Bilba drifted slowly to consciousness, feeling the warmth of the just rising sun beating through her window.

She stretched languidly, relaxing into her bed. She'd had the STRANGEST dream the night before, of Dwarves and exiled Kings and reckless quests -–

A clatter sounded from her kitchen, followed by a shushing sound, and reality crashed back in.

It hadn't been a dream.

It all happened and, even at that moment, there were Dwarves in her house.

Bilba groaned and ran her hands over her face. She'd rather spend the day with Lobelia than face them but, with a sigh, she forced herself up and began to get ready. She had never been a morning person so there was only so much she could do to make herself presentable. Eventually she looked in the mirror, noted the frizzy hair, the still sleep heavy eyes, and the blotchy spot on one side of her head where she'd slept on it, and shrugged. Close enough and, besides, she doubted the lot of them would look much better after a night sleeping in someone else's home.

Squaring her shoulders, and leaving her sword in her hope chest this time, she opened her door, and immediately smelled the wonderful aroma of eggs and bacon wafting in from the kitchen.

She walked out slowly, arms wrapped around her chest, bracing to have to face a litany of Dwarves and general awkwardness.

To her surprise, she didn't see any. She also didn't hear the amount of noise she'd expect from that many Dwarves, and a Wizard.

Another clatter sounded from the kitchen and she heard the low murmur of voices. SOMEONE was there.

She glanced down the hall and into the living room and saw it was empty and perfectly clean. Another look in the dining room also showed it was empty.

Finally, the only room left was the kitchen.

Bilba took a deep breath and steeled herself. She uncrossed her arms, then re-crossed them, then finally settled for keeping her arms down with her hands clasped.

Then she strode into the kitchen.

The first thing she saw was a large, red headed Dwarf, with a thick braided beard, humming away at her stove. She vaguely remembered him from the night before; he'd been in the group that nearly fell on her.

Fili and Kili were seated at one end of the small kitchen table, their heads close together, speaking in quick hushed whispers.

She didn't see Gandalf anywhere, lucky for him, as she had more than a few choice words for the wizard. That is if she ever decided to speak to him again.

For a second Bilba relaxed, then her eyes caught the flicker of motion from her right. She turned to look and immediately froze.

Because there, sitting in the shadows with a cup in front of him, was none other than His Royal Exiled Highness Himself and he was EVEN MORE BREATHTAKING IN SPITE OF IT BEING MORNING AND HE HAD TO HAVE JUST GOTTEN UP AND HAD NO RIGHT TO LOOK THAT GOOD.

He made eye contact, and yes, his eyes really WERE that blue and not just a trick of the light the night before. He opened his mouth to speak.

Bilba spun away and stepped toward the stove managing to somehow trip on the way and nearly kill herself in the process.

"Hi," she said, speaking just a little too loud and a little too fast to the Dwarf at her stove. "I'm sorry; you don't need to do that. I'm more than happy to prepare breakfast. You're my guests!"

"Oh, it's no problem at all," came the soft spoken response, "I rather like cooking myself. I saved some for you if you like."

He indicated a large serving of bacon, eggs, sausage and biscuits set aside on a warming plate.

"Oh, thank you," she said, stepping aside, "it looks delicious."

She made no comment on the fact it was her own food or that she'd need to go to the market, again, to buy more as she'd emptied out her pantry the night before.

She sat down next to Kili, putting him between her and Master-Unfairly-Good-Looking-For-So-Early-In-The-Morning.

If she were very, very lucky, she could get away with never having to speak to him. They'd all go on their way, she'd go restock her pantry, invite Fram to another dinner, and life would move on.

"I believe you are owed an apology."

The voice, a low bass that seemed to rumble through the table, could only come from one person and Bilba sighed. Nothing could ever just go the way she wanted could it?

She had no idea what he was apologizing for, being an obnoxious ass or inadvertently barging in on her home?

She kept her face fixed on her plate and decided to go with the second choice. Fili and Kili had been pretty adamant on her not mentioning the first one. "It wasn't your fault, it's that idiot wizard."

"Still," he continued, "we intruded, however, unknowingly and for that I apologize." He was silent, seeming to struggle with something, and then gave a slight sigh. "I also need to apologize for my own rudeness. It was inexcusable."

Great, he just had to go and be all kingly and regal didn't he? No excuses, no trying to dance around it, just straight up took responsibility and apologized. Bilba sighed and rubbed a hand over her face, grimacing at the feel of grit still in her eyes. Did he have to apologize when she was still half asleep?

Now she had no choice. What did Fili say the name was again? Thorin Oaken-something or other? Did he go by Your Majesty? Or maybe Master So-And-So Sorry I Forgot Part of Your Name?

Forget it; she'd just get around it by not using his name at all.

She chewed on her lip, and then stood up. Next to her Fili and Kili both stopped talking and looked at her in confusion.

Bilba looked at Thorin OakenWhatever, and was immediately hypnotized by those stunning eyes of his, blast it all. The second she was done drawing a picture of Fili she was drawing one of him she decided.

She inhaled, and forged ahead. "I accept your apology, misguided as it is, and offer one of my own." She heard Kili make a strangled sound and barely avoided rolling her eyes. "I behaved very rudely myself and, for that, I apologize."

There, that should make the Pretty Twins happy. She'd apologized for it without actually talking ABOUT it, problem solved.

His expression was unreadable, but he inclined his head, regally of course; in what she assumed was acceptance.

"I believe," Bilba went on, "that we were never properly introduced." She curtseyed. "Bilba Baggins, at your service."

She didn't expect him to get up but, to her surprise, he did just that. "Thorin Oakenshield, at yours."

Okenshield, that was it. She knew it was Oaken something.

He sat back down and she did the same, breaking eye contact through sheer force of will. Belatedly she wondered if she should have waited for him to dismiss her.

No, it was her house. He should be waiting for HER to dismiss HIM.

Still, she was glad they'd cleared the air between them. Obviously she had misjudged him the night before.

Bilba looked at Fili. "Where did everyone go?"

He looked up from where he and Kili had been intently staring at one another, apparently having some sort of weird staring contest, or trying to kill each other with their minds. "They headed to Bree. We'll be heading out soon but wanted to stay and make sure to apologize first."

Bilba wasn't sure why that took four of them but she nodded and looked back to her food. "Did Gandalf leave as well?"

"He went to see the others to the edge of Hobbiton," Kili said. "He'll be returning soon."

"Good," she said darkly. "I have a few things to say to him."

"As do I," Thorin's voice said. "He has cost me time we do not have. Had I known what you were when we set out I wouldn't have wasted the time it took in getting here."

Bilba paused, a spoonful of food halfway to her mouth.

She hadn't misjudged him after all.

Well, there was really no reason to respond. After all she had already informed Fili and Kili she wasn't interested in going so Thorin's comments simply cemented her decision.

And, regardless, a proper Hobbit did not argue with guests. Even impossibly good looking ones who utterly ruined the image every time they opened their mouth.

Thorin, unfortunately, made the choice to continue speaking. "When he said he knew of an excellent burglar, by the name of Bilba Baggins, I naturally assumed he spoke of a trained, male warrior, not an untrained slip of a girl barely out of childhood."

Bilba chewed on her bottom lip for a moment and then carefully set her fork down. She looked up to see Fili staring at her and smiled. His eyes immediately went wide but Bilba was already standing up and turning to face Thorin.

"I can understand your ignorance," she said, mildly, deliberately stressing the word ignorance. "Though I admit it surprises me to hear an exiled King couldn't be bothered to learn the first thing about someone he potentially sought to hire."

Thorin closed his mouth, his first intelligent choice since they'd met, looking startled.

"So, since you couldn't be bothered," she continued, "I'll enlighten you. First and foremost, names in the Shire that end in an 'o' are masculine, names that end in an 'a' are feminine. Therefore, the very fact my name is Bilba, and not Bilbo would show you I was female. Of course you could also have simply asked Gandalf but I assume that would have been far too much effort for one so grand as you."

Thorin looked like he'd been carved from stone. Fili and Kili were both making noises that sounded suspiciously like they were choking to death and even the large Dwarf at the stove had stopped moving to listen to her.

"Second," Bilba continued, her voice still perfectly pleasant in every way, "I happen to be tall for a Hobbit and, as you can see, am quite old enough to live on my own without supervision."

Okay, those were both a bit of a stretch. She was tall for a Hobbit, but her frame had always been small and described as being on the delicate side even without the sword training, tragically un-Hobbit like in every respect. She was also allowed to live on her own because Priscilla and Seth checked on her regularly and the Thain had control of her finances until she got out of her Tweens and reached her majority.

That and half the Hobbits were superstitious and believed letting her live with them would curse their families to similar fates, while the other half believed she was corrupted thanks to her mother and didn't want her spreading the bad influence into their own homes.

But Thorin didn't need to know all that.

"And third," she continued, and now heat started to rise in her voice and her hands, clasped demurely in front started to clench till her knuckles turned white, "I'll have you know that I already refused to go on your idiotic quest and, in fact, I'd like to know just whose harebrained idea it was anyway? Do you honestly think you're just going to march in, avoid a DRAGON, find your precious arkenrock in a PILE of treasure, and walk back out?"

As she spoke her voice rose, growing harsher. Thorin meanwhile, was looking more and more thunderous, one hand clenching around the cup until cracks began to appear in it. Dimly, a warning bell began to ring in Bilba's mind but she was far to wound up to pay heed to it.

"And then what? You go marching back to your kinsman, who ignored you when you first asked for their help and expect them to change their mind? All because you have a shiny rock you didn't have the first time? How does that make the LEAST bit of sense? They know who you are, if they had the slightest bit of honor they'd have agreed to help you the first time you asked and not demanded you go on some fool's quest to try and prove you're worthy of their time! Don't--"

Two things happened at the same time.

Thorin leapt to his feet, his eyes dark. The chair he'd sat in flew backwards and hit the wall with a clatter.

At the same time Kili, seated in front of her, also leapt up. As he did he spun in place and, in one smooth motion, proceeded to grab Bilba and throw her over his shoulder.

"What? Kili! Put me down!"

She lashed out with her hands, tangling them in the back of his shirt, and tried to kick him with her feet but he easily ignored her. The world swung crazily and she realized Kili was headed toward the front door, carefully edging around Thorin as he did.

Fili stepped in front of them both. "So anyway, we'll head out to the market and replace her pantry like you wanted. Back in a bit!"

Then she was being carried like a sack of grain down her own hallway and out her front door. The last sight she had was of Thorin standing in her hallway watching her go.

For a second, as they went out the door, Bilba made eye contact with him, and paused.

The look in his eyes was one of anger as she would expect, but there was also something else she did not expect.

The emotion was dark, and one she'd seen in her own eyes every time she looked in the mirror.

Pain.