door?"

Bilbo opened his mouth to answer, but at that moment Gandalf opened the front door.

"Gandalf." It was a dwarf that stepped through the door, but he was unlike any of the others Bilbo had seen that night. He had black hair, a strong brow, and a mantle of fur hung over his shoulders, hinting at a status the masterfully-etched leather clothing assured. The dwarf seemed tall to Bilbo—not in height but in sheer magnitude of presence. Where the other dwarves had come as uninvited guests, this one carried the authority of a leader.

Standing confident and strong the dwarf strode through the door and frowned at Gandalf. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I arrived at the wrong door and had to ask for different directions."

Bilbo glanced over to Elric and saw the man frown. Had all of the dwarves found their way to Elric's door purely by accident? But no, no time for speculations now—Bilbo might be an unwilling host, but he would not let that stop him from being a good one. Slipping through the throng of dwarves, Bilbo stepped into his newest intrud– guest's sight.

Harsh blue eyes snapped to Bilbo's face—assessing, judging, and finding him lacking. Bilbo fought not to bristle at the dwarf's not-so-subtle glare. Though it was intimidating, the hobbit thought gaze didn't have nearly the same raw magnetism as Elric's. Those eyes he could still feel on his back.

"Bilbo Baggins at your service." The hobbit offered with a small bob of his head. "The evening meal just finished, but there should still be some more if you are—"

"So this is the hobbit." As if the interruption hadn't been rude enough, the dwarf began circling him. Muddy boots that had ignored the pile of their brethren by the door thumped against his polished wood floor, and Bilbo's only consolation was that at least it wasn't his mother's glory box this time. Having come full circle, the arrogant, decidedly rude (Oh, Bilbo knew the difference between young Kili's ignorant curiosity and this dwarf's blatant hostility) dwarf turned to their audience with a smirk, "Looks more like a grocer than a burglar."

"Burglar?" Bilbo sputtered. What was this dwarf trying to start? "I assure you I have never stolen a thing in my life."

There was a mutter that sounded like, "Aye, we can see that," from somewhere behind him, but the newest dwarf continued to speak as if he hadn't just insulted their host, "Axe or sword?"

"Pardon?"

The dwarf huffed, "What is your weapon of choice?"

Bilbo scrambled for an answer. He couldn't just say conkers, could he? Eru, he couldn't think of anything else now, certainly not something nearly as impressive as the assortment of weapons he had seen come into his smial that night.

Before he could embarrass himself further, a gloved hand descended on his shoulder, "There seems to be a misunderstanding." Elric was behind him, the man staring calmly at the dwarf. "Are you sure you have come to the right smial?"

There was a low murmur of unease from the gathered dwarves, and the one Elric had addressed straightened. "And what say does a man have where a dwarf goes?"

"Depends on the man and the dwarf, but that's not the problem here." As Elric spoke, Bilbo found himself behind the man; though, when that had happened he didn't know. "See, I don't believe Master Baggins invited any of your folk here tonight, and yet here you are—having disrupted both of our evenings."

The dwarf scowled, "I was told—"

"I'm sure you were told much," Elric interrupted. A layer of silence descended upon the entry hall as Elric and the dwarf faced each other.

And then Elric bowed. It was less of a grand gesture and more of a head bob, but it was not without respect. "Well met, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain son of Thror." A dozen sets of dwarves eyebrows shot up in surprise at a man speaking Thorin's name, while a look of contemplation settled on Gandalf's face. "I am sure you have traveled far and not without hardship to reach the Shire. As I said, you have been told much, while Master Baggins has been told none. Perhaps all of us will sit better at ease once you have been given a meal and a chance to sort out affairs with all their due explanations."

Neither Elric's eyes nor tone had warmed, but Thorin took the gesture of peace for what it was. The dwarf nodded, also declining a bow, "Well met, Master…"

"Elric." Edward supplied. Bilbo found himself pushed forward as Ed retreated back into the crowd. "And this gentle hobbit is our host."

Not entirely sure what to do, Bilbo settled for starting over, "Bilbo Baggins, at your service."

"Thorin Oakenshield." The dwarf's gaze was still appraising, but no longer did it make Bilbo feel like an unsatisfactory piece of meat.