It was 6:45 in the evening, the trout was nearly done frying, and Bilbo was just making herself a cup of tea. Gandalf would be arriving shortly, and Bilbo's apartment was neatened, her mother's china on the table and a tasteful doily placed on the mantelpiece. She smiled to herself, knowing Gandalf would be suitably impressed with her living conditions, and happy with her day. It had been wonderful, first receiving a free iced tea from that nice little café she and Thorin had gone to, then receiving a nice bike kit in the mail that she had been expecting for several weeks.

She glanced at the clock again as she took the fish off the stove. 6:50- just enough time to season it and get properly dressed. Bilbo cut a lemon in half, starting to squeeze it gently over the trout. As she made one pass over it, the doorbell rang. She looked up, frowning. If anything, Gandalf was normally a little late, not ten minutes early. Putting down the lemon, she shrugged on her bathrobe over the light dress she was wearing and opened the door.

"Oh! Um, I'm sorry, can I help you?" standing in the hallway was the largest man Bilbo had ever seen. He was even taller than Gandalf, large, black Mohawk brushing the hallway ceiling. His skull was tattooed and his enormous beard only partly covered up the studded leather jacket he wore.

"Dwalin, at yer service!" the giant proclaimed with a head bob. His towering hair brushed the doorframe with a scraping sound and he raised an eyebrow. "Ya gonna let me in or am I gonna hafta sit in the hall all night?" He drawled.

Bilbo squeaked, quickly drawing her dressing gown closed, and, uncertain what fit of insanity seized her, stepped aside to let him into the apartment. "Um, Bilbo Baggins, at yours. I'm sorry, do we know each other?" she asked uncertainly, trailing behind him as he made his way into her kitchen.

"I wouldn't think so, darlin'. Ah, food!" Bilbo saw he danger to her meal belatedly as Dwalin plopped himself down in her chair and began devouring her fish. She could only stare openmouthed as he ate the entire trout, leaving only a smattering of bones on the plate.

"Ver' good, this. Ya got anymore?" he asked, reclining and looking proud of himself. Bilbo numbly got the cake she had baked that day and put it on the table. Dwalin demolished those as fast, if not faster, than the fish.

"Look, this is highly inappropriate," Bilbo started. "You can't just barge in here and eat my dinner-" she was cut off by another knock at the door. "Oh god," she muttered, paling. Gandalf was here (finally) and she had no food ready, not even the cake. She was about to be mortified.

Slowly, she walked over and answered the door. It was not Gandalf. Instead, a different old man stood in the hallway, half as tall as Gandalf and infinitely more wrinkled. His white hair was not in a Mohawk but rather a short, fluffy halo and a beard that went halfway down his chest that distracted Bilbo to no end.

"Balin, at yer service! Am I late, Miss?" He too bowed, and somehow talked her around until he was standing inside and she was left to get the door. She wordlessly closed it, trying to catch Balin's attention so she could politely ask him his business and hurry him out the door. She felt ashamed at this thought- hadn't her mother always taught her to be polite to guests, even uninvited ones?

"BALIN!" A roar from her kitchen startled her as the giant rushed out. "Ah, it's been far too long!"

"Dwalin, you old vagabond, what trouble have you been getting yourself into?" Balin shouted right back at him. Bilbo really hoped that the neighbors wouldn't complain.

"Oh, you troublesome old man, you should know, eh!" the two men grasped each other's arms, squinting at each other with what looked to be suspicious affection to Bilbo. She was completely unprepared for the men to lean forward and, with a bang, smash their foreheads together.

"Oh my god! Are you okay? Do you need-" She stopped, as it was evident they couldn't hear her over their wild laughter. She shrunk away from the maniacs and slunk back into her kitchen, where hopefully she could figure everything out.

She sat down in her plush armchair, the one that had held her in times of distress and turmoil and clutched at the arms. She had strange men invading her flat, no food for her employer, and no idea what to do. She supposed she could always whip up some spaghetti quickly for Gandalf, though she knew it would never do. He liked big and flashy, and a modest pasta dinner would just… what were those sounds?

Bilbo rushed out of the kitchen to see pandemonium unfolding in front of her. The couches were all pushed over to one wall, clearing a space in the middle of the room, while Dwalin and Balin sat in the middle spreading blankets and pillows out to create a sort of nest.

Bilbo could only stare. Before she could think of anything to say, though, there was another knock on her door. She debated whether to answer it- worst case scenario it was Gandalf, and she left him out in the hallway all night. He'd had worse, and she couldn't let him into her apartment when it was like this.

The knocking came again, more insistent, and she shuddered. She was going to have to open the door eventually. She shuffled over to the door, opening it a crack.

"Bilbo, great to see you again!" Fili and Kili grinned at her from her doorstep, shoulder to shoulder and blocking her view into the hallway. She desperately craned her neck to peer around them, but could see no one else in the hallway. She breathed a short lived sigh of relief.

"All right, I suppose you want to come in as well," she grumbled, and blushed at her rudeness. "There's been a bit of commotion; I've had several unexpected guests already. It's been quite trying."

As Kili and Fili walked into the apartment, Bilbo fretfully avoided looking at the large space in her living room where her comfortable furniture should have been occupying. She could already hear clinks and crashes coming from the kitchen indicating that her pantry was soon to be emptied.

Another thunderous knocking came from the hall, and Bilbo moaned in exasperation, flustered and upset at the intrusion into her home. As she cautiously approached the door, the thunderous knocking came again and she muttered a curse under her breath.

"Alright, I'm coming! Welcome to my home, feel free to rob me of my food and disrupt my evening!" She thought as opened the door a crack.

She had to jump back as a tide of men swarmed into her apartment, shouting names at her and practically carrying her through the room. She finally managed to escape, and turning, a welcome sight met her eyes.

"Gandalf!" She exclaimed. "Oh, thank goodness you're here! I'm so dreadfully sorry, I wasn't expecting these guests and I'm afraid your dinner was devoured by these… these intruders, but if you help me herd them out I'm sure we can go fetch something to eat and-"

Gandalf cut her off before she could finish. "Calm down, my dear, it's quite alright! Sorry for not alerting you, I just brought some of my friends along to discuss some things with you." So saying, he swept into the room, leaving Bilbo with her mouth open and a shocked expression on her face.

"Um, Ms. Bilbo? It's me, Ori! I knew we would have a lot of people coming so I brought some extra food from the restaurant. Where should I put it?" Bilbo turned to see a familiar face still standing in the hall, holding several boxes and looking about ready to tip over.

"Oh, yes, very good of you, just place them in the kitchen…" Bilbo said faintly, waving him on. She sat down on the floor, putting her head in between her knees, and wondering how she was ever going to fix this mess.