Chtuluchilipie Chapter 5: The Thrush and The Raven-Sneak Peek

Summary:

Sneak Peek of new fic- Where Bilbo Baggins is something of a peculiarity, and Gandalf find his special skills may be well suited for a new adventure. But where Gandalf is involved, there is meddling that Bilbo doesn't expect.

The Thrush and The Raven

ROUGH EDIT 1

Bilbo Baggins was chosen to be the fourteenth member of the company on the road to Erebor for many reasons. The first being that Thorin Oakenshield had a strong distrust of anyone who was not his kin, which Gandalf sought to break him of. The second was that the company needed a burglar, and Bilbo Baggins, since he was a hobbit, was very spry on his feet. The third reason was that before Bilbo's mother Belladonna had passed, Gandalf had promised her to take her son an adventure someday, and Gandalf wanted to make good on that promise. The last reason was that Bilbo Baggins was very peculiar, and very capable in manners that most peoples of middle earth weren't.

For Bilbo could change the form of his body when it pleased him.

Sometimes he took the form of a rabbit, and other times he was a wolf, and very often a hobbit, yet his favorite form of all was when he was a songbird. Specifically, a thrush.There was something nice about being a bird, and when Bilbo began to take on that form more often, he found several traits of his bird self carrying over. Which he didn't mind one bit, and quite liked himself that way.

The day Gandalf paused by his garden, Bilbo had looked up with a strong exasperation. The Wandering Wizard only led to two things; trouble and meddling. Gandalf liked to meddle, and it was what the wizard did best. He meddled in anything that he could. He meddled in the state of Middle Earth, he meddled with people's feelings,he meddled with people's hearts, and with that came trouble. Gandalf was trouble. So when the wizard looked down at him expectantly, Bilbo scowled up at him.

"What is it now, Gandalf?" He asked crossly, puffing on his pipe in anger.

Gandalf gave a hearty chuckle. "To think I would be greeted by Belladonna Took's son as if I were a troublemaker. Interesting times indeed."

Bilbo was not moved. "Ha! Troublemaker indeed! I have not forgotten the incident in which I had been nearly eaten, and with no thanks to you!"

Gandalf's lips turned downwards, and the wizard slumped. "I have apologized for that, Bilbo Baggins. And the quest was done only with the best intentions." He sniffed, waiting a moment to add; "besides, if it makes you feel better you should know that thanks to your efforts that group of bandits has been dully punished."

Bilbo huffed, feeling his resolve crumble. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed. "A–alright. I'll hear you out."

Gandalf beamed, the offended look from his face vanishing immediately. Bilbo scowled and put his pipe back in his mouth, puffing away to soothe his nerves. Cursing himself to caving so easily, he opened his door and motioned for the wizard to follow. The wizard sat in the man-sized chair in Bilbo's parlor, patiently waiting for the hobbit to emerge from the kitchen with the usual treats he brought. He placed the assortments down, and sat back in his armchair, looking up at Gandalf and waiting patiently.

"Where am I going and what am I fetching?" He demanded. "I am not going on another 'adventure' without knowledge of what the risks are. So tell me, and tell me all of it, Gandalf."

Gandalf leaned back in his chair and began his tale, using his usual way with words to sway Bilbo, as the hobbit had always loved stories, even if he scowled and said he didn't wish to hear them.

•...•...•...•...•...•...•

Bilbo had spent an entire day working away in the kitchen, preparing for a feast that would satisfy fourteen hobbits, let alone thirteen dwarfs and a wizard. He makes pies, and lots of them. Blackberry pies, cherry pies, Apple pies, shepherd's pies, beef pies, and chicken pot pies. He bakes sweet-bread and covers it in honey, or he slathers it in butter, and oftentimes eats them before he sets them out for dinner. He peels lots of potatoes, and prepares them in all sorts of ways. He fries them, he bakes them, he mashes then. He removes the innards of tomatoes and turns them into a sauce for dipping, the remnants are filled with beef and goat cheese and baked. He baked sweet potatoes with garlic and cherry tomatoes, topping them with salt and spices. He made several large loafs of bread and stuffed them with cheese and surprise bits of tomato to expand in flavor. He was adamant on having his culinary skills remembered.

He emptied out his first pantry, and made plans to empty out the second the next morning for breakfast, and for travel. Bilbo would be damned if he was dragged on a long adventure with dwarfs without a single treat or two.

He was finishing up his fish frying, and adding the finishing touches to his delicious spread when he heard his doorbell ring. Feeling cheerful, he opened the door and bowed his head to the two dwarfs on the stoop completing for service. "Bilbo Baggins, son of Belladonna and Bungo, at your service."

The two stopped their bickering and turned to him with mischievous grins. "Fíli," the first one said, the shorter of the two, with gleaming golden hair and a very fanciful braided mustached. "And Kíli," The second added, a stark contrast to his brother in appearance. Whereas the first was golden, the second had dark chocolate hair and light stubble, undoubtedly the younger then.

"At your service." They chorused together bowing to him and grinning.

Then, the second dwarf– Kíli, pushed past Bilbo and looked around the house. "Where is everyone? Was it canceled?"

Fíli gave Bilbo a suspicious look, and the hobbit rolled his eyes. "No! Nothing's been canceled, just have a pint and wait for your kin. You two are the first." They looked relieved at that, and all but dashed into his dining room, about to serve themselves when Bilbo tutted loudly and took their plates away.

"I said a pint, not a plate, mind you. Wait for your companions. It is rude to eat without everyone present."

Fíli looked confused by the custom, and Kíli visibly sulked, which was quickly relieved when Bilbo passed them both a cookie and a cup of honey-mead each.

When the rest of the dwarfs came, they did not seem too pleased about being made to wait, especially the rotund one. Bombur stared dreamily at the steaming platters in front of him, and impatiently waited until the leader of their company at last arrived. The moment a heavy knock came upon the door, they all dug in, passing around plates and cutlery in a haste. Bilbo sighed and went to answer the door, Gandalf just behind him. He opened the door, and was greeted with the sight of a tall, magnificent and brooding dwarf.

Bilbo found his breath quite stuck in his throat. Clearing it with a high pitched squeak, he bowed his head to the dwarf. "Ah, Bilbo Baggins, son of Belladonna and Bungo... at your service."

The dwarf was...Sinfully gorgeous. His hair was dark, almost jet in the dim lighting, falling down over his shoulder in long cascading waves. He was tall, and rather stately in manner, carrying himself with an air that stated his importance. He was tall, and undoubtedly imposing. His beard was cropped short, despite his status as King of the longbeards, if Bilbo's studies were correct. He was handsome, that went without dispute, but what caught Bilbo's attention wasn't his fine jaw or regal nose or magnificent brow, or even the way that he carried himself with strength. It was his eyes, crystalline and a pure untouched blue. Bilbo could scarce describe the color, if he were ever to be asked.

Bilbo realized with a jolt that he had been staring for quite some time, and he squeaked in surprise. "Ah... if my assumptions are correct, you are King-In-Exile, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain."

The dwarf looked down at him haughtily but did not comment, looking unimpressed that Bilbo knew his name and title. Clearing his throat, Bilbo looked down and away. "Just down the hall there is food and drink, should you like any. And, to your right is where you can place your belongings. I have only sixguest rooms, one of which has been reserved for Gandalf, and I assume you can divide the rest amongst your companions."

Thorin did not offer so much as a thank you, and bowed his head, but only so he could step inside the smial. Removing his heavy cloak and furs, he cast a glare at Gandalf.

"I thought you said this place would be easy to find," he accused. "I would not have found it all if not for that mark upon the door."

"And a fine door it was too, painted just a week ago and ruined again, by another adventure Gandalf is dragging me off to." Bilbo muttered bitterly to himself, mood darkening at the lack of thanks he had received.

Thorin turned to him, face straight. "Is there a problem? Do you not wish to adventure with us, hobbit? You do not have to come."

Bilbo blanched, eyes narrowing, he wasn't sure, but it sounded as if Thorin was challenging him. This did nothing to help his already darkening mood, and Bilbo clenched his hands into fists. Smiling sweetly, he blinked up at the dwarf."No, I should think not, Master Dwarf. I am as good as my word." Bilbo said.

The dwarf exhaled angrily and took a step closer to the hobbit. "There is no shame in backing out while you can. My companions will not judge you for accepting what you cannot do."

Bilbo raised an eyebrow, poised to make a rebuttal, drawing himself up taller and taking a step towards the dwarf angrily.

Then Kíli came bounding into the room, holding up a chicken leg and grinning. Delighted, he called out. "Thorin!" And greeted the king-in-exile, embracing him tightly. Then the two dark hair dwarfs turned into the dining room, Gandalf following after, leaving Bilbo to stand back and wonder what had just happened.

Thorin's manner towards him did not improve in the slightest. Not when Bilbo got up an hour early to make them breakfast, not when Bilbo complimented his manners, not even when Bilbo got them out of unnecessary taxing by some rude hobbit cousin of his. The dwarf was always snapping at him, reprimanding him, scolding and belittling him with thinly veiled insults whenever he could. It drove Bilbo mad to no end. More than anything he wanted to slap the dwarf in the face, and demand an apology, but he wouldn't. He wouldn't cave. He would keep his temper despite that Thorin seemed to enjoy riling him up.

"I'm telling you, Thorin, if we camp here not only will we have a fitful sleep, we will wake up exhausted and feeling strange." Bilbo insisted, walking quickly next to Thorin as he yelled orders the the dwarfs.

Thorin ignored him, Bilbo walked away, muttering curses underneath his breath as he gathered firewood with Bofur.

"Are you alright, Bilbo?" Bofur asked, concernedly looking at him. "You look uncomfortable."

Bilbo froze, as realization dawned on him. The only reason that he was more snappish than usual was that he hadn't shifted in weeks, at least not since Gandalf had paid him a visit. Slowly, Bilbo shook his head. "Not really, although I think I'll be better soon. But thank you for asking Bofur, I think you're the only one here who cares for my wellbeing besides myself."

Bofur gasped. " That's not true! We all care about you. You've been nothing but a pal to us."

Bilbo snorted.

"No, really I mean it."

Bilbo raised an eyebrow and cast a glance towards Thorin.

"Even him, Bilbo." Bofur said, patting him on the back. "You matter a good deal."

Bilbo rolled his eyes, but returned the pat, giving Bofur a smile.

"Now, if you don't mind me asking, why do you think we shouldn't sleep here for the night?"

Bilbo chewed on his lower lip. "Ah, well. It's a bit of hobbit superstition. We're close to the Old Forest, and it's common knowledge that you don't get too close. Strange things occur in these lands..."Clearing his throat, he added; "These trees, this forest is remarkably ancient. And if magic lingers anywhere, it is certainly within this place."

Bofur nodded knowledgeably, and set the firewood in the center of the camp, stepping back as Gloin set it ablaze. "Oh we have tales like that too. Deep down in the mountains, things sleep. Things as old as the world itself. We know to not venture too deep into mountains, for fear of those sleeping things. Which are best to be left that way." Scratching his chin, Bofur cast a sidelong glance at Bilbo. "I'm surprised Thorin didn't listen to you. He would know best of the those ancient things."

Nearby, Dwalin raised an eyebrow. "Ancient things? Why such dark talk before bed?" He asked, crossing his arms.

"Bilbo here was just explaining to me that these forests have their own type of ancient things, and I explained to him the ones in the mountain."

"Ooooo." Fíli and Kíli chorused in ghostly voices, waving their fingers at Bilbo.

"Ancient things are no joke." Thorin said, glaring across the fire at Bilbo.

"You say that as if you've seen one." Bilbo said, hoping to annoy Thorin even further. Spook him out a bit, ruin his sleep so he would know Bilbo was right.

"You know nothing of the world." Thorin spat, face darkening as he stood and turned away. Bilbo felt the color slip from his face, and he looked down, wishing that he hadn't let Gandalf talk him into this. That he had stayed in Bag-End, running around in his garden as a rabbit or perhaps fluttering from tree-to-tree as a bird.

"Don't pay any mind to him, Bilbo." Balin said, sitting over on Bilbo's left. "He saw things he shouldn't have, dark things at far too young an age."

"Contrary to what you may think, my dear Bilbo, you and Thorin are far more alike than you should think." Gandalf said.

Bilbo huffed. "I doubt I've anything in common with that pompous, brooding, grumpy and rude asshole."

The entire company looked at him in shock, and Bilbo huffed angrily, standing up from his spot by the fire and settling down in his cot, completely unaware of the Raven that sat in the tree, staring down at him.